Family Smarts

P.S. Just because I called my brother-in-law the "family genius" does not mean I'm belittling anyone else's intelligence. We are all very intelligent. It's just that when Jeff speaks (or writes) I have to listen (or read) with a special bit of attention because of all the five-dollar words he uses. The great thing about his use of big words though is that he actually uses them correctly, unlike some people (NOT in my family!) who use big words incorrectly.

Anyway. That's all. In seeking not to offend anyone from my family, I have probably now offended the other 5.99 billion people on this planet.

Epitaph

My brother-in-law (the family genius) posed these questions on his blog:
Have you thought:
What you want to be remembered for?
Who you want to be remembered by?
What will be remembered about you 50 years from now - that is, what really counts?

I started considering those questions seriously when both of my parents passed away. As their only child with no offspring (cats don't count!), I got a very real look at my own mortality as I sat at their respective funerals surrounded by family. I felt very alone as I considered death, my own, that is. All of my siblings have children (and most have grandchildren) who will attend their funerals and extoll their virtues and sing their praises.

Who will attend mine? If I don't have children, who will remember me? and for what?

Yes, those questions hit me hard at that time, and it's a good thing because it means I get to make sure that the things I do in my life and with my life are for me -- not in a selfish way, but in that way that's good for me to make sure I do make something worthwhile out of my life.

A lighter post coming up, I promise!

Overheard in the Restroom

I walked into the restroom at work just in time to hear the tail end of this conversation:

"So, I had to use my hands."

"Oh my goodness! I hope you had gloves!"

"I did have some, thank goodness, or else it would have been such a mess!"

This made me laugh and laugh as I imagined the many scenarios those lines could apply to. I knew that I was being unfair since I came in at what was obviously the end of a story, and sure enough, being patient and listening paid off.

One of the women was telling the other, who used to be a hairdresser, about her recent dye-your-own-hair-at-home experience. The tools that came with the kit and apparently the instructions had somehow gotten lost, so she wasn't sure if she had the right dye:developer ratio, as well as having to use her own hands to mix and apply the dye.

Why? What were YOU thinking it was?

The Color Pink

Pink is many things.

Pink is the opposite of green.

I wear a lot of pink because I have green eyes, so the contrast between pink and green makes my eyes stand out more.

Pink is the color of bubblegum.

Bubblegum is the color of a house in my town. It is VERY pink.

P!nk is one of my favorite artists. If she were coming to town, I would gladly pay the ticket price to go see that performance live.

Pink is the color associated with baby girls. But real men wear pink. Eh, *shrug* whatever. I prefer to not get trapped by gender color lines. After all, if I can wear blue (and do often!), then men should be able to wear pink. Real or otherwise.

Pink is many things. But here's a riddle for you: What's "pink" that isn't pink?

A "pink" slip. I know, because I got one not too long ago. Yes, that's right. My position has been eliminated. Maybe that's why the notice wasn't pink. It came in a gray folder. Gray = somewhere between black and white = kind of non-existent...? Maybe.

At any rate, change is being imposed on me, and that's okay. No, really! It's sad I didn't take more initiative to impose change on myself, but it's a good opportunity to go out and make myself more worthwhile somewhere else. Not more worthwhile, but more valued. I AM worthwhile, but management here hasn't utilized that worthwhile-edness to its fullest extent.

A new adventure will be starting soon at probably a different company. I have mixed feelings about that part of it. After 15 years with the same company there are definitely benefits to sticking around for as long as you can. But the position I really want out of all the ones I've interviewed so far is actually at a rival, cross-town company. Trading one rodent for another. Moving from a mouse trap to rabbit hunting. That would be the ideal scenario at this point. Wherever I land, it will be good. And even though I don't know WHERE I know it WILL happen, and that's what keeps me going.

Well, that and the nice pink shirt I've got on today!

The Other OTHER Big News in Burbank

You may have heard that it snowed yesterday in Burbank. Yes, snowed. Burbank. Los Angeles-adjacent. Snow. The last time that happened was in 1949, so I guess you could say it was due.

Here I am making a snow angel:



But the thing that really captured my attention happened right outside our door. We live right next door to a freeway onramp for a major interstate (can you live next"door" to a thing that doesn't have doors?). We frequently hear, besides normal traffic sounds (huge motorcycle engines, truck brakes, horns honking, squealing tires) all sorts of things you dread hearing, let alone being involved in. For example, when the squeal of the brakes is quickly followed by a loud thump-bump-crash-bang-THUD. That's the sound you don't want to hear.

We hear that sound a lot. And have gone up the onramp (or offramp, depending on the direction) several times to offer assistance.

Last night we didn't have to go very far to offer assistance. One driver was starting to make a left turn onto the freeway onramp and met someone else going straight. The guy going straight somehow did a complete u-turn and ended up on the sidewalk in front of our house, facing the opposite direction, neatly parallel parked between a light post and fire hydrant.

Needless to say, both cars were disabled, and traffic patterns were quickly frustrated on our usually busy street.

Here are some photos from the night's events

(Don't you like my mad Photoshop skilz in blacking out the license plate numbers?)




Seriously -- I have no idea how he managed to avoid all property other damage other than probably some tire marks on the wet grass. Pretty amazing.

Best part of the night? Chatting with the very good looking Burbank firemen!

Spotted at Disneyland

What you should NEVER do with a light saber:


It's either going to do some serious damage to important body parts and organs, or take someone else off at the knees. Either way, it's not very attractive.

The Mozart Season

I just finished reading a beautiful book and wanted to tell you about it. No, I'm too lazy to do a book report or anything fancy or formal like that, but too often I read a book that I enjoy, put it down and move immediately to the next one in my stack. This one was too lovely to do that to. So if anyone's looking for a good book to read, go to your local library and check out "The Mozart Season," by Virginia Euwer Wolff.

I thought at first I wasn't going to like it, or worse, would be bored by it, since the protagonist is a 12 year old girl, which seems a young age to have anything compelling to share. But the prose of this author make this girl mature even as she grows into her own maturity. It is insightful and philosophical and haunting and quite frankly, brought tears to my eyes more than once, but in a good way.

Go. Read. Then let me know what you think about the steel fountain impromptu concert in the rose park.