Midlife total body and mind makeover: oh this oughta be good!

Okay friends, unlike my less-than-sunny disposition (acquired last Thursday, July 26, 2012 that held somewhat steady until this very moment) I am slowly working my way toward a better frame of mind. I have done a lot of thinking. I have done a lot of talking. I have even done some laughing. I am ready. According to my bitchy last post from just yesterday as I look at the calendar, I recently divulged my hatred toward the phrase "you never know what the future holds." While I still vehemently oppose the use of this phrase in my general vicinity, I WILL say that after speaking to some and laughing with others and a completely silent contemplative 3 hour drive home (in a TRUCK I had to drive no less), I am ready to admit one thing that I know for sure (as Oprah would say).

I can really only control ONE thing in my life. And as you probably all already know, the one thing I have ultimate control over, is myself. Hence, the birth of the "midlife total body and mind make over" coup.

For several months now, I have been telling James he needs to make me over into something "hot." We laugh together at this as he is not exactly a personal trainer but a middle school English teacher who is slowly losing his hair. (Don't tell him that, he will deny it to the end). The great piece to this is that he already thinks I'm "hot" and thank God for small favors because he is after all, the man I have been married to for nearly 15 years now. For years he has said that when I am 50 he is going to buy me my FAVORITE thing......a very fast, very sporty, very cool convertible to be driven by only the very "hot" at least in my mind.

Last week I had an experience which was reminiscent of a feeling I was very familiar with when I was younger......REJECTION! Trust me when I say, I honestly thought I had looooong outgrown the ability to feel that way so readily at another's hand. Let's just say, it's not something I'd like to soon if ever revisit, and leave it at that.

What will the midlife makeover consist of? I have NO IDEA but stay tuned because this girl is gonna knock it outta the park. I have no idea how long this will take me and I make no promises to that effect. But again, what I DO KNOW is that I can control the most important thing there is out there in the future.....and that's ME.

Lastly, I want to give a shout out and MANY thanks to Don who cut his evening with his parents short last week so he could talk me off the ledge via phone from his commute in his car, to Amy who answered a zillion or so texts on the topic, to James who once again, gave me his experiential advice about adveristy and life, to my sister who was just sorta "there" quietly in the background right where I needed her to be and her significant other "Lenny the Schneider" who sang and danced with me when I REALLY needed to laugh.

It has been a grueling 3 days and I am more than ready for a midlife (I turned 45 in June) makeover of body and mind. More to come, I am sure!

Sincerely, the one who is back in control.........

"You don't know what the future holds"---oh just shut up!

Twice over the past week two completely different people on as many separate occasions have felt the need to tell me "well you know Miss, no one knows what the future holds."

Why do people feel compelled to say this to me? Let's get something straight here. My baseline non-medicated attitude is that of a pessimist. This means if you tell me that you don't know what the future holds my brain immediately goes to

that phrase = something bad will happen

You see, people like me have to work EXTRA hard to combat the "glass is half empty" tendency. Tooooooo many times in my 45 years friends, lovers, co-workers and just fellow human beings have said to me (usually following some event which has caused me pain) "well yea, XYZ just happened BUT you never know what the future holds." I absolutely hate that and here's why:

When you say this to me, my pessimistic logic immediately goes to the negative side of the possibilities in the future. My brain NEVER sees the positive options. My head is broken in this sense. My thought patterns are simply NOT wired toward the positive pole. Here are some examples from my own life:

After getting dumped by a good friend or lover with whom I want more: "hey I just want to be friends (or even better), I want to have no-contact with you for now BUT, you never know what the future holds." My brain translates that into "ok, well I guess I'll never hear from him/her again" and "looks like I was not good enough for yet another homo sapien" which then quickly causes me to leap into my childhood abandonment phase where things emotionaly spiral down hill at an alarming clip.

After being told by a supervisor that I am only a staff member and not a faculty member and so therefore I am stuck in this pay scale and rank for the rest of my life BUT "who knows what will happen in the future." For me this translates into "you're STUCK sweetheart. Good luck with that and by the way, here is a whole lot of extra work for you to do for no additional money."

After losing an election for some post I really wanted : "Hello Melissa, I am sorry to inform you that you did not receive enough votes to serve as XYZ BUT keep trying because you never know what will happen in the future." My knee jerk response is "yea, I could lose again in the future. Can't wait."

After having a healthy result of a colonoscopy, the Dr. says " hey good news, all looks healthy BUT, keep a close eye on your colon because you never know what will happen in the future." Yea, what could happen in the future is that I could have a monster cancer in my colon and will have to endure all of the crap that is involved with attempting to kill it. THAT's what COULD happen in the future.

Look everybody: There is absolutely NO denying that I am a control freak. I want to be in control of what happens in the future. I abhore the option of "not knowing the future" because in the future that MY head lives in, all possible outcomes are crappy. Some would say it would just be easier to teach myself how to think positively. Believe me, I have tried. Too much has happened to my emotional self over the years to EVER warrant me consistently thinking positively about the future.

Do I still play the lottery? YES. I would consider it a cosmic slap in the face to win since negativity is my general disposition. I would soooooooo welcome that slap.

So world, unless you really DO INTEND to call me, text me, want me back in your life on a permanent basis, will give me a raise and compensate me appropriately for my contributions to the profession, will for sure elect me as the next leader of whatever and will most certainly find a cure for cancer, please please stop lulling me into a false sense of security that something "good" might happen in the future (which after all is what is implied by the whole statement)

Until I am proven wrong by someone or something that has hurt me that the contrary is in fact true, I will continue to view my glass as half empty and with water spots. (usually from my overly leaky eyes) Will I ever view the phrase as having positive outcomes? Frankly, I'm not optimistic about my odds.

Funeral bounce houses and party favors

Last month we buried my grandmother leaving me with only one left on this earth.  My friend and chair of our program is currently back in Ohio planning her mother's "celebration of life."  One of my former students recently lost her 99 year old grandmother and has been talking about it on Facebook.  I recently re-connected with a former high school sweetheart who lost his younger brother in an untimely way a few years back.  Today, Alex was asked to be a server for a military funeral held at church. Needless to say, I have been thinking of funerals a lot lately. 

Here's the deal people.  In the event of my untimely demise (and NO, I have no plans to kick off anytime soon) my funeral has got to be FUN.  That may sound strange to a lot of you but I truly mean it.  If I ever find myself with some spare time, I will go ahead and plan it officially so no one else has to worry about it.  I mean really, if you know me AT ALL, you know I love to plan an "event." And afterall, who better to plan that sucker than yours truly?!  So here's what I have in mind:

You really need to try and get to the visitation. Out of town friends:  please plan accordingly.  I want the place packed and by the way, wear what ever the hell you feel like. Is it hot outside?  I am cool with cut offs and flip flops.  Why do we get all dressed up anyway?  Its not like we take a bunch of group pictures with the corpse.  At a certain time, (and this should be announced in the paper) there will be a formal presentation led by someone with a sense of humor.   This will begin with the video picture presentation of my life in two parts.  The first part will be pictures of me from birth to my high school graduation with the background music being Barbara Streisand singing "Somewhere over the Rainbow" recorded at a concert she sang in her back yard.  The song is in my car.  The second half will be pics of my life from college on and will be set to the song, "I Sing the Body Electric" from the FAME soundtrack.  You can find that anywhere.  Now this is important because I think these things are cool to watch and this will ensure that you all actually see it versus just having it on in the "background."  I mean really, if I go to all the trouble of putting it together.......you get the picture.

Okay, this is the place where I need help.  I need people who know me to get up and tell a touching or funny story about me.  There should be plenty of the "funny" stories floating around out there.  You REALLY need to volunteer to do this as nothing looks more pathetic than no one getting up to talk about someone at a  visitation.  Don't make me assign you a part!

There should be food at this event.  Weird?  Yep.  But TOTALLY me.  How many of you think visitations would be much more fun with an open bar?  (Me, Me, pick me!)  Seriously, I am thinking heavy hors douvers and beer/wine.  This will allow my friend Amy to get up and talk because otherwise, she is too shy and she has some great stories about me.

Now, God knows, I need people praying for my successful arrival to the "other side."  Catholics:  this means you have to say a group rosary at some point.  This also needs to be posted in the paper so we can get all of the devout Catholics to the event with rosary in hand.  Plus, we need someone experienced in the Rosary to lead it.  I mean how embarrassing to get half way through that thing and lose your place or throw in one too many "Hail Marys" or something like that. Devout Catholics, you know who you are!

Kids should NOT be afraid to come to the visitation and/or funeral.  Death is a part of life and I have raised my kids to believe that when we leave here we go to one hell of a party.  They currently believe they will be in "no homework, video-game playing all day happy land" and who can blame them.  My personal heaven involves everyone who has ever loved me and a lot of food without calories all in the same place. It also involves alcohol without hangovers.  To get the kid crowd, I am thinking of renting a bounce house for outside next to the funeral home.  How cool would that be?  Then, after the formal presentation and open bar happy hour, the adults could go out and play in it.  FUN!  Be sure to take lots of pictures because that could get hysterical.

Now, for the funeral itself.  I LOVE the tradition and pomp and circumstance of the "dance around with holy water and incense and sit-stand-kneel"  about being Catholic.  I want the whole funeral mass.  Now non-Catholics, let me just say right now I'M SORRY for the hour long ordeal.  You are required to go and I cannot make it any shorter.  Deal with it. 

Music is important to me.  I want all of the singers from every mass to all get together and sing some great funeral songs from "Glory and Praise" at church.  All of the Catholic "stuff" should be thoroughly explained for the benefits of the non-Catholics throughout mass as we go by the priest, whomever that may be.  The homily needs to be funny NOT boring.  Afterall, my guests are stuck there for an hour.  Please entertain them.  Someone want to give a eulogy?  That's great.  It's all I can do not to write it myself but I'll let something be a surprise.    Again.....err on the light side. Once the mass is over, I want the song "When the Roll is Called up Yonder" played by the Statler Brothers.  Its just a cool song and those guys can totally harmonize. 

Flowers.  I like flowers.  I want it written nowhere that "in lieu of flowers."  I want it to say instead,  "In addition to flowers" and then people can donate to any childhood cancer group they like, the Speech and Hearing clinic or Mary Immaculate grade school.  I like tulips a lot and I hate orange flowers.  Run with it.

The procession of cars:  I think it is SO COOL that in life we maintain the reverent tradition of driving through town with a police escort and flashers on.  I love it that people are so respectful that they pull over to the side and let the procession pass.  In addition to your flashers, I think you should all honk your horns like people used to do after weddings. That is so NOT a joke! Let's make some noise!

All of my parties end with party favors and take home boxes of cake.  This should be no different.  I think everyone needs to leave with a party favor.  I am still working on this one.  Whatever it is, it will be cool.  You should all have a fun "take home" in addition to the "program" which by the way needs to be proof read by some one who can read.    After the Catholic cemetery prayers, you all need to go back somewhere and eat and laugh A LOT!  Little church ladies should make sure to make mostichelli (however you spell that) because that is my favorite funeral food.  If you are assigned to bring the deviled eggs, please bring twice as much as you think you need,.  Those things always go so fast!  It would be nice to have some kid food too like chicken nuggets and pizza.  In addition to tea and lemonade lets go ahead and have beer.  Why not?!

This needs to be a 3-day party.  When the time comes, let this be your guide!  Bounce houses and party favors!

My life today: Dear cheap tickets,

My life today: Dear cheap tickets,: Dear cheap tickets, My name is Melissa and lately I have been flying a lot. I don't like to fly but I refuse to allow that to limit my li...

Dear cheap tickets,

Dear cheap tickets,

My name is Melissa and lately I have been flying a lot. I don't like to fly but I refuse to allow that to limit my life in any way so I get good and drugged up before take off and continue on. I am a very organized person and I try my best to schedule my entire semester's worth of travel at the beginning of each academic term for maximum efficiency.

Today I was scheduled to fly to Orange County California. I live in the middle of a corn field so it is best that I share with you that it takes me, on average, 3 hours to get to an airport that services planes where you can sit without staring at the back of the pilot's head which is what I prefer. This is not because I have a scalp phobia but rather because I prefer to board a plane where they don't have to run to the rear of the cabin to wind it up. The other reason I fly on grown up size planes is for the classy upgraded beverage service. My preference here is for the good old fashioned cart with two operators handing out beverages versus the toy plane method where the passengers pass around a mini igloo cooler and serve themselves.

You may be wondering why I am choosing to share this with you and believe me, I am getting to that. In case you have not heard, higher education is broke. In today's economy I am lucky to have a job that I not only like but allows me the luxury of travel to some meetings that I genuinely enjoy as well as find important for my job. In an effort to save university money, I like to park and fly in Kansas City. Last night I drove to KC and spent the night to not only take advantage of the lower parking rate that hotels provide but to also avoid driving stoned because as I said, I don't fly without significant medicinal supports in place.

My flight was scheduled to leave this morning at 10:22. I arrived to the airport at 9:15 which leaves plenty of time for navigating oneself around KCI. Imagine my surprise when I arrived at the check in kiosk to learn that my flight had already left. What????

It seems that there was a schedule change LAST WEEK and CHEAP TICKETS FAILED to notify me of this little tidbit of information. I was lucky though because they have another flight that promptly leaves at 4:30 and arrives in Denver at 5:17. You see, you can't fly from KC to Orange directly, you must first transfer in Denver. I am now scheduled to leave Denver at 6:15 and arrive on the West coast at 7:38. This leaves me stranded in the KC airport for the next 7 hours. Being a frequent traveler I have come prepared with many items to work on and am camped out near the US Customs and Border Protection office at the airport. This seems like the least busy place around at this time so it is nice and quiet.

I however, did NOT bring enough items to keep me busy for the entire 7 hours and this is where you come in. You see, I figure you guys owe me some form of entertainment for neglecting to notify me of this important flight change. As I said, I am sitting at the international flight arrival and federal inspection service gate all alone with the exception of one other guy and his buddy who are speaking with federal agent Curtis about his impending deportation to Somalia or Ethiopia (hes not really quite sure where) while he argues via an interpreter on a cell phone that should he fly back to his mother country his tribes' men will swiftly take his life. (you cannot make this stuff up). Anyway, that is where I am and I will wait for you here.

When you arrive we can discuss the changes to my return flight. I was scheduled to leave Orange county at 3:00 pm on Saturday and the ticket agent told me, once I was wise enough to ask, that my return flight would now leave California af 6:45 am. This will require me to leave the conference early on Saturday thus missing the morning sessions. My idea is that you will send a cheap tickets representative to attend the meeting and take notes for me on Saturday morning. This seems like the most logical way to proceed wouldn't you agree? Looking forward to seeing you soon!

All the best,

Midlife Melissa

P.S. Could you bring an electrician along with you? This place has only 4 outlets and they appear to all be on the ceiling. In the event that you cannot locate an electrician in a timely manner, perhaps you could just bring a ladder or some scaffolding to sit on or something like that. My electronic devices could use some juice.

Me + travel = putting it into perspective

In the movie "Paul Blart Mall Cop" the actor Kevin James says "I don't drink" before during and after making a complete fool of himself while drinking. If I were co-starring in this movie with Kevin, my line would have been "I don't fly."

I flew for the first time in 1985 with my French class to London. They sat us in the nose of the plane (no kidding, the space came to a point)and off we went. When we were half way there, the flight personnel began to offer us alcohol because we were far enough along to be under the auspices of the European drinking age of something like 9. I was 17 and the chaperones were all asleep. I had a beer and a motion sickness pill and slept the rest of the way.

I flew several other times in the following years and truly never had any problem. Then, in 1999 I boarded a plane to Germany to visit my dad. I had learned 24 hours before that I was pregnant with Alex. I quit caffeine cold turkey (something I do not recommend on an international flight where jet lag will most certainly be a factor) and off I went. Somehow, during that flight, I decided I was afraid to fly. I don't know if it was the fact that I was carrying a passenger of my own or the lack of a liquid stimulant coursing through my body but I was less than comfortable even WITH alcohol.

I fly a lot. I refuse to let it control my life so I take a Xanax with an alcohol chaser and off I go. Today, I arrived at the airport in Kansas City at 11:00 am for a 12:40 flight. The beauty of the KC airport is that it is extremely user friendly. There are like 5 people who work here and the luggage carousel is next to the ticketing counter. When I checked in and began to go through security I was told my plane was delayed and wouldn't I like to go have lunch? Sure. I had nothing else to do so I processed to the nearest bar and had a salad and a beer. The airport is not very big but I did have to walk from one end of the terminal to the other to find a watering hole. The bar was next to the American ticket counter. I used the restroom across from the American counter and then walked the (felt like) mile or so back to the "Frontier" gate.

I don't usually carry on luggage as I typically like to pack one outfit for everyday plus a spare for everyday and in order to pull this off I need to pack in something the size of a garbage dumpster on wheels. I don't know if it is old age or what but I significantly downsized for this trip and fit everything neatly into a carry on size piece.

Now, because I never carry on I am less than familiar with the regulation size for liquid materials. I packed toiletries like I always do and fortunately, most were in travel sizes of 3oz or less. The toothpaste was larger but my nice new security officer friend told me he would let that slide. What he could not allow me on the plane with was my shampoo and conditioner. I am in the habit of being frugal with shampoo and typically only buy 99 cent Suave products. However, last week I was having my hair cut and decided to splurge on Redkin Blonde Glam shampoo and conditioner. To say it was pricy is an understatement but I kept thinking of the commercials that Diane Keaton is in and decided I was worth it. The security officer did not agree though and my pricy blonde glam was confiscated. I began to hope that my hotel in D.C. carried shampoo AND conditioner because I hate the bottles of the 2 in 1 stuff like Pert that often come complimentary in hotels.

After being thoroughly checked for other shampoo-related terrorist belongings, I was released just in time to have the security alarm go off. Some would-be passenger had been let into the gate via some back and illegal door and the attention of the security staff went from me to the newest breech of security person. I eyeballed my blonde glam in the trash and briefly entertained the idea of re-claiming it and sneaking it on the plane. I decided against it and plopped down in a seat across from the boarding gate door. I got my phone out to begin to text my friends to pray for me because like I said, "I don't fly."

The problem is, my phone was NOT there. It was then that I turned into a crazy woman and lost my mind. I unpacked EVERYTHING right there on the floor and dumped out my purse. Nothing. I ran back to the security friend and asked if he could watch my bag while I left the secure area to look for the phone. He told me he could NOT watch my bag and had already gotten into trouble after he left me earlier in mid security check to run to the woman who had set off the alarm. I don't think we are friends anymore.

I RAN out of the terminal and sprinted the mile back to the bathroom where I had been. It was not there. I ran 180 degrees in the opposite direction to the Frontier counter to see if anyone had turned in a phone. As I ran past my gate I noticed that the boarding line was dwindling. The Frontier ticket agent told me to pick up a white phone and call airport security so I did. The nice security man on the phone told me he did not have my phone but if I gave him the number he would call it. I gave him the number and waited. Then I told him my phone was OFF. Wow. I am not even a REAL blonde.

I ran the mile back in the opposite direction to the American counter where my restroom was and got in line. Sweat is pouring down my face. Makeup is running onto my white turtle neck and my lower lip is quivering. I finally get to my turn in line and heave myself and all of my belongings toward the agent and ask if anyone had turned in a cell phone. My agent did not have it........but the agent next to him DID. I missed my flight and slumped away to a chair outside the American terminal.

As tears streamed down my face mixing in with the running makeup I found myself staring at a cement wall. I have no idea how long I sat like that but eventually my phone, now in my hand, vibrated. I looked down to see a text message that said "this is airport police. If you find this phone please call this number." I started to cackle and laughed myself silly for 10 minutes. People stared and I made my way the mile back to the Frontier counter and changed my ticket to the next flight to D.C. I was originally scheduled to leave at 12:45 and then 1:30. My new departure time is 6:40 pm. I have been sitting in this airport for 4 hours already and I have another 3 to go. Things could always be worse. The KC airport has free WIFI allowing me to blog and receive papers from students via e-mail to grade. I have my health and the streaks on my face have dried. My blonde glam hair is beginning to unstick itself from the back of my neck and soon I plan to get up and look for an outlet to charge the phone that was thankfully found.

I don't fly.

Elaine's gift

Just before Christmas break I was observing one of my students in our local Early Childhood Center.  Elaine is a "non-traditional" student in the sense that she is NOT 18-25, she IS married with a child and this is a second career move/choice for her.  (And YES, I DID get her permission to mention her first name).  Being new to the clinical practice experience, she often worries that her treatment plans are not good enough and that she makes too many mistakes.......basically everything a new clinical student worries about.  She sees children for speech and language therapy individually or in groups of two every 30 minutes for 2.5 hours.  On this particular day, she was beginning treatment with a new child.  On her way out of the therapy room door she told me she was heading to this new child's classroom to pick up Lily (I am of course making up the name here) to add to her other child at that time thus creating a two person  group.  (For the purpose of this blog, I will call the other girl "Angie".....again, a fictitious name)


Elaine had been seeing Angie individually all semester. Angie is basically non-verbal.  Angie makes a few noises and occasionally tries to imitate the /b/ or /p/ or /m/ sound but mostly she hides under the table and refuses to do anything, coming out only for snack which (conveniently--NOT) falls in the middle of Elaine's therapy time.  In short, Angie was difficult for anyone to work with, especially a beginning clinician.  The one thing Elaine had going for her was that she was "non-traditional" and with age came experience with life and particularly children that she brought to the table.  Even that though, was never quite enough and we all became frustrated with the situation.

When Elaine was leaving the speech room to go get Lily, she was told by two other speech-language pathologists on her way out to "be careful" because Lily NEVER EVER EVER talks but what she does do is CRY and she is very good at that particular skill.  Elaine passed me as I was seated on the other side of the partition, kind of like a confessional.  (I could hear Elaine's therapy but I had to stand up and peek over the partition to actually see Elaine and her children because having me stand over them often freaked them out causing even more non-participation and hiding under the table.)  As Elaine passed me she said under her breath, "I'm just warning you, I am WINGING this!"  I completely understood this having just heard what the other therapists said and I patiently waited for her to return.

A few minutes later, in walked Elaine with Angie holding one  hand and Lily holding the other.  They got around into their "corner" and sat down at their table.  Elaine said, "okay girls, what should we do today?  I have bubbles.....look" (pointing to the shelf above her where she cleverly keeps all of her materials--or what James often refers to as a therapist's "bag of tricks").  Lily stood up, squealed, clapped her hands and said "bub!"  Angie looked at her.  Elaine looked at her.  I peeked up over my partition and looked at her and the other therapists who were working at their desks suddenly stopped typing and listened to make sure they really heard Lily actually say something.  Angie then stood up and said /b/ a few times and Elaine blew some bubbles, standing up to peer at me wide-eyed over the partition.  I made a circular hand motion to indicate "just keep going!" and she did.

Over the next 30 minutes, I was joined by my fellow therapists in my hiding place and we listened as Lily said "bubbles,"  "more bubbles," "my turn," "c'mon Angie," and "pop."  WOW.  Lily who never ever talked to anyone including her classroom teacher was running the show and Elaine who was functioning in a daze of disbelief kept going.  I can't remember what other activities they did that day but if it was a puzzle, or coloring or board game, Lily spoke and Angie TRIED.  At one point, Lily went so far as to put her  hand over Angie's to show her how to put her puzzle piece into its correct spot.  It was truly unexpected and most amazing.

Now, I don't really know what happened that day and it doesn't really matter to me.  In fact, we collected no data that day at all. What I do know is that Elaine, who had been diligently trying very hard all semester to coerce Angie into speaking, was on the receiving end of some success with the help of a little girl (who NEVER talks) named Lily.  What I do know is that it was a gift.  Was it Elaine's gift of an amazing therapeutic disposition or was it a gift TO Elaine given by Lily?  I have no idea.  I have observed that group once again since school has started for this semester and I can tell you that Elaine's gift continues.  Lily speaks and Angie tries. Sometimes, I just love my job!