Friday, October 13, 2017

My Piercing Story

My family, trying to get one of those cool jumping shots.

I am 46 years old, and I just got my nose pierced. You may say it's part of a mid-life crisis, but there is much more to it than that...

When I turned 40 I really wanted to make my birthday a big deal, but it wasn't. I wanted to feel different somehow, wanted to make a statement. That was the first time I considered getting my nose pierced. I pictured a tiny stud that was barely visible...tasteful. I mentioned the idea to friends and they squelched my fun, obviously thinking I was crazy. So I had fun in my head, having fun simply by imagining actually doing it. ...Saying I never would, but it was fun to think about.

Then this summer my family got together at the beach for my Dad's 70th birthday. We all crammed together in a rented beach house and spent the week getting to know each other better. It was incredible.

On the second night of the trip, we gathered with drinks on the balcony in our nightly ritual of talk and laughter. That's when someone mentioned getting a tattoo.

And I said, "We should all get wave tattoos to commemorate this trip!"

This led us to all begin dreaming up where we could get tattoos and what our waves would look like.

Then my dad leaned in and said, "I'll pay for it."

And suddenly it was real. The conversation got serious. 

But tattoos weren't really my thing. I told everyone, "What I always thought would be cool is to get my nose pierced."

My half-sister Jessica suddenly said, "Me too!" We began talking about the fun of the idea and also about our reservations...our ages, what people at work would think.

Then dad leaned in and added, "I'll pay for it."

And the planning actually began for real.

Every night we discussed the pros and cons. Who would get tattoos and who would get piercings. Who would do both. Would it hurt? We searched on our phones for ideas and motivation. 

Then on the last full day of our trip, nine of us headed for the tattoo parlor in town. I got a little wave behind my ear and a simple stud on the left side of my nose. Everyone got a wave tattoo or a piercing, or both. Even Dad got a wave on his arm. I'm sure the employees of the place got a kick out of us.

Jessica and I kept looking at each other, marveling at the fact that we actually did it.

Back in Las Vegas, most reactions I got were positive. Some were reserved. Most people didn't comment at all, or didn't even notice. And that's okay.

What surprised me was the way my piercing made me feel. First of all, it was a memory of that awesome trip with my family...a souvenir of our bonding. 

But more than that, it made me feel empowered. For several years now, I have felt the effects of aging...feeling not so attractive, older, very un-cool. I used to be a singer/dancer...dressed in costumes and makeup. I traveled to far-off places and went on adventures. I did things that average people didn't. But all the people I come into contact with now have no idea of who I used to be...who I am inside. I'm not the normal run-of-the-mill person with average ideas. I dream big! I am not a conformist! I think bigger than our simple day-to-day drudgery!

And that is what I felt my piercing said. It was a statement to anyone who saw me that I am more than I appear. 

Then I developed a bump next to my piercing. The dermatologist did a biopsy several weeks later. Skin cancer.Talk about squelching my fun.

They did a mohs surgery to get rid of it, removing the stud and taking skin all around my piercing. Luckily they got it all in one try. 

When I expressed my concern about the fact that this developed right after my piercing, the surgeon told me that skin cancer can be reactive, so it could have progressed due to the piercing. I had planned to get my nose pierced again after this healed, but he advised me against it. He said not to get my nose pierced again, because the skin cancer could happen again.

So, I am destined not to be cool.

I'm not sure what I will do to recapture the feeling that piercing gave me. I don't want to do anything drastic, but I need something. 

Or, maybe the smarter thing is to try, daily, to do things that empower me. Get out there and make sure I am the person I want to be. Demonstrate it. Be it. Dream it. Do it.



 

Wednesday, October 4, 2017

Las Vegas


I am sitting at my computer, trying to figure out something to say about Sunday night, but everything I think of is a cliche. So instead, I will share this photo I took of George years ago, with Vegas in the background. 



Saturday, July 1, 2017

I Will Wear My Red, White and Blue


The 4th of July is coming, and I have to say that for the first time, I'm not as excited about it as usual. I didn't realize the change until I was in a store recently, and when I saw all the flag-printed clothing, it made me think of Trump instead of the USA. I feel like some people are using their flag flying as a statement of "in-your-face-I-love-Trump-F-U" instead of it being a representation of our country and its people and its great history.

I guess I'm seeing the flag as what I feel it means to the rest of the world. Looking at us from their eyes, I'm embarrassed.

But on the 4th, I will wear my red, white, and blue, avoid the news, and try to focus on what those colors mean to me. And I will try to teach that pride to my son as well. Wish me luck.


Thursday, June 22, 2017

It's a Dry Heat, blah blah blah


Of course I must write about the heat. This week we've had highs up to 117 degrees. So that issue is permeating everything about our life right now. Someone once said that Las Vegas' heat is like opening the oven door when you're baking cookies, but there are no cookies, and you're stuck in the oven. So true.

Yes, it's dry heat. Whatever. For some reason that overused phrase annoys me. Yes, it's dry, but that only means that sweat evaporates quickly. It's still freaking hot. We stay indoors and crank up the air conditioner. Businesses over-cool their interiors, and everyone spends the summer carrying around bottled water and a sweater and applying extra layers of lotion and sunscreen.

I think the worst part of the heat is that it stays so hot at night, so there is never any actual relief. Take a look above at the temp from 10pm one night. Crazy hot. I like to be outside...I miss being outside...but we're all stuck inside during this.

People like to live here to avoid snowy cold winters. But what is really the difference when you have to avoid the outdoors either way? We run from one temperature-controlled space to the next, avoiding the outside temp in both situations.

I would like to take my son to the pool this weekend, but it's just too hot outside. What a crazy thing to say.




Sunday, April 23, 2017

Book Memories


One of the most important lessons my mom passed on to me was how to make the small things special. Cuddling up together on the couch in a cozy blanket? Oooh, fun! Filling the bird feeder outside and waiting for the birds to come? Suspenseful! Trying a new cookie recipe? Exciting!

I am so lucky that the little things in life were appreciated.

Mom also taught me the love of books, and new books were a very special thing. One of my favorite book memories is when she introduced me to the Little House on the Prairie book series. Each time I finished one, we would make a special trip to the bookstore in Bloomington to buy the next book. Such anticipation!

Another favorite memory occurred on New Year's Day, 1984. Mom brought out her old paperback copy of George Orwell's 1984, and she began reading it out loud. It was a book that I wouldn't have read on my own, but together we were transported to a future, strange world that led us to talk about our current society and Orwell's look at our point in time.

Mom also read to me from a book of James Whitcomb Riley poetry. My favorite was "Little Orphan Annie," in which each stanza ended with, "And the gobblins'll get you if you don't watch out!" I learned that poetry could be scary and fun!

I think tonight I will dig out that old copy of Riley poems. I know my son will like them, too.




Friday, January 27, 2017

The Quest for Decency

My son colored my sign for me.

For the march last Saturday, I had trouble figuring out what to put on my sign. I didn’t want to put a funny quote or something angry; I wanted it to reflect my concerns in a serious manner. For a while I decided that there was just too much to write, and I would just paint a big heart on my sign. But then I realized I could sum up my concerns in just a list of words:

Art
Education
Environment
Equality
Healthcare
Decency

These are the things that I feel are threatened by the current administration.

I considered writing “Respect,” but that word, while a good one, can instill judgement and obligation. I prefer “Decency.”

Decency is a concept that cannot be argued. Respect, on the other hand, can be demanded, and people think it has to be earned. But how can anyone disagree with the value of decency? Isn’t it a core value? It is something that we need to use as a tool in our communication, in all our relationships, and in our politics. If our politicians treated each other with decency, they could hear each other and get more done. If our politicians spoke to us with decency, we might not be so afraid. If people treated each other with decency, the world would be a gentler, kinder place. Common decency could heal.


I worry about the loss of all the concepts in my list, but I think the “decency” one is almost the most important. How can we solve any of our problems if decency is missing?



Friday, January 20, 2017

Good Sportsmanship

Us in 5th or 6th grade...we were headed for basketball greatness!

One of the things I learned during my childhood in rural Southern Indiana was the value of being a good sport. This meant that you showed others with respect even if they won and you lost, even if they believed differently, and especially if you were the winner.

An example of this happened when I was in high school and our basketball team had its best season in the history of the school. At one game, while the opposing team's members were announced and each ran onto the court, for some reason that day some of our students in the stands decided to turn and put their backs to the opposition. I remember being appalled by this...it was so rude, so unwelcoming...so against what we had been taught in how to play fair and treat others with respect.

And our principal agreed. The next morning on the school announcements, Mr. Babcock spoke to us all in a stern voice. This was not the behavior he expected of his students. Never again did I see anyone attempt something like this at our school.

This morning as I drove to work, I listened to a bit of the inauguration. It was the portion when people were arriving, and the commentators were giving reports of the atmosphere.

Imagine my reaction when I heard them say that when Hillary Clinton appeared on the jumbo-tron, some of the crowd booed. And there were even chants of "Lock her up." Immediately I was sickened. Even in the game of politics, this is not how someone should be treated after they lose.

I have so much respect for the fact that Hillary is at this morning's inauguration. She is putting aside their differences and showing her respect for our country and our democratic process. That is true class.

The people in the crowd need to learn that there is a time for protest and a time for decency. I am so worried about the lack of decency that seems to be gaining momentum.

So for now, I'm going to try to teach my son to be a good sport. Treat others with respect whether you win or lose. It's a lesson so many still need to learn.