Taking Care of You
This is short and sweet: Take 30 minutes just for yourself today. Spend them either walking alone, listening to music, reading a chapter or booklet you've been putting off, or just sitting outside waiting for a cool breeze. The key to getting quality time for yourself in this way is NOT turning on the television, checking your e-mails, answering the telephone or opening snail mail. This is your time and no one or nothing else's. You'll feel indulgent and, dare I say, more relaxed if you just take time for you. It's not easy, but give it a try...I will, too!
Tuesday, May 30, 2006
Friday, May 19, 2006
No Class…
I was thinking one morning about what a classist society we really are. Don’t get me wrong; I know some might say it’s obviously so with the whole lower, middle and upper class distinctions, but a majority of Americans tend to identify ourselves as middle class across the board. And that’s also considered more a matter of economics than bloodline. That said, we claim we’re not classist and look down upon the “blatant” classicism of places like England with its blue-blooded lords and sirs and ladies, but we’re just as guilty. Take a very basic example, the airlines (although I know they’re the same for most countries). They have three clear categories: business class, first class and coach, the operative word in the first two being class. And it’s the same for the train. There’s a clear separation between those in business class and the regular folk. I found that out during a road trip I took from Newark Penn Station to a remote station in South Carolina.
I’d decided, while four months pregnant, to take a nostalgic trip alone by train to visit family in the South. It was during Spring Break and would give me the opportunity to take some “me” time for writing and reading during the 12-plus hour ride (and “plus” it was, especially coming back). Well, the treatment and facilities for the non-business-class riders were definitely sub-par. I couldn’t get my heavy third bag into the overhead compartment because I didn’t want to strain at a delicate point in my pregnancy, and there was no one on staff who was willing to help me. My husband would have, of course, but he was unable to board with me since there was such a short window of time between the train’s arrival and departure. In the end, I was advised to just push it over to an area where bags could just stand. I was not impressed. Okay, I digress.
I guess the point of the matter is that we do have double standards, maybe triple, in this country based upon status and standing. If you’re wealthy or a celebrity or both, you’ve got carte blanche. If you’re less fortunate or in need, you’re on your own, in most cases, not all. If you ask me, that’s not just low class, that’s no class. That’s just my opinion. What’s yours?
Thursday, May 18, 2006
What’s Your Reward?
Have you noticed that every credit card, bank card, gas card…is offering rewards points these days? And I’m reward tracker #1. Let’s see, I’ve garnered gift cards for Babies ‘R Us, Red Lobster, Chili’s, Starbucks, BP gas and a few others. Of course, they’ve only ranged from $10 to $25 in value on average, maybe $50 once or twice. I haven’t even tried for anything beyond the gift cards because you’ve got to spend about a million dollars to earn a decent prize. That’s why I haven’t made it past the $50 mark. Don’t have the time or the patience. “Ooh, I get a whole $25 for spending $2,500 over the past six months? I’ll take it!” Call me simple, but I’ll take mine now. I may not live to see the 50,000-point trip to Hawaii.
So, what’s the best thing you’ve ever traded in your points for to date? Maybe I’m missing out on something after all. Of course, it has dawned on me that it’s much cheaper just to go out and buy my own reward. It’s kind of like when you go to the amusement park or boardwalk and spend $40 trying to win a $10 stuffed animal or toy. Then again, I figure as long as I’m using the card(s) (which I haven’t been so much lately), I might as well get something else out of it. But maybe it’s time to renegotiate our rewards, America! How about an even lower annual fee, or elimination of surcharges? What, no go? Okay, I might even be willing to take a toaster for now. In the meantime, $10 gas card, here I come….
Have you noticed that every credit card, bank card, gas card…is offering rewards points these days? And I’m reward tracker #1. Let’s see, I’ve garnered gift cards for Babies ‘R Us, Red Lobster, Chili’s, Starbucks, BP gas and a few others. Of course, they’ve only ranged from $10 to $25 in value on average, maybe $50 once or twice. I haven’t even tried for anything beyond the gift cards because you’ve got to spend about a million dollars to earn a decent prize. That’s why I haven’t made it past the $50 mark. Don’t have the time or the patience. “Ooh, I get a whole $25 for spending $2,500 over the past six months? I’ll take it!” Call me simple, but I’ll take mine now. I may not live to see the 50,000-point trip to Hawaii.
So, what’s the best thing you’ve ever traded in your points for to date? Maybe I’m missing out on something after all. Of course, it has dawned on me that it’s much cheaper just to go out and buy my own reward. It’s kind of like when you go to the amusement park or boardwalk and spend $40 trying to win a $10 stuffed animal or toy. Then again, I figure as long as I’m using the card(s) (which I haven’t been so much lately), I might as well get something else out of it. But maybe it’s time to renegotiate our rewards, America! How about an even lower annual fee, or elimination of surcharges? What, no go? Okay, I might even be willing to take a toaster for now. In the meantime, $10 gas card, here I come….
Tuesday, May 16, 2006
Talking in Circles: The E-mail Loop...
Is it just me, or does anyone else out there have trouble cutting off e-mail messages? Someone sends you a message, you reply—or vice-versa—but neither of you seems to know where the virtual convers-E-tion ends. What follows is an endless trail of niceties (“Thanks.” “You’re welcome.” “Take care.” “You, too…”) until one of you breaks the cycle, still unsure as to whether the virtual dialogue has ended, or if you’ve maybe been rude, abrupt or just dropped off. And you end up spending another, I don’t know, 20 or so minutes trading signoffs like ping-pong balls—à la the classic cartoon chipmunks: “Thank you. No, thank you… No, thank you….”Okay, maybe that’s an exaggeration, but you get my point. Call it e-mail separation anxiety.
Whereas with a telephone conversation, you would both say good-bye without hesitation, not so with most e-mail speak. Not that I don’t like e-mail. Quite the contrary—I’m addicted. Maybe the answer’s closer than we think. We could always sample lingo from other places, maybe use walkie-talkie jargon like “over and out.” Somehow, though, nothing seems to fit.
All of this e-mail separation anxiety reminds me of an old Carol Burnett skit I once saw—I was just a child when it aired, of course. In the skit, the players are poking fun at office politics, or etiquette, so to speak. There are these two employees, let’s say Tim Conway and Harvey Corman for effect, though I’m not certain. If you don’t recognize the names (even younger than me, huh?), just picture Martin Lawrence and Steve Harvey pulling it off. So these two characters see each other at the office first thing in the morning and say a hearty “Hello.” Cool. When they see each other a little later on, out of courtesy, of course, they say hello again; but, by the third or fourth time, it’s getting a little tired and each of them is getting annoyed. It gets to the point where one finally resorts to climbing out of his office window and walking the ledge to avoid another meeting, but—you guessed it—he meets up with his officemate coming around the ledge’s corner.
Maybe you haven’t gone that far yet, maybe you have, but it just strikes me as kind of funny, that’s all. Hey, maybe you’ve solved the problem already. If so, could you give a sister a holler? Thanks. Bye. Peace out. ‘Preciate it. Take care….
Is it just me, or does anyone else out there have trouble cutting off e-mail messages? Someone sends you a message, you reply—or vice-versa—but neither of you seems to know where the virtual convers-E-tion ends. What follows is an endless trail of niceties (“Thanks.” “You’re welcome.” “Take care.” “You, too…”) until one of you breaks the cycle, still unsure as to whether the virtual dialogue has ended, or if you’ve maybe been rude, abrupt or just dropped off. And you end up spending another, I don’t know, 20 or so minutes trading signoffs like ping-pong balls—à la the classic cartoon chipmunks: “Thank you. No, thank you… No, thank you….”Okay, maybe that’s an exaggeration, but you get my point. Call it e-mail separation anxiety.
Whereas with a telephone conversation, you would both say good-bye without hesitation, not so with most e-mail speak. Not that I don’t like e-mail. Quite the contrary—I’m addicted. Maybe the answer’s closer than we think. We could always sample lingo from other places, maybe use walkie-talkie jargon like “over and out.” Somehow, though, nothing seems to fit.
All of this e-mail separation anxiety reminds me of an old Carol Burnett skit I once saw—I was just a child when it aired, of course. In the skit, the players are poking fun at office politics, or etiquette, so to speak. There are these two employees, let’s say Tim Conway and Harvey Corman for effect, though I’m not certain. If you don’t recognize the names (even younger than me, huh?), just picture Martin Lawrence and Steve Harvey pulling it off. So these two characters see each other at the office first thing in the morning and say a hearty “Hello.” Cool. When they see each other a little later on, out of courtesy, of course, they say hello again; but, by the third or fourth time, it’s getting a little tired and each of them is getting annoyed. It gets to the point where one finally resorts to climbing out of his office window and walking the ledge to avoid another meeting, but—you guessed it—he meets up with his officemate coming around the ledge’s corner.
Maybe you haven’t gone that far yet, maybe you have, but it just strikes me as kind of funny, that’s all. Hey, maybe you’ve solved the problem already. If so, could you give a sister a holler? Thanks. Bye. Peace out. ‘Preciate it. Take care….
Flip-flop Fashion?
Okay, maybe I’m getting old, but when did flip-flops become a fashion statement? I know they do wonders for our feet at the beach, but now they’re popping up everywhere from store windows to college graduations—and not just in hot weather! I teach on a campus in the mountains, and I was shocked to see students on the coldest of winter morns donning their sweaters, coats and the latest in flip-flop fashion on their cold, icy feet. What gives? So, I was at the mall the other day, and I saw mannequins in a very swanky, hip store—along the lines of Banana Republic, but another name—with flip-flops of differing styles and hues. And I have to admit, I thought to myself, “Those look kind of stylish dressed up that way.”
Now, I’m not knocking the thongy little shoes. I actually own a few pair myself: sequin-lined, cowry-shell-adorned, basic black… I just wonder when they became so fashionable. There’s always a flipside, of course (excuse the pun). Do you flip-flop?
Okay, maybe I’m getting old, but when did flip-flops become a fashion statement? I know they do wonders for our feet at the beach, but now they’re popping up everywhere from store windows to college graduations—and not just in hot weather! I teach on a campus in the mountains, and I was shocked to see students on the coldest of winter morns donning their sweaters, coats and the latest in flip-flop fashion on their cold, icy feet. What gives? So, I was at the mall the other day, and I saw mannequins in a very swanky, hip store—along the lines of Banana Republic, but another name—with flip-flops of differing styles and hues. And I have to admit, I thought to myself, “Those look kind of stylish dressed up that way.”
Now, I’m not knocking the thongy little shoes. I actually own a few pair myself: sequin-lined, cowry-shell-adorned, basic black… I just wonder when they became so fashionable. There’s always a flipside, of course (excuse the pun). Do you flip-flop?
Monday, May 15, 2006
Romancing Your Passion:
Make Time for What Drives You
What are you doing with your time when you’re not at work? Eating and sleeping aside, are you putting as much time into making your passions and your dreams a reality as you are into someone else’s bottom line? I know experts say we should all get our seven to eight hours of sleep, but I’ve found that some of the most successful among us average much less. Are you falling asleep on the job when it comes to your life dream—catching z’s when you should be making g’s? Maybe that’s an exaggeration, but you get the picture.
I’m a new mom, and I’ve found that my “days” don’t usually begin until after 9 or 10 p.m. after the little one’s in bed and I’ve had a chance to eat and wind down from the day of work or play. Within the past six weeks, I’ve taken back my nights and begun to use them as my time for writing, planning and following up on plans. It’s made a major difference in my life as a teacher, writer, mother and wife. And it’s made me feel like I’m grounded again, like I have something to offer the world. It feels good.
I find that I personally go through highs and lows, bouts of drought and creativity, but it takes a real focus and a clear plan to stay refreshed through those dry periods. So, pull out your calendar and notebook and set some goals for the remainder of the year, if you haven’t already. Even writing down and establishing one per day is a start. I have a list of “2006 Writing Goals” hanging on the wall in front of my computer. It includes eight simply written statements of what I’d like to accomplish for the year. I’ve completed one and at least two others are “in the works,” so it can work.
What’s your passion, your dream? Show me yours and I’ll show you mine. Have a productive day (or evening, or night, depending)!
Make Time for What Drives You
What are you doing with your time when you’re not at work? Eating and sleeping aside, are you putting as much time into making your passions and your dreams a reality as you are into someone else’s bottom line? I know experts say we should all get our seven to eight hours of sleep, but I’ve found that some of the most successful among us average much less. Are you falling asleep on the job when it comes to your life dream—catching z’s when you should be making g’s? Maybe that’s an exaggeration, but you get the picture.
I’m a new mom, and I’ve found that my “days” don’t usually begin until after 9 or 10 p.m. after the little one’s in bed and I’ve had a chance to eat and wind down from the day of work or play. Within the past six weeks, I’ve taken back my nights and begun to use them as my time for writing, planning and following up on plans. It’s made a major difference in my life as a teacher, writer, mother and wife. And it’s made me feel like I’m grounded again, like I have something to offer the world. It feels good.
I find that I personally go through highs and lows, bouts of drought and creativity, but it takes a real focus and a clear plan to stay refreshed through those dry periods. So, pull out your calendar and notebook and set some goals for the remainder of the year, if you haven’t already. Even writing down and establishing one per day is a start. I have a list of “2006 Writing Goals” hanging on the wall in front of my computer. It includes eight simply written statements of what I’d like to accomplish for the year. I’ve completed one and at least two others are “in the works,” so it can work.
What’s your passion, your dream? Show me yours and I’ll show you mine. Have a productive day (or evening, or night, depending)!
The High Cost of Gassing Up: Dancing with “E”
I have to tell you, I’m not one for taking chances, but with gas prices skyrocketing by the hour, the “dte” (distance to empty) reading in my car has become my best friend. I commute about an hour to work three times a week, and the cost is getting out of hand. I’m down to playing Russian roulette with my gas tank. Does dte 15 really mean I’ve got just 15 miles left in there, or is there a reserve that can buy me another 10 to 15 miles? I’ve had to pull off of 287 on a couple of occasions in fear of cutting it too close, but getting an extra trip out of my maxed-out tank seems almost worth it. I did have the good sense to go for a four cylinder model when I replaced my sporty V6 after it crossed the 103,000 (or more) mile point. This one’s great on gas in comparison, but that doesn’t take the bite out of the latest gas price hikes. I’m still getting robbed at the pump while oil companies break records for profits in the billions. Something’s just wrong with that picture. Ah, the good old days—when I never let my tank go below 1/4 full, in case of emergency. Those days are gone. Now I’m in a permanent state of emergency. Guess I’ll just continue dancing on “e” until a better option comes along. Brother, can you spare a ride?
(Hey, we could always charter a flight to Venezuela where gas is 12 cents per gallon!)
I have to tell you, I’m not one for taking chances, but with gas prices skyrocketing by the hour, the “dte” (distance to empty) reading in my car has become my best friend. I commute about an hour to work three times a week, and the cost is getting out of hand. I’m down to playing Russian roulette with my gas tank. Does dte 15 really mean I’ve got just 15 miles left in there, or is there a reserve that can buy me another 10 to 15 miles? I’ve had to pull off of 287 on a couple of occasions in fear of cutting it too close, but getting an extra trip out of my maxed-out tank seems almost worth it. I did have the good sense to go for a four cylinder model when I replaced my sporty V6 after it crossed the 103,000 (or more) mile point. This one’s great on gas in comparison, but that doesn’t take the bite out of the latest gas price hikes. I’m still getting robbed at the pump while oil companies break records for profits in the billions. Something’s just wrong with that picture. Ah, the good old days—when I never let my tank go below 1/4 full, in case of emergency. Those days are gone. Now I’m in a permanent state of emergency. Guess I’ll just continue dancing on “e” until a better option comes along. Brother, can you spare a ride?
(Hey, we could always charter a flight to Venezuela where gas is 12 cents per gallon!)
Living in Real Time
Do you tend to set your watch or clocks ahead? I mean, outside of daylight savings time? I do. It’s crazy. My alarm clock is 10 to 11 minutes fast, my watch is 5 to 7 minutes fast, the car clocks are about 7 minutes ahead. It hit me one day how out of control the time thing was getting when I couldn’t figure out what time it really was: “Should I add three minutes, or is it six or seven?”
I couldn’t remember how fast the timepiece I was looking at was set. That’s when I realized I’d been living on borrowed time, quite literally. So I had to get to the root of the situation. And the question to myself was “why do we set all of our clocks fast?” The answer was simple: So that we can be on time, even ahead by a few minutes, when we’re rushing and not paying attention. And therein lay the real answer to my quandary. I shouldn’t be rushing through my days, through life. It would be so much better to live in real rather than borrowed time, I thought. But where to begin?
The starting point for me would have to be learning to say no. You’d think as a new mom—I have an 8-month old—I’d have learned by now, but no. Well, I’m happy to say I have done it, just once. I said no to an assignment to write a press release for someone. I’ll admit, the guilt outweighed the satisfaction with time saved at first, but I appreciated it later. That doesn’t mean I slowed down, though. I still teach, freelance and work on my new business, but I make sure to prioritize. And my priority is family first, then everything else. I’m sure my husband and son will appreciate it. They’re definitely worth my time, my real time.
Do you tend to set your watch or clocks ahead? I mean, outside of daylight savings time? I do. It’s crazy. My alarm clock is 10 to 11 minutes fast, my watch is 5 to 7 minutes fast, the car clocks are about 7 minutes ahead. It hit me one day how out of control the time thing was getting when I couldn’t figure out what time it really was: “Should I add three minutes, or is it six or seven?”
I couldn’t remember how fast the timepiece I was looking at was set. That’s when I realized I’d been living on borrowed time, quite literally. So I had to get to the root of the situation. And the question to myself was “why do we set all of our clocks fast?” The answer was simple: So that we can be on time, even ahead by a few minutes, when we’re rushing and not paying attention. And therein lay the real answer to my quandary. I shouldn’t be rushing through my days, through life. It would be so much better to live in real rather than borrowed time, I thought. But where to begin?
The starting point for me would have to be learning to say no. You’d think as a new mom—I have an 8-month old—I’d have learned by now, but no. Well, I’m happy to say I have done it, just once. I said no to an assignment to write a press release for someone. I’ll admit, the guilt outweighed the satisfaction with time saved at first, but I appreciated it later. That doesn’t mean I slowed down, though. I still teach, freelance and work on my new business, but I make sure to prioritize. And my priority is family first, then everything else. I’m sure my husband and son will appreciate it. They’re definitely worth my time, my real time.
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