Change your story

I read this today:

"On this day...To my sons I would like to say...all of our life comes to us in narrative form; it's the story we tell. Change the story and you change your life. Do not tell the story of how hurt you are that he is gone, but instead speak of how much you have learned from him. Do not speak of how you cringe when someone else speaks of their father, but cherish and proudly shout out about who he was to you in the short time you shared his life."

It was written from a mother to her sons concerning the death of their father. I find this important because today at class, A announced he was planning on proposing to his girlfriend. Being the only guy besides the teacher, the girls instantly pounced on him to give him advice. It ended up being a gabfest where four of the girls shared the details of how they got engaged (multiple times), married, divorced, re-engaged, etc. They even got the teacher to share how he proposed to his wife.

Another girl and I remained silent, as we commonly do, politely listening, and laughing when appropriate. I love stories and I love hearing people tell me their stories, so I was memorizing every detail. But as the teacher tried to rein us in ("Ok can we get back to massage for tension headaches now?"), the girls decided that next week, Andrea and I will be telling our "stories."

On the drive home I pondered what kind of a story could I tell? Most of the women in the class are on the other side, married (legally or in spirit), with kids, a career, basically settled. My story could be simple if I let it. On the other hand I can choose to focus on the romantic parts of it because I know that's what they will be looking for.

I started to tell myself my story, to see what I would say. I realized that my story is unlike the rest of theirs. I realized that my story contains no harsh words about my exes, no lingering hurt or pain, and is full of acceptance at the way my life has turned out. I do not wish to paint my exes in a negative light.

It is interesting the way that growth and maturity have allowed me to change the focus of my story. And the story that they will get next week, is the story of how I changed my life.

Saint Patty's Day

So I figured I'd better get my pictures up before its April. I redid the henna in my hair, something I haven't done since August. I waited so long because I wanted to let my hair grow a little so I could cut the insanely red ends off. Then I touched up the roots which were no longer roots but went several inches down. And all of this I did before Saint Patrick's Day, so I could get in touch with my Irish blood.

(Note: I used henna, but even lil ol' Irish me can't handle the flaming red color. This is henna mixed with instant coffee. Not as good as coffee grinds, but a lot easier to wash out afterwards.)





No idea what I was talking about... probably wasn't anything important.




Running around because its springtime (almost).


Inspecting it...

Clinic

So I work in a clinic giving massages to people for a cheap price because I'm a student.

One client told me about a hamstring injury three days ago (!). When I got to the hamstrings, they were as soft as butter so I have no idea where this client thought the hamstrings were.

Another got on the table and said, "Can you work on my subscapularis?" What? The general public is not supposed to know that word!

After each massage the clients are given evaluation sheets where they can anonymously let us know what they thought of the massage. At the end of the night we can look over them for feedback. One of my classmates, B, looked at her papers and saw that a client, instead of circling "excellent" circled "good" and wrote "very" over it. The comedian in the class jumped on that and started joking around but then saw S's evaluation forms. One of her clients had decided that the massage was not "excellent" but it was "good +++."

I just don't get it sometimes.

Revisiting old writings...

This is my blogger post #900. Wow. To think that that much bull could come from my fingertips is amazing.

In honor of the occasion, I would like to share with you a few things I wrote many years ago, before blogs were invented.

This one is dated May 18, 1994. The worksheet lists ten nutrition tips. My assignment was to choose three of them and explain why they are good tips:

#8. Don't soak fruits and vegetables before storing them because you will wash away the nutrients.
My answer: "In all our healthfood items it says how they make the food. It never says, 'We soak vegetables before we put them in chip dough.'" Chip dough was underlined and questionmarked in red pen.

#4. Don't drink coffee or tea with your meals because both reduce the amount of iron that gets into your system.
My answer: "I think this is good, I didn't know about the tea but I know coffee causes brain damage." Another red question mark. To think that I later grew up and worked in an Espresso Bar.

#9. Cook food right to preserve the nutrients because it is possible to destroy the nutritious value of foods by overcooking.
My answer: "this is good, Mommy usually burns food and if I eat its, I might get a cough." Not only is this horrible grammar and punctuation and capitalization, it also probably had my teacher falling out of her chair.

Hope you enjoyed. Happy 900th, blog!

Shot off the soapbox

So there's a woman in my anatomy class who tends to... lets say "sell" a healthy way of life. Which is good. She's not trying to sell an actual product, or rip you off. She just wants you to be healthy. She explains to you why you shouldn't use plastic bottles (they leach chemicals into your drink) and why its good to exercise, eat healthy foods, etc. I can feel her staring at the back of my head when I snack on my tortilla chips in class, and I want to turn around and shout at her, "They're from the health food store, leave me alone!"

Yesterday, one of the guys in the class mentioned McDonald's, in the context of a story that was similar to this: "When I was 6 we watched a movie about how bad fast food is and then my dad took us to McDonald's." I suppose she assumed he was still eating at McDonald's every night of his life since then, because she started to tell him about how inhumane McDonald's is.

"The cows are held in mass quantities in large pens, knee deep in feces, and are fed corn. Because they are fed corn, they have to be slaughtered before a certain age because corn is not good for them and they will die if they eat only a diet of corn. As long as they can physically drag the cow off the truck and have it still breathing, then they are allowed to slaughter it and put it in a burger. So when you eat a burger, you are eating parts of at least 1000 different cows (thats how processed it is) and they have all been malnourished and unhappy."

I sometimes wish I were a robot or droid or something so that every time I hear something like that, a little alarm will go off and I will start blinking neon lights and shouting "Soapbox, Soapbox!!" without it actually being considered rude ('cause you know, that's just how the programmer made me.)

At the end of her rant, she looked at him saying, "So that's why my daughter has become a vegetarian." And looked at him pointedly, as if to say that he should immediately call the girl and tell her what an inspiration she is and that he would immediately take a vow of veganism to join her in her cause.

Instead he said, "So?"

Silence.
"Doesn't that bother you?"
"Nope."
More silence.

I guess it pays not to have a conscience.

A fun little thing

Go to this website: http://www.joshhosler.biz/NumberOneInHistory/SelectMonth.htm

Do a search and find out what song was #1 on the charts on the day you were born. Then leave me a message to let me know! Why? Cause I'm curious.

Mine is "When Doves Cry" by Prince.

Also fun is to look up the songs for other memorable dates, like the day you and a special someone first became "an item" ("Ain't it Funny -Murder Remix" by J-Lo and "We belong together" by Mariah Carey) or the day you made a mistake ("Foolish" by Ashanti), or your first day away from home at a large State University ("Dilemma" by Nelly).