No More Resolutions

Resolutions have never worked for me.

Quite honestly, I don't know too many of my friends that have embraced resolutions with much success. But hey, whatever floats your boat.

Thanks to a move by my loving husband, shortly after the first of the year we will be credit card debt free for the first time in a VERY long time. While that may not seem like that big of a deal to most, for me, it's an immense weight off my shoulders and opens up 2015 to some real changes.

I've decided to spell them out, and work to achieve them. Again, these are NOT resolutions, these are changes that need to happen and now, have a real chance of becoming reality.

Figure out what you want to be when you grow up. 
Yes, I'm 51 and still trying to figure it out. I've had friends tell me, "list out what you like about what you do now." Great idea:

1. Team work; working as a group to a common goal, similar to Improv... a "yes, and.." attitude.
2. Problem solving; taking 25 years of experience, and thinking outside the box (I know, I hate that term too, but it applies here) and finding the best, most effective way to address the problem.
3. Mentoring; straight talk with the younger set. I miss working with a vibrant, young group of people who only want to learn and grow, and helping them realize their dreams.  More importantly, teaching them to not only manage UP, but also manage DOWN. If all you're doing is pleasing those above you, you are sometimes doing it at the expense of those who report to you. The dialogue HAS to go both ways. 
4. Running the project; what I mean by this, as with New Business, they are projects that demand a lot of attention in a short amount of time. There are always a lot of balls in the air, and it's a symphony of moves that can be derailed at any time if you're not on top of your game.
5. Silent hero; this is the result of all of the above. You share the glory of the finished project, but you still feel the satisfaction (personally) that you pulled it off and were a key part of the final product. Yeah, it's nice to be recognized publicly (nominated my first year at my current job as Unsung Hero), but it's the knowing nod or smile with the teams you worked with to pull it off. 

This list has helped me define some things for myself and what I need to be doing to be happy, fulfilled and be a contributing member of an organization. Much of this could be applied to my time at the Annoyance Theater, performing, directing and helping market and plan events. See my conundrum? 

Anyone who knows me, knows titles mean little to me, unless it's "Best Friend," "Best Mom," or "Loving Wife/Daughter/Niece/Sister." I was handed a VP title at my job, so I just did the work we had agreed upon when they hired me, and then some. Three positive reviews, raises and bonuses later, I figured things were cool.

I switched jobs less than a year ago, and haven't been experiencing the same successes or experiences listed above, (with the exception of a fairly good review, raise, bonus).

That brings me to my current introspection, and spending the early part of 2015 figuring out what it is that is best for the future for me and for a company I truly respect and enjoy. 

Health is a priority.

After some health scares this past year, it's truly time to get serious about living a more healthy life. I'm not talking about diets. Diets are great, but I want a switch in lifestyle. Eat healthier, move more, spend time with the kid—outside! It's not just for me, it's for the whole family. 

If something were to happen to me now, and Alan had to help me get up, move me or any of those things that come with an injured spouse, he couldn't. And I don't have the muscle tone or mass to help him. We have an 11 year old son. This is not a burden I would want my family to endure.

I always love those miracle pills and supplements on TV say they work, in conjunction with eating right and working out! Miraculous, isn't it? Yeah, I didn't think so either. Skip the pills, move your butt!  Move more, eat more veggies, less sugar, less fattening foods and move some more! Voilá! Healthier you!

This isn't neuroscience...well, on some level it is if you get your endorphins firing, you tend to crave better foods, less food, feel better... and get healthier. So, I take it back it can be complicated, but all you need to know is move, eat less, sleep, repeat! That's a goal for 2015.

Financial health 

Never been my bailiwick but it is now a goal. I've been doing the taxes for the last 4 years (thank you, TurboTax) and I've been itemizing because of some of our unique tax situations. That being said, I see what's coming in and going out. With the reset mentioned at the beginning of this blog, I am confronted with a tableau rosa, and a new start. 

My excel skills have progressed in the last few months, and I have a greater understanding of budgeting in our home. So I hope to work with ever-patient husband to develop a family budget and make prudent decisions going forward.

Sounds easy, but for me... it's going to take practice.

Lastly, More Fun... 

I have spent the better part of the last year working way too many hours. My lack of good eating habits has left me overweight and out of shape. My friends rarely see me. My family needs more fun time. The balance has to be met.

I want to do more things like Louder Than A Mom at Martyr's. My creative side needs an outlet. I thank Kate and Dee for inviting me to perform in November. I have never been MORE comfortable on stage. I thought I'd be nervous, but when I got up there and started, it felt great. I didn't invite any friends to come, because I haven't really been there for them this past year, so I didn't feel right asking. I sat with some older folks that were there to see another performer. They were sweet and kind and pretty funny. It was nice to be chatting with new people. 

I need more of my "girls"... that group of women I surround myself with that are thoughtful, witty, understanding, honest and think I'm funny. There are the moms at school, my old ad buddies, my theater friends, my old softball team, my high school gal pals (all over the country, but just to reconnect with), my college friends with whom I just recently reconnected. My family... dad, brother, stepmom, aunt...and all of them. My poor husband. Reconnection time with him, without the stress. My son. More time to take him to swimming lessons, or drum lessons, or (god-willing) basketball lessons. 

Just more time.

I've always prided myself on being a good friend, good wife, good daughter and good mother. I don't feel that way right now. 

2015 has to bring change. 

Not the year, but me. I have to bring the change. My attitude, my choices, my priorities all have to find their groove. If that means getting some outside guidance, then I'll do that. If it means taking a few hits, then I'll do that. 

But 2015 has to be the change I want for me and my family. 

I'm at my halfway mark in life. If I'm going to make a meaningful change for the better, why not now. The only thing holding me back is fear. 

Excuse my saying so... but in 2015, fuck fear.  Yeah, F**k Fear in '15!

I owe it to me. 

And when I fix it for me, it allows me to be a better person for my family, my friends, my work, my life.

A Box of Memories

Sue (my aunt) and I were going through some old art glass and collector's plates in the basement of the house. We were assessing whether they should be Ebay sales or if the auctioneer should be called to collect them for his next sale. 

Boyd lion

Bing & Grondel, Havilland, Frankoma all stacked in neat, labeled columns lined the top shelf of the basement storage. I never realized how many creepy clowns were melted into various colors of Moser glass. We found Degenhart and Boyd glass. Some of the colors are amazing, but how many relaxing lions in blue carnival glass can you have on a shelf. AND, who's going to dust it? I barely keep up with the work that needs done now! Same goes for the St. Clair glass paperweights of which I found a box.

I can't imagine the clowns would sell on eBay for as much as they were purchased. Maybe the St. Clair, but it's been decided that the auctioneer should handle their sale. 

Unique St. Clair paperweights

I did confiscate the Havilland plates for the 12 Days of Christmas (there are only 9 to be found). I also liked the bird plates but I think Alan would start to balk if I put those in the car.

But, the greatest find was a box of clippings. My great grandmother Graham had collected all sorts of clippings about all the members of her family, from her 8 children to her 15 grandchildren. In particular, two articles my mom had written when she was a senior in high school. 

I wanted to share her writing. I always found her funny, entertaining and insightful. And these articles seem to bear that out, and what she wrote about then is true now. 

Sandra's Column (circa 1959; Sandra Beanblossom, editorial)

Mom in 1966, that's me on the left.

Hi! Everyone seems to think I've reformed and quit writing articles that you can't understand or that irritate you. You're wrong. Let me say that I know that many of you will never finish reading this and there will be two reasons for it: (1) some of you simply will not be able to understand it, and (2) many of you will madden because I'll be stepping on your toes. However, undaunted by your criticism, I press ever forward into new fields of conquest!

Seriously, however, this is what I want to talk about —America's Education System. (Don't quit now—it's bound to get more interesting!) This is a period when we need more educated people who are prepared to accept the responsibilities of leadership in several fields. It has been much publicized that we need more scientists, mathematicians, chemists, engineers, and so on. You've had that drummed into your dear little head until you're as sick of it as I am undoubtedly.

How, though, are we expected to turn out people qualified in these skills with a school system like that which we have? Our schools are preparing fine homemakers and farmers, but is that good? Is that the goal of an education? 

We, here at Lapel, have one of the best schools of our size in the state, right now. Even so, we don't come up the the standards of schools in the European countries. The American people, as a whole, have become complacent about the educational system and have not worried whether Johnny could read and work math, but spent much good money on Johnny's social adjustment. We are, therefore, a bunch of still-maladjusted know nothings who spent twelve years learning such things as how to drive an automobile, draw a picture, make a cke and play baskeball! I believe these things are rather out-of-place at a high school.

Along the line of unnecessary interruptions let me cite some of my pet peeves: (1) class money making projects which take school time; (2) non school related convocations; and this is an unpopular idea, I know, I don't see the point of class trips. Education? Possibly, for a few. But, is it right that the class spend the best part of the junior and senior years running around the countryside scraping up the money to take a few people clear to New York to go on a drunk? It's ridicules and absurd!

Well, I suppose my fan club has dwindled and my popularity poll has gone to a new low, but that's my opinion. I make no apologies.

Before I go on another tangent, I'll drop it.

Thought for the week:

I hereby propose one dat to be set aside as "Eddie Coyle Appreciation Day" in recognition of his feat of courage and valor when he reported the recent fire at Standard Elevator.


------
I really did want to know what her pet peeves were back then. They seem to have evolved over time.

When I was a child, mom was peeved about sexist laws, or the township not allowing me to join little league, or why more people weren't concerned about environmental damage, or how blatant ignorance abound. Mom was never short on opinions, informed and personal. And for those of you who know me, I guess you also know the apple doesn't fall far from the tree.

Dream Job

I've thought about this idea of a "dream job" for a good part of my 50 years on this earth.

When I was little, I was going to be a veterinarian, until I found out you had to cut up puppies and kitties to learn how to save them. Then, I wanted to be an marine biologist. Why not? I loved the water, swam all the time and I was in honors biology in middle school. Then we moved to Ohio, and I didn't think much farther than the end of my nose.

When it came to college, I chose a Finance/Marketing major. I took my first accounting class and thought, "F this!" and dropped the finance part. Marketing/Advertising, I liked it, but "dream job?"

Nah.

When I was younger, like 2 years old, I use to do voices.

One of those "conquered fear" times.

No, not HEAR voices… DO voices. My dad came home one night, and said to my mom, "I didn't know Ann had her little friends over?" To which mom replied, "Uh, she doesn't have any friends over." They opened my door to see me with a circle of stuffed animals, each of which I'd given a different voice.

Later I would imitate my hero's, Lilly Tomlin, Gilda Radner, Carol Burnett and that coupled with my sharp tongue, would often get me laughs or in trouble.

My delusions of grandeur had me dreaming of being one of them, on TV, making people laugh. Maybe I could just be a Joanne Whorley type, from Laugh In. I could be the chubby version of Gilda on SNL. I could craft a show and find my Tim Conway, Harvey Korman, Vicki Lawrence, Lyle Waggoner and have my own signature sign-off, like flipping my nose with my thumb while I tilt my head and stick out my tongue. I would daydream scenarios til I fell asleep.

In 6th grade I wrote a play, that my fellow students performed for me, "Charlie's Angels meets Starsky & Hutch." I cast it, I wrote it, I directed it and I acted it in it. I knew NOTHING…but I hadn't learned about "fear of failure" yet.

Sometime between our move to Ohio and adulthood, I learned all too well to fear failure. It has influenced many corners of my life. The only time I consistently keep it at bay is if I face it to help someone else. For some reason, I find it easier to face my fears if it's for someone else.

Every once in a while I tackle it for myself. I suck it up, look it straight in it's cold black eye, and beat it back and into success. I wish I could bottle that feeling. You really wonder, "why do I ever let fear keep me from  this moment?"

So, I sit here at 50, still trying to figure out…"what is my dream job." What is that job that everyday feels like it fits like a glove. You look forward to everyday, and while times might get trying now and again, you wouldn't trade it for the world.

This will be the 10th year for the LungRun in Chicago.
I've been top, individual fundraiser multiple years!

I've had moments of that feeling at many of my jobs. The one I have right now had been that way. I thrive in 'team' environments. I crave collaboration and problem-solving. I love when I can reward people for good work. I am over the moon when we pull together and bring a project across the finish line… and win it! If I was allowed to do that EVERY day… I could feel, and had felt, fulfilled.

Dream job? Oh, well, that is slightly different.

Take everything I mentioned up there, now add in a philanthropic level. If I could use what I know, and who I know, to raise awareness and funds for a deserving organization. If I could raise awareness of the underfunding of lung cancer research. If I could help homeless families find a way out of poverty and into a full life for them and their kids. If I could find a way to crowdsource a solution for funding all of those rare, nearly non-funded diseases like CureJM, that causes children daily pain, and possible death.

I've spent years meeting people, making friends, some of those friends going on to do amazing things. How can I leverage those friendships, my team building ability, experience and skills to help others? When I find that answer… I hope my fear is on vacation in a far away land, so I have the guts to go for it. Until then, I will do my level best to get back to those days of collaboration and fulfillment, while continuing my small, philanthropic endeavors, and hope that the opportunity presents itself, soon!

Caveat to my story. Many of you would say, "just go do it, Annie!" I would, trust me. I've painted myself into a corner from earlier bad choices and now I'm locked into a certain level of employment to keep afloat, and try to fix the mistake. But I am working toward a time when I can throw caution to the wind and attack this without fear, or concern. 

You Scared the Life Out of Me!

The last few months have been… interesting, to say the least.

Lots of changes at work, and some typical 10-year-old-kid angst, Alan traveling more for work and polar vortexes were all just the beginning of the eye-twitch inducing quarter.

About a month ago, I thought it was time to check in with all my appropriate doctors. Given all the stress and frustration coupled with turning 50, I thought it in my best interest to get all the particulars a seal of approval.

I had my physical all set, and then put it in my calendar exactly 1 week AFTER it actually was suppose to take place. Yep, brain burp, and yet another indicator of the need for examination. I rescheduled.

Next up, and not forgotten, my gyne visit. When you've gone through menopause, it's not as awful as it use to be. But I had had some pain in my lower left abdomen, so I thought it worth mentioning.

My visit went pretty text book, with him identifying my fibroid I've been carrying around for 18 years or more. But, he scheduled an ultrasound, he wanted to be safe. How could I argue? With women in my family having lost their battles with breast, ovarian and lung cancer, I'd take any opportunity to rule out any chance of possible deadly disease.

I showed up a week later and endured a relatively benign procedure. It only took about 10 minutes in total, and then I dressed to go meet with my doctor.

I had a feeling things weren't going the way I was hoping, when I saw his face. My normally affable physician actually had worry lines. His slow-paced demeanor was replaced with an anxious disposition. While my uterus lining was thinning, and there appeared to be more fibroids, the really disconcerting finding was fluid in my abdomen.

Don't bother googling it, there's nothing good about having fluid in your abdomen. The main concern of my doc's was that it might be ovarian cancer, since they couldn't see my ovaries during the examination. He was going to draw some blood for testing, and send an order over to radiology for an MRI on my abdomen.

He shared that his 80 year old mother had just been recently diagnosed for ovarian, and the only indicator had been this fluid on the abdomen.

Yeah, I remained calm, but on the inside it felt like insult being added to injury.

I couldn't wrap my head around it. Was this one of those moments that you're tested to find the lesson in all of it? My normally positive outlook, shot straight to the negative. It seemed that the cosmos was just piling on. Would I be able to find the pony at that bottom of the box of manure?

I took control, and made my MRI appointment as soon as I could. The Saturday after my gyne visit, I had a 7AM appointment to get this completed and hoping for more answers.

I've decided that all my major tests should be done at 7AM at the hospital. I parked on the 2nd floor, right by the bridge to the hospital. There was only one other person in the waiting room. I was in on time, and done within an hour and half of entering the hospital.

On Monday, I heard from my doctor. Looked like we were all clear on ovarian between the MRI and blood work. Whew.

BUT, they did still identify fluid on the abdomen, and his worry was that it might be associated with my melanoma. Could I have had 5 minutes of relief, please? No? Ok, we'll move on to what I do next to figure out what the hell is going on.

Test the fluid on my abdomen, via the interventional radiology. where they use ultrasound and a loooonnnnnngggg needle to draw fluid out of the abdomen and send it to testing.

Getting this appointment took a little longer than I liked, but after some "faxing orders" and "you need to call here" "not there" and more, I had it. My appointment was Monday, Feb. 17th, just after Valentine's Day.

Enter, snowstorm and miserable weather. Appointment is moved to Tuesday, February 18th. It's not been 12 days since the original, simple appointment.

It was a little busier in this department and my aunt went with me to keep me company, and probably because she was worried too. I looked around the waiting room, and wondered what the stories were with all these families. The elderly couple in the corner, who was being examined today? Was it him, did he have cancer? He had a bald head. The family of four, were they waiting on someone already back in the testing area? How were the kids doing? Shouldn't they be in school?

Your mind likes to think of things outside your world, so you don't focus on the negative you're thinking about when you do concentrate on you.

I walked back to the prep area. This was the test that would tell me exactly what the hell was going on, I just wanted it done, and the fluid out to the test facility. I changed, I joked with the staff, asked for a tummy tuck while they were sucking stuff out, etc. etc. All the usual deflection one of my personality would probably default to, but it seemed appreciated.

Through the prep curtains, I could hear some of the stories around me. The older man I had seen, was having a port put in. He did have cancer. From what it sounded like, he'd been battling it for a couple of years. There was a man in another area that I could hear nod off and snore til it sounded like he was drowning. Then his wife would say something, and he'd wake up to answer her.

Then it was my turn to be expertly wheeled out by Kelsey, my nurse. She navigated me left and right and between equipment to a little alcove room with an ultrasound machine and a tray of instruments. Our young lad who was still in training to earn his DR. came in and explained the procedure.

Numbing agent… burns a little going in… then needle for extraction…all while being observed on the ultrasound.

I joked with him about how I never should have googled my symptoms, and he commented on how sometimes ignorance is bliss. I agreed, but offered that knowledge was power, and I was hoping that the test results from the fluid would give us some answers and a course of action. He agreed, as he snaked the needle to it's intended dark spot in my stomach area.

He got to it in one try. I could see it all on the ultrasound. He pulled back on the plunger to extract the liquid…. nothing. He tried again. Again, nothing.

This is where I think the young doctors need some improv coaching. His face went straight to concern, he was going to get his attending, maybe the liquid was too viscous …talk talk talk. Poor kid.

Kelsey, my nurse, switched out with another nurse who had some awesome tattoo's. He was equal to the nursing task. Northwestern has great nurses, I learned that when mom was in Pallative Care there before she died. They rock.

So, the attending came in with the kid. He felt there simply wasn't enough fluid to extract anything, and his student had been right on the money. When he reviewed my MRI, he saw the fluid, but truly felt it was fluid that would resolve itself. He wasn't concerned and suggested a get a follow up ultrasound at my doctor's office in 2 weeks. If it hadn't resolved then we'd try something else.

ok?

My poor student dr. was so upset, more than me! I touched his arm, "what's wrong, I'm ok with this." He responded, "But knowledge is power, right? And you wanted answers and a plan of action. I can't do that for you. I'm sorry."

After three weeks of this path, I found myself comforting him. And I meant it. It was the first time in three weeks that I said, "I'll be ok, don't worry," and I meant it.

My follow-up is scheduled. Until then, I'll stay positive.

But, what came out of all of this, so far, is that I had really started to let others control my life and self-worth. I don't know when it happened, but this scare brought with it a clarity.

If I am to best care for myself, my family, my co-workers, I needed to take back the control I gave up. I needed to prioritize and rid myself of the things I can't change. I can't leave a legacy to my son that I'm a doormat or that I'm a passive participant in life.

Just that switch in mental attitude has brought to the forefront more opportunities for me. Karma has done it's bit to handle those things I can not. Hopefully, if I continue to practice what I preach to others, I can take back the control I lost, move into a more healthy future and learn when to say "enough" when the stress starts to build.

Friend's List By The Numbers

I enjoy Facebook.

I post and read a lot on Facebook.

I also participate on LinkedIn, Twitter and other social networks.

I've been lucky to have reconnected with friends as far back as kindergarten, while also enjoying new connections as recent as my latest coworkers.

But when I saw my "friend's list" on Facebook has reached 1,243 (even more at the time of this blog), I couldn't imagine that all of these people would be true "friends." I even know of a few people that are easier to just keep in my list than to unfriend them, and deal with the fallout.

So, over the last week or so, I took an in-depth look at my friend's list. Here's where I netted out:

So, when you evaluate any list like this, you have to develop a criteria. Some of mine are pretty obvious, like "Family." For me, this was anyone who is a blood relative or married into my family tree. Currently, I have 65 members on Facebook that represent "family."

Cool!

Next, I identified my "Dearest Friends." These are the people who I've been through the fire with, who I've considered "family" on some level, who I would go to bat for and who would do the same for me. I was flabbergasted to find I had 52 in this category. How lucky I am to have so many souls out there to whom I feel so closely connected. My mom had told me once that if I could count 5 people in this category, I should count myself lucky… well, Mom, I'm 10-fold lucky.

The next criteria for me was "Close Friends." These are the people in my life that I can have a heart-to-heart, share secrets, count on to come to reciprocal rescues…but we don't have the deep-tissue connection of "Dearests." These friends I respect, love and love to hang out with…and they have the potential to become "Dearest." This number was humbling as well. I have 604 people I consider "close friends." I recounted several times. That couldn't be?

But when you consider the years I've been on the earth, the states I've lived in (actual states, not "of mind"), grade school, middle school, high school and college, jobs past & present, improv, theater, philanthropic endeavors, online groups that became real life friends, friends of friends who became close friends… etc. etc., it doesn't seem that odd. Even dividing 604 by my 50 years, it's 12 people a year or one new close friend a month. Yes, I understand I probably wasn't a friend-making-machine from ages 0-3 or 4, but I am still close friends with some I met in kindergarten.

I have included the five friends/family I've lost since FB began, and their pages are still up and running.

When you combine all of those categories, 58% of my friends list has close ties to me. That is a statistic that is far higher than I would have expected. I thought that perhaps, early on, I got caught up in the "accept friend" frenzy, and OVER-friended. I have friends who are in the entertainment industry who have had to go to sponsored pages, because their "friends" list was in the 10s of thousands, and they really just wanted to have their real friends on their personal profile. I'm no where near that tally, but this does put in perspective that for the most part, almost 60%, I know and love the people in my friends list.

If I were to add in "More Than Acquaintances," which is people I know, that I could have an elevator conversation with, or I may know they have two kids in middle school, or they most likely are a work associate that I have connected with, or a friend-of-a-friend that I like, but haven't had the opportunity to get to know well. Also a part of that criteria was, "am I happy to see these folks when I run into them," "they make me laugh," "I enjoy their company." In this category, if they make me happy, laugh or  I just plain enjoy them, they are included as a "MTA."

With that inclusion, then 89% of my list is someone I'm connected to, truly, in some way. That leaves 11% being "Acquaintances/Don't Know Well" and "Organization Pages."

But let's be clear, this is an evaluation of a "friends list" on a social platform built for sharing. I first joined Facebook to do a screen grab for a new business pitch, with no intention of keeping the membership. At that time, MySpace was the social sharing platform. Things have changed, and now there's G+, Pinterest, Instagram, Twitter, LinkedIn or even Good Reads or Spotify to some extent...and whatever the is next sharing craze.

All in all, I feel extremely blessed and fortunate, after having done this review. I hope that I give as much as I get from these people (except maybe the 3 in my too much trouble to de-friend list). If I never made another NEW friend for the rest of my life, and spent my time nurturing the ones that exist, I'm sure it would be a full, loved existence. But the chances of me not making new friends… well, let's just say, slim to none.