Warning: Online Job Applications May Jeopardize Your Sanity

Posted May 17, 2012 by Carla
Categories: Crazy life, ethics, Humor, Life, Little things that matter, MS, Multiple Sclerosis, perspective, Ya never know with God, so hang on!
Tags: , , , , , , , ,

After months and months and months of job hunting, scouring the want ads and having to fill out online job applications, I’m here to tell you, insanity will surface at some point. If you’ve attempted to look for work lately, you know. It is a pain in the butt and the in brain.

I understand employers are now trying to streamline the application process. They’re busy. But, they’re not too busy because I’ve run up on some of the most asinine questions lately, especially in the online application forms. And, it’s not just the questions, which they have now decided need to be multiple choice, it’s the length of the application and the unquestionable lack of sense by which these things are formatted. I’m laughing because some companies pay big bucks for someone else to come up with this stuff. Employers now feel swayed to believe a computer can get inside of a potential employee’s noggin, mess with it a while and come up with a desperate soul who just happens to point and click the “right” answer. Subjective verses objective. Psychobabble verses common sense. I don’t like it, and shrinks out there will disagree with me, but I wonder what happened to filling out your basic information, schooling, job experience and the name of someone to call to be sure you’re not an idiot. Sounds simple. Sure would make people more likely to look for work in more places and save everyone a ton of time and second guessing.

Here are a few examples of multiple choice questions asked on job applications these days: (Yes, these are REAL questions…Lord help us all.)

1. What percentage of politicians do you feel are honest? I don’t know about you, but I’m thinking just about none. What does that say about me? Am I paranoid? Have watched “Consipiracy Theory” too many times? Or, do I just notice how many sleezy ones make headlines? If I’m gonna work for the Government, this may apply. Maybe. If I’m wanting to be a chef or hairdresser, what the crap do my political opinions have to do with pasta or curling irons?

2. Do you see your friends a) as unproductive as you b) as productive as you c) more productive than you….I’d add a “d” to that one and say none of the above, cause if I’m lazy I wouldn’t be filling out this application in the first place. I’d get one of my productive overachiever buddies to do it for me and then ask a free-loader friend to come over lay around with me while I wait on a response…seeing I’d have all this spare time.

3. What percentage of people do you think have gotten speeding tickets in the last year? Please tell me you’re kidding here. If I’m job hunting, do I have the time or want to make the effort to research the police database? All I want to do is drive and not get killed. If some fool gets a ticket, that’s their problem. I won’t be clocking speeders when I’m stocking dog food or typing invoices for a medical supply company.

4. Which pair of pants goes best with this shirt? I say, the ones on clearance in my size, don’t make my butt look big and are not plaid. That answer is not an option, evidently. Isn’t everyone’s taste different? Aren’t the runways and malls crawling with tacky, over-priced, itchy muffin top enhancing attire?

5. If you heard a fellow employee being rude to another employee or customer would you say something? You’re dang right I would, but the trick question is to whom would you say it? Personally, being raised in the South and with my smart mouth, I’d tell that rude dude or chick to quit being such a butthole, go outside by the back door for your cig break cause you’re either nicotine deficent, somebody licked the red off of your candy, get the chip off of your shoulder and act right. I wouldn’t have to tell anyone else, cause around here, either the customer will do enough tattling for everybody or somebody else over heard this butthole and tell their mama on them.

6. How often do you feel satisfied with your life? Well, depends on if I’m working with a bunch of buttholes my MS has pitched a fit, my kids won’t pick up their stuff or if I’m just feeling fine and dandy. Overall, I’m dandy. I do have my days, though. So, how do you answer that without looking like “Eyore” or a narcisist?

See what I mean? These are only a few of the hundreds of questions on hundreds of job applications. If I wanted to play “Jeopardy”, I’d take Stupid for $400, Alex.

I know. I know. I always say to be nice at the end of my blogs and I will in this one, so just hang on. Times are changing. No one wants to practice their observational skills in person and will pay top dollar for a group of head knockers to make decisions for them on who they hire. I’m gonna be opening my own business within a couple of years. I’ve got the plans in the making. I’ve been in owner/management positions before. It’s not hard to tell if someone is a moron, rude, hard worker or willing to learn when you get eyeball to eyeball with them. Some people I’ve interviewed give me the creeps, even if their resume is spotless. Some I’ve feared for their life when they try to walk, pop their gum and potentially trip over their saggy-butted expensive pants.You can’t read body language through a computer. You can’t tell if there is a genuine desire to do what will be asked of them by wading through a ton of subjective hoo-ha. Psychos can trick computers and good-hearted folks get passed by because they got the politics or speeding questions “wrong”.

If you’re gonna be job hunting soon, I feel for you. Be yourself, be polite and just do your best and go onto the next mammoth application. In time, someone will notice your skills and or willingness. If you’re gonna be hiring soon, take time to get out of the “in thing” of computer clicks, listen to your heart and talk to people. Either position in which you find yourself, take Kindness for $500. You’ll win every time.

Comments: 8 Comments

93%

Posted April 20, 2012 by Carla
Categories: Inspiration, Life, Little things that matter, MS, Multiple Sclerosis, perspective
Tags: , , , , , , , ,

I have been a tad side-lined, sideways and side-tracked lately. MS and upcoming surgery can do that to a person. Those who know me could and probably will add more “colorful” adjectives to describe me for the last month or so.  If you see any cloud formations in my neck of the woods, trust me, they’re probably not normal clouds, but all of my latest brain farts. Each one, a particle of a thought or idea or an unfinished sentence all clinging together overhead. However, there is one thing that has not evaporated into the atmosphere, just yet. I need to tell you about it before it does.

A few days ago, I was made aware of a very intriguing statistic about person to person communication. If you are a “noticer” type of person, you will get this right away. 93% of person to person communication is non-verbal, while only 7% is verbal. Cool, huh? What a huge difference between the two!

Micro-expressions, hand movements, body positioning, eye contact, touch, etc. are the essence of our communication skills. Wrap your head around that for a minute. The best orators in the world can be lousy communicators and are probably not liked very much by those who have been personally around them. The sincerity of their 7% will always be judged by someone else’s 93% radar.

Do you feel comfortable talking with someone who is looking past you, down at their feet, head stuck in a cell phone, paper, television program or making any sort of abrupt body language, even if that person is saying “nice” words? I bet not. I don’t. I feel dismissed or unimportant. What did they say? Whatever it was, I’m usually not gonna believe it, become frustrated and my 93% will hear it as rude anyway. People from family members to neighbors to politicians to doctors to preachers can tell you they care about you, would appreciate your vote, they are concerned, the sky is blue or Jesus loves you with their 7% and if their 93% gives off conflicting vibes, the loveliest of words can turn to meaningless “blah blah blah” quickly.

Have you been around anyone and without them saying a word, left their presence feeling you had the most engaging and wonderful conversation ever? I have. I hope others have around me. I may stumble over my words, get tongue-tied, have major brain farts and not be able to complete a sentence at times. I hope my 93% makes up for that awkward 7%. I may be passionately speaking, wanting someone to understand at times. I hope my 93% enhances that 7%.

I’m not advocating over-analyzing every eyebrow lift, arm cross or bit lip of yours or of others. We don’t need to go all “Lie to Me” or “The Mentalist” , but it never hurts to remember how much of what we say isn’t said at all.

If I could see each of you in person and generously and sincerely thank you for reading “me”, I would. Perhaps, I can sometime. Maybe, I won’t be in such of a brain-fart cloud as I’m in now. I’m gonna be practicing my 93% so it matches my 7% and think it would be cool if you’d join me. As you notice, practice and go throughout this next week, allow 100% of you to be kind.

 

 

 

Comments: 18 Comments

The Worry Stone Saga

Posted April 5, 2012 by Carla
Categories: Family, Inspiration, Life, perspective
Tags: , , , , , , , ,

I am not a morning person. I never have been and I like it that way. Whether it is a Monday morning, Sunday morning or even Christmas morning, my body and my mind awake in slow motion and certainly not in unison. Ask my mom and she will tell you my feelings about having to wake up early for school were torturous. I hated it and grumpily declared my opposition. Ask my family and close friends and they will tell you I have stayed consistent with opinion: Mornings suck.

The last few years have written that statement in concrete. If I could add a commandment, which I won’t do, however, should I be given permission to do so, I would scribble an 11th one…”Thou shall not rise before 9am.” Seems to me, since God’s already awake and huddled angels all around me, why wake up and mess up a good thing? I’m just fine with God taking care of all of that for me, safely snuggled in the covers I stole from my husband and I have my dog tucked in there somewhere. But… (there’s always gotta be a but)

Two Monday mornings ago, my dog decided he had to go potty. Early. As in 7:30am early. I usually am awakened with a wet nose in my ear and sloppy kisses. This Monday in particular was a bit different. He started pawing at me and doing some crazy little “happy dance” on me. I put my hand over my boobs, cause, well, that’s just wrong.  Then, oh no.  His pawing lead my fingers to a lump. In my right boob. Although my body was still in the process of waking up, my mind was wide awake.

Within 15 minutes, I had him out the door to pee, food in his bowl, coffee brewing and a phone in my hand. The doctor’s office opens at 8am, so I held the phone for at least 5 minutes staring at the clock. My coffee got cold.

By Thursday, I had an appointment with my surgeon. After agreeing with me that “something was there” (duh..) he send me the following Monday for a series of mammograms and ultrasounds. In a little over a week, that lump became my worry stone. It was always on my mind. I found myself fiddling with it. TMI? Too bad. Close your eyes. I knew doing that wouldn’t make it go away, nor would my uneasiness leave. Breast cancer runs all in my family on both sides. I live in a breast cancer forest, not just a tree. The only reason I wasn’t fiddling with it waiting for the first round of mammograms was because I was in a small room of other women.

Mammograms are like mornings to me; painful. My boobs get squashed and kneaded, shaped into unrecognizable forms. I feel as if I am being squeezed through a pasta maker. Especially when there is a marble-sized worry wad of “something” seen. That’s when the lump jumps into my throat. I squelch the urge to cuss. Out loud, anyway.

The technician saw the lump in my boob on the screen with no problem. She “snapped” pictures like a crazed photographer in a photo shoot with a hot model. Then, she stopped. “There’s something else…”

“WHAT?”

“I’m seeing something metal”, she said.

“Metal?!”, I had to repeat her. She repeated me. I think I cussed a tad at that point, because she didn’t repeat me. She turned the screen around to show me what she was seeing. She pointed to a small sliver on the edge of the screen. It looked like a white baby fingernail clipping. It was as obvious as the white worry stone was since the screen was black. Her questions about what that was and how it got there were my own. And, we still. don’t. know.

I received a type of form letter from my surgeon yesterday. It stated “no significant signs of abnormalities found.”  WHAT? I have a worry stone AND a metal object IN MY BOOB. That, to me screams abnormal. I take from the letter, the tests did not detect cancer. I am hesitantly grateful for that fact. But, now, my circle of questions is rippling. I called the doctor’s office and had to leave a message. I wait. I go to an art show to help me from going crazy armed with my cell phone ringer on “loud”. I wait. I call, again.  At home I have been going about  my days with my cell phone and the home cordless phone in my pockets, waiting on a return call. Yes, both phones even accompany me to the bathroom. I’ve called, again. And, I’m. still. waiting.

This is the beginning of one weird and scary journey. One filled with anxiety and also annoyance. A path strewn questions. My worry stone story would be even more nerve-riddled if I didn’t have the love and support of my family and friends. I would feel completely helpless. But, there’s something else…

Hope. I was offered it years ago and still cling to it. It is small at the moment, but it is in me,  just as noticeably as my worry stone and this “martian metal”. I’m finding myself fiddling with my hope more and this worry stone less. Mornings still suck, but with my family, my cool friends and a comforting hope, I will keep calling.

Whether morning people or night owls, we all have something we just can’t stand. We all have something which worries us. We all find ourselves with questions. I pray, that while you are trying to find answers to whatever is bugging you, scaring you, or worrying you, you’ll find friends and family to help you and perhaps a small stone of hope to hold onto. One day, you may be that friend or family member to offer help, support and a small hope stone to another.  And, as you do, always remember to be kind.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Comments: 2 Comments

“Here’s Your Sign”

Posted March 6, 2012 by Carla
Categories: Crazy life, God moments, Humor, Life, MS, Multiple Sclerosis, perspective, Random thoughts, Ya never know with God, so hang on!
Tags: , , , , , , ,

The comedian Bill Engvall has a quick wit and a smart mouth. I love him. He originated the “Here’s Your Sign” comedic come backs to the redundant, stupid or just plain funny. When I’ve watched his comedy routine “Here’s Your Sign”, I’ve always wish I had come up with that gold mine little phrase. I’ve thought similar stuff countless times, especially when it comes to comments about my MS or I am in the path of an idiot. And yes, sometimes that idiot is me. I try to tame my tongue, but my brain acts like a over-indulgent grandma and if I’m not really careful, my mouth will inevitably let the mental lava of smart remarks spew. Tired? Fatigued? The rumblings of my thoughts are measurable sarcastic.

A while back, I was tired. I had driven almost an hour to my neurologist’s office where I sat for another hour with an IV bag tethered to my arm. As much as I adore my nurses there (I really do), I was a slug that day and a bit frustrated with the fact I had to drive even further (across town, but still) to have an MRI. All routine stuff to me, but nonetheless fatigue evoking. They left the “line” part in my arm after my IV treatment so I would not have to be stuck again when the MRI technician had to pump a contrast solution into my vein half way through my MRI experience. I’m always grateful for nurses with forethought. I’m usually brain-dead.

I’m not a huge fan of MRIs, but I am used to them. I don’t get claustrophobic when I’m conveyor belted into the MRI tube. They swaddle me in a warm blanket, give me ear plugs, click a hockey mask thing across my face and I’m in and out within 45 minutes. After all, they are inspecting my MS brain for lesions (little lightning bugs which chew on my nerves). Either the lesions I already have are behaving, hungry again, or they’ve invited more ravenous little lesion friends to my brain buffet. I always hope mine are full, have had a good burp at my expense and are just lying around on a nerve couch napping.

On my way to have my MRI scan, I noticed a sign. Now, remember I’m already extraordinarily pooped. The sign read “WE BUY GOD”. Huh? I slowed down.. The sign was one of those “put your own letters up” kind of sign you see in front of fast food joints. It was pointing to a pawn shop. Yep. A pawn shop! You KNOW I not only slowed down, but swerved into the middle of the road, took out my cell phone and snapped a picture. Actually, I took 2 because I shake a bit when I hold stuff and I did not want a blurry picture. Thankfully, no cars were coming nor were behind me at that moment. The day before, was rainy and the wind was whipping like crazy. I figured an “L” from the sign had probably been blown off into the grass because the “D” was slightly crooked. I could not stop laughing. A pawn shop advertising they buy God was hilarious. Here goes my mind….”Wonder what He goes for?” “If I walked in and told them I had God for sale, what would they say?” “How much does He weigh?” “Is He in good condition?” “Is He stolen?” “Is He visible for inspection?” “If I grabbed a random dude off of the curb, could I pawn him as God?” (No one I know knows what he really looks like….) “If they bought some dude from me, I’d have the money to build the studio I want and gas money for life..”

I do realize some reading this will not find this funny. Trust me. I’ve already had comments when I showed the picture to people. “That was a missed opportunity to share your faith.” “People so desperate for God that they advertise to buy him and you don’t go in….” Ok. I get ya. But, you have to remember the first paragraph of this blog. I have a smart mouth and a volcanically sarcastic sense of humor. I honestly think, after feeling like lead had been poured into my body, tired beyond tired, God was telling me “Here’s Your Sign…To Laugh!” “Lighten up, kiddo, you’ll be home soon.” “Laughter is the best medicine.” “Hee haw while you’re in that torpedo tube of an MRI.” “You can laugh and have MS at the same time, Bonehead.”

Thanks, God. I needed that sign. And, I did laugh. A lot.

I didn’t need to make a deep issue out of it. I didn’t need to stop and point out to the pawn people their “L” was missing from GOLD but I could tell them about God. I think, that would have embarrassed them or highly ticked them off. They wouldn’t wanna hear some out-of-town do-gooder spew religion and correct their signage. Plus, they were probably bigger than I am and I know pawn shop owners have guns. I just needed to laugh and go on.

I am very easily tempted to whip out a “Bill Engvall”. With the stuff people do and say…trust me, Bill is on the tip of my tongue at any given moment. I wobbly knocked into a door the other day and here comes Bill…”Knock knock, who’s there? Here’s your sign.” When I hear the words “But you look so good”, Here comes Bill…”I didn’t know dog doo looked that appealing.” I can’t get the right words out sometimes, so I tell people I folded forks and cooked underwear, when I meant to say I folded clothes and under cooked something. Here’s my sign. I can laugh about it.

Let’s all lighten up and laugh together. Get a chuckle out of life. Enjoy yourself and slow down to notice the funny stuff. It is possible to do that in a kind way, by the way. Just be careful when you are tired if you are prone to channel Bill Engvall…. :-)

 

 

 

Comments: 15 Comments

We Interrupt This Thought…

Posted February 28, 2012 by Carla
Categories: Ya never know with God, so hang on!

We Interrupt This Thought….

Comments: Comments Off

We Interrupt This Thought…

Posted February 28, 2012 by Carla
Categories: Crazy life, Humor, Life, Random thoughts
Tags: , , , , ,

I hate television and radio commercials. I loathe them. I don’t watch a lot of tv. Mostly because there is not anything fit to watch, except Two Broke Girls, Downton Abbey and an occasional news show. Several months ago, we started getting Netflix. Brilliant! Why? The shows on Netflix are at my beckon fingertips anytime of day or night. It’s like having a 24/7 convenience store of broadcasts in my living room. Documentaries, pod casts (which really rock), movies, tv shows, even YouTube. The best part, the grape slushy of coolness, is the mere fact Netflix has NO commercials. Geniusness at its best.

Commercials not only interrupt they invade. Assaults of the worst kind. Bears with poor bathroom hygene? Fiber infused EVERYTHING? Good grief. Our whole country should never be constipated again.  The most annoying ones, however, are local commercials which use someone’s “Betty Boop” non-translatable-voiced kids to help sell cars, mattresses, jewelry, furniture…well, you get the picture. They suck. But, the most cancerous commercials are the ones with “catchy” phrases or, god forbid, jingles. Ughhhh! I know Barry Manilow made a gazillion composing commercial jingles years ago and there are more people following right along behind him decades later. They need to do something less viral. Like being potato chip inspectors. Even personal injury lawyers have turned to sing-songing their phone numbers in their ads. Pa-leeze! The last thing I’m gonna think about when I get made into road ravioli is a singing law firm. I’ll be doing double time with my maker pleading for my life, not an attorney.

The last couple of days around here have been nice, weather wise. I have picked herbs, daffodils, walked around the yard with my dog and sat on my deck off and on. No tv, just the noises of nature, a few passing cars, kids playing and an occasional low flying airplane. I was rolling story and poetry ideas around in my head. Thinking about my next blog. Wondering if I had enough couscous for dinner. Tru was inspecting the mulch by a bush.

Then, I was interrupted. Brain attacked. For no reason, except my noodle went from figuring out how to unwind my dog’s leash from around a shrub which was decorated with a few bees, to that stupid Nasonex freakin’ allergy commercial. I was mentally taken hostage by an animated, French-accented bumble bee! The bees in the shrubbery started it. That malignant cartoon insect buzzed into my brain, turning my thoughts from my ideas and my dog’s predicament to a winged bug squirting my tv with his nose medicine bottle. I let out a huge sigh, untangled Tru and went into the house. The screen door strained out all of my previously wonderful ideas and I sat on the couch, defeated, annoyed and suddenly stuffy-nosed.

I have nothing against people who make or who are in commercials. They have to make a living like everyone else. I just don’t happen to like what they do. And, I know I’m not the only one wishing they were chip pickers. I bet you have a commercial in your mind and may even start to hum a jingle when you least suspect it. Like, now? (grin)

My tv is still off. My dog is napping. I think I have managed to recall some of the ideas I had yesterday, before the bee, so I’m going to make the most of the time I have between now and dinner to write. Turn off your tv and radio. Listen to you. Should some annoying commercial pop into your head,just  pray it’s not a lawyer number,annoying insect, some baby-talking kid or a fat bear who has never learned the proper way to wipe his butt. As you turn your brain channels back to you, listen well. Quietly. You may have a great idea or comforting thought. And, as you do, be kind. Or, should I say, Bee kind….

 

silent screen…

bees pollinate garden flowers uninterrupted

a commercial buzzes into my thoughts

 

Comments: 12 Comments

Nothing to Wear on the “Read” Carpet for this Award!

Posted February 25, 2012 by Carla
Categories: Authors, Cheese please, Humor, Inspiration, Life, Little things that matter, MS, Multiple Sclerosis, perspective, Poetry, Random thoughts, Writing
Tags: , , , , ,

I have been nominated, now twice, for the Versatile Blogger Award and I could not be more thrilled, unless Jimmy Buffett showed up on my door step to sweep me away to the beach. The first time I was given this award was last year by my buddy who writes The Big Sheep Blog. She rocks. I thanked her profusely, yet had absolutely no clue what to do with the award. It has been sitting in my computer for a long time patiently waiting on my brain to catch up with technology. Back then, I was a computer spaz and a novice blogger. Today, I am still a computer spaz, but have over 100 blogs under my belt along with a few Hot and Spicy Cheez-its crumbs.

Now, I have a second chance to do to the gratitude thing right, thanks to an awesome beach lovin’ blogger who writes butenuffaboutme. These 2 gracious and patient people need a round of applause and a standing ovation. I can’t clap and type, nor can I stand at the moment due to a numb right foot and a snoring cat in my lap. Nevertheless, ya’ll give them a shout out for me and read their stuff. You’ll laugh and think at the same time. I promise.

I don’t have an acceptance speech prepared nor do I have a thing to wear, suitable for the “Read” Carpet, but I do have some awesome worn out jeans and a t-shirt. Those are more me, anyway.

From the bottom of my heart, I am very grateful for this award and will try to do it justice by following the rules. (I did say try….) I am supposed to list 7 things about me which will allow those reading this, and my nominators, a port-hole view into who I am. Scary thought, but, here goes.

1. I have a shameless adoration for all things Dr. Seuss.

2. I panic if my refrigerator runs low on cheeses. Freak-out style panic.

3. I am a book-a-holic and yes, I do inhale them.

4. Poetry has been my under-loved child since I was a child myself, but it’s being nurtured in huge quantities now. Haiku, in particular.

5. I have no will to live without a sense of humor.

6. I am obsessive about how my bed is made daily. It’s ridiculous, but I like it my way, which is, of course, the right way.

7. If it were not for 4 teachers in my life ( my kindergarten teacher, 2 English teachers and a college math professor) I would not be writing. Why a math professor? Simple. He told me it was a good thing I liked literature and English as much as I do because my math skills were, and still are, hopeless.

I am now gonna nominate 15 other bloggers for this award. I feel they deserve it based on its name and also because I love how they think and write. My blog is never about one thing so I have chosen these blogger as a wonderful random mix of life. Here ya go! Oh, I’m supposed to post their links, but if they don’t appear, just remember my spaz disclaimer at the beginning….

1. Becoming Cliche. This one is off the charts cool and fun.

2. i have MS. She may have it, but it sure doesn’t have her.

3. Learn More Everyday. Patti’s life lessons from nature’s perspective give a landscape of wonder. I like that.

4. feodoraslane. Eliza is an amazing poet. Her children’s book, Folk on Feodora’s Lane is brilliant! I have it. I’ve read it 4 times.

5. New Mind Shack. Hey, anyone who loves family, cooking and has a dog named Cujo is cool!

6. Lamb Skinny. She astounds me with her abilities and motivation to write novels and  novellas. Amazing!

7. ifIwerebrave. To attempt one thing every day which scares her makes her a super hero. I’m chicken.

8. The Big Sheep Blog. Ok, she’s already got this before, but, I’m gonna give it to her again. She deserves awards daily just by being delightfully sarcastic about everyday things.

9. WhatIMeant2Say. There is a boundless mind at work in this blog.

10. AMSDaily. She feels the desire to inspire, which is very evident in her writings. We need more like this.

11. Charlotte Digregorio’s Writer’s Blog. A brilliant haiku blog. I am learning more about haiku everyday. Cannot learn enough!

12. Musings of MS. A smart and witty blogger who knows how and when to use sarcasm to its fullest.

13. Brass and Ivory. Having MS and RA does not slow this woman down as she shares info. and topics related to both diseases. Laughter is a requirement in her life. Mine, too.

14. Teacher’s Lounge Chat. Entertaining and touching stories spun by a very caring, witty teacher.

15. Life and Laughter. Cracks. Me. Up. She states she is an often broke freelance writer. So am I. We need to talk.

I’ll end my “speech” with this: Even though I am woefully under prepared for this “read carpet” experience, it makes me feel good inside knowing my words are being read out there in cyberspace….somewhere….by someone. Thanks to butenoughaboutme and The Big Sheep Blog for noticing me. You both reflect what I always say at the end of my blogs, to be kind.

versatileblogger113.png (200×200)

 

Comments: 18 Comments

Chew on This…

Posted February 2, 2012 by Carla
Categories: Authors, Inspiration, Life, MS, Multiple Sclerosis, Writing
Tags: , , , , , , , , , ,

What in the world does chewing gum have to do with MS? In my mind, a lot, once I finished reading a short, yet awesome article on William Wrigley, Jr., inventor of Juicy fruit and Wrigley’s Spearmint gum. (See the Jan./Feb. issue of Mental Floss magazine.) He didn’t start out to be a chewing gum guru. He was trying to expand his dad’s soap business. Going from soap to gum may seem like a stretch because it was. Thinking outside of the “soap box”, he began to dole out baking powder to any new shop willing to carry the family soap. Sounds a bit like the freebie boxes of donuts or pizza lunches pharmaceutical sales people sometimes give to doctors’ offices when a physician and staff are willing to hear about the their latest pill on the market. Sweet set up. It seems to work. Anyway, the baking powder gift gimmick eventually began to work rather well. Makes me wonder if  dad’s soap was not all that great. However, the powder was. So, instead of pouting in defeat, Jr. decides to transform himself into a baking powder salesman. As an enticement for stores to carry his baking powder, he gave away free chewing gum. Guess what? The gum all of a sudden was “the thing” people wanted, so here he goes again into the re-defining mode. He decided to sell gum. Then, went even further to come up with his own gum…Juicy Fruit and Wrigley’s Spearmint were born out of opportunity. He saw the possibilities in continually needing to reinvent himself. I like that.

Since MS decided to take up residence in my body, I have chosen to reinvent me out of need, for one, but also out of the opportunities I’ve discovered for me to be me, yet in different ways. I could be angry, hop on my “soap box”, and yell at the world because I have this disease. Not gonna happen. I could tuck my tail, every time I find a body part not cooperating and whine. Not gonna happen. Giving in and giving up are not options I like. I certainly don’t like MS. At. All. I do get very frustrated, but somehow, someway, that annoyance leads me to something positive. More often than not, something better. Like writing. Sweet deal, I think. I went from being a geriatric long-term care specialist to candle and basket maker, to home school mom/secretary to writer. All because of MS. I have switched gears so many times I probably have stripped a few. Stretching and altering my abilities and possibilities to meet the “latest thing”, symptom wise, is challenging to say the least, but it can be done.

Funny thing….I hate chewing gum. I don’t like to see people pop it, smack it, chew it like a cow or talk with it in their mouth. It also give me gas, which is not cool. I do like Jr.’s story, though. It is an inspiring one. Think with me…any life changing circumstance is an opportunity full of possibilities, isn’t it? Just be willing to think outside the box. And, as you do, always remember to be kind.

Comments: 8 Comments

What Color is Happy?

Posted January 24, 2012 by Carla
Categories: kids, Life, Little things that matter
Tags: , , , , , , ,

A picture posted on Facebook prompted me to do a bit of thinking lately. The picture was a simple little cardboard box of Crayola Crayons. Another posted question was, “When did Crayola stop using the “Flesh” color? This was posed under another crayon picture showing a big variety of colors, all named “Flesh”. I liked that picture. A lot.  Then, someone posted a comment about loving to color as much as and adult as they did as a kid. I, personally, still love to color. I love the smell of a box of crayons and the wonderful feeling of using a new crayon for its innangural glide on a piece of paper or in a coloring book. So, I’m a big kid. But, this big kid’s curiosity and brain started to run away with me. Gladly, so.

Since coloring makes me happy and the aroma of a crayon entices many really cool memories, I put a post on Facebook stating the Crayola company should make a “Happy” crayon so people, kids and adults, could color their world happy. I like the idea. I was then encouraged to write Crayola and ask them to do just that. And, I did. First, I did a bit of research on the history of crayons, the Crayola company and looked at the insanely long list of color names used by Crayola. “Macaroni and Cheese”? “Fuzzy Wuzzy”? “Tickle Me Pink”? Those are just a few names I saw, along with the “color” of the crayon. “Flesh” was not there.

I found out “Flesh” was discontinued in the early 60′s. Good for them. They re-named that color “Peach”. I had a “Flesh” color in a box when I was little and it bothered me. I didn’t like the word “Flesh” to begin with. That sounded to me like some sort of weird meat.  I did use it, although rarely. I remember starting  to color a picture of a person in my coloring book with it and it was not skin colored, it was a very nasty, almost jaundiced color. Ewwww. I felt I was making this innocent looking person look as if they had liver failure.

When my daughter was little, we had several acres of land. I threw her a “crayon party” for one of her birthdays. I made placemats for her friends to color and then I took the mats, had them laminated and a few days later, gave them back to the children. I also bought a boat load of crayons, threw them into a big field we had, and sent the kids on a crayon hunt. They got to keep the crayons they found in the grass. Now, that was a really fun party!

My reasoning for requesting Crayola to make a “Happy” color was simple. Everyone wants to be happy. I think it would be great to have a “Happy” color to give sick children and adults. I’d like to give one to someone who is depressed or hurting to cheer them up. Wouldn’t that be something?! Give a “Happy” crayon for birthdays, new babies, weddings or even as a fun gift hostess or host gift.

I received an envelope in the mail yesterday. Return address, “Crayola”. Wow! They actually responded. Inside, I found a generic postcard sized “Thank You for your interest” note. Crap. I was so hoping they would at least think about it. Also, “as a gesture of our thanks”, I found 3 coupons for 50 cents off of any Crayola or Silly Putty product. Yes, Crayola and Silly Putty are buddies. Who knew?

I think, I’m gonna go buy a big box of Crayolas and pick out a “Happy” color, myself. I’ll simply type out the word “Happy” on paper, cut it to fit and wrap it around the color. There. Now I can set out on my mission to give out “Happy” crayons. No company can deflate my idea for wanting to wish happiness to others. (I sound like an “I can do it myself” stomping 4 yr. old, don’t I?)

Think about it. You can do this as well! There is never enough happiness in our world, but one color at a time, we can give a splash of happy to someone. Anyone. A wonderfully aromatic tangible happiness. If you decide to do this with me, you’ll be receiving happiness in return. Win-win. Have fun! It’s a powerful way for all of us to be kind, don’tcha think?

Comments: 18 Comments

Pandora’s Toothbrush

Posted January 15, 2012 by Carla
Categories: Crazy life, Family, kids, Life, MS, Multiple Sclerosis, parenting
Tags: , , , , , , , ,

My kids share a bathroom. They also share a love of cooking, similar political views and a mutual hatred of germs. Neither is phobic about germs. They merely have a respect for keeping things clean. They have beefed up security, somewhat for me due to my MS. I will and can catch everything, except the Prize Patrol van.

After some neighbor kids shared lice with them years ago, I am proud to say it has not taken much teaching and training for my kids to know you don’t share towels, combs, cups, suckers or toothbrushes with anyone. As a matter of fact, their bathroom is clean, orderly and exclusively maintained by them. Toothbrushes have covers. Toothpaste is not even shared and the lid is always down. I don’t worry about massive contamination outbreaks or any embarrassment should company need to use the potty. Soap, fresh hand towels, an extra roll and tissues are within reaching distance. Makes a mom proud.

Back tracking here about 3 days…my son had a stomach virus straight from the 3rd level of hell recently. I know. I watched one evening, helplessly, as his internal organs were spewed into a waste can. All I could do was hand him a cold wash cloth and a Gatorade and the reassurance he was not gonna die. He hates to be sick, but the relentlessness of this bug was overwhelming.

My daughter helped me by mopping, cleaning, scrubbing and wiping every imaginable surface in our house yesterday. I am grateful beyond words for her tenacity to eradicate this sickness in hopes of no one else catching it. She was the “germinator”. Until…

Half asleep this morning, she “Pandora’s boxed”…her brother’s toothbrush. Covered toothbrush. He had even gone to the trouble of marking his toothbrush with a Sharpie. In the Greek myth, Pandora opened a locked box (aka covered toothbrush) and out flew every kind of bad disease and sickness into the world. She slammed the lid closed, but it was too late. The world was contaminated. My daughter did not mean to pick up the wrong toothbrush, but she did. As she was brushing her teeth with her brother’s germ infested, virus coated wand of misfortune, she realized, too late, that she had just exposed herself to one mean bug. Thankfully, her brother was still asleep. Unfortunately, I had neglected to tell him to disinfect his toothbrush late yesterday when he was feeling better. I was also out of extra brushes. I do try to keep a few on hand. She quickly “slammed” the lid (cover) back onto her brother’s toothbrush and ran from the other side of the house into my bedroom asking for mouthwash and told me what she had done, just as Pandora supposedly tried to tell her husband what happened and why she opened the box.

I doubt the mouthwash helped destroy the virus germs, but, at least she tried. I felt badly for her knowing all she had done to clean yesterday. My little Pandora may become the next virus victim. Yuck. The end to the myth, once Pandora showed her husband what she thought was an empty box, is one of hope.  One tiny bug was left in the box and it flew out as she confessed her guilt to her husband. The bug’s name was Hope. Many people don’t remember the ending to that story. Yes, all kinds of nasties were spread into the world, but Hope went out, too.

I sure hope Hope is floating around here and shows a little mercy to my daughter in the form of staying well. In the meantime, I have since gotten another toothbrush for my son this afternoon.

We can only hope my daughter doesn’t get sick. If she does, I’ll be right there with her, like I was with my son, holding a trash can and pouring Gatorade. Believe me, after my fiasco in my last blog with the lamp and our dog, I have great empathy with those during brain fart moments and I will always, be kind. I hope you are as well.

Comments: 8 Comments

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