I parked at the Harp’s on Garland as I evaded the ongoing renovations to the store and parking lot. Getting out of the car and walking along the front of the building, I greeted one of the workers in Spanish. We traded comments and barbs. He pretended to hand me a shovel and said in Spanish, “If you want me to have a good day, you can have this.” I laughed as I pulled my shirt out of my waistband, revealing my exposed scar. “¡Me ganaste!” he said, even as he laughed. Yes, I did win that round.
I walked the long, challenging hills in the area, taking in the houses, plants, and people. If you want to feel your legs burn, try N. Hall Avenue or Vista off of Wedington. It was sublime, as the rising sun was overcast by clouds that diffused the light that you can only find in October. As I passed a yard whose perimeter was overgrown, I attempted to take a picture of a fox or coyote as it darted into the browning bushes with the red flowers. Its head is barely perceptible in the shadows.
I was grateful that I’d slept so well the night before; I didn’t stay at my apartment last night, and I’m thankful I didn’t. Despite seeing a counselor again yesterday for the first time in a while, anxiety crept up my spine like an imperceptible shadow. No matter how people sell you the idea of solitude, loneliness is its undesirable first cousin. People struggle against the notion that people flourish the most when they have people in their lives. I love introspection, reading, and writing. There’s a vast chasm between having people available and choosing solitude, though.
When I finished my long, circuitous walk, I passed a Razorback bus stop. A couple of dozen students were waiting impatiently. Almost all of them were staring down at their phones. When I exited Harps, I put my food in the tiny trunk compartment and left through the back parking lot, looping around the side road. On a whim, I stepped out and said, “Does anyone want a ride to campus?” I didn’t expect anyone to accept. Surprisingly, several people looked around at each other, wondering if they’d be judged for saying “Yes.” I said, “Despite how small this car looks, I can hold three of y’all in here.” Two guys and one girl stepped away from the pack, shrugging. I reached over and unlocked all my doors, as my car is manual everything. They hopped in. I said, “If you do not want to go to the same drop, talk among yourselves and decide where to go first.” They chattered away as I waited at the traffic light at the bottom of the long hill up to campus. They decided to all get out at the same building. As I drove, the girl explained to one of the riders in the back seat that she only had a slim laptop because she had photographed every page of her textbook. The two guys both had backpacks perched on their laps. “That’s genius,” one of them said. Indeed, it was. As I pulled up to the sidewalk to let them out, they thanked me. Though they probably waited for the bus without any enthusiasm, they’d been granted extra minutes for the morning. I hoped they used them well.
People ask me why I prefer old headphones instead of modern earbud ones. Part of it is comfort. But having wired ones allows me to accidentally drag everything out of my pocket clumsily when I pull my phone out. I’ve tried a few sets of wireless earbuds; so far, none have worked magic for me. It could be worse. I could choose to go old school and use a boombox. I’m not quite a boomer, though.
I have a couple of weird side effects from my surgery. One of them is an odd indentation a few inches above my belly button. The other is a valley where the scar sits. I’m eating much better, but I’m still at 150 lbs. No matter how active I am or optimistic, it’s hard to forget that surgeons removed a section of my bowels. It’s a special kind of vague anxiety that only those who’ve had it would understand.
Though I’d rather have never had surgery, I love the deepening scar. It’s a reminder that anything can happen at any time, a lesson I thought I’d mastered years ago. I was wrong. If anything might happen, it also encompasses moments of surprise and pleasure. Though I walked alone this morning, I saw beauty and felt the air around me. And by risking a bit of social awkwardness, I briefly talked to three optimistic students, all of whom are looking to the future. They probably don’t know how strenuously life will challenge them. And that’s a good thing on this October morning. There’s time for that later. Much later, I hope, for all of them and myself.
I started counseling again – with the same counselor who helped me so much earlier this year. It’s an untimely coincidence that today marks one year since my brother Mike died – and a couple of days from a year ago when the gong went off in my head that I had to transform my life before it was too late. It was a big enough surprise for her to see me at my weight, and several others when I recounted the usual “what’s been going on.” I led with the punchline of revealing my abdominal scar, now free of staples, tape, or other camouflage. Then, divorce, anxiety, and struggles that don’t seem so mountainous after hearing them out loud.
Despite it being counseling, I can’t tell you how many times we both laughed. She’ll still bill me though, so she gets the last laugh on this one. Her office is less than two minutes away.
October is Mental Health Month; however, a lot of people can’t afford help, or worse, think that care is a stigma. It’s better to be alive and thriving than worrying about the perception of keeping your body and mind from distractions. There are so many things that are a blessing in life. Counseling is one of them.
A Post With Something For All TastesWhen I had my staples removed last Thursday, the surgeon unexpectedly put a liter of glue on my long wound and covered it with twenty pieces of tape. It felt like I had a toaster glued on me. “It will fall off naturally in a week or two.” Yes, and it will also “fall off naturally” when I get one weirdly caught on the towel and rip it off. I don’t know why, but I am suddenly wide awake. With that in my mind, read the captions of all these pictures (and one very short video joke…)
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Someone wrote me and said, “I can’t believe you don’t have pithy sayings written on any of your painted tiles on the landing outside the apartment.”
Well, problem solved. I don’t think Larkma, the sprite, will mind.
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Even though I live in an apartment, I use my pest control habits to spray the dumpsters, walkways, and anything else with a great environmentally safe insecticide. It’s safe for pets and humans, too. It’s not good in lemonade, but it’s the best. I got tickled when one of the neighbors asked me to come inside and spray their kitchen. It’s been a blue moon since I posted about it, but most people can save a lot of money by doing this sort of thing for themselves instead of paying an exterminator. Especially if they pay for a once-a-year treatment and then do the quarterly sprays themselves. I’m sure I looked a little out of my element this morning, wearing a vest and looking like I was about to go to church. (If I owned an extermination company, I’d definitely have the employees dress in costume, doubly so around Halloween. I don’t think it would ‘bug’ them.)
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I made an audio joke about a pirate and his parrot problem. Wee baba!
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The word ‘ b e d ‘ looks like a bed. I think someone should make the box spring or platform section out of those three letters, both because it is creative and it would also label that piece of furniture.
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My nutritionist warned me to be careful what I eat for breakfast. She was right! I accidentally bought a box of ReinCarnation Breakfast Drink. My lives flashed before my eyes.
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Thanks to the stupidity of the English language, we have no way of knowing whether the “s” or “c” is silent in “scent.” *Now if we can get Bob to be silent, I’ll be happy.
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Understandtable: the one extra letter conveys another meaning. This type of table should be one always holding a book that enlightens you. (Even if it is the Face”book.”) Enlightenment is everywhere if you’re interested. Zen masters told us that chopping wood and carrying water is the only path. Where you learn isn’t the issue. IF you do is. You can learn a lot by just watching people – and more so if you have a good set of binoculars and/or telephoto lens.
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* Don’t get mad at me when I sing “Happy Birthday!” at a séance. Dim lighting, candles, several people around a table. It’s basically the SAME thing. * Though it seems obvious, in most cases, you can quickly determine whether someone is LIKELY left-handed or right-handed by which way they do their belt. * It doesn’t happen as often as it used to, but many people assume I’m black when they realize that my name really is X. I love that. Now that I have new people around me, I get to experiment with my list of crazy answers about my name. If I died suddenly, everyone would argue about which answer is true. It’s a shame I want to be cremated (after I die, thank you very much!) because I picture people looking for the headstone: “Duh. X marks the spot.” * I keep threatening to sneak a set of cymbals into church. People will shout “Jesus!” like they never have before when I use them. * I know where the cliché “open a can of worms” originated. I think we should change it to “open a can of spiders,” and flying ones at that. The entertainment value of such a change could be spectacular.
As I stood outside painting another big rock for my landing, I realized that they are the perfect size to throw through my large front windows. This one, the one I painted today, I stole from the remnants of a neighbor who moved out and left the apartment in a “shambles,” whatever that is. The neighbor who moved should have taken her trash with her; it would save time for her to clutter the new place like this one immediately, so she’d feel more at home.
Notes: Metal security doors are dumb when there are large, knee-high windows right there next to them. . I have a metal flipper that goes inside the jamb. It requires two hits with a battering ram to break through. This will give me time to make coffee and donuts for the police who will inevitably storm my apartment by accident, thinking I’m the drug dealer here. I’m considering putting a note and an arrow on my front door, pointing to the actual known drug dealer. It’s problematic if he sees it, though. . I do have a security camera, though I almost always leave it unarmed. And unlegged. I use it more for entertainment and as a virtual window than anything. . If you’re wondering, YES, I do paint rocks ornately or with clever messages and leave them all over Fayetteville. The rocks are free ( 🙂 ) and the paint doesn’t cost much. . I also love painting quarters and then using them in the washing machines and dryers. Sidenote to this note: you can get master keys to almost all commercial washers online. I wouldn’t of course. I just like knowing that I can. .
I had a rough few moments today. I had some great moments too. My emergency ER visit and subsequent surgery happened three weeks ago today. The bills will inevitably come. The good news is that I know the hospital is very invested in me not dying because otherwise they won’t get paid. I take solace in that!
…also, my 401k provider keeps saying, “You fixed it,” and then emailing me to say my account is not up to date. I kindly call them and say, “Hey, I almost died. Could you get this updated and fixed?” They say, “You’re good.” Four times in a row. I had to falsify a pdf form today because the fact that I’m not married evidently isn’t proof that my spouse consents to the change. 🙂
Social media is a hall of mirrors for most people; it’s primarily bright shining moments. I’m guilty of sharing a lot. Often, I reference periods where I’m lonely, anxious, or experiencing things that seem elusively difficult to solve. I don’t mention details because I am careful about revealing someone else’s story or issues while delineating mine. It’s my story to tell because it’s my life. But I think I’m respectful about needlessly giving someone else an additional slap. I’ve seen behind the curtains of so many people’s lives. Most of them have some heavy secrets and burdens.
I’ve written about how I was guilty of imploding my marriage. Most of the blame is mine; I said so from the beginning. Many people recoiled. “You don’t just SAY those things.” Uh – yes, I do. Not all the blame is mine, but so much of it is that it is just honest to say so without qualification. No one can ever know what goes on in a life, much less a marriage. Even if they think they know, they will have their spin and narrative about it. We all do this.
While I made many missteps starting in October last year, I also found a way to wake up. I’d be dead if I didn’t lose all the weight. Had I not started counseling, lack of sleep would’ve driven me crazy. In addition to all those more significant moments, I stepped back and decided that it was time to find a way to create lemon moments, apologize to people, and find ways to stop fueling negativity. Like so many of you know, it wasn’t a straight line. I didn’t have the intelligence or ability to do it evenly or without making a mess of my marriage. You have to make omelets once you break the eggs, but lamenting that you no longer have eggs is pointless.
Other than a few weeks ago when I had to threaten to kill one of my horrific neighbors (my Bobby Dean moment), I haven’t lashed out or engaged in megaphone interpersonal moments. Even when the other person tried their best to get me to be angry, I found a new way to engage. I’ve told so many people how much they mean to me, that I apologize for not understanding them sooner, and have tried to be a better me.
I got accused of not being the same me.
They are not wrong. I’m not.
Had I stayed the old me, well, I’ve already said it, it’s likely I might not be here – and that’s before my guts tried to strangle me on a random Monday.
I have a lot of regrets. Don’t we all?
Regrets are only effective when you figure out a way to morph them into an action that helps others while not repeating the same mistake yourself.
I also got accused of being egotistical and selfish, in part because I am evangelical about weight loss and finding ways to get to your goals. I can see why they’d think that, too. Just because I’m wrong about so much or have behaved like a hungry monkey at a salad bar doesn’t mean that I’m not right about some things. I’m equally enthusiastic about mental health counseling, too – in part because it is something I learned the hard way and firsthand. That’s why I’m qualified to talk about it in the personal way that I do.
The beauty of social media, a blog, or even a TV channel is that you can change it if you don’t like what you see. You can change your life if you want to as well.
I am not the sum of my mistakes. That doesn’t mean I’m not accountable for them, though. In parting, I’d like to say that I’m often the first to say, “I don’t know,” or “I’m sorry,” now. It’s shameful that I didn’t learn the lesson sooner.
Last night, I was out walking on Gregg Avenue later in the evening. Someone leaned out and shouted, “Hey X! You a**hole!” as they laughed. I couldn’t see who it was, but I waved enthusiastically. Only friends shout like that. It brightened my mood for a moment; it was much needed. The walk not only served as exercise but also as an escape. Like most escapes, it didn’t work; most tend to bring whatever’s in your head along for the ride. I envy those who seem to be able to deflect their hearts when necessary.
This morning, way before the sunrise, I got out of bed and walked the streets again within five minutes of arising. Reaching the end of the parking lot, I saw a man and a woman walking, the woman ahead of the man, her socked feet shuffling awkwardly. There’s a lot of questions in my head from that scene. I tried to imagine what events transpired to lead them into the early morning dark, one of them without shoes. They plodded along, devoid of any energy or spark. I soon outpaced them and left them far behind. They were on my mind, though.
Sundays mornings, I see evidence that people didn’t use their best judgment. Near Fossil Cove brewery, I noted an excessive number of beer cars and errant liquor bottles. A block down, someone’s ornate mailbox laid on the ground in tatters, probably from a speeding drunk driver approaching carelessly from the side road. On the opposite side of the road, I stopped and snapped a picture of the Banksy girl painted on the side of a railroad control box. The disparity of the message amidst the realities of the morning gripped me. . Yesterday, as I exited my apartment, a neighbor said, “Hey X, I hope you don’t me asking, but my mother-in-law LOVES your blue lantern. Could you make her one?”
I paused, and said, “No.” I watched the woman try to gauge me. She failed.
I took the blue solar lantern made from an inverted hummingbird feeder and handed it to her. “No, but I will give you this one.” She smiled in surprise.
“Wait,” I told her. I pulled my other metal silhouette lantern from the hanger and handed that to her as she neared her door. “Take this, too.” I explained the rechargeable batteries and how to use them long-term.
She was so happy with the unexpected gifts. Though I was now left with no solar lanterns on my landing, I was happy, too. That’s not nothing.
It’s entirely a coincidence that I’d ordered two more sets of fairy lights on Wednesday. I love how the universe sometimes surprises me. Two incidents yesterday remind me that my neighbors are watching me in curiosity to see what projects I’m up to. . Later in the morning, a neighbor headed out to walk to his job. The skies were ominous and ready to pour. “Hey, how about I give you a ride to work?” He accepted, and I spent a few minutes not only doing him a solid but was able to connect with him as we drove to his workplace and talked. . Other parts of my day were both sublime and tumultuous. The dichotomy of these days never fails to surprise me and sometimes alarms me. I understand that my intelligence often fails me when I try to assimilate the lessons and use my experience to guide me. My experience in life isn’t a detailed roadmap. Like anyone else, my heart sometimes overrides the clear path in front of me.
But I walk on, literally and figuratively.
“There is always hope,” is a truth. Equally valid is that we have to confront the day with the practical tools and options available. We have hope for the future but also must live the minutes as they come. Instead of revising these few words, I’ll post them ‘as is,’ much in the way that life speeds along in front of us.
Love, X . P.S. I’m adding a paragraph. As I posted this, the putt-putt of a moped outside drew my attention. A man stood by the dumpster, looking for treasure in the mountain of trash. I walked out and crossed the parking lot. “I’m the neighborhood weirdo,” I told him. He looked at me cautiously. Though I don’t have much money (now more than ever), I handed him a $20 bill. He said, “God bless you!” He smiled like the sunrise. “I am, if only I can find ways to see it,” I told him as I walked back to my apartment. I didn’t look back at him, because as happy as he was by the gift, I think he was about to get emotional. .
When I posted this morning, I realized that I used a 3D picture instead of this one. I’m up late, anxious for reasons that don’t really have much to do with me. It’s so strange to suddenly see yourself through someone else’s perspective and see that I still need to realize that lessons aren’t learned until behavior changes. I’m so glad to be alive and doing well and yet astonished by my inability to bridge the gap between understanding and action. It’s humbling to know that I have a lot left to learn – and then put it into practice. Love, X
“Your body reflects what you do habitually.” I’d add, “Your life is the same.”
Choices. Habits. Focus.
Stupid buzzwords that also are true. There’s no magic formula for most of it. It’s just consistency and using our intelligence and creativity to let our bodies do what they are supposed to. It also requires silencing that negative voice in your head. You are not your past or your past choices, even though that’s precisely what most of us think when we’re alone with our thoughts. Life would be staggeringly bad if we believed that we were incapable of striking out on a new path. I look at my hands each day and find it impossible to think that I bit my fingernails for 50+ years. It’s stupid. I look back at my pictures, and even during years when I was appreciative of life, I can’t help but wonder how much more life I could have experienced if I’d woken up sooner. I can’t recapture those years, but I can tuck them away as a constant reminder.
I’m a few days away from my original year-long health/weight plan. My brother died on October 5th of last year. Following that, I had the morning where I thought I had covid and felt like I would die. It seems like five years ago. But I still feel the gong of that day in my head when I remember ‘seeing’ my new self. Over the last several months, I’ve worked on reading, watching, and absorbing as much science-based material that I could about health, weight maintenance, and exercise. For me, it is painfully obvious why most people fail in their efforts.
I know people read some of my thoughts and wonder why I feel like I can give advice. All of us have our moments and experience. I know what I learned and what worked for me. Almost everything can be boiled down to wanting to change and then experimenting with what I thought I knew versus what works. I can’t help but be a little evangelical about it because not a day passes when someone doesn’t express a desire to get control of this aspect of their lives. I’m insistent on telling them that they can, even if they do so, without disrupting their days with crazy programs and “musts” that don’t hold up to science. Major change can be achieved incrementally, one little choice and habit at a time.
I started on June 1st with pushups. Within weeks, I was doing hundreds a day, culminating in me doing 1,500 some days. That makes me laugh. A week before my emergency surgery, I decided to limit myself to 500 a day for maintenance and modify my diet to add protein and more calories, in part to shift to more muscle-building. How ironic that I’d made the shift just three days before my surgery on Monday, September 13th. It is unfathomable to me that it’s been only three weeks. For anyone who doesn’t know, my surgery didn’t result from overexertion. I had a tiny bit of scar tissue that caused my intestinal loop to get lodged in the void created by the scar tissue and cut off. The only way I could have ‘caught’ it would have been to have a colonoscopy very recently; even then, surgery would have been required.
The surgeons look out the small loop. Pain saved my life, even though I will never forget rolling around on the cement floor of the ER for hours. Being thin made my recovery incredibly faster. Since then, I’ve followed the advice of surgeons and nutritionists. I’ve used dumbbells relentlessly so that my transition back to work will be less eventful. What happened to me could happen again – or to anyone. I’m thankful it wasn’t a tumor, a heart attack, or an aneurysm. After I woke up alive, I found out that my initial CT Scan had a mass that looked indistinguishable from a tumor. The surgeons thought it was going to be a complicated surgery. They were surprised to find it was straightforward. Life’s lottery gave me a pass for another day.
In a nutshell, here’s the gist: the simplest way to stay thinner is to control what you put in your mouth. (Sounds obvious, doesn’t it?) Beyond that, move around, preferably with activity. But while you’re at it, get rid of the idea that you have to artificially block off time or engage in rigorous (and likely boring) traditional exercise. Walk your dog, cat, or opossum, vacuum, play frisbee, walk across long parking lots instead of hovering by the door. Be creative.
Anywhere from 75-90% of every calorie you burn is from just living. You burn 10-20% of your calories exercising at most, and that’s pushing it. Yet, most people jump into health kicks thinking exercise is the critical component. It’s not. Controlling your diet and maximizing your ability to consume and burn calories when you’re not moving is key to any long-term weight maintenance routine. Since most of your calories are burned from everyday living, the biggest bang for your time is derived by taking the effort to control what goes into your mouth. The second biggest results from moving, no matter how you choose to do so.
Exercise is essential for a lot of reasons. But you’re going to have to get over the mindset that it’s the single solution to weight maintenance. You’ll note that most healthy people incorporate activity into their everyday lives. It does not need to include weight-lifting, running, or other dedicated activities. If you enjoy those things, knock yourself out! If you don’t, find something that works for you – things that don’t cost you a fortune, injure you, or make you resent activity. We have so many options to entertain ourselves.
Most people don’t stick to unnatural attempts to exercise. Much of the gym universe is predicated on taking financial advantage of people’s inability to stick to life changes that become habits. All that time you spend driving to and from the gym would be much better served walking or finding ways to stay active during your day. (IF you’re not going to stick to it long-term, I mean) And if you do enjoy the gym, by all means, go! If you find that the routine of the gym galvanizes you into continuing with exercise, don’t think I’m saying it’s a waste. It’s not. Any routine that works for you is worth the effort, no matter what it is. If you’re willing to learn new comfort zones, you’ll more likely stick to what works for you. Don’t worry about what everyone else is doing.
And if you don’t, find inexpensive equipment to achieve the same result at home. Most of us are not athletes. Feel free to run if you want to. But a 180-lb person burns about 170 calories running a 10-minute mile. You burn roughly 100 calories walking a mile. This isn’t a cardio-versus-exercise post. The point is that if you commit to a sustainable diet and activity, you’ll be more likely to be successful. Sheer bouts of willpower don’t work very well. And they contribute to that creeping feeling of failure or disappointment when you fall off the wagon.
Quit fighting the science that tells us that slower-paced exercise yields almost the same benefit as intense bouts of bone-wearying exertion. If you do activity or exercise that builds muscle, you’re going to burn more calories when you do give in and sit on the couch. You don’t have to spend an hour at a time to get healthy. However, you have to commit to making habits that make staying fit and healthy an inevitable consequence. Taking six ten-minute walks yields almost the same health benefit as an hour-long walk.
If you do build muscle mass, you’ll burn a lot more calories than by simply losing weight. It’s one of the reasons you need to keep in mind that muscle will increase your weight and keep you healthier and adjust your metabolism. And you’ll look better and feel better. I’m not anti-weights at all. I’m anti-starting-what-you-can’t-always-continue-to-do. Every activity you choose pushes other alternatives out. If you’ve got the time and stamina for weight training, that’s great! I don’t want you blaming your perceived ‘failure’ for not going to the gym. You don’t need a gym if you have the motivation to do things differently.
Recently, someone I know was lamenting that she hadn’t “went to exercise the entire week.” I asked, “But if you’re at home on the couch, you can do 1,000 exercises. Pushups, dumbbells, walk in place, run in place, etc. If you can watch four hours of tv, you can definitely do 30-60 minutes of activity – and still watch tv while you do it.” She looked at me blankly, knowing I’d eviscerated her excuse. “Yes, but a couple of those evenings I was at sporting events or with a friend.” I paused. “Okay, but you can still do a lot of activity when you’re at a sporting event or a friend’s house. Or, heaven forbid, while you’re working. Instead of getting out your phone, do sets of exercises. How is that any ruder than ignoring your friend while you’re on the phone? You can still talk to your friend even if you’re on the floor doing pushups. You have to normalize your choices and stop normalizing your excuses.” My sermon was over.
Use incrementalism to achieve the same objective without devoting your precious time to artificially forcing yourself to exercise. If you can’t do it the rest of your life, you’re making it worse for your future self.
Pick something you know you don’t need. Doritos, for example. Eat less of them. Just that tiny step will, over time, reduce your weight and improve your health. Keep adding small changes by choosing differently. If you’re not hungry, stay out of the kitchen. If you can, don’t bring home things that you know you can’t resist. Use them as treats rather than staples. In our world, there are so many options we can choose from instead of empty calories. You’re not going to get where you want to be by doing the same things; change is mandatory.
It’s day one for you, rather than “one day.”
Keep moving. Eat less.
Find ways to make food both enjoyable and rational. If you don’t choose to do this, your hard choices are already made for you – and the person you’ll be next year will have to deal with your current inability to focus.
Food is not going to stop being delicious. Food manufacturers are beyond incredible at what they do. They design foods that make you want to eat more. Don’t feel wrong about being normal and loving such foods. Feel bad that you know it and won’t choose a different way to react.
So what if you binge on terrible foods? It’s more about the arc of your effort than a single day. Eat a large pizza or a pan of lasagna. A single day’s extravagance will not derail you. It’s all mental.
Choose your hard until it becomes easy.
I’m just a few days away from October. I started my journey and promised myself I’d take a hard look after a year. Despite having surgery, I’m more convinced than ever that I’ll never be fat again.
It’s just math: keep my intake lower than my exertion. It’s not much of a secret formula, is it? You already know all of this.
WW, Jenny Craig, and the hundreds of other programs are out there if you need them and if they work for you. But it is entirely possible to achieve your goals without paying for an extra program.
The secret is a desire to be the person you want to be and find a way to get there.
Put it into literal action.
Love, X
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P.S. Yes, that picture behind me is of a monkey seeing my reflection in the handheld mirror..
I didn’t make this; I modified it, but I love the plot twist of the sentiment. I say the first part often – but love the alternate sentiment, too. It’s like an Angry Hallmark card. (Patent Pending)
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I got a Covid booster shot yesterday. My arm feels like I had a punching contest with Joe Buss. (For those who don’t know him, imagine the Incredible Hulk except with a bad haircut.) Flu shots start Monday. I think I need to schedule an acupuncture appointment for Tuesday or possibly a 12″x12″ tattoo. I’d hate to forget the pleasure of needles.
P.S. Using dumbbells evidently gives me the reminder I need.
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I burned my feet making breakfast… in the toester.
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When you need someone to do something really bad, wouldn’t you go to Rent-A-Sinner?
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Trying to decide if the surgeon would like to be pranked and scared by me jumping out from behind the door. If I do it, he might opt to remove my staples with a paper stapler remover.
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I got the Arkansas Guide To Nature: Senior Edition today in the mail. Recommendation: “Look out the window and don’t be stupid. Nature’s not for you.”
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Ridiculous But Logical HumorA single friend of mine told me he was having difficulty meeting single women. I explained to him that my law of simplicity offered a very clear and easy resolution to his problem. All he needs to do is to find an attractive woman who is walking with her significant other. And run said significant other over with his vehicle. The lady in question by definition is therefore immediately single. I’m not sure how elegant my solution is but it is absurdly logical.
You’re welcome, X
PS this is the kind of humor you get after you hope and pray that I survive emergency surgery. Just sayin’.
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This is for Maeghan, who should see an example of what words can convey and the model of what a good life can look like…
She paused to watch her children laughing. They are scattered around the kitchen table, each of them excitedly attempting to interject a bit of wit or insult to their siblings. Knowing they are together in a house she bought with her husband fills her with love and pride. She and Luis will soon celebrate their anniversary on Sept. 21st. Luis gives her passion, humor, and a face that should have been in a Boy Band.
She thinks about the four F’s: family, finances, faith, and fulfillment. After so many years of scratching from humble beginnings, she tries to remind herself of the gratitude that motivates her each day.
For the first time in her adult life, she can define all four by simply looking at the table full of children.
Education, house, career – all those things are essential. And each of them brings challenges. With the help of family who loves her and friends who laughingly support her, she incrementally finds a way to realize her goals. Like so many, her goals morphed and changed as she did.
Because her new career not only helps feed her children and her dreams, she realizes that helping people find homes in which to enjoy their lives might probably be the best job to have in the world.
She sat a minute longer, lingering with a faint smile on her face. When her journey started, she had no conception of fulfillment; this embodies it. Though she stood up from the couch with her head filled with to-dos for work, she realized that it wasn’t work at all. Few people have a life that they could happily call their own. It takes hard work and missteps, both in equal measure, to get where she is.
Most importantly, she now knows that everything that fills her to brim with love and kindness isn’t a ‘thing’ at all. She hopes that every house she sells will be home to a family like hers.
Amor + Work = Success
.
.
Today, at 2:40 p.m., a drunk driver slammed into the Razorback Malco theater. It was a box office smash.
I had a dream last night. It woke me up because I thought I was in the moment, awake, somewhere else. I’m not one to analyze dreams. This one required no introspection. It was a blunt message from my subconscious.
Wayne Dyer somehow was alive again. He stood at the front of the theater, speaking to four or five of us in the audience. He apologized for all the cancellations but said that the universe obviously wanted only us to hear the message:
“Love is omnidirectional. Meaning, happy and loving people radiate acceptance not just for the friends and family inside their narrow bubble, but also toward every single person around them. You can be fulfilled and love those closest to you fiercely. But you’ll never be who you’re supposed to be if you cut off that holy part of yourself that finds friends everywhere. Not all those you find will reciprocate. In fact, many of them will react to you with indifference and perhaps even callousness. That’s on them – not you. You must be omnidirectional in everything you do. When you leave here tonight, I’ll be gone. One day, you’ll be gone, too. Find a way to express your love for everything. If you have the attitude of acceptance and intimacy in your heart, the best things and people will find a way to be around you. Trust me. I love you all.”
Wayne walked off stage, leaving us sitting there. When I stood up to leave, I woke up.
With that in my mind, read the captions of all these pictures (and one very short video joke…) 
P.S. Parenthetically Speaking 