Relief

What an amazing week this has been.

The most important thing is that Elvira spent a couple of days at Primary Childrens getting her diabetes regimen tweaked. We met with a diabetes educator, pharmacist, phlebotomist, social worker, endocrinologist, psychiatrist, and the nicest nurses you can imagine. She did so great, and I'm so proud of her! Some new things to try, new people in her life, and hopefully the start of feeling much better about everything. We all needed this very much.

I had my vocal stroboscopy on Tuesday, which was very interesting. That was quite the experience! I had to look straight up at the ceiling while he tried to put a long, metal rod way down my throat to get a view of my vocal chords. I didn't throw up like I feared I would, but I came really close. The pictures weren't very good--the equipment was having issues--but it appears that I suffered "unexplained nerve damage" to my vocal chords. It could have been caused by the fever I had for so long, indicating some virus that was attacking me, but even that probably shouldn't have been so specific to that one tiny nerve. It doesn't appear to be something that is reversible, so I think that the voice I have now is it. It's not really too different from what it used to be, except I can't yell at all. Good news for my family, I suppose! Zero pain associated with it, which is lucky. Now it's all in my ENT's hands, so I will wait to see if he sends me in for an MRI or further testing. If this is as bad as it gets, I can happily live with it.

I've had some other really amazing experiences this week that I'm not going to write about, but they were extremely cool. Having the opportunity to apologize, be forgiven, clear the air, mend fences--whatever your personal issue is--is an amazing gift, and one which I am truly grateful for. When you think about all the things that can happen in life to prevent you from ever having that chance again, it truly is a blessing when the planets align and you are given an opportunity to do so.

Pathways

St. Louis Botanical Gardens

I recently read through my entire blog, each post for the past year of my blogging life. I was left with the feeling that I was dissatisfied, searching, and trying to talk myself into being happy. Several kind friends have noticed the same thing. I am at an age (45) when I am still young enough to have a different life. I can't go back and change the past, but I can still create a different future by choosing differently now. That's a very seductive thought. Am I happy? Is my life now what I thought it would be? Is my future something to look forward to, or to dread? Did I marry the right man, have the right number of children, live in a part of the world I could be happy in? Is there one right answer?

Except for the six years I spent in Germany and a few others here and there, I basically grew up in St. Louis. It has such a unique quality about it that is hard for me to describe. My family has lived in Missouri since 1811, and I think that over the years our genetic makeup changed to make us dependent on the air and water of that place to feel complete. Even here, on a winter night in Utah, I can smell the summer night of home, the steaminess of it. A halo of humidity settling around the streetlights at night, crickets chirping, fireflies flickering, cut grass begging me to lie down and enjoy the brief coolness. Riding bikes down the golf course paths through sprinklers, running around the backyard collecting jars full of fireflies, a stolen kiss on the porch at midnight when I was older. Walking on the slope of the levee along the Mississippi with the men in their seersucker and the women in their cotton skirts headed to dinner on a riverboat. The smell of a baseball game, the community of strangers standing in line at Ted Drewes, a night at the Muny watching Broadway musicals. I always wanted my children to experience what I was fortunate enough to have. But while a few days here and there every couple of years have only given them the briefest taste of my home, it's enough to make me continually ache for more.

And yet, in the absence, we have a home here, as well. Dinner on the deck at twilight under twinkling lights and candles, the welcome chill that comes during a summer night, picking currants in the afternoon shade, the smell of wet earth from our garden, the sound of happy children in the street. The first glimpse of color on the mountain signalling that fall is on its way, the brilliant whiteness of snow on Timp, and the unearthly blue of a Utah sky. This place has become a huge part of me--I've lived here so much longer than I ever lived in Missouri. I know every street by heart, and love so many people who have cared for me and my family over the years. I honestly can't say that, given the choice, I would immediately choose to leave here. I would be torn.

I don't think that, for me, there are right and wrong answers about where I live or who I spend my life with. I made choices many years ago that led to this very moment in time. I have a husband who loves me, children that I wouldn't have missed out on for the world, and a life that has been more than fair and good to me. Maybe it's just my nature to constantly reevaluate my life and question my decisions. The first half of my life has been full of adventure, love, loss, surprise, joy, pain, regret, and contentment, which is as it should be.

So I take a deep breath and jump into the second half of my life, fully expecting and hoping for more of the same.

My International Cinema List

Cinema Paradiso

Writing my last post got me thinking about the foreign language films that I love the most. I'm going to have Sweetie make his own list, but here are my favorites. Try to always get the widescreen subtitled versions whenever possible.

1. Cinema Paradiso--I love this film. It's so sweet, funny, redemptive, and heartbreaking. I don't care for the Nuovo version, but the original is almost perfect.

2. Jean de Florette/Manon of the Spring--two-part Marcel Pagnol story filmed in Provence, Emmanuelle Beart looks like Aphrodite, mistaken identities, tragedy, redemption, gorgeous.

3. Fanny Trilogy (Marius/Fanny/Cesar)--another Pagnol series, it's a sweet, sad story of true love interrupted. Filmed in the 1930s, it's beautiful.

4. Das Boot--Go for the subtitled on this one for sure. Amazing film, so passionate, one of the few to make you cry for the Germans during WW2. Fabulous music.

5. A Room With A View--technically not a foreign language film, but Merchant-Ivory makes it look like one. I adore this film and have seen it tons of times. Funny, romantic, makes me want to move to Italy. Not depressing like other E.M. Forster stories. Helena Bonham-Carter, Julian Sands, Daniel Day Lewis--can't go wrong.

6. Henry V--still a foreign film since much is in French. Shakespeare, takes place during the Battle of Agincourt in 1415. Tragic, gorgeous score, heartbreaking, funny, romantic in the midst of all the blood and destruction. Whenever one of my kids says they don't know something, I always say, "Well, do any of your neighbors know?" which comes directly from this play.

7. Not One Less--so sweet, a teenage teacher travels to a big city to rescue a student gone astray. Beautiful, funny, sweet.

8. The Umbrellas of Cherbourg--sad, sweet story of doomed romance. Beautiful colors and music. It was the first foreign film Elvira read all the subtitles for, and she was only seven. So proud!

9. Cyrano de Bergerac--Gerard Depardieu et la belle Anne Brochet (so lovely). You know the story, but this is the best version, in my opinion.

10. Le Comte de Monte Cristo--another Gerard Depardieu fav, this time a four-part French miniseries. Much more faithful version than the 2002 film with Jim Caviezel, though that's great, too. It's long, but worth it.

I could make a list of about 50, but I'll stop here. If you want more suggestions, visit the IC site and check out the archives.

It's All Greek To Me

Well, now that I've posted all about my playlist, I'm sick of it. So I made a new one with a lot of French and Italian songs we listen to around the house. I hope you don't mind opera, because I love it.

In an effort to be more cheerful, I think all of the songs are pretty happy. At least, they make me happy. I'm not really sure what some of the operas translate to, so that might be surprising for me. After so many years of trying to learn German, I think it's time I try another language. Maybe during Spring Term.

Playlist, Pt. 3

Bryan Ferry

This has been very fun for me to write about. I always wanted to be a DJ, and now I kind of get to be!

When Sweetie and I drove from Chicago to St. Louis for the weekends, we always took Paul Simon's Graceland and Street Life by Roxy Music & Bryan Ferry with us. He has a very unique, sexy, haunting voice that really appeals to me. When I worked at Leo Burnett in Chicago there was a music store just down the street that I would hang out in on the rare times I could take a break during lunch. One afternoon they were playing Roxy Music's "Avalon" album, and I was just mesmerized. I'll put a few extra tracks on my playlist so you can enjoy them, too. And I love Bryan Ferry's solo stuff even more than the Roxy Music collective efforts. He did an album called "As Time Goes By" that is his covers of old standards from the '30s. Gorgeous. I'll pop one of those on, too. Unfortunately, this is one area that Elvira and I disagree on. She can't stand his voice!

We all have the things that make us go weak in the knees, and for me it's a Scottish accent. No idea why, but I could listen to Craig Ferguson read the phone book. When I was in college I spent more than one Sunday night sitting on the floor of my bedroom in the dark listening to a radio show called "London Calling" from the BBC that played only British New Wave music. I've always loved British groups the best--there's an edge to them that I really dig. A good 80% of my list is from the UK and Ireland, including the very Scottish KT Tunstall. I love "Other Side of the World"--it's so desperate and sad. I'm also throwing "Funnyman" on there for a few days.

Lots of one-shots on there, like Eric Clapton (I love this version of "Layla" best), Genesis (favorite track ever), Tori Amos, Shawn Colvin, etc. I don't think I'll devote a full paragraph to any of them, but I do really like these songs. I'm put on some Proclaimers, Depeche Mode, and a few other goodies for a little while for your listening pleasure.

I don't seriously expect people to keep my blog up all day and listen to my music. I do it, but I don't expect you to! I can get so much more done around here when I have good music to listen to. Need to mop the floor but don't want to? Throw a little Jem on and it's done in a flash. Give some of them a try!

Happy Valentine's Day, Bubba

I've had some interesting experiences in my day. It's not really that surprising that I have a bit of a dark side. Here's a vintage one that never seems to lose its shock-value.

When I was an 18 year-old freshman at BYU (this is '81-'82), one of my dorm floormates was taking a Psych class. The professor asked the girls to recruit other female students to attend a dance at the Utah State Prison with the convicted sex offenders in an effort to "provide them with positve social interactions." Go ahead--take time to reread that line and we'll go on. Ready? So of course, we were all horrified, disgusted, and no-way-in-hell-will-you-ever-get-me-to-do-that(ed). But she was so desperate to get extra credit or something that she would not let it rest. Finally, we decided (as only stupid 18 year-old BYU girls could do) that there was safety in numbers and we would do this, with the assurance that there were guards everywhere and we would be perfectly safe. I know that the picture I had in my head was of a well-lit open room, a couple of songs, then we could go home. Never assume that the penal system thinks the same way you do.

Somewhere around 20 of us (there was a shockingly low average IQ that year, I think) drove in through the gates, and they closed tight behind us. There were armed guards watching us from the towers as we drove around the side to an entrance in a dark parking lot. Wouldn't you think that lighting is one thing prisons wouldn't scrimp on? We all wanted to turn back at that point, but instead we walked up the steps and through the door.

Okay, growing up in the military we had places called "Teen Clubs", which were supposed to be places where kids could dance, play pool, and stay out of trouble. What our Teen Club really was was a place where kids could make out, smoke pot, and meet up before sneaking off to get drunk. This had the same feel. The room was dim with a disco ball hanging from the ceiling. I kid you not. And there surrounding the perimeter were the scariest looking group of men you can imagine. Then the door shut behind us and we were stuck for the night. We were told that if we tried to leave we would be shot. Maybe that was a sick joke, but I certainly believed it. There were non-prisoners there, but I'm pretty sure they were just a bunch of therapists. I thought there was a chance I could beat them up, let alone what a 300 pound convicted felon could do if he were so inclined.

At the time I was a little bitty thing, about 125 pounds of nothing. So when Bubba, which was actually his name, pointed at me from across the room and said "I wants to dance wid choo!" at the top of his lungs, there wasn't a whole lot I could do about it. So I became Bubba's "date" for the evening. Nothing like being held close by a large, sweating, scary man who had already done things my teenage brain couldn't even imagine. Bubba turned out to be quite the Fred Astaire, at least in his mind. He flipped me all over that room. At one point I ended up on the floor, but he had me back on my feet in no time. He had eyes for no one but me. What a lucky girl.

This seriously lasted for about two hours. Like it was a real date! We finally got to leave and I shook all the way home. Then I took a hot shower. Then another one. Not everyone felt that way, though. Some of the other girls danced with inmates that looked like any other normal guy. They were so charmed they gave them their real names and phone numbers. Did you know that prisoners can call the dorms collect? They can.

Apparently, we were not the first group of girls to do this. I believe that BYU participated in this for several semesters, if not years. Eventually, it was determined that these "evenings" really weren't all that helpful in reducing the recidivism rate of the offenders, and it was discontinued.

Ya think? Eventually the dreams slowed and I no longer screamed in my sleep. I'm kind of kidding about that, but kind of not. But shame on that BYU professor. I doubt he would have ever asked his own daughters to do that. Fortunately, Elvira is much smarter than her mother and would (hopefully) never do such a stupid thing.

So when I post my dark little ditties on the playlist, just know that much darker ones are playing in my head.

Playlist, Pt. 2

Duffy

To me, my playlist is full of happy, danceable songs. Elvira has brought it to my attention that they are really rather dark, angsty, and slightly angry. I see her point. But they are happy songs to me! I was raised on "Mack the Knife" which is really just a song about a serial killer. I knew all the words by the time I could talk, I think. I don't like skulls, horror movies, or blood. But I love my music.

Case in point: The Smiths. Oh Morrissey. In another life, it would have been me that was your muse. No one can make depression and tragedy sound more appealing. And those eyes! He's a looker, that's for sure. Those of you who saw "New York Doll" (and if you haven't, please do) will remember him as one of the primary contributors. After my doctor's visit last week I listened to "Girlfriend In a Coma" all the way home. It calmed me down and made me smile. That's a little twisted, I guess. And there's nothing like hearing the sweet sounds of a children's choir singing "Hang the DJ" on the song "Panic." They grow up so fast. But I don't even come close to my sister Caroline as far as my devotion is concerned. Nothing like a woman in love...

It's never advisable to tackle a home improvement project without a good soundtrack. The opening CD to our painting project at Em's was Duffy's "Rockferry", which did the trick admirably. I love her voice. She's like a cross between Dusty Springfield and Petula Clark. "Mercy" is a great R&B track, and "Delayed Devotion" is the sort of anthem I want my daughters to memorize before they start dating. Boys, you've been forewarned. It reminds me of one of the few times that I did and said the right thing in a particular relationship (not Sweetie, obviously).

I first heard the Beautiful South when I popped in to visit Em at the music store she worked at many years ago. They were playing a used CD over the speakers and I had them take it out and sell it to me on the spot. I never grow tired of them, and love every track. "Song For Whoever" is what I like to think of as making lemonade out of lemons. My apologies to those of you who have dated girls with those names. I recently pulled off "Les Yeux Ouverts" because Elvira got tired of it. That's just a french cover of "Dream A Little Dream" from the film "French Kiss." I'm sure it will make another appearance in a few months. This particular version of "Song For Whoever" is not the one on my CD. It's an extended version that gets really boring at the end. Feel free to skip about the last two minutes of it.

There's your music lesson for today. Now everyone go do their homework.

Playlist, Pt. 1

I owe much of my playlist to Elvira and Pandora. For those of you who haven't visited Pandora.com, you are really missing out. Just type in the name of any song you like, and they will "create" a commercial-free radio station for you that you can listen to whenever you log on. It's amazing, and we've heard artists from all over the place that were completely unknown to us.

I had heard Imogen Heap's name, but had no idea who she was. Then I heard "Spooky" from the movie "Just Like Heaven" and "Can't Take It In" during the end credits of "The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe." I was hooked. The four tracks I have on my playlist are probably my favorites by her, but she's incredible on everything. If you really love her, she was in a duo called "Frou Frou" that had some great CDs out.

Jem is a find from Pandora. Her CDs are some of the few that I've actually bought, rather than downloaded. I listen to her nearly every day when I walk to work. "Wish I" and "They" are not always my most favorite (though I love them), but they are pretty catchy.

"40'" by Franz Ferdinand is one of Elvira's current favorites. I dare anyone to listen to it while they're unloading the dishwasher and not start dancing. Not physically possible.

Last, but not least, the Talking Heads. I'm one of the few people you'll ever meet that saw "Stop Making Sense" and "True Stories" for full price, in the theater, more than once each. Though I never got to see them live, I dearly love them. "Naive Melody (This Must Be the Place)" is the sweetest song about home that I know. It makes me happy to be part of my original family and the mom of my new one every time I listen to it.

So there's part one. I change the songs on my list nearly daily as I find new ones and get tired of old ones. I'd love any suggestions for new ones!

Paging Dr. House

So I said I would tell how the whole ENT thing went, but it's actually been "going" for a month now. I wouldn't normally go into great detail on here, but maybe someone reading has an idea that hasn't been thought of before and that I like better than the one I got today.

Okay, so last fall I mentioned the whole CT scan thing, but I failed to mention that it followed a month of nightly fevers with no explanation. Every night around 10:00 my fever would spike to somewhere between 101-103. Weird. No reason why, no other symptoms. A few little things going on, but nothing showed up on the CT scan.

Then, about three weeks after the fevers ended, my voice got really hoarse, which would be over two months ago now. A month later, I finally went to the doctor and lo and behold, stroke-level high blood pressure appeared out of nowhere. Still no voice. So the ENT did a laryngoscopy, which involves running a long, flexible scope with a fiber-optic camera through the nose and down the throat. I did get to see my vocal chords on a big screen, but then I had to shut my eyes. Too creepy. A month of blood pressure meds and Prilosec for non-existent heartburn that could theoretically cause the vocal chord thing, then back to the ENT, which brings us to today.

Apparently, one vocal chord is shorter than the other, which indicates a nerve problem. So I'm scheduled for a video stroboscopy, where they put a rigid scope down your throat and use a strobe light to visually isolate each vocal chord and study it. I'll be wide awake and expected to make sounds and not throw up all over them. Fat chance. Then more than likely an MRI to trace the nerves up to my head and see if there is a tumor at the base of my skull.

This brings us to the potential diagnosis that I'm not really too crazy about. I just got my hair to a length I really like, and am not too keen on shaving it off. So, since Gregory House is not available to take my case, any of you Junior Detectives are more than welcome to take a whack at it. Any ideas?

Rules of Engagement

All right, Peanut Gallery. I have read your comments and reviewed your messages on Facebook. This is how it works.

1. This is my blog, and I'm going to write whatever I feel like at the time. I will then edit, tweak, rewrite, and delete to my heart's content. I can do that, because I'm the boss of it.

2. I am not the Philosophy professor in the family--Sweetie is. I've never taken a logic class in my life, and I'm sure it shows. I majored in Advertising, which is basically propaganda. That's the perspective I'm coming from. Maybe I'm trying to convince you of something, or maybe myself. This is my lab and you and I are the cute little rats. Don't be offended--I'll never try to sell you anything I'm not at least thinking of buying myself.

3. I don't have to defend my choices in music. I happen to think I have rockin' good taste in my tunes. There is a pause button on the playlist, so please feel free to use it if you don't agree with me. If you have some suggestions of things I might like, I'll listen to every one of them. And I will probably do a post explaining why some things are on there.

That's it. Not too tough. Keep reading and commenting--I love hearing all of it!

On a Dime

I love my life. I whine a bit too much, but I really do love my life. Sweetie is a great guy, and all four of the munchkins rock my world. My house is tiny, but it will be paid off in the forseeable future. Our garden is a lot of work, but Sweetie does a fabulous job with it. He gets more out of it than I know what to do with. I don't know what I'm going to grad school for, but I can take classes for free while I decide. My family lives far away, but I still have all of them. My in-laws are the sweetest people on the planet. I work hard, but I have work.

I'm sorry I've been so petulant lately. As soon as I started reflecting on my life, the more nitpicky I became. I just need to get even busier so my brain can take a well-needed (though not well-deserved) break.

25 Things

I got tagged by a couple of people on Facebook to compile a list of 25 random things about me. Here is my list. I probably shouldn't have put #21 on there, but it's the truth, so on it went.

1. I was born in Germany. Because of a paperwork mixup, I had to be naturalized as a U.S. citizen. My dad never told me I had dual citizenship because I was so obstinate he thought I would choose the German. Or so the story goes ...
2. I first arrived in the U.S. when I was nearly two, by boat. There was a storm at sea and I fell and got a black eye. Even my passport photo makes me look like a war refugee.
3. When I was 11 I ran into a chain-link fence, cut my face to the bone, broke my nose, nearly ripped off the tip of it, and bled all over the place. The Army plastic surgeons fixed me up and now you can barely tell. I still could use a nose job. And about 20 other "tweaks."
4. I fell in love with Chicago when I was 13 and decided then and there to move there when I graduated from college. And I did.
5. I can install light fixtures all by my little own self.
6. I went all the way to Paris with my sister and grandmother and only got to the first level of the Eiffel Tower. We split an omelette three ways and went back down. Someday I'm going back and going all the way to the top.
7. A Chicago cab driver told me I looked like a Greek goddess at dawn. I don't, but it is my absolutely favorite compliment. I tipped him very well.
8. I went to a San Antonio parade in 1979 where a sniper opened fire right in front of us and shot a bunch of people. My dad gave me his Combat Infantry Badge because I had seen my first enemy fire.
9. Seattle is my favorite U.S. city.
10. London is my favorite European city.
11. I spent two weeks on a lake in Switzerland with my grandmother, sister, and mom. There were dreamy Italian waiters, feather beds, hot chocolate ...
12. I would love to be a published author.
13. I worked for a top 5 Chicago advertising agency.
14. I would love to learn Italian and French. So I can flirt with dreamy waiters.
15. I was pretty easy-going until I was pregnant with my first kid. Now I'm the mom who says, "You'll shoot your eye out."
16. I have always wanted to be a jazz pianist. Oscar Peterson is my idol.
17. I was on our marching band flag corps in high school. My boyfriend said the shorts made my legs look sexy.
18. I can sew, quilt, cross-stitch, smock, needlepoint, and knit. I just choose not to. Except knitting.
19. I am a very good cook. Or so my sister tells me.
20. I make gorgeous currant jelly.
21. I swear like a sailor in my head. And when I'm driving.
22. I hate clowns--passionately.
23. I'm the only one of my siblings without a masters degree. It makes me crazy, but they tell me I'm being stupid. Stop saying that! I'm working on it!
24. I feel guilty for nearly everything.
25. Hearing my kids laugh is the happiest sound in the world.

#25 is a little cheesy, but that one is true, too.