Dana's Dailies

Dailies for 02.22.2009

He Ain’t Heavy, He’s My Neighbor

Dana @ 2:42 PM | Filed under: General

If you rely on mainstream media to inform you about what is and what is not, then you might be led to believe that:

We have become a nation that is so much more concerned with whether or not “someone gets away with something” than we care about helping a neighbor when he’s down and out…

Personally I beleive that:

If you show mercy to others than you will ultimately be shown much mercy…

Oh, and by the way:

Imagine what the world would be like if we all always got what it is we really truly deserve.

Dailies for 02.15.2009

Why I Hate The Beach Boys

Dana @ 1:44 PM | Filed under: General

I was sitting at my desk sipping a lukewarm cup of coffee, mindlessly surfing the Internet. I was also feeling kind of guilty because I should have been getting some work done when, with a single point and a double click, I transported myself right back to twelfth grade. Without meaning to I had Googled my way back to high school by stumbling upon my class reunion website. Like magic and without warning, I was seventeen years old again. Pulled backwards to a time and a place that I had originally intended to forget, I could not resist the opportunity to take a virtual walk down memory lane.

Mark Stahnke, Amy Gorsache, Michael Grundgeiger, Trina Tinglum–who were these people, all happy and hugging and bonding? And, where the hell was I?

Alone at my desk with a cold cup of coffee, I surfed well into the night, determined to survey every inch of that website. Picture after picture, I struggled to put the names with the faces. Page after page, I waited impatiently for the memories to return as I tried to reconstruct that part of my life, secretly hoping that in successfully doing so, I might finally be granted permission to fit into their world.

And then, as my luck would have it, there they were. Dawn Barrett and Ellen Klein. Even their names suggested that they were born to be on prom court. Every high school had a “Dawn Barrett” and an “Ellen Klein” setting the standard for popularity. The blond hair. The blue eyes. Cheerleaders. No memory of being a teenager would be complete without the two of them.

There sat Dawn on the hood of her butter colored Mustang convertible and just a photo away stood Ellen in her green and white varsity cheerleader sweater waving a bottle of beer. Go Spartans!

I cringed. It was all coming back to me now. “Oh God!” I buried my face in my hands in an effort to stop recalling the day that I fell flat on my butt and made an ass of myself trying out for the sophomore cheerleading squad. I had absolutely no business attempting to nail that cartwheel! And, just who did I think I was kidding that I could painlessly do the splits?

The Beach Boys taunting I Wish They All Could Be California Girls was all that I could hear as I peeled myself up off the gymnasium floor. All I could see out of the corner of my eyes were coaches decisively scribbling on clipboards. “Not a good sign” I muttered under my breath. “Not a good sign at all.”

I tried to avoid making eye contact with any of the other girls while I gathered myself to go but it was kind of unavoidable since they were all standing right in front of the only way out. I could feel them all staring. I imagined they were all wondering why I had even bothered to try out. I grabbed my coat, tried to hold my head high and hurried to slip past them as they collectively parted to move out of my way.

Dawn Barrett and Ellen Klein were selected as co-captains of the cheerleading squad that year. Meanwhile, I resigned myself to the fact that I would always be on the outside with my face pressed against the glass looking in. “And, that is about when”, I quietly whispered to myself, “that I started marking time”.

So anxious to escape, so desperate to grow up, I was ready to hurry up and graduate, leave town and discover something better, someplace else. I plowed through my classes and the parties and my midterms and the proms, fearing somehow that the future might become impatient and maliciously leave me stranded in my teens. And, in doing all that hurrying, I let high school pass me by.

Tired, and feeling as though I had sufficiently tripped, I decided to conclude my cyber journey. As I mentally prepared to shutdown my computer so that I could brush my teeth and go to bed, I decided to visit one more page. I hesitated and then cautiously clicked:

“In Memory Of”

I deliberately read each and every word of every single entry in an attempt, if only in private, to honor the lives that my classmates had lived. The more I read, the more I wondered about them and who they really were; about the details of their lives that had not been written down. Had life lived up to their expectations? I thought about the words that had been left unspoken; about the dreams that
would remain unfulfilled. What would they have done differently if they could do it all again? The sobering reality I guess, is that that there are no do-overs in “real life”. A do-over was something that we used to take for granted on the playground.

I sat frozen at my desk for just a little while longer, caught up in the cold reality that “time waits for no one”. Time doesn’t need our consent to march on and it doesn’t require our attention to leave its unavoidable mark on our lives. That’s not something that they teach you in high school.

Dailies for 02.08.2009

Love, Always

Dana @ 2:15 PM | Filed under: General

The sound of the telephone slamming on the other end signals something final this time. The clock suggests it is time to go. Struggling to locate my inner survivor, I resent the fact that I can’t take just another minute to absorb the crushing blow. What will life be like without her wisdom? What am I supposed to do without her constant advice?

Where will we spend Christmas?

Three o’clock always comes too fast.

I remember the days when I could afford to indulge in the self-pity party, complete with sad song in the background, playing over and over and over again, but motherhood dictates to me that it is suddenly time to grow up. And so, before I shake off any evidence of sadness or pain, before I pull myself together and get ready to go, I study my reflection in search of relief, crystal clear that there will be no sad song today. Standing there attempting to paint on a picture perfect stiff upper lip, I can’t help but imagine if I might be the one in twenty years, on the other end, slamming down the phone.

I haven’t seen my mother in five long years. We haven’t spoken in three. Does she ever wonder if I am okay? Wait. Three o’clock is the bewitching hour. Time to suck it up…

As I hurry to the door, careful before I leave to shift who I am being from rejected

daughter to devoted mother, I consider those days when I would wallow my way back from the land of my self–pity (and in my own sweet time), having come to the conclusion that, while feeling sad is one thing, being sad is a luxury that whether I resent it or not, I can simply no longer afford.

Dailies for 02.02.2009

Most Likely To Succeed

Dana @ 1:25 AM | Filed under: Podcast

You never know when something might happen that will threaten to alter the way that you perceive your existing reality. Sometimes it’s a big thing that happens like a career change or a job loss; a marriage or a divorce that will serve to re-inform and then reshape the certainty of your own private universe. Perhaps a significant introduction or maybe a serious illness will force you to have to reshuffle your deck and deliberately contemplate what you have been accepting as part of the absolute way that life “just is”.

Sometimes, however, it’s a little thing that happens; a discreet, unassuming, yet intrusive little nudge, that beckons quietly and…

Dailies for 02.01.2009

Wow…Will You Look At The Time

Dana @ 1:41 PM | Filed under: General

We had dinner the other day with someone who sincerely views the CEO’s in this country that continue to pay themselves healthy multi-million dollar bonuses while the country and it’s citizens are sacrificing, enduring one of the worst economic challenges in decades, as heroic, lonely and merely misunderstood.

Up to and until the sharing of this particular meal?

Auguste and I were all for healthy, robust political discourse between neighbors and friends.

After?

We are crystal clear why some things are just better left unsaid…

Head back to the top.