Don't Mess With Me

There are a few phrases that just make my blood boil, make me want to turn and irrationally yell at whomever has just uttered those words. One of them is one I heard many times today - Don't take it personally. Don't take it personally??? Really??? When it affects me, it is personal. When it affects someone I love, it is personal. When it affects someone I respect, it is personal. I know I am not in a position to change rules, policies, et cetera in all areas of my life, but that doesn't mean I have to like them. I tend to be one of those people that quickly jumps up on my soapbox to defend my views or defend others (yeah, if you know me well, this fact comes as no surprise).  I happen to like my soapbox, finding it therapeutic to get worked up something, let out my frustrations, thoughts, emotions, and then stomp down and try to move on with my day. It is my adult version of throwing a toddleresque temper tantrum if you will. 


Today just happened to be one of those days that started with frustration, that continued with frustration, a day during which all little things seemed to annoy the hell out of me. Now before you say, whaaaa, whaaaa, stop whining, stop and think. We all have these days, and if you can't admit that you do, you are lying. I have the right to be frustrated with the world and in the end, the world will probably thank me for letting this frustration out today, rather than holding on to it and exploding in a not-so-pretty mess of frustration at the end of the week. In short, don't mess with me when I am already upset. 


What am I REALLY upset about? I'd rather not say, as I need to maintain personal and professional composure and save face. Most people who saw me today did not really see me, but rather my friend Molly, Molly Sunshine. Many of you know Molly well and perhaps even receive Molly as a visitor during you days we well. She is a lovely friend, the one who you hear coming out of my mouth when I say I am "Fine, just FINE!" Molly is the one who allows me to smile when I want to scowl, to answer the phone pleasantly when I want to just ignore the ringing or say "What do you want now?" Molly is a necessary part of my work day when I am frustrated. I am glad that she is there and I am sure my co-workers would agree, probably even suggesting that she continue to hang around until I can get my attitude in check. 


I try not to use this blog to just rant about things that upset or anger me, but today is one of those days. Perhaps it is more of several days of little frustrations all built up, then set in motion by one bigger one from today. Either way, I am aware of the fact that I am not the most pleasant person to be around today. My apologies. Perhaps tomorrow I will be back to being the ray of sunshine that you all have come to love. So, early to bed with hopes of letting sleep clear my mind and put me back on an even playing field. I just have to remind myself that it's just life and things could be worse... but honestly, I am glad they're not. I might just wring Molly's little neck....


What frustrates you and how do you handle it? Suggestions?

Blood, Sweat and Tears

They are told it will be hard, possibly the most challenging thing they have ever done or will do. They are told it will be long, 12 to 16 hours to be exact. They are told it will be rough, possibly resulting in cuts, bruises, bleeding, even broken bones or a concussion. They might be scared, but they are ready, and they are strong. They are the amazing people who test for a Black Belt in martial arts, who work hard and use all that they have, their strength, skill, determination, discipline, heart, soul, blood, sweat and tears to earn the rank of First Dan. Today, my brother Austin, 15 years old and 7 years of karate strong, earned that impressive rank, and became Sensei Austin. I am beyond proud of him and I know that rest of our family, as well as his karate instructors, feel the same way.

Austin started karate, excited and enthusiastic, wearing his first gi, all white and with a white belt. Over the last seven years, we have seen his natural talent manifest itself, his skills become honed and his confidence, strength, and "inner black belt" shine. He carries himself with the confidence of someone who knows he is strong, mentally and physically and and as his studio's Student Creed says, with a positive attitude. He has developed into not only a student of his chosen art, but a teacher as well, setting an example for other students as well as for others around him in his everyday life.

After a grueling 2 day test of not only his strength and skill , but his discipline, his desire, and his character, Austin is an official Black Belt, proudly the rank of First Dan. His body is bruised and sore and his mind is exhausted, but he stands tall, proud of what he has accomplished at the age of 15. Proud probably doesn't describe what our parents, grandparents, and other brother feel, but whatever it is that we feel for him today, we all show it with huge smiles and lots of hugs for our newest Sensei.

There is another someone special who is also feeling extra proud today, Austin's teacher, Sensei Amy. She is a wonderful woman, someone I am lucky to know. Amy is an amazing karate instructor, but is so much more to many of her students. As she said at the ceremony today, through tears of joy and pride, her students, the other instructors, and so many of us as well, are like family. She supports her students as well as their families as they journey towards their karate goals. She definitely looked proud to present Austin with his Black Belt today, and I know he was proud to have earned it alongside her.

There may have been more bruises and scrapes, rather than blood, but I know both sweat and tears flowed freely over the last 2 days. Sweat from hard work, sweat of anticipation, tears of pain, tears of frustration, tears of pride, tears of exhaustion, tears of joy. I am so proud of Austin and his accomplishments. He is truly strong in so many ways. Here's to you Sensei Austin!

Yes, I Give Myself Pep Talks, Well, Kind Of

Have you ever had one of those days when you feel as if nothing is going right and no matter what you do, you can't seem to get rid of the little grey cloud above your head? Well, I know I have those days and I have found that just doing something little for myself, no matter how small it may be, can make it better. Instead of counting on others and outside forces to make the day a bit sunnier or less stressful, I have found a way to give myself a little pep talk, a reminder that I can handle anything. 

On one of these most challenging days, a few months ago, I was out purchasing program supplies for work, and randomly sitting on a shelf in the kiddie craft section, completely out of place was this little gem:

Being the shoe lover that I am, I knew it was a sign. I purchased it for myself (who doesn't love random gifts for no real reason, even if they are from yourself) and upon my return to the office, quickly placed it on my desk, not out there for everyone to see, but right where I can see it when I need it. I always say that wearing fabulous shoes can bring an improvement to your attitude, so now, on those most trying of days, I sneak a peak at this little picture, then look down at the soles I chose that day. Then, I take a deep breathe and I swear I can feel my soul smile. 

What little things bring you joy when you are feeling down or overwhelmed?

Don't Get Too Comfortable....

At church this past Sunday, Fr. Bob spoke about stepping outside your comfort zone. I felt as if he was talking to me specifically. You see, I spent three days last week outside of my comfort zone. I put myself there. I wanted to be there. I was part of a small group that trained to facilitators on the new High Ropes course at camp. I was excited and nervous at the same time, having no clue what to expect. Unlike the other participants, I had never been on or even looked at a high ropes course and was feeling a little overwhelmed at the beginning. I can’t say it was completely the heights, but frankly, 20 or 40 feet in the air, standing on a wire or a teeny tiny platform, scary. The course was mentally challenging, even more so than physically. I made the choice to take that training and wanted to squeeze every drop of experience out of it that I could.



There were people in the group I knew, people I didn’t, people I felt super comfortable with and trusted, and others I wasn’t so sure about. Trust is not something I can give on a whim. I don’t want to be preachy and say that you have to earn my trust, yadda yadda, but honestly, I had a hard time just putting my life in someone’s hands right away. Saying to someone, “Yes, go ahead, clip me into these cables and I’ll just trust you” or “Sure, I’ll stand on this platform with you and trust you to send me down the zip line” or “Uh, okay, I’ll climb this wall and let you control the ropes that keep me from plummeting to the ground,” not so easy. It was a completely different world up there, at least the view I had. It was new, it was scary, it was challenging to the body. I had muscles that hurt that I didn’t know I had, I had scrapes and bruises, I had a thumb that was still healing that got pushed to it’s limits and perhaps beyond.


Going beyond what we perceive to be our limits is not easy at all. As humans we like to comfortable, we find our circle, our niche, the places and people we feel at ease with, and we tend to stick with that. Some people are brave souls, living life outside that circle, or perhaps with no circle at all. It is a challenge and a choice to step outside that comfort zone, to take a leap of faith (though often not so literal of a leap), and try something new. Climbing the wall, riding the zip line, traversing elements suspended in the air, none of these things fall within my comfort zone. I stepped outside, took some deep breaths, and went for it, did the best I could, and told myself that trying something new, taking the challenge, already means I succeeded. I may not have been the best at doing the tasks, but I did the best I could.


It was odd to sit in church, where, to be completely honest, I am not always listening, and feel like someone was talking to me. I know Fr. Bob wasn’t, but relating what he was saying to what I had experienced for three days, was interesting. I can’t say the moment was particularly religiously significant, but rather personally significant. It was a moment when the term, a leap of faith, took on some new meaning for me. I literally had leapt and had to have faith, not only in myself, but others. Faith and trust went hand in hand, and thankfully, those were strong hands!


What have you done that has put you outside your comfort zone? How did you feel afterwards?

Hello, My Name is Negative Nelly

Occasionally I am accused of being cynical. Well, maybe accused is the wrong word, perhaps called out on the fact that I am at times a cynic is a much better and more accurate statement. I know I tend to look at the negative side of things, but mostly when it comes to certain situations or topics. Some of my friends find it pretty amusing and this weekend, one of them found a book that was apparently “perfect” for me. It is titled “I Hate Everything.” It is one of those cute little books that you give someone as a gift, the kind that sit on your coffee table that people pick up and flip through. I have to admit that I did laugh at some of what it said, each page being a statement that began “I hate...,” that statement then being filled in with something that the author finds awful or has no patience for. These simple negative statements are each accompanied by a rather unrefined drawing of the offensive thing. As I flipped through the book, I found myself agreeing with many of the statements.


Who knew I hated so many things? I am not sure I actually hate them per say, but am more so just annoyed by certain things. It is odd for me to think about considering I so often find myself saying how much I love this or that. My excitement at the things I truly enjoy sometimes knows no bounds, but apparently neither does my level of annoyance for others. So, just for fun, here is a short list of things I hate, find annoying, don’t understand, loathe, et cetera and so forth:

I hate running.
I hate the sound of a soprano sax.
I hate bad shoes.
I hate people who wear bad shoes.
I hate when people look like they got dressed in the dark.
I hate root beer.
I hate the smell of frying meat.
I hate rude neighbors.
I hate cramps.
I hate when my fave show is not on TV.
I hate people who look like they need to eat.
I hate when skinny people complain about needing to lose weight.
I hate watching the news.
I hate when there are a different set of expectations for different people.
I hate when people think the rules don’t apply to them.
I hate Facebook application requests.
I hate the sound of a poorly played oboe.
I hate being tired.
I hate doing dishes.
I hate sore, stiff knees.
I hate when people quote movies as a form of conversation.
I hate not having enough money.
I hate when people show off how much money they have.
I hate spiders.
I hate snakes.
I hate mosquitoes.
I hate bad hair days.
I hate when I run out of tea bags.
I hate when I am running late.
I hate when I can’t sleep.
I hate mushrooms.
I hate when people narrate what they are watching on TV.
I hate being bored.
I hate when people don’t get a clue.
I hate when I get too busy to read a good book.
I hate being hungry.
I hate being ignored.
I hate being taken for granted.
I hate pretty people who treat you badly.
I hate people who repost every YouTube video ever made as a Facebook status.
I hate the sound of cracking knuckles.
I hate the when everything that can go wrong does.
I hate infomercials.
I hate commercials for weight loss after New Years.
I hate feeling like I am not good enough.
I hate letting others down.
I hate letting myself down.
I hate being lonely.
I hate being bombarded.
I hate missing people.
I hate overkill.
I hate bad drivers.
I hate when my phone gets lost in the bottom of my purse.
I hate that carb loading is not always acceptable.
I hate when the phone rings during my fave show.
I hate bad speeches.
I hate being blamed for things that are not my fault.
I hate people who are childish and run away from their problems.
I hate Valentine's Day.
I hate when I go to the copy machine and it always seems to be out of paper.
I hate when I make silly mistakes.
I hate excuses.
I hate writer’s block.
I hate liars.
I hate stomachaches.
I hate headaches.
I hate heartaches.
I hate making enemies.
I hate losing friends.

Okay, so it may not be so much a case of hate, but of knowing what pushes my buttons. Perhaps my buttons are easily pushed when it comes to certain things, and obviously some things bother me way more than others. Maybe some of things things come down to me needing to have more patience or be more accepting. I have noticed a lot of people lately writing about what makes them happy in their lives. It is not that I am completely unhappy, but more so that I think it is healthy to know what bothers you so that you can try to counteract it, to know what things require more patience, or even what things or situations to avoid. Life cannot be all sunshine and rainbows, nor can it be one rain cloud after another. Perhaps I will soon share a list of my favorite things, the things I love the most, when I feel like it that is.

Even if you are a positive person most of the time, what do you hate? What pushes your buttons?

Who Doesn't Love a Good Cookie?

I love cookies; they are absolutely one of my favorite treats ever! Who doesn’t love cookies? Whether they are grabbed from the Oreos package on the counter or fresh baked, they are amazing. My love of cookies runs deep, think Angelica from the old-school Nickelodeon cartoon “Rugrats.” Seriously, I never seem to get enough. Well, sometimes things change….

When you work for the Girl Scouts, cookies take on a whole new meaning. I am sure that most of you are now drooling at the thought of Thin Mints, but let me tell you, the behind the scenes is a completely different world. Now, I do not mean for this to be an exposé on the world of Girl Scout cookies, but there is a lot of work that goes on before, during and after the sale that leads to you getting those coveted boxes from your smiling neighborhood Girl Scout. There is a staff that works hard to prepare troop leaders and other volunteers for the sale, ever so nicely schooling them on how to talk to the parents of the girls in their troop about the sale, when to sell (and not to sell early, as that is a big no-no), how to place their troop order, where and when and how to pick up the orders, deliver the orders, collect the money. Yes, it is a lot of information and a lot of work for the troop leaders as well. They are volunteers that are so generous with their time and a big part of why the cookie sale is such a big success in councils all over the country. There are area cookie coordinators who organize all the details of the ordering and delivery of the cookies for their town or county. So many people behind the scenes that you, as a cookie-loving supporter of Girl Scouts, never see.

Cookie time is hectic to say the least. It is a time of hauling boxes, resulting in sore muscles and scraped knuckles, paper cuts and headaches. It is a time of organizing and re-organizing, phone calls and money collection. It is a time when drive from town to town to oversee and assist with deliveries and in the process, you get really sick of the smell of cardboard. As a staff member, you might feel overwhelmed, and rightly so. At the end of the day, it is a labor of love, truly. It is about girls gaining valuable leadership experience, learning about financial literacy by counting their boxes and dollars, setting goals and working to meet them, of working to earn money to do special projects or go on trips. For some little girls, the first time they get that cookie order card and knock on the neighbor’s door, is magical, it is a moment they never forget. I know I still remember going door to door and selling cookies as a Girl Scout, a proud member of Troop 58, Land of Lincoln Council. It was such an experience, and me being the little goal-getter, I always tried to sell as many as I could, more than anyone else in my troop. Usually, I succeeded. It was hard work, but oh so worth it in the end. Now, as an adult, it is so exciting to see girls come in and pick up their cookies, looking in amazement at the large stacks that they worked to sell.

Cookies sales do so much for the girls in Girl Scouts, they provide opportunities like nothing else can. They are part of something so large, a national experience of learning new skills and setting goals, and the excitement, oh the excitement! The sale also provides opportunities for the adult volunteers and supports the staff. It is a circle of support and energy and chaotic opportunity. So, when you open that box of Girl Scout cookies, so excited that they have finally arrive, think for a moment about the work that went into that box getting your hands, the staff, the volunteers, the girls. We may be exhausted and ready to see them go as quickly as they came, but deep down, we know it is a well-earned exhaustion, from laboring with love for all girls. Yes, I still love cookies and Girl Scout cookies rank amongst my favorites (no, they don’t pay me to say that), but I am, and by the end of this cookie delivery week, will be exhausted, not wanting to hear the word cookie for quite some time. I know, I know. When I started at Girl Scouts, I was told that my enthusiasm for cookie time would not last. Honestly, it has not yet faded. I can be enthusiastic and excited and exhausted all at the same time. Sometimes exhausted enthusiasm shows how hard you work and the passion you have. Perhaps a cookie will perk me up a bit....

Don't Worry Eve, It's Just an Apple....

You know that feeling, the one that makes you want to do something you probably know you shouldn’t do? Temptation. Ah yes, I know it well. Some people are good at walking away and not being tempted, but me on the other hand, well, I am just like Eve. Apparently that damn apple was so good that she couldn’t resist, even though she knew the consequences of taking that bite would be less than desirable.


Oftentimes I find myself knowing that there will be consequences to my actions, and not always good ones. Unfortunately, I give in, a lot. The things that tempt each of us are different. For me, there are things like an extra scoop of ice cream, an extra large bowl of chips and dip for a snack at a time when a small one would suffice. There are things like that one more drink when you are having fun with friends, even though you know you have to drive home, the one more hour of TV that you just had to stay up to watch even though you know you will be exhausted in the morning. Aside from these material things, consuming something, I find that people are often the source of my temptation. I am tempted to continue to forge relationships (and I use that word ever so lightly) with individuals who have hurt me in the past, with people who don’t seem to work as hard to form or build or keep said relationship with me. Sometimes I hold on to long to friendships, tempted simply by memories of what used to be, hopeful that it can be that way still or again.


Perhaps temptation for some is a lack of willpower, the inability to say no to something you really want. I can admit that while I do have my moments of weakness and enjoy that extra cookie (see subtext of I ate a whole tube of Thin Mints), that extra scoop of dip with my chips, I do have willpower most of the time. I know that I make my decisions, be they good or bad for me, and when I give in to these types of things, I know I am doing it and choosing to do so. I can accept (not always happily) the consequences later (see not wearing a smaller size in jeans). The more I think about it, the more that I am coming to believe that my weakness is being, at times, a glutton for punishment. I know when something is more than likely going to hurt me, but I welcome it anyway, either because, as the song says, “it’s alright because I like the way it hurts,” or because I enjoy the initial satisfaction, temporarily blinded to the all-too-familiar outcome. There is a fine line between being tempted and simply being gullible. Being gullible is, in my opinion, like living in a bubble, being naive and perhaps even uneducated at times. I see it as a choice. I think temptation, on the other hand, is part of life, something we all deal with, and anyone who says they always resist temptation, no matter its form, is a liar. No one is perfect and we all have those things that tempt us that we seem almost powerless against. Every Superman has his Kryptonite.


While learning to be strong against temptation is a good goal, I think the strongest of us embrace it as part of life. Temptation is a test perhaps, a test of our willpower, our inner strength, our beliefs and values, a test of who we are as people. Each of us is tempted differently, and while I try to get to know my sources of temptation and realize why they taunt me so, I can admit defeat. That’s not easy for me because I don’t like to give in, I don’t like to lose, but no one can win all the time, no one ever does. Perfection is one of the hardest things not to expect from oneself, especially when we so often expect it from others. Perhaps Eve was just like the rest of us, and whatever her true reasons for eating that apple were (I am sure like most women she had her secrets), she gave in. That doesn’t mean she always gave in or would have given in had the source of temptation been different. What if it hadn’t been the serpent? What if it hadn’t been an apple? What if the consequences had been different? Would she have acted and/or reacted the same way? Temptation is a personal thing and just like we can never understand the circumstances surrounding this historical temptation, we can never truly understand the temptations of others. It is something we all have to live with individually, and try not to judge others on. Perhaps I like being tempted. Perhaps I like being given the chance to flex my will and say no. Perhaps I like giving in at times. As we all know, that apple was sweet, but….