Let me start by saying I think I was a bit ambitious about gaining 5 years on my appearance by simply removing some moles. That was based on seeing the transformation made by a professor of mine who had moles on her face in college, and how dramatic the change was once she had them removed.
I think the recapturing-years-in-appearance factor depends on the moles and their size and color. She had 4 or 5 and hers were like the ends of erasers and were all pink or brown. She also had at least 15-20 years on my current age so she had more wiggle room on improving her apparent age than I do at 33.
I went for a consultation on March 12th to just find out what kind of options there are for removing facial moles. Turned out I could have it done right then and there. The dermatologist, Dr. Farrah Shah was wonderful. She gave me a choice of two techniques to use and then suggested we remove one using the least scarring technique and see what happened. I had a choice between slicing it off or having her go in and remove it from the root. We decided to start with the slicing and see how my skin healed before touching the others. She could always go in and remove at the root later if need be.
The actual procedure did not hurt. But the healing did hurt a bit the next day. It was just sore like a scab and itched like crazy. Nothing unexpected – it is healing skin. It took about 7-8 weeks to heal completely. That is quite a long time to have a big ole scab on your face right under your nose, which is where the mole was located. I initially wanted the thing removed because it looked like a booger in some pictures. And with the scab it looked like either a permabooger or a massive healing zit. Yuck!
And as the dermatologist warned, melatonin rose to the skin. Now this part is odd. The mole itself was almost flesh colored but the melatonin that rose to the surface is a light brown. So I now have a light brown freckle about 2 mm in diameter right under my nose.
I am still deciding what is preferable. The other one was not as noticeable because of color, but looked ugly because it was raised. This one is flat, but I haven’t yet figured out how to conceal it effectively. :-\
And now I’m also trying to decide what to do with the rest. I have a large mole on my chin but it is flesh colored and blends in when far away. But would a flat darker mole be preferable? It’d look like a freckle. Then I have two more smaller ones on the other side but they are going to grow.
At least through this experience I know the moles I want to remove have declined from 11 to 4. I've come to appreciate or at least not detest the itty bitty ones - they could be worse! But if I do remove the 3 remaining moles, I’m going to need to make arrangements to work from home or take vacation because that scab made me REALLY self conscious and 3 more at one time will really be icky!
Oh, to suffer under the burden of this vanity!
Saturday, May 8, 2010
Friday, April 30, 2010
3.2/101 #29 - Second of 5 Books from Oprah's Book Club
When I selected this novel, I was under the impression it would be about a woman with incredible strength and motherly love who faces an incredible obstacle in raising a special needs child.
That is what the book is about.
But I have to be honest I had a hard time getting into it. I always thought of myself as someone who enjoys historical fiction and maybe I still do, but there is something about this particular part of our nation’s history that makes me so uncomfortable – more likely ashamed – that I had a really hard time getting into the book.
First and foremost, it was really hard for me to get past the fact that Jewel, a woman raised in the mid-1900’s in Mississippi, refers to all Blacks as “niggers” for much of the book. I hate that word. Hate Hate HATE it.
I’m going to get into an introspective/confessional tangent here. So if you want to just know about the book, skip this section until you see “Back to Jewel” later on. I hate the word “nigger” for more reasons than because it is simply an ugly hateful word. I hate it because people I love who were born in the early 1900’s used it. While that was normal for their generation, I’m still ashamed that my relatives thought about all Blacks the way these loved ones did – that they were lower by nature, ignorant, not worthy to step into our homes and God FORBID they even think about taking one of “us” on a date. I hate the word, because people in my own generation used it all the time in high school. I went to a school that had an incredible amount of racial divisiveness – on both sides. I am ashamed to admit that I used the word once in high school. I am SO ashamed of that moment. I felt justified at the time. I was surrounded by people who classified Blacks as “Good Blacks” and “N’s.” I knew it was a hateful word but at the time felt self-righteous enough to believe that the word was simply the equivalent to “white trash” and meant “ignorant.” I even had a dictionary reference to back up that belief. (Later I noted the bias in the very dictionary I was using then, for modern dictionaries don’t simply define it as “ignorant” and instead emphasize the hatefulness and bigotry in the word at the very beginning of the definition. I still have that dictionary at home… it was published in the 1970’s). Instead of the "N" word I could have said, “you lazy stupid b****” or something equal to it, because that is exactly the right phrase for the incident that caused me to use the “N” word, but full of anger and feeling wronged, I used the word. As a result, I almost got beat up by 13 Black girls because of it. I got lucky and talked my way out of it, probably only because one of the 13 was able to look past the hateful word and see I had in fact been wronged and she called the whole thing even. But 18-19 years later I still have a dull ache inside when I think about that word and how I… used… IT.
I firmly believe after much personal development, increased awareness (not going so far as to claim full understanding) of the challenges of growing up Black in America by reading the works of fine authors like Richard Wright (Author of Black Boy and Native Son), Malcolm X’s Autobiography, and other works, that the word has no positive value. I decided in my early 20s that even having the word in my thoughts offered nothing positive. All it does is allow the mind to classify someone into that category whether intentionally or not. Niggers and Good Blacks. There is nothing positive in thinking that way, about any race. My daughter is being raised to have no concept of that word and when she does finally learn it, hopefully only through history books, she will learn how unacceptable it is to me.
So when I read books like Jewel that use the hateful word I get caught up in that shame, guilt and pain and I have a hard time seeing past it. It took me weeks to get into the book as a result. I’m surprised I didn’t just set it aside and pick another.
Back to Jewel. If you have similar issues with the “N” word, you might have a hard time getting through much of the book to what I consider the really good parts. But if you can, you may find it’s worth it. The book didn't blow me away. But it was enjoyable and had a good message.
Jewel, a quarter-bred Native-American and White woman in Mississippi starts her life several steps behind. Her parents are not together but have a strange relationship. Her grandmother, a well-to-do White woman hates her mother for choosing her half-bred father and running off with him. He, a drunk gambler, dies early on, and her mother dies soon after. She is sent to a boarding school. She wanders in her early years only able to really able rely on herself.
We learn of all of this through a series of flashbacks as Jewel finds herself pregnant and thinks back on her life. This is her sixth pregnancy and she is in her late 30s or early 40s. As is feared by many women today in that age group, she gives birth to a child with Down Syndrome, which at the time was called, “Mongoloid Idiot.” But at that time, it was a whole new concept and nothing she had ever seen before. When the doctor diagnoses her daughter she makes it clear she hates that term and refuses to use it for her daughter. Doctors recommend she institutionalize her daughter, Brenda Kay. She refuses. I understand the backdrop to the story – no matter how it might affect her family, she will never push her child away and leave her to wander through her life with no mother like she had to in her late childhood.
A pivotal relationship in the story is between Jewel and Cathedral, a childhood friend, who had a vision the child would be Jewel’s biggest struggle. I’m not sure I fully understand the impact of the storyline. Cathedral and Jewel have a falling out that I will let the reader discover. I don’t feel it is tied in well with the entire story or maybe I missed the whole point altogether. But what rang true to me was the pain and regret Jewel feels when she slaps Cathedral across the face is the same that I felt when I used the “N” word in high school and when I remember that. Perhaps my own cloudy memories while struggling through those parts of the book made me miss a major point there. If you’ve read it and you see the part that I'm missing, let me know.
The story goes on to talk about how life changes with Brenda Kay in the family. We get insight into what a mother of a special needs child is challenged with just to get through the day. We also see how the mothering she used to give all her other children falls by the wayside, how it affects her husband and their relationship, and how it brings the family close to financial ruin.
Yet Jewel has a single-minded determination to get her daughter the help she needs and moves the family all the way to California. This part is amazing and something I could identify with so this part of the book went much faster for me. Jewel’s focus on her daughter brings prosperity to her and her husband as well as their grown kids. One part that I particularly enjoyed of her time in California was when she was corrected and told that in California in the 1960s, the “N” word was not acceptable, and Blacks were referred to as “Colored.” (The respectful term of the time). The author gave us an interesting look at how a person raised in poverty and racism might have to struggle with seeing persons of color more prosperous than she, and what is interesting in the reading is we see she isn’t really “racist” – just ignorant herself.
Jewel’s and Brenda Kay’s transformation in California is extraordinary – Brenda Kay surpasses all expectations. And while Jewel's husband Lester was broken and lost in Mississippi, he finds his pride again and sense of purpose in California.
And then, just like a man, Lester feels compelled to go back and show all the people who thought he was a failure that he had made something of himself in California. He moves Jewel and Brenda Kay (the only family still in the house at the time) back “home.” And no one in the family fits in anymore. I thought this whole move was stupid – why do we (not just men) sometimes feel we have to go back and prove anything to people long in our past? If they didn’t value us enough in our worst times in our life, are they really worth being part of our lives anyway?
The one thing I liked about the return home was Jewel’s attempt to apologize to Cathedral. Again, like the sting I feel inside when I think about that incident in high school, Jewel doesn’t really get full resolution and neither does Cathedral. Sometimes some tresspasses are just too far across the line and never stop hurting. Maybe the hurt felt by the tresspasser is there to remind us to never do it again. It’s still good to try to set things right. But oftentimes trying to do so leaves both persons unsatisfied all the same.
Eventually Jewel and her husband find the answer about where their home really should be and what "home" really is to them. And they live the rest of their lives together. The book ends on a sad note – with Jewel making preparations for where Brenda Kay will live after she is gone. And we are left with this lesson: No matter what kind of incredible super mom we may try to be, the best we can do is to love our kids with all our hearts, give them the very best opportunity at life that we can give them, put their needs before our own, and eventually we have to know that it’s a part of life that they will have their own journey in the world. We have to give the very best of our spirit to them in this life so it will sustain their need for us when we have gone into the next life. I hope and pray that I’m doing a decent job of that myself.
Sunday, March 21, 2010
8/101 #62 - Watch Borat and Bruno - Part 1
Bruno
To some it up, this movie is basically a “data dump” of a man’s brainstorming efforts at coming up with scenes that would shock and in some cases horrify people. These brainstormed scenes are loosely strewn together into a sequence to make a basic, simple plot of a man named Bruno who is trying to become famous. A very flamboyantly gay man with no ability to self-censor or concept of what is socially acceptable in public vs. best kept in the privacy of one’s bedroom.
The first 5 minutes of the movie includes scenes that I would have to describe in an exclusive upon-request-only review because this blog is public and I would have to reclassify it as adult content.
In fact, I am trying to keep this movie review as high-level as possible so it’s not vulgar, but I just warn this review may include content that some find offensive. I apologize. I don’t know how to review this movie without including some of that. Because as most replied on my Facebook post about the movie – the majority of people I know found this movie highly offensive.
So I’ll just list things that I found humorous (I have to admit some of it was hilarious). Most of this is also offensive for most. Stop reading if you are easily offended.
• The scene in the first five minutes where Bruno uses creative mechanics and a home fitness machine to self-stimulate with sufficient “torque.”
• He tries to make a s-#-x video with Rue Paul, but his assistant accidentally hooks him up with Ron Paul (the popular Libertarian from SE Texas). He tries to seduce Ron Paul, who gets really upset. I am curious as to whether Ron Paul did the movie on purpose or not – was he reaching out to a new or expanded audience?
• Bruno gets the ex-Mossad chief and the leader of Hamas in the same room, getting both to agree on one thing – Hummus is healthy (not to be confused with Hamas)…
• Bruno also tries to get the Jews and Palestinians to stop focusing on their hate for each other, and instead focus on hating Christians (only funny because of how absurd it was as a Peace strategy… but also an age-old practice – people finding they can team up together against a common enemy).
• I absolutely loved how the movie shows how crazy some parents can be trying to get their kids on TV – agreeing to let them pour acid, dress as a nazi wheelbarrowing a Jewish baby into an oven, letting them handle heavy antiquated machinery, agreeing to drop a 30 lb toddler’s weight by 10 lbs in 7 days, also agreeing to lyposuctioning the 30 pound child. All completely offensive but also what I could see the Pageant moms agreeing to just to get their kid in the limelight!
• The scene that was similar to alcoholics anonymous but instead of alcohol it would be another word for rooster that rhymes with rock.
• The flying squirrel close-up.
• When Bruno and his assistant are stuck in an S&M contraption, can’t find the key, and require assistance from hotel personnel who won’t touch them and instead kick them out of the hotel… still attached.
• Bruno’s adoption of an African baby to be like Angelina and Madonna. And naming the child OJ. And then taking him on Jerry Springer and all that ensues from that.
• Bruno’s interpretation of the military uniform and his superior’s reaction to it.
• The swinger’s party and busting through the window in his escape.
• Bruno telling Snoop Dog he (Bruno) is a chocoholic.
• Favorite part of the movie: The Straight Man Slamdown, the reaction of the crowd when the slamdown didn't go the way they expected, and certain members of the crowd who were in tears over the finale. Literally tears of sadness and grief. I had to pause the movie and use the restroom so I wouldn’t pee my pants.
To some it up, this movie is basically a “data dump” of a man’s brainstorming efforts at coming up with scenes that would shock and in some cases horrify people. These brainstormed scenes are loosely strewn together into a sequence to make a basic, simple plot of a man named Bruno who is trying to become famous. A very flamboyantly gay man with no ability to self-censor or concept of what is socially acceptable in public vs. best kept in the privacy of one’s bedroom.
The first 5 minutes of the movie includes scenes that I would have to describe in an exclusive upon-request-only review because this blog is public and I would have to reclassify it as adult content.
In fact, I am trying to keep this movie review as high-level as possible so it’s not vulgar, but I just warn this review may include content that some find offensive. I apologize. I don’t know how to review this movie without including some of that. Because as most replied on my Facebook post about the movie – the majority of people I know found this movie highly offensive.
So I’ll just list things that I found humorous (I have to admit some of it was hilarious). Most of this is also offensive for most. Stop reading if you are easily offended.
• The scene in the first five minutes where Bruno uses creative mechanics and a home fitness machine to self-stimulate with sufficient “torque.”
• He tries to make a s-#-x video with Rue Paul, but his assistant accidentally hooks him up with Ron Paul (the popular Libertarian from SE Texas). He tries to seduce Ron Paul, who gets really upset. I am curious as to whether Ron Paul did the movie on purpose or not – was he reaching out to a new or expanded audience?
• Bruno gets the ex-Mossad chief and the leader of Hamas in the same room, getting both to agree on one thing – Hummus is healthy (not to be confused with Hamas)…
• Bruno also tries to get the Jews and Palestinians to stop focusing on their hate for each other, and instead focus on hating Christians (only funny because of how absurd it was as a Peace strategy… but also an age-old practice – people finding they can team up together against a common enemy).
• I absolutely loved how the movie shows how crazy some parents can be trying to get their kids on TV – agreeing to let them pour acid, dress as a nazi wheelbarrowing a Jewish baby into an oven, letting them handle heavy antiquated machinery, agreeing to drop a 30 lb toddler’s weight by 10 lbs in 7 days, also agreeing to lyposuctioning the 30 pound child. All completely offensive but also what I could see the Pageant moms agreeing to just to get their kid in the limelight!
• The scene that was similar to alcoholics anonymous but instead of alcohol it would be another word for rooster that rhymes with rock.
• The flying squirrel close-up.
• When Bruno and his assistant are stuck in an S&M contraption, can’t find the key, and require assistance from hotel personnel who won’t touch them and instead kick them out of the hotel… still attached.
• Bruno’s adoption of an African baby to be like Angelina and Madonna. And naming the child OJ. And then taking him on Jerry Springer and all that ensues from that.
• Bruno’s interpretation of the military uniform and his superior’s reaction to it.
• The swinger’s party and busting through the window in his escape.
• Bruno telling Snoop Dog he (Bruno) is a chocoholic.
• Favorite part of the movie: The Straight Man Slamdown, the reaction of the crowd when the slamdown didn't go the way they expected, and certain members of the crowd who were in tears over the finale. Literally tears of sadness and grief. I had to pause the movie and use the restroom so I wouldn’t pee my pants.
7/101 #53 Watch 5 Academy Award Best Pictures - Part 1/5
Slumdog Millionnaire
Saturday afternoon movie for a mother of a three year old. Second day of spring. Low 50's in Texas. Those three factors alone seems like the making of fiction right there. But they were real - when I should have been doing landscaping, Mother Nature sent a cold front and gave me an extra afternoon to just relax and watch a good film.
I absolutely loved this movie. It's important to note first and foremost that if I had purchased the movie or had a rental for longer than 24 hours, I would be watching the movie again right now, Sunday morning March 21st just before 9 a.m. The movie stayed with me all day.
The previews of this movie totally set me up to believe I was going to watch an uplifting movie about an impoverished Indian boy who makes a big win on India's version of "Who Wants to Be A Millionnaire?" That IS the overarching theme, but it is a glimmer of a thread that is first woven through disturbing scenes of torture, corruption, violent and horrific torture of children who have no one to advocate on their behalfs.
JP summed it up early on - "so is this movie all about how he knew the answers to the questions?" Yes, that is exactly the plot of the movie - on the surface. But Jamal learned the answers to most of the questions because of experiences no child should ever have to even imagine much less endure. It's just a movie, on one hand. But these are truths for the slumdogs of India and many countries - it even happens in America, where we would like to believe it doesn't. It truly breaks my heart. I'm sorry to be so vague, but I don't want to ruin the movie. And I also just don't even want to describe some of it.
If it isn't clear, those are the parts of the movie I disliked. But they are necessary core content.
What I did like, without ruining it all because if you haven't seen it I hope you take the time to do so, was the love felt by one child for another child that drives his soul and his very being through adulthood. It is a true love - one of forgiveness, loyalty, protection, lack of judgment, and the kind of love that would drive someone to be completely crazy for the sake of the object of that love alone. And yet it wasn't mushy or corny at all.
I also liked that the theme of disloyalty emerges repeatedly - of selfishness, self-centered survivalism, and how it is so easy to take that road when you live in the slum. But with an odd sort of optimism and a sense of justice, in the end it is overcome.
Slumdog Millionnaire is a movie of passion, survivalism, overcoming odds, a lot of luck, and above all love and optimism. It is an amazing movie and truly deserving of the Best Picture Oscar.
Saturday afternoon movie for a mother of a three year old. Second day of spring. Low 50's in Texas. Those three factors alone seems like the making of fiction right there. But they were real - when I should have been doing landscaping, Mother Nature sent a cold front and gave me an extra afternoon to just relax and watch a good film.
I absolutely loved this movie. It's important to note first and foremost that if I had purchased the movie or had a rental for longer than 24 hours, I would be watching the movie again right now, Sunday morning March 21st just before 9 a.m. The movie stayed with me all day.
The previews of this movie totally set me up to believe I was going to watch an uplifting movie about an impoverished Indian boy who makes a big win on India's version of "Who Wants to Be A Millionnaire?" That IS the overarching theme, but it is a glimmer of a thread that is first woven through disturbing scenes of torture, corruption, violent and horrific torture of children who have no one to advocate on their behalfs.
JP summed it up early on - "so is this movie all about how he knew the answers to the questions?" Yes, that is exactly the plot of the movie - on the surface. But Jamal learned the answers to most of the questions because of experiences no child should ever have to even imagine much less endure. It's just a movie, on one hand. But these are truths for the slumdogs of India and many countries - it even happens in America, where we would like to believe it doesn't. It truly breaks my heart. I'm sorry to be so vague, but I don't want to ruin the movie. And I also just don't even want to describe some of it.
If it isn't clear, those are the parts of the movie I disliked. But they are necessary core content.
What I did like, without ruining it all because if you haven't seen it I hope you take the time to do so, was the love felt by one child for another child that drives his soul and his very being through adulthood. It is a true love - one of forgiveness, loyalty, protection, lack of judgment, and the kind of love that would drive someone to be completely crazy for the sake of the object of that love alone. And yet it wasn't mushy or corny at all.
I also liked that the theme of disloyalty emerges repeatedly - of selfishness, self-centered survivalism, and how it is so easy to take that road when you live in the slum. But with an odd sort of optimism and a sense of justice, in the end it is overcome.
Slumdog Millionnaire is a movie of passion, survivalism, overcoming odds, a lot of luck, and above all love and optimism. It is an amazing movie and truly deserving of the Best Picture Oscar.
Sunday, March 14, 2010
6/101 #47 - Scrapbook Bunny's Birthdays
Did you know that digital scrapbooking involves more than creating a photobook? All the chochkies one pastes into a scrapbook page like buttons, cute letters and sayings, ribbons, etc. are available in digital form for digital scrapbook pages that you can then order and put into a scrapbook. For example, you can create a page that looks like the one shown here.Well I didn't know all of that until AFTER I finished, ordered, paid for, and received the first of these books. Since it's my list, I'm going to accept digitally designed photobooks for this particular item. When you are so in love with the images of your child, the digital photobooks take quite a wihle to complete as well, especially when you're three years behind.
The first and easiest book to put together was from "Bunny's" third birthday, since it just passed and I'm still enjoying the memories and vicariously reliving my own childhood fantasies of princesses and fancy parties.The theme was Sleeping Beauty, and the birthday girl dressed like Aurora. We had scavenger hunts for Flora, Fauna, and Merryweather's gifts of Beauty, Song, and love's first kiss. It was mostly girls-only, but we had 2 cute princes who dressed in style too. Moms even got into playing with the jewelry making. Even big girls like to dress up! Here's a pic of Bunny on her big day:
Here is a little sample of her third birthday photobook:
The next book I did was actually her first birthday. The same site I used to create the photobooks (Shutterfly.com) already had an album of her first birthday pictures. The first birthday. Bunny's first bites of cake. Her first celebration honoring her where she actually knew what was going on around her. A duck theme with a scavenger hunt the kids really enjoyed.
My favorite memory of her first birthday is actually not from her party.
It is from her eating the very first birthday cake I ever made her - the first cake she ever had. A homemade carrot cake with cream cheese frosting dyed pink and decorated with a yellow flower on top. JP took a picture of her close up, capturing her beautiful blue eyes up close. My gorgeous daughter with her father's eyes. My heart still melts and I still catch my breath when I see this picture. And this isn't cropped for "style." This is exactly how JP took the photo. I love it.The other favorite image of her first birthday in my mind's eye is of Bunny in her birthday dress, tights, and black patent shoes. So many people tell me how much she looks like I did at her age. While I see it in a way, I haven't ever seen a child as beautiful as Bunny and can't believe she came from me. I realize this is the biased love of a mother. But it's a wonderful feeling, this complete adoration for one's child!
The last of the three books was the hardest, and made well after the other two had arrived and been flipped through several times. I took all day making it and you wouldn't believe it by looking at it.When I started searching our computer for second birthday pictures, I discovered, to my dismay, that we had about 6 photos from her actual birthday. I asked myself how that was even possible. And then I remembered that we had made an effort to get a lot of video, the "incident," and it all started to make sense.
The theme of the party was Happy Feet, since that was her favorite movie and character at the time. It also afforded some relief from the pink explosion for JP! We had games such as pin-the-beak on Happy Feet and playing with balloons, since that seemed like enough fun on its own for two year olds. And then there was the cake.
Bunny thought the cake was amazing - it was a cupcake cake from a local grocery store and I had placed little black penguins on it, looking like they were dancing like in the movie. We lit two candles for Bunny to blow out, and pushed the cake over to her. Before I could stop her, she reached out and touched the flame on the candle and burned her little fingers! It was so traumatizing for mommy and pretty much most of the guests that we forgot to take many pictures after that.
Luckily modern technology makes up for moments like this. I used the video footage to steal still images from the party and created enough pictures to make her 2nd birthday photobook. Unfortunately, the quality of the images is not so great. But it's better than nothing, and hopefully she'll appreciate my efforts to create images however I could. I love this image of her on her birthday - and you can see what I'm referring to in terms of the image quality.
All in all, I'm glad I put these on the list. I learned a few lessons: make sure to identify someone to take photos during the party so you have plenty. Also, it's super easy to put these books together - so do them sooner than later, save them online, and wait for a 40% off and free shopping coupon and you can save almost half the cost!
I was also able to see just how fast Bunny is growing up. And that sort of breaks my heart. And reminds me how much I need to cherish my time with her while she still thinks I hung the moon.
Sunday, March 7, 2010
5/101 #63 - Go to a concert
This weekend, I accomplished this goal twice over by attending concerts at the Houston Livestock Show and Rodeo. I'm going to share my favorite of the two in this blog.
On Friday, my BFF-R and I went to see Mary J. Blige perform for Black Heritage Night.
I'm a fan of Mary J's, but I would be lying if I said I knew ALL of her music or was her biggest fan of all time. However, since she released, No More Drama years ago, I have been so moved by her. When I see her perform on TV I am always taken aback - she dances, she moves, as she sings the words pour through her whole body and you can see the passion she feels. I teared up when she sang that song, just like I do whenever I see that video.
Another enjoyable part of the evening was watching these two women who were seriously shakin' their booties, groovin' to the music. My BFF-R actually captured it on her ... well I'll call it a video camera. It is one of those itty bitty video recorders that looks like a cell phone but I can't remember the brand. However, I'm going to ask her to send me the video so I can post it here. Hilarious is all I can say. Oh, and impressive!
But the most moving part of the evening was when she sang one of my two favorite songs, I'm Going Down. The music started, and I told my friend R excitedly which song it was. I'm not sure if Mary J. even got any lyrics out or not but I thought her sing, "Got time," before the audience took over singing, "since you went away boy / I ain't got no plans, no no no / And the sound of the rain / Against my window pain / is slowly, slowly driving me insane..." It was so loud and powerful - and beautiful. I loved that this song that so moves me seems to have the same affect on thousands of other people. Mary just held the microphone out and the look of pride and also still a sense of awe at the power of her music shown on her face. Thank goodness for the huge HD screens so those of us in the nosebleed section could see it, ha!
The crowd sang the whole song. I was singing so loudly and passionately that these women next to me stuck a pretend microphone under my mouth. That was pretty funny - and I imagine it might look funny to them to see this woman - this pasty white woman who is regularly told she needs some sun - to be singing the Queen of R&B Hip Hop's music with such joy, and hopefully with sufficient of soul (but I'm hoping not so much that I screeched out the sound of the crowd on R's video recording!). I can't help it, that song just moves me.
As I'm sure is often the case, she finished the night with what is probably her most famous song, the one whose lyrics I posted as my status update for Friday and my other favorite - Family Affair. How can you not get up and dance when you hear that? I play it over and over in my car - it is FUN (and I sing, "Michelle J is in the spot tonight" because, you know, it's all about me.It was a great way to leave people wanting more! And it was a great night.
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
4/101 #92 - Donate blood 4 times
Donating blood is an important thing. Did you know that fewer than 5% of folks living in the U.S. donate blood each year? Part of the reason - only 38% of the population is eligible to donate blood. I'm eligible. I should do it more.
So I gave blood yesterday. My first of four planned donations during these 1001 days. I really have no reason for the fact that I am pretty sure this is the first time I have given blood since I joined the hospital system that employs me. I've been here 4.5 years. That's pathetic. The only excuse I have is for almost two of those years I was either pregnant or nursing my baby. But what about the other 2.5? I have no excuse.
Alas - since I put this on my goal list, I had eaten breakfast yesterday, and the hospital made it so easy they were collecting blood in my building (which is not connected to the hospital), I decided yesterday was a perfect day.
I was reminded about the humilation factor that can come when you are evaluated for "eligibility." If you've never given blood, you might be interested to know that they ask if you are a man that has had sex with a man. Then they ask if you are a woman who has had sex with a man who has sex with a man. They ask you about your recent STD experiences including gonorrhea and I think syphillis.
You also have to have a blood content above a certain amount, iron levels at a certain amount, etc.
It was also interesting that I have wonderful blood pressure (112/77 and a heart rate of 59) but then the guy sort of indicated my job must be easy because my BP wasn't high. (Are you saying that because I'm pleasantly plump I can't possibly be healthy on the inside? You're lucky I was calm and relaxed or you might have been slapped, dude!).
Anyway, it's a pretty invasive process. But if I were ever to have a blood transfusion, I guess I'd be thankful they did a thorough check!
When I went to lay down on the table, I of course got the nurse who could not find my vein to save her life. She had to call someone over, and both of them dug around in my arm trying to find my vein while I winced and almost peed my pants. They did offer to stop but I told them to just find it already! (Sort of reminds me of my birthing experience when I told the doctor to quit washing his hands, use Purell, and get that baby out of me!) Eventually they poked just right and the blood started flowing.
Once they got the vein started it wasn't a big deal. A little uncomfortable, but not painful. And I had my handy blackberry so I surfed facebook and returned emails with my mad one-handed texting skillz until it was over.
Then I got a T-shirt I would likely never wear except I need a longsleeve one to go walking. And I got a keychain that has a countdown until the next time I am eligible to give blood.
Now that is a good prize. Guilt works wonders with me - just ask my mom! (Shout out to ya Mom! Just seeing if you're reading!). My friend Mila told me once that she was sure I was Catholic with all the guilt I carry around. A few months later she said to scratch Catholic - I must be Jewish. I'm not either so I'm just going on her observations, but it's the effective motivator for me for sure.
When I see the countdown zeroed out I should feel pretty guilty. This is my first time donating when I could have given at least 20 times or more by now. So 55 days from now or soon thereafter you should see a 4.2/101 post with my next experience. Or else I've lost the keychain, I imagine.
Hopefully the next donation will be pretty uneventful as well. I'll pay close attention though so I have something interesting to write about.
So I gave blood yesterday. My first of four planned donations during these 1001 days. I really have no reason for the fact that I am pretty sure this is the first time I have given blood since I joined the hospital system that employs me. I've been here 4.5 years. That's pathetic. The only excuse I have is for almost two of those years I was either pregnant or nursing my baby. But what about the other 2.5? I have no excuse.
Alas - since I put this on my goal list, I had eaten breakfast yesterday, and the hospital made it so easy they were collecting blood in my building (which is not connected to the hospital), I decided yesterday was a perfect day.
I was reminded about the humilation factor that can come when you are evaluated for "eligibility." If you've never given blood, you might be interested to know that they ask if you are a man that has had sex with a man. Then they ask if you are a woman who has had sex with a man who has sex with a man. They ask you about your recent STD experiences including gonorrhea and I think syphillis.
You also have to have a blood content above a certain amount, iron levels at a certain amount, etc.
It was also interesting that I have wonderful blood pressure (112/77 and a heart rate of 59) but then the guy sort of indicated my job must be easy because my BP wasn't high. (Are you saying that because I'm pleasantly plump I can't possibly be healthy on the inside? You're lucky I was calm and relaxed or you might have been slapped, dude!).
Anyway, it's a pretty invasive process. But if I were ever to have a blood transfusion, I guess I'd be thankful they did a thorough check!
When I went to lay down on the table, I of course got the nurse who could not find my vein to save her life. She had to call someone over, and both of them dug around in my arm trying to find my vein while I winced and almost peed my pants. They did offer to stop but I told them to just find it already! (Sort of reminds me of my birthing experience when I told the doctor to quit washing his hands, use Purell, and get that baby out of me!) Eventually they poked just right and the blood started flowing.
Once they got the vein started it wasn't a big deal. A little uncomfortable, but not painful. And I had my handy blackberry so I surfed facebook and returned emails with my mad one-handed texting skillz until it was over.
Then I got a T-shirt I would likely never wear except I need a longsleeve one to go walking. And I got a keychain that has a countdown until the next time I am eligible to give blood.
Now that is a good prize. Guilt works wonders with me - just ask my mom! (Shout out to ya Mom! Just seeing if you're reading!). My friend Mila told me once that she was sure I was Catholic with all the guilt I carry around. A few months later she said to scratch Catholic - I must be Jewish. I'm not either so I'm just going on her observations, but it's the effective motivator for me for sure.
When I see the countdown zeroed out I should feel pretty guilty. This is my first time donating when I could have given at least 20 times or more by now. So 55 days from now or soon thereafter you should see a 4.2/101 post with my next experience. Or else I've lost the keychain, I imagine.
Hopefully the next donation will be pretty uneventful as well. I'll pay close attention though so I have something interesting to write about.
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