Carrying the Milestones...

It's the eve of a milestone that's become far too familiar to me. The passing of a loved one.

As I think back, I was 20 on that first anniversary after losing my Dad, 39, after losing my Mom, and now 46, one year since losing my oldest brother Harry. I've experienced a lot of loss in my life, as many of us do, parents, grandparents, a niece, a brother, and even more recently my uncle. Though never easy, I've always endeavored to continue moving forward, remembering the good, as well as the not so good, and although it may sound trite, the passage of time does lessen the ache. What makes this more difficult, is that the months of December and January are when I lost three of the most important people in my life. It certainly has made celebrating the holidays... different. 

In most cases, I'm a sort of modern "Pollyanna" (look it up if you don't know what that is), and that has helped push through any melancholy that rears it head each year. This year is no different, despite it being a tough year all around. I have two wonderful great-nieces, Brielle and Sofia, and an adorable great-nephew, Lucas who make me smile just typing their names. Wonderful friends and family, both of the two and four-legged variety that fill my life with love and laughter. 

So with this milestone, I wanted to share how I remembered my big brother a year ago:

For those of you I haven’t met, I’m Harry’s youngest sister Leah. When I was born, he and Jeanie were juniors in high school. Between the age gap, different last names and distance, ours was never a traditional brother – sister relationship, but when he convinced me to move to San Diego 10 years ago, we were given an opportunity to build one. I have learned that in order to be good, some things have to take time. In fact, the best things need to be fostered and fermented. That’s true of both good wine and good relationships which were important to Harry.

You were a good brother, but a better person. You made other people better, even if you weren’t aware of it. Harry was always a unique individual. Unfortunately, there were numerous times that his uniqueness wasn’t fully appreciated, even by those closest to him. Harry was strong willed, stubborn, and hard headed. He would tell you what you should do, even if you didn’t ask, and kick your ass when you needed it. Under that sometimes gruff and even grumpy exterior was an imperfect heart of gold. Harry was generous to a fault, and if you were in need he’d find a way to help, to make sure you got what you needed. If he couldn’t do it himself he usually knew who could, or he knew somebody who knew somebody that could. You could always count on Harry to not leave you empty-handed. One thing we shared was a sense of humor; it could be dry and sarcastic, teasing or even silly. The silly was something I only discovered more recently, but he and I developed this ritual where if either of us were on a business or vacation trip we’d hunt for the most ridiculous tchotchke to give to the other. Crazy bottle openers, stone pets, shell sculptures, key chains, magnets, golf balls, and sombreros, the tackier the better. We’d both get so excited to have the other open whatever this “treasure” was, and I’m sure Jeanie thought we were crazy.

What saddens me most as I stand here is that Jeanie, Brian, Kate, Ali (and even myself) won’t have you here physically guiding, encouraging, and influencing us every day, however as many of your friends have said, it’s more than likely you will be pushing and pulling us all along from above.
So big brother, I’m proud of all that you accomplished.
I’m proud of you for being you, even if you could be difficult.
I’m proud to be your sister.
I’m going to miss you and your smirk terribly.
We all are.
Rest in peace Harry.
I love you.

It's a year later big brother and I still miss your smirk, and even your teasing.

Me, Harry & Ronni

Yes, I'm going to get political... well sort of

I generally skirt the edges of getting involved in political conversations, not because I don't have my own opinions, but mostly because people can really get crazy about it, and I have enough crazy in my life. Many may find this interesting since I majored in political science, but to me, the beauty of a liberal arts education is that is teaches you to think and view ideas from many different perspectives. I guess for me it's not a case of being pigeon-holed a Republican, Democrat or Independent, but of thinking about the issues that matter the most to me in a way that is meaningful.

Let me see if I can explain this...

So a few nights ago I received a telephone survey (automated, jeez). A female, older sounding southern voice spoke at me on the phone asking a series of questions for about seven minutes, my answers were relegated to utilizing the keypad on my phone. Out of all the questions, the one that struck me was if I considered myself a "Conservative," a "Moderate," or a "Liberal". For me it's not that simple. I mean I might dress conservatively, spend money moderately and use foul language liberally (as an example). What do those words actually mean? Sure, there's a definition in the dictionary (see the links above) for each, but they can each be used in and out of the political arena with different context and meaning. So why do political folks try and place us in these separate silos? Deep down I think even if you align yourself with conservatives, there are some areas of your life where you may exhibit moderate or (OMG), liberal behavior.  The same could be said for moderates and liberals. To put it in a political way, it really is about the issues for me. I'm liberal about same-sex marriage, conservative about immigration and moderate about healthcare and education. Unfortunately during election time that makes decision making difficult for me. There isn't a candidate for me that meets my needs and wants on every level, and I think that I'm not alone here.

There's my two cents...

No, I didn't forget you, just haven't had the time to sort out my thoughts...

Wow, it's been several weeks since I've written, but the "Team Challenge" kept me crazed, I barely had enough time to shower and get to bed. Then it was off to NY for work, and then a long weekend with my best friend and her family. Let's take a look back...

The Beginning
Okay, so it was a 6 week program, but because I needed to be in NY the 6th week, I made special arrangements to have my final weigh-in on the Sunday before I left. Those of you who know me, know how competitive I am and although I certainly participated in it to jump start my weight-loss and get healthy, it was inevitable that my competitive nature would rear it's ugly head.

The Middle
For 5 weeks, I worked out 6 days a week, including the 2 hours a week the team worked out together, and I really watched what I ate, and made healthier choices. I dedicated myself to the challenge and was rewarded each week with the scale inching downward. Hours of cardio (treadmill, elliptical, stair stepper, bike), weight training, swimming laps, Zumba, Kickboxing, RepReebok, and even a 5 mile walk with the dog (thanks Patricia). Each week I'd look at the teams board and was annoyed that although our team was in the hunt, we never placed 1st for an individual week. It spurred me to push myself and my body, so that at the end of week 5, I had lost a total of 13.5 lbs. I left for my business trip feeling good about my efforts, and hoped that my teammates would bust it out the last week without me.

The End
In NY I made an effort to watch my portions as this is a life style change, NOT just a contest... but it's incredibly difficult. Thank goodness we walked to and from the hotel to the office, and to lunch and dinners out. When I returned home, I was back at the gym on Monday.... I didn't get any additional results from the challenge, so I went right to the board when I came in, and imagine my surprise when I saw our team results... -22.2 pounds, I'll let you figure out why I was a little incensed and disappointed. I felt like I was the only one who took the challenge seriously, and all week I've had to keep reminding myself the reasons why I participated are far more important than my competitiveness.

The Moral
Not that this is a fable, but I have come to some conclusions over the last 7 weeks. Number 1 (and most important) I used the "Team Challenge" as a jump start to becoming healthy. Eating less as well as exercise is now a part of my everyday life, not only to win a contest. Number 2: I possess a tremendous amount of willpower and mental "muscle" which I'm not sure I ever realized I had. Finally, number 3: I love having clothes that are loose and the prospect of buying new ones in a smaller size will keep me going!

TTFN

It looks so much easier on TV...

I am a constant work in progress. Mind, body and soul.

Let's focus on the body, since it's my obsession currently.  I've been participating in my YMCA's "Biggest Loser", aka "Team Challenge" which is a 6 week competition where each team works with a trainer twice a week, and then the rest is on your own. I'm keeping a food and exercise diary, and weigh ins are each Monday. The challenge runs through May 21st, which is, by no coincidence one week before I go on vacation to Aruba to celebrate my friend Wendy's 40th birthday.

I'm a goal oriented person to begin with, so I was excited to start the program. The initial meeting with everyone included individuals who had participated before, as well as newcomers of various shapes and sizes. Like the show on NBC, the team that has lost the largest percentage of body weight in the six week wins.

My team is cool, a single Mom, a married Mom, and me. Our trainer, Fred, is awesome, I knew him from when I worked there, and he is the perfect drill Sergeant, I mean trainer, a perfect blend of mad scientist, bully and athlete. Fred told us the first night, that since he only has 2 days with us, it's all about the cardio, so, taking that to heart, I've been logging hours on the treadmill, the bike, elliptical trainer, in Zumba classes, and in the pool 6 days a week. I've been posting my activities on my Facebook status, and I love the comments from my friends, so varied, from "That's awesome, you go girl." to "Just reading this makes me want to take a nap." It gets results... in the first 10 days I lost 4.2 lbs, which is amazing, but as I think back to those times I've tuned into watch "The Biggest Loser", I am blown away at the thought of posting a double-digit week loss. Then again, I don't have the freedom to work out for 6 hours a day, or have a staff of massage and physical therapists at my disposal. I have a full time job, a dog and 2 cats who need my attention as well. When I get home each night, I'm exhausted, mentally and physically and can't imagine if I had kids or a husband to deal with as well.

I have quite a few friends and family currently who are either triathletes, marathoners, or half marathoners, or crazy about fitness in general (Sarah and Mike M). Each of them inspires me in one way or another, and this week, my super athlete friend Kellie took the time out of her crazy work/life/sport balance to drop me a note about how I'm inspiring her. I was touched BEYOND belief that a tremendously fit woman, training for Ultraman Canada found my toe dip back into fitness as inspiring. It makes me feel proud of my accomplishment so far, and gives me the mental, and hopefully my 42 year old body has the physical strength to take me to the end of the competition and beyond.

Let me leave you with this... what inspires you?

Shake, Rattle and Roll

So, it's almost a week ago that we San Diegans felt the Easter Sunday 7.2 earthquake, granted the epicenter was in Baja Mexico, but large enough to be felt as far North as Santa Barbara, and out to Arizona. Now, in the almost seven years I've lived in SoCal, I've experienced quite a few earthquakes, though certainly not of that magnitude. I felt my first significant one my first year living here, and probably a half dozen since, but this one was different.

So the earthquake itself was more of a wave (45 sec) rather than the shaking people think. We had just sat down to dinner, and I looked across the dining room table to my niece Ali, as it felt a bit like being out in the ocean in a rowboat. We realized what it was at once, spoke it outloud, looked up and saw the dining room chandelier swinging back and forth, and not one of us thought about moving to a safer spot, until my other niece Kate spoke up. Instead, Ali logged on to the USGS site, and my brother Harry checked his iPhone for the seismic activity. By that point the initial 45 seconds were over, but it left me with a sort of dizzy, vertigo-like feeling. It's been a wild week, I didn't sleep much all week, in part I believe because I was scared of aftershocks, so in some (very, very) small way I emphasize with the victims of Haiti and Chile, although the damages here were minor in comparison because of the proximity and stricter engineering standards.

For those of you who like science, or are just curious, take a look at the USGS site, from the 7.2 on Sunday, there have been over 200 aftershocks, and on the map it looks a bit like a swarm of locusts. Hence the lack of sleep. Of the aftershocks, I've felt (that I realize) possibly 6-7 of them, the worst being the ones in my office building, which due to engineering sits on a series of rollers, so once the earthquake stops, the building continues to rock for quite awhile, sometimes the 18th floor has its drawbacks. Nausea anyone? My friend Ofelia, who experienced her first earthquake in our office, suggested that air sick bags should be distributed when they hire you.... ha!

What is interesting is that my entire office was "a buzz" all week, each person talking about where they were, if they felt it, and how it felt. There was also a permeable "anticipation," as though we were all waiting for another "big one," and beyond that, the most amusing thing is how we have all become the reporters in our own stories. Feel the earthquake, "Tweet" it or put the latest into your FB status. Forgetting of course, that we should be ducking for cover... I'm certainly guilty of that myself.

I'll leave you with this...now, almost a week later, I remember that earlier that day at the dog park there were no birds anywhere, odd as usually they are flying back and forth over the park teasing and taunting canines. I commented to another fellow dog owner, but really thought nothing of it. Then wham, later that afternoon, 7.2. So people, take note, it's birds, not dogs and cats that you should look to for more accurate earthquake detection.

Your "shaky" reporter...

Alter your attitude and you can alter your life

Alter your attitude and you can alter your life...what does that mean to you, to me? Read on...

For the longest time, this has been my mantra, whether in my personal or professional life. It's allowed me to conquer those times I wanted to crawl into a corner and cry, and persevere when I thought I couldn't. Now it may sound as though my life has been dismal, but I assure you, it hasn't, but like anyone I've had my share of disasters, tragedies, and stumbling blocks. If you know me, you probably have an idea of what I'm talking about, but if you don't well, it's a long and convoluted story for another time.

Thanks to my parents, who unfortunately are no longer with us, I've always had the ability to visualize what I wanted an outcome to be in my life, and my parents encouraged me to focus on it until it became reality. Sound familiar? Over the years it's been called many things... most recently "The Secret". Had I only put my "normal" everyday MO into a book, I'd surely be sitting on a pile of money with minions doing my bidding. However, I had no concept of what I was doing, I just did it. Whether it was getting into to boarding school, college or graduate school, getting a job I wanted, getting the home I wanted --- you get the idea, I'd draw it out on a piece of paper, and read it out loud every morning when I woke up, and every night before I went to bed. It really works, try it, commit to it, and you will see.

Having a positive attitude is something I learned by example, and that is something I clearly got from my mother. I'm always struck by people who have come in and out of my life over the years and how many people look at the negative and focus on it until it becomes part of their everyday lives. From the beginning to the end of my mother's battle with lung cancer she was incredibly positive, when many give up. Certainly she had her days, but she'd give herself a momentary "pity party" and gird herself for the next battle, whether that was surgeries, treatments, doctor visits, etc. Her positivity (not even sure if this is a real word) helped me stay positive in one of the most difficult times of my life. This positivity allowed me to focus at work, when I was at work, and on her and helping my brother and sister-in-law take care of her. Now were there days I'd go home and cry in the shower or cry myself to sleep, you bet, but I focused on the positive instead on the negative, and enjoyed the time I spent with her.

My point to this entry (if you hadn't already figured it out) is to impress upon you the importance of a positive attitude, both in life and in yourself, because it goes a long way. So whether it's a difficult person or a situation, focus on the positive, and you will see a change. It will help you be a better friend, spouse, colleague, and most importantly, person. Again, try it, and commit to it.

Is there such a thing as elevator etiquette?

Well, if there isn't there definitely should be. 

Ponder this, where you work, do men wait for women to enter or exit the elevator before they do? I am happy to report that I could safely say 85% of the time the men in my building do. I think more from my own company, but it's a pretty nice thing either way. That's the good...


The Bad? 
First, why do people rush to enter the elevator before those on it get off? This isn't the Tokyo subway system where you just push in as a herd. And then if that doesn't annoy you, ask yourself why people insist on packing into an elevator as if it's a clown car? I mean people, there are 6 elevators, maybe 5 if one is being used for construction on the upper floors. Is it that necessary for you to push into an already crowded elevator to go downstairs at that exact moment? Yes, I'm only 5'3, but does that mean people can't see you and step on you? The concept of personal space...gone, I'm not always sure where I stop, and where someone else begins. When you work on the 18th floor, ascending or descending becomes equivalent to taking the "Local" bus, versus the "Express". Today, several people made me chuckle on the way down to go to lunch, as the door opened and they saw the packed house, uttered "Oh, thanks," as if those in the elevator actually had a choice of where the elevator stopped...


Now the ugly...
Picture in your mind, a day you are running late after a doctor's appointment, you enter the elevator, and three other women who work together for the same company after the mid-morning coffee run to Starbucks. Buttons are pushed for 2 floors (other than my own). Smooth ride up to the first stop, conversation is in mid stream, woman #1 begins to exit the elevator, but stops, holds her hand on the door and continues the conversation.... WTF? Who does that? I clear my throat, and both women continue to chat, finally woman #2 notices me (really?) and says "we'll catch up later," and the door closes. No sheepish look, definitely no apology, so I'll say it again... WTF?


So I guess I'm advocating that we need an etiquette book for elevators. Feel free to come up with a title.