ROFL

"Laugh at yourself and at life. Not in the spirit of derision or whining self-pity, but as a remedy, a miracle drug, that will ease your pain, cure your depression, and help you to put in perspective that seemingly terrible defeat and worry with laughter at your predicaments, thus freeing your mind to think clearly toward the solution that is certain to come. Never take yourself too seriously."
- Mandino, Og

This evening I had a great phone conversation with one of my closest friends. It was filled with side-splitting, eye-tearing laughter. Now, of course, the laughter was directed at me so maybe it shouldn't have been so funny, but it was a balm for my soul. Stepping back and seeing life for the comedy that it is can be important every now and again. I wasn't dealing with pain or depression, but still the ability to laugh at myself came in handy just the same. I'm glad, because I'm sure there will be plenty more opportunities to use this gift in the future. ROFL = Life is good!

Pretty in Pink

Yesterday I attended a wedding and it was one of the first really nice, warm, sunny days that we have had in a long time. The occasion definitely called for a cute dress and flirty shoes, so of course my fingernails and toenails had to look their best too. So out came the array of polishes in their many shades. What to choose?

I have colors ranging from a blackish purple to the palest pink. Peacock blue, glittering gold, sparkling silver, and glistening greens are some of those included in the mix. But it felt like a pink kind of day: happy and girly. So I narrowed my choices to "Pink I Can" and "Back to the Fuschia."

Just reading the names made me chuckle. I recently played a character named Mindy in a play set in the '80's called "Five Women Wearing the Same Dress." In the beginning of the second act, she questions why makeup is always named after food, naming colors like "Cha Cha Chinaberry, Maple Melon Mist, Raspberry Whip, Tangerine Dream, Simply Strawberry..." Trisha, another character chides her, saying "Well, what else are they going to name it after, Mindy? What are they going to say, 'Bleeding Wound Red?'" When we did the play, however, not a single one of the nail polishes that we used as props had a food name. Names were things like "Santa Fe," "Rose Blush," "Back of the Fuschia" and "Color Me Crimson." Perhaps "Bleeding Wound Red" is not so farfetched these days.

In any case, I decided that "Pink I Can" was just too pale when not contrasted with tan skin and settled on the bright pink of "Back to the Fuschia." A half hour or so later, all coats considered, my look was transformed. It's funny what a little polish can do. My feet went from naked to needing to be shown off. Just looking at my flirty pink tootsies made me smile.

Since I'm usually wearing flip-flops, sandals and open-toed shoes when it's warm here and tend to go barefoot more often than not when shoes are unnecessary, my toes are always painted in the summer. In the winter, I don't think about it much. My toes are tucked inside socks, stockings, shoes or boots, so why bother? Seeing my happy feet reminds me why. I like being a girl! In winter I get all bundled up in heavy clothes and just want to be comfortable and warm. I forget how much fun bouncy skirts and flowing sundresses can be. Pink toes make me think of those days. And now that I've seen what a difference a little color can make, those sunny days are here to stay!

"I believe in manicures. I believe in overdressing. I believe in primping at leisure and wearing lipstick. I believe in pink. I believe happy girls are the prettiest girls. I believe that tomorrow is another day, and... I believe in miracles."  - Audrey Hepburn

The Nature of Connections

Tonight I'm musing about relationships. I think it's so interesting that someone that you haven't seen in years can seem closer to you than someone you see and talk to every day. It's the nature of connections, I guess. The way you can hit it off immediately with someone, yet know someone else for years and never really know what makes them tick or find that common ground.

Anyone who knows me knows that I've never met a stranger. But why is it that we feel more comfortable around some people than around others? It's not always because we know them better or have spent more time with them. Sometimes we instinctively trust someone we've just met. Why?

There are people in my life that I know I can just pick up a conversation with no matter if I haven't spoken to them in weeks or months, even years. When we talk, it's like the time and and distance between us just melts away. My friend, Laura, and her family drive from Michigan to Vero Beach, FL around Easter each year for Spring Break, and make a point to stop near St. Simons along the way so we can at least grab a meal together. Last year, she called me to tell me that they had decided not to stop for lunch, but instead planned on staying the night so I could show them my island and we could have some more time together. I was thrilled. We spent the time laughing about old friends and parties that we had and places we had been just like they had happened yesterday. And though we may have only spoken by phone or email infrequently throughout the months that intervene, if they stop again this year, we'll do the same. It's so nice to have friends (and family) like that.

Does the connection that we feel with these people come from shared memories, common experiences, similar ideologies? I really don't know. How do friends gravitate to each other? Why do some friends last forever while others come and go out of our lives like the seasons? These things fascinate me.

Facebook has made these connections even more interesting. I can now stay in touch with people I lost contact with years ago, even though we are now in various states, doing very different things with our lives. And in the same way as in real life, some of those connections are just casual acquaintances that I'd like to keep up with but don't have much contact with, while others have prompted phone calls and visits and strengthening of relationships that otherwise might have been lost.

You never know exactly what role someone will play in your life, or how long they will be a part of it, for that matter. People who enter your life briefly or unexpectedly might have a greater impact or leave a more lasting impression than others that you might have expected to do so. So when someone reaches out for your hand, grab hold and make that connection.

Depeche Mode Was Right

I have been smiling all day today for a variety of reasons. These smiles have ranged from smiles of pure, unbridled happiness, to rueful "are you kidding me?" smiles, to head-thrown back belly laughs at some utterly comical moments. At one point today I swore that my life was what happened when God turned on the TV to watch her "stories."

Without going into detail about my day, suffice it to say that God has an exquisite sense of irony and, as Depeche Mode said, "a sick sense of humor."

And this is a lesson I should have already learned. When my family first moved to Georgia and I got my job on St. Simons Island, we lived about an hour away. I would load my son into the car each morning and make the monotonous, but not overly stressful, trip to the island to drop him off at preschool not far from my office. One day, I saw a man walking his daughter to the preschool from their house across the street. I took a look around the neighborhood. It was filled with nice, modest homes with little yards and beautiful live oak trees draped with Spanish moss. I remember sighing and saying to myself, "I wish I lived here. To be on the island, in walking distance from the school, and close to work. That would be just perfect."

After my ex-husband and I divorced, I moved to a small house on the island. It was so much closer to work and to Declan's school on the north side of the island. One evening not too long after the move, I was driving down my street and waved to Scott, a friend who lives with his wife and daughter a few houses down, and realized that Scott and Parker were the dad and daughter that I had seen when I said my little prayer a few years earlier. So here I am, exactly where I said I wanted to be. In that very same little neighborhood, in walking distance from Declan's old preschool. I certainly didn't get here in the way I imagined it when I made that "wish," but I'm here just the same. See? God does listen.

So one of the morals of the day is be careful what you wish for, because you just may get it. And then what? I'm really not sure . . . but I'm still smiling!

Listening With Your Heart

Today I received a wonderful compliment from Christy Trowbridge, the artist I profiled in the current issue of Coastal Illustrated, about how I really "get" her. She told me that, for the first time, a writer put down on the page what she wanted to be said or meant to say even if it wasn't exactly what she did say when we met. I absolutely love hearing that because it is always what I hope to do. As I previously wrote, I really enjoy meeting the people that I write about and I truly enjoy sharing their stories with others. So that fact that Christy liked the article I wrote and thought I was able to convey her thoughts accurately definitely merited a big smile.

When I profile a person, I want to get to know that person. I don't want a question and answer session. I want to get an understanding of what makes them tick, what they are passionate about, and what they are trying to convey about themselves. Open dialogue is important, and while I spend plenty of time talking, what I'm really doing is listening.

Listening seems to be a skill that many people have lost. Are we too caught up in our own world to pay attention to someone else? Are we so distracted by all the other things going on around us that we can't manage to give someone else our undivided attention?

To listen to someone is to not only hear what they are saying but also to process why they are sharing that information and the words they use to do so. When people talk to you do you just hear their words or are you listening to the meaning? Having an understanding of that person's mood and feelings is just as important as hearing the words themselves.

I think conversation is a give and take situation. Not only do you have to listen attentively, you need to acknowledge that you understand what you are being told. It is important to open yourself up to relate shared feelings and experiences. It is in these ways that connections are made. Don't just listen with your ears -- you'll only hear the sounds -- listen with your heart, and you will hear the real message. Remember all good conversations start with good listening.

Guilty Pleasure

 I heard about the TV show Friday Night Lights a few years ago. I knew there had been a movie by the same name that starred Billy Bob Thornton that I had seen, but it didn't make much of an impression. I was hearing great things about the TV show, though, and I have loved Kyle Chandler (Coach Tim Taylor) since I watched him on a TV series called Homefront when I was in college. So, sometime between the second and third seasons, I decided to sit down one afternoon and catch up by watching it on Netflix.

Not only did I like the show, I was blown away by the characters, the strong storylines, and a really good cast. Much to my surprise, what I had intended to be a casual look-see while nothing better was on, turned into a few marathon sessions to catch up with life in Dillon, Texas. The characters were believable and the town had a realistic feel to it. And then there was #33...



Taylor Kitsch playing a troubled Tim Riggins is pure sex on a stick. How could I resist that? Anyway, the show quickly became my new guilty pleasure.

Sadly, I think the show is now in its last season. But I am so glad I found it. It reminded me that there could still be good drama on TV. I felt invested in these characters unlike any contestant I could root for on any reality show. And I wasn't the only one. Friday Night Lights received such critical praise and had such a strong fan base that it became known as the "little TV show that could." Much credit goes to director Peter Berg. The second season had a bit of a bizarre storyline and the season was shortened due to the strike in Hollywood. Berg let the storyline continue to play out even though there were no cameras rolling. This allowed us to return to school with the players in the fall and see what happened over their summer in real time. Brilliant.

The show has been consistently excellent. The first season's cast graduated and new members have filled their places, just as would be expected for each school year. Bad things happen to good people and there isn't always a happy ending, but I've always felt satisfied with story. If you've missed the show, it's still available on Netflix, and the series is winding to a close on TV. A little time with Coach Taylor and his team is time well spent.

So I guess what I'm saying tonight is that Friday Night Lights is my guilty pleasure and that Tim Riggins can put a smile on my face any time. "Clear minds, full hearts, CAN'T LOSE!"

The Art of the Blog

So, somewhere in here I've managed to miss a day of blogging. Since technically my Sunday blog posted at 12:00am, I guess that made it Monday, but I had every intention of blogging last night and fell asleep before I got the laptop started. In any case, it's Tuesday and I'm short a blog entry. Then I remembered, this is MY blog, and it can be about whatever I want, in whatever form I want. 365 days of smiles doesn't have to be written over 365 days.

Over the last few days I've been working with words a lot. Words themselves make me smile. I like the art of language. Words like quash, scruples, and cacophony are things I just like to say. Words are fun to play with. Crossword puzzles, Word Challenge, word finds, Scrabble, Boggle, bring 'em on! I love word games and the way they challenge your brain.

I write every day for my job, but most of that writing is directed. I have a certain message that I need to get across, a subject I must address, a person that I need to depict with words. Blogging is different. This my stream of consciousness. When I blog, I just put my hands to the keyboard and see what happens. This is just one more way that I get to play with words. Fun, fun, fun!

On Friday night, I spent time with my friend, Judith, and she reminded me of something else that makes me smile: speaking and writing in French. My French skills used to be impeccable and Judith can speak comme une Parisienne. When I studied at L'Institute de Touraine, I was so proud when my linguistics lab professor didn't believe me when I told him I was American. He praised my pronounciation skills and said he never would have thought I was from the U.S., possibly from Montreal or somewhere in Canada, but not the U.S. Ironically, some Canadian tourists who thought I was French asked me for directions and assistance, thinking I was from Tours. Only when I heard them speaking English between themselves about what they wanted to ask me did I realize that they didn't know I spoke English. I figure that's not a bad feat, fooling the French into thinking I was a Canadian and fooling the Canadians into thinking I was French. Unfortunately, without daily use, my skills have grown rusty. Quel dommage! This is something I plan to remedy and practice more often, even if it's just with Judith.

One of the first blogs I ever subscribed to, and to this day one of my favorites, is "French Word-A-Day" by Kristin Espinasse. (http://french-word-a-day.typepad.com/motdujour/) Espinasse has published a book from that blog called Words in a French Life. She is my blog hero. She ties French vocabulary and idioms into short stories about her daily life with her children and French husband and family. She also includes beautiful photography. Kristin is witty, the blog is fun to read and educational too. Her "daily" blog has even morphed into a "thrice-weekly" blog. Kristin has found the way to do what I aspire to: combine a love of words (both English and French) with good writing to create something interesting and marketable. That, my friends, is the art of the blog.