Words are cool...

Words are cool but communication is a different story all together. I listen to people talking and sometimes wonder if they hear what they are saying. Would they speak that way if they could see how others heard them? For instance the young parents cursing through sentences then laughing when their little ones use the same language. Cussing kindergartners are frowned upon by other parents and teachers. Or those folks who try to use a vocabulary beyond their knowledge base. I'd be embarrassed to improperly use words but I guess if they don't know how wrong they are they wouldn't be embarrassed. Or the folks who use semantics to argue a point when in essence they are saying the same thing using different words. They lose credibility with me when arguing the same point.

Here is an example:

Once a customer called regarding an accounting error. He asked about a payment and I checked the computer program because I actually remembered the transaction and figured the exact information should have been posted where it was supposed to be posted.
Silly me. It wasn't.
When I couldn’t find it I commented, “That’s funny.”

The next day we received a multi-paragraph rant via fax (pre e-mail days, for you internet children) from said customer about how my response was totally inappropriate. Huh?
He continued to rail on me for commenting that it was “Hilarious” that a payment had not been posted.

Idiot. I meant funny-odd, moron, not funny-haha!

Why does this simple example of semantics still bother me? Who knows. What I do know is that I still seem to come across the Semantically Stifled much too often!

I have noticed more than ever we are communicating less and less effectively. I think most of us including me believe we have good communications skills. We are wrong though. We don't listen to ourselves speak enough. If we did we would notice how truly ineffectively we do communicate. We have become a slang and shorthand society. We are emailing, chatting and texting on a regular basis which means we are losing the skills it really takes to communicate well. I am as guilty as everyone else to a certain extent.

English is a difficult language to learn. When you incorporate slang and idioms you really have a mess on your hands! I get so frustrated by people who don’t understand what I’m talking about because they don’t know the true meaning of the words in their own language. I admit, I have been known to use words incorrectly, but not very often.

Part of the problem may be that some of us, me included, sometimes use our own lingo and expect others to understand us. Like to add –ish and –age to the end of words.

“Sure, I’ll be there around noon-ish.” Or “I SAID COME IN HERE AND PICK UP YOUR CRAP-AGE BEFORE I THROW IT AWAY!”

Unfortunately, it can be confusing to some. I have a fairly new friend from Peru. I am constantly explaining slang or rewording to exclude slang.

The use of some of the abbreviations drive me nuts. Like how did "I'll see you later" morphed into "Later on" which morphed into "Late"? What's next?

I'm okay with universal text/computer shorthand like "LOL" for "laugh out loud", "BRB" for "be right back" Or "IDK" for "I don't know" because some people just can't type and some of the phone keyboards are very tiny.

Communication is an art. I'm all for improving the arts. We have all nearly lost the art of conversation. We are usually in such a rush we don't take time to just talk. We have become an informational society. I mean when we talk it is usually to find out or give information. For instance: When is dinner?, When do you work next? Where are my keys? When will you be here? etc. The questions are usually asked and answered in as few words as possible. For example: 5 o'clock. Tomorrow. On the dresser. Later. I say we should try to communicate better. Maybe using whole sentences like: Dinner will be ready at 5. I work tomorrow morning. Your keys are on the dresser. I'll be home when the game is over, around 4.

Be proactive in this whole communication thing. Maybe step away from the keyboard more often or dialing the phone instead of texting or maybe walking or driving over to visit people more often. I'll be doing my part.

Other Emails

We have established that I am not fond of serial emails. If you send me one please cut and paste and pull off the "please send this on" crap.

I hate spam too. I have a email address for junk mail. All the places and sites that ask for my email address get that one and once a month I unsubscribe as many as I can and delete the rest.

The emails that kill me are the ones begging for a prayer for a missing child. Although I don't consider them serial I have a hard time forwarding them when we have no way of knowing if the child was found or when the email started or even when it originated. I put them in a file so I can look at them when I know I will be going further away than the store or church. I got one about three years ago and got the exact same one again about 5 months ago. I know it is the same one because the photo is in the file. My heart goes out to the parents who have the missing child and I always pray for their safe return but unless there are dates and a website link for follow up I never send them on either. I take a long look at the child and try to remember their face as I go out over the next few days. It may sound cold but at least the mini posters on the wall at WalMart post found on them when the child is located.

My favorite emails are the personal notes. The ones that keep us in touch. I love when they hold a photo and I don't even mind if they are sent to multiple people because I know they are other people my friends or family love.

I also love the yearly getting to know you quizzes. The ones with several random questions that are answered by the sender then ask you to answer and send them back. I usually get one or two a year and they give me a glimpse of what my friends were doing when they filled it out. How else do I stay in touch with people who are as busy as I am and far away. I have friends all over the country and and even a few out of the country too. If you get those from me take a moment to write back. Even if you don't want to fill it out. But remember to cut and paste and not to forward them.

Emails are a wonderful way to let people know you love them, are thinking of them and care about them. They are cheaper than US mail and don't require the sender to know where they put the envelopes. I love getting cards and letters in the mail but I get how much faster, easier and cheaper it is to jot down an email and send it.

For some keeping in touch is more along the lines of blogging or social networking. Some of my friends just found out I have a social networking page. I have had it for nearly three years but have only used it to view some photos. Most of my friends have no idea I have a blog. Make that three blogs. (Updated 7/8/11 I am a social network addict. I love staying in touch in a way that does not require I check my email every day. I love that my friends can just randomly post a thought or send a direct message just because they feel like it and I love that I can see their photos without having to upload them! Life with social networking rocks!)

Serial Emails

I despise serial emails. You know the kind nearly everyone dreads getting. They have some cheesy saying or group of sayings, cute photos, prayer chains, etc and at the end say things like send this to everyone you love, or everyone in your address book or 10 people etc within however many minutes, hours, days. They usually promise something will happen (it never does), love, luck (either good or bad) or something else equally unattainable through an email. How can sending an email bring anything like that?

I look at the address lists linked to each forwarded email and wonder how many people have sold those lists to spammers. Why don't people keep addresses private, Just a quick by cut and paste then sending BCC can save a lot of grief. Nobody in my address book will ever have to worry about me passing on their address to be copied and sold to spammers.

These emails sometimes challenge our values like "If you love God you will pass this on to everyone in your address book." My relationship with God is between He and I and He knows how I feel. I say my prayers but they are my own prayers. I don't see how sending the prayers of someone else makes me any closer to the Lord. My true friends know I have a personal relationship with God so I shouldn't have to prove it by sending emails saying I do.

Exactly how does me sending an email support service men and women? I find sending an email as significant as putting on a bumper sticker where none of the purchase proceeds go to the troops or their families. I am guilty of doing a little cut and paste of some of the more beautiful poems and photos to pass to people who have family in the service. Not as a challenge for them to send on to others. Simply because they are beautiful. My support for the troops comes with prayer and volunteer work and not is some empty gesture.

My least favorite serial emails are the ones that claim they are showing how much I am loved when I get the email that is sent to me and everyone else in the address book of the sender. I know I am loved. I don't need to have a poem or photo to remind me. Every once in a while I remind the people in my address book they are loved by sending a note. They are written individually to each person. They carry sentiments and information to each addressee. If I send a photo it is one I have taken or one I chose because it reminds me of my friend.

I love my friends enough to not waste their time or share their addresses. If it is something interesting to look at or funny or beautiful I may pass it on but I cut out the part that requests the recipient to send it on to everyone else. I send it only to the one or two friends or family it relates to. If my friends like it they will pass it on to those who will appreciate it without a prompt, challenge or promise of reward. Who needs that kind of pressure anyway?

More Mirror

The last mirror entry was about looks this one is about looking to the future.

For most of this year I have been taking care of Mom. She has a huge fear of having to live in a home like Dad did. She wants to live at her home and not in a home. She wants to stay at home and be as well as she can be. The problem is she has had years of not living well. Dad got sick and she put her life on hold for him. She took awesome care of him and didn't take even moderate care of herself.

In watching Mom I have decided I need to make some changes. Changes for her and for me.

I started this post some time ago and got side tracked. It is probably two years later and Mom is resistant to change. She likes to complain and isn't willing to change her eating habits, spending habits, exercise habits, or any habit for that matter. She waits till she absolutely has to before going to the doctor which generally makes it harder for them to treat her. She hates surgery and fears it every time she sees a doctor but if they can fix it then fix it. I wish I had the opportunity to see a doctor at will.

So I'm looking in the mirror today and I like what I see better than I have in the last decade. I've made positive changes for myself and plan to stick to them. No wallowing or complaining for me! I hope most of the problems Mom has are from lack of care and not hereditary.

Old Lady in the Mirror

Mom never looks in the mirror. She says she has no idea when it happened but when she looks in the mirror there is an old lady she does not know looking back at her. She says she doesn't see herself in that way, I didn't understand then or now even. She was about forty when she got ill and her hair went gray. Through the years since then her hair has darkened while the lines on her face have deepened. To me theses are signs that she has progressed from mother, to grandmother and even great grandmother.

When I look in the mirror I see myself. My face has lines, my hair has a hint of gray but I have lived long enough to earn each line & strand of gray hair. I'm not saying I like them and sure I wish there were fewer of both however they are mine. They are a part of me. A part of who I am.

We can't change gravity or time. Some may find they will go to the knife to fix the physical flaws they see while others would have no part of it. Some have no choice but to accept the changes. I for instance have no money for a face lift but I'm not sure I would go under the knife for vanity's sake anyway.

When people look at their reflection often what is seen is deeper than our skin and hair. The problems arise when we don't accept who we are. I think when we look in the mirror it is paramount to be happy with who we are. I know when I am having a hard day I tend to be more critical of the image I see. Depression, stress and anxiety add to the changes that come naturally also making it more difficult to accept these physical changes. My well being depends on the things I have control of and the choices I make. There are things in the world I can't change and I accept that. In short my well being depends on me. When I look in the mirror I want to recognizing the aging image. I want to know who I am beneath the image and be happy with what/who I see.

After writing this I kind of understand where Mom is coming from but when I look at her I am reminded of her mother and how wonderful she was. I know Mom and her mom both earned every line and every wrinkle. For the days, weeks, and months to come Mom and I will work on getting healthier and hopefully that will help her gain a little better perspective of the image in her mirror and learn to love the old lady in the mirror. Maybe one day she will see the beautiful woman everyone else see.

BFF

My children have great friends. Through the years they have formed friendships that are deep and lasting. Many of their friends have become an extended part of our family. In ten years I imagine my children will still have a bond with many of the friends they have today along with even more friends. I can imagine it because I am friends with people I have know for more than 35 years.

I was flipping through TV channels when I can across Paris Hilton and a show where she is trying to find a new BFF (Best Friend Forever) but why? Webster defines best as "excelling all others" and friends as "one attached to another by affection or esteem." I can't imagine trying to find a best friend through a television show. Not much reality in that reality show!

My daughters would often give each other a hard time about best friends. One would say it is impossible to have more than one best friend while the other said every friend could be a best friend. I tend to disagree with both of them. It is possible to have more than one best friend but I think it would be exhausting if every friend were a best friend.

Best friend relationships take a long time to foster but are worth every moment. The best part is once the relationship is solid the effort isn't as necessary. Trust and history are the key elements in best friends. I guess it is possible to be best friends without history or trust but I predict an epic failure. You can try but is isn't worth the effort!

Best friends are those people you don't have to see every day to understand and they get you as well. They love you and every flaw you have. They may not agree with you and at times they may not even like you but they always love you!

To all of my best friends. I love you and trust you. I am so lucky to have you in my life! Thanks!!

Funny how gratitude works

One day many years ago my bishop, from church, asked me what I was grateful for. After some thought I told him my pain. He questioned my response and I said every day it reminds me that I survived the electrocution. He understood.

Later at a gathering of friends from church my bishop led us in a game of gratitude bingo. We all got blank bingo cards that we filled in with things we are grateful for. As we went around the room naming one of the things we were grateful for we got to cross off the things that matched the card of someone else. My card was filled with nothing that matched anything of someone else.

A few years after the day we played that game I started getting a *serial email that maybe rang a little similar to this blog entry. I am grateful for my bills because they are proof I have a place to live etc. It made me feel glad that I am not the only one who is a little weird about what they are grateful for.

We have puppies. Do to some kid allergies it has been a long time since I have had my own dogs. I love dogs. I am grateful for my dogs. I had forgotten how much work was involved in taking care of dogs. It didn't take long before I figured out it is worth every moment of work for the joy and companionship the puppies bring.

My least favorite dog related job is scooping poop. For me scooping poop is like washing dishes, doing laundry, or vacuuming the job never ends. Not only is scooping poop never done there is the smell, the texture of the fresh ones, the flies it attracts and the occasional "oops I didn't see that one" that make this job the worst of my daily chores.

Like my other daily chores I find gratitude in doing this job. As I do dishes I am grateful I have food to eat. When I do laundry I am grateful I have clothes to wear and the ability to do things to make them dirty. While I vacuum I am grateful for friends and loved ones who track in dirt and kids who will often help with that chore as well. I am grateful to scoop poop twice a day because I have three little dogs who give me great joy every day.

I recently had a conversation with my sister. The subject of pets came up and she complained that her girls have three dogs and they don't pick up the poop. I do that particular chore nearly every morning and again in the evening. Because some days get busier than others days it may be cut down to only once in a day. However it always gets done because there are three of them and they poop a lot!

My sister and three of her girls live in Australia. I don't think any of them will move back to the states any time soon and being so far away I miss them. I miss out on them as well. It has been years since we have seen each other and so it has been a long time since we have had a chance to hang out and make fresh memories. Every once in a while I will be doing something that reminds me of something we did together and they will pop into my head. Not nearly as often as it would if we saw each other more often.

Luckily every day as I am scooping up poop I have the added bonus of being reminded of the conversation with my sister and the nieces who like me hate to pick up poop. Funny how gratitude works.

*Serial email - the type of email you get over and over every few days because everyone seems to think it is so awesome they send it to everyone who send it to everyone and so on.

The Mountains Saved Me

Recently my cousin came to visit. We were all headed out for a late summer dinner when she commented on how beautiful the local mountains are when you can see them through the haze. We all agreed and rattled off other ranges we all like as well.

I told her the local mountains have a special place in my heart. She asked why and I said they had saved me. She asked what I meant and I told her I'd tell her the kind of long story some day. That made her ask all the more fervently. I finally caved and told her a brief version of the story of my beautiful local mountains. Here is a bit more of the story.

My ex and I broke up shortly after my second son was born. We were in a tough place at the time. We had been house sitting when he split. A few weeks later I lost the house sitting and was temporarily living with his sister. Her daughter was watching the boys for me while I worked. One day my ex came by and took our sons while I was at work. My ex was an addict. I got my sons back but was suddenly homeless with no sitter. Not only that I had no car either. I ended up trading with a friend for a cheap car. We spent our nights sleeping here and there with friends. I even parked in the driveways of people I knew after I was sure they were in for the night and would leave early in the morning. I took my kids to work with me and did what I could to get by.

The problem with living like that is it is near impossible to save money. Every meal was eaten out or convenience type foods, laundry done in laundromats, using tons of gas and bandaging my rust bucket of a car together every few days, buying diapers and taking care of the daily needs of my sons made saving money a daunting task. I was constantly in fear someone would discover my situation and turn us in to the authorities. I was certain the authorities would take my kids away if they only knew.

I was sure my friends would eventually burn out. I felt like we were taking advantage of them. We hit a pretty good groove for weekends. I had a friend whose parents went out of town every weekend on Friday and came back Sunday night. (They were building a business about two hours north of their home.) My friend loved my need for domesticity that set in after being homeless for so long. Finally I had a place to do laundry, make home cooked meals and wash dishes. I felt like it was a good trade. I'd cook and clean while we were there. After not being able to do daily chores for so long they became simple pleasures.

Weekdays were a different story. One day on my day off I was looking for a new place to park. I began to get a little discouraged and decided to take my boys up the canyon to play in the creek. We stayed until dusk because I didn't feel safe parking alone in the canyon. As I drove down the canyon we noticed what looked like a couple of fire pits to the left of the road. I looked for a place to pull off to get a closer look and found a parking lot near a wash. There were about 10 cars and trucks parked with people camping out in the wash. We got out to look at the fire and one family invited the boys and I to sit near their fire. We joined them roasting hot dogs & marshmallows and listened as a guy nearby played his guitar. We ended up pulling out our sleeping bags and spending the night in the back of my car (the back seat folded flat.)

I got up the next morning and drove to work. It seemed natural to drive back up the canyon after work and join our new friends for the evening. I stopped at the store on the way up for a few staples. We shared our food and another fire that night and again curled up in the back of my car to sleep. This pattern of my friends house on the weekend and the canyon during the week gave me a sense of home that I hadn't felt in months.

In just a few days my kids were loved by our new found friends in the canyon. I discovered we were not the only homeless ones. There were about four other families that were living full time in the canyon. One family stayed there day and night while dad went to look for work and did day jobs. We all shared this secret that we worried outsiders would figure out, judge us and turn us in. It wasn't like a tent city you'd see in the news today. It was clean. It felt very innocent. Families would come and go often with a few of us there every night. We were just camping until we had something more permanent. On the weekend we had a soft bed, a warm shower and home cooking. Since we were camping I didn't fear someone would take my boys away.

In time our situation changed but for a few months the mountains were our safe haven. The place we went when nobody else had a place for us. The place with friends who for a time welcomed us in and felt like family. The place where we knew we could be ourselves and enjoy nature. A beautiful place that smelled woodsy and clean even in the middle of the dirt. A place of discovery with bugs, lizards, frogs, birds and an occasional snake. Somewhere cool in the evenings and warm in the day. The beautiful mountains that for a while saved me and my boys.