helping haiti

About a week ago a friend threw out the idea of putting on a benefit for the Haiti people following the earthquake. In my mind, I thought, a cute little event downtown, with a few snacks, a couple glass of wine and a few friends touched by a horrible event. What this turned into was a successful benefit to fund a local charity (Project CURE) who is one of the larget suppliers of medical supplies and aid for devastated countries. Hundreds of people turned out. Dozens of local companies donated gifts, money and time for this great cause. Local artists and musicians showed up in force to give their talents. And a handful of Denver people that care made something really big happen. This is the voice of care.



Special Thanks to Maha and Hans who put this all together ~
Pho 95, Yvonne Chang & Jared Rankin, Pablo's coffee, and Barefoot Wine for providing food and drink. TOSA for the wonderful space. Yelp for their support.
Duo, Root Down, Le Central and Jonesy's for committing to a helping haiti night where a percentage of their proceeds will benefit this event and Project CURE.
Artists, Musicians, Poets and Photographers, Ronnie Ruiz (http://www.ronnieruizblog.com/), Robin Munroe, Ferreira Brothers, Panama Soweto, DJ AshishB, Time who donated their time and talents for the constant stimulating entertainment.
Author Caryn West, and her husband Blake, "The Human Rights of Children". http://www.thetroublewiththealphabet.com/
Our powerful and informed speakers, Dr. Jackson (the Founder of Project CURE), Lutheran Family Services, Dr. Benz (US Geological Survey)
Local business owners and photographers who donated gifts for the raffle, Suzy Swet/Heavenly Dog, Andee Hoos/MOP Factory, Free Soul Yoga, The Denver Nuggets, Jay Burleson, Pablo's
All the volunteers who helped make this possible, Grey, Mike, Jay, Saunders, Maddi, Katie, Gaurav, Adam, Simone, Ian and of course, those I have unintentionally left out.
And for everyone who showed up - Thank you for caring! Thank you for sharing love.

http://www.denverpost.com/entertainment/ci_14232900

Relationship Collateral

In changing jobs and moving, I have realized that there is always something that has to be given up to bring on the new and the good.

My new house is spacious and so much more comfortable. Yet, I miss my old neighborhood - the convenience of my workout regimen. Don't get me wrong, I love downtown but I love Wash Park the same. One brilliant exchange for another.

Today the same concept occurred to me regarding any relationship - you have to give up something to get something preferred in that moment.

Relationship Collateral

I quickly remembered a relationship which ended badly...and when I say badly, I mean, I went to this boyfriend's house only to be blocked at the door by a housemate who would not let me in because there was another woman in the house...mind you a house partially furnished by me. Bad.
I left that day happy that I knew the truth - confused because I had done nothing wrong, feeling used because my favorite lighting fixture was still hanging above a bed I bought, and stewing because there is no fury as a woman scorned. I will leave this particular piece of history which quickly followed this day, and the actions that followed, with the knowledge that I am now a better person, I leave people dirty doing's to their own personal karma, and yet I regret nothing about my retribution excepting the fact that I wish I could actually witnessed the look on this boyfriends face when he found out how I paid his infidelity back.
Today I experience a different relationship collateral - the concept of separating personal items, paying off debts incurred as a team, monetary (inclusive of but not limited to financial) debt. These things which are indicators of a more mature relationship.
But, nothing ever really changes.
Collateral damage is damage that is unintended or incidental to the intended outcome. At least one source claims that the term "collateral damage" originated as a euphemism during the Vietnam War and can refer to friendly fire, or the killing of non-combatants and the destruction of their property. (Wikipedia)
Funny how terms like this encompass an entire society and become a catch phrase based on behaviors which have become accepted on a day to day basis. In government terms, collateral damage is a part of war...in the terrorizing and killing of enemy countries, sometimes a few innocents must die, or their homes must burn down. A small sacrifice for the bigger picture.
In relationships, infidelity and lying to protect ones self in the light of maintaining a "relationship" is par for the course (no Tiger Woods pun intended). Sometimes sacrifice must be made to ensure one's personal gratification ...outside of commitments made.

In any case, collateral damage, whether a gifted lamp, or a broken soul, or a dead civilian is an indicator of how we fail each other and then desensitize ourselves to the actual value of each individuals gift to the world whether it be in purchase, life, or soul.

My morning commute

Every day as I am driving my kids to school I try to take the time to think about my day, make lists, organize myself. During these times I have a very short time to prioritize because simultaneously I am noticing the world around me. I take in the people walking the streets of Denver. I watch the small children walk and bike to school. I look at all the homes for sale in the neighborhood and the snow still left on the ground.
This morning as I cruised over 23rd Avenue behind St. Josephs hospital and the Not-So-Safeway on Park Ave, I noticed a man on his porch. This man was simply standing on his porch with his hood pulled up watching the traffic pass by and the sun come over the buildings to our south. I thought, people in my neighborhood are just like me; chilling - checking out their neighbors, starting their sunshiny day.
Then I noticed in his right hand was a 24 ounce can of Schlitz, and in his left hand a cigarette.
Not so much like I kick off my morning, but "Good morning Denver".

Notes of Gratitude

As I prepare for my day trip to Phoenix I am beaming with anticipation and excitement. The process with the airline I am joining has been an extensive three month process.

I have been thinking about how long and difficult this past year has been - little to no work, a tumultuous economy and social environment - the core things that keep people on edge. I have finally lived long enough to one day discuss the recession of 2009.
Throughout this time, I have reminded myself of how blessed I am and relied on those strengths along with the knowledge of a better time to come, to get through the difficult times. That and my Nana's voice, "hang in there", "things will not always be this hard", "you are strong", "beauty comes from within" and "there is enough love for everyone". Just seeing her face and hearing her voice soothed me every day I could no longer stand up on my own.
These words and my friend Margeau's reminders of gratitude which nudged me every day to stay strong. Thank you my friend.
These blessings inspired me to write myself a Note of Gratitude.
I am grateful for healthy children.
I am grateful for the insight to know everything is temporary; the good, the bad, the evil, and the bounty. The only thing guaranteed is death. This hard time had to come to an end, and I stuck it out. What did I conquer? Nothing. But my mind is free and I have not brought myself down with despair.
I am grateful for presenting to my kids everyday that life is what you make it, so make it the best life ever.
I am grateful I did not waver in spirit in front of them.
I am grateful for my new job. I am grateful for a genuine opportunity. I am grateful for the knowledge that tomorrow this job may not be everything I thought, but I am still blessed to work.
I am grateful for my friends around me who kept me lifted - whether they know it or not. I am grateful for the spirit of God in my life, even when I didn't know it.
I am grateful for the sun, even when hiding behind a cloud on the coldest dreariest day ever - I know you are there and you warm me.
I am grateful I bring a smile to someones face everyday. And if it was YOU today - I am grateful for you in my life because of this.
I am grateful for everyday that led up to this day and for everyday I get to experience after today.
I am grateful my body has not failed me.
I am grateful I was able to write when I could not speak.
and sometimes I am just grateful for Edie ...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FEhpnV8mCGE&NR=1

Airline Humor

This letter from an upset airline passenger, which I copied and kept as a reminder of one of the reasons I loved my job as a flight attendant so much, is still funny - 5 years later. I have scanned and posted the original document (following my text) so you can see this was a real letter, with drawings and diagrams from a real customer on an actual flight.

If you notice the date and the time stamp on the first document - this is part of the humor (unfortunately): the customer wrote this on Dec 21, 2004 (obviously traveling for the holidays), yet this was not stamped into customer care until Apr 13, 2005...4 months later.

Flight #888 SAN/IAH

"Dear Continental Airlines,

I am disgusted as I write this note to you about the miserable experience I am having sitting in seat 29E on one of your aircrafts. As you may know, this seat is situated directly across from the lavatory, so close that I can reach out my left arm and touch the door. All my senses are being tortured simultaneously. Its difficult to say what the worst part about sitting in 29E really is? Is it the stentch of the sanitation fluid that is blown all over my body every 60 seconds when the door opens? Is it the whoosh of the constant flushing? or is it the passengers asses that seem to fit into my personal space like a pornographic jig-saw puzzel. I constructed a stink-shield by shoving one end of a blanket into the overhead compartment - while effective in blocking at least some of the smell, and offering a small bit of privacy, the ass-on-my-body factor has increased, as without my evil glare, passengers feel free to lean up against what they think is some kind of blanketed wall. The next ass that touches my shoulder will be the last! I am picturing a board room full of executives giving props to the young promising engineer that figured out how to squeeze an additional row of seats onto this plane by putting them next to the lav.

I would like to flush his head into the toilet that I am close enough to touch and taste from my seat.

Putting a seat here was a very bad idea. I just heard a man groan in there! This sucks!

[depiction of man's butt in my face]

Worse yet, is I've paid over $400.00 for the [indecipherable word] of sitting in this seat! Does your company give refunds? I'd like to go back to where I came from and start over. Seat 29E could only be worse if it was located inside the bathroom. I wonder if my clothing will retain the sanitizing odor...what about my hair! I feel like I'm bathing in a toilet bowl of blue liquid, and there is no man in a little boat to save me. I am filled with a deep hatred for your plane designer and a general dis-ease that may last for hours.

We are finally descending, and soon I will be able to tear down the stink-shield, but the scars will remain.

I suggest that you initiate immediate removal of this seat from all of your crafts. Just remove it, and leave the smouldering brown hole empty, a good place for sturdy/ non-absorbing luggage maybe, but not human cargo."

blog disclaimer: I never worked for Continental. I do not have any connection to this airline, nor do I have anything against this airline.

Teens and the probability of a heart attack

The morning drive to school.

Early morning.

Lights on.

Me and the Girl.

My teenage girl.

Madelene is trying out for the high school soccer team. She has played most of her life, so this is no surprise. We talked about the physical examination which is required, and in the discussion about health - family health history came up.

I told Maddi how heart disease and cancer runs in our family. I told her of my fear of having a heart attack and she seemed surprised (due to my tender age of 41). But, realistically speaking, my natural grandfather's, my uncle's and my cousin either died in their 40's of a heart attack, or had some heart issue by the time they were 40 years old. This is not uncommon in my family. Maddi reminded me that these were the men in the family, so probability remains low that I will die of a heart attack. Maybe, but statistics show more women dying of heart disease - and heart issues going unnoticed and untreated because of these same theories.

I told her I didn't think I would die anytime soon, but I might have a little attack, quickly followed by a come to Jesus - which sparked an entire new conversation on what a, "come to Jesus" was. I laughed so hard. Then I got serious again - I have had a lot of these moments lately. I don't know if it is the new year, or my position in life, or pre-menopause - I can't tell you what is causing these feelings for life to rise up lately. But they are overwhelming and necessary. I looked at her with all the love in my heart and told her - I was not planning on dying, but if I did, I wanted her to know how she has changed my life. That she is special and beautiful and smart and the whole world will laugh around her because of the joy she brings to a room. I told her I am lucky to be her mom and if I never got the opportunity to tell her how special she was again (I could get hit by a car today), I wanted her to know for the rest of her life, she changed my life.

She told me to pick her up at 4:30.

I love teenagers.

Dogs Vs Kids

I read a thread on yelp.com recently about people bringing their kids into dog parks. Dog owners worry that small children may get knocked down by excitable dogs or even worse. I remember my brother being chased and bitten by a german shepard when we were school age.

The combination of strangers, dogs, anxiety and animal instinct doesn't always end well.

This is an interesting topic because dog owners have unwritten rules and kid owners have unwritten rules.

As a parent, I personally do not like to see small children in a dog park - outside of the general safety issues with strange dogs whose behavior is unknown possibly attacking other dogs or small children, on the most simple level, dogs get excited and knock children down, not realizing their size or strength, or the lack of balance a small child has. When I see a toddler rambling about in a small area with dogs running and playing, and being dogs, it makes me uncomfortable. Especially when the small child who barely balances himself is holding a piece of food. It's like a piece of bait.


Dog owners believe their dogs are the best dogs ever. Most parents think their kids are the best children ever. Rarely do others (outside your family) believe the same. And even the best dogs and the best kids have bad days. As cute as your dog is to you - as sweet as it is when he jumps on people to give them a big, slobbery kiss, everyone is not as appreciative of Rover's penchant for scratching his claws on your soft skin, or rubbing his shedding coat on your $400 suit - everyone is simply not a dog lover.


I don't bring my kids to your personal space and let them jump on your lap, and lick you and shed on you or scratch you with their unkempt claws. So, if I am jogging in the park or sitting under a tree trying to eat my lunch, I don't want your dog jumping on me, sniffing me, whatever other cute trick he's doing. I'm not interested. Personal space people. Respect it.

I'm not saying kids and dogs can't meet in some safe zone for all parties involved, but it seems reasonable that if specific parks had to be constructed because people need to separate children and dogs (dogs are not allowed on kid parks, on school lots, any place where children's safety and health might be compromised) respect that. If dog owners can keep their pets off your kids playground, keep your kids off the dog owners playground.

PS: this commentary is about strange dog/ child relationships. How you raise your own child and your own dog under the same roof is your business. :)

Interruption

Have you ever noticed in speaking with some people they constantly interrupt you mid sentence or mid thought to tell you why you are wrong?
Even in debate (or argument), one party gets to give their point of view, then the other party gets to respond...uninterrupted.
Interrupting someone mid sentence is a simple show of immaturity and lack of respect for the speaker. Not only can you not wait your turn to speak, but you are assuming you know what they are going to say before they say it and in anticipating your interpretation of their idea, are in fact stating you don't even respect their need to think. Not only is your impatience leading your action, but in NOT listening to what your counterpart is saying, you are stating, "I can't wait my turn and what I have to say is more important than what you think or feel."

If I may suggest to everyone - wait your friggin' turn.

The power of making a child happy

I am not a scientist.
I am never going to win an award for mathematical prowess.
My strengths lie in creative thought, writing and spreading positivity.
My smile has made me lots of money, and not that I'm proud of that, I simply acknowledge we each have our strengths and our weaknesses.
I am a soccer mom. I am a cheerleader of life. My kids realize (my teenager at least) that Mommy is not going to help get that A in Calculus, or Chemistry, but I can help with all writing projects, creative endeavors and language studies. I will scream the loudest on the sidelines and cut orange slices at halftime. I will drive the entire team from game to game and host pre and post celebratory parties.
This does not let me off the hook for homework assistance. My children still have expectations that I will help them, even with the knowledge I may not give them the help they need.
This came up this week, when my 8 year old needed help with his science project. I knew when he mentioned the idea of building a miniature tornado that this was way out of my realm of expertise. A friend gave me some insight on how to get started and told me what the project would look like, but somehow I couldn't visualize it. Weeks went by, and I hoped Saunders would make another choice, something easier for Mommy to help with. He didn't.
So, I helped with the creative process - what the written project would look like, formulating a trivia portion with questions and answers he could come up with (for the class) about tornado's. Fun stuff that would be a hit during the presentation. But, I could not get the actual, physical concept of a tornado in my head to help him build this project.
So, I enlisted the aid of another friend, who researched it on the Internet and helped build this project with Saunders. Eventually the project came together, and I even de-beaded a necklace, cut glitter and found shiny particles to form the debris within the project.
The day came to present, and I was nervous for my kid. I hoped it worked out. I panicked and contemplated all day how he would fare in the science fair. What if the tornado didn't work? It was painstaking to think about my son's possible failure because of my ineptness in academia, and therefore, my failure as a "good" parent.
As I drove through the "kiss-&-go" in the afternoon, I looked for any signs of disappointment on his face as he walked to the car - poster board in one hand, backpack on, and empty tornado in the other hand. He opened the car door and threw the project in the back seat. I smiled, "Hey Buddy."
"Hi Mom," he quickly answered. "Today was the best Friday ever."
I smiled, "Wow, really? Why?"
He went on to tell me how his project was one of the best projects in his classroom; how everyone clapped loudly when his presentation was over (far louder to his ears than in support of anyone else's presentation); how he had a line of people to waiting to check his tornado out, even when they were supposed to be doing other activities, and how the glittery debris made the tornado even more spectacular than when we practiced it at home. He said there was one presentation he thought was better, but they definitely had the best two.
His excitement and happiness at his success showed me how little it takes to make a kid happy. Even at my worst, just giving what I could was powerful, and reminded me to take the time to show my kid that his success is important to me.

Crazy

I overheard a conversation the other day between a young guy and a young girl.

Girl: "Don't you like Susie?"

Guy: "She's a little crazy."

Girl: "Guy's like crazy."

Guy: "True"

I had a guy friend in college who always dated girls who were a little crazy. Crazy-fun in the beginning, then crazy-wacko in the end. We had a conversation about this fascination he had with women who were just plain nuts, and he said flat out, "the sex is better".

And to men it's that simple, the sex with a crazy woman is so good, it warrants the risk of personal safety.

The phrase, "lady in the street and whore in the bedroom" rings a bell here, as I wonder, how many men follow this train of thought. Everyone likes a little excitement in their life, sure. Most people want to find a mate they can take out in public, to business functions, to meet their families, etc. But does the craving for something outrageous outrank the societal standard for something normal?

And what is normal?

I wanted to jump into this conversation and tell this guy - "the sex will not be worth it, don't do it - it won't be worth the slashed tires and the spray-painted profanities at your job, or having your mom pissed off that someone keeps calling your house and hanging up, and these are the best case scenarios. "
But, instead I just walked away and shook my head, thinking about my friend from college who found the windows of his Range Rover smashed after he publicly dumped this crazy girl over a radio broadcast.

A skateboard and the sound of life passing before your eyes

This morning the first thing I heard (after my alarm clock) was the sound of someone skateboarding past my house. I immediately thought about being twelve again; where skateboarding was my biggest priority for the day. I have never really wanted to go back in time to repeat those glorious days of childhood. I wasn't popular. I didn't stand out. I just wanted to get by - grow up and move somewhere I could fit in.
Today, for the first time, I wished I could go back to the summer I was twelve. Each moment was so important, and I didn't even know it. Every opportunity to learn something new was excruciating for me, now I would be happy to soak it in.

As the sound of the skateboard drifed off, so did my thoughts. I thought about my fourteen year old daughter and how lucky she is to have her entire life ahead of her. I thought about how each day forward will be one step closer to her being "grown up" and someplace else. I realized every moment - every opportunity I have had to teach her something will soon come to the point where world meets history and she will take all the knowledge I have tried to share and move out on her own. I realized how little time I have left to impress all the good things, before she takes them into the world and makes them her own.

To be fourteen and have the world at your fingertips. College choices, and travel; boys and friendships; career choices and concepts - the world is a fresh place...when you are fourteen. When you are forty-one, life is not so fresh. Choices are no longer so easy. Every decision is based on a process which includes at least three other people, a community restriction, and likely a schedule change. I know the choices I have made in the past were all based on freedoms - the choices I make now are all based on restrictions. The wheels of a skateboard propel the wheels in my head as I realize every step I have made in the past has led me to the steps I am no longer able to make in the present.

Now, how do I take the proper steps to take my future back to where I saw it in the first place? Are we able to out-think ourselves and become wiser based on recognition? We certainly can't backtrack.
Make every step count.

Amateur Night 2009

"We will open the book. Its pages are blank. We are going to put words on them ourselves. The book is called Opportunity and its first chapter is New Year's Day." ~ Edith Lovejoy Pierce

New Year's Eve has been my favorite night of the year for as long as I can remember. Even as a small child I remember thinking how exciting it would be when the ball fell in Times Square. How glamorous it was in New York, before I even understood what the city meant to the world.

The symbol of the ball falling meant a new year - a new start - a new opportunity.

Then as I became a teenager and young adult, New Years meant partying like a big dog.

Then I understood the concept of amateur night. Every fool comes out of the woodwork to party as if they have never been out of their cave before. "The light, the light...it's blinding". I have never seen so much stumbling and public vomiting.

Well, maybe St Paddies Day, but for some reason in the spring, under the guise of cultural enrichment or celebration, it's excused.

There is a fantasy that comes along with the New Years eve celebration. The kiss at midnight. The hope of new success and hopes for the new year. Promise...

So much expectation.

I have had some of the best NYE's of my life, and some of the worst, but I still love this night as much as a birthday. It is a concept of anticipation for something good and fresh.


Happy New Year Friends, Family and Fools! It is 2010 and you have your entire life ahead of you. Good, bad and indifferent - take a deep breath and cherish this moment.

This moment, even when captured in the frame of film, may be forgotten, but try and remember the feeling that came along with it.

"I made no resolutions for the New Year. The habit of making plans, of criticizing, sanctioning and molding my life, is too much of a daily event for me." ~Anaïs Nin