29 posts from 2007

Everyone knows someone affected by heart disease or stroke.

Both my father and my father-in-law have been affected.

For those I love, I will be walking in this year’s Heart Walk. I have set a personal goal to raise funds for the American Heart Association and need your help to reach my donation goal. We are raising critical dollars for heart disease and stroke research and education.

You can help me reach my goal by making a donation online. Click on the link below and you will be taken to my personal donation page where you can make a secure online credit card donation. The American Heart Association's online fundraising website has a minimum donation amount of $25.00. If you prefer to donate less, you can do so by sending a check directly to me.

Your donation will help fight our nation’s No. 1 and No. 3 killers—heart disease and stroke. You are making a difference. Thank you for your support.

Follow This Link to visit my personal web page and help me in my efforts to support American Heart Association - Collier, FL

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Cheryl Rushing

Yesterday I stopped at the communal mailboxes on the way home to get the mail.  Posted above our section of boxes was a notice that someone had found a ferret and it was at domestic animal services and scheduled to be destroyed next week.

The notice reminded me that there is a community bulletin board at the end of the mailboxes.  I stop by there sometimes to see what's what.  Things for sale, services offered, lost and found, coupons, maps, the usual.

Yesterday there was a notice that almost made me drop my mail: someone in the community was selling a bed.  Not just any bed, either.  Queen sized.  Mission style.  $250.  OBO.

We've been thinking about buying a new bed for a while.  We are currently sleeping on a full size that I've been dragging across the country since the late 90s.  No head or footboard.  Just frame, mattress and box springs.

This is perfect.  The size we want, and includes the head and footboard?  And mission style - my favorite?  Not even a year old?

Queen sized mattress sets alone are upwards of $400.  The head and footboards are probably at least $400.

I snatched the whole notice off the board and called him when I got home, figuring the bed would be gone.  He called me about an hour later and we walked over to his apartment to take a look.

It's gorgeous.  The mattresses aren't even 5 months old!  I offered him $230 (I should have said $200, but hindsight is 20/20).  We're going to pick it up on Sunday.

All because of a ferret.

*************

In other news, work is going well.  I am much more caught up than I thought I would be at this point in the week.  I'm going in a little late this morning so I can do some cleaning here at home because of the next news item:

My brother H and his brood, and my brother R and his brood and coming down to Naples tomorrow for the day.  We're going to the beach and having a cookout and just generally hanging out.  I'm so excited.

Irish and I both have the day off from work tomorrow, and he's got a list of chores for tonight, since he'll be home and I'll be at a dinner meeting.  But that's why I'm going in late this morning, to do some stuff so I don't feel so overwhelmed tonight.

After Friday I have a whole long weekend filled with nothing.  I'm looking forward to that, too!

When you were younger, did your parents ever send you away for the summer?  What was the experience like?
Brought to you by the movie Georgia Rule.

My parents didn't "send me away" but the summer I was 12 my cousin Kelly and I went to southeastern Oklahoma to spend the summer with my maternal grandparents.  My grandfather was sick with emphysema, though he would get much worse in later years.

That summer was so hot.  I don't remember a summer ever being hotter.  We spent most of the time inside under the air conditioning, and when we did go out we were always armed with our swimsuits and popsicles.

There was a boy down the street who had moved in sometime during the past winter.  His name was Shawn and he was 15.  He was cute, and I had a huge crush on him.  Unfortunately for me, I was mousy and goofy and far too introspective.  Plus, did I mention I was 12?

Kelly was 14, glamorous.  She smoked, I remember, which scanadlized me to the core.  That summer she was constantly bumming cigarettes from whoever.  She looked 16 or 18.  She set her sights on Shawn and I'm sure she had him that summer, whatever that meant to a 14 year olf girl and a 15 year old boy at the time.

One day we went to someone's house to go swimming.  I don't remember whose, I just remember there was a pool, and I had a yellow and white one piece bathing suit.  I swam and jumped into the pool and swam some more until I was wrinkled.  There were other kids around, so it may have been a public pool.  I remember I was getting a lot of looks and snickers.

Seems my bathing suit went completely transparent when wet.  Kelly remembered to tell me this after we had left to go home.

I was mortified.

She was fearless, where I was fearful.  I had lived in that area for a year back when I was 10, so I still knew people who lived nearby.  I had heard through the grapevine that a bunch of kids were going to the roller rink one afternoon, and some of my friends would be there.  Shawn would also be there, and so, of course Kelly had to go.

I'm not sure where my grandmother was at the time, but she wasn't at home.  Kelly and I were home alone with my grandfather.  He was old, sick, and hadn't driven in years.  Neither one of us could drive, so she convinced him to take us to the roller rink, which I thought was a horrible idea.  

There was a bird house on the corner of the driveway on a long post.  He nearly took it out trying to back out of the driveway.  We made it to the rink safely and I remember spending my usual time being a wallflower, watching my 5th-grade boyfriend skating with his then-girlfriend, and catching Kelly and Shawn making out nearly everywhere.

My grandmother picked us up later that afternoon and boy was she mad.  She was most angry at Kelly for forcing my grandfather to drive us, but she was also mad at me for not trying to stop her.

Story of my life.  I'm the responsible one, so I'm always responsible, whether something is up to me or not.

The funniest part of that summer was that whenever my grandmother was calling one of us, she would call roll.  When calling for me she would say "Come here Kelly, I mean Candy, er Cheryl."  Or when she was calling Kelly she would reverse it: "Come here Cheryl, I mean Candy, Oh! Kelly!"

Candy was the dog.

********

Funny thing.  About 10 years ago I had just moved to Mississippi, and I got an e-mail from Kelly.  She was living in Tennessee, and getting ready to marry her third husband.  She had tracked me down and wanted me to come to the wedding.

I wasn't able to attend, but we did exchange some e-mails and we had one of those weird discussions you could only have as adults.  Somehow we got on the subject of childhood, and I admitted to her that I had always been jealous of her because of her looks.  Everyone always talked about how beautiful she was, how she should be a model, such stunning eyes and beautiful features.  I always felt so frumpy by comparison.  I always felt like I lived in her shadow.

She told me that she had always been so jealous of me.  I was the smart one, and everyone always talked about how intelligent I was and how capable.  They always expected me to do great things.  She always felt stupid by comparison.

It was pretty liberating to get that out in the open.  We had a really nice talk after that.

I think her third marriage lasted a couple of months.  Last I heard she was somewhere in Oklahoma, working for one of the Indian casinos and snorting her paychecks.  Damn shame, too.  She was a beautiful girl.    

At 6:20 this morning Irish left to go to Atlanta for some work stuff.  He'll be back Friday night.  It's our first time apart since I moved in here 14 months ago.

I intended to see him off and then go back to bed for an hour or so, since we were up late watching a movie (The Guardian, which was meh) and he was packing.

As soon as I locked the door behind him I went over to the front window to watch him drive off, then I went through the bathroom to go back to bed.  I noticed that the rugs looked awfully dirty and tried to mentally calculate the last time they were washed, and I couldn't.

I plucked them up and tossed them in the washing machine, then I was going to go back to bed.  Passing through the bathroom I noticed how much crap from the rugs was now on the floor.  The floor could use a good sweeping, so I swept it, then decided to mop it, too.

I couldn't go to bed with the floor wet since it required the bathroom doors to be shut and the kitty's litter and food and water dishes are in the bathroom, so I stayed up for a bit.  As soon as the floor was dry, the washer was done so I put the rugs in the dryer.  I stepped into the kitchen and noticed those rugs were dirty too.

So I plucked them up and tossed them in the washing machine.  Now the floor's filthy in there, too, so I swept and mopped it, then went into the bathroom to put everything back in it's place: kitty litter, hamper, food and water dishes, trash can.

Now the bathroom rugs are dry, but the kitchen floor is still wet and it's 8 a.m.  I was planning on getting up at 7:30, so no sense in going back to bed.  I decide to wait until the kitchen rugs are dry and then go to the gym.

I head over to the gym and I'm dismayed that the only person there is on MY treadmill, so I decide to use the other one - the one that asks for a maximum speed, then gets you up tp that speed as quickly as possible and leaves you there.  I hate that machine.

As I am starting up the treadmill-usurper finishes her workout, grabs her duffel and leave.  Yay!

After my workout I clean out the trunk of my car and run everything over to the trash compacter.  Then I come home and sit down with the pile of unread magazines I found in my trunk.

I can't wait anymore, so I take a shower.  I brush my teeth while the water heats up, then I jump into the shower and rinse my mouth under the shower head, only somehow I get water down the wrong pipe and suddenly I'm coughing, spluttering and choking.

I can't breathe, even though I know it's only water - I'm gasping for breath, trying to force air into my lungs.  What's actually happening is hyperventilation, all of this sucking for air is resulting in wheezing, coughing, but no relief.  I stumble out of the shower and onto the bathroom floor - thank God it's been mopped recently and the rugs are clean!

I finally manage to get back to normal breathing, but my skin is all prickly from the effort.  Mental note: need to buy an inhaler just in case.

It seems I can't be trusted alone for 6 hours, much less 6 days.

I'm A Quitter

I quit Weight Watchers yesterday.  I realized I was becoming obsessed with food and I was rebeling against the program, doing everything I shouldn't be doing.  I felt powerless and bad about myself.  Guilty for not going to weigh in.  Guilty for gaining at weigh in.  Guilty for not following the program to the letter.  I am constantly beating myself up about my inability to make this work for me.  I think WW is a great program that works, I'm just not mentally where I need to be in order to be successful with it.  I also think that while my leader is great, my group is enabling my food obsession.  I'm going to try to eat better and work harder on getting exercise into my life, instead of focusing on food.  Perhaps Overeaters Anonymous?  Perhaps some other diversion tactic.  Just no more paying $40 a month for another tool to use in berating myself.

The amazing thing is, I came home last night and made and ate dinner, and since then I haven't had one single snack.  Haven't even wanted one.  I generally snack a lot in the evening, so this is a step in the right direction. 

Novel in Progress

I'm writing.  And writing.  And writing.  I had an idea for a novel and started working on it in January and it was going no place, so I stopped.  Then a few days ago I had the idea that my two main characters needed a backstory, so I started writing it as a prologue, but it has taken on a life of its own.  My prologue is now two chapters, and I realized I just caught these characters at the end and the beginning is so beautiful and tragic and magical.  They wake me up at night, these people, with their arguments and their laughter.  I'm enjoying them so much and the writing just flows out of me.  I've never felt like this before about writing. 

Hi-ho, Hi ho...

Work is busy.  We've had 4 people resign in the last 10 days and it is really making life hard on those of us who continue to stick around.  Plus, one of the support staff has a (thankfully operable) cancerous tumor on her brain and so she'll be out for a while with surgery and recovery, etc.  We're being stressed to the limit.  I'm making a lot of sales right now which should cushion my sales goal for the year and give me time to help out where necessary.

Reading, too.

I've got a lot of magazines, plus two books I'm reading right now:

Hating Women: America's Hostile Campaign Against the Fairer Sex by Schmuley Boteach.  It's been fascinating and I'm sure I will revisit this topic in a blog sometime soon.

Get Between the Covers: Leave a Legacy By Writing a Book by Neil Shulman and Eric Spencer.  I just bought this and I'm looking forward to getting started on it, but between my emerging novel and the book above, it's still sitting unopened.

That's it for the updates.  How's things by you?

It's been a very long, very tough month, work wise.  It feels like one of those suspense movies... like that Julia Roberts one... Sleeping With the Enemy.

Remember how he was chasing her through the house with all the suspense and then she shoots him, and he's laying there on the ground and she starts crying and the camera starts to pan out and you're thinking it's then end?

Then suddenly he comes back to life, grabs her hair, holds the gun to her head and pulls the trigger, but he's out of bullets?

That's been my month.  I thought I had shot it dead, but it grabbed me by the hair, shoved a gun in my face and pulled the trigger.

No bullets.

I was relieved when I thought the month was done, though it didn't turn out the way I'd hoped.  Then there was a last gasp from one of my clients that ended in a whimper, and it is done.

On to March.

Irish and I got to spend Sunday afternoon doing something kind of fun and unusual: we judged an essay contest.

Our Mensa chapter (and I think all Mensa chapters, as well as the regional and national organizations) gives out scholarship money, and every year there is an essay contest.  We set aside $4,000 for scholarships to be given out, but only advised that there was a top prize of $1,000.

After judging the (only) 16 essays we received, we determined a top prize winner.  That winner scored 274 out of a possible 300 points.  The second place winner, with 260 points, will receive $500.  No other prizes were awarded since the pool of applicants was so small, and the depth of essays was so shallow.

Some notes to future essay contestants:

• Read the instructions carefully and follow them to the letter.  The second place finisher would have been closer in points to the first place finisher had he or she double spaced the essay.  The only reason the essay was even considered was because of the lack of entries.
• Proofread your copy.  Check for misspelled words and weird grammar choices.  Read it aloud, if you have to.  Errors become more apparent when spoken.
• Learn proper semicolon usage.  I cannot tell you the amount of people who would just randomly throw in a semicolon.  It was perplexing.
• After you proofread let someone else read it.  Not your grandma, or your little brother.  Choose a trusted friend with good grades in English, or a teacher or adviser.  This is imperative.
• Be sure to have a strong thesis statement.  Many of the essays we read were well written and grammatically correct, they just weren't clear in their statement.
• The opening is key.  Don't be cliche.  Really think about what you're writing.  One of the essays I judged started out "I have always believed that my future was very important."  Um, duh?  I think I threw up in my mouth a little bit when I read that.
• Enter! Enter! Enter!  Even if it's a small amount of money to the winner, every little bit helps.  The winner of our contest can do anything he or she wants with the money: buy books, pay tuition, have a big party, whatever.

It was fun.  The lady of the house where we judged the essays prepared an Italian feast and we all had a great time.  Plus, we gave out some cash to a couple of deserving students.

More like one of those weeks.  Coming into the office this morning I already had 38 hours on the books.  I'd love to leave early today but I've got a client coming in at 1:30 and then a meeting after that lasting until at least 3 p.m.

I have a couple of accounts that are equivalent to beating my head against the wall that has nails sticking out of it.  One is for the big boss, the head of our office.  He doesn't care what anyone says, I *will* get this done.  So I did.  Only the premium is unacceptable to the client.  I've spent three weeks pulling my hair over this goddamn thing and she says the premium is unacceptable so now I have to find someone else to quote it.

Um, hello, welcome to Florida.  If you've gotten a quote, you should consider yourself lucky.

THERE IS NO ONE ELSE.

Then there's a producer who is trying to get a building covered for his uncle, only his uncle doesn't want to give me any information to quote with.  Soo... that's going well.

Then we have our monthly awards thing today.  In my department I consistently have the most sales.  My January wasn't great, but I know I did better than anyone else.  I've been the top seller nearly every month since August.

So imagine my surprise when the award goes out to someone else in my department.  Even moreso when they announce her sales numbers.

I go back to my desk after and look at my commission report and I sold THREE TIMES as much as she did for the month of January.  Seems management wanted to spread around the award a little bit so they gave it to the runner up instead.

Nice.

I think I'll go stab myself in the eye with a fork now.

I alluded earlier on to the fact that I was having some ongoing health problems.  I had scheduled an appointment for Thursday to see the doctor, which seemed to me like a long time to wait.

Monday morning I was on my way out to meet a client when I decided to call the doctor and see if they had a cancellation in the near future.  I was told there was a cancellation right then if I could come right now.  I quickly called the client and rescheduled and went to the doctor.

Turns out the first doctor misdiagnosed the problem.  The treatment that was prescribed has only been making the problem worse.

I got a new diagnosis and a new form of treatment and after just two days I can already tell a marked difference.  Wow.

I've always had great luck with doctors.  My family doctor was my dad's college roommate, and after he left his general practice to focus on sports medicine, we ended up using a 9-9 clinic near our house where the doctor was wonderful.  I stumbled on a terrific doctor in New York, and ended up using a different doctor when I returned to Oklahoma and he was great, too.

So this misdiagnosis thing came as a surprise.  I've always had great trust in doctors, but I've learned my lesson and I will definitely be speaking up sooner if I think something is wrong.

Saturday, February 4, 2006.

The day before, I had gone to the airport and picked up Irish.  We spent the entire rest of the day and evening packing the U-Haul.  We then went to downtown Oklahoma City, to Bricktown, and had dinner at Mickey Mantle's and took a walk through the city.  It was a perfect night.

The next morning we continued to pack, and I wanted to get on the road early.  My friends had other plans.  They hijacked my car (which needed to be loaded on the trailer) and then a friend came by and offered to take me to breakfast.  Turns out there was a party waiting for me at the diner where we went for breakfast.  It was so sweet, I'm almost ready to cry just thinking about it.

We finally got on the road around noon, headed for Florida, and my new life.  I was having some sinus issues that turned into a full blown sickness over the course of the next three days.  My poor honey had to do almost all of the driving while I slept or blew my nose.

It was a good day.  It led to what has been a pretty amazing year.

Sunday, February 4, 2007.

Irish is now my husband.  He's out at his dad's replacing some siding.  He'll be home in a few hours and then we're going to meet my boss and her husband at a bowling alley for a Super Bowl party. 

GO BEARS!