Public art?

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Art comes in many shapes, sizes, and mediums and can vary so much that at times it may be overlooked.

Take for example the public art I have been fortunate to pass every day on my block for about 3 years now. Art that I will admit, in my ignorance, that I almost did not recognize as art.

At first I barely noticed it. I thought it was simply a stop-gap measure, a way for the utility company to hold up a weakening pole until a new one could be put in its place.

After all, I had seen similar structures in other parts of the city. Tall giant Xs, looming over the population, keeping electrical wires safely out of roads and walkways. All very similar to the one on my block, all temporary.

My first clue that I had overlooked something special was time. It was only after the poles remained in place over 2 years that the truth began to dawn on me. These were not utilitarian poles, they had another purpose!
Further study strengthened my belief. An abundance of creativity and thought had gone into placing these poles. They simply oozed art.
To begin with, much time and hard work had gone into balancing the poles very precisely, creating the impression of shoes on feet. If you look at just the lower part of the poles, the image of a giant strolling along is clear. The artist must have thought a long time to come up with just the right angle to achieve such a pleasing aspect.
The impression of humaness is furthered by the lovely bowtie the creative genius provided. Just think of the hours of practice required to tie such a knot! What skill! What dexterity!
Yes, it is a thing of beauty. Beauty I can enjoy every day for free.

Energy crisis-solved!

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The solution to our energy crisis is under our very noses, if we would only open our eyes and see it. It is not solar, it is not wind, is it not oil or wood or water.

But it is right there in front of us in plain sight. We just don’t know how to harness it.

It is my firm belief that finding a way to use this energy for our cars, computers, and lights should be a top priority. Energy scientists around the world need to drop all of those old, out-moded projects they are currently working on, and figure out how to safely capture it.

And I do stress safely, because I would not want the energy producing creatures hurt in any way.

But really, there is just so much out there, I cannot believe no one has yet found a way to store it for later use. It is such a fantastic source of energy. It is abundant. It is renewable. It is everywhere in our world.

Why, I bet you have one of the creatures in your home right now. Just think of how wonderful it would be if the scientist got to work and built a gadget that recharged batteries as the creature moved around. The creatures are, after all, prone to running through the house, bouncing off walls, jumping on furniture, etc.

Come to think of it, the scientists also need to add in a noise converter too. The creatures have a tendency to emit high-pitched squeals. Surely that produces energy.

So why are you smiling? Oh, I see. You think I just described your child.

I probably did. Children are one of the greatest sources of energy of all time. Or have you not noticed what a bundle of energy you are harboring in your house?

If only we knew how to harness all that wonderful energy for the good of all mankind. Just think of what we could do. A single child would probably power an entire neighborhood for a week! Just by playing.

So scientists need to really buckle down and figure out how to safely harness all that lovely energy.

For the good of all mankind.

The story of a girl

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Once upon a time, a child was born. She was born not into a life of wealth and leisure, but into poverty (but not dirt, because her mother was obsessed with cleanliness).

As this girl grew she began to notice that the world was not fair, and sometimes good people (like her family) were stuck in bad circumstances. While some people (friends and neighbors) had an abundance of food and drink, her family had to scrimp and save just to put a few crumbs on the table (a fact that the girl worked hard to hide from those same friends and neighbors).

But she was a naturally happy child, so she smiled on.

Until she hit her teen years with all its angst and trials. By this time, the girl’s happiness was overshadowed by the worldview that no matter how hard she worked, how much she studied, or how far she travelled, she was destined to live a life of misery and worry. There would be no escape from the life she was born into.

The story could have ended there, this girl could have become a depressed, miserable adult–but where would be the fun in that! Instead, the girl continued to mature, she met new people, and saw more of the world. She learned that she did have options, that life was made up of a series of choices that either sent her skipping merrily along the path to happiness, or sucked her off the path into the pit of despair.

Life became even brighter when she realized that every skip down the happy path led her further and further from that looming pit of despair. All she had to do was only make good choices, and stay away from the bad ones. (Sounds simple, doesn’t it?)

To keep making the good choices, the girl decided that she needed to look at every aspect of her life. She wanted to uncover every hidden danger to her happiness, every rock or pothole that might trip her as she skipped along lightheartedly.

What she found amazed her. She discovered that it wasn’t just about choices of action, but also of focus. She was surprised to discover that what she read and watched affected her more deeply than she had ever realized. Horror filled her with a deep, breath-stealing fear that caused her to lay awake at night in terror of the unknown. Anxiety-filled drama depressed her and stole away her desire to skip along the happy path, causing her to instead be sucked closer and closer to that oh-so-ominous pit. Humor and comedy, on the other hand, uplifted her spirit and lightened her heart.

So like Luke Skywalker, she decided to turn away from the dark side.

So if you read any books written by this girl (have you guessed that the girl is me?), don’t expect heavy drama, horror, or angst. She is doing her best to live on the light side. As far away from that old pit as she can get.

It is all about choices.

The Internet is a wonderful invention

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The Internet is a wonderful invention. I’m sure a hundred years ago no one thought the time would come when a person could write a message in the comfort of her own home that could be delivered in seconds. Seconds, mind you, not hours, not days, not weeks, not months.

But never has it been brought home to me the usefullness of the Internet until the recent travels of my family, particularly those of my daughter.

One of my daughters is currently on a trip to Europe, a trip of the lifetime. She is travelling with 47 other people, and they have a whirlwind itinerary that keeps them moving and very busy.

We knew even before the trip began that time zones and her busy schedule would make it difficult for her to be in contact, so I had resigned myself to wait patiently for her return.

But wait, what about that handy invention–the Internet? Could it come to the rescue?

It could with the help of a thoughtful leader in the group who had the forethought to create a Shutterfly account which she opened up to the parents waiting at home. Her thoughtfullness even extends to regular posting of new pics.

My husband and I now have a new game we play call “Where’s the daughter”. We look through the pictures as they are posted, searching for a glimpse of our daughter’s hair, her foot, or, be still my heart, in the rare instance her whole face.

And when we spot her, we feel like we have just won a prize.

Yes indeed, the Internet is a wonderful invention.

Take a deep breath…

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Okay, let’s all take a deep breath and calm down. It will work out, just wait and see. My heart will begin to pump at a more reasonable rate, the fear will cease its rush through my veins, and my brain will begin to function normally again.

I know, I know. The economy is not the best. People everywhere are looking for jobs and not being able to find them. And here I go and quit my job. I should have stuck it out. I shouldn’t have quit like that. Now I’ve put my famly in a bind. (See, I wrote famly instead of family. I told you my brain wasn’t working correctly.)

Two months. That was all the time I worked there. A mere 2 months. But to tell the truth, it was 2 of the worst months I’ve ever endured at a workplace. I did not know that such places existed. All nice on the surface, but below the surface–nasty! Spite, back-stabbing, and dishonesty were all brewing in a steamy, gooey mess that escaped periodically through cracks that some people had in their ethics.

It was not for me. It is not the way I work or live–it would have killed my soul.

So I did the only thing possible and resigned.

Gulp!

Note: Not everyone at the company is a seething mass of nastiness. Therefore, I will not name the company to protect the innocent.

Air Travel

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My husband and I purchased our tickets for our Central American trip in January–but only after we spent about a year researching which archaeological ruins would be the best to visit, the type of lodging that would make our stay the most comfortable, and the most logical route to take to see as much as possible in 10 days.

Part of our research included scanning airline schedules. We were willing to visit just about any country that contained Mayan ruins, as long as it did not require a great amount of travel time. Our goal was to spend as little time as possible moving from location to location, so that we could spend more time at the locations.

Our final decision was to visit Belize first, move to Guatemala after 4 days, and then finish our trip relaxing on the beach in Cancun. The route was chosen primarily because there was a good flight into Belize, it was a mere 2 hour drive from our hotel in Belize to our lodgings in Guatemala, and the flight from Flores, Guatemala to Cancun was a short 1 hour and 40 minute hop.

The first part of our itinerary worked as planned. But on our second day in Belize, we received a phone call informing us that Taca Airlines, in their infinite wisdom, had decided to cancel the scheduled flight from Flores, Guatemala to Cancun, and reschedule another that jumped around all over the place. Our 1:40 hop suddenly extended to over 9 hours. They even sent us to El Salvador.

But, as my husband reminded me whenever our plans went awry, it was all a part of the journey.

Even my husband’s calm was ruffled on the morning we showed at the Cancun airport and checked in. There we were informed that since we had missed our connection on our way to Belize (which we had not, we were on that plane), Continental Airlines had decided to take us off our connecting flight from Houston to Seattle.

Okay, now we were confused. First, why would missing a flight into Belize cause our flight back home to be cancelled, and second, did they expect us to end our journey in Houston when we live in Seattle? We had verified our flight over a week earlier, and they already had their money. What was going on?

After a lot of scrambling, the ticket agent found a flight with 2 seats available a mere 7 hours after our scheduled flight. With no other choice, we said we would take it.

In Houston, after clearing Customs and Immigration we rushed over to the Houston ticket agent and explained our predicament. She agreed to put us on the next flight out (which happened to be the one we orginally had tickets for) on a Space Available basis.

But we had better hurry, since the gate was on the other side of the airport, and it was already boarding.

To make a long story slightly shorter, we made it to the gate, but not on the plane. There were 10 people ahead of us also flying Space A.

Eventually, we made it home. But really, the airlines seem to not mind in the least shuffling their passengers about as if we were playing cards, rather than people.

Airlines. They seem to think that they own the skies!

Adventuring in Guatemala

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La Lancha Resort in Gautemala is beautiful, and remote. To get there you have to drive about an hour down a bumpy dirt road, zigging around pedestrians and livestock, and zagging to avoid potholes.

Our room is in the jungle, and it certainly feels like a jungle cabin.

We have no TV, no radio, no clock, and no alarm. Even our phone system, if you can call it that, is restricted. If we have the need to call the front desk, the call is made via a shell phone intercom system.

We do, however, have internet access from the open-air lobby. Which explains this post.
Today we visited Flores, a 35 minute boat ride across beautiful Lake Peten.

From the jungles of Belize

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Now this is a trip! We have been here fewer than 2 days, and already we have had enough adventures to fill a book, or almost.

For example, did you know that due to bandit activity, an armed military escort is needed to visit the ruins at Caracol? And of course, the ruins at Caracol were our very first stop.

But even with the long drive and military escort, this is a blast. I wouldn’t miss it for the world, and neither would my husband. We make a great adventuring team.

You know, I feel like I am an Agatha Christie character in an Indiana Jones movie. Love it!

The newbie

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“Listen, I know you are a newbie, but I need you to get started right away. This car needs to be in Tacoma in one hour, and you are the only one available to drive it.”

I gulped. It was my first day on the job and my first assignment. I had not wanted to start this way, since I hated driving unfamiliar cars, and the tight deadline added stress to the situation. It was about 50 miles from where I was standing in Seattle to the drop-off point in Tacoma, so the tight schedule left no time for errors.

You might wonder why I was in the least worried, since I had been driving for years. I guess it is just my personal style. Usually when I am assigned a new car, I take a little time to learn the ins and outs of that particular car. Every car is different, and every car has its quirks. But with this gig, the luxury of time was not to be had.

“Is there anything in particular I should know?” I asked as I approached the little red vehicle parked on the side of the road.

“Not really, this is just a standard delivery job. If you know how to drive you should be fine. Here’s the address of the recipient, and here are the keys,” my boss said as he tossed the keys and a stack of paper my way. “The car is all gassed up and ready to go, so all you have to do is make sure it gets to Tacoma on time. I’ve got an appointment to get to, so I’ll talk to you some time next week.”

With that, I was alone with the car.

I grabbed the keys and the papers from the street where they had landed and approached the sleek little car. It was like no other I had ever seen, since it had 8 wheels while the normal car had a mere 4. Each side sported 3 wheels instead of 2, and the front and the back each had a half-sized wheel located smack dab in the center of the bumper. It was unique, that was for sure.

I opened the door and climbed inside, only to find the shock of my life. There was only one seat in the car, it had been placed smack in the middle, and there was no steering wheel! Instead, there were hundreds of un-labeled levers of all shapes and sizes covering every surface–walls, ceiling, dashboard. Only the floor remained free of the levers, which made sense, because the levers probably would have interfered with the 20 or so pedals that formed a half-circle around the seat.

I jumped out of the car and raced into the building and up the stairs. I needed someone to tell me how to drive this crazy car, what the levers were for, and which pedal did what. And I needed the help fast, since I was expected to deliver the car to Tacoma in less than an hour.

The boss was closing and locking the front door as I reached the top of the stairs.

“Do you need anything? I am just on my way to the airport. I have an important meeting I need to get to,” the boss said with a smile.

“Well,” I began, “I could use a few pointers or an instruction manual, if you have one handy. This car is a little different–”

“Instruction manual? I don’t think we have one of those. But I’ll tell you what, next week some time I’ll get one of our trainers to give you a tutorial.”

“But–”

“I’ve got to go right now, or I’ll miss my plane. I’m counting on you to get that car to Tacoma on time. I’ve heard great things about your driving ability, so I know you’ll do a wonderful job. See you next week.”

And with that parting shot, I was once again alone.

I gulped once, took a deep breath, and pulled my shoulders back. There was no way around it, I would have to figure out by myself how to drive that crazy car. And I would have to do it in the next few minutes. There was no time to think, no time to waste.

I had made a promise, and I always kept my promises.

I just hoped I made it to Tacoma in one piece, with no crashes along the way.

Frazzled

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I thought I knew myself better than that. I really did. I just don’t understand it. How can I have been out in the workforce for all these years, and not know this about myself. Especially since every job I’ve ever held was a customer-facing position. I adore working with people, so how could I not realize…

What?

Oh, sorry, I’m not trying to be rude, I have just recently acquired the habit of mumbling to myself, particularly about…

I probably shouldn’t say, it is so embarrassing. I’d rather keep it a secret.

Okay. If you insist, I’ll tell you. I’ll tell you the horrible little fact I discovered about myself–if you promise not to tell anyone else. Agreed?

I’m too helpful, too empathetic for my own good. There, I said it.

What do you mean, what do I mean?

Okay, I’ll explain. Well, my current job is like no other I have ever had before. When I took the job, I had no clue that it would be so different. I certainly couldn’t tell from the job description, which read like a compilation of most of the jobs I’ve held in the past.

So I began the job full of energy and ready to learn. I loved it that the people I was to work with were so great. And the location–practically no commute at all.

Within the first week I discovered that this job brought with it stress-levels the likes of which I had not previously known existed outside of a hospital emergency room. The thought of the stress sends shivers through my body, so let us put it aside. It is the weekend after all.

Anyway, the main problem with the job lies within me. I am a fantastic librarian (humble, aren’t I), mainly because I love to help people. I get a kick out of helping people find what they need, solve their problems, and learn new skills. I adore the width and breadth of the problems, the creative solutions I must invent, the research, the face-to-face interactions.

Best of all, I could see happy faces when the need was met. It made my heart swell (in a good way) and relationships grew and were nurtured.

But in this job, the clients are never satisfied. Their insatiable thirst for more, more, more nearly drove me insane. Repeatedly I empathized with them, and bent over backwards to make them happy. Each time, it was never enough.

I wore myself out. When what I should have done was put down my foot and said ENOUGH.

Who knew empathy could be such a failing. Who would have guessed that the desire to help would be leave me frazzled.

Certainly not me!