Monthly Archives: October 2011

My life as a master forger

29 Saturday Oct 2011

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In high school I was like that girl Andrea on the Beverly Hills 90210 television show from the ’90s. A little nerdy, a little too talkative, and I worked on the school newspaper. I just didn’t wear glasses.

On the surface, I was pretty straight laced. I never got in trouble and I don’t think my parents ever really got mad or upset at me. (It’s not like I was getting invitations to parties or anything–I was pretty safe being at home on the weekends doing nerdy things like reading a book or practicing my calligraphy.)

I know. Yawn.

But what most people don’t know is that I had a secret life as a master forger. I wasn’t exactly like that guy on Catch Me if You Can, but if I had taken just one wrong turn I’m sure I could have “concurred” during a surgical procedure or pretended I was a pilot. I’m sure of it.

This is how it all went down:

It was my junior year in high school. The school sometimes hired me for my calligraphy skills for certificates they were handing out, whether it be for the athletic program, or some other club or organization. I guess word travels when you’ve made a name for yourself in the world of calligraphy. A few of the cheerleaders soon hired me to make their “spirit” signs throughout the halls. They’d bring me a big roll of colored butcher paper and I’d take it home and roll it out on the floor of our family room, and while watching the Johnny Carson show late at night, I’d paint signs that would say things like “Go Pioneers!” (that was our mascot–the Oregon City Pioneers) or “Beat West Linn!” (they were our rivals from across the river). I rocked those spirit sign posters.

What surprised me when I was painting the signs for the cheerleaders was that they began to pay me about $5 per sign. This was my first taste of capitalism, and little did I know where it would take me.

My signs became quite popular and so people began asking me to make signs to wish a friend “happy birthday!” or to ask someone to homecoming or prom. My signs began decorating the hallways and I had a pretty good business making about $10-$15 a week.

If sign painting was required to stay on the island on the show Survivor I’m sure I would never get kicked off. And that’s how I felt in high school. I was a keeper.

Now I’m not exactly sure how the next thing happened though. People knew I made signs and they knew I had all sorts of “fonts” and “typography” up my sleeve (though no one called it that–this was pre-Macintosh days. In fact, pre-computer days). And they knew I shamelessly took their money in exchange for my talent. But one day a kid–a cute guy, in fact–came up to me and asked me if I would help him out by writing him a note from his mother that he could take to the school office. The note was to explain that he was home sick the day before and couldn’t be at school.

There was a voice in my head that immediately told me I shouldn’t be doing that. It was wrong. But I looked up at him into his dark eyes and said, “Why, of course!” I wrote the note in my most adult-looking penmanship and away he went. I think after that day when he would pass me in the halls he might have even smiled at me once or twice. Maybe.

Before I knew it, almost as soon as I got through the high school doors, before first period, there would be a group gathering around me. They would be shoving stationery at me that they grabbed from home and they had pens in their hands for me to use. For $5 each, I would write their “notes from their mothers.”

This went on for a few months and then I can’t remember why it stopped. Either everyone decided it wasn’t a good idea anymore or maybe I took the high road and said I wasn’t going to do it anymore. (If the latter was the case, it’s too bad I don’t remember doing that. I’d like to think that I could remember when I behave virtuously.)

I’ve gone back to living my nerdy, quiet life. I don’t forge anymore. That was just my phase in high school. It garnered me a little bit of attention, a cute boy would smile at me, and I was making some pretty good cash for very little effort. It was capitalism at it’s finest!

But I don’t think I’ll ever be able to run for public office now.

I know, you thought I was an athlete, right?

19 Wednesday Oct 2011

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I wasn’t very athletic when I grew up.  In fact, the whole P.E. thing alarmed me when I started Junior High School and discovered that we had to actually shower in front of each other. I mean, I never got naked in front of my own family, why would people think that its okay to get naked in front of girls from your math or choir class?

And then I felt like I got the coveted Willie Wonka golden ticket–the doctor’s note excusing me from P.E.  I had bad knees that seemed to dislocate just by turning left.  Or right.  It was both knees and after suffering a dislocated knee during line soccer and three knee operations later, there was just too much paperwork for the school administration to have to go through every time it happened that they welcomed the doctor note.

So all during Junior High and High School I took other electives like calligraphy or jewelry making or movie making and relished in the fact that I didn’t have to get naked in public.

Once I entered college, though, I decided to look at all the various options for physical education (mostly because I had to in order to graduate).  I tried dance aerobics, tennis and swimming.  All the girls in dance aerobics apparently were ex-high school cheerleaders and I felt like the biggest dork.  They all seemed to already know about quick-ball change and v-steps and the ol’ standard, grapevine. This was all new to me.  They never taught this in calligraphy class.   Tennis made me feel worse.  (“You  mean I have to run after the ball?  What kind of game is this?”) At least with swimming I started to get a little confidence. Especially when I was able to do the butterfly.  (I rocked!) Since then I took that confidence and discovered step aerobics, kick boxing, weight lifting, spinning, hiking,

Fast forward to now.  I now feel like I did when I was in junior high where I got the golden ticket excuse to get out of P.E. But it’s not the kind of note I want.  Having an auto immune chronic illness means I have to make sure that I’m exercising, but sometimes the fatigue just takes over.

The best way to describe it is this way:  It’s like moving in cement.

But tonight I felt a little normal again.  After a long day at work my super duper supportive husband went to the gym with me tonight and we attended our weight lifting class and then I stayed for the Zumba class.  I just love Zumba!  It’s the one class where even if I am moving in cement I can still move. It’s freeing and fun.  I feel like I’m able to open up it kind of makes me feel young again. There are all shapes and sizes in the class, not to mention ages. It’s fun and such a stress release for me  In fact, my husband goes nearly every time with me and that’s a great example of the kind of support he gives me. And I think he has fun too.

I was thinking tonight during the Zumba class that it doesn’t matter that I can’t move like I used to.  I’m just so glad I’m moving.  It seems like I started out my teenage years not caring about P.E., but now that I need to move I’m grateful for the days when I can. And tonight I could and had a blast.

 

 

 

 

Top 10 things I’ve learned since getting married

15 Saturday Oct 2011

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I married later than most people do.  Particularly for those who live in Utah. I thought I knew myself pretty well, but marriage is a lot like looking in the mirror.  When people used to share that little nugget of wisdom I thought they were suggesting that my spouse would be similar to me.

Ahem, not exactly.

It’s myself that I see reflected back to me.  So here’s the top 10 things I learned since getting married 3 1/2 years ago.

1. It can be okay that we don’t like to hang bath towels the same way.

2. I tend to speak for other people (Steve) when they (Steve) can do it for his/her self (Steve). This, apparently, is not good. This is news to me.

Yes, I’ll speak for him.

3. I make my husband laugh.  A lot.

4. Sometimes I think the exact thing my husband is thinking.

5. Sometimes I’m not at all close to thinking the same thing Steve is thinking.

6. I can do a lot of things I didn’t think I could do (zip lining, scuba diving, cutting back on the shoe purchases, answering nature’s call in the woods–Don’t ask.)

7. I get weird about the laundry.

8. I have issues with other people being in my kitchen. (I’m working on that one.)

9. I know the difference between a junco and a house finch.

10.  Sometimes I tend to take the complicated route when the simpler route will do just fine.

Steve Jobs. He changed the world–and me–simply, thoughtfully and creatively

06 Thursday Oct 2011

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Steve Jobs - Photo from the front page of Apple website

I remember the ad that aired during the Super Bowl in the year 1984. That was my senior year in high school. All seniors in Oregon were reading the George Orwell novel, 1984, and so the Apple commercial totally resonated with me. But it wasn’t just the Orwellian nature of the commercial–it was the first time technology caught my eye.

Then I went to college where there was really only a handful of Macintosh computers on campus and I made sure I knew what computer labs had them. I always used a Mac, even if it meant standing in a queue for it. I thought people were insane to use computers that had DOS because I had no patience for DOS. I loved fonts and Apple had them.

I told a friend one time in the late 80’s that if I were reincarnated as a font I would be the font, Avant Garde. Apple had that font on its computers.

After college I went to work in Silicon Valley for a (wait for it…) Macintosh software reseller called Computerware. I loved working in Palo Alto and getting the skinny on all things Apple Computer. On my desk was a Macintosh II. And then I advanced to a Macintosh SE30. Several years later I bought a Mac SE from a friend and then when I had enough money saved I bought my first brand-spankin’ new shiney Macintosh–the Cube. Oh, how I loved that computer!

I remember when Apple stock was selling around $10 a share I wished I had enough money to buy shares. Looking back, I should have taken out a loan to do that. I had faith in the company and once Jobs came back to the company I knew it would take off. I bought one of the first iPods, and then the one in color (still have it!) and got the iPhone. Two laptops later, plus the conversion of two family members, I have Apple in my DNA. In fact, a lot of my wedding was the result of Apple. (Customized thank-you cards using iPhoto cards, our wedding website using iWeb, our music using iTunes, and iDisk, which enabled me to manage all the wedding plans from what would later be known as the Cloud. I also made a beautiful Apple photo book with iPhoto using my photographer’s digital photos.)

I’m a proud Mobile Me user, iPad owner and plan to buy Apple TV for Christmas.

I know this all sounds so materialistic, but what I’m trying to say that I’ve completely loved being part of the ride of innovation sparked by Steve Jobs. The message in that first Apple commercial in 1984 was what resonated with me–the idea that the stodgy way of doing things doesn’t have to be. The tools we use can definitely impact how we think and how we act. It opens up so many possibilities. That’s what I have loved about Apple and what I’ve loved about Steve Jobs.

He has shaped who I am and how I look at things: Simply, thoughtfully and creatively.

Thank you Steve Jobs.

Ugh. I’m chronic.

04 Tuesday Oct 2011

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After giving it much thought, I’m going to come out of the proverbial closet on this one.

I have a chronic illness.

There are a few reasons why I originally didn’t want to “come out” on this one. First of all, there’s the whole privacy issue with one’s own health care. Do I want people to know that something is wrong? What if my employer used this against me? What if people looked at me differently? What if it kept me from achieving something I really wanted because I was held back by someone else?

The other reason for maybe not going public was that I didn’t want to become depressing. Not just for readers but for myself too. I’m not judging those who find therapy in the Internet, but it’s not my approach on how I want to manage my own situation. I often have to give myself a break from the Internet–mostly when I’m hunting for solutions–because often times the people who are suffering the most tend to also be looking for answers and frequently post some of the saddest conditions. There’s a lot of hopeless folks out there who seem to be facing many challenges. It can be very depressing for those going through it and for those looking for answers.

Should I be acerbic? I might be, but I don’t think that’s going to be my approach. Should I be funny about it? Hmmm, I might laugh at something now and then, but not everything is funny. Sometimes it’s just plain annoying, inconvenient, and downright frustrating. Should I be a grassroots advocate for change or research or try to get people to pay attention to a rare condition? Oh, I wish I could. But with a very hectic corporate job with oodles of responsibilities, for now all I can do is keep up with that and make sure I’m staying on top of my own health, which requires consistent exercising at the gym. For now, I’ll have to find other ways to champion the cause.

What I do know is that this blog isn’t going to be all about my illness. I don’t think readers can bear that and I know I can’t. Part of living with a chronic illness is the living part. I’d rather focus on the other parts of my life that bring me joy. For now, this chronic illness that I have is forcing me to make decisions–about how I do things and when I do them as well as how much I do them. But I can still do them for now. And I’d rather try to find work-arounds rather than spin my head out of control by focusing everything in my life around the illness.

So, in case you’re wondering, I don’t have lupus. (Remember, in an earlier post, I mentioned that I was misdiagnosed four 1/2 years ago.) Most people’s reaction when I tell them that is “Wow! That’s great news!” While that’s great news, I just traded one disease for another. The official diagnosis I have is scleroderma. It’s part of the auto immune family and fortunately, it hasn’t impacted my organs at this point. And it just may not. We suspect that I’ve had it for about five years now and usually if the organs are involved that gets manifested in those first five years. But the doctor did inform me, “never say never.” Yes, there’s always a disclaimer.

Where do I go from here? Well, there’s no cure — just managing the symptoms. I can’t really play piano like I used to–it’s been that way for the last four years. Most of this has been manifested in my hands, which are puffy and swollen most of the time. (When my rheumatologist delivered the diagnosis news he said, “Well, you’ve been dealt a bad hand,” to which I replied. “So to speak.” See? There are appropriate times to be humorous, no?)

We’ve finally got me on some medication to manage the Reynaud’s Syndrome, and that’s been a blessing. And I am now pleased with my new rheumatologist and next month I’m seeing a gastroenterologist for consultation on other issues related to the disease. I’m keeping my fingers crossed that he’ll have some more solutions for me as well. (Oh duh. I can’t cross my fingers–too swollen. Ha! More scleroderma humor!)

So why write about it? Why am I not being private about it? Because keeping it a secret just adds to my stress. I’m not ashamed about it and besides, maybe there’s someone out there who might identify with what I’m going through.

I mean, for Pete’s sake, I’m over 40. I was bound to have something happen to me.