As I Sing It...

Being 40: I'm a Mom

2012-02-20T23:51:00.000-06:00

Many people do not subscribe to the idea that pets are members of the family. I am not one of those people. Yesterday, I became a dog mom. I had hoped to be a mom before my 40th year ended and, although I didn't anticipate I would achieve that by adopting a dog, I consider the mission accomplished.

The adorable Labrador Retriever/Beagle mixed pup has a shiny, silky black coat and beautiful brown eyes. Adopting her gained me a membership in an exclusive club. It's called The Black Dog Club. The following is taken from the information I received about the Black Dog Club. If you are considering adopting, be sure to keep your eyes peeled for all of the black dogs awaiting adoption.

"Did you know that black dogs are often overlooked at animal shelters?

Most animal shelters find it difficult to place large black dogs into forever homes. Black dogs, especially large ones like Labrador Retriever mixes are overlooked in favor of lighter colored dogs.

Some shelter staff think black dogs are more difficult to see insider their kennels making it hard to connect with the dog. Others think it's hard to see facial features on black dogs and therefore hard to gauge their emotions.

There is absolutely no evidence that color has any bearing on temperament, behavior, or health, regardless of breed."

Being 40: Happy Tuesday

2012-02-14T14:32:00.000-06:00

I don't hate Valentine's Day. I hate that everyone else thinks I should.
I don't have a problem with love. I love a lot of people. More than I can count, in fact... I have a problem with being told that I should be sad and angry and depressed because it is Valentine's Day.
I don't resent this holiday. I resent the people who try to make me feel like I should.

The idea that being single is some kind of punishment or prison sentence or some sad relegation for people who are not hot enough or good enough or lovable enough is not only antiquated thinking but it is also, quite frankly, an insult. We are not all longing for love or waiting for Prince Charming to ride in on his white horse to save the day.

The idea of being in a relationship is nice. And if the right guy came along, even if he wasn't on a white horse or wearing shining armor, I would be open to the possibilities. (Note to all the single men reading this: it's probably better if you don't show up dressed as the Tin Man on the back of your strong and noble steed.) But the notion that I am waiting at the window or by the phone or just waiting in life in general for romantic love to o complete me is a misconception. All single people aren't like princesses in a Disney movie. We aren't all sitting around depressed or sad or held hostage by the projected inadequacies of our singleness.

This may come as a shock to all of you conveniently or comfortably or even happily married folks but... some single people are genuinely happy.

So to those of you who have earmarked this day not only for love and affection and romantic dinners and chocolate and flowers but also for reminding your single friends that they are all alone and should feel lonely, I say to you...

Happy Tuesday.

And to my parents, my sister, my nephew and all the other members of my extended family as well as my wonderful friends, I say, Happy Valentine's Day. I love you!

Being 40: YAY 11,000 Readers

2011-12-23T09:11:00.000-06:00

This week, my blog topped 11,000 readers. I realize that's not a lot for a website but it is for me given that my own friends and family (the people I BELIEVE I'm closest too) don't read this thing. So THANK YOU! THANK YOU! THANK YOU! All of you who loyally read or those who just stumbled here searching for "Old Lesbians" or "International Smack and Ass Day," I appreciate your time and your visit. Please pass it on. I think I'm pretty incredible and I've got some... well... some stuff to say.

Being 40: A Christmas Gift Giving Guide

2011-12-23T09:01:00.001-06:00

Christmas is two days away and if you are like me at all, struggling to get into the Christmas spirit, you still have two or... five... more gifts to pick up. If one of those gifts is for THIS 40 year old gal, let me give you a few suggestions.

A PUPPY

My nephew has suggested that I need a security system and a gun or other weapon of some sort. I would prefer a friendly companion. A dog perhaps. And I'd like a big dog who is cuddly and lovable but has a demonstrative bark. I have a friend at Purina that told me if I rescued a black dog, she'd give me free food so... keep that in mind as well.

A MAN

I don't believe that all the good men are taken. I just, frankly don't have time to hunt one down, tie him up, throw him in the Jeep and bring him home. So it would be hugely helpful if you could take that off of my plate. I'm thinking Hollywood. I'm thinking hot. He doesn't have to be able to carry a good conversation but taking out the trash and pulling the car around when it's raining will be required. Zach Levi might be good. He's so unexpectedly yummy. Or Shemar Moore who is obviously yum but surprisingly single. I hear Edward Burns is married to Christy Turlington but may you could talk to her first. He just seems like such a stable guy. I know, I know... you're thinking, "No Puerto Ricans or Cubans on the list?" I've been that route. Many times. And while Latino men in general still rank in my top ten, it seems you can't hold 'em down for too long. I don't need someone who is going to escape quickly.

I saw a quote yesterday that said, "There's a fine line between cuddling and holding someone down so they can't leave." All I can say about that is... YES.

CASH

That's right. Show me the money. Whatever last minute thing you were going to pick up for me at Walgreens is lovely, I'm sure. But I would honestly prefer the cash value. I just bought a house and I'm feeling a little house poor right now. And if I am going to be adding a puppy and a Hollywood hottie to my household, I am going to need a few extra bucks laying around. I take checks too.

I hope that helps and doesn't send you completely back to the drawing board. But I know how difficult I can be to shop for. Be careful out there! I don't want to see any of you on the news. And enjoy your holiday weekend.

Being 40: I Loved a Boy

2011-12-18T23:59:00.001-06:00

I loved a boy who loved me back once. He made me smile. He made me laugh. Butterflies flitted around in my stomach when he got close to me and then I'd melt into his hugs because they felt like home. Safety rested in his arms and they were the one place where I felt like I belonged.

I loved a boy who loved me back once. He understood me. We talked for hours, sharing dreams, conspiring, hoping and wondering. Moving away from his gaze seemed impossible because deep inside his sparkling eyes I could see that he just... got me.

I loved a boy who loved me back once. He put me first, ahead of everything else. Being the center of his world scared me but then I made him the center of mine because we were meant to be. Life without him became unimaginable.

But one day my whole world came crashing in on me. The boy I loved no longer loved me. I cried for what seemed an eternity because I'd lost my home, my safe place, the one place where I belonged. No one understood like he did... or like he used to. I missed his eyes, his arms, his smile, the laughter.

Then I grew up. And I forgot that boy. Until I met a man who soon I grew to love. And he loved me back.

He made me smile. He made me laugh. Butterflies flitted around in my stomach when he got close to me and then I'd melt into his hugs because they felt like home. Safety rested in his arms and they were the one place where I felt like I belonged. He understood me. We talked for hours, sharing dreams, conspiring, hoping and wondering. Moving away from his gaze seemed impossible because deep inside his sparkling eyes I could see that he just... got me. He put me first, ahead of everything else. Being the center of his world scared me but then I made him the center of mine because we were meant to be. Life without him became unimaginable.

But one day my whole world came crashing in on me. The man that I loved no longer loved me. I cried for what seemed an eternity because I'd lost my home, my safe place, the one place where I belonged. I missed his eyes, his arms, his smile, the laughter.

Then I remembered the boy. And I thought about the man. And I wondered... Were they ever really real? Or had I made them who I wanted them to be in order to find things I was too afraid to find on my own? Joy and laughter. Safety and confidence. Hope. A world in which I was the most important being.

And then I grew up. And I forgot the boy. And I forgot the man. And I became the woman I am today.

Being 40: Being 40 is almost OVER!

2011-12-18T18:00:00.000-06:00

Only two months left of my 40th year! I can't believe how quickly time has passed. I am now officially closer to being 41 than I am to being 40 and I still have a few more items to cross off of my TO DO list for my 40th year. That said, it's been pretty good!

Here is a short list of some of the things I've done in 10 months:

Gotten a new job (And I am working on stuff that really matters!)
Volunteered for the Animal Rescue Foundation
Raised money for CARE
Donated truck loads of food and clothing to worthy causes
Took my family on a road trip to Memphis & hung out at the King's house
Visited Washington D.C. for the first time with my adorable 9-year-old nephew
Spent time in Indiana, Kentucky, Virginia, West Virginia, Ohio, Pennsylvania, Maryland and Georgia too
Sang the National Anthem at more than 10 events
Bought a house!
Found my brothers and sisters on my birthfather's side of the family
Saw the Cardinals win the World Series. (That was my 3rd trip to the World Series, by the way.)

And I spent hours and hours of quality time with friends and family, including friends from grade school, high school and college. Took a few more classes toward my Masters degree and coached two 7th grade volleyball teams, one of which came in first place in the league. I didn't get married or have a baby... But there's STILL TIME! In fact, I have THREE big items left on the list. Three big things in two months? Wouldn't be the first time!

All I have to say is, if it gets better from here, 41 is going to be AMAZING.

Being 40: Going It Alone

2011-12-18T16:53:00.000-06:00

Henry David Thoreau talked about how much he loved to be alone and Ann Landers once said that it's better to be alone than to wish you were...

I can tell you firsthand, after living in my new house for only a little more than a week. That, while I am good at being alone and have often preferred it to getting hurt, I was not made to be alone. Because I am keenly aware of this, I do my best to stay connected and involved in as many groups as possible. I keep my social schedule pretty packed too. So, I am rarely alone.

That said there is a big difference between being alone and feeling lonely. People talk about the sensation of feeling intensely lonely even when surrounded by people. I am very familiar with this. Right now, I find myself a member of three very distinct families, I have a work group and various cliques of friends but I feel profoundly lonely. And I feel incredibly alone. I don't think there's a soul out there who can relate to exactly to this phase of my life.

But man... it would be nice! Even just for a day... To not feel like I'm just going it alone.

Being 40: Baking Love

2011-11-21T00:57:00.000-06:00

Throughout my father's childhood, his mother and grandmothers baked all of their bread, made noodles from scratch and poured love and tradition into every meal. Somewhere along the route of my youth, I picked up on the joy of tradition in cooking and learned how to bake a little love into every one of my creations. Today, I use the baking boards that were used by my grandma.

While the baking process is often therapeutic, it serves a greater purpose for me. Baking is an outward expression of how I am feeling. As I mix together the ingredients, I also pour a lot of emotion into my breads. And as I knead the dough, I think about the people for whom I am baking. I imagine a delicious and delightful outcome. I hope they will not only enjoy my bread, but they will appreciate the feeling behind it.

One cannot bake bread for those they don't like or for whom they have no care or concern. Baking is born of pure enjoyment. It is filled with love and adoration. It isn't a mindless act. It is very much the opposite. It is a concentrated effort to create with one's hands a gift that will provide a positive and pleasant experience for another.

There is no quicker route to happiness for me than to be able to create with my hands and give to others.

Months have passed since I've been able to bake bread. Life had grown too busy. Other tasks were more important. The number of my responsibilities seemed greater than the hours in my days. I did what most of us do when I got busy. I shelved my hobbies and set aside the four things that provide the most enjoyment in my life: painting, writing, singing and baking. But when we stop doing the things that fill us with joy. We have no joy to give away to others.

I don't know what the resolution is to having too much to do. And I have not figured out how to add hours to the day. But this weekend, I baked. I didn't work on my house (because it was against doctor's orders). I didn't go to one volleyball game (because the season is finally over). I didn't work (and didn't worry about it most of the weekend). I didn't help my parents do... anything (except hang a shower curtain). I didn't study or clean or pack one box in preparation for moving.

I just baked.

I floured my grandmother's board, I kneaded dough and I focused on the people in my life. I baked for Thanksgiving and I baked for work and I baked for the love of it.

Being 40: Buying a Home

2011-11-06T23:37:00.000-06:00

There's no greater satisfaction in life than doing something that many people thought you never would or never could. On October 26th, in my 40th year of life, I bought my first home. All. By. Myself.

People buy homes all the time. I know a lot of homeowners. It's not uncommon. It doesn't warrant a gold star or a giant trophy. In fact, it's not really even worthy of a pat on the back. I mean, really... Who rewards or congratulates someone who willingly gets themselves into hundreds of thousands of dollars in debt?

However, it is not a decision to take lightly. And boy, did it take some time! But, I am finally the keeper of the keys to two units in south St. Louis, close to the neighborhood where I grew up. I am a landlord. And, I am a homeowner.

It's the scariest thing I have ever done in my life. Oh, but there is so much more to come!

Being 40: Fan vs. Heckler

2011-10-15T13:05:00.000-05:00

Fan: a person with a liking and enthusiasm for something, such as a band or sports team.

Terms that can be used in place of "fan" (synonyms): aficionado, supporter, devotee, enthusiast, fanatic, lover, admirer, backer, friend, promoter, follower, expert, patron, champion, etc.

Heckler: a person who causes repeated emotional pain, distress, or annoyance to another

Terms that can be used in place of "heckler" (synonyms): belittler, mocker, needler, harasser, insulter, attacker, trash-talker, victimizer, taunter, persecutor, torturer, etc.

Are you a fan or a heckler? I believe there is a time and place for a little heckling now and then. Mid-season when the game gets a little slow, it's fun to spark a "conversation" between the crowd and the opposing team's outfielder or to bang on the boards at hockey game when the other team's big fighter passes by. However, as the fan of any team, it is important to put more energy into your team than it is to throw all of your focus and attention into the opposing team.

Who am I to dictate fan behavior? What makes me an expert? Well, I've not only been a fan for most of my life but I was an athlete through college and for the past 20 years, I have been a coach. I understand sports. I understand motivation. I fully understand the difference between support and harassment.

Last night, during the NLCS game between the St. Louis Cardinals and the Milwaukee Brewers, a row of "Cardinal fans" in the right field bleachers spent the first 3 innings heckling Corey Hart, berating their own team and screaming in my ear. If you watched the game you know that Jaime Garcia pitched a gem through the first three innings but he was not exempt from those "fans" disappointment. Matt Holliday broke out of his short-lived hitting slump by racking up three hits last night but he apparently didn't hustle enough in the outfield for those "fans." They were rude and disrespectful.

The saddest part of the entire situation was that those "fans" were a father and four young boys. The father demonstrated the art of annoying nearby fans by shaking his rally towel over their heads and near their faces. The kids followed suit. The father stood up and screamed at the top of his lungs "Corey Hart you suck" over and over. The kids followed suit. He yelled at other fans around him. And the kids, once again, followed suit. They were like little bullies in training.

Who are you when the game is on the line or when your team is in the playoffs? Better yet, who are you when your team is 10 games out of first or your pitcher can't find the strike zone? Are you the fan or are you the heckler? Are you the supporter or the bully? Whoever you are, your kids are watching. The children around you are paying attention. And they are imitating you. They are becoming you.

You can be a fan who tosses out a good one-liner now and then. And you can certainly get vocal in the bleachers! But recognize that if you are a heckler sitting in the right field bleachers and your 13 year old son tells me to shut my mouth and sit down, you won't be a heckler in the right field bleachers for very long.

Being 40: Top Ten Differences Between Me & Nyjer Morgan

2011-10-12T22:10:00.012-05:00

The 2011 NLCS shouldn't be about the bad or ridiculous behavior of one Milwaukee Brewer but it's always fun to have someone on the other team that riles you up a little bit and fuels the fire you have for your team. Kind of the same way that Nyjer Morgan dislikes the whole St. Louis Cardinals team.

Just for fun I thought I'd see if Nyjer and I could be friends in another situation. Honestly, I did find some similarities. We are both loud. We are both confident. We have both dropped the F-bomb in a moment of excitement. On the other hand, there are some pretty big differences. Here are the top ten differences between me and Nyjer Morgan.

10. Let's get the obvious ones out of the way. He's a man. I am a woman. He's not so tall. I am very tall. He's a cancer. I'm a Pisces.

9. Nyjer hates the Cardinals. I love the Cardinals.

8. Nyjer not only chews tobacco but he also throws it at people. I'd rather chew on cake or ice cream (as evident by my fabulous physique)and I am certainly not wasting it throwing it at other people.

7. I respect the police. Nyjer taunts them.

Steve Mitchell-US PRESSWIRE

6. Nyjer has four alter egos: Tony Plush, Tony Hush, Tony Tombstone and Tony Gumble. I am just me. And I think that's enough.

5. I can spell.

4. I don't have to break into BEAST MODE to do my job well.

3.I don't have to steal the microphone to be heard. I am frequently hired to be on the mic. (http://www.facebook.com/pages/Michele-Rausch/85890115899)

2. I've never been spanked by Pujols.

(US Presswire)

1. My team has won the World Series 10 times.

Being 40:Visiting the Dentist

2011-10-04T22:37:00.000-05:00

Jamming the metal hook between my wisdom tooth and my gums, the dental hygienist lectured me about the importance of visiting the dentist every six months. "It's not so we can remove the tarter from the back of your teeth Michele; it's so we can clear out the bacteria that grows in the gums and prevent gum disease," she said. Again, she dug into my gums with her metal tool. I felt like she was trying to hurt me so I wouldn't wait so long the next time. Granted, it had been two years...
But it's hard for me to make a visit to the dentist a priority. The older you get and the more responsibility you have, the more likely you are to push things to the back burner that aren't really urgent needs. I have never had a cavity. I have had two tooth aches in my lifetime. Both ended up being related to my sinuses. So the dentist... well... I don't really think of him very often. He's a nice man. He's hygienists are marginally kind. But I don't feel an urgency to visit them.

When I have a free moment that might be a good time slot for a doctor of some kind, I am more likely to see someone who can fix one of the many things that do ail me, like my creaking knees or my sore neck or... these ridiculous sinuses. DENTIST is at the bottom of the list.

The fact that I can go every two or three years and get out of there in under 45 minutes with clean teeth, a new toothbrush and some floss that I will likely only use after I've eaten ribs or corn on the cob, does not make the dentist's chances of getting a little Michele time any better.

And, for the record, ripping my gums apart with a metal hook in an effort to demonstrate how painful gum disease might be is a sure fire way for me to toss that 6 month reminder card in the trash on my way to the car.

Being 40: The Flu is... Still the Flu

2011-09-20T19:12:00.000-05:00

I am not a good sick person. Doing nothing is difficult for me and when I am sick, I am non-functional. I lack focus for anything beyond soap operas and infomercials and I feel so weak I can hardly lift my big fat arms. But, when you are blowing noodle chunks through your nose, it's time to admit you have the flu and just sit down and relax.

Unlike many other things in life, the flu does not get easier with age. When I was a kid, my mom would set up a comfy bed of pillows and blankets on the couch in front of the television in our family room. Beside me she would set a big plastic olive green bowl. It was the puke bowl. And a TV tray with a cold rag, the thermometer and a small glass of coke syrup sat within arms reach. Every now and then, between wiping up the floors and ironing my dad's handkerchiefs, mom would come through the kitchen and into the family room to check on me. She'd plunge the glass thermometer filled with mercury into my mouth and jam it under my tongue and after a couple of minutes she'd remove it just as quickly. Then she'd make me take a sip of that coke syrup. Soda without carbonation that she'd get and Venker's drug store up the street... Mom would clean out the puke bowl and bring me a fresh cold rag and change the channel on the television to a new show (because back then... WAY back then... we didn't have remote controls for our televisions). I was sick and I was uncomfortable but I was taken care of and it was nice. I could sleep all day without worrying about how far I was falling behind at work. And within days, I was like new!

Today, after puking through my nose and choking up a glass of water, I curled up on the couch and took a couple of calls for work, answered some emails, had a conference call with a client and then I fell asleep. I woke up in a panic because I can't imagine how much work I have to catch up on tomorrow after two days on the DL (that's disabled list for you non-sports-minded folks). I ate some Jell-o and I hate Jell-o. Then I had a Diet Dr. Pepper and some mac & cheese. There was no fluffy bed of pillows and blankets. There was no temperature gaging or coke syrup. My mom wasn't around... and I thought... that's the problem!

Without our mom's we aren't forced to be good sick people. They made us stay in bed or on the couch. They forced fluids in us until we practically floated. They told us when we were better and it was ok for us to go back to school. It doesn't matter how old you are... The flu is still the flu. And sometimes, I suppose, you still need your mom.

Being 40: The National Anthem, Ten Years Later

2011-09-11T00:41:00.000-05:00

After, the September 11th attacks ten years ago, I decided that it was my responsibility as a singer of our country's national anthem to take a step back and reconsider how I performed the song. At that point, I had been singing the national anthem at events for about 15 years. There was rarely a situation in which I didn't panic about remembering the words to the song or get butterflies before singing.

So I sat down and wrote out the words. I studied the story. And I realized that, while we emphasize the phrase "and the rockets red glare, the bombs bursting in air," the anthem is really about more than the fighting. It's about coming through the battle and surviving. It's about being the side that is STILL STANDING when the smoke clears. It's about perseverance and victory.

In honor of the men and women who served before, during and after 9/11, here's the anthem as I sing it today. The crowd was small but that doesn't change the importance of the moment.

Being 40: Wonderful, Wonderful People

2011-09-02T17:03:00.000-05:00

It has been my experience that most people only remember the bad things you've done. It has also been my experience that in situations of conflict most people do not look deeper than what they see and hear on the surface. And it has been my experience that once you've hurt someone, directed your anger toward someone (or even seemingly so), revealed your vulnerability or exposed your flaws to others, the person you are in that single moment is the person you are to that person or those people for the duration of your relationship.

Over the last few days, I learned a very big lesson. I learned that there are people who will take the time to get to know who you are, who will remember your heart, weigh the whole of who you are and not just a single moment and love you in spite of your flaws and vulnerabilities.

People I've known for just six months demonstrated more faith in me and more loyalty than people I've known for many years.

There is an exception to every rule if you are willing to recognize it. There are some wonderful, wonderful people in my life right now and I count myself very lucky.

Begin 40: Online Dating Tips for Every Guy

2011-09-02T11:35:00.001-05:00

This is the blog that almost wasn't... It started out as the Top Ten Things a Guy Should Never Do. But, who am I to tell guys what they shouldn't do? However, the idea came out of my online dating experiences and the more i live in this online dating world the more I believe this should be shared.

Here are my top seven tips for any guy who is dating online:

1. User Name/Screen Name: There are certain words you should not include in your screen name. One of them is "lonely." It gives you an air of desperation and even if you are desperate a woman doesn't want to know that. It's too scary. Also, steer clear of names like OhMeSoHorny and ThisOnesHung. If you insist on names like those, then just steer clear of me (from now on).

2. Photos: Make 'em current. And in order to avoid confusion, by current I mean within the last year. The more recent, the better. When you post your Marine photo from 1989 and your date arrives to find a 40-something guy with a scruffy beard and his belly hanging over his belt, it's a... well... it's a surprise.

3. Make It Plain: Your profile description is an opportunity to let the world know what you like and what you don't. So just make it plain. I am not going to promise you that it will keep 60-year-old women who are posing as their 30-year old-daughters on the site from contacting you or that the women who are absolutely not your type aren't going to fall in love with that Marine photo from 1989 but... Being honest in your profile and taking the time to really fill it out completely will sort of cover your tail. You can always point back to it as proof that you were up front from the beginning because it's all in writing.

4. Answering the Big Questions: Most profile templates include drop down menus or check boxes for you to complete so you can be specific about your physical desires, your compatibility with regard to activities or lifestyle and your preference for the type of relationship you want. They are seemingly small and trivial but... they are the BIG questions. Complete these. Most guys have a preference for a particular body type. Most guys know if they prefer a woman who is shorter or taller. Also, many women want to know if you want kids or not. That's kind of a big deal given that we do the birthing and some of us really want kids and some of us really don't. And the truth is you know if you want kids or not so just say it.

5. Initiating Contact: When you send the first email to a girl, typing "hi" and hitting send isn't enough. In fact, "Hi, How are you?" isn't enough either. Tell her what caught your eye and why you're emailing. Give her a reason to respond.

6. Knowing When to Say When: If a woman doesn't respond or tells you she's not interested. Let it go. Don't keep emailing her. Period.

7. Anything is Possible. Or is it? While I don't think you know if someone will be interested in you unless you try. Take a woman's profile into consideration before taking the first step. If she's young enough to be your daughter or old enough to be your mother, think first. If she says she really wants kids but you don't, don't waste the time. She isn't going to change her mind. If she says she is more comfortable staying within 50 miles of her home don't email her from 3 states away. Anything is possible. Sometimes. Just keep that in mind.

Up next, all you ladies... Man I've heard some horror stories. You are not exempt from the rules.

Being 40: Facebook Status

2011-08-30T08:36:00.000-05:00

My facebook status is not an opportunity for you to bash me or rip me apart. It is not your long awaited chance to teach me a lesson or give me the "what for" or preach to me. My facebook status is mine.
That tiny window which captures a moment... MY moment... at the top of my Facebook page is not your moment. It's not a blank canvas awaiting the addition of the colors of your mood or pictures from your past. My facebook status is mine.

You do not know what the minutes leading up to that status were like for me. Perhaps they were joyous and fulfilling. And maybe they were sad and disappointing. I've seen other statuses that were tragic and pain-filled and some that seemed exciting or thrilling. All feelings I can appreciate and understand even if I have no idea what events lead to that person's posting.

You don't know how my day went unless you asked but most of you don't. In fact the majority of you have no idea how my life has gone except for what you see on Facebook.

My Facebook status is not an open door for you to judge. My Facebook status is mine. It should be taken at face value and no deeper than that. There are no hidden messages or meanings. It's a moment in time. It's a thought. It's sometimes incomplete but if I wanted to put the entire thought, I would. I just don't sometimes because... Well, honestly, it's because I write the whole thought and then I delete most of it because I feel that it may be inappropriate or it might hurt someone's feelings or it will cause me to get a flurry of emails from people who are judging me based on my Facebook status.

It's just my Facebook status. It's a sliver of my day, my month, my year, my life. But it's mine.

Being 40: Placeholder

2011-08-27T19:37:00.000-05:00

I am not a placeholder.

I am not a placeholder until you find a better date. A prettier girl. A smarter girl. A girl with a better body or what you think is a better body.

I am not a placeholder until you find better plans. A party. A friend you like better. A date with a guy who is looking for a better date.

I am not a placeholder for the other friend. A friend who always agrees with you. A friend who pays for dinner. A friend who always shares the perks of her job with you.

I am not a placeholder for your other daughter. A daughter who did everything in the right order. A daughter who rarely disappoints. A daughter who is good.

I am not a placeholder for the future doer of my job. A worker who is a morning person. A worker who stays inside the box. A worker who will stay for thirty years.

I am not a placeholder for anything that is not me. I am not a placeholder for anyone who is not me. I am not a placeholder.

I am the date. I am your plans for tonight. I am the friend and the daughter and the employee.

I am not. A placeholder.

Being 40: Experiencing Life

2011-08-15T20:41:00.000-05:00

If I had unlimited funds, I would spend my life giving other people experiences. I don't have a lot of material things but I have seen more and had more experiences than I can recount. Not all of them were joyous expeditions but I can honestly say that there is only one I would take back if I could. The rest, I believe, have made me who I am today. (OK, maybe they are ALL a part of who I am today but I'd still like to kick that one to the curb.) I count myself among the richest of the rich because of all I've been able to see and do.

For my nephew's birthday every year, we try to have some kind of an experience together. And this past Christmas, I decided that instead of giving gifts, from now on, I am giving experiences. Often it's not much but by doing this, I benefit too because I get to spend my time with the people I love.

So far this year, I have traveled to Memphis for the weekend with my family, saw the sites of Washington, D.C. with my nephew, sat 11 rows away from the beautiful men of New Kids on the Block with friends and listened to the croonings of Journey's new front man Arnel Pineda from the grass at Verizon Wireless Amphitheater. I've had dinners, seen movies, gotten pedicures and manicures and selfishly spent many a precious moment with some very dear people.

Maybe I am doing this for me, more than for everyone else... But I hope there are many many more experiences ahead for all of us.

Being 40: Making the Top Ten

2011-07-18T14:44:00.000-05:00

It should come as no surprise to most of you that my 9 year old nephew is PURE JOY in my life. I have written about him a time or two or three in this space before because he often teaches me little things I wish I would have known years ago and which are sometimes so simply profound that I am stunned.

From the moment he was born, Kirk and I have had an amazingly close relationship. Before he could speak we were fascinated with each other. I was his favorite lady. And then one day, someone decided to show him the movie Mary Poppins. I don't remember who the movie sharer was but on that very day, my life changed forever. Julie Andrews floated through the sky with a parrot on her umbrella and captivated my boy. A few years later, Kirk could have held post at the top of the Julie Andrews fan club as she danced atop the green hills of Austria and right into my nephew's heart in The Sound of Music.

Within the last three years, Kirk has taken a liking to a few other women of Hollywood as well. The humor of Betty White tickles him as do the musings of Ellen Degeneres and Wanda Sykes. Recently, thanks to the internet, Kirk discovered that Julie Andrews is friends with Carol Burnett, another funny lady, who he add to his mental list of favorite women.

Finally, I had enough! Too many women were encroaching on my nephew time and he didn't seem to think I was silly enough or pretty enough and it was no longer ME he wanted to sing for him. Gently, I pulled Kirk aside and asked him, "What is the fascination with all of these women, buddy?" I told him they were all too old for him. And he told me that "age is just a number" and he pointed out that "anything is possible." Then he encouraged me saying, "Don't worry Aunt Michele, you're still in my top ten."

Whew! What a relief! I'm still in the top ten for now. Recently Kirk has become aware of Lucille Ball and Amy Poehler and Tina Fey. What happens if the latter of those three fill the 40-something heterosexual demographic in my nephew's life?

Suppose it's true that one day... gulp... I will not be in Kirk's top ten any longer? I guess I should feel happy and satisfied that I led the way to his appreciation for funny, talented women and be thankful that only I get rewarded with hugs when I do make him laugh. For now anyway... still making the top ten.

Being 40: Dating. Again.

2011-07-18T14:29:00.000-05:00

When I was a little girl, I imagined that I would grow up and fall in love (whatever that meant) and I'd live a cute little house cooking and ironing and darning socks for my husband and my kids. I had no idea how that all really happened but I was fairly certain of the end result that I wanted.

This story is not new to most of you. The story of my dating life is not new either. Especially to those of you that followed my blog Dating Michele over the course of my 6 months completely dedicated to dating. But the hows and whys and what fors on the journey to find happily ever after have changed in each phase of my life and, naturally, with the ever-changing technology that the world offers us. For example, I can now participate in "online" dating from my phone. Hundreds of men virtually at my fingertips. A dream come true for a girl like me... or not.

Now that I'm 40, the reason behind my dating quest has changed as well. I am no longer in a mad dash to find true love and have babies. That would obviously be wonderful. But dating for me now is more about finding someone with whom I want to share life, spend time and just be.

I can tell you that it doesn't get easier just because you get older. I think that dating, no matter your age or circumstance, is hard. So take comfort in the fact that the person you are dating is just as freaked out by it as you are even if his reason is different. And there is always doubt about being good enough or measuring up to the expectations of other people. That's why I believe it is SO IMPORTANT to really know who you are before you bring anyone else into your life.

The day before yesterday, I received a flurry of emails from a guy who had contacted me online after I told him "Thank you, but I'm not interested." But, he continued to contact me. I reminded him that I was not interested. And then he proceeded to send a stream of abusive messages referring to me by a name that starts with B and ends with H and is CLEARLY not Michele. Twenty years ago, I'd have felt horrible about myself for days. Instead, I deleted the messages without response, blocked the man from my profile and got on with my day. Had I not known who I am and that surrounding yourself with people who build you up to be the person you know you can be is what's most important in relationships, I'd have worried myself to death wondering if maybe he was right about me.

So I'm looking for a decent guy. Someone nice. Someone NOT mean and angry who can't remember my name. I am completely and totally freaked out by it and I wish it happened just like in the movies. But it doesn't so... I'm dating. Again.

Being 40: Justin Matisse, Where Are You?

2011-07-04T02:11:00.001-05:00

Why has Justin Matisse never walked into my house, sanded off my front porch, built some shelves and pulled me out of my love sick wallowing?

In spite of my greatest efforts to grow into an independent woman who makes her own money and takes care of herself, all I've ever wanted was to be swept off my feet. In fact, deep in the heart and soul, I think most women just want to be carried away by a dashing and competent man.

But we work so hard to prove we can stand on our own two feet and buy our own shoes to put on those feet and often times pave the road upon which those feet walk that it seems as if there's no room for a man to swoop in and do the sweeping.

Filmmakers in the 80s and 90s are partially to blame for the conundrum I find myself in today. I grew up watching girls in movies pining over guys with whom they had no chance in hell. And at the end of every movie the guy showed up wherever that girl was. Just out of the blue! He chased her down, did the work and met her right where she was! And instantly her life changed from sad and pathetic to practically perfect!

As I watched those films over and over, I believed that anything was possible for me too. Why wouldn't the guy of my dreams suddenly realize that I was THE ONE for him and just show up?

For years, I have said that I would know a guy was the one for me if he just showed up. If he was leaning on a red porsche across the street from church waiting for me to exit through the front doors... If he was holding a giant boom box over his head playing our song for me... If he was taking our friendship for granted but later ditched his date to seal our relationship with a kiss... If he left the prom hastily because he was so in love with me he couldn't bear it... Oh wait. That's not right.

The point is... I haven't really been waiting for Justin Matisse or Jake Ryan. I've just been waiting for a guy to make the effort and meet me where I am. Sometimes a simple gesture is the greatest one. Showing up. Doesn't

cost you anything but time.

Being 40: Say a Little Prayer

2011-07-01T23:39:00.000-05:00

Does anyone ever offer to say a big prayer for you? Why is it always a little prayer? What if I need more than a little prayer? What if my circumstance is going to require a slightly larger intervention or something not too big but at least fair to middlin'? Is there such a thing as a plentiful appeal or a hefty supplication? How about a heavy duty invocation?

I appreciate it when people pray for me. There are days when I forget to do it myself. And unlike many others who say it only as a cliche, I mean it when I say "I need all the prayers I can get." But I'm not sure a little prayer is going to do. Maybe that's why some things are taking so long to come to pass...

How many little prayers do you think it takes to add up to just one regular prayer. Maybe y'all could say one regular prayer for me the next time you think of it so I can get caught up.

Hmm... now that I think about it, how many regular prayers do you think it takes to make a giant one?

Being 40: Some Things Never Change

2011-06-30T22:52:00.000-05:00

Although I have 4 months of BEING 40 under my belt, I'm still not quite an expert. I fear that I won't really get the hang of it or understand it fully until... well, until I turn 41. While I wait for the differences and the changes to reveal themselves in this new decade of my life, there are a few things I know for sure right now. The main thing being that... some things never change.

Here are the top ten things that are unaffected by BEING 40 (in no particular order):

I still need ten hours of sleep to feel completely rested. I guess that whole "wake up bright eyed at 5AM and eat dinner by 4" stuff doesn't really start for another 30 or 40 years.
I still struggle with my weight but I still see myself as beautiful.
Being a strong woman doesn't mean you are unfeeling. My feelings are just as easily hurt now as they were when I was 39.
I care what people think and I want people to like me.
Women are still catty and mean after 40. I don't think it's something that we, as a race of people, ever really outgrow. And it usually only makes me sad when someone is being nasty to me. I usually don't think about it when I mock someone's silly dress.
There are days when I still think I only have 4 good reasons for needing a man: 1) to pick me up at the door when it rains; 2) to share the chores (specifically trash duty & lawn mowing); 3) to lift really heavy stuff; 4) ahem... intimate adult interactions.
There are days when I still think all I need is a good man.
I still want babies.
I still want my parents to be proud of me. And not just when I am singing in front of thousands of people.
People in St. Louis suck at driving. I am the only one doing it right.

Being 40: Doubly Blessed in the Breast

2011-06-30T22:36:00.000-05:00

When I was 10 years old and in the fifth grade, I burst through the school doors as the bell rang to find my mother on the parking lot discussing training bras with the mothers of two of my classmates. They exchanged horror stories and comforted one another and I was HORRIFIED.

It took months for my mom to convince me that it was time to get used to wearing the undergarment of restraint even though I didn't really notice much of a reason for it. But when she finally got it on me, I refused to take it off. I was embarrassed by my blossoming bosoms and wanted to hide them as best I could. Keeping them covered in layers made me feel better but didn't make my changing body any less obvious.

By 14, I'd been felt up for the first time. Well, not quite. A certain boy, who shall remain nameless, tried to put his hand up my shirt and I freaked out. I will never forget it. I was in the driveway at the back of church and I was wearing my favorite white sweater and I said he was just my friend but I really liked him. And then it happened! And I screeched so loudly I nearly burst the stained glass windows across the way. He laughed. And again, I was so horribly embarrassed.

Those good for nothing boobs were a constant source of "OH. MY. GOD." for me. Total angst. I didn't want boobs. I didn't care what they were for or that boys seemed to like them. They got in the way when I tried to play ball and eventually, I could hardly sleep on my stomach any more without adjusting and shifting.

But no matter how hard I worked to hide them or strap them down and no matter how many nights I prayed that God would JUST MAKE THEM STOP GROWING, I had boobs and they weren't going away. Not only did I have them but I seemed to be doubly blessed in the breast.

Clearly I have adapted to the situation since I was 14 years old but the fact of the matter is that the grass is always greener on the other side. You always want what you don't have. And sometimes you don't want what you've got. But boobs are a part of being a woman and I am thankful for my healthy set. I am grateful for my girls. That said, if I could pick anything else to be doubly blessed with I might.

NOTE: I've never used this space to endorse a product. Until now... When you are well-endowed in the upper body region or doubly blessed in the breast, finding a bra that will stifle the jiggle and jump so you can workout without discomfort is nearly impossible. I recently discovered ENELL sports bras. When I say they secure you, I mean they LOCK YOU DOWN IN PLACE. I didn't realize what a problem I had until I put on this gear. I am moving faster than I have in years and I am able to work out harder so if you are a bigger busted woman looking for a sports bra, try ENELL!

Being 40: 60,000 strong

2011-06-19T23:28:00.000-05:00

Last Saturday, I had the opportunity to walk in the Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure with some very dear friends, one of whom is a five year survivor. Along the route, we connected with another friend of mine who is a ten year survivor this year. As we walked among the more than 60,000 participants, I was moved to tears a few times. The camaraderie and the unity of the people who packed the streets of downtown St. Louis was not only heart-warming it was also sometimes overwhelming.

Women walked with their daughters and sons, with their husbands and sisters, with their grandchildren and neighbors and coworkers. Some women proudly revealed their bald heads, the result of chemotherapy. Others were pushed in wheelchairs. There were pink tutus and pink wigs and dogs in pink tutus and wigs. Babies perched on parents' shoulders or rode along in wagons or strollers. The walkers were black and white, men and women, old and young.

It was a true representation of the disease. It is no respecter of persons. It affects everyone of us in one way or another. What an amazing experience! I am proud of you St. Louis. And I am thrilled to be celebrating with you Terri and Tammy! I hope that someday we are all just walking in celebration because a cure has been found.

Being 40: Greeting the End

2011-05-20T13:32:00.000-05:00

As I sat beside one of the partners of the firm where I work, I repeatedly mistyped information into our travel planner. She laughed as she looked at the address I used. The numbers were right. The street name was actually our company name. Clearly, the change in my diet, the decrease in calorie intake and my over-tiredness had a marked effect on my ability to function at my job. Just another example of learning that came from the Live Below the Line challenge this week.

Today, as the challenge comes to a close, I honestly greet it with open arms. While visions of giant cupcakes from The Cup dance in my head, it is not my intent to rush right out and go back to living in excess. My hope is that I will be able to continue on a path of less in a healthier manner and to be conscious of my over-indulgence. Not because I think my extra food is going to save the world but because I feel like it is the considerate thing to do in light of the very little that others have.

The difficulties of the week were the same every day but at varying levels. My struggle with hunger dissipated as the week went on and I eventually had to force myself to eat. It took only a couple of days for that to happen. Along with that came my inability to stomach the items I had at my fingertips. I am certain that had I never been exposed to peanut butter and chocolate and peanut butter-chocolate ice cream living below the line on tortillas and noodles would have been less difficult. You don't know what you don't know. And sometimes what you do know is a hindrance to success. So I battled with the tortilla until the very end.

I was sleepy throughout the week with the worst day being Thursday. I lacked focus and had trouble gathering my thoughts at times. My head hit the pillow early every evening and I slept on average for 10 hours each night. I would have slept longer had I had the option, quite frankly.

There are many who don't understand why this was so tough. There are others that think this kind of action is a waste of time. Success may be defined by funds raised. I met 91% of my goal which is satisfying and I am extremely grateful to those who demonstrated their support financially. Success may be defined by creating awareness. Over the course of the week, thanks to CARE and Live Below the Line, my blog has drawn more traffic than it had in the previous two months. And I am so thankful that that those of you in Australia, the UK, Canada, Kuwait and many other countries took time out to visit for a moment. (Please keep coming back!) For me, however, success will be defined in how I move forward from today. My perspective has changed; my awareness has grown; and my desire to continue to help others wherever possible has increased.

Being 40: Passing the Roadside Sobriety Test

2011-05-19T12:28:00.000-05:00

This morning on the way to work, quite the disturbance brewed on HWY 370. Three police cars and a tow truck were parked on either side of the center of the highway with flashing lights blaring, while an officer conducted a sobriety test on a young woman. I caught only a glimpse of the test as I was speeding past in the far right lane. (Yes, I was speeding.) But my immediate thought was, I am so tired, there is no way I could follow that officer's finger from left to right and back again in front of my eyes. In fact, wonder if I could pass that test at all.

Day three of the Live Below the Line Challenge proved easiest so far. I am afraid I have reached a point where I am not even hungry anymore and I lost just a pound yesterday which says to me that my big ol' body is not getting enough calories to even function.

All this time I've been saying I would be the perfect contestant on SURVIVOR because I could outlast those skinny broads. But now I wonder. No amount of sleep makes me feel rested and for the first time this week I'm crabby. I just endured a conversation about buffalo chicken with bleu cheese sauce and I've been craving cupcakes which makes me even more irritated.

There's been a lot of talk over the last few days about how these so-called "pretend to be poor" experiments are good for nothing. I beg to differ. This is an experience like I've never had and like I hope to not have again. I cannot imagine going forward from this week and not making every effort possible to help those in need. Not that I haven't done it before but sometimes recognizing crisis is not enough to make a difference. Having a feeling in the pit of your stomach or ingrained in your being motivates you to take the steps necessary to bring about change. When you've been there and you know what it was like, no matter what IT is, don't you want to help others so they don't have to experience it too?

Being 40: Mad at the White Corn Tortilla

2011-05-18T12:49:00.001-05:00

Eating to fulfill hunger is not really something I can comprehend. I have never eaten because I felt hungry and I've never stopped eating because I've felt full. That's quite the revelation, isn't it? And quite the confession. I eat because I feel like it and because I can. I eat because it tastes good. I have a sweet tooth for days and I love spicy flavorful foods. I eat with my family a few times a week. It's our time to catch up. I eat with my friends. Again, we catch up or we celebrate something or we do it just because. Food is the center of much of my life. There isn't much thought behind it at all. It just is what it is.

Even three days into the Live Below the Line challenge, I eat when it's time to eat, not to hush my grumbling stomach. And I dread the white corn tortillas. I am mad at them in fact for not tasting like fluffy white bread or an asiago bagel from Panera or ANYTHING ELSE THAT DOESN'T TASTE like a white corn tortilla. I think that because I have been so fortunate to eat what I want when I want that I am not grateful for the little bit that I have this week. Today, I barely choked down half of my lunch. I couldn't eat it any more. I would rather go without than eat another corn tortilla.

It is safe to say that on day three, I've learned to manage being hungry. It didn't take long to figure out that the busier I am, then less hungry I am, which explains why moms I know are always saying things like "I forgot to eat all day!" I have NEVER had an instance in my life when I've FORGOTTEN to eat. Can't imagine it. (Reminds me of friends I have who say "I didn't even know I got paid last week." Well, then you have TOO MUCH MONEY. But that's a blog for another time.) While I've learned to control the hunger, I have yet to grasp the idea of eating for nourishment or fulfilment. I don't know that a week will do that for me. And I don't know that I could do this longer than a week at a time because I am exhausted. I have very little energy.

There is a profound sadness that accompanies this experience. I do not completely understand what life is like for a woman living below the line every day but I am starting to get a sense of how helplessness can impact the choices you make and how you live out your days.

This week, I have very little food. I lack energy. It would have been easy for me to stay in bed today rather than going to work. I have lost six pounds in two days. I can stand to lose probably another fifty pounds but a women much smaller than me would probably really be struggling at this point.

Perhaps by Friday, the corn tortilla and I will have made up. And that may only be because I've had my fill of Ramen noodles and eggs.

Being 40: You Have No Choice

2011-05-17T12:50:00.001-05:00

Yesterday's Breakfast/Lunch was 2 corn tortillas, 2 slices of cheese,
1 egg & 4 slices of Buddig ham. I ate half at 11AM and half at 2PM.
I lost 4 lbs. I was hungry and I had very little energy.

The first day of the Live Below the Line Challenge was nothing less than challenging. Anyone who has ever followed a diet that required food tracking understands that most of the time we are unaware of all that we consume until we see it on paper or on the computer screen. And, for me, food journaling curbs my food binging as well. I don't want to see certain things on paper. I don't want to look like I am eating for three on paper. I don't want to lie to the paper. Ok, the third reason may seem lame or ridiculous but it's true. It's easier to lie to myself if I'm not writing "everything" down.

Going into this, there were two obstacles that I thought would hinder my success. The first was the obvious decrease in the amount of food I would eat every day. I essentially dropped from about 1800 calories (shut it) to about 800 every day. The second was caffeine withdrawal. I drink about 44oz. of caffeine OR MORE each day.

But, yesterday a realization hit me about half way through the day. Women who live on $7.50 a week don't have the OPTION not to do so. They don't have the choice to cheat. They can't just grab an extra egg or let someone buy them lunch. They don't LIVE BELOW THE POVERTY LINE because they are frugal or they are trying to lose weight. They don't have choices.

Today, my co-workers asked me to lunch. They offered to pay, in a charitable effort of their own. I declined. If I was really living below the line, the chances that someone would do that would be slim to none. If I was really living below the line, I would not have that option. Besides, I only have to live this way for one week. Others live it EVERY SINGLE DAY. I can go a week without a choice so that someday other women may actually have one.

Being 40: $7.50

2011-05-16T00:41:00.001-05:00

In my 40th year, I want to change the world. A long time ago, I realized that we all have the power to change the world even if we do it in our own homes. But this year, I want to make an outward effort that goes beyond my every day life.

This week, the Live Below the Line challenge begins. Participants have a budget of $7.50 to buy food and drink for the week. As much as I hate Wal-Mart, after doing some pre-shopping research, I realized that I'd get the most bang for my buck there so, tonight I did my challenge shopping.

Leading up to this week, I kept hearing others talk about how most of their week would consist of rice or oatmeal or chick peas. I didn't get this body by eating the same bland food over and over again. I clearly love variety. And I know that I would be less likely to succeed if I spent my whole $7.50 on a bag of rice and a box of oatmeal. It took me about 40 minutes to pull my meals together but I was able to get a little bit of variety & a few pieces of fruit. I have $.56 left which I will save for later in the week. I may be able to splurge on an apple or a can of vegetables.

If I didn't have the week ahead of me, the experience of shopping with only $7.50 in my hand would have made a profound impact already. But the week awaits. I will remember how tough it was to get enough food for the week when the thought of quitting crosses my mind. Women everywhere live like this every week, after all. And I'm doing this for them.

Thank you in advance to those who have sponsored me. Your support means a lot to me. If I get to 100% of my goal, I will extend this effort and go an additional three days. I am at 79% right now. If you would like to sponsor me, go to http://bit.ly/iKGGxX.

Wish me luck! Better yet, wish good luck to anyone who will have to be around me while I am caffeine free this week. God help them!

Being 40: Women Helping Women

2011-05-08T12:53:00.000-05:00

I didn't have to turn 40 to udnerstand that life is not just about me. I understand that my world is better thanks to the people around me. And I know that by giving to others, we essentially give to ourselves.

From May 16-20, I'll put myself in a MOTHER'S shoes. I will LIVE Below the Line & raise money for an organization called CARE. The following information was pulled from the LIVE BELOW THE LINE website to help you understand what this effort is all about. If you'd like to support this effort & my week of living below the line, go here: http://my.e2rm.com/personalPage.aspx?registrationID=1124022&langPref=en-CA

"Founded in 1945, CARE is a leading humanitarian organization fighting poverty in more than 70 countries around the world. CARE places special focus on working alongside poor women because, equipped with the proper resources, women have the power to help whole families and entire communities escape poverty. Women are at the heart of CARE's community-based efforts to improve education, health and economic opportunity. Of the world's 1 billion poorest people, 70% are women and girls. With such a large portion of the population struggling, CARE sees immense opportunity to empower women to contribute to their communities.

Live Below the Line is a fundraising campaign started in Australia in 2010, the movement quickly spread across 3 continents and is now catching on in the US. 1.4 BILLION people are forced to live every day on $1.50. Food, drink, health expenses, housing, transportation, education - all living costs must be covered by this amount. It's a feat impossible to imagine - but it's the reality for nearly one quarter of the world's population. The good news is we can effect change in this area.
May 16 – 20, 2011, is Live Below the Line Week. During those 5 days, thousands of people across the US will spend just $1.50 per day on food. In doing so, they will bring the issue of extreme poverty to the attention of their households and workplaces.

We'll all be challenged. We'll all struggle without caffeine. And we'll all have that not-quite-full feeling for 5 days. But we will do so because there are 1.4 billion people for whom doing without is not a choice, and that situation must change.

Being 40: Oh To Be A Princess!

2011-04-30T10:11:00.001-05:00

She woke up that morning, just a girl from a town outside of London. Throngs of people lined the streets to catch a glimpse and perhaps a wave from her as she rode past them on her way to church. Then the world watched as she floated down a red carpet in a lacy white gown and diamond tiara, escorted by her father and surrounded by a sea of hat-wearing admirers, to marry her prince.

"You look beautiful," said the handsome prince as she took her place beside him. She smiled.

She went to sleep that night, a princess.

The coverage of the royal wedding has been exhausting for some but inspiring for many. We may not all marry princes. In fact that may not be the goal for most of us. But the idea that you can wake up one day as just a girl and be a princess by the time your head hits the pillow is no longer just a fairy tale. It can happen. It did. Yesterday.

Who did you wake up as today? And who will you be when you go to sleep tonight?

What Makes Cardinal Fans the Best in Baseball

2011-04-21T11:50:00.002-05:00

For years, Cardinal fans have been called the best fans in baseball. The title was bestowed upon us not because we consistently cheer for our team but because, overall, we have a knowledge base that exceeds the fans in other cities. We appreciate good baseball. We recognize history in the making and acknowledge the impact that the past has on our present.

St. Louis is notorious for applauding good plays by players on other teams and for welcoming home guys who have moved on to other teams with standing ovations. We are smart fans. We love it when our coach defends his players in the face of a bad call. We get caught up in the emotion of a close game or a bench clearing brawl. We feel like WE win when our team wins and we feel like WE lose when they lose. Those are some of the things that make us the best fans in baseball.

St. Louis fans are also set apart from other fans because we show up. We fill the stands. We sit in the rain and the cold and the heat of July. We arrive at the ballpark early and we stay until the last pitch of the last inning. We endure losing streaks because we believe our team will turn it around. At least that's how it used to be. We do not boo our own team like they do in other cities. We do not applaud bad play but we show our displeasure by not being an active and vocal part of the game. We save our booing for the umpires and the protests of our opponents.

Yesterday, one of our guys voiced his displeasure with the St. Louis fans who booed him. I submit that ten years ago, fans would not have done that. I would also suggest that we have forgotten what makes Cardinal fans the best fans in baseball. We are not Yankees fans who regularly boo their own team. We are not Braves fans who don't even show up during the playoffs. We are not Reds fans who only show up for the playoffs. We are not Dodger fans who arrive by the 3rd and leave in the 7th. We are Cardinal nation. We are embarrassed by bad fan behavior. We feel an obligation to be there for our team, to be a part of the sea of red, to wear our Cardinal pride on our sleeve. We are loyal and true. We understand that the definition of a fan is quite simply "an enthusiastic devotee" or an "ardent admirer" and that doesn't mean "only if they play well."

Being a St. Louis Cardinal alone does not entitle you to cheering. Wearing the birds on the bat is not enough to endear throngs of fans. It is not enough to win them over. There is a high level of expectation that comes with the uniform. The Cardinals have a long history of not only good baseball but also personal pride in efforts on the field, a love for the city for whom they play and a determination to succeed, whatever it takes.

Although there is a high level of expectations for our team and we expect effort that goes above and beyond our competition, being a St. Louis Cardinal fan does not give you the right to boo your team. It does not require that you cheer either. We might believe that giving 100% on the field honors the players that came before you and that a city that loves it's team as much as St. Louis does deserves nothing less than the best; however, we cannot expect to receive anything more than we are willing to give.

Call me crazy. Or delusional. (And many of you have already done so...) But I think it's time to get back to our roots and to remember what makes us the best fans in baseball.

Being 40: A Letter to Parents: The Internet is the Future

2011-04-19T22:54:00.000-05:00

Dear Parents,

Do you remember the first time you heard someone say "the internet is the future?" I'm not sure when I heard it first but I know I've heard it often. And in the last 30 years the technological advances I've witnessed have exceeded extraordinary.

When I was a kid, we didn't have the internet. In fact, we didn't have computers until I was nearly through elementary school and even then, it wasn't a fully interactive experience. Back in those days, there was no immediacy online. We couldn't gain information instantly. We couldn't play games with people on the other side of the world. We couldn't express ourselves online twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. Whoever predicted that the internet is the future was right.

I submit, however, that the internet is also your child's future. And how they handle it now should be closely and carefully monitored by you. The advances made in the last 30 years will pale in comparison to the changes we see in the next 30 years. And right now, your children are creating a lasting impression online that can and will have an effect on their futures. Schools are monitoring social media activity to reach out to prospective students. They are also checking in on that activity when deciding whether or not to admit those students. Prospective employers look in on hiring candidates as well. Social media activity can hinder job acquisition. Social networking creates an environment where birds of a feather can more easily flock together too. What kind of people are your children attracting and with whom do they surround themselves on these social platforms?

Parents, I implore you: if you have children who are active online, ask yourselves the following questions:

Do I know the social platforms on which my child is active? (Social media is much further reaching than Facebook. For example, the 12-17 & 18-24 year old segments are the fastest growing groups on Twitter.)

Do I know who my child is talking to online? And who is talking to him or her? (This is not limited to chat rooms. That's old school. Who are they playing games with or getting tweets from on twitter? Whose blogs do they read?)

What kind of language does your child use online or what kind of pictures are tagged with your child's name?

Is your child "checking in" to various locations online? (Now the whole world can know where you are and when you are there? Do you want the "whole world" knowing the whereabouts of your child?)

Educate yourselves. Do the research. And participate in social media WITH your kids. Then it won't feel so much like spying. And you won't get a surprise text from Aunt Michele telling you that your kid's been dropping the F-bomb on Facebook left and right.

The internet was and still is the future.

Sincerely,

Someone who wishes she knew then what she knows now.

Being 40: I am me

2011-04-13T21:15:00.000-05:00

It seems like every other day random samplings of my Facebook friends are posting the same sayings or phrases or paragraphs in their status. Sometimes the statuses thank a wonderful husband. Other statuses recognize amazing children or a rewarding relationship with a parent. I am always tempted to write my own that says something like "if you've never been married to a wonderful man or had amazing kids but your single sassy and satisfied, repost this as your status." There are moments when I feel a little left out of the sharing. Being 40 and single, without a family of my own, is really hard some days.

But today, many of my friends were posting this: "I'm not beautiful or gorgeous. I haven't got an amazing figure or a flat stomach. I'm far from being considered model material~but I'm me. I eat junk food and love to wear my PJ's and no make-up around the house. I'm random and crazy. And I don't pretend to be someone I'm not. I am who I am, love me or not. I can't change ME!" And I thought, "Finally a status that is almost me!" Almost... Not quite exactly right... And it might vary from today to tomorrow to next Friday... But I think now I'd rewrite this REPOST-THIS-IF-YOU-RELATE status to say:

I am beautiful though it may not be obvious to you. I am gorgeous inside and out. I might not have an amazing figure but I have a sexy attitude and a beautiful mind. I'm far from being considered model material because I'd never give up ice cream or french fries or peace of mind to show my stuff on the catwalk. I like to wear my sweats and sometimes I can't wait to take my make up off but I also love to get all dolled up. I get my hands dirty and I work hard. But I play hard too. I am random and crazy and spontaneous and adventurous. I don't pretend to be someone I'm not. I am who I am. Love me or not. I won't change me. Not for just anyone. I am me.

Being 40: Smack that A**

2011-04-06T13:47:00.000-05:00

In April of 2007, someone introduced me to an holiday known as International Smack an Ass Day. I responded by writing the blog entry below. In May of 2008, I reposted it in honor of the holiday because it had proven to be so popular. Four years after the original post, my blog receives more traffic from people who have Googled "smack an ass" and various other versions of the phrase than from any other referral. In fact if you search "smack an ass day" RIGHT NOW, my blog is the first entry that shows up. Thank you google and thank you readers for this great honor. After you've read the entry below, please look around and read a little more. I've written much more meaningful stuff than this nonsense.

The Art of the Ass Smack
The art of the ass-smack has been perfected by the male species. No longer is it a gesture limited to the playing field. If may quite possibly be an acceptable greeting, replacing the pat on the back or the handshake.
Back in the day, it was accompanied by phrases such as "nice catch," "great play," and "way to go." Those phrases are often still used but they are accompanying the ass-smack at various social gatherings and family events as well as its place of origin, the sporting event.

"Nice shirt!" (smack) "Hey... hot new girlfriend!" (smack) "Way to bag those groceries!" (smack)

While I have yet to witness its implementation in corporate America, it is conceivable that the ass-smack might work well in meetings and conferences and following your annual performance evaluation.

"Great year, kid" (Followed by the follow-through ass-smack as you walk out the door.)

Guys grow up honing their ass-smacking skills through little league and pee wee football. It's a concept foreign to women, much like the numerous adjustments men make when wearing a protective cup. (I wear two cups every day and I am not constantly shifting things around.) That explains, my male friends, why grabbing a woman's backside or slapping her ass as she passes evokes a yell or gasp from her lips. We aren't used to that.

I have to believe this smacking is not a free for all and I am going to take a shot at what I think the rules should be. First of all, you should know the guy. No stranger smacking. That's just filthy. And, secondly, standard man rules apply so places where it might be inappropriate to strike up a conversation (i.e. the urinal) are smack-free zones.

Correct me if I'm wrong, guys. You ARE the experts here. Shoot... if we were in the same room right now, I'd extend a hand and give you a pat myself.

Being 40: My Cell Phone is Everything to Me!

2011-04-05T17:33:00.000-05:00

How many times have you heard someone say, "my whole life is in there" when talking about a cell phone or pda? I'm guilty. I've said it many times. God love the inventors of the iPhone for making me more dependent on a small electronic device than any human being should be.

It houses the contact information of hundreds of people including the guy who fixes my car, the gal who does my hair, a great psychic and my gynecologist. It maintains my schedule without which I wouldn't know if I was supposed to be at a baseball game tonight or in class or picking up razor blades and dark chocolate at Target. It tells me when I'm ovulating, alerts me when the Cardinals win (which is rare these days) and keeps me abreast of the latest changes in the St. Louis weather. It occupies my time when I'm bored, helps me stay overly involved in the lives of people I have "friended" on various social media platforms and tells me when the New Kids on the Block have scheduled another concert. I am very fond of my phone. I might even love it. A little bit... It could be said on occasion that my cell phone is everything to me.

But once a year, I have made it a practice to clean out my phone. I've written about my spring cleaning rituals in the past so this is not a surprise. However, in this older and wiser frame of mind, I am thinking I may have been a little quick to pull the trigger in some cases. If indeed my whole life is in my phone, perhaps I should consider that piece of my life before I carelessly erase it from memory.

Recently, I've received a few phone calls and text messages from numbers I didn't recognize because... I had deleted those people from my phone. Frantically, I searched to see if there was any way to figure out who had contacted me. What if it's that guy that I said I never wanted to see again even though that wasn't completely true and I've kind of been hoping he'd eventually come back around? Or what if it's that old friend I haven't heard from in years who is too prideful to apologize even though she knows I'm right and she finally wants to say she's sorry? (GASP!) I may have altered the path of my life forever by deleting part of my WHOLE LIFE from that silly phone.

The advent of instant contact has provided so many conveniences in life. It's amazing how connected we all are. To think there was a time when a man rode a horse across the country to deliver messages written on paper with a feather blows my mind. All I have to do is press a button to reach someone now. Yet all of this technology has also made it easier for us to dismiss people from our lives. We can unfriend them or delete them in the click of a button.

While there are a few folks who I will not name that have been deservedly deleted from my phone and therefore from my whole life, there are others who may have been dismissed too soon. I joked today at work that I sometimes struggle to know whether a moment calls for a hug or backhand. In some respects though, that might ring a bit true. I guess the moral of the story is that we should take a little time before deciding to permanently wipe people out of our phones and out of our lives for good. And we should ALWAYS leave a message after the tone just in case we are the ones who have been deleted.

Being 40: Time Heals

2011-03-22T22:55:00.000-05:00

"Time heals all wounds." There are many variations of the phrase but it was first mentioned by a Greek dramatist around 300BC. He phrased it as "time is the healer of all necessary evils." When you look at it that way the meaning is much more powerful.

I believe we are to endure certain things in life--necessary evils, perhaps-- to help us become who we are intended to be. I believe that the test comes not in the midst of those evils but in how we come through them and get on with life. And I know that it all makes you stronger if you let it.

Sara Evans has a new song out called "A Little Bit Stronger." When I first heard the song, I had two thoughts. The first was that Missouri makes awesome singers. The second was that I knew exactly what it was like to be in a place where you have to wake up every single day, take joy in tiny bits of progress and recognize the moments when you are stronger than you were the day before. Every time I hear the song I think about how far I've come from breakups and losses and tragedies in my life. And, how, even now, I'm a little stronger every day. I don't think that time heals all wounds. But I do think that time heals. And that we all have the opportunity to find strength in adversity.

Being 40: Express Yourself

2011-03-15T23:18:00.000-05:00

Being expressive has gotten me in a lot of trouble over the years. Some people think I don't know when to keep my mouth shut. Others say I should just let some things go.

But the people who really know me and the people who really love me know that my expressiveness comes from a good place. I am a deeply feeling person. I feel strongly and powerfully whether the emotion is joy or sadness or shock or surprise. I love to laugh and sometimes I need a good cry. It helps trust me. I do not supress anything and when I try, I feel lke I might implode.

Today, my friend Mark of brackenphoto, dropped off a dvd full of pictures from my 40th birthday. I love them even though my double chin made a prominent appearance in some of them. I love them because they are mostly candid shots of people that I adore who were having a good time. And I love them because they captured the essence of me. It's a me that I think many people don't stick around long enough to know or just don't care to take the time to know. It's a me who some people embrace and who others can't understand.

If there's one thing I know how to do, it's express myself! And so does my double chin!

Being 40: One Week Down, 51 To Go!

2011-03-06T22:10:00.000-06:00

I'm ba-ack!

Welcome to all of you who have been following the days that lead up to my 40th birhtday. It seems that learning what it means to be 40 is going to take a while. So we are going to spend the next 51 weeks right here, talking about it and talking about life in general and maybe music and food and I'm sure we'll talk about men because I love men.

Until we get started, here are some of my favorite entries that will help you feel at home!

http://michelesingsit.blogspot.com/2009/04/2-12-is-normal.html
http://michelesingsit.blogspot.com/2006/06/men-are-like-cake.html

http://michelesingsit.blogspot.com/2006/02/last-day-on-earth.html
http://michelesingsit.blogspot.com/2008/05/we-have-heart-for-you.html
http://michelesingsit.blogspot.com/2007/11/never-give-up.html

Thanks for being here!

40 Days 'til 40

2011-01-24T16:38:00.000-06:00

In an effort to take my delusional importance in the land of the interwebs one step further, I've decided to take up writing another blog. That's right. I'd guess this is about number seven but this one has a short shelf life. It will only last 40 days. Until I turn 40 years old...

I hope to keep AS I SING IT going during this time. But if you're missing me you can find me here http://michele-40daystil40.blogspot.com/

What I Know

2010-12-21T23:19:00.001-06:00

If there is one thing I know for sure it is that eventually we are all judged by the content of our character. And preserving that character, whatever it may be, in every aspect of our lives determines the legacy that we leave behind. If there is one other thing I know, it's that it is never to late to decide to rebuild your character, to redirect your destiny and to change your ultimate contribution to the world.

Thank God for that.

Hush Your Mouth

2010-12-21T18:57:00.001-06:00

Saying what you mean and meaning what you say are two completely different things. I know a lot of people, like me, who say what they mean all the time. They give honest opinions, offer honest advice and provide an honest perspective. They are the kind of people who are often accused of being harsh or brash and they are sometimes asked not to speak their minds as often as they do.

Meaning what you say, however, has more to do with making a conscious effort to only speak something that you truly believe or feel in your heart. It's so easy to get trapped into saying something just because it seems like the right thing to say, like, "oh what a cute baby!" or "yes, officer, I promise to slow down." And when you want to foster positivity with a loved one, it's just easier to cast the honesty policy aside and say what they want to hear like "oh your new haircut is great!" or "no, your butt doesn't look big." And too often the only way to get what you want is to say what you need to say and not what you really want to say like, "of course, Mr. Smith, I don't mind working the weekends" or... "I love you."

Falling into the trap of saying what might seem right in the moment leads you down a path that might be difficult to depart from later or that might even prove painful in the long run. A moment of satisfaction or the postponement of an uncomfortable conversation is not a good enough reason to deceive the people around you into thinking that you believe it or you feel it or you just plain mean what you say.

So the next time you are presented with an opportunity to mean what you say, either do it... or hush your mouth!

(If you need advice on what you should say instead, comment below or send me an email! I have an answer for everything!)

The Day I Left the Ad Industry

2010-12-15T14:05:00.001-06:00

Industry diehards would say I am weak or lack passion. But the day I left the ad industry might have been the best day of my life. Strong statement, huh?

The advertising business is so much fun. I don't know of any other business except maybe film or music where your clients pay you to have a good time. The creative process is exhilarating to be a part of and fascinating to watch. The production of television and radio and print is rewarding. There is nothing like flipping on the television and seeing a commercial that you helped create or hearing a radio spot done by one of "your" people or seeing a billboard bearing the design and hard work of your coworkers. Every bit of the making of advertising is fun. Even in the midst of the chaos and stress, it is fun.

I loved my work. For 13 years, I served as a project manager on interactive, creative, experiential and social media projects for brands that ranged from dog food to fast food and health care to tourism. I thrived on tight deadlines and a heavy workload. I enjoyed problem solving. I made things happen. Every. Single. Day. And I loved every minute of it.

But there were many reasons it was time for me to hang it up and move on to a new career. First of all, when you are in your twenties and right out of college, it is exciting to spend nights and weekends cranking out work. Eventually that gets old though and, in the ad biz, there's no rest for the weary.

Second, there are a lot of jerks in the biz too. It's ok to be loud, outspoken and demanding if you are a man or if you are the boss but project managers who demand compliance with process and expect respect are short lived. Especially if she's a woman... It is the one industry I have been a part of where the role of the female vastly differs from the role of the male. Women are definitely kept in a box. I can't be penned in. I need room to grow and change and create new ways to do old things. Process is not about hare fast rules. It is about adjusting and stretching and altering the way you do things to suit the project. Besides I'm a big girl. And I'm claustrophobic.

Third, if you allow it, the life will be sucked out of you. Literally. You will set aside your own life for the sake of pleasing others (the boss, the clients, your coworkers). If you are unable to create your own work-life balance, you will not have any because nobody else is going to help you.

Finally, the bottom line is the bottom line. There is an instability in the advertising industry that is blamed on clients. The client cut the budget. The client decided to give that piece of business to another agency. The client wants to do it for no money. The client, the client, the client... I would suggest that the instability in advertising is more likely due to the greed of owners and management and their inability to manage the funds that are coming in the door. Agencies are cost centers of extravagance. Yes, there are a lot of little things that the agency does day in and day out that warrant big retainers but there are a lot of people making one hell of a lot of money while the people who actually do the work don't benefit from those retainers. It's a pretty unbalanced situation.

So I woke up one day and I thought, "If I am pushed one more inch or asked to take on one more responsibility, I'm done." And it happened. If I could have a do-over, I wouldn't just walk out. I would have offered my resignation and got everything in order for everyone else before I left. But you can't live life with regrets. And while quitting a job in a poor economy seems irresponsible, I think that business owners and managers should stop banking on their belief that people should just be thankful to have a job. Yes, they should be but they still deserve to be treated well.

The day I left the ad industry was the beginning of new opportunity. It was crazy and a little scary. But I'm glad I did it. It may just prove to be the best day of my life.

Relationship

2010-12-15T12:36:00.000-06:00

"Relationship" as defined by Merriam Webster is the state of being related or interrelated and the relation connecting or binding participants in a relationship. Interrelated means there is reciprocation of some kind. Therefore, relationships by definition are a two-way experience with a basis of give and receive.

Somewhere along the way, we became a world of entitlement. Either plagued by selfishness or raised in an environment in which others catered to our needs, we learned to take more often than we learned to give. I am rarely one to argue with the "NORMAL" of another person. If all you know is what you know then you cannot be blamed for not knowing. But today, I'm going to argue with somebody's normal.

If you have lived a life of receiving, at some point it is your responsibility to give back to the world around you. This is one of the foundations for building and maintaining healthy relationships with others. I read somewhere that men need to feel appreciated in relationships and that most often when a man strays from his wife it is not because he is attracted to someone else, it is because he feels under-appreciated. I submit that feeling under-appreciated might be the reason most relationships end, not just marriages. If you master the art of giving and receiving, holding on to the people who are important to you will prove a little easier.

Now, I don't care what your circumstances are... Yes, you heard me right. Gentle understanding has just gone out the door. No matter what your circumstances are, you have the ability to give back in some way. It is up to you to figure it out.

Because I am a kind and loving person I have often found myself in relationships that are one sided. I am the giver and they are the takers. I have given of my time, my heart and most often, my money. Every year, I resolve that I am going to put myself first "from now on." But it never happens because I cannot resist working to make others happy. However, I am sticking to my guns this year. If our relationship is based on what I can do for you or what I can give you, it will be ending with 2010.

Relationships should have reciprocation and that is my only expectation. A hug for a hug, a listening ear for a listening ear, love for love, kindness for kindness, diamonds for diamonds... Ok maybe not necessarily diamonds. But you get the idea.

Dear Brendan Ryan

2010-12-02T22:33:00.000-06:00

Dear Brendan Ryan,

I know what it's like when your boss decides you're no longer good enough to do your job. And I know what it's like when your boss hires someone else to do your job without telling you. And I know what it's like to be employed but not really have a job to do any more.

I empathize with you, Brendan, because I like you.

There are three things you can do now. You can quit. You can fight to keep your job. Or, you can move on gracefully. I am not really in the position to tell you which of those things to do because I took the easy way out and quit. But I can tell you this: no matter the outcome, you must be confident in who you are and what you know about yourself. Don't let this situation define you. And don't let the underhandedness of the business or of your bosses make you bitter.

You are good. In fact, I see flashes of greatness in you. And they probably do too. Truthfully, I think your personality is just too big for the Cardinals. There are only a couple people allowed to stand out and rise above in this town. Sadly, you aren't one of them. (Neither was I.)

Nobody deserves a backstabbing after he's worked so hard to bring success to the community around him. But everybody deserves to be happy. If I was going to give you any advice, it would be to hold on to your happy and make that a priority. I'm thinkin' about you man!

Sincerely,

Michele, a big fan (but no bigger than anybody else in the bleachers, because that wouldn't be fair)

P.S. If you do somehow stick around, lay low. That's all I got.

2010-10-08T15:29:00.000-05:00

This video was created last year but the message is powerful. I don't "celebrate" Columbus Day because I it is my duty to honor the true history. Do you celebrate it or not? And why?

No Time Like the Present

2010-10-07T20:38:00.000-05:00

There's no such thing as the perfect time. Waiting to do anything until the moment is precisely right or you have all your ducks in a row could be postponing the blessings of your life or the blessings you have to offer others. While it's not necessary to be reckless, it is wise to seize the day.

So if you are waiting to propose until you have your act together completely, just know that you'll probably never completely have your act together. And she deserves to know that all you think about is spending the rest of your life with her.

If you are waiting to have a baby until the time is right, keep in mind that you'll always have financial responsibilities and something else is always going to come up.

Your dream vacation can stay a dream or you can just do it. Taking off on a Friday afternoon to golf with your son and your dad could wait while you work 60 hours a week. Volunteering to serve Thanksgiving meals to the homeless is an opportunity that comes back around every year so you can afford to just talk about it one more time.

You might have an AWOL duck and the present might not be perfect. But there's no time like now to spend with your family or to say "I love you" or to donate to your favorite charity.

There's no time like the present.

101 Reasons to VOTE FOR MICHELE!

2010-09-13T15:31:00.002-05:00

The journey to this point has been a bit emotional for me. But now that I am so close to actually singing on stage in Nashville, TN, I can't imagine not winning "Cornbread Idol." Yes, registration takes time, but once you sign up, you can vote for me once a day, every day and help me fulfill my dream. The back story of all of this will come out soon enough. For now, here are just a few reasons why you might want to vote for me.

If you've ever had an "impossible" dream
You've fulfilled your "impossible" dream so you know it can happen
You regret not going for it
You believe that it's never to late to make your dreams come true
You don't fit the mold
If you've ever done something that people said you couldn't
If you believe in 2nd chances
You know that if you had a 2nd chance you would take it too
If you ever thought about starting over
If you ever did start over and you know it's worth the fight
If you are a parent who is teaching his/her children that they can do anything their hearts desire
If you are the child of a parent who encouraged you to do whatever your heart desired
You are my friend
If I was ever a friend to you
If you would like to be my friend
You are my family
You are like family to me
You know that I love you
You are an acquaintance
You are a co-worker or a former co-worker
You are a co-worker that would like to be a former co-worker (send me to Nashville!)
You are returning a favor
You are hoping for a favor in return
You feel obligated
You think it will make me stop emailing you
You are a lurker on my blog or my twitter or my facebook page
If I ever meant something to you
If you insist that I mean nothing to you & you just want me to go away (see #21)
You love me
You hate me & you want to cancel out the negativity by doing something good
You believe I am a good person
You aren't sure if I am good but you are willing to give me a chance to prove that I am
You believe in finding true happiness
You know that sometimes it's about the journey & not what happens in the end
You know that I would do it for you
If anyone has ever told you, "you have such a pretty face"
If anyone has ever told you that pretty isn't everything
If anyone has ever told you that you're too old
If anyone has told you that you're not old enough
If you've always wanted to make your parents proud
You hope to leave a legacy to your children
And you want to be able to help provide for your aging parents
You enjoy a really good story
You have heard my other really good stories & you know I'll come back to STL with something worth hearing
You have ever wanted to prove someone wrong
Your life is a country song
You just broke up with your ex, lost your dog or drank your last shot of whiskey
You think I might be the only redeeming quality that country music will ever have
You also wonder if Kris Kristofferson broke his leg jumping out of a helicopter (He will be there too!)
You have ever shouted YEE HAW (even if you were liquored up)
You are anything like me...
You love Reese's peanut butter cups
Ice cream is your greatest weakness
You love the game of baseball
You wear your patriotism on your sleeve
The United States National Anthem gets you choked up
You understand the story behind the National Anthem
You know that the best part of the National Anthem is when the smoke clears and the flag was still there
You played Division III sports so you know what it's like to play for the love of the game
You went to college in your hometown
You changed majors more than once while you tried to figure out who you wanted to be when you grew up
You are still trying to figure out who you want to be & you're already grown up
You remember what your first time doing anything felt like
You wonder how this can possibly be your life
You look in the mirror & think about who you could have been
You look in the mirror & you wonder where that double chin & that gray hair came from
You enjoy spontaneous road trips
You think you could live your life out of a suitcase & be happy
You wonder how people can live their lives out of a suitcase
You've never taken a risk in your life that was worth taking
You know that the best things in life come from taking risks
Every day you wake up thankful that this is your life
Every day you think "something's gotta give"
Caffeine is the only thing that keeps you going some days
You crave.... anything.
If it's hard for you to be selfish
If you struggle to ask others for help
If you would rather just do it yourself
If you think it's better to give than to receive
If you can never remind people that they owe you money
If you owe me money (vote every day & we're even)
If I ever made an impact in your life
If I ever helped you
If I ever cooked you a meal or cleaned your house
If I kept your dog or your child while you were on vacation
If I came to your wedding shower
If I attended your wedding
If I was in your wedding (then you should vote at least twice)
If I came to your baby shower
If I threw your baby shower
You want to make a difference in the world
You want to help me make a difference in the world
You think timing is everything
Music moves you
You are passionate about anything
You wish someone would lend you a hand
Everybody else is doing it
You believe you reap what you sow
You are just a really nice person
You can't help yourself
You wish it was you...

Here's the link to register & vote for me If you sign up and click don't email me and don't share my email you will not get spam.
http://wil92.upickem.net/engine/Votes.aspx?PageType=VOTING&contestid=20961

a "personal" note just for you

2010-09-08T22:22:00.001-05:00

a "personal" note just for you:

Thank you for keeping a watchful eye over me. Whether you're driven by obligation or curiosity or genuine care & concern doesn't matter to me. In fact, in this case I believe that ignorance is bliss. I'd rather not know your motivation. I know you're here. There was a time when that would have made me certifiably crazy. But I've learned to take what others have to offer me.

hate

2010-08-23T22:32:00.000-05:00

Hate is a powerful emotion. I do my best to steer clear of it. I detest situations. I try to assign my anger to an action and not to a person. I work to reserve my dislikes for experiences and not for any living, breathing creature. I don't want to hate. I don't want to harbor negative feelings. But I am not perfect.

I have decided to stick with love. Hate is too great a burden to bear. ~Martin Luther King, Jr.

Hate cages all the good things about you. ~Terri Guillemets

Hatred is one long wait. ~René Maran

hatred bounces ~e.e. cummings

You lose a lot of time, hating people. ~Marian Anderson

I imagine one of the reasons people cling to their hates so stubbornly is because they sense, once hate is gone, they will be forced to deal with pain. ~James Baldwin

Love the Way You Lie

2010-08-23T19:25:00.002-05:00

I read one review of this video that basically said you want to look away because it's so violent but you can't because it's so sexy. That's the perfect depiction of an abusive relationship. The parties involved become trapped in a vicious cycle.

Oh Brother

2010-08-15T13:15:00.000-05:00

Years ago, I journeyed to my beginnings, searching for my birthfamily and eventually discovering that we are a product of our environment and of our decisions and not necessarily of our genetics. I chronicled that journey on this blog. (The links follow.) Throughout that experience, my birthmom and I exchanged many letters and emails and pictures. And I learned that I came from a very large family that included siblings and step-siblings. I always wanted brothers so I was excited to learn that two of my siblings & step-siblings were brothers. In the end, I never met my extended family face to face. But every detail and every image from that frame of time is burned in my brain.

Flash forward to this past weekend... As I stood in the middle of the dance area on the patio at a downtown St. Louis bar, I looked out over the crowd. Suddenly, I recognized a face. How did I know him? And then, it hit me. It was my step-brother. Quickly, I grabbed a friend, pointed him out and exclaimed, "Oh my God, I think that's my brother!"

I have to tell you that my friends and I often joke about seeing my random family members when we are out and about. Tall, skinny, long-haired old men are usually "Wilson," my birthfather. Dark-skinned, American Indian types (like Kyle Lohse) are usually my brothers. It's a joke and we have fun with it. So when I told my friend Kate that I thought this stranger at the bar was my brother, she laughed at me. Until she realized I was serious.

Soon, Kate chased him down and asked him for his name. Reluctantly, he obliged and Kate stammered around trying to come up with an explanation for approaching him. Eventually, I collected myself and joined them. I warned that we were about to get a little deep for a Friday night at a southside bar. He smiled nervously. "I recognized you from a picture," I said. "See, your stepmom Denice is my birthmom."

He paused. And then he threw his arms around me and hugged me for a long time. His smile grew broad. We talked for twenty minutes or so before he asked me to call him and gave me his phone number. Soon we will spend some time together and get to know each other a little. He promised that meeting with him would be a softer introduction to the family than the first time. He left me with another long hug, encouraging me to contact him. His name is Dan.

My story just keeps on unfolding. And now, I'm the nervous one.

links to the journey blogs:
http://michelesingsit.blogspot.com/2005/10/journey-to-beginning.html

http://michelesingsit.blogspot.com/2005/11/part-ii-journey-to-beginning.html
http://michelesingsit.blogspot.com/2005/11/part-iii-journey-to-beginning.html
http://michelesingsit.blogspot.com/2005/12/journey-to-beginning-final-chapter.html

Life & Baseball

2010-08-15T12:32:00.003-05:00

(Author's note: I was prompted to write this after the Cards vs. Cubs game Friday night. I met my brother for the first time after that game. And I was surrounded by my friends from the bleachers when it happened. See, life changing events do happen around baseball.)

People often wonder how a motley crew from various corners of the state can grow from being baseball fans who just happen to sit in the same section of a stadium to a sort of family. Over the last ten years, I've been a St. Louis Cardinals season ticket holder and I've experienced the transition from a fan enjoying a Sunday afternoon with like-minded people to a member of the St. Louis Cardinals family.

Sharing high fives and hugs and toasting with giant cups of beer organically brings people together. Bonding through the joys of victory is natural and normal. Disappointing losses, bad calls and mutually hated rivals run a close second to happy times when it comes to creating connection among sports fans.

But, in the course of a season, life still happens. In between games, and sometimes during games, life-changing events occur and thanks to timing season ticket holders, who spend a good portion of their weeks around one another, end up sharing those moments with each other. Engagements, marriages, divorces, births, deaths, new jobs, new homes, personal wins and losses... They happen. And baseball goes on and sometimes your fellow baseball fans help extend the happiness of those moments or help you through the tough times.

Throughout our ten years, we've lost two bleacher friends and two players that we loved to tragic untimely deaths. We've watched most of the guys get married and some of them get divorced. There have been many babies born. Some of us have been unemployed together and many have changed jobs. We've made new friends and heckled many a right fielder from the Reds or the Astros or the Brewers. We've laughed immeasurably, cried many tears, hugged a lot and sometimes hated each other. We've traveled to other states to see our boys play, celebrated year after year in playoff runs and enjoyed the sweetest victory of a World Series. Tragedy and comedy, victory and loss, happiness and sadness... We have been through it all. Together. And sometimes it was about baseball. And sometimes it was just about life.

Precisely the Wrong Time

2010-07-26T00:20:00.000-05:00

Did you ever wonder why you don't meet certain people sooner in your life or why your path averts the path of another until a seemingly precise juncture? I do. I wonder all the time. But more expressly when the timing seems to be precisely wrong.

I believe we are given many paths from which to choose and that, while our destiny may be predetermined, the route by which we get there is determined by us. But I also believe that along our journey we are given tools and guides and are presented with relationships that we need to get us through that leg of the journey or through the rest of the adventure. I don't believe in bad timing. We are given exactly what we need and who we need when we need it.

But it's confusing sometimes. Often, I've taken a step back to examine my life and questioned the introduction of a new friend or the reunion with an old friend. I've hesitated to welcome opportunities or the chance at a relationship because life is either going really well or it's too messy to start something different. And I've wasted a lot of time trying to figure it all out instead of just enjoying or enduring the moment.

I've been taught that for everything there is a season. Maybe that season is a week long and maybe it's a lifetime. But we don't have the luxury of knowing when things will start or end. No matter how hard we fight to control it all, we don't decide the seasons. We also don't get to weigh in on the other lives into which we are thrown. When others need us, a request doesn't show up on our doorsteps. It just happens.

So rather than wondering, perhaps we should just be aware and recognize. It may seem wrong or difficult or it may be one big party. But it all happens for a reason in the right season.

Work Isn't Everything

2010-07-21T16:48:00.000-05:00

Most people keep pictures in their offices to remind them of WHY they work so hard. I keep mine to remind me of what else there is. Work isn’t everything.

My Ride

2010-07-19T18:52:00.000-05:00

The instances in which I allow myself to be selfish are very few and far between. I choose to put others ahead of myself in nearly all things except my music. I did that once and every day when I wake up at the crack of dawn I wonder how famous I would be if I wouldn’t have done that. It’s my one regret in life. So when the opportunity presents itself for me to perform, I carefully select the people that will be by my side in that moment. There are very few people invited to go along for my ride.

My parents, my sister, my nephew and a few of my closest friends are usually among the pool from which I select because they know my routine. They know that I need to arrive at the location very early to acclimate myself to the venue, to adjust to the temperature in the room, to familiarize myself with my surroundings. They know that I prefer to drive myself. They know that I consume almost a whole bottle of water before I sing and that at some point, I stop talking until after I sing. They know I won’t eat until I’m done and that I say a prayer and recite the words out loud just before standing before the crowd. They know that I stay for every event after I sing, at least for a little while, because most often my payment is “in kind” and not in cash and the experience to me is always worth the exchange. I have seen things thanks to my singing that I never would have otherwise, like the NASCAR truck series and the National Dog Show in Philadelphia and the NCAA Wrestling Championships. They respect my routine. And that is why they are chosen.

If I ask you to come along for my ride, it is not because I want to you be in awe of me. I don’t need the applause or even compliments. It is because I want to share my experience with you. I want to let you in to the one aspect of my life that I guard and protect and reserve for a special few. And I know that the event will surprise you or enrich your life in some way and not just because you are spending time with me.

But please remember that this is my ride. Not yours. It’s selfish. Yes. But in this case, I am allowed.

Let's Get Deep

2010-07-12T12:43:00.000-05:00

Women Unite: The Pad is Back

2010-07-11T23:36:00.000-05:00

Pulling a new shirt out of the bag, I unfolded it gently and laid it on the bed. I hadn't tried the emerald green beauty on before I made the purchase. As I reviewed my fantastic find, I noticed a slight bulge at the shoulder. Slowly, I lifted the shirt closer to examine it. The horror! Hiding in my shirt, one in each arm, were... SHOULDER PADS.

WHY would anyone put shoulder pads in a shirt? We have done this before. Do we not remember what it looked like? Well, THIS is what it looked like:

She looks angry. Doesn't she? I am not sure who introduced shoulder pads to women's clothing the first time but it was wrong. What is attractive about a woman with the shoulders of a linebacker? It is clear that these sneaky designers are doing it again. They are slipping bulky chunks of foam into the sleeves of our shirts, ladies. We cannot let this go on. We must ban together to ban the shoulder pads. WOMEN UNITE!

Reflective & True

2010-07-11T11:46:00.001-05:00

I have a short list of legendary musicians who I'd like to see perform live in my lifetime. The list includes Billy Joel, Phil Collins, Madonna, James Taylor, Carole King and many more. Last night I was fortunate to kill two birds with one stone by seeing James Taylor and Carole King in concert together.

Their music is so reflective and true. From the time I was about 12 years old, I loved it. It brought a peacefulness to my world. I like to say that for every season of your life, there is a James Taylor song to provide the tune. And never has that been more true for me than right now.

This video is not from last night but it's a gentle demonstration of what I mean. Some of the lyrics follow.

So close your eyes
You can close your eyes, it's all right
I don't know no love songs
And I can't sing the blues anymore
But I can sing this song
And you can sing this song
When I'm gone
It won't be long before another day
We gonna have a good time
And no one's gonna take that time away
You can stay as long as you like

Hiatus Ending

2010-07-06T23:58:00.000-05:00

Over the last few months, blogging lost a bit of its luster. When I first started this thing, people questioned the openness with which I wrote but I have long said I live my life like an open book, with nothing to hide and so much to share. So I typed away every month, offering my opinions and beliefs and ideas to the world.

When life is infused with strong emotions or excitement or drama, it's easy to blog. When you can make light of the not-so-great moments or make lemonade from your harvest of lemons, the words seem to flow from your fingertips. And it's fun. It's a release. Often times, it's therapy.

Then there came a time last month when it all suddenly seemed deeply personal. I could not share what was going on in my head and my heart with the people around me, much less blog.

But the hiatus is ending, my faithful readers. Today, I type. And again tomorrow. As I get back in the swing of things, my writing is either going to prove to be brilliant or it will completely suck. But I'm glad you're here and I will do my best to get my blogging tail in gear.

Bunnies!

2010-05-27T19:42:00.000-05:00

Few words are needed for this entry. All I will say is, I am glad I decided to allow a mama rabbit to burrow into the center of the backyard and let nature take it's course. It's been a JOY to watch these little creatures come to life! We have bunnies!

Three Inch Heels

2010-05-18T23:40:00.000-05:00

I wore three inch heels today. Calvin Klein wedges. They are hot shoes. I looked damn good. And I felt good too. There is something to be said for getting yourself together to boost your self confidence. They always say when you look good, you feel good. Today provided proof positive. It's true.

High heels have always made me feel good. I am 5'10" so it's not about being taller. There's power in the pumps. There's strength and sexiness and satisfaction in knowing that people pay attention when you walk by in a pair of Steve Madden gems.

And I love buying them. Three of my closet shelves are lined with two and three and four inch heels. I'm no Imelda Marcos but I may have a bit of an addiction. Most of them just sit there because my prematurely arthritic knees don't always allow for fabulous shoes. There was a time in my life too when I dated a short guy who hated that I was taller then him. (I know... That's a red flag. But he was so pretty.) So I traded in my pumps and wedges for ballet flats for a couple of years. It frustrated my mom to no end.

Growing up, I'd watch my mom strap on her high heels when she'd go out on Friday nights with my dad. Mom towered over dad by a few inches but she wore gorgeous pumps and high-heeled, strappy sandals. My dad loved it. You could see in the way he looked at her and the way he would wrap his arm around her waist and rest his hand on her hip that he thought she was sexy. Back then, it grossed me out completely; but now, I remember their interactions fondly. She set a fantastic example for me. She always said I should be proud of being tall and wear it well. "You should never hide your height," mom said.

See, sometimes, I do exactly what my mom says. On occasion that leads to a night of ice bags on my knees. But every feel good moment makes it worth it. All hail the three inch heels!

Leaving Las Vegas & Sinnin' at Home

2010-05-18T08:33:00.003-05:00

For years people tried to convince me that a trip to Las Vegas was exactly what I needed. The stories relayed from friends to me about their Vegas experiences sounded wildly fun and filled with sleepless nights and streets abounding with delicious people. How could a girl like me resist a temptaion-laden vacation with her best friends.

And so we planned and we got a fantastic deal. (Only later did we discover that cheap flights and inexpensive hotel rooms is the way they suck you in!) We decided to take a long weekend and informally celebrate a 40th birthday.

Initially, the city was overwhelming. So much to see and experience... And so little time. It's no wonder that many people only sleep for 3 hours a night. If you're sleeping, you're missing something and you don't want to miss anything in Vegas. There are shows in every hotel. In fact, every hotel itself is a show. As one of my friends said, once they pick a theme in Vegas, they stick to it so everything is very elaborate.

I enjoyed the sights and sounds of sin city and every day, I laughed until I cried in the company of two of the best friends a girl could have. But the cost of even a bottle of water was outrageous. The expense of just every day, not to mention all the "stuff" you do on vacation was ridiculous. Soon, I began to look around and think, "there is nothing here that I can't find at home." We have plenty of shows and casinos and bright lights and naked girls in St. Louis. (There's a burlesque show at least once a day in my bathroom...) There's a lot more money in Vegas and a lot more hype. But that's it.

In all, it was an experience and much fun was had but Vegas isn't for me. After 15-1/2 hours of travel, we finally got home and I don't think I'll ever go back. I'll never say "never" but for now, I'm gonna do my sinnin' right here at home.

Thinking of You

2010-04-29T08:14:00.005-05:00

“Somewhere
there is someone
that dreams of your smile,

and finds in your presence
that life is worthwhile,

so when you are lonely
remember it’s true,

someone
somewhere
is thinking of you.”

Memory Lane

2010-04-25T23:32:00.005-05:00

Once upon a time, a starry-eyed girl sat alone on the front porch of her parents home and dreamed of the possibilities. She believed that all things were possible and that she could do anything she tried. While her confidence sometimes hid behind her awkwardness, she never doubted who she was or her God-given abilities. She never questioned the possibility of success or fame or fortune or family & friends. She knew that one day she would have it all.

And then, she grew up.

Often, I find comfort in reminiscing. I hold most of the memories of my childhood so dear and, in the cases when the memories aren't so clear, the people serve as a reminder of when life was pure and the possibilities were endless. I realize most people aren't as sentimental as I am. Oh, but if they knew the part that the each have in keeping me grounded and helping me find pieces of happiness now and again, maybe they would be. Although we may rarely talk or see each other, they are the ones I turn to when I feel sad or broken. They are the ones I lean on when I'm scared or feeling lost. They are the ones who help rebuild me when I'm starting over once again. And they do it without even knowing it.

Miranda Lambert sings a song called THE HOUSE THAT BUILT ME. It's all about how she wants to go back to the house where she grew up so she can remember who she is. It touches my heart. I get it completely. Some days a quick journey down memory lane is all it takes to remind me that one day I'll have it all. And maybe I'm closer than I think.

God's Gift of Dancing with the Stars

2010-03-21T22:38:00.002-05:00

On Monday, March 22nd, a new season of Dancing with the Stars will begin. They claim to have the most controversial cast of dancers ever. I'm sure the set is bubbling with the anticipation of potential wardrobe malfunctions, intense competition and judges spats. But all that buzz pales in comparison to the growing expectancy in our home.

The only DWTS fan I know that's bigger than my mom is my dad. They often disagree, much like Bruno & Len, but they usually root for the same pair to win. Without fail, my dad is on the couch a half hour before the show starts, making sure the television channel is secure and my mom gathers her game-time treats in her corner of the room. It's an event. Every week.

As my time living with my parents draws to a close, I'm saddened. I had no idea, at the time, what a rewarding experience it would be nor that I would discover so much about my parents. For example, I would have never guessed that my dad had a passion for figure skating and ballroom dancing.

Not many people in their 30s would want to move back in with their 70-something parents but now, I can't imagine living apart from them. There are moments when I could use some alone time, when I'd rather not share the bathroom or the tv and when I'd do things completely differently. But there are more often times that I can't imagine being alone.

Tonight, my mom said to me, "Michele, God has given you so much." She's right. I am grateful for the last three years. And I will be equally as grateful for Monday nights without Dancing with the Stars!

39 Things that Make Me Thankful

2010-02-24T17:19:00.004-06:00

For my 39^th birthday, I decided to tackle the task of creating a list of 39 things for which I am truly thankful. The parameters I set for myself were fairly simple: obvious & general entries like “my family” or “my friends” are not allowed; be specific. As I began to make notes about the things that are special to me in my daily life, I surprised myself.

Here are the 39 things I am thankful for this year, as they came to me, in no particular order:

My nephew Kirk’s laughter, which is the quickest route to happy on even the worst days.
Family feuds, during which the evidence of how much each person cares seems to rise to the top
Workplace crises that give me an opportunity to excel
My scenic & often refreshing drive through Forest Park every day
The inspirational story of courage & strength in the United States National anthem & the opportunity it has provided for me.
My parents’ love for all things sports, which they passed it on to me
My elementary education where I spent a good portion of my life learning & growing with many people whom I still call “friend.”
Hot summer days when the only beverage that can quench my thirst is an ice-cold beer (I get that from my mom.)
Growing up in a time when you could ride your bike in the neighborhood & play outside all day long with your friends without any fear of not returning home before the street lights came on
The almost neon green indoor/outdoor carpeting on the dock at Ant’s Creek Resort at Table Rock Lake where I spent many a summer fishing with my dad, my cousins, my sister & my friends.
The boxes & boxes of photos kept by my mom & by me because they fill in the blanks as memories start to fade.
Facebook. Without it, I’d never have gotten back in touch with my best friends from grade school & high school, the man who discovered my voice & the Belgian boy I kissed when I was 19.
Twitter. A daily recording of my every mood & thought & a lot of the things that Mrs. Walsh said I should never put on paper.
Speaking of Mrs. Walsh… I wouldn’t be here right now in this very space if she hadn’t told me that I shouldn’t do what I wanted to do which was to write my every thought down on paper. & the blog goes on…
Cake. I love cake when it’s rainy & cold. I love cake when I am not supposed to have it. I love cake when it’s compared to men (see http://michelesingsit.blogspot.com/2006/06/men-are-like-cake.html ). I love cake.
Section 509 in the old Busch Stadium where my love of baseball was developed as well as friendships & where some of my most memorable moments of the last 10 years took place. I miss the old stadium terribly.
Diet Dr. Pepper is often the only thing that gets me through the day. That & my amazing imagination…
My 2^nd grade boyfriend, my boss with whom I had a relationship, my ex whose nieces I helped raise & every other guy I thought might be the one because in each situation I discovered my weaknesses & harnessed my strengths & learned to never settle for someone who is settling for you.
Waking up because you never know when you might not.
Air, Water, Food & all other things that sustain me.
Pain. Although there are days when I am not thankful. It’s a testament to where I’ve been & evidence of a rewarding journey.
Volleyball, a game I love to play & teach.
Basketball, a game I played & not very well but which took me around the world & afforded me experiences I often didn’t deserve.
My faithful friends
Fresh, creamy Reese’s peanut butter cups
Georgian Cheese Pie, my special recipe
The mornings my mom spent teaching me to cook breakfast & the afternoons when she taught me to iron my dad’s handkerchiefs
2007, the year I wish I could wipe out of my history. I know it existed for a reason.
Never being saddled with a nickname aside from my last name.
My 4th birthday present, with whom I share my birthday every year. Denise.
My birth mom for her courage & my birth father for his carelessness.
“Be Careful. Have Fun” The four words my dad says every time I leave my parents’ house.
That my mom cries about everything & so do I
Lack of clarity that keeps me searching
Moments of clarity that confirm that I should keep searching
Childlike faith that helps me believe that, at their core, people are good.
Feelings. Much better than numbness. I know from experience.
Debbye Turner who is a great example of what can happen when you don’t give up on your dreams & you hold out for what you deserve.
Birthdays. They each start a new year & a new chapter in life.

Four Months

2010-02-05T14:37:00.000-06:00

“Congratulations!” the nurse said as she rushed back into the room and thrust my paperwork under my nose.

Tears streamed down my cheeks immediately.

The nurse looked up. “I’m sorry?” she asked softly.

Single and pregnant. It seems that the moment you say out loud, “that will never be me,” it is you and the shock is overwhelming. Truthfully, news came as no surprise. I knew for days that I was pregnant. I just needed official confirmation. I notified the baby’s father only after I had called my three best friends.

The details of every day after that are vivid in my memory even ten years later. The changes in my body were undeniable and I loved pregnancy. But through the experience, I learned some of the hardest lessons in my life.

My baby never took a breath outside the womb. I never held him or saw his face. In fact he never grew larger than the size of a lemon. His time with me was short-lived but I still cherish every day we had. I am grateful for what he taught me. I am thankful for the joy and the sorrow.

Had all gone as planned, tomorrow would have been his 10^th birthday.

I will never forget, not even for a moment, that four months of my life. What a profound impact! Happy Birthday little guy.

The Best of 2009

2010-01-28T14:16:00.002-06:00

Looking back, I realized that my writing from 2009 leaves a lot to be desired. Perhaps I should commit to blogging a little more often... In the meantime, here's a list of blogs from the last year to peruse and enjoy.

http://michelesingsit.blogspot.com/2009/01/say-what-you-need-to-say.html

http://michelesingsit.blogspot.com/2009/02/february-6th.html

http://michelesingsit.blogspot.com/2009/02/birthday-time-again.html

http://michelesingsit.blogspot.com/2009/03/play-ball.html

http://michelesingsit.blogspot.com/2009/04/2-12-is-normal.html

http://michelesingsit.blogspot.com/2009/05/finding-yourself.html

http://michelesingsit.blogspot.com/2009/06/repost-you-mustnt-mess-me-about.html

http://michelesingsit.blogspot.com/2009/07/happy-birthday-to-land-of-free-home-of.html

http://michelesingsit.blogspot.com/2009/08/go-to-bed.html

http://michelesingsit.blogspot.com/2009/09/field-of-dreams.html

http://michelesingsit.blogspot.com/2009/10/baseballs-best-times.html

http://michelesingsit.blogspot.com/2009/11/early-detection-can-save-your-life.html

Committing to Commitment

2010-01-28T13:31:00.000-06:00

For years, I have committed to a non-committal life-style. It makes life easier because there's no fear of breaking rules or breaking hearts or breaking the bank thanks to a crashing stock market. And in keeping with that way of life, I stopped making New Year's resolutions. Why promise the world or yourself that you are going to change your life or just your hairstyle in honor of a new year when you know that three months from now, you will break your promise?

But as 2009 came to a close, I gave a lot of thought to my care-free, good-time-Charlie life. What an amazing time, I've had! There's nothing like waking up to freedom every day and passing your time on a whim. In spite of the trouble I've endured and my own personal heartache, my life has been so good. All said, I am blessed.

This year has already introduced great change into my life. I believe that if you want certain things, you must create an environment in which those things are possible. If you want to have a family, for example, you must create a home. If you want to cultivate your friendships, you must exude warmth and tenderness and care and concern. If you want great riches or great satisfaction, you must dedicate yourself to your work. In all things, you must open a door to opportunity, extend a hand to receive favor and embrace life so that it doesn't pass you by.

This week, I applied to adopt a puppy. Tomorrow, I will pay a visit to a duplex that I hope to buy. Next week, who knows? I'm committed to giving commitment all I've got in 2010 and I'm prepared for this leg of the journey to be as enjoyable and fulfilling as the last.

Early Detection Can Save Your Life

2009-11-17T11:05:00.004-06:00

Shortly after breast cancer awareness month ended, new US guidelines for mammograms were announced. People across the country joined forces throughout the month of October to remind women of the importance of breast health. We walked walks and talked about breast self exams and encouraged women to get mammograms in an effort to increase early detection and save lives. And then THEY tell us, we shouldn't really worry until we're 50.

Really?

Last month, I found three lumps in my right breast. Because I make a regular habit of pretending like everything is just great, I considered ignoring them for a moment. But then I remembered my friend and my cousin who are breast cancer survivors. Both of them found lumps before they turned 50. My friend was in her early 40s and my cousin was in her early 30s. I remembered my aunt who is a breast cancer survivor as well.

I remembered when they shaved their heads as they endured chemotherapy. I remembered when they were too weak to walk the walks themselves. I remembered when they were scared and when I was scared for them. I remembered their courage and their defiance toward the disease. And I remembered the early detection which is what ultimately saved their lives.

Here are a few quick facts from the American Breast Cancer Foundation:

More than eighty percent of women who develop breast cancer have no family history of the disease...one out of eight American women will get breast cancer.
When breast cancer is found in its earliest stages, your chances of surviving are at least 90 percent or better.
While it is true that the majority, up to 78%, of the disease is found in women in [their 50s], there is still a significant number of cases found in women under the age of thirty. In fact, most cancer found in younger women is more advanced.
Most breast cancers have been present for 8 - 10 years before a lump is found.

I am happy to report that I have fibroid cysts, not cancer. I am very fortunate. Eliminating the option for mammograms before 50 and essentially making light of the importance of early detection is criminal as far as I am concerned.

Keep doing those self exams ladies. And keep pushing your doctors, your insurance companies and your legislators to encourage early detection and mammograms for all women.

Life Online

2009-11-12T20:25:00.005-06:00

The internet is good for so many things. The world wide web literally brings the world into your home. It opens the door to far away lands, new perspectives and innovative ideas. It introduces you to people whose paths you may have never crossed. Ideally, the internet expands your horizons, enlightens and educates you and makes life a little more fun.

Because it's so cool, the internet can suck you in and consume your time. In fact, in some instances it may consume your life. And after hours and hours online, meeting people and chatting and sharing ideas, the internet can become a big part of your life.

The beauty of the internet is that it's faceless. Of course, people post pictures and build profiles but the internet allows you to be anybody you want to be. Often it's easier to talk online too. It's sort of like going out for a night on the town in a foreign city that you'll probably never visit again. You let your guard down. You let your inner self come out without fear of judgment or repercussion. Online it's easier to piece together what you'll say because you get to type it and delete it and type it again before you hit send.

And because of the newness and the easiness, people are just more likable online. You get to know them quicker without all of the nonsense of every day getting in the way. Before you know it, your friend count has dramatically increased.

The problem is, that is just your life online. These are your online experiences with your online "friends." And it is real life... But real life also includes face to face, tactile experiences.

People will disagree with me but you cannot live your whole life online. You just can't. And I think doing so gives you a warped sense of reality, sometimes of what's appropriate and it bolsters your expectations sometimes making them quite unrealistic.

Life online is good. But it is not the only life. And it should not be your whole life.

Belly Bomber Birthday

2009-11-09T14:00:00.007-06:00

Normally, I would bake cupcakes or cookies for an office birthday. But when the birthday boy or girl doesn't have a sweet tooth, one must find a suitable substitute. That was the situation at work today and I thought a White Castle Crave CaseTM might hit the spot.

When I was a little girl, White Castle burgers were a treat. Once every few Fridays, on our way home from a night with the family at my grandpa's, my dad would announce that we were stopping to pick up some "belly bombers." I loved the cheeseburgers with no onions which goes totally against the concept of the White Castle sliders. But dad would order them and we would wait for an eternity for my special order to come up.

Today's special treat took roughly 15 minutes and, as expected, it did hit the spot. I've heard it said that you don't have to tell people that you're cool if you're really cool. And now I know it's true. All you have to do is bring a Crave Case into work for some guy's birthday.

White Castle Crave Case is a trademark of the White Castle Management Company.

Deep Breaths

2009-10-21T23:45:00.004-05:00

My chest tightens.
My heart pounds deeply.
Tension wraps around my neck.
Deep breaths.

Psychology and physiology
wage war on the battle ground
that is my body.
Deep breaths.

Deep breaths fail
to release me from the grips
of my own anxiety.
Deep breaths.

The more I think
the more desperate I feel.
Why can't I make it stop?
Deep breaths.

Deep breaths.
Deep breaths.
Deep breaths.
eventually help me escape.

Give What You Want

2009-10-21T21:00:00.003-05:00

I've heard it said that we attract what we project. And I've heard it said that if we desire change for our lives, we must emit positivity into the atmosphere. Give what you want, in order to get it.

While I like the idea and I believe in the power of prayer as well as the power of positivity, I struggle to figure out how I repeatedly end up in certain situations. There are so many days when I look around and wonder "how is this my life?"

What signs do you project when you consistently command the attention of dirty, drunken men over 50? How do I stop emitting the "don't-worry-I'll-cover-your-ass" vibe? And is there something about me that screams "she's not very smart?" Because certain people keep trying to pull one over on me.

I don't see the world through rose-colored glasses and my cup is not always half full. But if this keeps up, I may pull those glasses on and view my cup from another perspective.

Baseball's Best Times

2009-10-04T00:31:00.007-05:00

They were some of the best times. And they revolved around a sport I never played and a group of strangers who became like family. They were some of the best times.

On any evening of the week, we would gather on the worn, gray wooden benches in section 509 of the old Busch Stadium in St. Louis. The gamers, the regulars, the season ticket holders occupied rows one through 12, seats one through six. Our seats were located next to the shallow, dirt-filled pit where the relief pitchers stayed in wait for their turns to take the mound.

Little space lived between the rows. Often times, the person in front of you sat square between your knees and if someone wanted to pass through, you’d have to stand atop the bench. Close quarters, to say the least. And it was the proximity of those strangers that accelerated the getting-to-know you process. Before long, we not only knew each other but we cared about one another.

Back then, the fans and the baseball players got know each other as well. The bullpen sat level to the bleacher section. Players often meandered over to the fence and chatted with the fans. They rarely signed autographs but they engaged season ticket holders in conversations, shook hands, laughed at jokes and interacted on a regular basis with the people who supported them on a regular basis. And just as we had gotten to know each other, we eventually got to know those players. We knew their families and signed cards for their birthdays.

In the good times, we celebrated together. A couple of years in a row, the team clinched their division at home. Each time, there was a party at our bar. I remember one year, standing at the bar and a line of players walked through the door, stopping to hug me as they passed. There was a unity between the players and their fans that was unbelievable. They were a part of our community, citizens in our world. And in turn, when tragedy hit, like the deaths of Darryl Kile and Jack Buck, we endured the pain together.

Then we moved into the new stadium. Our location is similar yet we are considerably further away from each other. There’s more room in the bleachers and the new metal benches now have backs on them. Someone can pass by in the row without you having to move an inch and unless you make the effort, you will never meet your neighbor in front of you. The bullpen is huge and deep in the stadium and too far away to even say hello.

Last Saturday, the Cardinals clinched their division and later some of the players walked into a bar where many Cardinals fans were celebrating. They stood in a group down the bar and eventually gathered at a few tables for a celebration of their own. They did not shake hands or share a toast or offer a "thank you" to the people who support them day in and day out and across hundreds of miles.

It reminded me of days gone by. And I missed the way it used to be. They were some of the best times.

Field of Dreams

2009-09-23T16:12:00.006-05:00

Slowly, we made our way down a narrow gravelly road nestled between corn fields and corrals inhabited by smelly but beautiful cows. My 7 year old nephew was enthralled. So much different than home... The colors were so vibrant and rich. The smells? Well, they were... strong? The sound of the wind rustling through the corn fields was unfamiliar but calming. My nephew and I agreed that we really liked Iowa.

Suddenly, the rustic beauty of the farm country was interrupted by... baseball!

This year marks the 20th anniversary of the movie THE FIELD OF DREAMS starring Kevin Costner. The original set of the movie still sits in the middle of farm country in Dyersville, IA. It's become quite the tourist attraction over the years.

The boy and I unloaded our baseball mitts from the back of the car, pulled on our sunglasses and hit the outfield for a little game

of catch. Then, we headed into the edge of the corn field to get our pictures taken.

"I'm melting!" he laughed, quoting the movie.

Later, we picked a spot on the bleachers to watch a family that was running the bases and taking a few swings at the plate. We ended our visit with an expensive visit to

the gift shop where we bought gifts for everyone back home and my nephew collected the spoils of a child who had been accidentally nailed by a fly

ball that his aunt had thrown. (Yes, I hit him. ON

the Field of DREAMS. I know...)

What a great day that neither of us will ever forget! A dream come true of sorts, right in the middle of a field of corn...

9/11

2009-09-11T12:32:00.003-05:00

Today is the 8th anniversary of the day the world stopped. Or seemed like it stopped.

Eight years ago. I was working as a traffic manager at an ad agency. Every morning before I left for work, I would sit in front of the TV, watching the today show & eating my breakfast instead of working out, which was my intention nearly every morning when I woke up. Shortly after flipping on the television, I watched as the 2nd plane plowed into the side of the World Trade Center. It was completely unreal. I thought maybe I hadn't seen it right or it was a figment of my imagination. But then the news anchors started shouting and asking each other if, indeed, that was a plane. And then life shifted to slow motion. And reality unfolded right before our eyes.

I went to work that day anyway. But we all huddled in one office, listening to the radio that belonged to our senior art director. There was speculation around our city that various buildings would be closed in a national security effort. And throughout the morning, an uneasiness settled in my stomach. I just wanted to go home and be there. Finally our senior art director stood up and said, "I'm taking my son [one of our production artists] and we're going home to be with our family." Soon we all followed suit. Nothing seemed more important at the time.

It was a day that changed the way I looked at so many things. It reminded me of how much I loved my family, of the pride I have in country, of the joy I find in my freedom, of how short life is and that we should do our best to truly LIVE and leave a positive imprint when our time is up. It reminded me to be thankful for every day and for the hard work and dedication of others. And it taught me that we have a responsibility for self but also toward each other.

The Shape of the River

2009-08-26T15:02:00.007-05:00

"My boy, you've got to know the SHAPE of the river perfectly. It is all there is left to steer by on a very dark night. Everything else is blotted out and gone. But mind you, it hasn't the same shape in the night that it has in the day-time.' a passage from "Life on the Mississippi" by Mark Twain.

In the moments when you think you know everything, you must step aside and discern if you understand it all in context. Do you know what to do with that EVERYTHING that you've acquired over the years? How is that knowledge to be used in the broader sense or in big picture of life?

No matter your age or experience or purpose, I think we all reach points in life where we wonder what is left to learn or we feel like we may have reached the pinnacle of our expertise but a grad school professor reminded me last night that in these technology driven times, it's easy to think you've grasped a concept completely. The world wide web has placed new ideas and information at our fingertips. But to replace the benefits of person to person learning with web surfing would be a grave mistake. To substitute online learning and research for opportunities to be educated by those that came before you could be a devastating error.

There are things that people know that the internet does not. You can learn a lot by observing people, shadowing your mentors, emulating their behaviors and the tactics that worked for them. There are secrets people can share, if you are so lucky. There are little tricks along the way.

A time will come eventually when even the old people grew up with computers in their homes and laptops instead of spiral bound notebooks in school. But those times are not yet. And there's still so much to learn and so much to be passed on.

I love technology. I am here, right? But there's something in the history, in the old ways of doing things that is so pure and individualistic. And there's a learning that comes from others that relates all things to life and not simply to the task at hand.

My teacher reminded me of Mark Twain's "Life on the Mississippi." It's a memoir of Twain's life as a cub pilot on a steamboat that traveled the Mississippi. In it there is that passage, mentioned above, in which Twain is schooled on the importance of understanding the shape of the river. Much like life, when you work the river, knowing how to drive the boat is not enough. Knowing how deep the water is or how many miles you must go is not enough. Knowing the route or mapping out your journey is not enough. You must understand the context in which you are doing those things. You must have a full grasp on the big picture. You must know the shape of the river so that even in the darkest night or the fiercest storm , you can find your way.

Go to Bed!

2009-08-20T23:33:00.004-05:00

Me: "I'm getting sleepy. I can hardly keep my eyes open."

Him: "Well, go to bed."

It was a simple comment. Just a comment. Not a plea for assistance. I said, it not to invoke my father's advice but just to say it. But with his father's ears, he heard a dilemma that cried out for a solution. He heard a problem that needed a fix. And so... In a serious and direct tone, he responded as best he could.

My dad's always been a sort of no nonsense kind of guy. He has a bit of a sense of humor and he laughs once in a while. But he's about the business of the day. And he sees no cause to complain or whine or whimper when nearly every situation in life has a quick fix like, just going to bed, for example.

I never really caught on to this no nonsense approach. I am more of a good time Charlie. I like to have fun, I love to laugh and I've found that it's the not-so-funny parts of life that provide the most humor. In other words, I talk just to talk sometimes and I complain because it's funny.

Dad doesn't think I'm funny at all. He just wants me to quit my whining and go to bed. I think that's hilarious.

Second Chances

2009-08-13T12:38:00.008-05:00

Perhaps it is because I have been given so many second chances in this life that I believe in giving them to others. Where would I be without a second chance? I could have been an orphan, to start. I may have never graduated college, given that I was kicked out with only 12 credits left to complete. I'd probably be unemployed since last year was such a giant cluster.

Three years ago, I wrote a blog about being remembered for the good you have done in life. Often times, the only way that can happen is if we are given opportunities to right the wrongs we've done. In that blog entry, I wrote a bit about my high school friend, Kathy Donaway. (Read that entry here:

http://michelesingsit.blogspot.com/2006/11/remember-good.html)

For years I had lived with the feeling that I had mishandled our relationship and I wondered if I would ever see her again, much less talk to her. Thanks to the dawning of the social networking age and the brilliance of Facebook, Kathy and I reconnected. We spent hours one night just talking and we got down to the heart of some very important matters in our lives. And I'm proud to say, thanks also to a second chance, Kathy and I have renewed our friendship.

It's so easy to carry hurts of the past on our shoulders and to enter into second chance opportunities bound with preconceived notions and almost a determination to fail. It didn't work before. I messed it up the last time. People don't really change. Many thoughts can prevent us from giving a situation or another person or ourselves a second chance.

I realize that not everyone will have my experience. And the outcomes may not always be rosy. But proceeding with an open mind and an open heart can lead you to discover things and people that you may have missed. You may be presented with experiences that result in cherished memories. And, if nothing else, you may find within yourself the courage just to try.

Words

2009-08-05T21:12:00.008-05:00

We are all familiar with the idea that if you are told something enough, you will start to believe it. The concept can work both positively and negatively.

When one of my Goddaughters was little, people complimented her regularly, telling her how beautiful she was. Because she was painfully shy back then, she'd smile sheepishly and hide behind me when others talked to her. Then one day, as we stood in line to check out at Target, the cashier looked up and said, "You are so beautiful." My Goddaughter leaned toward the register and responded, "I know."

After years and years of hearing how pretty she was, my Goddaughter began to believe it. And the words of others sounded more like fact to her than compliments. She responded with confidence, not conceit. She had been told over and over that she was beautiful so it must have been true.

At the opposite end of the spectrum, the mental toll that negative words can have on the human spirit is astounding. Research shows, in simple studies, that if a person is told repeatedly to think about something, their "thought energy" shifts and their brain waves change to reflect those thoughts. So if someone is told that they are no good, worthless or a failure on a regular basis, their mindset changes to such a degree that they can become no good, worthless or a failure.

I don't believe that we are aware in many cases of the affect of what we say to the people around us. And, I am often amazed at how cruel we can be when it comes to inflicting hateful words on others, especially strangers.

I think the greatest demonstration of this behavior occurs in the sports arena. If a team or a player is slumping or having a rough time, otherwise happy, cheerful fans can become mean. Perhaps they think that reverse psychology will light a fire under those athletes. Or they forget that athletes are people too. But I have to wonder, if someone came to your job every day and, while you tried to work, yelled and screamed about how bad you were at your job, if you'd get much done. If the people around you constantly yelled that you suck or you should just go home, wouldn't you want to just... go home?

In my younger years, my tongue was much sharper. But my compassion for others has grown recently and I have become very aware of the importance of compliments and the value in kind words. Negativity breeds negativity. Positivity breeds positivity. We should choose our words wisely.

Rain Delay

2009-07-26T21:05:00.005-05:00

You spend so much time preparing. Learning. Studying. Practicing. Then, just when you've gotten started and everything seems to be progressing well, the rains come. And it's time to pull on the tarp and wait out the storm.

Sometimes it comes as a surprise but even when you see the clouds rolling in, you can't help but be a little stunned. And you may even be in awe as you just sit and watch it pour. You pay close attention to the speed and the intensity of the drops as they fall. You feel the water roll down your face and drip from your chin as you head for cover.

You distract yourself for a while. Conversation. Nap. Food. Games. Television. Music. Anything to pass the time. Perhaps you study a little. Try to learn from past mistakes or the experiences of others. Practice what you'll do next. Practice makes perfect, right?

There are days when the rains come right on time. You know you're not as prepared as you'd like to be. You're not ready for the situation. And the storms sort of bail you out. Buy you some time. And there are days when you feel so ready, like nothing could stop you. You feel better than you've every felt. Then the skies open up and put your day on hold.

But in that "everything happens for a reason" way, you do what it takes to get through it. Eventually, the clouds scatter and the sun reappears. And when the tarp is pulled back, you run back on the field and get back into the game.

It was only a rain delay after all. Not the end of the season...

From Engelbert to Paul...

2009-07-09T11:07:00.012-05:00

My grandmother had a thing for Engelbert Humperdinck. According to my aunt, Grandma always used to say, "Engelbert Humperdinck can put his shoes under my bed any time." My mom says she loved Paul Newman too.

I didn't know my grandma for very long. I was 10 months old when she died. But she sounds like a woman after my own heart. She didn't really have a type when it came to men. She loved the dark-haired Indian with the silky smooth voice and the blue-eyed dreamy actor and she married my grandpa who was tall and skinny and had a sense of humor that was out of this world.

Grandma and I would have been great friends, I think. And we certainly would've enjoyed talking about men. Not only because I don't really have a type either when it comes to men (and not just because I also think Engelbert and Paul were very hot); but also because I love a man for who he is and the characteristics he offers, not simply because he fits a mold.

Maybe it's because I don't really fit a mold myself that I don't hold others to a certain set of requirements. I'm not sure. But I do know that finding the right guy when you really don't have a list isn't always easy. And everyone and their brother wants to fix you up with everyone from Engelbert to Paul in the hopes that you will stumble upon someone suitable in the process.

And it's as taxing as it is exciting.

And I understand the frustration of the people around me who just want me to quit complaining and find someone to spend the rest of my life with.

I don't know who the right guy is. I don't know if he's dark and mysterious like Engelbert Humperdinck or dreamy like Paul Newman or spontaneously funny like my Grandpa. The possibilities seem endless. And once you settle on one, the possibilities just end.

I wonder what Grandma's advice would be.

Freeze Pops on the Front Porch

2009-07-05T23:02:00.003-05:00

We got lost somewhere. I'm not quite sure when it happened. But we made a wrong turn.

I remember the Friday nights at Grandpa's, playing wiffle ball in the alley or chasing the dog around. There were lawn chairs set up in a huge circle. I can still see the smiles and smell the cigar and cigarette smoke. I remember Richard mostly and his wild head of curly blonde hair. He could always be found in the midst of the fun.

I remember sleepovers. Hot rollers in my hair and disco music on the record player and everyone dancing... "And if you can stay awake, Michele, you can watch Saturday Night Live in the boys room." I never saw it. Not once.

I remember vacations. I remember fishing and pontoon boats and cannon balls into the pool.

I remember feeling like I was the luckiest kid in the world to be surrounded by such amazing people. And I still feel that anticipation in my stomach when I'm on my way to a family gathering because I hope that when I open the door, it will be just like it was back then.

I remember freeze pops on the front porch. I remember wagon rides. I remember wishing at one point in time that I could be each and every one of you for one reason or another.

But we got lost along the way. Just as people do. We each wandered in our own direction and for some, other things and people became more important. For others, life sucked us in and away and distracted us.

I can't help feeling like we made a wrong turn. I can't pinpoint it. I know life got complicated for each of us in our own way. I know life got complicated for me. And it's not the same now. I miss the excitement of just being together.

Today, I sat around a table with my aunts and uncles and listened to stories about my grandparents and great aunts & uncles. And they laughed like they used to in the yard behind the tavern that Grandpa owned. They said things that I'm sure would have been whispered back then so that "the kids" wouldn't hear. And I laughed. What a gift! What a golden opportunity!

And I worry that if we don't get back on track and figure out where we went wrong that the story telling will end with them. And that my kids won't know you, cousins. I worry.

This family is all I've got.

Our Flag

2009-07-05T20:45:00.001-05:00

on the front porch of my parents' house... God Bless America!

Happy Birthday to the Land of the Free & Home of the Brave!

2009-07-03T00:18:00.003-05:00

Obama at the All-Star Game

2009-06-23T21:46:00.002-05:00

Reports came out today announcing that President Obama would be throwing out the first pitch at the 2009 All-Star Game in St. Louis, MO. The President will be the fourth president to have the honor, joining John F. Kennedy, Richard Nixon and Gerald Ford in the baseball history books.

I am also scheduled to be at the 2009 All-Star Game. The St. Louis Cardinals who are serving as this year's hosts for the Mid Summer Classic mistakenly forgot to invite me to sing the National Anthem. So I will be sitting in my seats in the bleachers. If I can get in the door...

I have been in this very place once before, my friends. The excitement of a new day had been building for quite some time. A St. Louis Cardinals opening day, in fact... I had placed my ticket under my keys by the door the night before, ironed my shiny white jersey with the birds on the bat across the front and barely slept a wink in anticipation for said day. FINALLY! The sun rose and the hours passed and, along with my bleacher buddies, I hurried to the stadium... TO WAIT IN LINE. For three hours.

You see, it was 2004 and now, former President George W. Bush tossed out the ceremonial first pitch for the St. Louis Cardinals home opener. It was a security nightmare. The snipers on the roof were fascinating but the lines to get inside were ridiculous. I don't remember when I actually got to my seat but I can tell you that I never saw that first pitch and I certainly didn't hear the National Anthem.

St. Louis Cardinal history is filled with Hall of Famers who are worthy of the first pitch honor. Why not give it to one of them? Why not Lou Brock who was an all star himself 6 times or Bob Gibson, the 8-time all star? How about Red Schoendist, the 10-time all star or Ozzie Smith who was selected for 15 all star teams? There are plenty of other viable options for the duty. And they are options that will not require the city to turn upside down completely in the name of safety and security.

The last time St. Louis hosted the All Star Game was 1966. It was reportedly 105 degrees that day and spectators were passing out in the stands. The game went 10 innings and the National League won, 2-1. Brooks Robinson was the MVP. I have no idea who threw out the first pitch.

INTEGRITY

2009-06-22T23:08:00.004-05:00

A man with integrity is a man who is incorruptible. He is a man who does the right thing simply because it is the right thing and not because he will gain from it.

A man with integrity is an honest man. He is a man who lives by a valiant set of values or rules without wavering.

A man with integrity stands up for the truth and those that represent it even in the moments when it may not benefit him.

And I believe a man with integrity is often a generous and considerate and caring man. For these things go hand in hand.

When a man lacks integrity in any part of his life, the fallout spills over into every nook and cranny. The outcome effects not only him but also his family, his friends, and the people who surround him on a daily basis.

Eudora Welty, a short story writer, once said, "Integrity can be neither lost nor concealed nor faked nor quenched nor artificially come by nor outlived, nor, I believe, in the long run, denied." I believe what she means by this is that integrity is something that comes from within and while it may not be recognized immediately, the actions of a man who possesses it will be recognized eventually. And she makes it seem like integrity is a rare find. I might agree with that.

Some days, it may not seem worth the risk, to act with integrity. As a people, we are far more concerned with advancement and success, with money and material items, and with fame and notoriety than we are with being truthful and honest and doing the right things.

Integrity is the little voice in your head, the angel on your shoulder, the feeling in your gut that lets you know you're on track. It's a knowing deep inside of you.

Alan Simpson once said, "If you have integrity, nothing else matters. If you don't have integrity, nothing else matters."

Tavern on the Green

2009-06-12T19:44:00.006-05:00

Recently, I was notified that one of my photos of Tavern on the Green had been chosen for the New York guide by schmap.com. Here is the photo and the link to schmap.com!

www .schmap.com/newyork/restaurants_dinewithaview/p=6372/i=6372_22.jpg

Repost: "You Mustn't Mess Me About..."

2009-06-09T22:27:00.002-05:00

This was originally written and posted in October of 2005. I am reposting it for three reasons. One, I don't have the energy right now to think up another witty but impactful blog. Two, this will sadly always be relevant. And three, until men stop thinking it's funny to pick on the fat girl or to make a joke of her, I will stand up, fight back and, dammit, I'll be heard.

Being a big girl isn't easy. Any big girl can tell you that. Usually you don't come to the realization of your bigness on your own. Someone else or maybe a group of others helps you along. And for many girls of the FAT persuasion, that reality is soon followed by a diligent effort to build up a fort of trustlessness. Walls designed to keep out the evil fat-girl-haters and that can only be penetrated by a handful of family members or friends who love you EVEN THOUGH.

34 years into my big fat life, comments about my size still hurt my feelings. Even implications that I am large is a pretty big blow. Recently, I got into an argument with a guy because he said, "You could probably kick my ass." I lost it. Why would he say something like that? Perhaps he said it because he could see the muscles in my arms bulging through my shirt or because I appear to be athletic and agile. No, no... He said it because I am a big girl and as you know ALL big girls can kick ass... Right?

In another recent incident, a co-worker of mine commented that I "look better when [I] wear [my] clothes looser." As opposed to when they are just too damn tight? I am sure she had the best of intentions. She just wanted me to know I looked nice that day... Right?

Dispelling common beliefs about big girls could be a lifelong campaign. And I don't know that I'll ever reach enough people to [make waging that war worth it.] But right here, in my small corner of the world, I will say this: Having more of one thing doesn't mean you have less of anything else. The extra weight has not taken the place of feelings and sensitivities. And contrary to what you may have heard, the added pounds are not accompanied by thicker skin.

Although for years we big girls have laughed it off, looked the other way, pretended like it doesn't really matter... It is not funny. We look the other way because it's too painful to listen. And yes, it REALLY DOES matter.

I think Bennie in the movie CIRCLE OF FRIENDS said it best when she said, "You mustn't mess me about. I know I may look like a rhinoceros but I've got quite a thin skin really."

Old New Friends

2009-05-17T02:31:00.003-05:00

Tonight I learned that your friends, your true friends, are always your friends. Time and circumstance may separate you. Others may invade or occupy the space that friends once filled. Careers and new opportunities may create distance between you. But when the time is right... when you really need them... not simply when you THINK you really need them most, but when they are supposed to be a part of your life, they will be. Your true friends are always your friends.

Twenty years may pass. But it's comforting to know that once you're all back in one room, the conversation may have matured or changed due to life experience but the friends are still the same. The phrases you once shared still work. The laughter is familiar. Some of the old jokes still stand. And your friends are still your friends.

And at the same time, it's all new too. Your old friends, after twenty years, are your new friends. They are your old new friends. With new stories and different experiences that have brought them through your time apart to get to now.

Twenty years ago, when you were 18 years old, you couldn't imagine life getting any better. You were surrounded by your four best friends, laughing and plotting and planning the future and pulling off seemingly impossible but unforgettable moments. Life was joyful and fun, even when it was painful. Because it doesn't get better than five friends on a new adventure every day.

But it does get better. Time and circumstance may separate you. Others may invade or occupy the space that friends once filled. Careers and new opportunities may create distance between you. There are births and deaths and divorce and a lot of other things you'll never discuss. But when the time is right, your old friends will be new again. And the hugs will be better. The sincerity of emotion and feeling is stronger and more solid. Ashley still won't get the jokes. Cammie will still giggle until she's red in the face. Sylvia will tickle you with her stories and catch phrases. Mikki will spout off all the "what's meant to be." Roxanne will stay quietly committed. And your friends... Your true friends... will still be your friends.

Thank God for that.

Finding Yourself

2009-05-10T22:18:00.002-05:00

There is no one schedule to follow on the journey to find yourself. There is no one prescription to cure your ills along the way. There is no one path nor one map for that matter...

For some of us, it seems a never-ending voyage, a rocky road filled with disappointment due to either poor choices or unsavory circumstances. And often times there are few answers to the hundreds of questions that weigh on our minds.

The easy part of finding yourself is having the power to define or create who you are. The hard part of finding yourself is deciding who you will create. There are people who seem to know who they are from the moment they are born. I am not one of them.

Knowing what I like and understanding where I excel comes easy but I have lived my life by trial and error. Settling down is taking me longer than I anticipated (and probably longer than my parents wish it would have). But I think I've done enough testing. I have had plenty of highs and hit enough lows to know, now, what is good for me and what is bad and where I belong.

I have yet to completely find myself; to create the loving, caring, wildly successful & exceedingly happy woman that I want to be. And until I do, I will keep living. Really living.

"Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves like locked rooms and like books that are written in a very foreign tongue. Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will find them gradually, without noticing it, and live along some distant day into the answer." ~Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters to a Young Poet

2-1/2 is Normal

2009-04-19T12:41:00.005-05:00

I park on the 2-1/2 floor. That's right. 2-1/2. Not the 1st floor or the 3rd floor. Not even just the 2nd floor. I park on floor 2-1/2.

And I think my parking habits are generally a good reflection of how I operate in the rest of my life. Simple isn't really my thing and neither is normal or standard. I enjoy different, slightly left of center, not quite right.

I love quirky people and odd cars and I think fat babies are happy, no matter what the media tells us. I also think skinny girls are just mad because they're hungry; they're not really stuck up.

I have a thing for the ugly guy in the group. I don't know why. It just happens. (No offense, of course, intended to guys who are aware that I have liked them.) I love to laugh and my humor is not always appreciated by others because I can find humor in just about anything including death and religion. My Jesus t-shirt is evidence of that. (It about put my mom over the edge.)

I've never heard people say, "that girl's just not right," but I'm sure it's been said. And that's ok.

I could eat collard greens for breakfast and I love the smell of a sweaty man with beer on his breath. I would sit for 12 innings in the rain just to see a Cardinal victory, especially if they were playing the Cubs. I sleep with 6 pillows which is not only weird but it says something sad about my love life; and I wrap myself up like a burrito in my blankets in the winter. When I was a kid, my favorite chore was scraping "bone dust" off of the meat in my dad's butcher shop.

I love to be barefoot but I hate feet. It's my greatest contradiction in life. I hate rules but I love process. That's my second greatest contradiction. How does the top three round out? I am extremely claustrophobic but I love to be hugged.

In this life, the greatest lesson I've learned is that everybody's normal is different. We cannot judge one another by the standards we have set for ourselves. Lifestyles, tastes and the way we do things vary based on our normal, how we grew up, where we've lived, what we've learned. The fact alone that we were raised in different homes, under different circumstances makes our normals different. The fact that you'd rather park on the 3rd floor or the 2nd floor because parking on 2-1/2 is not quite right makes our normals different.

2-1/2 is normal. It's my normal. Even if it makes you a little uncomfortable...

Preparation

2009-04-09T15:21:00.004-05:00

Everything is preparation for something. Or so I've been told. I think people say that to help you see the lesson in troubled times or to make the best of a less than stellar situation. The first time I heard anyone say that, I had been sitting up all night with the worst sinus cold of my life. The wife of one of my pastor's told me it was God's way of training me for the long, miserable nights when I would be awake with sick children. If that is, indeed, true, I have had an awful lot of preparation for parenthood. And, at 38 years old, I sometimes wonder why because I don't have any kids yet.

For the last two days, I have taken care of my friends' kids. Watching more than one child, in my parents' home taught me quite a few things.

The first lesson was that I don't want to have children AND live with my parents. It's too much work. Even when my parents think they are helping, they are really just getting in the way of my process. And, unfortunately for my parents the baby, who they were dying to hold, was not having it so there wasn't much they could do. In reality, babies go through phases where they only want one person so, it was sort of a test for me. And my mom.

Secondly, having two children to wrangle confirmed my belief that above all else, organization is key. Preparing for the next phase of the day while they sleep is critical. The only thing I can't figure out is how I will live without TV. And what I mean by that is how I will live without putting my kids in front of the TV so they will be occupied while I do normal every day things like shower and use the facilities and perhaps sneak in a drink of water.

Finally, it became crystal clear to me that staying up until 2 AM is not a good idea when you have to be showered, dressed and fed before the kids are up. I also realized how much I missed my long hair and being able to throw it in a ponytail as well as how over-rated these acrylic nails are.

Believe me, prior to this week, I had plenty of practice with motherhood. I helped raised my 2 Goddaughters who are now 16 & 18 and there was many a weekend when I had their 5 siblings as well. But I don't know how I could do all that and work outside the home. That revelation was a little disappointing given the tremendous amount of consideration I've been giving to having children on my own, without a spouse or significant other.

So much to consider... Maybe all things are not preparation. Maybe some things are pop quizzes to see if your ready for the big exam that lies ahead.

Play Ball

2009-03-24T18:41:00.005-05:00

It seems my ball playing days are over. I am profoundly saddened by the idea given that I have played one sport or another every year since I was 6 years old. That's 32 years of sports under my belt! And now, I am a player without a team.

When I was 6 years old, I played my first year of softball. I remember practicing in the parking lot of school. I think my coach was Mr. Turner and I vaguely remember red helmets. Although, I could be wrong about that. Two years later, I started volleyball and basketball. By the time I was nine years old, all I wanted to do was play ball.

I grew up in a time when sports was competitive at all ages. There were winners and losers. Winners got trophies. Losers watched as the winners collected their trophies. Parents filled the stands and cheered loudly but nobody berated the coach because their kid didn't get enough playing time. Parents wanted their kids' teams to win.

I also played in an era where there were "A" teams and "B" teams. I played on the "B" teams but I never had a chip on my shoulder about it. And looking back, I am proud I wasn't on the "good" squads. What the "A" team coaches neglected to see in me was the fire I had, the desire to learn and a little bit of natural talent that I just needed help finding. I ended up playing ball all the way through college so I guess it didn't matter that I was only on the "B" team after all.

During my first college volleyball game, I tore up my left knee pretty badly. Badly enough, in fact, that I've had several procedures just so I can walk. And about 6 years after college, I injured my back which resulted in a lame left leg. So, I don't run well anymore. I don't run at all... really. It's somewhat painful but it's also hard to carry this big ol' body around on one leg.

Even though I am not the ideal candidate for a team, and most teams would rather not reserve a spot for me when it could be occupied by a girl who's more agile, I have never wanted to give it up. This will be my first summer with no sand volleyball and no softball. The thought of hanging it up causes tears to well up in my eyes.

I suppose I am lucky that my "career" in sports lasted this long. And I am truly thankful for the experiences I have had, the friends I have made and the person that sports helped me become. I told my Goddaughter the other night that when you keep asking for more rather than being grateful for the gifts you've already been given, you are ungrateful. I don't want to be ungrateful but it's hard. Maybe I'll do better tomorrow.

Painting & Passing Time

2009-03-24T14:35:00.013-05:00

Since losing my job 5 months ago, I've been doing a lot of soul searching, trying to decide what I should do with my life.

Applying and interviewing for job after job wears on me psychologically and emotionally and the discouragement is overwhelming. I keep saying that something has to change soon and I try to hang on to the belief that I will be working again very soon but there are days when it's not easy.

So I have tried to turn my focus to doing things that I love to do and I've been working on ways to actually make money doing them. Unfortunately, you don't get paid to sing the national anthem so in between anthem gigs, I've been painting. I paint children's furniture and nurseries, mostly, along with the occasional painting for a bathroom or something odd like that.

I enjoy painting. It relaxes me. I don't really have a mind for business unfortunately so I haven't firgured out how to make a living doing it. There's a small part of me that is afraid if I relied on my painting to pay the bills, I wouldn't enjoy it as much. And, I figure there are a lot of folks out there who are actually trained to do things like this that are clogging up the market. (Man, I can't wait to get a job...)

But! I thought since I have very little to blog about right now, I should at least promote how I am passing time. If you know anyone who needs something painted, let me know!

To see more of my painting, visit http://www.flickr.com/photos/michelesingsit/sets/72157615858086284/

Looking Out for Mom and Dad

2009-03-17T23:21:00.003-05:00

I remember her hand-made dresses and high heels. I remember her matching jewelry and painted lips. I remember going to the salon with her every week to get her hair done. But I don't remember when she traded in her stylish duds for elastic pants and her pumps for white leather sneakers.

It seems I woke up one day and my mom was old. I don't mean that in a disrespectful or hurtful way. She is in her seventies now and comfort is king in her world. As she swapped styles, my mom also seemed to lose a little confidence. She seems more fearful now, needs my dad by her side more and stays home a lot more.

Watching my parents age was never as difficult for me as it became when I moved home two and a half years ago. Now, I witness changes from the front lines. And it scares me. It also makes me very sad. I am hyper-sensitive to their quirks and to the way they do things so when something is the least bit different, I worry and I ask a lot of questions. More questions than my dad likes me to ask.

I remember when life was easy. I remember when I didn't have to worry about anything because my parents did all the worrying. I remember when I was just the kid. But I had no idea that would all change one day and I would be looking out for my mom and dad.