What to say (or not to say) when on the news

The Norwegian Broadcasting Corporation ran a case on elderly and their issues with poor eyesight. The illustration they chose to use was perhaps not the best of choises, but I have to admit I found it extremely funny... or maybe more worrying.
This is how I wish I could respond when thinking about my own parents driving... just mentioning.

Dresscode.....

Back in the days we had dresscodes. People were expected to wear a certain standard of clothes when attending different events or situations.

Work, church on Sunday, theatre, funerals... we knew how to dress before entering any of these situational localities. And jeans or very short skirt (ending above kneehight) were not proper for any of them.

I was thinking about it the other day, as we went to Church for Christmas ceremony. I looked around noticing all kinds of attire were represented and nobody gave any outfit or anybody a second glance.

I am not sure what I reacted to the most: the fact that we do not seem to notice eachother (neither in a good nor a bad way) or that we seem to have stopped caring how we are percepted.

Then, just to make a point, I gave my own look a good thinking through.

I never brush my hair, I very seldom wear any make up, my style is at best described as chic punk.... and almost always black, but I enjoy wearing grey as well. I wear chains and buckles, high heels and chiffon...

In all fairness I have to admit my own sense of dresscode is a bit off... and I don't even wear newest fashion, I dress according to my mood... suppose that is not what can be considered proper dresscode, or is it?

Maybe to dress according to your own feeling is the most honest thing to do, if clothes should be about personality and not about what somebody told us to wear because everybody else does.

Truth?

I am not very good at talking too often to the same person... but I talk a lot to different people.
Professional hazard, I suppose, but it gives me insights in truths I never thought I would agree to, and more important: I have discovered that the truth I believe in is not the same truth as you believe in and consider true.
Talking to different people makes me aware we all have different baggage, different experiences, other values and morals and it all adds to the final conclusion we form in our mind, based on our consciousness, to be what things or issues are like.

I always tell the truth, I never lie. Not because I do not see the obvious advantages it could grant me to serve a white lie, or to spruce the story to fit in better with the current situation, but because I am way too distracted and easy to confuse... I even confuse myself at times... Often.
Anyway; in order not to paint myself into painful and troublesome corners, I stick to the truth so I know and remember what I said last.

However... since I tell my version of the truth, does it make me more trustworthy than someone not that careful with what version of the story they tell?

On holidays in the Middle East

20 odd years ago I lived in Israel for a year. Working as a volunteer in a Kibbutz appealed to me with its easy going carefree approach to life. I was in my late teens, blond, blue eyes, alone and had no other concern than showing up at work on time. Other than that I was taken care of. No bills, no deadlines, I handed my clothes in at the laundry service, I showed up at mealtimes, I was given free alcohol and cigarettes (if I wanted any), there was a pool available and if I did not want to take the bus (which then was an easy and convenient way to travel) a car was provided if I ever wanted to go somewhere. I had a good and carefree life with perks noone could sneer at or brush aside as trifling.

Two years ago I took my family back to the Middle east. My kids were 2, 8 and 14 years old. I thought I was going to familiar grounds. That I was going to show where I spent a year of my life totally different from the life I have here.

My kids were so impressed by the temperature, the beaches, the food in the restaurants, the vivid people and friendly attitude. My sons got their hair ruffled by almost every person who passed us by, complimented with a smile, and I had to explain to them that it is still not common to see natural light blond people in Israel.

However: what impressed the kids the most was how we could walk around in a museum, go diveing with dolphines, wander about in some historic ruin and then end up in an amusementpark. Just within short distance and hardly any travellingtime at all. And for this reason they wanted to go back this year as well. When children that different in age agree on something a mother is thankful, and to me Israel is the ideal country to go on a holiday.

Time comes, it does not pass.... I think?

Today has been another day of pure bad luck. I have no idea why

misfortune seems to be stalking me.

I know I plan my days I just don’t know why I bother anymore.

Since we are going on a holiday abroad this summer my little man needs a new passport. I figured that I had time to apply for one this morning, since my first class didn’t start until 10 am.

I had plenty of time… I would have had plenty of time if only he could have agreed to take the passport picture, (the way we are instructed to do it: look at the red light, open eyes, keep mouth shut, don’t smile….) at the police station. We got it done, but it took forever.

I filled in all the forms and handed it in, delivered the little man in the kindergarten and got to work just in time.

The workday went on as expected, but when I was about to go home my tyre was flat. I didn’t realize until I had backed out and parked in the middle of the test drive to a class which was practising for the fork lift driver’s license. Another obstacle for them, but never mind that, it is a very old car.

I checked out the spare tyre and it was flat too, no air, and I couldn’t find any pump which worked on ANY of the workshops here at school. Somebody had broken them, in various ways (wonder who could have done that? We only have like 100 16-year olds rambling about in there).

So I left the car and went home, not driving.

To take the bus when you know the kindergarten close in a few minutes, get off the bus, run to the kindergarten, get the little man dressed and get home, make dinner (tea), get another kid dressed and on his way to a football match, give the little man a bath and put him to bed… it really makes me appreciate the car a lot more than I think is healthy. Usually, these everyday chores are no problem, but when the schedule is interrupted it is a totally different story.

So, I thought I was going to fold some laundry, but that was before my oldest son told me the strings on the guitar was broken, and he needed the guitar for a presentation in the subject music at school.

And now he tells me??????? I called a friend thinking perhaps I could lend one of his guitars (musicians are very good friends, by the way) and he offered me a set of strings before I had finished my first sentence.

Changing the strings took forever, as did the tuning of the guitar, and the laundry is still not folded.

Most of the time, it feels like I get nothing done. Still I know I hardly ever do nothing.

A New Start...

I used to have a blog for quite some time on ICQ. I posted little events from my somewhat chaotic life (both failures and victories... thinking about it: mostly failures) and to me it was pure therapy.

ICQ shut the blogsite down and during the days of no way to pour my misery out in writing, I find myself blabbering at work; forcing my coworkers to listen when I spill the uninteresting beans of my life.

Yes, I have heard of diaries, but what stranger would be rude enough to read, and hopefully relate, to my private sighs? Who could possibly cheer me up with funny and comforting comments then?

To save my working environment from social and professional meltdown I start anew. This is where I will pour out my heart on everyday life and trivial contingencies. If I am lucky; you might just like what you read and leave a comment? Please do, by the way, leave a comment I mean... both good and bad are equally welcome.

Shortcomings?

I am supposed to review end of term tests and exams, and if I have a break I should write on my paper, which is due soon, for this semester on my master’s degree.
Instead I fell into thoughts about how stupid I was to start a new blog when I never post anything there.

I do not suspect many miss my postings, but it has something to do with the feeling of going through with what you start.

Shortcoming is a word I more and more often identify myself with, not just as far as this blog is concerned, but life in general.

Last night I had this incidence at home which made me realize it is not just me; I surround myself with people who help me fail. Yet, there is an expression I have written on the wall in my bedroom, it is the first thing I see every morning as I wake up: "There is an expression for being almost late; it is called "On time!"" (Actiually I have two quotes on my bedroom wall, the other one is "Enjoy the silence!")

Yesterday I started off like normal, doing all the things I usually do with the usual features of chaos. Things get done, it is just the way they are accomplished which is a bit off normal standard (or so I think?), and everything went on as expected… even if I felt like running my feet off to manage. (Thinking about it, knowing it has come to the point of being a lifestyle, I do not really mind anymore: We laugh, love and live. Noone can ask for more, I think.)

At 10:15 pm, my oldest son told me he wanted snack for his exam, which is today. 5 minutes later my 10-year old told me (shouting from his bed) he needed a broccoli for his excursion, which is today, and his fishing rod. How can I ignore the request from school he is to bring a vegetable for the fishsoup the class is to cook outdoors while on a fishingtrip? I turned in the stairs, coming back down as I mentally waved good bye to going to bed early just this once. The grocery store closed in 20 minutes so I rushed to the car, drove to the store, got everything they wanted/needed and got back home by 11:10 pm.

And then the fishing rod… I found the one I have been planning to fix for the last year, but I had no line for that one, so it was no use. I knew I had two others, but where were they? An hour later I found them right where I looked for them to begin with. Is it possible to have selective blindness?

To make a long story short(-er): I had it all lined up by the time they went for school. I dropped the little man off at the kindergarten and got to work on time. So, where is the shortcoming in this story? Sleep! I need sleep. I need to feel a bit younger, fresher, fit for fight, not to mention I really do need some beautysleep.

Appearance can turn out to be a shortcoming too, right?

Are parents Superheroes?

Some times I wonder how parents make wheels turn. I don't have enough hours in a day to get everything done which should have been done.
I have a fulltime job, I study, I have kids to take care of, a house to run and a dog to walk. In addition I have friends who should not be neglected.

I am lucky, I think, who do not need too much sleep. The lack of beutysleep is beginning to show, but that is not important. More important is the fact I never feel really rested. I am always running down on energy.
The most worrying aspect of it, however, is how I find my patience getting more and more worn out. I have no time for long discussions and I give instructions rather than ask. It is bad, I know, but when I get into dark moments of reflection over my own behaviour, I excuse myself by thinking it will pass. Time will come when I can slow down and be a better person.

My day starts at 5:30 am. I walk my dog before I hit the shower (my dog has a LOT of personality and demands to be walked from the second he hears my feet hit the floor... otherwise he can make a true turmoil waking up the entire family) and get ready to face the day.
By 7:00 am I have made lunches for the kids, the kids are awake and dressed, schoolbags are packed and I leave the house with the little man, who I deliver in the kindergarden before I continue to work.
8:10 am the first lesson start and the workingday is on.
By 4:00 pm I am usually back home, groceries and the little man are picked up on the way and I prepare the warm meal we call dinner (tea) before the kids are to be dressed and transported to soccer practice or other spare time activities.

7:00 pm I try to get the little man in bed. Then the other two have homework they some times need help with, they eat supper and by 10:pm it is bedtime.

At 11:00 pm I start working: preparing tomorrows lessons, reviewing papers and tests and try to study a bit. While doing so, some times I chat while working, just to recognize there

 are other adults talking about adult subjects out there. I seldom go to sleep before 2:00 am.

I have a good life, but sometimes...well, it feels like I have no life, time to myself and things I like is VERY limited. How DO parents make wheels turn? How do they get the time to go out, to visit friends, to work out, to always have a perfect house? My house looks like a place hit by a hurricane EVERY NIGHT, and I don't always have time to clear it up.

Maybe most parents are superheroes, and I am among the few who were forgotten about when extra powers and energy was handed out?  It certainly feels like it!

Gentleness

I sometimes wonder about how we use, or abuse, our language, and how it affects our relationships.

I guess I am too old to appreciate some of the harsh comments especially young people, but also some my own age, seem to find quite appropriate.
In my mind words have a meaning. What you say has an impact. The impact you make is still valid, I think, even if most think "it does not matter", "they know I am just kidding" or "I don't really mean it, I am just being funny".

A lot of the swearing so many think is necessairy to utter; well, in my opinion it is a total waste of breath and a terrible way to put others down... most of the time unintetionally. You replace a lot of good words with words that have no other purpose than to show negativity or anger, even if those feelings are not present. They do not even emphasize the strength in your comment! It is just pointless putting people you consider friends or strangers who never did anything to you in the first place, down.

Some times I am apalled by how some people adress eachother and wonder why they put up with it? Is it normal to call your friend or sister, for that matter, a bitch? I even hear girls adress themselves like that and it makes me sad. Girls should stand up, if not for others, at least for themselves.

In the back of our head we know it is not good for us, we know that thoughts we plant can grow into convictions.

Hugh Blair really has a good point when he say that since we have such bad manners we must find a way to correct them. I think that our gentleness should start by us thinking about what the words we use really mean, and then pay attention to who we actually adress. Some times it is ok to use foul words because it is a private and mutual standard, other times it is just... well, not ok.

Gentleness corrects whatever is offensive in our manner.
Hugh Blair