A Refreshing Change

Did you watch “Toddlers and Tiaras” on TLC? I’m ashamed to admit that I did. But in my defense, it was just to have a good laugh. I couldn’t believe parents would let complete strangers judge the “beauty” of their children! And the lengths parents would go to to have them score well: Fake hair. Fake teeth. Fake tans. So much for natural beauty!

I bet pageants like Miss America (I’m proud to say that I don’t watch them) are much worse. You need to be stick thin, have perfect skin, perfect makeup, hair, and nails. Then comes the talent competition. Singing. Dancing. Playing an instrument. It has been done.

However, I saw something from this last Miss America competition. It was so refreshing to hear a contestant—Miss Colorado, a nurse—using the talent portion to talk about treating one of her Alzheimer’s patients. Although extremely pretty, this woman proved that using your brain is a talent in itself.

“…and all was well with the world.”

Older But Not Wiser

Stop already!

Isn’t the American culture obsessed with reversing the clock? In my opinion it’s truly sad. We have stooped so low as using poison injections in our faces, only to have a face that doesn’t move. I have Botox in my spastic muscles about every nine months. It hurts like heck(ll). I can not imagine having them in your face, by choice.

The anti-aging industry is probably a billion dollar one, from anti-aging surgical procedures, “miracle creams,” even shampoo. What happened to “aging gracefully”?

Isn’t it supposed to be “it’s inside what counts”? In my humble opinion it’s other cultures that have the right idea. So what if you are getting older? My great, great uncle, Doug is 94. He looks 94. He is the sweetest man. He was in the Air Force during World War II, and could talk about it all day.

Don’t we become wiser with age? Why are we so ashamed?

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Innocence of Childhood

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I’ve already told you that my dream would be to a children’s author and that Beverly Cleary is my writing hero. Reading her books is one of my best childhood memories. It was probably my first “chapter book,” and I remember feeling so grown up. At around age seven.

The book I’m going to talk about now was earlier in childhood: The Little House. Mom kept a copy, probably for grandchildren, and I’m looking at it right now. The cover is bent in places and has a large scuff mark, which is a sign of love, as it was passed from me to Sarah, then Kelley.

At the time I was too little young to understand the symbolism, but as the surroundings of this cute cottage were being built up, being surrounded by skyscrapers, I remember feeling a sense of absolute panic. That little house didn’t deserve this! It was such a relief when the sweet house was moved to the country again. It told kids that things would be okay in the end, which is an important lesson to learn at an early age.

Some would call this progress…

It’s simplistic wishing life’s problems could be solved in 40 pages like the little house’s, but hey—aren’t happy endings what childhood should be about?

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Truly, You’re A WInner!

Image: espnfrontrow.com

What I’m going to write in this post, I must admit, has absolutely nothing to do with the prompt; rather it fits the prompt’s title to a tee.

You see, yesterday I was fortunate enough to attend the Special Olympics World Games being held in Los Angeles. I had known for a few weeks that Mom, my younger sister Kelley, and I were planning on going. I was just looking forward to it, but more for the aspect of getting out of the house. I didn’t expect to be moved as much I was.

The three of us attended the swimming competition, which is one of my favorite events. The first thing I noticed was the athletes came in all shapes and sizes. It’s a refreshing change from the regular Olympics. You didn’t have to be oozing muscle to compete. The athletes were normal people, not ones that spent their life in the gym.

I asked Mom if she thought they were happier to win or just for the experience. You seriously couldn’t tell! The person who came in last looked just as happy as the person who was in first. And the athletes who had finished actually stayed in the pool to cheer on their competition. More than once I could feel my nose getting stuffy and eyes getting wet.

Overall, it was just so refreshing to watch people compete for the pure love of the sport, not because they’re hoping for a million-dollar contract or a Nike endorsement deal. After yesterday I don’t care if I never see another professional sporting event again—it will never compare to the sportsmanship and joy I witnessed in that pool.

Sole Mate

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Is it that I’m not a romantic; maybe that I haven’t been in love. Sure, I’ve liked boys in school, but no boyfriend. I will probably be boyfriend-less my whole life. It’s fine by me. Relationships are complicated. More complication is the absolute last thing my life needs!

I look at my parents, who have been married 36 years and my grandparents, 56. I can’t imagine being with one person with one person for 56 years! I would have gotten so sick of my significant other long ago.

In my humble opinion, the term “soul mate” has no meaning anymore. It’s thrown around willy-nilly. The teenagers who will break up over the new boy that transferred to their school are soul mates. I watch “Say Yes to the Dress.” It seems like every single bride has found her soul mate.

It would be interesting to see their divorce rate. Haven’t you heard that marriage is a give and take? Unless couples realize that, they haven’t found their soul mate and it doesn’t happen at the wedding. It takes time to realize.

She’s Wearing That??!!

I was born in the 80s; 1983 to be exact. The 80s have the reputation of being a fashion disaster. Just watch “The Goldberg’s” on ABC: shoulder pads, high hair (thanks, Aqua Net), and parachute pants. One word: NIIICE.

The 70s weren’t much better, although I wasn’t even a thought in Mom or Dad’s mind so I don’t know firsthand. But two words: bell and bottoms.

Now the 60s—early 60s actually—50s, and 40s are the fashion trends that I wish would come back. I watch shows like Mad Men and my newest favorite, The Astronaut Wives Club, and think they have the cutest wardrobes.

The three time periods have one thing in common when it comes to fashion: modesty. Think of knee-length dresses, or skirts of the same length. There would be a blouse, and possibly a cardigan sweater. Any jewelry would be understated—less is more.

Why can’t women’s fashion today be like that? Just as an example, I put “2015 Fashion Trends” in a search on Pinterest. What did I find? Ripped jeans, baggy cargo pants, and billowing tops. The jewelry was gaudy. More was more.

So when people talk about “The good ol’ days,” I doubt they are talking about fashion, but in my humble opinion, they could have.

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I Am Thankful

I loved school. Especially the first day. You unpacked crayons, a glue stick, and sharp never-been-used pencils from your new backpack and hoped it would be a good year. As the teacher passed out the books, I would be so excited about what I would learn: cursive? Fractions? States and capitals? Each school year brought so much promise!

I must admit, for being so psyched about another year, by February or so I was done, over it, probably thanks to my teacher, my desk mate, or MATH.

Sadly, less than 60% of the world’s children are ever educated past secondary school, according to UNICEF.

I watched a documentary on Netflix last night called On the Way To School and it showed the risks children and their parents are willing to take to have something we in America take completely for granted: an education. These kids walk four to six hours a day through terrain as diverse as the Atlas Mountains to African plains, being responsible for younger siblings, and being wary of wild animals. Not only do these kids not complain, they go eagerly. One 11-year-old African boy and his 5-year-old sister left their house—and I use the term very loosely—at 4:30 in the morning to begin their journey. They outran elephants (apparently wild elephants aren’t quite as happy as the ones in “Dumbo” and kill people when they get the chance) but the boy dropped his water bottle—filled with water acquired by hand digging through sand until he reached the water table—in the process. But he didn’t want to be late, because it was his turn to raise the flag.

It really put things into perspective. Instead of complaining that I had lots of homework, I should have been thankful—I’m pretty sure I couldn’t outrun an elephant.

Drought-Schmought

As you know, I live in Southern California. And as you probably know, we have had the driest couple years on record. I think I can count the rainy days we had this past this winter on both hands. Actually that might be a tad generous.

But I’m so sick of hearing about how badly we need rain! Everyone acts like it’s something we did. You can’t drive down the street without seeing banners attached to streetlights nagging us to be “Water Wise.” We are encouraged to buy things like low-flow toilets and washing machines that use less water. Governor Jerry Brown made restrictions like how often you can water your lawn. We are encouraged to rip our yards out and go with a “desert landscape.” We haven’t (and won’t), but our next-door neighbors have stopped watering all together. Personally I just think they’re lazy, but shouldn’t we get twice the water allotment since they’re using none?

It’s hard to take the drought seriously when city sprinklers are on on a rainy day, which often happens. Make up your mind: save or don’t.

…even in the rain.

Image courtesy voiceofsandiego.org