You're Killing my Mojo

When my mother was in her early fifties, she finally made it to Europe. It was a voyage she'd been waiting for her whole life. She was woman filled with wanderlust, but sadly, saddled with three children, failing kidneys, and a husband who could only afford to take her on one trip of a lifetime. But she was grateful for her 17 day adventure, even if it didn' t take her to every country she'd dreamed of exploring.
I only mention this because my mom was the poster child for the glass half full mentality of happy people. Her doctors always said she lived as long as she did (far exceeding their expectations) because of her positive mental outlook on life. She was truly a living example of mind over matter.
My dad, a wonderful , loving guy, was eventually dealt his own crappy medical kick in the ass and decided he wanted to check out asap. There was no holding his head high and laughing death in the face. He wanted to check out and check out fast. The doctors predicted he would live no longer than five years after their diagnosis of a horrible neurological disorder, and he died within exactly that time frame. He was not a good patient, but he was a great father. I'm just happy he's now at peace.
I'm rambling, I know, but I'm only remembering two very important people in my life, who loved each other depsite being polar opposites, and because of certain people currently in my life who I have termed Joy Killers. Debbie Downers. Dream Suckers. I think you get the idea.
In a nutshell, if you're feeling happy or relatively good about life, they will be more than happy to drop by and be the needle that pops your balloon. I don't think their intent is meanness, they can't help themselves. It's part of their genetic makeup.
You can even point this debilitating trait out to them and they will deny, deny, deny.
I'll keep my glass half-filled, no matter how hard they try to drain it.

So Here We Go...Again, Sort Of...

When I started my blog, several months ago, it was an endeavor meant for only me. It was place where I could sort my thoughts and try to accomplish a bit of writing on a regular basis. Only one close friend was allowed access to it because I wanted some kind of feedback, but was hesitant to let the whole world in on it.
"That's the whole point of a blog," said my friend. "You write it, people read it."
"But most bloggers seem to have a reason or a point," I countered. "My blog seems to ramble about aimlessly."
"You'll figure it out," she said.
And that, in a nutshell, is the story of my life. I'm still trying to figure it all out, even at the age of fifty.
On a whim, I decided to see if any of the Powers That Be at Vibrant Nation had any interest in what I had to say. What's the worst that could happen, I figured? They'd send me a polite email thanking me for my participation in VN but there was no immediate need for any new bloggage (by the way, I have no idea if that's even a real word, just humor me).
As it turns out, they were interested and now I need to get busy!

I think It's Getting Clearer...

When I started this blog my intention was to dwell on what it is that makes me happy. This endeavor, I've discovered, is not always immediately evident. It's a process and as it unfolds, I'm learning what it is that makes others happy. Or unhappy. Let's face it, some people simply choose to be miserable. It's what keeps them going.They love to wear their unhappiness like a gold medal and hope it rubs off on those around them. But I've decided those particular vultures won't drag me down.
But as I keep posting on a regular basis (not nearly as often as I'd planned) I realize that there needs to be some point to why I keep blogging. Obviously, it's not to entertain the huge mass of humanity that has glommed onto my posts!
So...
Here's what I've decided. Starting with the new year, it's time to embark on new adventures. At the age of fifty, it's time to dive headfirst into activities that normally scare the heck out of me or at the very least, make me very, very uncomfortable.
On December 15th, I will audition for a speaking part in a local stage production. I've been in the media for years, but have never attempted anything like this. I'm going into the whole thing with no expectations whatsoever. At best, they'll  like me and give me a part, and at worst, it will be a great learning experience.
What comes afterwards is up for debate...

It Fills Me With Glee

The past several television seasons have been a real disappointment for me. Where were the Freaks and Geeks, The Wonder Years, the Malcom in the Middles. I held out some hope when Desperate Housewives hit the airwaves, but lost interest by season 2.

There was no happiness to be found on television, not for me, anyway. And then, I heard about Glee.
This is a new show on the Fox network that should be assigned watching for middle to high school-aged students. Absolutely wonderful. I even stay up an hour past my bedtime on Wednesday nights just to watch it.
The show centers around Mr. Schuester,an Ohio high school teacher who longs to bring back his own glory days of being a member of the Glee club. He assembles a group consisting of the lowest on the high school food chain to the coolest of the jocks and cheerleaders. Together, they have one goal: to win the local high school glee club regional competition. But are they good enough?

The writing is brilliant. Every cast member the perfect choice for their given role. These kids can sing and they made me laugh,and they broke my heart, and they had me rethink my own high school days and the class systems I knew all too well. The adults are even better, from the germaphobic guidance counselor, Emma Pillsbury to Sue Sylvester, the militaristic cheerleading coach who believes terrifying children helps motivate them!
Has Glee changed my life? Has it inspired me to be a better human being? No, c'mon, that's asking an awful lot of a t.v. show, especially a musical-dramedy. But for at least one night a week, for one sweet hour, I'm pulled away from all the garbage that's happening in the world, and I smile.
And that's enough for me.

I Need A Gameplan

Many of my friends and co-workers have blogs. It seems like the thing to do. I started mine on a whim and really had no clear plan on why I was doing it, or the topic of my blog. As with most things I've attempted in life, winging it seemed like the best idea.
     I know lots of writers, real writers, people who actually make a living and pay their bills with the money they earn putting words to paper. I admire them a great deal for their dedication and love of the craft. Some people who know me would call me a writer, albeit a mostly unpublished writer. The sum of money I've made as a writer totals a grand forty dollars. Apparently, I'm a mostly unmotivated writer.
     So the gameplan right now is to sit down at my laptop every day, be it morning or night, and get something down on this blog. It doesn't even matter if nobody reads it. This is for me, my very own personal, daily writing exercise. Maybe something brilliant will come out of this, maybe not.
     Maybe it will simply make me happy.
    

What Is It We Really Want?

The other day, my friend "M" and I were sitting on the deck, enjoying a beautiful afternoon. The weather was perfect, not too hot or humid. We were enjoying our diet Cokes in wine glasses (seems a bit more sophisticated for some reason) and basically taking it easy before we had to part company and start thinking about what to make for dinner or how many loads of laundry we'd finish before falling, exhausted, into bed.
"What do you need to be happy?" M asked me. "I've been racking my brain about this for days and I can't think of one thing that would make me happy."
"I think having more time to travel would make me happy," I said. "Or at least a little happier."
We've had many conversations the past several months about this topic. What does it really take to make a person happy? Make us happy, that is. We've both come to the conclusion that it certainly isn't material things, although we like material things. We're happy that our children are happy and seem to have their lives in order. We're excited for their futures and hope they make wiser choices than we did. We realize it's pointless to lament about the past but we're still trying to figure out how we should tackle our futures. We both know what we'd like to do but have not yet worked up the courage to do it.
Right now, right at this moment, I am happy. My Ravens beat San Diego tonight. My laundry is done, for the most part. My house is quiet and peaceful.
Perhaps that is enough for right now.