Mathoms, etc.

I swear Zack thinks I'm a moron. I have a hard time figuring out how to put his leash on and sometimes have to make several attempts. He gives out this exasperated sigh every so often. But he patiently waits until I get it right. He is either scoffing or secretly laughing at me.

This is Zack, my canine nephew, temporary roommate and my sister Cecile's dog. I found him lounging on my meditation pillow yesterday after I got out of the shower. (His mom and dad are still in California for her father-in-law's surgery.) So apparently, Zack does his yoga (he always does his downward and upward-facing-dog postures) AND meditates. No wonder he's so even-tempered. People can learn a lot from dogs. Zack lives in the Now, says everything with his tail, never misses an opportunity to take a nap or obtain a belly rub, enjoys every meal, appreciates every walk or drive or new toy or the feel of the wind in his face, holds no grudges and loves unconditionally. In my next life, I wouldn't mind being a dog. But I'm probably not evolved enough to become one.

Happy Birthday to my baby sister Lynn! May all her hopes and dreams come true.

I hate those late night phone calls. They're never any good news. My sister just called to tell me her father-in-law's been diagnosed with stage 2 non small cell lung carcinoma. He's going to have surgery before Christmas and then chemotherapy. I hope all goes well and that he'll be around for many many years to see all his children married off AND spoil his grandkids. Why oh why do people smoke?

My boss is much maligned right now. Aside from making unpopular decisions, he's been taking people to task for various misdeeds. I applauded silently when I heard that someone asked him for more responsibilities and he told her to take care of what needs to be done first before asking for more.

Attendance is another thing . Now I'm all for using your paid time off, and I am far from being Ms. Perfect Attendance myself, but sometimes it gets ridiculous. I don't know which is worse: being liked enough that they tell you everything, for example playing hooky just to go Christmas shopping. Or NOT be liked too much and be blissfully unaware of what's going on behind the scenes. With winter illnesses, recent ice and snowstorms, staffmembers with children haven't been able to come in. Yes, I know that if I had children, I would probably hope for the same leeway they're being given. And yet immature, singleton me feels it is not fair at all.

An office full of women can be an intimidating place for the lone male. Especially if they've been there forever and are set in their ways. I say Kudos to the boss man for ruffling feathers and making ripples. Until I somehow get in trouble of course...

Another winterstorm. Another day spent snacking on Oreos and Cheetos watching my latest DVD acquisitions "The Bourne Ultimatum" and the "Order of the Phoenix". And wondering why Monday comes so soon after Friday.

Does it mean what I think it means when an 11 year old boy wants to wear muscle shirts? And his dad sounded so excited, too. I didn't want to rain on his parade.

See this page's pretty pretty header and lay-out? Thanks to my talented sister Lynn!

My other sister Cecile was in a minor car accident yesterday. I feel partly responsible because she wouldn't have been in the area if she wasn't coming to my place. (My brother-in-law was installing a new memory card in my computer.) She wanted to go to Target first and when she said she was going, I almost told her not to go. Weekend traffic around here has always been horrid but it's worse since the holiday season started. I should have said something. Next time listen to your instincts. Thank God it was just a little fender-bender, hopefully not too expensive especially at this time of the year. And thank God my brother-in-law stopped when he did because I don't even want to think about the injuries and damage if he hadn't. Fatalistic people say nothing is an accident and you are always where you're meant to be. Except when an accident does occur you can't make heads or tails of why it happened.

I watched a celebrity read one of her old letters to Santa on TV today. All I heard was "I want this, I want that". I thought, how crass that selfishness is what we're teaching kids. No wonder everyone feels entitled. We're raising spoiled children who overconsume and feel victimized if they don't get what they want.

My mom never used the "you better be good so Santa will give you presents" line on us. She never even encouraged us to let the fella know what we wanted. I only remember writing to Mr. Claus one time and I don't remember if I got what I asked for. Growing up in a third world country, you get what you get and you're thankful for it. There are many starving and impoverished children throughout the world who get nothing.

A piece of news that brightened my day: My co-worker is giving her 11 year old a piece of coal because she's just been horrible to her all year. I hope she won't cave and give her other gifts. I love Christmas, but not the escalating insanity that comes with it.

She always had a big smile on her face, joking around with her aide, telling us stories about her youth, her family, her cat. She always said "when I walk again", even though we probably both knew it wouldn't happen. We'd notice bruises on her, and we'd know she had tried to do things for herself again and probably fell. She never complained about anything, no "why me?" She always made me think how I would be if I were in her situation. We barely saw her husband and I always wondered what happened to "in sickness and in health"? And yet at least he was still around. How many times had I seen people leave when their spouses fell ill? She fought hard and made it to her 38th birthday. Over the weekend she lost the battle. We saw her grieving husband yesterday and he seemed very grateful that we were there. Although I figured a part of him was probably relieved that it was all over, he was of course distraught at having lost his life partner. No matter how long it takes for someone to pass on, I don't think you're ever really prepared for when it finally happens. She can rest now. Or knowing her, she's probably enjoying swimming and strolling up there. Goodbye Jen.

Marilou Ranario's death sentence in Kuwait was commuted to life imprisonment after Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo's meeting with the Emir. She was a schoolteacher who left the Philippines to eke out a living in a foreign land and provide a better life for her two kids. Not for the first time, an overseas Filipino worker killed her employer after allegedly suffering physical and verbal abuse. It is a double tragedy because now, who's going to take care of her children?

I was listening to the radio on my way to work this morning. The female morning crewmember was talking about her son going to a Montessori school and how they are taught the Peace Rose method of problem-solving. There is a peace rose available at all times and when there is a conflict between the children, whoever feels slighted gets the rose and gives it to the other kid. He/she talks about how he/she feels about the situation, and the other child apologizes. It's supposed to help kids recognize and express their feelings, and hopefully learn respect for other people's feelings.

Now I don't know how I feel about this. The male DJs were teasing her, saying how we're raising a generation of whiners. "Boohoo, you hurt my feelings!" Is the other kid sincere with the apologies? Does it really prepare them for the real world? I think I'm with the guys on this one. One of them said he prefers the old way of settling schoolyard battles...a good old-fashioned knifefight :) He was only kidding, of course. (I hope)


But with children, they are constantly fighting and arguing. "You took my scissors, you bumped into me, you're sitting in my seat." I wonder how long a rose lasts before it needs to be replaced. I am non-confrontational by nature and would probably never even go near it. Come to think of it, if this method was used in adult life, maybe I'LL get lots of peace roses.

It is hard enough to understand how someone could take his own life. Why someone would want to take down other people with him, especially strangers, is incomprehensible. The shoppers killed at the Nebraska mall shooting were Gary Scharf, 48 and John McDonald, 65. The employees killed were Angie Schuster, 36; Maggie Webb, 24; Janet Jorgensen, 66; Diane Trent, 53; Gary Joy, 56; and Beverly Flynn, 47. I was at a mall yesterday doing a little Christmas shopping, and thought how ordinary those 8 victims' days must have started. Working at the stores, maybe mall-walking, holiday shopping. The shooter wrote in his suicide note: "Now I'll be famous." He shall remain unnamed.