Alana's 365

Frustration

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Wed, 21 Jul 2010 23:42:00 +0000

The Husband has a business trip requiring at least one overnight stay each week from today until December.

Grateful for the boat load of airline miles and hotel points he'll be earning, but seriously Husband's Employer?! One trip a week (lasting from one night to one week) each week for 19 weeks!* I. Hate. You.

Anyone feel like taking an extended trip to Charlotte? I have extra bedrooms, large backyard and plenty of board games. Pets welcome.

Obviously, The Husband hates this, too. And part of me feels like I should just shut the hell up. The Husband is employed, can make our house payments without trouble and we have inexpensive health insurance. These work trips are good for his career and will reflect well within the company.

Still sucks, though.

* Ok, so a few of these trips I will be in tow and they include some awesome excursions for my birthday in November. However, I feel the situation entitles me to a bit of exaggeration.

Tales From an Empty Womb

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Tue, 04 May 2010 17:08:00 +0000

A short rant today.

I don't know how to handle my mother in-law. She has no grandchildren and speaks of this frequently.

She's not pushy or mean. Just utterly passive about how I am slowly destroying her well-being by my not producing babies. Lots and lots of babies.

My husband and I want to have children within the next two years, but if I leak this "time line" to his mother, I fear she will drive me considerably more crazy than she does right now.

She recently adopted a puppy to "fill the void" and is indirectly blaming me for her altered retirement plans: somehow she can no longer travel as she has a dog to take care for.

Help!

About The Hershey’s Better Basket Blog Hop

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 25 Mar 2010 04:47:00 +0000

This post is sharing some information about the Hershey’s Better Basket Blog Hop, beginning at 12 AM EST on March 18th and ending at 12 PM EST on April 4th, 2010. If you would like to join this cause, you could ask one of the participants to add you on their list. I have participated here.

How can we do this together? It’s simple:

Participate to Hershey’s Better Basket Blog Hop of giving away virtual Easter Baskets by creating a blog post with specific rules described here.

Hershey Company will donate $10 per each blog post to the Children's Miracle Network (CMN), up to total of $5,000.

One blog post per URL counts towards the donation, but you can give as many virtual Easter baskets as you want.

The Hershey’s Better Basket Blog Hop will officially begin at 12 AM EST on March 18th and end at 12 PM EST on April 4th, 2010. Blog posts submitted to us before or after that time period will not be counted for.

The blog post link has to be submitted to us for the donation to be counted.

In addition copy and paste the following text in your blog post:

HERSHEY’S BETTER BASKET BLOG HOP RULES

Copy and paste these rules to your blog post.
Create a blog post giving a virtual Easter Basket to another blogger – you can give as many Virtual Baskets as you want.
Link back to person who gave you an Easter Basket.
Let each person you are giving a Virtual Easter Basket know you have given them a Basket.
Leave your link at BetterBasket.info/BlogHop comment section. You can also find the official rules of this better basket blog hop, and more information about Better Basket with Hershey’s there.
Hershey’s is donating $10 per each blog participating to the Better Basket Blog Hop to Children’s Miracle Network (up to total of $5,000 by blog posts written by April 4th, 2010).
Please note that only one blog post by each blog url will count towards the donation.

Bless you all and have a wonderful day

PS. I noticed that the last image is out of frame, but I didn't change the size to maintain the post in its original form. Thank you.

A Good Day

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Mon, 08 Feb 2010 21:11:00 +0000

While visiting friends in Idaho a few months ago, I was asked by Laura about my favorite book. And I did not have an answer.

I have enjoyed a great many books over the years, but do not have a favorite. Not because none failed to impress me or they did not imprint something in my brain, but because I have never had that moment of being blown away by literature.

And that made me a little sad.

There are many passages and quotations that I love and adore, but then the story in its entirety was a let-down. This has been the case with fiction, which I have learned, I do not really enjoy.

Maybe that's the problem; I almost exclusively read non-fiction and because of that, there are no real surprises. Or my over-critical, unimaginative mind doesn't allow for the necessary "escape" and I do not process surprises, revelations and the like.

Boo me.

While at a bookstore over the weekend, I came across Harold Zinn's "A People's History of the United States", a book that I fondly recalled upon learning of Mr. Zinn's death last month. I was fortunate enough to have a teacher in high school that utilized this publication along side the regular text book; I believe this helped cultivate the US history nerd that is before you.

It also introduced me to the great mind that was Harold Zinn. I heard him lecture on democracy at Vasser College in 2000 and snuck into several more lectures at Boston College that same year. Emma is not performed often enough, but that's just me.

I purchased "A People's History" and started reading it last night. It all came back. The outrage and sadness about how this country came to be, the thankfulness for being born here and the gratitude for Mr. Zinn's words.

A favorite book? Maybe. What's yours?

Disaster Planning?

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Mon, 25 Jan 2010 19:42:00 +0000

Last night was my first real brush with a natural disaster: two tornado warnings where issued for my area. Thankfully, nothing serious happened, but it made me realize that I have no clue what to do during an emergency of this variety.

Do you have evacuation plans for your family and disaster kits assembled in your homes? I wrote about what my plans are here and am very interested in knowing what you have (or have not) done.

To Type or Not to Type...

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Mon, 11 Jan 2010 19:14:00 +0000

Recently I've been reliving the same argument with my husband: my personal blog. He loves it, supports it, but claims that he learns more about the inner workings of my brain from my blog rather than from me.

Does anyone else have this (or similar) problem?

I've never set out to embarrass friends or family and feel that I hold back a lot of my thoughts and emotions (I can never write about my mother in-law as long as she's alive) out of fear of what reactions they may garner from others. I have not divulged any deep, dark family secrets or been explicit regarding personal relationships, but it still bothers my husband that I can share my mundane anger or disappointment with total strangers and not him.

I don't see it that way at all.

I don't know how I see it, but that's not it.

He has a fair point and maybe this is just highlighting some on-going communication problems.

How do you decide what to write about?

Timing is Magic

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Wed, 30 Dec 2009 10:17:00 +0000

Bonjour from Paris! In these tough times most people are afraid to talk about the good going on in their lives. It seems people want to hide it so that it doesn't stir up feelings of envy or jealousy. Yes, it isn't easy to feel like you are walking in a field of dreams, realizing it takes a lot of faith and great timing to make the life of an expatriate teacher/writer work. Sometimes family members don't understand, or you start second guessing about certain positions causing your belly to fill up with knots of stress because you are going against the first human need in Maslow's Hierarchy of needs - Security. That need to be secure , is challenged continuously and sometimes you just have to realize that the tangible things you see are less as you go along on your journey. Often the journey is about taking steps along the way to get you to the places you love, the people you long to see. The very heart of your hopes, dreams, desires, and yes, even at times to face your fears.

My simple need was a new laptop in South Korea. Not just any laptop, I had already visualized the one I had wanted, which was a MacBook Air. I was stuck with this problem, which really was an opportunity. I had an old laptop, the keys were worn down, the spacebar had my thumbs indentation and loads of files and images that I wanted to hold on to, but I decided to let go and send it off to my son. The tool was no longer serving the purpose I had in mind for it so I shipped it off. My son had already let me know that he could use it. I let it go. It was difficult because that one instrument had traveled around the world with me and gave me very few problems.
I had decided to search once again the pages of Korea to see if I could find my dream laptop...and I saw one lone post in Seoul. I fired off my query and the deal was made with a young man, an expatriate teacher, a former corporate guy, named Nick. I didn't think about the significance of his name. I was just amazed that it was available, getting completely serviced at an Apple store in Korea, and instead of trying to find my way around Seoul to meet Nick...we both happened to be departing Korea on Christmas Day.

I was going to be converted, after all of these years on PC systems, to a Mac...on Christmas...and I almost felt like saying, "Yes Virginia, There is a young Santa Claus, St. Nick, who is teaching English in Seoul."

Sometimes you have to let go of the old to make room for something new in your life. I could have looked at this as just another acquisition, or purchase, but I knew it was a little bit more than that. It was exactly what I needed at the right place and time.

The magic of Christmas as Nick went off to Thailand with his fiancee and friends and I began my journey to Paris.

The Christmas Cat

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sun, 13 Dec 2009 20:42:00 +0000

When my dad died, I inherited Morris, an old striped-orange lap-cat with half a tail. Whenever my husband, Dave, sat down, that cat was in his lap. A few years later, just when we thought we were out of the cat business, three fluffy kittens were born under our deck. They roamed the woods that summer, learning to hunt with their mother. When the snow fell and their mother disappeared, they moved into our garage, then worked their way up the stairs to the wood stove and a full food dish. Morris didn’t mind the company and one small gray female we named Sweetie followed him around grooming his ratty fur.

About the time Morris was trying to set the record for the oldest orange short-tailed cat in California, we bought a small winter home in Arizona in a 55+ gated community. We began hauling four cats to and from Tucson. By then bow-legged, with that bony crown old cats get, Morris needed a step to get into bed and stood by the chair so Dave could lift him onto his lap. Morris died in Tucson three years ago– the day before Thanksgiving. Nurse Sweetie was by his side.

That Christmas, just before dark, the horned owl who lives on our street called for his mate. Outside on my porch, a tiny orange kitten hiding among the flower pots peeked through the glass door. I couldn’t hear him, but his mouth was saying, “Let me in quick. It’s freezing out here and that horned owl wants me for dinner.” I scooped him up, asked him if he was Morris, then checked his tail. This cat was orange with circles on each side. A white cross of longer hair ran down his backbone and across his shoulders. He had more tail than any cat needed. I put him down. He ran across to Dave, jumped in his lap and snuggled up. That night when Dave went to bed, he followed and crawled up beside him where Morris used to sleep.

Not everyone welcomed him. The next day, the other three realized there was a new kitten in the house who planned to hang around. Nurse Sweetie still missed Morris. She growled and crawled back under the bed. Rascal, the hunky mellow male cat hissed and warned this mouse-sized kitten to keep away– he was head honcho now and didn’t want him around. This new kitten flattened his ears, turned sideways and raced as fast as he could down the laminate floor and charged Rascal, knocking him off his feet, letting Rascal know he was here to stay. We began to worry Rascal might kill him. Rascal liked to dance backwards on hind feet swinging his catnip mouse by the tail in circles. That mouse often landed in the kitchen sink. Would this new kitten with the long tail end up in the sink? In the summer, the other fluffy female brought dead squirrels to drop by my door. The kitten nipped at her toes and I wondered if he’d soon be a present by my door.

By the time we could get him to the vet three days later, he’d settled in– more or less. We’d inspected his belly. He had fourteen evenly spaced white button spots on his belly. Dave named him Freckles. The vet checked his teeth and guessed he’d been born some time around Thanksgiving. Pets are only allowed in one small section. Somehow, he’d found his way to the pet section and one of the few homes with cats.

He was a pest. When he got wound up, the white cross on his back stood up and he’d zip around on the laminate floors banging into walls, or other cats. He’d crawl in drawers climbing up and down, peeking out at us, hiding if we tried to catch him. He was told, “Settle down, dammit” so often, I thought he might think that was his name. When I brought a new printer home, he decided it was his bed even before I hooked it up. He soon learned which button made the paper come out. He’d poke the button then bend over and watch the paper feed out.

Rascal and Freckles have battled since that first day. In their own special game, they charge up belly to belly then fall to the floor kicking and biting. Somehow nobody’s ever been hurt. And Sweetie, who grew moody and grouchy after Morris died, lets Freckles wash her face and snuggles up with him when she’s lonely.

Freckles would make a good Walmart greeter. He spends his mornings hanging out the window blinds, talking to dogs and people on their way down the street to the dog walk. A neighbor snapped his photo last year.

Photo By: Don Clute

Our Christmas Cat is three now. Still an irritating teenager who plays with the printer in the middle of the night, nips his sister’s toes when she’s catching a cat nap, and rides the round cat scratcher like a skate board, banging into walls when I’m trying to sleep. But our Christmas Cat is here to stay– and I’m glad.

Merry Christmas.

Carolyn Harris

AKA: Lyn Harris and Molly Brown

I blog about women’s issues on Lyn’s Circle and Wednesday’s Woman. I welcome guest posts on both blogs. I also blog on Traveling New Zealand.

How Are You Doing Today?

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 10 Dec 2009 12:54:00 +0000

How are you doing? That is a question that usually answered with, "I am fine, thank you." I have not posted for some time because I wanted to see what kind of direction we, as contributors would be going with this blog. There are a lot of wonderful writers that have pledged to contribute on a monthly basis. I have fallen short. We all have our own blogs and writing ventures that we have signed on to do. In a way, it is like watching what this community once was, kind of roll into a death spiral.

We didn't mean for it to happen, but right now, we are in the ICU of the blogosphere. Many of the blogs I have followed have trickled off to the aimless post to see if there is a heartbeat of a response, a comment, a twitter, or the best case scenario of being reposted somewhere.

It takes faith to realize that you created your blog with a vision (I hope so anyway). It didn't have to be pretty, but it had to be real....an element of you that you were presenting to the world. It takes guts to fall on your face and more guts to get up.

So, I am asking, all of us...a real question...What do we want to see TWCB turn into? We all need to commit to this blog to not just trumpet our latest project, but the dialogue going into what our writing means to us. Let's talk about our struggles, be supportive, and yes...wear our hearts on our sleeves.

This is a blog that drew me into finding some of the most fascinating wonderful women writers from around the world. I know you are out there....still.

All the best from Daegu, South Korea.

Longbourn's Unexpected Matchmaker

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 03 Dec 2009 22:03:00 +0000

Longbourn's Unexpected Matchmaker
by. Emma Hox

(copied from the publisher's website)

Would Pride and Prejudice have been different if Colonel Fitzwilliam had accompanied Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy to Netherfield?
What would happen if Mr. Darcy made friends with a mysterious member of the Meryton neighborhood who refuses an introduction but who has a close relationship with the Bennet household?
Elizabeth Bennet, the second of five daughters to Mr. Thomas Bennet has caught the attention of the rich and handsome Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy almost from the moment he laid eyes on her, but when he purposefully misinterprets her families expectation of her marrying well and slights her in a way unknown to those who have always loved Jane Austen's acclaimed Pride and Prejudice, he must leave forever or make amends. Sulking in the library he determines to leave the place and give her up, but is waylaid by a member of the Meryton neighborhood who claims an intimate acquaintance with the Bennet family and offers up advice on how to win Elizabeth's heart.
Longbourn's Unexpected Matchmaker puts a spin on Pride and Prejudice that no one would ever expect as Colonel Fitzwilliam attends Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy to Netherfield, Elizabeth Bennet is witty enough to detect the motives of Mr. Darcy's long time enemy Lieutenant Wickham and Georgiana Darcy is bold enough to defy her brother and cousin and comes to Meryton in the midst of a storm. Not to mention Caroline Bingley, Lieutenant Wickham and Lady Catherine are all working against our hero and heroine ever finding their own happily ever after.

Doesn't this sound thrilling?

My first experience with Jane Austen's novels occurred over 15 years ago and I've been a fan ever since. It all started with the book 'Emma' and the next thing I knew, I was hooked!
So imagine my surprise and excitement when I received an email from author, Emma Hox, asking me to review her book, Longbourn's Unexpected Matchmaker, on my blog!

Of course I said YES!

There are no words to describe how much I look forward to reading this intriguing version of Pride And Prejudice and I can hardly wait to let you know how I enjoyed it!

In the meantime, you can get your own copy at Amazon.com or directly through Rhemalda Publishing! Better yet, if you happen to live in the area, Emma Hox is debuting her new novel personally with a book signing at the Wenatchee Hastings: Friday, December 4 at 1:00 PM!
Address is: 315 North 9th St., Wenatchee, WA 98801.

If you can't make it to the Wenatchee Hastings on December 4th, but would like a signed copy, order yours directly from Rhemalda Publishing and be sure to note on your order that you are requesting a signature from the author!

Happy Reading!

A 'Last Chance' Gift Exchange!

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sat, 14 Nov 2009 02:38:00 +0000

Did you (like me) search frantically for a Christmas gift exchange to participate in this year, only to find that you somehow missed the deadline for Every Single One?

Have no fear...
I'm hosting a 'Last-Chance' Secret Santa Gift Exchange!

Whether you missed sign up deadlines, or you've only now realized that you would like to be involved in a gift exchange, or even if you are already participating in other exchanges and would like to join in on one more...
I'd love to have you join us!

Come on by Tranquility... and Turmoil to find out more and to sign up!

Would you ...could you?

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Wed, 11 Nov 2009 14:01:00 +0000

I need just one little vote for a photo contest. BUT - you get only one click. You can vote only one time for one image on the entire site. If you're interested in helping me, the link is here. You can change your mind at any time during the contest. But, the last image that you click on to vote for, will receive the vote. I submitted 6 photos because Examiner.com writers are permitted to sub for free. In any case, I'm not stoked about winning a prize, I'm stoked about winning the attention my photography needs, which is in my humble opinion the real prize. Anyhoo, looks like a few people have voted for the image of the boys drinking from the water fountain. It is a rare lucky shot I happened to get. Even if you don't vote, please take a look-see at the images. You'll enjoy them. Thanks ever so much for considering one of my images!

Today's Post Sponsored By The Letter...

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Tue, 10 Nov 2009 21:37:00 +0000

Happy 40th Birthday, Sesame Street.

This epic television series is now shown in 120 countries with a vast assortment of characters to cater to socio-economic and geographic-specific issues. My challenge to find another show with world-wide reach and appeal as this has come up empty.

Today the 4,186th episode aired and I sat down to watch and sadly, the only thing I took away was, "This show got strange."

And now the phrase I never thought I would utter: When I was a kid, there was a certain daring, brilliance to Sesame Street. It was for children and although it is still for children, I observed adult interference; an unnecessary safety net.

Or maybe my rose-colored glasses have changed focus.

Whatever my feelings, there is no denying Sesame Street's place in history and can only hope any children of my own will find the same joy that I did.

So many favorites, I won't force you to watch them all.

What are yours?

Dona Nobis Pacem (Grant Us Peace)

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 05 Nov 2009 03:30:00 +0000

November 5, 2009

The Peace Globe Gallery

One day. One voice.
All it takes is one post.
Won't you join us today?
If words are powerful...
then this matters.

How To Get Your Peace Globe

Happy Anniversary!

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Wed, 14 Oct 2009 05:27:00 +0000

Our dear friend Shirley at
Welcome To Shirley's Luxury Haven!

has been celebrating her 19th Anniversary

Wishing you a lifetime of
joy and blessings together, my dear.

Have a wonderful week, everyone!

Free Writing Contest

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Mon, 31 Aug 2009 22:45:00 +0000

Writing Contest

FundsforWriters is a wonderful website. I would highly recommend it to any writer. This is a great contest! - Kimberly

FundsforWriters Annual Essay Contest

FundsforWriters. com and VIPAuthors.com present an annual essay contest.

That growl you hear is me

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sat, 22 Aug 2009 02:50:00 +0000

That growl you hear is me

Though I'm frustrated with Mr. Immelt, I bought a front-loading energy saver GE washing machine, to replace my junk Whirlpool Gold that was barely 7 years old. The new one was delivered this morning. After a brief test and some instructions the delivery personnel left and I felt giddy with a new washer.

I quickly gathered a load of blue jeans tossed them in the machine, clipped open the sample packet of Tide HE, poured it into the reservoir, made the proper selections and pushed start. I tinkered with the new buttons a little and decided it was a very cool appliance. From time to time I peered into the machine and wondered if it was working right. There didn't appear to be much activity inside it.

An hour later when the load was supposed to be finished, it wasn't. It merely hummed. Thinking I must have tinkered too much pushing the new buttons, I turned the machine off and started over. An hour later, nothing but a hummmm. Exactly how I felt. I unplugged the machine, plugged it back in and set it to rinse and spin. An hour later, nothing plus a hummmm. No longer exactly how I felt. Instead I wanted to have an adult "I'm sick already of spending money on high end merchandise that doesn't work" tantrum.

I call GE. I call Lowe's. Though I'm tempted I don't call names and I'm very polite. But, dagflippitynabbit, I'm really ticked! I want a new machine and I want it now! GE and Whirlpool I have a message for you: PPPPLLLLLLBTTTTTTHHHHHHHHH!!!

Real Life..Christina DePauw Heald

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sun, 16 Aug 2009 09:20:00 +0000

For me, life is about others, and at times I have encountered the most wonderful people, who are just trying to get through life in the most ordinary way. I wanted to introduce someone incredibly special, Christina DePauw Heald. A woman, a mother and a wife who is in the fight of her life...

"I've realized this year that, for whatever reason, I was supposed to lose it all--or come really close. I have spent months in self-reflection and I have come to realize a few important things:

I can't control everything.

In order to become the person I want to be--I need to throw away the person I am.
I spent my 20's hung up on my outward beauty. I spent much of my 30's working on my inner beauty. What I realize finally in my 40's is that your LASTING beauty is what will ultimately define you. "Christina DePauw Heald writes a blog about her struggles and battles with breast cancer. Finding her, in this maze of the world wide web of information and disinformation was not unlike finding a long lost sister.

Most of us have been touched by someone who is battling this disease. They have good days, bad days, and mostly people honestly don't know what to say as the exchange hopeful smiles and secretly hopes they are not the ones who have to some day hear the news that seemingly too many people are hearing, "you have cancer." The reality I live with is that the odds are not in my favor, but I refuse to think about it. You don't want to open Pandora's box, and yet every month I breathe a sigh of relief that nothing is wrong (yet).

My mother, was only 55 years old, diagnosed with Stage IV of ovarian cancer and died 2 months and 5 days later. Yes, it was horrible. However, like Christina, she tried to impart as much wisdom as she could before she died in between treatments that seemed to only make her die more quickly. Treatment looked worse than the disease. Anyone who chooses to go through treatment is making a decision to fight like hell to live. They are courageous.

I had many other friends who have battled this disease, and two women that I remembered the most who were going through treatment at the same time, at the same stage...where one lived and one died. It totalled my surviving friend, burdened her with survivor's guilt when she received the news that her body was clear of the disease shortly after the death of her friend.

This mortality we are all cursed with, was a lesson. That too often we don't enjoy life and don't value each other enough. I encourage you to stop by Christina's blog, Specifically Speaking and offer your words of support and encouragement. She is a heroine in a time when the world has gone mad.

Marilyn Campiz
Writer, author, poetess
The Lotus Sutra Chronicles - An American ex-patriot's personal blog about her adventures, observations, and personal quests for art and a good red wine while teaching English in Daegu, South Korea.

What's in a Name?

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 13 Aug 2009 21:56:00 +0000

I changed my surname four months after getting married. Women representing multiple generations generously offered their unsolicited opinions by stating I “caved to conformity” or was an example of feminism gone too far; how could I have waited so that long and shown so much disrespect for my husband and his family?

The reality of the situation is I did not feel like going to the Social Security office and the DMV.

Full of pre-teen angst and sure the history of this name changing ritual had roots amongst the mindset of treating and trading women as commodities, I frequently tested the tolerance of my gender-role traditionalist, hyper-religious father by proclaiming, “I am not a piece of property!” and demand to know why upon getting married I was “expected to exchange one man’s name for another?” It is unknown if the anger my father displayed was due to my obstinance or my three younger sisters being within earshot.

As I got older, I really started to love my surname; I could not be Jessica without Eiden. It was slightly odd and just rare enough that my siblings and I knew if a stranger could pronounce it correctly it was assumed they were acquainted with a member of our extended family.

On the other hand, my middle name invoked feelings of a different nature, despite it also being a family name.

Louise has been the middle name of the first-born daughter for generations on the maternal side of my family tree. It always made me cringe; mean old ladies with fierce old lady hair were named Louise. It also dumbfounded me as I have an older sister.

Years later, while discussing the choice with my then-fiancé, I decided that not only would I take his surname, I would replace my middle name with my maiden name. Quite the traditional move for this non-traditional gal.

In February of this year I found myself standing in line at the Social Security office without my morning coffee. An hour later, the clerk took my faded card, tossed it aside and asked me to sign here and here. Two weeks went by and an envelope arrived.

The whole process was so easy and effortless, not a single consequence crossed my mind. I opened the envelope and saw my new name. I shuddered. I sat. I sobbed. And sobbed. And sobbed.

What had I done?

There, on a very official government document was this foreign name. Jessica Eiden Smedley. Who the hell was that? I had no idea and did not care to learn.

It felt like my past was being erased and the only person to blame was me. The irrational thoughts continued; somehow I had to return to my very expensive alma mater for the repeating of my undergrad because Jessica Eiden Smedley never went to college. I was not even sure she had the high school transcripts to submit for college admission. Who was going to tell my siblings they were down a sister? Were the numbers in my mobile telephone automatically disappearing? Is Jessica Eiden Smedley a vegetarian? A runner? Registered as an Independent?

In a matter of seconds I had reduced myself to a friendless, meat-eating, apathetic nobody trying to pass the kindergarten entrance exam by spelling her name correctly. And failing.

My husband found me crying in the dining room.

“You didn’t have to do it.”

He was right, but honoring my commitments is just another way to showcase all of my stubborn glory. No matter how ridiculous.

The following month I received rather distressing news from my best friend and was soon on an airplane bound for my hometown 3,000 miles away. During my month long stay, I spent a few nights at my mother’s house.

My parents were divorced many years ago. This shattered the family emotionally in ways that are still felt today, so to recognize the historical significance of this seemingly mundane event, one would require much more time to write than I have available as well as signed disclosures from the family attorney and mental health professionals.

It was big. It was important. It was going just fine.

Wanting a lunchtime excursion found my mother, my youngest sister, her girlfriend and myself driving downtown. I was taking my turn in a spirited conversation with my sister, which included a playful insult. Her jaw dropped and between fits of laughter she managed, “Jessica Louise Eiden! That is so gross!”

“You know that is not my name anymore, right?”

“Oh, right. Jessica Louise Smedley! That is so gross!”

“Actually, I took Eiden as my middle name.”

My sister continued to talk about…something. I did not hear a word because of the look on my mother’s face. She was driving so I could not get the full effect, but what I saw while in the passenger seat, was more than enough.

Her single look conveyed a level of sadness that I did not think possible from a woman that had unfairly been plagued by grief throughout her 51 years. The wind was knocked out of me and my body went numb.

Her convictions were always understated. She would not remind me that her middle name, my grandmother’s middle name and great-grandmother’s middle name were elegant protests against the unfortunate occurrences caused by the men in their lives. She would remain silent and refuse to show any vulnerability in front of her daughters.

I chose Eiden over Louise. I chose him over her.

I broke my mother’s heart.

After lunch we went to my favorite bookstore where I managed to break away from the group and locked myself in the bathroom. I sobbed. And sobbed. And sobbed. I just could not get it right.

Jessica Eiden Smedley has existed for six months. The petty, unreasonable thoughts have been replaced by small grins when I forget to sign “Smedley” or do not recognize my name being called. I insist upon the full version of my name because I cannot be Jessica without Eiden.

But, if anyone ever slipped Louise in there, I would not mind.

Jessica Eiden Smedley is the author of Have We Met? A foolish and preposterous blog about her foolish and preposterous life. Many thanks to Laura Parsons for her edits and kind words.

Creationz Unwrapped

noreply@blogger.com (Alana) — Thu, 18 Jun 2009 21:23:00 +0000

Blog

This blog is about arts, crafts and cooking

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Comma Goddess Speaks

noreply@blogger.com (Alana) — Mon, 15 Jun 2009 20:12:00 +0000

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The Comma Goddess Speaks: Musings on Life's Joys & Vexations," offers up observations and opinions on motherhood, manners, wisdom, words, and more. It's creative, conservative, does not suffer fools gladly, and has a definite Southern drawl.

Bio

I'm a writer in Greenville, South Carolina, passionate about poetry, family, friends, and faith. I'm the author of four books of poetry and maintain two websites: www.jaynejaudonferrer.com and www.yourdailypoem.com.

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Embracing My Journey

noreply@blogger.com (Alana) — Mon, 15 Jun 2009 20:05:00 +0000

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Enjoy the writings and ramblings of Caryn Gottlieb FitzGerald. Caryn has survived anorexia, bulimia and abusive relationships....she was at the brink of and choose to live. Today she is happy, healthy and assisting others in creating lives of abundance and joy!

Bio

I am an author and professional speaker who has been sharing my love of the written word for over 25 years. I am the author of “Tulips in the Sand” the first novel in the Riley Matthews Mystery series, a featured author in "Manifest Success: The Ultimate Guide to Creating the Life of Your Dreams” and proudly co-authored a gratitude workbook for children in 2007 with my 6-year-old daughter, Sami FitzGerald. I made the choice to live and prosper after spending a decade in abusive relationships while secretly living with anorexia and bulimia. Today, I am healthy and I'm creating prosperity through my passions as I share my inspirational story with people around the world. I reside in Texas with my husband and daughter. For more information please visit: http://www.CarynFitzGerald.com.

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Rainbow Gate

noreply@blogger.com (Alana) — Sat, 13 Jun 2009 21:33:00 +0000

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In 2006 I quit my job to follow my heart and dreams. In other words I jumped off a cliff. This weblog is the story of what happened and is still happening as a result of that jump.

Bio

My name is Robin Rainbow Gate. I was born to two artists and grew up in Chicago. I am an honorer of stories through the medium of video (documentarian, video portrait maker), a photographer and a writer and representative for a particular Mexican mask maker. I lived five years abroad in my twenties and returned to the states in 1985, to Lexington, Kentucky. I lived there for 22 years, not feeling connected to the earth there and feeling that loss deeply. In 2006 I left the states for Latin America, where I actually feel my roots and have found home.

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Rainbow Days

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Mon, 11 May 2009 17:17:00 +0000

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I blog about how my kids turned me into a maternal woman.

Bio

I live and work in Gurgaon, outside India's capital city, Delhi. I have 3 kids, all under 10. I'm a serial hobbyist and many of my hobbies have now turned into blogs - food, design, reading etc.

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Anindita Sengupta

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sat, 25 Apr 2009 00:16:00 +0000

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Anindita Sengupta is a poet, writer and journalist in Bangalore, India. This is her personal weblog where she writes about poetry, gender and travel among other things.

Bio

Anindita Sengupta works as a freelance writer and editorial consultant in Bangalore, India. She specializes in writing about art, culture, society and development. Her clients include Iconoculture, a global consumer research firm; and Fida, a Finnish development organisation. As a journalist, she writes about books, gender, documentary film, social and cultural issues, and travel. She has been published in The Guardian (UK), Tehelka, The Hindu, Deccan Herald, Mid-Day and Marie Claire. She is also founder and executive editor of Ultra Violet, a website on contemporary feminist issues in India. Her poetry has been published in Pratilipi, Quay Journal, Cha: An Asian Journal, Kritya, Muse India, Yellow Medicine Review, Talking Poetry and several anthologies. In 2008, she received the Toto Funds the Arts Award for Creative Writing.

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