Am…musings

In the fall, I cashed in my change jar for about $90. Not too shabby for money I hadn’t missed, but it took me several years to reach that point. Plus over the past year or so, my change saving slowed in direct correlation to a new client whose offices are downtown requiring meter parking (although my friend and coworker Chrissy will tell you that I rarely ever have change for the meter and she’s always bailing me out!).

I found a new strategy in a Women’s Day mag … start saving $5 bills as you would your change. I believe the family featured in the article saved almost $2,000 over a one-year period and used the money for vacation.

By Photos8.com on Flickr

There are two $5 bills laying on the table next to me that are headed for the jar (although I’m thinking I may need to exchange my jar for a different container). There are also a few dimes, nickels and pennies because quarters are best for meters. I’ll keep you posted on my progress. And I’d love to hear if you have a change jar story or unusual strategy.

When I left Orlando to return to St. Louis nine years ago, I wondered if I’d miss all the magic of the theme parks. There are times when that is the case, but I think plenty of magical things can be found in our lives everyday.

Yesterday morning I was treated to a magical site in my dining room. The sun was hitting a candle holder on my dining room table just right, and it created a star field on the walls and ceiling.

The candle holder itself, which is iridescent, also looked gorgeous in the morning light.

And honestly, it may have made me smile even more than the magical sights in Orlando because it was such an unexpected, pleasant surprise.

I partook at one of my favorite Chinese restaurants tonight. When it comes to fortune cookies, I’m not a big fan of the philosophical fortune, but tonight’s was actually pretty good … particularly at this start of a fresh new year:

The only man who never makes mistakes is the man who never does anything.

And the restaurant is Lemay Wok in South County in the ‘Lou (on the lower level of the area where Sam’s is). It’s a bit of a hole in the wall (although always clean), but the food is yummy and the service is always wonderful!

By Jonathan Gayman on Flickr

OK … I’m scheduling this to post while I’m recovering from my surgery. I prefer to post things real time, but I wanted to squeeze in one last post from my December Glamour in December, and this is pretty much it.

First Lady Michelle Obama was another Woman of the Year. Whatever your politics I think some of the advice that she shared in an interview with Katie Couric is worth hearing:

“I have always tried to put my kids first, and then … put my self a really close second, as opposed to fifth or seventh. One thing that I’ve learned from male role models is that they don’t hesitate to invest in themselves, with the view that, if I’m healthy and happy, I’m going to be a better support to my spouse and children.

“All we can do as women is make the best decisions for us. And that includes everything from how you look to how you dress to whether you choose to stay at home or work when you have kids. All those decisions are so personal, and we have to start with finding what brings us joy and what brings us our own individual confidence. And if we’re feeling good with those choices, then it makes what everybody else has to say less important.

“Cute’s good. But cute only lasts for so long, and then it’s, Who are you as a person? That’s the advice I would give to women: Don’t look at the bankbook or the title. Look at the heart. Look at the soul. Look at how the guy treats his mother and what he says about women. How he acts with children he doesn’t know. And, more important, how does he treat you? When you’re dating a man, you should always feel good. You should never feel less than. You should never doubt yourself. You shouldn’t be in a relationship with somebody who doesn’t make you completely happy and make you feel whole.”

December, of course, was a crazed month. But I still have a few days to fit in a couple of wonderful excerpts from my December Glamour. I found this one particularly inspiring … a poem I’d never seen from another Woman of the Year … Maya Angelou. Here it is:

Phenomenal Woman
Pretty women wonder where my secret lies.
I’m not cute or built to suit a fashion model’s size
But when I start to tell them,
They think I’m telling lies.
I say,
It’s in the reach of my arms
The span of my hips,
The stride of my step,
The curl of my lips.
I’m a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.

I walk into a room
Just as cool as you please,
And to a man,
The fellows stand or
Fall down on their knees.
Then they swarm around me,
A hive of honey bees.
I say,
It’s the fire in my eyes,
And the flash of my teeth,
The swing in my waist,
And the joy in my feet.
I’m a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.

Men themselves have wondered
What they see in me.
They try so much
But they can’t touch
My inner mystery.
When I try to show them
They say they still can’t see.
I say,
It’s in the arch of my back,
The sun of my smile,
The ride of my breasts,
The grace of my style.
I’m a woman

Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.

Now you understand
Just why my head’s not bowed.
I don’t shout or jump about
Or have to talk real loud.
When you see me passing
It ought to make you proud.
I say,
It’s in the click of my heels,
The bend of my hair,
the palm of my hand,
The need of my care,
‘Cause I’m a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.

Winter is the price I’m willing to pay for spring and fall. Winter is the price I’m willing to pay for spring and fall. Winter is the …

My sweet, slightly philosophical line at all other times of year becomes my mantra in winter … repeated over and over as I can see my breath and no longer feel my fingers and toes when I’m standing outside for any extended period of time in this 20- and 30-degree frigidness.

The line came to me when I needed a pithy reply after about the fiftieth time of being asked why on earth I’d returned to St. Louis after living in Florida.

Spring … with her tulips, blooming trees and excitement of fresh beginnings … and fall … with her gorgeous foliage, crisp air and desire to relish every last minute of pretty weather … really were instrumental in my decision. Those things simply don’t exist in the Sunshine State. I also missed Missouri’s lush rolling hills and rivers and streams. Don’t get me wrong … Florida is beautiful too, and I count a few of its residents as some of my closest friends. Because of that, I’ve always said I have two homes … when I’m in Florida, I miss St. Louis. When I’m in St. Louis, I miss Florida. But ultimately … at least at this point in my life … St. Louis has won my heart.

Of course, there’s still this bitter cold to contend with. My mantra and another reminder of something I didn’t have in Florida are getting me through so far this year. The other reminder? It’s this great song by Owl City about fireflies. I didn’t even realize Orlando is nearly firefly-less until I moved back to St. Louis. As crazy as it sounds, the little bugs just make me smile … as does this song … even as I listen and sing along with visible breath in the car as I wait for it to warm up.

I sometimes feel guilty for having a cleaning lady … a splurge basically because I’m lazy.

When I feel that way (or when I feel the need to justify it to others), I go back to the reason I did it. My third spring on Kit Drive was approaching and I was starting to feel the same stress I felt the two springs prior … the stress of trying to keep up with the yard, the cleaning, the laundry, etc. all by myself. A cleaning lady or a lawn helper were the obvious solution (although as much as I hate doing laundry, I really did give a lot of thought to getting out of that). I decided I much preferred being outside and getting the exercise of mowing (a decision I only question when I have to mow on 98+ degree days).

Yet, as the economy has tightened, I often wonder if I should have her come less frequently or not at all. The past week or so has cured me of that. I was out of town the entire week of Thanksgiving so I had her skip her regular cleaning time that Friday after Turkey Day. Fast forward a week and my house looked like a tornado hit it. Being out of town for week meant there was less dirt in the tub, the sink, etc. … but what I think is just as important for me is that her coming forces me to straighten all the clutter. When I get busy (which is typically always … and particularly so this time of year), it’s easy to let the crap pile up. The every-two-week cleaning schedule keeps me in line … the week after she’s been here, I’m reluctant to mess it up … and I know if I keep it relatively uncluttered the next week before she’s back again, I won’t have to scramble the night before she’s here.

I’m looking forward to getting back on track after she cleans tomorrow … now off to finish cleaning for the cleaning lady.

In addition to the virgin letters that inspired a recent post (which caused a great deal of discussion in my office, btw), this month’s Glamour was chock full of little tidbits. Here’s one …

I haven’t really been an SNL fan since the 70s … when it was fun and seemed a bit taboo to watch as a kid, but Amy Poehler always made me laugh when I’d seen clips or occasionally tuned in. I’m also impressed that she’s married to the very funny and clever Will Arnett. This month Poehler was featured as one of Glamour magazine’s Women of 2009. The blurb about her accomplishments, which focus on empowering young women, mentioned Smart Girls at the Party, a Web show hosted by Poehler. The wonderfully named show celebrates girls who are changing the world by being themselves. Encourage the young girls in your life to check it out at On Networks.

As a girl, I guess I’m supposed to be terrified of spiders. I actually dig ‘em … although not in an “I’m going to go out and get a tarantula” kind of way. I guess I’d classify it as a healthy respect or even slightly anxious amazement. It boils down to the fact that I’m mesmerized by the beauty of their intricate and useful webs and the apparent ease with which they weave them.

Also, the aforementioned Mrs. Schlueter instilled compassion in us and encouraged us to not kill bugs … outdoors or indoors (she advocated the tissue method for getting them back outside). For Mrs. Schlueter, this compassion extended to other creatures … we actually had a bat come into our classroom and she practically freaked when someone suggested killing it. However, in my book this courtesy does not extend to anything that can sting me, as well as mosquitoes, flies, roaches or June bug … and if a bat or snake came into my house … I’d first hyperventilate and then call someone to whack ‘em.

That said, I pretty much leave spiders alone in the house … unless they look like a Brown Recluse or are potentially large enough to wreak havoc with a bite. And when they are outside, I definitely don’t bother them … and occasionally enjoy watching them, which is the case now and was two years ago. In both cases two fairly large spiders wove large webs between my soffit and the bushes below … two years ago, it was a gorgeous white one and this year, it’s a more traditional black and brown. Amazing!

I’m not ashamed to admit it … I’m 38 years old and this is my latest guilty pleasure:

In the car on the way to work this morning, I turned it up and couldn’t help myself from “noddin’ my head like yeah; moving my hips like yeah.”

I also know all the words and sing them loudly (in the car with the windows up!) when this Miley song comes on:

Yeah … I know these songs are cheesy and that I’m way too old to be listening to them, but they just makes me smile.

What’s your guilty pleasure?