It’s been in the past few years that I have noticed (or my husband has pointed out) little and big things I do that are a mirror image of….my mom. 

Phyllis. You can find her in her backyard studying birds, creating a new soup recipe, chasing one of her grandkids in the front yard, walking to the beach with my dad and the pup, trying a new lunch spot with one of her kids, speaking at marriage conferences, counseling women.

She effortlessly pens beautiful calligraphy, whips up a killer Thanksgiving table and meal, celebrates birthdays like it’s her j-o-b.

She has mastered the art of listening.

She loves selflessly.

She vacations with my dad and they have a BLAST. They really know how to have fun.

She accepts you JUST as you are and tells you so.

She has time, no matter how busy she is.

If she’s with you, she’s 100% with you.

She’s silly and has been known to laugh at slightly inappropriate things.

She dances. She sings. She’s independent. She appreciates flowers.

She sprints from ride to ride at 6 flags.

She showed my scripture and told me loving God and loving others is the only way to live.

My mother never pretended to be perfect. She embraced her flaws and worked on them. I watched her. She spoke wisdom and truth. She told me when she was having a bad day. I listened to her. She cried in front of me, she was weak at times. She let me into her heart. She gave me room to grow. She let me be a kid. She told me I could tell her anything, and she was right. I could, and I did. I still do.

Growing up, she did things that would get under my skin. She was stubborn about things I didn’t get. She often sat on the porch, or walked around the neighborhood in her PJ’s. She did laundry in the front entry. She will only go to one lady to get her nails done. She doesn’t like coffee..I mean, come on. grr.

8am Tuesday morning, I found myself in my neighbors house..checking out her new bathrooms; I held Reese in her jammies as we drooled over subway tile. I chatted with Martin, our gardener…said hello to another neighbor as she walked her 2 labradors. I walked back in, leaving the front door open behind me and Reese took a plop on the front step. I was in my jammies..bed head, plaid pants, the whole 9 yards.

I laughed.

Us momma’s influence runs deep . As I think about all I have gleaned from my mother, good and weird…I am reminded how crucial my role is in the life of my little girl. I have A LOT to learn, but I’m thankful this moment on what I have learned from my mother; as the years go by and I become even more like her, I’ll be quite alright with that

JH

To Cal and Simone–you should know that it’s a lot more fun than these poems suggest–
and

for Brenda, who knows…

Brenda is Teicher’s wife, who makes many appearances in the collection (actually throughout his work– his first collection was entitled Brenda is in the Room and other poems.)

To Keep Love Blurry is tied together by two major themes. One his mother and father, particularly after his mother’s death. And two, his marriage to Brenda, their (apparently) special-needs son, and Teicher’s sullen acceptance of love.  Indeed, for Teicher love–both familial and marital– is more of an anchor than a source of flight. Here is he about motherhood:

My wife is not my mom. My mom is not
my mom. My father is not my mom. My boss
is not my mom. She is a tooth with rot,
a flower pressed between the pages of a lost
book. My son is not my mom. She is a mare
crushing my skull beneath her hoof. She is forever
starved. I ride to the edge of the earth clutching her hair.
Get it over with. It’s never OK, not ever.
Fuck it, whatever.  If Robert Frost is my mom,
then so is Robert Lowell. She taught me to talk.
She is where I’m headed, a bomb
crater. She forgives me like a hunting hawk.
Maybe she’s my boss’s boss, my wife’s other other lover,
my son’s midnight cough. She loves me like a brother.

(“My Mom, d. 1994″)

The perfection of form–a modern Shakespearean sonnet with A-B-A-B…rhyme scheme, a regular rhythm, an unusual octet, quatrain, couplet construction–is made inconspicuous by the language, the odd identifications of motherhood, with unusually negative words: “tooth with rot,” “a mare crushing my skull,” ” a bomb crater,” “my wife’s other other lover.”  What exactly are his feelings?  “Loves me like a brother” does not cut it for me.  Perhaps the secret lies in the allusion to Robert Frost and Robert Lowell.  Teicher quotes a Lowell poem as an epigraph to his collection:

“Those blessed structures, plot and rhyme–
why are they no help to me now…”

Perhaps Teicher is saying that the “blessed structures” of poetry–with which he is extraordiaryily adept–are no longer to sufficient to buoy one in the sourness of modern life.  Here he is similarly on friendship, marriage and love:

In just the couple years since two by two
we all began to partner off,
already we’ve practically retired, passing though
apartment doors shut tighter than a cough.
There used to be long, wasted hours of talk,
nothing secret between us, not even skin;
at the conclusion of a wandering walk,
the flirtatious dark would set in.
Is marriage lonely by design,
in hopes that obeying an age-old law
of I am only hers, she is only mine
forms a brittle scab over the always-raw
wound of too much intimacy between friends
in favor of a duller aching that never ends.

(“Friendship”)

Again, the “plot and structure” to which Lowell refers are exquisite: a Shakespearean sonnet, intricately wrought and patterned. But for the speaker, the poetry is subsumed by the “duller aching” and “brittle scab.”

Mixed among the villanelles and sonnets, the rhyming couplets and the longer verse, there is a series of prose ruminations on the death of his mother and the subsequent loneliness of his father. These too are notable for their raw honesty, their unflinching introspection.

Well-wrought and linguistically daring, To Keep Love Blurry is evidence of Teicher’s impressive talent. However, I found it sullen and pouty and self-indulgent. Nevertheless, such is Teicher’s poetic cleverness and adroitness that I will surely keep my eye out for his future work.

Advice to Someone Who Is Blocked in Their Writing

You have to be willing to write just, “I cannot think of anything to write, I have nothing to say. I don’t understand why I feel this way, but I do…” and just go on, even repeating yourself, until something comes to you. I have been doing my Creativity Project every day for over a year now. Often I have nothing to write, but I begin and just talk to myself on the page, and it usually leads to something. Do not stare at the blank page… write… even if it is the same sentence over again… eventually you will break through. The mind will begin to create. I truly believe it works because I do it. I was severely blocked before I began my Creativity Project, but now I write every day: A journal entry and poem a day, plus a gratitude list, some encouragement, and a prompt. I know it works. You can do it, I have. You have to want it and not be afraid to fail… if you call not writing beautifully every day a fail.

Perfectionism is very hard on creativity. You have to banish the harsh internal editor and write, even badly. You do not have to share what you write with the world, though I do, but you have to write. You have to give yourself permission to do the work without expectation of perfection. Realizing that nothing is actually perfect may help you. No matter how well we do a thing there is always room for improvement, so nothing is perfect. You do not have to be so hard on yourself. Write for yourself, amuse yourself, you might surprise yourself and find you want others to share your discovery. Loosen up and allow the making of mistakes. Some of the most fortunate things I have done were mistakes that led to something wonderful. Learn from your efforts. There is always the chance to edit what you write and improve it, after it is written.

I know this works, because I have made the journey from being unable to put down a sentence, to writing each day. It is not an easy journey, but it begins with desire and a willingness to start. The effort is most assuredly worthwhile. Had someone told me I could write every day for over a year when I began my Creativity Project, I would have told that person it was impossible. I have done it. It worked for me. It is possible. I am no one special. It can, with dedication and willingness to accept whatever work you do, also work for you.

Make the effort and you will find it gets easier with time. I still have days on which I have nothing to write, but I begin there and keep going. Eventually the words begin to flow. They may not be beautiful words, but they are mine, and being original in my creation is one of my goals, as is getting words on the page. You and I do not have to be perfect, that is not reality. We just have to be willing to do the best of our ability in the moment. It is good enough and it will fill pages… Try it and see…

Jo Ann J. A. Jordan
Thursday, May 2, 2013

Ideally

It is not ever
All about you, it is not
All about me, but
It is about who we can
Become relying on God.

We are only parts
Of the wonderful plans made
By the Creator,
Fulfilling His purposes
Through our actions in the world.

Jesus uses us
To accomplish whatever
Needs to be done in
The places where we are put,
In the times we come forward.

We will never be
Called upon to give more than
We are made able,
We are holy instruments
In the hands of awesome God.

It is not ever
All about you, it is not
All about me, but
It is about who we can
Become relying on God.

Jo Ann J. A. Jordan
Thursday, May 2, 2013

I am grateful:

1.   Mom slept through the night without waking up in pain.
2.   I read over 100 pages in The Legend Of Broken by Caleb Carr, which puts me a little closer to finishing the book.
3.   I carried on conversations with a few people overnight.
4.   I started my Facebook page.
5.   We travelled to and from Mom’s appointment safely.

My Thursday has gone reasonably well. I hope your day was very pleasant. I encourage you to engage your imagination in doing something creative. I am convinced you can accomplish anything you are willing to commit to doing. You have the talent to make a wonderful contribution to our world.

As a prompt, write about your strategy for overcoming creative block. You may want to write a poem, story, or journal entry that explores this issue. If you use this prompt, please leave a link to your work in the comments below.

Thank you so much for reading my blog. I hope it has encouraged you. Please visit often, but you might also want to enter your email address in the space provided above to subscribe to Chronicles. If you have thoughts, suggestions, or criticism to share, please leave a comment.

Always,
Jo Ann

Basically, Europe was having their little war thing. The newly opened Japan wanted to be all hip with the youngsters or something like that, so they decided to get involved. Despite the fact that Germany was all “Vie isht marching into Poland rawr” Japan apparently doesn’t understand geography and decided to bomb Hawaii instead of any of the countries Germany was actually fighting. (Meanwhile, Italy had also sided with Germany because they’re dumb, apparently.) So then America was like “Woah dudes Japan like totally bombed us just now! *Loading* …IT’S GERMANY’S FAULT!” which makes absolutely no sense whatsoever. So now apparently America is somehow “involved” in a war halfway across the planet, when really you’d think it’d be a separate war between just America and Japan, but I guess not. Go figure. Then America bombed Japan back, and for some reason Germany was like “WOAH HOLY CRAP VIE SURRENDER!”

Yep. Makes PERFECT sense, doesn’t it? *Sarcasm*

But yes. That’s basically how my mom described it to me. She should be a teacher. xD

The other day, I brought in the mail. I knocked on her door as a warning before I entered, as I always do. Maybe I imagined it, but I was pretty sure she was watching a Harlem Shake video. Not any Harlem Shake video, but a Harlem Shake video of dogs. Before I could process anything, she turned and snapped “I’M WORKING!” before I ran out.

I was pretty sure the video was this one:

Within moments, I knew I had a mission. I needed to see my mom’s youtube video history.

THE MISSION

Getting on her computer was actually really easy… so to be honest my mission only took about five minutes. When she was finished with her work (the door was now opened), I asked my mom if I could check my email on her computer. Not questioning the fact why I had to check on her computer, when there are seriously 3 other computers within a five foot radius, she obliged. I took my screen captures, sent them to myself through her email, and ran to my own computer to look at the evidence.

THE RESULTS

These were the first four:

I KNEW IT WAS THE HARLEM SHAKE WITH ANIMALS. Wait… I started to process everything… What is my mom watching? I only was able to get a list of her last 21 videos, so the sampling may be a little small. STILL, I did find some interesting results:

• 7 out of 21 videos were Harlem Shake videos.
• 7 out of 21 videos were about animals, mostly dogs and cats, but there was one video starring a hamster.
• 4 videos were Harlem Shake videos FEATURING animals.
• 2 videos were on strange medical conditions.
• 1 was a video aimed at children so that they learn about the colors of the rainbows:

Oh and the last one was…

I don’t even know to interpret the data, except to say, that there’s a little more going on behind closed doors than I thought.

For your enjoyment please find below the remaining videos of the list:

I actually wrote the following poem on Monday and had already posted my blog, then I forgot to post it yesterday. So I hope you enjoy it.

Unsung Heroes

They’re the ones who stand
Backstage, out of the spotlight,
With quiet support
For every flamboyant act
Performed before the rapt crowd.

They’re the ones who say
Constant prayers for those who brave
Terrible dangers,
A hot line to God’s power
Is kept open by their pleas.

They’re the ones seldom
Wanting any credit for
The sacrifice they
Ever so willingly make
To keep everyone else safe.

They’re the ones who will
Never mention quitting in
The face of defeat,
They have hope and faith to keep
On fighting despite the odds.

They’re the ones who don’t
Voice their doubts in the hearing
Of others who might
Then lose heart, they continue
Believing to the finish.

They’re the ones who make
Other lives worth living with
Their dedication
To lifting up their fellows
Helping them their tasks complete.

Jo Ann J. A. Jordan
Monday, April 29, 2013

Today’s poem, which is actually a rap song, follows:

Nonsensical Rhythm

Ooo la la…
Di op, dippity, whop, do…
That’s how it goes
When I am trying
To think of a song
To make into a poem
To write for me and you.

Ooo la la…
Di op, dippity, whop, do…
I got the music
In me and want to
Get the music inside
Of you too, so I keep
Writing until I do.

Ooo la la…
Di op, dippity, whop, do…
It does not make a lot
Of sense, but it is not
Necessary that it does,
It just has to reach out
And grab ahold of you.

Ooo la la…
Di op, dippity, whop, do…
Get yourself up,
Jump, shout, and move,
Sing out the song
I’m sharing with you,
Making it a part of you.

Ooo la la…
Di op, dippity, whop, do…
That’s how it goes
When I am trying
To think of a song
To make into a poem
To write for me and you.

Jo Ann J. A. Jordan
Wednesday, May 1, 2013

I am grateful:

1.   It was only cloudy and did not rain.
2.   I was able to get the x-rays from Doctor Desai’s office.
3.   I was able to get an appointment with Doctor Patel’s office.
4.   Mom saw Doctor Bueno and he helped her some.
5.   Carrie Leigh cut the grass in our little yard.

I had a stressful Wednesday, but it turned out alright. I hope you had a blissfully happy day. Now do as I have done and let your creativity loose to make something that can enrich your life and those of your readers. I know that you can do wonderful things if you only make an effort.

As a prompt, write a rap that begins with some nonsensical words in rhythm. I had never done this before today, but I quite enjoyed it and suspect you will too. Should you use this prompt, leave a link to your work in the comments below.

Thank you so much for visiting my blog. I hope you found encouragement in it. Come back often, but you might also want to enter your email address in the space provided above and subscribe to Chronicles. If you have thoughts, suggestions, or criticism to share with me, please leave a comment.

Always,
Jo Ann

Reach Out, Grasp Success

Hold out your hand,
Take mine in yours,
Let’s learn to fly above
The cares of this world.

Ours is the freedom
To reach into the sky,
Find what we’re looking for
And continue with life.

We have the blessing
Of God’s love upon us,
We can reach higher
Than we’ve ever guessed.

Ours is the talent
So generously given,
We can accomplish
Whatever we dream.

Hold out your hand,
Take mine in yours,
Let’s learn to fly above
The cares of this world.

Jo Ann J. A. Jordan
Tuesday, April 30, 2013

I am grateful:

1.   I went to bed early last night and slept well.
2.   I wore a new shirt today.
3.   I was able to help Mom with lunch because she did not feel like doing for herself.
4.   I wrote my journal entry before going to class tonight.
5.   The potatoes and salad I prepared for supper were very good.

I had a fairly good Tuesday, although I am stressed because Mom is in so much pain. She can hardly walk and I hate seeing her this way. I hope your day was pleasant. Take a few moments to exercise your creativity. It will no doubt enrich your life and give you something to share with the world. Your contribution is very important.

As a prompt, write about the path to success. You may write a poem, story, or journal entry and leave a link to your work in the comments below.

Thank you for reading my blog. I hope you will return often, but you may wish to subscribe to Chronicles by email for future updates. Should you have thoughts, suggestions, or criticism to share, please leave a comment.

Always,
Jo Ann

Whoops. We may have forgotten to make it to the tree drop-off this past winter. We were busy, ok?!

April 25 makes absolutely zero sense to be National Zucchini Day.

But that doesn’t make me love zucchini any less. In fact, teasing us so early in the season with the celebration of this glorious garden-staple makes me long for insanely-hot summer days where we eat zucchini bread for breakfast and snack, and grilled zucchini with our dinner. Can someone say “Kabobs?!”

When I saw that this national celebration was taking place the other day, it reminded me of this recipe I came across in my Food52 cookbook many moons ago – one that I had wanted to make, but hadn’t yet for some ungodly reason.

As a young child when my mom would tote my brother and me around in the back of her Nissan hatchback (adorned with “I ‘soccer ball’ soccer” bumper stickers), she would say she’d “just need to bop into” a store here and there…for hours. We all know in mom-speak “bop” means “shop,” which really means “sit in the car for 20 minutes, without the car turned on, shut up, don’t fight, be good, and I’ll bring you back a treat.” It was the 80s, so you could be way more negligent back then.

My brother and I would sit – he in the front seat of course – and scour over the awesomeness of our recently acquired Garbage Pail Kids. (We’d later learn, after Justin graduated from college, my mom had gone ahead and thrown those valuable collectors’ items in the trash in her conversion of Justin’s bedroom to her office. Ouch. She didn’t even recycle them.)

I didn’t mind so much, though, when she’d need to “bop” into Market Street Broiler to pick up some fresh fish for whatever party she was catering, or fish-themed cooking class she was teaching that night. Because you know what it meant if I was reaaaaaally good in the car?

One of their Zucchini-Lemon Walnut Cookies. You better believe I kept my trap shut in the car in hopes of getting one of these cookies in return.

I think we can all agree that I’m a freak. And that I love chocolate. That being said, you’d think I’d request from the Market Street bakery case one of their Chocolate Decadence towers, or even a Chocolate Chip Cookie. But, no. I WANTED the Zucchini-Lemon. (If they didn’t have it, I provided a litany of premeditated alternatives.)

And if they did have the cookies?! That cookie would be completely scarfed down in the short 5-minute drive from the MSB parking lot to our driveway back home. My favorite part was the collected treasure of icing-covered walnut bits that had fallen to the bottom of the white glassine sack. I’d save those for last, duh. Ahhhh, childhood.

I still scarf down cookies with no abandon, by the way.

I saw this recipe in the FOOD52 cookbook and I’ve always wanted to make my own twist on them to *try* to replicate one of my all-time favorite cookies in the world. IN EL MUNDO!

Seeing as how my family (Gianna and Lillian) hath declared they don’t believe nuts should be in anything other than peanut butter, I skipped the walnuts and added sprinkles in their stead. They didn’t turn out like the Market Street Broiler cookies, but then again, I haven’t had one since George Michael was on the radio, so I can’t exactly replicate these cookies.

(Speaking of George Michael…hello?! George Michael Bluth?! Anyone, anyone?! Are you as EXCITED AS I AM about May 26th?!!)

So easy, these came out effing delicious and when I told the girls what was in them (“Zucchini. And Lemon.”), they didn’t run out of the room screaming. Rather, they processed. Processed. Processed. And said “Huh. I like these two flavors together. So very lemony.”

And the freak-train continues.

zucchini-lemon cookies with lemon icing (adapted from Food52 recipe from which I added more sugar, lemon juice, an icing, and sprinkles to boot!)

2 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
pinch of Kosher salt
3/4 cup unsalted butter, room temperature
1 cup sugar
1 large egg
2 tablespoons freshly grated lemon zest (about one lemon)
1 cup shredded zucchini (about one large zucchini)
juice of 1/2 lemon (use the lemon you zested – don’t discard the other half as you will use for icing)

icing:
juice of 1/2 – 1 large lemon
1 cup powdered sugar

Heat oven to 350 degrees. In a medium bowl, combine flour, baking powder, and salt; set aside. Combine the butter and sugar in the bowl of a standing mixture and beat until light and fluffy.

Add the egg and mix until well incorporated. Add the lemon zest, the zucchini, and the lemon juice.

With the mixer on low, gradually add the flour mixture 1/2 cup at a time to the wet mixture until all of the flour has been added and is completely mixed in. Do not overbeat.

Drop the dough by rounded teaspoons onto cookie sheets lined with parchment paper or Silpats. Bake for 14-16 minutes, or until the edges of the cookies are golden.

While cookies are baking, make your icing by whisking together the lemon juice and powdered sugar. Add more lemon juice to your liking, but start with 1/2 of a large lemon.

Cool cookies on baking sheet for about one minute, then brush with the lemon icing. Sprinkle immediately. Enjoy and consider this like eating healthy because it has fresh zucchini.

Casting Out Crazy

It is time to put
All these unreasonable
Thoughts away and shut
Them in a box where they can
Stay, forever and a day.

I wish it was that
Simple to take back control,
But wrestling with thoughts
Is not an easy game to
Play, especially today.

Casting out crazy
Is much harder than I thought
It would ever be,
Because I am unsure of
Myself, not trusting of me.

There is no one to
Talk to who I believe can
Fully understand,
Because it is all plainly
And surely insanity.

I do not have such
Answers as will put my mind
Finally at ease,
So I am casting about
For another fantasy.

Jo Ann J. A. Jordan
Friday, April 26, 2013

I am grateful:

1.   I was not rushed this morning.
2.   Mom was able to have her appointment with the PA today.
3.   The technician was able to increase the strength of the stimulation Mom receives.
4.   We had a nice lunch at Wendy’s.
5.   I was able to do what was needed for my test so I do not have to return to that office anytime soon.

My Friday has about driven me out of my mind, but parts of it went well. The parts that are messed up, are some upon which I choose not to dwell. I am hoping my mind will somehow let them go. I hope your day was much less stressful and more enjoyable. Right now I encourage you to busy yourself doing creative work. If I can manage it in my present state of mind, I am sure you can do something of greater worth.

As a prompt, write about a time you did not trust in yourself. This might be sometime your self confidence was low, or a time you did not feel quite sure you knew how to act. Just write… If you use this prompt, please leave a link to your work in the comments below.

Thank you for reading my blog. I apologize for the material being a bit bizarre this time, hopefully I will regain some stability soon. I do hope you will visit again, you might also consider subscribing to Chronicles by email. If you have thoughts, suggestions, or criticism to share, please leave a comment.

Always,
Jo Ann

At work (which I can’t go into details on), there is something that I do, that I have done for over three years.  It was originally supposed to be a “temporary” job duty.  Unfortunately, I am still doing this duty, even though we hired someone who, theoretically, should have been doing it.  I now have help from two other assistants, but I am burned out on the task. 
At first, I was just overworked and overwhelmed.  Then, I was told that the way I was doing the task was all wrong.  I wrote up my procedures and tried to teach the new person (who I think should be doing the work), but H (as I am calling this person) is more scatterbrained than a stoned teenage girl at a Hollywood party.  While on suspension, she “trained” the other assistants on how to do the duty, but she taught them to do exactly what I’d always been doing, which she had said was wrong.  The other assistants come to me with questions, but I have to defer to H (as a manager, this shouldn’t be a problem).  Except most of the time, she has them come to me anyways, or gives a new procedure each time we get the same question (which is very confusing). 

On top of this, the company has been changing a lot in the (nearly) 5 years I’ve been there.  Some of it for better, but some of it really frustrates me. 

On the home-front, I finally jumped whole-heartedly back into the 3 Barons Renaissance Fair.  I have paperwork to sign on Sunday, and then I should be in a guild.  I’ve wanted to get back into it for years, but I always felt the kids were too young for me to just ditch them all for a weekend (or two). 

This weekend is the DEA-sponsored prescription drug take-back event.  I will be manning a booth.  If anyone would like more information or to find a location near them, please go to:

http://www.deadiversion.usdoj.gov/drug_disposal/takeback/index.html

I’m having trouble adjusting to being required to be online when I get home at night.  I wanted to go back to school, but I am finding the work easy to the point of tedium, and I hate interacting with my “classmates”.  It’s nothing against them, it’s just, well… I find the majority of them lacking the required intelligence to hold a suitable conversation.  I end up dumbing my written speech patterns in order to get my point across.  And I get it, I’m attending an online school for people who either couldn’t get into a college elsewhere, or had a rough start to life and are trying to rebuild themselves, or simply shouldn’t be wasting the time in college because they don’t seem appropriate for it. 
And I don’t mean that in a negative way.  There is nothing wrong with recognizing your limitations.  I’m hoping that as I deal with them more often, they will pick up a bigger and better vocabulary. 

Spring is in the air, but winter still tries to keep it’s tight grip on us.  We had snow earlier in the week and it was just predicted that we may see more before the end of the weekend.  I hear it is much the same in the “lower 48″ in some areas. 
My yard is mostly melted of snow.  There are still some berms from the winter plowing, and a few spots where the sun doesn’t hit warm or long enough to melt it all away.  I’m hoping that I can clean up the yard next weekend or the weekend after. 

This weekend is going to be jam-packed.  SO works 11-5 both Saturday and Sunday.  I have the RX Take-Back Day on Saturday from 10-2.  I’m supposed to go shoe shopping with TL for her wedding (I’m a bridesmaid) sometime after that.  Sunday I have a guild (renaissance fair) meeting.  On Saturday night, I will be staying with my grandma. 

Speaking of Grandma, she is doing better.  Recovery is slow, but not slow, if that helps any.  She told my mom and my uncle’s girlfriend (JD) that my “darling” aunt (K2) intimidates her.  Not with what she says, but just her bearing/demeanor.  We’re trying to keep the idiot away from my Grandma. 
K2 has never been someone I’ve liked.  She’s a holier-than-thou, arrogant, condescending, spiteful, gossipy, and thinks she’s better than everyone else.  She had the nerve to tell people that she shouldn’t be on a rotation to help Grandma because she’s “not really family” because she married into the family.  I’d love for her to voice the same sentiment during the will-reading whenever that time inevitably comes.
For Mother’s Day, we’re all going out to Grandma’s house for a BBQ.  Considering what K2 has said about me, I’m tempted to corner her and give her a piece of my mind.  However, I know it would do nothing more than cause extra drama. 

For now, I’m behaving as best I can.  A 4 day training conference is coming up and I’m supposed to be at the booth representing the company.  I want to dye my hair before the conference.  I’d love to go black again. 
I am going in next Friday for epidural steroid injections.  It should help me, both with the pain I’m dealing with on a regular basis, and as a preventative for standing for 4 days. 

J leaves for NJ next month.  He’ll be back in August, a week before school starts.  My mom is planning on taking him every weekend until he leaves. 

Anyhow, it’s late and I should attempt to sleep.  That’s my update, and I’m sticking to it.

I was in college when my mom was diagnosed with an aggressive strain of breast cancer and later given a terminal diagnosis (meaning this cancer was going to kill her). I was struggling with what was going on, and most of my peers couldn’t really relate to my problems, so I decided I wanted to join a support group. I was on a college campus, so how hard could it be to find one?

There was no support group on campus. There was no support group in the Santa Cruz area. I found a grief support group at a local hospital, but I was only allowed to begin attending once my mom had died. No support was deemed necessary for dealing with the traumas associated with watching someone die slowly, apparently.

Eventually I gave up. I didn’t have a counselor on campus to talk to. I didn’t receive any support. About five months after my mom died, my voice teacher, who was as close to a mentor as I had in college, was berating me for not having it together as much as a fellow student whose mom had also died. As you might imagine, this didn’t exactly do wonders for my morale. Grieving, I learned then, was not acceptable, even though I was functional and doing all the basic things I needed to be doing (going to class, completing my assignments, feeding myself, etc.).

This is all bullshit. When people have loved ones diagnosed with terminal illnesses, they need support during the time before death. That time is just incredibly wretched. Bad news streamed into my life in a steady torrent, and watching my mom suffer while I was completely helpless to do anything about it squeezed my heart in an unforgiving grip. The uncertainty of when hung over everything else, a promise of future misery.

Grief doesn’t have a timeline. Grief doesn’t disappear overnight, or in a month, or in five months, or in years. And grief affects people differently. When someone is dealing with something like this, processes to get support should be made simple, not complex and unclear and obviously involving much jumping through hoops. Instead people have unrealistic expectations and they simply don’t want to talk about it.

Grief takes the time it takes. Sometimes it crashes into your life and all you can do is try to hold on. Other times it creeps in stealthily, quietly, and you wonder what’s wrong with you and why you don’t feel more than you do. Years may pass and suddenly it jumps out at you when you least expect it. And it gets mixed in with all sorts of emotional experiences: fear, anger, relief, shock, numbness, hysteria, throwing yourself into your work, the ache of emptiness, recklessness, hopelessness, a gnawing sensation of searching for something.

There is no way to sugarcoat the truth. Having a loved one diagnosed with a terminal illness really sucks. Losing someone you love really sucks. Being reminded of your own mortality really sucks. And dealing with our society’s stupidity about these things makes it suck even more. After all, everyone dies at some point–why does it have to be a subject shrouded in silence?

And this doesn’t even get into the way our society treats those who are seriously ill and/or dying. Luckily we have people like Jay Lake documenting both the ways our society gets it wrong, and his experiences dealing with cancer.

We can do better.

I go back to the doctor in 2 weeks.

My sweet husband and devoted mom were there with me.

I also received

lots of well wishes from friends and family via texts, phone calls, and Facebook messages, which I greatly appreciate.

When we got home my besties, Connie, Marilyn, and Lora, came over and brought a whole meal for my family.

It was fabulous.

Here’s a picture of our last adventure together.

There are tall ships, there are small ships, there are pretty ships, and there are ugly ships, but the best ship of all is FRIENDSHIP!

More later…………………….Sally

So we’re driving to gymnastics when Elyse asks me from her car seat if I’m going to get older.  ”Yes”, I say feeling older  every second, “We will all get older; you, me daddy.  It’s how life works.”  She follows up with, “But you’ll never get as old as Abuela” (**Abuela is what Elyse calls my mother, her grandmother who’s Chinese.  Don’t ask.  It makes no sense)  Anyhow, I tell Elyse that one day I will get as old as Abuela but not for a long time.  Elyse starts crying.  “But I don’t want you to die” she says.  “Abuela is not dead”  I point out.  Man,  Abuela must not be looking good.  I’d better take that woman to Nordstrom.   Elyse pipes in, “She’s going to die like the frog in Shrek.”  Spoiler Alert; for those of you that haven’t seen Shrek 2 in the past week the frog king dies.  We told Elyse he was really old.  But again, why she’s equating an old animated Frog with my Chinese mother is beyond me.  I tell her that grandparents, unlike animated frogs, often stay old for a very, very long time.  Usually they live longer then one might expect from looking at them.  I go on to tell her that Abuela and Grandma Nancy aren’t as healthy as her mommy and daddy hope to be.  They don’t exercise and eat enough broccoli. (I feel very smug at my broccoli comment as I picture her shoveling it in later) “But why?” Elyse prods.  “Why doesn’t Abuela exercise?”  Good question.  I tell her, “Because  Abuela never exercised and the older people get they become very set in their ways and so the best chance she’s got of leading a long and healthy life is by developing good habits now.”  Elyse just looks at me.    Is this too much pressure for a three year old?

Dear Aramark Corporation,

I wish I could say something good about Aramark, but in good conscience I can’t. My 61 year-old mother has worked for Aramark at South Dakota State University for the past 8 years. She loves her job and interacting with the students.

She had never complained about poor treatment by her management until this year. She doesn’t complain about how she is barely living paycheck to paycheck, because the dining services on campus is unwilling to give her a raise after 8 years of work. She doesn’t complain about not having a job in the summertime because no place in Brookings, SD is willing to hire someone with limited dexterity due to arthritis in her hands.

Over the past few weeks she has developed an issue with her knee which has limited her mobility. She went to the doctor’s today and was told she needs to take it easy and stay off her feet. She’s due for an MRI May 3rd because Aramark’s insurance policy doesn’t cover her over the summer.
Her supervisor called her this afternoon demanding to know why she couldn’t come into work today and if she would be in to work tonight, mind you she had to be helped out of the SDSU Student Union last night by students and a wheelchair.

I guess what I am getting at is I’m sick of seeing my mother who worked hard to support herself and myself for the past 28 years treated like a piece of dog feces by her employer. She’s been there for me in my toughest battles and lowest points in life and I hate to see her suffer like she has the past year that I’ve been working on the road.

Aramark please train your supervision and management staff to support those who are older and have worked hard for your company with a little more respect and compassion.

A former user of your end product,

Nick Hartley

What makes me different? I like to make every situation a positive one, I don’t dwell on the past, I don’t let others affect my life for the worse, and I am nice to everyone, even if I hate them.

I have been through so much in the past 20 years I have been on this planet.

My whole life I have been made fun of and taken advantage of because I am such a nice, friendly, outgoing person. People mistaken my kindness for weakness.

I am not weak.

I am stronger than I have ever been in my life.

I don’t ususally show much emotion. I hide all my problems, stress, sadness with a smile. I hate when people ask me, “Are you ok?” or, “What’s wrong?”

Like I am really going to tell them..

I am a very fragile person, even though I don’t show it. I don’t cry often on the outside. But on the inside I am always screaming. And I am happy no one sees it, because the inside of me is so broken and damaged.

The inside is so ugly.

The only person that knows me so well that she can see right through my smile is my mom. And it’s one of the many reasons that I love her.

You will never see me cry unless I experience something physically painful, like a broken bone.

Ask anyone.

They only time you will ever see me cry because of something emotionally painful is if someone went to great lengths to hurt my feelings, or someone I know died.

But rarely does that ever happen.

So tell me, what are you hiding from everyone else?

Earth Day Poem

The Earth
Our fantastic
Home where aspirations
Can be made real before our eyes
And all necessities are provided
To make our lives comfortable.
We must care for the Earth
For it holds our
Future.

Jo Ann J. A. Jordan
Monday, April 22, 2013

I am grateful:

1.   I woke up from my awful dreams this morning.
2.   My sleeping dreams do not define my life.
3.   I was persistent about not wanting tests done.
4.   Doctor Manocha found I did not have to have tests unless there is a problem.
5.   I was able to reset Mom’s stimulator, although it has been years since I have done it.

My Monday started out with terrifying dreams, then reality was a bit troublesome, but I managed to get through the day. I hope your day was less stressful. While you have a few moments to nurture your creativity, take time to make something wonderful to share with the world. I have no doubt that your imagination can produce great things.

As a prompt, write about something you have nearly forgotten, but manage to do anyway. You may create a poem, story, or journal entry and share the link to your work in the comments below.

Thank you for visiting my blog. I hope you will come back often, but I encourage you to enter your email address in the space provided above and subscribe to future updates from Chronicles. Should you have thoughts, suggestions, or criticism to share, please leave me a comment.

Always,
Jo Ann

Wipe Their Tears Away

Go, go into the world
Teach it how to smile,
Teach it not to cry.

Teach the people peace,
Go beyond your ease
Give more than they expect.

Give glory unto Christ
For everything is His,
Teach His love to all.

Teach them to believe
In the goodness of our God,
Give them reason to go on.

Give your love away
For everyone to share,
Teach freedom to all men.

Teach the people well,
Go wipe their tears away,
Give hope to every life.

Go, go into the world
Teach it how to smile,
Teach it not to cry.

Jo Ann J. A. Jordan
Friday, April 19, 2013

I am grateful:

1.   I was not in great pain when I woke up.
2.   I had Oreos for breakfast.
3.   Inspiration struck while driving the truck.
4.   Doctor Bueno believes my back is about to line up right.
5.   Mom enjoyed the Strawberry Lemonade Chiller I brought her.

I had a very pleasant Friday, although the weather was a bit dreary. I really don’t mind the rain. I hope your day was enjoyable. Now, while you have the chance, engage your imagination and create something wonderful to share with our world. Your creativity will enrich not only your life, but the lives of others who encounter your work.

As a prompt, start with the word “Go” and see where it leads you. It could take you places, send others away, or whatever suits your fancy. Just write a poem, story, or journal entry and leave a link to your work in the comments below.

Thank you for visiting my blog. I sincerely hope you will come back often, but I also encourage you to enter your email address in the space above and subscribe to Chronicles for updates. If you have thoughts, suggestions, or criticism to share, please leave me a comment.

Always,
Jo Ann

Walking towards the cinema, my excitement started building again. So what about the photo? It was fine with me… that could always be my new dream. A girl has to always dream. *big smile*

The steel frames were up and we were walking the route that Gerard Butler and Aaron Eckhart would be walking later the night to meet the fans who weren’t lucky enough to get tickets for the premier. It was 18:35 and no fans had appeared yet. However, I was sure the place would be packed. The photos on Channel24  is proof enough that it was.

When we got to the front of the queue, I gave my name to the lady and my Mom and I received our tickets and black armbands. Later that night we found out that the gold armband people would be going to the VIP lounge to carry on the party, which I was totally fine with. A girl needs her beauty sleep and all that after a long day.

We then joined the queue again and we had an official photo taken of us before the movie. See below. Crystal Brook Distribution  arranged it all. Here is the photo of my Mom and I:

My Mom and I and the official photo. She was awesome to be with me every step of the way!

The tickets said row B seats 15 and 16. I did not realise it was the second row from the front, in the middle. Okay, so the screen is massive and during the movie we got to see the pores on the men’s faces, but what counted was AFTER the movie. The stage was right in front of us and it meant that we would have a perfect view of Gerard Butler and Aaron Eckhart when they were answering questions.

The big welcome on the screen when we arrived at the cinema.

Another sign on the big screen.

We all got popcorn and drink of choice and we ended up sitting next to two very funny ladies. They loved my shirt and were totally convinced that we (my Mom and I) were the greatest fans there. The one lady did say that if I knew who Gerry’s manager was that I was the ultimate fan, because how many people know that? The ladies were very welcoming and we chatted a lot about the actors.

We were all welcomed by Martin Bester, who interviewed Gerard and Aaron earlier on his radio show and after that the movie then started. Wow! What an action packed movie, of course I will not give too much away, but it might just be one of my new favourites. The jets and the effects were awesome. The men were yummy and well, and yes, I might be biased, but I enjoyed it. My mom did as well and we are still talking about it. We will definitely be going to see it again after payday.

After the movie, Martin Bester was trying to get the audience worked up because we were waiting for the actors to get there. The media took up their places and then Martin Bester  saw my shirt and made me stand up in front of the whole cinema (a few pics were taken, but I don’t know by who).  It was a pity that Gerard and Aaron weren’t there for that.

And then the men walked in. The cinema erupted in screams and applause and I was one of the people who clapped my hands and shouted. It was truly an epic moment to have them so close and yet so far.

The boys getting the microphones on.

Aaron scouting the crowd

Gerry listening to the interviewer

Listening to a question

Try to caption this photo.

Gerry explaining something and Aaron looking at him.

Aaron Eckhart

The boys finished with their interview.

Gerry telling us that the fan event was Aaron Eckhart’s last promotion for Olympus has Fallen.

Aaron listening to Gerry make the announcement.

Getting ready to leave the stage.

Aaron leaving the cinema, surrounded by body guards.

It was then that the audience got to ask questions and an acquaintance of mine, Aldridge was lucky enough to get to ask Gerard a question. It was truly awesome seeing how the men interacted with the audience. One lady from the audience was lucky enough to get a hug from Aaron and then Gerard gave her one too. While the one was talking the other was scouting the audience and vice versa. It was really one of the best experiences in my WHOLE life.

Gerry announced that it had been Aaron’s last tour promoting Olympus has Fallen. He also said that he was on his way to Mexico to promote the movie there. After the Q&A Gerry and Aaron left the cinema and everyone started leaving. The night had come to an end and we still had a trip to make back to Pretoria. I can tell you that I was on cloud 9 and I have been back there every time I think about it.

Oh and remember I mentioned my mom’s friends that she made at the coffee shop? Well on our way out, the lady saw my Mom and hugged her. She said that my Mom was one in a million. ‘To be with your daughter every step of the way and support her way you do is priceless,’ she said. My Mom felt so special, and yes, I know, my Mom is one in a million, and this is where I just want to say, thanks for going with me and being by my side Mom. I’ll never forget this. *Big smile*

And that was the end to a most awesome day. My Mom and I drove home that night and walked in the front door at 23:15. We were both tired. We were on a high. Laying in the dark I went over the day in my mind. The experience was so surreal. However, with all the excitement I could not fall asleep. I could/can honestly say that my dream came true, and how many people get to say that?

When I did eventually drift off to sleep at about 02:00…  I know it was with a smile on my face.

This poem is a tribute to my very good friend Dana…

Respite

The hours of darkness
Unfurl cleanly, quietly,
Almost endlessly;
Taking me from day to day
Without any stop for sleep.

I share my thoughts with
A friend who is far away,
In another life;
Our ages, situations,
Are distant in space and time.

We discuss writing,
Wrestling, children, even love
And I find myself
Wondering, ‘Who is teacher,
Experience or sweet youth?’

My gift is knowledge
Gained over a difficult
Lifetime full of tears;
Hers is the perspective of
Endless opportunity.

I learn not to count
Myself out, despite aging;
Because her hope is
Constant and contagious for
Even one such as I am.

Jo Ann J. A. Jordan
Wednesday, April 17, 2013

I am grateful:

1.   Mom made it through the day though she hardly slept at all.
2.   I made it through the day though I slept none at all.
3.   The truck did not require more extensive repairs.
4.   Mom did not go out and look at the new Explorer.
5.   My Droid kept me in touch this morning.

I had an awesome Wednesday, though it was too expensive to be born. I tend to have great days when I stay up all night. Especially when some of my best friends keep me company, as Dana did during the night. I hope your day was also great. Now I suggest you engage your imagination and create something to share with the world. Surely you, with your superior talent, can create wonders.

As a prompt, write about something unusual rodents have done in your life, or borrow my life… Write a story, poem, or journal entry and leave a link to your work in the comments below.

Thank you for visiting my blog. Beware the squirrels. They may look like nice little critters, but they have nasty teeth. Come back to visit, and if you like subscribe to Chronicles. If you have thoughts, suggestions, or criticism to share, please leave a comment.

Always,
Jo Ann

The radio show started… and there were only five people in front of the studio. Two teenagers with their mom (who did not look like their mom I might add, she was way too young), my Mom and I.

Were we the only people waiting to see them? Surely not?

The two teenagers had made posters that said we love Gerard and Aaron. We started chatting with them. Soon other people started showing up and before long, everyone was waiting to catch a glimpse of Gerard and Aaron. I had foreigners asking me what the commotion was all about… maybe because of my “HAVE YOU BEEN BUTLERIZED?” t-shirt? Maybe I looked official? Or maybe I was just so excited?

I can’t tell you what time they got there. I remember looking at my watch and it was 17:15 and the DJ said that they were around the corner.

I heard the commotion “around the corner” and someone said they had arrived. We did not dare leave our spots against the window. Btw, my Mom was next to me all the time. Not bad for a 66-year-old lady. She kept up with us youngsters.

And then we saw them….

I started cheering with the people around me. Flashes were going off. However, with the double pane of sound proof glass, it was difficult to take photos. I realised that and put the flash off.

The DJ greeted both actors and told them where to sit and after the song the interview started. I think both the actors were so surprised to see us. Gerry had his phone out and was taking a video of all the fans through the glass. It seemed like he was having a ball of a time.

How surreal to have Gerard Butler and Aaron Eckhart just metres away from you. Okay, they were behind the glass panels, but still. At least we got to hear the interview, although in all the excitement, I’m not really sure what was asked. *BLUSH* I am sure that I could find the interview online.

Anyways, I took so many photos. Some were blurry but others were not, some were dark and others were not. But you know what? There is nothing that Photoshop cannot fix these days! Here are the photos from the radio interview.

Gerard Butler entering the studio and looking at his mobile phone.

The studio

Gerard Butler

Aaron Eckhart

Aaron Eckhart

Another view of the studio

Gerard Butler behind the microphone

Gerard signing an autograph.

Another view of the studio

Gerard listening to something someone said in the studio

The studio

Aaron Eckhart behind the microphone.

Gerard Butler

Gerard and Aaron hugging one another

Laughing at the spoof the radio DJ played.

Aaron Eckhart

Aaron’s dimple in his chin is gorgeous and I must admit he is a friendly man. Well, he came across as very friendly. At one stage I was staring at him (who wouldn’t ) and he moved his eyebrows up and down… you know like a flirty guy does to a girl. I turned around because I thought it couldn’t be me that he was doing it to. So I waved… and HE WAVED BACK! Eeeeek! So it was me. Maybe he just read my shirt and thought it was funny? In a news article that I read, he said he was shy… I am still wondering/debating that.

Gerry is tall and slim and somehow I thought he was bigger. But to be honest he is as big as my brother (Rugby Man). So maybe it is true that the camera adds weight? Anyway  where I was standing, Gerry wouldn’t have seen me. The DJ was up and down in front of me; however, I did get to see him and as I said before… all I wanted was a glimpse.

My Mom left during the interview, she is a little claustrophobic and had to get out because of all the people around her. She went to one of the coffee shops and had coffee. She ended up making friends with other Gerard Butler fans. They were actually very nice people and I am so glad she had company. Although she says she saw so many people and heard so many things, that she enjoyed sitting there.

And then the interview was over… I found my Mom and I was telling her all the news when her new friend said that the men were on their way out of the studio…

Not Near Enough

It’s impossible
To be perfect, and yet my
Possibilities
At being imperfect are
Seemingly so limitless.

I can do my best
And still fall incredibly
Short of what I should
With greatest ease accomplish,
My efforts are all lacking.

I make grave errors
In judgment when I should know
So much the better,
Maybe I am so deeply
Flawed there is no remedy.

Repeatedly I
Fall short of expectations
Never fulfilling
The hopes and dreams of those who
Choose to put their faith in me.

It’s impossible
To be perfect, yet I have
Made an art form of
Missing opportunities
To fulfill my potential.

Jo Ann J. A. Jordan
Tuesday, April 16, 2013

I am grateful:

1.   I have learned to hang up on salespeople who call and wake me.
2.   Mom and I had leftover sandwich for supper.
3.   I was able to go to my class this evening.
4.   I learned a lot.
5.   I was able to talk to Richard, Norma, and Carri after the class.

I finished Tuesday in disappointment with myself, but I sincerely hope your day was rewarding. I recommend you busy yourself doing something creative. Whatever media you choose to work in, use your fertile imagination. You have great talent, which you may share with the world.

As a prompt, write about a situation in which you either exceed or fail in meeting expectations. Your poem, story, or journal entry can be shared by leaving a link to your work in the comments below.

Thank you for visiting my blog. This was not the most fortuitous day, but I hope you will return. You might also want to enter your email address in the space above and subscribe to Chronicles. If you have anything to share, please leave a comment.

Always,
Jo Ann