MY WORK LATELY

SUSTAIN-ABILITY

I think my efforts to be a more responsible user of the earth's resources and making our family's carbon footprint smaller has rubbed off onto my children. Yesterday as I turned on the ever-so-stylish eyeball lights in our living room Logue (age 13) told me "Mom, you should turn on the light in the middle of the room it uses less energy." Right, I knew that. Bean (age 8) decided her next project at school would be to go through all their recycling, make "stuff" out of her findings, sell the "stuff" and donate the money to our local children's hospital. Sigh.

I've been kind of slacking with no particular good excuse except that the economy is threatening to take my current humble, living situation away and that makes me a little depressed. But, I believe things always happen for a reason. Yesterday I received an email from Social Media Today. Of course I always skim carefully read their emails word for word because it's only one the 512 emails I get per day, like the one from Logue's PE teacher saying he wasn't bringing his PE clothes to school to which I wanted to say Dude, you're lucky he's not hiding in the locker room, the kid likes PE about as much as showering which we have to pay him $100 to do each time and I'm looking forward to your efforts to get him in shorts 'cause it ain't gonna happen. But seriously, this email was different. It made me pause and think more about my part in sustainability. How do I fit into this enormous picture? How can I even make a dent? Or NOT make a dent as it should be. Social Media Today has created The Energy Collective, an electronic conversation about energy, policy and climate who in turn created the Sustainable Cities Collective where urban policy makers, entrepreneurs and technologists could build solutions and share ideas. The video is not an award winning, jaw dropping piece. But it does make the responsibility to take part in sustainability efforts personal.

BITTERSWEET

Photo courtesy of Gear Live

I seriously want this Vivienne Tam Mini HP Laptop in all its glorious,-Asian-inspired-floral-luscious-red splendor! But, I'm not willing to give up my MAC. There have been too many PC deaths in this family for me to recover emotionally and stop wanting to write YOU WILL DIE SOON on every PC screen I see. So, I'll just drool.

GREENER PASTIMES

Ever since I saw the image of a Polar Bear sitting on a melting piece of ice, I vowed through the tears in my eyes to do my part to reduce my carbon footprint.

First, we adopted Lucy, June, Ruby and Honcho two years ago and in return for all our food scraps and a little TLC they give us...EGGS! We live in a neighborhood where mini mansions are sprouting every 2 hours (except now they're not selling - and these ginormous, energy sapping homes with their flamboyant 5000 sq ft are now taxing the wallets of their builders. I am not gloating, that would be unkind). So, not all of our neighbors understand when our chickens make that noise that sounds like a child being murdered, it's all for the greater good of the ozone layer.

Second, we have changed all the light bulbs in the house to energy efficient ones. So, basically when we turn on our lights, we can't see for about an hour - a sacrifice we're willing to make even though I keep thinking I need to get glasses.

Third, we bought a Prius which I love. The glory of filling up the tank for under $20 and being able to drive on that tank for 370 miles makes me want to stop every HumVee I see and ask "Really, WHY?"

In my quest for finding greener pastures (ha, that just came to me) I found this RITI Printer courtesy of Gear Live.



Now in addition to throwing our coffee grounds out into the yard, I can get my coffee aroma just by printing my daily celebrity gossip affirmations. I wonder if you can get the caffeine high via osmosis?

Oh, and my new pet project (another donation of my so-called free time) is an organization that will bring communities together to help create conversations about sustainability in schools, corporations, homes and jobs. Much like Green Worker Cooperatives as shown in this enlightening video:

WHEN I GROW UP

I want to be just like my nephew Scotty:

Lake Oswego's Leedy and Reader lead Lakers past Oregon City

I'm no basketball expert but did you see the rock he threw from downtown? The kid can make it all day. He can drive, draw and dish - put the ball on the floor. The boy's got mad skillz. Werd. Respect. Peace Out.

GOOD PR VS. BAD PR

I don't write often about my professional life and actually I'm still not. But, the profession I'm in can be such a cluster f*ck at times it's highly entertaining. Public Relations is evolving faster than you can "Twitter" the words. It's well - a good thing and a not so good thing. Sometimes I can get a little bitchy when I see a good organization leaving a bad impression. In fact, yesterday I couldn't resist. My fingers just typed a message to the webmaster of a site (who's cause I fully embrace).

Dear Sir/Madam,
I can't read your website.
Very cordially,
Me

I thought it was rather un-bitchy of me for once.
I really think I offered well intentioned feedback yet kept it concise.
They're response: "Thanks, It's a work in progress" reminded me why I have a job.

WHERE'S THE BEEF?

Lola Jonesing for Ice Cream
Originally uploaded by agentzoey

We're being held hostage in our home. If you hear from us in the usual time period call for reinforcements! The four-legged members of our family have taken over. First I started noticing our language and conversations change. Instead of the usual, "Dinner is good mom" or, "Could you please pass the salad?" I would hear, "Could you watch my food for me so the dogs don't eat it?" or as Bean said last night, "I can't go to the bathroom because Lola will eat my food!" It has progressively gotten worse. We are now becoming obsessive/compulsive about making sure NO FOOD is accessible to these thieves. I shoot up in bed to ask J, "Did you put all the food away?" The kids ask me before we leave the house, "Did we leave the cereal box out?" I've succumb to hiding food in the oven only to turn it on days later and have to explain to the neighbors that no, our house is not on fire. Last night, the neurotic, evil, spaz of a dog Chloe ate 8 donuts out of a box on the counter. That was a fragrant evening. I haven't even mentioned the stealing of snacks out of my purse, eating leftover food off the plates in the sink, holes in the socks, the dish towels that end up in the yard, the de-eyeballing of stuffed animals and the chewing of 500 thread ct. duvet covers. I'm too exhausted to go on. Caesar Milan. We need you! Pleeeeeeze?

RESOLVE

re⋅solve
   /rɪˈzɒlv/
verb, -solved, -solv⋅ing, noun
–verb (used with object)
1. To come to a definite or earnest decision about; determine (to do something): I have resolved that I shall...

So it begins. The juncture each year in which we ponder ways to make ourselves or our existence better. I started this post with the full intention of revealing the softer side of me. How I was going to find more meaning in moments, unearth the fundamental good in human kind and deepen relationships through existential conversations. Then *ding* reality hit as a pain in my neck (literally) and I'm thinking "who is this sentimental pansy and what happened to the REAL me?"

I have long debunked resolutions as silly little lies we tell ourselves. I saw the intentions at face value as honorable, but when scratched below the surface, wishes and wants seemed to be hollow with no self actuating plan. As a life coach and a fitness trainer I heard more resolutions dealing with body weight, beauty and money. I started to get cynical.

Why resolutions? I mean, do we just want to set ourselves up for failure? Isn't it a self-fulfilling prophecy to say we're going to do something (or not do something) that goes against the very fiber of our being like "I will stop eating chocolate," when the cabinet is stocked with Hersheys and once the thought of obstaining enters our brain we can think of nothing other than chocolate? The definition of insanity?

Oh, but I too bought in to this idea of New Years Resolutions (who thought of them anyway? I must Google it). I even tried using reverse psychology on myself. 1. Eat as much as you want of whatever you want. 2. Do NOT exercise whatever you do. 3. Smile less. But, dude? Where's my car? Why do I have to trick myself into accomplishing these goals? And unless I missed a form of new age mind control, I can't convince myself that a rice cake tastes like Haagen Dazs coffee ice cream.

Where is the depth of reality? I understand to the fullest extent that if we ourselves are not happy, we can't give well to others. But at the end of the day what really makes us feel fulfilled? Is it our beauty? Our possessions? Family?

Cue sappy segment: How about finding a reason for being - a purpose beyond our appearance, possessions and status? There ARE things I want to try to do more of, less of, better or worse this year. Too many. Be a better mom, cherish all the little moments, save money, finish school, do more charitable work, get healthier, write gooder, eat less Haagen Dazs coffee ice cream. (Typical type-A bitch, can't you just be happy with who you are and what you have?)


I'm trying to find the answers here, really. But, no sooner than I type this sentence my daughter screams frenetically that her brother hurt her, it's an hour past her bedtime, the dog is chewing the eyes out of Luke the stuffed Lab, the dishes are piled in the sink, on the counter, the table and absolutely nothing in my house is in any semblance of order. And me? I burst into laughter. Laughter about the crap, this shit in our lives that can weaken us if we let it, mortify us if we choose and cause us to conjure up resolutions that just don't make sense for our lives. And in this moment as pure chaos in ensuing, I'm laughing. And it becomes clear. No more resolutions, just laughter.

George and TI

I let someone down. Actually two people, friends, but one of them is dead now. I hate being so blunt but that's the reality and I don't want to sugar coat it. When I found out about the death and the cancer, the guilt came back in a huge, tidal rush. Guilt so strong that it was all I could feel for a long time. As usual I became angry with myself for all of the things I didn't do, the phone calls I didn't make, the forgiveness I didn't give. I vilified myself, continually asking in my head, "Why couldn't you have been a better person?" Why couldn't I have been a better person?

I believe we all go through a period in our emotional maturation I will call "George" because I'm too lazy to think of a psychologically more appealing, yet intellectually amusing name. George is a process of relating all of our mistakes in a way that rationalizes them so that we feel less guilt, feel justified for our actions and allows us to "save face." It's kind of an ego centric phase that some of us never evolve away from. To grow out of George requires honesty, not just with others but most importantly with ourselves. It's a deeper kind of honesty that makes us let go of looking stupid or wrong and admit our real feelings in real time. Most of us can realize our real feelings about for instance what a friend did that pissed us off, but it takes a little time and emotional intelligence. At first we think we must let it go because we're supposed to and everyone will be happy if we do. But we can't stop thinking about "The Issue" (TI) and we keep thinking about it, until we either rationalize again why we should let go of TI or realize we don't like TI and start to resent the friend and ourselves for feeling that way. The process could then go one of two ways: A. We are honest with ourselves and in turn use a tactful, loving way to communicate our feelings about TI to the friend. There might be an argument - or not, awkwardness - or not. But then it resolves and...leaves our consciousness. Poof. Or B. We continue to justify and/or deny our feelings without being honest. We continue this "face-saving", right-fighting mentality and most likely feel resentment and guilt - forever. Or at least a really long time.

I think at age 37 I'm learning how to move past George. I'm realizing it's not always all about me. The past is in the past. You never know what life will bring and all the other cliches that actually have a good point. A good friend of mine described friendships in a very eloquent way. She said, "There are Journey Friends and Life-Long Friends. Life-Long Friends can come and go, in and out of your life but they will always be there for you and you for them. Journey friends are only meant to be there for a certain part of your life - you experience a journey with them and that's it, you both move on."
I let my friends down. My friends that should have been Life-Long Friends, but I wasn't out of George and didn't communicate TI so they became Journey Friends. They should have been Life Friends. But Life got cut short.

Correspondence

*warning: several references to the rear-end and its parts. Not for the weak of heart.

Dear Dr. Pain In The Ass,
I want to thank you for my recent sigmoid-whatchmacallit. I've had a few but WOW, this one was really one to remember. Your assistant told me he had pain medication to give me if I needed it. He said I would be asleep anyway but promised the drugs were ready and waiting in case I said "Ouch." Then you, Dr. PITA, came in and we had a nice chat while you injected the sedative into my IV. It went like this: First injection, "Feel Anything?" "Nope." Second injection, "Feel anything now?" "Nope." Third and final injection, "Feel anything?" "Nope, should I?" "OK, let's start!" That's when I had a thought bubble. Why am I awake? Oh well, the Doc must know what he's doing. Suddenly, I felt a unique sensation I never imagined I would feel:

SOMEONE PERFORMING LIPOSUCTION UP MY RECTUM!

I wouldn't be so freaking mad if my ass actually ended up smaller.
Seriously? Were you looking at my colon or shredding it because that was the most excruciating pain like no other I have ever felt.
And did I get the flippin' pain meds? That would have just been too logical.
I fell asleep after it was all over - probably from the shock of having had rectal lipo.
Oh, and I think I left something behind (no pun intended) in your office. Yeah, a piece of my dignity (and maybe a piece of my ass - or so it feels). Lost. Gone forever.

Most Sincerely,
Someone you owe an major apology and a seriously large tube of Preparation H

Since I still have a sense of humor:

Facebook - Not Just College Gossip Anymore

As I talk to friends and colleagues about Facebook (don't forget I am of the age group, according to the original Facebook crowd, "Old People Invading Facebook") I notice generally two schools of thought. Those who use Facebook to get in touch with friends, post photos, poke a person or a hundred and those who won't touch Facebook because of its annoying reminders, lack of anonymity, time consumption and well, they're just too cool for school.

I agree, there are times you want to b*tch slap (not my term, you CAN really do this virtually, of course on Facebook - FB) or "throw a sheep" at those people who send numerous daily wall posts and dare I say useless status updates (I'm just as guilty). But step back a moment and look at the revolution that is Facebook/social media and those using it as a change agent for Cause Related Marketing (CRM). Many of us woke up election morning to hundred's of thousands of status updates stating that they voted. The ultimate version of peer pressure via social networking. Did it work? I submit that it did! Voter turnout supports this. And it doesn't stop there...Millions of dollars have been raised for thousands of charitable organizations, social and political causes. Many of them $1 at a time.



Baby Boomers have lost ground as the largest generation in the United States. The new internet, tech savvy, gadget hungry generation of today represents more than 70 million consumers. This generation has been touted the Millennials and 60 minutes reported now as "The Age of the Millenials. Thus social media is quickly becomimg an important part of communications today. The communications professional in me realizes this is innovation at its best. The non-professional in me thinks, "Holy Sh*t, this is so cool! Who wouldn't want ride the proverbial wave?" Organizations, whether corporate or non-profit are gearing up for an exponential change in marketing to this generation. The Millenial consumer is looking for a platform to have a voice and FB gives them this platform. On FB, tens of thousands are voting where charitable dollars should go, discussing political issues, candidates and starting grassroots organizations and causes. I for one, though I swore obscenities at my Blackberry when 20 FB notifications woke me up from my much needed nap, will continue to dig deeper into what FB can offer beyond a god-damned hatching egg!

There is more to Facebook than it's cover represents, in other words - Don't judge a Facebook by its cover.

Inspiration

Recently, I thought I was going to die.

OK STOP LOOKING AT THE DUDE IN THE VIDEO FOR A QUICK SEC - I KNOW IT'S DISTRACTING

I found myself in such horrific pain for three weeks with CT scan after MRI after ultrasound - potential tumor then not, one Doctor telling me one thing and another Doctor something completely different. Not to mention, no one particular Doctor wanted to claim my illness as falling "in their realm of specialty." It's a freakin' human body in pain people. I felt like Sarah Palin's accent...nobody wanted to claim me. And whatever happened to Doctors being diagnosticians? I was never diagnosed with anything, yet I came out of the thick smog that was part narcotic pain medication mixed with a touch of the rank stank of my rarely bathed self (sorry honey) and the delusion that I was no longer human, I had been abducted by aliens who subsequently implanted their embryo into my body and it was fighting it's way out through my belly button. The day I felt some semblance of normalcy, I was ready to go do something as human as possible (besides eating) like invest in the stock market. What? Did I miss something bad? Or I even thought about joining a soccer team or running a marathon. Yeah, I guess the narcotics hadn't quite worn off yet.
I thought I was going to die and I didn't and I'm going to live the hell out of my life. Well, not quite as bad ass as this guy:



Let's all bow in humility.

Life With Logue - Parenting a Gifted Child

When Logue was born, exactly 13 years, 7 months 19 days ago, I knew right away he was an old soul. He didn't like a lot of noise, activity or fuss. He would sit in his bouncy chair and laugh and giggle at a Native American mask a friend's father made for us. He hated sleeping alone as if he knew about solitude already. We started to call him our "Little Bhudda" he seemed so "Zen" (except when we had to put him on the washing machine to calm him down in the middle of the night). At 18 months his daddy asked him how his nasty cut on his eyebrow that he had gotten on the playground was and Logue answered, "It just IS Daddy."

When I took him to mommy and me class he was content to play on his own. If another child neared his area, he just moved on to something else. When circle time came, he was not about to participate. I know now what he was thinking: "Why join in with the others when I can have the Duplos all to myself and reinvent the pyramid?" "Besides, who wants to sing the ABC song when you can design a Lego airplane from scratch and really Mama, the wheels on the bus? We all know they go 'round and 'round." Logue resisted play time up in the gym as well. Other kids were not interesting to him, especially if they were ramming each other with various wheeled, kid powered vehicles. To Logue vehicles (Hot Wheels) were to be lined up in neat little rows, color coordinated and by make and model.

Preschool came and man did Logue put up a fight. Being young, first time parents, we didn't want to cause him more agony than he already appeared to be in every time preschool days came around. You'd think that the resounding "Logue!" shouted from every student in the classroom when he walked in would be a welcoming treat for a 3 yr old. Not Logue. We caved often when those crocodile tears came pouring down, "I don't want to go to school, it's too hard!" Poor teacher Nancy, the sweetest lady ever who adored Logue. She had her work cut out for her. But again, I knew what he was thinking: "What's the point in going to this place where you have to stand in line, run around in a gym and...What is all this nonsense about coloring inside the lines, for God sakes people, think outside the box!" A conformer he was not. Polite, gracious and kind he was (thank God for small favors) which I why I think they let him stay.

Around age four I started noticing Logue reading signs along the road in the car. At first I thought he was just talking, singing - the usual toddler stuff. It started to dawn on me that he might be reading. So, I tested him. "Do you know that sign says stop because you recognize the red octagon?" "No, mama, it says S-T-O-P, stop, just like that sign over there says Cleaners." "Oh, my bad." Soon it was cereal boxes, milk cartons and very quickly our house was bursting at the seams with books. That's when the worrying started. How do we parent this child? Are we supposed to send him to some think tank or boarding school for special smart 4 yr olds? Reading about gifted children and other parents with smart children brought me back down to earth...THEIR children were reading when they were 2 yrs old. Whew!

...to be continued.

I Promised I wouldn't Get Involved in the Political Realm...I Lied

No matter what party a candidate is from, left or right, Democrat or Republican, I expect a prospective leader of our free country to conduct him/herself with dignity, honor and dare I ask for a slight bit of humility? I hoped that we had learned from historical events that declarations of hate, slander and racism do not bring us the truth, rather those things instill fear into already afraid Americans. I'm not expecting the Presidential Candidates to rival the Dhali Lama, far from it. Bring it down about a hundred notches and there you have a reasonable expectation for the behavior we should expect from our Political Candidates. Enough with spinning facts into fear. Really...Acorn is destroying the "Fabric of Democracy?" Come on now...get a real campaign.

Destinisia

Have you ever gone somewhere and forgotten why you went? Yeah, that happened to me today...if you saw a woman turning in circles at the grocery store looking perplexed and lost...that was me! Awkward. Yeah, I'm sure people were thinking "Oh, look at that poor girl, she's a little slow." It's called Destinisia. (Thanks Urban Dictionary)

Anyway what was I talking about? Oh yeah, since Anna and I live across the country from each other, we need to talk to each other face to face rather than ear to ear. Mostly because I'm a retard who can't hear people on cell phones and just end up saying "Huh?!" the whole time and nothing gets communicated whatsoever. We could text, but we always have so much to talk about - we'd be thumb lashing each other ourselves into carpal thumbal. So, we use iChat. I love technology (except when it doesn't work) and iChat or Skype - is priceless. One of the best conversations Anna and I have ever had via iChat is shown below. We covered so many topics, talked about all the important things going on in our lives - school, work, kids, boys and...well...you'll see. I have to warn you though, Anna and I have kind of our own language. We are "Agent Zoeys" after all.




Poor Bean was trying to get in on the action.