In the Aftermath of Tragedy

This blog has been sitting in my draft folder for over a week.  I totally forgot about it in the midst of frenzied Christmas shopping and holiday hecticness.  Here's some food for thought...

There has been a lot of commentary on the massacre at Sandy Hook. I cannot even begin to imagine the anguish and horror that those families must be experiencing. I cried, along with a nation, while the events were unfolding. In the aftermath of such a tragedy, how can our nation prevent this sort of violence from ever happening again? In my opinion, we should revisit stricter gun control measures. Coming from the NYC area where owning guns is not the norm, it is hard for me to see why there is such a hullabaloo over the right to own guns in other parts of the country. It is a constitutional right however. I also think that eliminating guns entirely is also somewhat impractical and idealistic; there are firearms bought illegally just as readily as illicit drugs are. The shooter also stole his mother’s licensed guns so this was technically a robbery in addition to major homicide. Most people contemplating murder will probably not do so through a legal gun purchase. However in addition to our 100% focus being on getting these “weapons of war” off our streets, I think many analysts are grappling with the very touchy subject area of mental health.

Obviously, people that commit these heinous crimes are a little touched. Mass murderers are usually withdrawn and socially awkward. We cannot say “hey every shy kid in the classroom has the potential for murder” after the fact. While all details on the shooter’s state of mind and mental capacities are still unclear, it is a fact that he was diagnosed with Asperger’s Syndrome, (and allegedly another personality disorder that has not been made public yet). Of course, this doesn’t mean that every person afflicted with Asperger’s Syndrome is a violent criminal. Many individuals with Asperger’s are high functioning members of society and many are also quite intelligent.

If anything what can come from such a tragic event is better healthcare and research into mental health and personality disorders. The common denominator in all mass murders, from Columbine to notorious serial killers is a very serious mental slip from reality. If we could understand and treat what triggers mental health lapses and episodes perhaps we could successfully prevent reoccurrences like this in the future.

Stricter gun regulations may help, however the fact is this mother owned legally all of her guns, (or so says the news). What type of regulation would have prevented this? Should parents who live with children with mental health issues be denied the right to own guns now? That would be discriminating to say the least. Yes, of course, this mother owned quite a few guns, more so than should be warranted. I have not heard word yet on how the guns were obtained, whether by breaking into mom’s closet or having unrestricted access to them, which would be a safety and responsibility issue to begin with. I think the NRA and law making bodies that be need to be the experts on this. Better regulation, definitely. The “how” is another story.

Ultimately, what needs more focus in this horrible story is mental health. Not just mental health awareness, but mental health research. There are far too many children, teens and adults not receiving the proper treatment they should. Mainstreaming children that clearly need specialized, individual care plans does not work nor benefit anyone. Parents need to be less in denial about their child’s issues and needs because it only hurts the child. Early diagnosis and early prevention is key. The fragile and delicate cloth that makes society civilized and sane is so easily breached by the actions of just one individual. What is clear to me is that far greater emphasis needs to be placed on mental health and not just singularly on gun control. 

Volunteers and donors beware!

 I am sure everyone is touched by the outpouring of donations and manual labor that our fellow Staten Islanders have contributed in the aftermath of Hurricane Sandy.  I have a word of caution however.  Yesterday I spent an hour scrambling for pet supplies to bring to Wagner High School because I received an alert from a pet rescue organization on facebook asking for “SOS” help for the animals temporarily displaced there.  Now, me being the animal fanatic that I am went tearing through my house for dog blankets, collars, leashes, etc.  I was so happy to be contributing to a cause that I believe so strongly in, (the welfare of animals).  When Frank and I got to the high school around 8:30pm, the lead staff there basically said thanks but no thanks, the animals did not need anything and were fine.  Took the wind right out of my sails!  Due to blog feedback, I wish to clarify, that I think there may have been a miscommunication.  I was informed through a social network that Susan Wagner needed "X" supplies as soon as possible for pets.  I went shortly after reading that announcement.  When I arrived at the high school, the volunteers, police officers and someone managing the animals told me that nothing was needed.  There was no mention of this organization scamming anyone on my part, (and I apologize if you feel that I did, clearly not my intention).  I felt misinformed, and no one at Susan Wagner could clarify for me either.  My whole basis for this blog entry is the fact that so many people are trying to help but efforts are becoming very unorganized and convoluted.  I respect any animal rescue organization for trying to help in any way that they can and I would wholeheartedly support them in any way I know how.  Myself and the media are hearing reports such as animals are being euthanized or morgues are being set up in intermediate schools that it is just very difficult to get the real story.  

There are, unfortunately, people who are using the relief and aid being supplied in unethical manners.  I work with a woman who comes from a very generous family.  She is constantly helping others less fortunate.  What she has been doing since the storm is getting text message alerts from a community liaison who forwards the needs of one particular household that was affected by sandy.  So, she has been collecting the items needed and delivering them to the specific house.  This is far more effective than just dropping items off at a huge donation center where the goods do not reach the people fast enough and are not organized. 

In this fashion my coworker has been delivering aid to people that need it the most.  However, there are always some rotten apples in the bunch.  One text gave her the address of someone and the list of items needed.  When she called and spoke to the woman, in addition to clothes the victim said she needed dog/cat and rabbit food.  Hmmm.  So my angelic coworker goes and buys everything, even the rabbit food and brings it to the victim’s house…who had a gardener in her front yard and zero damage to her property and who didn’t live in the flood zones.  My coworker just dropped the bags at her house and left.

Now, my co worker is wiser.  One of the next texts she gets comes from a woman who does live around New Dorp Beach (one of the more devastating areas) and she is requesting baby supplies and baby food.  When my coworker calls and asks what age the infant is and for a bit more background information, the “victim” says, “well the baby will not be here until December!”

CAN YOU IMAGINE! 

My class act coworker simply said I am sorry ma’am but these supplies are needed for children and families that are already here and are in dire need of items NOW.  My co worker said can you believe I was going to contribute to someone's baby shower?!  

I have two things to take away from this.  Do not become disillusioned because there are scammers and cheats out there.  The work you are doing and intentions you have are good.  There are still plenty of authentic people out there that can still use your help.  Two, use caution before committing yourself wholeheartedly to a task.  I was so dismayed after going to the high school and being turned away that it actually made me resent the staff there.  Do not let that happen!  Better your communication skills, ask who, what, when, where, and why.  Make the most of your volunteer efforts by weeding out nonsense like the scenarios above.  Most importantly, believe that the impact you had made a difference in someone’s life.  After all, that is what keeps hope alive.

Please donate to a great cause

I know the entire virtual community has been inundated with requests for donations in the aftermath of hurricane sandy.  I recognize that this is a trying time for everyone, not just those who lost their homes or loved ones.  I have a special request for a longtime good friend of mine, Chris Ostrow.  Not to dwell too much on his background, suffice to say he lost both his parents at a young age and had to grow up faster than most kids should.  He is doing a spectacular job raising his younger brother and was just managing to stay afloat financially.  Unfortunately, Chris and his brother and black lab had to relocate their home after the hurricane hit.  They lost their home, and their cars.

I can't imagine what it must be like to not have my mom and dad, (as crazy as they are).  I can't imagine not being able to go home to a familiar setting and my own, warm bed.  I can't imagine what it must be like to be worried about where to live because most apartments will not take big dogs.  A truly hard and nomadic lifestyle is what Chris and his brother are unfortunately used to.

Please, when you are perusing the hundreds of requests for fundraising money, please consider donating any amount to help Chris out.  You do not need to know him in order to sympathize with his story.  He works full time at a non profit institution and embodies totally the philosophy of giving back to the community.  I am a firm believer in the idea that those less fortunate are always the ones to give you the shirts off their back.  If anyone needs it now, it's the Ostrows.

Please visit the link below to donate securely.  Remember, any amount counts!  Thank you and count your blessing everyday!

http://gogetfunding.com/project/chris-ostrow-hurricane-sandy-relief-fund

If you are having trouble with the link just go to "gogetfunding.com" and keyword in the search bar Chris Ostrow.

FOUND FULL PHOTO ALBUM!

Great news! My brother found a a complete photo album by Hylan Blvd. and Sharrots on the beach.  The photo album could not be salvaged but we have the pictures drying out on the counter.  If anyone recognizes this family please let me know! 

 

This is the only picture that had something written on the back.  It reads "1st birthday, 9/18/94". 

 

 

 

The last picture looks like a Tae Kwon Do class in a gymasium and was found near the album so we are not sure if it belongs to the same person or not.

 

 

Sorry I could not rotate the pictures, my computer skills are a bit lackluster.  Hopefully we can find this owner!

 

The Good Samaritan

Hello everyone.  I hope everyone fared well after Hurricane Sandy hit.  I know some families have lost their homes and even loved ones, and my prayers and thoughts go out to them.  Cell phone service is still very shoddy, so the only way I have been getting in touch with people is by sporadic texting or facebook whenever power pops on. 

My sister, brother and I been driving around looking at all of the destruction after the storm.  We went to the beach by Miller Field on New Dorp Lane in Staten Island, NY, and found that the turf football field was gone, the turf was rolled up like a carpet on the side of the road; it was surreal.  We went walking on the beach and saw tons of home debris, from sneakers to children's highchairs to patio furniture.  The shoreline looked more like a ghostly yard sale.

We found a lot of personal belongings that I would like to get back to their owners, (since these people lost everything I am sure they would appreciate anything returned).  If you or anyone you know recognize any of the pictures I am posting or the valuables that I am speaking about, please message me immediately.  I will continue collecting anything I find on the beaches in the hopes that the owner will soon reclaim them.

I am not doing this for money and do not expect a reward.  I saw homes with boats crashed into them and I stood a roof of a house that was completely submerged under seaweed and debris.  I am completely devastated by the damages in Staten Island and my heart aches for the losses of my friends.  My family and I just want to help give something back to those who lost so much.  Please share this link with anyone you know on Staten Island. 

The first picture is a camera case we found washed up on the beach.  There are more articles in the bag, but I do not want to release the bag to anyone I am not 100% sure is the owner.  If you recognize it, please let me know what else is in the bag or what the bag flap says, (the brand).    This is a very expensive camera and has some film still in it, (I hope it did not get ruined it is completely waterlogged). 

 

 

I am not sure if this is super important to someone, but this is a New York State Department of Social Services Benefit ID Card.  The name on it is Helen Link, female, DOB 12/23/1904.  If anyone knows Helen I am happy to give her the card back; I did not include the bottom half of the card because there's access numbers on the bottom.

 

This is a picture of a red head woman sitting by a Christmas tree.

 

This net picture is of two young girls in what appears to be an airport with sports medals around their neck.  Maybe a traveling soccer team?

 

This is a graduation picture of a blonde girl walking off stage with her diploma in hand.  The picture shows balloons showing 2 0 0, I just cannot see the last number so Ia not sure what graduation year or school the picture is from. 

 

This picture was very damaged.  It looks like 3 people stating on some sort of monument.

 

This last picture looks like a prom or sweet 16 picture of a boy and girl.

    
I will continue to scavenge on the beaches for any other personal items.  Please help me return these to their owners!!

Thank you and stay safe!!
 

Halloween 2012

BOO!

Hello ghouls and gals!  Halloween, as many of you already know, is my favorite holiday.  From the crisp, chilly weather to the crunchy leaves, decorating and pumpkin carving, Halloween is by far the most enjoyable holiday for me.  My costume this year was homemade, (of course) however it was wayyy more money than Mandy and I had anticipated.  We decided  we wanted to be My Little Ponies!  To start, we went to Joann's Fabrics on Forest Avenue and perused tons of aisles filled with every type of fabric you could think of.  We finally settled on a light sparkly pink cotton fabric and a light sparkly blue.  Since neither Mandy or I are seasoned seamstresses, we had no idea how many yards we would need.  We decided that three yards each of the fabric spools would suffice, (and give us extra when we messed up).  We bought elastic bands and red, blue, white and yellow felt.  This store could drive you nuts!  We bought pink and blue wired ribbons and TONS of multicolored neon tulle as well as glue sticks.  Our bill was $86.00!!

It took us a full week to assemble our costumes.  First, we wrapped the fabric around our waist and cut where needed.  Then we wrapped fabric around our arms and legs and cut those lengths too.  We glued elastic around the fabric skirt, arm sleeves and leg sleeves so they would stay up.  Not only was this process tedious, but it was painful as well.  As Mandy's human model, she kept burning me with the hot glue gun in ever so tender places such as the butt, arms and calves.  By the time we were finished, Mandy's hands were blistery and my cheeks were sore! The tulle pony tail was easy, we just cut strips of each neon color and bundled them together with a hair band.  With the felt, we cut out moons and stars, (Mandy was the blue pony) and clouds and rainbows, (I was the pink pony).

Our headbands were the hardest piece to create.  The ears resembled more of a bunny than a pony, but after multiple trial and errors, we got it right.  When all was said and done, our costumes were great successes! We even landed best costume for the night! 

By the end of the night my hooves were killing me!  Here are some pictures from the night...

 

Frank went as Forest Gump.  He's holding a delicious box of chocolates, (which I snatched!).

 

 

Here's blue pony Mandy!

 

 

 

The ponies and Gem!

 

 

 

Zombie Justin and pink and blue ponies.

 

 

Our tails!  So much fun!

 

 

Here are pictures of me and princess Jasmine, as well as rockstar guitar man rex and his groupie!

 

 

I wish I could show all of the pictures but it would take just too long! This little pony drank wayyy to much water last night so this blog is short and sweet. Have a safe and FANTASTIC Halloween!

 

 

The Staten Island Half Marathon

 On Sunday, October 7^th, I walked anxiously towards the corral lanes behind the Richmond County Bank Ballpark.  At 8:30am approximately 5,798 runners would start the final race of the NYRR Five Borough Series-the Staten Island Half Marathon.  The sky was hazy, with an ominous dark cloud looming in the distance.  I had a late start to the day, waking up at 7:15am when I had set my clock to 6:45am.  I could not sleep at all the night before.  My nerves kept me tossing and turning all night.  What if I could not finish?  What if I didn’t meet my expectations?  My biggest fear was posting a time I deemed personally inadequate.  I could not handle a bad time.  Sports have engrained in me a certain threshold for excellence for which anything less is unacceptable.  A stubborn and most destructive quality in me, I’ll admit.  I had planned out my breakfast the night before, banana nutbread oatmeal and an orange clementine, (delish!).  Unfortunately, I could not eat either.  My nerves were so bad that I kept dry heaving after every spoonful, (gross!).  Then I started freaking out because I could not possibly complete a 13.1 mile course on an empty stomach.  I managed what little sustenance I could, and scrambled to my dresser for a cute race outfit.  Of course, I own no cute race outfits, and had to settle for a royal blue t-shirt, shorts, and mismatched neon colored socks.

My training before the race consisted of soccer, (which helped me with the short sprintwork I so dread) interval biking, the elliptical, lifting, and long distance running.  I figured the best way for me to prepare would be with more cross training than straight pounding the pavement for months.  I have never done a race distance over a 5k, so making the jump to a half marathon was a bit ambitious.  Nevertheless, once I had it in my mind that I wanted to register for the race, there was no turning back, ready or not.

I kept eagerly searching through the runners warming up, sizing them up and imagining if I, too, matched their physique and running capabilities.  Staring at a petite, size zero woman running past me I suddenly get that nervous pit in my stomach again.  Ughh don’t suck today Cindy!!

At 8:15am the Staten Island ferry parking lot was riddled with runners stretching, jogging and talking.  I immediately felt lonely in the midst of thousands of people.  The weather was very chilly, and I tried warming up as best I could.  After several attempts of trying to discern where the porter potty lines ended I gave up on having a last minute run to the bathroom.  There were dozens of porter johns all with hundreds of people lining up for them.  Men were just peeing on the trees like it was no big deal because of how long the lines were.  For a second I thought to myself if anyone would judge me if I did the same, (I didn’t if you are wondering).

With my bib number, 4049, secured to the bottom of my shirt with safety pins and my orange D-tag chip fastened to my right sneaker, I headed to my corral gate.  I can’t believe I am doing this!  I am so not ready for this!  I psyched myself out before the race even began.  Not being built like a runner, (the sheer girth of my hips is a telltale sign) I knew going in that I would not be posting up 7 minute mile paces.  I decided what I lacked physically I would make up for in determination.  I aimed for an 8 minute and 30 second mile pace.  Up until this race I did not time my practice runs with a stopwatch, so 8:30 was a sheer guesstimation on my part.  I figured for my first half I did not want to be a slave to the numbers; I would run according to how I felt. 

Your corral is based on your estimated race pace per mile.  I was lumped into 8 minute corral, (which I was a bit nervous about because I had written 8:30 on my registration form).  At 8:30am, we were sardined in our corrals, anxiously waiting through a rendition of the Star Spangled Banner and the back patting accolades of fancy name donors and unctuous politicians.  When the horn finally sounded it took me over 3 minutes to get to the actual start line, (more competitive corrals were ahead of me).  Your D-tag activates as you cross the start line and deactivates when you hit the finish, giving you your exact time, (which is pretty cool, and also made me wonder how they timed races for every individual before this type of technology).  It looks like this…

Annnnddd we’re off!  I began running away from the ferry, almost shoulder to shoulder with other runners.  I kept dodging into open spaces, which reminded me of the game Frogger where you have to safely jump in between cars to make it across a busy street.  Eventually the runners would all pan out, so basically you just had to wait to make a move.  This is what sardine running looks like….

We made our way up Richmond Terrace on a pretty steady incline.  The entire street both ways was sectioned off by barriers and police escorts.  Volunteers and spectators peppered the route, some with signs saying “RUN MOMMY!” and my personal favorites, “Charlie, you run faster than the “F” train!” and “RUN FOR THE CARBS!” We continued down Edgewater Street past some rundown, hostel movie-like factories.  Somewhere around Broad Street, running adjacent to the water, we hit the mile three marker.  I was very surprised to see that I was around an 8 minute mile pace, (at 24 minutes in).  We carried on past Hylan Boulevard, Bay Street and across by Fort Wadsworth.  In my opinion, the race was not very scenic.  I passed a chunky, little red faced construction worker with a yellow hard hat on who was cheering and waving the American flag.  “I want you all out here tomorrow morning for practice!” He made me smile.  The route snaked down Father Capodonno Boulevard towards South Beach Psychiatric Center.  There was an overpass with a DJ playing music.  Because of the overpass structure, the music resonated much louder.  The booming went right through you.  It gave me chills; such an adrenaline pumping moment!

I tried eating my goo, which my elite running friend Moe advised me to take for energy somewhere in the middle mark of the race. I ripped off the top of the tiny package and squirted some of the vanilla flavored electrolyte replenishing liquid in my mouth.  It was probably the most disgusting thing I have ever tasted and I regret not trying it out before actually running the race.  I wish I had done that closer to a water station because now I had the awful aftertaste in my mouth.

I noticed a lost D-tag on the street and pitied the anonymous runner who had inadvertently parted with it.  I was taken aback by how many porter potties were aligned down the race course every so often.  A few runners would actually run right to them to use them and just pop back into the race.  It never dawned on me how necessary these are throughout the race for just such emergency purposes. 

  

Probably the coolest thing about the race for me was having thousands of runners on one side of the street.  The other side of the two yellow lines designated the course back to the finish, and it was empty for a good duration of the race.  Then, all of a sudden I saw police cars, volunteer bicyclists and a firetruck coming down the street opposite us.  This meant only one thing, the runner in first place was coming.  The wave of cheers from the hundreds of runners on my side of the street followed the runner as he went past behind his automobile escorts.  I got chills once again.  Imagine the rush it must have been for this one, lone runner as he made his way to the first place finish?  It was absolutely awe-inspiring.  Imagine those trucks and cars paving the way for you; so awesome! 

Soon, other insanely gifted athletes ran past the opposite side, so I knew the turnaround was coming soon, which meant we were approaching the 7 mile halfway mark.  I was feeling so good!  My legs were not aching and I felt like I had much more in the tank.  Around Buel and Naughton Ave we ran around a divider to finally make our way back.  Then disaster struck.  A small cramp started right in the center of my chest, just below my sports bra.  I think it was a cramp in my diaphragm.  I tried changing my stride up, chugging water at the next possible water station, and deep breathing.  Mile 7.5 through 9 was torture with this cramp.  I kept my right arm folded tight against my chest because it was the only way to alleviate some of the tightness restricting my breathing.  I must have looked pretty crazy running with one arm on my hip like that.  I started panicking because my pace slower considerably, (I just could not breathe properly) and I noticed a lot more runners making their way past me.  Oh my God!!!   

Finally, the pain decreased to the point where I could run without holding myself.  If anyone knows why I got this cramp or how to avoid it in the future, PLEASE let me know! I started picking up the pace again to make up for lost time.  Around mile 10 I was singing. Almost there, ALMOST THERE! I tried to pick out a runner every once and a while to be my rabbit, (I chase them and try to keep pace).  It is so infuriating to see an older adult pass you so easily.  Freak!! Then you get some runners that just do NOT look like runners and they pass you too and you are like, no way can I let THAT person beat me!  Around the time I am evilly looking at a stout, compact woman zip past me my right sneaker begins feeling loose.  I look down and realize my shoelace is untied.  GOD DAMNIT!  I decided not to stop to tie it because I feared that if I stopped, I would not be able to start running again.  I was beginning to feel fatigued and decided I would take my chances on running with it untied and just high step the rest of the way, (pretty ridiculous I know).  How could you tie your shoelace so loose for this race Cynthia?! We were on mile 12 and I was so close!  The spectator crowds started thickening and the cheering became louder.  Runners started picking up their paces, and I kept running with my head down concerned that my laces would loosen to the point where I would lose my D-tag, (because it was tied on that shoe of course).  Not knowing my own personal time would be disastrous! 

 

 

I could now see the Staten Island ferry terminal, and I started to sprint.  I pushed past as many runners as I could.  This next picture captures perfectly how I felt at the end…

 

Many people would slow and cheer and pose as they passed the finish, but not I.  That would mean an extra second and there’s no way in hell I was slowing for that camera moment.  When I passed the finish I surprisingly did not have the euphoric, runner’s high.  To my surprise, everyone coming out of the finishing block was given a medal, which was pretty cool.  I love my medal!  I grabbed some water from a volunteer handing them out and an apple from another station and searched the crowds eagerly for my family.  I had hoped to see them somewhere along the course but hadn’t up until now.  I wandered aimlessly through the crowds searching for them.  Then I saw my sister Mandy with her stroller by the white 9/11 memorial letter monument.  My 2.5 year old niece, Kaylee, came running over to me with a bundle of flowers.  That was my euphoric moment-scooping her up and letting her hold my metal.  My mom and Mandy took tons of pictures and congratulated me, (now they want to start running too!).  Ryan, my 2 month old nephew, snoozed in the stroller oblivious to his surroundings.  Around then was when my body started aching.  My left ankle, (which has damaged cartilage from an old soccer injury) was so bad I started limping as we made our way back to the car.  The rain had begun. 

All in all, this race was a fantastic voyage for me.  My gender place was 498 out of 2,559 women.  My official time was 1:51:43 and I had an average mile pace of 8:32.  Overall, I placed 2,187 out of 5,798 runners.  Although I am very satisfied with my time for my first half, I still have that itching bug in me that I could do better.

The most satisfying feeling for me is looking back on the race and saying I did that.  I can not sufficiently describe the way I felt approaching this half marathon doubting myself.  Running this type of distance is not about how physically strong you are, but how mentally tough you are.  It takes a strong mind to navigate those long miles, and even though you are running them with thousands of other runners, you are running them alone.  It’s like you completely shut the world out for 13.1 miles.  My greatest enemy was myself, and I think that’s true for everyone.  What makes running so fantastic is that you run to give yourself your best.  It’s about how far you can push yourself, how much you can exhaust yourself and still persevere.  It’s about recognizing your limits, and then smashing them to pieces.  I love surprising myself.  In life where you cannot control the bad things that happen to you or the shitty cards you have been dealt, there is a certain calmness to the chaos achievable through something like running. It’s therapeutic. 

Besides the absolute soreness to every fiber of my being the day after, I have no regrets.  I most certainly will register for another half, and I look forward to destroying my old time!

 

I would like to end with an ode to a fantastic Nike commercial that has been airing lately, since everyone’s personal goals are different, I think it’s important we recognize what our goals are and not someone else’s. 

 

 

Tales from a Sparrow

This morning I went for a run in Clove Lakes Park.  On my second lap around the lake I noticed a sparrow just sitting on the asphalt trail.  I ran past it and the small, grey bird didn’t flinch which I thought was odd; (usually birds will flutter away a few feet when you get too close).  So I continued on my run not thinking much of it. 

On my third lap I saw the same bird in obvious distress; it was collapsed on the floor and only flapping one wing violently back and forth.  I saw a parks department official standing nearby and flagged her down.  “Yes we are aware and someone’s coming for it”.

 

Being a lover of all creatures, I continued on my run with a heavy conscience.  I did not have my cell phone or my car so I would have to carry him home.  I did not have anything to carry the poor thing in so I would need to borrow a blanket.  Maybe the parks workers would have something I could carry him in.  Where could I take a sick bird?  My vet only deals with cats and dogs.  Would his care be expensive?  I have work so I would need my mom to take him somewhere.  I kept vacillating back and forth between a million different decisions.

 

Finally, halfway through my lap I decided I would take him if no one else would.  I already had visions of nursing him back to health, (maybe it was just a broken wing) and releasing him back into the wild. 

 

Rounding the baseball field on my fourth lap I did not see the bird anywhere on the ground.  I asked a worker standing nearby where it was and she said on the grass. She mentioned an unfamiliar organization that was coming to get it.  I found the sparrow lying on leaf by a tree with a small, elderly, Hispanic woman hunched over the bird gently stroking its feathers with a stick.  “He dead,” she said in a thick, Spang-lish accent.  I looked at the little thing and became overwhelmingly upset.  I know many people do not understand this feeling or cannot relate, but it is really hard for me to articulate just how much I appreciate and am in awe of animals.  It is true that I am freakishly devoted to animals; indeed I prefer them to humans even.  The sparrow laid there motionless; it was obvious he had passed.  I left him there and continued on my run ruminating.  On my fifth lap around I searched for the bird again, hoping to see it hopping away fine, but it was gone. 

I do some of my best thinking while running.  On my way home I thought about the whole situation.  I spent more time thinking and planning on what to do than action.  Obviously, if in the moment I saw him, and if I took him, I would not have gotten any help in time because he died in probably less than 20 minutes.  I had no wallet or ID and I would have had to run with him all the way home, (which is easily 25 minutes away from where I was).  The situation got me thinking on a much more abstract, philosophical level, almost to the extent where it had nothing to do with the bird.  We spend so much of our lives worrying, planning, backtracking, weighing options, regretting, etc. We waste our lives in dead end jobs or relationships because we always think that it is too hard to go searching for something new.  There is never enough time; there is never enough money, so you put off what you could have done today for tomorrow, which becomes the day after that, and the day after that.  The bird made me realize just how profound the idea that every second you wait is a second wasted.

It also struck me how something that was seemingly healthy not 15 minutes ago was now gone.  It makes one appreciate just how precious life is.  In hindsight, I would not have been able to save this little bird.  But it made me realize just how much time I personally spend on making decisions without living in the moment.  The heroine in me would have scooped the bird up immediately and ran like Hermes all the way back to my house.  However the planner in me made me hesitate and weigh all the options before deciding on a course of action.  Obviously, life calls for decision making and weighing the pros and cons of every situation.  But wouldn’t it be liberating to just once in awhile do away with reason and logic and live passionately and presently in the moment on a whim?  I think a lot of great thinkers, leaders, and revolutionaries shared this impulsive trait.  Conversely, I also suppose that this is a cause for many great failures and defeats throughout history.  Ultimately, I guess life is a gamble, risk takers can win big or lose it all, and the majority of us are just clumped somewhere in the middle. 

Self-doubt, lack of self- confidence, feelings of inadequacy, fear of failure, the lack of resources, and a countless number of other variables all contribute to the demise of our dreams and goals.  Although my stream of consciousness has grossly digressed from that of a tale about a dead bird to the quest for self-actualization, I feel that the moral here is do act sometimes on intuition and gut feelings rather than on rhyme and reason.  Sometimes, it’s just more fulfilling that way.

“A person who never made a mistake never tried anything new”

BRIDESMAIDS ASSEMBLE!

I never knew how difficult choosing bridesmaids and planning how to announce them would be.  Truthfully, there are so many meaningful and special girlfriends that I have had throughout my life that it was so hard to hone down a select few.  I wish I could make everyone a bridesmaid, but sadly it is cost prohibitive and gets wayyy to crazy.   

Last night was my surprise announcement to 9 very special ladies, (one being in Ohio).    We went to South Fin Grill on Father Capodanno Boulevard for dinner and drinks at around 8pm.  I was so excited; prepping for this event literally took me months.  I had been collecting little trinkets I found in stores, and ordering things off amazon and groupon, just for this special occasion. 

At Home Goods my sister and I found memorabilia boxes that are shaped like fake books. I bought one for each bridesmaid and then ordered 8 copies of “The Bridesmaid Guide: Modern Advice on Etiquette, Parties, and Being Fabulous” off amazon to place inside the Home Goods books.  Since some of my ladies are newbies at being a bridesmaid, I thought it would be a cute idea to get them started on the right foot with a “How To” book.  For Mandy, I bought her a guide for her maid of honor role, (a title to which she’s been vehemently guarding against other contenders like LJ!!)

I also included ring pops, little notepads with my own personal inscription reading, “Take notes because I am going to be a Bridezilla!” and a picture of me and each bridesmaid crazy glued in each book.  A cute little keepsake box for each one of my gals. 

Finding bridesmaids’ cards was difficult.  I found a few blank cards with pretty flower girls on the cover made by Papyrus.  They were perfect…and perfectly expensive.  My friend Laura remarked, “well somebody must be doing well” when she opened her card, HAHA!!

I rhinstoned each one of their cards that asked them if they would be my bridesmaid, which literally took hours.  I perfected the art of gluing the tiny stones on with tweezers.  Although I destroyed my good tweezers, and still can’t get the glue off my fingers, I am so happy with the finished product!  My poor dog accidentally rolled in my arts and crafts area which means I currently have a bedazzled pooch parading around my house, but it’s OK because she now looks fabulous. 

Before we sat at the dinner table I arranged everyone’s books around the table.  When my ladies arrived they had to search for which book was theirs. I had included tons of tiny crystals, easter grass, (the kind in the bottom of raffle baskets) and confetti which got everywhere, (messes are always fun!).

After dinner I still had one more surprise for the girls.  I needed it to be dark out, and I needed to be by the ocean. My final surprise called for a dinner by the boardwalk which is why I chose South Fin in the first place.  Months ago I had bought Sky Lanterns off of Groupon.  The advertisement boasted that it was 100% biodegradable, guaranteed to fly and flame retardant.  From my understanding, it is Chinese tradition to send these lanterns off during holidays like Chinese New Year; it’s a symbol of good luck. 

I gave each one of my surprised ladies their very own lantern to light.  The lanterns were supposed to look like this:

But wound up looking more like this:

None would catch fire or float!  We had random, seedy strangers staring at us on the boardwalk screaming, “Yo girls are startin' fires yo!”  I think the wind played a big factor in my surprise’s demise.  We had to move away from the building because SOMEBODY decided to get married in the hall and I didn’t want to set their celebration ablaze.  How rude!

So picture 9 shivering ladies standing on a dark boardwalk with giant white paper bags, (that looked like cartoon grandma bloomers) trying to set fire to each and letting them go in the wind.  Hysterical.  I honestly did not think it would be as dangerous as it was.  The Chinese must have massive brushfires the day after New Year’s.  Finally, we succeeded in getting one to light, only to let it go and have it smash into a railing and crumble in a fiery heap on the boardwalk.  Stomping out a fire in tiny Steve Madden flip flops was definitely the highlight of my night.  Thankfully, my bridesmaid Laura exacted her first duty by joining me in stomping out the flames in her size 5 stiletto heels.  HAHA!!

So now I have about 30 extra lanterns collecting dust in my closet at home.  (I REALLY liked the lanterns).  In hindsight, the best place to do this would probably be on a boat in the open ocean.

 So, with charred feet and all, I would like to thank each one of my girl’s for accepting my invitation to be my bridesmaid.  They got me through life when it was hard to get through on my own, and each ofd them will always be there no matter how much time elapses or how much distance separates us-thank you Laura A., Laura C., Jen N, Jen M., Maureen, Krissy, Lana & Katie for being a part of my new journey!

And the biggest thank you to my sister, Mandy, my Maid of Honor, (as if there honestly was any doubt!).     

Also, a big shout out to the rain, because I was seriously concerned that a rogue ember would light that boardwalk up after we left and papers the next day would have captions like “Bridesmaids from Hell!”  

In Sickness and In Health

For the last week and a half I have been sick as a dog.  Few things are worse than being sick.  You are uncomfortable, in pain, and tired.  My sinuses were so clogged that I periodically turned on the stove tea kettle and put my face in the path of the piping hot steam to relieve some of the pressure.  I recommend this to anyone suffering the same affliction.  The worst part about being sick is that you try to do things that you normally do, like going to work or seeing a loved one, and you only realize what a bad decision that was while you are sitting in your office at 9:00am with an 8 hour work day ahead of you or horrifyingly coughing up mucus on your boyfriend at the movies.  Awesome.

On Saturday I decided I had been resting long enough and that I could cheat one night to go out to dinner with the boyfriend and his friend’s family.  That was tough. I guzzled coffee and even broke my soda rule in order to get sufficient caffeine and sugar in me to stay awake. 

Ruminating on what a bad idea it was for me to agree to go out that night I found myself seated next to an 80 something year old couple, (grandparents of Frank’s friend) at the dinner table.  I really do enjoy speaking with older people.  They have lived whole lives and have so many interesting stories to tell, if your willing to listen.  Anyways, what I found so wonderful about this evening is the way this husband and wife loved each other so much without saying it.  I read somewhere that statistically almost half of all marriages in NY State fail.  That is terrifying.  But here are two people, who found each other while still in their early teens, who have been together ever since.  This gives me hope.

From the caressing touches the husband placed on his wife, gently stroking her shoulder and cupping her hand, it was evident he adored her.  When she said she was cold he automatically rubbed her arm.  To find a love like this is rare and something I wish for everyone.  As the dinner plates were slowly being cleared away by the busboy the elderly husband pulled out his wallet.  He leafed through it looking for a business card when I spotted a few wallet sized photos.  One was of a stunning young girl in what appeared to be a prom dress.  The picture was faded and course around the edges.  I asked him who it was.  His answer didn’t surprise me.  Here is an 84 year old man still carrying pictures in his wallet of his wife when she was younger, and he was so proud to show me.  The love he had for her was so endearing.  Then he showed me a picture of her in a bathing suit, (those old school one piece women’s swimsuits that were scandalous for the 1930’s).  He turns to me and says; “look at those legs and ass!”  His wife was beaming. 

Even though now grey and wrinkled, they still displayed the youthfulness of love.

Love isn’t shouting from the rooftops for everyone to hear.  Love is a very private, silent knowing between two people.  When money, youth and beauty are long gone, all that is left is the company of the other’s personality.

I hope everyone finds someone who will carry his/her picture in a wallet.  There’s no greater loneliness than walking this Earth alone.  While I have been increasingly pessimistic about the institution of marriage, here standing before me was a testament to true love; a love that has lasted through decades and left indelible marks on each of their souls.  I hope everyone is just as lucky.