Category: Junk Drawer

You Are What You Seek

~ Lenore Diane ~ 10 Comments
Amherst Shore, Nova Scotia by Jill C.

I am taking a risk here. I am going to take the “sharing too much information” to a new level, even for me. Please brace yourself and understand, what you are about to read may cause you to feel awkward and uncomfortable. You may even feel embarrassed for having read what I am about to share. That’s okay with me, because I am writing this for me and no one else. Feeling a little intrigued?

I had an ah-ha moment over the weekend. I realized, you are what you seek. Furthermore, I realized I have a tendency to seek disapproval, perhaps even disrespect. And, I believe I open myself up to receive disapproval and disrespect by placing a target on myself with my open and honest blog.

In past posts, I mentioned that addictions came in all kinds of flavors. Of course, at the time I was referring to ice cream, chips, etc. But lately, as I have been actively seeking negative comments, I realize that not all addictions are food (or even drug) related.

Today, I am calling out an acquaintance, without naming names. This acquaintance and I have met, and we share some of the same friends. Learning s/he was a writer (of sorts), I had hoped to connect with this person and talk about writing. Unfortunately, a connection was not in the cards. Though this person rarely spoke to me directly, s/he did write about me in the world of Twitter; and, this person did not speak kindly.

The point has come when I need to stop obsessing over this person’s negativity. Okay, the point came, went and is now overdue. I need to put aside my curiosity and need for approval, rather disapproval. Though I do not know the reasoning behind the negative things I have seen written about me, I feel the reason I seek out the negativity is due to another type of addiction.

Am I a stalker? I suppose in a ‘Twitter’ kind of way, I am. I think in this day and age, anyone accessing Twitter and following others is technically a stalker. And, I would actively search to see what sorts of Tweets were being sent to this person. So yes, again, I suppose I was a stalker. And well, I need to remember something my husband has told me for years: “Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to.” Updating his statement to accommodate a Twitter society, I’m guessing he would say, “Don’t go looking for Tweets you don’t want to see.”

In addition to being a Twitter stalker, I spent a period of time living the life of an idiot by actively seeking disapproval and hatred. As I said earlier, this person (and some friends of this person) provided the disapproval and hatred by actively writing things about me that were not kind. According to this person, my craziness amused him/her. I suppose I am glad this person found me amusing, though I cannot say the same for this person. Sadly, the words this person typed about me brought me to tears for at least two reasons: 1.) the words hurt and 2.) I was stupid enough to go looking for it.

I assume that by admitting I have actively sought out Tweets by this person, reaffirms his/her belief that I am crazy. So be it. In the beginning, I wanted to meet this person, who I saw as a writer with large following of readers. And, in the end, I met myself, and I started writing again. At times, this experience was painful for me, but I got something positive out of it.

Amherst Shore, Nova Scotia by Jill C.

We live in a world where thoughts can be shared with countless, nameless, faceless people in seconds. Proverbial filters and holding of tongues are no longer. We feel safe hidden behind the keyboard, no censors holding us back. And, as we hide behind our keyboard safe in anonymity, hatred is spewed easily within seconds and runs rampant like a virus. Just like a porcupine raises its’ quills when needing to defend itself, the person called out for being mean, ugly, disrespectful, insensitive or rude is ready to attack. After all, it’s not the person spewing the hate that is wrong, it is the person actively seeking what is being spewed – right? As I said, my open blog makes me an easy target; no fake names, no hiding behind keyboards and no anonymity here.

I suspect, after reading this, you will once again Tweet about how “[expletive] crazy” I am for stalking you. That’s ironic, too. You’ve labeled me a stalker, yet you actively sought out my blog. Interesting. Anyway, carry on with your negative self.  I’m done. This was my Carly Simon “You’re so vain” composition. I did not deserve and will no longer seek your disapproval and disrespect. “Buh-bye.”

No-Fuss Friday

~ Lenore Diane ~ 3 Comments

.:: Labor Day Laughter
Over the Labor Day Weekend, we gathered with my family, which included siblings, spouses, nieces, nephews and cousins. I had been looking forward to the gathering for over a week, and I was not disappointed. We all had such a great time.

No nose piercings, just a blue M&M coated tongue. Rock on, Charlie. Rock on.

One of my nephews works undercover (seriously). In order to look the part, he has tattoos and body piercings. Truth be told, he may have had these things regardless of the line of work. I wish I could post a picture taken of him and my brother. My nephew looks so fierce, when in reality he is one of the nicest guys you’ll meet. (Unless, of course, you meet him out back, while trying to buy crack. Just saying.)

Anyway, my nephew was not the only one with body piercings (though he won the prize for non-subtle piercings). One of my nieces has her nose pierced. Apparently, while she was sitting and visiting with my 4yr old, he noticed her nose piercing and asked, “Why do you have a nail in your nose?” Once my niece’s laughter died down, she told him about having her nose pierced. My 4yr old then asked, “Can you put a nail in my nose?”

::

Tattoos and piercings, fashion or fad?
“I have a new mohawk. What do you think, Dad?”

A nail in your nose, purple dye in your hair;
Getting a third piercing because of a dare.

Thoughts of nipple piercings make me twinge;
As kids’ rites of passage make parents cringe.

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.:: Special Moments
The passing of Labor Day brings with it a new season for television shows, which typically includes schedule changes. One such scheduled change involved our local PBS station.

Joe wakes up at 6:30am during the school week. Before eating breakfast, he and I sit on the couch and watch TV together. Prior to Labor Day, we’d watch Dragon Tales, which really – yeah, that’s all I have to say about Dragon Tales.

Well, Labor Day has come and gone, and PBS changed their television schedule. Now at 6:30 M-F, Joe and I watch Word Girl. We became addicted to Word Girl in the afternoon, as it used to be on at 4pm. And, yes, I didn’t stutter – ‘we’ became addicted to Word Girl. “Word up, it’s Word Girl.” I love Word Girl. “Woooord Giiiiirrl!” Sorry. I told you – it’s an addiction.

Sitting and watching TV shows like Word Girl, Curious George and Dinosaur Train are things I enjoy doing with the boys. Special moments, I treasure, during this phase of life.

::

Word Girl is the best.
Her word usage does impress.
Captain Huggy Face.

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.:: Dinner with a Friend
Last week, my friend backed out on dinner plans, and I mentioned her in my blog. This week, she kept the date, and look – I’m still mentioning her in my blog. However, this time, she is mentioned because she helped me think of something to write about for today: My abnormal quirks. I have many you know.

I suggested I write a ‘Top 10″ list of my ‘abnormalities’, and my best friend of over 30 yrs suggested I go for a ‘Top 20″. (Can you feel the love?!) Here goes:

Lenore Diane: Lover of Plain Jane Comfort

Top 15 Abnormal Quirks of Me, Lenore Diane
1. Shy, yet shares everything within seconds.
2. Insists on mowing the grass uphill vs. going sideways.
3. Avoids flying, regardless of cost.
4. Rearranges furniture every couple of months.
5. Uses one side of the towel for drying off above her neck, and the other side of the towel for drying off below her neck.
6. Won’t let her boys have lollipops or gum.
7. Wears socks with sandals.
8. Sometimes wears turtlenecks to bed.
9. Rarely goes to a bar/restaurant without seeing someone she think she knows.
10. Rarely goes to a bar/restaurant and actually knows the person she thinks she knows.
11. Won’t wear shorts in the summer.
12. Blushes easily and vibrantly.
13. Has an obsession for men with long hair. (Not talking mullets, people.)
14. Obsessed with ice cream and prefers to eat it alone.
15. Paranoid about being judged. (Hmm . . . perhaps because she shares too much?)

Let the record show, I sat down with Rob and my friend to compile the above list. After several hours, Rob said “Maybe you’re not as crazy as we thought.”

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Be sure to take care of yourself and others.

Help Yourself

~ Lenore Diane ~ Leave a comment

How many self-help books do you own? Need a minute to go count the collection you’ve created over the years? Or, have you passed your books along to others?

Lately, I seem drawn to book after book, promising me a better life. Please, don’t misunderstand me, I love my life. Still, with so many books within reach touting a better life – well, color me interested.

I think I am still coming off the “Eat, Pray, Love” thing. I never read the book. (Why does admitting to not having read the book take me back to my high school days and Cliff Notes?) I did – you knew this was coming – see the movie. And, though the movie wasn’t great, I find myself thinking about the messages portrayed in the movie. I have been accessing my library’s website daily, to see if a copy of the book is available. Hang on, I’ll check now . . . ARGH! Still unavailable.

Self-help books are destroying me. My over-analytical ways are only encouraged by the countless books out there claiming to help me. Who says I need help, anyway? Hush. I heard that.

“I’ll have to try that.” I hear myself say that statement time and time again, during conversations with friends and family. We are always offering our advice about this or that; assuming how we were helped will fit nicely and neatly in another person’s life. Though really, we’re all different.

Though written words and another person’s experience may inspire, I find more insight and inspiration by doing the most simple tasks. For example, when I am making and packing my son’s lunch for school, I find a peace making his peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Sometimes, I get lost in the spreading of jelly across the peanut butter, attempting to cover the peanut butter perfectly, while creating an artful spread of jelly.

I find self-help in the calming (and yummy) scent of freshly made cinnamon toast. I find self-help in looking out my living room window and catching a glimpse of a deer running through the yard. I find self-help in sitting down with Joe, mesmerized while he reads to me from the books he brings home from school. To me, self-help is easily attainable when you grab hold of the good moments in life. And, when the bad moments hit, well – perhaps that is when the books are helpful. The books give us something to read through, escaping our momentary feeling of madness, until the dust settles and we see the good again. Perhaps we’re not looking for answers in the book, as much as we are looking for a diversion.

I’m not in a state of madness at the moment. Although, if you know me, you know this could change at any second. Still, as I continue to wait for a copy of “Eat, Pray, Love”, I find myself becoming obsessed with the countless self-help books being released daily. With so much help available, I may need to find a self-help book on how to learn to need more help. And, to make non-significant matters worse, next week begins the last season of Oprah. ACK! Oprah’s last season!

I wonder how many books will be released helping folks deal with Oprah’s final show: “Oprah: How to Live After the Show Ends”. Hmm . . .  Anyway, I’ll continue to check the status of “Eat, Pray, Love’ at my the library; and, in the meantime, I’m willing to bet I could find a self-help book to help me deal with my obsession of self-help books.