Tag: postaday2011

More Friends

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I’ve been trying to drive up my number of Facebook friends to surpass 1,000.  I believe the more friends you have, the more you achieve.

There are studies to bear this out. UCLA researchers studied LA high school students and discovered More school friends?=better grades. I like to think that the study goes for more adult friends too. More work friends?=better work.

Journal of Research on Adolescence — adolescents with more in-school friends than out-of-school friends had higher grade-point averages and — complementing this finding — that those with higher GPAs had more in-school friends. (from http://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2010/06/100603172221.

It fits in beautifully with my Rules for Happiness #1 — Pile on the People. https://mbcoudal.wordpress.com/2011/05/23/pile-on-people-and-activities/

The key for me is to draw the circle wide. My friends are varied in status, age, race, gender.

I learned a long time ago, especially as a writer, that the person to befriend is not the CEO but the CEO’s assistant. He or she is the one who really knows what’s going on and can get you the good story.

I love that FB has made the word friend a verb as well as a noun. It’s no secret that I’m in love with social media, especially blogging on WordPress.

One of my real (and FB) friends mentioned that she’s concerned that by blogging we’re creating a false sense of intimacy. Maybe it’s true we reveal a little too much of ourselves. I’m not sure — to figure out what I think about this, I’ll have to talk it over with one of my friends. Or maybe I’ll just instant message them.

3 Simple Rules

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When I used to do stand up, I would tell myself 3 things right before I went on stage:

1. Be yourself

2. Have fun

3. It’s important

And I am trying to tell myself these same 3 rules at the start of every day.

I did not sleep well last night. One of the darlings came into bed with me at around 2. She’s nearly as big as an adult so she woke me. We have no air conditioning. It was  hot. I tossed and turned. Then I  moved to my daughter’s now-empty bed. I’d heard an antidote to insomnia is changing rooms.

As I walked in the hall, I heard the television was still on. My husband stays up way too late into the night, sometimes until 3 or 4. Then of course he falls asleep in the early evening hours when you’re talking to him (blame the Parkinson’s). Hearing the television just made me feel all sad and jumbled — my life, my restless night, my work. And I couldn’t wait until morning so I could dump all my thoughts, worries, dreams, into my journal.

1. Be yourself. Because there is a unique point of view based on a unique life’s journey. And for whatever reason, this is my journey. This is mine.

2. Have fun. Because I seriously believe that we are put on this earth to give and experience joy. The goal in life is to be happy, joyous, and free.

3. It’s important. Because I can easily dismiss my point of view, or expect that I am less than. But what I have to say is important.

I did fall asleep in my daughter’s bed and woke to write all this in my journal.

Everyone Drives Me Crazy

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It could be the heat today. But everyone is so annoying! At work my colleagues expect all my work to be done last week. At home my kids yell at me to help them with homework. Genius takes time, my friends. You can’t expect a unicorn to work like a mule. Maybe I am just crabby.

I blame it on my husband’s Parkinson’s Disease. I blame everything on his PD.

And there is one other thing — one huge contribution to today’s overall sucky-ness. (If you know me, you know I’m rarely in this sucky camp. I’m usually in the glass-is-half-full camp. I stay happy because I have made up and followed my 7 Rules to Happiness and they usually work! But not today.)

Today’s pity party reached a crescendo when after racing my bike to get to one of my darling’s appointments at the orthodontist, I discovered I’d have  to cough up $295 dollars to replace each of my darling’s two lost retainers. That’s right. A set of lost retainers will set me back $590.

After the trip to the orthodontist I consoled myselt that when I got home, at least the house would be clean. See, Chris is extremely messy (blame the PD) (and admittedly, I’m no Felix Unger myself), but Wednesday nights are usually the one night when I don’t have to kick the house into some semblance of order when I get home from work. Because A., the cleaning person, works magic in our apartment on Wednesdays.

I was thinking ‘Tonite, the house will be clean and I will make myself some jewelry.’ I’d biked to the craft store and bought some beads. I like to be crafty. It’s calming, fun, productive. But A. couldn’t make it today. So I spent the night, cooking, cleaning, being generally pissed off. I didn’t make any jewelry. I just helped with homework and cleaned the kitchen.

Okay, I can’t end this post without admitting to a few highlights of my day too: Laying on the grass at Barnard with Liz at lunchtime and reading the kids Deenie  by Judy Blume for our Mother-Daughter book club before they went to sleep.

Tomorrow’s another day. I doubt it will suck. I will try to be grateful and I will try to be happy.

Why Was Our Senator at the Beach today?

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I was suggesting the girls take one last trip to the women’s room before we drove home from Jones Beach. That’s when I spotted the senator on the boardwalk. I was thrilled.

“Hey, that’s our guy,” I said to my husband Chris. “What’s his name again?”

“Chuck Schumer,” Chris said.

“Right. Kids, let’s meet our senator — Chuck Schumer.”

We shook hands. I snapped a picture. He asked, “What’s your name?

“Catherine Jones.”

“And is this Mrs. Jones?” he asked me.

“Actually, it’s Ms. Coudal, but whatever.” I mumbled.

“Nice to meet you.”

Then we moved on. I commented that he was taller in person. We stopped at the bathroom. We spun some wheel to get a free pair of sunglasses at a bank give-away.

We left the boardwalk and then saw the senator again. How did he get ahead of us? He was chatting with another family. Now there were  young men standing near him holding up signs, “Meet Senator Schumer.”

“Oh we love him. He’s our guy,” I told the young men.

We went and said, “Hi!” again to Senator Schumer. I blurted out. “Hey, we love the president. And we love you.” I totally interrupted his schmooze-fest with this other family. He was saying the family’s name — it was an Italian name — and he knew someone that they were related to. If you’re a politician, I guess you know people.

He turned his attention to us. “Hey the Joneses! You’ve got an easy name.” We snapped another picture.

I will try to remember our senator’s name next time I see him. Just like he remembered mine — while not mine exactly. But my family’s name.

The Cloister Gardens

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Note to self: it’s not the destination, it’s the journey.

To get to the medieval monastery, the girls and I walked through the Heather Garden in Fort Tryon Park. I bumped into my friend Dorothy in her floppy hat watering the flowers. She’s a gardener who used to be an editor. We chatted about coworkers. We chatted about Bette Midler, who was going to be honored by the park.

Then we chatted about the Art Students League. We both took watercolor classes there. But there are no watercolors as beautiful as flowers in a garden. If I painted them, they’d look too blue, too fake, too beautiful.

I asked Dorothy, “Where is the heather?” She was vague, “Over there.”

But she pointed out the phenomenal bright red poppies. “As big as a baby’s head!” I said. We marveled at the flowers and walked on.

We tried to lunch at the Leaf Cafe but there was a wedding reception in progress.

“I’m never getting married,” K. said. “Because I could ruin some kids’ lunch.” So we walked to the Cloisters and lunched there. It was a lovely day in the park.

It felt like summer had just descended us as we walked through the Heather Garden to the Cloisters.

Just that  morning I had been reading a study from a Twitter Friend, @uukady  that said, “Cultural activities are good for your health, Norwegian study finds.” http://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2011/05/110523201050.htm?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=feed&utm_campaign=

“In fact, being involved in either receptive cultural activities (such as attending a theatre performance or viewing an art show) or creative culture activities (where participants themselves are active in the creative process) was found to be related not only to good health, but to satisfaction with life, and low levels of anxiety and depression,” the Norwegian study noted.

Visiting a museum or garden feels good. But the visit is also good for you.

Especially the journey through the garden.

image

Love Tennis

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I love biking, tennis and soul food.

That’s what I was thinking when I was riding to work yesterday. But I couldn’t think long, because I kept stopping to snap pictures of peonies.

I played tennis two nights this week. And thus, my energy for blogging has waned. I’ve been waking up all creaky from the tennis, but then anxious to play again. Last night Dan invited me to play for the third night in a row (Thanks Dan!). But instead, I chose sangria and soul food with girlfriends (Thanks Angelique & Cindy) at the fabulous Melba’s in Harlem (Thanks Larry for the recommendation).

I discovered when we walked back to unlock my bike after Melba’s that Harlem was spinning and there was something stronger than white wine in those white sangrias!  So I stuck to biking through the safety of Central Park not the mean city streets.

And even though I didn’t play tennis last night, I woke up today, again, all creaky and achey. Tennis or sangria? Pick your poison. You’ll pay in the morning.

Just stop on the way to smell the flowers.

Poem in a Pocket

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This morning I stood between the twin beds in the twin’s room and read them Dorothy Parker’s poetry. Other mornings I’ve woken them by singing — Rise and Shine or Good Morning from Singin’ in the Rain or Beautiful Day from U2.

But poetry’s as good as singing for waking the kids.

And Dorothy Parker cracks me up. Waking the kids is an onerous activity and Chris is rarely up for the early-morning wake-up festivities. So I might as well please myself. And Parker pleases me.

I read them Parker’s The False Friends. It ends:

Who flings me silly talk of May shall meet a bitter soul; For June was nearly spent away Before my heart was whole.

I love her smart aleck, wise gal humor.

I was reminded of the power of poetry last night. The girls and I had gone for a swim and shower at the JCC. Where we primped in front of the mirror I noticed someone had left a small button. On the button were the words, “Is that a poem in your pocket?”

That reminded me to carry poetry in my pocket. The idea of a poem in my pocket made me incredibly happy. Or maybe I was happy because I’d been swimming or hanging out with my daughters at the health club after a long workday.

And so I woke up happy. I put a Parker poem in my pocket and I woke my daughters with poetry.

Pile on People and Activities

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My number one rule is pile on people. I like to pile on activities as well as people. It is my way of coping. I like to say yes to every invitation and expand on every good idea offered — lessons I learned from performing improv.

Calder's Red Mobile, creative commons

Families are like fine art mobiles — when one member swings one way, the others move another — compensating, balancing, attempting to maintain equilibrium. With Chris’s increased slowness, I take on more. Like the arm on a mobile, I swing faster. I fly one way, while other pieces bounced along. Life swings every one. With Chris away with siblings in the Adirondacks this weekend, I did more. And I liked it.

When he’s gone, I depend more on friends.

Here was my Sunday. I got up early.

  • journaled
  • blogged
  • cabbed to pick up Charlotte from a sleep over
  • brunched at friends’ — lovely — bagels, lox, whitefish
  • dropped Hayden at church
  • napped for 20 minutes
  • got the car
  • picked up H. from church
  • dropped one child off at Randall’s Island, Icahn Stadium
  • drove to Cold Spring to get Kate from her sleep over
  • walked around with friends and K. in Cold Spring
  • watched the people fishing
  • chatted, picnicked by the harbor with friends
  • ate yogurt at a yummy yogurt place
  • picked up K.’s things from Garrison
  • drove K. and myself back to Randall’s Island
  • cheered H. and his team at track and field events
  • drove friends and kids back to city
  • parked the car at a lot
  • made dinner — chicken, rice, broccoli, strawberries
  • helped H. pack for 5-day bike trip
  • cleaned
  • sent myself and the kids to bed at 10:30

In a family, there are tons of ways to cope when a spouse is out of town, sick, or just unable to deliver the goods. People tell me, “You do too much.” Yet I would rather pile on people, activities, work, exercise, kindness than pile on resentment, solitude, inertia.

I’m sure there’s a lesson in how to balance your life based on the image of  a Calder-type mobile. Balance is not part of my vocabulary.

Enthusiasm, passion, friendship, too many activities? That’s the way! Pile it on.

Saturday in the Park

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Yesterday, Barbara and I walked for two hours in the park. We stopped at the old Tavern on the Green spot for a snack. Then again we stopped for a few minutes at the top of the stairs by Bethesda Fountain.

This is such a sweet spot. In my writing class, a woman wrote a long essay about the meaning of Bethesda Fountain — how you can forget you’re in a city surrounded by buildings. You can’t see a building when you’re down by the fountain.

I love the way the angel is a part of her surroundings but above them too. In third grade, C. studied the park and told me the name of this sculpture is the Angel of the Waters. She is a celebration of clean water for the city. Thanks to Wikipedia, I learned this 1868 sculpture was the only original work of art Olmsted and Vaux commissioned for Central Park. It was designed by Emma Stebbins, the first woman to receive a commission for a work of art in New York City. Woman power. Water power. New York City power.

Me and Barbara –power walking — A part of it all and above it all too!

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Blogging — Going A Different Way

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On Faith

I love how easy it is to change directions on WordPress. I changed the name of A Church A Day blog to My Rules https://mbcoudal.wordpress.com/ when I realized visiting a church a day was too much of a commitment. (Although I just won a journalism award for that blog, so I will probably go back to A Church A Day when the kids go to camp this summer.) I also want to stick to My Rules because I want to be accountable to the 7 life rules I made up for myself.

On Fitness

I changed the focus of my running blog http://runningaground.wordpress.com/ to health when I found out I had basal cell cardinoma. But I still love the idea and name of Running Aground. I am logging, blogging, slogging my way to fitness.

On Writing

I changed this blog http://gettingmyessayspublished.wordpress.com/ to The Connected Life — a much better title than Getting My Essays Published. At first, this blog had a private setting because I wanted to keep track of where I was sending my essays and where they were, or were not, getting published. It seemed a personal and boring endeavor, the pursuit of publication. But then I wanted to comment on so many things about social media. I’m not really in love with this blog’s URL or the name. It’s kinda meh.

On NYC

My favorite of my blog titles is My Beautiful New York. This is the only title I haven’t changed since I started almost two years ago. I still love the name My Beautiful New York.

The title says what a blog title should say: Here’s something delicious. Here’s what I’m passionate about — or at least musing on. For a few months My Beautiful New York was mostly pictures downloaded from my phone.

When I post and want to refer back to an earlier post, I sometimes wonder Which blog did I write that for? Then I Google MBCoudal and a tag. 

And then there are times I wonder which blog to post on — should I post my musings on My Beautiful New York or My Rules? Like those several posts about the sidewalk art. They seemed like quintessential New York stories, but ultimately, I decided they had more to do with an epiphany or synchronicity. And that jibes more with My Rules.

Also there is this questing of PostADay2011, posting every day of 2011. The tag PostADay2011 is getting too big in my clouds. It’s dwarfing my other tags, so I’m going to have to untag PostADay2011.

I’d do it now, but I’m going to watch a movie with my kids. I love my kids even more than I love blogging. I do love blogging, especially because you can change their names. Kids? Not so much.