Current Obsessions II

Here are three things that I can't stop talking about.

1. The power of the Neti pot.
Look, people. Have you never used a Neti pot? Do you know what one is? Do you think it's a bunch of hooey?

I am here to tell you as a former Neti pot skeptic, that that shit WORKS.

In case you aren't sure what a Neti pot is, view Exhibit A:

That's not drugs, people, that's the power of the H2 and the O. And a little NaCl. See! I did learn something in chemistry class after all! (Side note, in my chemistry class we had to make a periodic table of the elements of ______. I chose Rock and Roll for mine. My mom helped me. We had so much fun! Elvis was Hydrogen and the Beatles were ... whatever matches up with Hydrogen on the other side of the table. It followed all the rules of the Periodic Table. I'm still proud of it. I wish I had kept it. Also, my mom's and my knowledge? Formidable. Anyway.)

So you put a little warm saltwater in the pot. And pour it through your nose. If you tilt your head properly, you don't choke or gag on it. It's amazing. It's not even gross. I swear. It just totally irrigates your nose! Clears you right out! AND, a big thing for me is that it doesn't dry me out, but instead moisturizes! I already have dry skin, live in a superdry forced-air situation in the winter, and have side effects from my stomach medicine that dry out my skin. Taking cold medicine really, really sucks the life out of me.

YES!!! A non-chemical cure. I swear it lessened the mouth-breathing suffering and general malaise by a few days. I'm not exaggerating.

2. The power of grapefruit seed extract.
Dudes. This is also a new one to me. When I announced on facebook that I had a cold (because I'm sure my friends care and want to know), my brother's girlfriend shared a secret remedy. Yep. Grapefruit seed extract. Stuff's not cheap. I think it was $13.99 for a small bottle. But all you need is like ... half a teaspoon to a teaspoon, dissolved in a LARGE glass of water.

It tastes a little bitter/sour and weird. But it's worth it. It's not overpoweringly gross and I'm telling you. I had a cold for like FOUR days. Usually it's at least a week to two weeks. And the symptoms started magically dissipating almost immediately after drinking it. Highly recommended.

3. LOST.
Ohmahgah people. LOST. Wm and I are halfway through the second season—don't spoil anything—and I cannot believe that I never watched this show.

Although it does NOTHING for my flight anxiety or the fact that I will be flying to tropical locales sometime in the vaguely near future ... order me up one extra Xanax, sir!

Such a great storyline, cool storytelling and effects, it reminds me of my love of Hawaii, and there are just so many smart, good things about it. I can't believe it was on network TV, actually. It's sort of been ruining my gym habit the last two weeks.

OK, you'll have to excuse me now. I have to go watch Sayyid. I mean, LOST.

Winter Wonderland

So, we're getting socked with our first winter storm of the year. It's slippery and windy and snowy and gross. I went to weather.com to see the latest, so obviously I'm interested and/or concerned about road conditions and travel tomorrow.

But I have to say, this totally cracked me up.

On weather.com's home page:

Vicious winter storm blasts the Midwest

Parts of the Midwest are being ravaged by an December blizzard while the Northeast looks at a wintry mess.

Then, when you enter your zip code, it must do a weather-coding translation based on where you live. Because St. Paul's summary is this:

Light Snow

17°F
Feels Like
2°F

Muaaaaaahahahahahahaa! For the rest of the world it's ravaging blizzards, but for we St. Paulites, it's just a little light snow. Midwestern modesty kicking in. Or bragging rights? Or stupidity for continuing to live here? You decide.

The Crud

I haz it.

Loud, mouthbreathing, chest hurting, cracking lips and nose... UGH.

I really haven't had a cold in a looooooong time. I think I got one because I was just saying that I haven't had one in years. I'm loading on C and Zinc . . . I even drank this super bitter grapefruit seed extract this morning. It was horrible, but I think it might have helped! Then I took a shower with a eucalyptus shower tablet and that helped open my sinuses a little bit. I bought a Neti pot yesterday but I didn't realize we didn't have any regular table salt at home (we always use sea salt) and i've been feeling too cruddy to go out and get some. I've been wanting to try it out though!

When I was kid and we got the crud, as my dad always called it, I stayed home from school and he made a grilled cheese sandwich and tomato soup and we would watch People's Court and Love Connection ("back in two-and-two"). We laughed when Judge Wapner would put the smack down on people (the original cranksta judge) and when people on Love Connection went on horrible dates.

Then my mom would come home after she was done at work and I would look forward to the moment when she'd put her cool hands on my forehead to see if I had a fever. Even if I didn't, I still loved that moment. Just the other day I was throwing myself a pity party and I said, "Mom, will you feel sorry for me for a few minutes and pet my head?" She did. It still has the same curative power.

At least now I don't have to chew those awful grape children's Tylenols.

I need to get better! I have next week off and hope to hang with Pamcakes and her babies but I can't if I have the sniffles.

What are your favorite home remedies?

NaBlo Official Finisher

Well, well, well, another NaBlo under my belt! During a very busy month, too. Not all my posts were super quality but it's really helped me get back into making blogging a part of my schedule. I miss it when I don't.

I won't lie. I'm really tired and sort of lacking for subject matter today. I didn't sleep a wink on Saturday night, which is strange for me, and yesterday we spent five hours on the road (well, I did catch a few winks in the car), and then we had to feed our LOST addiction.

I FINALLY understand what the deal is with that show! Wow, talk about sucking you in with its bizarreness. I'm about halfway through the first season (thank you again Netflix) with William and we are totally, completely obsessed. He has to work late tonight and I'm anxiously awaiting him to come home so we can at least watch one show.

Otherwise, I'm gearing up for my first full month at the gym. Tomorrow is an hour of cardio and an hour of weightlifting. So far, the scale hasn't budged, but I do feel like I can see some very minor changes. So, hey! It's something.

OK, really, I think I'm down to about six brain cells. More tomorrow.

Thank you for Being a Friend

This weekend, William and I met Dorothy and Don, Mae and Liz, a priest (who blessed us), and touched a baseball that Yogi Berra and Whitey Ford signed.

We talked about institutional food, military medals, 100-year-old photos of long-gone, distant relatives, practiced our two-phrase Polish vocabulary, were vigorously hugged and kissed, and ate dinner at 4:30 and got ready for breakfast at 8 sharp. We were stared at, reached out to, and thanked. We were asked to speak up and step closer. A lot.

Above all, we were thanked.

I guess that's not what I expected.

William's grandparents recently moved into an independent senior living complex in South Dakota, not too terribly far from their last home, and the home before that, a sprawling farm. Life has changed a lot for them since the farming days they know and love. It's hard accepting that you don't or can't do the work that you're used to. It's hard to wonder what you do next with your time and feeling like you have limited options.

There are a lot of people in their building who feel that way. Some were nuns, and helped the sick. Some were farmers. Some have kids spread across the country. Some served in WWII and can now talk about their days overseas, while they couldn't as young men. One man told me: "My daughters, they married lawyers. They have money that I could never imagine, while we hang on to whatever we got as hard as we can," clutching his fists in the air for emphasis. He sat close to me, nearly touching my face, because about two years ago, he began rapidly losing his sight. He told us about his medals, but only after we described what they looked like and what they said. THAT he remembered.

Then there was Liz. Liz was a nun who left the convent when her mother was dying. The nuns wouldn't let her leave, so she quit. She was lucky enough to meet the famed Yankees players Whitey Ford and Yogi Berra while working as a nurse in Rochester, Minnesota, with the photo and baseball to prove it. "You can kiss it," she told us, "if you want to." Then she laughed and took us on a tour of her favorite artwork, interrupting herself only long enough to take us to a friends' apartment upstairs, who made lots of beautiful things herself. She was about to get in the shower, but she put her "housecoat" on, and received us like we were old family.

We shook hands with strangers in the chapel, strangers who thanked us later for coming to shake their hands. We heard life stories, life sorrows. But always at the end, "But now you're here. And you just made my day." Or, "I'm so glad you are here. I feel like I know you already."

If you think you can't make a difference without spending a lot of money—If you think you can't do it without spending a lot of time—If you just don't ever get around to it, but you think you want to.

There are lots of seniors out there, who have memories to share and lives not yet fully lived (and they're fascinating). And they love young people, even if they're crotchety or don't see or walk so well. And if you just make eye contact, you have a new friend. A new friend dying to show you a cookie recipe or a ceramic pot or photos of their kids. A new friend who wants to know all about you and your life. A friend who needs a hug and a kiss, and maybe a "peace be with you."

William and I are lucky to have grandparents that are well and with it, even in their eighties and nineties. It's a treasure trove of stories, lessons learned, love, and kindness. And good recipes and laughs and chats about politics or what life was like, or how crazy life is now, or how good communities are built. (Watch a 92-year-old man talk about, and proficiently work, a cell phone. It's a trip.) Old men flirt better than anyone in the world. Grandmas just want to be that—grandmas.

But not all of these people have that. And they're starving for it—whatever it is that you have to offer. Not money, not gifts. Just your conversation and attention. And maybe you'd make a good friend. By just being you, by just being there, by just showing you're interested, you've made a friend for life. And you've made someone's day—someone who maybe feels like they don't have much purpose anymore.

It's a win-win. Because you'll walk away feeling like you have a purpose too, one that isn't an obligatory get-through-the-day, pay-the-bills one. A really important one, even if it's just a genuine five minutes of your time.

Sorry

Daily quota met for NaBlo....

Must run.

meetups

Lots happening today. Started the day out with gym time with Big Sister and Big Sister's friend--a half-hour Zumba Express class and then an hour-long Flow class. Feeling good. Cleaning our place. Party-food prep.

Reunion with some of my favorite people in the world tonight. Must run.