My life experiences thus far have shown me that humans, while so different, in many ways are quite alike, and all very interesting. The chance to connect with anyone, even a stranger, for only a minute holds the possibility of being life changing.
Between the years of 2007 and 2011, I followed my boyfriend at the time from Small Town, WI to Sanford, Florida. The beginning of our relationship was a whirlwind. Not too long before we started dating he had broken up with his girlfriend of 3+ years, and I had finally ended a very abusive relationship. We met through my cousin and within a couple weeks of first meeting, around Christmas, we began dating.
We had only been together a few weeks when he told me that it had been his life-long dream (he was 25, I was 20) to be an airline pilot, but never felt the support of his girlfriend at the time, and had never had enough confidence to just go for it. But now, he was going to do it. I supported it. I was quite excited for him, and while I liked him a lot, our relationship was so new, neither of us were too seriously invested. Our own lives were our priorities. He told me he’d be moving to Florida within a month or so.
About a week or 2 after him breaking the news, we went for a walk around his neighborhood. He asked me to move to Florida with him. He was wonderful, I was young and had never lived outside of Wisconsin, or done anything so....big! So, I said “Why not?!” and we both said if it doesn’t work out, it doesn’t work out. By the time we had been dating for 6 weeks, he moved. I stayed behind to work and save money for another 6 weeks.
While Florida may not seem too far or very different, it was a bit of a culture shock for me. I was used to the small town life, knowing everyone, keeping my doors unlocked...our first night together there he took me for a ride on his motorcycle. My first time. He was one of those men with a compass built into his nose. Navigating his way by the sun and the stars. We were riding along on some back roads in the Ocala National Forest when we saw something amazing in the sky. A shiny metallic object flying higher and higher into the sky. Fire and a huge line of white smoke attached as a tail. We stopped in the parking lot of a gas station to watch our first (of many) Space Shuttle leave our atmosphere. A breathtaking sight.
As we sat there, taking it all in, smiling and so excited, we are interrupted by a car suddenly pulling up to the front door of the gas station, a guy runs out leaving it running, runs into the store, runs back out with a 6pack of beer, drives off with tires squealing, and the owner running out, yelling, scissors in one hand, a portable phone in the other. This was our first (also of many) time we ever saw a robbery, let alone any crime in general. (We stayed long enough where a retail store I worked for was robbed of clothes on a near-daily basis, where we locked the doors during the day while we were at home without even thinking about it, and when Casey Anthony “lost” her daughter....Florida soon became a place like no other.)
One day, one of my favorite experiences not only of living in Florida but of my entire life thus far, took place at a Publix. Now if you know me, you know I have a severe distaste for grocery shopping. I just don’t like it. But one day, after hearing how great the Publix stores are (seriously, how “great” can a grocery store be??!?! ...well....they need those stores everywhere because they. are. wonderful. !! (Although Woodman’s and Festival Foods here in WI are pretty great too)) we decided to do our shopping there. Now, another thing to know about me is that I rarely have any sense of “stranger danger”. I’m quite comfortable with striking up a conversation with any random person in the vicinity. While we were in the checkout line, I noticed the older gentleman behind me was wearing a Green Bay Packers hat. HELL YES! I am not only PROUD to be from WISCONSIN, I am PROUD to be a PACKER-backer CHEESEHEAD through and through. So, of course, like a giddy little girl I turn to him and say, “Awesome hat! I’m from Wisconsin!” And do you know how that man replied??!? He said to me, “Thanks, I used to play for the Packers”.
Well my jaw dropped and I somehow became even more giddy (and goofy) than before. “OH MY GOD who are you?!?” I asked while extending my hand for a shake. “Gene Breen” he said, “I played in ’64 with Bart Starr”. After telling him how amazing that was, as if he didn’t know, he told me he’d always consider himself a Packer, and them to be his team. “It’s a great organization and a great state.” It was then that I realized this was THE ONE TIME I had left my camera and phone at home. But even without the physical proof of this memory, this is one I will never forget. I walked out of that store just beaming. The coolest person I had met, hands down. So nice, so humble, so proud of this great thing he was once a part of that he will always feel part of it. ((Later I concluded that due to “A+B=B+C means A=C” transitive property or something (I hate math.), since I shook his hand, he on many occasions shook/high-fived Bart Starr’s hand, I have, therefore, touched Bart Starr’s hand (just let a girl dream her dream).)) And we had a connection. Something so seemingly simple as a logo on a hat turned out to be something so big for both of us. Two strangers, one love. And then we both turned and walked along and moved on with our lives.
What I am trying to convey with this story, is that other people come in and out of our lives. Sometimes their presence is fleeting, sometimes it becomes permanent. Never be afraid to reach out. Always be kind. Make a connection, be it with a smile, a compliment, or even a proposal for a first date. The world is full of a lot of people. All different, and all alike. You never know the impact a personal encounter can hold...where in the world it can take you, what of the world it can teach you. Humans, can be, beautiful creatures. Let’s not let each other forget it.
A day is only bad if we aren’t able to laugh at any of the mishaps.
The last couple of days have been so full of mishaps, it is impossible for me to not laugh, and also impossible for me not to share. So please, laugh along.
As I mentioned in an earlier blog, I recently returned to college after somewhat of a hiatus. I had been crazy bag of emotions in the days leading up to my first day, but this past Monday I woke up ready to take it all on. Deep breath in, several cups of coffee, and I even ate breakfast which is a rare thing for me to do. I checked my schedule about 1.7 MILLION times. I did my hair (another rarity). I. WAS. READY.
I arrived on campus 30 minutes early. This was perfect, I thought! I went to my first building, found my classroom, and went around the corner to the cafe/lounge area and relaxed with another cup of coffee. About 10 minutes before class many people started crowding around the door. My first class was in a large auditorium with a set of doors on each side of the room for smooth traffic flow. I got up and proceeded to wait with the masses for the previous class to finish and exit. I overheard a student near me ask another, “What room are you in?” to which the other replied, “Right here, 1309”. Fantastic. Just another confirmation I was in the right place. Finally the doors opened and soon we all begin piling in, sitting down, pens and notebooks ready. Here I am! I am back!
I sat towards the front, in the middle of the row. Within minutes the room was packed. Within a few more minutes the professor begins to speak. She states her name (I hadn’t really bothered to look at the names of my instructors), gives a little information about herself and starts to talk about the basic expectations of the class and us as students. After a couple minutes, and once the projection screen finally showed the class name and number, I had that sick, sinking feeling. I’m in the wrong freaking class. I sneak a look at my schedule, still positive I was in the right room. I saw the sign outside the door! But after a few more words from her mouth, it was confirmed. This was a health class. I definitely didn’t sign up for that one. And here comes the conundrum. I am in the middle of 250 people. Class has been in session 10 minutes. Do I try to quietly gather my things and discretely (yeah right) climb over everyone in my row, exit the room and THEN try to continue being quiet and discrete and enter the correct room...if I can find it? Well this decision took another 5 minutes. The clock is ticking. I am probably twitching. I mean, this is the first day of the semester. People are still switching their schedules around throughout the entire 1st week so it’s normal to miss a class, right? Ugh. Honestly, I said to myself, “Fuck it.” I bit that embarassment bullet and got up and got the hell out of there....head high but eyes to the grown. Luckily I didn’t trip up the stairs. But either way I might as well have been living one of those “naked in front of an audience” dreams.
I got out of the room, and right to the left was another set of doors.....for my correct class. The “1309” sign was slightly closer to those doors than my original set. Cute. So I walk in, luckily during a lull in the class, but sure enough, the professor sees me, waves me up front to pick up the syllabus. I told him I wished I had the excuse of being a tourist in a different country, but I am only just a transfer student who should have stopped at Sesame Street first to review my numbers. He laughed. Class resumed. At the end of it a boy next to me said he didn’t blame me for getting lost, there’s rumors going around the Psych students switch classroom numbers and study the reactions of people. I laughed. All was fine with the world again.
....
Until I went to the bathroom before my 2nd class. Some people leave their coats and backpacks on the floor out by the sinks. I’m still new and awkward and untrusting so I bring my coat, my backpack, my purse and my coffee all in the stall with me. I use the toilet, as all humans do, gather all my stuff and as I walk out of my stall towards the sink, another girl enters the bathroom and walks right into the stall I walked out of....EVERY OTHER STALL IS EMPTY. ((who does that??!?)) As I am drying my hands I immediately realize something is missing. My coffee. It’s in that stall. On the shelf. Behind the toilet in which I hear her urinating. Goodbye almost full venti dark roast. Due to the possibility of the splash effect I must leave you behind. Ugh.
Luckily I made it to my 2nd class, on time and in the right room on the 1st try. The class went well, and by the time it ended my excitement and confidence had returned. My goodness! What a roller coaster of a morning! I walk down the steps, and open the doors to the frigid air and the sun extra-brightly reflecting off of the snow. I turn my backpack around, open the front zipper to pull out my sunglasses, and what do you know. They have snapped in half. If only I had some white tape to repair them I could have rocked the nerd-taped broken glasses look after the day I had been having! But alas, I walked to my car with my eyes squinted.
But I made it. Even with those silly mishaps, I still did it. I took a step toward my goal, and even in the face of fear and embarrassment and frustration, I kept going. And I laughed. A lot. How could I not?!? It was 11:55 am and the morning had been simply ridiculous.
They say things happen in 3’s....so I should be golden for awhile.
Right??!?
Need some extra laughs at someone else’s expense in your day? Follow me on Twitter for more of my Back To School “experiences”.
And don’t forget to laugh.
:)
Education is the movement from darkness to light. ~Allan Bloom
Education is what remains after one has forgotten what one has learned in school. ~Albert Einstein
Education's purpose is to replace an empty mind with an open one. ~Malcolm S. Forbes
Education is not preparation for life; education is life itself. ~John Dewey
Well I have almost survived my first week returning to college after a several year break. Just one more day to go. This return has made its way to #9 on my bucket list; so it is written, so it shall be done. Right??!?
I have a bit of a funny attitude about this return, and I’m sure a Psychologist could analyze it perfectly, but I think I know what’s going on in my head.
As I see it, there are 2 main types of knowledge, or “smarts” we obtain in life: street smarts and book smarts. Things you learn from life experience, and things you learn via reading and being structurally taught in an academic setting. Having both is quite vital to making it in this world. (Trust me, I knew a girl who had perfect grades, but zero common sense....it was astounding to me how intelligent and dumb she was all at once. How she survived outside of the library I will never understand.)
As I am an average of 5-9 years older than the majority of the student body here, it is difficult to not have some sense of arrogance about me, as I have experienced more. I have lived in that “real world” our parents began threatening us with in High School. Why do I need to sit next to anyone who has never filed their own taxes? Paid their own cell phone bill? Gone grocery shopping or chosen to watch a Presidential Speech instead of a reality show? Don’t I know more than them? Shouldn’t I be given an honorary piece of paper stating I paid a lot of money and took a lot of classes? And how come one even needs a piece of paper to prove to employers out there that we are capable and deserving of a career? Why can’t an interview and on-the-job training suffice?
This defiance and defensiveness is mostly based off of fear and self-disappointment. Fear of standing out and not fitting in. It is uncomfortable going to class and sitting alone, while groups of 2 or 3 come in together, knowing each other from the previous semester, having signed up for the class together. Do I look old? I shouldn’t....I am not at the age of wrinkles and I am wearing boots, leggings, a chunky sweater and a scarf JUST LIKE every other female here...maybe if I incorporate catch-phrases like “hashtag yolo” and start taking more selfie’s I’ll be set.
Why am I even worried about this? One advantage I should have with my age is maturity. Self confidence. I should be proud to be me and not care what other people think. The High School popularity contest is long gone. And I’m just here for that piece of paper anyway...right?
So why the self-disappointment? Because I shouldn’t be here right now. I should have been here 5-9 years ago. That piece of paper should be in a dusty frame on the wall in the house I own in Suburbia. Another advantage I should have with my age is acceptance. Understanding that life turned out the way it did and it isn’t too late. The ability to not be debilitated by regret. There is a lot to be said about swallowing one's pride and taking a vulnerable leap.
I’m beginning to see that college, no matter when in your life you attend, is so much more than a piece of paper. Sure, each class you take specific to your major will allow you to be the best you can be in your specific career (how can you be what you want to be if you haven’t learned how to be it?). Yet beyond those “smarts” you get from those books, you need the “smarts” you learn from the elective courses, the diversity you see in the halls, the discipline you learn from simultaneously studying and working, the self-pride you gain when you get an A. That piece of paper isn’t just a gateway into employment, it is a symbol of the journey you took, all the work you put in, everything you experienced, and the person you became. That paper isn’t just a solitary journey. Sure, you did the work and it is solely yours, but during that journey you came across and were affected by many people. We feed off of each other. We learn from each other along with the books. That paper is so much more than ink on a former tree. And eventually, that expensive piece of paper allows you to cross #9 off of your bucket list, and proudly move on to #10.....or #5 because you skipped that one out of fear....and it will feel great.
I also must add, learning never stops. Be it from the books or from the streets, there is always something new to absorb. And I love it. It is part of the excitement of life. And I want to be an advocate of Education. There is substantial evidence showing a correlation between Education and crime/poverty rates. We may never achieve world peace, but if there is anything that can be done to make the world just a little better, even if only in one tiny place, it is worth it. And....as I am going for English Education, I would be the worst offender of hypocrisy if I didn’t complete my education. So, there’s that. ;)
Knowledge is Power!
READ!
Live. Love. Learn.
Remember when you were 13 and everything about you was just...awkward? Full of puberty and emotions and acne? It is known as the awkward stage in life. Well, let me tell you what:
There comes another point in our lives, for most people at least, called the "quarter life crisis". It happens around the ages of 24-27, when we realize we have lost ourselves and must go on the soul-searching journey to find ourselves. The thing is, we don't reconnect with or find the person we used to be, we find the person we ultimately will become.
There are many stages of life, and we can become many different people during those stages. I am 27 and am still in this quarter life crisis stage (I think it may be lasting a bit longer than "normal") and I have never felt so awkward. Uncomfortable. A bit lost. And yet, quite excited! Big things are happening! I am embarking on the path that will lead me down to the rest of my life. Just as everyone else does every single day. No matter the stage in life.
A few years ago, as I was first entering this “quarter life crisis” stage, I thought, even in my awkwardness, that I had figured it all out. I had solved the mathematical equation to life. Recently, I have learned a few more things, one of them being that you never really do figure it ALL out. But here are a few more tidbits, pieces of wisdom that would be wonderful to be born knowing, but seem to be only learned through living.
-- Choose your living quarters wisely: a ceiling fan in the bedroom and living room is a must! (There is little worse than stagnant air) And wood floors are beautiful, but they don't hide dust bunnies. It may feel great to live in a house, but you must first decide if it is worth shoveling, and mowing, and paying to have your fridge repaired. Speaking of repairs, make sure the heat/AC/stove, etc. work. Trust me, they rarely get repaired in a timely manner and you're stuck for weeks sweating/freezing/microwave cooking.
-- Be honest. Not only with others, but especially yourself. Allow yourself to feel what you feel. Don’t hide or avoid your emotions. Confront the tough times head on with a confident and positive-as-possible attitude and you can do anything. Being open with others allows them to help you through it if they can. Accept the help.
-- Not everything works out the way we hope. There will be loss and letdowns and heartbreaks. But there will also be love, and happiness, and sweet surprises. Don’t give up. Keep on moving forward. Believe in life. Believe in yourself.
-- Try new things. It’s ok to be afraid, but it’s even better to conquer your fears. Eat sushi. Go skydiving. Say “hello” to someone new. Go back to school. Move away from home. Wear a different color. Whatever it is, big or small, step out of your comfort zone and experience an unknown part of the world around you. Your eyes will open. Your life will change.
-- Do good. Be good. It’s as simple as that. Be kind. Don’t assume. Don’t judge. Don’t hate someone’s differences, embrace them. Embrace your own. Or accept them and move along civilly. Smile. Say hello. And “please”. And “thank you”. The world will become a much better place.
-- Take care of yourself. Drink water. Eat your vegetables. Get enough sleep. Move around. Brush (and floss!) your teeth. And don’t completely deny yourself of every indulgent happiness; grab a beer, eat some chocolate.
-- Budget. Save. Don’t be frivolous. Again, don’t deny yourself everything you want, but make sure you’re still able to have all you need.
-- We are born into this life tiny and helpless, surviving only by the love and care of our parents. After years of growing in wisdom and gaining strength, we eventually get to the point where we return the favor.
-- Keep calm and have patience. The most difficult virtue to attain. But it keeps you calm. Keeps your levels in check. You cant control everything. Sometimes things are just the way they are. Sometimes you just have to wait. Deal with it.
-- You cant choose love. It chooses for you. Just because someone doesn't love you the way you want doesn't mean they don't love you with all they have. And even though they may love you with all they have doesn't mean it's right.
-- Communicate. Keep in touch. Friends, family, neighbors, whoever. Don’t let someone important to you slip through your fingers. While time alone is sometimes needed, loneliness is so cold and dark. Communication can also be the key to preventing or resolving conflict. Talk. Be open. Uncork the bottle of your thoughts and emotions.
-- Don't leave anything behind. You never know where life may take you. Feelings change. That shirt you left on the bed? The toothbrush in the drawer? The movie in the dvd player? It’s much more difficult to get back after someone has become a regret. Just take it with you unless you are sure you can live without it, or you can’t live without them.
-- Make a bucket list. Big dreams, little dreams, simple things, impossible things. Write it down and one thing at a time, do whatever you can in your life to get a step closer to making at least one dream come true. And when it does, work towards another. Some of the best feelings are those of accomplishment and self-pride.
-- Wear sunscreen. The temporary tan or burn isn't worth it. And every few years or so, porcelain skin is in.
-- Get to know yourself. Find your passions and strengths. Embrace them. Let them shine. "To thine own self be true". Follow your dreams, not someone else's. Go where you want to go, and don't let anyone make you feel guilty for being "selfish"...this is after all, YOUR life.
-- And lastly (for now), don’t be afraid to make mistakes. As my hero Bob Ross said, “There are no mistakes, only happy accidents.” How true, how true. Chin up. And if by chance embarrassment creeps up on you, just think of me today...It is my 1st day back at college (University of Wisconsin - La Crosse), after taking a break for a few years. 1st day, 1st class, I was in the wrong room. Right next door to the correct room. I might as well have been living that “naked in front of an audience” nightmare. Talk about awkward. I’m 27 and maybe returning to college was too lofty of a goal....I should have returned to Sesame Street first to review my numbers.
Ahhh life.
Yesterday, December 6th, marked 24 years since my mother went missing.
A lot happens in 24 years.
It’s a quarter of a lifetime.
It was 1989. Look at how the world has changed since then. Music, the internet, text messaging, fashion, everything. I have grown up, I have changed. Many times. I am no longer that 3 year old. And I barely remember the few memories I had of her.
I have seen the movie “The Wizard of Oz” at least a hundred times. When I was little, after she disappeared, my father went back to school to get his college degree. During his night classes my grandparents would come over and watch me. For about a month and a half straight, until my grandmother could take it no longer, “The Wizard of Oz” was the nightly movie of choice.
It’s strange, growing up and seeing pictures of my mother, hearing stories, it still seems like a strange Grimm’s Fairy Tale that was told to me. Not something that actually happened and was once a part of my life. The thought of flying monkeys and talking scarecrows seem more realistic. I remember thinking that if I clicked my heals just like Dorothy that somehow, everything would go back to normal. I would be back over that rainbow, living this magical life with both of my parents just as I should.
That feeling and those dreams eventually faded. Days, then weeks, and sometimes even months would go bye without a thought of her.
I was told she said she had a conference to go to. I was told her work called my father that next day asking where she was. I was told there was no such conference, and her whereabouts were unknown. I have spent 24 years “knowing” she left us.
A few years ago I had written a blog in what I believed was from her viewpoint of the event. For most of my life I had felt abandoned. unloved. bitter. I often found myself running away from people and any sort of confrontation and I blamed it on her. I said the only thing she ever taught me was to leave. Soon I didn’t see her as an actual person that existed or may still exist, but an excuse for every negative thing about me. I had heard she could be stubborn and independent to the point of selfish. Unaffectionate to the point of unloving. Yet free-spirited and quite artistic with her words and her camera. Sometimes I thought she was an entity of my past and an image of my future self.
A few weeks ago, all of that changed.
I had received an email from an officer who had reopened the case and was determined to solve the mystery. So sure she hadn’t left. Certain something had happened. It was during this 2 hour conversation that I learned more about my mother and the woman she was than I had ever known, or really, cared to know. In so many ways it was easier to accept she didn’t care and had just left. If she happened to be an amazingly loving mother and was taken from me, well, it seems so much more heartbreaking. I know that sounds confusing, and I’m sure my viewpoint on that will eventually change, but when the mind accepts something a certain way in order to cope and move on, any sort of shift in that mindset can be very difficult to deal with, especially with something so heavy.
So, yesterday, knowing the 24th anniversary was here, and with these new feelings on who she was and who she might have been, I foraged deep within the cave of boxes in my basement and found gold. I found every article she had written for the Burlington Standard Press, love letters between she and my father, and even letters of congratulations from her boss when she took a new opportunity elsewhere (he stated he was “excited she was one step closer to her dream of writing for the New York Times’. I want to write for the New York Times. It was a beautiful moment to feel so connected). I went back to my old photo albums and saw the pictures of the two of us in a whole new light.
For the first time in 24 years I felt loved. I felt connected. I felt I missed her. I felt she was real.
And I felt, for just a moment, if I clicked my heals together just right, maybe I could see her face just one more time.
Hold on to those you have. Give them all of your love, every moment you can.
Kerry O'Brien Krueger - Missing Person Report
...well that’s it. Just keep calm. Calm down. Wooosaahhh. Simmer.
After 11 years of working in some avenue of the Customer Service industry, I have discovered my biggest pet peeve. Also, I have found that a lot of people are assholes. And it just can’t be necessary.
The pet peeve part? Here goes:
I’m doing my job, whatever it may be: refilling their coffee, completing their transaction of the sale of a shirt, or a cell phone payment, or their paycheck deposit. Upon completion, this is the most common way the conversation goes:
Me: Alright, you’re all set! Have a great day! :)
Them: Yep.
.........waiting........*they walk/drive away*..........*my jaw drops*........
Seriously!??!?!? All I get is “Yep”??!!? First of all the lack of manners is appalling (Um, YOU’RE WELCOME!!!!! Thanks for saying THANKS!!!), but what’s worse, is I wish upon you a “great day” and you just take it and run with a “Yep”?!?!?!? Do you not hope I also have a good day? Is saying “You too” just too many syllables for your vocal chords and mouth to form that a singular “Yep” is all you can possibly muster? I mean really people. Really. You don’t have to spend hours of your day daydreaming all of the wonderful things you possibly could hope to happen to me, you don’t even have to deep down truly mean it. But seriously. Say “you too” when someone tells you to have a nice day, or else you’re just a jerk who deserves to step into a deep puddle. How rude!
Continuing on that note, when did we become so elitist? And where did this sense of entitlement come from!?!??
I truly believe, while the government may be a bit too “involved” in certain aspects of our lives, it should be law that everyone’s first job should be in Customer Service. The world would learn a lot. And I bet there would be a decrease in big meanies.
Until that happens, here are a few lessons I have learned, and a few pieces of advice I’d love to pass on:
1. When you are at the bank, or the cell phone store, or liquor store, or WHEREVER, and they ask for your ID, just show it!! Don’t say “Why?” or “Well they know me here” or anything other than “Sure!”. I don’t care who knows you or how famous you think you are, in many businesses, it is their company’s policy to ask for identification. Even if I am working and you are my relative or best friend, I have to ask you or I will be fired. And I mean really, in many cases it’s for your own protection that it is verified. And if you think your picture is bad.....well.....you are showing that same face in public right now....so....stay inside if it’s that big of a deal. Or do you not want to show it because it is just too difficult for you to pull it out of your purse or back pocket? Well then you’re probably the same lazy person who won’t say “You too” when I wish you a good day. Or wait, what? You left your ID at home like always? Well have fun when you get pulled over and get an extra ticket for not having ID on you. See? It’s the LAW!!! (Or do you also tell the officer that you don’t need it since they all know you down at the precinct? Well, aren’t you special.)
2. Don’t yell at the bank teller if you have an overdraft fee. Or the cashier at the cell phone store when you have a late fee. (Yes, I have been told, “You charged me a fee and I am not going to pay it!”.....well, no Mr. Ass, I didn’t. I did not physically look up your account to see if you were late or had a negative balance and then physically put a fee on there. The company’s automated system did that. If you were responsible and paid on time or were smart enough to balance your account, this wouldn’t have happened. It is 100% your own fault.) TRUE STORY: I was working as a rep at a cell store, and a man came in saying he needed to get his phone repaired, and this was the 3rd time he was coming in. He proceeded to tell me that I didn’t fix it right the first 2 times and I needed to pay his insurance fees and blah blah blah....I kept calm and matter of factly told him that I am not a tech so I have never touched his phone before. I also can’t afford to pay his insurance fees but if I was rich I would love to pull my debit card out and pay the $$ that needs to be paid for the phone that he initially dropped and broke. After more yelling and finger pointing I find out that it is actually his wife’s phone and he’s just in there trying to get it fixed because he is so tired of her complaining and yelling at him for it not working properly. To which I responded, “So you’re sick of your wife yelling at you so you come in and yell at a stranger in hopes that will fix things?” A million rude comments from him later, while I continue to sit back calmly with a smile on my face (which no doubt made him more upset) a coworker came up to us, slammed his hand down on my desk and yelled, “HEY! You are not going to be so rude to her any more. It’s your fault the phone is broken, if you want it fixed you have to pay. That’s the policy. And if you just feel like yelling at someone yell at me!” The man got up and muttered something under his breath, but I made sure before he walked out the door to say, “Have a nice day!!!”....he didn’t respond.
3. Expanding on this finger pointing and “you did this” thing.....understand the difference between the person who just works there and the actual company/automated occurrences. If your cell tower is down, the rep at the store did not turn that tower off. So don’t blame them. If the website where you pay your bills is down, the rep did not shut the website off. If the coupon expired yesterday and you were out of town and could only go shopping today, it was not the representative who chose the sale dates, or forced you to go out of town then. (There will be another coupon next week, for sure.) If the store has set a limit of 10 in $1 flip flops, and you have 32 children, again, the rep did NOT make that happen....most likely....Either way, stuff happens. sometimes it’s beyond anyone’s control, and if you really feel like you are SOOO important that YOU specifically deserve special treatment (ever hear the saying, “well if I make an exception for one I have to make an exception for all”?....don’t be greedy. You aren’t better than anyone.) try being nice, and say things like “please” and “thank you” and “HAVE A NICE DAY” !!!!
4. Tip your servers and bartenders. Seriously. Just do it. If you can afford a drink or a meal but can’t afford a decent tip on top of it, YOU CAN’T AFFORD TO GO OUT. Yes, I understand it is of their own choosing to work at a place where they get $2something an hour, but maybe their choices are limited....you don’t know, and you shouldn’t judge. Either way, it’s their job and they work hard. If they’re taking longer than preferred to bring you a refill, look around! Is it busy? Do they have other tables? (again, you aren’t the only and most important person.) When they ask you if there is anything else you need, and you say “a napkin” and then they come back with one and then you say, “Oh can I also get butter?” and then they come back with that and then you ask for......STOP! Ask for it all at once! Servers are amazing at carrying multiple things at once, plus, all of your demanding is wasting their time, other tables’ time, and even your precious time. If you have children, control them. This is a topic I could spend a million paragraphs on, but in short: don’t let them run around, if they throw their entire meal everywhere you should at least clean some of it up, and if they are screaming and yelling you need to invest in a muzzle or a babysitter. Your child can affect everyone in the entire restaurant, and everyone deserves an enjoyable dining experience.
There are many many many more lessons I could teach, but we'll just start with this. In general, be patient. Keep calm. Be nice. Things happen, people have bad days, but don’t you think that if you’re having a bad day, maybe the person you are being rude to is also having a bad day? And you’re just making it worse. Or maybe their day was fine....until you came along.
That being said, I’d like a give you all a challenge. Actually 2. First of all, say “you too” when someone says, “Have a nice day”. Second, try to give at least one stranger one compliment. Be it every day, every couple days, once a week, whenever. Every so often, throw something nice out there.
“I like your shirt”
“Oooh! Pretty eye makeup!”
“Hey! Neat shoes!”
“Here, let me get the door for you.”
You never know what your nice gesture can do for someone.
Do Good. Be Good.
Make yourself a blessing to someone. Your kind smile or pat on the back just might pull someone back from the edge. ~Carmelia Elliot
The other night I was driving to what would have been my 3rd yoga class when something big happened.
It was about quarter after 6pm, on one of the first fall-like evenings of the year. it felt simply beautiful driving with the window down, hand out, riding in the wind.
Suddenly I heard tires screeching. I looked up, and beyond the 5 or 6 cars ahead of me I saw smoke. Then fire. Then the screams reached my ears. I can’t tell you what it was but something pulled at my heart. I immediately crossed the other southbound lane to the left of me, and pulled into the median, facing the northbound lane. I left my car, unlocked, window still rolled down, and wallet on my seat, and ran toward the burning car and piles of mutilated metal and glass.
A woman stopped me, frantic, “Can I please use your phone? I need to call my husband.” As I handed her my phone I asked if she was hurt. She wasn’t. So I left it with her and ran towards the worst part of the scene. Three men were hovering over the man they had just pulled out of the burning car. He was flailing and screaming. They were pressing a blanket on his severe head wound.
“Is there anyone else in the car?” I asked.
There wasn’t.
I turned around and faced the other car involved. Two men were helping the man still in the drivers seat. I saw a woman, pacing and crying, holding her side with blood coming out of her mouth and all over her left hand. It was her husband still in the car. Her two daughters, also passengers, were sitting on the side of the road, in shock but not visibly badly injured. So I stayed with the woman. I asked her name. Linda. She was terrified for her husband, still stuck in the car, trying to move with the help of the 2 strangers. I finally was able to get Linda to sit, by putting her in view of her husband. We got him to tell her he was ok. She had just returned from Mayo....for her cancer treatment. She said she would never get into a car again.
Finally after what seemed like an eternity, a multitude of police, fire and paramedic personnel arrived.
One officer got behind Linda, crouching in the grass behind her, and stabalized her neck. A paramedic in front of her assessed her injuries and bandaged her hand. I let go of her just for a moment to retrieve my phone to get ahold of her brother for her. He didn’t answer. She begged us not to call her father, for “he was too old, and has already been through too much”. I refocused my attention to her, holding her other hand, when the officer asked me to do him a favor. “These mosquitos are terrible and I can’t move as I am holding her head straight. Will you smack them for me?” Before my first slap on his forehead I asked if he was sure - it isn’t every day you’re allowed to hit a cop. He nodded and with each smack of those pests upon his skin I apologized. One unreal and nearly humorous moment in a situation even more unreal and much more horrible.
As it became evident my “help” was less needed, I stepped back and watched the scene.
The firefighters dousing the melted car. The paramedics securing neck braces and hoisting each person on a gurney. The police officers getting statements from each witness, each stranger, each hero. I found myself standing next to a young woman, she looked to be about my age. She had been enjoying the seemingly beautiful evening with a bike ride, when he heard the same tire screeches I had, but they were much closer for her. A car which had swerved out of the way, luckily unharmed (the woman who asked me for my phone) nearly clipped the black of this young woman’s bike in trying to stay out of the accident. But her tires, and quite possibly her life, were spared. She quickly decided when this was settled down and we were able to go she would take the quick way home. After a few more minutes, watching the ambulances begin to drive away and the investigations and clean-up processes start, she said the magnitude of what actually just happened around her was just beginning to hit. She was going to call for a ride home. She tried several friends but no one answered. The scene was nearly clear now and the officer we had spoken to said it was fine for us to leave.
I turned to her and said, “I have the smallest car in the world, but let me take you home. we’ll fit your bike in there somehow”.
She agreed and we walked ourselves and her bike toward the middle of the 4-lane highway where I had left my car. Window still down. Wallet still on seat. As she was taking her front tire off in order to fit it into my tiny little vehicle better, it was then that we finally introduced ourselves. Her name was Taylor. We left the scene, maneuvering through the last remaining emergency vehicles and I drove her back to her dorm downtown. We were both a bit shocked but not too much for friendly conversation during the drive. She is a computer science major. She asked if I was a nurse because I seemed so calm and knowledgeable about Linda possibly having an internal injury. I said I wasn’t.
When we arrived, as she was reassembling her bike, I thought, maybe everything does happen for a reason. Maybe there is such a thing as being at the right place at the right time. and maybe, everyone who comes into your life, no matter in what way or how fleeting their presence may be, maybe they are supposed to be there. Maybe everything means something. Or maybe it doesn’t. But still, I gave her my number (and of course facebook info....I mean, this day in age....) and said, if you need a friend, or a ride, or anything, I’m here. And we’ve spoken since.
And everyone involved in the accident will be just fine.
When I finally drove home that night, much earlier than if I would have made it to my yoga class, I pulled into my driveway, looked up and the now dark and star-filled sky and started shaking. What if it had all turned out worse? I was 20 feet from a vehicle completely engulfed in flames. Linda and everyone else stayed conscious the entire time, but what if she hadn’t? What if those men wouldn’t have stopped to pull a stranger from that burning car? What if I hadn’t stopped? It may be silly to dwell on the “what if’s”, but everything you do, and even choose not to do affects the very next event in your life. And even sometimes later events. And even sometimes other people’s lives.
What would you do?
