Anything is Possible

Yesterday, someone at work posted this video of Randy Pausch on the intranet. It's a shorter version of his hour-long "Last Lecture," that he gave at Carnegie Mellon in September 2007. (Here's the link for the hour-long one.)



He's dying of incurable pancreatic cancer. The amazing part is that this is about how to live, not how to die.

It's all about focus . . . and I'm glad that I'm a Tigger.

Azaelas, yet?

In updating Goodreads, I see that Rachel's got a link from my alma mater listed under one of her books. It turns out it's the link for the summer reading program UNC-CH started a few years back (it's painful to think about how many years back, now). And my mind wonders, "Are the azaleas blooming yet?"

It's Chapel Hill. They're about 2 weeks ahead of us on all things blooming. My azaleas have buds on them, so I'm wondering, is this what the Old Well looks like right now?



I miss the beauty of that campus every spring . . . And yeah, now I'm a little wistful because of that thought.

*Sigh.*

Sexy is . . .

On my day off today, I stopped into Vickie's to redeem a coupon. And, then . . . then I did what some women wish they could do (and could do, but choose not to, for some reason or another), because I could: I sashayed my way around Hanes Mall, swinging my impossibly tiny pink and black Vickie's bag by my side.

Yeah, I got looks - almost every ten feet. And I wasn't trying to look particularly hot today. (There are days when I do; this was not one of them. Heck, I stayed in bed reading until almost noon.) I'd even venture to say that I was looking particularly not hot. Jeans, a rather raggedy gray sweater, my cheap (and muddy) black boots. Not one lick of makeup. I didn't even fix my hair today; just jammed a headband on my head. No beautiful necklace; no stunning earrings. And I can promise that the people on What Not to Wear would have had a field day over the bright yellow "Live Strong" bracelet that so sorely clashed with my muted color palette today.

I'm not even sure I had the attitude during that walk that I've got now - at least at the beginning. By the time I made it to J.C. Penney's, I had it, though.

Yet, that look must have reminded people of something (I'm not sure I want to know what, although I'd bet I can guess pretty darn well). My college roommate would be shocked to know that I did this today; I used to completely, blatantly, rudely ignore anyone who even so much as looked in my direction. Heaven help you if you were brave enough to say anything to me. Jess can vouch for that. Heck, sometimes I still act that way.

But I think what did it was the tiny pink bag (smaller than a bag of potato chips that you'd eat with lunch), which just begs people to wonder, "What fits in that - that fits on her?"

And that: that is what Vickie's sells. Opportunity. The opportunity for me to decide to take the chance to be all that - or not. And it was fun.

Poignancy

I am, it seems, hounded by poignancy these days. While I don't find meaning in everything (there's not meaning in everything, even if the author/creator wanted to instill meaning in that creation), it seems to jump out at me at times when I'm not expecting it.

Like now. My brain's fuzzy from napping on the couch with the cat. I walked into the library to shut off the computer, but decided to check my email one last time, and I get caught up in links. My simple five minutes on the computer has easily turned into 25.

But it's been worth it, especially after I was called out/pinned down/targeted by this gem: "Only for today, I will be happy in the certainty that I was created to be happy, not only in the other world but also in this one." About which I think, among other things, fuzzy brain and all, "I was, wasn't I?"

And this one: "Only for today, I will firmly believe, despite appearances, that the good Providence of God cares for me as no one else who exists in this world." Wow - and that's a wow based upon my understanding of a lifetime of fault-filled love from those around me - that's usually pretty good. I can only guess at how much better that is when you make it a perfect, divine love. (Read more here.)

It reminds me of this quote from a great little book a dear friend gave me: "Imagine the universe beautiful and just and perfect, Then be sure of one thing: the Is imagined it quite a bit better than you have."

I'm thinking that finding stuff like this on The Happiness Project every time I stop in these days means I'm gonna have to add it to the Reader and the Blog Roll. But the time will be worth it.

Our Worth

(February 16, 1999)

The biggest mountain is made up of tiny grains of sand and earth. The widest river is only tiny drops of water. And, in the human race, you are just as important as the next person.

It helps to know that one little drop of water is as complete in itself as the whole river or the entire sea. Each tiny part of anything is infinitely important. Each petal of a daisy is necessary to give it balance to stand straight on its stem.

Never say you are not important. You are not just important; you are essential. You have a definite purpose and it is a sacred responsibility.

Peace,
Tawanka

P.S. - Lizzie, thank you so much for the cute Valentine card. It was very thoughtful of you. Love Ya.

****************************************
(No one can say it quite like Tawanka . . . thanks, Grandma. I continue to be amazed at the synchronicity of the need to post her emails and what's happening either in my life or around me. God's perfect timing, of course.)

Living Authentically, part 1

There's more to this topic than what I'm posting now; the thoughts are still formulating in my brain. But I was forwarded a blog post that had this great little gem in it: "If I pretend to myself that I’m different from the way I truly am, I’m going to make choices that won’t make me happy."

It's just a different way of saying, "I need to live authentically. I need to be myself - and when I am, my life will be that much more full, that much more satisfying, that much more MINE and not someone else's."

Read more at The Happiness Project.

My "well"

Today, my dear friend, Jess, sends me this blog post: 'Filling The Well'. It's good enough that it made (makes?) me cry.

And so, tonight I'm filling my well (Please, get your mind out of the gutter for just half a second. I know, I know, the gutter is a great place to be, but my well will not be filled with anything other than a bit o' duck time, in that sense.)

So, here's my plan for my perfect evening:
- Cajun pizza from CPK (find it at the Teeter)
- Most of the bottle of 2006 Les Jamelles Pinot Noir (from Whole Foods)
- Blogging - with the requisite "cat-in-the-lap"
- Journaling in the brand new journal I picked up earlier this week at Border's
- Gloating over the fact that I'm still winning the NCAA March Madness office pool - and hoping that doesn't change drastically after the first (or second or third or fourth - or even the final) round ends. I could use the money, you see. And yeah, I might watch some basketball. Or I might not. It doesn't really matter.
- Prepping my desk for the frenzy of buying Buffet tickets in the morning
- Hitting the hot tub and watching the moon, but bemoaning the lack of stars because of the overwhelming amount of moonlight.
- Reading The Little Prince as I fall asleep

SPV: March Madness

I'm winning the tourney pool at my office! Ok, granted, I entered two brackets. My top bracket is tied with three others. Granted, only seven games have been played, but on bracket 1, I'm 7-0. I've looked at the others that I'm tied with, and I could have the top position all by myself by the time I go to bed this evening!

My second bracket is tied for fourth with four others.

Out of 31 entries, I think I'm doing pretty well. :)

Quietly Making Noise

(c) Margaritaville.com

That's the plan. In Raleigh, Saturday, June 7, 2008. Jimmy Buffet announced for Charlotte last week, but I won't be able to attend that one. So, I was thrilled to hear today that all us Parrotheads would be "Quietly Making Noise" in Raleigh! I might just have to break out my new Margaritaville shirt this week to celebrate!

I've been pondering (for quite a while) an open to letter to dear Jimmy on this blog, basically begging him not to forget about his beloved Carolina again this year! I was so distraught that he hadn't announced by this time last year for Carolina that I WENT TO CHARLESTON to ask about it at the Margaritaville store there. (No, that wasn't the only reason, but damned if I didn't make sure I hit the Margaritaville store.)

You know, they tell stories of him landing the Goose in Wilmington. That he and the Fishsticks show up to do a show somewhere in Wrightsville Beach. That he's got ridiculous requests from his performance venues (new golf clubs is a popular one I hear). That THIS CONCERT (every year) is going to be his final tour; he'll never tour again after THIS YEAR (insert year here).

Yeah, it's probably all conjecture and urban legend. But the concert's worth it. It's the experience. I mean, how many people can say they've stood outside in a tornado on July 4th for their favorite singer? How many people know there's a strategy to getting Buffet tix? That you pull up the website and you try the phone number on both the house phone and the cell phone? You've got less than 10 minutes. Ready, get set . . . gone!

It's "The Year of Still Here!" Fins up!

Bragging Rights

My youngest sister, Deb, was informed recently that a grant she wrote as an Americorps volunteer at Boat People SOS was a winner in a competition. Well, not just a winner; it took top prize in the World Proposal Championships, earning $5,000 for the non-profit where she spent two years as an almost-paid volunteer. It was the best out of several hundred submitted from around the world. You can read more about it here. Congrats, baby girl. You've got the right stuff and you've proved it again!

And, while I'm bragging on my sister, let me just say that she can also rumba like nobody's business. And cha cha. And jive. And she loves it. You can tell. She and a stand-in partner competed at yesterday's Triangle Open Dancesport Championships. Though it was a long day, I'm now glad to say that I've gotten to see her dance in competition in person.


(Yes, the photos are a bit fuzzy. They were dancing too fast for the camera! I needed to up the ISO speed, but couldn't remember how! In any case, realize that the entire dress is fringe and you can see that fringe in the last picture - completely perpendicular to the floor!)

And the last bit of my bragging rights for the day: No. 1 North Carolina Claims ACC Crown. Sorry, Clemson, but I'm glad you guys beat those other guys in blue yesterday. Bring on the brackets . . . and let March Madness begin!

Pink Snow?

No, not exactly, but pink it is. And it's the kind of pink that will bring me some green. My house (well, my attic) now is full of insulation, to where you can consider it R-49 and then some (because of the really, really thin and poorly distributed cellulose insulation underneath it).

It didn't take too, too long - we had most of it finished in about four hours - and dad so graciously agreed to finish the rest of it after that. So it's done.

In my quest to make my house more energy efficient, my next step will be to install a flue in the chimney, to insulate under the floors, to insulate the walls, insulate the hot water pipes and replace the rest of the windows that haven't been replaced yet (7 down, 12 left). The easiest stuff is slowly coming off of the list. The rest of the list may wait until I've got the HELOC for it, though!

It's Time to Write . . .

As I am occasionally wont to do, I was cleaning up my email and found a particular one that has lit the fire under my muse's proverbial behind and she now demands that I write. She has kicked my editor out of the building and I could probably crank out a good 3K this evening, but alas I'm telling her to cool it - at least until tomorrow. I've got real writing for work to do (yes, at home), this blog post to finish (which I've thought about writing, oh, about six times in the past three days) and books I'd much rather be reading.

'Course, now that she's gone to sulk in the corner of my subconscious, I'll probably be lucky if she decides to come back out tomorrow evening. Fickle *&^%$.

And a little randomness from my life, because it's oh-so-interesting:
- Love this chapter that my friend Amanda found on Goodreads. Particularly like this quote: "She is unique and utterly herself and that is close to the heart of the reason you love her . . ."

- synerG on Tap at the Weatherspoon Art Museum. Good night. No new volunteers for the tourney, but a good night. ;)

- My fine luck: April 29 Buffet is coming to Charlotte! Yeah! Finally! After skipping the Carolinas completely in 2007, he's coming back around. Ok, so who's buying the tickets? Oh wait . . . I'll be in Belize. Guess it's just another reason to go see him in New Orleans at the Jazz Fest one of these years. Or keep a better eye out for Freddie . . .

- My fine luck, part deux: The client meeting that will keep me from watching the ACC tourney on the big screen in the big, beautiful conference room tomorrow and probably drinking green beer. Back to the mantra: "It IS a good thing to be more than 100% billable. It is a good thing to be more than 100% billable. It IS a good thing . . ."

Hope for Peace

(February 15, 1999)

We have to believe in peace - even though we don't always feel it. It is in us and it will grow if we give it the opportunity. With peace of mind, doors open wide, the tide turns and something good breaks for us. It is a good enough reason to work toward solutions rather than dwelling on problems.

Peace,
Tawanka

P.S. Waiting for another big snow storm to hit tomorrow p.m. Don't expect it to be as bad as they say, not if the temperature is going to be in the upper 30's . I don't think these weather people know what they are talking about.

Just Uninspired . . .

that's all. That's the only reason I'm not writing right now: here, or my personal writings, or should I ever make it back to them, the books. I could dish about why I think that is, but I really don't care to.

Perhaps the inspiration angel will hit me tomorrow, after I've written three releases, three PSAs, and a communication plan.

Or maybe she'll be so tired, she'll go on vacation.

And so, I'll do what I do when I'm uninspired: post someone else's writing. (Thanks, Grandma.)

SPV of the day. . .

aka, Small Personal Victory: "I know if I give something to you, you will do it right!"

Te he.