Earthquake!

So, this last Tuesday, Southern California had its first sizable earthquake in quite some time. A 5.4 quake hit Chino Hills, about 28 miles southeast of downtown LA.

Wouldn't you know it, me, the earthquake baby (the 1971 Sylmar earthquake started mom's labor with me) didn't even feel it! I mean, when the 1994 Northridge quake hit, I was visiting LA for the first time in years since moving away to go to school. (I'd come to town for mom's birthday, actually; we're just a 'natural disaster' birthday family, I guess.)

Everyone has their earthquake stories, though, and our family's were relatively amusing. My husband was on the phone with a client who was having some problem with his computer. He asked the client what he'd done to try to fix the problem himself, and the response was, "Earthquake!" The client was about 10 miles east or so of us, so the quake hit him first. They stayed on the phone for 10 seconds or so (my husband was watching the atomic clock on his computer screen) before they mutually agreed that they should get off the phone and take cover.

Have you ever seen the movie "LA Story" with Steve Martin? There's a scene where they're at a restaurant and an earthquake hits. No one gets up from the table, they all just look around and take guesses at how strong it is. A couple's table shakes by them - the couple eating and drinking as if nothing unusual is happening. While that's taking things to the extreme, it's actually not very far from the truth. Those of us who have ridden out several earthquakes in our lives aren't quite that blase about it, but will often wait to gauge the strength of a quake in order to determine if preventative measures need to be taken to insure our safety.

At the 30 second mark (remember - atomic clock on the computer screen), my husband finally decided that he'd better stand in the doorway. Early on in our marriage, an earthquake hit one Sunday morning while we were still in bed. My mom had trained me well, and I jumped up out of bed and braced myself in the door frame. My husband just watched me from the bed, as I shouted at him to move. He had apparently judged that that particular earthquake didn't call for movement on his part. Sure enough, it wasn't very big, it ended as quickly as it had come, and my husband went back to sleep. Now that I think about it, this happened a couple of other times at our homes in Reno and back down here in LA - he just rode them out. So for this quake to actually spur him to movement meant it was pretty big.

My son was at summer school. No, he didn't need remedial studies; he's taking Theater Arts Workshop. So he and his class were doing a run-through of their play - "The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee." Their first indication of the impending quake was the large bay doors rattling. Their teacher - who was watching from the audience - then shouted to the kids to get off the bleachers upon which the 'spellers' were sitting. My son decided to dive under the bleachers, not thinking of the gear swaying over the stage (and his head.) He was well-protected, though. His character happens to have a habit of falling off the bleachers, so he wears a bike helmet on occasion. They'd already passed the point in the run-through where he put on his helmet, so at least his head was covered. He was the last one off the stage - much to his teacher's chagrin - but he did pass through the quake, shaken but unscathed.

However my daughter and I were completely unaware that it had even occurred. I'd just picked her up from acting class (yes, my kids love to act), and was driving her home. In fact, we'd just passed the high school where my son was when it hit. I dropped her off at home and headed out to my massage therapy session. The first I heard of it was when I was on the table and my therapist was asking how I'd handled the quake. Puzzled, I asked her what she was talking about. Apparently, it was severe enough to send the chiropractor, the therapist, and the rest of the staff and patients scurrying outside the building.

All I could say was that I was grateful it had occurred when it did . As it was, I hadn't felt it, and so without my adrenaline pumping, I was able to relax and 'enjoy' my (at times, very painful) massage. If it had struck just 15 minutes later, I would have been on the table, disrobed, and then abandoned by my therapist! I think that therapy session would have been a wash!

Perspective

I was looking around the web this morning, and I realized I hadn't visited the "yeah, Dave yoga" blog in a while.

There I found a post about dealing with tragedy. He was talking about how he dealt with his own emotions about his daily life in relation to huge tragedies like the earthquake in China. When considering your daily stresses like paying the mortgage or doing your job, it pales in comparison with the emotional grief people experience in true tragedies. What got me was the kicker closing paragraphs:

Be nicer, more generous. Love fully, without hesitation. Breathe deeply, slow down.

Human beings are like fragile little ants beneath the furious footsteps we call cyclones and earthquakes. But don't be scared to die. "Everyone dies. Not everyone really lives."

Kinda helps put things into perspective, don't you think? Not only do we need to remember to not be scared to die, but we need to be unafraid of being hurt - much more common occurrence in our daily lives. I need to remember to love fully, without hesitation; I can't allow my experiences to jade me so that I lose that part of myself. Because if I did that, I wouldn't be really living, honoring the core of who I really am - a loving, generous, vivacious, caring person. If others can't truly cherish or appreciate that (or can't reciprocate), it doesn't mean I should stop being who I really am. I must really live my life, without hesitation, without being jaded. If I'm not true to myself, then I'm not really living.

So keep your chin up, smell those daisies, and find those silver linings. Smile, put a twinkle in your eye and a spring in your step. Slow down, breathe deeply. Take in your surroundings and acknowledge the people you brush by throughout the day. Give someone a complement and lift their spirits. We are fantabulous! We are Glamour Pi forever!

Reunion!

This weekend I attended my 20 year high school reunion. I'd gone to my 10 year, and it had been OK, so I was hoping the 20 year would be as good. I was a bit wary, though, as I'd taken a friend with me for the 10 year, and this time I was going stag. (Extrovert marries introvert, proving opposites attract!) I have to give all of the 'significant others' who attended my complements, though, especially if they didn't attend the school. What a fun way to spend the evening - with a bunch of people you've never met before!

Since I'd been to the 10 year, I knew more or less what to expect. You check in, you get your picture taken for the memory book they'll charge you an arm and a leg for later, and then you hit the bar to get a drink and hopefully scan the room for people you recognize.

Well, I'd come prepared. Not only did I dig out my old yearbook (heaven protect us from the styles of the '80s!), but I looked on the official school alumni website as well as Classmates. Not one to do things half-way, I cross referenced the people I remembered on the list with the photos in the yearbook, and vice versa. So I felt pretty well prepared to remember who was who - provided, of course, that people looked anything like they had in high school!

Unfortunately, this year, new arrivals had to 'run the gambit'. After checking in, you had your picture taken for the memory book. But instead of going into another room where it was just you, the photographer, his assistant and anyone else waiting to be photographed, this year the backdrop was set up right next to the registration table in the main hallway of the hotel! So you get there, it's a new situation, you're feeling awkward, and you have to have your picture taken in front of a bunch of strangers! Give me a break!

Well, I got myself set up in my most flattering pose and the photographer gets off a shot. Then he (loudly) tells me to 'work it!' Really?!? I mean, I only have so many poses. It's not like I took modeling classes. Wait a minute! My daughter is taking those right now, and last week when we were trying to pick out a dress for me to wear, she'd shown me what she'd learned. Whew! So quickly scrambling for another pose or two, I move around so the photographer can get off a couple more shots. Then mercifully it's over and the next victim steps up to the camera.

Talk about Kismet! As I'm stuffing my receipts, etc., back into my purse, I happen to look up at the 'new guy'. Hey! I know him! We were on the school paper together! His photo session was mercifully short (no 'work it' yelled to him - I wonder why?) I re-introduce myself and we're off for the evening. Turns out his very pregnant wife sent him out alone, so I have a fellow married person to hang with.

What was amazing to me was realizing the dichotomy of people. Obviously we'd all changed a lot in 20 years, but by the same token, we all had stayed the same! My newspaper buddy and I had spent most of 4th period journalism class yapping about anything and nothing; it was the same through dinner 20 years later. That was the case with just about everyone I spoke to - the dynamics of the relationships we had 20 years ago were still firmly in place, as if we'd just graduated yesterday. I guess I haven't changed much, either, though; while I was in the middle of some enthusiastic retelling of some story or another, I overheard an old friend explaining to someone else that I'd always been that animated.

In short, I had a blast and am so glad I went! I'm really happy with where I am now in life, but it was nice to revisit the past and have a good laugh... or two, or dozen!

Go Al! Woo Hoo!

Well, today my Glamour Pi sister, Al, participated in her first day of the San Francisco Avon Walk for Breast Cancer. I'd been talking about doing it with her, but my fibromyalgia has been flaring up off and on since January, and I felt I needed to get a few good months under my belt before taking on such a commitment.

As it turns out, I got to do some of the walk... sort of. Al was a one-woman team, walking on her own. They started the walk at 7:30 at the Golden Gate Park, walked around some of North San Fran, and then crossed the Golden Gate Bridge to do the majority of the walk in Mill Valley in Marin County. How cool is that?!? They crossed the bridge twice today! Anyway, Al is quite the walker and likes to be near the front away from the pack. So, around 12:15 today, she called my cell for some companionship. I headed out my door for a walk around the neighborhood, and wound up talking and walking with her for over an hour. I may not have been in San Fran walking next to her, but I was here in LA talking and walking as she walked there. Does that count?

I just am so darn proud of Al! She started fund raising at the beginning of June and raised the minimum to participate ($1,800) in a couple of weeks. She's been training on her own and was able to finish the 26 miles today in just about 7 hours. I was bullying her into doing yoga afterwards to keep from getting stiff, but the poor honey called me and let me know she could only do some, as she had blisters on her feet which prevented getting into many of the poses, much less holding them! What a trooper!

Tomorrow she goes for the final 17 miles. I'm looking forward to talking and walking with her again. She's such an inspiration. I really hope I can do it with her next year. I told my daughter about it, and now she says she wants to do it with us, too.

Here's to Al, a true Glamour Pi, leading by example.

Promises, Promises

I like chocolate - dark chocolate. So I'll have a Dove Promise or two (OK, or five) on the occasional evening. Not that they're especially good or anything, but they do the trick when I'm having a chocolate craving.

Anyhow, they have a 'promise' written on the inside of the foil, kind of like a fortune cookie. Al and I had a thing about them in Tahoe; we had to read the 'promise' out loud before eating the chocolate. Since she's not here to read them to, I'll save the 'promises' and then when I have a big enough collection, I to write her about them. So here's the latest batch:

You're allowed to do nothing. This is SO hard for me! And even when I do try, I often feel guilty. Why is that?

Go against the grain. Does doing the Vacation Dance in public qualify here? I think I do this, or at least I do this more now. It's rather liberating to not be embarrassed and just let go!

Learn something from everyone you meet. Good advice, unless you take it literally, then you'd take forever just to get through the supermarket.

Lose yourself in a moment. Now this I have no problem with. I love to be struck by something - a view, my kids laughter - and just pause to take it all in. I think we need to do this more often.

Get your feet massaged. Now THAT's something I can get behind! Boy, do I need a mani-pedi!

Age is nothing but a number. OK, I agree.. somewhat. I mean, I often ask who it was that decided I was the grownup - or at least grown up enough to have kids! I don't feel old.

Listen to your heartbeat and dance. New mom's do this all the time. It's called the 'mommy sway' and it's instinctual. Put a baby or toddler in any mothers arms and she'll start swaying. I actually like it. It's very comforting.

Be mischievous. It feels good. Yeah, it does at times
This pairs well with another:
Smile, people will think you're up to something. And that can be very intriguing to some!
It also can go with this:
Wink at someone driving past today. That can be fun, too! As long as you use discretion and don't wind up with some stalker...

Make your eyes twinkle. I love to have the excuse or reason to do this! Talk about getting looks!

Flirting is mandatory. Thank goodness, or else I'd be branded with a big F! I think I'm just being friendly (or gregarious), but I've been told it can be perceived as flirting. It's just part of my nature, it seems!

Follow your instincts. NOT the 2% of doubt in your gut, but your instincts. Now, if I could just learn to keep these things separate, I should be OK.

Be fearless. Easier said than done at times, but good advice, nonetheless - remember, that's one word!

Discover yourself. I think this one is very important. I mean, how often do we find ourselves lost in some role or set of expectations we've foisted on ourselves? You know, the role of parent, child, friend, etc., when we don't feel like we're being our true selves. Dangerous stuff, that. Something I'm trying to break free of.

Live your dreams. Hmmm. Good advice, but difficult to follow. I'm working on that one, actually. It's the figuring out the dream part that can be tough, though.

If they can do it, you know you can. Also good to remember.

Make 'someday' today. I think I've been embracing this one a lot. Talk Like A Pirate Day, Trick-or-Treating, etc. You never know what opportunities are going to come your way again, so you'd better seize them when you have the chance.

Go to your special place. Yes, when I need to relax, I definitely do this. Yoga, Tahoe or Disneyland...

Remember your first everything. Oh, I think I do that well enough. I've been accused of having an encyclopedic memory at times.

Sometimes one smile means more than a dozen roses. Especially if it's from the right person.

Love without rules. Very important, as sometimes our rules can seem completely arbitrary to the ones we love.

Smile before bed. You'll sleep better. Really? You think? But who is going to put that smile there??

Whisper in the dark. I do this all the time. You just can't share a bed or a room with someone and not talk after the lights go out. It's just weird not to. "Good night, Johnboy!"

Naughty can be nice. Oh yeah!

Woo Hoo! That's it! Now I don't have to dust around the little red foils any more! Hope you liked these little tidbits of chocolate advice. As my son would say, "I like chocolate milk!" Well, not so much the 'milk' part for me.

LA Sight Seeing

I went to the grocery store the other day and was talking to Al on the phone as I shopped. It's obnoxious, I know, but as a working mom, you take the moments to catch up with friends whenever you can get them.

As I was walking around the store, I caught sight of this one woman and could not help but start chuckling. Being in the Valley, you often run into people who are in the movie industry or rather, the other movie industry. Sometimes, like today, I wonder if it isn't a place for ladies from the latter to retire when they're 'past the working age.'

Anyhow, this woman was one of them. It was obvious by the state of her skin that she was of retirement age. Definitely in her 40's at least. However, it was her apparel (and what was under it) which caught my eye - and the eye of every other person in the place. Normally, women's t-shirts have a variety of different cuts. There's the classic crew-neck, boat-neck, scoop-neck, or v-neck. I found a new classification: v-boob. This woman was wearing a shirt under which most women would wear a tank. However, she opted out on that, and, as a result of the missing tank and her 'bodacious ta-ta's' (as dad would say), I was seeing far more of her cleavage than I even see of my own!

However, that was nothing new. You see that all the time around here. What cracked me up (sorry for the pun) was the rear-view. A couple of years back, the trend was for velor sweat-pants, some of which were sold ultra-low rise. This femme was wearing such low-rise low-rises that not only did her shirt sit above her waistline so she could show off her tramp stamp, but her pants showed a fair amount of coin slot - without her bending over! So she had cleavage coming and going!

I don't know why that particular sight amused me so much, but it did. I laughed and laughed to Al! I was so thankful that I should come across such a sight when I could share it with a friend who could appreciate it as much as I did!

But the kicker was after I hung up the phone and went to check out. The lady-in-question was in line in front of me. However, there was a cute young couple between us - husband and wife. He was doing the most amazing job of NOT looking at 'the lady in black' that I wanted to give him a high-five! Now, his wife was lovely; tall, thin, not an ounce of fat on her, shapely, blonde, etc. But upstairs, she was built like a surfboard next to this other woman. The guy came up with what I thought was a great way to keep from looking; he stood between the woman and his wife. This meant he had his back to the woman while he talked with his wife, which also meant his wife would be the one to get distracted and sneak peeks instead of him. Kudos!!

I do have to say that 'the lady in black' was obviously comfortable in her own skin. She'd made a considerable investment in her physique, and was comfortable and confident about showing it off. Good for her!

Beautiful from the inside out*

I wanted to take a little time to clarify the Glamour Pi motto: Beautiful from the inside out!*
*...which includes our underwear!

I realized that to some, that may sound completely superficial. In fact, it's meant to be just the opposite. What we're really focusing on is not just what people see - everything from our exterior to our personalities - but that which is not seen - from our underwear to the very core of our beings. That may sound like a tall order, but when we focus on improving our attitudes and perceptions about the world and our place in it, we can transform all of those negative (or ugly) nuggets into more positive (beautiful) thoughts and feelings.

An example of this is the television show "How to look good...Naked!" on Lifetime. It turns out that's the show I saw being taped when I went to the 3rd Street Promenade in Santa Monica with my niece and sister last August. During that evening, I pointed out the guy Carson from "Queer Eye". Also, when I watched my first episode, I found out why we had seen a picture of a nearly-naked woman (without a head) being projected up onto the side of a building - it's part of the show!

Anyway, I don't know if you've already caught it or not (especially since I recently saw a promo for an episode of Oprah where she was having Carson as her guest), but I highly recommend it. In it, Carson takes a 'real woman' (meaning, someone who is definitely not model thin, but who also has body image issues) and spends 5 days to help them feel better about themselves. It has a wonderful message that I totally get behind. He starts the show by saying:

Hello Ladies! I'm here to begin a perception revolution! Join me if you think that beauty extends beyond a size zero. Come along with me if you don't want to be like four out of five women who hate their bodies. Unite if you're ready to turn body loathing into body loving. It's time to start shedding those layers, because I don't want you to just accept what you see in the mirror. I don't want you to just like what you see in the mirror. I want you to flaunt it... Naked!!

The central concept is simple: take women's negative perceptions of themselves, have them look at themselves realistically, and then help them feel comfortable in the skin that they're in. Being a stylist, of course he helps them with clothing choices, but he's not pushing diet, exercising or lifestyle choices. It's all about becoming comfortable, happy and confident with what you have. He spends a good deal of time getting the right foundation (bras & panties) for them, saying that it's important to feel confident in how you feel in your underwear, because everything that goes on top will look so much better because they've perfected her shape with the right foundation. (Not to mention that if you feel good in your underwear, not to mention your clothes, you exude confidence, which is sexy!) I've been trying to explain this concept for years, and it's the reason I say 'beautiful from the inside out' - not just in personality, but in clothing, too.

From the episodes I've seen, I think it's a great show with a fantastic message. And I definitely think it's a message we need to be communicating to our teen/tween daughters. Not everybody is going to look like the models in the magazines - including the models, thanks to airbrushing. But we're all beautiful.