Everyone Has a Story

I have a fascination with people.   

Allow me to explain.

I love to look in to peoples eyes, see the expressions on their faces, the lines etched in their face, the shape of their mouth  and watch their actions, gestures and demeanor.

Why?  Because I like to wonder and  imagine what they are about.  What made them be the person that I see?

The lady walking across the Wal-Mart parking lot today - the threadbare clothing, unkept  gray hair and the eyes that showed such sorrow as they stared down at the ground while she walked with such laborious steps.  Was she in pain?  Had she been in an accident that made her walk so gingerly?  Was she poor and couldn't afford nicer clothing or just didn't take the time to dress just to go to the store.  And what made her eyes so solemn?

The young man in IDK Bar and Grill who was eating a pizza and watching football - all by himself.   He didn't smile, he didn't talk to anyone.  He was alone.  Was he new in town and hadn't had a chance to make close friends? Perhaps a stranger traveling through town?  Or maybe he wanted to be alone - his time to decompress and enjoy afternoon of his own company.

To the young woman talking rather loudly on her cell phone to someone in a most heated voice.  Her eyes were on fire, he hands clenched in a fist and her voice almost at decibel 10.  Her level of frustration was evident - but what caused it and to whom was it directed?  A love, a child, a friend?  Was it a misunderstanding or was the woman asserting her authority?

The jovial cashier at Hugos who joked with each customer she checked out through her line.  Was she having a good day today, better than normal?  Or is this her typical demeanor?  Is she married, have children, had she just gotten good news?  Was this her last shift before having a couple days off or did she truly love her job?

I watch people and I wonder what their story is.  I saw  a snipit of their life but that glimpse was enough to intrigue me and make me think about what their life was about. 

Frustration

Today my level of frustration hit a level that it hadn't seen in a very long time.  It was quite disconcerting.

I hold myself to a higher standard.  If there is work to be done, I do it.  If I do not know the answer, I try and find it myself before relying on others.  I do not push my work off on others.  It's how I roll.  And it frustrates me when I see people doing the very thing that I do not.

Maybe  I have too high of a standard for people.  Maybe that's not it at all.  Maybe they have to low of a standard for themselves.  If so, how sad.

I had a couple of instances today where I transferred phone calls to individuals so that they could handle the matter - it was their job and they had the authority to make the decision that needed to be made.  One individual told me, "you go ahead and take care of it."    Huh?  While I appreciate the vote of confidence, it really isn't in my pay grade to "take care of it."   I was quite blunt, and made that very statement and hung up the phone.

The second instance was somewhat similar but the other person on the end of the line actually asked me "how do I do that?"

I'm all for doing my duty as support personnel, but do not ask me to do your job for you.

Consider where I work, where we work.  We need to be on top of our game at all times.  If we aren't, someone could be hurt or killed; hopefully not staff.  

We have people who have little regard for others.  Maybe it's because of where we work - we've become de-sensitized and treat fellow employees as if they were our clientele.

I don't know what the answer is or what the true heart of the problem is.  I just know that today this "attitude" or lack thereof, caught me hard.  

Some people are perfectly happy putting in their "time".  They don't do anything more than is basically necessary - in essence, collecting a paycheck.   Those are the ones that - when policy and procedure is circumvented because they're too freaking lazy - will get someone hurt or killed. 

I was so frustrated I wanted to scream! 

Instead, I went to the gym and sweat it out - far more productive and I didn't hurt anyone. 

I hope tomorrow is a better day.

Heart - Will You Be There In The Morning (Music Video) WIDESCREEN 1080p

I've always loved the music of Heart - and this is perhaps one of the songs that I like the most, right next to Dog and Butterfly.    I was feeling a bit nostalgic tonight and looked up this song on You Tube.  The video is definitely a flashback :)

Enjoy :)

Autumn

As much as I enjoy tank tops, flip flops, driving with the sunroof open and feeling the sunshine on my skin, the call of Autumn lures me in to its embrace and I smile.

It's Mother Nature way of  telling me, "time to downshift Sherry and take it a little slower"

After doing some yoga this morning, I decided to sit outside with my coffee and enjoy the sounds and sites of fall.  I heard the honk of geese flying over, the chirping of crickets, the rustle of the breeze in the trees and felt the chill in the air - hoodie weather is here, or close at least. 

I treasure mornings like this. 

 I love summer but I absolutely adore fall.  It brings memories of dad chopping corn, burning ditches (I LOVE that smell), fall food (pumpkin pie, pigs in a blanket, scalloped potatoes, chili), dad butchering hogs or beef, mom butchering chickens, popcorn and hot chocolate.

Life seems simpler in the fall.  I don't know why, it just does.  

So while I'm enjoying the remnants of summer, I'm digging out the hoodies and looking forward to the cooler weather, the honking geese, the smoke from burning ditches and fall food, and a slightly slower paced life. 

Kellie Pickler - Someone Somewhere Tonight (Official Video)

I saw this video on CMT the other night and it took my breath away.  It's a beautiful song, sung by a beautiful lady.  It's combined with poetic, graceful dancing. 

I hope you enjoy it as much as I did. 

Another One Gone

I haven't had a chance to blog about the loss of yet another trainer.  Jarrad Bard - trainer #9 - gave me my last session with him on Friday.   We started out smiling and laughing and he certainly didn't give me a break just because it was our last session.   But as the session was ending, the emotions we had were surfacing.

Some people would criticize me for getting attached to a trainer.  I mean, he's just there to push me through exercise, right?  Wrong.

Trainers are there to encourage and challenge, to tap in to the psyche and find out what makes their client tick so that they can get the most out of them.   Jarrad  figured it out. I'm competitive (with myself) and  I like to be challenged.   And he used that information to give me the best training sessions I've ever had (and I've had quite a few).

While he figured out what made me tick, so that he could challenge me, I let him in to my life  and my head.  I told him about feeling the effects of menopause on my body and mentality.  I told him about working in a prison,  relayed stories about my yoga classes, shared my frustrations about weight and dieting, my thoughts about aging, my medical concerns,  shared my philosophy of life,  let him see the  frustration with myself when I couldn't "get" an exercise, laughed with him and joked with him.  He encouraged me.

He was more than a trainer to me.  He became my friend. 

He's gone to Colorado with his bride.  On Friday he told me that he is going to pursue training there and perhaps go back to school for physical therapy.  I'm glad.  I told him that he has a gift that needs to be used.  His dedication to his clients and his genuine concern for their wellbeing is priceless.

Today I received a txt message from him asking if he could use me as a reference.  Absodamnlutely!!

So now I'm going to have a new trainer.  Number 10.  I doubt I'll have the same connection with him that I did with Jarrad; that connection was priceless.   I'll keep an open mind, I'll learn from him and I'll continue to give 110% in the training sessions.

 But it still won't be the same - it won't be Jarrad.

I Remember

This weekend was a reunion of the college fraternity - Sigma Nu - and it's sister organization - Sisters of the White Star.   We've been planning the reunion since January; the excitement and anticipation built until the weekend finally arrived. 

Although the numbers were smaller than had been anticipated and desired, the group of people that attended were absolutely wonderful.   Many attended school and had  gone by the time I arrived in 1980 - but that didn't make a difference.   I made new friends and developed bonds that will be  treasured for years to come.

We started out with a mixer at Tavern 94.  I have never laughed so much in my life!  Donna M., brought a tote bag full of photo albums and yearbooks for everyone to look through and that's when the questions started.

• "Oh, I remember him/her!  Where is he/her  now?"
• "Do you remember when we used to _____ ______ ___ (fill in the blanks)"?
• "Was I there when that happened?"
• "How come I don't remember when that happened?"
• "What year did you leave (were you in, out, etc.)?"
• "What is the name of the guy/girl that  _____ _____ _____ (fill in the blanks)"?
• "Were you at the party when '_______' did '________'?

We ate and drank, laughed, reminisced and just enjoyed being together.  We also discovered that we're not as young as we used to be.  Times used to be we would close down the bar and then find a place to party till the wee hours of the day.  That night we left at midnight and went to bed.  LOL

Saturday found me and two of the fraternity brothers Duane and Dean taking a hike out to Old 26 crossing.   Back "in the day", when a bunch of us would get together every summer for a campout, that is where we'd go.  I don't know how many years we camped...10 maybe?  We stopped when lives started getting busy; everyone going their own direction with work, careers, family.  But while we were there, we planted a tree to signify our roots and our connection to each other.  It is that tree that we were searching for.  Since the site has been abandoned, it took us a while, be we did find it!  (I think. LOL)

From there, on to  City Park to greet the brothers and sisters in attendance and then Road Rally.

Times there, too, have changed.  In years past, road rally was run started with everyone running down the Robertson Hill to their cars, heading out to the first clue and break-neck speed, often accompanied by alcohol or other substances.   This particular road rally of far tamer.  lol    There was no running to the cars...walking was the order of the day, we all buckled our seatbelts, obeyed the speed limit and there was no spirits.  lol.    And as one of my team stated, "the clues seem hard...maybe it's because we're all sober!"

We finished the night at The Bridges, which was attached to my motel, so I didn't have too far to travel back to my room at midnight.  

Tonight I'm in recovery mode - although I'm still drinking a Chelada..and enjoying the fact that I do not have to work tomorrow. 

This is my Sisters jacket and next to the rose is my "Sweetheart pin"