Happy Little Trees

I was on vacation last week. I could live freely and roam the earth if I wanted. There was no such thing as an alarm clock or traffic. But today, I'm back.

As of last week, I canceled my Texas Medical Center parking. So now I get to have fantastic adventures on the bus again. But I will also be saving $140 a month! Suze Orman would be so proud of me! I've missed some of my old bus buddies. I would try to wave at them from my car when I drove by, but they would only have their eyes on the prize (the next bus). Bus riders don't usually associate with car drivers. They don't mix.

I call my morning bus driver, Moses. He looks like an African-American Moses with a big bushy, black beard that is sporting a few crazy grays. As he takes us on the same route every morning, ushering the same people around, he's like Moses leading the Israelites on the same trail. Day after day. I really hope I won't be riding that bus 40 years from now. All I know is that the med center isn't the Promise Land.

Maybe one day he'll take us to McDonald's instead. It would be like the old days in high school when the bus driver would surprise us after an away game, and we'd stop to eat. The whole bus would cheer. If we stopped, some people would probably get upset that about missing work. I think I'd be cheering.

The more I think about how we are what we eat, the more it makes sense. Our bodies replenish themselves with food. My sister explained to me how transfatty acids change the composition of our cell walls. It's pretty scary.

I'm a little bit broke right now, so today I am a chicken fajita hotpocket. I wish I was grilled salmon with a nice veggie soup on the side and a bowl of strawberries.

I think that Bravo is one of my favorite cable TV networks. I wish I could make up my own network, and it would just show my favorite shows. Oh yeah, I guess that's the purpose of TiVo.

The Actor's Studio totally engrosses me. I believe it offers the most authentic interview with actors that can happen. Strange details of their lives are uncovered. Today, on the 200th episode, the host, James Lipton, had Dustin Hoffman crying by card 8. Hoffman accused Lipton of being Barbara Walters. It was completely fabulous to see an actor without a mask or a character to hide behind.

James Lipton is just completely hilarious. "If there is a heaven, what would you say to St. Peter?" "What's your favorite word?" He asks the same questions to about everybody. I wonder how it makes the actor feel. The interview just isn't about a current project, but about the road of his/her life.

I kind of wish I could be on the show. Although it seems a little intimidating because it would be like a therapy session in front of an audience that is broadcast out into the millions of homes that make up TV land. And I do believe there is a heaven, but I don't believe it's about what I say when I get there. And I don't really have a favorite word. Maybe "love" or something like "esophogogastroduodenoscopy".

Sometimes I have a tendency to laugh way too loud. I picked it up from my friend, Felicia, twelve years ago. She had the greatest laugh and somehow it was contagious. When something was funny, my whole body started to feel it. But it's not really a laugh, it's almost like a laugh backed up with the force of a sneeze because of its inability to be controlled.

Tonight at dinner, I thought Linda said, "Yes, these charms represent my dog. Bingo was his name."

This noise came out of me that said, "HA!" and then hit the opposite wall of the restaurant and bounced back. Linda looked startled. Because actually she hadn't said "Bingo was his name [O]."
The dog's name was Beako. [I know I'm spelling it wrong.]

In movies, my brain will process a joke about half a second before other people by anticipating the punch line. This creates a scenario in which sometimes my laugh is first, but then no one notices because the timing is so close. It creates another scenario in which my laugh is first, and then there are no more laughs because the joke did not go as relayed to me by my brain, so I am left embarrassed and trying to avoid stares and comments such as, "That wasn't funny."

Whatever the case, I love to laugh, "Ha! Ha! Ha!"

I have lost my mind. Perhaps that's what LOST the t.v. show is about. It's about someone losing their mind. The last episode will probably be Jack waking up in the hospital and everything was just a dream, but then Hurley is his orderly or something. I read a Dean Koontz novel that ended that way. It's such a cop out when writer's do that. It has to be one of the worst writing techniques in history.

Back to my my lost mind. I applied for a job online. Because I feel like I work for the secret service, I'm scared that I'm going to get found out. I'm excited about the possibility of a new job. But on most days, I like my old job just fine. I could just use some more dough to make biscuits and pay bills.

My boyfriend, Jonathan, gave me good counsel tonight. His new job is as an enrollment counselor, so I'm trying to give him lots of practice by having to counsel me all the time. He does a really great job. He's very encouraging. So encouraging, that I feel capable and deserving of this new job. And I even did my resume and online application with ease and confidence. Props to Jonathan for being his normal wonderful self. --I hope that wasn't too mush for the rest of you. If so, no worries, I'm too tired to add more right now.

Here's to hope for the future and praise for the present!

Do you ever dream about the perfect job? I wonder what the statistics say about people who are truly happy in their work. You know, the people that say, "My job is so fabulous I would do it for free!"

I don't know what a perfect job for me would be. I think I was asked that question once on a job application which seemed pretty bizarre. Was the correct answer, "This job."? Because I didn't respond that way. And I also didn't get the job.

I used to be a teacher. Maybe my blog should just be for ex-teachers. I've been trying to figure out how to focus my blog because I think those are the blogs that get the most view-time. If a blog was just about me, it would be really cool for me, but maybe not note-worthy to anyone else. And I have a million friends already who have blogs that are fun to read. Why add mine to the list?

I feel like the ex-teacher issue needs a voice. There's a ton of us out there. Teachers and nurses are most likely to leave their professions. Because they are both tough jobs. They both draw in people who want to help. When you're finally trained and ready to help, you find out the people you want to help aren't using words like "please" and "thank you", but more like, "You're mean!" and "Get away from me!"

Maybe I could have a separate blog just for ex-teachers. That's what I'll do. Be on the lookout for it. It's my satellite blog and it's going to be famous.

Sometimes it seems like I'm always giving advice. I try to be careful with the advice I give, because it could be followed and then I'm kind of responsible for the result. I gave relationship advice tonight. And I think it was pretty good advice. A simple "don't kiss a guy with a girlfriend" suggestion.

A couple of months ago, my dear friend, Brenda, gave me relationship advice. It totally was right on the money. So I took her advice again, and the next time when I followed it, things didn't quite go as I had planned. When I told her the result, she said that after she told me what to do, she relayed the story to another friend. Her friend said, "You told her that?! Oh no!" Oh well. All things worked out in the end. And it makes quite a humorous story. Personally humorous, not ha-ha funny for you. Since I'm being vague on purpose.

I found this quote from Helen Keller today: Life is either a daring adventure, or nothing. I like that quote a lot. Especially when I know that it came from Helen Keller. But that still doesn't mean I'm giving my friend the green light to kiss the guy with a girlfriend! That's not a daring adventure, that's a death wish or at least a wish for slashed tires and a keyed car.

First, the vow.

I, Beth, take you, Happy Little Trees, as my blog. I promise to not get involved with Myspace. I promise to blog when I can, but not all the time. I promise not to let my blogging interfere with friendships, relationships, or plans for my life. I promise to maintain my personal journal, so my blog does not get too personal. I promise not to spend workhours blogging, but maybe a lunch break or two, and time that would have been devoted to smoking if I was a smoker.

Let the blog begin!