Are you brave?

I came across this article this morning:

What's the bravest thing you've ever done?

It's really a question posed by Real Simple, with its readers answering, and it got me thinking about how I might answer it. And honestly, I couldn't come up with anything.

I've never considered myself a brave person. It's not that I'm un-brave, I just don't think I do anything that takes real bravery. Sure, I drive on 880 in the Bay Area every day, and some would say that makes me brave. Some would say that moving to California by myself was brave. Some would say that just living here makes me brave, but when I read some of these answers, I knew I had nothing on these people.

...sold everything and moved to a new opportunity in Hawaii.

...left my first husband.

...skydive.

...zip-lining.

...get out of the World Trade Center alive on 9/11/01.

These things took REAL bravery. I can't honestly say I've done anything even close to them, and now I'm wondering if I've missed out on amazing opportunities. I'm certainly blessed to not have to sell everything and find a new opportunity, but what if the blessing is in the selling and exploring? How does the person feel that got out of the WTC all those years ago? Do they feel blessed? How many friends did they lose that day? I've had more than one friend leave a spouse, and they certainly displayed a lot of bravery in doing so. I'm pretty sure you couldn't pay me enough to skydive or zip-line, but if someone ever got me to do one of those things, I might be able to answer this question more adequately. 

But then I started thinking that maybe being brave isn't about doing something spectacular or life-changing. Maybe it's about just being alive and taking small chances here and there, not just sitting at home like a slug. Maybe it's as simple as saying hello to someone on the street that you don't know, buying breakfast for a homeless person, sitting next to someone on the train when there's an empty seat across the way or simply smiling at a cute boy across the room. I'm not saying I've done all of these things, but aren't these a tiny slice of bravery too?

Webster's defines brave as "having or showing courage", and I think there are a lot of ways that we all do this every day. It takes courage some days to just get out of bed and move. It takes courage to tell someone you love them; even more to tell them that you don't. It takes courage to tell someone you'll miss them when they're gone and even more to survive the days after they leave. And yeah, I guess it does take courage to get behind the wheel every day and face the crazy drivers on the road.

So, at the end of my discussions with myself, I guess I've realized that I'm actually a lot braver than I originally thought.

Who knew the doctor's office and pharmacy could be so entertaining?

While in San Francisco this week I was lucky enough to get my standard conference cold. Oh, the joy. Thankfully, my doctor was able to see me this afternoon and prescribe antibiotics and Codeine cough syrup. I'm definitely looking forward to sleeping through the night and getting exponentially better very soon. But of course, you know that's not why I'm writing...you know that nothing about me going to the doctor and the pharmacy could be that boring...

So, in a very unlike me fashion, I was 3 minutes late to the doctor's office and feeling a bit frantic in addition to dizzy and coughy and just basically icky. There were a few people in the office, and I began to write my name on the sign-in list as the nurse behind the counter talked loudly on the phone. While I was writing, she closed the glass causing a vase to fall - which I caught quickly. Clearly she closed the glass so no one could hear her call, but really, have you SEEN those glass windows? First of all, they don't completely close, and second of all, you can still hear everything a person is saying behind them. In this case, we heard the following:

"Scrotum? That's the name of the medicine? I've never heard of that. OH! No, I know what it is. [laughter] I thought you meant that was the name of the medicine. Okay..."

Others in the waiting room snickered, as did I, and then the conversation continued after she hung up...this little gem was offered to her fellow nurse or office worker:

"[laughter] Of course I know what a scrotum is. I've seen my husband's. And my dog's."

Seriously. I could NOT make this up. And yeah, I never expected to type that word once, much less twice...

While I continued to wait, I, and everyone else in the waiting room, got to hear a doctor basically ream out the same nurse for not calling on something. I felt really bad for her. I mean, we all make mistakes, but geez, it was completely unprofessional for this guy to be telling her about it when we could clearly all hear.

Finally, I got into the doctor's office and got my prescriptions, nothing extraordinary there, and then as I was leaving overheard the following:

"Okay, so you'll need to pee in the cup..."

I mean, is there no privacy in this place? Goodness.

I journeyed to the pharmacy where I turned in my prescriptions and waited. That's when I heard a song by The Outfield. Oh yes. The Outfield. 

Remember this one?

Wow. That took me WAY back. I strolled around the store as I listened then made my way back to the pharmacy to wait for my prescriptions. That's when the possibly inebriated, slightly scary man showed up. I'm not clear if he knew the guy behind the counter or not, but he walked up and did the fist bump thing with him, including saying "boom" and opening his hand after the bump. Wow. Then he proceeded to tell the guy his doctor had sent him an email telling him he'd taken care of everything as far as getting a prescription filled. Seemed normal enough, but the CVS guy couldn't find anything in the system, and the guy started to get agitated. He was seriously freaking out that the meds weren't there, and the poor guy told him he could call the doctor...even suggested that maybe they sent the prescription to another pharmacy. The guy was adamant that that just wasn't possible. The conversation went back and forth for five minutes or more until the poor CVS guy said he'd send the office a fax and see if they had any information. As the guy was ready to walk away he was muttering..."Yeah, it's supposed to be 90...it's gettin' bad..."

Special.

I finally got my meds and while waiting for the pharmacy consult, the gal who'd taken my info to start with turned to me and asked if I went to Westgate Church. Wow. Small tiny world.

By the time I got back to the car, I was exhausted from all the adventure and made my way home after getting some food. Now I'm full of chicken, taters and antibiotics and more than ready to get this day over with. I can only imagine what might happen tomorrow...

Happy Birthday Mr. Hawkins

In April of this year, when I was visiting my dear friend Tasha in Chicago, I got into a conversation with another friend, Mr. Hawkins, about my lack of passport ownership. Mr. Hawkins, being an actual world traveler couldn't believe I didn't have one and began his campaign to make me get one. I laughed. Ha ha. Very funny. Aren't you cute? Here's what happened next:

Ha ha. Very funny. Then:

Sucking Tasha into the campaign was just plain dirty. 

Uh huh. Okay. As Tasha's wedding celebration approached, I got this little gem:

Then it just went all crazy (read from the bottom of this one up):

So now there's the birthday threat...

and the throwing of the "go to London" gauntlet.

DIRTY POOL MY FRIENDS!!! 

And finally, in response to me saying something nice about Coldplay:

So.

Without further ado.

And just for you Mr. Hawkins.

On the day before your birthday.

And a little for you Ms. Alexander.

Here's what happened this afternoon:

I took something from here:

And something from here:

Completed this:

Signed my name in front of a witness...wrote a check...and got this confirmation:

And, in 4-6 weeks, I should get this:

Happy now?

Where were you?

I remember getting ready for work that morning, watching TV as I always did in the morning and the news breaking in to say a plane had hit one of the towers. I remember watching the footage and hearing the newscasters speculate as to how a plane might have done that. I remember not thinking much about it at all. And then I remember watching the second plane hit the other tower and realizing, along with the rest of the country, that something was very wrong. 

As I drove to work, I listened to the continuing news and felt a pit forming in my stomach. By the time I got to work I was completely unfocused. I remember seeing my boss in his office...he hadn't heard about it. I got into my office and put the CNN feed on my computer and learned about the attack at the Pentagon and the crash in Pennsylvania. And then I saw the towers start to fall and was completely stunned. People were starting to arrive at work by that time and everyone was in a bit of a daze.

Around noon, we were sent home, and I remember not wanting to go and actually arguing with my boss about it. He said I didn't have a choice so I reluctantly left. At that time they were very concerned about other targets, one of which was the Transamerica Building in San Francisco, just an hour north of us. They were also concerned about other airports and I guess they thought people wouldn't be able to work anyway, so it made sense to just send us all home.

I remember wondering what the next few days might be like and if there might be another attack closer to us. I went to the grocery store, and it was a very surreal experience. I felt like I should have food in case there was another attack. I talked to my parents while I was in the store, but I don't really remember much of the conversation. We were all in shock and happy we were all safe. The mood in the store was quiet, and while I can't really articulate it now, I do remember thinking it was just about the strangest thing I'd ever seen or felt.

I spent the rest of the day like most of the country did, watching the news, seeing the repeated images of the horror and then seeing the faces of the friends and families and neighbors of those who lost their lives. I'm sure none of us will soon forget the courage of the rescue personnel diving into the rubble and smoke and unknown to find life. It was the American spirit and human nature at its best, combating human nature at its worst. 

In the days and weeks that followed, as images continued to radiate from my TV screen, I was never more proud to be an American, and I was never more unnerved. It was unfathomable to me, still is, how individuals could so freely take lives. But all these years later, it is clear that what they really took, was a big chunk of our freedom. And I suppose that was their point. 

The most vivid memory I have of the terror attacks in 2001 actually came about a week after they happened. I had a meeting in Southern California and boarded a plane just a few days after they started flying again. It was a trip I'd taken many times in the past, but it was altogether different that day. The airport was eerie in its quietness, and there were very few people flying. Few words were spoken. When I boarded, the Southwest gate attended handed me a sticker that said "Thanks for flying". I got on the plane, got situated and leaned against the window where I fell asleep shortly after takeoff. What I will never forget is the feeling I got when I woke up, not far from Los Angeles.

I was overcome with emotion as we approached our destination. All I could think about was the folks on the planes that had been hijacked and what they must have thought when they realized they weren't headed in the right direction. I wondered if anyone had been sleeping and woke up and saw a tower, or the Pentagon and what they must have thought. I don't think I'll ever be that happy to see LAX again, but that day, it was the best thing I'd ever seen. As we landed, I wiped the tears from my eyes and thanked God for keeping me safe. I was wholly unprepared for that moment and will never, ever forget it. 

Since then I've flown hundreds of times and have never once felt that same emotion, I guess I never will. But even now, as I think back on that moment, I feel the tears in my eyes and am taken right back to it. 

It's clear now that nothing will ever be the same as it was prior to that day in September all those years ago. And I guess there's both good and bad in that.

(Memorable photo above by Thomas E. Franklin/The Bergen Record) 

Baseball, College Football, Hockey...what more could a girl want?

IT IS TIME!!!

These arrived at my house today, and I can't really articulate in words how excited I am for the hockey season to start. We were bitterly disappointed again last season, even though we did get further than the several years prior. We wanted more. Now, with new goalies, maybe we can get it. It feels like the Sharks are everywhere in the community these days...for some reason I think this is a sign of good things to come. I realize it makes no sense. I don't care. Seeing Sharks is good. All good.

Recent Sightings:

• Joe Pavelski in the Sharks store during the playoff run
• Patrick Marleau at dinner in Los Gatos in July
• Ryane Clowe at the same hair place a friend goes to (also in Los Gatos I believe)

And as if that weren't enough, college football kicked off last week and I was 3 for 4 on the first full Saturday of play. And honestly, I don't really feel too bad about the team that lost because they were playing the #1 ranked team in the country. Way to get 3 points SJSU!! More games are on tap this weekend and in the near future I'll get to see some of the boys play in person.

And oh by the way, way to bring it Boise State!!

There's just really nothing like college football for me. There is so much emotion tied up in it, especially when my two alma maters take the field. They can give me more heartache and joy than pretty much anything else. Let's Go Devils! Mountaineers! Cowboys! Spartans!

And lest you forget, we're in the final days of the major league baseball season and I'm finding myself hanging on every pitch on two different coasts. The Giants, as usual, are so close I can almost taste the playoff home run dog, but the gap just doesn't seem to be getting any smaller. And the Yankees never cease to cause me agita. While they are more likely to be in the playoffs than the Giants, there are no guarantees today. They don't have a magic number listed yet, and until they do, I take nothing for granted. It's fun though, and I look forward to seeing what happens in the next few weeks.

I know you thought all I did was go to concerts...well, there was only ONE of those in September, so I have to find some other way to spend my time and money. :-)