Charity of the Month: Locks of Love

Wow, I really thought I had already submitted my charity for September. Glad I checked today, I still have a few hours (on the West Coast, at least)!

I'm sure most of you know about this organization, but I'm going for it anyway. Locks of Love creates wigs for children. I always thought it was wigs for kids with cancer, but the focus of the organization is actually for children suffering from alopecia, or hair loss. Either way, hair donations go towards providing free or low cost wigs for children, who would otherwise have to suffer through the embarrassment of being bald. It's hard enough for adults to deal with that, but imagine children going to school and the endless teasing I'm sure they have to endure.

I first donated my hair about 3 years ago, and I've been wanting to cut again for quite some time now, but I was waiting to find someone I felt comfortable with, and make sure I had the funds to get it cut. Thankfully, I found Amy, who did an amazing job.

My hair is now waiting patiently in a nice plastic bag, just waiting to be shipped out to make someone happy (I hope...).

If you've got it in you, consider letting your hair grow out long enough to donate it, you won't regret it. I mean, even if you don't find someone as amazing as Amy...it grows back! (sorry, couldn't help it...)

Titles. Damn Titles.

For those who don't know me very well, I work at a small law firm where clients are constantly calling asking various questions, of various importance. Most of these questions can usually be answered by the receptionist, but I guess there's a level of comfort in hearing your questions being answered by the "attorney," even if I say the exact same thing the receptionist would say. I get it. I'm not going to lie, it makes my day a little more hectic, and sometimes I get frustrated, but I understand where they're coming from.

Here's what I don't understand, though. What makes the receptionist less of a person worthy of respect than the attorney? It's happened multiple times where the receptionist is transferring a call and she says: "sorry Alex, this guy is being a real jerk and is demanding to speak with you." Great. Deep breath. Mental preparation for the battle to come. "This is Alexandra, how can I help you?" "Oh hello Ms. Alexandra..." and continues in the sweetest, nicest tone ever. Not angry. Not upset. They just had a simple question. That the receptionist was trying to answer for them. It actually bothers me more that they're not angry: if they can be angry at the receptionist, why aren't they also angry at me? I know I have a title, but I'm not different than Amber or Nayeli, a person is a person is a person, and we each deserve the same level of respect and civility, regardless of what title we hold in life. It really irks me when people make distinctions on how they treat people, especially when they're based on a piece of paper.

I guess all I can do, personally, is make sure my kids learn better someday.

Loss and Regret

A close family friend passed away today, and it's made me think. Don Rodolfo was my aunt's father-in-law, and he was my pseudo-grandfather when I was growing up (much like his son was my pseudo-father for father-daughter occasions at school). I remember going to visit him and his wife, Dona Carmen, often when I was younger; I remember the brightly colored letter magnets on the fridge, I remember playing in his front yard, eating outside on the picnic table, I remember feeling lost every time we went to their house--no matter how many times I'd been there. Although I wasn't one of their "real" grandchildren, the distinction was never made. They always received me with open arms in their household, looked after me, and Don Rodolfo always had a joke or two up his sleeve for any occasion.

The sad and embarrassing thing is, I can't remember the last time I saw him. Dona Carmen passed away a few years ago, and I know he's had health complications since then. The thought of going to visit him always crossed my mind, but it was one of those "some day in the distant future" kind of thoughts, it was never a "let's make this happen" kind of thought. How terrible is it for a person to realize they've failed at making important things happen. I realize that I fill my life (or stuff my life) with events and activities, and the whole time I know I'm not making time for more important things: my husband, my mom, my family, close friends, my home. I sometimes wonder if maybe it's something psychological, like I have some weird issue with not keeping myself busy, or not planning ahead. I need to plan. I need to organize. But why don't I focus on planning and organizing things that really matter?

As much as we all like to think we don't have regrets ("I have no regrets, everything has been a lesson in life," or "everything happens for a reason"), I admit that I regret not making the time for a simple visit.

Mis disculpas Don Rodolfo; espero que descanse en paz.

Music Corner Wednesday

Ok, so I have to thank Virginia and German for having a facebook music conversation for this one. Creepy, right? This should serve as a reminder to you all: you never know who is reading your facebook conversations....

I know it's long, but I suggest making it through the whole thing :)

LIFE.

Jeff and I were exchanging thoughts the other day, as we often do. This particular topic was one that has interested me for quite some time, and which still baffles me. Basically, it sucks that everyone works themselves to the bone just to live. I know it's not rocket science, and that's not the part that baffles me. What baffles me is that people don't normally make their living doing what they love. Instead, they get stuck doing something they might not like, possibly even hate, and have to work 40-50-60 hours a week doing this, just to get by (obviously, I'm generalizing, there are very fortunate people who don't find themselves in this situation-I do envy them a little).

Regardless of what you do, and whether you like it or not, our society works so hard to achieve certain milestones: a new car, a home you can raise your kids in, financial security to provide your children with all the things you didn't have. (there was an interesting article on this recently, I'll try to post the link later.) I think the latter one is one that scares me the most. Jeff and I have been talking about having kids more and more often lately, and one thing that scares the bejesus out of me is the thought of not being able to provide my kids with the comforts I want to provide them with: a decent house in a safe neighborhood, camping trips, I want my kids to travel and see the world, I want them to take swimming lessons or whatever lessons they want to take, rather then telling them they can't do this or that because we can't afford it.

We work so hard to achieve these things. And here my thoughts go off in two separate directions. First, why is it so hard? Why can't we grow up and do the things we want to do with our life, and also be able to achieve our personal goals? My friend Brooke, for example, easily one of the smartest people I know. She majored in anthropology, and I know she would love to go back to grad school, maybe get her PhD and teach at a university. But she can't afford to go back to school. Jeff would love to make a living off of his art, but it takes time and financial investment, and possibly going back to school. And me. I would love to work at saving the world somehow, working for a non profit, an NGO working on international development, or just volunteering constantly. But I'd have to start by working for free somewhere to get some experience and work my way up with most organizations. I can't afford that right now. So it leaves us all working at jobs we don't like, doing something we're not passionate about, just to pay the bills. We're not even working with a house in mind, we're just working to get by. Why can't we do what we love, and make a living by it? I know people can and they do, I just wonder why we all can't.

My second direction, and this was prompted mostly by my conversation with Jeff. How did our society come to value these milestones, and how did life get so complicated? I know life was difficult back in the day because they didn't have many of the comforts and technological advances we have, but I think that also made life simpler. Brooke mentioned recently that we always feel sorry for people in developing countries living in their dirt huts, but hey, what if they're happy that way? They don't need large screen TV's, and remote-controlled everything. They just need a roof, water, food. Simple comforts. That's how we started. How did we get to where we are today? How did we come to need so much, and to desire one achievement after another? It's common knowledge that we, as people, always want more. Once we get that house, we'll want a new car. Once we get the new car, we'll want to expand the house, or buy a vacation home, or who-knows-what. It's hard to stand back and appreciate where you are in your life, and be thankful for what you have, rather than constantly looking forward to the next step, and checking the next achievement off our list. I know it's especially hard for me right now. There was a presentation I went to a couple weeks ago, and the speaker mentioned this is partly cultural: we are a forward looking culture, while others look towards the past, such as Native Americans, and some are focused on the present.

I need to learn to focus more on the present, to be happy with what I have, and to aim for the stars, but still be happy with wherever I land, since that is probably where God wants me.

Gambling Addictions...A-HA!

I've never been a gambler. I just don't see the point. I think it's mostly because I have awful luck, so gambling is another way of saying "let's throw some money in the trash." So a couple weekends ago we were in Vegas for Julian and Erika's bachelor/bachelorette party, and I guess
you can't really go to Vegas and not gamble just a little bit, so we hit up the slot machines. At this point you might be saying, "well no wonder you never win, no one wins on slot machines." I actually talked to someone last week who won $800 bucks or something on a slot machine. I still can't believe it. But anyway, I play slot machines for several reasons. 1) I'm too intimidated to play at the tables: my math is too slow for blackjack, and I'm too self conscious of looking like an idiot to play any other game, and 2) I can play a penny or a dime at a time on the slot machines: tables require a bit more of a start up investment, which I always lack.

Anyhow, before this trip I just never understand how people can loose so much money on gambling. I mean, if you notice you've just blown $200, why are you going to keep playing? I loose $20 and I start freaking out about everything I could have done with those twenty bucks, so I stop playing.

But then I saw it: we were walking by some slot machines at the New York New York, and I swear it was calling to me. So I sat down, threw in ten bucks, and started playing. I think it was a quarter machine, which is pretty high-roller-status for me. I would get pretty low on my credits, and just when I was about to lose faith, it would give me a few credits, just to keep me going. Much to Jeff and Pat's amusement, I started getting pretty into it. I mean, talking and encouraging my slot machine: "If you don't give me anything, I'm gonna lose all my money and I won't be able to play anymore (tsk, tsk)." Yep, it's true, I did it.

And it was then I could see how some addictions develop: you keep hoping the next play is gonna be it, this one is gonna be a winner, I deserve it, I've been playing all night, something's gonna give. I definitely felt that way. I still walked away after losing about ten bucks only, but I got a sense of the feeling that must overpower people that are addicted to gambling. I guess I'm just lucky I didn't have more money to lose :)