Not Your Average Gal

Copywriter. Content Creator. Constant Sassypants.

Musings

Hate Won’t Make Us Great

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My intention was to publish a post, What To Do In Havana, Cuba, but with the recent executive orders, this felt more timely.

America currently resembles a group of friends gently coaxing their inebriated buddy back to the table to prevent a fight. They’re embarrassed by his sudden, unnecessary aggression and are left walking him back to the table, raising one hand up in the air to the whole bar as if to say, “Alright! We’re alright. We know. We know. He doesn’t represent us. He’s a moron, but…*sigh*…he’s our moron.”

President Trump signed an executive order that barred refugees, migrants, legal residents and green card holders from 7 Muslim-majority countries, which in turn, triggered chaos and outrage. I won’t bore you with the statistics and facts about this unprecedented event, as that’s not what this little space of the interwebs is about.

I would like to, though, restate what I’ve alway believed in the deep, dark crevasses of my heart. Traveling can prevent fear. Fear of different religions, race and ethnicities.

I was lucky enough to grow up in Metro Detroit. Outside of the Middle East itself, Metro Detroit has one of the highest concentrations of people of Middle Eastern descent in the world. Before I even knew what Islam was, I found myself sharing pivotal life lessons as a kid and eventually as a teenager with many Muslim friends.

There wasn’t room for hate, these were my friends and on a very basic level – humans. I guess that’s what’s so hard to wrap my head around and man, traveling makes you conscious of that. It slaps you in the face with your preconceived notions and makes you aware of your privilege.

Traveling shows us that were are far more alike than different. No matter where I go, what corner of the universe I place my foot on, on an incredibly fundamental level – we all have the same common hopes, dreams, goals and priorities. 

Think about that the next time you run into a divisive rhetoric.

The Women’s March on Washington was one of the most powerful and positive experiences of my life. I learned very quickly I wasn’t alone in feeling worried about our future, but that sort of energy brought about something different: hope.

Let us cling to hope. Let us resist hate. 

I’d love to share a few of my favorite photos from the Women’s March.

I appreciate your time in reading this and hope it at least sheds some light on the current mood in America.

Why I March

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Cruising at 32,000 feet currently, on my way to Washington D.C. for the Women’s March on Washington. Have a celebratory Angry Orchard in my hand and my laptop on my tray. This is my happy place.

So, why the heck am I marching? Why would I take precious PTO and travel one day after my birthday to exercise my first amendment rights?

Because it matters. Because I matter. Because you matter. 

Like many Americans, I was reeling after the election. Stunned. This wasn’t so much a partisan issue as it was about electing a man who has made fun of minorities, people with disabilities oh and hey, 50% of the world, you know, women. I couldn’t wrap my head around it. Sure, I’ve leaned left most of my life, but I’ve supported and voted for Republicans. I wasn’t as torn up after George W won a second term. I still felt the country was in safe hands, even if I disagreed with many, many policies.

But now? Well now, I’m worried. We’re a tweet away from a war. Honestly, think about that. Let that sink in. An elected official is using 140 character to put all of our allies on the defense and in return, our lives in danger. Dramatic? Sure. Realistic? Sadly, yes.

I get so bummed out seeing apathetic friends who find it easier to say, “Let’s not get political…” than read about and understand the very issues that now affect them because they chose not to vote or on a basic level, form an opinion. They’re angry now, but where were they 4, 8, 12, 16 years ago? It doesn’t need to personally affect you to be concerning. That’s a privilege so many are unaware they have. It’s frustrating.

You know what’s helped? Knowing that millions of other people feel the same way and have united together to show that we matter, our lives matter, our votes matter and they must be represented by the people elected.

I felt moved enough to book a hotel the moment I heard that this “women’s march” may actually be happening. I texted several of my fierce friends, invited my husband and called my sister. Turns out, they were feeling the same way and soon enough, my hotel room was full.

My grandmother, whom I’ve written about, was a card- carrying Republican. Her husband, the love of her life, was a card carrying NRA member. I know they would be sick about who is representing the party they held so dear. So, I found her high school graduation ring, grabbed mine and put it on a necklace I plan to wear at the march.

This is the bottom line:

The more I travel, the more I realize at the bottom of my gut how much we are the same. We have common goals, common dreams, common hopes for our children; we have far more common ground than not.

Fear of differences will not win. I won’t let it, by making sure my voice is heard.

If you don’t agree with me, that’s okay. I encourage intelligent discourse. I fully acknowledge that our diversity in both ethnicities and opinions is what makes this country so wonderful. I don’t want to lose that.

Hell, I was vice-president in 8th grade and put together a petition to make sure our end of the school year dance lasted just as long as previous years. (It didn’t work.) I look back on that feisty 13-year-old and wonder if she’s kept quiet over the years to oblige the status quo.

Well, she’s back.

She knows that hate won’t make us great.

That’s why I march. 

 

Long Distance Marriage: 6-Month Check-In

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Hard to believe a little over 6 months ago was one of the saddest days of my life. The one that consisted of waving goodbye to the hubster, quietly shutting the front door, silently sitting in my now emptier living room and crying, while simultaneously stuffing my face with any food within 10 feet of me.

Thus began our long distance journey together.

When we found out in that bittersweet moment on Match Day that the hubster would be doing his ER residency in Michigan, we knew we needed to set up a game plan. That plan was to see each other at least once a month and at the end of 6 months, we’d do a check in to see how we’re feeling about the 1500 miles between us.

So on a warm evening last week, while the hubster was in town, we took a walk around our golf course and discussed how we’re feeling. Now, I won’t go into the nitty gritty because hey, some thing are private, but all-in-all, we’re doing well.

Even if we lived together, we’d rarely see each other. This always seems to blow some people’s minds, but for me at least, it’s reassuring. We both work long hours, sometimes on opposite schedules. That 10-15 minute phone conversation I have with him on my way home? It would be the same if we lived together.

We actually visit each other more than we thought. An unexpected injury, hurricane and days off in a row meant we saw each other once every 3 weeks usually.

Durring Hurricane Matthew.

 

Accept how tired he is. The hubster point-blank has always needed more sleep than me. With 12-14 hour shifts, up to 11 days in a row, when we did talk, the conversations were dull or he actually fell asleep. I mean, I know I’m not that boring… The times we did see each other, he often fell asleep on the couch or in bed while I was working. I try my best to understand. (This past Friday though, when my job let me work remotely so we could be together and he fell asleep on the couch…nuh-uh….mama wasn’t having it. GET UP!)

Have something planned on the horizon. We try to have our next time together planned prior to the current one ending. We have a trip to Cancun coming up (!!!), plus another vacation to plan maybe when he has time off in June. It makes the time go by faster.

Know there will be bad months. December was pretty awful. He was in the ICU and I think both of us underestimated how grueling it would be. Add in that I was tying up loose ends working long hours on holiday campaigns, getting holiday shit gifts together for relatives, and trying to plan a trip to a third world country and, you know, basically it was a giant disaster. We both made assumptions, both were in bad moods (him more so than me, of course. *adjust halo*) and both ended up agreeing that if we knew we were going to be rushed or in a bad mood, to call and catch up another (better) time.

Please know we didn’t come to that conclusion in as pretty of a fashion as it sounded. It was more like, “Mmmmkay, how ’bout I talk to you when you’re human again? kthanxbye.”

The time we do spend together is better spent. We both talked about how actually making time in our calendars to see each other for days at a time, is quality time. Sometimes it’s sitting on the couch watching a movie, but I know the time is limited so I appreciate it more, I guess.

Traveling connects us. Every time I travel with the hubster, I’m reminded why I love that man so darn much.

“I have found out that there ain’t no surer way to find out whether you like people or hate them, than to travel with them.” – Mark Twain

I’m oddly sentimental about things that used to annoy me. I went into the master bathroom this morning and the toilet seat was up. Awwww, the hubster was here. He left me a pile o’ laundry that smells like him and, you know what, I’m okay with it.

Our summer home is now where I live. He leaves all his shorts and golf gear here until about Mid-May when the snowbirds head back up north for the summer. I also usually get a text before he comes to take a picture of what’s in the closet to she doesn’t overpack. Ha.

Goodbyes aren’t getting easier. Sure, I’m adjusting to the time away from each other, but saying goodbye sucks. Pit of your stomach, want to roll over and go back to sleep sucks. I hear that won’t change. Weeeeee.

 

So that’s it from the home front. Looks like we’re in for another 6 months of long distance love. Buckle up!

Surviving The Holidays Alone

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The holidays are bittersweet for me. I try desperately to enjoy them and sometimes I’m successful. But, more often than not, they tend to be an annoying pebble in my shoe, reminding me with each step of where I seemingly fall on the totem pole.

I can’t remember the last time I spent Christmas or Thanksgiving with family in my own place — it must have been before college. Each holiday brings about another round of travel; if I’m not traveling to see family at their homes, I’m alone. The choice seems to be that “simple.” And, keeping it real, it sucks.

I know I’m not alone in feeling like that, I’ve talked to friends who seem to always have to be the “flexible ones” and leave their homes to visit others.

This year, since the hubster was working every night over Christmas, there wasn’t much of a point in me flying up to see him. With us traveling more to see each other, the logistics of another quick-turnaround-and-head-back trip to travel and see my family wasn’t in the cards. I’ve invited everyone down to Florida, the US mecca of warm vacations, but for some reason or another it never seems to work out. I try not to take it personally because sometimes it’s purely situational. But sometimes I’m left wondering how many times you invite people before you stop because it must be you because you smell or something?

*sniffs armpits*

The holidays have a way of doing that, you know? Problems are a bit magnified. Being alone or left out, you begin to question your own place in your family, your job, your life goals, your burrito from last night, your current choice in fuzzy socks; it can certainly suck you into the vortex of self-pity and doubt. It could have been you with your family, but it’s not, so you better suck it up and deal, chickadee.

So, for anyone else that finds themselves alone on the holidays, this is how I dealt with it.

Plan it all out. What you’re doing each day or what you’d like to accomplish, even if that is going to pick up a cornish hen, since that’s the only bird that’s just the right amount for a dinner for one. This was my day-by-day.

Christmas Eve Eve

Start the time off right — with a good, long walk.

Join the masses at the grocery store to buy your meal-for-one. Laugh with another lady who is deeply annoyed she’s cooking for 11 and show empathy by waving your cornish hen leg at her as you part ways.

Christmas Eve

Go to your friends’ house while they are away visiting family to take care of their kitties and then freak out because you can’t find the one cat that needs to get a pill. Then find her and laugh with her then realize you’re laughing with a cat and cry a little inside.

Go on a virtual date with the hubster and see the movie Passengers.

Spend Christmas Eve with your friend’s family. If you’re lucky, they’ll be Colombian and show you new (awesome) traditions.

Christmas Day

Head to kitty place again and decide that pussy can’t hide from you – success!

Workout on your new exercise bike and do crunches to prepare for the imminent dinner course.

Talk to your dad and step mom while they’re currently trying to get up an icy hill in Minnesota.

Open up the 2 gifts under your tree, one from your dad and one from your sister. Laugh at your husband who accidentally sent your gift to his current address, so you open up your (upcoming) birthday gift that he already sent instead.

New Tieks!!

 

Go to the pool in a Santa hat drinking a Bloody Mary.

FaceTime with your hubster and then the BFFs.

Then FaceTime your brother, sister-in-law and adorable niece who needed to show you all her (naked) Barbies. They were taking a bath, duh.

Call your sister who is also on her way to work in the ICU. (I can’t get away from you healthcare people!)

Make Buffalo Chicken Tater Tots, watch Bridget Jones’ Baby and hit the hay — Christmas is just another day.

Tots and prosecco.

 

Christmas Day (observed)

If you’re lucky, you get one more day off alone.

You crushed half those tots the night before, so hop on the bike again and do some more crunches.

The pool and Bloody Mary are calling your name again, this time lacking a typical Floridian afternoon downpour. Score!

Have kitty parents come over to pick up their house keys and spend some time laughing about how ridiculous med school and doctors are over a bottle o’ wine.

Clean.

Cornish Hen time! Whip up some mashed potatoes and broccoli too for good measure.

Print more shit out for your Cuban adventure and hit the hay — Christmas Day (observed) is just another day.

 

 

Basically, keep busy. I tried to just take care of myself and not let my mind wander. I’ll admit – there were some tears. It would have been great to have been around family, but I got through it and think I tried to make the best of it.

I also know the nay-sayers will wag their judging and unsupportive fingers saying things like, “This is what you signed up for being a doctor’s spouse.” or “I’d love to have a few days off on my own! Sheesh!” Thanks for your unhelpful input, I’ll be sure to write it down and burn it later.

And if that’s not inspiring, perhaps some kind words from JK Rowling will be. She shares many of the same sentiments about the holidays, but expresses it more eloquently than I can:

JK Rowling Christmas Message

Have you spent a holiday totally alone?

Currently Caroline, September 2016

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Currently I’m:

currentlycarolineseptember-1-2

Located: On my couch, with my cast and toes above my nose.

Listening to: Million Dollar Listing New York: Ryan’s Wedding

Thinking about: What it will feel like to walk again. *sigh* And drive again. And pee at 3am without getting on my scooter to head to the bathroom.

So remember that MRI I had last month? 2 completely torn ligaments. 1 partially torn ligament. 1 fracture. And I was walking around on it for a month…whoops. Doc threw me in a cast for 6-8 weeks. Then a walking boot for 2 weeks after that. Then physical therapy after that. Oh yeah, and I’m non-weight bearing. Meaning, I can’t even walk in this cast.

I had to cancel two trips because I’m not allowed to fly — blood clots. Oh and my Thanksgiving holiday may be in jeopardy too if I don’t heal well because my family doesn’t live within a 1,000 mile radius and I always have to fly to see them. Plus, did I mention this is my right foot, so I’m not allowed to drive. Not only can I not really push on the pedal, it’s also illegal allegedly. (I asked.)

currentlycarolineseptember-1 currentlycarolineseptember-3

Looking forward to: A weekend to relax and reflect. I really can’t do much else. #castlife

Drinking: La Croix water. Duh. (I have problems.)

Thankful for: Fucking awesome, helpful coworkers who are kind enough to drive me to and from work. I don’t know what I’d do without them. Well I do, I’d Uber, but that shit adds up. Plus, a dear friend of mine from elementary school (!) set up a Meal Train for me and friends came out of the woodwork to donate and make sure I was able to have stuff delivered to my house. I was so touched.

The hubster also flew home last weekend to tend to my immobile ass and it was really nice having him by my side. I got to sit on the wall of Fort Lauderdale Beach and just relax. It’s one of my favorite spots in the world.

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Worried about: If this is the last cast I’ll have. Yes, I’ve had two so far in this immobilization process. She wants me in a cast for 2 weeks at a time, come back to be examined and then re-casted (is that a verb?) again. This last time I asked if it would be the last cast and she said to not get my hopes up, but to bring my walking boot for my next appointment in 2 weeks.

SO SEND POSITIVE WALKING VIBES MY WAY, PEOPLE.

Laughing about: The bell one of my coworkers got for my scooter. I’d say it’s pretty spot on for me, eh? Plus, my brother and sister-in-law got me some sweet flowers and streamers to attach to my scoots.

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Mad about: Being lied to. Never feels good. Feels worse that the person who is lying 1) thinks it’s okay and 2) doesn’t think you know. Rise above it, Caroline. Riiiiiise above it. (Yes, this is the same thing as last month. Apparently, I’m like flypaper for liars.)

Curious about: This next month. Not only is it our busy season at work, one of our writers has resigned and well, it will hopefully be a smooth transition while we hire another one. Additionally, you know, I’m quite immobile, so everything takes me twice as long to do, including making lunch or dinner. And peeing. God peeing is the worst, hopping up and down on my good leg to pull my pants down. So mix in busy season, an added workload, stress and being limited to one leg…let’s just say I’m curious how it will end up.

I’m meditating in the mornings.

Also, drinking tequila at night.

 

Currently Caroline, August 2016

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Currently I’m:

CurrentlyCarolineAugust-4

Located: In my bedroom packing for another trip (shocking!). I’m heading to Detroit this week to see the hubster over Labor Day weekend.

Listening to: The NYC Real Housewives Reunion.

Thinking about: Different ways to say the same thing for one of our major clients because that’s what one thinks about while packing. Ugh. #copywriterproblems

Looking forward to: Hugging the hubster. Eating dinner at a table with the hubster. Laughing in person with the hubster. Watching TV and zoning out with the hubster. Going grocery shopping with the hubster. Petting the hubster. Too much?

Drinking: La Croix water. Duh.

Thankful for: Supportive, honest family members who always make me giggle when shit hits the fan.

Worried about: The results from my MRI on my ankle and foot. Doc wasn’t too encouraging, “Really, really interested to see what’s going on.” I am too. She was cool though. MRI is scheduled for this weekend. Who knew they had hours on Sundays? GLORIOUS.

Plus, because my health insurance is through the ER doc hubster, if I get my MRI in Michigan through their hospital network, it’s only a $300 deductible. If I do it in-network, but in Florida, it’s a $3000 deductible. Basically, if I need anything major done, it’s cheaper for me to fly to Michigan. Oh health insurance, you fickle beast.

CurrentlyCarolineAugust

Laughing about: How excited I am for a Delta Biscotti cookie. Yeah buddy!

CurrentlyCarolineAugust-2

Mad about: Being lied to. Never feels good. Feels worse that the person who is lying 1) thinks it’s okay and 2) doesn’t think you know. Rise above it, Caroline. Riiiiiise above it.

Curious about: How long this hair dye will last. Oh yeah, I colored my hair pink! It’s something I’ve always been intrigued by and I finally did it. I love it!

CurrentlyCarolineAugust-3