Chicken Little On Steroids - There's Not A Lot of "Problem" In Your "Problem"

Hello LilyOnTheLam.Com Readers:

I feel like this past year or so the Universe has been trying to get me to "Embrace and extend compassion even when people are being total dumbasses."  

Which by the way, will be the title of one of my hundreds of self-help books when I become the next Deepak Chopra.

Since Chopra rhymes with Oprah, I think the key to my becoming a very wealthy self-help guru is changing my name to "Loprah."  No need for hard work, insight or connections; just a simple name change!

So welcome to Loprah On The Lam!

I find the older I get, the more I am turning into that frizzy haired old woman from Hallmark.  (Check her out at Maxine.com!)

I honestly do not attribute this as much to human aging (I am, after all, 9000 years old), but to the fact that I work for a company where you can never deliver fast enough.  I literally could have a time machine, go back in time and respond to someone weeks before a deadline and I would still hear that my division is not fast enough.  

It's human nature.  Many people need to complain about something, anything.  Complaining just to show their existence on Earth.  And with some people, you would think that complaining burns calories the way they do it with such vigor!

Because I do have to work fast and furiously (as in speedy and efficient, not as in wearing a Vin Diesel mask), my brain tends to steamroller over the attempts of others who slow me down from my goal.  I really do feel like a Terminator Robot/Cyborg thing in my single-minded focus to achieve my deliverables for work.  I don't have time for stupidity and I am not going to let stupid people derail me with issues that don't matter.

Although, frankly I remember being three years old, meeting Chicken Little ("the sky is falling!") neurotic adults and thinking "Ugh, I don't have time for your insanity!"  

My toddler schedule was naps, pre-school, singing to my stuffed animals, learning elementary French and watching TV.  But still, this kid had NO TIME for the dumbasses of this world!    

It's like if your objective is to build a box with wood, hammer and nails within 5 minutes and someone keeps screaming in your ear that the cafeteria only serves eggs six ways.  

I get very perturbed with the distraction.  It has nothing to do with the project at hand.  It is not helpful in any light and frankly there's not a lot of "problem" in that "problem."  Boo freaking hoo!  

Now sure, maybe this person has some sort of egg phobia or mental condition that if they don't have access to eggs served twelve ways at all times, they flip out.  

But I feel like "Hey, I am not your therapist.  We're here to get a job done.  You are not helping.  Either get on board or get out of my way!"  The typical Western corporate steamroller.  I don't have time to be the warm, fuzzy, HR coach when my deliverables are large with fast turnaround times.  Perhaps this has made me more hard, cold and cynical to those around me who need added attention to be able to fully function.

Not to get all "deep childhood analysis" on y'all, but I do think that because I basically had to raise myself from age five that I am less sympathetic to those who are ultra needy.  I think my inner monologue is running on a "Yeah, life is hard.  Buck up little camper!  No one helped me.  I had to help myself!  So toughen up!" mentality.  

(Which by the way, the "no one helped me" part is not accurate,  Many people have helped me over the course of my lifetime but I do think I have lower tolerance for sucking voids of humanity who refuse to do anything on their own.)    

So who's to say - maybe I have always had a lower tolerance for dumbasses … and maybe my advanced years or corporate drone mentality has kicked that low tolerance down to almost nothingness.  

Regardless of the reason, I know that I have less patience, understanding, caring and compassion for people who create worry/concern/drama over nothing and expect everyone else to drop everything to save them.  

To quote many a Twitter meme:  "I have no f*cks to give for that."

Now instead of trying to work on myself to become some sort of universally acceptable, spiritually loving Gandhi figure.  I prefer to just stay away from people like this … especially if they are at an advanced age.  If you're 0 - 25 years old, I am going to cut you some slack if you're a Chicken Little screaming about nothing.  You're young and most likely have had limited experiences.  That's all part of growing up.  

But if you are in your 60's - 90's (like most of my Floridian condo neighbors), I think your window for self-change is either minutely miniature or boarded up forever.  A simple "Hey, stop being a Chicken Little worrying and creating drama over nothing" is not going to generate a journey of self-exploration.

The problem for me is that I am not self-sufficient enough to move on to an uninhabited island.  I would be asking "Um, where's the wifi?" within about three minutes.  Electricity, food, shelter … I kind of like them … a lot.  

Plus for some unknown reason, I have my own moral code where I do try to help people when and where I can.  (Which, by the way, is a pretty sucky moral code, since it usually bites me in the ass, slaps me in the face and really makes me regret helping people … but I digress ...)  

I do a great deal of volunteer work.  Even though I have not had anywhere close to what I would describe as a "perfect life," I have been extremely fortunate.  I grew up with nothing so I have a level of appreciation that those who grew up with everything handed to them, may not have.  

As I was a young adult and to this day, I started to have opportunities many others have not.  Sure many of those opportunities came from extremely hard work, but other times it was just from being at the right place, at the right time, talking to the right person.  Sometimes you are just insanely, incredibly lucky.    
  
Even though a lot of times my efforts cause more aggravation or frustration, I am just wired to "give back" in appreciation for what I have received.  I do feel that most of my opportunities have been gifts (either from people, companies, the Universe, God, Oprah … whatever, whomever, wherever).  To take without giving back in some way or manner, to me, is criminal.  It's like slapping the universe in the face and saying "Gimme More!"  

Call it karma, paying it forward or what have you … but I do believe we all owe a social debt for all we have.  If there is something you can do to make someone else's life better without completely unraveling your life, shouldn't you do it?  

For example, I volunteer with a 25 year old woman who is working in a high school advisory program very much like the one in which my own sister is currently working.  This woman is a good person, but a little lost at how to get from Point A to Point Q, career-wise and future-wise.  She is at a natural point in human development.  She has finished her schooling and now isn't sure how to best build a solid career.  

She asked me if I would share my story about my own education and career.  I could have brushed her off and said I was busy, but I wasn't busy and I knew it'd be only a 20 minute conversation or so.  So why not help?  

I took her through my education, my career history.  I talked about career missteps and career triumphs.  She soaked in the entire conversation like I was doling out great wisdom.  My colleague gets some career advice/lessons learned/words of wisdom for just a few minutes of my time.  To me, that is a completely acceptable exchange.  To be able to help someone - why wouldn't you do it?           

In one of my other volunteering assignments, I have to deal with an older woman (late 60's/early 70's I believe?  People age pretty well in Florida.  My neighbor is 75 and I thought he was 48!).  

This older woman is "Chicken Little on Steroids."  I understand being worried about things.  Sometimes we just cannot help it and someone saying "Let it go" or "Get over it" is not some magic wand that suddenly fixes the attitude.  However I think a person's worry should be contained to a specific sphere of probable scenarios.  This particular Chicken Little is the worst case I have ever seen.  

I think we have all known Chicken Littles who worry about things that will most likely never happen.  It's like living in Oklahoma and worrying about a tidal wave.  There is no possible way this will ever happen unless North America splits in half and Oklahoma is now a coastal state.  So why worry about it?  If the continent breaks in half, I think tidal waves will be just one of 9 million problems we will all suddenly have.  No need or reason to waste time worrying about something that will most likely never occur.  

But this particular Chicken Little goes even further than that … it's like "What if North America splits in half, Oklahoma becomes a coastal state and is ravaged by a tidal wave which somehow signals an alien invasion and the assistant to the head alien was supposed to eat chicken noodle soup for lunch but there was a mix-up and instead he ate tomato soup and spilled a little bit on his tie, staining it temporarily.  WHAT WILL WE DO?  WHAT WILL WE DO?  WE NEED IMMEDIATE PROTOCOLS TO DEAL WITH THIS SITUATION!  NOW!"

And to add insult to injury, she is very patronizing and downright mean and disrespectful.  She acts as if we are lazy dumbf*cks who are not doing our job because we don't already have a 700 page plan on what to do about the Head Alien's Assistant's Soup-Stained Tie.  

If you come at me with anger and disrespect; it is extremely difficult for me to return your energy with love, compassion and respect.    

I must state for the record that this particular aged Chicken Little (to my knowledge) is not senile or in other ways, mentally infirmed.  My non-medical opinion is that she is a biatch who likes to worry and likes people to jump at her beck and call.  But seriously, I cannot "jump" when the worry is SO STUPID with NO CHANCE of EVER happening.  

Plus when my team is already drowning with real, current problems that are actually happening, to be constantly derailed by a neurotic Chicken Little worrying about issues that will NEVER occur infuriates me (to say the least!)

In trying to be a more aware, productive, compassionate person; I stopped to think today: "Is there a better way I can handle this situation?"  

"Is there a discussion I can have with this person who for months has been a neurotic pain in the sides of the entire volunteer team?"  (A non-appreciative, always bitching and disrespectful pain as well.)  

"Is there something I can do to change this situation for the positive versus throwing back an equal amount of negativity at her insanity?"  

"Is there a way I can channel and extend compassion even to those who are complete dumbasses?"

"What would Oprah do?  What would Chopra do?  What can Loprah on the Lam do?"

Unfortunately this particular volunteering involves my neighbors, so I can't just be an arsehole and diss one neighbor in favor of working with others to get our projects completed.  Societally, I have to actually be nice.  (Yuck!)  

I am trying to embrace and extend compassion.  Trying to see the world through this biatchy, stupid Chicken Little on Steroids' eyes so that her insane, unproductive, derailing behavior doesn't piss me off - and in turn, maybe I can help her and help myself.

Perhaps the first step to creating, embracing and extending compassion is not to refer to someone as biatchy, stupid, insane, unproductive with derailing behaviors.  Just a thought …

For some reason the mere act of changing my name to Loprah hasn't instilled me with great universal wisdom and answers to all my questions!  I'm shocked!

Maybe there are no answers to this particular situation.  

Maybe this Chicken Little on Steroids is so hard-wired to be a complete neurotic, attention-sucking biatch that there is nothing I could ever do or say to change the situation other than how I personally react to it.  (Can't change you, can only change me and how I react to you?)

Or maybe this is the Universe telling me to be more compassionate with other people who are dealing with "more legitimate" worries, problems and issues.  To try to see things from their eyes and cut them some more slack.  I probably cannot satisfy the Chicken Little on Steroids, but maybe I could help other people who are less crazy? 

Or maybe there's no "universal compassion to others" guru message here.  Maybe people are just people - some good, some shitty … and all we can control is ourselves and how we let it affect us?

Who knows?  I think my inner Loprah has left me to run her own cable network!  She took all the answers with her!

Right now I feel like the only thing I am embracing is my own inner lack of knowledge … but that's OK.  

Sometimes the first step is just asking the right questions.  

Since You Are Here … Deepak Chopra, Hello Kitty, Organ Donation and Loving Everyone

Happy Saturday LilyOnTheLam.Com Readers!

I hope you are having a terrific weekend!  If you are in the Tampa Bay area, today and tomorrow (4/19 & 20, 2014) the 39th annual Mainsail Art Festival is being held at Vinoy Park.  Definitely a fun event if you are an art lover … or an outdoor festival lover … or a "just want to hang out by the water" lover.  Basically all your bases are covered here!

Being a social media fiend, every day on Twitter I am bombarded by inspirational messages (and also some non-inspirational ones too.)  I saw this internet meme, laughed and knew I had to include it on LilyOnTheLam.

My readership is small but mighty!  They are composed of friends, family members, friends/family of friends, some of my Twitter followers, people who came across me on a Google search and liked what they saw, Spam robots in the US and various foreign countries who misappropriate my text to drive readership to their sites (HATE YOU- so many cease and desist letters- ARGH!), Lily fans in general, Lily stalkers and a very tiny minority are people who don't wish me well but yet want to know what I am doing at all times.  This teeny minority is the one I thought about when I saw the meme above.

Gratefully I have very few enemies in this life, but there are some people that for various reasons I no longer want to associate with … and I find that these are the ones who endlessly check my Twitter and LilyOnTheLam.  To this very small group, I have to say "Really?  You need to let go and move on.  There are no answers for you here."  

Life is too short to make yourself an emotional martyr, self-flagellating by reading this blog!     

But I doubt these words of "Lily (cough) wisdom" will deter them from continuing to haunt LilyOnTheLam.  So at least click on a few ads; so I can make some money, Haters!  

In the grand scheme of things, it is a public blog - so no matter who you are- read away and increase my pages viewed count!  And thank you for reading!

Meanwhile, I'll be spending time with open-minded people who give me gifts like this …

So Gorgeous and So Filled With Chocolate

And "Since You Are Here …" allow me to climb on my soap box and preach to you all.  I figure that for whatever reason you are here reading my blog today, I might as well throw in a global goodwill message!

I read a moving article about the young recipient of a heart transplant and the family of the woman who donated the heart.  I remember last year, a young woman drove to visit her older sister in college.  She swerved to avoid stopped traffic and hit a tree.  She died and her passenger lived.  Because I am an older sister, when I had heard about the accident I thought about how much anguish, guilt and sorrow I would have if my little sister died on the way to visit me.  Accidents happen and this one was no one's fault, but that does not alleviate a family's suffering.

I was happy to read in the article that the family had donated the young woman's heart and a teenager received the heart - and so far (knock on wood) has not had any organ rejection complications.

I am listed as an organ donor on my drivers' license.  With no offense intended to religions/cultures who are against desecrating a body in any way (including organ donation), I do believe that more people should be listed as organ donors.  

A high school friend's sister had a life saving bone marrow transplant from a live donor.  (More people are needed for the bone marrow registry, if you are interested - check here.)

I understand if people are hesitant to be live donors.  I feel like I live continually under Murphy's Law, so if I donated a kidney I know I would be afraid that my remaining kidney would fail.  I'm crazy and neurotic like that - luckily not everyone thinks like me when it comes to live donations.

But even for Crazy Me, I really have zero excuses about organ donation after death.  Whether there is an afterlife, whether there is reincarnation or whether the end of this life is the end all/be all - I am not going to be needing my organs after I leave this Earth.  (Or at least I hope I won't- I'm willing to take that chance!)

When I die (which hopefully is a long, long, long time from now) - carve me up and take every useable piece of me and save as many people as you can.  Then incinerate the rest of me - ashes to ashes, dust to dust.  

I read an interview with Deepak Chopra in the Tampa Tribune.  The interviewer asked him how he wanted to be remembered after he died.  Deepak Chopra answered: " … We're just a fragrance in the breeze.  What do you remember of your great-grandparents?  We're only good for a generation or two, then we fade into obscurity.  So embrace the moment."

The phrase "we're just a fragrance in the breeze" really stuck with me long after reading the interview.  Life, no matter how long you inhabit this Earth, is relatively short.  I cannot think of a more meaningful way to seize some semblance of immortality then by extending the life of another through organ donation.  

If you are not an organ donor, I would ask you to consider it.  Like the Butterfly effect (check out my post on it!), our words and actions can carry on a life of their own for decades or even longer.  

I don't know if at the end of my days I will have made any worthwhile contribution to humanity/society, but if even one of my organs could give a person more time on this Earth - that alone is a pretty amazing accomplishment.  (In my humble opinion.)

Think it over.

Be well.  Be happy.  Be at peace with your world.  This is what I strive for every day and I hope it is something you achieve with bountiful success.

Thanks again for reading!  

Emotional Spring Cleaning

I read an interesting article emailed by the Chopra Center on Emotional Spring Cleaning.  I am including the link here for those interested in doing more than just turning their clocks ahead one hour.

And if you like a little laughter with your Chopra, check out a vintage LilyOnTheLam.com blog post entitled "This Dog Loves Deepak Chopra, Do You?"

P.S. In selecting a corresponding ad to go with this blog post, I stumbled upon a Deepak Chopra Nintendo Wii game.  WHO KNEW??  Once again, I commend the man's marketing savvy and penetration into every purchaseable medium.  I think the path to true enlightenment may be aligned with a road paved in gold - and I am not talking Oz here.





   

John Oliver: Tampa apologizes ...

Tonight, LM and I went to Ferguson Hall at the Straz Center to see adorable British comedian John Oliver.  He is probably best known for his work on Comedy Central's "The Daily Show with Jon Stewart."  I was excited because we had 5th row seats and I have a fetish about being up close and personal for most shows I attend.  My friends call me "Seat Whore" - and I am hoping this is in reference to aforementioned said fetish and not some independently nasty slur.  The last time I was at the Straz Center, I was at Morsani Hall to see Dr. Deepak Chopra.  See my earlier blog post:  "This Dog Loves Deepak Chopra, Do You?"  The surprise that night was seeing two "diabetic service dogs" in the front row.  The events that happened at the John Oliver show this evening made me severely miss those two dogs! 


John's opening act was comedian Mike Lawrence - who in talking about his 7 year run working at McDonald's made me feel sad and yet crave a Happy Meal at the same time.  Nice work, Mike!


The show started at 8 p.m. on a Friday.  You would think most people just finished work, perhaps grabbed a quick dinner and then headed down to the Straz Center.  But apparently many audience members just arrived from the local bar where they secretly replaced their entire blood supply with grain alcohol.  Now, as someone who tends to dabble on the boozy side myself; I really shouldn't throw stones.  After all, I had turned to LM and said "I didn't get a chance to eat dinner before the show, so I ordered orange juice with my vodka-- I figure that counts as a meal, right?"  However, since I was not slurring my words or talking at the decibel level that someone screaming over a rock concert would; I feel like I can be a tad bit superior over the drunk audience members.


Midway through the opening act, a 23 year old woman and her advanced middle-aged mother sat down in the two seats directly to my right.  It appeared that the advanced middle-aged woman may have possibly been one of those patrons getting an Everclear transfusion at the local bar.  She clutched her plastic glass a little too tightly and was talking way too loudly.  I tried to find my Zen happy place to tune her out.  However, since I have an anger management issue - it gets increasingly hard to find my happy place even with Google Earth and a Garmin GPS.


After a funny, but somewhat sad, but still pretty darn funny set from Mike Lawrence, out popped the British cupcake himself - John Oliver.  (I am assuming I'm probably one of the first people to ever call John Oliver a British cupcake.  I'm just guessing here.)  I love John Oliver's sense of humor - dry, smart, funny.  I imagine that if I were at a pub with John, hoisting a few pints - by the third or fourth beer I'd lose all ability to ascertain whether he was making fun of me.  And yet I'm pretty sure he would be and he'd be doing it in a smart way.


John Oliver started with some jokes on life as a Brit in America.  Evidently, advanced middle-aged woman ("AMAW" for short!) had no idea who she was seeing at the Straz Center.  She kept screaming at her daughter: "WHO IS THIS?  WHAT'S HIS NAME?  JOHN OLIVER??  REALLY?"  It was as if her daughter had said "Lord Poopinsquat, Demonic Overlord of the Seventh Moon" because AMAW could simply not fathom that anyone could possibly be named "John Oliver."  I was trying to decide if AMAW was really, really drunk or really, really nuts.  Either way, it was increasingly apparent that this woman was going to be a loose cannon.  I could hear her mentioning potential heckle comments.  Seriously?  There is better behavior at the local comedy club!!  Did this woman actually come with her game face on to heckle John Oliver?  Here's a clue lady, if you're going to heckle a comedian - at least know who you are heckling.  I paid to see John Oliver because I think he is hysterical.  I did not pay to hear your drunken ranting.  I'm a tall girl - I'd be able to hold my own in a prison fight.  I'm not afraid to knock you out lady, because seriously it would take one blow.  I saw the MMA movie "Warrior" for heaven's sake.  I'm ready to take you down!  Did I mention my anger management issue? 


If I had a time machine, I'd go back to right before John Oliver made a comment about Canada.  I'd pop out of said time machine and I would throw myself on John Oliver and I would beg, with excessive tears running down my cheeks, "FOR THE LOVE OF GOD MAN, DO NOT MENTION CANADA!" 


But as anyone who has seen me try to change a light bulb knows, I am not the most technically inclined and therefore the chances of me designing and constructing a time machine are slightly better than me winning the Powerball lottery.  Sigh.  I apologize John Oliver, if ever there was a moment that truly needed a time machine; this was it.  I let you and everyone in Ferguson Hall down tonight because I don't have a time machine.


Apparently, allegedly drunk or insane AMAW is from Canada.


The night took a bad turn, right there.  AMAW put on her strongest, smartest thinking cap and after checking with her daughter again: "Um, what's his name again?  John Oliver??  Really?  OK.  OK.  JOHN - WHERE ARE YOU FROM THEN?" 


Yes, AMAW asked this right after about 10 minutes of John's jokes about being British in America.  Evidently AMAW does not understand the correlation between "Being British" and where someone is from.  England.  Great Britain.  UK.  Any of those work, AMAW; pick one. 


The entire theater went very quiet.  I kept making hand gestures and slumping in my seat to show all the people staring at us that LM and I were most certainly NOT with this crazy woman.  We, minus AMAW, were a theater full of Floridians feeling embarrassed, annoyed and severely apologetic to John Oliver.  I go to a ton of shows at the Tampa Improv and I have never seen a heckler this bad.  But for a nationally known comedian at the Straz Center?  Come on!  Give the man some respect!  Our entire section would cheer madly any time John made a reference to how annoying the crazy Canadian was.  When I let out a frantic arm waving round of clapping and hooting when John made reference to those seated near AMAW must want to hurt her, AMAW looked at me with surprise.  Seriously?  Do you have no concept how disruptive and annoying you are, lady? 


I eyed the people around us with beer bottles. If people decided to start throwing things at AMAW, I could only pray that they had good aim as I was directly next to AMAW's daughter and AMAW.


Turns out AMAW is named "Susan" and she is from Melbourne, Florida (Tampa breathes a sigh of relief!) and may or may not be a massage therapist.  John Oliver made some well-deserved jokes at AMAW's expense, but when it came out that AMAW was with her 23 year old daughter - John, chivalrously let up and referred to the daughter as a "human shield."  I was sitting on the other side of the daughter.  If I had been sitting directly next to her mother, I'd be in jail right now for assault and battery.  I kid you, not.  John Oliver finally directed conversation away from Susan saying that continued attention on her would be like giving a 3 year old a tamborine.  Amen, brother!


The rest of the show was hysterically funny, but I had to do my best to drown out the very loud talking from Susan/AMAW.  She kept strategizing with her daughter on potential lines to heckle John Oliver with - but she kept forgetting his name, so she had to keep asking what it was.  How hard is it to remember John Oliver?  The inner debate I was having over drunk vs. crazy was tipping to the "crazy/nutso/batsh*t looney" side.  Susan/AMAW was determined to get the "spotlight" back on her.  Evidently, she thought she was in an audience participation show.  I kept waiting for her to get up and do the "Time Warp."  Instead she kept yelling out "COMMONWEALTH!" at inappropriate times.  Although come to think of it, is there ever an appropriate time to yell out "Commonwealth"?


After many wonderful jokes, John Oliver was wrapping up to say "Good Night" when Susan cut in again!  At this point, I'm surprised she didn't vault the stage and climb on John's back screaming "Ride 'em, Cowboy!"  Did my ticket say "John Oliver with special guest star Susan, the allegedly drunk or crazy Canadian?"  Watch out, Mike Lawrence-- apparently Susan thinks she's in line for your opening act slot!


The house lights went up and the entire room full of people glared at Susan, the Canadian.  However with the same ambivalence of drunks and loons, Susan had no freaking clue.  She thought she had MADE the evening!  She was all aglow from her time in the spotlight.  I could imagine Susan going home and pulling out that script she wrote for a "Golden Girls" episode and saying "SEE!  SEE!  I KNEW I WAS FUNNY!"


The entire six rows that sat around Susan, including LM and myself, stayed in our seats.  We did not want to be anywhere near Susan the Canadian as she was leaving.  I imagine this would be how we would behave in prison.  We have a feeling someone is going to get shivved in the prison cafeteria and we don't want any part of the backlash, so we focus intently on our fruit cocktail instead.  Once Susan was out of the theater, our six rows got up and left - shaking our heads with disbelief.


I wanted to write John Oliver a letter of apology on behalf of the city of Tampa for this Melbourne, Florida/Canadian woman's antics.  Totally uncalled for, totally disrespectful and totally disruptive.


LM and I walked around the Straz Center to get to the back lot where LM's car was waiting for us.  LM was making an impassioned speech on a woman's right to choose when I saw four people standing by a side door.  It was Mike Lawrence, John Oliver and a man and a woman who were getting a picture with John Oliver.  Directly in the middle of LM's strong point on why all women should have the right to choose, I took both hands and shoved LM in the direction of John Oliver.  If shoving LM for distance was an Olympic sport, I totally would have nailed the Bronze.  Possibly the Silver.  I'm a little embarrassed how hard I pushed her and how far she went with my single two-handed shove! 


However there was a reason for my Olympic shove.  When it comes to getting pictures with celebrities, LM is the Queen - and I was NOT going to let her miss this opportunity!  If you are even remotely famous, you probably have had your picture taken with LM at some point in your career.  She is a "photo opportunity with celebrities" magnet!  In fact, if you want to be famous, take a picture with LM.  You're as good as golden.


I may have quite probably dislocated LM's shoulder in shoving her so hard, instead of merely saying "Hey look, there's John Oliver-- fancy a photo with him?"  But see, I'm American - I say things with violence!  (Are you listening, allegedly Crazy Canadian???)  Luckily, LM understands that sometimes a shoulder needs to get dislocated in order to get a picture with a British cupcake!  She's a hell of a trooper! 


We bum-rushed John Oliver and explained to him and the crowd that gathered directly behind us that we were sitting next to Susan the Canadian.  A collective gasp ensued.  John Oliver did what I wish most of my boyfriends did -- he let out a heart-felt "Ohhhh nooooo!" (as in "Ohh noo, you poor darlings - let me hold you and make you feel better!") and wrapped his arms around us for a picture.  It was like we said "we are Viet Nam veterans with post-traumatic stress disorder, please hold us and make the pain go away." 


God bless the sweet British Cupcake, John gave us much sympathy! When I told him that AMAW and his daughter had spent the second half of the show trying to strategize more heckle lines to get Susan "back in the show,"  John Oliver shook his head and said he was now glad that he did heckle her back.  Down-to-Earth and lovely, it was a pleasure to meet John Oliver.


LM looked radiant and fabulous in her picture with John Oliver.  However, I'm not happy with my look in my picture.  I keep thinking that flat-ironing my hair makes me look chic and cool, when in reality it makes me look like a drowned gopher.  A drowned gopher grinning cheesily at John Oliver.  So I am not going to post the picture, I think the visual I just gave you is enough.  But I will share the adorable picture of John Oliver (with cheesy drowned gopher cropped out).  John's last bit of the night was running back and forth on the stage, so he looks sweaty - but still a sweaty British cupcake is better than no British cupcake at all.  He also looks appropriately crazed in this picture, which frankly is the look most men have when they wrap their arm around me.

 
So thank you, John Oliver - your show was fantastic.  The fabulously emotionally supportive way you let two Tampa women screech about how awful it was to be seated next to the rude Canadian women obviously shows that you are a kind and caring man - or that your wife has beaten it into you on how to be comforting.  


I would have loved to hear some stories about your life working with Jon Stewart (and Wyatt Cenac - the adorable American cupcake), but I understand you probably want to be known for more than just "The Daily Show."  On behalf of Tampa, we are ever so sorry and embarassed by the allegedly crazy Canadian - please don't hold it against us and visit us again soon!


Update:  After I published this post, the Google Ads on my blog started featuring ads for Menopause supplements.  Apparently my over-use of the term "advanced middle-aged" in referring to the allegedly drunk and/or allegedly crazy Canadian has caused my blog ads to become Menopause Central.  Oh Blogger.com - you are the gift that keeps on giving! 

This Dog Loves Deepak Chopra, Do You?

Dr. Deepak Chopra was recently in Tampa, Florida to give a lecture on "Healing, Transformation and Higher Consciousness."  I was fortunate to have third row seats.  Imagine my surprise when a woman walked in and took a seat in the first row with not one, but two dogs.  Evidently the two dogs are diabetic service dogs.  I'm not sure why two dogs were needed.  I suspected this was all a scam and that in fact the two dogs were actually rabid Deepak Chopra fans and this whole "diabetic service dog" thing was their way in.  God bless you, puppies - whatever it takes to get a front row seat to Deepak Chopra.  I understand!


I have no clue what kind of dogs these diabetic service dogs were - basically in my world, there's poodles, pugs, golden retrievers and pitbulls.  So I am going to say these dogs were some sort of poodle mix.  Which I am 97% sure is incorrect.  I had to take pictures of the dogs, because frankly I was still in shock that there were dogs in front row seats at Deepak Chopra.  Darn VIP dogs!

Once Dr. Chopra came out and started talking, I forgot all about the cocker spaniel-y/poodle/scammer VIP dogs.  I was mesmerized listening to Dr. Chopra's theories about ourselves, our universe and our place within it all.  I think the concept that we are all interconnected within the universe and that we are constantly rebuilding ourselves molecularly is fascinating.  The lecture was very interesting. 

Yesterday, I finished Brad Warner's book "Zen Dipped in Karma Wrapped in Chocolate."  (Which by the way, is a freaking rocking title.)  Again themes of interconnectedness and how we're not special entities but all parts of the same universe.  I think the universe may be trying to tell me something here.  Hopefully the message is not that I need to get two dogs and start buying them VIP front row tickets to lectures ...

I bought two more of Brad Warner's books "Hardcore Zen" and "Sit Down and Shut Up."  I am reading them out of order, as "Zen Dipped in Karma Wrapped in Chocolate" is his third book.  But that's the way I approach the universe - out of order, chaotic and curious.  Now where's my poodle?