This is a streaming
of consciousness of miscellaneous tidbits of my life, in no
particular order or design.
My work and life, up
to now, has been very other-directed. My past writing has
been objective with a distinctly scientific bent. I examine
spotlight on me in this journal is something unaccustomed.
Today, I'll indulge
in yet another exercise in self-absorption, although Socrates
would beg to differ. He seems to think that
self-examination makes a life worth living.
unexamined life is not worth living."
first and middle names have the same meaning: Beloved.
Names are words with meanings. Words have power.
And indeed, I have been very loved in this life. Consider
twice before naming a child, Cameron. It means "Crooked
to check out what your name means.
I love everything purple,
except for bruises. Purple sweatshirts, purple wine, purple
grapes, purple grape juice, purple Easter eggs, purple eggplants, purple
pens and ink, purple
boas, purple candles, purple
crayons, purple fonts, purple
in writing, the book, The
Color Purple, purple
poetry, and purple
poi. Poi is our staple, our staff of life, so
if I even hear a little hint of "ee-yoo" to
poi, I will personally reach out of your computer screen and
tweak your nose. You don't make fun of our poi, and I
won't tease you about your bland potato, rice, bread, or
What's your favorite
color? Click here
to check out its psychology.
I'm 5'2", which is average-sized in my
homeland of Hawai`i. Here on the mainland, I am considered
euphemistically petite. Short. I never think of
myself as short. When I stand next to my hanai (adopted)
5'10" daughter, I think, "Wow, she's tall."
Past shoulder length, my hair
is long. With Cher, Jane Seymour and Jacqueline Bisset
as rare exceptions, yes, a woman over
40 with long hair is uncommon. I wear my hair up
at work in a chignon, and
at home, in a ponytail,
braid, or flowing loose.
I'm turning into my
Grandmother Satsuma; when she freed her silky hair
from its hair clasp, it tumbled down in waves past her waist. At 82, Grandmother's
hair was more black than silver. So with me.
hair is raven black with a few silver threads,
these days. My mother, on the other hand, turned hoary
in her 30s. So I don't complain, much.
My eyes are brown.
Dark brown, almost black. Maybe I'll go bleached blonde one day with blue
contacts . I'll be sure to have more fun. Just kidding.
I don't weigh myself. I think I'm about
10 -15 pounds heavier than I was when I got married (100 lbs in
1974). Given my druthers, I'd rather be the size 4 I once was
then. I'm now a solid size
6. My metabolism is slowing down. Lately, I've been tempted to down one of my dog's thyroid
pills and see if it will rev things up.
I've broken one bone in my life.
I broke my clavicle (collarbone) in a fall from the sofa to
the floor as an infant. I have no recall of the incident, but the
fall may explain why I am different from my siblings.
I have a
double-jointed pinkie. I can arch one eyebrow, wiggle
my right ear, and roll my tongue and twist it to the right. I can write
up-side-down and mirror-write. Doing so came naturally
and effortlessly. Must be that fall.
What stupid human tricks can you
do? Click here
for some very stupid human tricks.
As did Mom, my nose and cheeks were sprinkled with freckles as a little girl.
Of course, I hated them then, and tried my best to bleach them out
with lemon juice. They've faded
over the years, and now I miss them.
As did Dad, I had zits as a
teen. I had so hoped to inherit my mothers's
flawless, porcelain skin. Instead, for awhile
there, my skin's texture resembled that of a Nestle crunch
bar. Ick. My dad comforted me
with: "One day, you're going to be happy you inherited
my oily skin." Father Knows Best. At 50, my skin is the
clearest and smoothest that it's ever been. Better
late than never.
I first got my (brown, tortoise shell) glasses
in 9th grade. They were extremely dorky looking. Myopic, I squinted or used
the pinhole trick to
avoid wearing them. I was fitted for contact lenses when I was 23.
It was a liberating, momentous event, and I've worn contacts ever since.
These days, thanks to a very talented optical dispenser, I like my glasses just as
well as my contacts. I was fitted with a stylish pair of Seiko titanium frames
from Japan. With beautiful sculptural lines, frames
have been elevated to a fine
I almost died by
immolation by a lava flow in 1955.
As a child, I almost drowned
twice, once at high tide, outside our beach home, and the second
time, in high surf, as I was being certified as a
Loving to climb trees -- tall ones, I've almost
fallen to my death several times.
I was a passenger in the
death seat of a brand-new
sports car that was "totalled"; thanks to a
fastened seat belt, I walked away with a
minor slit wrist, an injury sustained after the impact when
I pulled my hand out of the shattered glass all about me.
I was a passenger on a twin-engine
plane that had to make an emergency landing when one of the engines conked out.
instrument panel indicated a possible fire. The young, skilled
pilot brought it down without a crash.
I am most grateful to
my guardian angels, who hover close.
My body bears
The dramatic scar from the cut on the inner wrist from the car
accident, which I suspect makes those who have tried it
themselves to wonder what angst drove me to slit my wrist. I
abhor incisions, blood and gore; I would never go that
A burn scar on my right index finger acquired
as childhood punishment for a crime I did not commit.
smallpox vaccination scar on my right arm. I just
learned that vaccination is of no present help, as it is effective
for only ten years.
am not a collector ; in fact, I am an anti-collector. But I
have friends and acquaintances who think otherwise, and I have
large collections of teddy bears
and angels, mostly gifts.
I don't want any
more "things" -- you know: the knickknacks, rickrack,
and dust-collectors. They are a burden to me as I will not
throw out a gift laden with sentimental value. Yet, I dislike
clutter and do not want a bigger house to store all this
"stuff." Besides, Zen simplicity is good
My favorite gifts to
give and to receive are books, bookstore gift certificates,
experiences (trips, tickets), being taken out to
lunch or even better, being invited for a home-cooked meal.
I have a strong
aversion to all phones.
I finally yielded to a cell phone,
just in case I need to make that last farewell call to DH, as
those on 9-11 did.
It would be a good last thing to do: call and let your most
dearly beloved how much you love them before you fly away.
I love studying, reading, writing, and
thinking. I am in hog heaven at this moment.
I am an equalist. God doesn't play
favorites with His kids. I was, however, blessed with a
privileged life, but I know full well that this does not place me
above any other.
My favorite artists are Michelangelo
Buonarroti, van Gogh, and Picasso. I love the creative
process, and because I am so very visual, I especially love the
I have had a bountiful experience with
Nature. I love Earth's elements -- air, water, fire, earth,
metals, and plant life. I especially enjoy breathing fresh
air. Water is my favorite beverage. I do my part
in stewarding and protecting our natural resources, as well as
helping others protect themselves from the ravages of a
compromised environment, i.e. a depleting ozone layer.
worn makeup since I was 16, but I've tapered off considerably. I
must be getting wiser in my old age.
"Life is a Gift."
P.S. If you would
like to share a portion of yourself with words, in response to
this journal entry, you may do it here.
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