Where the hell is Lydia?

The title for this blog page was inspired by this video, which is still the most inspiring video I have ever seen since I first saw it a few years ago:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zlfKdbWwruY&p=030C50D4F2056DD5&playnext=1&index=2 

As you may have noticed, I haven't been writing much lately. So, I'll have to catch you all up. All hundreds of you, I am made to understand!! I just found out my little blog was being read by more than just two of my closest friends. I can't reveal how that information came to me or I would have to kill myself. I'll just say that I'm terribly honored! Thank you all for your readership!

Let's begin with where I started on this blog, widowed and desolate, and compare it to today, wherein I am totally blissed out.

It started with the discovery that grief and bliss are almost the same thing. Marie Ponsot, featured in the last 5 minutes of this News Hour for November 30, 2009, introduced herself this way.  "I'm Marie Ponsot and I'm 88 years old which is very entertaining." She wrote this poem:

Bliss and Grief

No one
is here
right now.

Everybody (including a psychiatrist I saw for a minute, and including myself) assumed I was nuts because I was in grief/depression/anxiety, nothing new for me.  I've been known to have "episodes."  But just as almost everything always did my whole life, it felt like something "other" to me. David had been my buffer from the world for 35 years.  I didn't know how to create buffers for myself.  I didn't even know who I was by myself. I didn't know how to BE by myself. And that caused a lot of anxiety!  Oh yeah, and by the way, I really missed him so I was inconsolable!  But I had no choice but to find out who I am and grow.  Which really blissed me out.  And ever since roommate Ted's comment at the bottom of my July 8 entry that he thought I was autistic, I haven't been able to get it out of my mind.

I finally did an internet search. Holy crap. I got answers to questions I never even knew I had. For example, why boys rejected me in high school. But they didn't.  I was basing the rejection of all boys on that guy staring at me for 3 years who tried to talk to me but I just couldn't speak.  I wanted to kiss him but I couldn’t move out of my box.  He finally got a girlfriend in our senior year. She bit him on his shoulder during curtain call of the senior play. Of course in my teenage angst I took this as a total rejection. But he just discovered a bit earlier than I did that what we both needed was someone aggressive enough to reach in and pull us out.

As I was telling this story to my friend, Ann, tonight, she stopped me here and asked if that's what David did? I told her yes, and charmed her with this story of how we met: I was sitting at a table surrounded on most sides by towers of books, and he bent down, found a hole in the books, put his face in my face and asked me, "Who are you and what are you doing?"

It explained why I hid so many of my strange behaviors even from those closest to me. My brother didn't know that I thrashed myself to sleep even though we shared a room until I was 6. (I thrashed into my 20s, and intensely rocked into my 40s, but still rock to this day.) If my mother didn't say things in the exact way that I could process and understand them I would go into a rage that mystified her, and would bang against the wall screaming.   I did have normal tantrums as a toddler, but I remember thinking even at the time "what is wrong with me??  Why am I like this?"  I hid from my husband that I was in an autistic episode for a decade. I hid it from everyone, including my employer.

At this point Ann looked at me thoughtfully and said she remembered working with me a long time ago and I rocked.

Here we are a long time ago (I'm guessing early 90s), before her dreads!  All of us in this picture are still working in Doc Centers, but in all different places and cities now.

Here she is at our table, last Friday, while having a snack before a play, and we caught up for the year (she just got back from Bali!).

We were at this playhouse:

She wants me to write a book like this: explaining my life with flashbacks interspersed with how it is now. I just realized that's pretty much what my blog is. How convenient! I've already started my book.

I took this opportunity to confirm with Ann that I really am what Robby (more on him later) calls an "other" and that she is a "normie." She confirmed that she really always just felt normal, and that I probably really am an "other," and that blissed me out even more.  I guess I had doubted it because my brother couldn't really confirm it.  When Ann confirmed it, my doubt vanished.  It was a moment.

It was like breathing for the first time. It made me whole. I was finally given the key to my life. It explained why it had always been easier for me to write rather than talk. It explained everything and gave me a connection to the world. It showed me that even I fit. Even I am a teacher. I teach by inspiration. I have inspired people my whole life. But the attention that brought me as a child was unbearable. I couldn't deal with it and shut myself in and people thought I was cold and aloof and quirky. Unless they "got" me. Guess who "got" me? Other autistics. The "others." Almost all my friends are autistic or disordered in some way or quirky or oddballs. But Ann wasn't. How come? Why was she my friend? I only knew her as a colleague of my industry, a member of girl bands with names like "Guitar Boy," a world traveler and a white girl that wears dreadlocks (as if that wouldn't be reason enough), but what I hadn't known was that her degree was in psychology, and she had worked with "others" in the past. And she could easily see what I was talking about. And confirmed that THIS IS BIG! (her words). She pointed out that she had never heard anybody else have a similar realization about their life before, and probably never will again. Thanks Ann! And, thanks Ted for pointing it out in the first place!

Now I see that rather than the pathetic life I had always thought I lead that I actually had lived a dream life. I mean that kind of literally. I lived my life in a dream, because I just wasn't connecting to "real" life. Ok, so I was a nervous, terrified wreck my whole life, starting in first grade when I was terrified that I would never learn to read. I was in a state of anxiety almost the whole year. I still recall the moment I finally processed it. The reason I recall that moment was because I was expecting to learn "A," then "B," and so on, the way I had been taught. But that wasn't what happened. I simply "got it" all at once. And I realized I would be alright and that I was able to process information. But truthfully, I put a Hollywood ending on this paragraph. That's what SHOULD have happened. What really happened was I was an anxious wreck my whole life, and hid a huge side of my life from those closest to me, which makes me understand why autism was confused with schizophrenia and anxiety disorders in its early days.

I am only now realizing that that had happened, that somehow deep inside me I always knew things would be alright, that it was ok for me to live inside my dream.  That was what I was meant to teach the world.  It's ok for EVERYBODY to do that. I wanted to have great adventures, and you can't have great adventures without creating struggles for yourself. And boy, did I struggle. I struggled so hard that I didn't see until now that as I dreamed, so it came to be.  I have come home like a long lost traveler, expecting to find the place just trashed, but lo and behold, it's a dream!  I've come home to a dream life!  Yeah, I'm blissed out!

Why I'm blisssed out:

My beautiful Lu. We finally got rid of the fleas! I tossed her old scratchers, and her new scratcher is her favoritest one ever (I think the catnip that came with it is really fresh).  Here she is falling asleep by it:

And asleep:

A friend's cat (he named this picture "SoftPillow"):

Daughter Nadia, whose life is an endless Arabian tales that she won't let me blog about.

Barb and her little dog, too:

Sakura, my lovely Chinese "granddaughter:"

Robby, my own personal chauffer, computer tech and Asperger's delight. He used to look like this:

But now he is growing his hair for http://www.locksoflove.org/. How cool is that?

Thalia did also. She came to visit me for the first time in 11 years last June. Here she is with her cousin (the beautician that cut her hair)…

 and here she is after she cut it:

Thalia was my only friend in high school, and I was her only friend.

Here we are in the late 80s with our brothers.

Speaking of brothers, mine has always been my hero:

And, where the hell have I been? Well, visiting with Thalia (above) in June. And there was 

roommate Ted's 61st birthday party...




















(hence Sweet 16 (61 backwards, get it?) decorations.

And Jim's 70th:

And general frivolity with this whole autistic crew (Ted and his sistahs):

My firm celebrated their first 10 years in this location and had a gala event.  Well, as gala as this economy would allow.  Anyway, our party host made photo displays of the firm's first 10 years, and this picture of the Doc Center crew on Halloween was in the display (I'm the gypsy).  It's from around 8 years ago:

Judy, found these lovely angels on her property:

And we just celebrated August Turkey Day at Georgann's house. That's the one day a year she cooks meat.  I've known Geo since 3rd grade. Here we are in 1986 with "our" brother and the Golightlys, who I also really, really heart and are my forever family.  I would have shown you an earlier picture of Geo, but she would have killed me.

Here she is with husband Miguel.

And we'll end this page with her beautiful back. The skirt is from Guatemala.

Flea attack!!

We have a flea infestation!  Here's where poor Lu slept last night!  How comfortable does that look??

The Document Center Sees the Light

This is the first time I ever wrote a blog post as it was happening!


I’m having such a trippy morning! I walked into the document center and the lights were blazing! I felt like I was walking onto a movie set. I had much to say about it, but G, my co worker who has a sign at his station that says, “Mouth Open Already a Mistake,” remained silent for a long time before he finally said in his dry way, “Oh, so it was M (our night operator) who was pushing for this?”  I took that as his way of agreeing it was a bit much.


I rushed to log on, as an email came in from attorney GB: “Can I get this ASAP, i.,e. before the other project I sent down? Thanks.” As soon as my computer was up I emailed him, “This shall be done in the GB Department.” His reply (copying his secretary): “Have nameplates prepared and attached to a desk dedicated to me alone.” My reply, “Uh... I would try to think of a witty response, but a GB rush just came in!!” His response, “Jsut work, baby, just work......” (again, copying his secretary).


Then T, an entertainment attorney, popped in and said, “Whoa!!” I said, “I know, huh? It really is striking, right? It’s like walking onto a movie set. How do you like it?” He said, “Well, it doesn’t really fit the mood I’m used to, G’s classical music…dim lights...ambiance...”


Then the tech manager came in and said, “Wow!” I told him I feel so lit up now, and he said, “yeah, but you can see now!” I guess he would take the ergonomic point of view.


Then secretary J came in to kibbitz. “Are you guys working hard today?” she asked coyly, in other words, “my, those are bright lights.” I told her yes, I’m working hard, and I keep getting interrupted by people coming in and commenting on the lights!” She started talking about putting a pad on the lights, like a case for an ipod. I asked her, “did you just suggest padding the lights?” “She said, “Yes,” so I then asked, “What have you been smoking this morning?”  As the three of us cracked up G was inspired to finally open his mouth and offer melting down the bulbs and coloring them. J then contributed, “maybe I’m seeing the light of heaven, and I’m walking into the light.” I told her we should prepare for becoming a very popular place.


Next K, previous entertainment attorney T’s buddy, came in, looked around, and asked: “What’s different in here?” Long pause while I tried to figure out if he was joking.  He wasn't joking. He finally exclaimed, “Oh, the lights are on!” I cracked up and asked incredulously, "You just noticed? He said, “Yeah! I noticed!” I was kind of gaping at him, as he asserted, “I’m observant!  Extremely observant!  That’s what you were gonna say, right?” “Uh, no, actually, I was going to say you’re a little slow!” “That too!” he said, as he turned and left.


11:30: Finished GB’s job, and sent this email: “I would have gotten this to you sooner, but everyone keeps coming in here to comment on how bright the lights are in here now. I feel like I'm on display in a disco!!” G sent him a "DONE" email on his other job at the exact same time, so I told him he will be in hog heaven.  G told me that I will be in hog heaven because he’s taking “The Form.” This was a request to revise an Internal Revenue Code form, that we had been waiting a couple of days to receive in FedEx. I was dreading the arrival of that Fed Ex because I really didn’t want to have to do that form. So, I asked G, “Oh, the Fed Ex came in?” He said, “no, they pdf’ed it (meaning scanned it to Adobe and emailed it) which they could have done in the first place, and which I just decided not to complicate things by mentioning.” G has just been cracking me up all morning. He seriously lives with “keep mouth closed” as his mantra. So, I told him he was right, I was in heaven, and he was so good to me, and he said, “you only say that because it’s true.”


Well, my rush was finally done, I could make myself some tea and toast. I toss off fixing tea and toast as if it is an every day thing, but actually, this is the first time I have ever done it. In fact, I found out for the first time today that there is a toaster at work - and I don’t even have tea at home. But since I had nothing to eat at home but soy cream cheese and stale bread, I brought that and found some of my favorite jelly in the fridge at work and made tea, and it is a delightful breakfast (it is now noon), and I think I may just do this every day from now on!


Met my stoner friend in the kitchen and asked him if he’d been in the doc center yet. He hadn’t, and I told him it will be quite an experience.  As we down the hall he commented “oh yeah, wow!” just upon seeing the glow emanating from our door.


G just left on his lunch break with “try not to fall asleep.” He walked out the door, to return within a moment, climb up on his desk, reach into the lighting fixture and unscrew one of the bulbs. He came back a few moments later, pleased: “Oh, that makes a big difference! It’s like you can walk in here now and not feel like you’re getting hit with a hammer.”


More as this day develops!


Oops! I just spilled tea all over my keyboard!  And my chair and my clothes!  And tea kept dripping out of my keyboard as I held it upside down and banged on it.  And it still works.  It's a miracle!  It has got to be this light.  This divine light searing our eyeballs shines upon us and blesses all.

My “sensible eating plan with lapses as needed” and 5 minutes a day exercise program is working!

My back went out pretty bad recently and I started seeing a chiropractor in my new ritzy neighborhood.  During one of his weeks of treatments he casually tossed off the reason I was now crippled was my lack of core strength.  My mother had me in toe shoes by the age of 3 - you would think the idea of  core strength would have become ingrained in me, and I guess it had, because I freaked out!! Much to the chagrin of my new chiropractor, who had taken no note of what he had just said. I couldn't believe that I had so little core strength I couldn't hold up my own skeleton.

Up until that point my abhorrence to exercise overcame any motivation to do it.  But the idea of being crippled in my old age scared me, and inspired me to maintain core strength.  Of course, I’m not one to exceed my inspirations.  There was no way I was going to force myself to go on daily walks. That hasn't worked for years now. Or making myself go to the gym room daily. I have chastised myself on many an occasion. "Self," I say, "you are paying for that gym room, all you have to do is walk down there and use the equipment." I forced myself to once or twice, but just couldn't get into doing it every day. If I try actually committing myself to a strict daily exercise program all that ever happens is I feel guilty for failing to accomplish it.

I finally asked myself, "Self, what could you commit to?" That was the most brilliant question. It was like God slapped me upside the head and said, "THIMK, you idiot! Just do whatever you can commit to." I thought about all the things I had successfully ever committed to doing daily in my life and there is only one thing. Brushing my teeth. There are days I don't shower or get dressed, but a day I don't brush my teeth is a rare day, usually involving jet lag. Why? Because of how terrified I was that I would lose my teeth, and I have been going to the same dentist for 30 years because he taught me how to take care of my teeth so I wouldn't lose them. Here is my dentist and hygienist playing basketball after my appointment (I'm always the last appointment on Saturdays because I'm just not a morning person and they close the office at 1 pm).

But I digress. What could I commit to doing every day after I brush my teeth? For a while I thought I could commit to doing these great exercise programs I have recorded on my DVR. The belly dancing classes are yummy!!! But no, I couldn't commit to a whole half hour. I tried, didn't work. It didn't take too long before I came up with the answer of what I could easily commit to. I could commit to testing myself every day to make sure I had some core strength left at all.  “Can I still do 10 or 20 sit-ups?  Good.  I’m done with my exercise routine.”  Oh, and I’m talking about really wimpy sit-ups. Truthfully, those wimpy sit-ups kill me every morning. But I have been doing them daily without fail. WITHOUT FAIL! THAT MEANS I HAVE SUCCEEDED! HOORAY FOR ME!!

I think some call this depression.  My roommate thinks I’m an undiagnosed very high functioning autistic.  I think I may be an undiscovered genius that should write a diet and exercise book.  Because today a co-worker asked me if I was losing weight and told me I look good!  Holy crap! It's working! HOORAY FOR ME!!

World's Fair 1964 New York

Sakura, my Chinese penpal asked me “Do you want to go to the EXPO?”  I asked her, “What expo are you talking about?”  She emailed back:  “You don't know World Expo?! It is held in Shanghai, China this year.”  This is what I emailed back:

No, I really didn't know anything about the World Expo.  In fact, the only world expo I ever attended was the World's Fair in NY, in the summer of 1964.  I was 13 and my junior high school took a field trip to it.  Honestly, all I remember about it was that a new boy had just started school and was a real hunk.  All the girls were smitten with him, including me, not only because he was awesomely cute but because he was from California, and so was I.  Although I was born in NY, California had become my home.  My mother had just died and my father brought us back to NY to be with his family, which was good for him, but my whole life was uprooted and I had not made any new friends yet.

So this new kid starts school and ends up sitting next to me in home room!  I thought for sure I would be able to get to know him now, but no, all his attention was on a girl that sat a few seats in front of us that he had a huge crush on.  He was always staring at her and wanting to be with her.  Well, she didn't like him, and asked me to stay with her at the fair and keep him away from her!  So, kind of the first friend I made hated this guy that I really liked and I was caught in the middle.  It was a very dramatic day for me, really liking this guy and having to keep him away from this other girl, who I was really glad to be making friends with.  :)  I can’t remember a single exhibition.

So , it never occurred to me to go to another world expo. Until you came along and asked me about it.  I apparently learned nothing on my school field trip.  Except that maybe not every boy I like will like me back and that friends can come to you in strange ways.  :)

Now that you bring it up, I think the exhibits are probably fascinating and mind expanding, and now I'm wondering why I don't travel the world and go to every single one of them?  In fact, I think I might be a volunteer for them when I retire.  What a great way to make new friends and see the world!  You may have given me a new interest in life, and one that totally fits in with my love of drawing, writing and being a general ambassador of world goodwill.  :)

I guess this is what penpals are all about.  They make the world smaller and make you realize how much wonderful stuff is in it.  :) 

I just googled “Expo 2010 Shanghai China” and the website is really beautiful:http://en.expo2010.cn/

And here is a video of what I apparently missed on my field trip in mythic times:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gPHbVY-Kq_A