The Fabulous John Travolta

A celebrity who has been around since I was aware of celebrities, John Travolta. I know, I know, many people think of Scientology, or the homosexual rumors or the horrible fact his son died, but to me he is just fabulous.

For awhile I wondered if he simply had a dance clause in all of his movies. The obvious Grease and Saturday Night Fever, ok, but what about Urban Cowboy (alright, it was a country-western/bull-riding bit of dysfunction), Michael, Pulp Fiction and of course, Hairspray. Want to know a secret? I still think he is fabulous! No, not that way, just overall. He's kept a pretty solid career going for decade after decade and overall has been in far less scandals than days Lindsay Lohan has served in jail.

I truly became a life long fan of Travolta's fabulousness in the movie "Face Off." Something about the scene in the church with the circle and Nicholas Cage and my favorite line, "Wheee, what a predicament!" Crazy? Just fabulous.

Faking Fabulous

Sometimes a moment really isn't all that great, in fact, sometimes on a Monday morning after only sleeping about four hours or so it's really hard to face the day. Sometimes we simply have to do things we don't like or want to do like get up before the dawn, get ready and drive for just under an hour to work. It's not the work, or even the people at work, but really, can it all just be done Tuesday - Thursday about noon - four? That would be a lot more convenient for me. And so, in the spirit of fabulous I try to fake it at first hoping the mood will just catch on and stick. For the most part, it works. Well, enough to make it bearable.

Don't Mind if I Do

Typically, I spend about 10 hours a day in a seated position between driving to work and time at my desk in the office. Many reports have made it perfectly clear that much time in the chair is bad for everything else; the heart, overall health, blood pressure, cholesterol and quite honestly, the actual butt. Secretarial spread anyone?

And so, whenever I am out of work, I try to stand, walk or move in general. However, with day after day turning into week after week, if I am not training for my annual marathon walk, I know I have little stamina or strength for being on my feet.

Today I hit the floor running, switching furniture from the dining room to the living room. Cleaning, clearing, moving, and simply staying on my feet. Like an athlete, after hours I could feel my strength fade, my motivation wane and all I want to do is simply sit down. Fight through it, just a little more, and the Super Bowl snacks are prepared. Platters of veggies, shrimp, make the beef kabobs, grill them and the ribs, put the chips and dips on bowls, yes, all this trouble for just the four of us and finally, finally, it is time for the Anthem, the coin toss and the kick off. Make room on the couch for a well deserved and fabulous break. It's not my turn to do the dishes.

Those All Important First Fabulous Sips

A day off from work seems like a little bit of heaven all by itself, but add to that the lack of the annoying pulsating buzz of the alarm clock, the ability to stay in bed under the warm comforter as the sun slowly rises and it truly is heaven on earth. Believe it or not the morning can get even better.



The dog goes outside while the house is still and quiet. Although it is a little cool from turning the heat down overnight, it feels warmer once the curtains are opened and the gentle beams push through the front windows. The dog returns and a gentle tapping can be heard as her nails click against the wood floor. She sits and waits for a bit of breakfast and yes, a small splash of milk although she is now five years old.



Water is poured into the miracle electric machine, the click of a button and a magical process begins. The reserved, favorite, for the weekend and days off only, larger mug is put on the counter. It has a chip and used to have a mate but still, it is the vessel of weekend comfort. Within minutes the mixture of caffeine, water, a bit of sugar and a splash of milk and the fabulous first moments of the day have begun. For an extra dose of luxury, the mug is brought back to bed and the weekend can start with a bit of whisper in slow motion rather than the frenzy that is the work week. Gently, leisurely, the body greets the morning with little agenda and no sense of urgency.

The Fabulous and Sometimes Mysterious Language of Mothers and Daughters

One long standing family tradition was my grandparents coming to my parents house for Sunday dinners from my childhood through early adulthood. The memories of these times range from simply fabulous times to life lessons learned and some hopefully not repeated. Of course the stories range from belly laughing funny to sternly serious and all emotions in-between. Those times come flooding back when I least expect, like today when I received an email from my mother.

A million years ago, when fancy telephones were cordless and cable television was readily available in the more urban areas (it hadn't come to my parents house yet), my grandmother unpacked her weekly recycled paper bag of treasures on to the dining room table. Books, cancelled stamps from Germany, a Pepperidge Farm German Chocolate cake, and coupons were laid out while she squinted and smoked. The cigarette ash was over two inches long and she could talk with a fairly thick German accent while the cigarette stayed stashed into the corner of her mouth, blinking, squinting and never dropping the ash.

It was quiet for whatever reason. No one had spoken, no stories were left unfinished when she said, "You know, that building used to have four doors on it."

Quiet pause. We looked at each other, my sister and I especially and I remember thinking, "What the HECK is she talking about????" My mother seemed to stand perfectly still before jumping on board my grandmother's thought train, "Oh, yeah." My mother then explained my grandmother was referring to the "old roller skating rink" that was being transformed into a new business. For years, we talked about this moment and every time we laughed about how random it seemed.

Today, when I returned from lunch I checked my email and this is what it said, "What was the name of that book....the corner of something and something?"

That's all it said.

We had no previous conversation about this and though I was taken aback for a second, I Googled it and was able to respond, "The Hotel at the Corner of Bitter and Sweet?" "Yes," replied, "That's it. Thanks."

It's only fair to also admit, I have already done this to my children and while they are male, I think this magical language does translate from mother's to children. I have texted or called them to find out the name of a movie, actor or song (Hey, what's the name of that 50 cent song with the lyric doo doo doo the underdog's on top?) that I simply can't remember, as if I have passed my mind and memories on to them. Perhaps in a way I have and it's fabulous.

Fabulous Morale

Armed with team jerseys, crock pots and various chili dips, people from the combined departments I work with gathered together and took over a conference room for our first ever indoor tailgate party. Pulled pork, fried chicken, empanadas, pasta salad with chicken, a variety of chips and a table of desserts ranging from home made cheese cake to store bought chocolate chip cookies were all part of the buffet. Many prepared heaping plates and with a bit of surprise most of the food was consumed. Mostly we sat with the people we know best but felt some kind of workplace camaraderie by sharing a cultural tradition and talking a bit about the upcoming game. Well, really at our table we talked more about the commercials - past and present. These mini-events are designed to get our departments socializing a bit and improving employee morale and so they are sometimes accompanied by structured activities but this was more free flowing. Next time though we may at least show some clips of the Best of the Superbowl Ads in the background. Personally, I was missing any one of the famous NFL theme songs as background noise and yes, though they are not in the game at all, I wore my husband's classic and fabulous J-E-T-S jersey.

www.youtube.com/watch?v=37-AlmNDESg&feature=fvwrel

Sometimes Reality is Just Better

On a dreaming streak again... the night before last I was busy preparing for a 30 day trip to the moon with my husband and mother. We would be launching the white pod that Tony from I Dream of Jeannie landed in the Atlantic. It was waiting to be loaded in my back yard and though I tried to ask my husband a million practical questions: how will we be able to pack all of the water 3 people will need for 30 days into that little pod, how will we launch it, what about food, how will we get back? He continuously responded something to the effect that it would all work out and everything will be fine. I could not convince him to the cancel the trip. I woke before the launch.

Last night/this morning - bad dream. Nightmare really. Being attacked from behind as I am going down a set of stairs, having my arms pinned at my sides, helpless until I retaliate then I am chased. A violent exchange ensues until I find the one person I think will help who simply wants to comfort me rather than take action. Frustration and disappointment. And then, although it is the ridiculously early morning hours, I am awake and happy simply knowing it was not real. I was fine. In fact, I was fabulous.