Regrets

You know that running list that starts ticking along when you try meditation, prayer, or sleep? Sometimes it is searching for the name of that guy that dated that girl who lived near you twenty years ago. Other times it is the list of all that you need to do as soon as you are finished this meditation that was item 14 on your to do list. (And for meditators - yes, I meant for that to be funny.)

And then there's the regrets. The medley of "I wish I had not done thats". Of all the useless lists I run in my head, that is the most useless of all. I wore the dress. It looked like crap. The photos prove it - why do I need to go through that all again?

Here is my latest list keeping me from spiritual enlightenment. Hope it helps clear out yours.

File name: What was I thinking?

Contents: Herbert Marcuse's Eros and Civilization . Death by snobbish, irrelevant drivel can happen so much more pleasantly in other ways. At least I bought it used. But why am I STILL reading it?

The Arthritis walk. 3 miles on a Saturday morning? I've been having trouble after the second block. Brainstorming graceful ways to show up, stride a bit, and spend the rest of the day on my tail. 7 days of "training" (read: napping) to go.

Not sending that Pho back. Tripe is still tripe, even when you move it to the side of the bowl.

Those fancy vitamins keep making me nauseous.

The lost, great spiritual discipline book. This explains why I am stuck with Marcuse.

Time not spent in organization, decluttering, and filing efforts. Must attack office files. Must do Spring cleaning. Must hit garden like a yard ninja. (Begin list of the 462 other things I'd rather do here.)

The pinwheel quilt requires 2,500+ pieces And I don't figure this out until after I finished piece number 314.

Missing (because it makes me feel better to run a list of close calls on regret):

Resisted that $30 Easter bonnet on Monument Ave. Probably a rare case of haberdashed wisdom on my part.

Resisted that $60 Ikea kitchen island and shouldn't have. Must have for the sewing room. Oh, drats - that means it's a regret.

You see what I am working against here on that whole enlightenment quest?

Hell, Redemption and the Arthritis Fundraiser

There are times in one's life when a person is extra grateful for friends.

Like when I fell and broke my hand at my son's elementary school and a few friends suggested I lay off the 10 AM happy hours.

Or when I walk into a room and a friend says, "Now that is an outfit only you would invent."

Or the friend who called me "Crash" for years after I was rammed in a bad accident. He started with that nickname before I left the hospital.

Wait.

Those are not times when I am grateful for my friends. And admitting that I fell stone cold sober was a bit shaming.

But TODAY is a time when I am grateful for the whole motley bunch. Today I checked my arthritis website and I had raised a tidy sum of money by sweet people who said sweet things. Today I am grateful for them all.

But there is a bit of a curveball to these kind-hearted, generous types. With a few lovely exceptions who will be shown special prizes by Vanna White later, most of them responded to the following email:

Subject: I limp. Give me money.

Howdy, friends!

I've been trying to think of clever, fundraisy ways to say this. Here are a few outtakes:

*In this economy you can save your last ten dollars for some gasoline and a taco, or you can sponsor me in a charity walk!

*I have a crippling disease. Wanna' give the Arthritis Foundation some cash?

*I lost a poker game with an Arthritis Foundation fundraiser and owe her $500. Please give 10 or she will hit me in my swollen arthritic knee.

And my personal favorite:

*Even though I don't believe in hell, you will probably go there if you don't pony up at least 10 bucks for my arthritis walk. $100 and that whole drunken incident of infamy is completely forgotten by God and everyone.

So there you have it. I'm doing an arthritis walk because I have taken more than my share of benefits from the Arthritis Foundation this year with my crappy health. They expect me to both raise money in this economy and walk. For miles. In the morning.

And people say the Pope is unreasonable.

Here's my link if you are willing to save me from myself:

https://www.kintera.org/faf/donorReg/donorPledge.asp?ievent=274720&lis=0&kntae274720=C99C956A66C44097B008455A1CB52A9C&supId=78816178

Catchy link, huh? Just rolls off the tongue, doesn't it?

And if you would rather boogie: arthritis fundraiser at Shenanigan's on Thursday April 16 from 6PM until they throw us out.

Thanks! Hope this is one of the better appeals for money you get today.

Alane

So, that is what they got and the sweet punkins started sending money by the fistfuls. But here's the thing, several have mentioned that the clincher was the line about that whole drunken incident of infamy coming off the books. And they have followed with some confessions that would make The Lady Chablis blush.

Which is why I am extending my fundraising for this event. I'm sure there are some of you out there needing to get some guilt out of the way for some wee indiscretions of the distant past, or yesterday. Turns out that sponsoring a hobbled minister in a charity walk can get that done for you. Follow that link, help out the good people of the Arthritis Foundation, and use me as a character reference for that next job application.

Having a Party

Short version - Come to an Arthritis Foundation Fundraiser on April 16th from 6PM until you are too tired to stay any longer. It is at Shenanigan's Eatery and Pub on MacArthur Ave. in Richmond's northside.

Long version - There will be a band, a bar (with non-alcoholic choices as well), and nice people like me asking you for money. Three gals who love music, love to dance are throwing this. Oh yeah, we also all live with Rheumatoid Arthritis, a crippling auto immune disease that destroys connective tissue throughout our bodies. No, this is not the achy knee from a football injury kind of arthritis. But should you have that kind of arthritis (osteoarthritis) we are raising money for research for you, too! Who loves you, baby?

Longer version - Can't come? Go to my website and sponsor me for an arthritis foundation walk in a week.

Yes, it does seem kind of cruel to make people with deteriorating joints walk for money. But we like to think of it as - hey, I'm still walking! Plus I've got my trusty canine sidekick, Chicken, assisting me with the walking part.

I'm trying to get 50 people to give $10 or more each as my goal. The idea is that through donating, 50 more people will know what RA (rheumatoid arthritis) is and may NONE of you get it. (And if you've already got it... come to the party, I'll buy you a soda since we can't drink on these @&#$ meds.)

Thanks for your help. Come out and dance with us on Thursday night!

Rocking in the Lean Times

I was born for this economy: love coupons, enjoy tracking spending on a spreadsheet, capable of gardening as long as we can survive on radishes and cherry tomatoes. But most of all...

I am crafty. And I am passing it on.

The Little Man and I entered a challenge at our local quilt store in honor of our quilting buddy Phoebe's birthday. I did an Amish pattern on acid and tricked it out with hand-embroidered Rilke. He did a pattern from the latest issue of Quilter's Newsletter and tricked it out with a Gwen Stefani inspired title: "The Ship's Called Bananas!" (We are each holding the other person's quilt in the photos.)

And we won some prizes. Unlike many quilters, there has been a lot of fist pumping, high fives, and jumping naked on a bed in celebration. (That would be the Little Man.)

We both have already spent our prize gift certificates in our minds. I asked my husband to comment on our own "quilting adventure" for this blog and he said, "It isn't easy living in the shadow of two crafting giants."

(What a great guy. We need to make him a pillow out of an old favorite sweater.)

For those not on Facebook, get ready for the Easter premiere of the family fashion line. Think Von Trapp family if they lived in Charleston, South Carolina. And members of church, wait until you see our sexton's new haircut! He is morally opposed to paying for a haircut, but he was about 18 months past due for one so I chopped away in my kitchen last night. I'll try to upload the photos along with the Von Trapp tribute after Easter, but I don't want to spoil the surprise.

For my next economy trick I will replace the billions stolen by a certain Ponzi loving financier through making homemade pasta, brewing my own beer, and hosting potlucks. (If only...)