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Are you blessed? Fabulous!
Published: 12/8/2010 12:04 PM
Last Modified: 12/8/2010 12:07 PM


This photo has absolutely nothing to do with my blog -- kinda like the rambling third-from-the-bottom paragraph of the blog itself.

Happy Hump Day! I'm in a brighter mood than usual for the mid-week, so I figured I'd holler at y'all now in case someone drops a work-related bombshell on me in the afternoon, and the Eeyore in me creeps up. Poor Eeyore. I wish my voice were that deep.

Anyway, so I went to the gym this morning (probably why I'm in a better mood), my foot's feeling better (not hobbling like the past two weeks) and I've managed to eat rather healthily the last two days (except for the two brownies I had Tuesday afternoon at work, but whatever). Lots of praises.

After ditching the elliptical machine and Hoovering some water from the fountain, I started to make my way to the locker room but paused to allow an elderly woman to pass in front of me first.

"Good morning," I said. She kinda looked at me with slightly leery glance (I get that a lot). So I followed it with, "How are you?"

"Blessed, thank you," she said, and kept walking.

Since then, I've been pondering what my response should've been. I kinda went, "Awww," but I stopped myself because that would've seemed very patronizing. Same goes for, "Fabulous!" which is usually my default response. Thankfully, I didn't say that. I just smiled with my head cocked to one side and went to the locker room to wash away the sweat and slight social faux pas.

Obviously, I should've said, "Me, too" -- because she would've cared and all. No, seriously, I am quite blessed, and I should say that more.

But do I have the Cinderalla balls (was that polite enough?) to drop "I'm blessed" when someone passes me in the hall at work to ask how I am? Because usually when people ask, they really don't want to know. I don't tell passersby how I'm doing anymore when they ask a casual "how are you?" -- at least not since that time I got lost in the hospital while visiting my ailing grandmother about 20 years ago. Have time for a non sequitur? Here goes ...

So I'm ambling around looking confused and decidedly dorky when an elderly lady stopped me and asked -- or so I thought -- "Honey, how are you?" And, despite the fact that I was painfully shy back then, I go on some long tangent about how I was lost in the hospital, complete with turn by nerdy turn of my boring adventure being lost -- and hungry, no less. When I had finished, she smiled and said, "No, Honey, I asked if you had the time," and she pointed at her wrist. "My uncle here" -- and she pointed to the man beside her, looking sad -- "just lost his wife, and" something, something, something. I have no idea what she said after that, as I felt the color flush quickly from my face. I apologized, then stumbled off -- right before saying, "I'm sorry, I don't have a watch."

But anyway, next time someone asks me how I am, even if you know they don't care any more than the man in the moon, I'm gonna say, "I'm blessed" -- because it's true. We all are, really.

Peace, love and rambling stories that make no sense ... XOXO



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Living Wright

While other kids were watching "The Smurfs," Scene Writer Jason Ashley Wright was tuned in to "Style with Elsa Klensch." By fourth grade, he knew he wanted to write, and spent almost three years publishing a weekly teen-oriented magazine, Teen-Zine -- circulation: 2. After earning a degree in journalism from the University of Southern Mississippi, he became the medical reporter and teen board coordinator for the Hattiesburg (Miss.) American, a Gannett newspaper. Eight months later, with visions of Elsa dancing in his head, he applied for the fashion writer position at the Tulsa World, where he began working on Aug. 3, 1998. He is now a general assignment reporter for Scene.

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