100 Things - Debra Kreps

100 Things About Me

I'm a Scorpio. Even though I don't put any stock in astrology or horoscopes or any of that, it freaks me out when I act just like my sign is "supposed" to. I don't like anyone or anything having that kind of insight into me. Which is just how a Scorpio would feel. See? Freaky.
I sat on a jury a few years ago. It was a drunk driving case which is a particular pet peeve of mine and the guy didn't have any defense. In fact, he may have been drunk in the courtroom; I was upwind so I can't be sure. Anyway, I have never understood why people try to get out of jury duty. I found the whole process fascinating and had quite the sense of accomplishment and pride to be part of helping the victim in my case receive some measure of justice. What can be better than that? (Yes, the waiting around to be called was miserable but that's why books were invented. And navels, for more gazing.)
My favorite food is tomatoes and all things tomato-based. I won't turn down a box of chocolates but if a man brought me a home-grown vine-ripened tomato I would know his love was true. Or he wrecked my car and was trying to make amends. But either way, he would be a keeper.
My secret wish is to sky dive. You're probably thinking, really? Are you crazy? Maybe I am but trust me when I say, it's totally something a Scorpio would want to do.
I have been up in a hot air balloon. It was amazing and I would do it again in a heart beat. This is part of the reason I think I could sky dive. If I can go up in a basket, I can surely come down in a parachute. Seriously, is one more ridiculous than the other? I didn't think so.
I miss owning a piano. There are some nights when I get home and think how nice it would be to really pound out some Chopin or Beethoven or even Joplin. And then I remember I have neighbors so I just pound on the walls instead.
Memories are palpable to me. I can feel the past in rooms, furniture, articles. This has been the source of great pain and immeasurable joy to me over the years. And probably one of the reasons I'm wanting to move so badly.
When I was a kid, I made a reading/writing room out of my closet. I had a blanket on the floor and some sort of light and I would shut the door and write my novels and read countless books. Why I did this, I have no idea; the entire bedroom was mine. It was probably a Scorpio thing.
If I had a theme song it would be Here Comes the Sun by the Beatles. I feel like most of my life has been about emerging from a long cold lonely winter. I am so ready for some sun.
Speaking of which, George Harrison is my favorite Beatle. As if that even needed said.
I've been a vegetarian almost four years now and have been healthier and felt better as a result. Sometimes it can be difficult to find a nice vegetarian meal served in a restaurant here since I live at the intersection of Cow Country and Hog Heaven but it's definitely improving over time. (Added 12/3/2011: I've been vegan since 9/9/2011 and I didnt know how easy I had it before as a vegetarian.)
But no, I don't mind if you eat meat. Of course, as someone who is also concerned with animal rights and welfare and believes in the Buddhist philosophy of "Do no harm" I would rather you didn't but we all have our own paths to walk. No judgment here.
I saw a box of red, white and blue rocket-shaped popsicles the other day and was reminded of the neighbor kids that my sister and I played with when we were really young, Stephanie, Shelly and Scott. Their mom always had those popsicles as treats. I doubt I would remember them except my dad always teased the kids and called them Snephanie, Snelly and Snot. It's stuff like that that, taking up room in my brain, that caused me to spend ten minutes yesterday trying to remember if we'd celebrated the Fourth of July yet this year.
Those were the same kids with whom I spent one blissful day coloring the floor of their front porch with crayons. I remember their mother being pretty nice to me about it but thinking back, she had to be livid. After all, there wasn't a budding Monet or Van Gogh among us. Come to think of it, I don't think she offered us any popsicles that day.
My eyes are green. And blue. And blue-green. And sometimes bright aqua. Yes, it is cool but you try fitting all that on your driver's license. The color depends on what I'm wearing and a little bit on how tired I am and possibly a little bit dictated by my mood but I might be mixing that up with mood rings.
I also loved mood rings as a kid. And pet rocks. But I never cared for troll dolls. I think that's what is referred to as 'good breeding.'
My eyes also work very poorly. I've had glasses since my vision was tested for kindergarten (age 4) and have had contacts since I went into Grade 5 (age 9). I can't see anything without lenses and they aren't able to get my vision to 20/20 even with help so I live in a world of blur. But I've never known any different so to me it's just a world. Like, if you grew up in China, you wouldn't think of it as Chinese food, it would just be food. You could say, a blurry world is my Kung Pao chicken. I don't know why you would say that but you could.
One of my life's greatest pleasure is a well-turned phrase. As someone who struggles most days and knows how difficult it can be to not only find the words but then put them in the right order, I admire and appreciate someone who can craft a beautiful sentence.
Speaking of well-turned phrases, one of the most beautiful books ever written and one of my favorites is To Kill a Mockingbird, by Harper Lee. Simple, elegant, evocative, powerful, impactful and human. Perfection.
My favorite passage from To Kill a Mockingbird is this from Chapter 23: "You know something, Scout? I've got it all figured out, now. I've thought about it a lot lately and I've got it figured out. There's four kinds of folks in the world. There's the ordinary kind like us and the neighbors, there's the kind like the Cunninghams out in the woods, the kind like the Ewells down at the dump, and the Negroes." …. " Naw, Jem, I think there's just one kind of folks. Folks." See? Perfection.
I've never watched or read anything related to Star Wars, Lord of the Rings, Harry Potter or anything like that. Nor do I intend to. My doctor wants me to assure you that, contrary to popular opinion, this will not have any impact on my life expectancy.
I'm not a huge fan of Hollywood movies, at least not those from the last few decades. There are exceptions, of course, but I'm much more apt to see an international film at our local independent theatre than something churned out by the Hollywood machine. The plots are intriguing, the locations spectacular and I could listen to people speaking non-English languages all day.
Speaking of which, if you haven't seen the Argentine film, El Secreto de sus Ojos (The Secret in Their Eyes) you really should. It's the best film I've seen in years.
Early mornings are my favorite time. I see the sunrise most every day (it rises right over my deck most of the year) and more often than not, I never see anything more beautiful the rest of the day. I'm not sure if I'm in a good mood in the mornings so the sunrise looks more beautiful or the sunrise is so beautiful it puts me in a good mood but either way, it works for me.
I'm a beginner photographer. In other words, I shoot horrible pictures. But, I'm slowly learning the technical aspects and losing my intimidation with the "big girl" camera. I'm also learning to trust my eye which is teaching me a lot about how I see the world so I'm loving it.
I'm an avid reader of fiction and non-fiction but in the past five or six years I've become obsessed with memoirs. The stories of real people fascinate me and are usually more outrageous than even the best novel. Plus, I keep hoping that they'll reveal their secret of doing something "memoirable" on page 147 but sadly, page 147 is always a disappointment.
Sometimes I feel like everyone else received the handbook on life and I'm the only one struggling with it. And by sometimes, I mean every single day. I don't even know what I want to be when I grow up and I've been grown up for weeks now.
I do not know how to swim. At all. Not even a little bit. I'm pretty sure I could excel at drowning, though, so I have that going for me.
I'd love to learn how to swim because 1) I would love to visit the Great Barrier Reef someday and think it would be awesome to snorkel while there and 2) if I'm swimming then I must be feeling pretty good about myself in a swimsuit so Go Me!
I'd also like to travel to some countries that frighten me a bit. Like China. And Jordan. And Cuba. I have amazing, beautiful, sweet-hearted friends from those countries and I'd love to see the places that mean so much to them. I only hope I can take a decent photo by then.
I love lighthouses. The first one I saw in person was on Lake Superior and the largest one I've seen (so far) was in Portland, Maine. I love what a lighthouse symbolizes: steadfastness, guidance, safety, a reminder that we are not alone in the darkness. Plus, they're pretty, so there you go.
I could plan a road trip just around traveling to all the lighthouses in North America. Oh, dude, why is that not on my life list?
I once won a radio quiz by knowing that the state that has the most lighthouses is Michigan. People were guessing states all up and down the Eastern seaboard but for some reason I just knew that Michigan had to be the right answer. As much as I love lighthouses, I love Michigan just as much. It seemed apparent to me that they went together.
As long as we're talking architectural-type structures, my second and third favorites are bridges and doors. There's symbolism there, too, but I'll let you figure that out.
For all the reading I've done, I've never been part of a book club. I've wanted to be for years but for one reason or another, it hasn't worked out. That changed this week. I'm in a book club! I hope there's a secret handshake.
I'm listening to my iPod as I'm writing this and I must admit, I have rubbish taste in music. I don't have the knack of finding the great indie bands lurking out there in the… wherever it is that great indie bands lurk. See, I don't even know where to begin. (Added 12/3/2011: I found a great alternative music station and now my iPod is loaded with great music. Bazinga!)
When I was a kid, I had to get allergy shots all the time, sometimes as often as every week. I don't know if the needles scared me at first (they probably did) but I don't remember ever not wanting to get my shot.
I don't mind blood draws, dental fillings or mammograms either so maybe I'm just weird. I have had two doctors tell me I have a great tolerance for pain and both were in the middle of performing procedures on me much worse than any of that, so I guess I'll take their word for it.
My biggest pet peeve lately is people using text speak, even in texts. Words are valuable and powerful. Abbreviating them beyond recognition isn't efficient or trendy, it's hurtful. I fear for where language is headed. If you don't have time to use your words, I have trouble finding time to read your message.
But I was one of those kids who actually enjoyed grammar, spelling tests and diagramming sentences so I am a little protective of my words. I can't imagine a world without the beauty of written language. Nor could I live in it.
If I were the type of woman to have a signature fragrance, mine would be 212 by Carolina Herrera. I've been wearing it since it debuted in 1997 and it's just one of those things that seems like it was made with me in mind. I love it. She has variations of 212 now but I still love the original.
Speaking of types of women, I would love to be one of those women who is known for wearing hats… not just fun baseball caps and sun hats (I do love my sun hats)… but real, honest to goodness, fancy, chic, elegant headwear. My collection is currently under construction and accepting donations.
I don't care how many times you point to it, I will never see what you're trying to show me in your sonogram. Just saying…
And I have never been able to make out what people are trying to show me when they use one of those photo filter apps either. It's all just grainy and yellow to me. I assume you're photographing mustard unless you tell me otherwise.
I live across from a small church cemetery. That freaks out some people but I love it. Breathing people are the only ones who have ever freaked me out.
My second toes are longer than my big toes, which I've been told is called Morton's Toe. Though it's pretty common, it's still considered a disorder. I'm not expecting a Jerry Lewis telethon or anything.
Actually, all my toes are unusually long. Finger-like long. I could probably play the piano with them. I mean, I already know how to read music so it shouldn't be too hard.
Even though I am completely anti-violence, The Sopranos is my favorite TV series. The writing was phenomenal and James Gandolfini was flawless.
But some of my best memories are from watching the old Carol Burnett show with my mom. One of my favorite skits involved a lighthouse. Imagine that.
I like finding quotes from TV shows that work in everyday life. My favorite right now, when I don't want to do whatever it is I'm being asked to do, is "I'm just not in a very Hootie place right now," from Friends. No one has yet to argue with that. Where would they even begin, really?
I had some scares as a kid (throat-closing hives, etc.) with OTC medications that made me decide as an adult, especially one living alone, not to take medications. I live without caffeine, meat and alcohol… going without drugs isn't that big of deal, trust me.
Now, to negate what I just said, I do take allergy medication (when it isn't being recalled) when things get really bad for me in the spring and fall but I talked that through with two doctors and a pharmacist years ago and thankfully, I've never had any trouble with it. Knock on wood, I haven't even needed it this year. Miracles do exist, people.
For someone who doesn't take drugs, I love my pharmacy more than someone probably should. Well, other than the woman who works in the photo lab; I don't care for her. She knows why.
I also love my chiropractor. I remember as a kid my dad would make the occasional trip to his chiropractor and I thought the whole thing sounded like torture. Cracking your neck? On what planet does that sound like a sane thing to do?
All that changed after a car accident I had just after moving here. I went to a doctor first and the only thing he wanted to do was give me muscle relaxants. (Doctors are big ol' pushers.) So I went to a chiropractor and he was able to relieve the pain and put everything back where it needed to be. He's been in my will ever since.
Or, he will be. I still need to write my will.
I even went to him when I ruptured my Achilles tendon a few years back. The ER doctor handed me a prescription for addictive pain killers and crutches, neither of which I used. (And if he had listened to me, he would have known that.) My chiropractor and physical therapist got me through that nightmare with no drugs and no surgery. My left calf and I are eternally grateful.
But I should clarify, I have only respect for (good) doctors and am incredibly grateful to live in a time with so many medical advances, including drugs. If I ever need them, I appreciate knowing they're there for me.
I met a woman once who was only a few months older than I and she had been in a wheelchair for years due to complications from diabetes and arthritis. She made an incredible impression on me and I don't think I'll ever take my mobility for granted.
Which leads me to the shift I'm trying to make with exercise. I remind myself it isn't something I have to do, it's something I get to do. When I get that down, I'll work on it being something I want to do. :)
I used to worship the sun. I would spend hours every week, all summer long, lying outside and baking like a potato, the scent of coconuty suntan lotion forming one of those Pig-Pen clouds around me.
Nowadays I rarely go outside without major SPF protection and, if I'm feeling sassy, a hat. In fact, I'm pretty sure I'm whiter now in July than I was when summer began. I call my color Skin Cancer Scare Pallor. Sherwin-Williams should be calling any day now to tap into my skills.
I have always gotten annoyed when people don't call me by my name but lately I've been confronting them about it. The first time or two was difficult but now I'm pretty good at standing up for myself. If I have never introduced myself, signed an email, answered the telephone or referred to myself in any way by something other than my name, you certainly have no right to call me something else. At the very least we should be able to own our names.
However, besides Debra, I will answer to Petal Cougar Mellencamp (no relation). Seriously. But that's a story for another day.
In the past few years I've been paring down my possessions. I am inching my way to a pseudo-minimalist lifestyle in which I have only what I absolutely love and need surrounding me. I've always been stressed by clutter and I find the more I release, the better I feel.
I gave away about half of my wardrobe but I realized I didn't wear most of it anyway. But for some reason, when I pack for a trip, I suddenly think my life is full of costume changes. I take everything in my closet and a few things I swear I've never seen before. It's like I'm Tina Turner or something.
I saw Tina Turner in concert years ago and she changed clothes for almost every song. (Just in case you were wondering where that 'out of left field' Tina Turner reference came from.)
Okay, I can see that Petal Cougar Mellencamp thing is bothering you so I'll fill you in. My friend Mary named me Petal (after I was kind enough to fly all the way to Maine to visit her, thankyouverymuch) because she came to the erroneous conclusion that I am delicate and fragile like a hothouse flower. I think her exact words were, "You are delicate and fragile like a hothouse flower." Sure, it sounds like a compliment but in Maine they don't care for things that require the least bit of effort. At least that's the impression I was given. Ahem.
The Cougar name was applied after I generously tipped (and flirted with, so the record states; I'm still contesting that) a young man who waited on us in a pub in Freeport, Maine (home of the L.L.Bean flagship store and the giant boot). Apparently this kind, benevolent gesture on my part made me a Cougar. Again, I say, Ahem. And by Ahem, I mean, Maine people are all kinds of crazy.
Of course, once she started calling me Petal Cougar, I had to add the Mellencamp (no relation). You try saying anything Cougar and not adding Mellencamp. It's impossible. John couldn't even do it.
I'm more introverted than extroverted but I will talk to every stranger I come across, if given the opportunity. I love the stories that are shared in chance meetings.
I will also avoid talking to people I know at almost every opportunity, unless I'm not the topic of discussion. Tell me what's going on with you and we're good. I'm a much better listener than I am a sharer.
And though it makes no sense for an introvert, I love talking in front of crowds. Giving speeches, delivering training, leading meetings... I love it.
Playing the piano definitely helped me feel more comfortable in front of people. There can be no greater terror when you're a shy child than walking to the front of a crowded recital hall to play an unfamiliar piano with all eyes and ears in the room focused on you.
But I soon realized that with enough practice and enough performances, I would live through it. And even if I flubbed, people still admired the effort. Pretty good lessons to have learned early in life.
My favorite flower is the callalily. They have sturdy stems and delicate blooms and I like the juxtaposition of strength and beauty.
Yellow flowers are my favorite, regardless of variety. Nothing says joy like a bright sunshiney flower.
But my favorite non-human living things are trees, any variety, any season. I am blessed to have dozens of pines and white birch trees right outside my door. They provide amazing scenery and tranquility all year long.
For years I have been trying to decide what my favorite tree is and I just can't do it. They are all majestic and awe-inspiring to me.
One of my goals is to go to California to see the redwoods, though I'm pretty sure I'm going to faint when I do. But then I'll pop right back up and try to hug them all. Yes, I am that person.
My favorite day of the year is my birthday which, as of this writing, is three months from today. If you work with me, or have ever worked with me, you already knew that.
Every month on the 18th I tell everyone I see how many months it is to my birthday. About the end of September, I start counting down the days. My poor coworkers, who are the only people I see regularly, get the brunt of that.
One of my former coworkers is so well-trained bullied traumatized kind that by the end of business today, I will receive a Happy Three Months to Your Birthday! wish and we haven't worked together in over ten years. I may be a tad zealous.
I like my birthday for several reasons but mainly because I've lost too many loved ones who were far too young and I choose to celebrate and never take for granted that I was blessed with another year. I'm sure if they could, they would remind us to appreciate every moment we're given, even the not so good ones.
But I also like my birthday because I can get my way and not feel guilty. And by "get my way," I mean "eat cake."
Carrot cake is my favorite, though Cyd's makes a zucchini cake that is a very close second. (Added 12/3/2011: Finding a vegan carrot cake recipe was my first goal after becoming vegan. Result!)
One of the things I dislike about being single is that I have to be the one to drive everywhere. It would be nice to run errands and be the passenger for a change. The one time of the year that I don't drive is Girls Weekend because Denise always drives. It's one of the things I appreciate about her.
It's difficult for me to drive to places I've never been because my eyes aren't reliable. I can't read street signs (heck, I can't SEE street signs) until I'm on top of them and by then, it's too late to get in the correct lane or turn. If you're going to give me directions, I need HUGE landmarks to go by. Telling me to turn left on Bogus Boulevard means nothing. You have to say something like, turn left at the graffitied yellow brick building with a revolving pink pig on top and a neon green dump truck out front. At least then I have a shot of seeing it.
I was also in a car accident a few years ago (my vehicle was rear-ended on an interstate off-ramp) that causes my neck and shoulders to stiffen up and start to spasm if I drive more than an hour or two at a time.
That doesn't stop me from wanting to road trip across the country, though. I just need to find someone who can do most of the driving in exchange for Cheetos and gas money. And, most likely, an enthusiastically-delivered reminder every morning of just how many days it is until my birthday.
My life hasn't turned out anything like I expected it to. Most days I'm okay with that.
Most nights are another story. That's when all the doubts creep in.
I shouldn't be too surprised that my life is what it is. The past twenty minutes haven't turned out like I thought they would either and life is nothing but a great big long string of twenty minutes gone awry.
Or maybe I'm just really bad at knowing what to expect.
If my house was on fire and I could only take five things with me, I would take my external hard drive that has all my writing and photos on it, my contact lenses or glasses (whichever I wasn't wearing at the time), the photos of my grandparents and great grandparents, my favorite pair of jeans and the teddy bear I've had since I was four years old.
It took me twelve minutes to come up with five things I would want to save. The robbery reinforced to me that things just aren't that important. Memories are, however. And, a good pair of jeans is priceless.
My favorite color is whatever color you imagine when you see the word 'ocean.' So, sort of like my eyes... varying shades and dependent on environmental factors.
If I could have one wish, I would wish for the elimination of cruelty, in all its forms.
If I could have two wishes, I would ask for another great pair of jeans because I'm having no luck finding a pair on my own and let's face it, I'll forget to grab the ones I have the minute that smoke detector goes off.
When I started this list I didn't think I would ever find 100 things to say about myself. Now I wish I had told you 100 completely different things. And, I did not expect that.

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