NEW CASTLE —
Is there anybody out there? (Has my life really become just one preposition off a Pink Floyd song?)
I've been gone from the blogosphere for about a month now, and anyone with a functioning brain cell knows that's literary suicide, especially when the next blog is only a mouse-click away. I'm sorry for abandoning you, my faithful friends. I had to dispose of some internal organs that were giving me grief, and that meant taking one of those FMLA medical leaves from work.
And FMLA means that in order to keep my job, I wasn't allowed to perform my job. Don't you just love legalities?
But I'm back now, although my fear is that most of my readers have moved on to greener pastures. That's OK, though, because if you're reading this, that means YOU'RE still here. And let me tell you, I missed the heck out of you while I was gone!
So do you want to hear all about my surgery? (Sure you do, that's what faithful friends are for!) Everything went well and I'm still alive. Hallelujah! It was an interesting experience, although with the exception of the room service at the hospital, I really wouldn't want to repeat it anytime soon. Control freaks do not make good patients.
Surgery is a trippy thing, what with all the unconsciousness and people coming at you with needles and operating rooms filled with things that look like flying saucers and rainbows — not to mention the post-op drugs that make you feel like you've lost what little of your mind was left. (I spent a good hour of the evening of my surgery asking the nursing staff if they'd seen my cat, Butters, whom I couldn't find even though I swore she was just on my lap earlier.)
But enough about my mental instabilities. When I left you high and dry four weeks ago, I remember blogging that if I survived my surgery, I'd be back the next week. And as you already know, I wasn't. I'm hoping my readers didn't assume I had died. Nobody sent flowers to my house, so I'm guessing not.
I also hope nobody is disappointed that I don't have a question for you this week. I wanted to take this blogortunity just to let you know that I'm back, and that the Madras Inquisition will commence again next week. For right now, I have no real lesson to talk about. Maybe I should just say that I'm thankful for the miracles of modern medicine — and take care of your body — it's the only one you've got.
Oh, and now that you know I'm here again, tell your friends, will ya?
NEW CASTLE —
- Lisa Madras
Lisa Madras: My life isn’t simple — but today, it’s an open book
What is your cosmic elevator pitch? I found this question today and wanted to throw it out there for a couple of reasons. Let me start by clarifying that I'm not asking what you do for a living, or how many kids you have, or even what you might write about yourself for an online dating profile.
Lisa Madras: Playing it ‘safe’ may be the biggest risk of all
When was the last time you took a risk? I have never been a huge risk-taker. Sure, I love roller coasters and surfing and occasionally (although I'll deny it if you ever ask me) driving just a little bit too fast. But the difference between me and the real risk-takers of the world is that my so-called risks are carefully controlled and calculated.
Lisa Madras: Me? An athlete? That might be a stretch
Is it out of reach? Or have you just not stretched yourself far enough? My friend Alexis and I have a tradition. Each year in March we attend the Crisis Shelter Auction, a fundraiser for the shelter that involves dinner, drinks, and of course, an auction
Lisa Madras: Thanks for the wisdom, Dr. Phil — I think
How important are you ... to you? "Don't worry about hurting my feelings because I guarantee you not one bit of my self-esteem is tied up in your acceptance."
Lisa Madras: My life, as see on TV? Geez, I hope not!
What makes life easier? If you've ever seen an "As Seen on TV!" product, you might believe that there are a lot of things out there that will make your life easier.
Lisa Madras: Don’t be a tattle-tale? That’s a dangerous double-standard
Is it ever OK to be a tattle-tale? Tattle-tale ... isn't that an ugly word? The dictionary defines it as "a child who tells a grown-up about something bad that someone else has done."
Lisa Madras: Feeling stuck? It’s time to figure out why
Why are you where you are? Geez, if this isn't a loaded question, I don't know what is. This one is going to make up dig deep. Real deep. And before the digging even starts, we have to define what we mean by "where you are."
Lisa Madras: We’re living, breathing question marks searching for answers
Why are we still asking ourselves questions?It's been a long time now that I've been writing this blog.There are times when I wonder when it will run its course — when my readers will lose interest in questions, when I will simply run out of questions to ask.
Lisa Madras: No, I didn’t die and, yes, I still have no life
Hello? Is there anybody out there? (Has my life really become just one preposition off a Pink Floyd song?)
Lisa Madras: Yep, this is SUPPOSED to be my blog
Lisa Madras is the advertising dispatch and web personality at The News. Her blog appears each Monday on www.ncnewsonline.com.
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- Lisa Madras: My life isn’t simple — but today, it’s an open book