General

Moving thousands of miles from home involves more than selling everything you own and buying it again months later at Goodwill. Your entire infrastructure dissolves - doctors, dentists, the car guy who won't rip you off and your hairdresser.

Moving from home means losing your infrastructure

Moving thousands of miles from home involves more than selling everything you own and buying it again months later at Goodwill.  Your entire infrastructure dissolves – doctors, dentists, the car guy who won’t rip you off, and your hairdresser.

Moving thousands of miles from home involves more than selling everything you own and buying it again months later at Goodwill. Your entire infrastructure dissolves - doctors, dentists, the car guy who won't rip you off and your hairdresser.I’ve had three haircuts (or is it four?) since we moved, including an overzealous stylist who took a bit of my ear with the hair.  These were big box salons, the ones who peg you as “A Number Five”. The type of place where you never have the same stylist twice.

The other day, I needed a haircut and decided to gamble on a salon near my local grocery store.  It couldn’t be worse, yeah?

I opened the door. When I regained consciousness from the fumes of permanents and medieval hair tortures, I gave my name to Flora.

I love Flora.  When I told her “don’t be afraid to go short” with my already short hair, she didn’t question it or nibble off an eighth of an inch, but enthusiastically said, “Now you’re talking!” and got to work.

It was the best haircut ever.

My infrastructure is slowly rebuilding.  Thank you, Flora.

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The tragic news of the destruction of the World Trade Centers made in indelible impression on the world.

Tragedy after tragedy reminds us of what is important

The tragic news from Sandy Hook Elementary has galvanized the nation in support of dozens of grieving families. Blame will be cast and speeches made, urging reforms on gun ownership and mental health treatments. We can only speculate on whether our government takes action on any promises.  It’s easy to talk when tragedy overcomes our nation.

I’m at an age that I can look back at several tragedies in American history.

November 22, 1963 

A Friday. School officials let us out early. Only after we arrived home did we learn an assassin had taken the life of our president, JFK. Before the birth of CNN and FoxNew and a hundred other cable stations, we had three local stations. All weekend, our family was glued to the television, watching NBC’s coverage of the death of John Fitzgerald Kennedy. I was eight years old.

January 28, 1986

I watched in horror and a sick fascination as the Challenger exploded over and over and over again, as we tried to make sense of a senseless act. I watched the launch because of the novelty of having a teacher on board. If not for this anomaly, coverage wouldn’t have taken place.

I was home on maternity leave. My daughter was six days old.

October 14-16, 1987 

The nation was glued to the developing story of Jessica McClure, an eighteen-month old girl who fell down a well. It took rescuers fifty-eight hours to pull her out alive. I was six-months pregnant with my son.

September 11, 2001

A man I worked with received a call from his wife, and he informed us of the hit on the first tower. We listened in horror on the radio as the plane flew into the second tower. I heard Jim Miklaszewski report live from the Pentagon as the third plane slammed into it. Someone turned on the television in the cafeteria, and we watched as both towers collapsed. Numb, the events too surreal to comprehend, we tried to stay focused on work. I was to attend a five-year anniversary dinner for my investment club that night. Instead, I spent the afternoon scrambling for emails and phone numbers (this was before yahoo groups) to tell the members the easiest decision I’d ever had to make: Go home to your families.

The World Trade Centers before the tragedy of their destruction.

Columbine, Waco, Oklahoma City and now Newtown, CT. The names run together in a sea of senselessness and grief.

It’s sad that we need a tragedy to remind of us of what is important – our families. Your character’s angst isn’t important. Deadlines can wait. Forget the little things that keep you apart from the ones you love. Pick up the phone, email a note, Skype, do whatever it takes to breach that gulf. Hug them, hold them, show them how much you love them. Do you want to go to bed tomorrow with their names on a list circulating the globe?

Hug your family today. Never forget what is truly important.

 

 

 

 

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I can help!  As of today, I passed the national and state real estate exams.  The national wasn’t any different than what we’d been taught in real estate school, but the state?  Man, I was sweating silver bullets.  For example, the first question was something along the lines of “HRS (Hawaii Real Estate Statue) 405B has implications on one of the following:”

Okay, we didn’t learn that.  There are over 30 pages of HRS, and we highlighted the good parts.  No way did we memorize each individual number.

But it’s over, my hitting the books every day for 3-4 hours counted for something, not to mention vocabulary words stuck on post-it notes in the bathroom and countless retaking of quizzes.  I will never, ever have to take the test again.

Bonus!  If you’ve read “The Power of Your Subconscious Mind” I cannot emphasize enough for you to get a copy.  It’s all about envisioning the end results as reality and cutting out the negativity.  (thinking “I want” or I need” sends out the message that you are in a perpetual mode of wanting and needing and you’ll never get ahead).

Anyway, last night I envisioned the words “You Passed”, and, for good measure, “Wealth”.  Today we received a very nice check from our old mortgage company.  Seems we overpaid our property taxed at closing and they reimbursed us for the overage.  Sweet!

Dinner tonight is on Citimortgage.

Blessings,

Cheryl

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