I possess the world’s weakest visual-motor integration. This means I struggle making my hands do things the ways my eyes imagine them. I see beautiful, but produce toddler-esque product. Crafting is torture for me, but spectator sport for the friends who ambush me with “Let’s decorate gingerbread houses but tell Wendy it’s a dinner party tonight” evenings. I couldn’t paint an edge or a circle for a million dollars, so the only thing enticing about those wine & paint nights currently in vogue is the cheap wine. Feeling like a white night, maybe a Vinho Verde.
People laugh at my projects because I lead them in the laughter. It’s not funny to me though; it is in fact incredibly frustrating. Maddening even. But if I can beat ya to the punch line with self-deprecating wit, I get to pick.
I’m bad with the hands, but OK with the keys. I can make pretty flyers or Google Slides presentations. I’m a freak for fonts and kerning. Visual layouts, not art, are what I can envision and create. I’m a meticulous editor, and will slice to ribbons signage with typos, random apostrophes (kill me now!), and sucky fonts. Twitter kills me because you can’t edit, so I end up deleting a quarter of my tweets to ensure they’re grammatically solid and that my spellcheck hasn’t gone afield. FYI, iPhone, I will never use “ducking” in a text message. Just stop it and give in to my potty mouth. Ahem. My point? I am particular about fonts; is there such a thing as a font snob? I’m her then.
Because of you astounding humans, our MDA Muscle Walk team won ten team shirts for our walk. Our local MDA chapter holds friendly little fund-raising contests in the weeks leading up to the event, and it so happened that your generosity landed us in the Top 3 one week. My kid chose navy blue shirts for our group, and they printed our team name, Greater Than Gravity, on the back.
I don’t love the font. Shhhhhh, don’t tell anybody. I feel like a jerk. It’s not Comic Sans, thank stars, so all is not lost, but it’s not in Wendy’s Top 5. I’m not sure I’m totally down with wearing the tee shirts for the walk anyway. For the loud mouth I can be at work, I’m still a total wallflower when it comes to being an MD advocate. I don’t want to be identifiable Sunday. I want to keep on my sunglasses and avoid eye contact mostly. I’m OK with the written word, but but feel acutely socially awkward in vivo at the walk. I’m totally nervous already. Maybe I’ll work through the nerves this busy week, so Sunday won’t be such a reach. Or maybe I’ll feel like barfing the whole time. Yeah, that.
Feeling butterflies in my stomach is OK. I don’t love it, but I do love our team supporters, and I’m proud to have each of you walking with us next week. I don’t get it–I ask, and you respond. To date, we’ve, no, YOU’VE raised over $4,000 for muscular dystrophy because I’ve asked. What have I done to deserve you? Thank you.
With a grateful heart, I offer a standing ovation to these wonderful examples of humanity’s best and brightest: Heather Trotter, Fred and Rose Mary Walecki, Terry Radtke, Bek Szypula, Beth Sandmire, Bob and Anne Kosky, Michele Nixon, Sean Carlin, Alicia Kraucunas, Laurie Stilin, Sue Wacker, Michelle Sjoblom, Amy Behrendt, Bridget Panlener, Jenna Stoll, Jennifer Boyanton, Janice Schwind, Sally Warkaske, Julie Toepfer, Louise McGrody, Patti Sereno, Jill Holmes, Barbara Neville, Mark Weir, Nikki Leininger, Jen Sanders, Amy Van Ells, Shelly Weisse, Kris Imobersteg, Patti Bohlman, Colleen and John Haubner, Ginger Stapp, P.J. Early, Lisa Lien, Margo Turner, Chantal van Uytfanck, Michelle Thorpe, Amy Mullens, Christine Carey, Carly Ruggieri, Eric and April Walker, Jane Mlenar, John Weir, Gwen Evseichik, Rebecca Halsey-Schmidt, Patti Dillon, Maggie Palutsis, Shawna Berenz, Dawn Hennes, Tany Klein, Jim Sorenson, Jaclyn Witt, Diane Woppert, Dan Simmons, Amanda Barber. and Dawn Wolfgram. And to one very special individual who shall remain nameless–I would love nothing more than to thank you directly, but you’ll have to bask in your anonymity. Thank you. (PS–I promise I won’t tell, double dog dare pinky swear.) Thank you all.
And to those of you who follow me here or drop in every once in awhile, thank you. Every comment, every social media “like” or “share” means a great deal to me. You could occupy your mind and eyes reading great books or current events, yet you choose to read this. Y’all need to find a better hobby!
Unless you get it, you probably don’t get it. I’m a music girl through and through, but I never thought a lyric could mean this much to me or become a thing–this blog, the MDA walk team, my tattoo that’ll never happen because what if they mess up the font or misspell it?? All because of a sweet little love song, two minutes, twenty-eight seconds that make my heart happy. Every single time.