Hello world!

This will be the official blogging site of the writer, Gloria Attar RN BSN.  My business Write Off the Bat Studios specializes in healthcare writing with secondary lines in family and parenting, science, technology and creative writing. I have a full creative team behind me and together we cover the US, Italy, Sweden, Germany and Austalia. Come take a look at what we’re working on and our client list, including Fortune 500 and Fortune 100 companies at: writeoffthebatstudios.com (Our website is undergoing a bit of a makeover and update, so be a little patient with us while we work out the bugs.)

My writing can be found at: ehow.com, essortment.com, budgetartists.com (health editor), and helium.com, and coming soon at: LiveStrong.com (Lance Armstrong’s website). I have been published in print with The Rambler, A Distinctive Style and the Chocolate for a Woman’s Dream anthology.

Blessings,
gloria

This doesn’t work for me.

Sorry, but keeping up with a blog just isn’t my thing. I’m on Facebook and on Twitter as “redheadwritrgrl,” so if you want to know what I’m up to….. check those mini-blogs. Ciao!

Excerpt of My Book is Up!

The first five pages of my novel in progress, The Wisdom of Time, are up on Glass Cases. A BIG THANK YOU to Sarah for her comments! Check it out: The Wisdom of Time

Swine Flu Phenom.

I find it disturbing that just when we should be focused on something outrageous that our government is pulling that the government gives us something to focus on so we sort of forget about 1) war, 2) inflation 3) healthcare, etc. This year, it’s SWINE…. a few years ago, it was SARS, before that it was Weapons of Mass Destruction.

Swine flu. From Dr. Nany Schneiderman telling health care workers just to “get their DAMN shot” to the some states making it mandatory for hospital workers to get their vaccine, the world is going a little mad with this thing. If you’re a healthy person and practice safe hygiene including handwashing, gripping door handles and knobs with your sleeve pulled down and covering your hand, wiping your shopping carts down with at the door disinfecting wipes and good nutrition skills (plenty of water, fresh fruits and vegetables … stay away from empty calories (sweets and alcohol), then you should be just fine against the swine flu. I did all of this and still got the swine flu (although I did shop somewhere where they didn’t have those wipey things), but with all the natural health practices I do when I start to feel sick, I was down for the count for less than 48 hours. Four days into it and you’d never know I had it!

Double up on your multi-vitamins during cold and flu season, pile on the garlic into just about everything you eat, eat lots of onions too, throw together a berry smoothie everyday, sleep, watch your alcohol intake (it tears down your immune system, apart from a glass or two of red wine a week), eat two servings of raw fruits a day (the enzymes aid in digestion and keep your intestinal tract clean which is key to health), MOVE (get a little exercise everyday even if you’re marching in place at commercial times). Drink plenty of GOOD CLEAN WATER — forget the city water that comes out of your tap; it’s likely to make you sicker and tear your immune system down. To really build up your immune system, take Astragalus. It’s a Chinese herb that works with your deep immune system. The Chinese make a big pot of this soup during the winter season and eat it once a day. It works. I’ve used it for years.

Don’t forget to get the stress out of your life by: hot baths, walks, candles (these calm down any house), reading, holding family game night, playing with (and paying attention to…) your pets, journaling, painting, scrapbooking…. anything that relaxes you and doesn’t cause undue stress or drain on your energy will nourish your body and spirit. And these two tiny little things can keep you well throughout the winter months.

gloria

Success is the Best Statement.

I used to think that success was the best revenge when someone tried to hurt me. Through half-mast eyes this morning after a night of trying to come to grips with something a person close to me said, I realized that I didn’t want revenge. It wouldn’t teach them anything anyway. I wanted to simply go on…leading my life the way I have been…. with my goals in place and my working toward them. Last night I wanted to leave the area. This morning I don’t care whether I leave or stay. The venue isn’t going to change this person. It would only change me.

So this morning, in the wake of still smarting a bit from yet another of those proverbial straws, I find I am not broken. Again, wiser. And a little more nonplussed by the nonsense than the time before that. And the next time, I’ll be even a little more-so. You eventually become accustomed to the water dripping on your head. I’m not one to wait for the perfect conditions to lead the life I want. If I did, I would have never thrown my coins into the Fountain.

This morning I embark on fine tuning that picture of my life that I have. It’s clearer than it was yesterday. Clearer than last week. Clearer and closer.

Success is not the best revenge.

Success is the best statement…. the statement of who you are and how you want to live.

My success lies in the fact that the way I want to live my life falls out of my mouth and into being. How lucky am I to have learned that I have the power and will to do that no matter how many straws are stacked?

gloria

Groaning from the Ambition Gene

Sometimes I wish someone would just shut off the damn amibition gene in my DNA. Since that probably isn’t possible, could I just have a lobotomy? In the style of Julie & Julia, I’ve decided to blog about my journey to writing The Great American Novel. What the hell? I’ve never been one to jump on a bandwagon or take to a trend. This must be the one I’ve been waiting for. So, yeah, I’m gonna blog about it…. write the pain, sorrow, stupidity, blah blah blah…. actually for those who have been privy to my serialized accounts of my life in Italy, this will be round two and for those that have never read them, well hold on….. you’re in for a bit of romantic fodder. It’s not just the story of two people falling in love…. it’s my journey through the ups and downs of living in a foreign county… dealing with a foreign man…. raising a toddler alone and as an ex-pat…. but also a journey to understand myself better.

Something feels very different about this goal…. like this is the one that REALLY matters… .the one that’s the culmination of years of knowledge….. the one that will count almost as much as the goal that took me Across the Pond.

Let’s hope, huh?

gloria

First Day at the Bus Stop

Leave it to my daughter to attract a high school boy! Yep, her first day at the bus stop which intermingles high school kids with middle school…. the 6th through the 12th grades….. and who talks to her, but a high school boy! He’s cute and all and it appears he was raised right because he allowed her to get on the bus before him. My friend Tom said the guy had just wanted to check out her legs! Yeah, I’ll be breaking those heels off those shoes when she gets home!

I didn’t have legs like those when I was her age, or maybe I did and I just never saw them! I wasn’t into fashion and dressing up to go to sixth grade. It was the early 70s, and I was happy that we had just been permitted to wear pants to school so that’s ALL I wore! I attended a country school where men were men and sometimes, so were the women. We had to wear dresses with short white socks and Mary Janes until a new school board member who’d attended Woodstock pushed for change. Fast forward to thirty-six years later as I watched my dear girl walk down the sidewalk in her heels, black shirt (just an inch above the knee), denim jacket (with cuffs Frenched thanks to mom’s fashion sense), long blond hair, big blue eyes, fashion specs, and my hoop earrings. Sigh. Darn hippies.

Growing Pains

This is a first for me, er, maybe not. I remember I was very nervous on my daughter’s first day of preschool in Italy. I remember walking back to our house and feeling like I was going to pass out on the sidewalk. This time, I drove her to her first day of middle school. She was supposed to ride the bus and was very excited last night to do so. When the alarm rang at 6 a.m. she asked if I would “PUUUUULLEASE” drive her so she could sleep a little longer. Of course! I wanted to hang on to her for as many more minutes as I could this morning.

On the way home, I thought I was going to throw up in the car. Okay, I hadn’t been feeling all that well lately anyway and had probably picked up a bug at work (or from a shopping cart), but I’m the “cool” mom. I’m the one that has lived out most all her dreams and am even encouraging my daughter’s dream of going to fashion design school in Italy. Uh huh. I should be able to let her go and do and be anything she wants, no matter how far away that takes her from me. At least that’s what I keep telling myself that I should be able to do. Somehow I don’t think I can let her go without me moving back there too. I’m familiar with the country, so what the hell?

This morning should have been no different than any other school year. It’s just a different building, right? But this year, I’m worried. She attended one of four elementary schools in the district. She’s attending the same school where I graduated. Could it be that all my bad experiences on the bus are coloring my peace of mind? You bet your ass they are. I don’t like that the sixth graders are riding the same bus as the high schoolers. Sixth and twelfth together? That’s just asking for trouble. I don’t like that she’s with four other elementary schools’ kids that are probably a little rougher around the edges than she’s accustomed to. She attended the elementary that’s a little more progressive than the others — the curriculum is a little tougher. My graduating class had well over 300 graduates and I’m happy to know that her class will have less than 290. That means less students per teacher. Last year’s ratio was 1:18.

I know the bus thing isn’t the only reason I’m quite nervous about this school year. I analyzed my malaise and can only surmise that it is because I’ve raised her alone. For those that don’t know, I was widowed while I pregnant, so it’s been mom and daughter from the start with a healthy dose of friends and family thrown in for support. My bond with her is still unshakable at the moment; I believe its a result of our years in Italy when we had only the two of us. And although I’m getting plenty of attitude at times, and more hormonal outbursts — she still wants to cuddle with me at the end of the day, still wants her hug and kiss before bed, still wants me to check on her before I go to bed and cover her up, and I still get to call her “lovey” (just not in public).

She came home from school today and was pleased to report that her friends thought it was cool that she was wearing heels, and “fashion” glasses. She told me that one girl even called her a “fashionista.” I’ve no doubt that she’ll want to go back to school tomorrow after such a successful day. I guess now it becomes less about grades and more about how you look while getting those grades! Fabulous…. just as long as the “in” look doesn’t become ‘sexy chic.’ That look is rated ’21 and over’ please.

gloria

Daughter’s First Heels

I bought my daughter’s first pair of heels yesterday. She’s excited. I’m having a stroke. She’s only 11!! Yes, we attend many events throughout the year where a little dressier shoe would be appropriate rather than her forever flats. And yes, I could have said ‘no,’ but she’s worked on me. My dear daughter is very subtle in her manipulation. It’s never whining. She understands that there are times when the budget is limited, and that she can’t have everything that she wants. She’s just as content curled up on the couch with me watching a movie as she is going to the cinema. She’d rather go to Borders and read the magazines for free and simply enjoy a small dessert coffee than to come home with an arm full of teen gossip rags. She’s a good kid. She’s a patient kid. She does the laundry for both of us, takes care of her rabbit and helps clean the house. And she questions. Her manipulation for the shoes consisted of once a week stating (within the context of a discussion we were having, of course…. she’s really slick), ‘but I can’t wear heels until I’m 13, right?’ ‘Right,’ would be my reply. Until yesterday at the store. There was a BOGO for 50% off and we couldn’t find another pair of shoes that would work for ANYTHING. It just wasn’t happening no matter what we looked at, and I already have too many pairs. I walked around the corner and there they were…. a 2 1/2″ black patent pump. I brought them over to her, hoping and praying that she’d say they were too impractical for school (she’s actually very practical for the most part). Yeah, no such luck.

The heels weren’t in my hands for 3 seconds. She grabbed them, put them on and her legs instantly rose to her neck. Hurt me. She said, ‘you know you can’t take these back now.’ Yes, I knew that, so I rewarded her with the heels. I just hate that they are a venue that allows her to walk a little further toward her independence from me.

Oh, and did I mention this is her first year of middle school? Wake me up when she’s ready to graduate please…..

Something’s Gotta Give….

I called my “real” closest girlfriend today. She lives an ocean away in Italy. I hadn’t realized how much I had missed her. I miss my life there too. My daughter and I talk about going back more and more these days. As we see America change and become less friendly even to Americans, we long for the simpler life we had in Italy. We didn’t have much, no one there really does. Even the richest Italians, don’t live like the richest Americans. They may live in palatial villas, but compare their homes to Bill Gates’ and you’ll find it’s not as technologically advanced (of course), or even well-heated with updated plumbing. Grocery stores aren’t as well-stocked. People wear clothes they’ve worn for years. The young people scour the open air markets for decent jeans (okay, so those are better here), fabulous shoes (those are everywhere) and one of a kind fashions. STUFF is cheaper here. I can go to the dollar store and buy all my household cleaning products for under $10! I’d need about $50 in Italy. Food is more expensive; cars are cheaper, but I can expect to pay a few hundred dollars to take the license test. Getting around is a much bigger challenge… fewer roads, rail and bus strikes, and childcare if you don’t have a relative there???…. forget it. It’s damn near impossible to get a babysitter and then they earn as much as I did as an English teacher.

If I went back now, at least I’d be an American-educated Registered Nurse. I know that the University of Pittsburgh Medical Center has a hospital in Palermo, but I can’t see myself living in Sicily…. too many public works left undone that would drive me up the wall.

I miss the slower pace in Europe; the greater reverence for living and no one being able to keep up with the Joneses. I appreciate how easy it is to live in America compared to there; I really do! But there is just something about there as opposed to here. I also appreciate that we have a better education system, although that can depend a great deal on where you live in America. When I first moved there, it took me about four months to really adjust to their way of living. You learn to do without a lot of stuff. After awhile, however, you don’t miss it as much…. and after an even longer time, you can’t imagine why you ever wanted or needed anything except what you have. It’s a simpler life. A more reverent life. You learn to do without air conditioning or screens on your windows for that matter — you don’t need them. You drink homemade wine, eat the freshest tomatoes and learn the difference between a good olive oil and a bad one. And I swear the sun there doesn’t scorch your skin like it does here, even though the heat comes up from Africa! I NEVER burned there and never wore sunscreen, figure that one out.

I think what I miss more than anything is the history and walking by building after building that has stood for thousands of years. We don’t even have anything 500 years old here.

I remember sending pictures back to the States of my visit to the Roman Forum. My dear young nephew exclaimed, “Yuck, why would she want to live there? It’s so run down!” Well, I’d move back tomorrow if I didn’t have to pack and start all over again. My daughter would be at a disadvantage for forgetting her Italian, but she could be tutored or better yet, enrolled at the International school in Rome.

I have more “stuff”…. or should I say more “convenient stuff” here. I indulge in my favorite pastimes — garage sailing in the summer and sipping expensive coffees on the patio of Starbucks and traveling freely between the States. You would think the lure of the easy would quiet my wanderlust and quench any desire to live in a country where you have to buy extra milk on Fridays because you may not find an open store until Monday afternoon!

With all the conveniences available to me in a country where I am a natural born citizen, I have to ask myself, are the conveniences merely a temptation which prevent me from living the life that wants to live in me?

MJ burnout and Oh My God, high-caloric drinks!

Enough MJ already. The man was a gifted performer. So was Sinatra. There’s good news on the horizon, Project Runway starts up again soon, and we’ll get back to important conversations!

MSN had an article about the worst drinks on the planet. I’m guilty of loving peppermint mochas from Starbucks, but I’ve had to ask for soy milk because I’ve discovered dairy gives me migraines. Lovers of Cold Stone Creamery’s peanut butter and chocolate milkshake (PB&C) should be aware that the more appropriate name is “potbellies and cardiovascular disease.” It has more calories in it than you should eat in a day and 3-4 days worth of fat grams (depending on what you set you limit to per day). This drink scores the number 2 slot, if you want to know which drink equals 29 Fudgesicles and a stick and half of butter, go to MSN.

I’m thinking this summer is the nicest spring to summer transition since I can’t remember when. Temps in the 70s, some rain, but not torrential, flowers not wilting (and neither am I). Wish I could have this weather year round, but I think I’d have to move to Palm Springs. California is beautiful with the sun, sand and surf, but I like getting my tax refunds too much to let the state hold onto them for me!

Found lots of new tools to manage Twitter: Tweetgrid, Tweetscan, AskTwitR, TweetVolume, iTweet, Twitterfox, Twitterfeed, Twitterpatterns…. lots to discover and use! I already make use of Tweetdeck, check it out if you haven’t yet. You can even see your friends’ updates in Facebook and post to both Twitter and Facebook at the same time!

gloria