Say My Name , Say My Name

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about my name. Do you ever wonder where your name came from and why it was chosen? It seems like today names come from so many places. Some people name their kids after family members. Some name their kids after part of a family member so if the grandmother has some horrible name like Esther (that was my grandmother’s name so that is why it is particularly horrible). So for Esther parents would name their kid “Ther” or “Estie”. Some name their kids after their favorite movie or actor or singer.  And some people I think open up a baby name book, close their eyes and stick their finger in and get whatever they land on. One of my old bosses had twins and named them Alex and Ben I think because she called them Baby A and Baby B.

So why Laura?  I know I’ve asked many times before how that name came about and I can never remember the answer. It might have something to do with Hebrew or Yiddish names of my ancestors. I must say my name every day and type it and write it and hear it but sometimes I still don’t think of myself as a Laura. Your name is so much of your identity so I am not sure what Laura has to do with me. It’s not really a common name but am I a Laura? Sometimes I think of myself more of a Robin (my middle name). Not with a “Y”! Reese Witherspoon’s real name is Laura and she changed it to something cooler.

Don’t get me started when someone calls with Lori or Laurie.  It’s really not that hard to remember the name Laura. And at restaurants, why do I get called Maura? Since when does the “L” and “M” have the same sound?

I was almost a Molly, which would have been cute. There is a story behind that but for another time. If I was a guy, I would have been a Paul.

And how about Goldberg? How tied to that name am I? I have been a Goldberg for 38 years. Yesterday I saw my name on a shirt for work and I was thinking, “Goldberg sounds so harsh!”. It was one of those softball shirts so it was probably the first and only time a name like Goldberg was on one of those.


Special Delivery

Keep me posted. That’s a term we hear daily whether its for work or a special event in our personal lives. It’s origins come during the Colonial Era, if someone wanted to share news or information with the community, the person would post a note on a large wooden post. But today we just use it any time we want to know some information or get some news.

However, keep me posted just reminds me of my annoyance of the postal system lately so I am going to try to stop using it. I still can’t forgive the post office for telling me that they couldn’t send me stamps for 5-7 days.

What really gets me though is delivery service.  Is it just me or does every delivery say it will get to me by the end of the day and it always comes at the end of the day? So my biggest question to you is, if every single package is getting delivered by the end of the day who is getting packages in the morning and afternoon? What exactly is going on in those trucks? Is that what the term special delivery means? If you get your package in the morning, that means your special?

Oh Bloody Hell

I love getting my blood drawn. I think it’s fun to watch the blood coming out of my veins in that vibrant red color. I love seeing where the nurse or doctor or phlebologist look for my vein and watch as the blue vein gets thicker and thicker. Yesterday I got some blood drawn and the nurse said “I don’t see many people with sideways veins.” So I replied, “Well I like to be different from other people.” I have never gotten that comment before. I usually just get told that I have excellent veins. Obviously.

I’ve gotten a lot of blood work done in the past few months.  One time I had about 6 vials taken so that was cool. Then another time I got 13 vials taken and that was even cooler. I am probably in the minority for the nurses when I get excited to sit down.

I say all of this because despite my love of having my blood taken out for testing I have never given blood. Pick your jaw up from the ground. Stop judging me. It’s not that I don’t think about it and it’s not about me not wanting to help my fellow man. The reason is simple (and also just ridiculous). I was afraid that my blood wouldn’t get accepted because I would have HIV. I have absolutely no reason to believe that I would have HIV but since college I have been too afraid to get tested or give blood because of the fear I put in my mind that I had it even though I knew that I didn’t.

Once I got really close to getting tested. My primary sent me for a lab because I asked her to and I climbed the stairs and got to the door and then turned around because I couldn’t do it. I was just so terrified of what the result would be that I couldn’t get out of my own way when it came to this. Another time at my old job they set up an office for people to give blood and I walked in and filled out the paperwork and then decided I couldn’t do it.

Maybe this fear of mine came from a complete lack of distrust I have for primary care physicians and how much I have been judged by them in the past for whatever reason. I remember going to the doctor in high school and my usual primary was out so I had to see a random guy doctor. He looked at my boobs and said “Wow. Those are nice. You should keep those.” Another time a doctor did a bunch of STD testing on me when I told him he didn’t have to. This was before I moved to London for a semester in college. He did this because I said I had a steady boyfriend. Well fast forward a month and I get a call from my father (the one I have NEVER told a personal thing to in my entire life), and he says “Your doctor just called me to tell me you don’t have syphilis.” I was horrified! Of course I didn’t!! Another time I went to my primary and asked to go back on birth control pills (because of my irregular periods) and she looked at my hand and asked to see a ring.

Well fast forward years and years to three weeks ago.  One of those 13 vials was for HIV. There was nothing I could do about it. It was out of hands to walk away. My brain was waiting and waiting for the doctor to call and say “Can you please come in.” Instead, I got a call from the nurse and she said “All your tests look good.”  So now I know. I don’t have HIV, I wasted years being afraid I did and, now I can start to give blood. So prick away my nurse friends.  Prick away!

I’ve got nothing

I went to therapy today and the session lasted like 20 minutes. Why? Because I didn’t really have anything that was bothering me at all. I am doing everything I am supposed to be doing and I feel pretty good.  It was funny. And I am not used to that AT ALL! I was talking about going to the gym, and feeling good and not crying and getting excited for vacation and liking my job and hanging with friends and having a good relationship and planning my future.  It was awesome. So I paid the $25 copay and left without the pitied look of a therapist’s face.  Go me!

Seeds and Nuts

I’ve been wanting a bird feeder for years. Before living in Dover I’ve always had apartments where I didn’t really have the ability to have a bird feeder so it was something I always thought about. I love watching the birds at my parents house and part of me wanting to live in NH was being able to live in a place where I could also have one.

Now I have an awesome house with two porches and a back patio so my bird watching experience could be limitless. (Yes, that was dramatic intentionally).

The first step was to figure out where to get bird feeder. I looked online and places like Target but nothing was doing it for me. K and I always laughed about the bird feeder store called Wild Birds Unlimited. I mean an entire store just about bird feeders and seeds? How does something like that even survive?

Well I was wrong.  I went there yesterday and was really surprised on my experience.  Who knew there were so many types of feeders and poles and contraptions I could buy. The man helping me was the owner and you could tell that he just loved his job. He knew everything about feeders. food, nuts…anything to do with birds.

Of course I bought the most expensive feeder because why wouldn’t I? It’s a squirrel proof feeder with a lifetime guarantee. I also bought the entire system to put it into the ground and a hummingbird feeder. He taught me all about the nectar for the feeder and offered me up a recipe.  Who knew.  A recipe for sugar water. He helped me pick the best seed and even knew which birds ate the different types of seeds.  He showed me the inner workings of the feeder and how to clean it.

I don’t think I’ve had that kind of positive shopping experience in forever. I probably would have spent $400 if I didn’t stop myself. I probably would have set up a osprey nest in my background and let’s face it, those birds won’t make the trip down to Dover when they can enjoy the beauty of Acadia National Park or Naples, Florida.

Now will I be the type of nut to sit in my yard with my binoculars and Audubon book all day? No. That won’t be happening. But I am excited to finally have something I have wanted for years.

Insight, Eyesight, Hindsight

I had an eye doctor appointment today. I love going to the eye doctor. I look forward to it every year. When I was a kid I wanted to be an optometrist. I thought it was the coolest career. The doctor got to use all these cool gadgets and machines and I thought the doctor was the smartest man on earth because he knew how to read all the numbers on the machines.

When I was a kid they still used the paper eye charts. Today, the only paper you see at the eye doctor is the receipt from the credit card for the $80 extra it costs to get checked for contact lenses.

My experience today was so cool. First they did the typical measurements and the pop of air in each eye. But next came the photo of my eye. They took a picture of my eye all the way to the back of my head! Fascinating!

I always think it is so funny when they give you two options of letters and you have to choose which is the most clear. I always panic a little because I don’t want to get it wrong. I know there isn’t a “wrong” answer but I never know if the answer I am giving is going to make me have worse eyesight than the year before.

The best part of my appointment today was when I got to see the photos of my eyes behind my head. It was like a beautiful painting with lines and circles and colors. I wanted to get a copy of the photo so I could enlarge it and frame it on my wall. She told me that I had an exquisite retina and took a gorgeous photo. It was one of the most beautiful she has seen.

Well, I guess that brings a whole new meaning to the term beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

Side note:  My right eye did get worse. But only be. 25. But still.

Who said I shouldn’t be in human services?

My family all work in the human services field. They are either social workers, or OT or counselors or like to sit down and listen to people. With the exception of my father who is an engineer. I remember my sister once told me that I probably didn’t really belong in the human services field. I worked in that field in marketing for years and pretty much hated every single second of it. I remember once there was one guy who would bite people so the guy had to have a 24 hour aid to stay with him to make sure he didn’t bite anyone. I asked my friend why they didn’t just pull his teeth out because it seemed like that would just be easier and save some money.

Well I think I am a pretty good listener and I am known to give some good advice too. It might have something to do with my amazing intuition about people and my ability to notice things most people would never see. It also has a lot to do with my inability to understand why people don’t stick up for themselves and why they take crap from others.

I’ve decided that maybe I could use these talents to my benefit and make a career out of it. The other day I helped a friend write a breakup letter to a girl she was dating (or just started to date). I figured a letter was fine for the amount of time they were together. It really depends nowadays…some need texts, some letters, some a phone call will be okay. Others perhaps need a in-person meeting.  None ever deserve a breakup FB message though. There are limits.

What if I started a service like or something. People could pay me to write up the emails and texts. It could be a one-time fee or if the conversation went back and forth for a week after that, I could just charge a la carte for any future texts or email explanations.

Some people get it right away. Some people cry. Some people are in disbelief. Some people are angry. Some people want to make you feel guilty. Some people wan to make you feel like a horrible person. No matter what the case, I would have an answer and a reply and you would never have to deal with any of it.