Who Iz that lady, anywho?

Oprah issued an assignment yesterday. I do watch the Oprah show, although I must admit to thinking she seems to enjoy her role of being media guru and the saving goddess to everyone in the world. Sometimes it seems like overkill when her viewers get to see her new bathroom in her bazillion-dollar new home, her extravagant birthday parties with all her rich friends, or what cuddly jammies she wears to bed while reading all those books.

Is there anything we don't know about Oprah? I'm one to talk, I guess, cuz I put a lot out there for folks to digest. I realized long ago that to share the misery---bad toenails, hideous girdles, public humiliation at the style review, encounters with mad cows--makes a lot of it go away or, at least, not seem so bad when I find out others may deal with similar situations. Maybe that's what Oprah does too.

Well, anyway, Oprah's assignment was for all the women of the world to figure out who they are. This assignment, which is part of a bigger long-term Oprah project, came at the end of a show where several women confessed publicly that they let themselves go after being dumped or abused by men, employers, etc. Most had gained weight, quit wearing make-up, turned into couch potatoes and started watching a lot of TV. Some told of their public "got-it-all-together" persona vs their private inner turmoil.

Oprah sat listening to each and reminding everyone that she's the poster child for bad things happening to good people, specifically sexual abuse as a child. Then, she asked that these women and all those out there watching, sit down and figure out, "Who am I?" Not "What do I do?"

So, that's what I'm pondering this morning as I sit here in my dumpy sweatshirt, sloppy jeans and Vicksed-up toenails. I read in the newspaper a few weeks ago that you can get rid of your bad toenails by smothering them in Vick Vapor Rub twice daily for several months. So my big toenails are down there on the floor b-r-e-a-t-h-i-n-g deeply the fumes from this morning's application of Vicks.

Well, anyway, who am I? Let's see, I can't tell what I do, so that's not who I am. Okay, I'm a hick. Have been since Day One. No matter what brand of Nordstrom's lipstick I wear, that doesn't take the hick out of me. I like being a slob most of the time. I'm like President Bush where if the expectations are low, people are pleasantly surprised when I show up with a bit more polish than usual.

I'm mostly Irish, so when I get mad, I get really mad. I do yell and cuss and throw things. Early in our marriage, Bill developed a standard one-liner for every time he sensed he'd struck a raw chord. "Now, doncha go throwin' things," he'd say. That warning came after he'd ducked several launchings of salad or pancake batter in the kitchen.

Irish people don't stay mad long. They're just pretty intense while their corpuscles are threatening to burst. Then, it's over. They go on about their business and maybe stew a little, talking under their breath and having discussions with themselves---always being right, of course!

The real me is a chameleon---very public yet very, very private. I always list people as one of my most valued interests, yet I value my quiet time away from people as if it were gold. I'm a home body who loves my space both inside and out. There's a lot about me that no one will ever know but me. I tend to believe that Mark Twain quote where each person is a moon---one side illuminated for all to see, while the dark side is mysterious.

I would never hurt a flea, knowingly. I'm very sensitive. I'm much too perceptive about others and their problems for my own good because I do worry about what people think and worry about how people feel. I don't like to see people unhappy and wish I could do something to heal all wounds, but life and age have taught me to be realistic and know that we can't do it all. Sometimes, people have to heal their own wounds. I believe that process makes them stronger.

Wow, Oprah, look at what you did to me by giving that assignment! There's more, but I'll save that for another day, like the parts about being judgmental yet cautious, loving nature and all her plants and animals more than just about anything, considering family as my rock.

I'm also very responsible, and I've got work to do this morning. So, I'll quit talking about who I am and discuss what I have to do today: craft a story, go over a former student's applications for grad school, rake a few more leaves, and get ready for the lawnmower man.

Back to Oprah's assignment later. Who are you?