Best of the Year

My third annual year in review ... totally irrelevant, completely useless and purely Stacey.

My favorites ...

Three Words to Describe 2008: Change, Obama, Giants

TV Show: Three way tie: Grey's Anatomy, Doctor Who, Sarah Connor Chronicles

New TV Show:  (new to me) Dexter!

Song: You Found Me ~ The Fray

Book: The Lazarus Vendetta ~ Robert Ludlum

Movie (in Theater): I don’t think I went to any movies this year … how very sad

Movie (Rental): Capote

Biggest NFL Surprise: Miami Dolphins

Biggest NFL Disappointment: the New Orleans Saints

I'll turn the channel when: any thing with The Former or Sarah Palin on!

Celeb I'm sick of: The Former

Gift Given: Adele CD for Sarah

Gift Received: Get Fuzzy Calendar

Best new tradition/habit: Thursdays with Bob Ross

Commercial:  that Mercedes-Benz commercial with the guy with the sexy voice

Traveling: down that rocky road of adulthood

KoL: 10 million meat and the Boring Crimbo (not my favorite, but notable)

Wine: 9 ~ Moscato Asti, sparkling wine to toast the Giant’s Victory

Best Blog: Dooce.com

Other Notables: Finally! We have friendly cats … Sassy, George, Benny, Ava and Dexter (Ava and Dexter are gone, but we’re kept busy with the other three)

Here's to 2009 and GW out of office!

Death by Twang

Just tell me Fast.fm who do you think you are playing country music when there's only three damn country songs in my library?

Then SKIP OVER songs I would actually listen to only to stop at a f'ing Shania Twain song?

Are you trying to kill me (or make me uninstall you)?  What part of favorite artists: goo goo dolls, +44, Blink 182, Stroke 9, Fergie DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND??

Plays music based on your music listening patterns my butt!

Spit in the face of a weak stomach

Reading Dooce I discovered a new web site (seriously folks, I  am addicted, someone needs to invent a dooce patch stat! or I might start shaking at work from withdrawal).

Okay ... so this site is NOT for the faint of heart or those with a weak stomach ... unless you're a daredevil who spits in the face of a weak stomach.

It's actually like watching a scary/slasher movie ... from behind your hands.  Seriously.  I'm concerned the neighbors might think there's something horribly wrong ... I'm screaming that much (and I've only looked at two!).

Check out THIS SITE if you can handle it.

OH. MY. GOD.

Now that 2008 is out of the way ...

First, I must preface that this post has a lot of passion behind it.  It's the fanstastic part of football, that release of emotion, great highs and stunning lows.  However, I am going to do my best to separate as much emotion from this as I can. 

Unbiasness I cannot guarantee, but this is my blog.  So I can write what I want, as skewed as it may be.

Now you might suggest this would have a different tune if Brett Favre (please note, henceforth referred to as The Former) and the J-E-T-S were playoff bound.  Not at all.  My points would be the same, but I wouldn't be able to say I TOLD YOU SO!  You may have a better record, but your stats pale compared to Aaron Rodgers.

Okay, now I have all my prologue points out of the way.

The 2007 off season The Former proved me wrong about this and that.  Hey, no hard feelings.  Actually, I have no problem that The Former changed his mind.  There have been many Packer greats (that have left the team either through retirement or free agency) to go on to play or coach for other organizations.  Robert Brooks, Antonio Freeman, Ahman Green, Ryan Longwell, Craig Hendrich, Reggie White, Travis Jervey ... oh yeah, and Vince Lombardi ... just to name a few. 

Okay, so TJ isn't apples to apples.  But Reggie is a Legend.  Robert and Free were the best wide receivers of the Super Bowl teams.  And Ryan and Craig are in the top tier of players at their position.

So, as my mom said, "Why didn't you disown TJ like you are [The Former]?"

It's not because he un-retired.  It's how he did it.

First we must remember the six year debate.  Every December, could this be his last game?  Every off season, playing with the media.  And in recent years, waiting until just before the draft to make the come-back decision.

Finally the other cleat dropped.  March 4, 2008.  Then his tearful goodbye.  If nothing else, I've just expended way too much emotion on him, that I just have no more warm and fuzzies for him left in me.

Shortly after the 2008 draft, rumors start floating around that he wanted to come back.  Here's when it starts turning sour.  He denies some and is ambiguous with others.  Then he announces he never wanted to retire and the Packers forced him out.

Packers tell him in no uncertain terms that he cannot just come back and be the starting quarterback.  It's now July and the team has moved on.  August: Family Night comes and he returns to Green Bay with his wife and watches the scrimmage from a sky box.

And he's all like "What? I'm [The Former] I'll come and be your QB, because, do you know who I am?  Awe shucks, I'm a good ole' country boy wearing wrangers."  (okay...the unbiased field lapsed there, all systems restored)


This is the epitome of the true void of class he showed during the situation.  Instead of keeping it in-house, he made a spectacle.  The team paid him obscene amounts of money and love during his career.  And he showed the organization, players and fans no respect.

He went to the playground and started slinging mud.

I get that he still has that passion and abitlity to play.  Either don't retire or work with the Packers for a trade.  If they play hardball take it to the Players Association or the Commish himself.  Don't whine to the media you childish asshole.

That's right, I said it.

I always revered The Former for his child-like passion for the game.  But off the field matters are business.  This is not a family--which is what we all forgot.

I have lost respect for him as a person and professional.  I have a hard time respecting people who preach and live by one set of standards but then abandon these "values" and "character" when the chips are down.  It reveals a very different person... like the situations with Desmond Howard, Mike Holmgren and Dorsey Levens.  All disowned in my eyes.  But with time the disdain has decreased and I know it'll be the same with The Former.

I never would have admited it while he was here, but the distance allowed me to see what everyone was saying: The Former held the Packers hostage.  That is, until Ted Thompson had the balls to say you're done.  We've moved on.  To a younger, shinier, hotter model.

And boy did that piss The Former off.

I wish I could attribute this thought.  It was either Dan Patrick or Mike Turico.  When the Packers said (hell) no, we don't want you back, The Former came back to prove the Packers needed him more than he needed the Packers.  Well you may have a better record, but we're both watching Wild Card Weekend at Home.  (and may I point out the new shiny model's stats again?)

I've always acknowledged The Former's faults (and I love pointing them out more now Mr. Leads the League in Interceptions).  I accepted them because it was a part of the package: the anguish, the excitement.  What I was going to miss the most was that special spark on the field.  But hot damn, the kid has it too!  Packer fans we're in good hands.

To The Former: Good luck and thank you.  But go away.

To all you so-called-Packer fans buying jerseys and the god-damned television stations being the "official" station of an AFC TEAM in the fucking NFC NORTH ....

I respect you even less than I do The Former.

You know you have a problem when ...

Four days away.  SO MUCH INTERNET TO CATCH UP ON.

Anything but Maple Nut

It snowed again.  So I must remove the snow.  I'm sorry ... talking about weather again.  How uninteresting.  I swear I won't do it again ... at least not any more this year.

Day two of vacation ... it's 12:18 ... and I'm not dressed.  Darn.  I ate breakfast, had coffee, two episodes of Curious George and one of Martha Speaks in honor of Sarah and brother Ben.  I have to finish wrapping presents today ... something I've been saying I'll do for at least the last week.  I don't know why it's such a pain this year.

My thumbs hurt.  And it has nothing to do with the fact that I cut my thumb right through the nail.  That's actually not painful at all--as long as the nail doesn't separate or rip.  Thank you inventors of nail glue--bet they didn't dream that I'd one day use it as a band-aid.  ANYWAY my thumbs ache for no reason I can think of.  They hurt so much that it's painful to pick up my water bottle, coffee cup, dish soap.

I guess this means I don't have to do dishes!

So my big ponder today was what to eat for lunch.  I'm having leftover jambulya for supper and that doesn't leave much else in my fridge (beyond hunks of squash and cranberries that I have to find some way to use).  I have the last bit of my Irish Beef Stew leftover ... but I'm so sick of it (be proud, I resisted the urge to use all caps).

I made it about a month ago and froze half.  Even freezing that much I ate leftovers for at least a week.  And when the last bit was gone ... I probably did a happy dance.  It was good.  Not the best, but tasty.  After a week though ... it made my eyeballs nausious.  And I'm a person who cannot eat the same thing two days in a row, the same cereal, flavor of coffee, soda ... etc, etc.  I blame my father and his ever-loving Maple Nut Ice Cream and unwilliness to try something new (that doesn't include any of the following salts: garlic, seasoning or celery).

But over the weekend I thought I had enough time between the first week of stew and now.  So I pulled it out and had it as a quick supper.  The first night it was good ... by lunch the next day my eyeballs were threatening to barf all over the kitchen.

With very little options (perhaps popcorn? PB&J or maybe a pizza??) I came up with a brilliant idea.  I made my nearly famous fried potatos and then heated up the stew, drained some of the excess liquid and BOOM! Irish Beef with peas and carrots over fried potatos.  I think even my dad would be proud.

A KoL Note, brief because I don't want to be that person .... Crimbo is so uninteresting this year.  And the lag makes it so tedious to get through the adventures ... for very little drops.  Maybe Jick & Co. will whip out something fantastic (I just hope I don't miss it), but ususally ... it's something I look forward too ... and there my KoL tab is sitting, neglected.

And lo she is dressed before 11 a.m. (by two minutes)

It is 11:02 and I'm watching my second episode of Curious George, drinking my first cup of fantastic coffee and contently reading (and laughing hysterically) dooce.com.  Ah the complete joys of vacation.

I have a confession that I'm not quite sure is so secret.  I LOVE PBS.  And all the children's shows that go with it.  Well, not all ... I'm not a huge fan of Barney or Super Why.  And I can only watch Sesame Street through flipping or if I'm in the right mood.  I think my love of PBS is because it opened my eyes to the world of imagination and learning. My favorite parts of Mr. Roger's Neighborhood was when he watched how something was made and the Land of Make Believe (it devastated me when I realized Mr. Rodgers was the voice of King Friday and others).

I've never grown out of PBS.  I enjoy their adult programming: cooking shows, home improvement, the occassional Broadway presenation and the like.  But I just can't shake those children shows.  Is it the cartoon aspect (oh yeah, I still watch Saturday morning cartoons--love me some Care Bears and Jane and the Dragon) or is it that these shows focus on the best value of entertainment--making the impossible or improbable happen every time--because they can and it's more fun that way. 

To that end, I've discovered Curious George.  I never was much interested in that little monkey as a kid (the books).  But he's so entertaining now.  On the show George and The Man in the Yellow Hat have two homes.  Their primary residence is in the city and they have a country home for weekends and summer. 

At the country home, one neighbor kid calls George a City Kid.  I am absolutely convinced that he DOES NOT KNOW GEORGE IS A MONKEY.  (Sorry for the caps ... it's from reading dooce).  For the record, as far as I can tell, all the other residents recognize George is a monkey. 

And what a cute little monkey he is.  So darn cute ... which is mostly why I watch it.  The narration is clever and so is George.  Monkeys often find ways to take completely normal situations, get into trouble and then must be clever to get themselves out of trouble--even after The Man in the Yellow Hat tells George to be a good little monkey.  I try that with my monkey-who-thinks-he's-a-kitty George.  I can't tell if it works.  But then again, I suppose it doesn't work too well with Curious George.

How unenjoyable

You know on second thought it probably wasn't a good idea to do dishes.  Especially since I'm having a strange adversion to wet hands.  Drying them on a towel after I wash each dish probably isn't going to work so well.

Taking all I have not to drop the F bomb

It really annoys me to no end when you ask me why it took so long to answer the phone.  First, get it through your head that it rings more on your end before it even STARTS ringing on my end.  Then, do you think I'm perched by the phone waiting for your call?

You should just be damn well pleased I answered it during Grey's Anatomy.

Can I just stay in bed?

We were hit with a dose of Wisconsin weather.  Saturday and most of Sunday it almost felt balmy.  It was so warm that our snow started melting  and it rained on Sunday.  Rain! In December!

Of course, Mother Nature being the cruel lady she is, today temps were negative with a -30 degree windchill.  -30.  All was well in my cozy little house.  My mom had to make a point in inquiring how low I had my furance set.  After threats of frozen pipes and horrific damage that would leave me curled up in a ball rocking and sobbing to myself in the corner--so I turned up the temp. 

But she planted the seed.  And I woke up every hour.

First random noises woke me.  What was that?  Is that the sound of a frozen pipe?  If I open my eyes will I see the Gremlins of Burst Pipes running around wreaking havoc?  Will the bathroom and kitchen be flooded?  Or would it be frozen over, my own indoor skating rink?

If it wasn't Bursting Pipe radar waking me up, it was the furance kicking on.  Or NOT kicking on ... oh the humanity is it so cold the furance is dead and I've lost the heating battle?

All this lost sleep kept me in bed trying to steal a few winks after my alarm went off.  So I trudge out at the last possible second to dress, eat breakfast, make lunch and start my car.

I got to the last task at 7:45 (only five minutes behind schedule).  So I walk out all bundled up, braving the -30 degree wind chills and push the button on my garage door opener.  And ... nothing.  Okay, bad angle ... nadda.  I'm inside the garage now so I try the button on the wall.  It starts.  It stops.  Hmmm.  Starts and ... nothing.  Ah man, the door is frozen to the cement.

I salt it, chip at it, and kick it with no luck.  A little sunshine and some salt action later (and by later I mean the end of the day) my door is opening and closing like nobody's business.

Sunday...football...Dan Patrick...Keith Olberman....Seth MacFarlane....perfection

Today was an incredibly productive Sunday.  Quite possibly the most productive in the history of time ... at least my recent history.

The Christmas Episode of American Dad is my FAVORITE!  And it's only about 48 percent because Seth MacFarlane is the voice of God.  Seriously.  Perfect.

Must resist urge to worship Seth MacFarlane

Tonight we're going to get our first major snowstorm of the season.  They say totals are going to be any where from 4 to 10+ inches.  The "future forecast" shows that in my neck of the woods will be around six inches.  Oh goodie.

I used my snowblower for the first time today.  In preparation for this huge snowfall I figured I better know how to start and operate it so I can get out of my driveway and go to work (though I would much rather just stay in my house and read blogs, watch television and play games all day).  I figured it out and effectively cleared my driveway (with it's less than two inches of snow pile up) in 15 minutes or less.  God bless modern machinery. 

I shoveled around 2.5 inches the other day and it took me around 30 minutes.  Add this to my sustaining memories of HOURS of raking and bagging leaves.  And the really horrible part is that leaves should only be raked one time (that is when your neighbor's tree doesn't dump all it's leaves until after your beautiful clean yard is cleared) tangent aside ... leaves need to be raked once or twice.  Snow can be every damn day!

I think we've gotten around a half inch.  I don't know when it happened, because I've been sitting by the window the whole time.

I Love the new Peyton Manning commericial for World MasterCard.  The people around him are telling him to take a hike, choke on it, you're going down.  And he says "Yeah, I'll cut it up into little pieces and put it in a fruit salad" (and the like).

Brilliant.

Peyton has come a long way since his first two years in the NFL.  I remember watching an interview and he was saying what his routine was, studying, living with a legendary father.  And part of the interview he showed his closet, organized by his wife so he can pick out something suitable to wear when she's not home. 

I remember thinking to myself that this man is a very clever man, a football genius, but didn't have the ability to match a pair of pants with a shirt.  The whole interview was very awkward.

And now that awkward man is a funny, personable, clever man.

I have a cramp in my left leg.  It's really annoying. 

Snow update: none has arrived since that half inch that mysteriously fell earlier.

I have a couple of blogs cooking up in my head.  And if I ever put pen to paper they're going to be really good.  Really Good.

But ... well ... I've been reading dooce.com.  A lot.  It has me transfixed.  I found it through a Copyblogger newsletter and the post I read had me laughing out loud.  I had to share it was Sarah and she loved it too.  Dooce is famous for losing her job because she wrote about it on her blog.  She started writing in 2001. 

And I'm in 2004.  I didn't read it all weekend ... and I missed it. 

Goals for this week:  1. Sweep the house.  2. Finish the online Christmas shopping (for the love of god stop procrastinating!)  3. Start wrapping presents and write some cards out.

I think that's about enough.  If I can pull myself away from the old adventures of dooce, the bearded husband, chuck and baby Leta ... I might get something done!

(oooh and the Advent for Adventurers Season Started .... mutated elves and penguins glore in Crimbo Town, WHoohoo!)

Is it masking insecurity?

I do not trust ... and am increasingly more annoyed by men who laugh after they make a statement.

"If you go down the street you'll find that the buildings are 3 feet apart .... huh huh huhuh"

"Oh of course, to do that you must first identify x to help you figure out if y will truly be effective.  Heh ha ha heh."

It's a nervous laugh, not a happy one or contentuous one.

But it creeps me out.

This time I sat on the steps and cried

I had big plans for tonight.

I was going to work very little for a fabulous and healthy supper. 

I was going to watch Bob Ross and the Joy of Painting.

I was going to set my fantasy teams.

I was going to put away the clutter on the counter.

I was going to do dishes and put away last night's dishes.

I was even going to fold clothes and label newsletters.

But all of that was gone in one beep .... and then 5 minutes later three beeps ..... again, and again and again.

Remember that episode of Friends?  Pheobe realizes her smoke detector is beeping, so she takes out the battery ... but it keeps beeping.  She smashes it into pieces and it continues to beep.  She throws it down the garbage shoot and it's returned to her ... still beeping.

It was that.

But I didn't know what was beeping or where it was coming from.

And that's a good way to put me into the crazy house.  Give me a beeping that I can't stop.

I was getting dinner *BEEP*   Sitting down to watch Bob Ross ... it's over, I got the wrong time.

*BEEP*BEEP*BEEP*

Okay, what the fuck is that? 

I sit in the living room.  Nothing.

I walk in the kitchen, stand there for awhile.  Nothing.

I open the back door and walk down to the basement. Nothing.

I figure since I'm down there I could do a load of laundry.  I get the washer going and notice my laundry basket isn't down here.  So I went upstairs and took the laundry off the rack up there and transfer it to the kitchen table.  Then I take the laundry basket it to take it back downstairs to get those clothes off the line. 

*BEEP*BEEP*BEEP*

There it was again, and loud that time.  So back downstairs I go, that's the only place I could think the beeping might come from.  I get the laundry off the line and take it back upstairs to sit on the table with it's white counter parts.

*BEEP*

Okay, so now I'm convinced it's in the basement.  So I sit. in. the. basement. for. 20 minutes.

Nothing.

Go back upstairs.  *BEEP*BEEP*BEEP*

Okay, where are the fucking cameras, ha ha the joke is over.


I wish.


I walk around the house again and hear it faintly in the living room, but not in the kitchen.


Fail safe.  Call the parents.

Is it the stove? No. Microwave? No. Radio? Dishwasher? Alarm? TV? Laptop?

NO!!!!!!

Finally (and 45 minutes later) I wander upstairs (which I don't like doing at night, don't judge me, I believe in spooks).

No beeps, nothing that could beep.

Until ... a smoke detector.

I touch it .................... the beeping is loud, it's the beeping, and it doesn't stop.

So I take out the battery ... and thank god, the beeping stops.


But the tears start.  This damn battery with it's damn beeping shows me how vulernable and helpless I can be.

I just can't take beeping.

Conspiracy Untheories

1. I respect Romo less for dating the blond bimbo.
2. I am so sick of doing dishes.
3. Life is so overwhelming.
4. I'm in a music rut.
5. I didn't do it I swear--unless I was supposed too ... then I did.
6. I haven't gone to the movies in forever.
7. I have a monkey named George who thinks he's a kitty, he also plays like a dog.
8. I also have a kitty who gets that sinister look of his namesake, Dexter.  He likes to untie my shoes.
9. The Skins are owning the Cowboys in every department so far except the uni's.  They look like they're wearing ugly red and orange couch upholstery.
10. What do you get for the person who has everything?
11. I want the new Goo Goo Doll CD!
12. Is drinkability even a word?
13. Dear G.W.,  Ha, ha!
14. Holy craptastic--he had six plates on his arm.
15. F'ing Patriots, don't win when I root for them.
16. I see things that aren't there ... like words.  Los Angeles ... where the heck did my brain pull it from?

They're all trying to kill me

Four times today four separate vehicles turned a corner (or pulled out of a driveway too widely), came into the wrong lane and nearly t-boned me.

The O-Line Lost the Vikes Game

For the love of Pete, can the offensive line of the Green Bay Packers get any more penalties?  (channeling Chandler there, by the way)

Sadly, and slightly teriffingly, the answer is yes.  They mentioned several times during today's Viking-Packer game that the Packers are leading the league in penalties.  Late in the third quarter, that totaled 65 yards.

And it's not just the penalities, they're not protecting Rodgers.  The two ends are getting old--and yes that means you Tauscher.  There's a reason the past two years hasn't had a running game and that there were two safeties in ONE quarter.  They aren't holding their blocks, following through or making the black in the first place.

Yes, Rodgers is probably holding the ball too long ... it's his ninth? game. That quick release will come in time.  For self preservation alone.  But the man should be able to do three step drop, make two reads and release.  He didn't even have enough time scramble.  And the man can scramble.
I'm not sure why or how there's so many yards on the Packers run defense.  I always thought they were solid up the middle and run only got away from them when they were overly-centric about bull-rushing the quarterback.

Did anyone noticed the Packers axed Kabeer Gbaja Biamila?  Nothing was on any of the pregame shows, or in the Packer's e-updates.  Now, I'm not saying it was a bad move.  He wasn't producing, but he was the heart and soul of the Packers defense (before Aaron Kampman) -- not Nick Barnett as some are trying to convince us.  Barnett hasn't done anything the past year either.

Is the season lost?  No, but they need to shore up the play on both lines.  They also need to stop the penalties.  I understand agressive play.  I understand the ref seeing something that wasn't there. 65+ yards is not acceptible. And if the touchdown wouldn't have been called back due to a false start there would be one more W on the postive side. 

Change isn't always something to fear

Last week was that of extremes.

We enjoyed beautiful weahter of 60-70 degrees  for four days and then at the end of the week it snowed.  Saturday the snow stuck.  I look out my windows today to patches of our white enemy on the ground here and there.

I suppose we're lucky though.  If it would have snowed on Wednesday it would have been blizzard conditions. It rained, it poured.  It thundered and lightnening.  It took out our power at work.  That was an experience.

I look a little Medusa right now. My hair is not quite long enough in the front to stay in a pony tail, so I either put pins in it or use headbands.  Well the only problem is that it pulls out and goes all over ... hence the Medusa vibes I'm working right now.

I realized this unfortunate hair-do when I went to brush my teeth.  I've been having dreams the past two weeks about my teeth.  They have rotted, fallen out and discolored.  Now I know that dreaming about your teeth generally means that you regret what you've said.  I really can't think of anything I've should have been quiet about.  So I'm thinking it might be that general nagging feeling for falling asleep without brushing my teeth.  I figure either way I'll just play it safe.

I plugged in my Clapper on Wednesday night.  I was annoyed that I had to wander through darkness to turn on a light and risk spilling my water or juggling whatever I had in my hands.  When I nearly tipped the light off the endtable I finally decided I needed to pull out the good old Clapper. 

What they don't tell you in the "Clap on, Clap off" commerical is that everything else turns on the clapper too: sneezing, laughing, putting away pots and pans, dropping things, closing the closet door, yelling at the television ....

It's 10 o'clock ... more polls close

Barack carries ... California ....

ohmigod, and they announce he's been elected president.

I didn't think it would happen so fast.  A huge weight has been lifted off our country.  I cannot wait for 2009!!

Obama to 200

In honor of 200 electoral votes for Obama.

BLUE BLOG

(with a little red to honor a country I'll finally be proud of)

Proud to be Blue

Wisconsin came in.   Obama.

Overall: 175 to 76

Dems gain four Senate seats.

Antcipation

Anticipation.  Eight years in the making.

I cannot imagine continuing in the darkness we are in ...

So far Barack Obama has secure New Hampshire and Pennsylvania.

I cannot believe as I read the status updates from people ... so many for McCain.  But more for Obama.

At least the "noncaring" generation is voting!

So excited!

I woke up early today.  I got up, got dressed, made coffee.

My only regret is I don't have any good blue clothes to wear other than logo wear.

But I have my Barack Obama '08 pin on!  I drove to my new polling place.

Registered.

Voted.

I voted!!!  And hopefully, for the NEXT PRESIDENT OF THE USA.

Made me laugh so hard ...

McLovin (resident blogger for the Dan Patrick radio show) reporting on site for the Phillies victory parade celebrating their World Series win.

Dan: How's the parade?

McLovin: It's crazy their not letting me go out.    And I'm trying to blog. There are two million people here. And these houligans on my right look like their going to smash my computer ... I'm having some issues.

...

Dan: What do you do now,  parade, have cheese steak...?

McLovin: I'll see where the crowd goes, I'm thinking I might light a car on fire. I haven't really decided yet.  definately a little bit of civil disobienence

Dan: Be careful.

McLovin: If I'm not back on monday just know I've been trampled.

Dan: Oh okay, we'll start without you ...

Portraits Hung in Empty Halls

I enjoy the idea of painting ... but really, am quite horrible at it. And I mean painting on canvas not walls, I can do that, I'm good, but there's not much to be bad at.  But after painting the living room ... I don't want to think about painting walls any time soon.

I can draw (much to my mom's surprise, which doesn't make sense) and I have a graphic eye when it comes to laying out a page for a newsletter or invitation.  I'm not the best by any means, but a litte more than average. I also have a knack for collages (even if it might be pleasing to mostly my own eye).

But when it comes to painting a scene, still life or anything on canvas ... I just suck.  When I was a kid I would watch the painting shows on PBS with awe.  So much so that my dad made me an easel.  Plus I was an "artist" for halloween once--pallet, white overshirt stained with colors and a off kilter berret.

In high school, I very excitedly took a mixed mediums class.  There we would learn many different methods and styles: pencil, ink, paint (acrylic) and pottery.  I exceled  at the pencil and was average at the rest.  But I royally was disappointed in my painting ability.

I haven't visited that skill since.

Late this summer, I discovered "Create" a channel from PBS that has travel shows, cooking, gardening, home repair and crafts.  And one afternoon, none other than my old friend Bob Ross was on!  The Joy of Painting.  I watched it for a laugh (reminising at the Family Guy bit where he put a bush in the corner and then threatened the viewers) at first because he's an odd fellow and always had to put that big dark (mostly dead) tree in the foreground of his paintings.  In most cases I thought it ruined the whole thing.

Now I watch Bob with fresh eyes.  I see why I'm such a horrible painter.  When I look at grass: I see green and the blades of grass, appreciating the beauty of their intricacy.  But Bob knew to look at grass in a painting first you had to start with a dark color, with a hint of green.  Then with that dark blue/black already in your brush, you layer in a little yellow to create that tell tale green.  Finally you need to throw in another hit of yellow or white, based on where the light is coming from.

In this case ... the grass is greener on the other (Bob's side) of the fence, or canvas as the case may be. He also knew the importance of scratching in the details ... even when you really don't see them when you look at the painting as a whole. 

When I was in my high school art class, I did a painting of a sunset.  The art teacher (who I've never respected and quite frankly, think he's still an idiot) told me I need more color on the hill that was in shadow.  Well ... I thought wtf, it's dark, it's shadow, it's black how do I add more color?  And he never taught me why that was important, and how it brings out the details.

But because of Bob, I get it now.

Not perfect, but darn good

New Simpsons (I missed half because of Sunday Football Night in America)

The glory of KO and DP reunited on Sunday-F'N-America

Anticipation of a NEW FAMILY GUY!!!

One happy Stacey on her favorite day of the week.

On and on

I'm feeling all out of sorts.  So I need to go to bed.  I'll do that soon, but I also need to write here first.

I need to fall into a pattern, rhythm, habit ... something.

That's what I'm missing.  Because even though I come farther every day, with boxes put away, internet up and running (Yes!) and painting started ... I'm still not settled.

Every once in awhile I step outside of myself and wonder when I'm going to wake up.  It's still not real. 

And I think the main part of that is I don't have that comfort of familiarity around me.  Yeah sure I come home, eat, dishes, either work on the house, work or lazy around.  That's nothing like the tradition of Football Sunday or any other of the smaller traditions (habits) we tend to fall into.

1, 2 … Freddy’s coming for you

I walked forward. One hand held my coffee cup filled with steaming tea, so only one hand was extended. Reaching. Feeling.


Nothing.

Shapes begin to emerge. Outlines. This isn’t so bad. Hope surges through me. There is strength for the future if I can find my way in this darkness.

Contact.

A doorway? Is my destination just before me?

Movement.

I concentrate, trying to heighten those other senses. My arm and shoulder brush against something that brushes back.

Oh god.

My stomach turns.

Like the Cowardly Lion in Elphaba’s magic globe: I do believe in spooks. I do believe in spooks. I do. I do. I do.

My heart rate doubles then stops.

In defeat I reach, praying to connect with a light switch, defeated for not yet knowing those intricacies, nooks and crannies.

Light bounces off my surroundings.

My bumps in the night were doors and I was only steps away from the security of my bed.

Victory was close, but maybe another night.

Relativity

Not limited to Einstein, space and time.

Because how can friends grow apart when it was foundation that brought them together in the first place?

How can you think I have money when I carefully live within my means?

You think frugal—and I think cheap.

That true maverick says change and means more profits for that upper one percent. While the candidate working for a better America says change and means a better life for people who know the meaning of working for a dime.

Don’t let the door hit you on the way out

Everyone mourns the loss of summer. But it seems as though the intensity of the loss grows greater each year. And that need to relish in the pain isn’t working for me.


I love the long days and warmth of the sun against my skin. The flowers are breath taking, rain showers are magical and clear driving conditions are fantastic. I’d love to keep all these things longer too.

But we can’t.
I guess the general longing … that evolves into clinging to a feeling or situation that never really existed … is driving me crazy.

My soul is screaming for the masses to get over it. Close your eyes and leap. Don’t search for greener grass when you could be appreciating what you have.

But stop lamenting over memories, summer days or three-time MVP’s. The times that are upon us could refresh and revitalize you, if you give it a chance.

The Only Choice

I work in a company that helps people who have fallen on hard times or simply are in the poverty to below-poverty bracket. Needless to say, every week I am reminded of this lowest percentile. It gives me mixed emotions. I feel so lucky for what I have, even though at times it doesn’t feel like a lot. But I live comfortably, I have a fantastic support system, I’m relatively healthy and I see opportunity to improve.

On the other gamut of emotions I feel very helpless because while we’re able to change lives, some people’s problems compound so much that while multiple programs work with them, it’ll be a long time to pull themselves out of these tough times, if ever.

But the thing is, it’s getting harder for these programs to serve thousands (millions nationwide) of hard working Americans. “The common man” is faltering under the Bush Administration and they’re one wave away from drowning. And like Katrina—there’s no response.

These are people you know: your friends, family, grandparents and neighbors. They’re hurting, and it will only get worse if America elects McCain.

Because Republicans promise “no new taxes” every year, but yet they keep coming regardless of which party holds office. There’s a reason taxes are compared to death, but they aren’t the proverbial nail in our collective coffins.

No, what really is causing devastations across the country trickles down to the common man, and it’s not a windfall. It’s tax breaks and legislation for mega corporations that cut corner and make their dollars off our backs. The Republication Way is that these huge financial gains ultimately strengthen the economy (and of course you’ve seen how that works).

The cutbacks are happening to essential services: public works, streets, schools and human services. Because none of these institutions are creating a profit, they just are caring for the general public. Sure you got a tidy little stimulus check and paid the rent or will heat or your home one more month. But the national budgets will reflect this new debt with other cuts—and those cuts aren’t going to hurt that one percent.

Now, you might think the ideologies of a quick fix to build a stronger economy sounds pretty good. After all you have a good job, home and a few toys to make life worth living. That gamble will hurt when you get sick and have mounting debt because health insurance can’t sustain the cuts made to it and you’re paying for more and more out of pocket. Or by some stroke of bad luck you lose your job or can’t work.

Unemployment dries up awfully fast. Then the tough choice of going to the cabin to fish or taking a camping trip to hike seems a little petty. Now you’re choosing between buying food and paying the rising cost of gas and fuel (because, by the way, off shore drilling won’t lower costs for another eight years, if they are able to pull enough out to make a dent).

So weigh your options this November. If that quick fix check that can be gone in a day and then only a memory when real help and services are needed, vote McCain.

But if you want to create a country that will benefit everyone and sustain you and your children into the future … then Barack Obama is the only choice.

Clumsy, the girl’s so clumsy

I apologize for my absence of late. I packed up my entire life, save a few knick knacks, and took a gigantic leap—though not the leap the size of here to the east coast.
I bought a house—just writing it makes me throw up a little in my mouth. It’s really not that bad, it’s just the thought of it. But some times those concepts are powerful.

I have to find a balance of not making plans (to avoid disappointment) and not losing sight of goals.

I toppled that challenge several times over. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised though. I’ve always know that I’m somewhat clumsy.

The Neverending Story

Will it ever end? No I’m not talking about the movie series with the funny looking flying creature thing and Jonathan Brandis escaping his teenaged angst into a fantasy world. Two words: typed with one hand on home row: Brett Favre.


I know. Ohmigod, kill me, kill me now. *Cue Music: Will he stay or will he go?*

Can we all just get along and play football? I knew this transition was going to be tenuous. And in my gut I didn’t think he was going to retire this year. But I don’t think I ever saw this mess coming.

And right now, as long as he doesn’t play for a team in the division, I really don’t care what he does. In five years time, we all will look back on this and probably shake our heads—if we even think of this whole mess at all. Who would have thought he’d pull a Michael Jordan? At least Jordan didn’t cause this much controversy (as far as I know).

Letters to Live By ~ The Inevitable

Dear Friend,

You’ll never believe the amazing advice I received today. It was around 3 p.m. and I was hitting a huge lull at work—you know, the kind brought on by lunch burning off and frustration mounting from an hour’s work disappearing.

I took a moment and a deep breath and the universe gave me a pick me up. The sage piece of wisdom was “Age is nothing but a number.” And it came from the best counsel: the wrapper of a Dove Dark Chocolate

I’ve been having issues with my quarter century. Never before has my years tallied on Earth been a focus or care. But dawning of the 25th year hit me like a bag of bricks.

Life has been psyching me out. Bills. Insurance. Retirement Plans. Home Ownership. Ack.

The problem with the real world is not the work or job. It’s all of these pressures mounting up. And the fear that one wrong move will sink the ship.

Because what Brett Favre has taught us is some decisions should be final and we don’t (normally) get the luxury of take backs.

Don’t get me wrong, my lovely Friend, the real world and all its pleasures of taxes, work pressures and unretirements aren’t fun.

It’s just like everything else though. Take one thing at a time and if you believe and are positive, the universe will provide for you (if nothing else, it gives you wisdom through chocolate to help you get through the moment).

The greatest challenge, my Friend, is to remember to have Patience!

Letters to Live By ~ Passion

Oh dear Friend,

I miss your voice, your laugh. I remember all the good times we shared. Our silly inside jokes that mean nothing to everyone else.

I’ve felt deep passions since we last spoke—good and bad. I’ve been hurt severely, but also loved intensely. It’s funny, for me these both sides of this spectrum stir deep down in the same place—the pit of my stomach. That painful hurt makes my stomach drop or tie in knots and love makes it well up with butterflies. Oh, what an experience!

And I’m not sure if you can really recover from either—love or hurt. Because I can revisit it years later and feel fine, but something triggers it again and all those powerful feelings bubble up.

Johnny Rzeznik of the Goo Goo Dolls says that “scars are souvenirs we’ll never lose, the past is never far.” I agree, but I’ll add wrinkles are earned, a past smile we should never forget.

See, the GGD and Johnny still hold in a place in my heart. As does Travis Jervey, purple, Van Gogh, duckies and llamas. Some things never change. And thank you my friend for accepting my obsessions (there I said it!) and not seeing them as faults. I love that twinkle in your eye when you see me embracing my “favorite things”—I know in your own way you relate to your favorite things as well.

Until next time my dear Friend ... do you remember when we went to that place, and I said this while you did that .... and then .... :-) Wasn't it great?

Sleep well, I look forward to our next chat. ~ Sdo

Letters to Live By ~ Faith

Dear Old Friend,

It’s been quite awhile since we last spoke, and I apologize sincerely for the time and space between us. I never mean for so many days to stretch on from the last time we talked. But intentions never make these fingers dial the phone or type an email.

Lots of things have changed dear Friend, but you’d be surprised of how much has stayed the same. I’ll recap the most significant topics for you, as they come to me, and ask quickly as I can so I won’t keep you too long.

I’ll start with what I’ve learned about faith and religion. When I was in eighth grade, before my confirmation, one of the Sunday school teachers sat the girls of my class down and talked to us about faith. Well, actually it was more about religion and our devotion to God.

She looked at each of us, and asked us to promise we would continue going to church, no matter where our path would lead us. I remember in that moment, knowing I’d be making a promise I wouldn’t keep. Looking back, I see how very inappropriate that session was. God isn’t about peer pressure. And I went with the group, because I knew there would be negative consequences if I didn’t.

What she should have asked us to do was never lose faith. In the darkest moments, the loneliest times, we should look deep down inside ourselves and be comforted in that we are but a small part in this great universe. And our part, whether if it’s predestined or rewritten with every flutter of a butterfly’s wings, has a place.

If we just believe that everything happens for a reason and we are never truly alone—even (especially!) when nothing can be seen or felt—everything works its way out. Everything will be okay. The universe takes care of you as long as you believe in yourself.

And my Friend, I don’t often go to church, and probably never will. But don’t fear for my soul. I feel God all around me, and celebrate the wonders with every flower, blade of grass, rain drop and other miracles all around us. I don’t need to follow the flock, repeat words like drone or forcibly give money to an Earthly institution.

I don’t think this so much is a change—but the strength to formulate, believe and hold on to what was always in me. Talk about Joy in every day moments!

What has changed is my loss of faith. I don’t trust as easily as I used to. I’ve lost faith in people.

I find myself pulling back, showing only a small percent of what I really am. Much of the world around me only sees what I let them see—a shell of what I really am. I don’t want most people to know the real me.

The voice in the back of my head is constantly reminding me that any information I divulge can and will be used against me.

I’ve lost faith that people will mostly do the right thing, the sane thing, the fair thing.

So I’ve come to numb myself, take that shot of Novocain against life.

Because I’ve learned is life isn’t fair. Everything happens for a reason, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t royally suck sometimes.

Don't worry though Friend.  It's not all a sad story.  But we only appreciate blessing more after a little hardship.

Be well until we connect again. ~ Sdo

This is the life

This week I took vacation. It’s been my first summer vacation since 2004, longer if you don’t count the summers I worked throughout college.

It’s been such a fabulous time. My plans have been flexible and I’ve loved everything the week has brought me.

Saturday, I went to Jenny’s pond party. It was a super windy afternoon. But even though I didn’t go swimming and I got a sunburn, I had a wonderful time with Jenny and Kriston.
Sunday was such a nice day to weed and work in the garden. Plus I got to watch Robots. But I got a little too much sun and didn’t drink enough water on Saturday so I was sleeping by 9 p.m.

Monday night we had a campfire and stayed outside until midnight. It would have been longer, but I got cold even in pants and sweatshirt.

Mom was having way too much fun playing in the fire. She sent sparks flying all night—I have the burn marks and three holes in my pants to proved it. We missed a Big Bang Theory marathon (two whole hours!) but it was still worth it.

When we got in MASH was on, so we watched that. I tried to stay awake to watch South Park, but probably only got five minutes in and I fell asleep.

I was quite tired after this late night session. I didn’t perk up until around 4 p.m. Tuesday. I still enjoyed our visit with my aunts Joannie & Diane. Diane lives in North Dakota so it was especially nice to see her.

Wednesday I braved the spiders and looked at all the stuff I have in storage so I could make my shopping list.

Tim also came over Wednesday and Thursday, which was awesome. We lamented about how old we’re both getting and how much easier it was before the real world was looming so close (or smack dab in it, for me). That’s a whole other post entirely.

He and mom tag teamed me into buying a dinette set for $35—complete with ugly chairs. Oh well, he also helped us load and unload. Later in the afternoon after Timmy went back home Mom and I went shopping. Got lots of good deals—a beautiful chocolate brown living room chair for $80. I spent around $250 in total, but saved maybe more than $500.

Friday was a lovely lazy day. I sat outside reading and writing. I had a chance to watch a couple of old favorite shows—including bits and pieces of every soap I watched as a child/teen.

All in all my vacation was the best I could hope for. Great friends, family and weather. It’ll be an adjustment to go back to a normal sleeping pattern—especially going to bed before 11 and getting up before 8!!

Please stay retired Brett

I still haven't written my Brett Favre Reflections.  And I'm not sure if I will, because I don't know if I can produce anything that hasn't been said or done before.

Plus, how do you express what he meant to the game, an era of quarterbacks and my complete exposure to the NFL?  He defined greatness, humble persona and sportsmanship--on and off the field.

And that's rare.

With that said; however, he needs to stay retired.

He also needs to keep his itches to himself--they make creams for that you know.

Because I can't take it.  Hearing "Brett Favre wants to come back and play" makes me sick to my stomach.

He had his chance to stay ... before he announced his retirement.  And after March 4, 2008, there's no going back.  If he thought that he might be mentally ready by, oh say, JULY he should have not announced he was going to retire.  Because now the ship has sailed--and he was the one who untied it from the dock and pushed off.  It's now Aaron Rodger's team. 

Yeah, it would be great to have Brett back for one more year, five more years, forever. Because it's Brett and he always gives the team the chance to win.  That's the nostalgia talking.  I don't know it any other way.

I'm excited to see what Aaron is made of.  I want to move forward, because the team won't win looking back.

Favre said it himself, he only knows one way to play: by giving 100 percent.  Nothing less.  At this point, he wouldn't be able to give 100 percent.  He could still play; no doubt, but there would be more mistakes, more last minute salvations, more tarnish on the legend.  I'd rather have the last pass intercepted, eliminating the Packers from the Super Bowl than have it happen in a losing season or losing the Super Bowl.  It's fitting for Favre, what other way would his epic end?

I've said it before, in this win-now league Favre wouldn't (or shouldn't) go to another team.  If he was mentally exhausted in a system he's played in for 16 years (given some changes that naturally occur in an evolving offense), he'd have to put in extra work to learn the new offense of the new team.  Yes, he could show up and play on Sundays, but I think it would be mediocre at best.  We saw how average he was with young receivers, new receivers every week and poor receivers. Not to mention there's no telling the quality of the offensive line.

Favre said it well when he retired, his success was never solely because of him.  It takes every part of the puzzle fitting to create a good to great offense and quarterback.  Great quarterbacks make something out of nothing.  But it must be pretty frustrating to know that you're great and the best you can get out of the people around you is average.  Not the way a legend goes out of the game.

Here's to Brett, and his 16 years with the Green Bay Packers.  Thanks for the memories and how you played the game.  Here's hoping you retire with the honor you played.

And here's to Aaron Rodgers and the next era of the Green Bay Packers.  I don't know where you'll take us, but I'm excited for the journey.

Plant a Tree, Please a Pirate (Arrrrrr)

Gooooooooooood morning boys and girls, but then again I was told it isn't morning.  Oh well, I guess I get confused by those kind of things.

There is a great newer holiday in the Kingdom of Loathing, and in my green spirit I'm so pleased I can do my part to make the Kingdom a better place (other than slaughtering monsters and rescuing the King from a prism prison).  It's Arrrbor Day where a friendly pirate encourages Adventurers to give back to their Kingdom by planting trees in the Arrrrrboretum.

Nevermind that pirates use trees for wood to make their boats.  And between you and me, they cut down every last tree I planted last Arrrbor Day and all I got in return were pine needles.  Now that doesn't sound like advancing the common good or a way to create opportunities of a better life for everyone ... (stinking lying pirates)

Bitterness aside, check out all the fabulous and funny adventures you can have on Arrrbor Day: Check out the Arrrbor Day Adventures  (courtesy of KoL Wiki)

My Favorites are:
The Fellowship of the Fudge (LotR Reference)
The Submissive Tree (Giving Tree Reference)
A Hare Raising Propsal (Little Bunny FooFoo Reference) 
Sheer Comedic Gold (LotR Reference)
A Foxy Proposal (Firefox spoof)

Quite amusing, I hope you enjoy them as much as I did.  Those writers and developers are brilliant.

Don't look now, but I think summer's here

I hit some tennis balls yesterday. Man, did that feel awesome. I have to try to that every day. I even got about 15-30 minutes of volley in with a friend.

Time is so … I don’t know what the more accurate term: relative or non-existent. I have no concept of time when I’m outside in the summer.

I hope I can say this with no ill effects, but summer is here. Tending to the herbs. Tennis. Writing (and reading) in the gazebo. Tan lines where my rings are.

New content rolled out in the Kingdom: Hobopolis.

I haven’t read any of the threads, but there's been a lot of chatter about it on Wiki and in the forum. I haven’t’ ventured there yet, because (and here’s the kicker) it costs 10 million meat.

While I’m quite a market whore, I’m not a market player or meat farmer by any means. I unloaded quite a bit of my duplicate inventory and extra food stuffs in the last two softcore runs, but it’s taken me three years to raise around six million meat (and I was happy at that amount for my adventure style and purposes). Really most of the profit has come post-NS13. I think I’ve been averaging between 200,000 and 300,000 a run.

I had big plans for this meat: outfit items for tattoos, the 99 red balloon trophy, etc.

Other than Hobopolis there are a lot of newer goals I am playing towards. I really need to take a look at what I want in order to do more focused adventuring. There’s a lot of long-term trophies I’m shooting for: perming the six Spookyraven skills, perming the zero level skills, the six level 30 trophies, battling 240 black puddings, eating 420 herb brownies, getting the cursed pirate tattoo, having a couple pirate skeletons in my closet … and on, and on.

And for the life of me, I can’t figure out how the elemental (hotform, coldform, etc) trophies work.

All and all it’s been a great weekend. Yummy coffee. Fun tennis. Good episode of Doctor Who (and watching RENT!). The only down side is it ends.

Memory Lane's Soundtrack

I flipped on the television in passing on Friday evening. It’s a terrible habit. Either I discover I’ve just missed something awesome or a program catches my eye and I’m delayed from my original destination.

Anyways, passing by, I flipped on the television and there was Aaron Rodgers. If you haven’t heard, he’s the Packers’ quarterback. That makes you pause a moment, doesn’t it? There he was in the red jersey, taking snaps, falling back and throwing perfect passes to Donald Driver.

He said THE FIRST mini-camp was going well. He was getting used to the habits and instincts of the O-Line. They were learning his snap count and cadence and now it’s just that journey to build chemistry.

Aaron Rodgers, quarterback of the Green Bay Packers.

Yeah.

I really wish he would cut his hair though. It didn’t work on TJ, and baby, it’s not quite hot on you either.

This morning I went into my music library to find some “new” songs to add to my mp3 player. There were only three or four on my computer that caught my ear, so I pulled out CDs I’ve burned from 2001-2004.

Wow was that a trip down memory lane. I haven’t listened to these CDs in at least three years and most of their songs aren’t on my compute—so they haven’t been in my rotation. There were songs on those CDs that I didn’t even remember having. It was quite a rush. As I popped each CD in after the other, that spectrum of emotions painted all those memories and feelings back on that musical canvas in front of me. As I wrote down which songs to transfer to my mp3 player I had troubles with song titles, and one or two I have no clue who the artist might be.

I made my way through the songs, and the effects of time shown in my memory—or lack thereof. I used to know these songs by the first three notes or chords. Now I had to push it to the middle of the song to see if the chorus would jog my memory. I also used to know the order they were in and what songs were on each CD all by knowing the first song. Half the CDs weren’t even labeled and none of them have a written play list.

So here I was, listening to each CD. I rediscovered quite a few old loves that just made me giddy as they played. I’m sure I was quite a sight to see: sitting at my computer, pen in hand, face reflecting deep concentration and then a squeal or laugh as I leaned back and clapped my hands joyful from the notes pouring from my speakers.

It wasn’t a completely joyous reunion. Some of the songs that came on made me cringe and I don’t even remember why I would have liked them. Others have bad connotations. Lost love, faded friendships and other painful times.

And there are the array of songs that are okay but were good only when I was going through a phase. Yes, there were a few country songs in that group *gasp!*

For some reason I haven’t quite figured out yet, music has always been a very emotional connection in my life, deeply rooted.

What I learned today (for those in Dan Nation... Ha, lame joke, but I love it!) is that as much as things change they also stay the same. And it was pretty satisfying rediscovering these old lyrical friends.

Benson's Boat has Sailed

RB-Cedric Benson’s destructive behavior is overshadowing team goals. It’s the second drunken charge in a month. Bears release him—maybe the Bengals can sign him.

Hostage Situation

The rain woke me up today, which I don't mind. It has such a diverse portfolio of sounds. There's the pitter-patter on the window, tapping on the roof, rushing through the storm pipe right outside my window ...

My wake up call came at 6 a.m., and since it's Sunday, I rolled over and put the eye pillow on my face to catch more zzz's. Doing so, I started dreaming, a strange dream.

I was at some function, I'm not quite sure what. It was night time or dusk, it was in a fairly large building. There were two main rooms and about six smaller rooms where the activities were being held. The building was a basic rectangle with two stories. On the first floor was three small rooms, two on one side of the hall, one on the other with the restrooms on either side of that rooom. The larger area was at the back of the bulding. Up the stairs and there was a similiar layout only the large room was on the opposite end.

There was music and the lights were set for that typical event, mood lighting. Everyone was having a good time. And for some reason, I decided to go upstairs to see what was going on in the room up there.

I was just about to go up the stairs when a man came down. He was around 6'7" with a strong looking physique. He had shaggy dark hair that was somewhat oily. His complexion was very pale and eyes were sad.

He blocked my way as I tried to ascend the stairs. I tried to side-step him with a quick glance and a polite nod. Instead he took my hand in a handshake and said hello. I returned the gesture and tried again to climb the stairs. Instead he kept his grip and led me back to the hallway. There was some chairs next to the coat rack, and in one smooth motion we sat, his grip tightening slightly around my hand.

He asked about what was going on, about how many people were here. Then he asked if I read some book. I had and he was surprised when I said so. Still holding my hand, he asked what I thought of the book. We had an odd little literary conversation and I thought I had extended enough pleasantries. I stood and said I really should be going because I had to go to the restroom. He stood with me and I noticed a gun outline in his pocket. I tried to move in the direction in of the bathroom. I forced another polite, nonchalant smile, hoping to keep the panic off of my face.

He released my hand and I continued making my way to the bathroom, but he caught my arm from behind and pulled me around to face him. This time he had the gun drawn. My knees gave under me, but he held tightly and pulled me up to stand.

With the gun pressed into my side, he pushed me forward still with the vise-like grip on my arm.

I don't remember too much from this point. He held us hostage in this room, but the whole building was on lock down, I'm not sure if he was working with multiple people or how he was able to hold us all captive alone. The phone lines were cut and he had a device that scrambled cell signals, so no one's cell phone worked.

Somehow the police were notified because they caught the guy as he was trying to put everyone in bus and take us someplace else. It was a scramble to find everyone who was in the building.

So anyway, that was my strange dream. I woke up at about 9:15, which was a shock. While I don't start my Sunday's too early, I'm usually up and around by 8 at the latest. Guess the dream threw me off.

And with a wave of my magic wand ... I bring you this post

First, I have to confess to you.


I'm cheating.


I'm writing this Saturday and scheduling it to post on Sunday, so I don't miss that traditional post. There, I just let all the mystic and wonder out of my sails. The white rabbit in my hat has been exposed and I really didn't make the Statue of Liberty disappear. Damn.


I'm doing it this way because I'll have to be a busy bee this morning *wink, wink* to make a big birthday brunch for my parents. And to write, post, adventure and cook would mean I'd have to wake up by at least 5:30. And dagnabit, Sunday is my day! I ain't getting up at no 5:30 AM! So there.


The sun just went under. It's windy and cold. Now it's back--still windy and a little chilly. I don't know if I can take it much longer. Okay now I'm inside and there's this bit of dandelion fluff following me around.


A couple of weeks ago I found mojito mix in the store. This was thrilling because it's quite labor intensive to make mojitos. Totally worth it because they're oh-so-yummy. You have to mull the mint and sugar, make sure all the sugar gets dissolved (the part I never completely succeeded at) and juice probably three or four limes to make a good sized drink. Limes aren't too cheap, so I rarely was able to enjoy a mojito.


I had my first mojito at Ruby Foos in NYC. It was a Ginger Mojito and was absolutely fantastic it was also huge, so thankfully we ate a lot so I was able to walk through the City that Never Sleeps with a good buzz instead of stumble through it.


The mix I bought was pretty reasonable and it makes an awesome mojito (and I love that word!). I also got pear-ginger, which is good but doesn't hold a candle to Ruby Foos. And I have a passion fruit mix I'm enjoying right now ..... err, last night.


If you have a chance, give mojitos a try. And try tequila and coke if you're a tequila fan. Also a quality beverage.


So what do you think about the federal case the national media made about the Packers leaving Favre's locker (untouched) in the locker room?


Were they planning on leaving it there forever? I don't know. I would have put it in the Packer Hall of Fame, then put the bench/stool that he sat on out in the Hall of Fame too. ("Mom, Mom! I just sat on the very bench Brett Favre used to sit on!!!!!") I read that they sent the locker to Favre. I wonder what he's going to do with it ... I'm envisioning a garden tool storage area.


I also read that they didn't want to give anyone the old locker, because who wants the pressure (and maybe bad juju?) of having the Legend's former space.


It's only May for crying out loud. I can understand why the Packers would have left it there untouched in the meantime when they were figuring out what the hell they should possibly do with it. It's a lose-lose for them really. Whatever they chose someone would have read into it.

And they did.


The big talk was that how is Aaron Rodger's supposed to come into the Packers and be the leader of the team when the Legend's locker is there, starring him the face everyday. That constant reminder. YOU'RE NOT HIM.


On some radio show I heard that someone asked Rodgers about THE LOCKER and he started getting defensive.


I really hope AR got defensive because it was nothing and that's not what the media should be focusing on. Because if he was bothered by a locker he is going to have a hard time stepping out of Favre's shadow.

So in review: I'm a cheater. Mojitos are yummy.

And everyone made way too big of a deal over the Brett Favre locker.

Need it like a High

Something has happened that I didn't think was possible.

Something that I never saw coming.

It's a feeling so energizing I am more aware of everything around me. It's all those cliches come true: colors are more vibrant, sounds ring crystal clear and truly resonate all through me. My heart beats a little faster, eyes are open a little wider and my soul is open. Plus, I'm letting out squeals of delight nearly every five minutes.

It's ...

So You Think You Can Dance? !!!!

I've been watching the show since the very beginning and it's never failed to leave me completely thrilled.

I'm not sure why it pulls me in. I have absolutely zero dance ability and no aspirations to be a dancer. But this show gives me the rush only Opening Sunday and Super Bowl Sunday can parallel.

We're two weeks in and there's at least one more episode of auditions. And rather than laughing at the horrible people, I'm more horrified for them and the others I'm willing to do well.

I still remember all my past season favorites: Nick, Travis, Donyelle, Hok, Ivan, Allison Dominic, Neil, Sabra. And I absolutely love when they use some of these past contestants as choreographers and assistants.

I've wrote before that SYTYCD is a great pulse on hot music. I heard Apologize from One Republic here first--months before it was released on the radio.

On Thursday I had two music moments. There was this really toned guy doing push ups like a maniac. He started his pre-interview piece somewhat normally: dance is his passion, it's where he feels the most at peace, etc. Then he said, "When I dance, it's divinity."

Okay.

He walks on stage, waiting for his music to begin.

The first chords sound.

And my heart jumps and then drops into my stomach.

Goo Goo Dolls, Acoustic #3

He's just standing there.

I turn up the volume.

He's still standing there.

"Well do something!" I yell at the television.

He begins.

I hold my breath. Make divinity and don't wreck my song.

*Squeal* Johnny's beautiful voice fills the auditorium.

Nigel cuts the music.

*SIGHS*

Now, I don't remember if Jeremiah made it straight through to Vegas or if he had to learn Travis Wall's *Squeal* choreography. But I do know he eventually made it to Vegas because I remember thinking that I hope he was selected to the Top 20 so he could dance his solos to more Goo Goo Dolls songs.

(and not be so incredibly odd, but I suppose that was just me calling the kettle black)

My other piece of music news isn't so dramatic. I think they played a AvA song (Angels v Airwaves, Tom DeLonge's new band post-Blink182), which makes me hope they play the better two-thirds of that former trio: +44.

And now, I have 1 1/2 pages left in this notebook. Whoohoo.

Sooner or later it's over

Yesterday I learned that irises smell soapy. It's a very interesting smell. I also learned I hate weeding that iris bed.

If you just realize what I just realized

Another Sunday is here, and unfortunately, almost over. It'll be nice to get some extra time with the coming holiday weekend. Can you believe it's the end of May already? It's the end of May and quite cold might I add. I wish the lovely city of San Francisco would lend us some warmth. They've got record highs and here it's a high probability of frost overnight.

I've been doing my part to help the economy this week (that's code for spending more money then I typically care to spend on a weekly basis). I got my eyes checked and ordered a year's supply of contacts and I bought six pairs of shoes. Now, before you make any judgements, with rebates and a free pair of sunglasses I saved $120 on my contacts and with coupons, sales and free shipping I saved $56 on the shoes.

It's still enough to make my heart palpatate a little .... but with deals like that ... Yeah.

So, what is there for you and I to chat about? Dexter is done, there's still no football for a couple of months, So You Think You Can Dance? doesn't start until next week.

Okay, not too much to talk about. I'm starting to plan to get my masters. I'm narrowing down the different subjects, first goal is to choose, then which school ...

Ahhh life. No manual. All heart.

Happy Sunday to all and to all a good afternoon.

Card carrying (if there was a card to carry) member of Dan Nation

I started my way home yesterday. Hooray for the weekend is finally here.

My radio was tuned to sports talk radio---and my favorite broadcaster Dan Patrick.

I literally heard one minute of the show (the close) and Dan and his gang of rag-tag producers had me laughing so hard I was in tears.

Man am I glad DP is back on the radio.

I am older than the Quarterbacks for the Packers (all of them!)

Morning came too early today. In fact I might just crawl back into bed sometime today for a nap. Either that or the coffee needs to kick in--or get pumped into me with an IV drip.

The Sunday Morning Show is previewing the summer movies. I'm looking forward to Indiana Jones and the Crystal Skull, The Dark Knight and quite a few others. This looks like a good summer for movies. Now I would have watched The Dark Knight regardless, but I have a high level of anticipation since it was Heath Ledger's last complete movie.

He goes so twisted and dark ... I think I might have a hard time rooting against him. I have always had that odd dark fascination for the ... well, the dark and insanely odd (hence my interest in Marilyn Manson -- I certainly would be interested in the psychology that is behind that).

Okay, back from a shower. I am now slightly more awake, if not slightly less tired. And still slightly slippy from lotion.

Onward and forth! (or some such things)

So there was a birthday. And there is some internal struggle. And a lot of external resentment because there's no life manual.

There's also a banana nut muffin, but that has nothing to do with any of it. It's just breakfast.

Wasn't it Elaine and Kramer on Seinfeld who created a muffin tops business?

Sure, it seems like a great concept (and then they had the problem of what do you do with the bottoms) but I like the whole muffin. I do enjoy pulling the top off and eating it separately. But there's different good things about both. The top is caramelized and slightly more crispy. The bottom, oh the bottom is cakey and pure delicious muffin essence all the way through.

So I guess what I'm trying to say here to you is that muffin tops only is a flawed concept.

I think they should have removed the tops, but sold the bottoms also (you'd get a deal if you bought both a top and bottom). They coulda called it: Top of the Muffin to You (and Bottoms too!)

Around a month ago I received a newsletter from some public interest group I found. It's called Free-range Thinking, it raises a point of view and generates discussion from authors and gives "food for thought" opportunities.

As an aside: It has a brown cow in the masthead. I think that cow knows that I drink soy milk and i think in her own silent way (silent because she is only a picture and I'm not that crazy that pictures of cows talk to me) she's thanking me for it.

Anyway, this month's topic is Why Do You Do What You Do? I'm not going to recap the history, etc. (because that's boring and unoriginal and a pet peeve) so if you want that insight google it (again, GoodSearch for our philanthropic friends).

Moral of the story is that many of us don't actually reflect on why we do what we do. And when that contemplation comes ... it's a stirring moment, or series of moments, and creates a genuine reflection.

Now, my answer, at least until I come up with something better, is: to contribute to something greater than myself.

That's ultimately why I write. Yeah, I'm an incredibly vain person who wants to send her words out into the world for others to read, but I'm doing it give something better or more meaningful then just me.

Numbers don't fulfill that need in me, neither does working in medicine. But it's why I have friendships, connect with family, find meaning in music and movies, try to live greener and even sit in the backyard listening to the wind, water and birds.

That's all for today.

This blog wins the award for most random subjects and tangent filled.

Statues crumble for me

I think last week's blue post was primarily weather-driven. Later that day I went outside and did a little work and walked around on the soggy lawn. I felt better in the cool breeze and warm sunlight.

Better days ahead ... this weekend is/was the NFL Draft. We're that much closer to the start of a new season. And a new season means ... anticipation. The first year without Brett Favre. Now, I'm not ready to do my Brett Favre reflections quite yet. The more I contemplate it, the less I'm sure when I'll be ready.

But what I am ready for is to see what Aaron Rodgers can do. I'm excited to see it. I want to move forward. Not that I have any animosity towards Favre, but the off season chatter makes me feel so stagnant. It's not as easy as putting away the helmet and walking off the field into the sunset. It's a life full of speculation and I'm getting sick of it.

Do I wish they would have signed Randy Moss or a multitude of other play makers? Do I wish Brett would have come back for one more year? Yes. In the same vein, am I ready for Brett to retire? ... yes.

Don't get me wrong, if he could give the Packers 10 more years of his "best level" of performance, I'd take it. Without a second thought.

But it had to happen sooner or later. In a fitting sort of way, it ended on an interception, in the NFC Championship. (and it hurts to even type it)

I guess my point is that it happened. And we all better start accepting it and moving on. Stop reading between the lines "some thing's bound to happen." Stop wishing he'll come back. Don't start booing Rodgers after the second interception and don't start chanting "We want Favre."

Because FYI--the magnificent Brett Favre leads the league in all-time interceptions. Remember we lived by Favre, we died by Favre. And when we died, it was often by a massacre.

I've learned to never say never, but I don't think he's coming back. And I'm even more positive that he wouldn't go to another team. I've said it before, it's a win now league. And to do that Favre would have to invest a lot of time and effort to learn new coaching schemes, a new playbook and new personnel. Mentally tired and 50+ learning hours a week don't skip down any beaches hand-in-hand.

So just stop it already.

Okay, okay, rant aside (I guess I needed to get that out). I think his little stint on Letterman was an audition to see if he had a future in broadcast/commentary. Sports jacket over the jeans and nice shirt. In-depth break down of his last game and the Super Bowl Champions.

And now back to the draft. I'm very happy they picked up a quarterback. They need some depth in that position. Last year at one time, didn't the Packers place one of the wide-outs in the QB slot on the depth chart? I was hoping for John David Booty---but I guess the Packers drafted best player at the time ... and I only know JDB b/c he got a fair amount of air time on ESPN Radio.

I don't know much about the other players they selected, but I'm sure I'll learn more this week. A fan calling in to ESPN Radio just said they should have picked up someone in the secondary and an offensive line tackle. Then they said something about the aging team and the QB they drafted was too short at 6'2".

The Packers do need some more help and depth in the secondary. But this is a better acquisition by free agent or trade. I think the secondary is one of the hardest areas for a young player to succeed. Traditionally, the Packers have done much better to bring in veteran.

Offensive tackle: yes there is some age with Clifton and Tauscher, but in that point of the draft most of the OT's (or maybe the OT's that they wanted) were taken. This should be another position they could get on the free agent market. Plus the current duo have been very reliable and don't traditionally miss a lot of games due to injury.

Aging team---hello, where have you been the past two years? The Packers were the youngest team in the league (and that was with Favre skewing their average).

6'2" too short for a QB (somewhere Doug Flutie spit out his Flutie Flakes): I think the roster lists Favre as 6'2". No more to say here.

It's amazing to see how quickly the screen fills when I'm blogging about football.

I've been doing softcore runs in KoL lately. Really going after trophies/tattoos (and being a mall whore, but it's so exillarating to see the meat roll in). I have 23 trophies, 57 tattoos and 4,531,546 meat.

I think I've gotten all the easy trophies. And I'm working on some that will take forever... 420 herb brownies, 80 around the worlds and the last run I've gotten my first tomato daquiri. Yes, around 23 acesnions, who knows how many exploded chef-in-a-boxes and 1 tomato daquiri. I battled each dungeon of doom monster 120 times and made a pretty good chunk of change from all the bang potions I put in my store.

I'm almost out of Ronin, but I wish they would make it easier to do mass-pulls from Hagnks. It's so tedious to go item by item. After Ronin, I typically just take it all out. This of course makes my inventory huge and makes it a longer process to put things in my store. They revamped the combat format with the new bar. So why can Jick & Co. put a little effort into Hagnks? Afterall, the poor guy just got a new facility, he could use a little help inside too.

I foresee the dark ahead, if I stay

This blogger window sits in front of me ... empty and intimidating. Nothing exciting to write about.

Tempted by the sunshine outside. I hope it stays so I can get out and enjoy the fresh air.

I have a couple of things I brought home from work, but I don't know if I'll do any of it. The past month I've been bringing small projects home to do because there's just not enough time in the week to get to it all. I think I'm getting a little burned out from it. It still needs to get done though, so I'm not sure what my solution is.

Last night on Doctor Who was the last episode with Christopher Eccleson as The Ninth Doctor. Oh, it was such a good show! The new doctor looks funny ... but I'll miss Eccleson.

I'm kind of in a music rut too.

Oh happy days, is this spring fever or Sunday morning blues?

Over and out ... and hopefully, on to better things.

A bag of bricks made of chocolate

I had a chocolate craving, it hit me all of a sudden, like a bag of bricks ... made of chocolate. So I made a devil's food cake. And waited. And waited. And waited while it baked.

Now I'm not hungry anymore. Gah.

The pope is making a visit to the United States. I'm not Catholic, and I'm going to share my views about the religion or the church institution in general, at least, not in this post. But what is up with the Papel Stadium Tour? He's doing a Washington stadium tonight and tomorrow making an appearance at Yankee Stadium.

So what if you're a devote Catholic and a Red Sox fan? Ponder that.

And I swear, if Natalie IS NOT evicted tonight, I WILL NOT watch the rest of this Season.

The risk that might break is the one that could save

Okay, so it was a huge misconception that spring was here. Nothing like three days of snow and a total accumulation of around four inches to put a person back in their place. A miserable place with no spring in sight.


I think it's safe to say that this has been the longest winter in our recent memory.


A Green Living Update: I got my canvas bags and haven't used a plastic or paper bag for grocery shopping since. My next goal will be to use it in other shopping avenues. I've also tried soy milk. Very good, slightly more expensive than that from a cow. Much more drinkable though and the power used to process it is a renewable resource. I find it funny though that I buy soy milk but cream cheese and yogurt. Oh well, I suppose, baby steps.


On a completely different topic, I didn't realize Phil from The Amazing Race was Scottish. I always knew there was something different about his accent. He's doing a story on the sunday morning show, and while putting across Scotland, his brogue (is it a brogue from Scotland? or is it only a brogue if it's from Ireland?) is coming through.

My latest viewing addiction (in this post-writer's strike world) is Dexter. This series originally airs on Showtime, and by some television act of genius, they are re-airing cleaned up versions on CBS. I first was exposed to Dexter when Jeanne gave me a tape of Season 8's (the one with Evil Dick, was that 8?) Big Brother After Dark, the not-for-broadcast-television footage of drinking, swearing and sometimes raunchy behavior---though this 8 hour footage was awfully mundane.

Anyways, as I was fast-forwarding through the commercials (and the less interesting parts of the show), I caught glimpse of Darla (Julie Benz) the immortally evil vampire, sire of Angel from Buffy the Vampire Slayer. She played that role so well I still get a shiver down my spine when I see her. I stopped and backed up a little, but it was just a montage of the different series on Showtime. It only showed her and a guy.

But as luck would have it, the next commercial block had more. It showed the average looking man who appeared with Darla, narrating his average looking life ... and here's the twist ... he's a serial killer. Oh yeah I read something about this show, a crime series told by the perspective of the murderer. Interesting.

Dexter, our favorite serial killer, is a blood-analyst at a Florida police department/crime lab. He's the best at what he does, and has killer instincts when it comes to habits of the criminals the detectives are investigating.

We learn Dexter was adopted after surviving (and possibly witnessing) a horrible event. His adopted father, a detective, recognized Dexter was different from other children. He taught Dexter how to act normal and control his urges to do murderous things. Soon, Dexter lives by the code he was taught, only killing people who deserve it--people who escaped punishment from the justice system.

Dexter nicks the cheek of each of his victims, saving a drop of their blood on a slide before he dismembers their bodies and dumps them in the ocean.

But Dexter finds himself admiring the work of another serial killer who drains the blood before he dismembers bodies. And this killer--dubbed the Ice Truck Killer--soon takes interest in Dexter. It's cute mutual admiration with breaking and entering, cut up barbie dolls, kidnapping and mutilation.

This show works because other than the urge to kill people and social awkwardness, Dexter is an all around decent and nice guy.

The opening credits are great too. It's just Dexter getting ready in the morning: shaving, eating, tying his shoe, flossing his teeth. But they show it in such a visceral way that it makes it look like he's in the act of killing someone.

Top two photos: Easter eggs this year. I played with putting wax on to get different colors. I tried to do stripes and polka dots but just couldn't control the wax enough to make it work.

Last photo: A picture of the start of my omelet this morning. It looked so much like a yin-yang that I had to take a picture. Now it also reminds me of Dexter's breakfast scene, but this is much more peaceful than his.

It's been too long

Spring is here. Maybe.

I hope this works ... because those would be awful last words

Last week started out pretty rough. I twisted my ankle Monday afternoon. It swelled up pretty badly. Monday night I put ice and heat on it and Tuesday I elevated it the whole day. And it still hurts when I move it wrong.

Tuesday I burned my finger. I heard the skin sizzle. It turned a weird color and broke open almost immediately.

At work we're doing a time study. It was so complicated and confusing--plus they wanted our numbers from 2007.

I can't remember how many hours I worked on various projects on Monday (literally). So you can only imagine the pain of trying to recall the prior year.

So there was a lot of bickering. And I made sure I very plainly noted the 3.5 hours working on the time study ... in my time study.


Only a short post this week kids. I spent most of my allotted blogging time updating the look of my blog. I wanted to give it a little face lift. I couldn't commit to a color overhaul quite yet, so I added a couple new layout/content features. Enjoy.

Make me wanna drop

I had a very busy, stressful week. Tuesday I barely slept and felt the heavy effects the next day. The toll escalated and by Thursday night all my muscles hurt. They were fighting each other on who could ache and who could be stiff. For whoever won this contest, I received the short end of the stick.

The exhaustion overwhelmed me and I slept well, but the stress hangover still persisted.

So Friday night, I had my fill of DVD special features, so I found my MP3 player. I listened to about an hour's worth of music. I felt the relief almost instaneously. The stress melted out. I felt lighter, clearer, happier.

It was such a strong feeling that I took pause to reflect. I realized it was the first day of the week that I had listened to music.


Above Left: A photo of my messsssssy desk. It was one of those...I'm going so crazy so in an effort to not freak out, I'll divert myself by taking a picture of what's making me so crazy. Yeah.

There is still hope

I have spring fever. Along with everyone else I know. Last night it snowed four inches. Let me tell you about a complete blow to a person's will to live. Utterly disheartening. But this morning, by about 9 a.m. it started melting off the roof. That was one of the most surreal things I have experienced.

All of the snow melted off the roof and was raining down in sheets of water for 45 minutes. The sun was shining, there was snow everywhere else.

And I was behind my very own private waterfall.

Photo Above Left: This picture wasn't from the waterfall day, but one of the many snows after it. Enjoy the bleek grey sky that blends so seamlessly with the bleak grey ground.