Farewell and good riddance to the Aughts

Here's the fourth installment of the year in review.  This time, we're saying goodbye to a decade ... my second full.  I'm not sad to see the "aughts" go.  There were generally more good than bad, but the bad moments were so trying and life-altering.


May the 2010 decade bring much happiness, prosperity, merriment and lots of posts!

Three Words to Describe 2009: Loss, Historic, Ripples

TV Show: Two way tie: Grey's Anatomy & Doctor Who

New TV Show: Gotta give this to a radio/cable tv show moment ... Danettes Dodge Ball Bets.  I would get DirectTV just for that (luckily, they are posted on YouTube)

Song: Not Meant to Be - Theory of a Deadman

Book: A Thousand Splendid Suns by Khaled Hosseini

Movie: The biggest disappointment I had when I finally got to see  ... Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End.  Crappy Ending to a series that started out great!

Most Notable NFL Moment: The sign from Sunday: 75% percent of the world is covered by water, the rest is covered by Charles Woodson  (the person who thought that up is BRILLIANT)

I'll turn the channel when: any thing with Sarah Palin on! (Please, Please GO AWAY!)

Gift Given: Kelly's toys ... too, too fun

Best new tradition/habit: Ten Dozen Minutes with Jick & Skully internet-radio show. 

KoL:

Wine: 9 ~ Tomato Wine from my mom's coworker, maybe not the best as compared to "professional wines" but most interesting

Best Blog: Dooce.com

Fa a la la la la lotr

For some reason, I had a hankering for The Lord of the Rings series.  And surprisingly, it's getting me in the Christmas spirit.  I think its because there are so many messages of hope that is pulling me in right now.

These are my favorite passages from the first two movies (courtesy of imdb):

Frodo: I wish the ring had never come to me. I wish none of this had happened.
Gandalf: So do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us. There are other forces at work in this world Frodo, besides the will of evil. Bilbo was meant to find the Ring. In which case, you were also meant to have it. And that is an encouraging thought.

Frodo: I can't do this, Sam.
Sam: I know. It's all wrong. By rights we shouldn't even be here. But we are. It's like in the great stories, Mr. Frodo. The ones that really mattered. Full of darkness and danger, they were. And sometimes you didn't want to know the end. Because how could the end be happy? How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad had happened? But in the end, it's only a passing thing, this shadow. Even darkness must pass. A new day will come. And when the sun shines it will shine out the clearer. Those were the stories that stayed with you. That meant something, even if you were too small to understand why. But I think, Mr. Frodo, I do understand. I know now. Folk in those stories had lots of chances of turning back, only they didn't. They kept going. Because they were holding on to something.
Frodo: What are we holding onto, Sam?
Sam: That there's some good in this world, Mr. Frodo... and it's worth fighting for.


Sam: I wonder if we'll ever be put into songs or tales.
Frodo: [turns around] What?
Sam: I wonder if people will ever say, 'Let's hear about Frodo and the Ring.' And they'll say 'Yes, that's one of my favorite stories. Frodo was really courageous, wasn't he, Dad?' 'Yes, my boy, the most famousest of hobbits. And that's saying a lot.'
Frodo: [continue walking] You've left out one of the chief characters - Samwise the Brave. I want to hear more about Sam.
[stops and turns to Sam]
Frodo: Frodo wouldn't have got far without Sam.
Sam: Now Mr. Frodo, you shouldn't make fun; I was being serious.
Frodo: So was I.
[they continue to walk]
Sam: Samwise the Brave..
(I'm only as far as the Two Towers.)

There's so many things I didn't remember.  And so many fantastic little jokes throughout.  It's one of those movies that keeps drawing me back.

But every time I watch it .... I'm still mad at Eowyn throwing herself at Aragorn, even after he tells her he is bound to another.  Seriously, bitch, step off.  He's Arwen's man.  And she's Elvin.  What do you have to offer other than wielding a sword and whining?

Theoden also drives me a touch crazy (speaking of which, so does Denethor, but that's in the next movie).  Theoden gives up when the Keep is breeched.  No hope, no direction to his army, his people who were still fighting.  Actually, he lead them to their death by going to helms deep in the first place.  Eomer is only Rohirrim that I enjoy (and gets the short end of the stick).

I love that Pippin is the one who gets the idea to lead Treebeard South past Isengard to see the destruction Saruman has wrought against the Earth and the trees.

Faramir is the yummiest actor in a cast of very yummy actors.


Some of the scenes aren't as technically shiny, bright and spectacular as I remembered. I don't know if it's because I've watched the technical behind the scenes so much and I have a pretty good realization how it was put together (and totally disillusioned that that is not Elijah Wood's real hair) or if in the years since this series has come out and it doesn't seem so cutting edge anymore.

To sleep or to watch TV ... that is the question

I write to you, gentle friends, laying in bed, typing happily on my laptop.  I'm pondering watching The Fellowship of the Ring until I fall asleep or skip the middle man and just go to sleep.

The beauty of all of this?  I'm on vacation.

Woo-freakin'-whoo.  I've had a horrible three weeks.  And a pretty sucky month in general.

I've discovered the old adage of when one door closes another one opens also lends way to when you're trapped in a burning building and all the doors are stuck, if you break a window the whole house might combust.

But I can put all of it behind me and out of my mind and enjoy my time away from the rest of the world.

I'm planning on sleeping in.  Wrapping presents.  Watching television and lots of internet videos.  I'm fairly caught up on all the blogs I read, so I'm going to continue reading my 600 page book ... you know the kind, those heavy things made with paper.

I'm also going to write.  Here and hopefully my book.  Watch for posts. Over posts, and lots of catch up work with my photos on flickr.  I'm going to be dangerously close to not making my goal of more posts than last year.  I'll have to do some real soul searching as how to remedy that with a good conscience.

There's also a lot of filing and cleaning I've been neglecting and accumulating since last summer.  It may be dull but if I get some of that done I'll add years to my life.

If I can have one wish for this vacation other than warm weather and that it would never end...  I wish that this stuffy nose will go away ASAP and with it the groggy, headaches and no energy that has been accompanying it.

Most Unique To Do's I've had

My stove area has a weird spill-over burnt smell.  Cleaned it twice to no avail.  Tonight as I was microwaving some green beans, I realized it's the microwave.

To Do List
1. Clean the Microwave

America's Test Kitchen just told my not to buy my normal brand of diced tomatos--and I didn't think they tasted bad.  Their choice is 60 cents more--I'm sticking with mine.

To Do List
1. Clean the Microwave
2. Look at my tomatoes with satisfaction



I love the way my hair looks when it was damp.  It's not soaking wet, it's not quite dry. It's straight and flipping and doesn't feel as heavy.  But then it dries--thickens (is that possible?) and gets that ugly wavy to it.


To Do List
1. Clean the Microwave
2. Look at my tomatoes with satisfaction
3. Straighten my hair

Christmas music is awesome! It totally brightened my mood and helped my decorating move along.

To Do List
1. Clean the Microwave
2. Look at my tomatoes with satisfaction
3. Straighten my hair
4. Listen to more Christmas music.  Add to phone and/or MP3 player

Fall decorations have exploded all over my living room and dining room.  I had half of it put away, but then had to dig it out again to find some ornaments.  I'm in the point where it's gets much worse before it gets better.

To Do List
1. Clean the Microwave
2. Look at my tomatoes with satisfaction
3. Straighten my hair
4. Listen to more Christmas music.  Add to phone and/or MP3 player
5. Put away fall decorations, try not to let the Christmas stuff vomit over everything. Post pictures of exploding, vomiting and the pretty aftermath

I've been discouraged with adventuring because it's taking forever to reach level 30.  I've done all I can do in Hobopolis, and underwater isn't fantastically entertaining.  But, it's Crimbo, and I get to work for a mob penguin.

To Do List
1. Clean the Microwave
2. Look at my tomatoes with satisfaction
3. Straighten my hair
4. Listen to more Christmas music.  Add to phone and/or MP3 player
5. Put away fall decorations, try not to let the Christmas stuff vomit over everything. Post pictures of exploding, vomiting and the pretty aftermath
6. Keep adventuring.  Hope to reach Level 30 before I turn 30.  Hire some hobos. Punch Advent calendar.


I'm shamefully enjoying the trailor of the squeakal of Alvin and Chipmonks.  Who knew Rite Round and Single Ladies were more entertaining when sang by a chipmonk?

To Do List
1. Clean the Microwave
2. Look at my tomatoes with satisfaction
3. Straighten my hair
4. Listen to more Christmas music.  Add to phone and/or MP3 player
5. Put away fall decorations, try not to let the Christmas stuff vomit over everything. Post pictures of exploding, vomiting and the pretty aftermath
6. Keep adventuring.  Hope to reach Level 30 before I turn 30.  Hire some hobos. Punch Advent calendar.
7. Enjoy that Chipmonk commercial.  Laugh. Every. Time.


On the subject of singing.  I'm horrible.  I'm the person Simon Cowell says is atrocious because i thought I had some sliver of talent.  My music teacher in seventh grade said i had expressive eyebrows when i sang, i should have realized how bad of a sign that was.

To Do List
1. Clean the Microwave
2. Look at my tomatoes with satisfaction
3. Straighten my hair
4. Listen to more Christmas music.  Add to phone and/or MP3 player
5. Put away fall decorations, try not to let the Christmas stuff vomit over everything. Post pictures of exploding, vomiting and the pretty aftermath
6. Keep adventuring.  Hope to reach Level 30 before I turn 30.  Hire some hobos. Punch Advent calendar.
7. Enjoy that Chipmonk commercial.  Laugh. Every. Time.
8. Keep singing. Just not in public.  Never listen to myself sing.  Ever again.

And why can't I ....

He said: ...

I said: ...

What I SHOULD have said:  Why do you always have to be such a dick?

Never Good Enough

He said: It's too bad you didn't do better ($500 + food donations for recent food drive)

I said: I'm happy with what we collected.

What I SHOULD have said:
1.  It's a Concert NOT a Dance
2. There's an ever-loving E in my name.
3. I'm NOT a republican!!!!! (Stop sending me propaganda and asking me to coordinate your events!)
4. Nothing is EVER good enough for you, is it?

:-)

D'oh! Oh Network, where did you go?

Around a month ago I came into the office, started my computer, ho-hum just another day.  Computer boots up with no welcome screen.

You know the one, serene blue color, saying, Good morning Stacey.  How's it going?  Is the coffee good this morning?  Did you bring me a cup?  Two creams, one sugar.

Yeah, that one.

Except, it's not there to ask for it's coffee.  The computer takes me straight to the desktop.  An unfamiliar one.  No pretty wallpaper.  No icons of programs that make my world go round.  No various projects that I've saved on the desktop.

And, as I start to hyperventalate because I cannot even access the network, I hear a faint screaming of my computer profile trapped inside the tower.  (From it's shaky account it was blindfolded, poked with searing hot objects and force fed liver)

My profile was sucked away and held hostage for around six hours.  The computer hostage negotiator had to come and boy did he have his hands full.  He had to sweet talk and threaten the evil demon that was torturing my good friend.  I don't know what all went down those six hours except that there were various passwords given and promises made.

In other words, a full work day gone because of technical difficulties.

But that, unpleasant wasteful day was like a hang nail compared to the computer armageddon we experienced this week.

That's right.  A full week.  Five work days.  WITHOUT THE NETWORK. 

The computer that houses the NETWORK was going through black screen convulsions.  "I was not properly shut down last time.  Shut down now? Safe Mode? Resume as is? If you don't touch me within the next five seconds, I'll do whatever I please." 

Turns out, it did the last option no matter what we tried to choose.

It was a crisis situation, so we called in the reserves.

We had email, we had Internet (after some prodding on my part to the so-called-computer-expert) and we had whatever what was located on our individual C-Drives.  Which, my friends, wasn't a whole lot.

One coworker went gangbusters and cleaned.  Which meant she was done with that usually long drawn out task by 2 p.m. on Monday.  (Say it with me folks, F.U.C.K.)

It was an interesting little experiment of who could hold their sanity longest.  (I'm not sure if I won.)

One of us would start something and get cocky.  "Hey, look at me!  I'm working and being productive without the precious NETWORK.  Now I just have to load this Update to the Web site and send out the email ... and .... dammit ... web updates are on the NETWORK. .... WHY GOD, WHY?!?"

La la la, working on something, oh wait, I have to check that figure.  BAM. It's on the NETWORK.

And on. And on. And on.

The busy work and random tasks we could find really didn't task our brains ... and by Wednesday we were all getting a little punchy.

However, our office is now cleaner than when the cleaning Nazi walked our halls.

Friday at two the computer "expert" came back with the computer that houses the NETWORK all new and shiny and working.  The only problem with this is he didn't know where the NETWORK was on the new computer.  He wouldn't listen to the file paths I was giving him.  But oh well, what do I know?

With around one hour left in the week, the NETWORK was restored.  I was so disoriented at all the different options of folders and files that I didn't know what to work on first. 

File it under, What I SHOULD have said ...

She said: Thank you for taking my place in that three hour after work, "sit there and do nothing" thing.

I said: Not a problem.

What I SHOULD have said: "You owe me the first studio show of So You Think You Can Dance?!!"

I've been here before, a few times

I had the oddest memory come to me while I was raking leaves.

It was my freshman year of college and I was in the newspaper office with the other two editors.

Whatever we were talking about came around to the fact I was having trouble sleeping.  One suggested I take sleeping pills.  I said I had thought of that too, but my mom nixed the idea.

He said, "You're an adult now, you don't have to do what your mom says."

I didn't saying anything at the time, because I knew she was right.  They were something I truly didn't need and it was a very real risk that I could have become dependent on them.   A risk I feel better not taking.

My sister and I had a similar conversation about a different obligation.  It was my grandmother's 80th birthday party on the same day as something else I wanted to go to.

"You don't always have to do what mom wants," she said.  Unfortunately I started to cry (I do that when I get frustrated).

I didn't have to be there, but it meant the world to Mom and Grandma.

I've done plenty of things my mom is not happy about or things she wouldn't have chosen for me. But what they don't understand is being an adult means that just because you can do something doesn't mean you should.

With that said, if I could have found a way to go to that Goo Goo Dolls concert when I was 17 and forced to go to Grandpa's birthday party, I so would have.

Come on now, Johnny trumps all.

I Miss You. I Miss You.

When I was young we went camping as a family.  My grandparents and quite a few of my mom's brothers and sisters and their kids.  We would have nearly half the campground to ourselves, the family is so big. 

These were probably my favorite moments of my childhood summers.  Beautiful warm days, all together at Lake Solberg in Phillips.

One time, Laura and Lenny were there, my mom's aunt and uncle.  They wanted to go fishing off the dock and they invited me too.  My dad had gotten me my own fishing gear, so I was all set.  They showed me how to cast, and reel the line in.  It was with them that I had caught my first fish.  I remember being so proud, and their smiles shining on me with pride.

After that my dad and I went fishing when we would go camping without the family and it would be just me and him.

Every family reunion I would stop by them to say hi and they would always ask how my fishing was going.  When we stopped camping they would just ask about me. With such a big family, and not being the loudest of the crowd, it's easy to sink in your own little corner, pigeon-holed to a typecast that someone else fits on you.

But they always saw me.  Maybe they saw the little girl I was, with that tiny fish that one summer.

And now, Lenny died.  And I'm going to miss seeing him.

It's great with that jacket, it's like you're one big sexy fish

I've been staying up late this week, and sleeping in too.  Who needs time to get ready for work in the morning?  Apparently, not me, maybe.

I'm not sure why I'm not going to sleep at a normal time.  In the whole of September I probably stayed awake past 9:30 all of five times.  Hey wait ... maybe this means that cold is finally gone.  Except for the inexpictible stuffy nose and sneezing I was doing this morning.  But to make myself feel better, I'll pretend that was allergies.

Yesterday I watched a two hour interview with Seth MacFarlane online.   Yes, I'm a dork.  But oh yes, it was fantastic.  (too lazy to find the link for it, stayed up too late to remember what it was called).  It was some made for the Internet show hosted by a comedian.  Seth had three beverages and then asked for a salad, and then they brought him one. (it was more funny last night then what it sounds now)  Seth was on Flash Forward (fucking awesome, hopefully he's on more episodes and will maybe have a storyline.  One show at a time, MacFarlane is taking over the television)

Tonight I indulged in some Blink 182 & Mark Hoppus you tube clips.  Nice.  The Hartford concert tribute after DJ AM died brought a lump to my throat. I think the lack of sleep effects the numbers side of my brain first because all night long I've been typing 192 and then I'm all wtf? That's not right.

I'm trying to stay awake for South Park, I'm not sure if I'm going to make it.  Hmmm The Late Show with Craig Ferguson is starting to get a little raunchy. 

He says that when you want to be crazy and yell at people, back in the day they used green ink. I didn't realize that.

Last week I got Children of the Corn from the library and watched it with mom.  It has Linda Hamilton in it, and I am contractually obligated to watch anything with Linda Hamilton with mom.  It really wasn't scary by any means, but most horror films from the 80's weren't really that scary.  The male lead was dumb as a box of rocks like most characters in horror films.  It got to the point I was routing for them to kill him.  He kept trying to talk to the brainwashed, crazy, murderous children.  Don't be fooled by this ridiculous dogma he would sneer at them as they closed in around him weilding their reapers and macheties. 

Towards the end was really the best.  He yelled at one of the kids that didn't show homicidal tendencies to get out of the cornfield, but then asked him three separate times for help. He was making a molatov cocktail to set the cornfield on fire and three it to an area that he hadn't sprayed with alcohol. The kid ran and got it, gave it back to him and said "Now throw it right this time!"  Nice.

And THEN at the very end, he got attacked again (because he's that much of an idiot), and Linda saves the day.  He starts wondering what they should do cuz this girl in unconscious in the front seat.  She says, if you want to become a doctor in Seattle, we got to get the hell out of this town.  Yeah, duh---but if I were Linda I'd leave him behind to convince the crazy girl that she shouldn't follow the word of he who walks behind the rows.  For an atheist, he has too many conservative righteousness.

I just learned from TMZ that the Saints have a bye this week.  Damn, them plus the Packers, I have a lot of players I need to replace.  I hope the Colts and Steelers aren't on a Bye or I'm pretty screwed.

Ohhhh, it's the hurricane katrina episode of South Park.  Gotta stay awake for that.

The Where the Wild Things Trailer makes me smile because the song is the closing of the last segment on Fridays (Arcade Fire) for the Dan Patrick Show.  I also love when Seton plays Blink 182 songs.

CBS plays instrumentals from AvA during their pregame show.  It really puts a damper on my Sunday.  Not enough that I would ever consider watching the FOX show, but still yuck.

And with that .... Ladies and Gentlemen .... the stylings of South Park, and then to sleep.

Should have bought stock in Kleenex

Ahhh ... AHHH ... CHOOOOOO!!!!!!

Obviously I'm sick.  I've had a cold for about three weeks. Sniffy nose and miserable.  Now, I've caught another cold that includes huge sneezes every other minute.  Stuffy nose, watery eyes.  FUN.

This cold has left me even more unmotivated than I usually am--which is pretty pathetic.

In this haze of tissues, the one thing that drives me crazy is that people need to give an opinion about what's really wrong.  Because it's absolutely polite to say to someone who just told you they were miserable for the past two days that they really don't have a cold.  It's the flu.  Or, it's allergies.  Of course you know my body better than me.  I've only had it for 26 years.

But let me tell you, it's a cold--it feels like every other cold I've had.  And unless you have a medical degree and you have checked me over, you don't know. Come a little closer, tell me again, and I'll sneeze on you.

It's one of those colds that if I could remove my nose from my face until it was back to working order, I would.

A nice little touch to my cold today is the sudden dip in temperatures.  We received the first taste of fall today--complete with 40 mile-an-hour winds.   The weird thing about these winds is they are truly gusts.  It can be calm one moment and then, like right now, they bloom up out of nowhere and look like they could rip the trees out of ground.  Even those two ginormous pine trees in my backyard.  I think they may have even lost a couple of limbs.  I'd go out and look, but it's 47 degrees out, and I'm not that curious.

I just finished My Sister's Keeper.  Something you should try to avoid when you have a cold?  Crying.  Man. I did not see that coming.  Not the crying.  This book has been great and captivating, but hard.  It hits too close to home and it wasn't something I could breeze through without fighting serious bouts of depression.  But the ending.  Wow.

Get the book.  Read it.  Make sure you have tissues.  Then go hug your kids, and your parents.

Tingling all over

Kick off weekend was awesome.  So awesome, in fact, I think I was a little over-stimulated.

What a better way to start the season than a game that went into overtime?

See that red light? It means you shouldn't be moving.

The road construction is really pushing me to my limit.

It's not the detours, having to drive through an obstacle course of orange barrels and gravel.  I don't care that we've been playing the guess which road is closed today game since April.

What's driving me bonkers is that in dealing with all of this, people have decided that sacrifices they make because of this construction means that they do not have to obey traffic signals.

There's one area at a four way stop, if you have to make a left turn you should factor in another 15 minutes to your travel time.

Picture this: You're sitting in a line of cars as far as the eye can see, about six car lengths away from the left turn lane.  You can see that precious green turn arrow ahead in the distance pointing you towards the promised land.  The long line of cars vaguely begins to move.  When you are four car lengths away from merging into the turn lane, the arrow turns yellow.

And, then once you finally get in that lane, you lose right of passage.  That is, supposibly.

But the two cars ahead of you decide they are above the authority of that lighted arrow and continue to turn without it. This makes the oncoming cars (who, technically have the right of way) wait.  These cars decide they will continue on their way at the red light, because they were cheated out of their green light.

This sets off a cascade of vehicles traveling through the intersection whenever the hell they please only regarding the signals as a vague suggestions. 

This traffic sucks, I get it.  But because you needed to go at that very second, you just made the whole process five minutes longer.  It's a crap shoot people, and a wonder how there hasn't been an accident.

Oh, on a separate note, I was at a presentation for work at an elementary school yesterday and some parent backed into my car.  Then, she high tailed her pick up out of the parking lot.  The office personnel told me what happened and called the police.  I waited around for 25 minutes to file a report, he said it looked like over $1,000 damage.

I haven't gotten the estimate yet, but that's exactly what I needed.  Add my broken oven, and the other engine repairs the car needed anyway, looks like the fall bills will be hefty.

Let me count the ways ...

Ah, the start of the NFL Season, only topped by the thrill of the Super Bowl. Kickoff weekend brings all the things I love about football flooding back ...

1. Feats of brain over brawn (Denver WR-Brandon Stokley running parallel so that time ran off the clock or the Brian Westbrook play last year where he took a knee on the one yard line instead of scoring so the clock would run out and the other team wouldn't have a chance to score).
2. The chatter and cadence at the line of scrimmage before the snap.
3. The beauty of a pass rocketing straight down the field to a waiting receiver.
4. Sacking the other team's quarterback.
5. A defender appearing out of seemingly no where to swoop in, intercept the ball and run it in for a touchdown.
6. The winded D-lineman when he's the one running down the field trying to make a touchdown after a fumble recovery or tipped ball.
7. Whisper of a perfect completion.
8. Thwack of a batted away ball.
9. Comrade of the players and coaches.
10. Grace of the athletes.
11. Toeing in touchdowns.
12. One handed catches.
13. One handed over the shoulder catch between two defenders.
14. A pass that's floated into a receiver and caught without breaking stride.
15. Anticipation of the big game.
16. Celebrations.
17. Pre-game choreography.
18. The synchronicity of no-huddle offense.
19. Redirection at the line of scrimmage.
20. New commercials (practically better than famed super bowl ads).
21. Holding your breath at the big play, waiting to see the conclusion.
22. Ricocheted passes that are completions and touchdowns.
23. Perfectly executed blocks.
24. Making defenders miss.
25. Shrugging out of a sack.
26. Stiff-arming a player two times bigger.
27. Nail biting final moments that pay off.
28. Making something out of nothing.
29. When reviews go your team's way.
30.  Complicated formulas to get into the playoffs.
31. Third down defensive stands.
32.  Stretching for the first down.
33.  Big yards after the catch plays.
34. Booming kick off or punts.
35. Field goals that dink off the upright.
36. Eleven hours of football (with pregame/post game).
37. The really good color commentators & pregame shows.
38. Surprises as scores come up on the ticker.
39. Bad weather games.
40. High scoring games.
41. Broken plays that gain yards.
42. Fake plays.
43. Blocked field goals.
44. Triple digit fantasy points.
45. Ending the game with an interception.

Of Ice Cream Trucks and Doodleage

I'm sitting here quite ravenous waiting for supper.  15 minutes never seemed quite so long, and I should have started prep about a half hour ago so I wouldn't be contemplating chewing off my arm or polishing off the rest of the ice cream.

I'm waiting for my portabella mushrooms to rehydrate so I can finish my stir fry.  I love mushrooms, especially the bellas, but they are so pricey.  I hope this cheaper alternative is a good alternative.

Today is day two (or four if you count the weekend) of my long awaited vacation.  I've been blessed with such beautiful weather.  I've slept in, watched favorite television shows I don't usually get to see, had lunch out and been canceled on three times.  Three times!  Everyone is canceling on me.  Oh well.

Today my godmother, grandmother, aunt and cousin came for a visit with my mom. My mom made a point to inquire about the depth of my cleaning last night.  I don't think she approves of my standards of housekeeping.  Now, I'll admit I'm not the best.  But it's never more than an hour or two of spot cleaning to get it back to presentable.

I made sure to ask her what she thought of the state of the house on the phone tonight.  She approved. If she wouldn't have, it wouldn't have taken too much of a toll, but it's still nice to get the compliment.

This week I've been serenaded by the hum of air conditioners all around me.  By necessity I think I've trained myself to deal with the heat (not that it's been that hot this summer).  Because two years ago I would have been begging to turn the air on or UP. I don't have air in my house and have only ran my fans around three times.

As I write this, I sit under a quilt (and it's around 74 degrees).  I still have two quilts, a blanket, sheet, plus a throw on my bed.

Dude, an Ice Cream truck!  I didn't think they still existed. What fun. If I had some cash I would help the Ice Cream Truck Economy.

I've become quite a doodler lately, and I don't usually do so.  These doodles aren't anything interesting.  In fact, they're just swirls and scrolls.  While I was recreating the same looping swirl over again during video editing, I got the thought to incorporate my subject of doodleage in a new masthead.  But how?

Over and over again, my pen looped around, and I realized my swirls reminded me of Starry Night and I did a quick sketch of this masthead.  I'm not totally satisfied with it, but overall, I like the effect.

I'm frustrated with the overall look and organization of my template, but haven't found anything I like better.  So, I guess this will do.

Another frustration is my innate nature to avoid writing the book I'm working on.  I'm an aspiring writer, which I've always hated admitting, because, isn't everyone?

I have three solid ideas which I sketch out and write passages here and there.  I don't know if its the struggle of prose that keeps me stagnant, the double duty of typing my written long hand (because the open and vast blankness of the word processor sucks the creativity out of me) or the vanity of writing for an immediate audience.

My good intentions always fall flat.  With my remaining time this week, I'll try to remedy that.  Ooof.

The hot tamale train is nearly at the station again

I love that Dooce loves So You Think You Can Dance?.

How exciting is it SYTYCD will be on this fall?

Even though I enjoy him, I hope Evan leaves this week. I think final two will be Kayla and Brandon -- with Brandon winning. (Even though I like Jeanine more than Kayla, but I think Kayla is the better dancer)

My predictions for final standings (I cannot believe the finale is next week!)

1. Brandon
2. Kayla
3. Jeanine
4. Ade
5. Melissa
6. Evan

With the exception that America is in love with Evan and he might make it to the final, leaving Ade going home tonight. 

Just like sour chocolate soy milk

Driving home from work today I almost hit a kid on a scooter. Almost as in if I hit the brake about 5 seconds later this would be a whole different post. I was still in the momentum from my turn when a little blond boy no older than seven, rolling on his scooter, zipped from the sidewalk by the other lane, over the center line to my lane.  My heart was still pounding as I turned into my driveway.

No, wait, it wasn't.  The pounding was replaced utter annoyance as I had to sit on the edge of the road waiting to turn right onto the street that leads to my home.  There I got to see the smooth moves of a teenager trying to ride and trick out a skateboard in the middle of the road.  Or should I say, IN THE MIDDLE OF THE F'ING ROAD!?  DO YOU NOT REALIZE I ALMOST HIT A SEVEN-YEAR-OLD AND BY GOD DON'T TEMPT ME TO MOW YOU DOWN!

Then, THEN this kid looks at me over his shoulder, tries a kick flip, and fails.  He picks up his board and walks to the sidewalk.  I wish I had skills so I could grab his board, do a wicked backside kickflip 360 give it back and walk away.  As if to say, this is my road and you better clear the way when I'm coming punk.

To continue my issues, I learned that using my office key to open the house doesn't work.  And chocolate soy milk goes bad really quickly. This discovery was such a disappointment.  I had at least two more glasses in there and I was really looking forward to having a glass of chocolate milk with my omelet for supper.

More awesomeness

Blink-182, always involved with something awesome.  Click the photo above to enter to win a ton of prizes.

Say it isn't so

Oh Big Ben, I hope it's not true.

Ben Roethilsberger vows to fight 'reckless' lawsuit

Putting your heart in it

I saw this performance on Ellen in November.  I was so struck by it that I immediately downloaded a copy of the song.
 
Beyonce -- Flaws and All on Ellen

Just saw it again today and had to share.

My absolute favorite Beyonce performance ever. 

Another Day

My brain is so wired with deadlines and yard work and housework that I'm not posting as regularly as I would like.  And I regret that terribly.

Remember when I said I could do it but I might go crazy?  Moving up everything a month?  I wasn't kidding.  And instead of that week off I wanted?  I think we should make a month.  And y'all can fend for yourself.

Recently I discovered I have a chipmonk bogarting my birdfeed (though I still hold true on those rules and the birds disrespecting my authority).  Watching the little guy shimmy up the pole and stuff his little cheeks was cute for the first couple of times.   By the fifth time the second day, I started throwing things at the window.  (When they take me to the crazy house, will you visit?)

I finally got the Brilliant idea that he couldn't shimmy if he couldn't get proper grip (and wasn't affiliated with any climbing association).  So I went all crisco on his ass .... or shepard's hooks.  Problem solved.

The birds must have told the bunny who was using my flowers as a buffet that "Dude, she means it and you better watch your poofy little cotton tail, because she's gunning for you."  Because I haven't seen him in plants or nibblings of plants in weeks.  I do however observe him and his momma every night in the neighbor's yard around 7 or 8.  As long as meal time in the Foo Foo family stays out of my yard I'll turn a blind eye to these activities.

I'm dangerously close to a music rut, which could spell very bad business right now.  Sarah turned me on to pandora.com, which is enjoyable for work.  I use last.fm at home and the only problem with both these services is that it generates a playlist for you based on songs you rate positively vs. negatively.  So when you throw one off beat song in there, it totally messes everything up.  We both had to waste our skips on weird songs that were being thrown into the rotation.

I get it though, Punk + Adult Alternative  = the Twang Kings.   No, no ... I totally make the connection.  It's a standardized test thing right? bread is to food as Twangs Kings is to poking my eyes out with very sharp objects.

Speaking of sharp objects, I broke a chopstick trying to put my hair up yesterday.  I've gone through a lot of chopsticks that way and forgot the shock and dismay when it snaps.  Then the contemplation.  Should I fish out the broken part later?  It's up and so tight that it'll actually look nice for a couple of hours if I leave it alone ... 

I might have to go in to get my hair thinned out though, I straightened it and it wasn't Barbie hair.  It was flat and limp.  Like cabbage patch yarn hair.  (Tim's head exploded at that statement I'm sure)

One last bit and I should go do dishes.  Mom and I were sitting after doing yard work last weekend and she said to me, "Is that your vein?" (the blue line on my thigh, completely flat and always been there btw)  Well, yes it is. "Oooooohhhhh you're going to get vericos veins!!"  Gee, Mom thanks for completely tapping into my insecurities and killing my self esteem.  It's your genes screwing me once again.

Moral of the story, mother nature always wins

Sunday as I was digging up the (ugly) ferns around my house a bug (hornet, bee, wasp? I dunno) flew up and stung me .... behind my ear ....

The pain was instant and so intense I thought I had been shocked by my MP3 player.

I went inside and brushed my 'ear' off and felt around it to see if I could tell where I had been stung.

Later that night as I was getting ready for bed I noticed in the mirror a three inch diameter swollen and red cirlce by my 'ear.'

Panic set in.  This was the first time I had been stung since Lymes Disease and I didn't know how I'd react.

Lymes Disease? What, you say you don't know the tale of when a teeny tiny tick bit me and then knocked me on my ass for three months?  Well then, let me regale you.

It was the Friday before the 4th of July weekend back in the ye olde year of 2004.  I woke up with a pain in my side and when I went to show my mom she discovered a 4 inch oval that was red and swollen. My knees were also bothering me so she decided we should visit the doctor.

Dr. dippy-dandy looked at my side and said it was probably an allergic reaction or something and took blood work.  He gave me a wimpy dose of antibiodics (like the kind used to treat a hang nail or something) and said come back when this three day supply is gone if the rash doesn't go away.

Achy knees turned into hardly being able to sit still to sharp nagging pain in my ankles, knees and hips.

I wasn't sleeping well and by the time Monday and my three day supply rolled around we went back.

The "welt" hadn't gone away, but really wasn't worse, and the blood work came back normal. He told me there was pretty much nothing he could do.  So I asked for something for the pain.  Obviously I was a just a college student looking for a high because he told me it was all in my head and I should just go home and try not to think about it. (Seriously.)


The passing days did not mark any improvement in my condition.  The pain was constant and so bad that if I sat down for any period of time every joint felt as though it was being seared with a white-hot flame.  The only relief I felt was when I was standing, moving or with cool baths, but as soon as the water hit room temperature it was unbearable again.  I couldn't sit still, let alone fall asleep. I went for three days with no sleep except for a couple of 15 minute naps in the time it took for the water to drain from the bathtub.

Needless to say, it wasn't a good thing for my mood, and my mom was getting a bit annoyed with how irritable I was getting. (She still points it out, but I'm all "give me a break, I hadn't slept for three days. Isn't there a study that no sleep for seven days and you die, five days and you go crazy? I was this close to absolutely losing it on you.")

At my wits end, and praying for some relief or death, we went back in to the doctor's office. 

Thankfully the original quack...er, doctor I saw was on vactation, so they gave me his replacement.  She took my temperature and reported a whopping 109 degrees.  Finally, she acknowledged something might be wrong.  She gave me a higher dose of antibodics, the "we don't know what the fuck you have, but this should knock the everything but the black plague out of you" dose.

These lovely little pills gave me a splitting headache.  So bad that I couldn't lift my head. And I thought not sleeping was rough.  These pills kept me on a pretty regular schedule.  Take a pill, contemplate throwing up because the pain was so bad, sleep for four hours.  Wake up, take a pill, cry because it hurt so, so much; sleep for four hours.  And on. And on.  Well, at least I got some sleep.

I'm not sure how long I kept this cycle, I lost a lot of hours.  But after the prescription was nearing it's end and I wasn't any better my mom made an appointment with the infectionous disease doctor.

I went to visit him, exhausted and in so much pain I could hardly move my limbs.  He took a blood sample and had it tested for malaria, west nile, lymes and other random third world diseases that might be lurking in the outdoors of Central Wisconsin.  The results would be back in a week.  In the meantime he gave me a different set of antibodics at a much lower dose to keep fighting whatever was ailing me--with the warning to stay out of the sun and watch for insects. 

What a fun summer.  I did get a mosquito bite that weekend though, made my arm swell to the size of an orange for a day.

A week later the result: Lymes Disease.  Yet another prescription of more targeted antibodics for another month and I was to come back in six weeks to see if I was successfully treated.  In October, I received the happy prognosis that my Lymes was treated, but I would always be a risk for achy joints and sensitivity to bugs.

I can tell when I'm stressed, getting sick or a really bad storm is coming on.  My knees, hips/lower back will hurt.

So back to the sweet little insect who stung me on Sunday.  The summer of the Lymes Disease flashed through my head as I fought back a panic attack and the urge to call my coworker to tell her if I don't come in any day this week I was probably laying dead somewhere in the house.

Monday the red circle had gotten bigger and I had to take out my 'earring' because the area itched so much.  By the end of the day I had a head-splitting headache and all I could do was lay in bed for three hours, willing it away.  My mom suggested benydril, so Tuesday I went to the store and got the biggest bottle I could find (and some bug spray). 

Swelling was still the same, but it took the itch away.  I got home from work on Tuesday, made supper, ate and sat down to watch a television show before I did dishes.  I woke up at 6:30 and only pulled myself out of bed to take some benydrill before I went to sleep for the night.

Wednesday I could finally see some improvement.  Oh joy! I wouldn't have to go to the emergency room! 

Today, Thursday, it's completely gone and itch free, so I could put my 'earring' back in.  Whoohoo, I didn't want the hole to close up.


All my life, I've been scared of spiders and snakes.  Guess I should have been terrified of ticks.  Now I get the hee-bee-jee-bees every time I walk under a tree or a bush brushes me.  Plus when we find a tick (and thankfully, I've only had one) I burn the ever-living-hell out of it.

Shape Up

Dear Birdies who frequent my feeders,

I had hoped it wouldn't come down to this, for we had a pretty amicable deal going.  You, birds of all types, race, genders and sexualities, could eat from my feeders whenever you were hungry.  In turn, I would be serenaded by your cheerful chirps, your witty banter and the various flutterings of wings or general tomfoolery.

But, as most situations, some birds spoiled it for the whole group (or perhaps, flock).

I feel the necessity to draw up this contract because recent evidence has shown a general disrespect for my time, possessions and generosity.

I ask that you respectfully follow these guidelines from this point forward or refrain from frequenting my feeders.  I will not apologize for any curse words or objects I hurl at offenders. 

My requests are simple and not too taxing.

1. Eat from the feeder, and stop throwing the seed on the ground.  This is more so a problem with the South feeder.  Should you see anyone eating carelessly please reprimand them.  Remember, small actions do truly make a difference.  Also, feel free to eat any seed that has fallen from the feeder.  Look past any barbaric trapping you may have about this and consider this "roughing it."

2. After enjoying your meal or snack, fly away from my property or in the very least, find yourself a tree before using the "restroom."  I expect not see any "accidents" on my driveway, front door, back step or car from this point forward.  If you need to do your business, by all means, visit the neighbors.

I realize I have responsibility in this relationship but feel as though I have upheld my side.  Feeders are filled promptly when they start getting low.  I do my part to keep your bird bath water fresh.

Really, these are my only requests.  I am disappointed I need to fill the feeder every week when I see all the wasted seed on the ground.  And I don't need any sunflowers planted, so don't use that excuse.  I enjoy your company but am starting to weigh the expense of wasted seed and cleaning supplies over an MP3 of singing birds and a study in feathers and wings screensaver.

Consider these points and note I'm not going to be so flexible if these problems persist.  While you're at it, have a chat with dear little bunny who gorges himself on my flower beds.  His fluffy little cotton tail won't save his ass much longer.

Sincerely,

the hand that feeds you

Time, why you punish me?

I love my feet. Probably more than someone should love their own feet.  They are the perfect shape and proportion.  A perfect nail for each perfectly shaped toe.  The love extends so deeply because it's the only part of my body that I feel this way, or anywhere close.

My beautiful feet are somewhat rare in my house and extended family.  My family has a strong history of bunions.  Most of my aunts on my mom's side suffer from them.  And over the years I've seen it destroy my mom's feet.

Bunions, other than hereditary, are caused in part from the shoes you wear, namely tight and pointy shoes.  Which I avoid.  LIKE THE PLAGUE.


So imagine my complete and utter distress when I realized my feet were changing.

It happened one night last year.  I believe it was around my birthday, which probably set off the quarterlife crisis.   We were watching TV and out of the corner of my eye I noticed my foot looked different.  There was a bit of rounding on the side past my big toe. 

No.  It can't be.  I had been so careful, but life had caught up with me.  My stupid genes (no offense, Mom & Dad) had screwed me over once again.

Because there it was, the start of a bunion.  And then came the tears.  Silently they flowed for probably two hours.  Once or twice my mom looked over and finally confirmed it.

"What's wrong, why are you crying?"

My feet.  .... bunions.

With an inspection, she said the absolute wrong thing to comfort me.  She confirmed I had them.

More tears.

Then the rest of the night  I was inconsolable as she wondered out loud what the big deal was and why I was so upset.  And then said it was because of toe cracking.  Wondrous, airy, magnificent toe cracking.

My feet, my beatiful feet.  Destroyed.  Gone.

Later that summer my aunt Joannie said they weren't very noticeable and maybe if I stayed with sensible shoes it wouldn't develop until years later.  That made me feel better.  THAT'S what Mom should have said.

This year, my toes started tingling, aching and burning at night.  Dammit.

Well after three days I went to the store and bought everything I could find that was a toe spacer or cushion.  Then I switched to flats. FLATS.

Goodbye couple extra inches; Hello yes I'm really this short.

After two weeks of constant babying my feet felt normal again.  Is it mostly in my head?  Perhaps.  Are my feet still straight and mostly bump free?  Thankfully, yes.

Sadly though, I'm nowhere as carefree as I was a little over a year ago.  

Five reasons why the dishes don't get done

I don't read as many books since my discovery of blogs and RSS feeds. I think college and 100+ pages due per class, per day destroyed the reading for enjoyment part of my brain too.  But it's gone a step (or two, or a leap) beyond that ... I have to pay attention to my Internet time otherwise I could spend endless hours engrossed in all the wonders it holds.

I love finding little gems or discovering the ultra-trendy site that everyone else in various trendy circles knows about.  To make this list, I narrowed it to blogs I read faithfully and those that update frequently (this knocked off Grey Matter--from the Writers of Grey's Anatomy, since they don't post when the show is in hiatus).

I am also only including the sites I've been reading for at least six months (which eliminated my new find from Dooce's Twitter feed: Favrd--and no, it's not about THAT quarterback.

So with no further ado, here is a brief list of my favorites. 

Dooce.com -- a "Mommy" blog that's so much more.  This blog chronicles the life of Heather B. Armstrong, wife and mother of two (as of Saturday).  A former Mormon who got fired from her LA job in web design for writing about work on her blog.  She and her new husband moved back to Utah even though their political views and drinking habits are polar opposites of their former faith.  After having her first child, she committed herself to a mental hospital with a severe case of postpartum depression (as noted on her blog and new book).

I discovered this blog from a copy writing e-newsletter.  It mentioned her blog along with about four or five other "Mommy Blogs."  I don't know why I clicked this link, but what I read had me captivated.

The first post I read was about Halloween 2008 (I'd post a link, but there's a lot of lag on her web site right now b/c she just posted the announcement for their new daughter), I loved it instantly and went back to the beginning of the site, via archives and read from there.  Six months later, I finally am up to date and on to reading her husband's site.  He is more politically and geek oriented (said with love of course) and it's just as enjoyable to read Jon's point of view as things unfold in the Armstrong household.

PostSecret -- Published Sunday mornings, this site is a community art/social project where people send in post cards with their secrets.  These post cards are elaborately designed homemade masterpieces, photographs or the typical tourist post card.

This site is interesting on many levels.  Sometimes its the beauty of the cards and the amazing talent of their artists.  Sometimes its the outrageous secrets--confessions of silly, fun or naughty little things people do.  Like the person who puts your insurance claim at the bottom of the pile when he/she can't read your writing.  THAT changed how much I pay attention to my penmanship.

The most striking aspect of this site is the heart-wrenching or devastating statements of abuse, rape, depression, addiction, and every so often, love.  I've cried more than once reading these short, but meaningful secrets.

I found this site by a search after watching an episode of CSI:NY.  It wasn't the same site featured on the show, but it had the same concept of sending secrets on homemade cards for the world to see but no one to know.

A site I found from PostSecret, Found is somewhat similar as it gives you a glimpse of a fraction of a stranger's life.  This site displays found items people send in.  It's amazing the things people find and where they find them: on the street, sidewalk, parking lot, benches, attics, books, elevators and on and on and on.

The found items are typically old and interesting photographs or odd notes, which are a hoot.

TXTS FRM LST NGHT -- I came across this site from Mark Hoppus' blog (which is another blog and/or Twitter feed you should hook into).  The name is pretty self explanatory.  Amusing texts from every day life that people then send to the site to be published.  Not surprisingly, many of these texts are from intoxicated people.  But if we can't be amused from their stupidity, what's the point??

Finally, I also frequently check $5 Dinners.  This Mommy blogger writes about her tips and strategies to feed her family on five dollars a meal. I'm looking for ideas and tips moreso than actually reading this blog like I read Dooce. The creater of $5 Dinners outlines menu plans, has great, inexpensive and healthy recipe ideas and coupons.  I don't often get to the coupons in time, but she has great variety in her recipes and I've used around five of her recipes and adapted many others.

I discovered this site from Blogs of Note, a list of interesting sites updated monthly from the staff of Blogger.


So those are my favs.  Add movies and tv shows, music, the Dan Patrick Show and the occasional game you can understand why I have to be careful about my Internet time at home.  But hot damn, with high speed there are so many possibilites!

What are your favorite sites/blogs?  I'm always looking for a new addiction...err...something to read.

Make You Smile +44 (My life as told by my music)

A friend did this on facebook and her answers were perfect and hilarious.  Mine, not as much, but somewhat amusing.

My Life As Told By *Generic MP3 Player*
1. Put your iTunes, IPod or Windows Music Player on shuffle.
2. For each question, press the next button to get your next answer.


1. IF SOMEONE SAYS, “IS THIS OKAY?” YOU SAY
Geek in Pink - Jason Mraz

2. WHAT WOULD BEST DESCRIBE YOUR PERSONALITY?
Curbside Profit - Jason Mraz

3. WHAT DO YOU LIKE IN A GUY/GIRL?
Seasons of Love - Rent Soundtrack

4. WHAT IS YOUR LIFE’S PURPOSE?
Love Song for No One - John Mayer      (that's not a huge stamp of confidence)

5. WHAT IS YOUR MOTTO?
You Found Me - The Fray

6. WHAT DO YOUR FRIENDS THINK OF YOU?
I'm OK - Christina Aguilera

7. WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT OFTEN?
Circus - Britney Spears

8. WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR BEST FRIEND?
Infatuation - Christina Aguilera

9. WHAT DO YOU THINK OF THE PERSON YOU LIKE?
Trees - Marty Casey

10. WHAT IS YOUR LIFE STORY?
The Man Who Sold the World - Nirvana

11. WHAT DO YOU WANT TO BE WHEN YOU GROW UP?
Shut Up - Blink-182

12. WHAT DO YOU THINK WHEN YOU SEE THE PERSON YOU LIKE?
Comfortable - John Mayer

13. WHAT DO YOUR PARENTS THINK OF YOU?
Here is Gone - The Goo Goo Dolls

14. WHAT WILL YOU DANCE TO AT YOUR WEDDING?
Broken - Seether Feat. Amy Lee

15. WHAT WILL THEY PLAY AT YOUR FUNERAL?
Going Away to College - Blink-182

16. WHAT IS YOUR HOBBY/INTEREST?
Addicted - Saving Abel

17. WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR FRIENDS?
No, It Isn't - +44

18. WHAT’S THE WORST THING THAT COULD HAPPEN?
Ever The Same - Rob Thomas

19. HOW WILL YOU DIE?
Right Here - Staind

20. WHAT IS THE ONE THING YOU REGRET?
Photograph - Nickelback

21. WHAT MAKES YOU LAUGH?
Weatherman - +44

22. WHAT MAKES YOU CRY?
Elizabeth - Jonathan Jackson

23. WHAT SCARES YOU THE MOST?
Apologize - One Republic feat Timberland

24. DOES ANYONE LIKE YOU?
Rockin' the Suburbs - Ben Folds Five

25. IF YOU COULD GO BACK IN TIME, WHAT WOULD YOU CHANGE?
My Love - Justin Timberlake

26. WHAT HURTS RIGHT NOW?
Here Without You - 3 Doors Down

27. WHAT WILL YOU POST THIS AS?
Make You Smile - +44

This is it. It might all be gone tomorrow

This season of Grey's Anatomy is in the high form not seen since Prom Night of the Adulterous Sex, Denny's death and the night Snow Patrol was put on the map.

The magic is back.

The writing is quick and witty.  Each main character is rich and complex with story lines given the perfect amount of attention.

And it all started again with Izzy and Denny. 

I've always enjoyed Denny and his relationship with Izzy.  It was the beautiful fairytale with a Shakespearean ending.  It's iconic moment, Izzy in her fantastic pink prom dress laying on Denny's death bed, her forehead pressed into his neck.

A great majority of people will not be able to hear strains of Snow Patrol-Chasing Cars without picturing that moment.

But much has changed at Seattle Grace since.  That night was quite a turning point for our Interns.  That night things stopped being so simple.  So black and white.  They learned science cannot always save them and their choices have irreversible consequences.  You can't go back.

That night Izzy lost her way.  Her whole world changed, collapsed, and she really hadn't found her way back until this season.  Specifically, the moment she realized she was alone.

And then came Denny.

Not a lot of people liked that Izzy could see, talk to and ... with Denny.  I loved it.   This interaction brought back Izzy as she used to be: playful, vibrant. 

She lost her strength and compassion.  She lost her essence.  But Denny, our dearly departed Denny helped her find it again.

And it led her to the clinic and the Interns.  In teaching them she found a balance between the rockstar doctor and the sensitive-sometimes-over-the-line doctor.

She did such a good job engaging the Interns to take learning seriously--where everyone else had failed.  She also played a part in helping Alex heal after yet another train wreck (Ava), Christina find a heart, Meredith commit to an extravagant wedding (which helped her learn that all she really wanted/needed was a good marriage) and George the strength to stand on his own feet.

Izzy touched all the key players of Seattle Grace -- just like we affect everything around us, in so many ways we'll probably never know.

But, I think Izzy's purpose has been fulfilled and she should die. What is there left for her to do?  Because I can't see her growing old with Alex, and I realize there's plenty of more guys for her to sleep with, but really, been there, done that.  If you hadn't noticed, Izzy has been whoring around.  From Denny's death bed to a bathroom floor to destroying George's marriage to Alex on the rebound.

There's more left for George ... than there is for Izzy.

I've said it before.  Writers can do anything.  And I guess we'll just have to wait and see what the next season brings.

In case I get eaten by a bear

Last.fm cares.  That makes me feel good.  Click on image to read the message.

If you're afraid, buy a dog

In most people's lives birthdays eventually lose their luster.  That turn of the calendar page isn't marking exciting milestones as much as it's a reminder of how old you're getting.

I've semi-scoffed at the idea of a quarter life crisis. 13, 16, 18, 21 ... all spiffy.

So it came as a shock when 25 hit me hard.  A quarter century.

Life lesson: never say never.  Don't think it won't happen to you. Cause it will.

Karma?  Power of Thought?  Whatever it is, it gets me every time.

So, last year's birthday marked no other milestone than just how long I've been here.  But it seemed the trigger point for a lot of things that were bubbling up to spill over: work, relationships, family issues, goals, friendship questions.  You name it, it was percolating.

Suddenly these unresolved issues were all I saw in the candles, gifts and cards.  Where previously they would be symbols of celebration, now they were all mocking me.

With perspective, this crisis was more so a panic, like the feeling you get when you're running late and you can't find your keys.  They aren't where you always put them and they also aren't in the next six logical places.  So you're five minutes late with no keys in sight.  You can't even find your spare set.

I wish I could tell you I examined each thing causing me panic and worked my way through them.  I resolved one or two issues, and found two or three more.  Generally have few solutions and more insecurities.  Ah life.

In the on deck circle

I'm copping out.  I'm posting about what I'm not posting.  But, on the upswing I hope to grow some ambition (like I'm growing my nails, that stuff from Avon really does work!) and actually start crack-a-lacking back to the writing.

Brewing in my noggin' currently:
- The NFL Draft (this weekend) I haven't heard much about anything but Stafford but I'll throw my two cents in any way, we can always spill into general NFL -- like KC trading Tony Gonzalas (so, who actually plays there now?) or Kyle Orton and Jay Cutler switching teams ... OR Michael Vick getting out of jail and possibily being reinstated to the league.
- Grey's Anatomy and why Izzy should die.  No, I don't dislike Izzy.  In fact I loved the Izzy & Denny story line (yes, he's dead--but she saw him because she has cancer so don't you feel bad about bitching about the story line now?) I don't respect Katherine Heigel and would rather she leave the show, but I do like Izzy.
- Turning 26 shortly and the cliche that was my quarter life crisis at 25
- Blogs and sites I love, as proof of how I'm entirely addicted the Internet.

And now, it's nearly 10.  And I'm tired.  I'm going to listen to a little music, go to sleep and hope for better things tomorrow.

Good night and happy painting.

I bet I won't be able to wear chopsticks again (darn!)

The first shampooing after a haircut I always use way too much shampoo.  If you already didn't know this about me, I have very thick hair.  So thick that in it's natural state, it takes at least 6-8 hours to dry.  I don't bother with a blow dryer, it barely makes a dent.

When I got my first perm, my head hurt from the weight of the hair and curlers.  The curl only stayed in around a month. Even trying to curl it more than a flip in or out is pointless.  It's so heavy that it will not hold the curl, no matter how much product you try to cement it in place.

The first time I went to my stylist I told her she would have to thin out my hair.  She said yeah, sure we can do that.  She didn't get it.  When the pile of hair was around an inch high and she wasn't even close to done, she finally understood.

I don't so much need a hair cut, but more a trim, style and thinning out.  Afterwards, it's great though ... like, wow this must be what it feels like to have normal hair.

Sadly, I broke two nails today

It's finally warm enough to walk around outside for more than three minutes at a time without risk of frost bite, so this weekend I spent a fair amount of time mingling with Mother Nature.  She, of course, sent me home with a lovely gift of lingering allergies. 

Let me tell you folks, I'm fighting the good fight.  Runny nose, sniffy nose.  Sinus pressure, sneezing, itchy and watery eyes.  ... but I'm also being a baby about it.  I'M MISERABLE!!!  And all I want to do is stay in bed and sleep.  But I don't.

In the epic battle against my allergies I made chicken noodle soup from a Ramen Noodle Pack.  Now this might bring back the old glory days for some, but I hate Ramen Noodles.  In my entire college career I never ate them.  So where does my loathing come from?  It's the "base" my dad uses for his "soup," or more acurately described as "let's throw every leftover from the fridge in a pot of boiling water with Ramen and eat it for like six meals."  I suppose it's just easier to refer to it as "soup" even though it's inaccurate. I refer to it as slop in a bowl, not to be confused with slop on a stick.

So I think I would make my Dad's heart proud to know that I was making Ramen.  Of course, he'd doctor it more (celery and leftover green beans, corn, chicken or turkey (or both), celery salt, extra noodles, rice ... I'm sure I'm leaving something out).  He might also turn his nose up at the garlic and ginger I added.  No, on second thought, he would be less disgusted if I had put a pancake in ... but ginger and garlic?  For shame.

Blink 182's back in the studio, which is really f'ing great.

Ever the Same.

I'm starting to pull out of the March lulls.  Only took nine days into April.  It's official, March is the new February.

I'm suddenly craving a glass of wine.  And I know I have some Sauvigan Blanc chilling in the fridge.  So convenient ... so ready to come out and splash into a glass.  Is 9:46 a bad time to have a glass of wine??

Mmmmm, good decision.

So, I was at Perkins probably three weeks ago.  At the table right across from us was a family.  The grandparents, their three daughters and three grandchildren.  The daughters were taking their parents out for an Anniversary meal.

Throughout the meal I was struck at how very condesending each daughter was towards her parents.  If I were to guess I'd say they were around 80-90, but seemed to be very healthy and high functioning.

First, Big Hair on the end tells her Mom that she doesn't have to eat her bun.  "See, I don't like my bun, I just put it right there.  They give it to you if you want it or not.  So you don't have to eat it Mom."  Of course though I see "Mom" eating her bun later in the meal.  Hadn't Big Hair ever heard of carbo loading?

Then The Middle Child said to her Mom,  "Mom next your fork is a steak knife.  See, you use it like this. Big Hair, Mom was trying to use her fork to cut into her steak."

Halfway through the meal, Big Hair gave her Dad the talk about not eating all his toast.  She must really have something against bread.

I'm sure they were all well intending ... but if I were mom & dad I wouldn't have been amused at the eating lesson.

Because tomorrow's another day

I just stepped outside to put the garbage out and I was struck at how peaceful it was.  The moon is out and high above, shining between two towering pine trees.  The air is crisp, yet comfortable ... assuring me spring is on the way, it's just taking its time.  But what made me pause was how quiet it was.  No crickets or insects yet.  No cars or any other sign of the white noise of life that usually surrounds us.

I appreciate those rare moments where there's harmony and the universe gives you a sign that you're okay, right there in that moment is where you are supposed to be.

Life seems to be going at a million miles per hour and no matter what I do I can't catch up.  With everything.  Work projects, housework, dishes.  Books to read, movies to see, scrapbooks left undone, blog posts left unwritten, the sheer mass of web sites and blogs left unexplored.

No matter how much time there it is, it is never enough.

We went to a conference this winter and heard Paul Wesselmann (The Ripples Project) speak.  He really gave us all a shot in the arm.  He told us to do more tomorrow than what we did today.  Now, in this specific instance he was referring to exercise ... but I think I'm finding harmony applying it to life. 

Didn't get all my clothes put away? Well, I'll put the rest away tomorrow.  Not in the leaving to tomorrow what could be done today sense.  But in the way that there's a finite amount of time--in a day, in a life.

And how we spend that time is our choice---we can choose to react or be depressed or discouraged about what life throws at us.  Or we can choose to act--to be the best person we can be in that moment.

And in this moment ... I feel better knowing that.  Thanks again, Paul!!

White pepper tastes like dill

I haven't mustered up the concentration to write down what I've been mulling over for new posts.

So, I thought in the meantime, I would post some pictures.  (I also have some funny videos of our cats chasing tree branches, but I have to do a little editing or my mom would KILL ME.)

I call this A Study in Supper.

Monday Night: Burger & a Beer

 Tuesday Night: Minestrone 

I think it looks pretty awesome, tasted pretty good too.

(and look at me with my all blue dishes, totally not coordinated to be that way)

My So-Called Snarky Life

Another way to tell if it's too crazy busy at work is an over loaded computer desktop (much like the mess of my physical desktop).  I like keeping a "clean" desktop, so when you start seeing these icons piling up i'm in trouble. Example below--5 1/2 columns deep.  I'm in trouble.  (I love the sunburst wallpaper though)

I got my application done, so now it should settle down a little bit.

I'm not in a place with nothing to do by any means ... just as busy if not more so.  But at least this busy is something that comes more second nature to me ... writing, designing.  Not budgets, stats and explaining call center operations.

It's like one step forward and two steps back

I have been feeling very manic-depressive the past two weeks.  I don't know if it's spring fever, too much on my plate or the fact that the "crazy" inside of me is bubbling up and finally sick of being cooped up in that "normal" shell I try to show.

Even now, I need to vent here, but in the back of my mind I'm thinking about that application I desperately need to work on so i can finish it and polish it.  And God, not to mention the mile long list that I haven't been doing because this and one other big project at work and redesigning the web site and creating an interactive, engaging online presence.  Fuck yeah.

I totally missed my "alarm" this morning.  I woke up at 7:30.  I looked out the window and thought that it was awfully light out.  Man, if only I got up and dressed as fast as I do the days I'm running late I'd have a whole two extra hours in my daily routine.

I miss the days when I was in that old workplace when I still wasn't in the real world.  I was good at what I did.  In fact, I was awesome.  I rocked it out.  Every day.  It was fun, most of the people were supportive and I didn't feel so judged or so much of a loser.

My snow is FINALLY melting.  I love my camera.  I love the sunshine.  Gah gah gah ... :-)  I want cookies or cake ... CRAVING them so desperately.  **trying not to have a Pepsi Twist ....

There was my vent.  Now I must go back to work.

***Ohmmmmm, Ohmmmm*****

Best. Tweet. EVER.

markhoppus Got a birthday card from my dad. "happy 38th birthday. " dude, I'm 37.

Time Flies, and I don't need to endure anymore

This is going to be a random, disjointed post.  No apologies per se, but I felt the obligation to let you know what you were in for.  I just haven't been in that "creative, flowing writing" state of mind of late.

This morning as I drank my coffee and did some adventuring, I listened to Friday's Dan Patrick Show.  I love the On Demand feature.  I can't listen live because I like to catch the last part of Mike & Mike in the Morning, and after that it's so hard to jump in without listening to the first hour.  Most days aren't posted when I'm ready to listen, so I'm usually a day behind.  For awhile I was on a huge music kick so I was quite behind.  But with listening on Thursday, Friday and this morning, I think I'm finally caught up with DP.  Now they need to just get on Twitter and my addiction will come full circle.

I went home on Saturday to visit Mom & Dad.  But Mom will tell you I came home to visit the kitties.  Now don't get me wrong, those furry ones make my day.  Saturday, Benny and I were sitting in the sun on the patio step.  Eventually we both lounged and took a little cat nap.  Awesomeness.  If I could bottle their cuddles and open it when I'm having a tough time I totally would.

A visit is never long enough for my mom.  If it's an hour she wants it to be two.  If it were 12, she would ask for 14.  There is only so much time in the weekend and I'm not on the ball enough to do all my chores during the week to spend the whole weekend over there.

I got a camera, I got a camera, I got a camera, hey hey hey!  It's even purple.  Internet, let the over posting of pictures commence!!

As referenced above, I'm a terrible housekeeper.  I HATE doing dishes.  But the piling up of dishes is getting out of control.  I'm just going to have to grit my teeth and bare it each and every single fucking night.  Yeah.  I'm also not good about putting my clothes away after work (this one goes in streaks though) and I'm very good about piling stuff on the table.  I'm truly a product of my parent's bad habits.  And without the thought of shame or repercussions I let it happen way to easily.  I need to think as though someone is going to pop in at any minute so this kitchen stays a little cleaner.

Sun and 56 degrees, that's what my Internet weather bar says.  I've been out and about, it's warm, but chilly.  And someone in the neighborhood is grilling.  But my snow isn't melting any faster!!!

I've been biting my nails lately.  I usually only do that when I'm anxious.  I didn't realize I was living in a constant state of anxiety (maybe it's those damn dishes).

Random snip of a conversation this weekend ..."So are you going to write about this in your blog now?"  Ha. I just did.

Talented Mr.

I love when I'm in his presence.  How his eyes light up with that sparkle when he sees me.  A quick get over here motion with his fingers, unnoticed by anyone else around him.  "Hey you" and a hug.

I love the compliments--I'm a rockstar and he means it.  He makes me feel worthy, even on the lowest, ugliest day.  He sees me, and knows when something is not right.

I'm a smart ass, but he'll forgive me and give it right back.

The sun shines down on me, as if I were the only person in the room.  But that social butterfly, flits away and leaves me in dark, in the realization there are others here and I'll never get enough time with him.

I get yelled at for popcorn, but pizza is okay?!

I had a bad day.  Like a terrible, horrible, no good, rotten very bad day or somesuch things.

And it's not "little" things that made the day bad, like Oh darn, I forgot my coffee.  Or Oh, shoot I spilled sauce on my shirt.  It's big things.  Very big things.  Work things, but I'm not going to talk about them here.  That's not the point and this is not the place.

But the day ended (thankfully) and I went to get gas because I was at a quarter tank and the weather rumor is that there's an ice storm headed this way (garg) and it's really best not to be running on fumes in such a situation.  As I'm pumping gas I realize that I have to go home and eat my bean soup without french bread that I procrastinated making under the (stupid) assumption that I could do it tonight.

So I decided to pop in, pick up something hot for supper and that's that.  I can have it right away, indulge in something greasy or generally unhealthy and hopefully put this day behind me.  I get inside and there's nothing left, no soup, no pizza, just hamburgers and ugly shriveled hot dogs.  I looked at the take and bake section and then in my head rationalize it's not worth the 6.99 when I have a frozen pizza at home that would take as long if not less for no extra cost.

On my drive out I do a quick peek of whose call I missed while pumping gas.  Aww it's XYZ calling because they knew I had a bad day and they want to cheer me up. Awesome.

I stop to drop off some letters at the mail box.  Stupid people just sitting there and as far as I can tell not doing anything that has to do with mail.  Obsenities withheld (barely, I think).

I get home, something bad happened, got in the house and called XYZ.  They proceeded to tell me ABC and how their day and next week is absolutely ruined.

I feel obligated to them that my sympathy bucket is running awfully low and there would be little to share.  So we comiserate together.

And fancy that ... things still are tough, life still is hard.  But that moment ... didn't feel as bad.

*Blip*

The Obvious: I don't like the "Spring Ahead" aspect of Daylight Savings Time.  Yeah we get "more" sunlight at night.  Really, maybe you should just get up earlier if that's what you want.  Also, when I lived at home I hated that my dad would start changing the clocks on Saturday, at like 3 p.m.  And not all the clocks, only some of them. 

I got dressed in stages this morning.  First the bathrobe and slippers to make coffee.  Then pants.  Finally now at 12:34 a shirt.  I'm a lazy weekend dresser.  If you let me wear my pajama's 24/7, I'd seriously consider it.

I made banana nut biscotti this morning and will make a loaf of French bread this afternoon to go with the bean soup my dad sent home with me.

A Love Affair

I love music.  And when I say love, I mean LOVE.

I cannot artfully make music--play an instrument, write it, read it or sing it.  I think I regaled you about the tale when Tim tried to teach me to play the drums ... and then laughed (nicely) at me when he realized that when he started counting I totally fucked it up.  I think that at the root of it, creating music is too mathematical for me and my brain shuts down.

But I LOVE listening to music. It's one of the things that keeps me energized and can pull me out of my darkest moments.  My parents got me CD player/stereo when I was in my teens.  Nothing fancy, but had speakers that you could set the output.  I'd love messing with the settings to get the best result, but what's more, I loved when the music would completely surround me. I would be engulfed in the notes, the bass and instruments (now some people would call this "loud").

When I worked with my mom at the ungodly hour of 4 a.m., the only thing that got me through was that I was allowed to bring a CD player and listen to my music.  And my mom, the saint, would let me listen to it as loud (with in reason) as I needed to.  Because she knew if she talked to me before I got at least my hour-quota of music in, all she would get is one syllable grunts. (the evil side of me played my harder rock or punk (loudly) when I knew she had a little bit too much to drink the night before--I love how the bells of that one Metallica song would bounce off the walls of the banquet hall.)

I was raised on Disney music and Country music.  I still enjoy the Disney tunes I listened to as a child (and probably could sing you a bar or two of most of the songs).  I never quite got into the country music.  Except I didn't know what that meant.  There were some songs I liked, but the rest really felt empty to me.  When I started riding the "high school" bus in seventh grade they listened to Top 40 radio.  A couple of songs again were pretty good (I discovered Name from the Goo Goo Dolls and later Iris), but I still really wasn't into it.

I think I had my "musical awakening" when I had a disposable income that I could purchase my own CD's.  Instead of having to endure country or Top 40, I could listen to the artists I enjoyed, by  ... get this ... purchasing their CD (or I think in 8th grade, it was still cassettes). My god, a whole 14-20 songs that I liked!!  AND some that I LOVED (that you never even have a chance to hear on the radio).

I find that I still enjoy (and still love) most of the songs I liked in middle school and high school.  I've even been listening to the Spice Girls lately again.  (Ohmigod, I know.  I SHOULD NOT have just admitted that I like the Spice Girls.  But come on, WANNABE makes me smile.  I still remember the first time I heard it.)

Quite frankly, I have to extend a sincere thank you to whoever left off the "Parental Advisory" label from the Blink182 - Enema of the State CD.  Mom knew What's My Age Again and All the Small Things and liked the songs, so I got the go ahead to buy the CD--even with the questionable cover.

Then the next time we went shopping, the CD was on the display/end cap of the aisle.  Of course, with a cover like that, my mom recognized it right away as one I owned.  And noticed the Parental Advisory label. Then proceeded to grill me about if it was there when I purchased the CD.  It wasn't.  We went home and looked at the disc/liner notes--nothing there.  If that label was there when I bought my copy, she would have never let me get it.  And I would have never had the opportunity to love Blink182.

Always the week after a work conference

Internet, I feel sick!  All day today I felt off.  It's either a bad case of heartburn or the cold/flu.  And now that my head is foggy, I think I might place my money on the flu end.

I made ribs last night with a creole rub, and felt the effects immediately.  I didn't think it was going to be an issue because I've been seasoning my creations towards the spicier side lately.  The "heartburn" is so horrible it made me light headed today.  Or maybe that's the flu?  I drank water.  I took tylenol. I drank Dr. Pepper.  Sarah gave me some tums.

Then I felt better.  But at 5 p.m. it was back.  My god.  I feel like if I would throw up (or burp) it would be better.  And, HATE throwing up, so I guess I'm going to suffer or drink more soda (but what waste of Pespi Twist and I refuse to do it!).

I made an Asian Chicken Noodle soup, with chicken, noodles (you don't say?), garlic, ginger, veggies, peppers and lime juice/zest.  Ginger is supposed to help with heartburn and that with the other ingredients, maybe it'll kick the cold/flu out??

Either that or it'll make it worse.  I'm totally screwed.

Just don't let go or you may drown

William's chapter  of That Dark and Winding Road.  Click here to read again how we first met him.

There was nothing remarkable about the day.   No emotional highs or lows.  Just a day, like nearly every other day of the year.

William came home from work, threw his keys, his coat bag and empty dishes from lunch on the kitchen table.  Half the contents of his bag clattered to the floor.  Any other day William might have left them there until the next time he sat at the table.  This time he bent over to pick them up and *BANG* his head connected with the table top.

He bit his tongue, and the taste of blood trickled into his mouth.  William shut his eyes and watched the gold and blue lights dance.  "Shit," he thought.  William stood, to blinding pain in his head.  "Gotta love those instant headaches," he muttered.

He figured nothing helps skull searing pain but hot water, so William turned on the shower and let the room fill with steam.  He stepped in and let the water run down his back.  William could never feel how tense his muscles were until the hot water began to sooth the ache.

Leaning one arm against the wall his head fell nearly to his chest.  Then the tears came. He only cried in the shower.  The running water mixed with his tears and ran down his cheeks.  Here the red flush of his cheeks could be from the water or out pour of emotion, but no one was there to know.  The spraying water and noise of the fans even masked the occasional audible sob.

His knees buckled under him and William found himslef on the floor of the shower.  Still crying.  He laughed between his tears, marveling at the utterly unmanly situation he put himself in.  If the world could see him now.

Not that the world ever saw him anyway.  Just a few days ago he went to the party.  Filled with people he wanted to be.  He tried the art of positive thinking, to picture what he wanted. 

He had a fantastic life in his head.  But his personality always wrecked it from coming through to others though.  And there's a fine line between positive mental pictures and delusions.  He didn't need to add crazy to his loser label.

That label was slapped across his chest like a name tag at the party.  Hello, My Name is William, the Loser, blaring like a siren he knew everyone could hear.

Of course, most of them put up a polite front, not openly mocking him to his face.  A small blessing, he supposed.  But he could see the pity in their eyes.  It made his neck burn with embarassment.

He tried his best to live up to the persona in his head at the party.  He put on that mask--tried to smile and make small talk.  God how he hated the fucking small talk.  He yearned for a conversation.  Something that wasn't that nauseating exchange of pleasantries. 

But when you say, "I've had a really shitty day, the weather is horrible and I could give two fucks about the state of politics in Uganda as reported by the New York Times." If you say that, along with LOSER, they smack the WEIRDO tag on your back.  Right next to socially inept.

He snickered at that sorry sight in his head.  The ladies to his right looked at him and moved a little further away. His shoulders sunk.  Exactly.  He pushed his way towards the bathroom to splash water on his face and regain some composure.  Or at least have a moment of peace. 

Except that the door to the hallway was blocked by Matt and a gaggle of his adoring followers.  He tried not to listen as Matt recounted a hilarous story about his exciting job and how colly he leads his life.  Instead, William watched.  The way Matt used his hands to emphasize the highlights of his story.  So crisp, each beat dead on, the perfect punctuation to each point.

Then Matt pointed, at William?  The group laughed.  William turned away and placed his hands on a table below an ornate mirror.  Trying not to hyperventalate, he focused on breathing deeply.  He looked up with no acknowledgement of his own reflection, and surveyed the room.  From this position he let his heavy mask slip. 

The pain pooled around his mouth, pursing his lips.  Defeat shown in his eyes, but William refused to face it, to actually acknowledge it there.  Instead, he continued to look past himself, observing others without being a part of the group.

That sense of isolation jolted him back to the present, sitting in his shower.  He turned off the water, then leaned back to pull himself up to stand, and his hand grazed his razor.  With pain, fear and humiliation crushing William, he wrapped his fingers around it.

He brought it to his wrist, tracing a line down his arm.  He leaned forward  and looked at the faint red scratch. More pressure ...