Does DIY Matte Nail Polish Work?

Pinterest is a great source for beautiful nail art designs and inspiration for the latest color trends.  I must admit, through browsing Pinterest I've fallen in love with and bought more nail polish in the past year than the past five years combined.

My nail polish hiatus is primarily because .... I simply didn't need it.  I have more than a generous supply.  Reds, pinks, purples, metallics - from the nude to jet black.  But with so much inspiration, I couldn't help but break out the colors and get creative.

There have been a fair number of new trends in nail art lately - swirled designs achieved by magnets and special polish, ombre (that you have to create yourself with patience), stickers (including the whole nail) and jewelry appliances.  The one that struck my interest was matte nails.  Remember back to middle school when you were bored in a certain class and colored on your nails with markers or highlighters   Matte polish creates a similar effect.

I wasn't finding any matte polish in the stores so this pin to create your own caught my eye.

Make Your Own Matte - Pinned from inthiscrazylife-bethany.blogspot.com.

This pin on the original web site came from a collection of tips, and this particular tip was found on a different site all together.  In order to make your own matte nail polish, you simply mix clear nail polish with powder eye shadow.  Just like that - any shade without an extra expense.  Talk about coordinating!  This tip worked - by mixing eye shadow and clear polish/top coat together the result was a matte polish.

However, I wouldn't recommend it.  First, to test it I initially mixed on a paper plate.  After I discovered it worked, for my second shade, I used an old eye shadow container lid. Storage is in issue.  I suppose if you're doing one color as a one shot deal there's no problem.  Come Thursday I had I chip and I wanted to keep the color the same, so I had to remix. I just wasn't properly stocked to store the polish - even enough for re-touches for any length of time.

Second, It takes a lot of clear polish to mix properly and it dries quickly --- and this wasn't even a speedy dry formula!  I never really mastered the ratio and I always had excess, wasting both the clear polish and the shadow.  I even tried mixing the shadow directly in the bottle of clear polish.  This just glopped up the brush and made it hard as cement.

After several tries I gave up, the technique works beautifully, but just wasn't the savvy savings tip I had hoped it could be.

Months later I came across a pin suggesting that I could create matte top coat using cornstarch and clear nail polish. Matte Clear Finish - (Credit: indulgy.com)
  

This technique, I would argue, did not work as expected.  I had  all the same problems with rations, gloppy brushes and sticky receptacles.  Initially it gave the undercoat a matte finish, but as it dried it gained a slight gloss.  I've since bought a matte top coat, which works well, and it leaves nails with a satin finish that is much more matte than the semi-gloss of the cornstarch trick.

My recommendation is if you have patience and don't mind wasting product, go for DIY.  Otherwise just buy matte from the bottle and skip the eye shadow, cornstarch and whatever trick they come up with next.

A television war between the cynics and the saints

Sometimes, I become disheartened with the world or the people around me.  There are so many things that challenge our morals and beliefs.  There's always those "hot button" issues that have extreme sides.  So few of us, in these issues, can come to the middle and say it's not that I'm right and you're wrong, but maybe we both have valid points.   We grow confident when we are the majority, but some shout even louder when very few stand with them.

Our interconnected always plugged in nature only emphasizes the issues, the arguments and sometimes, the hate.  I have to hold my tongue (or fingers) when it comes to reacting to the opinions of the people around me.

Of course, around election time is nearly unbearable.  At one point, I saw an App that claimed to filter your Facebook friends to Red vs. Blue to determine what posts made it to a news feed.  Let me tell you - I seriously considered signing up for it.  And to be honest, I have unfriended or "unsubscribed" from friends solely because of their opposing political view.  I'm not sorry I did it either.

In my 30 Day Music Challenge, I have been listening to older songs in my collection.  I came across "Affirmation" by Savage Garden, which I have already written about here.

And I'm saddened that so many of the issues set forward in 2000 are still unresolved today.  (But on a lighter note - I'm super glad that bleached hair look went out of style.)

The only thing I can hang on to, to get me through the trying times is positive affirmations ... like this song, inspiring quotes or the positive people around me.  And I hope that one day we can work together create a better place where equality and peace are more important than agendas and greed.

In fact, I am told that a lot

I had a hard week.  A couple of reasons that are unavoidable ... weather, the calendar, etc., etc.  I realized that I miss writing for fun.  I don't write as much anymore because it's what I do (in part) for a living.  My brain is so damn tired when I get home that the last thing I want to do is think (and things I don't want to do at night when I get home is a very long list!)

So, I thought I would pick up on the 30 day song challenge that I failed miserably at ... I stalled at Day 24 because life got in the way.  I got a new job and my grandfather died ... but with nearly two years past, I think it's okay that I pick it back up for a "mindless" writing session.

With out further ado:  30 Day Song Challenge - Day 24: A Song that You Want Played at Your Funeral

The song I'm choosing for Day 24 is a sweet, yet melancholy song.  

I don't know what it means that I had to wrack my brain for most of these songs, but I instantly knew the song I wanted played at my funeral.

The Luckiest,  Ben Folds, Rockin the Suburbs, 2001

I go back and forth with this song ... sometimes it feels like a love song, other times it feels like one last gasp from a deathbed.  I suppose, it can be both at the same time.

The rhythm is slow and contemplative   The piano is lonely and hopeful.  This song is a reflection on the good memories and missed opportunities that make up a life of moments that are meant to be.

This song is a lesson that it's the people around you that make a life special, not possessions  accomplishments or money.  Love, family and friends are the things that span all time and space.

Rockin the Suburbs (also a great song you should check out) was released on September 11, 2001.  Wow, way to not be relevant.  But I would contend it makes "The Luckiest" even more meaningful.

Catch up ... Day 23 is here or if you'd like to start from the beginning, try Day 1.

Tie a bow on it - this Pin is a keeper!

I love collecting things, in extreme cases this is called hoarding.  On the internet, it's become Pinterest.  For those who are unaware (and there are a few, you can tell by the "I'm not sure what that word was that you just used was ... but I'll nod my head anyway" looks people give when you refer to it), Pinterest is an online visual bulletin board where you can save, or pin, interesting web pages.

It's essentially your internet bookmark folder for the visual and social world.  Let's face it - Pinterest isn't just fun, it's addicting ... hence the hoarding similarities, I suppose.  The best of Pinterest is finding and collecting useful tips, recipes, pictures and everything else under the sun that you probably would have never found otherwise.  The worst of Pinterest is those same tips, recipes, pictures, etc. that either sit on your boards as a collage rather than a jumping off point or simply don't work.

I really make an effort to routinely look through my pins and try them out.  Now, there are many Pin Fail sites out there, and they are hilarious.  But beyond that you are really taking a stab in the dark if your pin is going to turn into something useful.  So, I decided to start reviewing my pins - and in an effort to be organized, remove them from their original board (as appropriate) and move them to my review board (also to save "offline" rather than forget and repin the same thing a couple of times).

My first review: 25 Ways to Tie a Scarf, pinned 49 weeks ago (this was my first non-repinned pin) from Jezebel.com.

This is a cute video that demonstrates how to artistically tie your decorative (not winter) scarf.  The model is super cute and the video is quirky and fun with great transitions.   The demonstrations are easy to follow and it has great methods.  It's also easy to scroll through the video to find a method you like or to rewind to see the technique again.

In the real world - I would love to know the dimensions of the scarfs she shows.  They seem to be much longer and lighter weight than any I own.  So when I tie my scarves they tend to be bulky around my neck or I simply can't pull it off because I run out of material to do the intricate folds and loops.  My favorite method is The Magic Trick, and I have used around five other ways as well.

I've often come back to this pin to try a new style. And re-watching I want to go out and buy even more scarves to try out the more intricate techniques.  This Pin is a keeper!
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On resolving to not have resolutions

We've launched into a new decade.  (Hooray! May it be a hellvua lot better than the last!) Of course with each new year comes the time honored tradition to mumble the words of old ayng zyne ... and resolve to be better than the year before.

I've always sucked at keeping my resolutions, along with every other person who's spending money on a gym membership they stop using in February (even though the calories from Super Bowl Sunday would really benefit a work out).  My resolutions were never unique, lose weight, be more outgoing, spend more time with friends, etc. etc.

Early in my 20's I realized I couldn't remember what I had resolved to do (or stop doing) by the time Saint Patrick's Day rolled around.  So, I stopped making resolutions.  Why delude myself into changing?

In 2008, I wanted to make a change.  Life is too short to settle, and I was sick of not feeling good about myself.  So, I had one thing I want to make progress in.  I thought long and hard about ways I could make it happen.  I made efforts each day.  And, I really, actually was able to change my habits and attitude.

Last year I did the same thing.  I resolved to not make a resolution, but instead, go green.  I did a fair amount of early research.  I added a couple of green blogs into my RSS feeds and found a range of changes I could make.  From the very easy, to the habit forming ... and though I could do more and I'm not at the level of Al Gore, I'm happy with the change I've made in my lifestyle.

Talking to a friend this year, the inevitable question came up.  My answer was I don't make resolutions, but I have a goal in mind.  And as soon as it left my mouth, I realized I was making a resolution.  Damn!!!

So, I guess I failed that resolution in 2003---to not make resolutions---but I've succeeded following through in the life-changes I've set my eye on.

And here's how I've done it:

1. Do your research.  What's involved in your change? What do you need to accomplish it?
2. Map it out.  What changes can you make right away?  What are actions that will take longer to accomplish?  How can you make it into a habit?
3. What does success look like?  Recognize when you're making progress, then go back to your map in #2 and work towards the next level of progress.

You're not going to succeed if you're not truly interested in making a change.  Maybe some people make resolutions purely to be a part of the tradition--and the tradition of not keeping them.  And that's okay too.

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.

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.

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.

The three things I learned from The Grammys

1. Kenny Chesney is friends with Morgan Freedman
2. Coldplay, though not the heaviest of rock bands, is more like limestone.  A little lighter but just as charming.
3. BLINK182 IS BACK TOGETHER.

And to think I wasn't planning on watching The Grammys. When I heard "Together, the guys from Blink 182, Mark, Tom and Travis."   I thought wow, someone really screwed up that writing.  Then I realized it indeed was the trio, on the same stage, Mark and Tom actually close enough to touch. 

It's the first time I've seen Travis since the plane crash, and I find it oddly-but-fittingly-funny that Travis, the man who almost died and still has his arm in a sling, opened the damn envelope.  (Gotta love the run on sentence)

And what the hell is up with Tom's arm behind his back?  Fingers crossed?

I have mixed feelings.  Blink182 was one of my favorite bands, and I was disappointed I wouldn't get to hear their sound evolve further.  But I also really like the work Mark and Travis did with +44.  Summer 2009 cannot come fast enough.

And a random observation: Kid Rock is an interesting amalgamation, but truly talented.  Through the years I've liked a couple of his songs.  There's no doubt that he puts on a great show.  He has an unique blend of rock and country.  A mix perfected to satisfy rock fans but be tame enough for Top 40 Radio.  He's oddly melodious when he's not rocking hard, rasping about drugs, booze or women.  And to confuse conservatives even more, he's loyal to his hometown of Detroit and madly Patriotic.

BUT WHO THE HELL CARES?!  BLINK 182 IS BACK TOGETHER!!

Glued and captivated

Today I lived history.  There aren't many moments like this in life, and so far my moments haven't been positive.

Al Gore winning, but denied office.  9/11.  Iraq invasion, Saddam's capture. GW winning the second term. Hurricane Katrina.

This election I had the great task of choosing between Hilary Clinton and Barack Obama.  I was leaning towards Hilary.  I knew Obama was a great leader, a rock star.  I knew that when he spoke at the DNC for John Kerry.  I just wasn't sure if this was his time.  I can't tell you the moment I knew he was the one.

Barack Obama inspires people to be better. To create change.  That's an admirable quality.  He's brought passion, determination.  Hope.


I wish I could be that, if only a fraction of it.

November 4 I watched history, sitting in my living room.  Thrilled, overwhelmed.  Today I watched history, sitting in my living room.  Excited, elated.  Ready for the word, to leap, to act, to be better for others.

It's a tough road ahead, no one will deny that.  It's not going to be easy.  But it's a challenge we have to face.

Cheers to President Barack Obama -- if that's not a reason to celebrate with Pepsi Twist ... I don't know what is.

Shave a couple years off my life ...

The universe gave us a little reminder on Friday not to take what we have forgranted.

My Dad went in for a knee replacement.  Nothing urgent, in fact the doctors and nurses teased him he was there by his own free will and was, indeed, asking for it.  Knee surgery ... in our world, the world of kidney transplants, three hip replacements, infections, hospital stays running weeks to months and calls in the middle of the day announcing cardiac arrest ... in that world, knee surgery is pretty mild.

So my family very calmly and almost nonchalantly prepared for the surgery.  Mom and I took off work to be with Dad on the day of the surgery.  They picked me up and we went to the hospital.  We checked in and soon they took Dad to be prepped.  We got to see him and sat and chatted waiting for the doctor to give the final go ahead by ceremonious marking of the body part to be cut on.

He arrived and looked at Dad's leg.  As he was feeling the knee, he stopped and looked at Dad.  "What's this lump?" he asked.  Dad said it was nothing, a bump from something that happened during the summer, it appeared and never went away.  But never got any bigger either.

His doctor shook his head with a frown.  "It feels like a tumor," he said.  He went on to explain that in addition to elective knee surgeries, he removed cancerous tumors ... tumors that were often discovered when people came in for different procedures or scheduled check ups.  "Most of the time bumps bring the tumors out to the surface.  Do you know how stupid it would be for me to cut on your knee with a tumor there?"

I think the bottom of all our stomachs dropped out from under us.  I had to sit down.  Dad put his arm over his eyes.  Tumor.  Cancer.

"What can we do so I can get his surgery today?" my dad asked.

His doctor explained a MRI would show if it was a tumor or something else like a fat pocket or fluid, etc. "But there's little chance they'll be able to fit you in today," he said.

"So do the surgery and we'll deal with the lump later," my dad decided.

His doctor shook his head.  "If I did a biopsy when I was in there today, we still wouldn't know for sure.  Because I could only take part of it and miss more behind or beneath it."

He took out his marker and drew a circle on the bed sheet, coloring one section of the circle.  The part that changes a person's life.

"Let me make a call," he said.  With that he disappeared down the hall.

The nurse hovered at the door ... "Are you okay?" she asked in a whisper.  I can't remember if anyone answered.

We could hear his doctor, who I found out is a neighbor of my parents, give orders to nurses around him.

He came back in.  "Dr. So-and-So is a friend and is able to squeeze you in.  The transport team should get you over now.  Then we'll see what'll happen next."

So they cart my dad away.  A nurse explains we where we can wait and it'll take 45 minutes to an hour to find out.

We run an errand then sit in the waiting room.  Stare at the floor.  Look at magazines.  Watch the clock.  I wipe at tears that keep creeping up to my eyes.  Finally they call our name.

We do our best not to run to the prep room.  And there, they are prepping.  We look to the nearest nurse.  Surgery?  What did the MRI indicate?  "It was just fluid from where he hit his leg.  The OR was held for him.  We're getting ready to take him back."


Well.  That's an hour or so that reduced my life span.  

Our hearts and stomachs settle back to their respective places and we take a deep breath.  Talking and joking like we were before, this time with renewed perspective for the good things in life.  The nurse who hovered previously walked past and said "I see smiles, it must have been good news."  I also hear that sentiment and others like "Fluid from a bump" and "Not cancerous" travel down the hallway to the various staff connected to the surgery.

A nurse steps behind the bed and prepares to push it away, said, "Now's the time for hugs and kisses."  Dad looks at us and gives a quick wave.  "Later."  

We go back to the waiting room, almost giddy, so relieved and ready for the wait ahead, because the hard part was over.

Of course that wait was another five or six hours.  Nothing like spending 12 hours of one day at the hospital.

Plus another 16 over the next two days ...

I'm so, so tired. I forgot just how much it takes out of you. So emotionally drained and overwhelmed at the same time.

Copyright Infringement or Restraining Order?

I would like to go on the record and say the "ShamWow" guy on the commercials creeps me out.  And the women who say "Sham ... WOW!" should be shot.  Seriously.

And, I saw it in Target today.  Same price.  Not sold in stores?  Didn't look like an imitation to me ... and if it was, they should totally sue for copyright infringement. 

"Are you following me camera guy?"   I wonder, were you following your cues and spots scary man?

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.

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.

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.