Brett Favre's Farewell Tour

When Brett Favre finally made his decision I was relieved. Not because he would come back and play for the Packers, I was preparing myself for his departure. I was just glad to have the speculation and bad-mouthing of Brett Favre over. I completely agree he needed to make a decision. The comment he made “there’s still about 120 days left until the season opener” made me cringe. Colin Cowherd from ESPN Radio said Brett was like a woman. “Does this dress make my butt look big? Do I look fat in this? This color or stripes?” – Just pick a damn dress already!

In general everyone took it too far. Brett Favre holding the team hostage? Whatever. I think Ted Thompson has the stones to do everything in his power to make Favre want to leave without telling him to. And in the beginning we thought that’s what he was doing letting Ryan Longwell, Mike Flanagan and crew go.

No they wouldn’t have cut Favre or trade him. It needed to be Favre's decision to avoid riots.

Comparing Favre to Walker. That argument had no credibility. Walker threatened holdout. Walker wouldn’t play because he felt that after one successful year he was worth more money. Walker aired his internal grievances with the media.

Favre was pondering a decision. He wanted to make the best decision for his family, for mind and body and finally, yes … even for the Packers. At this point in his career … does the money make a difference? Not really. He can earn whatever he’s due through the contract through endorsements, book deals, or getting in the business (sports caster, anchor, coach, etc.). He never once made a negative comment against the organization.

So why did they use their first round pick on QB-Aaron Rodgers last year if Favre’s coming back? Just what everyone has been saying it was used for: to draft a future quarterback. No one thought Matt Hasselbeck was anything special. Aaron Brooks, Mark Brunell or any number of the other quarterbacks the Packers have drafted in Favre’s tenure as gunslinger.

I think it’s great that Rodgers is getting another year to sit and learn. As Eli has found out …not all first-round QB’s can win like Payton Manning. An article said Rodgers is losing millions by sitting again this year. Maybe. But what if he takes the experience and knowledge he picks up from two years of Brett Favre to go on and have a successful 15-year career? Will he then look back and regret these two years?

I was pretty nonchalant with the announcement. I opened the last bottle of Californian wine to celebrate, but really I wasn’t as excited as I thought I was going to be.

Until I saw footage from the first minicamp. It brought back that old fire in me to see Favre throwing bullets to the rookies and old favorites. I couldn’t wait for kick off (even without Ryan) when I saw the interaction between Rodgers and Favre. Rodgers grabbed Favre’s helmet and pulled it off by the facemask. Then Favre rolled up his sleeves and showed anyone who was interested his guns. The playful banter between the two reminded me of the three amigos … when we all were carefree and not tainted by the greed and stupidity that comes with success.

Everyone debates what’s the best way for any player to exit: on top, one last stab at glory or injury. I don’t have an answer for that. When I think Steve Young I think of the success, but also the career ending hit that left him motionless on the field for four minutes. When I think of Dan Marino I think of all those average years of the Dolphins, but also the exceptional QB. I don’t remember the score of the last game he played in or their record.

My nugget of advice to the three-time MVP: Make your decision now. Is this your last year? Want to go for another? Tell us. Get the monkey off your back before it starts throwing banana peels. The team, fans, country … and maybe even you … need a year to say goodbye.

This morning, I cut apart a slinky. it was my neon rainbow slinky. I don't remember where or when I got. And true, it wasn't a prized posession. But it was a pretty cool toy. Not everyone had a rainbow slinky.

I was (and would still like to be) a selective toy-sharer. I never had problems when my friends came over. My toys were their toys when we frolicked together in the land of make-believe. I'm sure I had my favorite doll or whatever, but it was usually no-holds-barred playing.

Sharing with my family, on the other hand, is a whole different toy-sharing issue. I always hated our family hosting Thanksgiving ... because people would get into my stuff. And read: when I say "get into" that would always lead to BREAK or LOSE. Note that it wasn't a vendetta against me ... they were like that with everyone's toys. Was I? I duuno. And if I was, cousins, I apologize.

My family, when playing with other people's stuff, is careless, thoughtless, crude and just plain reckless. With this approach, breakage is inevitable. Then they leave the scene of the crime and hope no one notices until everyone is gone.

Games are missing pieces, my Clue game was destroyed (still mad at this), red clay was ground into the *NEW* carpet in the hallway and Barbie doll room, along with many spilled pops and left to their own devices ... Jason and Michael made the wall full of hundreds of tiny holes b/c I didn't supervise them when they were playing darts. My god, I told them to becareful since it was just on the wall ... they were 10 or so, that was a huge mistake.

We figured out a system to combat the toy breakage. Anything in the patio was free range. Barbie doll room was only if I was there and anything of value in my room was put away before the family gathering.

And to put the destruction of my family into perspective for you, I'll map out the disrespect ... My cousin Sara and I were playing with my barbies ... okay so far, so good. She has my new ken doll with the brown hair (rare in those days) and she breaks the head off. It's kind of scary/impressive the detail I remember this in. My eyes got wide, I was shocked....that was my newest doll! She shrugs her shoulders, and shoves the head back on ... (and if you played with barbies at all, you'll know that the shove method rarely fixes it for a long period of time).

She didn't blink an eye, say she was sorry or show any remorse or concern for destroying my toy. This should have been a lesson to me. After all, they say we live as we once played. Nonetheless, tangent adverted ....

Somehow the rules stopped being in effect ... I think it was when I moved to Green Bay. Suddenly anyone could play with my Barbies.

Okay, this sounds silly, trival and something a 22-year-old shouldn't be concerned with ... but I had a substancial Barbie collection... full kitcehen set, grocery store, food, entertainment center, bathtub, nursery and master bedroom. Not to mention the three story house with real carpet, vinal floor and wallpaper. This was something I was going to cherish and give to my children. This was my childhood.

Now little kids are playing with my barbies ... four year olds ... losing things, wrecking things, destroying their beautiful hair ...

Any little kids .. who's not even related just wanders back to the room and starts playing .. without asking! GODDAMMIT STAY OUT OF MY BARBIE DOLL ROOM!

After Jan Carl's little terror wrecked some stuff, mom put away most of clothes, dolls and all the little things. Good.

But really .. it's hard to be the bitch who says you can't play in there ... so I guess I just need to keep putting things away (brief break to put away the two best dolls and more little items).

Now, my nieces are respectful. I love Erika (Happy Birthday, btw), sighing when she walks in and sees a mess. Before she does anything else, she straightens everything out, arranges the furniture nicely, and puts away the little things. Courtney is like that too. They can play. They are welcome to play. Because they aren't going to break anything! They realize .. somehow .. that what they are playing with is special. Joannie's Ashley is the same.

So I sit here, looking at the three barely useable slinky segments. And where was the slinky? Shoved on the top of the house, by one little devil, hoping no one would notice the kinks in the coil that makes the toy un-slinkable.

Starry Night at Boy Meets World

I was feeling nostaglic this afternoon ... or I don't know, inspired.

So I pop in, after some debate, an episode of Boy Meets World. Immediately I remember walking through the Phoenix Club, going to the 4E office and hearing the familiar tones from the tv... and seeing the college guys going crazy and transfixed over this show.

That just makes me laugh. So much.

So this wasn't just any episode. It took my breath away. And I found today that it still does.

It's the episode where Angela and Topanga go to the art musuem to check out the Van Gogh exhibit. (holy crap!)

The previous episode(s) Corey chatted up this girl and they kissed. Needless to say it looked pretty dim for the two love birds.

And then in one shimmering moment in front of Van Gogh's irises there he was. Topanga had ended his baseball career all with one fast ball to the butt.

Ah, but he had found art ... and there he was basking in the glory of brilliance ... Starry Night. (Now kiddos, I know what you're thinking, but I had already had my Van Gogh fan card validated before this night)

Ricky Ferris, played by Jonathan Jackson (aka: General Hospital's Lucky) absolutely took my breath away. I would like to think that it wasn't Jackson that puts butterflies in my stomach but the guy he respresents.

They talked about art and culture and they met in a flippin' museum for godsakes! He took her out to this amazingly quaint French restaurant and then drew her a bouquet of gorgeous flowers.

Just writing about it makes my heart flutter. This guy ... though fictious in this form ... is the guy I want ... he's who I'm searching for. And I'm not settling for Joe on the Street, who doesn't know Starry Night from speckly easter eggs. He needs to make butterflies flutter up and by and around just as Ricky Ferris did.

And until that day ... well I don't know .... I do look forward to that day and every day after it. And though I'm not less of a person until that day he comes ... I am itching to see "Starry Night" in person a little bit more.

I'm also itching to watch Boy Meets World again .... oh how I wished she would choose Ricky!

Topanga: Just tell me what you see in the painting, Cory.
Cory: [peers at Starry Night] I see an attack.
Topanga: An attack?
Cory: An attack from another world.
Topanga: An attack from another world. All right, let's look again. What about the relationship between God and man?
Cory: Oh, okay. I was about to get there. See, God, unhappy with how some particular humans treat other particular humans who love them, has decided it's the end of the world. And I think he's right.
Topanga: God is protecting the people in this little town! They live their lives and they come out of their houses, and they see this sky and they know God's protection and love. And that everything will be all right.
Cory: Listen, how do you expect me to see good in anything when I feel so bad in here?

Smile and shrug it off

I realized this week that I was letting myself get wound too tight. If something went wrong, it would wreck my whole day. I would let the littlest things eat at me, so that I was generally cranky and it ruined my mood before it even hit noon.

Even after time I wouldn't let myself get over it.

So now I've taken a different approach. I fume. I get it out. And I move on. And when I feel myself getting mad about something that happened ... I smile and shrug it off.

My office

So today from basically 8 a.m. to 4:30 p.m. I was filling out a funding application packet for a program I work with. I was going a little batty around noon/fifteen so I decided to take pictures and show you all my wonderful, beautiful (a little messy right now) office.

The messiness shows the complexity of the packet I'm filling out. They're not the best pictures in the world b/c my office is vaguely L shaped and awkward to photograph.

We begin the grand tour with my French message board I made. It displays the materials we've made the current year. Also in this shot is my collage frame with pictures from our San Francisco trip.

Next is the long part of my desk, along my wall of windows, yes five windows, from mid-wall to the ceiling. My view is a field and the highway, but hey, I get natural light so there's no complaining. Here you'll see a box of payroll stuffers I need to deliver, my campaign folders (yes, plural) my coffee pot (essential) and the Target Puppy! I worked hard for him, he deserves a place of honor.


So now we have a look at the rest of my desk. I have my back to the door, which isn't a good fung shui, but not much i can do about it. I have three bulletin boards in my office, a scanner, and plenty of space to spread out and work.

I also have a lot of drawer space for my files. On my right hand side I have the year-round work files and the in-depth campaign planning files. On my left I have inactive files and samples of other work. My bottom drawer I would like to have my picture archive, but the pics need to be organized ... anyone want to be my Intern to do it?


Here's a close up look at my computer and work area. Notice the ducky (from Jenny) and note holder (from Viki). Also my post-it box (from Dawn), starfish (from Michelle) and various inspirational things in my line of vision.

It's an awesome desk, but the tower is under the monitor in a weird compartment thing, and since it's in a corner, the only way to get at the tower is to craw under and pull yourself behind the desk. Unfortunately, my computer is touch, so I'm always losing my mouse or keyboard for no reason. Not to mention it doesn't always pick up my camera when I plug it in. It gets me very dirty and furstrated.


Next is a look at the top of my desk ... which I need to dust sometime. The graduation frame Kerry gave me with our pics from UWGB in. Pictures of my two oldest nieces, a glass with candy in it and my coffee. Above this is the second French memo board I made. This has pictures of my friends and family. It's hard to get at this. But I really should put a couple more pictures in it.

You can see my binders, directories and portfolios. I have a ton of binders that I use frequently. But those three are used almost daily.

The last wall of my office (not pictured) has my printer, a box of stuff I need to go through, a bookcase of binders, cameras and files with newspaper clippings and materials. I have my UWGB banner and the awads I received for journalism and/or leadership from high school throughout college.

So that's my little home. Much more beautiful and wonderful then the hole in the wall I had when I started.

Big Names and Swinging Doors

The trend of the 470 free agent offseason is Big Names trading jerseys. Put away your green No. 8 jersey. Shed a tear and shake your head. Buy your half off Eagles TO jersey for your sarcastic history kicks ... think twice before you invest in his Dallas' blues. Bucs fans rejoin! For you can knock off the dust bunnies and don your best Alstott jersey once again.

Arizona Cardinals sign
Colts RB-Edgerrin James

Baltimore Ravens sign
Denver's RB-Mike Anderson
Resign RB-Jamal Lewis

Carolina Panthers sign
Dallas WR-Keyshawn Johnson (apparently the Big D isn't big enough for the two biggest overinflated egos in the NFL)

Chicago Bears sign
Bucs QB-Brian Griese

Cleveland Browns sign
Seattle's WR-Joe Jurvicus to a four year $10 million deal

Dallas Cowboys
WR-Terrell Owens
Colts' K-Mike Vanderjagt

Detroit Lions
Houston WR-Corey Bradford
QB-Jon Kitna
Packers' LB-Paris Lenon
Cards QB-Josh McCown
Falcons OT-Barry Stokes

Green Bay Packers Sign
Seattle S-Marquand Manuel-- five years, $10 million, $2 million signing bonus
Chiefs WR-Marc Boerigter and DT-Ryan Picket
Tampa Bay's K-Billy Cundiff
Resign
LB-Aaron Kampman
FB-William Henderson
OT-Kevin Barry
DE-Kenny Peterson

Miami Dolphins sign
Vikings QB-Dante Culpepper

Minnesota Vikings sign
K-Ryan Longwell
Philly's QB-Mike McMahon

New Orleans Saints sign
Chargers QB-Drew Brees
Vikings RB-Michael Bennett

New York Giants sign
Redskin's QB-Tim Hasselbeck
Miami's CB-Sam Madison
Detriot's CB-RW McQuarters

New York Jets sign
New England's WR-Tim Dwight
trade for Washington's QB-Patrick Ramsey

Oakland Raiders sign
New Orleans' QB-Aaron Brooks
Pats' CB-Tyrone Poole

Philadelphia Eagles sign
Detriot's QB-Jeff Garcia

Pittsburgh Steelers Sign
Browns' WR-Quincy Morgan
Resign Charlie Batch

St. Louis Rams Sign
Minnesota Vikings S-Corey Chavous
Packers' RB-Tony Fisher
Miami QB-Gus Ferotte

Tampa Bay Buccanneers
Resign FB-Mike Alstott

Tennessee Titans sign
Pats' WR-David Givens

Washington Redskins
New England TE-Christian Feuria
World Champion Steelers' WR-Antuan Randel El

This makes me smile and have some hope

Dear Red States

We're ticked off at the way you've treated California, and we've decided we're leaving. We intend to form our own country, and we're taking the other Blue States with us.

In case you aren't aware, that includes Hawaii, Oregon, Washington, Minnesota, Wisconsin, Michigan, Illinois and all the Northeast. We believe this split will be beneficial to the nation, and especially to the people of the new country of New California.

To sum up briefly: You get Texas, Oklahoma and all the slave states.
We get stem cell research and the best beaches.
We get Elliot Spitzer.
You get Ken Lay.
We get the Statue of Liberty.
You get OpryLand.
We get Intel and Microsoft.
You get WorldCom.
We get Harvard.
You get Ole' Miss.
We get 85 percent of America's venture capital and entrepreneurs.
You get Alabama.
We get two-thirds of the tax revenue, you get to make the red states pay their fair share.

Since our aggregate divorce rate is 22 percent lower than the Christian Coalition's, we get a bunch of happy families. You get a bunch of single moms.

Please be aware that Nuevo California will be pro-choice and antiwar, and we're going to want all our citizens back from Iraq at once. If you need people to fight, ask your evangelicals. They have kids they're apparently willing to send to their deaths for no purpose, and they don't care if you don't show pictures of their children's caskets coming home.

We do wish you success in Iraq, and hope that the WMDs turn up, but we're not willing to spend our resources in Bush's Quagmire.

With the Blue States in hand, we will have firm control of 80 percent of the country's fresh water, more than 90 percent of the pineapple and lettuce, 92 percent of the nation's fresh fruit, 95 percent of America's quality wines (you can serve French wines at state dinners) 90 percent of all cheese, 90 percent of the high tech industry, most of the U.S. low-sulfur coal, all living redwoods, sequoias and condors, all the Ivy and Seven Sister schools, plus Princeton, Harvard, Yale, Stanford, CalTech and MIT.

With the Red States, on the other hand, you will have to cope with 88 percent of all obese Americans (and their projected health carecosts), 92 percent of all U.S. mosquitoes, nearly 100 percent of the tornadoes, 90 percent of the hurricanes, 99 percent of all Southern Baptists, virtually 100 percent of all televangelists, Rush Limbaugh, Bob Jones University, Clemson and the University of Georgia.

We get Hollywood, Broadway and Yosemite, thank you.

Additionally, 38 percent of those in the Red states believe Jonah was actually swallowed by a whale, 62 percent believe life is sacred unless we're discussing the death penalty or gun laws, 44 percent say that evolution is only a theory, 53 percent that Saddam was involved in 9/11 and 61 percent of you crazy bastards believe you are people with higher morals then we lefties.

By the way, we're taking the good pot, too. You can have that dirtweed they grow in Mexico.

Sincerely,

Author Unknown in New California

Bleeding Feet, Beads, Sweet Potato fries ...

I am totally bummed out. Last year at this time, it was Spring Break. And Kerry and I were in San Francisco.

We walked up the lovely bleeding feet hill to Buena Vista Park. Then Kerry wandered further into the park while I enjoyed the view from where I was posted, enjoying my bleeding feet.

Then we wandered to Golden Gate park where we saw people playing soccer, riding bikes, buying drugs, having picnics. We checked out this Art area/studio/Japanese tea house in the middle of the park and Kerry rode the inside merry-go-round.

We killed some time by exploring Haight Street, going into stores, coughing our ways out of others. We couldn't decide on anything to buy Jenny from Postively Haight Street. (And now I wish I bought the lavendar eyemask from another one of the stores closer to the 555 Haight Guesthouse).

At about noon or so was time for the St. Patrick's Day parade! We sat down on Market Street, across from the Opheum theatre. We had our snacks, water and sunblock on hand ... and watch a three or so hour parade. And ... it was awesome.

Except ... I realized the cute little kids beside us were getting all the attention, toys and candy. So then as one "hot" firefighter passed by with beads, I stuck out my hands ... and he motioned me into the street to get them. Score!

After being beaded, and the parade was over we went to the Museum of Modern Art. It was interesting and sometimes fun, but I didn't enjoy it as much as I did the Asian Art Museum. We were both had a little touch of heat exhaustion, so we didn't stay too long.

We ate at Minnie's BBQ (on the Haight) ... where I had the best Texas Ribeye sandwich and most awesome sweet potato fries.


*Sighs*

1.) View from cool gallery thing in the middle of the Park.
2.) Gallery from the ground
3.) Haight-Ashbury
4.) Fire engine from Parade
5.) Clown flashing us
6.) Ghiradelli ... okay, we didn't go there this day ... but I probably gave them over $100 ... we thought a good tagline would be "Heaven on Earth"

*sighs*

What's in a name?

Okay ... I'm going to do some amending on the previous blog, in response to Kevin's comment.

I don't like it when specific people use my name. Weird No. 3 for example. Opens every conversation with "Hey Stacey" it can't be hi, yo, hola, whatcha doing? It's always "Hi Stacey" And when he spells it wrong ... its all I can do not to growl.

My friends tend not to use my name at the drop of the hat--is it that we're so comfortable with each other already? But when they do, it's very special to me. I won't name names (haha) but one friend only says "Good night Stacey" after we've talked from like 7 p.m. to 2 a.m. -- in those hours we bond, laugh and have a good time. Then he ends the convo with that. It makes the conversation and my friendship with him that much more meaningful. It always makes me smile.

Another friend will only use my name when we're arguing. Or he'll use it when I'm really down. Both of these always makes me smile.

This other friend of mine will only use my name when he thanks me ... for helping with homework, listening, etc. And everytime he does it ... it makes me smile.

And a couple of days ago, Kevin said (in away message): Dmx1C: stacey, if you read this, im me or call me immediately, it is a matter of life and death.

And that made me smile ... it was life and death matter after all :-)

Then the next day he said : Dmx1C: hey stacey, i'm gonna go to bed, so have a good day at work. thanks for being a good friend, you always seem to be there when i need you ...

And that made me smile.

But about ten minutes later I got ... "Hey Stacey." And my teeth clenched. Maybe because I don't like this person is the reason it pisses me off so much when he uses my name.

I also don't like when people are trying to get something from me ... "Hi Stacey, what's up?" five seconds later .. by the way, can I ask you a favor? Rar.

So anyway. If you're a friend. Use it. If you're not sure, use Goo ... that's cool too. If you get one word answers from me when you're talking at me ... well you're not smart enough to know I roll my eyes every time you beep at me.

And Kevin ... Change the link back to STACEYS BLOG!!!!!! :-D

Discombobulated Moments

The different brands of weird in this world perplex me, scare me and make in shake my head in one discombobulated moment.

Take weird No. 1:

40+ male who dresses like a 13-year-old and acts like your number one source for information. He is your expert at anything you might want to know.

And by golly aren't you lucky to be in his presence? Hopefully you have time though, he talks INCREDIBLY SLOW. So slow that instead of wanting to kill him to make it end, you would rather take your own life. He gets the simplest things wrong--even after you correct him a million times. He stares at you when you talk and looks like he's going through a dictionary looking for the right thing to say when he's talking.

Oh yeah. He returned to college at 40 + but couldn't finish his second year. He's in the same job that he was in 10 years ago -- and thinks he's king because of it.

Weird No. 2

This 40+ male is a cancer survivor (awe, warm gooey feelings), but he also regularly uses a tanning bed. He has a decent job, probably was once pretty good at it. He has ken-doll hair (read: it never moves, and is styled like Mr. Barbie's hair). He's monotone and expression doesn't change. He's creepiness factor is how needy he is. He finds nice women who won't push him away or tell him off, and latches on as a friend. He's the type of friend who asks why you didn't call, or why when you called you only talked five minutes instead of ten. You have to sit by him when you're in a group setting and god forbid you even talk to anyone else -- or heaven forbid, another man! He's possessive of you and makes you feel guilty if you don't give him 110 percent of your attention. When he doesn't get his way--he pouts--or worse, he uses the power he has in his job and lords it over you ... threatening to do something until you give in.

You've never seen his wife or kids. You have his work phone, cell phone, home phone, cabin phone. He's emailed you at all times of day and night -- so much in fact you wonder how he gets any work done at all. He takes interest in anything you are interested. He sends you cards, flowers, brings you lunch .. and then is offended when you ask him to stop because people might start talking.

Weird No. 3

This one isn't so much weird as annoying. This one is a male, not as old but just as needy. He always wants to talk, but it's never a conversation. It's him saying he doesn't like his life or he's bored or he misses his precious girlfriend who left him. Not once does he ask about you or pick up when you're not feeling happy. He makes irrelevant statements and talks "up" trying to sound smart. The problem is he's not smart enough to know you don't care or to pick up that you're kidding or are bored.

Since I'm randoming ranting ... I'll continue with recent pet peeves.

Don't constantly use my name in conversation. Especially online ... you don't need to say "Hi Stacey" every time we start talking. It's my dialog box, I know you're talking to me. "Real" conversations are okay to use names ... just not at every sentence--it should be a natural flow.

For some reason when online, names are more sacred ... you can open up the convo w/ a screen name: if it's just something you do or if you haven't talked to a person in forever--but not their name.

It always gets my attention when someone uses my name online ... and if they're just doing it ... it kinda ticks me off.

Tell me everything you want me to be

I'm dying to know, but terrfied to ask.

Because at least if I'm not sure there's always that chance.


All the songs I'm digging right now make me cry ... and I don't think it's in a good way.

I saw your face in a crowded place ... and I don't know what to do, cuz I'll never be with you.
But it's time to face the truth ... I'll never be with you.

You were holding me like someone broken, and I couldn't tell you but I'm telling you now.
Just let me hold you while we're falling apart. Just let me hold and we'll both fall down.
Fall on me ... tell me everything you want me to be.
Call on me ... I'll be there for you and you'll be there for me.

You may need me there to carry all of your weight. But you're no burden

You always find a way to keep me right here waiting.
And you're just so independant. You just refuse to bend, so I keep bending until I break.

Sometimes I worry .......

About leaving candles burning while I leave the room

That my computer will start buzzing before I'm done doing whatever I'm doing

Smacking my computer will break it
Since my niece Hailey is so quiet around me she doesn't like me, or that she thinks I favor Erika over her (which I don't!)

My loved ones got into a huge and terrible car accident if they're late
I'm not doing a good job at work
People think since I'm not bubbly that I'm being snobby to them

My Leadership group thinks I'm being too forceful/bitchy/power hungry when I took the lead role in our project

I'm too open with people

That I'm lazy/waste too much time

My beliefs may be fundamentally wrong
My family doesn't see the real me
I gossip too much

The people I trust will turn and take all the information they gleaned from me by pretending to be my friend/confidant and use it against me

My wand will blow up if I use it more than once a day (and it did)
I'm not over it
My social skills will never improve

I don't do enough around the house

Drinking coffee/wine/tea will never allow my teeth to be sparkling white
My short hair cut makes me less feminine

It feels funny when I try to use the 32 on the top row of my keyboard. I think it might be the work of the evil little computer elves that are making my tower hum.

Bowl that's super and not so super colors

This weekend is the Super Bowl... which is always exciting, if only for the commercials. But this year, I'm also pysched for the game. I don't have anything invested in either team, but I have been a fan of Big Ben Roethlisberger since his debut last year. Of course, I support Matt Hasslebeck, but would rather see Holmgren fail. Petty? Maybe. Do I care? Not a chance.

On a totally separate rant: why the hell do some teams have three + jersey colors? What was ever wrong with home and away?

• Falcons: Black, white, red.
• Seahawks: Blue, white, blackish.
• Eagles: Green, white, Greenish-black.
• Bengals: Black, white, orange
• Chargers: Navy blue, white, power blue (who would wear this unless it was a throwback day? Yuck!)
• Bears: Blue, White, Orange
• Ravens: Purple, White, Black
• Giants: Blue, white, Red
• Cardinals: Red, white, White w/red shoulders

I mean, come on!~ Two wasn't enough? What's the point? They use the extra color for home and away, so it kind of takes away from the Home jersey. I could maybe understand if they used it for away to be more intimidating (haha) or to give the team that extra edge. Maybe I would even be satisfied if the teams adopting another color would at least give an explaination other than expanding their wardrobe. But you never hear about why ... only that they're wearing a different one ... if that.



Hey folks, you can get your Terrell Owens Eagles jersey for 49.99 rather than the 74 bucks it was running at.

Calendar Graveyard

Ushering in a new year means many things: watching a giant glass ball drop on people counting backwards in Times Square, writing the wrong date on checks and such for two weeks and wiping the slate clean to embrace new beginnings.

These are all fine traditions, all mystical in their own special way, but my favorite part of ridding myself of December is getting a new calendar. Just think of the all things you get and discard within a year. You go through clothes, office supplies, siginificant others, but the calendar will, without fail, stay with you from January to December.

It's so hard to find good calendars, and that's bizarre because there are so many out there. I can never quickly decide which calendar I am going to share my year with. That's a huge commitment to make--we're talking 365 days of your life--if you are not going to look upon this piece fondly.

Even with the care I take to find the perfect calendar to guide me through the eyar, our journey rarely ends in Calendar Utopia. When December comes to a close and you're laying out your resolutions, instead of sending your calendar to meet its make like Christmas's crumpled wrapping paper--take the calendar from its perch and find a proper new home for it.

Just think, Calendar Utopia, keeping the grid of dates from 2005 or even 2002. It nolonger serves any practical purpose, but to discard it would be a great injustice. I have only reached this state of being, with the Green and Gold Hardbody calendar. Ahhhhh....yes, that was a keeper.

The calendar is a gift that keeps giving. Each month brings a new visual masterpiece to feast upon. My greatest disappointment is when I turn to May 1 and there is a less than satisfactory habitat for my birthday.

The Grinch Who Stole Christmas ... No, Wait--It's still there

This year, Christians are getting all bent out of shape because the "nasty liberals" are stealing Christmas from them. When did we step into a Dr. Seuss book?

They fear a world with proclamations of Happy Holidays.

Have you ever thought about why we say Happy Holidays? It's to be inclusive. Open your minds a little and imagine that four different holidays are celebrated in this general time span. Yes, four. You generally can't tell by looking at a person what their holiday of choice is, so instead of risk offending or simply being wrong you say "Happy Holidays" to wish your neighbor love and good cheer during this joyous season. Hasn't anyone told you god is in your heart? No one can take that from you!

Tell me why is it when your god spreads good will among men and there is song after song of how he loves everyone, in fact I think he was the one who suggested you love your neighbor like yourself, and written documentation he treated the people no one else loved like they were his own. So if you stand by all of this ... and you should because it's in that book you pull out in every other argument ... then why are you not following it?

The point of this time of year is to celebrate--your god, your family, friends ... happiness and cheer. Yes, we can take secularism too far, but I always come back and ponder: What if a religious person other than Christian came to the center of a school, town hall or in the mall and started worshiping his/her god.

What if it's seems foreign to us, and maybe a little scary?

If you would say: Good for them! Freedom of speech! Yay America! Well then I think we should proudly display the Ten Commandments, Koran and any other religious artifact in our courtrooms and schools.

However, I think the reaction would be a little more like: "How dare expose me and my children to that filth! This is America--there is separation of church and state for a reason. And that reason is so I don't have to see what every Tom, Dick and Harry is worshiping tonight."

Everyone is allowed to celebrate however they want. That's why America was founded--and that's why there's a separation of Church and State. It wasn't created to piss you off. It was done so everyone, even if they didn't agree with the majority, could choose to believe what they wanted and live the way they chose. Prayer is not allowed in public school, government and workplaces because it's a peer pressure situation--if I don't follow the group will I be harmed physically? Will I get bad grades? A paycut? Unfair treatment in the eyes of the law?

It's not because we all hate Christians, it's so we don't force an atheist, Hebrew or Muslim to act against his or her heart, just because the people with the loudest voices think their way is the right one.

It's secular--a compromise so no one is hurt. You can still pray, just don't expect me to join you. Choosing to battle over wishing Happy Holidays instead of Merry Christmas or a Holiday vs. Christmas tree is a little petty.

Stop trying to get people to think like you and start living life the way you preach: good will to all, peace on Earth. Come together during this season: all races, religions, sexual orientations and follow whatever doctrine you hold true. Take the part that said we are all loved and for one moment look past the conflicting labels, ideologies and dogma to truly celebrate the goodness of humankind during this holiday (yes, holiday) season.

Take a page from Shakespeare's book, a tree by any other name will smell as piney ... unless of course, it's fake ... but there's a spray to solve that problem.

Five kidneys in second grade

My mom came into my room to tell me we were going to Madison. But the next day was my second grade class pictures. I had my outfit picked out and was really looking forward to them. We can go after tomorrow...can't we? This is important.

But, honey ... remember Daddy needs a new kidney? They found one, it's very special to do that. It doesn't come often, so we have to go tonight. If you want to stay, you have to go by grandma and you'll be away from us for two weeks.

I started to cry. But we packed and headed to grandma's. I cried more. I thought I was being left behind. No, they were just driving us to Madison. It was late and we slept.

I don't remember getting there, and I don't know where we stayed. I do remember sitting waiting for them to tell us everything was okay. They eventually did.

I got a diary from the gift shop. My very first. I don't think mom wanted to buy it ... it probably was expensive. but she got it for me anyway. I had a cough, but didn't want to take the icky medicine, but they made me ... because otherwise they would force me to wear a mask. "You don't want to get your dad, sick right?" -- Is that really the way to tell a kid to take their medicine? --

He did get sick. We were back home. Mom told me Dad got sick again. His kidney wasn't working. They got another one but that didn't work much either. He couldn't come home until they found another one. I hope they do. I hope it works.

We're back in Madison. At one end, the room with windows and the helicopter pad has Ninetendo. I met Holly. She's my friend. We played Super Mario brothers and got to the small castle. Dad got another kidney. This one works.

Mom tells me Holly's going home, her family is all better. I run to the window and see them leaving ... it probably wasn't them.

I remember mom crying. Only that worried me. I can still smell the hospital food and balloons.

It was 15 years ago.

The Morning After ~ Mood: Week 6: With a win, Packers are back on the highlight reels! Week 7: I spoke too soon.

Watching Aaron Brooks I realized that even with Brett Favre’s mistakes he is what legends are made of because he goes 150 percent. Favre always goes for the win, and its not always pretty. Since he’s thinking win, the Packers always have a chance. Under Favre’s gun, there’s the highest of the high and lowest lows, and no one feels it more than No. 4 when there’s an incomplete pass.

Before the Packer win there was much talk of trading Brett Favre. Come on! After what this man has done for the team? Do you want to be the labeled as the franchise who traded a legend? I know the Falcons would be devastated to lose that honor. You live by Favre. You die by Favre. And if that’s not your mantra, your not a very good Packer fan.

Injuries. We learn who we are under adversity. I think its time Packer fans and the team starts learning.

I say call in the reserves. Start dialing Travis Jervey’s number!

Foxsports online is looking for a new Packers head coach…looking in the Northeast. Apparently, Seattle is feeling little love Holmgren. But I don’t know if Wisconsin will welcome him back.

QB-Drew Brees battles for title of most underrated quarterback … probably losing only to Trent Dilfer. Brees, with the help of his receiving core and ground threat LaDanion Tomlinson, has taken the worst team in the league to an actual threat on Sundays. Brees led the Chargers to dethrone the mighty Patriots, benching the epic Tom Brady … and still gets no love.

It’s LT’s town and even when Brees throws for 2TDs and 248 yards. Voted the Comeback Player of 2005, the Chargers' front office waited until the last week to tag Brees, yet they draft high Phillip Rivers and this week brought in AJ Feely. With his contract up again this year, Brees’ location remains uncertain. The Chargers are crazy for not loving him, and the Packers are crazy for not breathing down their necks to pick him up.

"This is all because Keyshawn Johson wrote the book “Give
Me the Damn Ball.” If you complain, you’re going to get the football.”

~ Boomer Eaison,

CBS NFL Today: Week 6

I did something dumb last night ...

I wanted to watch the late night CSI. It was scheduled to be on at 10:35, no big deal, I wouldn't have to make Monday morning an early one.

The time came and Walker was still on. So I waited until 11, then it was News and Chris Matthews ... CSI finally came on at midnight ... I was tired so I went to sleep. The damn show I stayed up for came on .. and i went to sleep--two hours of sleep i'll never get back that I'm feeling right now.

Gah. 16 minutes to exercise, write and adventure. I wanted to be in bed by 9. I guess all that stuff isn't gonna happen.

Oh well. There's always tomorrow.

Stealth

Ponder.

We say we're honest, but are we? white lie here and there to save feelings. Smiling at a joke to be polite, keeping calm when something doesn't go right.

We say good for you and we're happy and proud because that's the right thing to say, but it's really tearing you up inside.

I sometimes wonder what people really think, though I know that would only cause trouble. I'm taken back to instances where if you really said what you felt ... we probably wouldn't have gotten along.

I'll offend you too, and I'm sorry. But the world is polite.

when you fire someone, you let them go because they're performance didn't meet expectations. Not you're lazy and stupid, now get out of my office, bitch!

Would that help?

What would happen if the small talk would be eliminated and we could say you're the person i've been looking for? Is that an illusion best kept in shadows to preserve safe relationships?

You say you can read me only because you know me ... but how can you read my emotions when i don't know what i'm feeling? And why does no one else care that they don't know me? And how shallow do they think I am if they do think they know me?

What if life had five second delay? Oops Janet's nipple, there it is ... *OFFENDED! OFFENDED!* What? NO, it didn't happen.

Tell a joke, no laugh, go back with your delay and you save face. You just shut the microphone off for awhile while Joe blow is swearing off camera.

Two wine glasses and a mountain dew can added to the collection. Where does the time go?

gddgf

If you mix chocolate liqour and coke and let it sit long enough, it will separate so that the chocolate-looking color is on top and the bottom is totally clear.

I feel sort of hazy right now. The day went by and I really didn't do anything special. Adventured in KoL, mowed lawn, cut peppers and of course, watched Angel. Something seems missing though.

Now I'm waiting for something good to come on TV, or debating putting in a DVD. So hard to choose what to watch though.

On the computer desk there is: one espresso cup, martini glass, margarita glass, wine glass and a pepsi can. No I'm not an alcoholic ... I'm just lazy. Alas.

For some reason, I'm missing California a lot right now. I wish I was amongst the golden hills helping vineyards harvest and make wine. ah ... wine.

My legs are achey, which could contribute to the restless feeling.

I hear a dog in my yard...but we don't have a dog

A couple different lines of thought for this one. Stick with my randomness and love me for it anyway.

Today was the Leadership Retreat -- leadership class that's pretty prestigous in the town and taken uber seriously. Note: I'm the youngest one there. 55 percent have children my age, 40 percent have children older than me and 5 percent are at or below five years older than me.

So breakfast through lunch I feel totally out of place when they laugh about their silly 22-year-olds doing silly young adult things while they have the worries and stress of buying homes and remodeling their home or being married or bailing out their silly 22-year-old. (For those who like math, here's one for you ... I was born in 1983)

Right after lunch we did the Meyers-Briggs. The people were rivited, excited and confused all in one bubbly ball. * YAWN * All of this stuff they were doing and laboring to understand was like Phil Clampitt 101. Been there, done that.

Then we went into problem solving--okay, I can go with this, *channels Phil* and I took charge of group of six composed of Mr. I've been married since 1983, Ms. I'm remodeling my house and three others who weren't the overwhelming sterotypes they yapped about for the early part of the day.

Our task was to take charge of relief effort in New Orleans. They start talking...oh the water, oh the sewage and death .... no vision. Bang! I put it in priorities, group the essentials, ask the so what and if it's feasible and ethical and most of Phil's other seven questions.

Time comes to present. I'm and INFJ--Read: Introvert. And what do I do? Go down our Plan of Action and explain implications to the group.

Results: Boring day, didn't have to work, but promising program--this should be the only part that I already had drilled in my head.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Some people drive me crazy with how self-absorbed they are. Now, I admit--I can be pretty clueless, selfish, absorbed and annoying. BUT I TRY NOT TO BE! I'm human--I let others do that here and there and when I catch myself doing the self-absorbed stuff I stop and try to refocus myself.

But others ... simply have no clue. It's all about them, always will be about them and how DARE you try to compare yourself to them because it's not the same and their situation trumps yours. Now, I preversly enjoy knocking the "I'm so great, i'm so great" people down a notch. It's the opposite that is harder to deal with--there's nothing you can say to them!

They don't believe you when you try to positively encourage them and you only fuel their fire when you agree with them.

My cousin Tim emailed me the other day. He got me thinking this. Tim is around 32ish and has been in the Army since he was 18. He has been stationed in Germany, Italy, was in the first gulf war, stationed in Atlanta (during the TJ days) now lives in Arizona, worked throughout the Middle East this Gulf war and slept in Sadam's palaces.

So with all of this, I never really knew Tim. But we bonded during the December '99 Tennessee Oiler game--Reggie White's last game as a Green Bay Packer. I HATE watching football with people. I don't do it. But I could watch it with Tim, we had fun. I think Tim said he never got to watch Packer football b/c of wherever he was stationed. So I started writing updates and summaries of the game for him. And he always appreciated it.

Anyways, I'm not U-RA-RA Army in any sense. I respect those who chose to do it as a career--but I am always suspicious of a military type before I get to know them (if nothing else b/c the most outspoken ones think they're better than the average citizen). Sorry, it's a flaw.

But Tim humbles me. I have so much respect for him, and I'm proud he's my cousin. He emails me to chat about the Packers, asks about me, and always gives a report about what he's doing. And he's usually doing something that will be in the history books and reports it to me with such honesty, graveness and insight. He puts life into perspective.

The Packers are 0-2. So what? People in New Orleans don't have a home and don't know where there future will lead them. I'm not sure if I'm in the right place right now. Well you know what? I have a home, a family and a job. Not everyone can say that.

I am grateful for what I have and all the blessings in my life.

But some people just don't get it.

I had a conversation with some one recently. They were going on and on about the pity that is them. I didn't feel like playing along after I read Tim's email.

Mike said he was sick of his routine--no one would notice if he disappeared.
I said I was cold.
Mike said he was emotionally cold and the world hated him.
I said my toes hurt.
Mike said that he was ugly and would never find a girl and was worthless.
I said I missed watching The Simpsons twice a day.
My life is hopeless, no friends, no woman, there's no point, no god--I wish I would just die.
I said I was hungry. ~ I went and got a snack ~
Mike said fine, he would rid everyone else of their suffering and just kill himself, he's just a void in this world and couldn't stand his ungrateful, uncaring, petty friends anyway.
And with that, he left.

I got back and shrugged. I couldn't say anything to Mike that I hadn't said before. I gave him every sign that I wasn't interested in the poor me act and he didn't get the hint to start a different conversation. Mike has never asked me how my day was or if I like my job. Mike never knows from the tone of my voice, look on my face or manner of my IMs when I'm upset. I could set myself on fire before him and I don't know if he would notice. If he did it would be to tell me I was lucky because I would die soon. I can count the number of "normal" conversations I've had with him on ONE HAND.

God. Get over yourself. We all get down we all lose touch with ourselves.

But it can be so much worse! I'm glad Tim helped me remember how lucky I am.

I'm also glad I have friends who can tell I'm in trouble or upset by the way I IM them. And even though we've been in the same zip code four times they'll have me call them and talk for hours about nothing just so I'm talking to someone and not crying.

We all have our faults. Recognize them and try to overcome them. Love the people who accept you even with them.

The Morning After ~ Mood: Monday Hangover

* Packer Commentary*

No, not literally, but that’s what it looked like the Packers were dealing with on the field Sunday. The team just didn’t look into it. As a Packer fan since ’95, I’m not used to a slow start—but I’m much more optimistic than most fans out there.

Yes, I want my favorite team to win, but the game in general is what brings me back…ah how I’ve evolved. Packer fans have gotten spoiled in the Favre Era. They forgot all the losing before him, or maybe fans are terrified the records of pre-Favre are making a comeback. With the league today good teams change as often as the wind does—a little off season work and a good eye on the waivers, a winning team can be created. Dynasties are fairy tales and dominance often comes from those with nothing else to lose.

With that said, the Packers need to find some way to light a fire under themselves. If they couldn’t do that the day they retired Reggie White’s number with his wife and kids there—I just don’t know.

We’re used to Favrian—miracles with the offense saving the day. It used to be that Brett was always bailing out the defense. This just simply isn’t the case anymore. Brett and the offense can’t afford to make mistakes, hoping the defense will give them a second chance to perform last minute heroics.

That goes for coaching too! Time management has been killing them game after game. They need to feel the urgency when they’re down with 10 minutes into the fourth quarter—not three. Before they would run down the clock so it would be just enough for Brett to score and let the other team try to be the hero.

That usually worked. They’re on to that my friends—and they also know the ball is up for grabs when Favre is coming from behind. Coaching must adjust to the fact that everyone knows the strengths and weaknesses of Favre—and the coaches haven’t adjusted.

I don’t know about the defense. I read today Packers are considered one of worse defenses in the league. I think that’s too harsh, but if being slapped in the face gets them motivated…slap away.

Don’t count them out yet—but don’t let it eat you too much if the loss comes again.

“Brian Bellick—I have a better chance winning the Kentucky Derby on a donkey than you do winning the Super Bowl with Kyle Boller as your starting quarterback,”
~ Shannon Sharpe of CBS NFL Today to Ravens Head Coach

The Morning After ~ Mood: Manic Monday

*Packer Commentary*

0-1 ... they say the Packers lost because of the O-line ...

Okay, so we lost two outstanding guards. It happens, it’s called Free Agency—you’ve been there before—get over it.

So boys and girls, don’t count the Packers out of the hunt because of the stale opener. No, they won’t achieve anything if they continue playing like that. However, defense improved from last year, special teams wasn’t stinking it up like they had previously.

And, despite what Sunday’s commentators say, Favre is surrounded by Pro Bowlers … who earned that right while playing with the Green Bay Packers. Commentators said there’s no one around Brett Favre, he doesn’t know his team anymore. My question: When did Brett Favre leave the Packers? How does he not know his offense? Lets take a look at the stats, shall we?

Pro Bowlers on the starting offense:
Ahman Green
William Henderson
Donald Driver
Bubba Franks


Stats on the guys who haven’t played in Honolulu:
Robert Ferguson: season ended last year after blow to the head—The Packers are 7-1 when Ferguson has a touchdown
Chad Clifton: the only player to play every snap from scrimmage for his position during 2003-2004
Kevin Berry: was part of the rotating guards when there were injuries, key blocker
David Martin, Najeh Davenport, Tony Fisher: all have gotten regular snaps, but have been limited with serious injuries—yet un-plagued this year and ready to roll.

Here’s what they need to cover when they head into meetings:

• Stop those Penalties! They were flagged 14 times for 100 yards. The offense was hit for five offenses, special teams once, and defense eight—four coming from Carroll.
• Get fired up beyond Favre—he’s great, everyone knows it—but the team needs more intensity beyond Brett, and it hasn’t been there since Reggie White left the team in 1999.
• Wide receivers need to complete their routes, complete their plays. You’re not giving enough unless you’re going until the whistle blows.
• Everyone needs to improve their conditioning.
• Tight ends need to step up: with a depleted receiving core, Bubba and the gang have to take more snaps, make the catch and follow through.
• Hit the Waivers and get some tried and true wide receivers—and get rid of Antonio Chatman. He drops the balls from Brett and hesitates too much on returns. People seem to forget the year the Packers won the Super Bowl they went with Andre Rison (mid-season pick up-waivers), Don Beebe (not a superstar by any means), Antonio Freeman (injured during most of the season)
  
  

  The allure of the season opener is that
  everyone is undefeated, everyone has a chance at the Super Bowl …

Thank goodness for Family Guy

Watching the Sunday early show, they showed the world sickened and appalled that the "greatest superpower" couldn't help its own citizens. We rushed to the tsuami vicitims, but will not do the same for our own.

During this week, I wondered where the other countries were. The slightest sneeze any where else, the USA is there. We give our dollars, our military and everything else they need. This is tsuami quality--where are they? But I saw on the news today, 50 countries have offered help. 50! They are standing by waiting for the government to give the go ahead.

We don't deserve the title of superpower, I don't want it. Of course, don't blame all of America. Blame the government! IF you can't get your act together to help these people--let everyone else waiting in the wings to step in and get the job done. There's a lot of rebuilding and recovery to do.

The world is laughing at us. And I laugh with them, only in a sick way...wondering where I should call my new home if things get any worse.

When Bush was re-elected, we said, it's okay...only four years--if we make it that far. And that truly is the case. No, Bush didn't cause the hurricane or the levies to fail. But he has the power to get every means available to New Orleans to help these people. But he didn't.

Also didn't visit the hardest hit area. But he visited his pet project, Iraq.

Yeah...Iraq...we're getting stuff done there too.

Yet, the country is outraged. About Gas. About Iraq. About Hurricane Katrina Aftermath.

Really, it should only be 49 percent of the country outraged. Us liberal democratic folks.

The rest of you elected this Urban Cowboy. You sent your sons and daughters there. You sent ours there as well.

You're shocked that you're paying $3+ for gas. You're also donating your dollars to the American Red Cross...only with the immediate on your mind--like when you elected your very own American Terrorist.

This is what you got. And it's only going to get worse, I'm afraid.

He is not capable of being a leader of the people--he has his agenda only on his mind .... and as William Rinquist passing away....he'll leave his ugly conservative mark on us for years to come.

Just remember, unless you're in the top one percent...he doesn't care about you. He doesn't even know you're there...unless of course, it was near voting time. Even then he did just enough to get by. AND YOU WERE DUMB ENOUGH TO BELIEVE HIM!

No wonder the world is laughing at you!

My only hope is we can recover from these four years of darkness.

To Push or Pull, that is the question

I'm having issues with doors. One would think, with such a simple device, there would be a standard. A couple of weeks ago I was dropping stuff off in this very corporate building. Glass and shiny it was very harsh and an unwelcoming environment. When I was ready to leave, I couldn't get out. I didn't know whether i was being dumb or if the Big Brother world had me. I didn't know if alarms or security would be notified if I kept pulling on the door. Finally, swallowing my pride, i picked up the lobby phone and dialed the receptionist...or whoever... number. It was a little bit of both, I entered/wanted to leave too close together, something with the door's latching system didn't turn off, plus it was a push not pull. I went back to this place this week. A woman who worked there came in from lunch...and couldn't get the door open. She was pushing it (we were on the outside) I was thinking...pull. She called the desk. They were doing a latch test (or whatever) and they were locked. Plus she was pushing instead of pulling.

So yeah. why can't anyone decide. Outside push, inside pull or visa versa. Come on people. Stop playing with viagra or rogaine. Figure out a door system! (Or cure cancer and the like)

Its an unfair assumption that anyone buying body jewerly likes skulls, goth and heavy metal. Nothing wrong with the people who do. But why can't a person buy tasteful body jewerly without giving their credit card number to a total unknown entity? And Why the hell would you put something pointy in a wound in your body? And the plugs in general creep me out.

I need to get my fantasy teams in order. I drafted them and then nothing. I need to pick up the lesser known players that'll pull in the stats. Unfortunately, with all of the Fantasy Draft programs on nowadays, more people know these lesser knowns--without doing the homework themselves :-/

mmm chocolate

I haven't blogged in such a long time, so I figured I would stop by even though I didn't have a consistant string of anything to say.

I had somewhat of a life tonight, I went to the Fall Staff picnic (or whatever it's officially called) at Andy's house, the Dean of the college I went to. Michelle invited me and I'm glad I went. It actually was a lot of fun. Now I only have a quasi-life because everyone there was probably 20 years older than me. But nonetheless these people are my friends and it was good just to be there to do something other than go home after work.

What else? I really need to dye my hair it again ... it's three different colors. My natural color, blond from the sun and the faded auburn.

I went to town with Goodwill yesterday. I bought an awesome wine glass--great for swirling, Napa Valley quality. A smurf glass...Kerry might have it, but I still think we should double check in case it's different from the other Baker Smurf she has. And today I bought some comfy suede pseudo-ballet flats that are sparkily to wear around work when I don't feel like actually wearing shoes.

My room gets so messy. I don't know what my problem is. Probably that I flop down after work and don't want to clean it until the weekend.


My knee hurts. Stupid Lymes Disease.

Llama. Guinness.

Shiny.

Sdo out.

Space Monkeys

*** Warning, Warning ... This is a positive post! ***

I was able to do something I've always enjoyed but really haven't had the opportunity to indulge in lately. I finished two books in two days. Ahh, the rush of a good book, how I missed thee. Slowly I enter the world I used to know: casual reading. No more taking notes, learning terms, worrying that each miniscule detail will haunt me later on a midterm or final.

But nonetheless...This isn't what this entry is about.

As I was mowing lawn, I took the opportunity to reflect on the uneasy feeling I have been immersed in. It came down to being disappointed that I had to settle into the "rest of my life" and I was frustrated because I wasn't where I wanted to be at this point. (then a light bulb clicked on saying that i didn't have to! 22! This isn't a stagnent part of my life)

Athletes, actors ... Famous people ... say they always knew they were destined for greatness. I never knew that, quite the opposite. I knew that if I was to have anything at all, I needed to work and fight for it. And it this point ... I lost the will to fight.

I don't know how it happened, I settled into a mindset that circumstances commanded this was all I got. I had no control.

I had no further goals, no ambitions. What was the point? This was it.

It was best materialized and visable when I was looking at magazines sadly--checking out the "managing your time," "asking for the raise," "health issues you should know." No fun stuff. Then I was watching kids at our golf event, they were so cute and having such simple fun. And I couldn't relate. I couldn't remember how to feel that way. That realization gave me such pangs. I never wanted to lose the childish spirit.

Mowing lawn, it came to me.

I lost focus--the problem wasn't that I was stuck and there weren't any goals or opportunities left for me. I was creating my own anguish. I was so worried about all of the stuff I didn't have and couldn't control. I questioned every decision I made and beat myself up for every wasted moment. I lost focus, I lost my path to greatness.

The dangerous part of the daily grind is that numbing lull in the path. It distracts you from yourself, hides your path even though you are steps away from it. It kept me unsettled. Distracted me so I couldn't find a routine that would give stability as I continued my journey.

My chest tightened. I can't recall many times before that I felt evil so close.

This is either lofty thinking or totally unoriginal. But it is real to me.

I read Fight Club yesterday--maybe that's why it clicked. Last year, I watched the movie with my mom. After declaring it was fucked up, I told her how much I could relate. She looked worried.

There are many truths there though.

You always here about near death experiences (near life in the book) and how it wakes people up from the droning hell of their life--but the point of a near LIFE experience is to shake the drone by actually living--a quaint concept, really.

Sometimes their realizations scare me with the statement of greatness and all...But when you're asked what you want to be when you grow up, its something larger than life ... And from grade school on it's just one big reality crashing disappointment.

But what it comes done to is being true to yourself, staying on the path, controlling your destiny. Not sitting back, internalizing the condeming lull, letting Tyler Durden take control. I was letting my internal Tyler tell me I was a space monkey, shot out to do the bidding of the Gods who didn't care about my safe return.

I am NOT a space monkey! And I kicked my Tyler out, I'm sure he found a nice comfy corner in the back of my mind to settle in for a day when i'm feeling low. But he's not going to be popping up making soap right now.


...

"It's only after you've lost everything that you're free to do anything."


"We are the middle children of history, raised by television to believe that someday we'll be millionaires and movie stars and rock stars, but we won't. And we're just learning this fact."


"We don't have a great war in our generation, or a great depression, but we do, we have a great war of the spirit. We have a revolution against culture. The great depression is our lives. We have a spiritual depression."

...

all from mowing the lawn.

Travis Jervey Quest Continues ...

I got this email today ...

Hi Stacey... somehow i ran across your article online about the search for your very own Travis Jervey jersey.. i was just wondering, since it has been a few years, did you ever get your own jersey?

Obviously by my screen name (it was a combination of jrvy 32) you can tell i am a fan also!

Thanks, Sara W

For those of you who haven't had the pleasure of the obsession, or need a refresher ... here's the article I wrote that she's referring to:

As printed in "Insight," December 2002
Blurring the Edges: Questing for a Travis Jervey

As the holiday season approaches, instead of visions of sugarplums dancing through my head, I have visions of Travis Jervey jerseys.

I have been on a quest for a Travis Jervey jersey since 1998. Travis Jervey, affectionately known as T.J., was a back-up running back and special teams star for the Green Bay Packers. I was first acquainted with T.J. in 1998 preseason, during “The American Bowl” in Japan. Since it was played on the other side of the world, this game started at 11 p.m. The first-string players were done playing by 11:30 and I needed to find a way to stay awake.

T.J. caught my eye, and so the obsession begins. My story of obsession is a long, sad one that only seems to intensify with time. Friends first meeting me know initially about T.J., but do not fully realize the immense depth of my passion. Even I sometimes question this passion. There are plenty of players who are now superstars I probably should have picked that night. I am attracted to the obscure as a way to be unique. I just hope once I get the T.J. jersey I am equally enthusiastic as I am now.

Into the 1998 season, Dorsey Levens broke his ankle and eventually T.J. got the starting role. T.J. getting more playing time and recognition thrilled me. He got his first NFL touchdown Nov. 1, 1998. I still remember the details of the afternoon. Before the ink on the Travis Jervey trading cards could dry, he broke his ankle the next week against the Pittsburgh Steelers. I remember the details of that day all too clearly.

I suppose Santa did not bring me my T.J. jersey that year because he thought football or T.J. might be a passing phase. He did not want the elves to labor away on such an extravagant gift if it was not going to be appreciated.

Too bad Santa was not clairvoyant. T.J. signed with the San Francisco 49ers Mar. 22, 1999, and four years later, I am still obsessed with him and crave the jersey even though T.J. has traveled about the NFL and now rests with the Atlanta Falcons. The quest for a T.J. jersey has such a hold over me that a little part of me has begun to dread the holidays and birthdays. It started with clothes boxes, giving me hope that it might hold the jersey. Maybe this will be it, I think. Everything rational in me is saying it is not my T.J. jersey, but I cannot help but hope. It is always in the back of my mind.

As time passes I see the likelihood of getting my jersey fade. Now I am even hopeful for boxes other than those meant clothes. I rationalize that Mom put it in an odd box to throw me off track. I realized I had a problem when I was seriously considering how she could have folded the jersey to fit in a ring box.

My mom has been sneaky lately, plotting with people she does not usually plot with. My heart leaps, but my mind pulls me back, as to not get my hopes up. Will this be my year? Will my quest for the elusive Travis Jervey jersey be fulfilled?

Thought of the Moment: “Learning to ignore things is one of the great paths to inner peace.” ~ Robert J. Sawyer

Pictures: The Man. And the Jersey. :-)

KoL Dream

You have an incredibly vivid dream in which you're a butterfly, flitting about in the breeze. When you wake up, you aren't quite sure whether you're an adventurer that dreamt of being a butterfly, or a butterfly that's dreaming of being an adventurer.
You do feel an overwhelming urge to pollinate something, though.

Sideways Under the Tuscan Sun

Taking a page out of Apryll's book--I know I will never have the flair, vocabulary or style of Miss Apryll's brilliant reviews, but here are my thoughts on a couple of movies I have recently seen.

"Under the Tuscan Sun" would have worked better as a novel than a movie. This makes me nervous because it was very loosely adapted from a novel of the same name ... and until I read the book, I am assuming the villa is the only character that is remotely similar.

The first scene was a very poor set up, a student's book release? It had me wondering how that guy fit in the story ... and why he was so attached to her. The way she found out about her husband could be some form of poetic justice, but really was just awkward.

Talk about awkward ... what is with falling on the floor during the first scene at divorce hotel? I mean, come on, who does that? She just dropped, no warning, no effort to lessen the impact. Yeah right.

Still in the early stages of the movie, she is ambling very poetically about town during the tour. She sits and scribes a postcard for a fellow travel-mate. It is very beautiful, and what one hopes to experience engulfed in the romanticism of Italy. But reading the finished product, the postcard's owner scoffs "even tastes like purple" as a bunch of fluffy crap. This moment is a huge scene killer. They so carefully brought us into the feeling of this place, making the atmosphere a complex character but then completely broke the trance. What I would have pointed out to him is he was complaining about writing the postcard, she did you a favor, send the damn thing anyways.

Throughout the film, the character Frances was developing in all the wrong ways, which, I suppose, mirrors life. She was starting new in so many ways: moves to another country, she doesn't speak the native language, buys a rundown house, has no friends in the same time zone. But it always comes back to the same thing ... she is recently divorced. This is the only thing she is fighting for. Man after random man, she is seeking someone to fill a void. I guess the journey of her tale shows there are other more important voids she needs to seek, and after she completes these aspects of her being, life falls into place. I guess I just expect more from her, and this mind set disappoints me.

Another disappointing moment was the time lapse when they kissed on the beach. Geeze.

There were some points of the movie I felt could have gone another way. I would never want Pawel to die, but during the flag throwing ceremony (celebration?) after the flag plummets and comes crashing down directly on his head, he pops up with only a bump. Talk about anticlimactic. If he would have died, it would have given me something to feel instead of rolling my eyes. Of course, then that would have negated the ending (wedding in the yard) and moments of truth (claiming him as her family) along the way. *Sighs* Okay.

How about the matter of the crazy blond woman? I was convinced she was a figment of Frances's imagination until the fountain scene. But there's a twist! This carefree, oblivious woman seemed like everything Frances yearned to be. It would have worked if she was only real in the mind of Frances. She inspired Frances ... big things happened after their encounters. A brilliant move would have been to have the audience think she was real, but then reveal at the fountain that she was Frances's surpressed side. Her moment of clarity could be as Martini pulls her out of the fountain. And we see that it is Frances wet and broken and not the blond. ... but that might lead people to think that she was crazy ...

There were some good, even beautiful, moments in the movie. I enjoyed when the line she gave when the baby was born...giving the baby to the light, but since I can't remember the quote it sounds like the making of a horror story.

When the house was completed and the Polish workers unveiled the wall it was a very artistic moment. It was touching, and the movie clicked. The wedding was a good way to end the movie as well, but not because of young love. Frances was shown that her dreams came true, just not the way she intended. And then, when all the pieces had fallen into their rightful place, exhausted from trying to make life happen, she laid down, and there was the ladybug ... and someone to share her life with.

Oddly enough, I enjoyed the movie more when I watched the commentary--because I didn't have to hear the cheesy lines, but enjoy the essence of the movie, the Italian scenery.

Another wine indulgence -- movie -- that had my taste buds salivating was "Sideways." During our wine tour in Napa and Sonoma Valley, every winery mentioned it. It was marketed as an embodiment of their lives. I was looking forward to the California scenery and wine insight, taking me back to that perfect day, but all I got was a week-long bachelor party with two people attending. I was horribly disappointed. I guess I built it up too much in my head. Compared to this movie, "Under the Tuscan Sun" was brilliant.

The "Sideways" commentary was no better. They were pretencious, using big words and then commenting on their brilliant vocabulary. There was a lapse of insight here and there, but soon marred by ogling women.

My frolicking through the wine world of California ... From Top (Left to Right) Wine Tour: Statue at Viansa (Sonoma Valley), a great way to start the day. Viansa barrels. The other side of ViansaNew sprouts on the Viansa vines. Lamar, the Canadian wine expert at Kirkland Ranch (Napa Valley). View of the Valley from Kirkland's terrace. If you look closeyly you can see the cars lined up to go home. It's a two hour drive in the morning and night to commute. It's too expensive to live there, so they make the daily trek that in low traffic times takes 45 minutes at the most.

Why KoL makes me smile

As you enter Whitey's Grove, you encounter something very disturbing. A group of people is sitting around a table laden with wine. Instead of drinking the wine, however, they repeatedly take sips and then spit them into a bucket. Between sips, they use words that are too pretentious for you to understand, and laugh smugly.
Enraged by this waste of perfectly good alcohol, you spring into action. Which is to say that you hit the people until they leave, and then take the remaining wine.

--------
You dream you're running through the basement of Cobb's Knob. You enter the boiler room and get jumped by some freaky dude in a striped sweater and jaunty f3d0r4. He's wearing a glove with five razor-sharp pasta spoons strapped to it! He slashes at you and you wake up screaming... but it was only a dream. Or ... was it?

So Now What?

I am in the "So now what" stage. At least, that is what I've deemed it.

It is no longer a meantime, if for no other reason, but simply because I cannot identify what I am between.

For years ... since eighth grade if you want to nail down a particular point in time, I have been pursuing this goal. Therefore, I've always sort of had a "built in" goal.

Middle school, high school: my goal was to get good grades, graduate high in the class, get scholarships, go to college.

College (year 1-2): get good grades, make an impact on campus, transfer

College (year 3-4): get good grades, make the transfer student recognized on campus, graduate with high honors

From that point, my goal was to get a job in the field of communications...one that I would make an impact in the community and have opportunity to work my way up the ladder.

Well...so I did it. Graduated from high school, loved the 2-year college, made a splash as a transfer student, fought for my high honors and graduated with a Bachelors degree. Then I got a job as a public relations coordinator (even thought that's not the title, but Colleen told us it wouldn't be the title). I am in an influential company in the community--an organization all around the country if I wanted to stay there and move around within the system (which I don't think I do). I'm attending all of the important meetings and the founding member of a young professionals service club.

So, now what? I don't have any goals! I don't know what to make a goal...besides learning my job. And I know everyone has gone through this, but the problem is, no one has told me how they did.

I'm not the type of person to sit back and wait out the storm. I like taking action. I like learning the patterns and applying them to my situation. I follow in the footsteps of those who have gone before me. I need an instruction manual. That's what I'm looking for. I have found my answers in books, so give me that. And don't tell me it doesn't exist. If everyone has gone through this before me, then someone should have been smart enough to write it down. Why are they making us figure it out for ourselves for the first time all over again? You wouldn't let your child touch fire if they didn't know it was dangerous. You don't let them drink poison just so they will learn that it's deadly for themselves. So why are you making us suffer in this instance?

Tangent. :-p

But anyways, So ... now what?

I'm never going outside again.

Yesterday I was accident prone. Well, they weren't really accidents, more like, forces of nature.

It started out fine. We were spreading pellets in the pond to take away the green stuff. Then just wandering around back there. It's so beautiful--my own magical place.

Well, the magic was flowing ... or something, because I saw this huge frog, it caught my eye not the hugeness of him, but the tealness of his head. Yes. A frog. With a teal head. Seriously.


So, I caught him to gawk. Unfortunately, I think he cast his evil mojo voodoo on me.

We were looking at my mint, and mom asked me to pull a weed by her flowers. OUCH! Fire weed.

The plant bit me. STACEY--O EVIL NATURE--1

Next, in the back garden spraying the weeds, walking through posion, almost done, and DAMMIT! Thistle?

No, bee sting. STACEY--O EVIL NATURE--2

Okay, I can't take much more of this. I'll walk down to the pond, don't remember why, but I'll be careful.

Watching my step, la la la, look up. YOWEE!

Thistle~! (what are the chances of that?)

STACEY--0 EVIL NATURE--3

Clean sweep. I give up.

Top left: Here's a piece of nature, that wasn't evil to me.
This ws a plant on Alcatraz Island. The funny thing
is, we have this plant by our pond. This was as big
as my head. Ours is as big as my foot.

Road Rage, KoL

I have been experiencing quite a bit of road rage lately. Maybe it's because I drive 37 miles everyday.

Maybe it's because I have to take six roads to work instead of three. Because it does, of course, make sense to rip up all the main roads to and from the closest town.

Or MAYBE it's because the people driving on these detours are driving 45! Come ON people! Speed limit...at least reach it. Then I won't be as pissed when I need to pass you.

In town, it's just as bad. The left and right lanes are driving the same speed...about five miles under the speed limit. I respect people who drive the speed limit...hell, I sometimes do it myself. But if you're going to partake in such activities, let the less patient people wander on at their own pace. Stop being so controlling you evil crawling bastards.

Today, I celebrate my one month anniversary at work. No one notices.

I adventure deeper and deeper in the kingdom of loathing. Totally hooked. Thanx Tim ;-)

Stay on the melon truck and keep driving!

Remember when I told you about Corporate Communications? This was the class with the Crisis Case (i.e. high stress, real-time work) we rocked the presentation and got a 98 on the paper. For the previous case we had one more group member. He was a nontraditional student that asked Kerry to be in our group. Now, we had reservations, not because he was a nontrad, but that he didn't seem to catch on as quick as others. Well, he never caught on...he sent us tons of emails with random information, never took the information to knowledge we could use, made an incomplete powerpoint that we needed to redo the day before and never sent me his sources or writen part of the paper (not to mention that the day of the presentation he didn't run the powerpoint right).

Anyway, with the stressful second case, we asked him to leave the group. It was hard and we felt bad. Our professor understood. He responded with a couple of emails the first two weeks after saying we were petty and a bunch of little girls playing high school games. Then he left us alone. Unfortunately, he had some residual anger, and took it out on Kerry ... below is the email he just sent to her (poor kerry).

It's amusing in a bizarre sort of way. Thought you would be interested/astonished, etc.

Sdo



This message is from Mark. This message is late, but youare going to get it any way. Normally, I'm a pretty good judge ofcharacter, but I was quite wrong about you. The reason I asked to workwith you in that corporate communications course was because I thoughtthat you had a kind heart and enjoyed working with new people. Youturned out to be quite the opposite. I respect people who have intelligence and work hard, as you do,but have a higher respect for people who treat one another withdignity. That is a category that you fall short in.

My wife has moreeducation that you will ever live to have and enjoys being aphysician. I didn't marry her because she draws a good income orbecause she is so intelligent. I'm with her because she is a kind,loving woman who has passion for the people she deals with. I'm old enough to be your father, and have a lot more experience inliving than you do. You need to realize that you shouldn't shut thedoor on people so quickly. I worked with another group of people inanother course on campus, and enjoyed that experience because wetalked to one another if we weren't on the same page. However, theywere in their 30's and had a higher maturity level than you and yourgroup members do. Someday you'll realize how wrong you were in makinga decision like the one you made last spring.

I didn't leave your group because you felt that I wasn't holdingup my end. I left because I felt that I shouldn't have to prove myselfto a bunch of kids. I didn't fall off the melon truck, and have plentyof "street smarts". You don't know the true meaning of the word"RESPECT" yet, and you may never will unless you change your attitude.I don't want to hurt your feelings and want you to succeed, but thinkthat it may help it you integrated more humility in your dailythinking routine. ----Mark

Today, the Llamas Returned

The llama tale began four years ago. A simple word. Random animal. Inside joke with the nice side effect of driving me crazy. Soon, however, I was hooked, and somehow, I was able to snare multiple others.

Last year, llama farms seemed to pop all over in the area. Two within five miles of where I live.

Random people would tell me that they drove past llama farms all the time.

Why all of a sudden are there llamas in Wisconsin?

Oh well. Not complaining.

But "my" llamas (the ones that live right down the road from me) went away for the winter.

I don't know where they went, but once it snowed, the llamas went bye bye.

So we figured the llamas would come back once it got warm. We first noticed them last year around April. April came this year and no llamas. May, no llamas. By now I was threatening to hurt the people if they harmed those wonderful, graceful, majestic llamas.

But, the llamas finally returned.

So I'm happy.

In the meantime...

I totally pysched myself out for the real world. I couldn't sleep the night before. The whole day at the office I had a headache and felt like I was going to throw up.

Today, at Day 3, I am still keenly aware of all the stuff I don't know. But I feel some relief, and look forward to the day when it will all be familiar.

I just need to keep turning to my sources of constant support, and have them remind me why I'm at this point in the first place.

It will improve...but in the meantime it's awefully scarey.

Just like meantimes usually are.

Tomorrow I start work.

I'm terrified. I'm terrified for tomorrow, the next day, two years from now ... it's the real world. Bills, insurance, total and utter responsibility for myself. I don't have a boyfriend and I'm already worried how I can provide for a family, help my children go through college.

Today, I graduated.

Bleh.

It's my last full day in this fake life we have been living in before we hit the real world.

I don't want to go there! The real world citizens offer me no comfort or consolidation...they are too far removed from the comforts of the imaginary place they were ripped from.

WHAT AM I SAYING?! This imaginary world was so harsh at times....the projects, the homework, juggling the responsibilites of homework, school, friends, family, work ... everyone expecting 100 % at all times.

But that's easily forgotten when you're facing 40 hour weeks for the rest of your life. I'll miss my four day week. Sleeping in every other day. Being done by noon.

Aren't you excited? Um...no.

Why not? Tell me why it's exciting?

You've worked for this for four years. --exactly, now my life isn't measured in incraments anymore. It's just one long span of time. Set on repeat. And i can't find the damn remote. I go to change it but the button is jammed. This was my destiny?

Why did I work for four years for this? That was just delaying it. Why didn't anyone tell me about this? How come alcoholics and murders get guidance and help but i'm left to suffer--stumbling around, trying to find the right path and then not fall off it?

BLEH.

Marilyn Manson, Sept. 11, 2001

"Our Cycle of Destruction" ~ ??

Our parents have shown us disfunction by angry words and constant battle, but as daylight fades the love seemingly returns. It is not love truly, but lust, so-called "animal instinct."

It's no wonder marriages don't last. Love, trust, understanding are not components invested as well as they should be.

We are the youth of the nation, dealing with violence, low self-esteem and other hazards of life, but does anyone care?

Now, as the teens of the 80s are turning 30, they are a whole new breed then those before them. Their paths are littered with broken relationships and failed marriages, hoping this next fling and the newest ring on their finger will mean they are a better, more complete person. They have children, at least two or three, and not by the same father.

So the cycle of destruction begins again ...


Notes:
--Attack on abortion (not prevention)
--Fear against educating about sex (no condoms or birth control knowledge)
--U.S. conservatives don't understand
--The rest of the U.S. isn't listening
--Ignorance
--No middle ground ... It's either too taboo or untouchable or in your face 24/7

In the wee hours in the morning, on a cocktail napkin

"Society Fallen" ~2001

Sex. In today's society it is every where you turn. We are bombarded by it every day in almost every way possible. It is used to sell anything and everything: shampoo to rice (Uncle Ben's rice bowls).

It has invaded every form of media.

Magazines with ad after ad of low rider jeans on beautiful bodies in sensual situations between articles using sexified advice to improve your career looks and love life.

Music with Britney Spears, devote in religion and a self-glorified virgin. Here is the role model for today's children: stripping off what little she was already wearing, dancing procatively and proclaiming "I'm not that innocent."

An Evening with the Girls

"Handwriting" ~ Somewhere in 2001-2002

One night, when we were baby-sitting Hailey and Erika, Mom was doing her very best (and everything she could think of) to keep Courtney quiet and happy. The girls and I had to find a quiet activity to keep ourselves amused. Somehow we ended up sitting in front of the refriderator where two dry erase boards were hanging.

Erika took the pen and began demonstrating her skills of penmanship.

Penmanship, handwriting and then cursive were always my foes in grade school. Their demonic grading scale ranged from H: the best, S+: very good, S: satsifactory, S-: just barely satisfactory. The loewst mark was P or U or somesuch thing as that. I don't remember what, but I know I received at least one for a quick assignment finished moments before it was handed in.

Random writing

When I get an idea for something I want to write about, i sketch it out, outline it or simply purge myself of the words within. Then I save it.

However, life gets in the way. Sometimes the words never become anything more ... just jottings on random pieces of paper or napkins, tucked away in my binder. But now they will again see the light of day ... or at least the waves of this blog.

"Organized Piles" ~ Oct. 2004

The biggest thing I have realized about myself since the move to Green Bay is that I am a stacker, that is, I make piles. I knew this at home in Stratford, but it is so evident I canot help to be amazed. It all began as we started packing. Boxes were stacked in the Barbie Doll room. Boxes and even random objects, one on top of annother, growing higher as each day passed.

For my first four days in Green Bay I lived amongst the piles that somehow followed me. Now, I have all the boxes gone, but the piles are still there. Under my desk, one side school folders the other supplies, books and pens. Under the sink in my bathroom, there's a container, but on top of that I have make up, toothpaste and the list goes on.

My shoes are stacked, I have my jeans in piles. My food is stacked in the pantry.

I guess the organized, if they are truly fitting of that title, stacks are okay. It's the random stacks that chip away at my sanity. For if they exist for too long they seem to take over my life. They're like feeding a Gremlin after midnight, they multiply and before I know it, I feel tiny and insignificant amongst the piles I created.