Not perfect, but darn good

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

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

Anticipation of a NEW FAMILY GUY!!!

One happy Stacey on her favorite day of the week.

On and on

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

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

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

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

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

1, 2 … Freddy’s coming for you

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


Nothing.

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

Contact.

A doorway? Is my destination just before me?

Movement.

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

Oh god.

My stomach turns.

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

My heart rate doubles then stops.

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

Light bounces off my surroundings.

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

Victory was close, but maybe another night.

Relativity

Not limited to Einstein, space and time.

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

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

You think frugal—and I think cheap.

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

The Only Choice

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Clumsy, the girl’s so clumsy

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

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

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

The Neverending Story

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


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

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

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

Letters to Live By ~ The Inevitable

Dear Friend,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Letters to Live By ~ Passion

Oh dear Friend,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Letters to Live By ~ Faith

Dear Old Friend,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Be well until we connect again. ~ Sdo

This is the life

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Please stay retired Brett

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

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

And that's rare.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Plant a Tree, Please a Pirate (Arrrrrr)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

New content rolled out in the Kingdom: Hobopolis.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Memory Lane's Soundtrack

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

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

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

Aaron Rodgers, quarterback of the Green Bay Packers.

Yeah.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Benson's Boat has Sailed

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

Hostage Situation

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

First, I have to confess to you.


I'm cheating.


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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

And they did.


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


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


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

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

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

Need it like a High

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

Something that I never saw coming.

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

It's ...

So You Think You Can Dance? !!!!

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

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

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

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

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

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

Okay.

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

The first chords sound.

And my heart jumps and then drops into my stomach.

Goo Goo Dolls, Acoustic #3

He's just standing there.

I turn up the volume.

He's still standing there.

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

He begins.

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

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

Nigel cuts the music.

*SIGHS*

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

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

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

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