I think I'm getting CSI'd out. I start to have dreams of death and crime and blood and lab tests. I fall asleep in front of the TV and I'm sure I start to dream about the sounds going on around me. I think the science is interesting, I used to love Quincy, but I think it's too much death. People can be really horrible to each other. I know this, and frankly I don't need that point driven home.

I've been watching Northern Exposure instead. I'll have to look in to getting some more TV shows on DVD. My sister got me hooked on Six Feet Under (more death, though), The West Wing (very well written) and NCIS (again with the death!) I'll peruse the local rental establishment or perhaps a website or two to see what's available.

Or maybe I should just turn off the TV.

There's a novel idea.

Ah, another holiday come and gone. Frankly, I'm relieved. I enjoy my loved ones, and I enjoy food, but the trouble here is TOO MUCH of everything. I must psych myself up to almost any social gathering, and then spend time after it decompressing. This past weekend will require at least two solid days of sleep. Yeah, good luck with that, sweetie.

The blessing was my niece. She reminded me to love with all of myself, to live in the moment, to play with my toys and try on all of my clothes. To give kisses. To say "Merry Christmas", and to laugh. Without her, we'd all be in mortal peril of losing any clue as to what the holiday really means. Thank goodness for her.

I also got some truly wonderful gifts from my beau. A mini Zen water garden for my desk, some relaxation CD's but best of all, a beautiful book called "Dreaming of Tuscany". I've been to Italy before, but this book shows where to go, what to do, how to eat, how to find a villa, recipes....And more importantly, reminds me to dream. I hadn't realized I'd put my dreams on the back burner until I started to look through that book. Thank You, my love.

Now, if I can work up enough energy to work out and work OFF all these calories, I may have a chance at turning the scales back down!!!

One of our superiors brought in a massage therapist this week and gave us all 15 minute "chair massages". I was skeptical. How much could that really help?

It helped a lot. She did a very good job at zeroing in on the spots where I get tense, and working my arms, shoulders and even a bit on my lower back.

I think we should have those every week. And so much LESS fattening than the gazillion pounds of chocolate, cookies and candy that we've been getting every freaking DAY!

Not that I don't appreciate it, but...well....I don't really, to tell the truth.

It's like Valentine's Day. We all ought to take the opportunity to tell our co-workers and those we work with at more of a distance how much we appreciate them all the time, not just at the holidays.

It's the same with family. Why should I spend my precious time with people I don't like and who don't really care if I'm there?

*looks around for her tickets to that remote island*

Darn.

As I like to say, there is the way things ought to be, and there is the way they really are. And for me, it really means I have to spend time with people I don't really agree with on many issues, because, well, they ARE the family who sustained me when I had none. They have some good points, but often those are hard to find. And they are loud, and crazy, and spend too much money. The true meaning of things tends to get lost in the wrapping paper and ribbon discarded on the living room floor.

I am grateful to be cared about, though.

Working on (in other words, faking) my Christmas spirit.

I wonder how we all got into the habit of sending each other cards? I suspect it was those crazy Victorian English folks who loved to write to each other. I also suspect it's mostly intended for those loved ones far away, but I still get cards from people across town. I then feel obligated to send them a card. I can't just do away with cards altogether, though, can I?

I was in the post office last week when one of the ladies who worked there divulged that she hadn't sent out cards for years. Isn't that some sort of "company rule"? I wondered. But then found it very amusing that she who has to be there, and can bring said cards with her doesn't even send them!

I do know some people who have simplified their holiday productions by eliminating them. I do love to write letters, and now with Grandma gone, I don't do it as much as I used to. I don't have many people left to write to, frankly, who want to hear all the goings on in my life. I miss that. I miss having pen pals and getting cards "just because". Maybe that's why I can't just NOT send holiday cards!

I did eliminate the glitter and many stickers though. In my own way, I'm simplifying.

Next year, it will be brown wrapping paper with raffia bows! Okay, maybe not that drastic, but I do feel the need to take things one step at a time. Ease myself into it.

I didn't actually need my refrigerator to STOP working to get me to clean it out. All that meat in the freezer, OY. I am choosing to operate under the mantra of "when in doubt, throw it out".

Now, to the grocery store!

Dear Christmas Tree Light Manufacturers,

Why do strands of lights bought years ago last so much longer than the ones I bought 1 or 2 years ago? And then why is there no conceivable way to repair them? I'm just supposed to fill up trash bags with them, dump them in a landfill and buy more?

Just Wondering,
Me

I am a movie snob, admittedly. I don't, however state that movies I don't like are all bad. I just state that there are some movies I do not like.

For example, I am not generally a fan of what most Americans consider comedies. I do love classic films with Cary Grant and Katherine Hepburn. I find Monty Python amusing.

So for the love of all that's in glorious black and white, would someone explain why "A Christmas Story" is considered entertaining? A classic, even? I'm not comprehending that. It's painful to watch, and like most films that identify as comedy, I'm waiting for it to get funny.

Ah well, I have many more classics here I can watch instead. I just don't understand people sometimes.

I saw a man today, walking down the sidewalk, on a side street toward downtown. He had a metal halo around his head, secured by long metal rods that ran from his head down to a brace around the base of his neck. I think the halo was bolted into his skull. He was smoking a cigarette and walking away from the hospital.

It reminded me that one year in high school, one of my classmates' car hit a tree, and he had to have something like that on his body for most of the year that followed. It seemed like something from a horror movie. I couldn't imagine living each day, trying to shower and sleep with that thing on. I didn't know him well, but I felt winces of pain when I saw him.

I felt that wince again today. I think it's just a human nature type reaction. I do it when I see anyone in visible pain, or I think may be in pain. Like when my 12 year old sister broke her leg on a Friday and had to wait until Monday to have the cast put on. It took two of us to get her to the bathroom. It hurt her so much, even with that velcro thing, that I wanted to cry every time she moved. Is it empathy? Is it just the ability to feel connected to people? Is it my own becoming more aware of my own body-mind connection?

Not sure, but I do know it's more than sitting at a stop sign, waiting for someone to walk past.

I wonder if there is any correlation between the number of television advertisements for diamonds and the television advertisements for anti-depressants?

And if so, are the meds for the women who won't be getting the diamonds, or the men who feel obligated to buy them?

Or for those of us inundated by the unreasonable expectations we may feel placed upon us by too many family obligations/competition for attention/parties, etc?

I for one, choose to eschew all of those things, and embrace the peace and light of the season.
I will miss my visit with my beau, but I will endeavor to see the joy and peace all around.
And bake, too.

Here comes the "lake effect snow"!!!

I suppose I should be grateful that it didn't start sooner nor hamper my holiday travel plans last week.

And if I don't like the snow, I should just get the heck out of dodge, right?

I know, I know...

Having one's beau begin a conversation with "Don't panic, but I have something to tell you..."
is NOT a pleasant feeling.


*sigh*

Some general observations.

Family holidays can be really competitive. People are already trying to out-do one another with perspective gifts.

My niece is full of baby magic. She has the power to transform moods and attitudes with a smile.

Going to the zoo is fun even when you can't feed the goats.

Sometimes being too big to climb on the toys at playland is as frustrating as being too small to.

Christmas shopping is overrated. So are most gifts.

I can't stay up as late nor drink as much as I used to.

Laughter is indeed the best medicine. That or playing on a playground with a nearly two year old girl who likes to go down the slide head first.

My grandfather is in a nursing home. The building used to be a school. I was really happy to be able to visit him without a lot of other relatives telling me when to come and go and what to bring. My sister and I brought him restaurant take out BBQ and some beer. I'll admit I felt like I was "breaking the rules" bringing that six pack in there. I carried it on my right side, trying to shield it from the desk with my body. What were they going to do, kick me out?

I know that is the best place for him, but it broke my heart to leave him there. I wanted to take him home, but he can't stand nor walk without help. I can't care for him. He lit up when he saw us, my sister and I. He tried to stay awake and "talk all night" like he said he wanted to.

He's winding down, like a watch. It's bittersweet. He has been a very strong, opinionated person. A person I was always afraid I would disappoint. A person who intimidated me. He's still stubborn and opinionated. But he's frail and vulnerable, too.

It's reminding me that we will all be there one day. And he knows he's no longer a "big shot". And that pisses him off.

*sigh*

I know some of those people there don't get visitors, though. And he was so proud we were there he wanted to eat in the common area so everyone could see us. That makes me feel good, to know that he loves me, even if he didn't say it very often.

Voting is such a multi-faceted experience. I'm still constantly amazed at how many people standing in line with me don't know where they are supposed to vote, or how they are supposed to vote or what they are really voting for.

I'm pleased they show up and everything, but it's hard for me to understand them not putting a touch of personal responsibility behind what they are doing. They could pick up a newspaper, watch any number of televised events, pick up a voters guide or even look at the internet (which I realize not everyone has access to).

Maybe it's my detail oriented side that makes sure my voter registration card is up to date, and I know how to get where I need to be, and I park in the parking spots, (not the circle drive in front of that school, idiot!!) I print a sample ballot and read the proposals. Maybe I'm just uncommon.

The line was super long when I left though, much longer than when I got there, and that's nice to see.

I hate that once a month my emotions get out of control.
I hate that the cashier at the grocery store called the women in front of me with their heads, faces, arms and legs covered "foreigners" and was irritated by them.
I hate that I can't separate certain actors with details I know about them.
I hate that I'll have to watch every single thing I eat for the rest of my life.
I hate that I eat for comfort.
I hate that complete strangers feel compelled to share with me how great and strong their faith in God is. I think that's intensely personal, and it's like them talking about their sex life or their mental health status.
I hate that as an adult, I still sometimes feel like a child who is left out or overlooked, and people don't see that they are doing it.
I hate that things that really matter, often don't, and things that don't often do.
I hate that I often feel like there isn't enough time to do the things I really want to do, when I'm stuck doing what I have to do.
I hate that I feel like I don't measure up. To what, I'm not sure.
I hate that sometimes, things are over-hyped, and by the time I see/hear/read them, I just don't see what the big deal was.

I am glad, though, that I have a place to put these things down, and get them out. Maybe that will help.

"You aren't going to wear that to church?" she asked, a little nervous.
I didn't bother to tell her I didn't go to church anymore, only when she asked me to join them when I was visiting.
"No, Grandma, I won't." I said.

My beloved Grandma died a little over a year ago. I can remember trying on dressy fancy hats at JC Penney's with her once when I was in high school.

My heart still misses her and I want to talk to her, and send her a card to let her know I love her. I send them to Grandpa in the nursing home now.

I love you, Grandma.



Me and Grandma and my crazy hat

I'll admit I'm completely amused that I stayed on the treadmill for 40 minutes instead of the usual 20 because the TV attached to the treadmill (that's right in front of my face) that was installed a few weeks ago is now hooked up to cable.

It's still a bit painful with my runner's knee to maintain a consistent speed and incline. I can't vouch that my heart rate was up the whole time, but I was on there longer. That has to count for something in my "plus" column.

Any time I'm moving and NOT sitting on the couch is a good thing.

Collecting. It's an interesting eye into people you know (and people you don't). Have you ever been to a show, a gathering, a convention or group of people with similar interests that you may not share? Not likely, if you don't share it, you probably wouldn't spend the time.

I think it's interesting though, to take on even for the day, a mantle of "outsider looking in" to something a good, dear friend may really love. For example, my beau loves old cars. One day we took in a classic car museum. I am a museum girl, and love to learn, though I don't know a thing about cars. I can, however, see the artistry and view them as sculpture. I had a hard time containing a laugh, though, when I turned to confer with him about something, and he was on the floor staring up under a car with the first front wheel drive apparatus! A fellow gentleman guest was asking what it looked like, etc. I found myself seeing a whole new side of the man I love. His love for learning and knowing about cars, his curiosity, his enthusiasm was a side of him I might not have gotten the chance to see before.

I'm grateful for that and other opportunities to get some insight into my friends.

Now, who wants to go to Vegas and see the Star Trek Experience? I KNOW I'm not the only dork around...

Feeling like a feeble old lady this morning with numbness in my hands and fingers and joints aching all over the place.

Great.

But I did do a workout last night to make up for blowing off Tuesday.

And totally hooked on Lost, but more importantly the psychological underpinnings they seem to be focusing on just now. Which for me, who analyzes everything, is absolutely a match made in heaven. I get tired of shows that insult me or don't even get my brain working. I suppose that's some people's reason for watching, though.

That's what I have The Girls Next Door for.

heh.

Signposts marking the passage of time. Anniversaries, birthdays, friends and relatives celebrating, children growing older.

I feel happier, more content, more settled and just basically pleased with life in general than ever a time I can recall in the past.

I don't love my job, I don't live in the same town as my boyfriend, I don't even have a house.

There were things I thought I'd need to feel the way I do now, but I'm pleased to be wrong.


And look, now the sun is coming out.

Sometimes I go for weeks without an inkling of a clue. I need some signpost to point me in a direction. I need some semblance of a sign that there is a reason to go on in the world full of people that make me crazy.

If a community can create a fund for the children of the man who killed their own children, THAT is forgiveness. That is what those of us who believe in a higher power strive for. But when presented with seem like petty little family differences, we turn our backs and say NO, I won't ever talk to that person again, what does that say about us?

I feel ashamed that they can do this and at times, I cannot. I feel smaller somehow, yet emboldened by their example.

People have hurt me in my life, and I'm sure I have hurt some as well. I'm not asking for anyone to forgive me, but I struggle with forgiving them. I'm grateful to have seen this example in action. It reminds me that I have work to do, but that it CAN indeed be done.

I'm tired of letting my battle of the bulge get the better of me. I'm tired of quieting my whiny moods with food. I'm tired of feeling like Jabba the Hut.


I'm still working out, and mostly going through the motions of sticking to my eating plan.

I'm not giving up, though.

Just too dang stubborn. I can beat this thing.

I learn new things about being part of a couple all the time.

I learn that we don't always have the same idea of how to spend a sunny Saturday afternoon. I learn that we don't always want to eat the same thing for dinner. I learn that we have different ideas of entertainment. I learn our need for sleep often vastly differs, as does our sleep schedule.

I also learn that we can still connect on new and deeper levels, even after four years. I learn that we can be quiet and silent, and still abide in one another's presence. We can pack a great picnic, he remembers things I forget. He remembers when I get lost going to the same town, making that wrong turn every time even though I live here and he doesn't.

He laughs at my jokes, he smiles at me for no reason, I catch him looking at my face when he thinks I'm not looking. He loves my cooking, and we love to enjoy a sunny day, a bottle of wine, and just looking out the window together.

I know life is not a bed of roses, and things can be an adjustment, and sometimes couples drive one another nuts, but I'll take what we have over anything else any day.

It's baby fever around here where I work. Some of the women are new grandmothers. That's wonderful for them, and they are so excited, and that's great, but can we PLEASE talk about something else?

I know maybe I'm feeling left out of the conversation because I don't have labor stories, hospital stories, nor what I craved when I was pregnant stories. Frankly, I'm glad for those things, thank you very much.

And why, pray tell must people bring their offspring into the office? If I didn't have to be here, you can sure as sh*t bet I wouldn't be in here, even with a kid.

*mutters*

Things must be looking up for me. I look around my apartment and see what needs cleaning. I was too tired to do most of it last night, but I started picking up the big pieces.
I even made the bed this morning!

This morning, I notice the return, albeit tentatively, the return of my friend the sun.

yay.

It's going to be a long winter. Maybe I'll break down and get one of those light box things. They are expensive, though.


The world will be a bit less vivid with the passing of Ann Richards. I am, however, elated to hear she is the source of one of my favorite quotes, and I never knew it.
"Ginger Rogers does everything Fred Astaire does, only she does it backwards and in high heels."

so true. And I'll bet she had the blisters to prove it.

Is it just me, or does it seem like all these "news" shows are trying to make more "news" by talking about their own personnel changes?

Jeez, people leave jobs and take new ones every day for more money or opportunity. Get over yourselves.

Oh, and by the way, some celebrity offspring photo shoot is not "news" either. There was a day when this type of stuff was reserved for those entertainment magazine programs. Now it's bled over into the "news".

No wonder so few people really know anything much of what is going on in the world. One has to really seek out reliable sources of information.

I'm so not ready for winter. This past weekend was rainy, damp, gray and chilly. All the fun of a taste of winter in the not yet fall! Thanks!

My bones ached, my mood went south, my interest in things normal to me, my motivation, all gone.

Sitting on the couch watching Miami Ink seemed like a good idea.

I came to the conclusion then that I feel about tattoos the way I do about mini-skirts. They may look great on other people, and I admire them, but they aren't for me. Maybe I can't make that commitment. I just can't think of any symbol nor image that I want permanently inked under my skin.

I'm starting to feel better. Not happy, but better. It's a step.

And now at the Y I go to, they have little TV's installed in front of each treadmill. I wondered whey they had moved them all to face the wall. Now I can really dangle a carrot in front of myself by watching the Food Network as I walk. That makes me giggle.

Feeling somber today just thinking of lives that changed forever and how many of us who weren't even near New York or Washington D.C. or that field in Pennsylvania are forever changed as well.

And I wish they would stop saying stupid crap like "never forget". DUH. Some of us still can't get those pictures and images our of our heads, thank you very much.

ooh, trying to be respectful and it turns into a rant. Maybe it's true though that nothing will truly change unless we take some sort of action. In my experience, anger can often spur something like that on. As my brother's introduction to me of Rage Against the Machine told me....Anger is a gift. If I can get angry, I still have passion. I care about something. I am capable of strong feelings. All is not lost. It's just what I do with the gift that can be the hard part.

In my little world, I believe being mad is better than being sad. It signals to me that I am moving out of the darkness and dealing with my feelings. It's a wound healing. It's the bad stuff draining out.

Not everyone agrees with me though.

I grew up being ashamed of and hiding most of my feelings. Girls aren't supposed to get angry. Ah, but they do. I spent a whole year a while back just being angry. It took a lot of energy but I felt so much better when the anger was finally gone. I felt reborn. I felt like I was at the bottom of an empty barrel and I could climb out and fill it with good stuff.

Now I find myself moving to the anger and it feels good. It feels familiar. It feels like a process I know. I have guideposts and signs to point me the way.

I'm struggling to make someone else understand these things. I don't think I can explain it to someone who hasn't at least been in the darkness. I am very frustrated by this. I can only keep trying, chipping away and showing him my insides. I only hope it doesn't make me MORE angry. I love him, and I don't want to hurt him, and I know he really is trying to love and support me. I'm still not used to that.

So, some toluene heptane and acetone xylene got into the ventilation system where I work.

Evacuation followed by people going to the hospital.

Makes me wonder, though, just how safe is it in here now, the next day?


Reason #612 to either
A) run away and live in the woods as my beau suggests OR
B) buy a private island and move there, as my sister and her hubby plan to.

Many good things.

long weekends
Weddings
dancing to 80's music with my 19 month old niece
chocolate
red wine
75 degree days in Northern Michigan even though the trees are starting to change
an omelet at a "Hole in the Wall" breakfast joint
staying in a hotel room upstairs from the reception of said wedding
blowing bubbles
seeing a lake from one's window in the morning
an entire day of sitting on the couch, playing captain of the remote control
Extreme Makeover: Home Edition
seeing oddly random contents in the back of pick up trucks while avoiding the heaviest of holiday traffic
spending time with my sisters
realizing my niece knows how to say "chocolate" AND knows what it is
laughing at silly drunk boys and realizing no matter how old some people get, things don't ever change


That's all I can think of at the moment. I love to journal in lists. That is a new format for me, but it's really great!

Trying to keep my mind on the good stuff. And that theory that you can choose to be happy?
Bunk. Especially if you aren't really sure why things seem to suck so much.

Fake it til you make it, that's my current method. If I pretend I'm happy then maybe I'll start to believe it. Isn't that like lying, though?

It's just regular life angst stuff. Nothing can change it, it is what it is. I just have to get over or past or around it somehow.

Long weekend coming up which is good. There is the promise and hope of sleep, but not likely true good stuff until Sunday night. It continues to elude me and then there are commitments.

I remember being in Catholic school and hearing the talk about "getting the call" or hearing God communicate with you. Yeah, I never felt nor heard that. I always thought everyone else but me did, and there was something wrong with me. I think in some ways I'm still waiting for that voice to tell me what to do, where to go, how to be. I wonder, is this all there is? Because it's not all that.

Wow, am I a barrel of fun today. I'm working on changing that perspective. So far it isn't really changing. Giving up would be worse than not succeeding, though.

Please tell me I'm right!

Let me just say that co-workers who bring in bumper crops of tomatoes ROCK. A few weeks ago it was regular sized tomatoes and grape tomatoes. Perfect for roasted veggie pasta and out-of-hand snacking, respectively. This week, it's cherry tomatoes, but the size of golf balls!! I sprayed them with balsamic vinegar spray-on dressing (what a great idea!!) and added salt and pepper. It was the perfect balance to my dinner at the ball park.

My brother-in-law wins the "most romantic moment" prize for calling out the cotton candy vendor. He skipped our section. My sister had been tracking his movements, determined that buying the cotton candy off the pole from the mobile vendor was better than the other cotton candy available. She was irked, and then he called the guy over from the next section. Awwww.

Whoever came up with putting a bit of popcorn in the bottom of the bag of cotton candy was a genius!! As far as we were concerned, anyway, the idea of salty + sweet = winner!! Chocolate would have been good, too, but we can't have everything, plus it's melty when it's hot out.

Feasting on a bratwurst, sipping iced tea, sitting on the first base line, seeing a bat shatter, a home run, a triple play, all in all an excellent Wednesday night with family.

Another day, another dollar as they say. Who are "they" anyway?

Working to overcome my moods that seem to overcome me lately. Not sure why that is, can't really pinpoint anything out of the ordinary normal everyday crud. One has to wonder, is there an everyday crud threshold? Is there a buildup factor? Do I need scrubbing bubbles for the everyday crud?

Seems like it.

Where the heck did the summer go? It started out with a family obligation type of function, and it will seem to end with one as well. I enjoy time spent, but not always the travel one must embark on to GET there and back home.

Where is the transporter beam when I need it?

Meanwhile, I'm hoping my old friends the Indigo Girls will revive me as they always seem to do.

New self-challenge. To embark on thrift shopping. Haven't been in any type of thrift store since Halloween costume shopping in high school. Nothing would fit me. Discouraging. Disorgaznized.

Now I want to raid at least 4 places near work, learn the layout, see what they have.

The goal is to try to find holiday gifts there. Also other items, like household and kitchen things I can use. I hate overconsumption, discarding perfectly good items and shopping at big box stores.

I don't expect to find the plus sized fat girl love of great clothes. I know someone that finds great clothes, but she's not my size.

Ready, GO!

I wish they made sippy cups for adults. I had an incident with my coffee this morning getting out of the car with pot luck supplies in hand.

Maybe it would have helped had I tightened the lid on my travel coffee cup.

Operator error.

At least it's Friday!

Ever notice one person's idea of "good food" or a "great restaurant" is radically different from one's own?

Maybe I have high standards, and I do cook a lot, but I find most places to be overrated. People will rave on about a certain new place (until a newer one opens up) and go on and on about it. I'll go there, and say, eh, it's okay.

I seriously doubt anyone in most of western Michigan has had really truly authentic Chinese food around here. If they have, they aren't telling me about it! What I find is buffets with Americanized homogenized relatively bland chicken pieces in some sort of sauce. Eh. I can make that at home, thank you very much.

I say these things not to be bitchy, but to remind myself NOT to listen to most people. Give me a local restaurant that uses fresh local ingredients. I love lots of different kinds of cuisines, too. I'm flexible and open to a variety of tastes.

Hm... must be lunch time!

Not feeling overly inspired lately.

Though this morning the willpower it took to put a small bag of M&M's on someone else's desk was enormous. I'm proud of myself for that. I have grapes, yummy red seedless grapes. Never ate them as a kid, so grew up thinking I didn't like them. Amazing how they can have a completely different taste.

I had forgotten how good working out with the Nautilus equipment feels. Not sore but a good "I've used these muscles" feeling. I am fortunate to have had the advice of a personal trainer type person at the Y when I first started. I think if I had been sore or unable to move the next day, I might have given up long ago. Now when I skip the weight training, it's because I want to get out of there go home.

Adding exercise to a sedentary life is hard. Every day I go there, though, I win. And I've been winning for 3 years now!

That is something to be inspired about. I'm sticking with it, even though the weight is still inching back, I'm not giving up. I'm too stubborn for that.

*grumbles something about being a Taurus and German*

I'm sitting here at work listening to some women down the aisle laugh really hard. They keep saying "oh Gary", to this man who must be saying or doing something funny. I can't hear him, though.

All of a sudden, it popped into my head why I, the meek and mild 7th grader that I used to be, got in trouble in Mrs. Partlow's class all the time for talking. John Hardwick who sat near me used to make me laugh all the time. He was smart and funny and an expert at drawing cartoon characters all over the place. I secretly adored him, but could never admit that to myself, let alone him! At any rate, since I was the one doing all the laughing, I was the one who got the evil eye all the time. She never heard nor saw what he was doing! It all makes perfect sense now!!

I believe, (speaking as one who now gets a charge out of making other laugh) that there is a secret delight in evoking laughter from others. Especially when the target seems such a shy quiet one. Then the victory is even sweeter.

Here's to you, John. You will always hold a special place in my heart.

I feel sad and depressed, but I still have hope.

All along my path of life, I look back and realize hope was always there. Even when things seemed their darkest, shards of hope remained. Somehow I was able to gather them together and move along.

I've been through darker days than this. But having moved into the light, when the darkness approaches, I worry that that was the last of the light I'd been allowed.

But I can laugh and smile. I still have hope.

Evidently disagreeing with a group, asking for ideas to compromise and agreeing to disagree means one "has issues".

In the end, I persevered, though. Because excluding people is never a good idea.

Maybe this committee I'm on at work pushes the buttons of high school where I was often excluded. Or perhaps there are too many strata of employees of who reports to who. I just think if we are doing something nice, we should do it for everybody or nobody.

Seems simple to me. Evidently, though, not to everyone else. Or perhaps everyone else can't step back and see the larger picture. I do believe a lot of people are incredibly short-sighted.
They can only see what is in their own little bubble. Their kids, their home, their school or work or neighborhood. Much outside of that, they really don't care.

And that, my friends, is what, in part, has gotten our environment and country and world the way it is today.

Plus, people don't pay attention to much of anything around them when they are driving, and that just plain pisses me off.

I have to wonder, is life really complicated or do we bungle it up ourselves?

I think it would be simpler to live in a different place for me, closer to those I care for, but I can always find an excuse not to move. I think it would be great to have a different job, but I get in a comfort zone (rut) and can't seem to get the oomph to get out.

I see those around me who have far more complexity and drama in their own lives, and most of it yes, is of their own making. It's easy to stand on the sidelines and referee, though.

It's easy to want to do something to make my life or the world a better place. The trick is to not only figure out what that thing is, but to do it.

Trying to snap out of the blues I feel coming around me.

Went to a really interesting Celtic Festival where two of my friends had a psychic reading/tarot card/fortune teller thing. I didn't really have anything to ask, so I abstained. They both seemed to have interesting experiences, one of them having to call the woman back because what they needed to talk about was going to take too much time and energy just then. Wow. And she'd never had a reading of that sort before, at all.

I found some really interesting fairy images, one of which is my zodiac sign. A Taurus fairy, and one for my friend, who is a scary Scorpio. I seem to attract those, it was pointed out to me, which I pondered, and is true!

It is a strange sensation, having two friends discuss me as if I weren't there, though. They both noted that I do have a dark side, which I thought I kept pretty well away from people. But I can't really do that with those who know me well. And love me anyway.
They thought I ought to get a tattoo, which I don't agree with, just because they both have them doesn't mean I will get one. In fact, the fact that more and more people are getting them makes me NOT want to, on purpose.

At any rate, I have a dark fairy picture here with me now, on a bookmark. She's got jet black hair, a red dress and red wings. She's got a crescent moon tattoo beneath her left eye. She's got elbow length gloves and red feathers in her hair, and she's looking at me over her left shoulder.

Maybe it's time to embrace the dark side.

Some days it's just not worth the makeup.


I have a lot to say about work and what it's worth and how I feel about it. Thing is, if I write it all down here, it might just make it feel worse.

I try to keep a good positive attitude. I try to realize what I do is important somewhere, to someone. I try to do my best each day.

When you have the type of job though were the only reward for hard work is MORE hard work, and it never really ends, it's hard to keep away from that "gerbil in the wheel" feeling.

I'm in this place of hate right now and I don't like it very much because I feel it spilling over onto other areas of my life where it really does not apply.

I know there's more to life than this, and I know I'm meant for more important, rewarding and satisfying things. Meanwhile, I have rent to pay.

It is Friday, though!!

Usually there is all manner of festivals around here in the summer. A Polish Festival, a German Festival, an Italian Festival....food and random items for sale along with music and great people watching. Sadly, most of them have been canceled for lack of money. Usually the city kicks in some stuff for free, and what with the state clamping down on funds, the city has to as well.

I understand the why of it. I'd pay a few bucks to get into one of these festivals, but I don't think they want to do that. Maybe they'll move them to an alternate location.

At any rate, a smaller suburban community here is having a Celtic Festival this weekend. Aside from getting my friends to skip the Haggis booth, I'm looking forward to it a great deal. Men in kilts, swordplay demonstrations, browsing, food, music and friends gathering. What could be better on a summer afternoon?

I'll miss my allotment of brats and German wine-tasting and cooking demonstrations, though.
Maybe next year.

Yesterday I voted in the primary election. It wasn't a huge monster deal. At 7:15 pm when the polls were only open for another 45 minutes, I was voter #100.

That's a shame. Also a shame was the young woman trying to vote and looking puzzled at the ballot because some of the names she'd been told of weren't on it. All the education we are doing just isn't enough. But, sometimes people don't take responsibility for their own information gathering.

I voted because I could. All around the world there are people who can't.

dammit.

I miss buying school supplies. They are having a donation program here at work though. But *I* want new pens too!


I wish I knew why I keep watching Extreme Makeover Home Edition. It only makes me cry. It's good they do what they do, but is it just contrived to make me feel better by watching it though I didn't do anything? A big network and big department store did. Maybe it makes THEM feel better by having the chance to put something that isn't totally crap on TV. But it seems contrived really by having these awfully sad stories of families they choose.

I don't like watching movies I know are supposed to make me feel sad, either, so why on earth do I keep going back for more?

*sigh*

I wonder if everyone has days when they just want to give up. I am sure they do, but most people don't likely dwell on it or think about it too much.

I see trash on the ground around my apartment that I usually pick up. People are pigs. "Hey, that's my front yard!" , I think to myself. Today, feeling defeated I just thought, they'll do it again tomorrow anyway...

I just feel tired, kind of "beaten" by things just now. I'm not sure why, though things haven't been particularly difficult, although sleep eludes me.

I don't feel like exercising, like cooking nor cleaning the house, all the things that are normally "me".

Maybe I just need some sleep. I surely hope that's all it is.

Does food equal love because that's how it worked when I was young?

Eating certain things I enjoy is a pleasure. Sunday it was biscuits. Today it was kibbee and tabooli. It's not just "comfort foods" nor foods that are just bad for me. Though Dove dark chocolate is always love.

I am part Italian, Polish, German and English, while being Lebanese via osmosis. Almost any ethnicity shows love with food. Heck, we celebrate with it, mourn with it, cure with it, console with it, rejoice with it. It is a constant companion.

Right now I'm so full I might not have any dinner. But I likely will anyway. I wish I could better understand WHY I eat when I'm not hungry. What is that urge? It's not like I ever was starving and am trying to make up for that feeling.

The older I get, the harder it is to get those extra pounds to come off, though. Exercise is not as effective as it was when I started this ride.

I'm working on it. But not only do I love to eat, I love the feelings I have when I eat good food (meaning things I like prepared well), food that I love.

Yes, it's "fry an egg on the sidewalk" hot. I saw them do it on the news this morning.

I'm grateful for air conditioning at home and a job where I can work inside, sitting down, sipping coffee and be a bit chilly in my sleeveless shirt.

*counts her blessings*

I really try to keep my life as drama-free as possible. Others around me don't, though.

I find that dealing with them, listening to them, trying to help and support them when they want it but NOT saying nor doing anything when they don't is exhausting.

Some people I know have drama thrust upon them whether or not they want it or mire themselves in decisions that bring it on. Some though, seem to thrive on it. They wallow in it like pigs in mud, covering themselves with the status and attention it brings them from the world. It seems like an addiction. They never get enough.

I wonder if they don't see themselves as I do, from outside the events. Do they consciously realize that each step they take, each choice they make brings them even more helpings of the same? Police reports, interventions, counseling, probation, broken homes, cheating mates, scared children, late night phone calls, panicked moments...

I don't think they see it. I think they say to themselves "my life is a mess, or it's hard or it's just supposed to be this way."
It makes my heart break because I'm talking about someone very close to me and I can't really help her. I can listen, hug, try to find reason in the maelstrom. She's going to do what she's going to do. And then I'll help put it back together. Again.

No matter how hard I try to shield myself from the undercurrent of emphasis on weight (or lack thereof), it still manifests itself.

Most of the time I'm happy with myself just the way I am at this moment. Most of the time I like me. I am, however, a work in progress. Not to be a certain weight, nor a certain size, but to be healthier.

It's just frustrating some days, most days. To be barraged. I turn off the television more and more, and listen to public radio. That helps. Most of the time.

It's like trying to prevent the sun from touching your skin, though.

This morning on my way to work, I was driving behind one of those lawn care company trucks. There is usually a pick-up truck with an open trailer bearing the tools of the trade. This one was different, though. It was an enclosed trailer, the kind that reminded me of a horse trailer.

Imagine a lawn care company arriving to cut your grass, trim the hedges, etc. Instead of mowers and edgers and weed whackers, out walks a herd of goats!!


Now that's environmentally friendly.

(yes, these are often random thoughts that drift in and out of my mind when I've not yet had my full draught of morning coffee)

I wonder how much of the day-to-day interactions most of us are involved in are reactionary, habitual, and how much is consciously trying to be heartfelt and thoughtful.

How many of us are going through the motions?


I, for one, today seem to be short of patience as I was yesterday, mostly with stupidity brought on by lack of communication. It's work related and it won't change. But if people's income rests on their performance, and their performance rests on support staff, doesn't it follow that....


Oh, never mind!

The conversations I had with my beau this past weekend ranged from the difference between knowledge and wisdom, to the difference between navy beans, pea beans and great northern beans.

Yes, we can talk about anything!


Gosh how I love that man.

*smiles like a besotted teenager*


PS. Lady in the Water is an amazing movie! I'm sure most of the general viewers won't get it, but they won't likely see it either, which is sad. I think it's the film so far that is the MOST of M. Night's own ideas, thoughts and dreams. I think it has been the one closest to his own heart.

I've often found that most films that pass for comedy these days are ones I simply don't find amusing.
I used to wonder, is that because I don't "get" the joke? Is it directed at a younger crowd? What am I missing?

I think I don't get the joke because I just have a higher expectation than fart jokes and making fun of someone, or laughing at someone else's expense. (I always identify with the person who is the butt of the joke).

I want my movies to entertain me, sure. But I also expect them to make me think, to struggle, to piece things together and form thoughts, and want to talk about them afterwards.

I know that's a lot to expect, but I think if we all had higher expectations, the movies they make would be better.

Wishful thinking, I suppose.


Now, that's not to say I don't enjoy a good Austin Powers or Monty Python and the Holy Grail moment every once in a while.

Ever notice when someone uses the word "but" in a sentence, you can pretty much ignore everything they said right before it?

I hate to bother you, but...
I really like you, but...
That's a nice sweater, but...
I know you're busy, but..


wouldn't life be so much simpler if people just said what they thought, or asked what they wanted to ask?
Many people don't appreciate directness, though. When they ask what you think, and you tell them what you think, that's not what they wanted to know. They wanted you to agree with them, or tell them their really stupid idea was a good one, or that guy wasn't going to cheat on them.

Life is too short for that crap. It's all a dance. Can't we just cut to the chase please?

I heard a story on the news this morning about a company that employs a "result oriented work environment".

In other words, workers aren't restricted by specific work hours or times or blocks of time they must devote to tasks. They don't need to ask permission to take off early or come in late or go hiking. All that matters is that the tasks be completed.

And the employer has reported not only a more efficient work force, but a happier one!

DUH.

I myself work by the task, not by the clock. I work one task from the beginning until the end, or at least until a logical stopping point. If that makes me late for lunch or late to leave, so be it.
The story noted that just because people are sitting at their desks doesn't mean they are working. Like me, now.

I think a situation that would reward good work completed right the first time with something other than more work would be one I would like to be in.

*sigh*

Back to work...Or at least looking like I am. I wonder how many people have to stretch what they do to make it fit the day? Or should I be asking for more work? I like to skate along just a bit, because often I have too much work. Days like this are rare.

*looks out the window at the blue sunny sky*

I bought some awesome Michigan blueberries a couple of weekends ago at the farmer's market and JUST only finished eating them. Super yummy and I love how the local stuff lasts longer. Duh, it doesn't have to travel so far to get TO me!

The grocery store had Michigan blueberries this past weekend for 99 cents a pint (I miss the cent symbol key that used to be on typewriters) and made 6 lovely jars of blueberry jam.

yummy! I may have to make MORE because I might not be able to resist them long enough to make them into Christmas presents.

I seem to be sticking to the berry varieties of jams because they only require mashing, not peeling. Peach jam does sound good, though.

Strawberry and jalapeno jam are staples, though.

Not much insightful I can think to say.


Ever notice how few people really go out of their way to do a small kindness? Like, Sunday I picked up a kid's sandal who had kicked it off while his cell-phone-engrossed mother pushed him around the store. It would have likely been lost, or by the time she noticed, she would have been halfway around the store, or out to the car. She barely indicated a thanks for that would have disturbed her conversation.

Won't make me stop doing things like that, though.

I think a lot of people want to do things, nice things, but either don't look around themselves enough to see the opportunity, or do them and don't really realize it. They just think "well, I did what anyone would do."

That's not necessarily true.

I have no motivation, no energy, no desire nor commitment to even watch a movie. I seem perfectly content to sit in the meat locker cooled room, covered by a blankie, changing channels from nothing to nothing.

It's not normal for me, and it frightens me a little.

Then again, this hasn't been a normal couple of weeks, and it's friggin' 90+ degrees outside.

The bathroom won't clean itself, however.

I'm still learning about the power of the mind-body connection. It's amazing to me that over a period of stressful time, how the muscles can actually clench onto stress, onto feelings and emotions, onto worry and fatigue. I can wake up aching all over and not really know why. Then when those feelings have release, or fear is relieved, how the body can make all sorts of signs of this.

I cry. I cry when I'm happy, when I'm overwhelmed, when I feel a danger or worry has passed, when someone is "out of the woods", when I just feel lighter, but limp. I feel weight lifted, but the toll it has taken on my carrying it as well.

I think it wasn't until I began to exercise regularly that I learned though I'm not an exercise lover, I do like how I feel after I do it. It is important, perhaps, to remember to incorporate it even when things are difficult, and I don't think I really want to do it. It would have made me feel better this past week. I really get out of my head when I work out, it's so methodical for me, and that is a comfort.

Like washing dishes. I can let my mind roam. Speaking of which, I have a sinkful now.

Been gone from computer land a while.

My boyfriend was in town, and we like to spend time together as much as possible because he doesn't live here.

My dad had major surgery. I had no idea how tired I would get from waiting.

I'm glad my niece was around though, to make the time pass faster with smiles.

I took my beau to see Willie Nelson, one of his very favorites. That was truly wonderful, sharing an experience like that.

So my vacation wasn't very "vacation-y" but it was great to be away from work, totally forgetting what I do.

Now, back to the grindstone.

Once I took a tour of the Kennedy Space Center. It was kind of boring because there weren't any launches or anything. Just buses taking us out to patches of dirt where rockets had been or would be launched. I do recall one of the burners being bigger around than I am tall. That gave me a tiny inkling to the vast scale of things, especially parts of the rocket that wind up being shed as it rises.

I've always liked science, even did pretty well in it at school until I got to college. I'm fascinated by the shuttle launches, by science programs, space, biology and general chemistry type stuff.

I'm a little sad because the shuttle hasn't taken off, but I realize the need for safety. I remember my freshman year Biology lab, they wheeled the TV into the room so we could watch. Freshman year of college and we all watched Challenger become a ball of fire.


I think the key is that we keep exploring. If those more powerful than us give up, what are we to take from that? Where will that leave us and our world, nation, ideas, technology and pioneer spirit?
I think it would be awesome if they launch on July 4. Not just patriotic, but life affirming in this time where it's getting harder and harder to see the patch of blue sky to shoot for.

When I did an internship at the Art Institute of Chicago, there was a student exhibit that had one piece that consisted of an American flag laying on the floor. I didn't see it myself, but I heard people talking about it all the time. It was on the news. The flag was placed in such a way that to read the caption, one had to step on the flag.

Now, I'm not super patriotic, but smart enough to figure this out. I felt strongly that the artist should be allowed to exhibit their work and have it be seen by everyone (this seemed far more important than a photo of a crucifix submerged in a jar of urine).

Every day that flag was there, a veteran would come, fold up the flag, and place it on a table or shelf or something that was nearby. And every day, the artist or someone at the gallery would unfold it and lay it back on the floor.

It was an exercise in patience. Although there were demonstrations outside the gallery, there never seemed to be any harsh words or altercations inside the gallery. It was a respectful exercise in letting another's viewpoint be expressed even though it may piss you off to the Nth degree.

Now it seems they want to pass a law banning anyone's right to burn the flag. I worry because it seems every day they want to take a little bit more away from us.

I suppose it's more important that we have soldiers in Iraq and it's a mid-term election year, though.

My dad is having surgery soon. My sister and I went with him to a couple of appointments today. One of them was a "pre-op" type of appointment. Lots of information imparted, where to go, where to park, a bunch of prescriptions, here's what tubes you'll have when you wake up, etc...


The nurse's name? Mary Kay. My mother's name. Same exact name.

My mom passed away in 1977.


Coincidence? I think not.
No way.

I'm thinking my detail oriented self is going a little overboard.

I have a wedding to attend, and the color my toenails are currently painted would clash with either dress I plan to wear. So...I'm off to buy some NEW polish. It's either that or wear another outfit with shoes where my toes don't show...


I can't help it, though. I just have to match!

I'm feeling old. A kid I used to baby-sit is getting married this weekend in town and having the reception at a swanky restaurant. (of course I'm going!!)

My younger sisters, in their 20's want to go out. I don't go out much. I don't dance. (in public) I drink and play shuffleboard or shoot darts. Have been known to play trivia games as well. I don't even know where to take them!

Even when I WAS that young, I guess I wasn't that young. I was always making sure my friends made it home from the party. In college, I was more "den mother" than "party girl".

I'm going to do my best to be young of heart and try to find a fun place to go on Friday night. Maybe I'll just need to take a nap first.

Today when I walked into work there was a sign posted on the outer door that there would be an "Emergency Evacuation Drill" today. What is that? Is it like a fire drill? Fire drills where what we had back in grade school, high school, and even college.

This, I had the feeling, is something different now. Something more extreme. Somehow, I don't think we'd all file out in an orderly and meandering fashion if it were something more extreme (the word sinister keeps coming to mind). We'd all beat a path to our cars and head home, or for the hills.

We also have what are called "safety wardens". They are noticed by their green reflective vests. I assume it is their job to count the people in their area and make sure they all make it to the meeting spot marked in blue to correspond to the color pained on the columns around our department.

Due to the reconstruction of our immediate department, we have no safety warden, I noticed. Who would make sure our little sheep were all flocked together?

One of the safety wardens after their top secret safety warden meeting came down right to my desk and said they might need volunteers for our area.

Am I that transparent? Because I would do it. I really would.

I was a safety patrol officer in grade school. Plus I'd get a vest AND a flashlight. Now if they could throw a bullhorn in, that would be PERFECT!

I'm not mustering up one iota of sympathy for Brittany Spears.

I can't even see certain celebrities anymore in a movie or on television without instantly being reminded of how whiny, silly, entitled, obnoxious, or stupid they can act.

I should be able to separate the "art" from the "artist" here, but I don't see many artists anymore.

I must admit to being an action movie fan, but I have to be in the right mood. I love James Bond, I love Die Hard, I love crazy stunts, swordfights, car chases, escapes, jumps off of buildings, grappling hook/repelling stunts, all kinds of stunts.

I will probably see the new Superman movie because I love Kevin Spacey. Even the new James Bond one looks good.


And hearing Kelsey Grammer done up as "The Beast" say "Oh my stars and garters"...Well that had me laughing so hard! I think I was the only one laughing like that. It made me recall a college professor who was also a nun who used to say that too!

Never before has a movie subtitled "The Last Stand" left so many open ended character demises, though. Lots of strings to unravel.

I found that it's just as important to take my sister to buy cigarettes as it was to be up at the hospital after my dad's endoscopy. She doesn't live here and so doesn't know where anything is.

Keeping those who will and do take the most care of him sane is key.

Plus, I hate hospitals, though everyone up there was super nice.

note to self:

85% cocoa chocolate bars are NOT meant for eating out of hand.

Someone I work with was just recently sworn in as an American citizen. All the "why would you want to do that?" jokes aside, she's really proud. And I think that's awesome.

I want to feel proud like that. About being American. Some days I am. Some days I can see the potential, and the tolerance, love, acceptance, charity, generosity and selfless attitude all around me.

Some days, not so much.

When I was a little girl, I can remember Tupperware parties, and the Avon lady coming to visit my mother. That's it for "in home businesses" run primarily by women. At least that I recall.

Now though, it seems there is an explosion of "at home party type" opportunities of buying and selling things. And, it's times like these, I believe it's at one's detriment to be a girl.

Girls get invited to the chef parties, the food dippy-spicy tasting parties, the makeup parties, the spa parties, the jewelry parties, the purse parties, the "toy" parties...I get antsy just thinking about it! And of course, like any good guest, I feel compelled to buy things from the hostess. To get her free stuff. Yeah, that's it.

Between those things and the bridal shower scam, or what I like to call having to buy TWO gifts BECAUSE I'm a girl, sometimes I find I just wind up spending more money than the guys I know. I know I can say no, I know I can just not go, and I do that sometimes.

It's just that, sometimes I just feel like the deck is stacked against me and there's no way I can come out on top. No matter how much I resist.

I'm sure it's all in my head, though.

If a person is abrasive and harping on everyone, an equal opportunity annoyer, is that better than being a two-faced liar? Someone who compliments you sweetly and then turns around to cut you up?

I think so. At least with the abrasive person, you usually know where you stand. I'm a firm believer that people won't tease you, pick on you, give you hell, etc if they don't on some level like you. You simply wouldn't be worth their time.


Conversely, I find that while all compliments are wonderful, often where they come from makes them even more meaningful. Like the female impersonator who complimented me on my makeup.

Mel, wherever you are, I'm thinking of you today, and hope you are well. :)

I always thought it would be attention-getting and great to be mysterious and quiet and enigmatic and hard to figure out. Thing is, that takes a lot of maintenance. So, I've settled for being more easy to read, pleasant and open.

I could still wear feather boas and cool embroidered shawls and look like I was dressed for high tea or something. Having people wonder "who is she" or "where is she going"? would be kind of cool.

I don't have any feather boas or embroidered shawls, though. I think a Jimmy Stewart movie does sum me up pretty well. I just want people to be happy and things to go as they ought. They aren't and they don't so often though. Doesn't stop me the wanting nor dreaming it so.

I am amazed to discover that I have been an optimist underneath it all. Underneath depression and anger, angst and disillusionment, anxiety and fear, was this core, this heart that saw the flowers blooming, the sun shining, the world turning. She just got lost in traffic for a while.

What Classic Movie Are You?
personality tests by similarminds.com

4 green peppers at 50 cents each, $2.00
1 pound of freshly snapped asparagus, $2.50
1 basket of Michigan strawberries, $1.50
1 bag of fresh tomato jalapeno pita bread, $2.50
1 basket of small red potatoes, $1.50


shopping locally at the Farmer's Market......


C'mon, do I really have to say it?

Priceless

In this book I'm reading (that's a whole 'nother post) that I don't really LOVE, but I want to finish because I'm stubborn like that; there was a statement made (and I'm not quoting because I don't really love the book and want to talk about it and I don't have it here) that says something like ...."The more evolved we get, the more barbaric our entertainment becomes".

That kind of stuck with me. Not in the gladiator in an arena sense, but in the sometimes we enjoy watching others hurt and suffer sense. Well, maybe "we" isn't the right term because I don't enjoy watching that.

People seem to really love television shows where contestants are belittled and insulted. They think it's funny. I think it's hurtful. I wind up feeling sorry for the person. I don't watch any of those shows. The fact that they are called "reality shows" is amusing. They do have lower production costs. They go get a lot of people watching. But they are as far from any reality I've ever experienced as the moon is from my apartment. How is putting people into a forced situation to do things that are difficult "reality"?

Shows like Intervention or 1940's House are more appropriately called reality television. They are real things happening or re-enactments of real things that did happen to real people. Those are the kind of programs I want to watch. Whether or not things end well, I feel I've taken a journey, learned something and gotten in touch with my compassion for those who have a harder road than I.

I shudder to see what will come on television next. Public executions? Autopsies? Abuse "caught on tape?"

I'm grateful for the DVD player, I'll say that much. I can regulate what I see and how much of it I see.

I picked up what we call at work the "must answer" line. That means when a person hits "0" on their keypad instead of leaving a voicemail, the call bounces out and rings to all of the phones in my department.

"May I help you?" I ask.

"Yes, I'd like to talk to Ms. So and So OR Mrs. Such and Such, and I DON'T want voicemail", the guy says in a snotty voice.

I look at my watch, it's 12:40, it's lunch hour. "neither one is in just now", I say. "Such and Such is at lunch and she'll be back within the hour, So and So is out and her office light is off, so I don't know if she'll be back." I say.

"Don't you keep track of people there?" he says.

"I don't report to So and So (she's my boss' boss) sir, so she doesn't usually tell me where she's going."

I'm trying not to be snippy, but if you call almost any office between the hours of 12 and 1, it seems to me the chances of getting voicemail are HIGHER. But maybe that's just me.

"So they'll both be back this afternoon", he says.
"I believe so, yes." I say.

"Thanks for all your help." He says in that snotty tone of voice that lets me know he doesn't mean a word of it.

sheesh.
No wonder I hate talking on the phone.

I should have transferred him to a fax machine.

Dear Person in the Buick;

Do you see those yellow lines in the middle of the street, on either side of that lane in the middle of the road? It's something we like to call the LEFT TURN LANE. If you anticipate that you'll be turning left, you use that lane to slow down and indicate that you will indeed be turning left. Please, don't do it in the flow of traffic while you are dithering about which medical building you need to go in for your appointment.

PEOPLE ARE BEHIND YOU TRYING TO GET TO WORK! I know it may come as a surprise, but yes, indeed, there are other drivers on the road around you.

Your assistance in this matter would be appreciated.

Thank You.

Me.

I am not a clothes horse, nor a big time shopper by any means. In fact, the older I get, the less I like to just browse. Coupled with that though, as I get older, I find I'm fussier about my shoes. I can't wear those cheap ones that cost $15 anymore. I have hard to fit feet and have spent too many days in shoes that "sort of" fit.

I found a couple of pairs of shoes yesterday for about $39 each. These were both in clearance type stores, so the shoes had both originally been priced at least double that amount, each. I think this is a great find. I think I'm pretty darn smart and spiffy. I think I'm in love with shoes that don't pinch or rub or make me want to walk barefoot.

At the same time, though, there is a small feeling of guilt. "Are you sure you should spend that much?", that voice inside my head says. "Shut up!", I say. I am worth it. Plus if I add up how many times I have to replace the cheap shoes, the shoes I just bought are actually the better investment.

Wow. I must be maturing. Or something. I just called my shoes an investment.

Or maybe that's just a justification for buying nicer things. It's not like I'm racking up credit card debt on $300 shoes like Carrie Bradshaw or something.

Often, in a television show or movie, I see a person in a hospital, talking on their cell phone. They are sometimes just outside the patient's room, or in a hallway outside the room, or in a corridor. I know it's for dramatic effect good news "he's out of the coma!", or bad news "the virus has liquefied her liver", but all for the advancement of the plot.

I know this is all horribly fake. I know this because I was nearly impaled in a hospital cafeteria by a woman who worked there. "Are you talking on the PHONE?" she acted like I was emptying a vial of e-coli into the food or something. I had seen people on their cell phones all through the hallway, even though the signs said NOT to. I figured the cafeteria, away from the area where patients were, would be safe. Evidently not.

I hate that feeling of being singled out like that, everyone turns to stare. It immediately makes me feel like I'm a kid and I'm in trouble. (that didn't happen that much, so I find I still blush or get really self conscious) I hung up, turned my phone off and went outside to continue to share the good news of my newly arrived niece.

So when I watch TV shows or movies with scenes like that, I just tsk tsk them. It's just another in a long line of fallacies (like the speedy results of DNA tests) that have us thinking things are one way, when they really aren't.

It's on TV, though, it MUST be true, right?

Why is it that people I don't hear from in weeks can take the time to forward me some really stupid, idiotic quiz or chain e-mail (don't break the chain!!) (chain mail?) but they can't take two seconds to actually WRITE a note saying, Hi I'm fine, how are you?

I seriously can't believe I saw this. At a family oriented outdoor festival with thousands of people present; a guy pushing a stroller (with other adults in his group doing the same) wearing a T shirt that says "I heart Hot Moms".

ugh.

I don't care, sir, if you do like hot moms. That's between you and them. It's just tacky and tasteless.

But then again, I think that designers and clothing companies should pay ME for the privilege of using the premium display area on my chest. I prefer things like souvenir T shirts from a winery I visited or "I heart NY". Sure, someday that Tommy guy or Old Navy will be knocking on my door for the exclusive permission to put their logo across my boobies.

It could happen.

Meanwhile, people, T shirts like that (or the other one I saw that said "Getting Lucky in Kentucky"...Why for the love of all that is sunny, would anyone WANT to??) may seem funny on the rack but please, just do us all a favor and leave them there!

eesh. Times like these remind me why people in general just annoy the crap out of me.

I'd forgotten how much I love the TV show, Benson. I used to watch it when it was on the first run time. I love the biting sarcasm. The way the main character barks or nips at his co-workers, and yet he's found endearing. I love that he says what he thinks, calls 'em like he sees 'em and just snips at that housekeeper, Kraus all the time. It's kind of funny to see the inner workings of a political machine, and how the governor was a noodle, but he surrounded himself with people who knew what they were doing.

A bit of trivia, who knew two stars from Benson would wind up in the Star Trek world. One in Voyager and one in Deep Space Nine? What utter, geeky fun.

Volunteering at a local arts festival to help with a kids' activity booth was fun, but the downpour after I was done, trying to enjoy the festival was NOT. I did get some food, though. Might have to go back tomorrow to check it out again.

Meanwhile, I've rented the entire first season of Alias. I love watching Sydney Bristow kick butt. It helps me want to work out more, too.

However, an afternoon of standing on cement has me feeling like a little old lady just now. The sofa calls!

I think I need professional help. I've reached the 200 book limit in Library Thing and all my books aren't in there yet.

Question is, do I spring for the membership ($10) to finish?

I shouldn't. But it's not DONE. And that will gnaw at me.

*sigh*

It's creepy how much bigger bugs look in the morning when I don't have my glasses on. Had to get one on the bathroom floor. But I had to get my glasses first to see what I was dealing with.

Eww...Another not so good thing about living alone.

I really don't like talking on the phone. Even at home. I have the type of job that I have to call people, answer the phone, and try to take messages when my co-workers are out. Often trying to glean what the caller wants or needs is an exercise in detective work. I'm not sure why this is.

Are we really so bad at communicating? Are we so used to talking to those in our circle, and having them understand what we mean even when we don't use the right words? I think this is true.

I can't blame the people who aren't into "business speak" or "corporate speak" when they don't understand what we are trying to explain. But often, I don't understand how better to break it down.

I look forward to the day's end when I can go home and NOT answer my phone if I don't want to. It's one of the many joys of living alone.

That and eating right out of the ice cream container.

Murray Hotel 


Here's where we stayed for my birthday/Kentucky Derby weekend. It was fun, romantic, rustic, old, just opened for the season, no cable, the restaurant wasn't open, but we had a great time. He had told me we were going camping. The ice machine wasn't working. That's close, isn't it?

I bought my beau tickets to see one of his favorite performers, Willie Nelson, for his birthday. He's so excited, it's kind of cute.

I'm lucky, in that I've gotten to see most of my favorite performers. I think it's great, though to get to do that for someone else. Especially someone who is A) a big fan and B) a person they've never seen.

I must say, I myself am not a huge fan of Willie, but I know I'll enjoy being there with my special guy. It's fun going someplace with someone who REALLY enjoys that place, whatever it may be. The enthusiasm just spills over. Like the time I took him to the classic car museum, and when I turned away, he was on the floor under the "first front wheel drive" car, checking it out!

He makes me laugh, and enjoy life so much more than I used to.

It's one of the many things I love about him.

I live in an apartment with a balcony. The balcony overlooks a woodsy area. It's not really that many trees, but it was always just enough in spring and summer to blot out the view of houses, cars and the street below, down the hill. It made me feel like I was in my own private little space. It made the deck a place of refuge and some quiet, unless one of my neighbors was playing their music really loudly.

A couple of weekends ago, one of the people who lives on the street below (it's kind of down a slopey ledge from my building) cut down some trees in what is their backyard. It was loud. I looked out there, kind of grumbling, but saw that the trees were dead. They needed to come down.

Now I can not only see the back of that house and garage, but the house across the street from them. It's the kind of thing that feels like an invasion of my privacy. They won't likely notice from the street. Others in my building might not likely notice, as it seems many don't sit out on their decks.

It's a hole in my bubble, it seems, and the world can see in.

It's about as I'd expected. Sometimes fun, sometimes annoying, sometimes a bitch, sometimes I was smiling.

And we won't have another reunion for at least another couple of years.

Bonus side, I got to see my niece. A lot. She's so cute and smart and clever and happy and sunny. Almost makes me want one of my own. Almost.

It was friggin' hot though. Usually this particular holiday weekend in Michigan is rainy and cold. So at least I wasn't trapped in a lodge off a dirt road in the middle of nowhere with 40 or so of my family members.

It feels good to be home. Yay for A/C!!

Does misery love company? I believe so. I remember feeling sad and depressed a lot of the time and that spilling over onto everything in my life. After a while, people didn't want to be around me very much.

It took me a long while to work my way out of that funk. It was like a crutch, a way I defined myself. Identified myself. I let myself get angry, and then I felt much better, lighter, free. I had stepped into the sunlight.

I suppose now I am sensitive to others who do this. I don't think they always realize they are doing it. I didn't.

Some people want to change. Some don't. My heart goes out to those who are still shrouded in darkness. I realize I need to be supportive, but it's tough to draw the line between those who want to wallow, and those who truly want to change.

After all, the definition of insanity is: doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result.

Thing is, it seems some of us can bang our head against a brick wall a lot longer than others.

The other day, the fire alarms went off where I work. They are nifty and annoying and have that bright white flashing light. Most of us (near where I was sitting anyway) went outside to our designated area like good little soldiers. Others waited inside to see if it was a false alarm.

It was.

The local fire department was draining the hydrants, and when our building's system noted a drop in water pressure, it triggered the alarm, which then, needs to be approved by the local fire department that there is NO threat.

I figured it was better to be safe than sorry. Plus it was a nice day outside.

I can't believe people would rather work and/or stand around looking out the window to see what is going on, than just get out of the building.

It's just a job, people. And not one of life and death importance, either.

sheesh.

For the first time in my life, I actually bought real Parmesan cheese and grated it over my pasta. None of that stuff in the shaker, none of that pre-grated stuff from the deli.

Is that ever excellent. I'm officially a convert. Never again will I buy anything less.

Small chunks of it aren't even that expensive, and I can grate them with my microplane grater.

I feel rather silly for this, it's very simple. But for whatever reason, I never tried this. I hate to waste things, if I had some of another type of cheese I wouldn't throw it away even though it smelled terrible and had a waxy texture.

Just another example of a little properly spent money going a long way.

*smacks hand to forehead*

AND I'm Italian, too!

I'm a little frustrated. My college alma mater keeps trying to contact me, they say for some alumni directory, but what they want is money. I get stuff in the mail and telephone calls (one of which had them asking me for an email address). Do I want electronic harassment as well? I think not.

Not that I'm not grateful, and not that I don't realize there are students in need, but it took me 10 years to pay off my student loans! Plus I'm not really working in my field, not that that's their fault, I mean Art History isn't that marketable without an advanced degree, but they didn't tell me that, either.

I try to be polite on the phone, but they will just keep going down in denomination. If you can't give $150, what about $75?

What about NO?

I'm just not getting why Sydney had to lose both of her parents. Hasn't the poor girl suffered enough?

Killing Arvin Sloane twice was pretty excellent, though.


In other news I tried really hard not to laugh today. I was in the locker room at the Y when this little girl asked her mom why she had to change in front of everyone. "They can all see my butt", she said. "Locker rooms are just like that", her mom said.

I mumbled, "Everyone has a butt". The mom laughed.

I have a family reunion coming up this weekend.

I have mixed feelings about it, and I'm trying to hope for the best, and keep my expectations low. I have family in the same state where I am that I don't see very often, and others coming from out east that I see even less. I'm not especially close to them nor have tons in common, but I make the effort to find things to talk about, and compare, and laugh and smile.

But sometimes there is so much drama that some bring to the table. It's hard to escape that sometimes, even if I don't stand next to those people.

Most of me doesn't want to go. Part of me knows it's the right thing to do, and all of me is going. At least for a while.

I have this quirk, even when watching a bad or stupid movie (or at least one I think is so...) once invested, I stick with it until the end.

I don't particularly enjoy these introspective movies that have little or no resolution. I prefer my characters to either have a realization or not.

I watched "The WeatherMan" last night. I guess I just didn't get it.

Plus, watching a chubby pre-teenager is really painful. Hello, that was me. Sometimes it still is.

This guy's life just seemed rather f-ed up, if you know what I mean. I didn't see any great realization or movement, a subtle one, perhaps, and that was supposed to make me hope, I suppose.

I guess we don't usually make dramatic extreme makeover types of changes in our lives, not really. It is the small movements and attempts and challenges that we rise to that form us.

Still, perhaps it was a little too much like life, and I was hoping for a little more of an escape.

Nicholas Cage is pretty diverse, though. He's done a lot of things, and I always enjoy seeing what he's gotten up to this time.

Still puzzling on that movie...Maybe it wasn't a total waste of time.

All I could think of to say today is something that's very self involved. It made me feel good, though.

As long as I can remember, when it was important to be pretty, I was the smart one. In high school, in college. After a while, I let go of the fantasy of someone seeing me and thinking I was beautiful, wanting to get to know me. I realized I didn't have that allure.

Being smart, though, I knew I would always have that, even after beauty faded.

Yesterday, I got up, put my hair into pigtails, got dressed, and went about my day. Not sure why I did that, but it was going to be warm, and I wanted to go to the garden center to get some plants, and knew I'd be busy, wanted my hair out of the way and off my neck.

As I walked through, looking at the plants, to case everything, a man was looking at me so intently, he tripped over the orange cone they'd placed at the corners of the plant sections, so people wouldn't walk on the plants.

I giggled to myself. That's never happened before, at least not that I noticed. It made me feel powerful, attractive, strong and wonderful. The power of beauty, knowing one is beautiful, and that it impacts others around them is a heady thing.

I can see how the pretty girls let it rule them, seeming to let other pursuits fall by the wayside.

I know it's temporary and I didn't let it go to my head. Well, maybe just for a minute.

I am torn between being "good" and sticking to my eating and exercise plan and just "going with the flow". I was invited out to lunch today, dinner this evening and dinner again tomorrow night. I love eating at great restaurants, and spending time with my family and friends. I more or less become a hermit in the winter months, so this is a real treat for me, and I'm feeling more social than I have in a while.

Trouble is, I tend to "give myself free reign" when eating at a restaurant, sure have the bread, sure split a dessert. It's tough. But I don't think anyone looks back on their life and says to themselves..."I think I ate too many desserts".

And the salmon with hoisin sauce was yummy.

My car, the color officially being called "Black Gold", a gold metallic undertone to the black color, appears to be a bird doo magnet.

It's been raining here, though, off and on for a week. I have been putting off getting it washed, because, well, you know. But then when I wait, it gets MORE stuff on it.

eesh.

I wonder, is there some sort of "visible only to birds" target on it? The last episode happened when it wasn't even parked under a tree!

Just a random ramble here, but odd nonetheless.

I'll admit it, I was wrong.

I always say, the book is better than the movie, the movie is never even CLOSE.

I just watched the movie "In Her Shoes". I thought it would be good for Mother's Day. While I had pretty low expectations, I enjoy the three main actresses, Toni Colette, Cameron Diaz, and the incomparable, Shirley MaClaine.

Wow. It had all the sister moments, driven by love and hate. It had all the stepfamily moments, the father who lost his bride, and never quite recovered, resulting in a family that is never quite mended. The older sister, driven to perfection of pleasing who, she isn't quite sure. I can relate a little to closely to all of these things.

It made me laugh, it made me cry, it broke my heart and mended it again, all in the span of the movie.

It was wonderful.

I thought of my grandmother today. Not just because it's mother's day, but because I was channel-surfing and saw "Soul Train" on. She used to watch it. Yes, I can clearly recall being at Grandma's house, and on Saturday afternoons, she would have it on in the den while she bustled about the kitchen, dashing back in to see it. My German grandmother, watching "Soul Train".

Perhaps things like that are part of what kept her young. She wanted to see her grandchildren's tattoos, piercings, and hear about and see the latest movies. She was always open and interested in everything we had to tell her. She never judged us, but occasionally would let us know she was disappointed in something, like us not finishing a college degree.

She died in October, and I do miss her. I miss going to see her, getting cards from her, picking out cards to send her, and just knowing there was always a hug waiting for me, full of unconditional love.

Happy Mother's Day.

By the time I got to the farmer's market this morning, well it was noonish. And raining. So there weren't many vendors, but a good amount of customers milling around. Had it not been raining, I would have bought some pansies to plant. And marigolds.

As it was, I got green peppers for 50 cents each and a red pepper for 75 cents. A loaf of whole grain bread was a bit much at 4 dollars, but it has a sweet flavor and lovely dense texture. It's a round loaf, sliced up so that the middle slices are long. I can cut them in half to make sandwiches.

I felt good buying things there, and it helps to get out to places like that. When it's really crowded, I get kind of panicky. So it's good practice. It's like claustrophobia but outside, with too many people. I plan to go back as often as I can. The asparagus was much too big, didn't look very tender. I just have to make a point to get my bum out of bed in the morning.

The rain makes me want to lie on the couch and watch TV. I had "The Big Night" from Netflix. aaah, the food, the wine, the music. It's truly an underrated gem with Tony Shaloub and Stanley Tucci. Before Monk, that is.

Ah, now it's back on the very straight and narrow. To finally beat this weight thing once and for all, to show it who is the boss!! I know I can do it, but for some reason there is a bit of me that seems not to want to. I think it's scared.

I have the best of intentions. I've had them for years now. I want to volunteer to do things like build houses for Habitat for Humanity. To be a Big Sister. To help clean up the community, plant gardens, help folks who can't get out and do their own yardwork. To donate my clothes to women who really need them, and not to someplace that will sell them.

Trouble is, I wind up never having the opportunity nor time nor know exactly how to get into these things.

There is an opportunity here at work to volunteer for something. Something they do every year. It's not really a charity event. It's a big annual thing and this place gets free publicity from being all over the news and such. It's more of a community event.

Personally, that's not my idea of charity. So I don't volunteer. Maybe that makes me "not a team player", but I don't care. I figure it's up to me how I spend my volunteer time (though some of this takes place during the work day) and this isn't my idea of how I want to represent myself.

What irks me is sometimes they get "high pressure" about it, offering prizes to the area that has the most volunteers. gah

it's like bribery. But they call it volunteering.

It's raining today. I awoke to a premonition of what my future may be like. I ached all over. My joints hurt. My knee with runner's knee hurts a bit. I wanted to crawl back into bed. My back hurt, my shoulder blades ached.

It's going to suck getting old.

Speaking of which...My Grandpa fractured his hip. I'm sending out good and healing vibes. And soon, a card.

*looks around for her Alleve*
..Hums...What a drag it is getting old...

Whenever they have free food at work, there is a mass exodus in that general direction.

Then I silently make a "mooing" noise to myself. The stampede begins!!

I've got fruit though. And coffee, and juice. I just waited for the stampede to end.

I always think when I say goodbye to someone, be it someone who lives across town or several hours away, "did I make sure they know how much I treasure and love them?"

Is that goofy? Or just overly emotional?

I have lost some very dear loved ones over the course of my life. A mother and a grandmother, among others. But those are the losses that shape my actions now.

I don't mean to sound sad or want sympathy. I just strive to understand myself.

I want to be sure I let people know how much they mean to me, or how proud I am of them, or how fortunate I am to have them in my life. Everyone teaches me something. To be patient, to be more optimistic, to be more flexible and live in the moment...

I am a work in progress, and I am grateful for the gift of so many to learn from. Just as I am sure they likely learn from me. How to be detail oriented or perhaps my seemingly limitless cache of random movie trivia?

I just replay those "last time I saw that person" moments in my head and hope that last kiss, hug or murmured words truly hit their mark. And will hold until I see that person again.

I must admit for all my b*tching, I had a wonderful birthday weekend. My lovely beau took me away someplace here that is typically touristy. This time of year, however, it wasn't really busy. It was beautiful, sunny, but a bit chilly. I'd much rather go this time of year than in the heat of summer, as we all did when we were kids.

We ate at restaurants, went on a carriage tour, watched the Kentucky Derby, it was blissful.

Except for the double rather than promised queen size beds, lack of ice machine and no cable in the hotel, that is. It's amazing how much I'm addicted to things like being able to check the weather at any time or seeing news updates.

I wouldn't trade it for the world, though. Hands down, the best birthday I can recall in a long time.

Now he heads back to his home today. But I got him Willie Nelson tickets for his birthday, and the concert is July 10. So he'll HAVE to come back soon :)
It's not so much a deliberate manipulation as it is one of his very favorite perfomers. I love concerts myself, and have been fortunate enough to be able to see most of my favorite perfomers over the years. I just want to share that with him. But then again, that means I have to go as well. Should be interesting.

I think this means, birthday or not, I'm growing up.

Is it rude to NOT want to repeat myself when someone keeps NOT being able to hear me? It gets really old after that person insists they don't need their hearing checked and only seem to have a problem around me.

I'm trying to be understanding. But mostly I wind up saying, "never mind, it doesn't matter." The thing is, it did matter, even if it was me babbling or talking about my new coffeemaker. It did matter or I wouldn't have said it in the first place.

I love him, but things like this make me a little bit unbalanced. Oh, and the smoking thing.

I'm doing my best, but understand if we did live together, things would have to change. Or at least an attempt.

Why does that make me sound b*tchy?

I was willing to change, to quit smoking, to begin to exercise to be healthier and try to lose weight. I don't think it's too much to ask that we BOTH do these things. If it's best for me, why can't it be the best for both of us?

I love him, I just want him to be around for a while.

I'd just like to say that there surely isn't nor will there ever be an actress like Katherine Hepburn. Yes, I've been watching some of her movies on my Netflix queue. Especially the ones with Spencer Tracy.

These days, everyone seems homogenized, tummy tucked, yed and plucked. I appreciate any woman or anyone who celebrates what they are and enhances that rather than trying to make themselves look like everyone else.

Plus, she had to fight to wear pants. We don't even KNOW what that's like. We take so much for granted. I think today's Hollywood has really lowered our expectations of entertainment. Unless we start to demand more, it will just get worse.

It's no secret, I love to eat. I love food. I love cooking, baking, eating, trying new things, cooking new things. I love to cook at home or try new restaurants.

I find, though, that food that's just so-so at a restaurant will be touted by someone I meet or know casually through work as "really great".

I wonder, are our expectations lower? Am I a food snob? I can usually make something tastier and better than what I've had at some places. People's recommendations often fall flat of my expectations.

Maybe we've had bad food so long, we don't know any better.

As a general rule, I try to stay to the local places rather than chains. Sometimes when meeting friends or family though, and others choose, one is subjected to that choice.

I'll just keep telling them where the better Italian food is, and then they can taste the difference for themselves.

I'm going to be honest here, I don't do well with surprises. My beau (the word boyfriend sounds so 7th grade) is taking me away for the weekend, but he won't tell me where. I know he's made reservations, which is good because I am a planner. I don't tend to just go someplace out of town and not know what is coming next.

I know we'll be out of town, I know we'll be in the same state. That's about it.

I'm making the effort to savor the moment, as he's been teasing me we'll go very rustic camping. (like, away from the car for a few days, out in the middle of nowhere camping) that is NOT my cup of tea, and he knows that. So I'm going along with his "rent-a-tent" and double sleeping bag and "johnny on the spot" comments.

I am sure it will be fun, whatever we do. As my bonus mom says..."Surprises are good for you."

I don't know about that, but I'm sure it will be a memorable birthday. I don't like people to make a fuss over my birthday, but this is kind of a nice feeling.