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.