When someone tells me they don’t like scotch, I tell them they are drinking the wrong scotch. They’ve probably had a blended scotch, a nasty concoction of several whiskies stirred up into a pretty bottle. But a single malt scotch is a beautiful thing. It’s a caramel-colored, complex, slightly smoky liquid that warms you from the tip of your nose to the tip of your toes.
Of course, different areas of Scotland produces different scotches. The Lowlands produce a soft, malty whisky (that’s whisky without an “e” please). Glenkinchie is an example. The Highlands, being the largest area, produce mostly a drier whisky, sometimes with a hint of peat. Glenmorangie and Oban are popular Highland whiskies. Speyside produces a softer, elegant whisky, and is the home of The Glenlivet and Glenfarclas. And, leaving what I consider the best for last, is Islay, a 25-mile long island that is the home to such wonderfully peaty-scotch distilleries as Bowmore, Laphroaig, Lagavulin, and Ardbeg.
One of the best places to find out what you like, if you don’t have a great bar like the Dundee Dell like we do here in Omaha, is to go to WhiskyFest in Chicago. Sponsored by Malt Advocate magazine, this kid-in-a-candy-store event is a celebration of all things whisky—Scotch, Irish, Bourbon and Blended. Malt Advocate also has a WhiskyFest in New York and London, but this one is more attainable to me, personally, so this is the one we went to. And although the real target audience is distributors and buyers, they were just as friendly and helpful to us consumers.
The doors into the Grand Ballroom at the Hyatt Regency Downtown Chicago opened at 6:30, and we flooded in, eyes bulging and not knowing where to start. Ever been to a Home Show? That’s what this was like, only instead of row after row of tables and booths of landscaping and tiling options, it was all whisky. And, thank God, there were two huge buffets on each side of the room with pasta, roast beef, and muchies. Malt Advocate was nice enough to give everyone a spiral notebook for notetaking with a map of the tables, but it sat unused in my goodie bag. That takes way too much planning. And way too much sober organizational skills, although I saw some people using them.
So, we started on the right. We decided we’d start with some things we hadn’t tried before. We went to Connemara Irish Whiskey (this time, you may use the “e.”). They had 4 different whiskeys to try! Holy Cow, one table and I’m done! Actually, I wasn’t, but that would have been the smart thing to do because nothing tasted as good as this first taste. Oh, it tasted really good, but that first sip, mmmmmmmmm.
Then the trolling began. With tasting glass in hand, (Malt Advocate also supplied lovely engraved glasses), we worked our way around the room. Even though we didn’t have to drive anywhere, I took it easy. Alcohol and my medication don’t get along too well, and I don’t fancy a liver transplant. Besides, this was Hubby’s Christmas present, and as the night went on, it became obvious my role would be as support: support walking, support getting back to the room, support worshipping the ol’ porcelain altar, and so on.
What all did we, or he, try? Penderyn, Bunnahabhain (the rare example of a good blended Scotch from Islay), Old Potrero, Anchor Brewing (a little break from whisky), Santa Teresa Rum, Unibroue Beer, Goose Island Brewing, The Glenrothes, Tullamore Dew, Suntory Yamazaki (Japanese is a growing Scotch producer. It’s a little sweeter than Scotland’s), Wild Scotsman, Compas Box (Oranerie was amazing! And I don’t like sweet drinks.), Dewar’s (actually gave samples of the $200 bottle and gave out cigars), Buffalo Trace, Glenfarclas, Woodford Reserve (still my favorite bourbon), Balvenie, and Maker’s Mark. And those are just the booths we actually visited, and each booth had about 4 different bottles to try. We decided not to go to Laphroaig, Ardbeg, Glenfiddich, and others that we know well and have at home.
Other little treats were Jim Murray, autographing copies of his Whiskey Bible, and Ian Gray, a self-titled “Whisky Artist.” He had prints of his watercolors of distilleries on Islay and some new ones of Woodford Reserve in Kentucky. He signed them and talked about living in a camper van and painting. We bought 2, one depicting Ardbeg Distillery and one depicting Bowmore barrels. They are a wonderful souvenir of the evening.
By 9:30, we were pretty much done. Hubby was really done. Less than an hour earlier, he had been boasting about how Scotch isn’t the same as drinking other alcohol—he was fine, he just couldn’t feel his tongue. Then we sat down for a few minutes to chat with some people, and that did it, he wasn’t able to walk any more. I went to the room to get cash to pay for the prints, and he said that someone asked him if he was OK. He said yes, but I decided no and steered him back to the room, holding on to his elbow, ever so gently maneuvering him down the hall and up the escalators, except for the times I actually had to hold him around the waist to bring him back in the right direction. Imagine an old man, arms bent at the elbows, closed fists, shuffling along, moving his arms back and forth with every step, that was Hubby.
I won’t go into the rest of the evening, you can use your imagination. He eventually slept. He woke up, took some Motrin, took a shower and announced it would be a long time before he drank again. He did make it to the Field Museum and Frontera Grill, but he was hurtin’. What a good sport.
So, will we go next year? Well, yeah! Now we know what to expect. Now we can plan our route and what we want to taste. Now we can plan to attend a seminar or two. Now we’ve got a year to recover. We’ll be ready!
Thursday, April 06, 2006
Wednesday, April 05, 2006
Sitting Next to You in the Plane
The plane to Chicago was one the smallest I've been in. One and two seats with a tiny little aile seaprating them. Remember the scene in Airport where the flight attendant hit everyone in the back of the head with the guitar as she walked down the aisle? Anyone with a shoulder bag was doing the same thing here.
Hubby was across from me, and I sat with a friendly, petite lady named Lesley. She was reading Don't Kiss Them Goodbye by Allison DuBois, of Medium fame. I told her I had read that book because I like stuff like that, but it was a little creepy at times. Not creepy in a "don't go into the mad scientist's house on Halloween" sort of creepy, but come on, she talks to dead people. That's kind of creepy.
But Lesley doesn't find it creepy--she finds it comforting. She'd like to be able to tak to her mom again, and it's comforting to her that there's something after death. Now, if I was a good Baptist I would have used this opportunity to witness to her about salvation through faith in Christ and the comfort she can find there in being reunited with loved ones. But I'm not Baptist, I'm Methodist, and we just don't do that kind of thing. Besides, I still have some questions about all that, myself.
Nor did I remind her that most of the spirits DuBois talks to are still here because there is some unfinished business here or they died by some kind of violence. So, personally, I think it's more comforting that maybe they've moved on to something better and there's no need to come back.
But I just don't know. There are some people I'd like to talk to again. And I started to think maybe Lesley had a point. Maybe that book is more comforting than creepy. Then she said she really liked Jonathan Edwards and wondered if his show was still on. Well, I can't think of John Edwards without thinking of the South Park episode about him. I decided she was a nutter and went back to the comfort and concrete reality of my Backpacker magazine.
Hubby was across from me, and I sat with a friendly, petite lady named Lesley. She was reading Don't Kiss Them Goodbye by Allison DuBois, of Medium fame. I told her I had read that book because I like stuff like that, but it was a little creepy at times. Not creepy in a "don't go into the mad scientist's house on Halloween" sort of creepy, but come on, she talks to dead people. That's kind of creepy.
But Lesley doesn't find it creepy--she finds it comforting. She'd like to be able to tak to her mom again, and it's comforting to her that there's something after death. Now, if I was a good Baptist I would have used this opportunity to witness to her about salvation through faith in Christ and the comfort she can find there in being reunited with loved ones. But I'm not Baptist, I'm Methodist, and we just don't do that kind of thing. Besides, I still have some questions about all that, myself.
Nor did I remind her that most of the spirits DuBois talks to are still here because there is some unfinished business here or they died by some kind of violence. So, personally, I think it's more comforting that maybe they've moved on to something better and there's no need to come back.
But I just don't know. There are some people I'd like to talk to again. And I started to think maybe Lesley had a point. Maybe that book is more comforting than creepy. Then she said she really liked Jonathan Edwards and wondered if his show was still on. Well, I can't think of John Edwards without thinking of the South Park episode about him. I decided she was a nutter and went back to the comfort and concrete reality of my Backpacker magazine.
Airport Attire
It never ceases to amaze me the number of people I see at the airport wearing inappropriate shoes. I understand it--Shoes are the hardest part of traveling for me. I'm vain, and I want those great looking shoes, not just good-walking shoes. But in the airport, survival wins over vanity.
Now, I love to fly. and I feel perfectly safe flying, but realistically, planes crash (OK, maybe that should have been "fatalistically"). But really realistically, planes have engine trouble and have to stop at the end of the runway, while you wait for a bus to take you to the airport. And planes run late, forcing you to have 15 minutes to get to the opposite end of the airport for your connecting flight. For these reasons, and more, flip-flops, slides, clogs, stilletos, and 3-inch spike heels are not good choices.
If I have to slide down an emergency exit to a hard, cold ground and run away from the flames of death, I need shoes that will take me away, not one that still look good after they brush away the ashes.
And when I'm running down the concourse to my next plane, I want to worry about holding down my breasts, not curling my toes to keep my shoes on or balancing to keep my ankles from turning.
So people! Put the sandals, flip-flops and Jimmy Choo's in your suitcase and show off your best pair of tennies! Or at least something low heeled that completely encloses your foot. Don't make me run over you.
Now, I love to fly. and I feel perfectly safe flying, but realistically, planes crash (OK, maybe that should have been "fatalistically"). But really realistically, planes have engine trouble and have to stop at the end of the runway, while you wait for a bus to take you to the airport. And planes run late, forcing you to have 15 minutes to get to the opposite end of the airport for your connecting flight. For these reasons, and more, flip-flops, slides, clogs, stilletos, and 3-inch spike heels are not good choices.
If I have to slide down an emergency exit to a hard, cold ground and run away from the flames of death, I need shoes that will take me away, not one that still look good after they brush away the ashes.
And when I'm running down the concourse to my next plane, I want to worry about holding down my breasts, not curling my toes to keep my shoes on or balancing to keep my ankles from turning.
So people! Put the sandals, flip-flops and Jimmy Choo's in your suitcase and show off your best pair of tennies! Or at least something low heeled that completely encloses your foot. Don't make me run over you.
I Hate Being on Medication
Damn it all to hell! I've been spitting nails for almost 2 weeks now. It's like being permanently PMSing! Most people get depressed and suicidal on this medication, but noooooooo, I become Diva Bitch.
OK, yes, Avonex will slow down the progression of MS and yes, the side effects will wear off to nothing, but damn. At this rate I'm going to have to live at a hotel because no one can stand to be around me--even me!
Welbutrin? Prozac? Lexapro? I just may have to add another pill to my daily regime.
Just thought I'd get that out of the way.
OK, yes, Avonex will slow down the progression of MS and yes, the side effects will wear off to nothing, but damn. At this rate I'm going to have to live at a hotel because no one can stand to be around me--even me!
Welbutrin? Prozac? Lexapro? I just may have to add another pill to my daily regime.
Just thought I'd get that out of the way.
Wednesday, March 29, 2006
Anticipating the Trip
For Christmas last year, I got hubby tickets for WhiskyFest in Chicago. I will never be able to top that gift. Actually, I could probably never give him anything else, and it would be ok. Not only did I get us the tickets, I reserved a room in the hotel it’s held at, so that all we have to do is crawl back up to our room. And, I ordered tickets for the Field Museum, so that all we have to do is walk up to the Will Call window, instead of standing in line forever with everyone else. This is something he has wanted to do for a long time, but we always had some excuse why we couldn’t go. I decided to stop making excuses and just do it. Yeah, it’s a chunk of money we could be spending on improvements on the house, but those improvements will be there when we get back. WhiskyFest may not!
Usually, the anticipation is the best part of anything for me. I daydream, I plan, I imagine how wonderful a trip will be. Then, reality hits. I have to do laundry, pack, make arrangements for the dog, stop the mail, stop the paper, get cash, get the hotel reservations, print out the airline reservations, gather the tourist information for what we’ve decided to do, and on and on and on. Errands ad nausia.
And then the nerves set in. We’re flying in, but not renting a car because we are going to Chicago. I’ve only been there once before, but I know we don’t want to drive a car in Chicago. So, we have to get to the hotel. There’s a shuttle to the hotel, but my first instinct is that hubby will complain about the cost. We could take a cab, but same as the shuttle. We could take the El, but it’s 4 blocks to the hotel and we will already be cutting it close to get there in time for the starting of the event. Plus, there’s no telling how long it will take us to figure out how to purchase tickets and then hope we get on the right train. My heart’s beating a little faster just thinking about that. I’ve never had to depend on public transportation, so I’m not really sure I can figure it out. I have a great fear of being lost and stranded. How can I be almost 40 and still be such a weenie?
But it will work out, and we will have a great time. I’m not a big scotch drinker, but this will be so much more than that. Just the same, I do kind of wish that my brother or some of Al’s friends were going with us so that he would have someone who can truly appreciate this event with him. I’m just excited about seeing men in kilts. Oh, and that we are going to eat at Frontera Gill. I’m excited about that! I’ve cooked so many Rick Bayless recipes, that it’ll be nice to let him cook for me.
Ooops. I hear the very polite “pings” of my dryer. One more load done and a couple more to go. Then packing. Then running errands. Then getting Daily’s stuff together . . .
Usually, the anticipation is the best part of anything for me. I daydream, I plan, I imagine how wonderful a trip will be. Then, reality hits. I have to do laundry, pack, make arrangements for the dog, stop the mail, stop the paper, get cash, get the hotel reservations, print out the airline reservations, gather the tourist information for what we’ve decided to do, and on and on and on. Errands ad nausia.
And then the nerves set in. We’re flying in, but not renting a car because we are going to Chicago. I’ve only been there once before, but I know we don’t want to drive a car in Chicago. So, we have to get to the hotel. There’s a shuttle to the hotel, but my first instinct is that hubby will complain about the cost. We could take a cab, but same as the shuttle. We could take the El, but it’s 4 blocks to the hotel and we will already be cutting it close to get there in time for the starting of the event. Plus, there’s no telling how long it will take us to figure out how to purchase tickets and then hope we get on the right train. My heart’s beating a little faster just thinking about that. I’ve never had to depend on public transportation, so I’m not really sure I can figure it out. I have a great fear of being lost and stranded. How can I be almost 40 and still be such a weenie?
But it will work out, and we will have a great time. I’m not a big scotch drinker, but this will be so much more than that. Just the same, I do kind of wish that my brother or some of Al’s friends were going with us so that he would have someone who can truly appreciate this event with him. I’m just excited about seeing men in kilts. Oh, and that we are going to eat at Frontera Gill. I’m excited about that! I’ve cooked so many Rick Bayless recipes, that it’ll be nice to let him cook for me.
Ooops. I hear the very polite “pings” of my dryer. One more load done and a couple more to go. Then packing. Then running errands. Then getting Daily’s stuff together . . .
Thursday, March 23, 2006
Let's Play a Game
I watched one of my favorite movies last night. See if you can guess it by some lines from it:
Is you, or is you not my constituents?
I've counted to three.
He's bonafide. He's a keeper.
I'm a Dapper Dan man.
I'm gonna r-u-n-n-o-f-t
(and this one is a dead give away)
We...thought you...was a toad
Know what it is? Seen it?
Is you, or is you not my constituents?
I've counted to three.
He's bonafide. He's a keeper.
I'm a Dapper Dan man.
I'm gonna r-u-n-n-o-f-t
(and this one is a dead give away)
We...thought you...was a toad
Know what it is? Seen it?
Wednesday, March 22, 2006
Still Not Relieved
By way of my brother, by way of fellow blogger Lisa, I bought Refuse to Choose by Barbara Sher. I was intrigued by the subtitle "A Revolutionary Program for Doing Everything that You Love." That would be quite the accomplisment because there is A LOT that I love. If I made a list of current hobbies and interests, along with what I want to persue but just haven't had the time, it would be so long that it would just depress me because I think there's no way I can do all that!
So, I may be a scanner. I fit her descriptions, some of them any way, especially the ones about wanting to do so many things that I don't do anything and once the discovery is over, I'm not interested and I move on. And I've always felt like there was something wrong with me and that I was inferior because of it. One time when I was telling my husband about one of my latest "maybe I should try" things, he was quiet and nonresponsive. When I asked him why he told me it's because I don't finish anything I start, so he doesn't have an opinion. Now, this was a long time ago. He's learned that being that honest with me is not a good idea.
But I thought he was right. And the result was two-fold: 1)I stopped thinking about all the different things I could do and 2) I stopped confiding in my husband what I was thinking and dreaming. (This is where everyone goes, "Oooohhhhh. That's sad.")
But after a while I realized, who was I kidding? I couldn't stop going in different directions and I couldn't stop telling my hubby about it. After all, why the hell did I marry him if I couldn't ramble on about nothing to him.
So, now here's a book saying that I'm a scanner and that it's OK. And it's possible to use it to my advantage. I haven't gotten very far into it yet, only about 40 pages, but I'm going to read the whole thing. Even though my pattern is to skim and jump around to the stuff that's interesting to me then put it away, never to think about it again. Yet another symptom of a scanner--all gung ho and excited to get started then lose interest when something else comes along.
Anyway, let's see how this goes. Then I'll pass it along to other scanners I know because I'll be knee-deep in some other project.
So, I may be a scanner. I fit her descriptions, some of them any way, especially the ones about wanting to do so many things that I don't do anything and once the discovery is over, I'm not interested and I move on. And I've always felt like there was something wrong with me and that I was inferior because of it. One time when I was telling my husband about one of my latest "maybe I should try" things, he was quiet and nonresponsive. When I asked him why he told me it's because I don't finish anything I start, so he doesn't have an opinion. Now, this was a long time ago. He's learned that being that honest with me is not a good idea.
But I thought he was right. And the result was two-fold: 1)I stopped thinking about all the different things I could do and 2) I stopped confiding in my husband what I was thinking and dreaming. (This is where everyone goes, "Oooohhhhh. That's sad.")
But after a while I realized, who was I kidding? I couldn't stop going in different directions and I couldn't stop telling my hubby about it. After all, why the hell did I marry him if I couldn't ramble on about nothing to him.
So, now here's a book saying that I'm a scanner and that it's OK. And it's possible to use it to my advantage. I haven't gotten very far into it yet, only about 40 pages, but I'm going to read the whole thing. Even though my pattern is to skim and jump around to the stuff that's interesting to me then put it away, never to think about it again. Yet another symptom of a scanner--all gung ho and excited to get started then lose interest when something else comes along.
Anyway, let's see how this goes. Then I'll pass it along to other scanners I know because I'll be knee-deep in some other project.
Dream Job
Taste tester for Ben and Jerry's ice cream. How do you get a job like that?!? I was just watching a special on the Travel Channel about ice cream palaces.
I want to go to Vermont. I want to work there--in R&D and Taste Testing, of course.
Actually, I'd be happy taste testing just about any ice cream. Espcially the chunky stuff. Every now and then I just want vanilla or vanilla with chocolate syrup, but usually, the more ya pile in it the better.
And on this show, the narrator was giving a list about things they put in ice cream, ending with "even pretzels." What's wrong with pretzels in ice cream? I loooooove pretzels in my ice cream.
Well now I'm having a craving. I'm the ultimate consumer--suggest it and I'll want it.
I want to go to Vermont. I want to work there--in R&D and Taste Testing, of course.
Actually, I'd be happy taste testing just about any ice cream. Espcially the chunky stuff. Every now and then I just want vanilla or vanilla with chocolate syrup, but usually, the more ya pile in it the better.
And on this show, the narrator was giving a list about things they put in ice cream, ending with "even pretzels." What's wrong with pretzels in ice cream? I loooooove pretzels in my ice cream.
Well now I'm having a craving. I'm the ultimate consumer--suggest it and I'll want it.
Tuesday, March 21, 2006
Over a Foot!
When the snow finally ended, we had over a foot. The roads are pretty clear, though, because they were so warm before the snow fell. It was really beautiful this morning. This picture is looking out our back door.
How Scared Must Bush Be
A news conference out of the blue? A blatant political move to boost the conservative cause in a time of important elections, that's what it was. Bush is the lowest he's been in the polls, the Republican are in real danger of losing their standing in upcoming state elections, and there is no front runner Republican for president. What's a good little boy to do? Why, go on TV and talk about how much good he's done and how much good conservatives have done and how we should keep the "conservative" course. I sure hope Americans are smart enough to see through this.
An article about the conference is here.
One of the money quotes for me when asked about a day there won't be a troops in Iraq: "That, of course, is an objective. And that will be decided by future presidents and future governments of Iraq," he said. Great. Throw us into this horrible war that you didn't realize would be going on this long and that things would stay so bad, but it won't be your problem to finish it. That'll be the next president. I think it's a tactical error because when I heard that quote I thought, "You're damn right it will be someone else's decision--a Democrat's decision!"
An article about the conference is here.
One of the money quotes for me when asked about a day there won't be a troops in Iraq: "That, of course, is an objective. And that will be decided by future presidents and future governments of Iraq," he said. Great. Throw us into this horrible war that you didn't realize would be going on this long and that things would stay so bad, but it won't be your problem to finish it. That'll be the next president. I think it's a tactical error because when I heard that quote I thought, "You're damn right it will be someone else's decision--a Democrat's decision!"
Monday, March 20, 2006
Anyone for a Snowball Fight?
This is the only bad thing about snow. Al even shoveled a spot for Daily in the backyard, but she still has to do a perimeter check and walk through the deepest snow. Hmmmmm. Something to be said for a hairless dog.
And It's Still Snowing!
We have at least 5 inches, and should have 12 to 14 by the time it's all over. Good thing I bought more hot chocolate!
Saturday, March 18, 2006
JK Rowling Raises Money for MS
Besides being a wonderful and creative writer, JK Rowling also devotes her time and money to support MS research. She hosted a charity ball at Stirling Castle in Scotland on Friday night, raising £200,000. The article is here.
Rowling's mother died of MS, that's why she is such a strong supporter. There was a scavenger hunt, with Rowling writing the clues. How fun would that be?!?
There was also an auction. And one of my favorite writers, Ian Rankin, donated a chance to have the highest bidder's name to be used as a villian or hero in his next Rebus book. How cool is that?!?
What fun that would have been.
Rowling's mother died of MS, that's why she is such a strong supporter. There was a scavenger hunt, with Rowling writing the clues. How fun would that be?!?
There was also an auction. And one of my favorite writers, Ian Rankin, donated a chance to have the highest bidder's name to be used as a villian or hero in his next Rebus book. How cool is that?!?
What fun that would have been.
Snow Coming
Apparently, snow is heading towards us. I think it's pretty typical to get one more snow in March here in the midwest. It's a last hurrah for those of us who actually like the snow and the cold. Poor hubby. He's cold. He's been cold since October, and his mood is very much connected to the temperature of his feet. We're going to have to retire to differnt parts of the country, I'm afraid. I don't like being hot, and he doesn't like being cold. How have we lasted 16 years!?!
Anyway, snow. I hope it does. I hope it just dumps feets and feets of snow. Large, wet, heavy flakes that snow us in for at least 2 days. I want a good excuse to curl up on the couch in front of a fire, drink hot chocolate, and read a good book or finish knitting the hat I'm donating to the hospital for chemo patients. And Al doesn't have to work for the next 4 days, so if he wants to get out and drive around for fun, he can. Although, he's taken the snow tires off the Miata, so I guess he'll have to just drive the truck.
Yes, snow tires on the convertible sports car. You know you're a redneck when . . .
The first time was when we were in Ohio. My brother, who was up for Christmas, called me at work after our first big snow storm there. He said, "You're husband has a funny idea of fun." He told me he was putting snow tires on the Miata. The next thing I knew, I got an email from my crazy husband. It was a video from the inside of the car, and he was doing donuts in an empty parking lot. Maybe he could handle a little cold weather after all.
So, what should I read? I'm up to Black and Blue in the Rebus mystery series, but I haven't gotten it yet. I'm still reading The Artist's Way, but I'm taking that a week at a time so that I can actually do the exercises in the book (gotta get my brain going). Maybe Bel Canto? I've had that on my "read me" shelf for quite a while now. Or maybe The Historian? I can finally get that from the library without waiting for months at a time. I just don't know.
But first, I have to go get some more hot chocolate mix!
Anyway, snow. I hope it does. I hope it just dumps feets and feets of snow. Large, wet, heavy flakes that snow us in for at least 2 days. I want a good excuse to curl up on the couch in front of a fire, drink hot chocolate, and read a good book or finish knitting the hat I'm donating to the hospital for chemo patients. And Al doesn't have to work for the next 4 days, so if he wants to get out and drive around for fun, he can. Although, he's taken the snow tires off the Miata, so I guess he'll have to just drive the truck.
Yes, snow tires on the convertible sports car. You know you're a redneck when . . .
The first time was when we were in Ohio. My brother, who was up for Christmas, called me at work after our first big snow storm there. He said, "You're husband has a funny idea of fun." He told me he was putting snow tires on the Miata. The next thing I knew, I got an email from my crazy husband. It was a video from the inside of the car, and he was doing donuts in an empty parking lot. Maybe he could handle a little cold weather after all.
So, what should I read? I'm up to Black and Blue in the Rebus mystery series, but I haven't gotten it yet. I'm still reading The Artist's Way, but I'm taking that a week at a time so that I can actually do the exercises in the book (gotta get my brain going). Maybe Bel Canto? I've had that on my "read me" shelf for quite a while now. Or maybe The Historian? I can finally get that from the library without waiting for months at a time. I just don't know.
But first, I have to go get some more hot chocolate mix!
Doctor Who
The Sci Fi channel is showing the latest (2005) Doctor Who incarnation. Now, I'm not a "Who Geek." I swear. Although, I used to watch it every time it was on all those years ago on PBS. It was just great hokey fun. And I really liked Tom Baker's long, colorful scarf. Hmmm. I bet I could knit one of those!
The latest series, though, was really cool. They showed the premier last night--two episodes back-to-back, and I watched them both times! This new Doctor is so good. Very funny, very intelligent, very eccentric, and just so darn cute. He's Christoper Eccelston, and I've been a fan of his for a while. Since I instist on having BBC America where ever we live, I've seen him in several things. And if you've seen The Others (and you should) and/or 28 Days Later (and you should), then you've seen him, too. He was Nicole Kidman's husband and the terrifying military leader, in those movies.
Anyway, it was pretty good, and I'm looking forward to the next episodes. Especially next week because there are ghosts in it! I love ghost stories. Unfortunately, he only stayed in the role for one season. David Tennant, Barty Crouch in Harry Potter GOF, has taken over the role, filming now in the UK.
Check it out!
The latest series, though, was really cool. They showed the premier last night--two episodes back-to-back, and I watched them both times! This new Doctor is so good. Very funny, very intelligent, very eccentric, and just so darn cute. He's Christoper Eccelston, and I've been a fan of his for a while. Since I instist on having BBC America where ever we live, I've seen him in several things. And if you've seen The Others (and you should) and/or 28 Days Later (and you should), then you've seen him, too. He was Nicole Kidman's husband and the terrifying military leader, in those movies.
Anyway, it was pretty good, and I'm looking forward to the next episodes. Especially next week because there are ghosts in it! I love ghost stories. Unfortunately, he only stayed in the role for one season. David Tennant, Barty Crouch in Harry Potter GOF, has taken over the role, filming now in the UK.
Check it out!
Friday, March 17, 2006
For Ireland
In honor of St. Patrick's day, here is one of my favorite Yeats poems. I love it because it captures that feeling of romantic daydreaming about being in a comforting and peaceful place. Probably because he was in London at the time, daydreaming of being home in Ireland.
Enjoy!
The Lake Isle of Innisfree
W.B. Yeats
I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,
And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made:
Nine bean-rows will I have there, a hive for the honey-bee,
And live alone in the bee-loud glade.
And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow,
Dropping from the veils of the mourning to where the cricket sings;
There midnight's all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow,
And evening full of the linnet's wings.
I will arise and go now, for always night and day
I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore;
While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements grey,
I hear it in the deep heart's core.
Enjoy!
The Lake Isle of Innisfree
W.B. Yeats
I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,
And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made:
Nine bean-rows will I have there, a hive for the honey-bee,
And live alone in the bee-loud glade.
And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow,
Dropping from the veils of the mourning to where the cricket sings;
There midnight's all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow,
And evening full of the linnet's wings.
I will arise and go now, for always night and day
I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore;
While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements grey,
I hear it in the deep heart's core.
Saturday, March 11, 2006
Morning Pages
I've been reading The Artist's Way on the recommendation of my good friend, Rose. It's pretty interesting, and I am finding myself in the author's descriptions. That "shadow voice" that tells you that you aren't good enough or creative enough, so you find other ways to be involved with artists instead of being one yourself. You buy pieces of art, you become a patron of the local theater, you take a job where you support other creative people, all because you are afraid to try to do it yourself and find that you are creative after all.
One of the exercises and something the author recommends doing every day is called "Morning Pages." I love this idea. It's just you, a pen, and a spiral notebook. You write steam of consciousness for 3 pages--whatever comes into your mind. This will dump all those extraneous thoughts in your head so that you can focus your thoughts on what you need to do that day. It also dumps all those self-conscious and destructive thoughts because you can write them out of your head instead leaving them in there to fester.
I had no problem filling 3 pages. And I did feel better. So, I think I'll keep trying it.
One of the exercises and something the author recommends doing every day is called "Morning Pages." I love this idea. It's just you, a pen, and a spiral notebook. You write steam of consciousness for 3 pages--whatever comes into your mind. This will dump all those extraneous thoughts in your head so that you can focus your thoughts on what you need to do that day. It also dumps all those self-conscious and destructive thoughts because you can write them out of your head instead leaving them in there to fester.
I had no problem filling 3 pages. And I did feel better. So, I think I'll keep trying it.
Wednesday, March 08, 2006
Craving
I'm craving cookies, so I think I'll make one of my favorites. I call them Road Trip Cookies because I always make them and take them on road trips. Brilliant, huh? We drove from San Antonio to Las Vegas in our Miata, and these cookies helped get us through those long stretches. Enjoy!
Road Trip Cookies
1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, softened
1 cup sugar
1 cup plus 2 tablespoons firmly packed brown sugar
3 eggs
1 18-oz jar smooth peanut butter (I prefer Skippy!)
3/4 teaspoon light corn syrup
1/4 teaspoon vanilla
4 1/2 cups regular oats, uncooked
2 teaspoons baking soda
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 cup mini chocolate chips (actually, I used almost the entire bag)
Using a mixer, cream butter, then gradually add both sugars. Beat well. Add eggs, peanut butter, syrup, and vanilla and beat well until all incorporated. Add oats, soda, and salt and mix well (you can do this step with a spoon since the dough gets pretty stiff). Stir in chocolate chips.
Using a 1/4-cup measuring cup, drop dough 4 inches apart onto lightly greased cookie sheet, or cookie sheet lined with parchment paper. Lightly press each cookie into a circle with fingertips. Bake at 350 degrees for 12 to 15 minutes (centers of cookies will be soft). Cool slightly on cookie sheet then remove to cooling rack to cool completely. Makes about 2 1/2 dozen.
Road Trip Cookies
1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, softened
1 cup sugar
1 cup plus 2 tablespoons firmly packed brown sugar
3 eggs
1 18-oz jar smooth peanut butter (I prefer Skippy!)
3/4 teaspoon light corn syrup
1/4 teaspoon vanilla
4 1/2 cups regular oats, uncooked
2 teaspoons baking soda
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 cup mini chocolate chips (actually, I used almost the entire bag)
Using a mixer, cream butter, then gradually add both sugars. Beat well. Add eggs, peanut butter, syrup, and vanilla and beat well until all incorporated. Add oats, soda, and salt and mix well (you can do this step with a spoon since the dough gets pretty stiff). Stir in chocolate chips.
Using a 1/4-cup measuring cup, drop dough 4 inches apart onto lightly greased cookie sheet, or cookie sheet lined with parchment paper. Lightly press each cookie into a circle with fingertips. Bake at 350 degrees for 12 to 15 minutes (centers of cookies will be soft). Cool slightly on cookie sheet then remove to cooling rack to cool completely. Makes about 2 1/2 dozen.
Where's the Outrage?!?
OK, South Dakota makes it's stand against abortion because life begins at conception. In France, The European Courts of Human Rights has ruled that Natalie Evans can't keep her frozen embryos by an ex-fiance and they must be destroyed. Hello? Where are all the self-righteous pro-lifers? The articles is here. There's another good article here.
Basically, Ms. Evans had cancer and they had to remove her ovaries. She and her then-fiance fertilized her eggs and had them frozen. But they broke up and the ex has decided he doesn't want to be a daddy and withrew his consent for her to use them.
Maybe the right-to-lifers don't care because this happened in another country? Hasn't stopped them before. Baptisits make it part of their calling to go to other countries to get them to change their ways to Christian values.
Maybe they don't feel like they can fight British law: under British law an embryo does not have independent rights or interests. Interesting. I wonder, do we have a law like that? Is fertilization not the same as conception? Is it only life if it's in a womb?
Or maybe it's because it's ok for a man to have a say about when he has children, but it's not ok for a woman? In the article, the ex is quoted, “The key thing for me was just to be able to decide when and if I start a family. So, that's been the basis for it,” he told journalists in Cheltenham, England. Yikes! Why does his say over-rule hers?
The article for the The Globe and Mail said that they were asking the embryos not be destroyed in case Evans can think of something else, but the article in my paper said they were going to be destroyed.
Again, where is the outrage?
Basically, Ms. Evans had cancer and they had to remove her ovaries. She and her then-fiance fertilized her eggs and had them frozen. But they broke up and the ex has decided he doesn't want to be a daddy and withrew his consent for her to use them.
Maybe the right-to-lifers don't care because this happened in another country? Hasn't stopped them before. Baptisits make it part of their calling to go to other countries to get them to change their ways to Christian values.
Maybe they don't feel like they can fight British law: under British law an embryo does not have independent rights or interests. Interesting. I wonder, do we have a law like that? Is fertilization not the same as conception? Is it only life if it's in a womb?
Or maybe it's because it's ok for a man to have a say about when he has children, but it's not ok for a woman? In the article, the ex is quoted, “The key thing for me was just to be able to decide when and if I start a family. So, that's been the basis for it,” he told journalists in Cheltenham, England. Yikes! Why does his say over-rule hers?
The article for the The Globe and Mail said that they were asking the embryos not be destroyed in case Evans can think of something else, but the article in my paper said they were going to be destroyed.
Again, where is the outrage?
Monday, March 06, 2006
Saturday, March 04, 2006
Charmed No More
I'm sad. Charmed is ending after 8 seasons on the WB. It was supposed to end last year, but was renewed one more time. But this will be the last year.
And I only have one thing to say--They better bring Leo back and have him and Piper live happily ever after!
I'm sad to see it go, but there are always the reruns. And I haven't been following it as closely this last year as I did before, so I guess it's time.
But still.
Buffy, Angel, now Charmed. There's nothing for Al and Jay to tease me about watching now.
And I only have one thing to say--They better bring Leo back and have him and Piper live happily ever after!
I'm sad to see it go, but there are always the reruns. And I haven't been following it as closely this last year as I did before, so I guess it's time.
But still.
Buffy, Angel, now Charmed. There's nothing for Al and Jay to tease me about watching now.
Thursday, March 02, 2006
Got My Aura Back
When I was a teenager, I was the babysitter--kids loved me. And all through my 20s and my early 30s, when my friends where having babies and I was surrounded by kids, kids loved me. But then I hit that age where my friends' kids were growing up and there weren't any more coming along. Then we found another couple who were DINKs like we were, so I wasn't around kids any more. Then I went into the "the dark period" and didn't care if I had friends at all. And somewhere in there, I lost my "kid aura."
Babies didn't lunge for me any more. Kids didn't come running up to hug Miss Kelley any more. I realized this the hard way when I volunteered to babysit my friend's 3 month old, who screamed and cried the whole time I was there. This is like separation anxiety to the extreme! I felt pretty helpless, calling my friend apologetically wondering if she should come home. But this was her third kid, so she said he would calm down eventually. Well, he didn't, no matter what I did. Actually, he calmed down a little when I turned on Dora the Explorer, but that show lasted only about 20 minutes, dammit. So, he cried until his mom came home. And even though I've never been haunted by the ticking clock, I felt bad that I had lost some kind of bond with kids that used to be so natural to me.
Until yesterday. I have a friend who after giving up on having a baby, of course, got pregnant. Her little boy is 3 months old, and I was hesitant to be around him. It had been 2 years since the last 3-month-old cryfest, and I hadn't been around a baby since. Luckily, I had nothing to worry about.
While Mom put together a frame (framing has become a necessary hobby), I held the little one, who was fussy because he needed a nap. But as I held him, he smiled and giggled and seemed genuinely happy to be held and cuddled. After doing that stand and sway thing for a while, and him still awake, my back yelled at me sit the hell down! So, I did. I rubbed his tummy while he sucked on his thumb and before I knew it, he was aleep! Hmmm, that tummy rub works pretty well--just like a little alligator without teeth. I put him back in his car seat, and Mom promised me lunch next time we go out. Score! Sleeping baby and a free lunch!
So, I guess I didn't lose my aura completely; it just went dormant for a while. Hmmm, I wonder what other things will perk up?
Babies didn't lunge for me any more. Kids didn't come running up to hug Miss Kelley any more. I realized this the hard way when I volunteered to babysit my friend's 3 month old, who screamed and cried the whole time I was there. This is like separation anxiety to the extreme! I felt pretty helpless, calling my friend apologetically wondering if she should come home. But this was her third kid, so she said he would calm down eventually. Well, he didn't, no matter what I did. Actually, he calmed down a little when I turned on Dora the Explorer, but that show lasted only about 20 minutes, dammit. So, he cried until his mom came home. And even though I've never been haunted by the ticking clock, I felt bad that I had lost some kind of bond with kids that used to be so natural to me.
Until yesterday. I have a friend who after giving up on having a baby, of course, got pregnant. Her little boy is 3 months old, and I was hesitant to be around him. It had been 2 years since the last 3-month-old cryfest, and I hadn't been around a baby since. Luckily, I had nothing to worry about.
While Mom put together a frame (framing has become a necessary hobby), I held the little one, who was fussy because he needed a nap. But as I held him, he smiled and giggled and seemed genuinely happy to be held and cuddled. After doing that stand and sway thing for a while, and him still awake, my back yelled at me sit the hell down! So, I did. I rubbed his tummy while he sucked on his thumb and before I knew it, he was aleep! Hmmm, that tummy rub works pretty well--just like a little alligator without teeth. I put him back in his car seat, and Mom promised me lunch next time we go out. Score! Sleeping baby and a free lunch!
So, I guess I didn't lose my aura completely; it just went dormant for a while. Hmmm, I wonder what other things will perk up?
Tuesday, February 28, 2006
Blowin' in the Wind
I'm not real great with heights, but I walked up to the top of this observation tower at the local state park. Did you know that perfectly secure structures sway when you get up that high? Woooooh! That's a little freaky. Funny how you forget your science until you get up there. Plus, the stairs were open, so I could see the ground getting further away with each step. However, the view is gorgeous up there. Contrary to popular belief, Nebraska is actually really pretty. A little flat, and it's still the middle of nowhere, but it's pretty.
Still, I was happy to be on the ground again.
Just Silly
The authors of The Holy Blood and the Holy Grail are suing Dan Brown because they say he stole their ideas for The DaVinci Code. Good grief.
First of all, they presented their book as nonfiction. Therefore, it's a theory that can be used and talked about. Therefore, writing a work of fiction that brings forth a known theory, is not stealing! Geez.
Second of all, The DaVinci Code has been out and on the bestseller list for over 3 years. And now that the movie is getting ready to come out, NOW they want to sue. Unbelievable.
I hate being manipulated.
First of all, they presented their book as nonfiction. Therefore, it's a theory that can be used and talked about. Therefore, writing a work of fiction that brings forth a known theory, is not stealing! Geez.
Second of all, The DaVinci Code has been out and on the bestseller list for over 3 years. And now that the movie is getting ready to come out, NOW they want to sue. Unbelievable.
I hate being manipulated.
Monday, February 27, 2006
Knitting Projects
Here are two of the latest knitting projects I'm working on. The small one is a baby hat for a friend's new baby (it's being knitted in the round). The other is a poncho that I can't wait to get done!
Sunday, February 26, 2006
Sex Pistols Vs Hall of Fame
The Sex Pistols have turned down an invitation to be inducted into the Rock-n-Roll Hall of Fame. Well, duh! Does this really surprise anyone? I would be disappointed if they did show up.
Here's the article. Warning, if you are stickler for grammar, don't read very closely. Then again, if you're a stickler for grammar, you probably aren't interested any way.
Here's the article. Warning, if you are stickler for grammar, don't read very closely. Then again, if you're a stickler for grammar, you probably aren't interested any way.
The Women of Today
Jay sent me an article that he knew would get those hairs on the back of my neck up. And he was right, so I have share it here. It is an article about how the Southern Baptists are trying to take over control of the women's missionary union. The women's group has been independent since 1888. But, the SBC doesn't like that they work with other Baptists or the fact that they don't have any control over this group. And those are not my words, read the article here.
Then Jay said, "Aren't you glad so many of your fellow women voted for Bush?" Of course I'm not happy so many voted for Bush. And I'm surrounded by women who did, who are equally shocked that I didn't. I don't know how to explain to them that I see a train wreck coming when they are so blissfully happy.
Women are just reflecting the movement that been coming for years. They stopped supporting each other as they acquired more (what they perceived of as) power, then wondered why they felt so disillusioned and alone. So, they turned to husbands and families to fill the void and now they are conservatives!
Women have to feel needed and they want to be warm—that’s what the feminist movement has failed to admit and accept. The image of the cold-fish, powerful, intellectual woman who has sex when SHE wants to just isn’t appealing at the end of the day. I think that women want balance in their lives, and after all these years they still battle that because they have the extremist yelling at them that they are doing it wrong. No wonder they are relenting and letting their husbands or men in general take over. They’re tired, and it’s just easier to let someone else do the heavy stuff, so that they can take care of things at home. Look how the first thing people say on those home shows is, “We just love to entertain.” Woman as hostess, woman as cook, woman as homemaker—that’s where their pride lies. And there’s nothing wrong with that, as long as they realize that encouraging women to abdicate their power back to men, they are also giving up the choices and the independence the women before them worked so hard to achieve.
End rant. For today.
Then Jay said, "Aren't you glad so many of your fellow women voted for Bush?" Of course I'm not happy so many voted for Bush. And I'm surrounded by women who did, who are equally shocked that I didn't. I don't know how to explain to them that I see a train wreck coming when they are so blissfully happy.
Women are just reflecting the movement that been coming for years. They stopped supporting each other as they acquired more (what they perceived of as) power, then wondered why they felt so disillusioned and alone. So, they turned to husbands and families to fill the void and now they are conservatives!
Women have to feel needed and they want to be warm—that’s what the feminist movement has failed to admit and accept. The image of the cold-fish, powerful, intellectual woman who has sex when SHE wants to just isn’t appealing at the end of the day. I think that women want balance in their lives, and after all these years they still battle that because they have the extremist yelling at them that they are doing it wrong. No wonder they are relenting and letting their husbands or men in general take over. They’re tired, and it’s just easier to let someone else do the heavy stuff, so that they can take care of things at home. Look how the first thing people say on those home shows is, “We just love to entertain.” Woman as hostess, woman as cook, woman as homemaker—that’s where their pride lies. And there’s nothing wrong with that, as long as they realize that encouraging women to abdicate their power back to men, they are also giving up the choices and the independence the women before them worked so hard to achieve.
End rant. For today.
Saturday, February 25, 2006
Cross SD off the list
Well, on my list of places I might want to live in or visit, guess you can cross off South Dakota. I just can't believe they are seriously considering outlawing abortion. It's not a debate about the morality of abortion for me, it's about a woman's right to choose being taken away. A legal procedure that is being outlawed because a group of men are trying to push their agenda. It's really hard to put this into words because I'm so angry.
*I'm angry at this group of men deciding what's best for the women of the state.
I'm angry at conservatives for manipulating the American public to the point of controling the most personal and individual choice a woman has.
*I'm angry that conservatives preach and preach about small government and how the liberals are trying to tell you how to live your life, yet they have been chipping away at our right to choose for years. And it looks like they are succeeding because the American public are too naive to see they are being dictated to instead of led.
*I'm angry that so many important concerns are being ignored to benefit the converstive, right wing, Christian Coalition agenda--SD would not allow abortion in any situation other than the life of the mother, ignoring rape, incest, poverty, so on.
*I'm angry at the image in my head of a group of smug, old, arrogant men laughing and hi-fiving each other with their Bibles for finally putting women in their place and for pushing the conservative agenda ever closer to the point of domination over all our freedoms.
*I'm angry that I know these people supporting this new ban don't give a damn about the women in their state. All they care about is their political position. This is just the first step. Next step will be other states, then the Supreme Court. [Shudder]
Think I'm exaggerating? I don't. Wake up! We're being manipulated and controlled by a group of crusty old men who want to control everything in our lives. Don't let it happen! Vote out the republicans!
*I'm angry at this group of men deciding what's best for the women of the state.
I'm angry at conservatives for manipulating the American public to the point of controling the most personal and individual choice a woman has.
*I'm angry that conservatives preach and preach about small government and how the liberals are trying to tell you how to live your life, yet they have been chipping away at our right to choose for years. And it looks like they are succeeding because the American public are too naive to see they are being dictated to instead of led.
*I'm angry that so many important concerns are being ignored to benefit the converstive, right wing, Christian Coalition agenda--SD would not allow abortion in any situation other than the life of the mother, ignoring rape, incest, poverty, so on.
*I'm angry at the image in my head of a group of smug, old, arrogant men laughing and hi-fiving each other with their Bibles for finally putting women in their place and for pushing the conservative agenda ever closer to the point of domination over all our freedoms.
*I'm angry that I know these people supporting this new ban don't give a damn about the women in their state. All they care about is their political position. This is just the first step. Next step will be other states, then the Supreme Court. [Shudder]
Think I'm exaggerating? I don't. Wake up! We're being manipulated and controlled by a group of crusty old men who want to control everything in our lives. Don't let it happen! Vote out the republicans!
Friday, February 24, 2006
Yes, I Can!
I gave myself a shot today! I practiced on an orange, then I did it. And holy cow, it was easy and painless. And that's a good thing because I pretty much have to do this once a week for the rest of my life. So, good thing it was easy.
I have a mild case of MS, but with medication, it hopefully won't get much worse for a long time. The Avonex I'm taking slows the progression of the disease and decreases the number of flare ups I'll have. And if it works, it's worth one little shot a week.
I'm just so friggin' proud of myself. I'm not horribly needle-phobic and I had really worked on calming myself down and felt ready for it. But I'm still proud of myself.
And can I admit something really kind of silly? I was watching the propaganda informational DVD that came with my medicine, fully expecting to be talked down to. But I'm actually glad I watched it, just for the testimonials. Not only because one of the hosts of the DVD was a neurologist who has MS (he has MS and can still be a doctor!) but because there was a young woman who admitted that one of the things that had upset her about having MS was that she couldn't wear her favorite high heel boots and shoes again. But being on the medication she can. And I started crying because I had thought the same thing! It's such a simple thing, but I want to wear my high-heeled boots! I like how I look and feel in them, and I was afraid that as this disease got worse, I'd be wearing old-lady, comfortable shoes. I know, such a shallow thing, but somehow it represented some of the freedom I might be losing, and here was this woman saying that it doesn't have to be that way.
OK. That's enough confessions for one night. I'll do lighter stuff later. It's probably time for a Daily Dog update. Or I'll take a picture of my latest knitting projects. Anything but talking about illness.
I have a mild case of MS, but with medication, it hopefully won't get much worse for a long time. The Avonex I'm taking slows the progression of the disease and decreases the number of flare ups I'll have. And if it works, it's worth one little shot a week.
I'm just so friggin' proud of myself. I'm not horribly needle-phobic and I had really worked on calming myself down and felt ready for it. But I'm still proud of myself.
And can I admit something really kind of silly? I was watching the propaganda informational DVD that came with my medicine, fully expecting to be talked down to. But I'm actually glad I watched it, just for the testimonials. Not only because one of the hosts of the DVD was a neurologist who has MS (he has MS and can still be a doctor!) but because there was a young woman who admitted that one of the things that had upset her about having MS was that she couldn't wear her favorite high heel boots and shoes again. But being on the medication she can. And I started crying because I had thought the same thing! It's such a simple thing, but I want to wear my high-heeled boots! I like how I look and feel in them, and I was afraid that as this disease got worse, I'd be wearing old-lady, comfortable shoes. I know, such a shallow thing, but somehow it represented some of the freedom I might be losing, and here was this woman saying that it doesn't have to be that way.
OK. That's enough confessions for one night. I'll do lighter stuff later. It's probably time for a Daily Dog update. Or I'll take a picture of my latest knitting projects. Anything but talking about illness.
Wednesday, February 22, 2006
Been a long time
Jay scolded me because I haven't posted in a while. I've been busy.
Sort of.
OK, I'll admit it. I've been playing this totally addictive game that I got to from Fark. com. It's called Blueprint and you can find it here.
I'm only on level 7 and I'm stuck! I can't figure out how to get that stupid ball to hit the target. And the game is so new that there aren't any tips yet. So, I sent it to my friends and family, knowing that they, too, would become addicted. Then someone would figure out that damn seventh puzzle and tell me how to do it.
I'm still waiting!
So, I guess I'll just try it again. There's got to be a way!
Sort of.
OK, I'll admit it. I've been playing this totally addictive game that I got to from Fark. com. It's called Blueprint and you can find it here.
I'm only on level 7 and I'm stuck! I can't figure out how to get that stupid ball to hit the target. And the game is so new that there aren't any tips yet. So, I sent it to my friends and family, knowing that they, too, would become addicted. Then someone would figure out that damn seventh puzzle and tell me how to do it.
I'm still waiting!
So, I guess I'll just try it again. There's got to be a way!
Buonasera
I’m learning Italian because I’m going to Italy next year. I’ve learned that “Ciao” is very familiar, that cappuccino is considered a morning drink, and that to pronounce “grazie” correctly, you have to pronounce the “eh” at the end, not just “ee”.
I’ve also learned that I probably will not be speaking much Italian when I go to Italy because all I can remember after 6 weeks is “Mi chiamo Kelley.”
It’s a fun class and it’s a beautiful language, but I’m just not putting the time into it that I should (there’s that damn “should” word again). It’s a non-credit class with no tests, so I only have my own encouragement and self-discipline to learn. THAT won’t work. Plan B!
OK, there is no Plan B. I’m going to become comfortable with this language. At least I can read a menu and count, so I can eat and pay for my food. I figure that’s pretty good. But they speak so quickly, that I need to find out how to say, “Can you repeat that slowly, please?” I need to get a list of comments like that and “Where is the bathroom” and ask my teacher, Rosalie, how to say them.
We have a 2-week break, then we start Italian II. So, I’ve got 2 weeks to get up to speed on the stuff I should already be up to speed on.
Ciao!
I’ve also learned that I probably will not be speaking much Italian when I go to Italy because all I can remember after 6 weeks is “Mi chiamo Kelley.”
It’s a fun class and it’s a beautiful language, but I’m just not putting the time into it that I should (there’s that damn “should” word again). It’s a non-credit class with no tests, so I only have my own encouragement and self-discipline to learn. THAT won’t work. Plan B!
OK, there is no Plan B. I’m going to become comfortable with this language. At least I can read a menu and count, so I can eat and pay for my food. I figure that’s pretty good. But they speak so quickly, that I need to find out how to say, “Can you repeat that slowly, please?” I need to get a list of comments like that and “Where is the bathroom” and ask my teacher, Rosalie, how to say them.
We have a 2-week break, then we start Italian II. So, I’ve got 2 weeks to get up to speed on the stuff I should already be up to speed on.
Ciao!
Saturday, February 18, 2006
Burrrrrr!
It's so cold here that it froze our friggin' cable! Aaaaahhhhh! No Internet access! We actually got up early and went to Panera Bread Company for breakfast because they have free Wi-Fi. And Al doesn't like Panera!
Good ego boost, though--I had mucho emails from my friends and families. Most just chatting. I love email.
So, how cold is it? The high today is 8, and the low last night and tonight is -2 or colder. But did we let the cold stop us? Hell no! We went out for pizza with friends then went out for dessert with them then went to a motorcycle show today. Yeah, I know. Kelley went to a motocycle show? That's just the kind of supportive and loving wife I am. Actually, it was pretty cool. There was some "Orange County Chopper" style bikes there, and some really old Harleys, Indians, and Triumphs. And leather! Holy Cow I've never seen so much leather in all my life. And chains, but we won't go there.
The cool thing is that I got a red rubber "Support MS" band. The MS Society has a motorcyle "Poker Run" fundraiser. It's like the yellow Lance Armstrong bands, which I would have too, but since I've recently been diagnosed with MS, I decided to get one. It's cool and it seems to cheer me to wear it. For some reason, when I look at it, it reminds me that just because I have MS, doesn't mean everything is over. It reminds me there is still a lot of work being done and that there are people out there who support MS research and care. It also kind of reminds me to be happy and go out and do! Not because I should before it's too late, but because there's no reason not to.
Mmmmmmmm, Al made coffee and it's almost done brewing. And genius that he is, he's decided we should put Irish Cream in it. Double Mmmmmmm. I think I'll pour a big cup and pick a new book to read. Hmmmmm. Mystery, adventure, or nonfiction? Choices, choices, choices.
Good ego boost, though--I had mucho emails from my friends and families. Most just chatting. I love email.
So, how cold is it? The high today is 8, and the low last night and tonight is -2 or colder. But did we let the cold stop us? Hell no! We went out for pizza with friends then went out for dessert with them then went to a motorcycle show today. Yeah, I know. Kelley went to a motocycle show? That's just the kind of supportive and loving wife I am. Actually, it was pretty cool. There was some "Orange County Chopper" style bikes there, and some really old Harleys, Indians, and Triumphs. And leather! Holy Cow I've never seen so much leather in all my life. And chains, but we won't go there.
The cool thing is that I got a red rubber "Support MS" band. The MS Society has a motorcyle "Poker Run" fundraiser. It's like the yellow Lance Armstrong bands, which I would have too, but since I've recently been diagnosed with MS, I decided to get one. It's cool and it seems to cheer me to wear it. For some reason, when I look at it, it reminds me that just because I have MS, doesn't mean everything is over. It reminds me there is still a lot of work being done and that there are people out there who support MS research and care. It also kind of reminds me to be happy and go out and do! Not because I should before it's too late, but because there's no reason not to.
Mmmmmmmm, Al made coffee and it's almost done brewing. And genius that he is, he's decided we should put Irish Cream in it. Double Mmmmmmm. I think I'll pour a big cup and pick a new book to read. Hmmmmm. Mystery, adventure, or nonfiction? Choices, choices, choices.
Thursday, February 16, 2006
I Should Be
I had a therapist once tell me that I had a huge “should list.” Part of our sessions were convincing me that some of those things aren’t really “shoulds,” and that I put too much pressure on myself to do everything that I think I should be doing instead of what I really should be doing. Does that make sense?
No, I didn’t think so. Basically, she’s telling me I’m trying to take on too much and that maybe, just maybe, some of the things I beat myself up over, aren’t so important and therefore should not be a “should.”
So, what to do? Why, make a list of course! Ya gotta start somewhere. I can’t cull until I know what I’m dealing with. So, here it goes, in no particular order.
I should be:
1. Exercising every day instead of lucky-to-get-it-in-three-times-a-week.
2. Cleaning the house more often and more completely.
3. Vacuuming more than every 3 weeks or so. Oh, who am I kidding? I don’t vacuum. I just keep putting it off until Al can’t stand it and he’ll vacuum.
4. Cleaning my shower more often. One word: Eww
5. Eating 5 servings of fruits and vegetables a day.
6. Not eating 5 servings of something fried a day.
7. Spending more time reading a book rather than reading Project Runway message boards.
8. Typing up the stuff from the committee I’m chairing for the church bulletin instead of typing this silly list.
9. Trying to stop procrastinating. Oh look, there’s an episode of Charmed I’ve only seen 4 times; guess I better watch it again.
10. Figuring out what to cook for dinner.
11. Actually cooking dinner.
12. Cooking healthier meals.
13. Brushing my dog every day so that when I take her into the groomer, she doesn’t look at me like I’m the Joan Crawford of Doggie Moms.
14. Traveling more.
15. In Scotland.
16. Preparing for our trip to Italy next year.
17. Studying my Italian language homework.
18. Writing every day.
19. Finishing that short story and send it out.
20. Working on that novel I’ve been wanting to write and can’t sleep because I keep dreaming scenes for it.
21. Petting my dog. I will love her and pet her and squeeze her and hug her and call her Daily Dog.
22. Loving Al more.
23. Not taking Al for granted.
24. Telling my family that I love them.
25. Forgiving my father.
26. Not worrying about my mom, my brother, my husband, and my dog all the time.
27. Going out with my girlfriends instead of staying alone in my house.
28. Pampering myself more often, maybe my skin would look better.
29. Shaving my legs more often.
30. Praying more often.
31. Knitting more often and actually finishing the projects I’ve started.
32. Scrapbooking more often and actually finishing the projects I’ve started.
33. Painting the closets, my bathroom and my craftroom.
34. Learning how to spin yarn.
35. Appreciating that I have a warm house, food in the frig, and a husband who loves me, puts up with me, and takes care of me. And he’s a nice guy, too.
36. Not feeling like I’ve wasted a huge part of my life since I’ve been diagnosed with MS, as if I won’t be able to do the things I still want to do.
37. Liking myself more than I do.
38. Letting people like me and letting them in.
39. Dreading the weekly shot of Avonex.
40. Giving myself a break.
OK, that’s enough. It’s getting late, and I really should be working on other stuff.
Should? I’m growing to dislike that word immensely
No, I didn’t think so. Basically, she’s telling me I’m trying to take on too much and that maybe, just maybe, some of the things I beat myself up over, aren’t so important and therefore should not be a “should.”
So, what to do? Why, make a list of course! Ya gotta start somewhere. I can’t cull until I know what I’m dealing with. So, here it goes, in no particular order.
I should be:
1. Exercising every day instead of lucky-to-get-it-in-three-times-a-week.
2. Cleaning the house more often and more completely.
3. Vacuuming more than every 3 weeks or so. Oh, who am I kidding? I don’t vacuum. I just keep putting it off until Al can’t stand it and he’ll vacuum.
4. Cleaning my shower more often. One word: Eww
5. Eating 5 servings of fruits and vegetables a day.
6. Not eating 5 servings of something fried a day.
7. Spending more time reading a book rather than reading Project Runway message boards.
8. Typing up the stuff from the committee I’m chairing for the church bulletin instead of typing this silly list.
9. Trying to stop procrastinating. Oh look, there’s an episode of Charmed I’ve only seen 4 times; guess I better watch it again.
10. Figuring out what to cook for dinner.
11. Actually cooking dinner.
12. Cooking healthier meals.
13. Brushing my dog every day so that when I take her into the groomer, she doesn’t look at me like I’m the Joan Crawford of Doggie Moms.
14. Traveling more.
15. In Scotland.
16. Preparing for our trip to Italy next year.
17. Studying my Italian language homework.
18. Writing every day.
19. Finishing that short story and send it out.
20. Working on that novel I’ve been wanting to write and can’t sleep because I keep dreaming scenes for it.
21. Petting my dog. I will love her and pet her and squeeze her and hug her and call her Daily Dog.
22. Loving Al more.
23. Not taking Al for granted.
24. Telling my family that I love them.
25. Forgiving my father.
26. Not worrying about my mom, my brother, my husband, and my dog all the time.
27. Going out with my girlfriends instead of staying alone in my house.
28. Pampering myself more often, maybe my skin would look better.
29. Shaving my legs more often.
30. Praying more often.
31. Knitting more often and actually finishing the projects I’ve started.
32. Scrapbooking more often and actually finishing the projects I’ve started.
33. Painting the closets, my bathroom and my craftroom.
34. Learning how to spin yarn.
35. Appreciating that I have a warm house, food in the frig, and a husband who loves me, puts up with me, and takes care of me. And he’s a nice guy, too.
36. Not feeling like I’ve wasted a huge part of my life since I’ve been diagnosed with MS, as if I won’t be able to do the things I still want to do.
37. Liking myself more than I do.
38. Letting people like me and letting them in.
39. Dreading the weekly shot of Avonex.
40. Giving myself a break.
OK, that’s enough. It’s getting late, and I really should be working on other stuff.
Should? I’m growing to dislike that word immensely
Ya Gotta Stretch Yourself
When I volunteered to chair a committee for our church's pledge campaign, I thought it would be very good for me. I thought I needed to stretch myself and start taking on some responsibility and using my brain again, after a year break while living in Ohio.
Right aftwards, I decided I was out of my mind! What was a I thinking? Leading a Spiritual Life committee with 10 members, all looking to me for orders and direction? Never again.
But, I was right the first time. It was a good idea for me to take this on and to stretch myself. I'm working with an amazing group of people who are willing to do anything to help. And not only that, they thank me for the work I do! I don't think that's happened before.
So, this stretching myself and taking on things that might make me uncomfortable is good thing. I should do it more often.
And I'll probably get the chance, especially with this church. I made the mistake of telling my pastor that I was a little bored. You should never tell your pastor that you're bored--He will always have something for you to do. But that's OK. I need things to do to get me motivated to do more.
Right aftwards, I decided I was out of my mind! What was a I thinking? Leading a Spiritual Life committee with 10 members, all looking to me for orders and direction? Never again.
But, I was right the first time. It was a good idea for me to take this on and to stretch myself. I'm working with an amazing group of people who are willing to do anything to help. And not only that, they thank me for the work I do! I don't think that's happened before.
So, this stretching myself and taking on things that might make me uncomfortable is good thing. I should do it more often.
And I'll probably get the chance, especially with this church. I made the mistake of telling my pastor that I was a little bored. You should never tell your pastor that you're bored--He will always have something for you to do. But that's OK. I need things to do to get me motivated to do more.
Wednesday, February 15, 2006
Cheney Takes Responisibility
Seems to be the theme of this administration, "I take full responsibility," after I've tried to blame someone else and the American public saw through it. Now that the injuries are worse than first thought, now that it's not just a matter of him not coming forward sooner, now that he has no other choice, NOW he takes the blame.
Unbelievable. Arrogant. Cold-hearted and typical.
This is a horrible story. It would be horrible whoever it happened to, but it's even more horrible that it has happened to a leader of the country. Not because he's more important, but because he sets an example, a bad one. The first stories came out that the poor old man (notice how many times they gave Whittington's age?) didn't let Cheney know. What did they tell Whittington's family? "Sorry your dottering old man didn't let me know he was there like he was supposed to"? Did they also tell the family to stay quiet? Haven't heard much from them.
But let's not think about the victim, let's think about poor, "shaken" Cheney. Yes, it sucks that he has to go through this publicly, but that's what happens when you are the second most powerful politician/man in the country. You're held to a higher standard. And I don't blame them for waiting until they knew Whittington was OK before they released the information. And I do think they had more than a say in what Armstrong said to the press. And it was a bad decision to give it to the Corpus Christi paper. That's not a slam on their paper or their importance in this country, that's a statement of opinion. It was a low-down, sneaky thing to do. Make it seem like not such a big idea by giving it to the local press. Then, when it come out, blame the national news as bad losers:
"I had a bit of the feeling that the press corps was upset because, to some extent, it was about them — they didn't like the idea that we called the Corpus Christi Caller-Times instead of The New York Times," he said. "But it strikes me that the Corpus Christi Caller-Times is just as valid a news outlet as The New York Times is, especially for covering a major story in south Texas." Cheney.
None of this was handled well, and it's just another example of this administration thinking they are so much smarter and so much above the citizens they are vowed to serve.
Unbelievable. Arrogant. Cold-hearted and typical.
This is a horrible story. It would be horrible whoever it happened to, but it's even more horrible that it has happened to a leader of the country. Not because he's more important, but because he sets an example, a bad one. The first stories came out that the poor old man (notice how many times they gave Whittington's age?) didn't let Cheney know. What did they tell Whittington's family? "Sorry your dottering old man didn't let me know he was there like he was supposed to"? Did they also tell the family to stay quiet? Haven't heard much from them.
But let's not think about the victim, let's think about poor, "shaken" Cheney. Yes, it sucks that he has to go through this publicly, but that's what happens when you are the second most powerful politician/man in the country. You're held to a higher standard. And I don't blame them for waiting until they knew Whittington was OK before they released the information. And I do think they had more than a say in what Armstrong said to the press. And it was a bad decision to give it to the Corpus Christi paper. That's not a slam on their paper or their importance in this country, that's a statement of opinion. It was a low-down, sneaky thing to do. Make it seem like not such a big idea by giving it to the local press. Then, when it come out, blame the national news as bad losers:
"I had a bit of the feeling that the press corps was upset because, to some extent, it was about them — they didn't like the idea that we called the Corpus Christi Caller-Times instead of The New York Times," he said. "But it strikes me that the Corpus Christi Caller-Times is just as valid a news outlet as The New York Times is, especially for covering a major story in south Texas." Cheney.
None of this was handled well, and it's just another example of this administration thinking they are so much smarter and so much above the citizens they are vowed to serve.
Is There No Hope at All?
Sheesh! First, a low-fat diet isn't the cure-all that everyone thinks. Turns out it doesn't have as big effect on heart disease and cancer as we thought.
Now, calcium isn't as good as we thought! The latest is here. I'm not quite to the age that I have to worry about this, but I always felt a little safe because I get a lot of calcium, being a big milk drinker, cheese eater, yogart eater, orange juice with calcium drinker . . . But now, even a supplement isn't enough.
There's just no hope. Might as well go eat Fish-n-Chips at the Dundee Dell and drink some more beer.
Now, calcium isn't as good as we thought! The latest is here. I'm not quite to the age that I have to worry about this, but I always felt a little safe because I get a lot of calcium, being a big milk drinker, cheese eater, yogart eater, orange juice with calcium drinker . . . But now, even a supplement isn't enough.
There's just no hope. Might as well go eat Fish-n-Chips at the Dundee Dell and drink some more beer.
Not Surprised
Your Inner European is Irish! |
 Sprited and boisterous! You drink everyone under the table. |
Tuesday, February 14, 2006
That's OK, Too!
Woo Hoo! If it can't be the PBGV, then the Scottish Deerhound is just as good! This is Ch Thistleglen Margot. The deerhound took Best Hound. Now, onto Best in Show!
White House Finds Humor in Hunting Mishap
Yet, I don't find it funny at all. But that's this administration for you. Try to get away from anything that might show them in a bad light by making jokes and demeaning the whole issue. If this had been Hillary, do you think they'd be making these jokes? Here's the article.
Root for the PBGV!!
Ch Celestial CJ's Jolly Fairchild is the PBGV competing in Westminster tonight. Root for Best Hound then on to Best in Show!
You Know You've Been Married A Long Time When . . .
You don't do anything for Valentine's Day and you don't feel guilty. OK, maybe a little guilty. Al brought home flowers, a card and some Godiva hearts last night. They were still in the store sack, so he just brought them out one at a time and handed them to me. It was really kind of sweet. No more pretense in this relationship! He'll be working on the day, so he got the stuff early. Then I realized that I hadn't gotten him anything!
He said not to worry about it and don't do anything. He knows I've been a little preoccupied with the diagnosis and immanent weekly shots. So, I'm going to take him up on that.
Then my wonderful brother and mother sent cards and Snickers hearts! OK, now I really feel guilty. I didn't get them anything, either. But they, too, understand, I'm sure.
One of these days, everything will become routine again, and I won't feel like I'm just making it one day at a time. Then maybe I'll start working on some changes in my attitude and get some stuff done.
Maybe I should make a list? Naw. Too broad right now. I need to wait until I can think of specific goals. So, I'll just put that off for a while! Yeah! See, I'm returning more to normal every day!
He said not to worry about it and don't do anything. He knows I've been a little preoccupied with the diagnosis and immanent weekly shots. So, I'm going to take him up on that.
Then my wonderful brother and mother sent cards and Snickers hearts! OK, now I really feel guilty. I didn't get them anything, either. But they, too, understand, I'm sure.
One of these days, everything will become routine again, and I won't feel like I'm just making it one day at a time. Then maybe I'll start working on some changes in my attitude and get some stuff done.
Maybe I should make a list? Naw. Too broad right now. I need to wait until I can think of specific goals. So, I'll just put that off for a while! Yeah! See, I'm returning more to normal every day!
Monday, February 13, 2006
For the Scotland Fans
Been watching Ewan McGregor and Charley Boorman in "Long Way Round," and McGregor makes me want to go back to Scotland. So, just thought I'd throw up a picture of a Scottish Coo.
Just Too Wild!
This is a gorgeous dog, but Wow! Al calls it the "rasta" dog. I've seen these dogs as puppies and the don't have this coat. It developes over time into those cords. Just amazing. It didn't win Best Working Dog, the rottie did, but this is such a cool dog!
Friday, February 10, 2006
And Yet Another Fraud
I've been reading about "JT LeRoy" being a fraud for a a while, but now it is official. The latest article is on cnn.com. The actual writer, Laura Albert, wanted to get her work recognized. Congratulations, it worked! Aren't you proud? You aren't really a 25-year-old former male prostitute and drug addict; you're a liar and a fraud. How did you get yourself into this? Didn't you think for a moment, "This will never work. This has been tried before, and they almost always get caught."
The article says that she did it for her estranged partner, Geoffrey Knoop. Estranged? So, now that you aren't a couple any more, there's no bond there to keep the secret? Apparently, Mr. Knoop just couldn't handle the pressure of deceiving the public:
"He's wanted to come clean and let JT fade away," attorney Eric Feig said of Knoop late Monday. "He wanted to take the high road."
Yet, the next sentence:
He's also secured a movie deal to tell his side of the story, Feig said.
Beautiful. I wonder how much Albert is getting for her side of the story. And I wonder if she'll get to write the screenplay.
The article says that she did it for her estranged partner, Geoffrey Knoop. Estranged? So, now that you aren't a couple any more, there's no bond there to keep the secret? Apparently, Mr. Knoop just couldn't handle the pressure of deceiving the public:
"He's wanted to come clean and let JT fade away," attorney Eric Feig said of Knoop late Monday. "He wanted to take the high road."
Yet, the next sentence:
He's also secured a movie deal to tell his side of the story, Feig said.
Beautiful. I wonder how much Albert is getting for her side of the story. And I wonder if she'll get to write the screenplay.
Cute Daily Pic
"A little help here." Daily wants to go for a ride. Unfortunately, you can't see her tail wagging. She loves going for a ride.
Thursday, February 09, 2006
Project Runway Is Taking Over
OK, I admit it. After the new episode of Project Runway, I go directly to the website and read Tim's Blog and listen to his podcast and read the boards. I can't help it! I'm addicted to this show, and I don't know anything about making clothes, let alone fashion. But I like reading all the remarks and sometimes I actually agree with them.
This week, Nick was out. I haven't blogged after every new episode, or you would believe me on this next statement: I saw it coming. He wasn't making good choices any more, and the judges were getting tired of him. Not that I think those judges really have any say in who's in or who's out, but still, the writing was on the wall.
Speaking of writing, the reason all this is pretty predictable has to do with writing technique. If I was writing this as a book, how would I hint that a favorite designer was going to be out? OK, besides having a commercial where Heidi says, "Next week, one of your favorites will be out." How would I structure the favorite designer leaving?
The designer who seemed so strong, starts to fall apart. He begins to falter under the pressure, swinging between being a drama queen who has been wronged to being an over-confident yet spoiled child who won't stop to think about what he's doing. The judges start complaining that they are tired of seeing the same ol' design from him ("If I see a fishtale hem again I'm going to scream"). He ends up in the bottom of the pack, instead of the top. He's missed being "out" twice, now.
He is soooooo out of there.
Yet, there's a more practicle, plot-line reason he has to go: Because now the real drama of who will be the final three can be played out on the next episode, where we are down to 4--1) Chloe--the expert technician who always does a flawless job, even though it's not always that exciting; 2) Daniel--the recent fashion school graduate who has come out of his shell to win at least four challenges and had immunity on this last one, saving him from a good chance of being out; 3) Kara--the other girl, the one who sews well, but is unsure of herself, so much so that she is always asking other's advice. There's no way this woman has an original, high-fashion line in her; and 4) Santino--the rebel, the obnoxious one who pisses everyone off not only because he pushes the envelope of fashion but because many times he does it badly, resulting in an unwearable and down-right ugly garmet. Yet, he stays.
High drama in deed.
God! I can't wait for next week!!!!
Oh, and I really think Kara will be gone next week. She may do a really pretty evening gown, but there won't be anything really special about it. And, like I said, I just can't see her doing a whole line, which is what the final three have to do. Besides, there are over 90 pages on the PR message board, most of the messages complaining about Santino. Why would they give that up by getting rid of him?
But, that's just my opinion. I could be wrong.
This week, Nick was out. I haven't blogged after every new episode, or you would believe me on this next statement: I saw it coming. He wasn't making good choices any more, and the judges were getting tired of him. Not that I think those judges really have any say in who's in or who's out, but still, the writing was on the wall.
Speaking of writing, the reason all this is pretty predictable has to do with writing technique. If I was writing this as a book, how would I hint that a favorite designer was going to be out? OK, besides having a commercial where Heidi says, "Next week, one of your favorites will be out." How would I structure the favorite designer leaving?
The designer who seemed so strong, starts to fall apart. He begins to falter under the pressure, swinging between being a drama queen who has been wronged to being an over-confident yet spoiled child who won't stop to think about what he's doing. The judges start complaining that they are tired of seeing the same ol' design from him ("If I see a fishtale hem again I'm going to scream"). He ends up in the bottom of the pack, instead of the top. He's missed being "out" twice, now.
He is soooooo out of there.
Yet, there's a more practicle, plot-line reason he has to go: Because now the real drama of who will be the final three can be played out on the next episode, where we are down to 4--1) Chloe--the expert technician who always does a flawless job, even though it's not always that exciting; 2) Daniel--the recent fashion school graduate who has come out of his shell to win at least four challenges and had immunity on this last one, saving him from a good chance of being out; 3) Kara--the other girl, the one who sews well, but is unsure of herself, so much so that she is always asking other's advice. There's no way this woman has an original, high-fashion line in her; and 4) Santino--the rebel, the obnoxious one who pisses everyone off not only because he pushes the envelope of fashion but because many times he does it badly, resulting in an unwearable and down-right ugly garmet. Yet, he stays.
High drama in deed.
God! I can't wait for next week!!!!
Oh, and I really think Kara will be gone next week. She may do a really pretty evening gown, but there won't be anything really special about it. And, like I said, I just can't see her doing a whole line, which is what the final three have to do. Besides, there are over 90 pages on the PR message board, most of the messages complaining about Santino. Why would they give that up by getting rid of him?
But, that's just my opinion. I could be wrong.
A Mild Case, but . . .
The doctor thinks I have a relatively mild case of MS. My symptoms are suble, and usually, whatever symptoms you have in the first 3 to 5 years is what you'll be dealing with through your life of the disease. So, I'm getting off easy, and I feel very lucky that they caught this with only 1 lesion showing up on my MRI, a little pain in my cheek, a little fatigue, and a little problem losing words.
But.
Did you know all the medication for MS is through injections that I'll have to give myself? I'm lucky that I'm getting the smallest dose and that it is only once a week. However, it's a bigger needle and has to go into a muscle (thigh, rump). I was pretty upset, but I'm starting to come around. I understand how this will help me. It will slow down the disease so it won't be too debilitating too early. And it reduces the number of lesions and relapses I'll have. And that's great. Unfortunately, it won't stop the symptoms I already have, so they will always be with me. Makes sense I guess, there's nerve damage. Can't repair that.
So, the nurse will come and show me and Al how to give the shot. Once a week for the rest of my life, I'll do this. Kind of hard to wrap my head around that. But maybe they'll have an oral medication in that lifetime. And maybe they'll find a way to create this medicine without it costing over $1,000 a month! Again, I'm lucky. I have a husband in the military with a good health care plan. There are ways to get help and insurance for those who need it, but how frustrating to have to be dealing with a disease, an injection, and the costs of it all.
A friend said I was so strong and stoic. Hmmm. I don't think so, really. It's just something that I have to do. I have my moments that I feel sorry for myself. And I imagine that the next day Al is at work, I'll be spending most of it crying into my pillow to release all this stress and fear. But, really, I know how lucky I am. I got diagnosed quickly and early, I got diagnosed at a time when there is medication available that will help, I have good health care and good health insurance, and I've got the support of my family and friends. I try to remember all that.
But.
Did you know all the medication for MS is through injections that I'll have to give myself? I'm lucky that I'm getting the smallest dose and that it is only once a week. However, it's a bigger needle and has to go into a muscle (thigh, rump). I was pretty upset, but I'm starting to come around. I understand how this will help me. It will slow down the disease so it won't be too debilitating too early. And it reduces the number of lesions and relapses I'll have. And that's great. Unfortunately, it won't stop the symptoms I already have, so they will always be with me. Makes sense I guess, there's nerve damage. Can't repair that.
So, the nurse will come and show me and Al how to give the shot. Once a week for the rest of my life, I'll do this. Kind of hard to wrap my head around that. But maybe they'll have an oral medication in that lifetime. And maybe they'll find a way to create this medicine without it costing over $1,000 a month! Again, I'm lucky. I have a husband in the military with a good health care plan. There are ways to get help and insurance for those who need it, but how frustrating to have to be dealing with a disease, an injection, and the costs of it all.
A friend said I was so strong and stoic. Hmmm. I don't think so, really. It's just something that I have to do. I have my moments that I feel sorry for myself. And I imagine that the next day Al is at work, I'll be spending most of it crying into my pillow to release all this stress and fear. But, really, I know how lucky I am. I got diagnosed quickly and early, I got diagnosed at a time when there is medication available that will help, I have good health care and good health insurance, and I've got the support of my family and friends. I try to remember all that.
Sunday, February 05, 2006
Gotta Be Smarter Than The Machine
And I'm not. But I finally got my avatar up. Actually, Jason, my brother, got it up for me. After many "why won't this work" emails, he got it to work for me. He even suggested this one.
Ain't Daily cute? Wow. This was in one of her fuzzy stages. We clip her in the summer, but let her get all shaggy for the winter.
Ain't Daily cute? Wow. This was in one of her fuzzy stages. We clip her in the summer, but let her get all shaggy for the winter.
Thursday, February 02, 2006
Diagnosed
What a stange feeling it is to know that you have a disease.
It was confirmed yesterday that I do have Multiple Sclerosis. Huh. And the only emotional response I had was, "Whew." No crying. No "why me?" No, pity party. I was actually relieved. Finally, there's a reason for why I have this pain and feel the way I do! I'm not crazy! I'm not a hypochondriac! I'm not a whiner!
Whew.
OK, I'm still a whiner, but not about being sick.
Everyone else was surprised. When one has a test, such as a spinal tap, everyone seems obligated to be optimistic. And I felt obligated to be optimistic right along with them, but I knew what the results were going to be. That's not being pessimistic, it's being realistic. It's just too much of a coincidence. I have a pain in my cheek that runs along the trigeminal nerve, the radiologist who reviewed my MRI said the white spot was consistent with patients with MS, the attitude of the neurologist changed while he looked at my MRI and he ordered a spinal tap, and the optometrist did a peripheral vision test and my blind spots are "larger than she likes to see." The cards were pretty stacked. The spinal fluid just proved what I already knew--I was positive for Oligoclonal Bands and IGG (immunoglobulin) in my spinal fluid. Patient is positive for MS.
So, my friends and family are wonderfully sympathetic and supportive. They are trying deal with the news. I'm ahead of them on that because I've been dealing with it for weeks now. I'm ready with my response that this is not a fatal diagnosis and it could be years and years before it gets really bad. If all I have to deal with is a little pain in my cheek, hell, I'm getting off lucky.
There is something scary. Of all the symptoms of MS (and no one has all of them), the one that upsets me most is loss of cognitive ability. Unfortunately, I think that's one of my symptoms. Not horribly noticable, but thinking back, there maybe some loss there. The most obvious for me is losing words. Now, I know everyone has moments when they can't remember a word. I understand how common that is, but at the risk of sounding like a whiner, it's not the same. I'll be talking to Al, and I come to a word I just can't say. I know what it is and I know what I want to say, but I just can't get it from my head to my mouth. It's more than "on the tip of my tongue." It's in a fog that it appears then disappears into, and I can't get it. I didn't forget the word, it's lost. And it won't come to me later. I can say words similar to it, and eventually, Al figures out what I'm saying and supplies the word for me. Damn. It is so frustrating. And it's very scary. What's the one thing I want to make a living at? Writing. And what's the one disease I get? One that takes away my ability to come up with words.
OK, so maybe I'm having a little pity party. It's really not that melodramatic, but in those wee hours when everyone else is asleep and my mind is racing, this is where it goes.
So, the goal now, besides getting to the MS clinic and getting on medication, is to enjoy and do as much as I can while I'm strong enough to do it. And I better get busy! There are stories to write, countries to explore, Scotch to drink, yarns to knit, and books to read (I'm way behind in my Ian Rankin books).
It was confirmed yesterday that I do have Multiple Sclerosis. Huh. And the only emotional response I had was, "Whew." No crying. No "why me?" No, pity party. I was actually relieved. Finally, there's a reason for why I have this pain and feel the way I do! I'm not crazy! I'm not a hypochondriac! I'm not a whiner!
Whew.
OK, I'm still a whiner, but not about being sick.
Everyone else was surprised. When one has a test, such as a spinal tap, everyone seems obligated to be optimistic. And I felt obligated to be optimistic right along with them, but I knew what the results were going to be. That's not being pessimistic, it's being realistic. It's just too much of a coincidence. I have a pain in my cheek that runs along the trigeminal nerve, the radiologist who reviewed my MRI said the white spot was consistent with patients with MS, the attitude of the neurologist changed while he looked at my MRI and he ordered a spinal tap, and the optometrist did a peripheral vision test and my blind spots are "larger than she likes to see." The cards were pretty stacked. The spinal fluid just proved what I already knew--I was positive for Oligoclonal Bands and IGG (immunoglobulin) in my spinal fluid. Patient is positive for MS.
So, my friends and family are wonderfully sympathetic and supportive. They are trying deal with the news. I'm ahead of them on that because I've been dealing with it for weeks now. I'm ready with my response that this is not a fatal diagnosis and it could be years and years before it gets really bad. If all I have to deal with is a little pain in my cheek, hell, I'm getting off lucky.
There is something scary. Of all the symptoms of MS (and no one has all of them), the one that upsets me most is loss of cognitive ability. Unfortunately, I think that's one of my symptoms. Not horribly noticable, but thinking back, there maybe some loss there. The most obvious for me is losing words. Now, I know everyone has moments when they can't remember a word. I understand how common that is, but at the risk of sounding like a whiner, it's not the same. I'll be talking to Al, and I come to a word I just can't say. I know what it is and I know what I want to say, but I just can't get it from my head to my mouth. It's more than "on the tip of my tongue." It's in a fog that it appears then disappears into, and I can't get it. I didn't forget the word, it's lost. And it won't come to me later. I can say words similar to it, and eventually, Al figures out what I'm saying and supplies the word for me. Damn. It is so frustrating. And it's very scary. What's the one thing I want to make a living at? Writing. And what's the one disease I get? One that takes away my ability to come up with words.
OK, so maybe I'm having a little pity party. It's really not that melodramatic, but in those wee hours when everyone else is asleep and my mind is racing, this is where it goes.
So, the goal now, besides getting to the MS clinic and getting on medication, is to enjoy and do as much as I can while I'm strong enough to do it. And I better get busy! There are stories to write, countries to explore, Scotch to drink, yarns to knit, and books to read (I'm way behind in my Ian Rankin books).
Tuesday, January 31, 2006
Haven't Seen A One Of 'Em
Brokeback Mountain
Capote
Crash
Goodnight, and Good Luck
Munich
Yep, Oscar nominations are out, and I haven't seen any of the films nominated for Best Picture. I did want to see and will see Goodnight, and Good Luck and Capote. But I'm just not intersted in the others. And can I go out on a line and say that I don't think Brokeback Mountain will win? I know that makes me some horrible homophobic person who just doesn't "get it," but I don't think the voters buy into hype or being told what to do. And that's been the attitude with this film--there's something wrong with you if you don't see the wonder/beauty/significance of this film. Or maybe I'm projecting my own feelings here. How the hell am I supposed to know how "the academy" will vote.
And you know what, I don't care. I used to love watching the Oscars and would get so excited about it. But as I get older I have less tolerance for celebrity and Hollywood patting itself on the back. I'm more interested in who wrote the films and who directed. Acting is hard to do well, I'll give them that. But any more, we are so innundated with information about these stars, that I don't get lost in a movie and it's story any more. I'm too busy thinking, "that's the actor who has been dating so and so and they met doing this other film" and any other insignificant little factoid that gets more air and print time than the point of the movie. And I don't watch interviews any more because sometimes I become so disillusioned with the star that I'm not interested in seeing them in the movie, no matter how good it's supposed to be. Russell Crowe is a perfect example. I think Russell Crowe is a genius, but I have a hard time watching him. Only A Beautiful Mind shook off the celebrity Crowe and sucked me into what was going on in the movie.
Tom Cruise? Cruised on outta here. Brad and Angelina? Double the number of movies I won't be watching. No, triple that--I'm not interested in seeing anything with Jennifer Aniston either. Collin Ferrill? Erin go bye-bye. And so many more.
It's just not worth my time any more. I don't even care what the women are wearing, but that's because I can't stand listening to all these people tell the stars how great they look, then go on morning shows and slam those same stars for their bad taste. It's so sad that nastiness is considered entertaining.
Capote
Crash
Goodnight, and Good Luck
Munich
Yep, Oscar nominations are out, and I haven't seen any of the films nominated for Best Picture. I did want to see and will see Goodnight, and Good Luck and Capote. But I'm just not intersted in the others. And can I go out on a line and say that I don't think Brokeback Mountain will win? I know that makes me some horrible homophobic person who just doesn't "get it," but I don't think the voters buy into hype or being told what to do. And that's been the attitude with this film--there's something wrong with you if you don't see the wonder/beauty/significance of this film. Or maybe I'm projecting my own feelings here. How the hell am I supposed to know how "the academy" will vote.
And you know what, I don't care. I used to love watching the Oscars and would get so excited about it. But as I get older I have less tolerance for celebrity and Hollywood patting itself on the back. I'm more interested in who wrote the films and who directed. Acting is hard to do well, I'll give them that. But any more, we are so innundated with information about these stars, that I don't get lost in a movie and it's story any more. I'm too busy thinking, "that's the actor who has been dating so and so and they met doing this other film" and any other insignificant little factoid that gets more air and print time than the point of the movie. And I don't watch interviews any more because sometimes I become so disillusioned with the star that I'm not interested in seeing them in the movie, no matter how good it's supposed to be. Russell Crowe is a perfect example. I think Russell Crowe is a genius, but I have a hard time watching him. Only A Beautiful Mind shook off the celebrity Crowe and sucked me into what was going on in the movie.
Tom Cruise? Cruised on outta here. Brad and Angelina? Double the number of movies I won't be watching. No, triple that--I'm not interested in seeing anything with Jennifer Aniston either. Collin Ferrill? Erin go bye-bye. And so many more.
It's just not worth my time any more. I don't even care what the women are wearing, but that's because I can't stand listening to all these people tell the stars how great they look, then go on morning shows and slam those same stars for their bad taste. It's so sad that nastiness is considered entertaining.
Heidi Sheds a Tear
We're all concerned, intelligent, good women. It's just that I feel stranded. And I thought the whole point was that we wouldn't feel stranded. I thought the point was that we were all in this together. The Heidi Chronicles
Wendy Wasserstein passed away yesterday, and I'm very sad. She was an extraordinary writer who wrote about so much more than "women's issues." She brilliantly found the point--the one under a surface that so many people can't get beyond.
The Heidi Chronicles was the first play of hers that I read, and even though technically I am not of the generation it is aimed at, I got it. I not only got it, I empathized with it. She made me understand how the events in Heidi's life had created who she was, and how important the feminist movement was and how it had failed some of its most ardent supporters. It's not that we aren't still feminists, or that we don't still want respect and support for who we are and what we do, not because of the what sex we are, but what happened to the support? Why can't women work together and be supportive of each other? Why must it come down to "that's the choice you made so now you have to live with it." How easy it is to distance ourselves from having to care for someone else by making a judgement on their life choices.
Heidi chooses a career and to remain single. In the end of the play, she has a baby. I loved the ending of this play. Was Wasserstein saying that after all the feminist rhetoric, the only true happiness for a woman is to have a child? I don't think so, but some will argue that. I think she was showing that there are many aspects to happiness. It's not a black and white world where you either choose a single/childless/working life or a married/children/homemaker life.
Her other plays are just as complicated and wonderful. The Sisters Rosensweig, An American Daughter, Third are just a few of her plays. Even though it wasn't one of her most popular plays, I loved And American Daughter. About a woman who is about to receive an appointment by the president when something relatively insignificant is dug up by the opposing party and will be used to stop it, the play is poignant and applicable in our current political atmosphere.
I'm behind in my Wasserstein reading. I think it's time I caught up. She's published a book of essays, and a novel is coming out soon. She also wrote The Object of My Affection, which explains why it is the only Jennifer Aniston movie I am even remotely interested in seeing.
Her deft hand, her piercing eyes, her honest words. She'll be missed. Broadway dimmed their lights tonight for her. And I think I'll do the same.
Wendy Wasserstein passed away yesterday, and I'm very sad. She was an extraordinary writer who wrote about so much more than "women's issues." She brilliantly found the point--the one under a surface that so many people can't get beyond.
The Heidi Chronicles was the first play of hers that I read, and even though technically I am not of the generation it is aimed at, I got it. I not only got it, I empathized with it. She made me understand how the events in Heidi's life had created who she was, and how important the feminist movement was and how it had failed some of its most ardent supporters. It's not that we aren't still feminists, or that we don't still want respect and support for who we are and what we do, not because of the what sex we are, but what happened to the support? Why can't women work together and be supportive of each other? Why must it come down to "that's the choice you made so now you have to live with it." How easy it is to distance ourselves from having to care for someone else by making a judgement on their life choices.
Heidi chooses a career and to remain single. In the end of the play, she has a baby. I loved the ending of this play. Was Wasserstein saying that after all the feminist rhetoric, the only true happiness for a woman is to have a child? I don't think so, but some will argue that. I think she was showing that there are many aspects to happiness. It's not a black and white world where you either choose a single/childless/working life or a married/children/homemaker life.
Her other plays are just as complicated and wonderful. The Sisters Rosensweig, An American Daughter, Third are just a few of her plays. Even though it wasn't one of her most popular plays, I loved And American Daughter. About a woman who is about to receive an appointment by the president when something relatively insignificant is dug up by the opposing party and will be used to stop it, the play is poignant and applicable in our current political atmosphere.
I'm behind in my Wasserstein reading. I think it's time I caught up. She's published a book of essays, and a novel is coming out soon. She also wrote The Object of My Affection, which explains why it is the only Jennifer Aniston movie I am even remotely interested in seeing.
Her deft hand, her piercing eyes, her honest words. She'll be missed. Broadway dimmed their lights tonight for her. And I think I'll do the same.
Sunday, January 29, 2006
Alton Brown Rules!
Just surfed over to Alton Brown's website. I stop by to check on the changes he's making every now and then. He said he's going to be doing a podcast! Yeah! Can't wait for that.
He's my hero. So smart, so talented, and so funny. I admit that I'm more of a Paula Dean kind-of cook, but I aspire to be an Alton Brown.
Plus, my husband likes him, too. Not so much for his culinary skills, but for his taste in motorcycles (BMW 1150GS and 1150RT--I think that's right). OK, he likes his recipes, too. We drank his hot chocolate mix all winter, when we were actually having winter here.
He's my hero. So smart, so talented, and so funny. I admit that I'm more of a Paula Dean kind-of cook, but I aspire to be an Alton Brown.
Plus, my husband likes him, too. Not so much for his culinary skills, but for his taste in motorcycles (BMW 1150GS and 1150RT--I think that's right). OK, he likes his recipes, too. We drank his hot chocolate mix all winter, when we were actually having winter here.
I want to have a good body, but not as much as I want dessert. ~Jason Love
I felt the need to bake today. I love to bake. I get completely abosorbed in the whole experience. Time slows down and I move in sync with the ingredients and the mixer.
I wanted to make a pie but decided that I didn't have time. Silly really. There's always time to make pie! But I wanted a little more immediate satisfaction, so I made cookies.
I love getting everything together to bake. I love my kitchen. Everything is arranged logically, for my logic anyway. All the baking ingredients and tools are in their own cabinet, so I move smoothly and methodically through the kitchen. I get the butter out early and give it time to come to room temperature. I get all my ingredients together in their own little bowls so that I'm ready with everything. Baking is precise, and I take my time measuring everything out. I feel like such a chef! As I empty each little (or big) bowl into the Kitchen Aid mixer, I pile up the bowls to wash later. Every movement smooth in my baking world. The rest of the world has gone away, and I really do escape into the act of making these cookies.
Butter. No margarine, no yogurt-based butter-like spread. Real Land-o-Lakes unsalted butter. 2 sticks. You can't bake without real butter. You may have to practice moderation, but you must use real butter. It's the key and the heart of cookies. Well, chocolate chip cookies any way. Sure, you could use shortening. They'll be a little chewier and fluffier, but you won't get that smell of butter melting throughout your cookies as they bake. You won't get the beautiful brown color on your cookies. And you won't get that slather of fat on your lips as you eat your cookies straight out of the oven.
Vanilla. Don't you dare use imitation vanilla extract. Ick! Real Madagascar, bourbon vanilla. It makes a difference and it's worth whatever you pay at the specialty food mart for it.
I made my cookies with a package of Nestle milk chocolate and peanut butter chips. I even followed the recipe on back of the Nestle package. That's unusual for me because I love my Southern Living recipe from years and years ago. But, what the heck. The main difference was 2 sticks of butter instead of 1 1/2. That made a big difference, too. The cookies were thinner and crispier around edges. And the dough! I've made myself sick eating that cookie dough. Oh, and I changed the cooking time. They suggested 375, but that's just too high for my oven. I stayed at my trusted 350 for 10 minutes. Works every time.
Now, what about my diet, you may ask? Two cookies won't kill me or my diet. And I did keep it to 2 cookies. I probably ate another 2 in cookie dough, but I ate only 2 cooked cookies. Moderation is the key to success. I was craving some baking time in my kitchen, and I was craving a dessert. This solved both my problems.
Of course, I'm still thinking about making that pie. The only thing better than the smell of butter baking in cookies in the oven, is the smell of butter and flour mixing then baking as a dough surrounding a mound of apples. Mmmmmmmmm. That's real comfort food.
I wanted to make a pie but decided that I didn't have time. Silly really. There's always time to make pie! But I wanted a little more immediate satisfaction, so I made cookies.
I love getting everything together to bake. I love my kitchen. Everything is arranged logically, for my logic anyway. All the baking ingredients and tools are in their own cabinet, so I move smoothly and methodically through the kitchen. I get the butter out early and give it time to come to room temperature. I get all my ingredients together in their own little bowls so that I'm ready with everything. Baking is precise, and I take my time measuring everything out. I feel like such a chef! As I empty each little (or big) bowl into the Kitchen Aid mixer, I pile up the bowls to wash later. Every movement smooth in my baking world. The rest of the world has gone away, and I really do escape into the act of making these cookies.
Butter. No margarine, no yogurt-based butter-like spread. Real Land-o-Lakes unsalted butter. 2 sticks. You can't bake without real butter. You may have to practice moderation, but you must use real butter. It's the key and the heart of cookies. Well, chocolate chip cookies any way. Sure, you could use shortening. They'll be a little chewier and fluffier, but you won't get that smell of butter melting throughout your cookies as they bake. You won't get the beautiful brown color on your cookies. And you won't get that slather of fat on your lips as you eat your cookies straight out of the oven.
Vanilla. Don't you dare use imitation vanilla extract. Ick! Real Madagascar, bourbon vanilla. It makes a difference and it's worth whatever you pay at the specialty food mart for it.
I made my cookies with a package of Nestle milk chocolate and peanut butter chips. I even followed the recipe on back of the Nestle package. That's unusual for me because I love my Southern Living recipe from years and years ago. But, what the heck. The main difference was 2 sticks of butter instead of 1 1/2. That made a big difference, too. The cookies were thinner and crispier around edges. And the dough! I've made myself sick eating that cookie dough. Oh, and I changed the cooking time. They suggested 375, but that's just too high for my oven. I stayed at my trusted 350 for 10 minutes. Works every time.
Now, what about my diet, you may ask? Two cookies won't kill me or my diet. And I did keep it to 2 cookies. I probably ate another 2 in cookie dough, but I ate only 2 cooked cookies. Moderation is the key to success. I was craving some baking time in my kitchen, and I was craving a dessert. This solved both my problems.
Of course, I'm still thinking about making that pie. The only thing better than the smell of butter baking in cookies in the oven, is the smell of butter and flour mixing then baking as a dough surrounding a mound of apples. Mmmmmmmmm. That's real comfort food.
Friday, January 27, 2006
She's the Cutest Dog Ever!
This is one of my favorite pics of Daily Dog. She's a PBGV (Petite Bassett Griffon Vendeen).
Daily Update
She's eating! She had stopped eating her dog food, but we knew she was hungry because she wanted our food and treats. So, after fighting it for too long, we bought canned dog food. I started putting it in her dish and she ate like a dog who hadn't eaten for a couple of days, which is what she is. I couldn't put it in the bowl fast enough. And the bet thing is that I can put her medicine in it and she'll eat it without knowing! No more fighting to get her to eat something with her pills in it.
Now, I'm worried about her teeth. What if she wasn't eating because it was too hard on her teeth? Putting her under to work on her teeth is dangerous since her heart is so big. So, she's eating, but what if she gets an infection because she has something wrong with a tooth.
I can't just be happy that she's eating. No, I have to create a whole new problem. Guess I'll just watch her and see.
Now, I'm worried about her teeth. What if she wasn't eating because it was too hard on her teeth? Putting her under to work on her teeth is dangerous since her heart is so big. So, she's eating, but what if she gets an infection because she has something wrong with a tooth.
I can't just be happy that she's eating. No, I have to create a whole new problem. Guess I'll just watch her and see.
Do Ya Have To Have One Style?
It seems unfair to have a house or apartment with many different rooms and only have one style through out it, doesn't it? But every real estate person will tell you that rooms that don't flow together don't sell well. And I worry about selling my house because I'll only be in it for 3 years, at least. I love my house, and I love all the paint colors that we chose and the new floor we put in the kitchen, and the shelves we put up, and the pub we are putting in the basement. But rooms that flow can also be a little restrictive, don't you think. I've tried to put something in red in every room, just to give a little spark in them.
And our real estate agent came by to see the changes and was impressed by the way everything felt warm and complete. The rooms downstairs are different colors, but they are all from the same palate (Eddie Bauer American Bungalow), with "Pecan" being the dominate color. Cohesion! Flow! Neutral, yet colorful! Hmmm. Guess I went too far with that last one. But at least the walls aren't off-white, like every military base I've ever lived on.
OK, back to the original point. There's a definite style to our house, and for the most part, I'm happy with it. It's not complete, but then again, it's not a showplace, it's a home. It's a kind of arts and crafts meets a country lodge comfy kind of house. But I was looking at cabinet door handles for the kitchen, and everything I went to, Al said was "too country" or "too modern" or "too contemporary" or "too cottage." And he was right. We have a quasi-Tuscan look going for the kitchen. Of course, it's not complete because it has oak cabinets and an ugly counter top. But, it's nice. And the new handles on the cabinets take away from the American Country look of the oak cabinets. But why can't I have the cool looking black handles? I think they're a nice contrast. Al thinks they look too modern. So, we tried handles that have a cool swirl to them, but they don't set flush on the door, so we'd have to drill a larger hole (I dont' want to do that). Then, we tried these black-ish handles that have a cool texture. But they look kind of small and don't have as much contrast. And we tried a mission style, which is really nice, but the kitchen isn't really mission. But the living room is, so maybe this would tie in? All I know is that we are taking waaaaay too much time picking out door handles. So, here's some pictures. What do you think, dear reader? One (you can't really tell, but it's pretty black), Two, Three, or Four?
I know, they aren't the best pics, and you don't have the whole room, but it doesn't matter. Which one looks best?
I'm kind of enjoying having a different handle on each cabinet. Maybe cohesion is over-rated. Maybe ecletic is the way to go. Maybe I should just shuck it all and go art deco! Al would like that. What he wouldn't like is English country cottage, and of course, that's what I really want. But, I want English country cottage in England. Or Scotland, actually. A stone cottage that's as old as the clans with a rock fireplace that has to be going all the time because there always seems to be a draft. And an auga in the kitchen that keeps that room always the warmest room in the house.
But I digress.
So, guess we'll figure out something. And my house will stay a palate of neutral yet colorful. And it will sell, and I'll have to start all over again.
But for now, I'm going to watch House. Such a cool show.
And our real estate agent came by to see the changes and was impressed by the way everything felt warm and complete. The rooms downstairs are different colors, but they are all from the same palate (Eddie Bauer American Bungalow), with "Pecan" being the dominate color. Cohesion! Flow! Neutral, yet colorful! Hmmm. Guess I went too far with that last one. But at least the walls aren't off-white, like every military base I've ever lived on.
OK, back to the original point. There's a definite style to our house, and for the most part, I'm happy with it. It's not complete, but then again, it's not a showplace, it's a home. It's a kind of arts and crafts meets a country lodge comfy kind of house. But I was looking at cabinet door handles for the kitchen, and everything I went to, Al said was "too country" or "too modern" or "too contemporary" or "too cottage." And he was right. We have a quasi-Tuscan look going for the kitchen. Of course, it's not complete because it has oak cabinets and an ugly counter top. But, it's nice. And the new handles on the cabinets take away from the American Country look of the oak cabinets. But why can't I have the cool looking black handles? I think they're a nice contrast. Al thinks they look too modern. So, we tried handles that have a cool swirl to them, but they don't set flush on the door, so we'd have to drill a larger hole (I dont' want to do that). Then, we tried these black-ish handles that have a cool texture. But they look kind of small and don't have as much contrast. And we tried a mission style, which is really nice, but the kitchen isn't really mission. But the living room is, so maybe this would tie in? All I know is that we are taking waaaaay too much time picking out door handles. So, here's some pictures. What do you think, dear reader? One (you can't really tell, but it's pretty black), Two, Three, or Four?
I know, they aren't the best pics, and you don't have the whole room, but it doesn't matter. Which one looks best?
I'm kind of enjoying having a different handle on each cabinet. Maybe cohesion is over-rated. Maybe ecletic is the way to go. Maybe I should just shuck it all and go art deco! Al would like that. What he wouldn't like is English country cottage, and of course, that's what I really want. But, I want English country cottage in England. Or Scotland, actually. A stone cottage that's as old as the clans with a rock fireplace that has to be going all the time because there always seems to be a draft. And an auga in the kitchen that keeps that room always the warmest room in the house.
But I digress.
So, guess we'll figure out something. And my house will stay a palate of neutral yet colorful. And it will sell, and I'll have to start all over again.
But for now, I'm going to watch House. Such a cool show.
Thursday, January 26, 2006
She's Lucky She's So Cute
Well, Daily came up to me and sat and stared at me. I petted her, but that's not what she wanted! I said, "Do you want something?" And she hopped in the air, turning around at the same time with a little, "Yep!" and led me to the pantry.
But here's the kicker. I got out a rawhide stick and held it in front of her, she sniffed it, and she turned her nose away! Obviously, she doesn't want that treat, she wants a different one. So, I got a different one, and again, she turned her nose up at it. Then, I got out the Denta Stix, and her tail started wagging and she started licking her lips. Guess that's the winner. I can't believe I actually kept bringing things out for her.
Then she jumped on the couch with me and pooted on me all night. What is giving this dog gas?!? It's worse than my husband's, and that's saying something.
But, she had a cough-free day, so I'm not complaining. Yesterday she was coughing so bad and having such a hard time breathing that I just knew I would walk downstairs this morning and she would have passed away in her sleep. Her poor little heart has gotten so big that she just can't go for walks any more. It's just too much for her. Plus, she's decided she doesn't want her dog food any more. Oh, she wants food, just not her dog food. So, she's getting roasted chicken and peanut butter (with her medicine hidden in it).
Gosh, that entry got a little sad there in the end. Sorry about that. She's a special dog, and it's just so hard to watch her not feeling well. She's our baby, afterall!
But here's the kicker. I got out a rawhide stick and held it in front of her, she sniffed it, and she turned her nose away! Obviously, she doesn't want that treat, she wants a different one. So, I got a different one, and again, she turned her nose up at it. Then, I got out the Denta Stix, and her tail started wagging and she started licking her lips. Guess that's the winner. I can't believe I actually kept bringing things out for her.
Then she jumped on the couch with me and pooted on me all night. What is giving this dog gas?!? It's worse than my husband's, and that's saying something.
But, she had a cough-free day, so I'm not complaining. Yesterday she was coughing so bad and having such a hard time breathing that I just knew I would walk downstairs this morning and she would have passed away in her sleep. Her poor little heart has gotten so big that she just can't go for walks any more. It's just too much for her. Plus, she's decided she doesn't want her dog food any more. Oh, she wants food, just not her dog food. So, she's getting roasted chicken and peanut butter (with her medicine hidden in it).
Gosh, that entry got a little sad there in the end. Sorry about that. She's a special dog, and it's just so hard to watch her not feeling well. She's our baby, afterall!
Oprah Tells Frey He 'Betrayed' Readers
Ya think?
Well, it's about time Oprah came around. She defended this writer because the "feeling" of the book is true. What? A memoir by its very definition is true, isn't it? Well, I guess that's the million-dollar question isn't it? What does define a memoir? Personally, I think a memoir is an over-priced, over-publicized autobiography. It's less egotistical to call it an autobiography and much more elegant to call it a memoir.
Guess Oprah found out she's not invincible. Now that she's received lots and lots of angry emails about her leniency with this guy, she has him back on the show and apparently (I didn't see it) rakes him and his publisher over the coals.
And just a quick reality check, people. It is the writer's job to fact check. Things that stand out and are questionable will be checked by an editor or an editorial assistant, but it's the writer's responibility to be accurate. Publishing companies barely proofread their galleys any more, let alone spend the money and time on fact-checking. It's very easy to blame the publisher for letting this get out, and yes, if they knew there were false statements and accounts in the book, then they are just as responsible. But if they never checked because they believed the hooey this guy was passing on and all they could see were the dollar signs the book would bring, they aren't responsible for the accuracy. They're just greedy like every other business in the world.
Well, it's about time Oprah came around. She defended this writer because the "feeling" of the book is true. What? A memoir by its very definition is true, isn't it? Well, I guess that's the million-dollar question isn't it? What does define a memoir? Personally, I think a memoir is an over-priced, over-publicized autobiography. It's less egotistical to call it an autobiography and much more elegant to call it a memoir.
Guess Oprah found out she's not invincible. Now that she's received lots and lots of angry emails about her leniency with this guy, she has him back on the show and apparently (I didn't see it) rakes him and his publisher over the coals.
And just a quick reality check, people. It is the writer's job to fact check. Things that stand out and are questionable will be checked by an editor or an editorial assistant, but it's the writer's responibility to be accurate. Publishing companies barely proofread their galleys any more, let alone spend the money and time on fact-checking. It's very easy to blame the publisher for letting this get out, and yes, if they knew there were false statements and accounts in the book, then they are just as responsible. But if they never checked because they believed the hooey this guy was passing on and all they could see were the dollar signs the book would bring, they aren't responsible for the accuracy. They're just greedy like every other business in the world.
Wednesday, January 25, 2006
The Cute Thing Daily Does
If she's standing when she poots, she runs away from it. It's like a booster pack--it makes her run faster.
This is Why Committee Work Sucks
You know, I thought that I would challenge myself and push myself beyond my boundaries. I thought this would be very good for me. I've been shying away from any kind of responsibility, terrified to have anyone relying on me to perform or succeed at something, so when the pastor of my church asked me to chair a committee for the new campaign drive, I said sure.
I'm a sucker because I can't say no. I'm too proud to admit that I might not be able to do it, and I'm too flattered that he would think that I would be a good chairperson.
So, here I am, calling people I don't know, asking them to be on this committee and sitting at a table with other committee members, as they stare at me, wondering what they have gotten themselves into and wondering why they can't say no. Well, at least we're all in the same boat.
It would be OK, if it wasn't for the rude woman I had to call. She left a message to my message that she couldn't give me an answer and she was told someone would call her and give her more information about what this is and that I was just going to have to call her and tell her about it because she won't give me an answer yet. Oh, and she doesn't answer the phone after 7, so I better call before then. Sheesh. Fine, I don't want you on the friggin' committee any way. But here's the kicker--after I talked to her (groveling in my apologies for not realizing she needed more information), she said yes! Well, conditional yes--yes, I'll give it a try. I'm in big trouble.
So, now I'm sitting here, dreading the phone ringing and being yelled at again. I left 2 other messages for 2 other possible members this morning. And I volunteered for this! I just keep telling myself, "it's only for 2 months, it's only for 2 months."
I'm a sucker because I can't say no. I'm too proud to admit that I might not be able to do it, and I'm too flattered that he would think that I would be a good chairperson.
So, here I am, calling people I don't know, asking them to be on this committee and sitting at a table with other committee members, as they stare at me, wondering what they have gotten themselves into and wondering why they can't say no. Well, at least we're all in the same boat.
It would be OK, if it wasn't for the rude woman I had to call. She left a message to my message that she couldn't give me an answer and she was told someone would call her and give her more information about what this is and that I was just going to have to call her and tell her about it because she won't give me an answer yet. Oh, and she doesn't answer the phone after 7, so I better call before then. Sheesh. Fine, I don't want you on the friggin' committee any way. But here's the kicker--after I talked to her (groveling in my apologies for not realizing she needed more information), she said yes! Well, conditional yes--yes, I'll give it a try. I'm in big trouble.
So, now I'm sitting here, dreading the phone ringing and being yelled at again. I left 2 other messages for 2 other possible members this morning. And I volunteered for this! I just keep telling myself, "it's only for 2 months, it's only for 2 months."
Tuesday, January 24, 2006
The Cute Thing Daily Did
Al is such a sucker for his puppy. Daily is pretty spoiled any way, but she's really spoiled now that her congestive heart failure has gotten worse. We feel so bad that she feels bad that she's getting lots and lots of treats. And her favorite is beef jerky. And jerky comes from the big guy by way of the pantry.
So, Daily knows Al is a sucker, er, that he is tuned into her needs. So, as Al was in his chair and on his laptop, Daily came and sat in front of him and stared at him. Every time he looked up, she wagged her tail. He said, "What do you need, sweetie?" And she wagged her tail. "Do you want something, honey?" And she wagged her tail. Then he stood up, and she stood up and wagged her tail. He said, "Well, what do you want?" So she led him into the kitchen and to the pantry door. Then she stood there looking at it, wagging her tail. She wanted jerky, of course! So, he gave her some, of course! And she was happy. And Al was happy. And who said dog's can't talk? Well, at least they can communicate!
The Overwhelming Affect of Fear
It's 4:01 on a Tuesday afternoon, and I have nothing to show for the day. OK, I did go to the gym, which is pretty great considering that I'm still feeling sorry for myself because of the spinal tap I had Friday, even though I should have worked out harder and longer. But ain't that always the case.
No, it's now 4:04 and I have nothing that I should have or could have been doing done. I have phone calls to make for the committee I'm on, but I absolutely hate talking on the phone. And I especially hate calling people I don't know. And I could be studying my Italian lesson for tonight, but this isn't for a grade or anything, and I know the numbers, which was the main assignment for tonight (zero, uno, due, tre, quattro, cinque, sei, sette, otto, nove, dieci--from memory!). I could be working on one of the 4 knitting projects I have going on. I could be painting my craftroom downstairs. I could be writing. I could be reading. I could be setting up deadlines and assignments for the committee members to hand out Monday night at our meeting. But I sat on the couch watching Poirot mysteries--ones I had seen before.
Why do I do this to myself? I just feel guilty and lazy. I've decided it's fear. I feel kind of frozen. And I'm having little anxiety attacks. I'll think about the phone calls I have to make, the test reults I'm waiting for, and the responsibilities of this committee I'm chairing and my heart starts beating a little faster. See! Just typing those words made my heart beat faster. It's silly, I know. Maybe I stopped that anti-depressant too soon.
Now it's 4:22 and I'm losing interest in typing this because Charmed is on. I've only see this one about 4 times, so I guess I have to watch it again, huh? Class is at 6:30 tonight, so I only have about an hour and a half left to dread it. Then I can come home and dread the phone calls I have to make tomorrow.
And did I mention that I'm still waiting for results from a spinal tap. A SPINAL TAP people! No, it wasn't that awful--getting the blood work was actually worse--but it's just the very idea that I had to have a long needle inserted into my spine and the fluid sucked out. And I was awake for it, too. But Al really came through for me and held my hands and kept me calm. Everyone is positive that the results will be negative. I'm not making any guesses--I'm screwed either way. If it's positive for MS, I have MS and will wish that I had changed my insurance over to USAA before it was too late to do so. If it comes back negative, I'm in for more tests. And if any of those include a needle being inserted into any part of my body, forget it! I'll live with the pain. It's a just a little discomfort in my cheek.
Well, that's enough angst for one entry. Think I'll go pet my dog for a while.
No, it's now 4:04 and I have nothing that I should have or could have been doing done. I have phone calls to make for the committee I'm on, but I absolutely hate talking on the phone. And I especially hate calling people I don't know. And I could be studying my Italian lesson for tonight, but this isn't for a grade or anything, and I know the numbers, which was the main assignment for tonight (zero, uno, due, tre, quattro, cinque, sei, sette, otto, nove, dieci--from memory!). I could be working on one of the 4 knitting projects I have going on. I could be painting my craftroom downstairs. I could be writing. I could be reading. I could be setting up deadlines and assignments for the committee members to hand out Monday night at our meeting. But I sat on the couch watching Poirot mysteries--ones I had seen before.
Why do I do this to myself? I just feel guilty and lazy. I've decided it's fear. I feel kind of frozen. And I'm having little anxiety attacks. I'll think about the phone calls I have to make, the test reults I'm waiting for, and the responsibilities of this committee I'm chairing and my heart starts beating a little faster. See! Just typing those words made my heart beat faster. It's silly, I know. Maybe I stopped that anti-depressant too soon.
Now it's 4:22 and I'm losing interest in typing this because Charmed is on. I've only see this one about 4 times, so I guess I have to watch it again, huh? Class is at 6:30 tonight, so I only have about an hour and a half left to dread it. Then I can come home and dread the phone calls I have to make tomorrow.
And did I mention that I'm still waiting for results from a spinal tap. A SPINAL TAP people! No, it wasn't that awful--getting the blood work was actually worse--but it's just the very idea that I had to have a long needle inserted into my spine and the fluid sucked out. And I was awake for it, too. But Al really came through for me and held my hands and kept me calm. Everyone is positive that the results will be negative. I'm not making any guesses--I'm screwed either way. If it's positive for MS, I have MS and will wish that I had changed my insurance over to USAA before it was too late to do so. If it comes back negative, I'm in for more tests. And if any of those include a needle being inserted into any part of my body, forget it! I'll live with the pain. It's a just a little discomfort in my cheek.
Well, that's enough angst for one entry. Think I'll go pet my dog for a while.
Thursday, January 19, 2006
Project Runway Rocks
I never watched reality shows. As a matter fact, I was very proud of the fact that I had never watched an episode of ANY reality show, including American Idol and Survivor. Until Project Runway. I watched the end of Season 1, and I sit on pins and needles waiting for every Wednesday episode of Season 2. It just works for me. The idea that these people are given a project and they have a short amount of time to use all their skills and talent to create a stunning design. And they are judged by other designers, only. No call in, no "America votes" so no popularity contest. The general public are idiots, as a whole (I include myself in this), so anything that doesn't include them is just a better show, as far as I'm concerned.
Now, I'm not that naive. I know there is no such thing as a reality show. It is scripted and people are planted and the producers have more say than the experts on the show. But I don't care! I love this show anyway! I'm sure the producers are just reveling in the fact that after last night's episode, there are 30 pages of emails on the message board about how they can't believe the judges let Santino stay and cut poor Emmett. Some of them even said they wouldn't watch any more because it was so obviously fixed. Oh please. Like they're really not going to watch any more. Not watch and miss Zulema call for a walk-off by the models and take Nick's model (I'm guessing that's what will happen)? And Jay, last season's winner, coming back to judge! Who would miss that?!?
I'm even playing the Face-off game where I pick who I think will win and who will be out. I'm not doing well at that game. It's kind of hard to guess when you don't know what they'll be designing. I just keep choosing Zulema to lose because I don't like her and I don't think she's very good. I usually choose Nick or Chloe to win, but poor Chloe will never win even though she is obviously the most talented. Her stuff is just too wearable and too nice. Not "designer" enough, I guess. But she'll be in the final 3, I'm sure. I'm guessing her, Santino, and Nick (or maybe Daniel, but I'm rooting for Nick).
It's a sickness. I'm finding myself intersted in fashion, too. That's really scary, because the only name I wear is LLBean. Or Victoria's Secrets. I don't have the body to worry about it or the money or any where to wear it to, but it's fun to look.
Sigh. It's Thursday and I have to wait a whole week before I see the next episode. I can't wait!
Now, I'm not that naive. I know there is no such thing as a reality show. It is scripted and people are planted and the producers have more say than the experts on the show. But I don't care! I love this show anyway! I'm sure the producers are just reveling in the fact that after last night's episode, there are 30 pages of emails on the message board about how they can't believe the judges let Santino stay and cut poor Emmett. Some of them even said they wouldn't watch any more because it was so obviously fixed. Oh please. Like they're really not going to watch any more. Not watch and miss Zulema call for a walk-off by the models and take Nick's model (I'm guessing that's what will happen)? And Jay, last season's winner, coming back to judge! Who would miss that?!?
I'm even playing the Face-off game where I pick who I think will win and who will be out. I'm not doing well at that game. It's kind of hard to guess when you don't know what they'll be designing. I just keep choosing Zulema to lose because I don't like her and I don't think she's very good. I usually choose Nick or Chloe to win, but poor Chloe will never win even though she is obviously the most talented. Her stuff is just too wearable and too nice. Not "designer" enough, I guess. But she'll be in the final 3, I'm sure. I'm guessing her, Santino, and Nick (or maybe Daniel, but I'm rooting for Nick).
It's a sickness. I'm finding myself intersted in fashion, too. That's really scary, because the only name I wear is LLBean. Or Victoria's Secrets. I don't have the body to worry about it or the money or any where to wear it to, but it's fun to look.
Sigh. It's Thursday and I have to wait a whole week before I see the next episode. I can't wait!
Wednesday, January 11, 2006
Sorry for Typos
Well, I guess you have to be smarter than the machine to use it. I haven't figured out the Spellcheck thing on this site, so when I went back and scanned the other posts, they are full of errors! That's so embarrassing. I guess just clicking on Spellcheck is not enough. And I'm so arrogant that I assumed I must have spelled everything correctly, even though I know that I'm the worst speller ever. An editor who can't spell--sounds like a bad joke, but sadly, true.
So, sorry. I'll try to do better.
So, sorry. I'll try to do better.
Living a Child-free Existence
My friend Amy told me that she knew she was ready to have a baby when she had a dream about an angelic, blond-haired little girl holding up her arms and saying, "Mommy." Well, I've had a baby dream, too. In my dream, I've had a baby girl, but I can't remember where I put her. And I keep forgetting I have a baby. A woman has come into the house to do some kind of home improvement and she says, "Oh, you have a baby girl," and I say, "No." She looks confused then motions over to the corner, where sure enough, there's a crib with a baby in it! "Oh, yes, of course, I have a baby girl. Huh. Guess I should check on her." There's no telling how long that baby had been there, and I begin to stress that there is no way I can properly bond now because the baby is too old, so hubby Al says, "Maybe we should put that baby up for adoption so she'll be taken care of." I'm very relieved and say, "Yes, I think that would be best."
So, I don't think I'm ready to have a baby. And considering that I'm going to be turning, ehm, 40 this year, I don't think it's going to happen at all. I'm ok with this. Yes, every Thanksgiving I think about how this is the one time of year that I wish I had a lot of kids and a huge family. And, yes, there are times I wonder if I made the right decision and what I'm missing, but overall, I have to say that I'm happy with my decision not to have kids. Many women, and men, can't understand and automatically assume that there is some physical reason why Al and I don't have kids. There is a physical reason, the idea of that much responsibility for the rest of my life makes me phsically ill and terrorfies me.
Now, I know there are those mightier-than-thou types who brag about how they don't want to add to the overcrowding problem in the world, so they are doing some great civic duty. Well, if you want to think of children as population, that's fine, but my reasons aren't nearly as noble. I just don't feel the need to have them. I like children. I love my friends' children and I would love it if my brother found a great woman to marry and had children, but it's just not for me. When I hold a baby, I don't get that down-deep tingle of "wouldn't this be great to have one of my own." I never have.
Basic of most basic of feelings, I don't want to have to go through growing up all over again, even if it is through my child. It wasn't fun the first time, why would I want to go through it again? Peer pressure, school, back-stabbing friends, weight issues, self-confidence issues. No. Not again.
Besides, I enjoy my time alone. I have time with my husband, I have time with our dog, who is a great low-effort companion, and I have time to myself, and that's all I have time for. I like being able to get up and go somewhere for a weekend; I like having the house to myself at night when Al has a night shift. I like that we can plan a trip to Italy next year, and maybe even squeeze in a trip to Scotland. Selfish? You betcha. But honest.
So, let's talk about the reactions I get. One "friend" told me after I was frustrated that her little monster screamed all the way through the store, that I shouldn't have children because I obviously didn't have any patience. Many people say, "Oh, but you would be such a good mom!" You don't know that, and you obviously don't know me. If I thought I would be a good mom, I would be one. Then there's, "Oh, I was going to invite you to the party, but you don't have kids and there were mostly families there." Actually, I was relieved not to be invited; she was right, I didn't fit in with that group. Then there's the tinge of jealousy, "Well, you get to do (fill in the blank) any time because you don't have kids." Or "What do you do when you stay home if you don't have kids?" And "Well, I'd like a little sports car, but with the kids, we just can't." Yeah, but if you had a sports car, you couldn't pull out in front of me as you run that yellow light with your kids sitting in the backseat of your huge SUV.
A few battlegrounds have been set: restaurants that will ask you to leave if your child is disruptive, and libraries that will take kids to the police station if parents don't pick them up when the library closes. I think we (I'm speaking as a general public "we") are tired of parents not being parents and letting their little darlings get away with anything and everything. I hate going to Wal-Mart because invariably there is some kid crying because he can't get down out of the cart or he wants that toy or candy bar. And I don't know how many times kids have run past my table in restaurants while the Moms sit and talk. They've gotten so used to ignoring their kids at home, that they easily ignore them in public. Besides, they're just being kids, right? I don't think so. If I had acted like that, my mother would have taken us home immediately, and I would have understood that it was my behaviour that made us leave early.
And then there are the people who get all bent out of shape because people without kids are giving them advice. Well, guess what, we live on this planet, too. And we have opinions and rights just like you do. And the world doesn't revolve around your children--your world might, but the rest of the world does not. And the fact that you have children doesn't add any more weight to your opinion or make it right that your kids are crying and screaming while I'm trying to eat a nice dinner or watch a movie or pick up something at the grocery store or trying to admire that piece of artwork at the museum. We have non-smoking areas in a restaurant, why not non-children areas?
Well, that's probably enough ranting for today. Yet again, all rant and no answers. But I guess that's how this outlet works. More later.
So, I don't think I'm ready to have a baby. And considering that I'm going to be turning, ehm, 40 this year, I don't think it's going to happen at all. I'm ok with this. Yes, every Thanksgiving I think about how this is the one time of year that I wish I had a lot of kids and a huge family. And, yes, there are times I wonder if I made the right decision and what I'm missing, but overall, I have to say that I'm happy with my decision not to have kids. Many women, and men, can't understand and automatically assume that there is some physical reason why Al and I don't have kids. There is a physical reason, the idea of that much responsibility for the rest of my life makes me phsically ill and terrorfies me.
Now, I know there are those mightier-than-thou types who brag about how they don't want to add to the overcrowding problem in the world, so they are doing some great civic duty. Well, if you want to think of children as population, that's fine, but my reasons aren't nearly as noble. I just don't feel the need to have them. I like children. I love my friends' children and I would love it if my brother found a great woman to marry and had children, but it's just not for me. When I hold a baby, I don't get that down-deep tingle of "wouldn't this be great to have one of my own." I never have.
Basic of most basic of feelings, I don't want to have to go through growing up all over again, even if it is through my child. It wasn't fun the first time, why would I want to go through it again? Peer pressure, school, back-stabbing friends, weight issues, self-confidence issues. No. Not again.
Besides, I enjoy my time alone. I have time with my husband, I have time with our dog, who is a great low-effort companion, and I have time to myself, and that's all I have time for. I like being able to get up and go somewhere for a weekend; I like having the house to myself at night when Al has a night shift. I like that we can plan a trip to Italy next year, and maybe even squeeze in a trip to Scotland. Selfish? You betcha. But honest.
So, let's talk about the reactions I get. One "friend" told me after I was frustrated that her little monster screamed all the way through the store, that I shouldn't have children because I obviously didn't have any patience. Many people say, "Oh, but you would be such a good mom!" You don't know that, and you obviously don't know me. If I thought I would be a good mom, I would be one. Then there's, "Oh, I was going to invite you to the party, but you don't have kids and there were mostly families there." Actually, I was relieved not to be invited; she was right, I didn't fit in with that group. Then there's the tinge of jealousy, "Well, you get to do (fill in the blank) any time because you don't have kids." Or "What do you do when you stay home if you don't have kids?" And "Well, I'd like a little sports car, but with the kids, we just can't." Yeah, but if you had a sports car, you couldn't pull out in front of me as you run that yellow light with your kids sitting in the backseat of your huge SUV.
A few battlegrounds have been set: restaurants that will ask you to leave if your child is disruptive, and libraries that will take kids to the police station if parents don't pick them up when the library closes. I think we (I'm speaking as a general public "we") are tired of parents not being parents and letting their little darlings get away with anything and everything. I hate going to Wal-Mart because invariably there is some kid crying because he can't get down out of the cart or he wants that toy or candy bar. And I don't know how many times kids have run past my table in restaurants while the Moms sit and talk. They've gotten so used to ignoring their kids at home, that they easily ignore them in public. Besides, they're just being kids, right? I don't think so. If I had acted like that, my mother would have taken us home immediately, and I would have understood that it was my behaviour that made us leave early.
And then there are the people who get all bent out of shape because people without kids are giving them advice. Well, guess what, we live on this planet, too. And we have opinions and rights just like you do. And the world doesn't revolve around your children--your world might, but the rest of the world does not. And the fact that you have children doesn't add any more weight to your opinion or make it right that your kids are crying and screaming while I'm trying to eat a nice dinner or watch a movie or pick up something at the grocery store or trying to admire that piece of artwork at the museum. We have non-smoking areas in a restaurant, why not non-children areas?
Well, that's probably enough ranting for today. Yet again, all rant and no answers. But I guess that's how this outlet works. More later.
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