Tangents & Tangles

Redecorating by Houdini, and Other Stuff

2012-01-27T09:31:00.000-08:00

This morning, I was putting my makeup on and heard this awful noise. I wasn't like...worried...really. It sounded like Houdini was just into something. He'd only been out of my site for a few seconds. (I put on my makeup downstairs so he can trot around, eat breakfast, play with his toys and have company for a bit before going to the hall for most of the day.)

I got up and started for the kitchen, and here he comes! Happy, wagging his little tail, all shiny-eyed and ecstatic because...

he's carrying a giant plank of wood. Wood that looks suspiciously like our floor. Our floor that covers half of our main level. And he's toting it by one end, and bashing the other against the kitchen furniture, stove and cabinets...

What the ???

It's our threshhold divider from the bathroom door...you know, where wood transitions into tile? That thingy that goes over it? He has removed it and brought it to me!!! WHY????

This is a new thing with Houdini. He has been with us for 9 months now. Things he has never bothered before (like pinecones in baskets, decorative twig balls and...threshhold dividers, apparently) are now fascinating and delicious.

He has never paid a lick of attention to the divider, but this morning it was simply irresistable.

The twig balls have been a bit of a grudge match all week long. Monday, he discovered them, though they've been there all along. Steinvic had the basket on the table when I got home from work Monday night. I put them back and we chased him away from them all evening. Tuesday night, he was after them. I distracted him with toys. Wednesday, I doused them in soapy water - which I even first tasted myself to make sure it was horrifyingly nasty tasting (it was) - to deter him from stealing them. No. Still yummy.

Since the basket of twig balls is safely on the table, threshhold dividers are the new preferred snack.

What to do with a pooch who doesn't understand the word "no."

Decorating by Houdini...it's a good thing he's cute!

The Boot

2012-01-24T17:55:00.000-08:00

So, as part of my experiment to reduce calories (beyond the norm) and increase exercise (beyond the norm), I joined http://www.myfitnesspal.com/ anonymously. It's a great site full of great people, all working to get healthy.

And I commented somewhere on the site, and as a result, was invited to join a group of women who were going to support each other.

When you join a group, there is a "newsfeed" on your homepage, that looks a lot like the dreaded facebook, where when others in your group post something (be it exercise, logging in under calorie alottment for the day, or posting in the forum) it shows up and you can comment.

I would give my daily "attagirls" and high fives when I'd log in, and so I was very surprised to get a personal message on the site asking why I wasn't participating or weighing in. Apparently, there was a required Friday weigh in for the group.

I have been down this weightloss road before...I know me. I had a scale and would weigh myself up to three obsessive times per day. Until Steinvic accidentally kicked it and broke it and I think it was one of the (mentally) healthiest things that ever happened to me. So, for me, this time, I have decided that I'm making a lot of deliberate choices for me...and one is not weighing in until I feel like it.

I will weigh on days where I feel light and pretty and confident. I did WW and it didn't work for me like it worked for everyone else...I had to walk excessively to acheive weightloss, while my friends followed "The Plan" and kicked butt. We're all different...whatever works for you, right? But for me, the weekly weigh ins and the "What did you do wrong?!?!?" exclaimations from a douchey group leader didn't do it for me. (I don't think most group leaders are so annoying.)

I weighed in after 12 days on my own unique plan and found myself down 5 pounds. YAY! But since I didn't weigh in on Friday, I got the email asking what my problem was.

Long story short, they booted me from the group because I explained that weigh ins without progress made me feel crappy. From a motivational standpoint, I need to do it when I feel like it's going to be good news. That if it wasn't good news, I wouldn't feel like eating a carton of donuts (never has been my issue) but I would feel bad and I want to feel good. "Accountability" from other people doesn't motivate me...I'm plenty hard on myself. So...no.

When I posted a "Farewell" on my newsfeed so that other group members wouldn't think I was rude, the group host went off on me! And I was unfriended by the entire group, save for two ladies...one who had my back and another who thinks I'm nice.

At the end of it all, I am amazed at the immaturity of "grown ups." This is why I'm not on facebook. I hear about this crap all the time!

I feel like the buck-toothed kid who no one wanted to play with all over again, but now...I don't give a damn. But how funny...I mean, really...To get ousted by a bunch of mean girls. I'm freaking forty. I don't have time!

So me and the four "friends" I have left on the site will carry on...It's still a great tool to log calories, but not such a great place to belong to a "group."

Me, myself and my calorie counts...

Whoosh Week

2012-01-15T10:34:00.001-08:00

Fastest week ever...

Things at work are still insane, but should be leveling out soon. I worked yesterday (Saturday) for a few hours. We have a rotating schedule for Saturdays and yesterday was my turn...so 8-12 and I woke up in the night last night not knowing whether it was Saturday, Sunday or Monday!

I've been sewing like mad...Houdini now has a couple new harnesses to choose from and I'm pretty proud of them all. I've made two denim ones and one St. Patrick's Day one. All that's missing is the velcro so I'm gonna have to make it to a real fabric store (our Michael's doesn't have many notions...just basics for embroidery) to stock up. The velcro is the hardest part...it's thick - I'm using industrial strength so that Houdini is secure - and very hard to put a needle through over and over. Mom said, "Use the sewing machine!!!" but I just can't. I like doing everything by hand.

But it's costing me. My right hand, especially, has been going bad over the last year, and recently, my middle finger and ring finger have become especially close. Literally. I can move them apart, but when my hands are relaxed, those two fingers are buddies. I have pain - it's not excruciating - and after all the reading this week, I really believe it's "just" tendonitis of some sort and not the dreaded carpal tunnel, which is what everyone around me says I have. But I am certain I don't...I don't have tingling or numbness. The pain is raditating differently than what every website says. I will go to a doctor, but I honestly think that 11 years of retail keying (before UPC scanners were popular), 13 years of editing at a keyboard, and a lifetime of crafty crafting are the cause, and this is just how it's gonna be.

I am still on it on it on it with the bike and the 1200 cal experiment. And while I don't think anyone else sees a difference, I'm looking for it and I'm seeing it in my face and how I feel (still less jiggly). And yesterday, the big victory...the jeans I bought in December that were snug? I pulled them off without unbuttoning or unzipping them! So, I still haven't weighed, but I think it's working. I would like to see how I'm doing at the end of next month, when we take our family trip...I hope that this will alllllllllll be worth it. Because I'll be honest...it's 95% vanity for me...

Twelve Hundred Calories and More

2012-01-07T08:11:00.000-08:00

So, it's Day Four of the little experiment I'm doing and so far, it's not too bad. I'm not freaking out if I go a little over the 1200 cals, which I'm sure last night I did - we stuck to our Friday Going Out and Bringing Home Pizza routine - because I'm in it for the long haul. I just honestly count those calories, and I'd saved lots during the day to use that evening. I haven't weighed myself yet, and I don't plan to until I feel a difference in how my workpants fit. But I know what I weighed when I went to the doctor in late November, so I'm going to go from that number. So, that's that...

I've been super busy at work, which has made the last three months go quickly there, and one of my team members suffered an injury and surgery that will keep them out of the office for a while. This is going to make things even busier for me for a while, but healing time is so important, and we'll work it out.

At home, I've been sewing and sewing and trying new things with that, and it's exciting. My Mom and I are talking about doing a craft show or two next year, and that would really be something...so I've got time to build up inventory.

Have you seen the Casey Anthony videos that have recently surfaced online? I'm not surprised that she's poking her head out to see what the reaction will be...this is someone who appeared to thrive on attention, and I can't imagine that the months of seclusion as she serves her probation have been easy for her. So...the only thing that will completely annoy me at this point is if she ends up getting some kind of reality show. That would be sickening...wouldn't it?

That's it from here...I'm off to do laundry, make coffee and get a little sewing in before Steinvic awakes...one of us had to get up with a tiny puppy who wanted to start his day... :)

Resolved

2011-12-31T07:13:00.000-08:00

It's New Year's Eve and while I don't make New Year's resolutions, I just happened to read an article this week that has given me information that I think will make 2012 a better year for me.

According to this lengthy - but definitely worth reading - article in the New York Times, once you've gained weight, and kept it on for a substantial length of time, your body alters metabolism in an attempt to regain the weight. You should read this...really...and then click through the slide show for the Bridges, a couple who goes to great lengths to maintain a healthy diet. The obsessive food measuring, calorie counting, and exercising? I've been there.

And everytime I'm NOT doing all of those things, the weight creeps back. Like...there is no "normal" for me where I can eat what I see thin people all around me eat, and not gain back every pound.

I have been a pescetarian or vegetarian for 20 years now. I don't eat fast food, much processed food or very many sweets (I rarely eat dessert and never drink sugared soda). I consume - because I've tracked it - about 1500 calories a day, (yes, including cocktails.) And while I don't exercise every single day anymore, the only times I have lost weight have been when I've been doing something significant (like walking five miles, five days a week or biking 10-12 miles a day, five days a week), I instantly gain 15 pounds. And there I am, back at the 40 pound total I'd like to lose.

That 40 pounds should not be the end of the world. I am a meticulous groomer, always always always made up and hair done, always well-dressed. Whether I've been a size 4, a size 16, or everything in between (and I've been up and down the rungs on that ladder a dozen times in the last 15 years), I've always looked the best I can for that size. I'm confident in that.

It's tough...my sister is a beautiful size 4...she's been an unhealthy 0 or 2 at times, but I think she is at a good, healthy weight now and on her very small frame, a 4 is fine. My Mom, even at my sister's thinnest, thought she looked great. But then, my Mother hasn't told me that I'm pretty or beautiful - not even on my wedding day - since I was in my early twenties. That is the last age at which I was effortlessly thin. She did tell me a few years ago that I looked better...that she wouldn't say I was "big" anymore. Before you think my Mother is cruel, please don't...she is just giving the the brutal facts that sometimes my Mom is (and my late dad was) famous for. It's okay. It's her truth and I don't have to wonder what she is thinking or if she is being honest...she is.

So, I guess my resolution for this year is to use the information in the article to get heather and thinner this year. I want to. I know I'd feel better about myself and I know I'd be healthier closer to my desired weight. I know it's going to mostly mean more exercise, and that it's not going to be a temporary thing.

But damn, it feels good knowing that I wasn't doing anything "wrong"...I am not a closet Ho-Ho eater! I'm not a slob or lazy. My body has just been fighting me. And now it's time to kick it's ass.

Here's to Ned!

2011-12-29T17:06:00.000-08:00

This is the best news I've read in a long while.

Congratulations, Ms. Pants! Couldn't have happened to a more fabulous person...

Nerf Car

2011-12-28T20:54:00.000-08:00

We both want the same thing...we want to make this exchange quick and safe, short and sweet. We both want to get home in one piece.

Three times in the last two weeks, the exchange where 275 E becomes 75 N/S has generated seriously scary accidents. Like the kind where even someone like me - who pledges to not look at those cars and individuals involved - doesn't have a choice about looking, because the accident takes up three lanes, and you don't know until you're right up on it, because it's bumper-to-bumper, and you have to signal for five minutes until someone "kindly" lets you over, and while you're waiting, you are forced to look at the wreck while talking yourself out of an epileptic seizure from the flashing lights.

All while you're praying that everyone made it out of the collision alive.

Overhead, a giant electronic billboard - courtesy of Champion Windows - reminds us this week to be safe when we drive. "Allow a safe distance between your car and the next." "Don't eat while driving." "Drive friendly."

I guess all of these are more constructive and specific than the ones I'd put up. "Don't text while you drive." "Pay attention, Idiot." "Don't be a douche."

It makes me wonder about making cars of Nerf. Or rubber.

Consider hiring a cab if you're going to stay out with the masses for New Years Eve, 'kay? If people drive like this in the daylight, sober...

The Holidays

2011-12-26T06:21:00.001-08:00

This is the kind of morning I love:

I have a big cup of gingerbread flavored coffee here. Houdini is sitting next to me, lobotomizing one of his Christmas presents (it was...like...a badger or something similar). Steinvic, Young Man and Girlfriend are all still sacked out from a busy Christmas of running around between our families' houses.

I woke up early and couldn't sleep any longer, so here I am. I could have stayed in bed a little longer, but someone's pee meter was running (Houdini's, not mine) and since he's been on meds for a UTI, I figured I better get up and get him outside.

Outside...it's cold but dry...we've had tons of strange, Spring-like weather the last few weeks, but the cold is beginning to settle in. Had all that rain been snow...yuck.

In a few minutes, I'll put on a pot of corn chowder, and sew while it cooks.

See how cozy this all is?

Christmas Eve had us doing Our Usual, which I'll never tire of - we went to our local, saw a few friends, gave extra nice tips and lottery cards to our favorite bartenders, then came home for drinks, appetizers, great music, and opening our gifts to each other (Steinvic went way above and beyond...I am spoiled.)

Christmas Day had Young Man and Girlfriend driving down from Cbus, then we all headed to my folks' house...dinner, music, visiting, and presents for all.

Then back here for opening gifts with the kids, and movies...then sleep.

Full day of family...can't beat it.

I hope your Holiday was just as sweet! Merry Christmas...

Another Product Endorsement For Which I Will Not Be Compensated - Nutra Nail Gel Perfect Nail Color

2011-12-10T14:18:00.000-08:00

Hello! It's been a while since I have given a product a big thumbs up here, so it's about time, right?

Gel nails are all the rage around here right now - either Shellac or Gelish are applied at the salon for between $30 and $40, and last about 2-3 weeks. I loved acrylics, but would obsess about every little bit of growth, and found myself going to the salon too often for fill-ins. I felt like I was spending too much money on fingernails, and I'm frugal about my self expenses.

And the concept of gel nails is interesting to me. I like to have my nails painted, but since the whole Incoco deal (only available online and now more expensive than before) fell through for me, I don't have the time to paint them only to have chips within a day or two. At the same time, for the money...I'd rather have my nice, big, insanely long, decorated acrylics that were my signature look for so long. And since I know that isn't a good option for the above reasons, I considered investing in my own system to do gel nails at home. Red Carpet makes a great starter kit that costs about $60 at Meijer, with additional polish colors for $10 each.

I was actually considering treating myself to the kit when I saw the Nutra Nail Gel Perfect Nail Color display.

For $11, you can give yourself a gel manicure with no UV light needed (the most expensive part of purchasing any of the the at home versions)...and not for just one manicure, because you'd have the whole bottle of color to use for multiple times. From a cost factor, this seemed like a win, so I thought, I'm giving it a try.

In each kit, you get three small bottles of product - an activator, the color gel and a small container of cleaner to use between coats to keep the color brush from getting goopy.

I shaped my nails, pushed my cuticles back, and scrubbed my nails with a nailbrush and some grease fighting dish detergent. I've found that this really helps with manicures...getting the natural oil off my nails seems to help with adhesion. I then slicked on a thin, even coat of activator on one hand, then immediately went back to brush on the color gel coat as instructed. After, I wiped the color brush clean and dipped it in the cleaner. Then, I repeated the process on my other hand.

Then, did the whole process once more on each hand.

Even though it was my first attempt, I was blown away. It was COMPLETELY dry immediately. I'm not talking the kind of dry normal polishes promise, where it's kind of dry but not really, and you can easily dent your nails if you don't sit still for an hour or so. I'm talking like completely dry, go ahead and wash your car/fold the laundry/dig a hole for your new swimming pool dry.

I used Dahlia, a very dark shade, and after three days, I had a chip. Because I am a polish picker, I did what I usually do and picked. Had I not picked, the manicure would have lasted much longer. But I took that color off and replaced it with another shade on Thursday night (I think it's Orchid, but I'm too lazy to get up and check right now) and I have not had a chip or scratch or anything. Amazing!

I've read some semi-negative reviews online from people who were expecting this product to perform exactly the same as the salon versions. I wasn't expecting that, so for me, this is a great DIY alternative that is affordable and reasonable. If I get a week out of a manicure, I'm pleased, especially since the application is so speedy. Also, please note, right now there is a $2 off your next purchase in each box, and $1 off on the remover coupon in each box.

I think if you give it a try, you'll like it!

Fortunate

2011-12-03T07:13:00.000-08:00

Tuesday, Steinvic packed up and went to Cbus for work. And I went to work, and it was an ordinary day.

Tuesday night, we got our first snow. Light, wet, and short-lived, Houdini discovered yet another thing about the change in seasons: if Fall generates free treats in the form of leaves, Winter brings free treats in the form of delicious snow.

It was after 8 and I'd sent Steinvic (by phone) a photo of Houdini's paw prints in the snow and after a while, checked for a reply and I saw that he'd tried to call twice. My ringer was off.

I called him back. Twice. Straight to voicemail. Something told me that something was wrong. I called a third time and a woman's voice answered, "Hello?"

Whaaaaa??? What the... and then I realized it was his cousin, Kay. Kay was talking a mile a minute and I said, "Wait...slow down..." and then listened as she explained that Steinvic was in the emergency room. She and her husband had run into him at the local pub and Steinvic said he didn't feel good and hadn't for a few days. (He didn't mention this to me!) And now he really didn't feel right and was worried. After talking about his symptoms, they took him around the corner to the firehouse where Kay's husband works.

Talk about miracles...Kay's husband is an EMT and a firefighter. After giving Steinvic an EKG and checking his blood pressure, they found his BP was extremely high and they - and a friend at the firestation - convinced Steinvic to go to the emergency room. He didn't want to go at first...was worried I'd try to drive in the snow, thought he should just go to his other cousin's house (where he stays when he's in town) and rest...but they said that he HAD to go.

When Steinvic got to the ER, his blood pressure was 223/120. This is, as we learned from the kind doctors and nurses, is the point at which people stroke out, have heart attacks and die.

So...about 15 minutes after getting the scoop from Kay and Steinvic and freaking the hell out, I was in the car heading for Columbus. Meanwhile, my folks were on their way to our house to pick up Houdini. Steinvic said, "Don't come...there is nothing for you to do." He was worried about me driving in the night and weather. But there was something I could do...I could sit with my best friend, who hadn't spent a night in a hospital since birth.

You know, you can make it from West Chester to downtown Columbus in an hour and eleven minutes if you want to.

And there I found my husband, lying in a hospital bed in the ER, hooked up to machines. I said, "This is not something I ever want to have to see again." You see, once, long ago, Steinvic had a brief bout of gout. He'd never had it before, and hasn't since. But at the Urgent Care, the doctor told him his BP was elevated. Steinvic decided it was because he'd been in such pain, and dismissed the idea. So...really, this has been brewing for some time. Plus, there is family history of high BP and heart attack, so it's in his genes, too.

We are so lucky... so fortunate that Steinvic ran into Kay and her husband, that he agreed to go to the hospital, that he didn't have a stroke or a heart attack. Steinvic could have died. Every time I think of that, I can't believe it...

And he is fine now. Steinvic is a smart man. He filled his prescriptions, bought a BP meter for our home and has been checking and recording it every day, and made an appointment with a doctor here in town - he hasn't had a doctor in ages - for Monday.

He promised to get this taken care of and to look out for his health. Steinvic keeps his promises.

The doctors mentioned several times that high blood pressure is the silent killer. You can go about with high blood pressure and not notice much of anything until it's too late. Some of the warning signs are blurred vision, headaches, feeling light headed and feeling nauseous. Aside from the blurred vision, most of those symptoms are things you might feel with a common cold.

So, the next time you're in the drugstore or near a firehouse, consider getting your BP checked. Firehouses - and I didn't know this before - offer this service for free, and so do most Walgreens.

It only takes a minute, and it could save your life.

I don't know what this world would be like without Steinvic, and I pray with all my heart I never know.

Very, very fortunate...

Days and Days...

2011-11-27T11:20:00.001-08:00

I had good intentions...fact of the matter is, I flat out haven't had time to post here!

Let's see...Thanksgiving was lovely. This is the first year in eight that we've had Thanksgiving in Cincinnati with my folks. It was just Steinvic, my Mom, my Stepdad, me and (of course) Houdini. No way we were leaving our little guy at home for his first Thanksgiving on this planet! We missed being with our Columbus side of the family, but it was still a really good day.

By the way...Houdini really likes turkey. I mean, REALLY likes it. Sadly, we've finally experience dog gas and we'll be limiting his turkey intake from here on out...

I cooked the green bean casserole (I put baby bellas, onion, red peppers and celery in my version, which I feel makes it taste a hell of a lot better than just plain green beans), mashed potatoes, rolls and I brought along something I've been meaning to try for a while: Field Roast. For my vegetarian friends out there, go ahead and give it a try. The Celebration Roast is very good and does not contain soy. I made a vegetarian gravy and basted it while heating and it was pretty tasty.

We are constantly aware of all the things we have to be thankful for...especially this year. Even though work is crazy for me these days (I mean, can barely leave my desk to go to the ladies' room crazy) and Steinvic is in Columbus more than we'd like, we're both lucky to have our jobs, health, home, family and each other. It's all worth it...

Friday, Young Man came for a visit, having spent Thanksgiving with his Mom. He joined us at our local and we had drinks, then we all came here for pizza and more visiting. Did we do any shopping on Friday, you ask? Steinvic went to the grocery for me, but that is as close as we got to shopping. Remember, I worked in retail for more than a decade, so the thought of being in a mall or in mall traffic or around people shopping does not appeal even a little bit. I stayed in all day Friday until we went out for drinks...yay! (Thank you, Steinvic!) And thank you for picking out this wonderful bone meant to keep Houdini busy...

And then there's yesterday...Young Man, Steinvic, Houdini and I did a pretty good job of chilling most of the day (sewing frenzy for me - hooray!) when Steinvic said something about golfing. I quickly found a course online and sent them on their way. I took the dog for a big walk then decorated our main floor for Christmas. It was just too nice of a day to waste indoors and I really wanted the two of them to go do something together. They brought home a tuna steak for me and regular steak for themselves and I grilled them on the patio...maybe one of the last decent days we'll have for that.

Now Young Man is on his way home, Houdini is looking for things to get into, and I'm feeling like I need to go do things, but don't feel like leaving the house! I can't believe how quickly this four-day weekend went, but it was all good.

I guess the Holiday Season is in full force now...especially since I've spent yesterday making Houdini a stocking, and all morning making him a Santa-style harness...photos to come!

Houdini

2011-11-15T17:27:00.000-08:00

Our puppy discovered television today.

Big butterflies on the screen caught his eye. He perked up, ran for the screen and put his paws on the television stand.

He watched the butterflies flying and beating their wings and started barking.

Total cuteness. These are barks you don't hush, even if it is 6:30 a.m.

Fall has introduced Houdini to "free treats." Free treats are wet leaves, little sticks and debris on the ground.

Houdini grabs them when we let him outside. He runs for the door, wanting inside so he can enjoy his catch in the comfort of his home.

Leaves can't be good for dogs, so we take them, of course.

Right now, he is rolling on the floor, working on a chewy. We watched him enjoying one last night, lying on his back, using the leg of the coffee table to steady his toy while he chomped away.

There is nothing more calming - or entertaining - than having a dog. And we adore him.

But he still can't sit or stay. He steals things and we have to trick him to get whatever goody he's got away from him.

So, we're researching obedience schools. We don't want to use the local pet shop chain because we've read that they hire just about anyone to lead their classes instead of formally trained specialists. For the same money, there are a few independent places that offer one-on-one training, even in your home, and we're thinking that might be the way to go. Though Steinvic makes a good point - it would be good to have him interact with other dogs.

(Houdini does not like other dogs.)

We hope to find the right trainer soon. You know...so Houdini can be even more awesome than he already is.

Too Quiet

2011-11-13T21:26:00.000-08:00

I've been quiet.

I've been thinking. And talking. And everything is fine.

Auntie Em...Auntie Em...

2011-11-06T16:22:00.000-08:00

I already know what it feels like...

The panic at the whiff of a tornado.

The sick sinking as you see it off in the distance, wondering if you'll make it to safety in time.

The desperate feeling as you tear through everything you ever knew, wondering if there will be anything left of your life when the tornado has passed.

The slap of reality when you can't make it to the storm shelter in time...

The bit of relief when the window pane caves beneath the pressure of the storm, smacking you in the back of the head so you can finally relax, even though that isn't what you wanted or intended...

I know what it feels like to not be in Kansas anymore. To be alone on a path that makes no sense and doesn't seem to have any resolution.

I've been alternately dancing and creeping along and picking at that journey my whole life.

Tonight, I'm looking at the long stretch of the yellow brick road and wondering if I have enough steam to keep navigating it.

I am having a tough time differentiating between what is a hazy illusion from a wispy, wizard image at the end of a long hall - not quite real - and what I feel in my gut. It's just not all clear.

I could stay right on this brick and shut the hell up.

But I'm clicking my heels and breathing.

And hoping.

November Already...

2011-11-02T17:19:00.000-07:00

What...did you think I'd disappeared? Eaten by a Halloween goblin? Of course not...Here I am!

Our anniversary was perfect. Steinvic and I both had to work, but we managed to have a nice date that night and a fantastic weekend.

There is a small, independent Italian restaurant not so far from us and we'd wanted to try it for some time. This was the right occasion...our first dinner together was at a great place in Las Vegas, and our wedding day celebration was at a fabulous restaurant in Columbus. So...keeping with tradition, we ventured out. We went to our local pub after and just enjoyed a night out together.

For our first anniversary, Steinvic gave me dishes. Don't cock your head at how practial that might seem. It's not...it's romantic. This means something to me. I've been on this planet for forty years and I've never had a full set of matching dishes. And not just a few dishes...eight place settings. Dinner plates, salad plates, bowls and mugs. All matching. Not chipped. Artsy and earthy at the same time. I love them and they were the exactly right thing...we'll enjoy tons of family dinners on them. And it was liberating to pack all our old, mix-and-match dishes up and take them to Goodwill.

I framed a favorite wedding photo for Steinvic. And bought him and his son tickets to an upcoming concert I knew they'd enjoy. Because there is nothing my husband loves more in this world than spending time with his boy...easy decision and I know they're going to have a great time!

The next day, we were off work! Young Man and Girlfriend came to stay with us for the weekend. Steinvic reserved hotel rooms for us downtown, so we went to Rockbottom for dinner, Mt. Adams to drink and take in the Cincinnati skyline and then stayed comfortably downtown. Totally fun night and such a treat to make the kids part of our marriage celebration.

Busy week after that, and then another day off...but not such a fun day for Houdini. He got neutered on Friday. Fully recovered, though. Miraculously. Like it never happened, except he isn't trying to mate with us 24/7. AND, we had some electrical work done...much needed to say the least. I'll post photos soon...computer is running out of juice, though.

And this Monday? Halloween. And Houdini wore this costume...fitting, don't you think?

So, that is the scoop! Highlights of the last few weeks. More soon, I promise...once I get this thing charged. (The charger died. I'm sharing chargers with Steinvic and he isn't here at the moment...)

Until then...

First Anniversary

2011-10-20T06:34:00.000-07:00

A year ago today, Steinvic and I got married in a tiny chapel in Columbus, and were accompanied by my parents and Steinvic’s Mom, Young Man and Young Man’s Girlfriend. It was windy, but sunny and clear...the leaves just starting to turn. Steinvic looked so handsome in his suit and tie...confident. It was a happy, fantastic, and wonderful day.

Our ceremony was short but meaningful, supported by years of love and long-distance commutes that still keep our union going. Our wedding was a celebration of a committment that was already there.

And the long-distance part and waiting was never difficult. I can’t tell you how many people have said to me, “I don’t know how you two do it. I could never do that.”

I never felt that way. The love has always been firmly in place, and when you’ve got that as your compass, everything else just falls in line. I miss Steinvic when he’s gone for work, but for once in my life, I’m secure. I know he’ll be back, and when he is, everything is fantastic.

So yes, there really are birds singing and crickets chirping and the sun shines every day and we’re skipping through tulips.

And while all that is happening, Steinvic occasionally secretly wishes that I’d stop telling the same stories over and again, and I marvel at how I’m the only person in the house who seems to remember to replace the toilet paper.

Because that is Life. But it’s LOVE that governs our world and keeps us immensely happy. And it is not hard at all to love each other.

I’ve learned a lot, this first year. I’ve learned that it’s good to give Steinvic his space and instead of pouting at him, encourage him to go watch football with the guys and that this is not just okay, but it’s healthy. (And while he is doing that, I’m doing things that I enjoy doing, like sewing or cooking and watching stuff on television that I know he doesn’t dig.) I think I’ve learned to be less selfish this year. And I have found new recipes beyond the five-dish menu (that served us well when we weren’t in the same house most of the time) and I’ve really gotten into finally beautifying our modest, yet comfortable, home.

And Steinvic has learned lots, too. Like that the little daily things - folding a load of laundry, emptying the dishwasher and taking out the trash - make me insanely happy. (I’m like that…these are the things that shout, “I love you! You’re the greatest!” to me.) He discovered that he’s a great husband who is tremendously devoted to the point that he will kill giant spiders while I jump up and down, shrieking. He offers to do things that will make my life easier, like going to the grocery or marinating carrots for me. These are HUGE things for me because it means I have less stress, more quality time with him, or even just some me time. And, Steinvic also learned that what seems like a big concession can actually turn out to be a quite a blessing.

How we enjoy Houdini!

While I was living my life up to the point of finding Steinvic, nothing seemed clear to me. All the paths and twists and turns on my journey felt like a trip through a brier-filled, tangled, confused, dark, rainy forest. I had no sense of direction or even any wants any longer. I was just surviving. But after finding Steinvic, things started to come into focus, and I felt like this.

I’m so proud of our marriage. So much joy in just one year! I’m truly the luckiest girl in the world...

Happy Anniversary, Steinvic...and thank you.

Slipping Away

2011-10-12T05:29:00.000-07:00

Occasionally, we have friends or family over to stay. Whenever this happens, I go into a frenzied panic, trying to make our place better than it’s ever been.

I know what you’re going to say. You’re going to say “friends and family understand that you and Steinvic both work full-time-plus jobs and that he’s gone a chunk of every week and that it’s tidy and sanitary so it doesn’t matter and they won’t mind if your closets are cluttered.”

Thank you. That is kind of you. But it doesn’t help my pride! My senses of pride and hospitality make me deeply desire a wonderful visiting experience for all of our guests. I can coast along with the status quo – clean kitchens and bathrooms, laundry done, floors swept and vacuumed – when it’s just Steinvic and I, but once you throw someone else into the mix, be it friend, family or repair person, I go nuts.

But nuts for me equals productive. It’s how I roll.

I once had the experience of buying new furniture. I left it – with most everything else I ever owned – where I used to stay. (It seemed a fair trade...I got to leave on my own accord, vertical instead of horizontal. To hell with new furniture and other material ties!) So, my sweet folks gave me their couch and loveseat when I set out on my own. I somewhat expertly recovered it with remnants I found at a fabric store. But then I had a kitty who thought this furniture was for claw sharpening. While she passed away several years ago, her artwork remains. I’ve trimmed and tucked the stray bits and strings here and there, the couch and sofa embarrassed me. (And we for some reason didn't think we needed to keep Steinvic's couch and sofa when he moved to Cincinnati. I don't know why! They were pretty! But didn't really match our decor...I guess that was why.)

No one who has visited has ever given our furniture the side-eye, but I do. And I’ve hunted for slipcovers, but since we got Houdini, they didn’t seem like a good option, since many have little ties or strings. These would be dog toys for him…I can envision him pulling on them over and over, yanking away like he does to us with his pull toys. Also, slipcovers can be really hideous and expensive.

But, as I discovered this week, they can also be quite lovely and fit nicely. And when accented by a few cushions, not bad at all. (Pardon the tags…I left them on so Steinvic could give the thumbs up first.)

I found these at Old Time Pottery for about a third of what they cost everywhere else. The pillows were a perfect match, too. Total bill - $100.

What do you think? Thumbs up? The rest of this mini-makeover resumes tonight…stay tuned.

Occupy This…

2011-10-10T09:37:00.000-07:00

I don’t get it. I could be stupid. If I am, please set me straight. I really do want to understand this...

After seeing the Occupy Wall Street movement in the news for several weeks, I finally decided to look up their website to see what this is all about.

While there are some declarations on the site that I seem to agree with, I’m not really getting the point of the demonstrations. (Technically, I'm a 1%er, too. Which makes me wonder why the celebrities are coming out to support...do they make less than $250,000 per year? I think not...)

What exactly is it that these protesters want Wall Street executives to do?

Whether it's a business or a club, I think every good organization has a mission statement and specific goals. I’m not saying it has to be something carved on a plaque that every member memorizes and can recite at a moment’s notice. But if you’re going to take time off work, leave your home and go protest something, shouldn’t there be a specific, desired end result?

If it’s just to increase awareness, and that is the goal, then it’s a single one time event, right? Not an indefinite stay. You organize the event carefully, raise any necessary funds, communicate about it, have the event, then take the funds you raise to do whatever it was you set out to do in the first place.

I saw a link on the site for monetary donations to be sent because the protesters are running low on food. Wait. You are low on food because you aren’t at your house. There is probably food at your house. You should go there. If you want money to help people who really need food and resources because they have no means to get it, I’ll totally help you out. But if you’ve essentially put your own self into a situation where you have no food or resources, it further makes me doubt the sensibility behind this “movement.”

Plan ahead. Pack some protein bars and fruit and nuts and water and vitamins and toilet paper. Make sure you bring enough to share. But please don’t ask for donations when you don’t have a plan and I don’t know where the money is going, how it’s going to be distributed, who is in charge of the funds and how they’re going to be accounted for later on.

While you gaze up at those pesky (yes, likely overpaid and opulently-living, but also hard-working and enterprising) business executives in their beautiful Wall Street buildings, think about the innovation and careful planning that went into each one of those businesses. And then maybe...you know...apply some of that planning to your movement.

You’re asking America to “look down and take notice.” I'm looking, but I'm not noticing. Decide what it is that you want Wall Street – and me – to see or do and then get my attention. Please. Thank you.

So Far, I'm Not Full of It...

2011-09-29T06:03:00.000-07:00

Monday, eight miles on the recumbent stationary bike.

Tuesday, eight miles on the recumbent stationary bike.

Wednesday, five miles on the recumbent stationary bike. (I would have done more, but it was getting late and I wanted to make time to iron some shirts for Steinvic. Not that he wanted me to or that he'd have cared if I didn't, but when he's gone, I like to do things to help him out. Makes me feel closer somehow and miss him just a tiny bit less. By the way, Houdini is wonderful in many ways but he is NOT a good helper on ironing. Cute, though...very, very cute.)

I'd be walking and walking Houdini, too, but it's been raining. Houdini does not like wet paws. I know, right? We've already been shopping for boots for His Majesty for when the snow hits. THAT should be interesting.

I'm sticking to the morning smoothie, mixing it up a little with different fruits and yogurts that Steinvic picked up last weekend.

Light lunches. Light dinners. Stretching and moving a little more at work.

And you know something? I pulled on a pair of jeans last weekend, one size smaller. They were snug, but they fit and weren't so tight that I looked foolish or couldn't wear them.

It's progress. Slow, steady, progress, but enough to encourage me to not slack.

Here's to keeping promises, especially the ones that you make to yourself...

Patti Stanger is an Idiot.

2011-09-27T06:55:00.000-07:00

When Millionaire Matchmaker first came out, I watched it peripherally, wondering how anyone wealthy would sign up for Patti’s services, much less want to be featured and humiliated on her show.

From the insulting suggestions she makes to date candidates, to the way she clearly delights in cutting down the millionaires she’s supposed to be helping, Ms. Stanger has never been appealing. In fact, the very way she reviews potential clients at the beginning of her show implies that people should feel lucky if she “accepts” them into her Millionaire’s Club.

Lucky. Like, rule #1 of providing good customer service is making your customers feel special, right? Not that they’re fortunate?

I have been reading about how Ms. Stanger opened her botox-riddled face to comment on “the gays” on Andy Cohen’s show on Sunday. One more reason to not like her. As if we needed more!

I think she’s probably lost a lot of viewers over this and maybe even a few of her “gay friends” (or Jewish friends, since she took a swipe at Jewish men, too.)

In my experience, people who have to point out that they’re friends with folks in different race/sexual orientation/monetary groups than themselves usually have some kind of guilt they’re trying to cover. It’s like Archie Bunker saying he has black friends. That makes all the rest of the bigotry and prejudice okay, right?

Right.

Boycott Patti Stanger’s show. Let’s hope Bravo cancels it. What a douche.

Get It Together

2011-09-18T19:16:00.000-07:00

So, I spent the summer not doing what I needed to do to get fit, feel healthier and look better.

I didn’t do it.

I did whatever the hell I wanted, eating whenever or whatever (which still isn’t as “bad” as what most folks typically eat), drinking when I felt like it and - most importantly - not exercising every day or even most days.

Some days, but not regularly.

I’ve been reading and I’ve been researching and I am back on board. Again.

It’s much more simple this time. And simple seems to work best for me:

Before work, I am taking the time to make a smoothie in the morning with unsweetened organic coconut or almond milk, a scoop of whey protein, a banana and a little strawberry yogurt. In the vintage blender my Grandma gave me, which somehow makes it taste better.

During the work day, I’m getting up at least once an hour at work and going somewhere in the building. I am moving because sitting is killing me. I am breathing deeply and preventing my posture from sucking.

I am packing baggies of vegetables to eat. Cucumbers, carrots, celery. Washington apples. Tablespoons of unsweetened organic peanut butter* to spread lightly on whole wheat crackers if I am starving. But just little bits of this and that. Small amounts of goodness to fuel me as I need it. I’m not on a schedule any more.

And then the evenings…the evenings will have a big walk or a bike ride in them. Not stressing any more about “when” it happens…I used to break my neck to get that bike ride in before 7:00 p.m. because someone once told me I had to have my exercise over by then or I wouldn’t sleep well. To hell with that. If I want to ride my bike while I watch a movie or show between 7 and 8:00, that is what I’m going to do. If Houdini wants to go for a W at 8:15, we will go. The sleep will work itself out. I can't believe how many good, nonstressed workouts I missed because I tried to follow the 7 p.m. rule. Dumb!

Drinking only a lovely glass of wine or two if I feel like it. Eating a typical meal…which is almost always healthy and homemade for us. Lots of water…not forcing it but drinking it when I’m thirsty.

Not stressing it and pushing this new norm on the weekends. Not abandoning the new norm, but not beating myself up if we have pizza one night or I have some cocktails with Steinvic.

Herbal teas. Foods and drinks that smell dark and earthy. (I am on a quest to find figs. I crave them. I need to find out what the main nutrients are in them to see what I’m missing because I borderline obsess over them, and not the Fig Newton kind...the little, fresh hard-to-get kind.)Good things that make sense.

I’m doing this because it’s time. And I feel better already.

*So, while label-reading, I learned that even in the sacred organic aisles, horrors can lurk. You’re buying peanut butter. It should be…peanuts mashed up, right? So, why did every brand but one have tons of other ingredients?

"If In Doubt..."

2011-09-16T06:43:00.000-07:00

"...don't." This is a wise bit of advice my precious Grandma gave me and reminded me of throughout my formative years.

I have to admit that any time I didn't apply that bit of wisdom to my decision making, I regretted it horribly and found myself in a bad way.

So...when I see the headline that Scarlett Johansson is among the other unfortunate women who have taken nude photos of themselves with their phones and had their accounts hacked, I find myself wishing that they had someone in their lives who loved them as much as my Grandma loved me.

I mean seriously...what did I miss? When did it become a good idea to snap photos of yourself naked, and save them to your phone and carry that phone around with you? Like...would you carry your diary around with you? Noooope! (Chuck Testa!) You would not. You'd hide it because it had private thoughts and feelings in it that you didn't want anyone to read or know. And those are just words! Don't you think nekkid pictures would be more private than a diary? I would! And I wouldn't be carrying them around with me...on my phone! A phone that could get stolen or lost! A phone that has a network attached to it. No!

And before you snark something like, "If you had a body like Scarlett Johansson's, you might understand," let me explain...

It isn't just Scarlett or Vannessa or Rihanna. It's apparently all kinds of young people...heck, older people, too...guys and girls, men and women...they've all lost their minds! What on Earth compells someone to do this?

I'm totally not a prude. I honestly don't care about nudity...if you want to be naked and take little freaky photos and have the whole world see you and your goods, rock on. That's totally your business. (Literally...ha!)

BUT! If you take a photo of yourself on your cell phone and it ends up getting out there for the whole world to see, you're not allowed to complain about it.

If you're in high school, and your boyfriend begs you for an intimate shot and you cave, BOOM! You've probably just porned yourself. That's right, I just made porn a verb. You've porned yourself and at some point, that silly boy is going to show his friends your private parts or forward it to someone else or post it online and then there you are. You're going to break up with that dude and you won't be able to get those pictures back and where does that leave you? Embarrased, ashamed, regretful...and naked. For everyone. Which isn't what you intended, but it happened anyhow.

If in doubt, Scarlett...if in doubt, ladies and gentlemen...don't. Think beyond five minutes from now. Those thoughts will be a good investment.

(It's so scandalous every time it happens to someone famous that I can't help but to think celebrities WANT this kind of attention. By now, if I were famous and it happened to one of my celebrity colleagues, the first thing I'd do is run home and delete any of the images I may have unfortunately and foolishly taken of myself.)

By the way, the other thing that my Grandma used to say to me when I was lamenting over not being like everyone else/doing what everyone else was doing was, "Don't be common."

Damn, I miss her.

Do You Live in D.C.? Watch For Sassafras!

2011-09-14T10:51:00.001-07:00

I saw this story online this morning and thought I'd share it, just in case there is anyone reading this blog who lives in the Washington D.C. area.

And...also because it is heartwarming how devoted this family is to Sassafras. Reading how the community is chipping in to help find a lost pup is really moving.

Enjoy...and please send good wishes to Sassafras and her humans!

Not All Fruits & Veggies Are Safe for Dogs!!!

2011-09-10T07:28:00.000-07:00

I am totally stupid.

When we got Houdini, I already knew we’d give baby carrots as treats. A friend did that with her dog in college and I was impressed by how white her dog’s chompers were. We have other friends and families who do this so we followed suit. Houdini loved them at first, then got bored with carrots and so I quit buying them.

But since I’m a pescetarian – and Steinvic thankfully eats anything I prepare – there are lots of vegetables in our house at all times. In fact, I probably really only eat fish once a week, then the rest of the time it’s Veggie City.

So, whenever I labor at the cutting board, if Houdini begged for a bite of whatever I was chopping, I’d toss it down to him. We don’t really give him lots of table food…he gets a plain piece of pasta or a few bits of cooked bacon here and there, but veggies and fruits we felt good about, because they’re natural and unprocessed and Houdini could encounter these items in nature and eat them.

Boy, was I wrong.

Two of the cute, compact foods that we give Houdini regularly are toxic to dogs: grapes and tomatoes.

Who knew? We sure didn’t! And if the chatty bagger at the grocery hadn’t informed me of this yesterday, oh so casually (because she and the cashier were marveling at the grapes I bought, and I mentioned that our dog would be thrilled,) I’d have never googled it and we’d still continue to give Houdini all the grapes and tomatoes he wanted.

And he would probably have died.

And then what would we have done? Life without Houdini? And life without Houdini because we fed him something that harmed him?

THANK GOODNESS for the bagger at the grocery store! I feel so dumb…

If It Ain't Broke...

2011-09-01T07:07:00.000-07:00

I just saw the trailer for the remake of Footloose. One word:

Why?

And now some more words about it;

I don’t get it. At the time that Footloose came out, musicals had made a bit of a resurgence and soundtracks for films dominated the music charts and our lives. Saturday Night Fever, Annie, Fame, Stayin’ Alive, Grease, The Wiz, Tommy…just to name a few.

My soundtrack to junior high school included Purple Rain and Footloose. Good times. I can remember making up dance routines to songs with friends and buying those lyric magazines (remember those, J?) and learning the words to every pop song on the radio.

It was a musical time that was becoming visual. MTV still played music videos all the time and the marriage of miniature stories with music was ideal. The videos weren’t always even that good, but you got to see the band, a little of their attitude and hear some good songs. It stood to reason that a movie jammed with pop music worked - it was like seeing an hour and a half long music video.

And of course, the story of Wren McCormick just trying to have a little fun in a repressed, sleepy, danceless town was enough to get teenagers into the theaters and out buying Footloose cassettes. (yeah, I think I still have mine…) It did not hurt that Kevin Bacon was terribly cute and a great dancer. All of the elements of the classic, perfect musical were right there – song, love, rebellion, conflict and a happy ending.

So…28 years later, Hollywood thinks it can remake this story and it will resonate with today’s teens? Kids today do pretty much whatever they want to do! They wouldn’t go through the trouble of organizing a secret dance across county lines. They wouldn’t care so much about what their parents thought. Kids grew out of rules and lying about secret dances in the 90s when Raves were all the rage.

Today, kids would hop online, find out where the party’s at and just go. They may or may not tell their parents where they were going. I’m not bashing kids of today, but they are WAY more independent (this is good and bad) than they were in the 80s when this movie was created.

My point – today’s kids don’t need to be encouraged to think independently or to rebel...they do it naturally. I don’t mean to sound like an old fogey, and I haven’t seen the whole movie obviously, but unless there are some major twists to the rest of the plot, I’m not getting how it’s relevant today.

Also, not to blast…Julianne Hough is lovely, but she looks like she could be Kenny Wormald’s (who?) very young-former-teenaged-mom or way older sister in a family where Kenny was a menopause baby. Kinda creepy. I know she's only 23, but dang.

The only thing worse than this remake is if they’d done a sequel where Kevin Bacon and Lori Singer are now adults with children who are rebellious in some other scenario, or if they portrayed parents trying to convince the PTA in some other small town to have a dance.

Let’s stop with the remakes, ‘kay?

As Close to Flying As I'll Get

2011-08-30T13:25:00.001-07:00

I have a good walk in the morning, from my car through the huge parking lot to the entrance of the building that houses my lovely job. I don't get there as early as I used to, which makes my walk even longer, since thousands of people work in my building.

I don't mind.

I busy myself, usually fiddling with my iPod while peripherally minding the traffic.

I’m still aware of what is around me, but even if I notice someone I recognize nearby, I’m likely to appear too distracted call over to them. My little walk through the lot is my time.

There are geese – and I mean to say tons of them – who gather around the perimeter of the parking lot. Our lot used to be their home. They still try to make it so every Spring and they stay around through Fall, sometimes poking at the ground even after the first frost. The geese are completely unfriendly and territorial. They are also consistent and loyal.

For the last two qualities, I love those vicious, primitive, elegant, gray geese.

I actually have a little thing about birds in general. I love to see them fly. I am fascinated by them… not enough to study them, but enough to pay attention to them. Blackbirds flocking up and back in their cryptic formations; tiny yellow finches darting in and out of our trees; electric hummingbirds vibrating around a red, globed feeder at our family’s place in Arizona. And I really like when the giant bone-pickers (the large, predatory birds who manage road-kill) circle the highway as I travel along, so I can see their huge wingspans as they float above.

This morning, it was unusually quiet as I walked in, and far off, I could hear a flock of geese approaching. Soon, they were nearly overhead, and as they passed right in front of me, just five feet above my height, they stopped honking for about three seconds.

And in that moment, all I could hear in the world was the thick, lush sound of their enormous wings. It was magnificent.

I felt a lump in my throat and an involuntarily sad-happy smile…the kind you get when something is just so…haltingly beautiful…here and then gone. I felt wistful. Thankful.

I hope I hear that sound again someday. I can still hear it, but...

The beating of wings.

(I know, I’m a sap.)

Justice on the Brain

2011-08-24T05:56:00.000-07:00

Random thoughts from the week...

OF COURSE Casey Anthony could not serve probation while she was in jail... I mean, isn't probation where you have the opportunity to mess up again but don't because The System has "rehabilitated" you? C'mon...how can you write bad checks again from behind bars?

And speaking of justice...yes, Casey should have to pay money back to the State of Florida since she admittedly LIED to the police and sent everyone on a wild chase searching for her daughter, when she knew her daughter was dead the entire time.

I do not agree with people who are bashing Cindy and George Anthony for doing an interview. If they'd like to have their thoughts and feelings known, they are entitled to it. They've been through hell and vilified by so many...it might be cathartic for them to have the chance to speak uninterrupted. I do not, however, understand why they'd have Dr. Phil conduct the interview. Dr. Phil doesn't lend to their credibility and I doubt he's doing it out of some humanitarian motivation...he is likely looking for ratings. I'd rather see someone of substance interview them and have it be more...factual with some emotional than sensational, which is what it will be if Dr. P does it.

If you're curious about the documentaries on the West Memphis Three that helped them navigate through eighteen years of false imprisonment, HBO is running the first two documentaries this week. Check your local listings for times, or you can see them On Demand today through the 30th. Wherever Damien, Jason and Jessie are right now, I hope they're getting rest, sunshine, massages, good food and finding sound counsel. I can't even imagine...

Just a Little Bit…

2011-08-19T12:09:00.000-07:00

In 1993, I was a little self-absorbed.

My parents were still involved in a bitter, heated divorce; I was working two or three jobs at a time; and I was struggling to complete college, having just been kicked out of the house because my Mom and I were really, really, really not getting along.

So, when three teenagers were convicted of killing three children in West Memphis, Arkansas, I can remember it happening, but I didn't follow it. I was too far into crisis mode to think of anyone but me.

But three years later when Paradise Lost: The Child Murders at Robin Hood Hills was released, I was in more of a position to pay attention. And I did pay attention. I didn't have a choice.

The day after I saw it, I felt that strange feeling you get after having a really bad dream…that strange, uneven feeling that follows you around all day. You can’t put your finger on it, but something isn’t right. You can’t stop thinking about it. You find yourself reflecting on little bits of it, even when you don’t want to.

I thought, “Am I being gullible? Is there any way on Earth that these teenagers could have done this?” And I realized that no…while I didn’t know all the details, I was certain in my gut that Damien Echols, Jessie Miskelly and Jason Baldwin were innocent. Certain of it. And I chose to go with it. They're innocent. The second documentary only laced things up more tightly for me.

Over the years, I’d read online and follow the case and in time, I began praying for the West Memphis Three’s release, and praying for justice in the form of the real guilty persons' capture and prosecution.

Today, Jason, Jessie and Damien are free. Thank You, G*d, thank You for listening. I cried, just a little bit. Not a big, sobbing, co-workers-can-hear-you cry, but a few good old-fashioned, quiet, big tears as I read and watched the ruling unfold today. I can’t imagine…

It occurs to me, reading and watching today, that they’ve not only been in prison half their lives, but I’ve been following their case for nearly half of mine. Where early footage shows their faces still holding baby fat and obvious youth, today’s footage shows three, extremely tired, thirty-something men who look like they’ve been to war.

In a way, they have.

But tonight, as they’re able to enjoy the hugs of family and friends, the love they’ve been starving to feel for years, the comforts of home like shower and soft bed and familiar clothes, food that isn’t served on a metal tray…silence. Tonight they can begin to explore the next portion of their lives, one that I’m certain will be full of purpose and meaning.

There is no silver lining, but when you look at those boys and the oppressive nature of the town and limited resources of where they grew up, chances are, they’d have gotten jobs locally and lived pretty normal lives working normal jobs, perhaps getting married or having kids. Instead they are each in positions where they can make a difference. I see Damien and Jason advocating forever, working to help others who have been falsely accused. Damien will pursue his art. Maybe he and Lorri can start a family of their own now. And Jason…he’ll be a good lawyer. He’ll really help the underdogs and he’ll be fantastic and passionate in his work. And Jessie? I just hope he can enjoy the little things. No matter what he does, he will work hard and be grateful every day. He will still need a little help and guidance, but he’ll be alright.

Everything will be alright, because I really do think that these boys will also do what they can to see that the real criminals are found and captured. I'm counting on the rest of my prayer coming true, too.

Gift

2011-08-12T05:30:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time, I was in the “gifted program.” I always thought that was a big bunch of crap because while I know I was a bright and creative kid, I don’t think I was anything exceptional. I do think that I had the advantage early on of a stay-at-home mom who’d been an educator and who taught me how to read very early on. I also had a big sister who was three years older and “played school” with me non-stop. So…I’d say more than gifted, I was just very prepared.

This became more evident to me as I got older. In junior high, the gifted kids were all freaking brainiacs. A pair of twins, who were Japanese, had a strict father who conducted classes all summer long. (They also weren’t allowed to do anything fun, like go to dances, which I thought sucked.) They’d leave on the last day of school each year, lugging loads of books too heavy for their lanky, pre-teen arms. There were a few others who stand out in my mind…they’d been in the enrichment classes with me in elementary school and we’d all known each other since kindergarten. But junior high was a blending of a few elementary schools, and the kids from the other elementary school were very competitive and extremely academic.

And I was a dunce when it came to advanced math. Addition, yes. Subtraction, okie-dokie. Multiplication and division, gotcha. But if you start putting numbers and letters together, I figure you’re just trying to mess with me. And if someone intentionally messes with me, one of two things seems to happen: I either adopt an air of indifference and completely dismiss the person or I become extremely and obviously pissed.

When you’re a child and in school, indifference is the better choice.

For example, when I read things or saw charts that were ridiculously difficult, I’d check out. I figured those materials were not for me. If they were for me, they wouldn’t be pretentious and unnecessarily complicated. For example, in college, I never got through a leisure read of Gravity’s Rainbow because at the time, it felt impossible to read. (I may try it again one day soon, but at the time, I thought, what the hell?)

So, when I saw all that algebraic stuff on the board, I’d check out. Sure, I’d have my pencil poised above the paper, I’d be looking at the teacher, I’d nod and seemingly follow along in the textbook. But in my mind, I was thinking about Duran Duran or wondering if my skin would ever clear up. I had no idea what the teachers were saying. Their words were foreign to me.

We had “gifted English” right before “gifted math.” Math was in the same room as English. And I was one of two “gifted” people who didn’t make it into gifted Math…me and the poor, truly gifted kid with severe behavioral and social disorders.

Every day, when the bell rang, the hoodlum and I had to get up and slink out of the room because we weren’t good at math.

I remember one of the students saying something snide to my mathematically deficient counterpart’s back about being a loser one day when we were leaving the room. I shot a look over my shoulder and someone said, “Oh! I didn’t mean you!” followed by giggles of embarrassment, but I knew the truth.

The thing is, I knew who I was then and I know who I am now. Even though I err on the side of self-depreciation, I know my strengths as well as my weaknesses.

So, when I was asked at work today to write on a project that is way out of my league, I gave it a try. I tried not to think about the hold advanced numbers have had on me or how math courses contributed to a very average GPA my whole academic career…reflecting points much lower than I think I’d otherwise have earned.

After three hours of truly trying to explain terms that I’ve never even heard of, after four trips into my supervisor’s office, after 45 minutes on www.investopedia.com, after my shoulder became stiff and I had a lump in my throat, I threw in the towel.

Someone on the other end of my email may have snickered and said, “Loser,” under their breath, but I don’t give a damn.

I am not a quitter, but I asked for someone else to draft the information and I volunteered to edit it. I can’t write it. It’s not what I do.

What I can do is edit it into a format that will allow other people, like myself, understand the advanced concepts by curling them into shapes that they’ll recognize.

But for today, I’m shaking it off. I know what I’m good at. I know what I want to invest my time in.

I’m giving myself an A for effort.

I Didn't Get A Part...

2011-08-09T09:45:00.000-07:00

...but maybe I did get my foot in the door.

So, I auditioned for the show I mentioned the other week. It was my first audition in more than 20 years and I wasn't expecting a lead, but I hoped to get the experience of reading for a lead.

But that isn't how things work when you've got an experienced director with a strong personality and a sense for who he already wants to cast in the main roles. However, it's his show, and these auditions weren't about me getting a practice run at future audition attempts. So, I didn't even really have a chance to try, but that is OK.

Here is how it broke down:
Auditions were Sunday and Monday, and I opted for Monday because we were so busy this weekend. If I'd been smart and thought about it, I'd have gone on Sunday because it was clear to me that he had the two female leads picked out from that night's auditions. How do I know? Because there were about six ladies - including me - who showed up Monday night and none of us got to read for the lead roles.

So, I got there a little early, and had a nice chat with one of the producers, who turned out to be a board member for the theater association and I mentioned that even if I didn't get a role, I'd like to be on set crew or help out backstage. And I meant that...I'm really interested in getting involved.

I was the first to read, and it was for a small but significant role. The character is odd and kind of sets the tone for the production. And, the character requires an accent, according to the director's vision of her, which I know that I could not do unless I had practice time. There was no practice time nor was there a practice place. I didn't even attempt to do one when I read...I just read the character strong and stern as I heard her in my head in the way I envisioned her - just without the accent.

But the next woman who read for it was about 15 years older than I am and robust and loud and nailed the accent. I thought, "Check!"

Then the other side the director handed me I didn't get to read for because yet another robust woman with a loud voice and accent was called up first and killed it. I mean she IS that character, probably in her personal life, or else she is a damn fine actress who should be on Broadway. I mean, for a "cold read," she sounded more like she'd either played the part before or memorized the script and rehearsed it...and if she did, kudos to her! She was off the page and everything.

And with that, we were dismissed.

And then I got my, "thanks...so sorry, but..." email from the director a few hours later. And the aside that maybe some backstage opportunities would be available if I was interested. I replied and said I definitely was.

So, no part for me, BUT I am still happy I did it. Guts! I will try out again and I hope I get to contribute to this show somehow. This just wasn't my play. I'm not a character actor. I can act. I'm not like Shakespeare or Oscar quality or anything, but I can act. And there is a production out there for me. I just have to find it.

And meanwhile, maybe they can let me give them a hand on this show... I'll let you know!

Big Post

2011-08-08T21:26:00.000-07:00

So much has happened in the last week…time to get caught up!

Especially…my 40th birthday extravaganza with Steinvic and Paul Mc Cartney! Who cares if there were 40,000 people there along with us?! But first, Steinvic and I headed downtown midday and checked into our hotel room.

He'd reserved a junior suite and it was so fantastic. Flowers. Champagne. Chocolate covered strawberries. Lovely and luxurious!

We went to Rock Bottom for a very late lunch/very early dinner. Warning: do not get the nachos unless you bring lots of friends with you! Good golly… we each ate only about a corner’s worth because we didn’t know how big they’d be and we’d ordered actual lunch, too. But it was a nice meal and once we were through there, we headed to Macy’s to spend our gift certificates we'd received for our birthdays.

After some shopping, we headed back to our room for drinks, relaxing and then getting gussied up to go to the show!

And WOW…how amazing were our seats?! We were in row P on the floor level of the Great American Ballpark. This was the first concert the Cincinnati Reds has hosted and it was a huge success. The place was packed and everything still ran smoothly.

You can read more about the concert and see a slide show here. Words can’t describe how unreal getting to go to that concert was…enjoyed every minute, knew every song, and were surrounded by happy music lovers of all ages. We had a blast, and Paul Mc Cartney is fabulous and his voice is just as clear and strong as ever (and please, quit being surprised by this, people! He is ONLY 70!) I loved the David Bowie concert that was our first date in Ohio, and I loved the Arizona U2 concert when we got engaged...both were awesome and unforgettable sentimental and wonderful. But I will definitely remember and hold dear this concert for my entire life, especially all the time, effort, love and thoughtfulness that Steinvic put into making it happen.

The next day, we headed out to pick up Houdini (this is what I’m calling our Pup here now, since we discovered that he is able to escape his gate without disturbing it...we've since figured it out, but it's still fun to call him that...) on Friday, which I had off, thanks to Steinvic! Houdini stayed at my folks’ for the night, so when we left there, they followed us home with an awesome butcher block table that they didn’t need.

We got that all set up and then worked on house things Saturday and Sunday, and bought chairs to match the table at IKEA

Have you ever been to IKEA? It’s neat, but it’s not a quick get in/buy stuff/leave experience, even if you want it to be. But, we got great chairs for $40 each (thanks to my folks...birthday gift from them!) and trust me when I say, we’ve been chair-shopping for a while and even the simplest chairs ain’t cheap, so we were thrilled to get these so reasonably. So, we’re set. We have a table and chairs that are lovely and our house is ready for our guests who will arrive this evening.

Audition tonight...will post about that tomorrow!

Forty is Nicer Than I Thought it Might Be…

2011-08-02T13:44:00.000-07:00

Steinvic has done a phenomenal job of making my birthday special, even though he has to be away this evening for work. I woke to the sounds of The Beatles singing “Birthday,” because he’d bought (and set up while I slept) an awesome iPod alarm clock! He had the songs all set up for this morning and it was a sweet and special way to start this milestone birthday.

I went into the bathroom and there was my Paul McCartney Sgt. Pepper doll on the counter, holding an envelope with Paul McCartney on the outside…and inside two tickets to his upcoming concert! And an explanation that we’d be staying at a favorite hotel downtown the night of the show. And a gift certificate to Macy’s and an iTunes card to load up some more McCartney onto my iPod and a hilarious Hoops and YoYo (love those guys!) card…I was completely floored. I was, in fact, so excited (and perhaps a little hung over from last night’s drinks at our local) that maybe Steinvic isn’t aware of the full extent of my joy, even though I thanked and thanked him…(Thank you, baby!)

And to top it off, Steinvic sent two dozen of the most beautiful roses…pink with red tips. I’ve never seen anything like them before and they smell heavenly…

I am spoiled.

It’s been a birthday full of music so far.

Every four years, birthdays mean a stop at the Bureau of Motor Vehicles, and today is one of those birthdays for me. The closest BMV to work is in a very urban, slightly rough area. I pulled into the lot and thought better of leaving my iPod in the car, even though I knew I’d only be a moment, because I didn’t want it to get stolen. (I rarely do this anywhere anyway, unless I can hide it under something.)

I walked in and there wasn’t much of a wait. A couple thuggish-looking guys were sitting in the window chairs. A couple was being waited on at the counter, and a few other folks were ahead of me, already being helped, too. It was very quiet and surprisingly not too crowded.

And suddenly, loud and clear, from the depths of my purse…”Heeeeeeeeeeeeeey, yeeeeah…I wanna shoop, baby, shoop…Ooo! How you doin’, baby?” Yep, Salt n’ Pepper’s “Shoop” sang out from my iPod, which I must have jostled as I’d removed my wallet.

So here is this very square-looking, business-dressed, mortified white (quickly turning red) chick in the BMV, scrambling to shut off the Shoop song that had everyone in the place looking at me. And of course, I couldn’t get it to shut off. I was pressing the top button and the home button and the song just kept playing. “Oh my goodness…Shoop ba doop ba doop ba doop…”

Finally, silence. A white-haired clerk stared at me from behind the desk as her printer was generating something, and shook her head slightly in disapproval.

And then, the male portion of the couple at the desk begins singing the song. Over and over.

I think they were probably happy to see me leave. Everyone probably thought that was my ring tone on my phone.

Of course, when I pull out of the BMV lot, new license in hand, I plug in my iPod and that song is still on…before I can hit next (I had it on shuffle), I notice that walking right by my car is the guy who was singing, and he starts singing it again.

So embarrassed…he probably thinks that is my favorite song. (I swear, it’s not!) One of the reasons I do like it, though, is this bit by Ellen…every time I hear the actual song, I think of this skit and it makes me smile. Hope it makes you smile today, too! Lots of things to smile about...

I Love Zappos

2011-07-27T18:56:00.000-07:00

I love Zappos. And let me tell you why.

I ordered two pairs of spiffy Clarks through Zappos for Steinvic as part of his birthday present. He really needed good shoes.

One of the pair were sandals…the slip-on kind. He doesn’t own any and it’s been so hella hot here, I thought this would be a great option for him so his feet would be nice and cool when we’re chillin’.

Sadly, the suckers slipped right off as he walked. He had to kind of flex his foot as he wore them to keep them on and we all know (those of us who wear slip-on shoes, that is) that foot flexin’ is the best way to get to achy feet and calves.

So I put in for a return and found him a pair that had an ankle strappy thing so they’d stay on and be more comfortable.

When I did the return, there was a comments section, like…were you displeased with us/could we have done something better to help and I said something like, “No way! You guys rock and the sandals were beautiful. They just didn’t stay on my husband’s feet and I’m now ordering a different style. Thanks for the free return shipping!”

That night, I checked online to see the order status for the new sandals and I had an email from Zappos. It basically said, “We’ve got a surprise for you…we’ve upgraded you to overnight shipping! For free. You’ll get your shoes tomorrow! Hope this makes your day.”

Indeed! So, I replied to the email to say thank you for that…and then I thought…maybe this is one of those "do not reply notifications." But I nosed around and it didn’t seem to be…didn’t say that anywhere.

So, I said something like, “Thank you so much for upgrading our shipping. We already enjoy shopping with Zappos! I’ve served customers all my life and seeing great attention like this is really impressive. Thank you again!”

I didn’t expect a reply at all. I just wanted them to know that we really appreciated their thoughtfulness.

But five minutes later, I had the nicest reply that said our account had been upgraded to VIP status and that from now on, we’d get free next business day delivery and priority returns.

Wow. How do you like that?

Zappos, you’re doing a fine job and I hope you keep it up! We will shop your site first for clothes, shoes, beauty and housewares going forward!

I'm Gonna Try...

2011-07-26T06:45:00.000-07:00

So, you know I’ve been having this kind of crisis where I know I need to get busy and be creative and do some of the things I enjoy doing before I fizzle out.

I dream about it, I think about it, I talk about it.

And now I am going to attempt to try to do something about it.

Long ago, in a land far away, I used to be an Honor Thespian. I was in talent shows and plays all the time in grade school and in high school, I was in every musical and student choreographed a few of them. I was in show choir. I was in flag corps (you may call it color guard in your neck of the woods) and was even captain my senior year. I still worked a part time job, but in my own time, I sang. I danced. I was on stage. I was busy and fulfilled and LOVED IT ALL.

And then I had to grow up super-fast, like you do when you graduate from high school and your dad decides to split a few days after you graduate, and your family has no money, and everyone is nuts and there is no fund for college but your mother (trying desperately to hold it together) insists that you go. So you work a couple (or three) jobs and you get busy. You dig in and you get shit done.

So…yeah…I got super-serious, super-fast. I also got sort of angry, but didn’t have time to deal with it. For the most part, it’s been all business ever since. (Until I met Steinvic, of course, and my life improved dramatically and I remembered a lot about having fun.)

When I was still in college and went back to my high school to student teach, my mentor said, “What happened to you? You were this friendly but shy girl who would turn five shades of red when I called on you in class. Now you’re so…grown up…” I understood that it wasn’t a criticism, but he was right. I had changed. I had changed in three years what it took a lot of people I know ten years to accomplish. And I did it the hard way.

Real life will do that to you.

But I am beginning to understand that I don’t have to let it.

I found a play that will be put on by a community theater and I’m interested in trying out. I know they have a stable of excellent regular players and that the chance I’ll get in is small…especially because the play doesn’t have a lot of roles, but I’m still going to try.

If I don’t make it, maybe they’ll let me work on the set crew or something.

But I’ll be around the kind of people I so enjoyed long ago.

Plus, Steinvic is probably going to be gone more than ever for a while, as someone in his Columbus office will be out, and they’ll need his presence more frequently. It totally sucks, but we’re still lucky that he is able to mostly work from here, so we can’t complain about it.

But, if he won’t be around anyway, I won’t feel like I’m taking time away from us, you know?

Auditions are in a little less than two weeks. I am hopeful that this is the start of something good!

Happy Birthday, Baby...

2011-07-25T06:05:00.000-07:00

Today is Steinvic's birthday.

And while I've been asked to keep the celebration low key this year, I couldn't pass up the opportunity to publicly wish him a wonderful birthday.

Why do I like to make such a big deal of it? Because it is my favorite day to celebrate...

What a magnificent world I live in because he was born!

We began celebrating a little yesterday. Pup bought him a lovely pair of RayBan Wayfarers and couldn't wait until today to give them to him. I made a giant, Dutch apple pie from scratch and it turned out really well (and I can't bake or follow a recipe to save my life, so big accomplishment!) so if you're interested in the recipe, here it is.

And we will finish celebrating after work today. I'm making a special meal, we'll go out for cocktails, and open presents from me later on.

Raise your glass and toast to Steinvic with me! It's a truly beautiful day...

RIP, Amy...

2011-07-23T17:30:00.000-07:00

While I don't know the words to every song she ever sang, I sure have enjoyed listening to Amy Winehouse.

I enjoyed her distinctive look and voice so much, I dressed like her for Halloween last year. (Everyone thought Steinvic and I were Elvis and Pricilla...an older crowd who wouldn't have considered Amy Winehouse as a first option, but once I said her name and "Rehab," they all knew and noted the differences...primarily the excessive temporary tattoos I'd applied.)

I've stayed tuned hoping she'd stay clean and sober. I am sad and disappointed that she couldn't do it, and that her chances to try have run out.

Rest in peace, Amy. Know that you're already missed. I'll always wonder who you would have become had you made it past this hurdle, but it will always be easy to appreciate exactly what you were. May your music play on and on...

Eyeball, Part Two

2011-07-23T10:23:00.000-07:00

Do you enjoy coincidences?

Friday night, I held an acquaintence's prosthetic eyeball. Why? Because he handed it to me. Long story, (and no, I hadn't asked to have a closer look or anything. Surprisingly, it wasn't freaky or gross at all. It was actually pretty interesting. Definitely a piece of art.

Also coincidental is that I'd read this story earlier in the day.

But I just thought it was a hoot that here I'd posted about an eyeball - a completely different kind - earlier in the day and then this...

Eyeball

2011-07-22T06:24:00.000-07:00

I laugh a lot. However, it's not easy to make me laugh at 5:45 a.m. But that is how my day started...

Our Pup has been on a chewing frenzy since he is losing his milk teeth to make room for grown-up chompers. This means he has terrorized all of his "fluffy" (non-chewy, stuffed animal-type) toys, swiftly executing them by ripping a hole (usually near the eye) and removing their stuffing.

We actually have a small pile of lobotomized animals, awaiting repair.

Which means that he is down to one fluffy toy (a stuffed dachshund, interestingly enough) that he hasn't destroyed. And these are somehow more fulfilling to destroy than gnawing the crap out of his rubber toys or raw hides. Pup has a lot of toys. A lot. Like, ridiculous...but he is a busy little guy and we like to keep him entertained. We don't leave him with anything while he is alone that he could ingest, though...fluffy toys are for supervised times only.

Because he is apparently desperate for more fluffy friends, he's turned to the few little creatures (mine!) dwelling in the rocking chair in our guest room. It's a constant battle to take them away, say, "No," and then wash and dry them to keep them slobber free.

I went to bed early last night (allergies!!!) and he came to the bed, whining to get up (as if! No dogs on our bed...I don't care how adorable and snuggly he is!) and I could hear him running around as I drifted off. (He weighs about 10 lbs, but sounds like he weighs 40.)

This morning, on the counter in the bathroom, a single blue eye. Apparently, Steinvic rescued it from the dog when he came up to bed.

I wasn't expecting it and it made me laugh. Then I went to see if I could figure out where it came from and found my moon, sans eye. I could glue it back on. Or, I could remove the other eye and let Pup destroy it, because it makes him so happy...

Family Values

2011-07-21T11:52:00.000-07:00

I think that one day, we'll reflect on the way our government and society has discriminated against people who are gay the same way we reflect on other travesties to our human rights, like when women and blacks were not permitted to vote.

I watched The Kids are Alright the other night, so I guess the topic is on my mind. And then I read shallow-minded comments at the end of articles that talk about how same-sex marriage threatens the core of family values.

I don't see how that is possible. I don't even know what it means, exactly.

Because the way I see it... if you're gay and have a steady partner, and possibly children, chances are you have to work a lot harder for that relationship than straight folks. Yep, I said it...people who are gay not only deserve to be married, but possibly even more than us heterosexual folks (who often take that right for granted and/or abuse it) do.

I can only imagine that it's hard enough to survive childhood and the teen years as a homosexual. Chaz has a nice campaign going, and I think it's a really good idea, to let kids know that as bad as life might seem right now, it does get better. But still...

Imagine, once you're grown, knowing that if - when you walk into a room - you "sound too gay" or "look too gay" that some of the idiots in the room are not paying attention to why you're there or what you're saying, but instead begin thinking about your sexuality. (Doesn't THAT seem more perverse than the idea of people of the same gender having "relations"?)

Imagine that on the job, if you're a single female with short hair who likes sports and you haven't got a boyfriend that immediately, people assume you're gay. It may affect your social life or your relationships...what if you don't feel like you can be honest with your co-workers?

The stress and strain of constantly having to juggle how comfortable others are going to be with who you are undoubtedly makes life in general more difficult for people who are gay. I have no idea how difficult it would be to try to maintain a romantic relationship under the additional strain.

Family values to me? Be honest with each other. Don't abuse each other. Trust each other. If the road gets rocky, you don't leave; families work it out. Be innovative - actively seek ways to stay in love. Be selfless - think about something that your spouse/partner would be delighted by and then do it. Give - make a daily effort to appreciate each other. And teach your kids all these things by talking, being affectionate and communicating often so they can see how it all works. Those are family values to me... How can allowing people to get married threaten anything I value? How does everyone having equal rights to marry damage love?

I see this world as a crazy place. It's a good place, and a beautiful place, but it's crazy and it's hard to get by sometimes. Who am I to deprive someone else of love, of the same joy I felt when I married Steinvic, of the same rights I have? If you can find love in this world, celebrate it every day. Here's to the rest of our great States getting their heads out of their asses.

Dreams

2011-07-13T05:54:00.001-07:00

Steinvic was out of town for work overnight, and I woke up at 4:18 a.m. (I looked at the clock) due to tiny woofs and whimpers from our pup. We crate him at night in a blanket-lined cage in our room…something we started the first night he was home with us. I listened to him, working through whatever monster-filled encounter he was having in his sleep, heard him let out a big sigh, and then he was back off to dreamland…hopefully one that featured large flower-filled fields and sunshine.

I was, however, wide awake.

I’d been dreaming, too. In my dream, a girl I’d gone to junior high with was now an adult, critiquing my art book. I remember feeling confident showing her my book, but as she paged through, none of my drawings were complete. They weren’t how I’d remembered them, either...much more amateurish than what was in my mind's eye. I found myself embarrassed at first and making excuses, but then admitted that they weren’t as good as some other things I’d done, and maybe I needed to just buy another book and start over.

The Girl…I remember her well. She was very popular. She seemed older than everyone else…a ring leader of sorts for her clique. Instead of the trendy, 80s clothes the rest of my class wore, she had her own conservative, expensive style. Perfectly manicured, long, oval nails. Impeccable handwriting. Pretty blonde hair – there was never a bad hair day in her world. She wore a tiny amount of tastefully applied makeup. When she laughed, she was reserved. She was not silly and didn’t act out in class. I remember that she had a few steady boyfriends, but no one gossiped about her. She made great grades. I’d heard (not in a bad way) that she sometimes drank at parties and smoked a little weed with the other kids, but never that she’d made a fool of herself. In retrospect, she was a grown-up in an adolescent body.

I, on the other hand, was a mega-dork.

A five-minute sketch of me, in all my dorky glory, circa 1983.

I was skinny, had permed, stringy hair, wore glasses and bulky train-track-style braces. I had no boobs to speak of (or not speak of) and absolutely no style. I hid my lack of shape and style in loose, brandless jeans, polo or denim shirts and an occasional shaker sweater from The Limited that my aunt sent me. (My family really couldn’t afford The Limited at that time.) I giggled and freely acted dorkily, with my small, tight clan of dorky friends, all of us wishing we were less dorky, but having no idea how to achieve that. I for sure wasn’t going to parties, drinking casually or smoking weed…most of my Friday nights were spent drawing at my Dad’s desk, peripherally watching The Love Boat, Fantasy Island and Dr. Who.

I can remember a couple of instances where I dared to try to talk to The Girl…once chiming into a conversation before chorus where there were just a few of us in the classroom. I think I said I thought she’d surely win a seat on the student counsel if she ran. She shot me down saying something like, “I don’t remember asking your opinion.” I slinked into my second-row alto seat, red-faced, slumping back into my dorkiness and pretending to read something important so that no one could see the humiliated tears trying to form behind my thick glasses. (I was a foolishly sensitive kid.)

In the eighth grade, at the end of the year, everyone was passing their yearbooks around, getting cleverly crafted signatures. “Stay sweet!” “LYLAS!” (Love ya like a sis!) “KIT (keep in touch) I mean it!” While mine was being passed back to me, The Girl intercepted it. I saw her writing and wondered what she could possibly have to say to me. It said something like, “I’m sorry I’ve been such a bitch to you.” No, really…that is what she wrote. I was a little concerned that the word “bitch” was forever in my yearbook and that my parents would see it and I’d somehow be in trouble, but more, I felt somehow…taller.

In ninth grade, I had contact lenses and had discovered mousse and learned to feather my hair. Money was a little less tight so my wardrobe had improved. My braces were off and I was permitted to wear a little more makeup to school. I still didn’t have boobs, but realized that a lot of thinner girls in my class were in the same predicament, so I pretended not to care. Mom gave me Chanel No. 5 that year and I was starting to understand the allure of girly things, the art of passing notes instead of trying to talk in class and began to develop a thickening attitude – healthily calloused – of not really giving a damn about what others thought of me.

And, most importantly, a new girl in school ended up in my homeroom. She was very, very cool and worldly. And pretty. For some reason, she took to me right away. The popular girls wanted to be friends with her. And so, they started to be kind to me. Including The Girl. Like…I got to sit with Those Girls sometimes. I wasn’t part of their clique per se, but I could sort of pass.

The Girl went to a different school for tenth through twelfth grade. A school I’d always dreamed of going to. I maybe saw her once at a football game or something, far away and out of the corner of my eye, as she talked with former classmates, but I've never talked to her again.

Back to today. Out of curiosity, I googled (yes I used Google as a verb, and I did nosily look someone up online) her name and found that she seems to have a wonderful life. She looks grown up, more weathered and outwardly more approachable and authentic. I’m totally not surprised at all...she's always been so talented. It made me happy, if not a tiny bit jealous, to find her excelling in a profession I’ve dreamt of and living in a part of the country that Steinvic and I adore. She actually has a blog and I thought, comment? No, too creepy. Maybe not. What would I say? “Hello from Cincinnati. I had a weird dream about you that made me curious about what you’re doing and I found your blog. Happy that you’re doing so well and wistfully envious that you’re in a career that should be mine, living in a place that my husband and I would love to live. Yes, I’m still jealous of you. But in a nice way. I swear. I’m not crazy.”

No. If I were her reading that, I wouldn’t believe the not crazy part. Instead, I think I need to get those art books out and really start working. I have a hundred story ideas in my mind, a thousand projects, a million little lightening bugs flickering around in my brain, but I haven’t done a damn thing about any of them. She has. She knew what she was going to be when we were kids, and she’s done it and done it well.

Steinvic and I have a good life here...lots of blessings. Who knows...maybe some would envy our lives a litte. But I belive that what I bring to our existence could be richer, if I apply myself.

I keep saying it, but now I have to do it. I have to get busy on me. Thanks for the kick in the pants…

The Greyhound Experience

2011-07-12T12:24:00.001-07:00

I promised I’d provide a summary of our experience on the Greyhound Express from our recent trip to Chicago, so here it goes.

First off, we decided to take the Greyhound Express because we’d tried the Mega Bus last year and sort of wanted to compare. I believe Steinvic and I want bus-riding to be a real option for these quick trips where we don’t want to tax our cars or spend a fortune on gas and parking fees. We want it to be a good experience. Truly.

We gave Mega Bus a chance: Fail.

We gave Greyhound Express a chance: Fail.

It can be summarized by this image.

Yes, this is one of the few instructional signs that appear in the Greyhound hub. (You are really on your own as far as figuring out where to go and what to do.) It is supposed to be a person getting a ticket at the ticket counter. After our experience, we believe should be a bartender administering liquid comfort.

It wasn’t so much that we were hassled or that our bus wasn’t on time. It was more the:
- disorganization (which makes this particularly anxious traveler even more anxious)
- constant, unwavering scent of urine
- dirty (and I’m not talking because I’m OCD-ish…they were nasty) hubs and buses
- people, both patrons and employees, who generally seemed to be cranky
- bathrooms that were not useable
- lines in which you waited and every single person ahead of you had a "serious issue" and needed to explain everything that had happened to them since birth. (we were there in plenty of time, but still...annoying drain of patience...)

Two good features – no, three – about the Greyhound include the inexpensive fare, the fact that the Wi-Fi worked pretty consistently all the way to Chicago and back, and we got there and back with no real problems. (There were quite a few hostile people for which this did not seem to be the case.)

So, I don’t think we’ll be taking the bus again. It feels too…unreliable. Like something could go horribly wrong…either someone freaking the heck out or a bus not showing up. Just too out of control.

And too smelly.

If we HAD to do it again, I think we might, but it would not be our top choice of transportation…

Lights Out

2011-07-12T09:44:00.001-07:00

At the end of last year, sometime just before our wedding, the light fixture in our bedroom closet went out.

Of course, I climbed up on top of a chair, thinking it was just another burnt out bulb, but that wasn’t it. It was the fixture. As I bravely unscrewed the (unbeknownst to me) ten-inch-long screw holding the thing to the ceiling, thinking that I’d just pop over to Home Depot for a new one, I began to realize that it wasn’t going to be that easy. The wires didn’t look like the normal color-coded wires I’ve seen before. I thought…this may be more than I want to attempt when Steinvic is away. Wrist hurting from unscrewing, I screwed the fixture back on.

We’d have called an electrician…after all, we have three outlets out and would like to replace the fixture in our little dining nook. But that costs money and every month there is something (not just obligations, but other things we’ve chosen to do, like go to Chicago…) and so we haven’t gotten around to it.

Then last week, the kitchen light fixture conked out, literally blowing two of the bulbs as it went. We’re not brave enough to do anything electrical…I’ll DIY just about any house project, but not electrics.

Our condo is a bit outdated. It could use a little new everything. We keep up on laundry and dishes and sweeping and mopping and dusting. We clean the carpets, paint the walls and try to keep up on purging and reorganizing, but it’s a challenge.

Part of it is that I’d emergency moved from my old house to my parents, and put everything in storage without really rummaging through all of it. When I moved to the condo, I schlepped it from storage to this condo and have since tried to make heads or tails of it as I could between our long-distance commutes and working all the time. And when Steinvic moved here last year, he purged, best he could, but again…speed packing after work hours wasn’t easy.

AND, we have no storage to speak of.

So…we have to stay as organized as possible. I’ve been trying to work (in the dark) in the bedroom closet so that hopefully next month, we can afford the $500 - $1000 it will cost to repair it and all the other electrical stuff that keeps going wrong in our place.

Saturday and Sunday, I took about an hour each day to go through drawers, purging, and to fix the broken shoe rack in the dark closet. I reinforced the rungs with plastic tape. I know…kind of ghetto, but you do what you can and it seemed to work just fine.

Last night before bed, I went in the closet and saw this:

At first I thought the sprit of the disembodied squeaky foot toy my StepDad brought our pup on Sunday had taken over our closet, but then realized that it was just my stupid luck. I am just so disgusted. (and so are those bunny slippers! Just look at their little faces.) Seriously! So, tonight, I’m stopping looking for some organizational tools so that hopefully the closet won’t look like a disaster area (far worse than the picture portrays).

It will still be dark, but not as scary.

Of Course She Did...

2011-07-11T06:39:00.001-07:00

As I did my usual crawl across the headlines this morning, I saw that Casey Anthony refused a visitation with her mother, Cindy, on Friday morning.

Of course she did.

Are you kidding me? Can you imagine how afraid Casey is to face her mother? How uncomfortable that would be?

It could go one of two ways, or a mixture of the two. Cindy could go in with all guns blazing, "You know you did something to cause harm to Caylee/you've destroyed our family/who do you think you are/how dare you accuse George and Lee of the unspeakable," etc. and let Casey really have it, one last time, because I will be surprised if there is any more contact once Casey is released.

Or, Cindy could really mess with her and be compassionate. "We love you any way. We don't love what you did, we don't love the lying, but we're family and can work it out..." What would that do to Casey!? A fin of guilt might actually break through her soul's murky, liquid surface.

She can't afford to face either an angry Cindy or a loving Cindy. She is too afraid.

Casey has single handedly ticked off a good portion of the country. I've known bad-check-passers, liars, druggies, thieves and people who are poor at the art of parenting. I've worked with hundreds of people over the years and have had lots of friends from all different kinds of backgrounds. I even had a good friend - actually, one of my close friends from high school - who innocently got caught up in something shady but then lied to a police detective about it (we had a falling out about that, actually, and it ended our friendship). She was not a bad person...just young and dumb and scared - and it wasn't life or death or anything. Forgivable. Stuff happens. Life happens. People make bad choices and I think most folks are rational and can see the good through the bad and give folks a second chance...maybe even more.

But NO ONE can forgive someone who doesn't report his or her child dead or missing for a month. No one can forgive someone who creates layer after layer of unbelievable story to cover up the facts. No one can forgive someone who parties for days straight instead of telling the truth and beginning the grieving process.

That is what everyone is angry about...the intentional quality of all of this. And Casey's general lack of regard, punctuated by smiles and buoyancy in the courtroom.

No matter how your child died, how could you ever smile again? Or wink? Or plead innocence? Or party? You'd move on as best you could, but not the evening after the child's death, not the month after, and you surely wouldn't be so stoic or joyful in the courtroom...would you?

Chicago

2011-07-08T05:00:00.000-07:00

Steinvic and I had a great time this week in Chicago. We left Sunday afternoon and returned Wednesday night. While my feet are still tender from all the walking we did while we were in the Windy City, and I still haven't caught up on sleep, it was all worth it and we had a fantastic time.

I'll give you the highlights here, and later, I'll post about how we got there.

We stayed at The Seneca. I'd call this hotel a well-kept secret. It's an older hotel, but is conveniently located next to everything, and is very tidy and nicely maintained. The staff is friendly and our room was VERY affordable, especially considering we were there on a holiday weekend and that the Taste of Chicago was also going on. Our suite was huge - king sized bed, giant closets (with a safe...very handy), a living room, dining area and full kitchen. The television sets were a little outdated, but they had LOTS of channels to choose from, including 3 HBO stations (and who goes to Chicago to watch television anyway?!) We met a nice fellow on the sun roof who told us about how he and his wife rented an apartment there three days a week, several months out of the year, and I could see them being pretty comfortable if their apartment was like our suite...everything you needed was right there. We also ate in the cafe there and it was good: small, casual, good variety on their home-cookin' style menu for such a small restaurant (it's also where we heard the unfortunate verdict in the Casey Anthony trial). There are also more upscale restaurants in the hotel, but we didn't go that route.

We found Dublin's Bar and Grill on our first night and I am not sure if we were starving or if they didn't have the best bites around. We each had a bowl of Manhattan clam chowder and shared an appetizer - lobster ravioli - and we were very pleased. (I can't seem to get through to their website, but it's on State Street if you wanna go!)

We spent lots of time at Navy Pier...we always do! A favorite spot to have drinks or grab a bite is Harry Caray's. We walk and walk, to the pier from wherever we're staying, along the pier to look at the water and watch the boats come in and go out. We actually took a water taxi from the pier to Soldier Field, where the U2 concert was held, and that is the way to travel for sure!

The concert was AWESOME and they played and played and played. I'm not sure if they were making up for the delayed show (originally planned for last summer, but Bono broke his back in Germany and many tour dates were postponed) or what, but that concert seemed a good bit longer than the other two we've seen on this 360 tour. Bono wore his leather jacket the entire time, and I asked Steinvic if he thought that Bono had air conditioning piped into his jacket because it was freaking hot out, and I can only imagine that the stage lights made it even hotter for the band. Anyway, it was kind of cool for us because this tour was the same tour when we got engaged back in 2009...so it was sweet and sentimental to hear Beautiful Day and remember how Steinvic proposed.

Leaving the concert was something else altogether...the opposite of sweet! Imagine some 60,000 buzzed and/or tired people all leaving the concert at the same time on foot, lumbering through the awkward paths that security had set up for them. It's like...11:30 at night, dark, and we're faaaaar away from our hotel. We probably walked a couple of miles before wising up and crossing the street, hailing a cab originally headed in the opposite direction. Our cabby was kind, but wanted to talk politics and I wasn't feeling it at that point in the evening! But we politely chatted and prayed our hotel would appear soon...it did and we fell into bed after 12:30. Big day!

Everyone always wants to eat at Gino's or Giordano's (or both) for deep dish pizza when they visit Chicago. Nothing wrong with that...you should try it if you haven't! But you will wait and wait to be seated. Like not 45 minutes...we're talking hours at peak times. Some feel it is worth the wait. Since we've eaten at both places several times on previous visits, we weren't feeling the wait. We were just kind of wandering around and came upon Pizano's. Steinvic wondered if they had deep dish pizza and I whipped out my phone and checked online and indeed, they did. We decided to check it out...and if you're ever in Chicago, you should, too. DELICIOUS pizza. Our server boasted that his 92-year-old mother walked a mile-and-a-half, three days a week, to come make their dough. Could be a legend, could be fact, but no matter what, the food and service were awesome. And no wait! Looked like more local folks than tourists to me. We will be back!

A favorite bar we enjoy while we're in town is Pippin's. They don't have a website, but it's on Rush Street. We like it because it's not pretentious, they have lots of good beer and booze there, and during happy hour, it's darned affordable (Absolute Citron and soda for me and a beer for Steinvic cost $7, which is nearly unheard of here in Ohio, much less in touristy Chicago.) The folks who work there are pretty nice, too, and we've always ended up meeting some nice couple or chatting with other like-minded visitors who want something low key.

If you need to get out of the heat (or cold, depending on when you visit), there is a lovely AMC theater right down the street from Navy Pier. We saw Bridesmaids and chuckled a lot. See it if you haven't! You can also bowl at the Lucky Strike nestled into the same complex, but we didn't because we felt it was kind of pricey (came out to $40 for us to bowl and rent shoes, which seemed a little high, and we weren't that interested in bowling anyway...) but if you're into bowling, you might want to check it out.

In a nutshell, that was our whirlwind tour of Chicago. It was wonderful! (I will post a few photos later...) We returned to a very wriggly, happy puppy and as great of a time as we had, it feels great to be home.

Guilty

2011-07-05T21:49:00.000-07:00

It doesn't matter to me what verdict the jury for Casey Anthony returned.

She is guilty.

In this country, the prosecution has to work really hard to prove somebody's guilt. I thought they did a solid job of providing evidence and connecting the dots. Their theory made sense: Casey wanted to party, she had a child that prevented the lifestyle she wanted from coming easily, and the lies she told and the means she used to make that lifestyle possible (leaving her with just about anyone and/or drugging her) would shortly be coming to an end because Caylee was beginning to talk.

The jury didn't agree.

We will never know what Casey did all day while she was away from home, at a job that never existed. We won't know why Cindy and George didn't ask more questions or expect more from Casey. We won't learn about Caylee's last moments of life. We won't get to find out just what made Casey snap that day, or if she really believes the lies she tells.

But what I do know is, Casey is now friendless and without a family. I think she will have a very tough time enjoying her freedom because who could truly love or trust her? She screwed over her friends, threw her family under the bus and damaged their character, and even hurt a complete stranger (go get her, Zenaida...) by accusing her of the unthinkable.

And, in my opinion, took the life of a beautiful, innocent child.

As her defense team gathered around her, hugging her and crying, I wondered if these people would now be her friends and family. Would you let her babysit your kids?

I admit, when the verdict was read, I got teary. I love the truth. And I can't stand it when the truth doesn't prevail. And I love justice. I really hoped for justice for Caylee. Not the death penalty, but jail time. Instead, someone got away with murder, and Thursday, that person will likely become a free -and wealthy- person who enjoys all the same liberties as you and I do. Fair?

My Apologies, Countess...

2011-06-30T08:47:00.001-07:00

I always admit when I'm wrong, and I usually apologize for my mistakes. So, Countess de Lusseps of The Real Housewives of New York City, I'm sorry.

I am sorry because when you decided a year ago that you could sing and released your first single, "Money Can't Buy You Class," I said that it was the worst professionally released song I'd heard in a long time.

I was wrong. The worst professionally released song I've heard in a long time is your NEW song, "Chic C'est La Vie."

The RHW shows used to be my guilty, mindless pleasure, but I don't even watch them any longer because I feel embarrassed as I'm watching. I also find myself thinking "Who cares?!" as the ladies think of ways to one-up each other or insult each other. That doesn't mean that I won't read recaps on Pretty on the Outside (awesome blogger) or on Bravotv.com because I am admitedly, at times, a nosey bitch when it comes to people who put there lives out there on reality shows. (But not the Kardashians. I have zero interest in any of them and don't understand the appeal. I do like when SNL spoofs them, though.)

So, I was nosily rooting around on Bravo (can usually glean everything I want to know just by reading the titles of the blogs) and found that The Countess - even though she got super-panned for the first song - took it upon herself to release another song that is plenty worse.

If you don't believe me, listen here.

She apparently filmed a video, too, and it can't possibly suck more than her first one, but I don't think it's out yet.

I'm not a fabulous singer, and even if I had millions of dollars, I would still know that my singing should be limited to the car or karaoke when I'm drunk. Unless I got some serious vocal training and assistance for a long time and got lots of good feedback from professionals and peers, I would not be making an album.

I'll give the Countess props for not auto-tuning the crap out of her voice, but at the same time, I think the song would have been a lot better if she had!

She has a lovely, mellow, alto speaking voice, but it does not translate into a lovely, mellow sing-speaking voice. (She is kind of talk-singing here, folks...) She is hard on some words, has no rhythm, and doesn't even sound like she's having fun because she is trying too hard.

You know what she sounds like? Exactly like a pretentious, middle-aged, rich, white woman who...wait a minute...

Happenings

2011-06-29T07:25:00.000-07:00

This weekend, we're celebrating my Mom's 70th birthday. SEVENTY! Holy buckets...it's just so hard to believe. And we're also celebrating my step-Dad's retirement! He has been teaching for such a very long time and finally decided to give himself a break.

I don't think of my folks as old or anything...they are pretty capable and in good shape. I do see some tell tale signs, though, that they're getting on (besides 70th birthdays and retirements, which are clear signals!) I was a passenger while my Mom drove last weekend and it was obvious to me that her skills are deteriorating. And, I sometimes see them less willing to try new things, like the grill or the cordless phone we bought them, because it's new and different and they're a little intimidated. They like things simple...they share one cell phone between them.

At the same time, I see their sense of adventure is still in tact. They go on little drives (about an hour) to the Farmer's Market, but then they go on big drives, too: a few years ago, they drove all the way to Mt. Rushmore (from Ohio!) armed only with a general plan, their luggage, funds and GPS.

My folks may be getting older, but I don't think they are winding down by any means.

My sister and her family will come into town this weekend to celebrate these occasions and I know that will make her very happy and proud. My step-Dad will be touched. I know it will be a lovely time.

Until then, planning, gifts, cleaning and organizing (so much still needs to be done and not enough time to do it all!) and looking forward to celebrating their lives.

Competent

2011-06-28T05:36:00.000-07:00

If you've been watching the Casey Anthony trial, you probably have an opinion by now as to whether or not she is guilty. I've tried to watch the summaries in the evening and keep an open mind, only because I wanted to view the evidence presented to the jury to imagine what they were thinking. But, that is pretty hard to do when I've read (like so many have) just about everything that was released into State's evidence since day one, so I feel like I have the inside scoop that he jury lacks. (I still have such a hard time imagining that they found an impartial jury who hadn't heard much about the case...there is SO much out there.)

Some of the big evening debates on HLN cover whether or not Casey sustained sexual abuse by her father and brother, whether or not Caylee could have gotten into the pool herself, whether or not her parents are lying for her, and whether or not Roy Kronk had something more to do with the case than "just" finding Caylee's remains.

I feel like those points are moot. We can debate those all day long and likely, we'll never know the truth.

The truth is what stands out so clearly to me: a mother who loves her baby does not go on a date to rent movies the night that her child dies, whether accidentally drowned or otherwise. She doesn't enter a "hot body" contest four days later. She doesn't live it up and get tattoos and steal money and commit fraud. She doesn't make up elaborate lies about where the child is, or invent mysterious people to frame her stories.

Some people would look at that summary and say that Casey had lost it. I look at it and say that she was going for broke, doing whatever the heck she wanted to do, and certainly wasn't thinking about the future.

I know that people are quick to bust out the "mentally ill" card, but really? I know there are all kinds of menal illness...my mother was a clinician for over 40 years, and I've also known my fair share of imbalanced people. Heck, I've felt a little off balance at times. But to me, if you know the difference between right and wrong...if you know that something is wrong enough to hide it...you aren't crazy. You may be a selfish, sick piece of garbage, but you aren't crazy. And if you say you are, it's an insult to every person who is struggling with mental illness and ISN'T out partying the day after her child "disappears."

Three psychologists evaluated Casey this weekend and all came to the same conclusion: she is competent. I was not surprised that they found Casey competent, but I did think it was interesting that Britney Spears is still considered to be incompetent to testify in court, and she's been under conservatorship for years. But I still think she is better "behaved" than Casey and appears to be far less devious. Hmm.

I dont' feel that the Anthony's are especially disfunctional...from what I've seen, George and Cindy's only failure is raising a daughter who has no accountability. They certainly could not have ever imagined that a lack of discipline (and a ton of love) could have lead to this. They may have had glimpses that something was a little off with Casey...the lying, the instances where elements of her stories just didn't add up... But I think it's actually pretty common to try to overlook those red flags in the family and hope that everything will shake out. It's a phase. Things will get better. That kind of thing. They were not a disfunctional family. They were functioning. They are still trying to function, even after this incredible loss, even after this unbelieveable amount of stress.

They are now doing what humans do: adapting, surviving, trying.

Only a few days left for the Defense. What do you think will happen?

CLICK!

2011-06-14T13:08:00.000-07:00

Pup is now 15 weeks old. He has learned some key things like, where things are, how to go up and down the stairs, how to coax us into giving him baby carrots and most of the time, where his pee pad is located (and how to use it).

He kills the dog toys we buy him (and I repair for him) with gusto...our backs turned for a minute, only to find that he has stuffing all over and a limp rag of a toy remaining between his paws.

He got his last Parvo immunization on Saturday, and we've started taking him outside, which he is still trying to decide if he likes or not.

And...last night, for the first time since the first week we got him, he barked. Only once. And it was because the washing machine in the basement was squeaking loudly, as it had a full load of towels in it. We were encouraging his curiousity a little...he ran to the top of the basement steps and peered into the darkness, listening to the squeaking, and we kept saying, "What's that?!" And he barked. And then ran to the safe shade of my exercise bike, where I was perched.

And we received our Karen Pryor Clicker Training Kit for Puppies last night. Within two, short, four minute sessions, he was sitting consistently. Will he remember tonight? We'll find out soon!

He is growing and growing...good dog...

Sad Elvis

2011-06-13T09:06:00.000-07:00

If you read here, you know that I do this sometimes: I get The Quiets. And if you have a blog, and you write in it regularly, you have probably experienced them, too.

It's not that I don't have anything to say. I do. I have just been keeping it to myself.

I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the elevator doors at work recently and I was reminded of something Steinvic and I saw on our Honeymoon visit to Vegas last Fall. Walking down one of the long corridors from the outside world into the casino was an Elvis.

He was walking briskly, but his head was kind of down. He had no swagger. He was kind of muttering to himself. He fumbled to light a cigarette as he walked along.

Even with his white and gold jumpsuit, his tan skin, Elvisish sunglasses and perfectly coiffed hair, he looked...sad.

I'm not sad, though. I'm happier than I have been in a long time and I feel very balanced and normal.

It's more like...I'm all dressed up with no place to go. There are a thousand million things in this world that I want to do, and that Steinvic wants to do, and that we want to do for our family and friends while we're on this planet.

And I'm not seeing progress. I mean, we're fine! We have, thank Goodness, great jobs and our health and a roof over our heads. We are THANKFUL for all of these things.

But the dreams. Dreams. I want to feel the elation of seeing some of our dreams come true.

Oh, you know what all this is about, don't you?

I'm turning 40 in less than two months. It's like that damn clock has been ticking over my head my whole life and I just noticed it a few minutes ago, and now I'm all, "Holy crap...I better get busy!"

And I can't talk about it. I try and it just sounds like bitching or a mid-life crisis. I don't want to bitch about it or label it...I want to DO something about it.

I am so talented. That isn't bragging. I mean, I'm no Elvis, but I can make stuff. I'm creative. I'm tireless. If I don't know how to do something I either figure it out or I ask someone to show me and then I conquer it. I like the feeling of accomplishment. I'm not competitive, but I like working and seeing and enjoying the results of my work. It's who I am. I have a lot to give.

So, I am charging myself with doing something about it. Because...as Steinvic reminded me yesterday, we only have this one life.

It is time...

(And I'm sorry I've been so silent. I didn't mean to be...)

Moving On!

2011-05-31T07:42:00.000-07:00

So, enough whining. A new day puts great perspective on everything, right? And buying a new dress for a friend's wedding in a few weeks, and getting it for a whopping $51 and free shipping doesn't hurt, either, does it? New day, new dress, new outlook. Huzzah!

Have you been keeping up with the Casey Anthony trial? You know I've been waiting for this for almost three years. I follow a few cases religiously...can't help it. The West Memphis Three tragedy is one I have followed nearly half my life! The Ryan Widmer case. Missing Kyron Horman...almost a whole year now. And the Anthony case.

I am so glad that it is finally being tried. I'm not one of these blood-lusting people who are looking for a death sentence for Casey. I am one who prefers that someone who is guilty serves a life sentence behind bars, no parole. That is a far greater punishment than death.

For someone like Casey, who prided herself on her looks, promiscuity, attention from men, shopping, dancing, partying...being in the clink is like torture.

I do think she killed her daughter and I always have. I never believed in the Zanny the Nanny person she made up...it doesn't make any sense. I don't think that George Anthony sexually abused Casey at all.

What I think is...Casey is a mixed-up girl who was extremely, painfully jealous of her daughter. Everyone loves Caylee. Especially Cindy and George.

Whatever the big blow up the night before Caylee disappeared made Casey snap. I am so sure of it. I think she'd entertained thoughts of what life without Caylee would be like, but felt guilty about it. Not killing her, but maybe leaving her with Cindy and George. But then she'd feel guilty, and then she'd think about how it would look, and how much Cindy would enjoy being with Caylee all the time, and that made Casey even more jealous. And also...how would Casey explain it to anyone? I mean, what kind of mother gives up her child to her parents, right? So that she could go party and do whatever?

(I think a smart, young mother might do that if she did not feel equipped to handle the responsibility. I think someone who knows her limitations and abilities might make that very sound decision for the benefit of the child.)

I imagine that Casey flipped out after that arguement and killed Caylee. I can't say exactly how it happened...accidental overdose of chloroform, as has been speculated about? Intentional overdose of it? Angry rage? I don't know. But I do know that she did it, it was quick, and she went about her business of romancing her latest boyfriend. And from the photos that followed over the next month, Casey never looked back.

If Caylee was not with a sitter all the time when Casey was out and about all day and night - and we know she was not and that no sitter existed - who was she with? And, if Casey wasn't at work all day every day - and we know she was not, because she didn't have a job - then what was she doing away from the house each day when she was pretending to work?

I don't know how many of the questions we'll get answered during the course of this trial, but I do believe that the jury will find Casey guilty of murder...

Weekend

2011-05-30T18:14:00.000-07:00

We entertained this weekend, and that was good. J got to meet our pup finally, and we had been looking forward to that for some time... Nice to have our house tidy and show off some culinary skills. And tonight, the parents came for dinner...it was good, too...

But tough for me. This might be a post I later delete, but for tonight, I vent. And it seems petty, as we watch a documentary about the Civil War and slavery, I feel stupid for letting a few comments reduce me to tears.

I am not lazy. I can say that this weekend alone, I have maybe sat a total of four hours. I have cooked and cleaned, happily working hard to make our house feel more like a home. I have managed to get bike rides in, totaling 14 miles over the last three days. Mopping, dusting, cooking, primping.

But one comment, one conversation, demolishes all the pride and self confidence I work so hard for. And I know she didn't mean to be mean...

I am not a ten on the outside. I know it. I don't need a mirror or a scale to tell me I have work to do and I am doing it. But I also don't need anyone to point my obvious shortcomings to me, especially when I am working so hard to look perfect.

I have a husband and a pup who think I hung the moon.

When the person who brought you into the world lets you know you aren't up to par, nothing you or those you treasure think makes that okay. So...tonight, I am trying to listen to my potential.

We are not all a size 2 naturally. I once was, when all I did was drink and smoke, and still pulled 45 minutes on the stairmaster 6 days a week.

I would say that at 5' 7'', 110 lbs, I was the unhealthiest I have ever been. But I "looked good."

I am still tall and very, very strong, but I weigh a lot more. A recent health assessment puts all my numbers at perfect. Except my weight. And I am working on it. But damn if none of that matters tonight.

This moment, I may as well be a giant cow who eats everything she wishes with abandon...not a pescaterian who avoids sugar and processed foods, and works out regularly.

Words. They suck and they sink. I am searching for my own to keep floating.

Back In the Groove

2011-05-22T13:21:00.000-07:00

New Orleans was awesome, awesome, awesome. But I was totally homesick (and Pupsick) by the time we came back on Wednesday night.

There were lots of things we could have liked to do...just ran out of time, and were too into doing the other things we were already liking, such as visiting the Funky Pirate, strolling the French Quarter and drinking Hurricanes every day.

Some places you just have to visit if you go:
The Funky Pirate, of course
Maximo's
Coop's Place
Johnny White's

You have to see Big Al Carson and Cori Walters groups play at The Funky Pirate, too. You don't want to miss that!

And the workshop we were there for (and planned)went really well. Everyone there told us that it was the best workshop they'd ever attended, which feels great.

Since getting home, we've just been working to get back into our routines and catch up on laundry, chores and sleep. We finally got the back patio in order yesterday, with Steinvic tackling the weedwhacking, and me trimming our little tree back and putting out 7 bags of gorgeous mulch.

AND, in puppy news...he got his vet checkup yesterday and the little dude is up to 6 pounds, 1.5 ounces. He seems pretty glad we're home, too, and is also back to his routine...

Life is good!

What I am Loving...

2011-05-16T20:48:00.000-07:00

New Orleans...for years, I suspected that if I ever made it here, I would not want to leave.
The people? Wow. The music? Soul shaking. The food? I am spoiled... Ruined for life. This town? Hot, spicy, comfortable, intriguing, friendly, foreign, loud, soft and easy...all at once. I am smitten. More later... But if you haven't tried it, you are missing out.

Sleepovers

2011-05-10T05:24:00.001-07:00

In preparation for an upcoming trip for work, Steinvic and I have been trying to get Pup acclimated to spending time at my parents' house.

He's doing remarkably well, seems to be getting comfortable with car rides, and since they have visited numerous times since we got him just two weeks ago, he is comfortable with them and their home.

Saturday, we headed to Cbus to spend time with Steinvic's family for Mother's Day, and we dropped Pup off at the folks for a sleepover.

And Steinvic and I got to have a sleepover, downtown, in a lovely renovated hotel room, that he scheduled for us, and it was our first stay out late/sleep in morning since Pup arrived. How nice that was! I think I slept about nine hours, and the bed was so comfortable it has us seriously considering buying a new bed now instead of waiting until we move.

We LOVE Pup. He is a entertaining and lively and funny and exhausting. Anyone who has had a puppy knows that this stage doesn't last forever. At some point, Pup will become a dog who - while still active when inspired - won't be the same little never-ending ball of energy we've got now.

So, we've had to grow a little patience. Okay...I've had to grow a little patience.

Steinvic is the kind of guy that if he says, "No. NO!" to Pup a few times for toe/sock biting, and Pup doesn't mind him, he'll go upstairs and put shoes on. THAT is patience.

I struggle with it. And then I realize that I am trying to reason with an animal that doesn't necessarily understand what I want him to do, and that he just can't do it yet. He will be able to learn things when he gets older, and we plan to Click train him (beginning when we get back from our trip), but for the moment, there are lots of things that he just doesn't get.

My new plan is to distract Pup with an appropriate toy when he chews/bites things he's not supposed to and that if he gets really out of control, we can crate him for a while, and it's not cruel (I feel like we're hurting his feelings when we crate him!)

So...I am the one who really needs retraining right now. Especially during this teething, baby, growing, learning stage. Patience. Not my strongest trait, but I'll get there.

What has Pup learned since living with us for two weeks? He sleeps through the night. He doesn't shriek any more when we leave the house. He eats his baby carrot treats like they are the best thing in the world and understands his water dispenser (it fills if he drinks from it and I have seen him watching the air bubbles go up inside the bottle as he drinks) and food schedule completely. He will fetch (he doesn't realize that we want him to do this...even though we praise him for it. He just wants to PLAY!) his elephant and his ball over and over. He has figured out the potty situation and uses his newspaper/platform about 95% of the time now.

For a little tiny guy, he's learned a lot, super fast. And so have we!

Why Birthers - and Donald Trump - Need to Shut It, Now

2011-05-06T09:29:00.000-07:00

I avoid talking politics here. So please know this post really isn't political. It's about appropriateness and respect.

For weeks now, Donald Trump and "Birthers" have been challenging Obama by insisting he produce documentation to prove that he was indeed born in the United States. So many people have supported it by saying, "What is the big deal? Show it!"

And then, there are a lot of people who have responded with, "Would you ask Obama to produce this documentation if he were white?"

Racism literally nauseates and infuriates me. It is my one hot button. Okay, I admittedly have a few more, (picking on folks with special needs, child abuse, animal abuse) but racism is a biggie for me based on how I was raised and what I've seen and experienced. So, because I know this about myself, and I think it's such a horribly ugly attribute for someone to have, I do not draw conclusions about racism easily. A behavior or statement has to be pretty blatant for me to say, "Okay...that was totally racist..."

But I have to say, the way that Obama has been treated sometimes since he has been in office has made me tilt my head a few times and consider the racism claims. Because I don't recall a Congressman yelling "You LIE" during any speech given by any president prior to Obama. And this challenging attitude that Trump and the Birthers (sounds like the name of a really unappealing rockband) have about our President seems pretty disrespectful. What makes them think they have the right to be so outspoken and familiar?

(And yes, I would make this same statement if Obama were a Republican. I was absolutely offended when the Iraqi man threw a shoe at President Bush, even though I was not a Bush Fan and the Iraqi clearly has distain for Americans and no real reason to behave properly. It was still completely inexcuseable, beyond the fact that Bush could have been injured and that would have been terrible.)

First, why it is inappropriate for someone to challenge our President, or anyone else, this way? Remember the fool in Arizona who wanted people who "looked Hispanic" to be ready to produce documentation of citizenship? And how crappy that sounded? Doesn't this request smell similarly rancid?

And second, does the "All American" Trump really think that our Government is so faulty that those who process elected officials' paperwork (it is a job, afterall) wouldn't ask for things like a birth certificate or a Social Security card? Really? You have to do it at any other legitimate job in America...WTH?

So, I'm not going to say that I'm 100% sure that it's racism. I think for sure that it's stupidity and disrespect...and something else: famewhoring.

We live in an age of "reality" shows, blogs, Twitter, Facebook...and somehow, I think that this has given people the false perspective that what they think and say matters. We're able to broadcast our thoughts and actions to anyone who will listen or read them.

Because these opinions can be heard (and reacted to), suddenly people aren't quiet. They can't stop sharing. They want the attention, positive or negative. They want the all the fame that their irrational, shocking and stupid messages can generate. My advice is, before someone tweets, "Just blew my nose...ew!" that they reconsider just what it is that they want in exchange for that tweet. Is this how you want to be remembered, as the person who filterlessly says every word that pops into his or her head?

Does Trump really want to be remembered as the possibly racist/homophobic (loudly and continuously hated on Rosie O'Donnell, too) zillionaire who - despite all that money - doesn't have an ounce of class to handle himself in a dignified manner publicly? Or, could he maybe just keep his opinions about people to himself, and focus his energy and time and money on things that would make him appear to be a good humanitarian? Just asking...

And yeah, I'm going there... how can anyone who doesn't have the common sense to shave off the horrifyingly awful combover go on and on, attracting attention to himself about ANYTHING? Donald! No one loves you! If anyone really did, they'd take you gently aside and guide you to the nearest barber...

Not sexy. If he's going to rock that hair flap, he's got to have something else going for him, and ugly talk like this ain't doing it...

A Dog's Life

2011-04-28T07:37:00.001-07:00

Yesterday marked the first time in our pup's life that he was completely alone. At his original home, he was constantly with the family or with his brothers.

At our home, he has been with one of us, non-stop, since arriving. Steinvic did a nice job during his time at home with the pup, working upstairs and letting the pup have some downstairs time. But our dog still knew someone was home.

However, yesterday, Steinvic was off to C-bus, and I had to work, so we had everything in place for Puppy Survival while we were away:

puppy gates to safely keep our Pup in the hallway

food and water bowls, filled

crate open with our worn t-shirts inside and his blankey for naps

toys, toys and more toys

newspaper for potty time

talk radio to soothe him (and hopefully not disrupt his belief system)

As soon as the gate went up, the shrieking began. Not barking, not whimpering, not crying... screaming. It was disturbing. And it made me have big tears in my eyes.

"Did we make a mistake?" I asked Steinvic, trying not to ruin my work makeup with the big tears. "I feel like we're being mean to him."

"No, no...it's okay. He'll be fine," Steinvic comforted me. "He isn't suffering or anything...he just isn't used to this yet."

I was the last one out of the house. I could hear his shrieking in the parking lot of our townhouse. I worried.

I worried that he was terrified and would cry out like that all day.

I worried that the neighbors would call the police.

I worried (a little) about being a bad neighbor.

I worried that someone would come in and take him, since that is apparently legal to do in Ohio if you have cause to believe that an animal is in trouble (and our Pup's calls sure make it sound like he is caught in a beartrap.)

I worried.

I went home at lunch to find that he'd turned our doormat into a toilet. Doormat, meet washing machine. I cleaned the floor, sprayed a bit of "pee encourager" on the newspaper, cuddled him, gave him a treat and he started freaking out as I walked toward the gate, crying and shrieking.

Heartbreaking.

But, I was fortunately able to leave a little early from work and there was never a happier puppy on the planet...licks and wiggles and wags and squeaks.

Squeaks because he was so hoarse...no cries left.

We played all afternoon and evening between chores. I emailed his former family and asked some questions and got some good suggestions to try in addition to what we'd done.

I tried them today and it was a little better.

I know he'll learn...he is brilliant and is already making it through the night. But it's getting there that is tough.

I have discovered that I am a softie at heart. I can be strong to help him learn, but inside...argh!

Happy Birthday, Young Man

2011-04-27T07:00:00.000-07:00

Dear Young Man -

Today, you are 21 years old. You've reached that milestone that most people can't wait to get to...seeing it off in the distance as something so far out of reach. The milestone that will make people recognize that you're officially an adult now.

But in my mind...for so long, you've been so mature. So responsible. Still a boy in some ways, but more often these last two years, when you talk about your music or school or jobs, you're a grown up.

You're vulnerable, but you're also finding your strengths. You're capable.

You are beginning to understand how this World works, but you are not willing to pass judgement upon it. You're still willing to give the World a chance. Don't ever stop. No matter what happens, please keep believing it is a magnificent, miraculous place.

You've seen relationships succeed and fail. You seem to do what you can to make relationships work...even if they are not what you originally thought they'd be, and that reminds me of your father. (It's a wonderful, diplomatic quality that I envy in a good way.)

You are open to new experiences. You aren't cynical. You are very, very smart and you're discovering that there isn't really anything you can't do, if you try your best.

You aren't a jerk. That is a funny way to phrase a compliment, isn't it? But I mean to say it just like that because I see some very jerky people your age and my age. I have never seen you do anything mean to anyone...you have no spite. You tease, but you tease gently. You would never pass over into cruel. Instead, you're careful and considerate. This is a rare quality and you (and your Dad who also possesses it) don't realize just how rare it is because there are some seriously selfish bastards out there. I'm so glad you aren't one of them!

I know I had nothing to do with raising you, Young Man. You have fantastic parents, and you were well on your way to being the person you are now when I met you seven years ago.

But I have so enjoyed becoming your friend and watching you navigate your teen years, and I'm grateful that I was there for all of it. Those years can be really tough. You got through it all so gracefully and bravely. And you had fun. I will, my whole life, remember how inspiring and amazing it has been to watch you find your music and to follow your dreams.

I'm proud of you. I'm proud to be a part of your family and I'm proud to be your friend. My life didn't unfold in a way that allowed me to biologically have a son, but I couldn't even imagine one better than you. And I couldn't love you any more, if you were my very own.

Happy Birthday to you, and here's to many, many more.

Love,
me

He Is Here...

2011-04-25T09:23:00.000-07:00

On Saturday morning, Steinvic and I woke up, cleaned up, then drove for an hour and a half, into the country to pick up our dog. It was an overcast day, but the lush green countryside was beautiful. We had absolutely no idea where we were going for 70% of the trip, since our pup was born to a really neat family who lives in rural Indiana.

When we were invited in and saw our little guy, snoozing on the couch next to the keeper's youngest daughter, we melted.

He was a just bit bigger than we pictured he'd be in our mind's eyes...all four pounds of him. But that was actually a relief. He was still very tiny and very sleepy and very vulnerable and extremely sweet. Worn out from the bath she'd given him before we arrived...something that she says always makes him very tired.

On the long ride home, he sat on my lap and often stared up at Steinvic's face while Steinvic safely drove us all home. He looked into my face, too. He shivered a little and whined just a bit. He curled up in his blanket and dozed off.

And then we were home, bonding and all figuring out this new dynamic.

It's pretty wonderful.

I Still Smell Bleach

2011-04-20T09:32:00.000-07:00

Last night, I power-cleaned our main bathroom.

Aside...when I typed that, my fantasy of having entire rooms I could actually powerwash came back into my mind. Wouldn't it be awesome if your bathrooms and utility rooms could be powerwashed regularly?! Big old drain in the floor to take down all the excess water? I digress...

Anyway, as I told Steivic on the phone last night (he's in C-bus...do you really think I'd waste a perfectly good evening that I could spend with him on scrubbing the bathroom instead?!) we are two of the most hygenic people on the planet, and we keep up on the regular maintenance very well, but ever so often, you gotta do a deep clean. DEEP.

The thing is, all of these hours later, I can still smell the bleach. I think it's trapped in my nostrils. Is that possible?!

And is it possible that I'm in Nesting Mode over our new dog, who arrives Saturday? Or am I in a Spring Cleaning mindset? Or panicing because Young Man and Girlfriend arrive next weekend?

No matter what, I was on a tear last night.

When I hear myself saying things like, "I used Oxy-infused Brillo Pads to scrub every surface in the bathroom," I realize that I sound a little nutty. However, if you have an older home with a bathroom that needs refinishing, and you don't care if you get little scratches, using a Brillo Pad is the way to go. (Actually, it takes about three do all the tile in the tub and shower area plus the tub itself.)

After you do that, why stop? Why not get on your hands and knees and scrub the floor? I thought I was going to break our Swiffer Wet Jet by scrubbing too hard. Seriously. So, hands and knees won out. Washed the inside tub mat, washed the bath mats, washed the shower liner (go green and just wash it...you don't need a new one) and curtain.

So yeah, something's up. But damn, that bathroom is CLEAN!

We have all of our pup's supplies ready for him now and Saturday is the BIG DAY! We are excited. Young Man is excited. J and her kids are excited. Mom and C are excited. Even my sister (who I don't hear from very often) and her kids are excited and I know this because they sent a giant care package for the dog. Wow! And a very kind colleague bought him a fleece jacket, which tickles us. The whole world is excited about this little guy. It's going to be fun!

I hope the bleach smell leaves soon, though...I don't want it canceling out the sweet smell of puppy breath. :)

Update to A Product Endorsement - Incoco

2011-04-18T22:23:00.000-07:00

Do you remember when I wrote the post about Incoco's Dry Nail Applique, and how excited I was about this wonder-product?

I feel I should give you an update. They are no longer available at Walgreen's. And before that, they reduced the number of appliques in each packet, making it tougher to squeeze two manicures out of one packet. (Not impossible, just tougher.)

I should have known this was coming...when Steinvic and I were in Vegas in January, I got all happy because I saw these Incoco kiosks set up in the common areas on The Strip and also in a couple of the shopping areas of the casinos.

After spotting a few, I said to Steinvic, "Do you care if we go over there? I mean, just to see if they have new or different stuff than back home?" and he said of course...he is super-patient with my quest for beloved products, and I try not to abuse that patience by knowing exactly what I want before dragging him into a drug store or Sephora or Ulta.

I asked the representative, "Are you selling the kits or just applying manicures for people?" because I didn't need a new set at the moment...I was wearing a new set. But I would buy some to take with me.

She only half-answered me by affirming, "Of course!" (To which part of my question?) And leading me closer to this monster display of nail-goodness.

I said I'd like to buy a kit and asked how much, and she replied, "$35."

I tried to not sound astonished when I asked, "For one set?!"

"For a set of three," she replied, smiling a big, Crest Whitestrips smile.

"Oh...well...you know, I'm just going to wait and buy them when I get home." I didn't want to sound like a cheap-ass, but there is a huge difference between $5.99 for one set and $35.

"Where are you from? You have Incoco there?"

I explained I was from Ohio and that, to be honest, my Walgreen's carried them and they were much, much less.

"Well, they won't be there much longer, we're going to stop selling them there. The best I can do for you is three sets and I'll take off $5, so three for $30."

I no-thanked her kindly and we shuffled along. I told Steinvic she was out of her mind, that I'd just bought the set I had on at Walgreen's before we left and I was sure I could get more.

And I did. Over the next few weeks, I bought the remaining packages at my store, only in the colors I loved.

And then they were gone.

You can still buy Incoco appliques directly by shopping online at the Incoco website. I haven't for a couople reasons...when they show a shade on sale or on clearance, it doesn't show up at that price in your cart. And, when I've paid $5.99 or less for something, I have a hard time paying double for it, even if I love, love, love that product.

I guess...I loved the convenience and performance of Incoco for a cost, but for double the cost, I'll just use polish and have to wait a bit for it to dry.

In the meantime, Sally Hanson has its own version out now (strangely still not on their website for me to link to) These do not adhere as seriously as the Incoco did, and the Sally Hansen version costs between $8 and $10 for a set (which like Incoco, if you're slick, you can fashion into two sets) but doesn't have mainstream colors or french, which was my FAVORITE, since even with my mad art skilz, I've never been able to do my own french manicure and have it look right.
So...farewell Incoco...hit me up if you ever go on sale...

Lost and Found

2011-04-12T19:17:00.001-07:00

I don't know what you believe...but I believe that things in this Universe link up. Some times the world seems to listen and respond.

It's not Divine, necessarily. It's not exactly predestination. But I do sometimes find that things align and unfold and regroup, often coming together beautifully.

When Steinvic and I married, I had a special bracelet made for him. It was my design, hand-crafted by a woman who made a necklace for him long ago, on my design, for his birthday that we spent together.

It was magnificent. Odd and sentimental and one-of-a-kind.

And right after we returned from our January, belated honeymoon (we married in October), it disappeared.

We searched high and low. We retraced our steps, emptied closets, searched furniture. I actually picked a fight...I was so upset and Steinvic seemed apathetic, which was in reality, fear and disbelief that it was gone and maybe a little hope that he'd find it before I discovered it missing.

We even contacted the airline, since airport security was the last place we could firmly remember him having it. We thought he'd skipped putting it on, (because it was a little awkward to put on and take off), and tucked it into his pocket, planning to put it on when we got settled on the plane. I remembered putting our jackets into the overhead and hearing a clank...at the time, I attributed that to our jacket zippers.

We received a truly kind, personal email from our airline...no bracelet was found.

And so, in these weeks, we resigned ourselves to the fact that the bracelet was gone forever. It made us sad.

And we talked about a new design...one that was similar, but not exactly the same, because I didn't like the idea of another, identical to the original, existing without being attached to us...just on the chance that it had been found by a stranger.

Tonight, I ran errands after work. Steinvic is working in Cbus and will be home tomorrow. I found clearance shirts at Macy's and did my MAC recycling so I could get a free lipstick. I went to WalMart to see the puppy beds we'd shopped online in person. I came home, exercised, did some laundry and sewed a little.

I misplaced the needle-threader my Mom got me and was pulling seat cushions off the couch, thinking it fell between them.

I went downstairs to get the vaccuum and got ready to sweep the whole room...I started to get the feeling that I'd accidentally thrown the threader away. But just in case, I wanted to vaccuum...it's a thin wire and I didn't want our new puppy to find it.

I pulled the cushion off the loveseat one last time, looking for the threader and then pulled off the other cushion...

And there was the bracelet! Found! Home. Here with us, even though we both were sure we'd looked there previously.

I cried. I kissed the bracelet. I texted a photo of it to Steinvic. I called my Mom to tell her. Steinvic called me right away and was so happy.

It's not the monetary value...it's totally the sentiment.

I don't put a lot of stock into things. As I've said before, I lost everything I owned in a horrible hurricane (that was my past life) and so, as a result, I don't care so much care about material things.

But a few, select, sentimental things...things that I meant for precious people to have...

I'm so grateful. I had written something special for Steinvic on our dry-erase board earlier tonight and I like to think that had something to do with this remarkable find...

No matter the cause, I am thankful.

Everything is as it should be. And I am lucky for a thousand reasons...

p.s. Puppy Update

2011-04-11T06:38:00.000-07:00

How could I forget to post this?

Our puppy had his first vet check this weekend, then emailed us to let us know. (how we so appreciate the awesomeness of his keeper!)

She said he checked out great (all the puppies were healthy) and that he currently weights 3 lbs, 8.5 oz.

First shots, worming and all that...check!

Less than two weeks and he will be home with Steinvic and me. We can hardly wait!

No Allegra For Me

2011-04-11T05:46:00.000-07:00

I think I'm experiencing the side effects of Allegra. I'll let you know in 24 hours if I start feeling more normal...I felt so bad this morning that I googled "side effects Allegra" and was knocked out to find that most of what I've been whining to Steinvic about recently were all right there for the reading. I didn't know if I was still sick or what, but after reading, I'm thinking it's the Allegra.

Of course, I make this stunning revelation the day after I purchased and opened a 15-pack. Which we bought because the 5-pack seemed to work. And I will say, Allegra does keep my eyes from itching and watering. But it also makes me nauseous, dizzy and unable to breathe.

Water, water, water. I can't stop drinking it.

A colleague just described a detoxification she experienced on vacation last weekend...a mud wrap at a spa and a soak and all these other waterfallish, massagish, meditative, warm treatments and if my body could salivate, it would have done so.

Steinvic and I need a vacation together. We need sunshine and walks. We actually had a walk-date followed by grilling something planned for this evening and it's raining and cold out, so unless something magical happens, we will not be scampering around outside.

This weekend, Steinvic reserved our room for the U2 concert we've got mid-summer and we booked transportation (we're gonna try Greyhound instead of MegaBus this time!) This is the concert to replace the concert that Bono had to cancel last year when he injured his back and had emergency surgery. So, we're definitely ready for this show!

We also purchased Young Man's main 21st birthday gift and did some plotting toward Mom's 70th birthday gifts. We uploaded Young Man's recital on YouTube (This took much longer than I anticipated. We thought it would be all instant. It wasn't. Each 3-5 minute song took more than an hour to load. What is up with that?!) and e-mailed it out to the family.

For as short as the weekend was, we accomplished a lot. Well, Steinvic did! He did the trip-planning and also helped me around the house and ironed. I worked Saturday morning. I whined around yesterday because we had plans to meet a friend at 3. I just couldn't get it together. And I'm so tired today.

I'm blaming Allegra. I hope I snap out of this soon...

I'm Alive!

2011-04-08T07:14:00.000-07:00

I feel like shouting it from the rooftops...I am finally creeping my way out of the cold that has had it's slimy arms wrapped around me all week. MAN! That was a doozy!

Something is going around. When I went home from work one day this week (one of my feeble attempts to actually function normally) there was a young guy walking out ahead of me. I saw him mop his forehead with a handkerchief and when I got outside, he was crouching on the ground. "Are you okay?" I asked. "I think I might get sick...I'm going home." I asked if he needed me to get Security for him (like, should this kid be driving home?) and he said thanks, no, he'd be okay. I hope he is. Just in our department, we had a mom out with her baby because of pink eye, and another person on our team out with a 24-hour something...it's just disease city around here.

I'm thankful to be REALLY getting better now. I don't feel as spacey. I'm using a Kleenex per hour instead of a Kleenex per minute. Just want to interject here that I am a somewhat compulsive hand-washer who uses hand-sanitizer and is probably a slight germaphobe. And I still got sick. So. Just something to think about if you're as obsessive as I can be about the hygiene. Maybe it's not worth it. What am I saying?! Of course it is! I could have caught something much worse, right?

I sometimes forget how lucky I am when I'm feeling healthy. Thank your lucky stars if you're feeling well today!

Music

2011-04-06T07:01:00.001-07:00

The cold...it lingers and lingers. Have you ever been sick yet determined to not miss out on something really special?

I took an extra dose of non-drowsy medication. I breathed deeply. I ignored the bad hair day I was having and walked tall, telling myself that I won't be defeated by a silly, stupid headcold.

I drove to Columbus, listening all the way to cheerful music to help propell myself into the right mindset.

I arrived and hugged my husband in a way that hopefully prevented the transferrence of germs. And then made happy chat with any friends or family who would listen, acknowledging that yes, I have a cold and sure, I'll be OK.

We found Young Man and he was nervous and smiling and happy we were there. His Mom suprised him by returning early from a business trip just to see him perform and he was thrilled. (And so devoted that she did this knowing she'll have to make the four-hour flight back to that business trip this morning...wow!) He had a few other fans to cheer him on along with us - his aunt, uncle, cousin and friends, his half-siblings and his girlfriend.

We tucked into our rows down front, all of us there for the same reason - we love him.

And he played. He played by himself and he played with friends. He played five songs and we hung on every beat of his drums, every plink of the vibraphone, every tsk of the symbols.

Young man was fantastic. All those hours of studying and practicing and listening to music have paid off.

I'm so proud that his Dad encouraged him to follow his dreams. I like how his dreams sound. His dreams weave music. And that music makes people smile and applaud. He has a purpose and he's discovered it and it's a privelige to witness...and hear.

So, for a few hours, I forgot about being sick. Music has the power to do that, too - make you forget about your cares...and your sore throat.

I Am Vertical

2011-04-05T06:51:00.000-07:00

You know, a whole day at home, where I could work and organize and purge and clean and watch stuff on TV would have been great.

Being home sick and looking around at all the things I wanted to do was not cool. I did have a few, small bursts of energy. I stripped the bed, Lysoled it and washed our comforter, then redressed the bed with fresh linens.

I put all the purses my Mom has made me (they are so amazingly beautiful) that are not currently in use into a giant basket in the closet.(They were silently plotting to take over our upstairs.)

I dressed the guest bedroom bed. I took a hot shower.

I tethered the budding orchid stems in our orchid forest to stakes to help them grow tall and straight. We're going to have so many blooms soon!

I washed clothes and cut vegetables for dinner, even though Steinvic sweetly offered to bring something home instead.

I answered work emails and tried to keep things moving, even though I wasn't really with it enough to be productive.

And each time I did one of these small tasks, I got sweaty and tired and would have to sit down to rest.

I am not good at the sitting thing. I like to be doing something. I have a hard time sitting still or lying down. Usually, either one of these things leads to sleep almost instantly. (Just ask Steinvic!)

But today is Young Man's concert and I am NOT missing it. So, I woke up, got my act together, showered, spruced up complete with heels and hosiery and skirt, applied my essential layers of makeup (which, I believe, has medicinal purposes)and did my hair and here I am. I will drive up to his university this afternoon and meet up with Steinvic for the recital, then I will come on home once we've enjoyed his music.

As I told a colleague when I arrived at work this morning and she asked how I was feeling, "I've been better, but some days, you just gotta suck it up and deal!"

The key is to get vertical. The rest will follow.

This Sucks

2011-04-04T08:53:00.000-07:00

I woke up this morning, sounding like a whiny frog-person. Sore throat. Stuffy nose and ears. Couldn't breathe. Achy head and arms and legs.

Last evening, Steinvic and I were at my parents' house, teaching them how to use the grill we got them for Christmas. Totally fine.

I admit, I have been ultra-tired lately. I had a touch of a cold about a month ago...the same cold that took to Steinvic and has lingered, but I never really got the full force of it. While I've woken up feeling lousy a number of times, I've just sort of shaken it off, saying, "Nope! Not being sick! Let's do this!" and then slathering on my 10 lbs of makeup and product and strutting on out the door.

Yesterday, when I woke up, my chest hurt just a little, when I'd try to breathe deeply, but I said, "Nah, not sick! Not me!" and cooked all day, in preparation to going to my parents.

Had a nice time there, stopped at our local on the way home, and aside from (sorry to be gross) a tiny nose bleed and some sniffling, totally fine. Went to bed and woke up to being a frog. So here I am at home.

I am trying to rally, because I hate being sick and helpless. That listless feeling to me is worse than pain. I'd rather be in pain than have no energy.

I am eating toast and drinking Steinvic's diet ginger ale (sorry, honey...there is plenty left!) Why do these things taste so delicious when you feel bad? Things I normally would not crave. I am not hungry at all, but I thought of toast an hour ago and obsessed over it until I finally got up and made some.

What is stupid is that my eyes are just streaming with tears. They don't burn, they're not irritated, just non-stop tearing. I need a shower.

Anyway, that is what is going on here. Must get well. Must be 100% tomorrow. Young Man has an end of the year recital that I will NOT miss! I'll let you know how that recital goes, but I already know he'll be wonderful. :)

Sunday, Sunday...

2011-04-03T07:18:00.000-07:00

Good morning!

Let's see...all the posting opportunities that I've missed in the last week or so... April Fool's Day! No one got me and no one tried. And I didn't, either! It's a sad world when there isn't enough time to play.

But we did take off for Opening Day and attended the game, which thankfully the Reds WON! Steinvic was off the rest of the week, but I had to work, and also worked yesterday, so I am just worn out. Flat out tired and wishing I had another day off to do all the things I want to do.

These dream tasks are mostly organizational...you see...in just a few, short weeks, our family is increasing by one.

No, we are not having a baby. (Do you really think I'd be able to keep that a secret this long?!) But we did find the right puppy for us, and he will be coming home the weekend of April 23!

If you read here, you know we've visited shelters, done research, made inquiries and even had one puppy lined up that we were pretty sure (at first) we'd get.

But in the end, Fate knew best and Steinvic found a little guy online. Almost from the start, we were certain he was the one. Once we communicated with the owner, we were 100%. She is lovely and professional and is committed to the health and happiness of her pups.

We've named him. We've been stockpiling supplies, researching training and potty plans and plotting daycare for him...

And soon, we'll post photos. As soon as he's with us, you'll get to meet him. But for now, dream puppy dreams with us... ...and grab a broom and a vaccuum and help me get this place ready for our new, tiny friend!

Here...

2011-03-24T11:44:00.000-07:00

No...no I haven't been hungover for the last week. In fact, St. Patrick's Day was pretty low key. We went to our local for lunch, had drinks and saw friends, and around 6:30 or so, went home. It's a good thing, too, because from what we learned later in the weekend, all kinds of naughty things happened after we left, including some dangerous liasions in the parking lot, fights, police intervention, bottles thrown at said police and the front door being broken (result of the fight.) We aren't really into that kind of celebrating, so I'm happy that by the time all that started, we were enjoying TV and some vegetarian Shepherd's Pie...

So, what have I been up to? Well, I put a post up earlier in the week and then took it right back down. It was mostly a commentary on some of the "celebrities" who have been dominating the media with stupidity recently, but then I decided that by writing about them, I was doing exactly what the media was doing and giving them more attention that they deserve less than the air and space they're taking up by existing, so I took it down.

But I will comment on this; Since that post, Chris Brown had his temper tantrum then dramatically left the set of Good Morning America because the reporter asked him questions in an interview, and he was enraged about it. I'm not going to go all off on how he was wrong for beating Rhianna, or how he still clearly has anger management issues, or any of that. What I will say is this...if you decide to be famous, and you choose to hit someone, wreck your car numerous times, abuse substances, forget to wear underwear, make inflammatory statements about countries/races/sexual preferences, post ridiculously hurtful things on Twitter or steal things, THOSE are the things you're going to be known for, forever. It doesn't matter how talented, broad-minded or charitable you become. You will always be known as "(Fill your name in here), the (fill in occupation here) who once (fill in embarrasing fail here)." So, Mr. Brown, you can be mad that people care more about whether you are sorry for your crime than they do about your new music, but that's just the way it is... Price you pay for celebrity (and for being stupid.)

I'm not saying it's right. That is just the way it is, even if you break things or rip your clothes off.

In this day and age of reality shows, I think it would be awesome to put Charlie Sheen and the Goddesses, Victoria Jackson, Bill O'Reilly, Lindsey Lohan, Rush Limbaugh, Chris Brown, Michael Moore, Joe Fisher, Joan Rivers and that "minister" from the Westborough "Baptist" Church all in a deserted farmhouse in the middle of nowhere, leave and come back in a month to see what was left. No webcameras streaming the madness...I just want to see what the outcome would be. I would have Ricky Gervais host the outcome show and debriefing interviews documentary style.

Don't ask me what makes me think of these things...

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

2011-03-17T13:41:00.000-07:00

This is my first St. Patrick's Day with my new, Irish last name! Wonderful...

Not At This Time...

2011-03-15T10:07:00.000-07:00

Steinvic and I were thisclose to getting a puppy. Yep, we're still looking for the right furry friend for us.

This one was a "morkie" or "yorktese," meaning a combo of Yorkie and Maltese. Cute, cute, cute. The price was right, but it didn't include a first vet visit. At the time, I didn't think it mattered, but since, I've decided that this is now a requirement, if we end up getting a puppy.

The woman was responsive to my e-mail inquiry and put the target wean date at April 11, which sounded great to us...time to puppy proof, get supplies and baby gates and mentally prepare for the responsibility.

We kept in touch. We offered to give her a deposit, which she never got back to us about. We asked to come see the dogs and she was busy, but never offered another time for us to come.

Suddenly, she e-mails to say that the puppies just opened their eyes this week and said we could come get the one we want this weekend...huh? Four weeks early?! She asked that we dropper feed him and said that the momma just isn't that interested in being around the puppies anymore.

I replied saying that we'd be more comfortable if the dogs could have their natural wean cycle completed before we selected one or took one home. Were the dogs still able to nurse at all?

Then the truth begins emerging...she has four other dogs, plus a cat that just had six kittens. Steinvic and I started thinking that perhaps she just had her hands full and wanted to move these little guys on.

Not getting a full wean can lead to a ton of problems - bad immune systems, social issues, health issues, developmental issues - and we just don't want to risk it. How devastating would it be to bring a little pup home and have it die or become very sick?

I asked if she was bottle or dropper feeding him and last night she said that the mom was nursing a little, and she just put a bowl of milk in the pen for the dogs to supplement. Hmmm...

We decided this puppy isn't for us. It just seems fishy. (Was that a little sigh of relief I heard from Steinvic?! Just kidding...) So, we're going to hold out for the right one. It's just kind of disappointing...but I'm sure it's the right thing to do. Hopefully, no one will want to adopt them and they'll be able to stay with their momma a little longer...every day makes a difference!

Random-andom-ding-ding

2011-03-14T06:23:00.000-07:00

(I don't even know what that title means. My fingers did that all on their own...)

It's Monday again. We did make it to Columbus this weekend, saw some friends, had dinner, drank way too much, stayed downtown (in the hotel room that I thought was for last weekend), had a nice brunch, attended our family meeting and drove back to Cincinnati after.

All the while, my right eye has been watering. Originally inspired by allergies, I now suspect that my eye is jacked because makeup went into it (due to watering) which made it irritated which means that it continues to water. And water. And water. And burn. And then water some more. TOTALLY ANNOYING. I know what you sensible people out there are saying: "Why don't you just take a break from the eye makeup to let your eye calm down?" Are you kidding me?! That is like you asking Batman for the keys to the Batmobile, or asking Superman if you can blow your nose on his cape. Ain't happenin'! We'll just stick to the waterproof stuff until the watering subsides.

Our family meeting was interesting. You remember when I said last week that we'd gone to Columbus to take a phone to a family member who is down on his luck? Well, it's more than that. It's complicated and we were meeting to talk about what to do to best help the family member. (Actually, the family member was supposed to be there, but didn't show.) So...it goes on. It's a source of heartbreak and worry and praying. It's too much to write about just now. But that is where we were and why we were there.

I had an exam for work last week and even though I studied like crazy, I failed it...failing is 70% or worse. It was the final part of a three-part course of study. Something you may not know about me...I'm not a good test-taker. Actually, I would say that I am a horrible test-taker. Here is how it goes for me - I go into the room to sign in. I notice my hand is trembling a little when I pick up the pen to write. I actually write in the wrong space because I'm nervous. I sit at the computer assigned to me and I notice how bright the light seems, and how bright the computer screen is and how someone is chewing bubble gum and the smell is making me want to hurl. (And I really like bubble gum, so I don't know what that was about.) The test administrator says we can begin. The woman in the cubicle next to me is taking an open answer test, (the rest of us have multiple choice), so she is innocently typing her answers on the keypad. However, it is loud and distracting, like she may as well have been hammering keys in the same box that I'm in. I notice my heart is beating in my head. Words I'm reading aren't registering, so I'm reading the questions over and over. There are 85 of them. It takes me an hour and a half to fail. I knew I failed then but got the details today. I failed with a 68 or 69%...it's on a graph and kind of tough to tell where the line falls, but still...really close. I can take it again on my own dime and get reimbursed once I pass, but I have such a difficult time preparing for tests...I dread doing it all again. The goofy thing is that it's on a subject I know a lot about...we'll see what happens. I gotta psych myself up for it.

Steinvic bought a gorgeous pair of sneakers for me (and matching socks!) last week, and soon it will be warm enough to start back on our evening walks. My former shoes were so old and hard and I'd broken down all the padding, so these will be great. And, from a fashion perspective, they happen to match the awesome Reds hat Steinvic also got for me, so I am set! (And spoiled, I think...)

The time change has me completely out of whack. It will be great to have more daylight tonight, but it was hard getting up in the middle of the night (my 5:30 a.m. was actually 4:30 a.m.... ugh!)
Anyway...that is about it from here. Besides that I forgot to pack a lunch for today. Okay, now that's it from here...

Weekend Update

2011-03-08T06:35:00.000-08:00

Sooooo...we headed for Columbus on Saturday after work to take care of some family-type things.

We've got someone in our flock who is down on his luck and trying to start over, and so last week, Steinvic activated bought a pre-paid phone for him and we covered the first month's minutes, too. We were headed north to deliver the phone and see Young Man while we were in town, too. Our plan included whooping it up at the place where we had our reception, as well as stopping into our favorite local bar there, and then spending the night.

I'd Pricelined a room in advance and snagged a good hotel using the "Name Your Own Price" feature and paid only $50! We were stoked.

And then we were especially stoked because Steinvic realized it was the Arnold Sports Festival weekend and the hotel we'd booked was like right across from the event. The going rate for a similar room there was $299...wow!

So, we dropped off the phone to our family member and decided to check into our room before meeting Young Man for dinner. I hopped inside only to learn that we did not have a reservation for this weekend. It was for NEXT weekend. DUH...

We still met Young Man, which was lovely, and stopped by our local, but I volunteered to be the DD and drove us clear back to West Chester around 8.

While we didn't get to have the yii-haa we hoped for, it was still a nice night and it was so good to be in our own bed...

...and we get to do it all over again THIS weekend! Plus, it's the weekend before St. Patrick's Day, and the festivities always start early in Columbus...

I'm Still Here...

2011-03-04T07:42:00.001-08:00

I really am. I've just been busy sewing. I have a whirlwind day ahead of me and then work in the morning and then some travel, but I will post just as soon as I have a normal moment, I swear!

Until then, I hope that you are blessed with a million things that make you smile...

Feed Your Head

2011-02-23T05:36:00.001-08:00

I just read a great article. You can read it, too, here, if you wish. And then run for the hills the next time one of these chain restaurants tries to trick you with clever, marketing double-speak.

I promised I wouldn't be come obsessed with health and wellness and blog about it all the time, but I have to tell you, I'm thinking about it a lot. I agree that a cleaner, healthier lifestyle is not for everyone. If you love Ho-Hos and watching TV and potato chips more than anything, I wouldn't tell you to stop...that is all for you. Sometimes, even knowing what I know, it feels like health is not for me, when I'm lazily watching TV, letting myself get too busy with things for others, or there is something else I want to do, like sew things or make jewelry.

But I also have found that once I get started, if I can just get started, the joy and energy I feel after exercising or making quality meals from scratch makes it all worth it.

I'm learning to make this my every day and finding it very fulfilling. And even relaxing (as I mentioned desperately needing in my last post!) when I approach it the right way.

When you, as Susan Powter keeps reminding us, take the time to put high quality food into your body and move in oxygen, you are improving your lifestyle.

For this week, I've cooked every meal from scratch, exercised for 30 minutes every day and avoided stuff I know is bad for me. In my food bag for today? A travel mug with a smidge of organic turbinado sugar in it so that I don't have to use the white refined stuff in my coffee at work, a clementine, an organic apple, a raw potato, a bag of roasted, in-shell pistachios (I'll farm these 8 ounces out over a week) and a container of leftover veggie soup I made from scratch the other night. Pistachios and coffee for breakfast. A clementine mid-morning. Soup and microwaved potato for lunch. Apple for the webinar I have to attend later on.

The only processed food I've had this week is a bit of cheese and sour cream on a baked potato, a slice of rye bread, powdered creamer in my coffee and some Szechuan sauce that I used in preparing last night's dinner for Steinvic and I. I'm on day four of this and I have to say...it's easy when you consider the alternative: continuing to feel the drain of energy and not looking or feeling the way I want to and deserve to look and feel.

So, while I haven't eliminated processed foods completely, I'd say I've cut them waaaaay back and that is a great start. I'm not giving myself permission to keep using processed items or to not exercise daily, but I am also aware that making ALL the changes at one time is a way to set myself up to fail (except for quitting smoking...that is an all or nothing with me and I'm happy to say I am no longer doing that. Even if I did have a random freak out last weekend where I really wanted to smoke, which I just rode out and then thanked my lucky stars the next day that I hadn't.)

How can I not get a little obsessed about something that has the potential to improve my life in every way? It's not a resolution, it's a revelation.

Relax...

2011-02-22T12:53:00.000-08:00

Frankie once asked us to relax, even though the beat to that song made it impossible to relax while it was on.

And I am trying to learn to do it. All the big red flags are waving furiously, trying to get my attention.

Sleep is bringing strange, icky, way too murky to understand or way too vivid to tolerate images. I catch myself not breathing, holding my breath while I'm typing. A colleague sweetly slipped me a copy of 8 Minute Meditation...

I need to RELAX.

It's hard sometimes, though, really...it really is. I get fired up. I have to be appropriate and professional in some pretty tricky situations throughout the day. I'm diplomatic, though...not a pushover, and that requires skill and a lot of energy. I'm blessed to have a good job, and to have the meaning and motivation behind that job be something I'm passionate about.

At the same time, though, sitting on all that energy can make me tense. Intense. And that is just work. Not to mention genuine concern for people I care about. And then the meaningless every day stuff. Traffic. Bills. Wearing away on my Relax.

Maybe I need to start sprinting every time something gets to me. Not non-stop, though...I'd end up in Florida.

For this evening, I'm going to breathe deeply on the way home, not rush in the grocery, calmly take my time to prepare our dinner lovingly, and while that is marinating, selfishly spend the half hour on ME, on my exercise machine, that I need so I'll feel good about me. And burn some of this stress off...

Leave Justin Alone!

2011-02-18T12:45:00.000-08:00

I have never (knowingly) heard a single note of a Justin Bieber song. I know teenaged girls love him and that he has a movie out. And that he was on Saturday Night Live the other week with Dana Carvey and I appreciated that he seemed to be "in on the joke," which I thought was pretty good for a 16-year old. I know all of these things vicariously, as I exist in a fairly Bieberless world, mostly because I am not a teenaged girl.

But I did catch the headlines yesterday referring to his Rolling Stones interview, and how Justin apparently does not believe in "loveless sex or abortion." One should note that he was asked a question about this; he wasn't using the interview as a platform for his personal beliefs. And actually, if you read what he said, he seems to be unsure and stammering a bit, almost like he's sorting it out as he is answering. Probably because he hasn't given it a lot of thought...

Because he is sixteen. He isn't a female and isn't able to get pregnant. He hasn't really wrapped his brain around the concept because it isn't part of his everyday concern. As well it shouldn't be, if you're a famous child who is probably supervised 95% of the time and doesn't have a lot of time to think about sex or abortion.

But those cackling, opinionated women on The View are all up in Justin's grill today, talking about how Justin Bieber is insensitive, doesn't have a right to comment and how inappropriate he is. How victims of rape and incest surely would not appreciate his limited views.

And here is what I have to say about that: First, I doubt in that moment that Justin was answering the question that he was thinking of abortion as a "solution" for a female who had been impregnated involuntarily by a twisted, evil family member or a vicious, piece-of-garbage-stranger. And second, I would like to see a statistic that says that the majority of abortions performed in the United States of America are on women who are pregnant as a result of rape or incest.

Please show me this number. I need to know. What is the percent? Because when I was Justin's age, many girls in my school snuck off to Planned Parenthood to get abortions because they had voluntary sex and didn't bother to use birth control. Yep, I said it...didn't bother. They were in the same Health and Sex Ed classes as me, they took biology and probably got better grades than I did and they knew that penis + vagina (sometimes) = pregnancy and they did not bother with making an effort to avoid that situation.

Certainly, these girls usually got on The Pill or started using condoms after the abortion, but that was an afterthought. And one girl in my class had seven abortions. While we were in junior high (which at our school was grades 7-9). And she was told that she may not be able to get pregnant again. And even in my youth and with my very liberal upbringing, I distinctly remember thinking to myself that it might not be such a bad thing for her to not be able to get pregnant again. Of course I did not voice this opinion because it was not my business and she would have beat me up (she was kind of a coarse chick...)

I imagine the problem stems much deeper than whether or not a teenaged boy is permitted to share his opinions, or whether someone is so caught up in the moment that they forget about birth control, or whether or not it's a woman's right to choose to have an abortion and whether or not a man (or boy being interviewed by Rolling Stone Magazine) is allowed to have an opinion about it.

I think it's that we're tangling morals with religion with practicality with fantasy with reality with human decency. No, it does not seem reasonable for a woman to be forced to have a baby as a result of a rape or incest. If we could go all Little House on the Prairie, we might suggest that idealistically, every woman who gets pregnant in that manner should just have that baby and give it to a good family who can care for it and love it forever, and everyone wins! Right? No. The bio-mother would probably live her life even more torn up than before. So am I saying abortion is fine in this situation? Nope, I can't. Am I saying it's not okay? No, I am not saying that, either.

I can't say. It is not my place to choose. I am not that woman or girl. I can't make decisions for anyone on this planet but me.

But I can candidly and opinionatedly address the situation that will more likely be more common for kids who are Justin's age. And that is, if you don't want your child to ever have an abortion, then find a way to teach your kids about abstaining, safe sex and birth control. They are three separate things and you don't have to tie religion into it...you can simply approach it from a place of self respect, encourage lots of communication and honesty, and then pray for the best.

I am not a blood parent, but I was a kid and I remember it well. And, I have been an active part of Young Man's life since he was 13. And while I know it is different when you're a blood parent, I can honestly say - and I have honestly said to him - I'd rather have him come to us and tell us what is up, what he needs and how we can help then to have him go through the heartbreak, stress and fear of dealing with an unwanted pregnancy.

I realize that a lot of good folks who are traditionally religious want their kids to not have sex, and they don't want anyone to have an abortion. And that is an okay belief to have and something you can shoot for or work toward in your family and in your life. But pretty much, I'm not sure that it's realistic to have it both ways. Recognize that, like it or not, kids sometimes have sex, and one of those kids may be yours. If you make them feel ugly and dirty about it, or unloved or that they have sinned, they will still have sex, but they will hide it from you and that fear can lead them into bad places.

I think that these cranky ladies on The View, chastizing Justin Bieber for his opinion, send a message to kids that they are going to be criticized when they talk about sex or love or intimacy and that is a shame. Instead, They View might have noted how it's interesting that children are sexualized and teen idols are now asked about such grown up issues. They may have mentioned some good ways to talk to your teenager about sex and abortion, and then maybe have an expert and some real parents on there who have done it successfully. That may have been worth the airtime.

Hmmm....

Something Right

2011-02-16T05:41:00.000-08:00

Nothing can chase away funky feelings like having something to look forward to. I was really ready for Steinvic to get home from Columbus. I'd started cooking before he got home and when he arrived, we had some wine and caught up while dinner cooked.

It was so great to have him home. Sometimes, even an overnight can seem like a long time.

And it felt good to be in comfy pants, cooking away, in our tiny kitchen.

I made vegetarian Shepherd's Pie using a "recipe" I completely winged, based on things I've seen and read.

It included white onion, celery, a yellow bell pepper, carrots, turnips, parnips, potatoes, zucchini and mushrooms. I made a "vegetarian gravy" and after heating all the veggies and spicing them, layered everything in a pan to bake. I sprinkled a very sparse layer of cheddar and Parmesan and then topped with potatoes I piped through a press.

And I have to say, I felt like I'd done something right...

Isn't it pretty? Steinvic said, "Do not forget how you made this! It's perfect!" I will do my best.

Here's to feeling like I can accomplish something...which isn't about making Shepherd's Pie. It's making someone feel like his homecoming is a really big deal.

Two Weeks

2011-02-15T05:32:00.000-08:00

Wow...two weeks and I haven't posted a thing here.

I've thought about it, but I almost never get on the computer at home, can't really post from work and it seems like every single second of my life recently has been occupied.

When I'm not at work, I'm running errands.

When I'm not running errands I'm doing wash.

When I'm not doing wash, I may be sitting down, sewing something (yep, I'm finally opening an Etsy site for my craftiness) but then I'm stopping to get the wash or check on something that is cooking or or or.

When I'm not doing that, I'm trying to jam in 30 minutes of exercise so I can look and feel better.

And work...I'm so grateful for my job, but work has become increasingly difficult. Stressful. Increased level of intensity for projects. I got a promotion recently and while that has nothing to do with my new projects (here you do the work first, then get promoted), I don't have the normal spring to my step I would after receiving recognition. I work with a few people who don't value my input and push back on every suggestion, even though providing input and guidance is what I'm paid to do.

I'm just at that whiny, cranky point where I don't feel like I'm good at a thing and I don't feel especially valued. I don't feel attractive or clever or talented.

Before you go handing me the jumbo-sized bottle of Midol, that's not it. And I'm not depressed, either. I just feel...disappointed.

I count my blessings. Steinvic...my heart! The most handsome, patient, witty, creative, loving man in the world. And he married me. ME! I am so fortunate to have him in my life. His son, Young Man...such a magnificent person who makes us both beam at the very mention of his name. My Mom and her husband. Fantasticly generous and loving people! The big family that Steinvic has given me. Our health. J and a few other good friends and loads of lovely acquaintences that keep things light and interesting. A good job. A solid roof over our heads. We've got so much to be thankful for and I am thankful. I really am.

But that doesn't stop this nagging feeling in the pit of my stomach that won't cease. I'm not satisfied and I don't know what it is that is missing. My verve...poof! Gone.

I kind of feel like...you know when you're driving somewhere you've never been before and you've got directions and you're following them as best you can...holding that little scrap of paper, glancing at it ever so often, while trying to watch where you're going and drive safely, too? And you're following along and suddenly come to a spot in the road where the directions are kind of murky and it tells you to veer one way but the road you're seeing isn't exactly as described on paper? So you do what you think you're supposed to do and about ten minutes in realize that you've gone the wrong way. You actually feel it in the pit of your stomach before you notice that none of the landmarks on the directions match and then once you've made that realization, your face gets a little hot and you feel a bit panicky and you hope you're able to get turned around and headed in the right direction again...

Know that feeling? Me, too. And I've been cranky (sorry, Steinvic...) and a little short-tempered and mega-sensitive...just a wreck. Not my usual self at all. And maybe that is why I feel like I suck at everything right now...I'm not doing anything joyfully.

I'll shake it, I know I will. But in case you wondered why I've been so quiet, I'm just working to sort things out...

My goals for today? To take deep breaths and make a delicious vegetarian Shepherd's Pie tonight. To happily welcome Steinvic home (yep, he had to spend Valentine's Day out of town...) and spend some time just being me. To keep sewing. To have as much fun at work as I can. To keep my chin up. That seems like a long list for today, but the motivation is in the doing, right?

Just Makes Sense

2011-02-01T08:14:00.000-08:00

I’ve been listening to Susan Powter online since she recently started her new radio in Taos, New Mexico. What a dynamic, fascinating person...she continues to transform. (One thing hasn't changed, though...she’s still - thank goodness - radical.) Now, instead of selling her workout programs and famous, philosophical books, she’s making art and giving fitness away. For real. If you order something gorgeous from her Etsy site, she will send you DVDs as well.

What a novel concept. She is giving away valuable information. Instead of selling it, she is sharing it. Wow. That is how much she believes in her message.

She’s over the top, yes. Fired up? Yes. Intense? Yes. But if you listen to her and hear what she has to say, whatever level of it you wish to accept or apply to your own life, it’s kind of amazing.

A few things that have really resonated with me and I cannot ignore. The most significant?
There isn’t an obesity gene. We’re spending millions of dollars as a country looking for the obesity gene and trying to explain why people are getting fatter and fatter. But in most cases, it’s not genetic. It’s all about what we’re putting into our bodies. We need, instead, to buy whole, quality food – less processed, fewer chemicals – and start moving around more. That simple.

You know how John and Yoko said, “War is over – if you want it”? Well…same, simple concept: “You don’t have to be unhealthy – if you’ll quit poisoning your body.” DUH, people! How could we be so naive?!

And other things have occurred to me – OF COURSE the exercise people and the heart people and the disease people are all telling us outrageous things like, you have to have an hour or more of intense cardio and strength training every single day in order to maintain. To maintain your current weight. Not to lose weight. If you wanna do that, you have to do MORE. I don't know about you, but I'm not even a Mom and I don't know how I'd find an hour or more every day to exercise.

Oh, but I believe that statement is true…with a caveat: IF you are going to eat the typical, American, processed-food diet. Yes. If you are going to eat fast food, packaged food, additives and synthetically forced produce, your body is probably going to require a lot of intense work to process and digest it.

Susan gently points out certain spokespeople for diet programs who fail, not as a criticism, but as a wake up call to stop wasting money on "programs" that are temporary and change our lifestyles instead. When I think about it, it’s not that Kirstie Alley is a failure. It’s that she stopped the program she was on. I fully believe that the Jennifer Hudsons, Valerie Bertinellis and Marie Osmonds of the world who got thin on a food program are still thin because they are still on the payroll and still eating the prescribed food. I have a beautiful friend here at work who is at a fine, healthy weight and fitness level, but periodically goes back on her diet program, and pays a financial penalty for being "over her goal weight"…financially penalized and goes back to saying things like, “I did bad this week,” if she hits a plateau. (She is not "doing bad." She is not bad. We really have to stop beating ourselves up.)

Of course each time these folks stop eating this prescribed, pre-packaged food, they gain weight. They gain because they’re continuing to eat the typical, American, processed-food diet, without watching their portions and you can’t eat very much of that kind of food without getting bigger. Those programs are still a modified version of the very lifestyle from which we should apparently go running away from into the darkness, screaming in horror while escaping.

My friend J has been teaching her adorable children about label reading for some time. They know the more ingredients in something, the worse it is for you. What an incredibly important lesson to teach a child. You should see them counting the number of items on their food packages when we have lunch together…they’re so far ahead of the curve already. J has taken the time to research ingredients (now that is parenting) and found that some of the things in our food are also poisonous or have completely non-nutritive purposes and we both wonder why, oh why, is that ingredient in there? Huh.

Last night, I made calzones, mostly from scratch. I used unbleached, organic flour, yeast, a bit of organic sugar and salt for the thin, simple crust. I cheated and used a little high-quality jarred sauce (no artificial stuff! I didn’t have any of our homemade sauce on hand), and sautéed some portabellas in a touch of olive oil and balsamic. I hand-grated just a little imported Parmesan and sliced six, small medallions of fresh mozzarella cheese (the kind without preservatives, in whey). Guess what? It’s insane but when you use fresh cheese, you don’t need as much. Of course not…fresh has flavor! I folded the calzones over, crimped the edges with a fork and baked them until they were golden brown.

I made a huge salad with organic lettuce, peppers, cucumbers and carrots. (I also added green olives, but they weren’t organic.) And while the produce wasn’t bulging with the size and color of the non-organic produce, I noticed that when I cut the pepper open, it smelled like a pepper. When I peeled the cucumber and had a bite of it, it tasted like Spring.

I have been feeding Steinvic and I the genetically modified, chemical crap for too long. (I'm sorry, Steinvic.)

Despite the length of this post, I’m not a fanatic. Really. But the light switch has come on and I don’t think I can go back. This simple message makes sense and has reached my chemically burdened brain: Any place I reasonably can, I’m upgrading our food.

The funniest thing? When we finished our meal, we were satisfied, but we didn’t feel “stuffed” or bloated. I think when your body doesn’t have to wade through all the chemicals to begin using the food you give it, it’s satisfied faster and you eat less. Just a thought…

Because the Elephant Made Her Smile

2011-01-31T10:08:00.000-08:00

Unexpectedly, you might see something, somewhere that gets your attention.

This something makes you say, "Oooh...I have no reason to have this thing, but I like this thing and it makes me feel happy looking at it."

It has no true practical purpose, but it makes you smile. And that...that can be more valuable than anything practical, can't it?

A colleague saw a stuffed elephant on an antique show and said it made her think of me and some of the felt creatures I sometimes make. She found a similar one online (scroll down to "Little Elephant") to what she'd seen on the program and sent me the link, saying she grinned everytime she thought of it.

So of course, I had to make my own version. In this photo, the maroon one is tuskless, but I added tusks last night and now it is sitting at her desk with my co-worker. The grey one belongs to Steinvic, because it was my first attempt and that makes it the most special one...

Such a small, felty little creature actually made a grown woman skip across the department to give me a hug.

And that is worth all the tiny hand stitches in the World...

Best Intentions

2011-01-26T18:28:00.000-08:00

I totally believed I'd post here this past weekend, and I didn't. I did sleep in a little bit each day, and I did wake and clean and organize some cabinets. I did sew and cook and dust. I spent time with Steinvic.

But I didn't post here.

There are some things that are going on that I would like to write about. But there are some things that are too difficult to write about.

My poetry guru would tell me to write about it even if I was too close to it. Even if I didn't let another soul read it now.

But I can't.

Steinvic and I are fine. Closer than ever. But someone we love deeply is in real trouble and our family is trying to get a grasp on it.

It doesn't seem right to write about it now. And yet, I can hardly think of anything else.

So...just for tonight, take some time to actually count your blessings. Hug everyone you love extra close. Thank G*d for your sanity, your health and a solid roof over your head. We are so lucky...

Blog Express

2011-01-20T19:46:00.000-08:00

I've been away too long, I know. So, let me make it up to you with an all-encompassing, express version of a T&T post:

It is snowing like a mutha here. Steinvic is outside right now, shoveling. Bless him! (Yes, I offered to help...) I got out of work a tiny bit early today and Steinvic worked from home, so I got in and started cooking a big pot of potato soup right away. He'd gone out lunch to get a pizza (for lunch plus leftover's sake) and to restock our bar, so we're ready for the SIX DEGREE weather we're due for over the next few days...

I'm crafty in addition to the soup-making. I'm making a pouch for our secretary at work and plan to stop off for a few $1 scratchoffs to slip into it on my way in to work. You know, because battling the freezing cold and snow won't be enough to do on my way in! But I know it will make her day and someone needs to do something nice for the person who answers 9578373897538 phone calls for us each day. I also made her a Valentine's tree to put on her desk.

I have been embarking on a whole foods revolution and enjoying Susan Powter's online radio shows this week. Tune in if you want to be inspired and learn about how to live healthily. She is a trail blazer for sure...she's been doing it forever but it's time for a revival...

We miss Arizona. We miss our family and friends and the blue skies and non-coat-weather. We love so much about Ohio, but there is something about the simplicity and low-key vibe there.

And that, my friends, is a wrap. More tomorrow and this weekend, for sure, because we will be INSIDE staying warm! Definitely time for updates...

Home Again

2011-01-16T16:30:00.000-08:00

We are back in town, babies...honeymoon supposedly over, winter upon us, Ohio time and jet lag a reality. I have to work in the morning, but Steinvic wisely took tomorrow off. After all, it is always the day after the day after our return home that kicks our hineys with the time change...

We had a great time and it is hard to believe that it's over... The family time is always the best part. We had a rocking party with the aunts, uncles and cousins the night before we left and that made the flight back a little rough. But all worth it...we will all remember the photos, the drinks and good conversation.

Tomorrow is a new day. Tonight is tortellini, homemade sauce, laundry and getting organized. And thinking about our good fortune. We have plenty to be thankful for...

Honeymooning

2011-01-12T07:23:00.000-08:00

Well, hello there! I am fine... Thanks for asking. Right now, I am curled up in bed, trying to decide if I have stayed inside these blankets long enough and if it is time to start my day. That's the thing about vacation - knowing just the right balance of doing fun things and truly resting, since rest seldom happens at home.
We traveled all day Friday, getting to our Ohio airport around 1 p.m. and finally arriving in Phoenix close to midnight. We woke early on Saturday to pack the car for a gorgeous drive to Vegas. We did not push ourselves like we normally would and were instead happy to stay on "our end" of the Strip. Steinvic and I gambled a little, won a little, shopped a little and had several fabulous meals thanks to our generous hosts (Aunt & Uncle) who have enough comps to entertain a small village! We shared an apartment-sized suite with them (not kidding... It had three bathrooms!) and got to dine at the hotel's exclusive steakhouse. What does a pescaterian eat at a steakhouse, you ask? Lovely crabcakes and a tableside-made Caeser salad. Yum!
We drove back to Phoenix Monday and just relaxed yesterday, doing a little grocery shopping and laundry, and enjoying a stop at a favorite pub for a drink and a sandwich...
Guess I will get up and start our day...even being lazy, you can't beat these Arizona skies...especially with snow on the ground back home!

We Are Sick, We Are Sick, We Are Sick, Sick, Sick...

2011-01-02T07:33:00.000-08:00

Happy New Year! We didn't decide to begin 2011 with mega-colds, but that is exactly what has happened, despite the hand washing, sanitizing, disinfectant spraying and even a night in separate beds - I really didn't want Steinvic to get this!!

So now the goal becomes getting well before we leave for Phoenix. I'm definitely on the mend - still snorting around a little, but my energy level is way better and I'm not taking any cold medicine except Zicam now. But poor Steinvic is in the "zapped" stage of this funk and so he is still sleeping right now...or should I say, finally sleeping.

We did go out briefly last night, mostly because we'd vowed to bring the recipient of the spinach dip a serving of kraut and potatoes so he'd have luck this year, and because another friend who we haven't seen in months was going to be at our local. Plus, we were getting stir crazy from being home and just wanted to get cleaned up and feel some fresh air in our lungs.

Early on, the conversation turned to Smashburgers. Have you had one? Apparently, they are fantastic. Suddenly, Steinvic perked up and said that a hamburger sounded awesome. That isn't what we'd planned on for dinner, but as soon as I saw that he was actually interested in food, I volunteered to run and get him one, and then take us home. I picked up one for another friend of ours, too. The little restaurant was hopping...it smelled like the hamburgers my Dad would make in the skillet for us when I was a kid. All the food I saw come out of the kitchen while I waited for their carry out order looked delicious. If they'd had any vegetarian sandwich options on the menu, I'd have ordered something for myself, too! Ten minutes, $15 (not too shabby, actually, for two 1/3 lb. burgers, an order of fries and an order of haystack onions) and two carefully divided and labeled to go bags later, I was on my way back to our local to pick up my poor Steinvic and get him home. He said the burger was excellent and I hadn't really seen him eat very much since he got this cold, and he cleaned his plate, so there is your Smashburger testimonial from Steinvic!

I'm in the process of washing everything in the house and also restoring it to a pre-Christmas state. I like coming home from vacation to a well-organized house where all we have to do is take our suitcases down to our utility room and unload them into the washing mashine. So, it's a busy time but I sure don't mind...I'm feeling better now and so I've got the energy. And I can't wait to get to Phoenix to see our family and have a whole week with Steinvic. This will be the first time we've seen everyone from out there since we got married - they just couldn't make that extra trip to Ohio so late in the year and we totally understood that...not a cheap trip!

But I sure have had some crazy dreams. One productive one, though...last night, Steinvic couldn't get comfortable so we went to the basement (it's finished, lovely and his recliner is down there, and also the futon was still made up as a bed from when the kids were here...I told you, I've been working on it!) because he'd have options of where to sleep, and I could be close by in case he needed something (yep, he is really THAT sick). I saw that Young Man's Girlfriend left a necklace on the coffee table and it must have triggered something in my brain, because I had dreams about jewelry I used to own all night and when I woke up this morning, knew just where the box I packed them in was hiding the guest room. I'd completely forgotten about it. It's not valuable...just costume jewelry from when I used to work in a clothing store. I went right to the box and found some really cool things that I know I will wear again and some that I will probably give to Girlfriend and to a nice lady at work who makes her own jewelry and would enjoy taking some of the items apart and turning them into something else.

Here is one of the finds from this morning's treasure recovery:

...and yeah, that would be one of the things I'm keeping for me and plan to wear right away! Isn't it neat?

Now I'm off to put more laundry in and make something hot to drink...OH! If you find yourself sick, buy some Zicam. IT WORKS!!

Last Post O' the Year

2010-12-31T20:09:00.001-08:00

Here we are. On the couch. Drinks in hand, potatoes on the boil, pajamas on.

The last hour of 2010, which was a great year.

A year in which I figured a lot of things out. In which Steinvic moved here and we set up house. In which we married and made a home. A year in which we began to figure out our lives and our life together.

Mick Jagger is prancing around on the television and it makes me wonder how he can be in such phenominal shape and I have the same 20-30 lbs to lose that I've been toting around for the last 10 years.

2011 is time to exercise and get healthy. I've already ditched smoking and continue with my nearly unprocessed food diet. But I'm not perfect yet. There is room for improvement.

There is room for reading. For writing. For more art. I am almost 40. If I'm going to do something, now is the time.

I was awake before Steinvic this morning, and watched the movie about Harvey Milk. He didn't start his advocacy until after his 40th birthday. While the story was profound and deeply sad (how did the movement lose momentum after all the hard work...it seems like equality should have immediately followed!) it reminds me that a lot can be accomplished quickly if you've got direction.

I need direction. Am I an artist? A writer? What?

I am not setting goals, but I'm open to possibilities.

But first, I'm off to drain and mash potatoes...

Happy New Year!

An Open Letter – Restroom Cell Phone Talkers

2010-12-29T08:36:00.000-08:00

Dear Restroom Cell Phone Talkers –

I need a word with you.

I’m sure that at your house, your bathroom is your sanctuary. You can hang out in there, take a soak in the tub, read a novel on the potty, or surf the internet if you are fortunate enough to have something wireless and portable to sneak in there with you.

But our workplace is not your house. And our restroom is not your personal lounge. It is a place to – as privately as possible - seek relief, wash your hands (thoroughly, please), freshen up and move on.

You are not The Fonz.

Our workplace bathroom is not your "office."

So, why – oh, why – are you talking on your cell phone from that corner stall?

So often, you are guilty of the “sneak attack.” This is where you are already in the stall when I arrive and you're on the phone, but you’re in the listening part of your conversation, so I don’t know you’re talking to anyone. (Had I known you were on the phone, I seriously would have gone to a different bathroom on another floor if necessary.) Then suddenly, you start the talking part of your conversation. And, with technology being what it is, I can’t help but think that your talking must be backed up by the sound of tinkling.

I don’t really want my tinkles to be overheard by the friend with whom you’re bashing your ex-boyfriend, the receptionist from your doctor’s office who finally called your prescription in or the mechanic who fixed your car for an amount greater than what you’d agreed to pay. But more, I don’t understand why you’d want the person on the other end of the line to hear my tinkles, your own tinkles or any other Sounds of the Ladies’ Room.

It makes me wonder if you think that the person on the other end of the line isn’t on to you…that somehow, you don’t think they hear the echo-chamber-like effect of the bathroom or the tinkles or any of that. It makes me think that you think that they don’t know what’s up when you say, “Hold on,” set the phone down, pull off some toilet paper from the roll (pretty distinct sound there, Fonzie), and then FLUSH. Do you think they don’t know what they’ve just involuntarily witnessed? Surely, you didn’t ask their permission, “Say, Mr. Jones, I want to hear more about that lawn care special, but I’ve got to use the can. Want to come with me?”

This building is HUGE. We have break rooms, conference rooms and learning rooms that are soundproof. You are allowed to use them! But the fact is that you are either void of etiquette or just flat out too lazy to walk down the hall and you prefer to duck into the one place that is supposed to be reserved for a function that does not require telecommunicating.

Regardless of the reasoning behind your rudeness, I’m asking you to reconsider. Either that, or I may begin using your cubicle as a toilet while you aren’t there.

Sincerely,
Tangles

Christmas Recovery

2010-12-28T07:41:00.001-08:00

We had a great Holiday. Steinvic and I celebrated on Christmas Eve – just us. We had cocktails at our local, a fabulous cheese & cracker and homemade soup feast at home, and then exchanged gifts and fell asleep on the couch during “It’s a Wonderful Life.”

We were lazy on Christmas Day until time to go to my folks, and Young Man and Girlfriend met us there. One of my (distant by logistics only) older cousins (she’s English, and 80 going on 50-something) was also there, and her love of music and sparkly personality kept the kids smiling. Young Man and my Mom bonded over their love for jazz records and made a date to get together to compare and share vinyl soon.

The kids, Steinvic and I all headed home and had our own Christmas there, sharing stories and joking in the kitchen while I made appetizers for the day after celebration at Steinvic’s sister’s home. Suddenly, we realized it was 1 a.m. and that would have been fine, save for the kids needing to get up and head for Columbus REALLY early (6 a.m.!) so everyone was off to bed.

I woke up early to make strong coffee in travel mugs and pack up some blueberry muffins for the kids' long, dark commute home, then slept a wee bit more and then we were up to get ready and drive to Columbus. A full house – all siblings and their kids – gathered around big, beautiful tables for an Italian feast, which was fantastic. Then lots of drinking and visiting and finally sleep.

Then back home yesterday…and we’re worn out, and both back to work today. I’ve managed to get some kind of goofy sore throat, watery eyes funk, probably from all the running around I’ve been doing. Seems like my body has a cut off for how long I am permitted to burn the candle at both ends, and then BOOM – hello, cold! Just need to shake it before next week…we’re headed out West for a belated honeymoon!

It’s time to load up on the B12, B6 and Vitamin C…and relax!

A Christmas Tale

2010-12-22T10:14:00.000-08:00

Here, we see a small penguin from my friends in front of roses from Steinvic...

Once upon a time, in a city not so far away from here (though it feels like a million miles away, or that it never happened at all), lived a groovy chick who found herself in a bad situation. It seemed that a horrible monster had taken over her castle and was slowly but surely destroying everything within it.

The groovy chick thought carefully and one day, with the help of her very brave parents, quickly packed everything she could and began to move away while the monster was out of the castle.

She packed her clothes, gathered some personal belongings and – at the last minute, as encouraged by her parents – brought along a very special, small, grey and black kitty (who was quite grateful to be escaping with the groovy chick.)

However, in her haste, the groovy chick could not take a lot of her most precious belongings. You see, there was no time…if the monster had returned to the castle during her escape, the brave parents, special kitty and the groovy chick ALL would have been in serious trouble.

So some things had to stay. Most of those things she didn’t care about because she imagined some day, she would buy things like furniture and artwork and dishes again. But other things…those she would grow to miss.

Her childhood Christmas ornaments – the ones she’d carefully made so long ago that her mother had saved for her until she had a home of her own – remained tucked carefully away in the upstairs crawlspace. The table runner, cookie jar and Christmas dishes from her only aunt stayed packed in tissue, stacked lovingly in plastic bins (she really loved her aunt, and cherished those matching decorations.) She left her bike. She left her Beatles scrapbook. She left.

She moved with her kitty to a new home. They bought a small tree. They bought some glittery things from the dollar store to make their home cheerful that first Holiday. It was sparse, but sentimental…and that became more important than anything.

A handsome Prince came into the picture, and over time, brought them love, happiness and some special decorations to help the cause. Years passed and he came to stay for good and had some of his own Christmas decorations to share.

And then, one fine Christmas weekday, the groovy chick met her dear friend and her dear friend’s lovely children for lunch. And the groovy chick was given MANY Holiday treats by the friend and children. So many beautiful, special, fun and handmade Christmas decorations that the chick thought her heart might burst with joy…and that her arm might fall off under the weight of the packages on her way to her car! The decorations would merge with those she’d begun collecting once again, and would make her home look and smell like the Holidays.

And as she drove away from the luncheon, she thought to herself, “Too much.” Her friend said she remembered how the groovy chick lost all of her ornaments long ago. And knowing that her friend cared made the groovy chick…well, some icicles dripped just a little on her face as she walked to the car. And she realized, this is how you really escape the monsters…by making happy memories with the people you care the most about. And she knew that all of her Christmases would be full of goodness from now on.

And the brave parents, handsome Prince, dear friend, lovely kids and groovy chick all lived their very blessed lives, happily ever after.

Es Ist Morgen

2010-12-18T05:51:00.000-08:00

It's 8 a.m., and instead of being snuggled down, sleep-in style, I'm sitting in the living room...Young Man and Girlfriend snoozing downstairs, Steinvic slumbering upstairs. The Christmas tree lights are on, all of my favorite candles are glowing and I've got a batch of lemon-poppyseed muffins in the oven. I've got a small pan of water and mulling spices simmering on the stove to make the whole house smell heavenly. Except for the furnace kicking on ever so often, it's completely quiet.

This is a feeling that is, on one hand - foreign to me, and on the other - something I've embraced so naturally, you'd think I always had a family like this.

Yesterday afternoon, Young Man and Girlfriend arrived. We left early to go to the Festival of Lights at the Cincinnati Zoo. It officially doesn't start until 5 p.m., but the traffic to get there from here - way north of the city - is horrible. So, we left just after 3 p.m. and they let us in...we almost had the entire place to ourselves for the first hour. We bought hot chocolates with Baileys and a winter beer for Steinvic and made our way through the paths, lights already twinkling, feet freezing, but also ducking into any of the animal houses that were open to warm up and to see the beings inside.

You know, I just finished and posted this entire, beautiful post, complete with a photo and links and blogger kicked me off and deleted everything I wrote!! ARGH!

So, let's try again! Festival of Lights was fun and Young Man and I got to pet pygmy goats, and one had a tickle spot that I accidentally found, and it made us giggle to see him bobbing his head with glee. We encountered peacocks, and one of us - Steinvic, I think - noticed them up in the trees:

Because of Steinvic's smart planning, we left the Festival just as the temperature was dropping and everyone else was clamoring to get in.

We took the kids to Melt for dinner, which was very different from what Steinvic and I had pictured in our minds. It was not a sit down restaurant exactly...more you go in and order, they give you a funky table card (ours was Betty White, and I saw Nancy McKeon and Lavar Burton on the way back to our table) and bring your order out to you. We picked it because it had vegan and vegetarian options and Girlfriend is now a vegan. And while we were a little apprehensive, it turned out to be really good.

Steinvic had a barbeque chicken sandwich, Young Man had a three cheese melt, Girlfriend had a vegan melt...and while I'd never have imagined tofu and peanut butter on a sandwich together, I had the award winning Rothko Tofu sandwich which featured those two items plus ginger hoisin sauce, greens and red peppers on multigrain bread. It was great! In fact, Young Man finished mine, because it was extremely filling, and then proceeded to finish Steinvic's sandwich, too. (He is a growing boy.)

We left there, pleasantly surprised and headed to Shake It Records - perfect spot if you like an intellectual, hipster, alterna-post punk environment. Young Man found a few jazz records to take home and we all enjoyed looking at the hard-to-find records and magazines lining the walls and shelves.

Then home for drinks and comfy pants and vegan soup making (I whipped up a GREAT pot of vegan potato soup that I'd been mathing out in my head all week and Holy Buckets...it is good!) and television watching and visiting.

It was a great night. And Steinvic is up now, so I'm off to make tea and coffee for us...

Snow + Tweaked Back = Grrrr

2010-12-16T08:22:00.000-08:00

And now, a musical interlude to illustrate my morning. Feel free to sing along:

Stupid Snow
(To the tune of “Jingle Bells”)

Dashing through the snow
Because I have to work.
We are having a snow storm.
People are driving like jerks!

The snow is packed real firm
On the highways now,
It’s going to be a royal bitch
To get home without a plow!

Stupid snow!
Stupid Snow!
Snow sucks really bad!
Oh, how much I wish for sun
That SUV just made me mad, oh
Stupid snow!
Stupid snow!
Snow sucks really bad!
I hope I will survive this drive -
This is really sad.

So, we’re having a little snow here in Ohio today. And it doesn’t show signs of stopping. Steinvic is working hard from home today, but I needed to come in to do something that had to be done in person. It took me an hour to go about 8 miles. I basically rolled here.

But I’m safe, warm, dry and getting things done.

Somehow, I tweaked my back last week and have been dealing with it ever since. Yesterday was the best day so far and I felt like I was at about 93%, so of course I did things I shouldn’t have last night (vacuuming, mopping, carrying big things, crafting hunched over) and now, I’m sitting here like a dork with a heating pad draped across my back again. It helps, but man, I’ve got THINGS to do and don’t have time to be ailing! Steinvic has taken on the additional role of masseuse, which I appreciate, but I know I will need to go to the doctor soon to get help if this doesn’t stop. It just flat out hurts…the kind of hurt where all the sudden you’re like, “I’m clenching my jaw because I’m in pain…I didn’t even realize it!” and then you try to shake it all off, take more Aleve and crank up the heating pad.

Other than a tweaked back, and non-stop snow, life is good…really! It is. I just need a snow plow and a chiropractor today...

Is It Really Inclusive?

2010-12-07T06:32:00.000-08:00

Did you ever see that episode of Seinfeld, where Elaine and Jerry and George decide that instead of saying “G*d bless you!” when someone sneezed, they would instead say, “You are soooo good looking!”?

It’s a great episode (aren’t they all?) and it’s also a nice reminder that what some of us find comforting, others are offended by.

But when is being considerate taking things too far? And at the same time, when is being offended an excuse to be hyper sensitive and to just have something to gripe about?

Christmas seems to bring out the sensitivity in all of us. I was raised Unitarian, and while I don’t really consider myself a Unitarian now (Belief-O-Matic says I’m a Quaker…go figure), one nice thing I took from that upbringing was a respect for other religions. I’m pretty darn tolerant, unless someone is cramming their beliefs – whatever they may be – down my gullet, and then I become a bit of a B.

In college, there was a very tight group of students who attended a nearby church and they were out to recruit as many members as possible. While skipping class and sunning myself on the lawn behind McMicken, my sunshine was suddenly eclipsed by a few of these students. I squintily looked up at their silhouettes and raised my head from my backpack which was doubling as a pillow.

“Can I help you?” I asked, shielding my eyes.

“Do you have a personal relationship with Jesus Christ?” the girl silhouette asked.

“I’m sorry?”

“Do you have a personal relationship with our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ?” the boy asked.

Now I’m getting up. Something about talking about Jesus while reclining with my jeans shorts rolled up extra high and my midriff showing for optimum tanning made me kind of uncomfortable. I unrolled, adjusted my tee shirt and brushed the grass from my butt. “Do I have a personal relationship with Jesus? Is that what you’re asking me?”

“Yes. Because we’re from the…”

“I know where you’re from,” I interrupted. My face was hot and it wasn’t from the sunburn I was working on. “Didn’t you just ask me about a personal relationship…operative word being personal?”

“If you’re a BELIEVER, then you should be proud to say yes,” the boy said, extending a pamphlet toward me.

“It’s really none of your business what my beliefs are. What kind of underwear are you wearing? Boxers? Briefs?”

I have never seen two people zip away so quickly. And I didn’t notice that anyone was listening to our conversation until about a half dozen of my fellow sunbathers began applauding.

So, I do get it. But there is a big difference, at least in my happy logic, between impeding on someone’s privacy or religion and putting up a tree.

I am all about sensitivity and consideration, but I just don’t understand how a lighted, decorated tree is offensive. We have a ginormous one at my workplace and I honestly don’t think of anything religious when I see it. I just think, “How pretty…” And then as soon as January 1 hits, I think, “Good gosh, let’s take all this Holiday stuff DOWN!” because I’m completely over it (as well as the snow and cold) once the festivities have officially passed.

Steinvic and I were watching something on the History Channel or the Discovery Channel or some other brainy channel over the snowy weekend and it was all about the hunt for Osama Bin Laden. And then there was a show right after that featured former American citizens who had defected and joined terrorist organizations, now hating America and all it stands for, as well as Christianity.

It boggles my tangled little brain because while I certainly have my hot buttons and convictions, unless someone’s religious beliefs include killing or hurting sentient beings for pleasure, I don’t know how anyone can get ticked off about how someone else chooses to worship. It’s a personal belief. Keep it personal! Or discuss it civilly, just because it's interesting to share ideas and hear other viewpoints, peacfully. (Some of the comments after the article are perfect.) And let others keep their beliefs personal. And then everyone can be personal and personable and we can all get along because we’re not impeding on anybody.

I guess it’s a mixed message to be careful but also lighten up…and maybe have some egg nog or peppermint hot chocolate with Bailey’s (or ice water or whatever your drink of choice is) and appreciate the lights, whatever they mean to you.

No Babies

2010-12-06T12:32:00.000-08:00

Two things happen when you’re a woman and you get married, and it doesn’t seem to matter if you’re 24 or 40. The first is that suddenly, everyone expects you to reproduce.

The second is that everyone loses their manners and openly asks you pretty direct questions about it, like, “When are you and Steinvic going to have a baby?”

If someone knows us well and asks us this, I don’t mind so much. I know that when family members ask, it’s because they love us and they all have kids and they think it would be super-cool-neato-mosquito for us to share the experience.

However, they momentarily forget that Steinvic and I are not young (we aren’t old, either, but for our comfort, a little too old to start our own family) and that Steinvic already has a wonderful son, Young Man.

So, those are the answers we give to the questioners. “We have a baby! He just happens to be 20 years old with a beard!” or “Nope, we don’t want to be the only 60 and 70 year old parents at graduation.” (Please note: I am not criticizing my fine 40 & up friends who choose to have children now. This is our personal preference for our lifestyle.)

However, if I’m honest, since getting married, a third thing has also happened: all of the well-rehearsed, sincere responses to the “when are you having babies?” questions have finally sunk in.

I actually now realize that I am not having children of my own.

I’m ok with this for many reasons. I’m not selfish, but I LOVE my free time and have no idea how I’d ever get away with simultaneously painting my toenails, watching girl stuff on TV and creating something artful between toe polish coats like I do now if I were a mother. (Of course I wash my hands after touching my toes – c’mon! I would not create art or anything else with feety hands.) I also know that I would be a complete wreck every time my child was not in my sight and I can’t imagine how edgy that would make me. I might be the kind of mom who got too involved. I might be too strict and expect too much of my child, or perhaps I’d be too permissive – either doing the same or exact opposite of my own upbringing. I might be a complete, psycho mess. I sometimes kid Steinvic, saying I’d be a crap mom, but what I’m really saying is that I don’t know if I could deal with the emotional challenges and major responsibilities of being a parent. I don’t think I’d abandon a child – even though it runs in my family – but I might do something worse for my child, like stay. (I know that sounds odd, but some people should not be parents.)

Not to mention that physically, I likely can’t have kids. (Which, by the way, is another one of the questions that near strangers ask that I really can’t believe: “What’s wrong?! Can’t you have kids?” with no pause or sensitivity whatsoever.) Since surgery, I’ve had about four years to get that through my head, even though I know that with the miracles of science or adoption, I might still have been able.

So, while I know that I’m not having babies, and I am logically fine with that and emotionally very happy to have Young Man in my life, it is bothering me, ever so slightly.

What has dawned on me recently is that I am realizing just what I’m missing. And maybe it isn’t marriage that has triggered it, but more things going on around me. That a good friend of mine – just my age – recently had a baby and plans to have another this year. Or that J’s kids are so wonderful and creative, with such great personalities…they really give her purpose and happiness. Or the way that Young Man looks at Steinvic sometimes. I see it and it goes straight through me – he really, really loves his Dad.

I will never know what it is like to love and be loved by someone who is part me and I won't have the chance to raise a person who could go into the world to experience life and love and do meaningful things. And I guess that realization is what is giving me a little pause.

But I’m okay. I realize that chapter is finished and for now, I think I’ll put a place marker there and set the book aside for a little while. Just long enough to rest my eyes. And then I can think about it again and about what I might do instead of parenting that could fill those pages.

Let it Snow...

2010-12-04T11:19:00.000-08:00

It's Saturday. We're in our pjs, sitting on the couch. We've had brunch, watched some shows, done a little Christmas shopping online. Laundry whirs in the background. Whatever ball game Steinvic wants to watch on TV is in the foreground.

And it's snowing.

It keeps on coming, even though they said just 1-3 inches today.

And we don't care. We're safe and sound. We took yesterday off and during the day, did our grocery shopping. Our bar is stocked. I'm getting ready to start a pot of soup. Then we'll undecorate our tree and redecorate it, as a strip of lights has quit working and can't be repaired. (small tree...not such a big deal to undo and redo.)

And we'll just be here today. Here and warm and out of the weather...

Conspiracy Theory - Graphite Spray and Pumpernickel Stix

2010-11-29T16:51:00.000-08:00

Why I am not totally stressed out, I have no idea, but I am as cool as a cucumber despite my crazy evening.

It started out innocently enough...Steinvic needed Sugar In the Raw in packets and plasticwear for work, and he wanted graphite spray to shoot into our locks since we're going to have bad weather this week.

I got through working before he did, so I called him at the office and said, "Want me to just stop so you don't have to?" His company's e-mail had been down part of the day and I imagined he'd have to stay late. "If you don't mind stopping...or I can stop," he said. But I wanted to make life easier and figured I could get everything he needed, plus sourdough bread and pumpernickel sticks at one place close to home: Meijer.

I pulled in, enjoying the sounds of my awesome iPod touch (amazing wedding gift from Steinvic) and clip clopped up to the entrance, remembering that last year, Meijer carried a Nutmeg Spice spray that I've been coveting since last year and figured I could get again this year. Wrong! Discontinued. Me and my boots clip clopped on over to the automotive department.

I wandered through the aisles. No graphite spray. I loitered in the outer aisles, hoping to see a clerk. Nada. Picked up the courtesy phone. "I don't think we carry it, but I'll send someone over." Nope...they don't carry it, the super duper nice lady told me. But maybe Lowe's.

I bought the plasticwear and sourdough bread - noting that they didn't have Pepperidge Farms Pumpernickel Sticks and thinking WTH - and checked those off the list.

Lowe's is across the (very busy) street. No problemo, I thought. In fact, a tiny Sears Hardware is also in the same complex, and I know they're struggling, so I figured I'd try there, first, and Lowe's second, stopping in Aldi's in between for the sugar in packets.

Sears Hardware does not have graphite.

Neither does Lowe's.

And Aldi's does not carry sugar packets at all, including Sugar in the Raw, Steinvic's favorite. Nor do they carry pumpernickel sticks.

So, I headed on up our main drag, seeking an automotive shop, figuring they would have the spray. Advance Auto Parts had graphite spray - yeah! I kidded the clerks, "Yay! I will be allowed in the house tonight!" He said, "Will your husband have a glass of bubbly waiting for you?" I said, "I know my husband...after this trek, he'll have a drink waiting for me."

I went to Kroger. Sugar in the Raw? Check. Pepperidge Farms Pumpernickel Sticks? No! They had Snyders, Pumpernickel and Onion, but I can do without the onion dust, thanks. A quick check to Pepperidge Farms' site shows that I'm S.O.L....)

I got home and sure enough...Steinvic right there, at the door, grateful, icy cold Whipped Cream flavored vodka + club soda on ice waiting for me, and soup thawing in the microwave.

Life is good. We've got supplies. But what the heck, Pepperidge Farms?!

p.s. I wanted the pumpernickel sticks because they're awesome and I'd made the double batch of spinach dip this weekend...pumpernickel sticks wouldda rocked with that! And yes, D was very appreciative of our efforts...he ate a ton of the bread and dip when we saw him on Saturday...

Getting Ready for Christmas...

2010-11-28T07:04:00.000-08:00

I love Christmas. It would be easy for me to not really care about this Holiday, or to even not like it at all...

I worked retail for more than a decade. THAT could kill the joy of the Holiday Season for even the toughest of us.

But once I got out of retail, and began celebrating the Holiday without the aid of a mall, I really have come to love this time of year.

I think that, no matter what your religious beliefs are (I had an associate who was of the Jewish faith who LOVED the Holidays) or no matter whether or not you love the hustle and bustle of the Season, you gotta admit that people (for the most part) seem to want to be in a festive mood.

The key is not getting too caught up in the have to's or the spending.

So yesterday, we made a list of gifts for others we need to buy (it's not a super long list) and talked about our plans. We purchased and assembled a tiny shelf for the basement (which now holds the last two boxes of unpacked memorabilia from when Steinvic moved here) so that it will be prettier down there for when Young Man and his girlfriend join us in the next few weeks. Steinvic got out the little tree from his place, and put the exercise bike in the basement so that our living room is clear.

Now, we can decorate. Maybe tonight, maybe throughout the week. It's not massive amounts of decorations or anything...but I'm excited because this is our first married Christmas, our first Christmas in one home, our first Christmas of mixing our decorations and beginning our own new traditions.

Hope that you're finding some joy in the preparations of this season. Pop Elf into the DVD player, dim the lights, light some candles, pour some Nog (or Peppermint Coffee if you're anti-Nog) or wine and kick this season off the right way!

Cooking Post - Spinach Dip

2010-11-27T07:31:00.000-08:00

Howdy! We have had quite an extended weekend so far...enjoyed Thanksgiving up north with Steinvic, came back in the rain and dark that night, then basically sat around like couch cushions yesterday, fiddling on the computer, watching a Seinfeld marathon and looking for adoptive puppies online. I did run out to the grocery in the evening (no traffic!) but other than that, we were pretty chill.

I'm making up for it all today. I got up early, put a turkey breast in the oven for Steinvic, and I've done two loads of laundry already.

And I made a batch of spinach dip for a nice fellow named D. We've gotten acquainted with him because he's been coming to our local for a few months. He is here from Florida - he's a liquidator - and can't go home because he doesn't get days off. On Wednesday night, he told us that he hadn't had a day off since Easter. He is living in an Econo Lodge. We told him that if we were going to be here for Thanksgiving, he'd be welcome to come to our place and he was so appreciative. But he seemed pretty happy about just being able to be off work. He said he planned to stay off his feet the entire day and sleep. Besides his family, one thing he said he missed about the Holidays was home cooking and that he had been craving spinach dip, "the kind you put in the bread bowl."

Lucky for D, I have my own little recipe for that and I told him I'd whip up a batch and bring it to our local on Saturday. And I'm going to share this recipe with you! Grab your bread bowl and get started:

You'll need:

A cup of drained frozen spinach
One 16 ounce container of sour cream (huge fan of Daisy Light)
One 8 ounce container of whipped cream cheese
A packet of Ranch Dressing Mix (I think Kroger's brand "Salad Magic" is just as lovely as Hidden Valley's at a fraction of the cost.)
About a half cup chopped water chestnuts
One small carrot chopped fine
About 2 tablespoons finely chopped red onion
Garlic powder
Dash of salt
Crushed red pepper
Black pepper

How to make it:

In a big bowl, mix the sour cream and whipped cream cheese until thoroughly blended.
Add the ranch dressing mix, dash of salt, about 15 turns of the black pepper grinder, four dashes of garlic powder, and about a half teaspoon of the crushed red pepper. Mix thoroughly.
Add the water chestnuts, onions and carrots and mix completely.
Add the spinach and gently mix until it looks like this:

You could add a little more or less of any of the ingredients and still be fine. This is one of those recipes where every ingredient tastes good on it's own, and putting t hem together makes them taste even better. You can't go wrong!

I'll let you know how D likes it, and if you try making it, let me know how you like it! Enjoy!

In the Club

2010-11-19T10:29:00.000-08:00

I've spent the last week joyfully changing my last name to match Steinvic's.

I actually had a colleague tell me that she was disappointed...that my maiden name "carried a lot of power" because it was the name I'd had most of my life, and a name I worked really hard to get back when I went through the divorce from Hell.

She has a point, but I really felt strongly about having the same last name as Steinvic, primarily because I adore him, and also because I love his family and what they stand for. I feel like I have a whole army of people who love and support me. While I know my Mom and her husband love me, too, I am grateful for the amount sincere welcoming and acceptance I've recieved from Steinvic's people. It's amazing.

Actually, I was the last of my last name. With my Dad dead, my sister married, my Mom remarried...well, it's an odd feeling. In one way, given everything in my life, I felt like a survivor, and wearing that last name was a reminder that I could stand on my own and handle anything thrown (hurled, catapulted, shot) at me.

But in another...well, there is something very lonely about being the last one standing. Our unique qualities can make us feel so different that we feel solitary.

And while I believe that as much as possible, I have always had Steinvic's understanding, having his last name makes me feel like I belong. Not in a possessive way, but in an accepting way. I'm one of the gang. I'm in the club.

And it's a damn fine place to be...