Sketches of Thoughts

Movin' Along.

2008-04-26T11:45:00.000-07:00

This Sketches blog has been a nice start. I've enjoyed blogging here, but I'm moving over to WordPress because, well, I like it better. Go on, update your bookmarks and come on over to my new home and see what you think.

Happy Earth Day

2008-04-23T07:42:00.000-07:00

Well, it's a day late to wish you a Happy and Peaceful Earth Day, but so it goes. In honor of the occasion I painted (actually, tried to paint) my nails a trendy green. It actually just looks like I got into a catfight with The Little Mermaid and wound up with her scales on my fingernails, but what can you do. I'm investigating the nail blogs to find an alternative.

Also on an Earth Day vibe, seeing this recycling gone wrong on The Fail Blog made me recall that I actually had a tie dyed version of one of these about 10 years ago. The current me pretty much hates the 10 years ago me, the men's underwear bra may be one good reason why. I never have had tons of self confidence. But on the other side of that, it takes courage to wear mens' briefs on your tas.

Also, I'm working on getting my blogging shit together. One of my birthday goals for the year was to maintain a Flickr account, which four months in is clearly not working. If only I hadn't broken my digital camera it would be better. Months ago I registered a couple of blogs at Word Press to fuel my desire to be a better blogger. I'm not confident that my strategies will yield any tangible result. Once again, oh well.

Something to be happy about: at least it's Wednesday! I'm gettin' on towards the weekend and you know I loves me some weekend.

The funniest thing about swimsuit shopping

2008-04-21T13:37:00.000-07:00

Today I had the day off after our long art festival at work this weekend. For me this marks the beginning of the end of spring, so looking forward to summer I decided to shop for a swimsuit and new flip flops to prep for the upcoming beach season.

I consider myself far from plus-sized but no longer in my middle school tiny days, so this can be a challenge. I weathered okay, though, and had a pretty good time. I wound up with a suit from Ann Taylor Loft that I can't seem to find online.

The best part of this shopping trip was the Raisins Swimwear by Quicksilver. These suits are far from appropriate for me, but I dig the irony. Maybe they didn't check out that episode of South Park.

Five little things.

2008-04-13T05:39:00.000-07:00

Jes over at Aloe-ha! tagged me in this five things meme. I'm game... Here goes.

1. Ja snakker litt Norsk. I studied Norwegian to meet my foreign language requirement in college but can't really remember any of it. We're not all wired for foreign language learning like some people I know.

2. Speaking of foreign language, I'm not all that excited (gasp!) about foreign travel. I know that some of you will cringe reading it, but it's oh so true. And just when I was getting comfortable with the idea of my upcoming Africa trip next year I read something like this.

3. I secretly wish I were a dancer. I love having a background in music and working in the visual arts, but I think dance is amazing. Plus those people are cut. And that would mean I had some sort of athletic ability.

4. I am an obsessive reader. Pete tells me he thinks I get all my information by reading, and it seems true. I read the blogs, the news, and the church bulletin to follow along. And I also like books, but I'm not good at picking them out. Last weekend I read Sideways and it was great. Just a whole day of reading. Mmmmm.

5. I miss Iowa, especially Decorah. It's such a great little place and nice little state. I don't know that we'll ever live there again (there are only a handful of places that could even potentially be in the running given the job market we'll seek) but I love it all the same. Except they don't have the beach and it snows. That's why my favorite quote is "Folks are about as happy as they make up their mind to be." Be happy with where you are, my friends.

All right out there, let's learn about you. Emily and Sarah, are you guys up for it?

Recently Overheard

2008-04-10T16:22:00.000-07:00

Lesbian church choir member, after coughing and making an error in rehearsal: "Sorry. Hairball."

Unaware choir director: "Well than you shouldn't eat so much cat."

Southern Living.

2008-04-10T16:11:00.001-07:00

Every once in a while, I seem to go on and on about now I enjoy living in the South. You know, the charm and hospitality, the warm weather, fried chicken and the bourbon. There's more to it than that, but you get the idea.

I had another day where I valued my Midwesterner-turned-Southern-charmer personality. I was standing in a group of people, many native Southerners, who complained about a group of people from "Up North." It seemed as though they didn't realize their was a Yankee among them.

Now, I'm not about to whistle Dixie and fly the confederate flag but I was astonished that I was passable. Unbelievable, y'all. Guess I'd better go mash the mint for my julep.

Sigh. Government.

2008-03-28T13:24:00.000-07:00

Several years ago I worked for our state's art agency, the Florida Department of State, Division of Cultural Affairs. This year the legislature promises to dramatically cut allocations to the Division's grant programs. There are lots of agencies that will be feeling the cuts. Yikes. This irks me, of course.

But at least the Bring Your Guns to Work Bill passed the House. Boy, that makes me feel at ease.

So I wrote my dad, one of my favorite political confidants to complain. He wrote back "Remember we have Steve King as our congressman so we know what awful government can really mean."

Point well taken, Dad.

Now we're cooking with gas.

2008-03-26T05:17:00.000-07:00

Utility crisis averted: it was just a burned out pilot light. An old rental stove = prone to problems. You should have seen the disgusting mess underneath the stove top when the utility guy opened it up to check the pilot lights. Scary. It was so gross I couldn't even bring myself to address it. Maybe one of these days.

Subject to change.

2008-03-24T16:53:00.000-07:00

Tonight I made a good plan, and was executing it with precision. Came home, met a friend to walk the pups (or crazed beasts, as they can be prone to act), cleaned up a bit, got ready to go to Pete's African ensemble contest. Except I smelled gas in the kitchen, so I ended up going back to work to get my cell phone off the desk (where I left it, I was so excited about that walk!) so I could call the City Utilities people. Now I'm sitting on the couch while Pete plays away on the African instruments. Even my best laid plans sometimes don't work out. And wish me luck on the gas issue.

Home Improvement Update.

2008-03-15T13:25:00.000-07:00

Pete is doing an absolutely masterful painting job on our red hall way. I am contributing by conducting an Internet search for the perfect bedroom curtains. I think we can tell who got the short end of this stick. Thanks, KP.

Getting rid of the infectious disease.

2008-03-15T11:34:00.001-07:00

We moved into a new place somewhere in the space of two-four weeks ago. Slowly we've been painting this place, getting our shit into order and making the place our own. (More precisely speaking, our rental place, not technically our own place. But whatever.) This process has been somewhat painstaking, especially considering that I've been sick both with mono and the flu in those same two-four weeks. Gross. But I'm telling you, something had to be done about the colors in this place.

We're talking a cute lil' 30s house in a desirable little neighborhood, very near to where I work and close enough that Pete can ride his bike to work. Original hardwood floors and doorknobs, some original light fixtures, very few outlets because people of that era didn't have flat panel tvs, iPods, and electronics to think about. So not without its problems, but suitable for our needs. Even a little yard for the Ettta.

Pete is in working on a third (or is it fourth?) coat of red in the hallway, and I've just taken a break from painting the floorboards in the kitchen a nice, crispy white to match the light orange we've chosen for the walls. When we rented the place the entire kitchen was covered in a putrid brownish-pink off-white color I can only think to call infectious disease. It's the kind of color you would expect to see in a skeevy government office somewhere, like the place I went to get free birth control in college. Yuck. Everything in the kitchen was painted that color: two doors, each of the little cabinets and all of the hardware, the walls and even the floorboards. I will be so glad when that disgusting color is out of there.

I don't know how people can handle real home improvement projects. Some friends of ours ripped up all their carpeting and put in hardwood. Holy shit. I could never handle a project of that magnitude. Hats of to Aloe gal and her main squeeze, serious weekend warriors. We even saw them in the Home Depot parking lot this morning - no doubt they'll have more improvement tales to tell us when we catch up at a party later today.

Anyway, I'm back to deal with lesser-scale infectious disease paint color crisis. Maybe some before and after photos will follow, which I always elude to on this blog but rarely come up with. You can look forward to it if you want, but don't get your hopes up!

Menstruatin' for a cause.

2008-03-13T11:24:00.001-07:00

Periods with purpose. This concept is a little much for me. Tampax and Always are helping young girls in South Africa have period protection so they can go to school. Everybody's into being involved. Which is great. I'm all for involvement. But menstruatin' for a cause kind of skeeves me out. Kind of like Mike Huckabee on the Tyra show. Skeeve.

For posterity's sake.

2008-02-26T17:05:00.000-08:00

I'm packing up and moving away. Throwing away layers of stuff, making a Goodwill pile and getting ready to go. I'm throwing out an old Marcus News, but wanted to record this little bit, just because.

Via my Grapevine
by Thelma Gravenish
1/10/2008

So much for retiring! There were so many interesting happening that I have to share with you. Richard gave the okay for me to ad lib, so here goes. I received a phone call, Saturday, December 30th inviting me to enjoy the Smith Trio at Marcus Heartland Care Center that afternoon. I called some friends and we were so happy to be there. Stanley Smitih's favorite and only son, Jim, introduced his favorite and only son, Steve, and Steve introduced his favorite and only son, Chris. We were so pleased as Jim played the sax and warbled old favorites. Steve tickled the ivories and Chris kept them on the beat with teh drums. They had a room full of residents and visitors who enjoyed songs like "I Left My Heart in San Fransisco, "Blue Moon," "Harvest Moon," "Iowa Corn Song" etc. They cut loose with "Skirts and my feet said "Go, go, go" by knees said "No, No." It brought memories ... I thanked Jim for calling me and chatted with Steve and Linda and Chris and his wife... It was a memorable afternoon.

Back to "normal."

2008-02-25T06:21:00.000-08:00

Hurrah for normalcy! I'm back in the office this morning, for the first time in two weeks for an actual week of work. That sickness shit really sidelined me. So this week there's a gallery opening plus our move to the new house. So normal is a bit of a stretch, but at least closer to normal. Bear with me, it'll be a crazy ride!

Land of ten thousand ballet flats.

2008-02-23T06:58:00.001-08:00

Went on a nice walk this morning with my dad and came home to get dressed in my official uniform: jeans, white t-shirt, cute necklace, jacket and shoes. My closet has accumulated a lot of ballet flats - I've basically given up on heels after my sprained ankle a few weeks ago.

I had a hard time choosing, because there are so many. I have a new brown leather pair (finally!) but it's been too wet. I have a clear vinyl pair gifted by my now-London living pal Allie, the requisite black Audrey Hepburn-esque pair, and this springy new printed pair on sale this week at Target. You can buy them here.

The nice thing about having a go-to outfit, and this one's a little classic with a tiny funky twist. I always feel good when I wear this type of thing. A little lip gloss and I'm set!

One more, once.

2008-02-22T21:51:00.001-08:00

I've just walked back from across the street for the last time on a Saturday night. For nearly three years we've lived directly across the street from some of the best friends we've ever known. Many a bottle of scotch, a dog on a leash and a covered dish were shared in the houses on this little road. By this time next week we'll be in a new place. It's not so far, but also not so near to the lifestyle we've enjoyed since May 2005.

I hope to have some pictures to share. I'm sure they'll be more fun, tales of adventures at the beach and pizza and beer and other such fun. But I won't deny that it will probably be different somehow. But no need to get sentimental.

It's not like I don't have anything to think about. I've got to figure out how to ready myself and the new place for St. Patrick's Day, beach season and dinner guests. I guess I'd better get started. It'll be worth it, even if it takes effort involving a car and a designated driver rather than a hobble across the road in the rain. At least I can count on this: I know it'll be fun.

Disoriented.

2008-02-18T15:48:00.001-08:00

February has been interesting. So far this month I've dealt with a sprained ankle, had in-laws visit for the first time, worked on major projects at work (right, right, I won't mention too much about work since it doesn't belong on this blog), rented a new house, fought off some crazy insane virus that had me home sick for an ENTIRE WEEK, lost four pounds on account of the crazy insane virus, worked from the comfort of my bed and prepared for a visit from my parents.

Still to come: visit from the parents, move to the new house (this I have not really planned at all, eeee gawds), major projects and a gallery opening at work, tie up loose ends at the current house. Oh man.

I feel a little like I am wandering through my life disoriented and out of control. I've spent most of the past week in bed, working occasionally but mostly sleeping. I know I'm usually kind of messy, but I manage to at least act like I have it together. Well, largely because I do have it together for the most part. Here's hoping it won't take me long to get it together this time.

On the banks of the Mighty Kish.

2008-02-15T11:27:00.000-08:00

That tragedy yesterday at NIU is really something awful. I hope I never come close to that kind of tragedy. My brother and sister-in-law are Huskies and both attended class in that lecture hall before graduating several years ago. You shouldn't die for going to class, to learn or to teach. Sad, sad, sad.

This is getting out of hand.

2008-02-13T11:25:00.000-08:00

I'm home sick --- day three. Talk about boring. I've been working on a few work things but largely have been sleeping until about 2 pm. My in-laws and been in town so I've tried to rally for dinner but have certainly not been mu usual tour-guide self. I don't even feel like eating that much. There's a good way to know things are not normal.

At least I've been keeping entertained with Facebook and finding blogs to keep up with. What I want to keep up with is work: my folks are coming next week and I'm supposed to have next Thursday and Friday off to hang with them. Plus the move the following weekend.

Oh geez. Seems like things *might not go as planned* and you know that's hard for me.

I can hardly wait...

2008-02-12T05:21:00.000-08:00

...until Etta's new collar arrives in the mail!

I ordered it from Sunny Rising Leather shop on Etsy.

I-O-Way

2008-02-11T05:27:00.000-08:00

YOU GREW UP IN RURAL IOWA IF…… I get this survey from time to time, and for all you non-Iowans out there, I'm going to translate. Enjoy!

You know how to polka but never tried it sober.... True. Some of the finest drunk polka-ing I've done was at my brother-in-laws wedding. I only polkaed sober at my own wedding because I was busy and only had one drink all night. I'm the hostess with the mostess, what can I say?

You know what knee-high by the Fourth of July means. This refers to the height of corn. If it's as tall as the farmer's knee by the Fourth of July you're basically good to go. If not, you might hope for hail and be glad you bought crop insurance
from my dad. One thing about this system, though, what about the really short (ortall) farmer?

You know it is traditional for the bride and groom to go bar hopping between the wedding and the reception. Many weddings are at weird times of day, like 1 or 2 pm. After the wedding the bride, groom and wedding party will disappear and keep you waiting (sometimes for hours) while they get plowed.

You know the difference between 'Green' and 'Red' farm machinery, and would fight with your friends on the playground over which was better! Green = John Deere, Red = International. I wasn't even a farm kid but was in the green party because my great-grandpa designed engine parts for John Deere. We're talking serious brand loyalty here, people.

You buy Christmas presents at Farm & Fleet or Tractor Supply. This one is actually kind of dumb. Farm & Fleet is like Home Depot for an agricultural community. But since I grew up in the middle of nowhere you'd have to drive hours to get to one.

You spent more on beer and liquor than you did on food at your wedding. Right again. That's the cost of having a good time, and a caterer that is less expensive. When I first moved to the South and went to a few weddings, I was astonished with their luxury. I had a badass party with lots of booze, pretty flowers and really rad music, and it cost a pittance compared to other celebrations. God bless the middle of nowhere.

You have ever tried to get your city cousins to pee on the electric fence. I have heard about roadtripping idiots doing this. Duh.

You or someone you know was a 'Bean/Sugar Queen' at the county fair. I personally prefer the Beef Queen or Pork Queen crown. I find those far more ironic. This from one little beauty queen, I was little Miss Marcus 1987.

You know that 'combine' is a noun.
We're not talking cum-bIIIne, like mixing ingredients, we're talking COM-bine, like the farm implement.

You let your older siblings talk you into putting your tongue on a steel post in the middle of winter. You don't need to be from Iowa to get this one, you only need to have watched a Christmas story.

You think Lutheran and Catholic are THE major religions. I don't think there are any other religions practiced in Marcus, Iowa. I know a lot of people who don't mind which "religion" their kids pick, as long as it's Christianity.

You know that 'creek' rhymes with 'pick'. I had always wished I lived in the country where I could wade in a creek/crick.

Football schedules, hunting season and harvest are all taken into consideration before wedding dates are set. Of course they are! People who schedule weddings during the wrong weekends are renown for their idiocy.

A Friday night date is getting a six-pack and taking your girl friend shining for deer. Since I wasn't exactly getting laid in high school, this wasn't me, but I hung out with people who would have someone buy them beer, go out to a gravel road and fuck like bunnies. Romantic, right?

There was at least one kid in your class who had to help milk cows in the morning... phew. Also, at my dad's office they have a candle called the Shit Candle. It gets lit whenever somebody comes in with shit on their boots. Seriously, knobbers, get it together. It ain't right to go somewhere smellin' like feces. It's not even like that at the nursing home.

You have driven your car on a lake. Walking on frozen ice is enough for me. I don't live on the edge enough to drive a car out there.

You can make sense of 'upnort'. More effective when said "Up nort dere, yaaaa." That translates to "Up North There."

At every wedding reception you have ever been to the hokey pokey and the chicken dance have been played. Gross but true, except for my own wedding and a few select others.

Your definition of a small town is one that only has one bar.
Right again. My lil' town has a grocery store, one of only three or so in the county. But we have a Pizza Ranch with beer and at least four bars. Now that's country livin'.

The local gas station sells live bait. Not in my town, but you don't have to go upnort there too far.

At least twice a year some part of your home doubles as a meat processing plant. Slaughter parties are a big deal for people. My husband speaks fondly of this tradition. He and his parents were talking just the other day about what a shame it is that one of the cousins is pregnant and won't be able to fully participate in the drinking portion of the ritual this winter. Darn. Or to speak Iowa, deeern.

Pop is the only name for soda. I should start calling it pop again. It's an easy and quick way to identify a Midwesterner.

Whoops.

2008-02-07T17:20:00.000-08:00

One time, my car was in the driveway, but the emergency brake wasn't on. It rolled across the street (which I should add is kind of busy) and into our friends' yard. According to their report, they looked out the window and saw my car rolling across the street. They laughed, knowing that the little ditch in the yard would stop the car. Then they left it there, figuring we'd get it eventually. And, they were right. We found it just by glancing out the kitchen window. This story makes me laugh every time I: a) get in my car, b) look out the kitchen window or c) drive home. The while the moral to the story is - whoops, there's another moral to this story. And that's man, I'll miss this house and these neighbors. Luckily I'll still have a car that can take me back to this old 'hood and giggle driving by. And when that can't be done, well, at least I'll still I'll still have the car. That'll make me giggle, too.

Velveeta and going green.

2008-02-04T16:57:00.000-08:00

We've just finished a supper of shrimp and cheese grits. How perfectly Southern, right? While that's charming, it's not what I'm getting at with his post. I find myself increasingly interested in going green, and today Velveeta was just the medium for my message.

We're also getting ready to move to a new place, so I'm in serious conservation mode. I'd rather not take hugely expensive trips to the grocery store. I'd rather bide my time and cash for cute home furnishings for the new place. So I'm working with what I've got.

Today's dinner - which was really good, cheese grits (using that Velveeta mixed with cream cheese, one magic ingredient plus Velveeta) and shrimp from the freezer - didn't require a single trip to the grocery store. Admittedly this is a baby going green step, but hey, you gotta start somewhere.

So here's to Velveeta, or whatever you've got sitting around that needs to be used. Up tomorrow: a quinoa salad kit that's been hanging out in our cabinets for months.

Irony

2008-01-24T19:48:00.000-08:00

Spotted at an Arby's drive-thru: a "Stop Heart Disease" license plate.

Google it if you are dying to see an image.

2008-01-19T09:48:00.001-08:00

I'll never be a true Southerner, give my Yankee heritage, but I can see how folks can get attracted to the South. Last night at work we opened a new show in the Gallery, and when we do I somehow go into full-fledged hospitality mode. This isn't about work, of course, since I have no interest in being dooced. It's about how the place you live can change the way you see things a little bit.

My observation about the South is that people are enthralled with relationships. All the people seem to be connected, and if you can get connected by golly you can be a part of things, too. Well, kind of. I love to remember what people drink at those openings, and take care of them as best I can. I can drip with charm and Southern hospitality on the porch and speak authoritatively on the subject matter and the business once inside. That's kind of a fun thing.

People here want you to be taken care of. And they expect the same in return. It's an interesting cycle, one that's been serving people in this area well for as long as anyone can remember. Or so it seems.

In conjunction with one of my 2008 goals --- read more books --- I'm enjoying a fine Southern saga about a Savannah divorcee tied up in a murder mystery. This is not a book that could even make it past Oprah's mail opener let alone make it to her book club, but it's kind of fun. I had just finished Eat, Pray, Love, which was a nice little travel dialogue but needed something mindless. The current read (forgettable enough that I don't know the title or the author!) isn't full of incredible content, but I do love how I can practically hear the sweetness in the voices of those Southern belles as they discuss antiques and order lattes.

So, this post is basically pointless, except to say long live Southern hospitality and charm. And God bless the fact that it doesn't snow here.

Friday january 4

2008-01-04T22:09:00.000-08:00

Today I went to a retirement party. Can you imagine being done with work? Forever, for good? I can not. Sometime it will be my reality, but not for many years.

So, here's today's Friday's feast:
Appetizer
When was the last time you received a surprise in the mail, and what was it?
Hmmm, a beautiful cashmere scarf from my brother and sister in law for Christmas. It is perfect in every way.

Soup
If you could have a summer and/or winter home, where would you want it to be?
Summer: Traverse City, Michigan, Winter: St. George Island, Fl

Salad
Pick one: pineapple, orange, banana, apple, cherry.
Fresh pineapple, clementine orange, banana laffy taffy, carmel apple and cherry life savers. How about that??

Main Course
Describe the nicest piece of clothing that you own.
A cashmere sweater from Harrod's bought for way too much money. But it is beautiful. And also a few Norweigan sweaters. I am a little bohemian, did you know? And a new pashmina! Oooh, I have nice things.

Dessert
If you could forget one whole day from your life, which day would you choose to wipe from your memory?
Sometime last May. Who wants to think about crappy days, anyway? That's weird.

Where the tall corn grows.

2008-01-03T06:04:00.001-08:00

Go get 'em, Iowa. There's been so much excitement about the caucuses this year, and I couldn't be happier. P. and I were discussing it last night - and he wondered why? why? why? is everyone so excited? I said I thought it was because um, NEVER HAS AMERICA BEEN SO EXCITED TO CHOOSE SOMEBODY NEW. Altneratively, never have we had a president so bad. God bless democracy.

My Iowa pride is brimming today. For all the bitching I did about living there and growing up there, I even surprise myself. Ah, nonsense. I have always been a proud Iowan. How can you not be proud of the state that was responsible for the man who invented sliced bread. And Merredith Wilson. The guitar player from The Killers is an Iowa, too. Ryan Kisor of Jazz at Lincoln Center is an Iowan. There are plenty of others, but I needn't get too happy with the hyperlinks.

While many don't understand why Iowans get to have the first go at choosing America's ultimate public servant, I for one am glad. These are people who have preserved their Century Farms, their original set of Pyrex bowls from the '50s, and are still wearing their '70s fashions (if their size hasn't chaged). These are the folks who have the ingenuity to profit from ethanol. They're not dumb. Why not give them the first go?

I'm glad Jill Biden met with Dorothy and Charlotte at the Family Table in LeMars. (Not to be outdone, McCain's going to appear at the Blue Bunny Ice Cream Parlor today. Yum.) Bill Clinton was in Decorah, where I went to college. And Barack was in Harlan. These Iowans got to see all these candidates up close and personal, while I have to rely on their blogs. They deserve to be making a decision, and I hope I agree with their judgement. I think I trust their judgement -it served me well for the first 23 years (or so) of my life.

Go on, Iowa. Enjoy your 15 minutes. Tomorrow you'll be yesterday's news, today you're incredibly important. Go on, make me proud to be from I-o-way.

Friday Feast for Sunday Brunch

2007-12-30T07:44:00.001-08:00

Appetizer
Name 2 things you would like to accomplish in 2008.

Make plans. Really, I don't make many plans. With friends, with family, for my life. So, make plans.
Be bold.

Soup
With which cartoon character do you share personality traits?

Having always preferred CNN to cartoons, this is a hard one for me. Maybe Peppermint Patty from Peanuts.

Salad
What time of day (or night) were you born?

Morning. Early riser, always.

Main Course
Tell us something special about your hometown.

I had a bridal shower there and wrote 427 thank you notes. 1,000 people live there, so 427 is pretty much the ladies.

Dessert
If you could receive a letter from anyone in the world, who would you want to get one from?

God. It might help me make those plans. But if the person must be a mortal, I'd choose Pete.

Get the scoop on Friday's Feast here.

2007-12-30T07:02:00.000-08:00

Nothing makes me stop in my tracks like Barber's Adagio for Strings. I've been playing on P's new MacBook for a while this morning listening to the CBS Sunday Morning Show. (One of my favorite lazy Sunday Morning activities.) I'm skipping my usual church singing today in favor of a little serious relaxation and alone time, which I seem to be needing after the close of the Holiday extravaganza at work. Anyway, back to Adagio for Strings.

Those year-in-review-who-has-died montages are some of my favorite things of the time between Christmas and New Year's. They honor people like Max Roach, Oscar Peterson, Lady Bird Johnson, Beverly Sills, Kurt Vonnegut and others. Some will be missed; others like Jerry Falwell won't be missed by me, but it's a free country after all. I was really only half paying attention until Adagio for Strings came on with a story about WWII vets. I'm glad I looked up from my blog-reading to watch the tribute, hail and farewell to all.

Merry Christmas. And may your New Year's dreams come true.

2007-12-24T07:36:00.000-08:00

Well, it's Christmas Eve. One of my favorite days of the year. I love it when Nat King Cole sings about finding it hard to sleep tonight and having it actually be tonight. I love it when the newspaper prints the letter to Virginia. (Ignore those naysayers in the comments, I say.) I love singing in the church choir, like I will two times today, and prepping the prime rib for the big dinner tomorrow.

I love the colored lights on my Christmas tree, and driving by all the other homes with Christmas trees burning brightly in the windows. I love the treats, the macaroons and the peppermint bark and the butter brickle. Oh, and the marshmallows dipped in caramel and rolled in rice crisp cereal. Plus peanut butter blossoms, and ice cream. And candy canes, and chocolate. I think you get the idea.

And the music, the good and beautiful music, sacred at church, secular in the car and sometimes at home, my dad playing with the phone on the piano while I listen rapt on the other end. I love that on Christmas Eve I'll turn on the radio to the station with the Christmas music, and let it play all night long, unlike any other night of the year.

We'll wake up, make some coffee and enjoy the quiet and solitude. There are some presents to open, and stockings. Mmm, stockings. Arguably my favorite part of the presents ritual. They'll be some surprises, I'm betting. I'm looking forward to that part, too. There's just so much to enjoy. Dinner with the neighbors, apple cider, champagne, wine, cocktails, egg nog. Plus FUN!

If you're celebrating the birth of the Savior, or enjoying the magic of Christmas, or renewing your faith in the spirit of Santa and Christmas, or whether you're doing nothing at all, I hope you enjoy it. Peace on Earth, goodwill towards men, and all that stuff.

Merry Christmas!

Written while exhausted. On the way to bed.

2007-12-15T21:08:00.000-08:00

Earlier tonight a friend who is moving abroad gave me a gift for taking care of a few things while she visited London this month. It's a beautiful double-walled ceramic cup, with no handle and perfect for coffee or tea. She said she thought long and hard about what to bring, and she finally settled on this modern treat because it somehow seemed right. She said she hoped I didn't mind the sentiment.

And I don't. In fact, I'm kind of relishing in it.

There have been some transitions in my life recently, most specifically at work. Things are no better or worse, only different. And that a colleague and friend finds a gift for me that conveys comfort and warmth is a good feeling for me. Good luck, my friend. You'll be great.

Now that things are settling down a bit, I'm hoping to get my house in shape for Christmas! I'm making it a goal to post a few photos of our Christmas digs once I complete a few decorating tasks, and complete four or five less pleasant loads of laundry. Oooh, and holiday treat making. I have a few days off work this week, Monday and Tuesday... So if you're lucky I'll have some things to share. In the even that you're unlucky, you'll just have to hold out for an update later. Either way it'll be fun.

10 days til Christmas. y'all! Let the fun begin.

Doggone famous.

2007-12-11T15:46:00.000-08:00

Etta was featured a couple of weeks back on the Daily Grownup Puppy. Ain't she sweet?

Three things.

2007-12-10T05:46:00.000-08:00

I've not been blogging much lately. I feel like I haven't done much of anything at all, aside from work. And I don't talk about work on my blog. So, sorry I'm out of touch. That's thing #1.

Thing #2: Celebrations. This Saturday night Pete and I went out for dinner at a fave place. This place has two meeting rooms, and both were full of men in suits and women in sparkly tops. They were laughing and cheering and celebrating and singing Christmas carols. That's one of the things I like best about this time of year: the celebrating. We had done some celebrating of our own the night before, with a superfun birthday party for two friends (who are brothers, whose birthdays are Dec. 7 and 8 respectively). Plus the usual end-of-the-semester happiness and a few propers from my workplace. But we don't talk about that here, remember?

As for the third thing, I was reading a friend's MySpace survey today and it asked the question "have you ever seen the Northern Lights?". I have seen the Northern Lights, and when I think of it I have a warm, happy feeling. It was more than six years ago, when I was a senior in college. Just weeks after 9/11 happened and the other four women I was living with in a rental house had gathered friends who had nowhere else to go when our little campus was evacuated from a bomb threat. Well, anyway, later that fall we saw the Northern Lights. A few of us gathered in the frosty cold, outside this house, outside Decorah, and saw the beautiful colors in the sky. It makes me glad for being alive, just thinking of the Northern Lights, and the place where I saw them, and all that happened in my life before and after that moment. So that's the third thing.

Happy Monday.

News you can use. Well, maybe.

2007-11-13T18:07:00.000-08:00

"Women with curvy figures are likely to be brighter than waif-like counterparts and may well produce more intelligent offspring, a US study suggests." It may not be the most newsworthy thing I've heard all day, but this article (at least the first couple of paragraphs) is music to my ears. Obviously I haven't checked out the part about the smarter offspring, but I do think I'm at least as bright as average.

Because. Just Because.

2007-11-08T16:34:00.000-08:00

Just because you think you're so pretty
Just because you think you're so hot
Just because you think you've got something
That nobody else has got
You cause me to spend all my money
You laugh and call me old Santa Claus
I'm tell you, baby, I'm through with you
Because, just because.

There is absolutely no reason I've been singing these polka lyrics all day long. Except that it's a fun polka. Polka was a nightmare to me as a child. I was never so keen on riding in the back of a pickup truck during the The Fair while all the cooler kids sat on the curb and collected candy. But when I met my husband I came to terms with my polka past. In fact, after our wedding we went to the ol' hometown for a wedding reception, and instead of a honeymoon, we played in a polka band with my dad and grandpa. Maybe it's weird. But I don't care. I think it's kind of special and fun. Because, just because.

Tragedy! Well, not really.

2007-11-06T06:11:00.000-08:00

This morning while out walking with Pete and Etta I had an undeniable hankering for Honey Nut Cheerios and a chocolate donut. These are not cravings I have often, and since I'm on the late Christmas tree decorating crew today I decided to head to Publix to indulge.

I remembered everything on the list, and the bakery guy even picked out the perfect donut, covered in beautiful chocolate. Mmmmm. I could hardly wait to the get out the door and home to that wonderful tasty morsel.

Imagine the lock of shock, horror and surprise that must have been on my face when the bagger turned the chocolate donut in its plastic container perpendicular to the bagging surface, compromising tasty chocolate. Horror of horrors!

This turned out to be about the worst thing about my Tuesday, which makes it not such a bad day at all.

It

2007-11-02T19:11:00.001-07:00

Mission Not Accomplished and Political Thoughts.

2007-11-02T05:29:00.001-07:00

I had planned to blog every day in November. Already I've failed! But yesterday was a busy day, so I'm going to let go of the guilt and just blog daily the rest of the month.

This morning I'm enjoying a moment of relaxation. And for me, relaxation often means one of a few things, including NEWS.

I've been readying and catching up on news on my favorite sites. I read what our prez-wanna-bes are up to in my homestate this weekend. Now that I am a resident of the fourth most populous state in the union, I can't help but be a little agitated that I don't have the kind of access to the candidates that the residents of Pocahontas, IA do.

Allow me to explain as briefly as I know how: the National Democratic Party is pissed that Florida moved up its primary because we all know Iowa, New Hampshire and South Carolina should be calling the shots, and so the NDP basically made all the candidates swear they wouldn't do any campaigning here in the Sunshine State. (If you want you can read about it here. I agree that the traditional caucuses and primaries are important, but boy would I like a say in choosing the candidate for President. I mean, I know which party I'll likely be voting for, and they could even run Alf and I'd vote for him. Nevertheless I fancy myself as an engaged citizen and am agitated at the slighting.

So take this National Democratic Party: stop calling me and asking for cash (which I lack anyway, and wouldn't probably give to you even if I had more) if you think the 210 electoral votes from my state are so unimportant you don't want folks like me to be involved in the preliminary decision-making. Now how's that for news and relaxation?

In which I create a post in a post in a post.

2007-10-25T06:34:00.000-07:00

I'm all cuddled up and cozy in my bed, enjoying a morning not at work. It's been an an interesting and fun week, both working and not. As I wrap up my first year at my "new" job, I have a couple of vacation days left to kill, or I'll lose 'em. So I've taken a few days off, and Pete's outta town and so I'm just doing my own thing. Which I don't mind, of course, but it would be better if he were around and we could enjoy some time together.

Soon I'm going to get up and make some bacon, eggs and coffee but before that it's time to materialize on a couple of posts I've been turning over in my head for several days. I like posting to the blog, but I don't find that I'm very timely at it. Just like I have the best intentions to stay in touch with old friends but can never seem to do it. Does that make me a horrible person? I don't think so, but I did forget to send a wedding invitation to my college roommate of two years. Whoops. I suck sometimes.

Anyway,the longer I live in the South, the more I turn into a Midwestern girl turned hybrid Southerner. I've done a number of fairly Southern things to do this week, and I find myself excited about it. These thoughts started swirling in my head the other day when I picked up a tote bag I had monogrammed. I still get excited about seeing my "new" initial (my wedding was more than four years ago) stitched onto things. I know monogramming is a trend coming back with the retro thing, but it seems pretty Southern to me. And while I was on my way to the monogramming place, I stopped at the "historic" Whataburger in Midtown. (Whataburger has been clogging Southern arteries since 1950. Yum.)

I've had a Southern-belle-style melt-down and taken to by bed. I don't find there's anything more Southern than taking to your bed. Also, I've bitched about humidity making my pretty Southern hair look fuzzy, and in the same day bitched about "cold." If you're up North you're surely laughing at the fact that I can find 54 cold, but oh the humidity! Later that day, I did a little community involvement, volunteering at a FSU MANCC entry point. A fine Southern lady, even a hybrid one like me, loves some community involvement.

The entry point was uber engaging. The choreographer, Luciana Achugar, is conducting research and so several community members (oh, and trained dancer with an idea of what they're doing) were asked to participate. I'm always honored when Jen and Lindsay, the staff there, invite me to be a part of things. There are several reasons: first, I can't imagine how I could be at all helpful in somebody's choreographic research, and I can't think of any person less a dancer than me. I guess I love a good dance party, though, and that was just how the entry point wound up, with all the participants dancing around and having a badass time to "Don't Stop Til You Get Enough." Um, awesome.

All Michael Jackson aside, though, participating in the entry point was fascinating. Luciana encouraged each of us to explore the rhythm and ebb and flow already present in our being. To explore moving towards pleasure. To know that our own experience is authentic and important because it's ours, and that no one else will ever fully understand it because it's ours. We talked some about moving past pain to pleasure. And ever since that time I've been contemplating Lindsay's statements about how to move toward pleasure you must experience pain. Work though it, know it and accept it. Hmmm. Maybe that big ol' dramatic Southern meltdown was moving me toward a more authentic experience.

I'd better get some breakfast, boil some coffee and think it over some more.

PS: You can check out Luciana on YouTube, and I'm embedding one excerpt here. We did an exercise similar in the entry point.

Mememememememe.

2007-10-24T12:52:00.001-07:00

I have the afternoon off. I'm going to kill some time. Fear not, an actual post will not be far behind.

1. Are you taller than your best friend?
I'm not taller than anyone.

2. Do you have a favorite type of pen?
A Jim & Steve Smith Insurance red Bic click pen, but those are from a couple of years ago. I'll take one of the blue Smith Insurance Services one, though. Nevertheless, I can't get used to the rebranding.

3. Look at your planner for November 14, what are you doing?
Work, church choir, only one week and until until Thanksgiving, and also only four days until my brother-in-law comes to town for a visit. Hurrah.

4. What color are your toenails usually?
Red.

5. What was the last thing you highlighted?
Statements in grant applications.

6. What color are the curtains in your bedroom?
There are yellow cafe curtains and also white drapes with a yellow floral panel.

7. What color are the seats in your car?
Tan, with lots of spots. The previous owner obviously left the top down during a couple of thunderdouchebags.

8. Have you ever had a black and white cat?
Sure don't.

9. What is the last thing you put a stamp on?
I used a rubber stamp to create texture in a Precious Metal Clay class I'm taking.

10. Do you know anyone who lives in Wyoming?
Uh, no, but my friend Carolyn is from Wyoming. Go Pokes!

11. Why did you withdraw cash from the ATM the last time?
To pay for a painting I'm buying. Been trying to hook up with the artist for days! I'm pretty excited.

12. Who is the last baby that you held?
The Kafumbaby, Joshua.

13. Can you spell well?
I do okay.

14. Do you like Cinnamon toothpaste?
Yes. My Mom and Dad always used CloseUp when I was a child, so I think I'm predisposed to liking it.

16. Pick one: Miami Hurricanes or Florida Gators?
Neither of these is a good choice. The obvious Florida team of choice is Florida State. F-L-O-R-I-D-A, S-T-A-T-E, Florida State, Florida State, Florida State, WOOOOO!

17. Last time you went to Six Flags?
Never been there.

18. Do you have any wallpaper in your house?
No, but there is some coolass wallpaper out there. Wallpaper gets a bad wrap, but I think it's pretty cool. I can hardly wait to hang some in my house, but since I don't own one I'll have to cool it on the clutch, Jack.

19. Closest thing to you that is yellow?
Fiesta bowl holding pretzels.

20. Last person you gave a business card?
A colleague at a grant panel this morning.

21. Who was the last person you wrote a check or money order to?
Rent.

22. Closest framed picture to you?
Any number of the framed family photos hanging on my wall. I have a historic photo montage.

23. Last time you had someone cook for you?
Yesterday.

24. Have you ever felt you weren't good enough?
Daily it seems.

25. How many emails do you get in your inbox daily (excluding spam)?
Ten or so.

26. Last time you received flowers?
After a recent domestic argument.

28. Do you play air guitar?
During the frequent dance parties that happen around here.

29. Has anyone ever proposed to you?
Yes.

30. Do you take anything in your coffee?
Half and half or milk, plus Spelnda or a little flavor.

31. Do you have any Willow Tree figurines?
Uck, no. I am anti-collectable.

32. What was your high school's mascot?
Onward you Eagles, fight on for your fame.

33. Last person you spoke to from high school?
Kathy via email.

34. Last time you used hand sanitizer?
I'm not into that.

35. Would you like to learn to play the drums?
We already have a resident drummer in our house.

36. What color are the blinds in your living room?
White. Blinds, yuck.

38. Last thing you read in the newspaper?
Opinion pages.

39. What was the last pageant or play you attended?
It's been a while, we don't go to theatre events too often.

40. What is the last place you bought pizza from?
Barnaby's Family Inn, delish!

41. Have you ever worn a crown?
Yes. I was Little Miss Marcus 1987 after all.

42. What is the last thing you stapled?
Receipts for reimbursement at work.

43. Did you ever drink clear Pepsi?
Obviously the author of this survey is young. The proper title is Crystal Pepsi. It was a middle school favorite of mine. Even more favored is the Crystal Gravy skit from early '90s SNL fame, but I can't find a video clip of it on the Internets.

44. Are you ticklish?
Sure am.

45. Last time you saw fireworks?
One night I drank some bourbon and lit up some sparklers in my living room. That was fun.

46. Last time you had a Krispy Kreme doughnut?
This morning the grant panelists were treated to Krispy Kremes and coffee. And a treat it was.

47. Who is the last person that left you a message & you actually returned?
I actually return 97% or so of my phone calls. Pete I would guess.

48. Last time you parked under a carport?
Everytime I roll up to my back door. So maybe an hour ago or so.

49. Do you have a black dog?
She's black and white and gross and cute, pretty much is that order.

50. Can you give one reason why David Caruso is allowed to keep acting?
Not really.

51. Are you an aunt or uncle?
My extension of marriage I am aunt to Gus, Beau, Ella, Lucy, Amelia, Hope and Kailey.

52. Who has the prettiest eyes that you know of?
Pete of course. He also has these beautiful eyelashes that are so long they bang into his glasses. He is pretty in the eyes, oh so pretty.

53. Last time you saw a semi truck?
Earlier today on the Parkway.

54. Do you remember Ugly Kid Joe?
Thankfully not really.

55. Do you have a little black dress?
I have a number of go-to black dresses.

Do you need a douchebag?

2007-10-21T16:35:00.000-07:00

These days, nothing makes me laugh harder than the word douchebag. Just like Reference.com suggests, I find it funniest when used as an insult. But thanks to the company of my neighbors and a drunken game of cards on Friday night, there are even more laughs ahead!

The cards didn't have much to do with it, actually. Every time we hang out with the neighbors (which is often, since they live directly across the street) something funny happens. This time it was the etymology of douchebag that got us started. The conversation went something like this:

Ms. Neighbor: "You know it's the French word for shower right?"
Mr. Neighbor: "What, douchebag?"
Me: Laughing hysterically already.
Mr. Neighbor: "So then, in French you say 'I'm doing to go take a douchebag?' Or, I really need a douchebag. Today I took a douchebag."
Me: Still laughing.
Mr. Neighbor: "Also, do you go to a bridal douchebag? Or a baby douchebag? Or take an umbrella when there's a chance of a thunder douchebag?"
Ms. Neighbor: Sighs. Laughs.
Me: Still laughing.

And Saturday? When my friend told me she had to go to a bridal shower? That was all I needed. I laughed some more. And I suspect I will be for some time - a veritable douchebag of giggles and laughter will rain down upon those who encounter me whenever I hear or say the word shower. Hurrah for etymology.

Magic Ingredients

2007-10-17T05:58:00.000-07:00

Want to make any meal or snack yum-tastic? Don't care much about your heart health, the fit of your pants or counting your fat grams for the day? Try out my parents' five magic ingredients theory.

Sitting at a restaurant, admiring that tasty pasta sauce? Chances are it contains one of the five. How about that delicious apple "salad"? Or even a good ol' Iowa-style casserole? Almost ceraintly at least one found there. What tops that perfect tasty taco? You guessed it, one of the magic five.

What are they? Okay, here we go: heavy whipping cream, butter, mayonaise, cream cheese and sour cream. I encourage you to go whole-hog sometimes, with the full fat varities of the five, such as the delicious seasonal favorite, pumpkin cream cheese, from my fave bagel place. Other times, like with that conservative homemade health-nut fish taco? The reduced fat version'll be just fine.

Either way, dear reader, I encourage you to live life on the luxurious side. Get to know your fabulous, magical five ingredients, and you'll be on your way to Delicious City. Happy Magic Five Ingredients Posting Day!

What's up in the blogosphere?

2007-10-15T14:39:00.000-07:00

Seems like a weird blog day. A few of my usual reads have some weird shit goin' on. Dooce has an ambiguous post about her terrible weekend and Naked Jen, my favorite hippie-herbal tea-making-marathon-running-Santa-Cruz-blogger has a husband who has announced he's over being married to her.

If all is so topsy-turvy in blog-o-land, it seems strange that everything here is pretty much A-OK.

Things have been good, fun at work, productive at work, making progress on lots of stuff in both my professional and personal lives. Everyday I feel like I'm getting a little closer to being the person I want to be. Not without setbacks, of course, but so far no huge devastation.

Since my last post I have discovered the joy of the drink that is cheap (but still tasty) bourbon. I have sold thousands of dollars worth of art and had some pretty good days with my husband and doggie now that the weather is a little bit cooler.

I keep thinking of things to blog about, but never actually sit down to come through on the posts. I'm going to try to improve on that, because the world's a funny place. But for now I'm just going to keep on hoping that nothing crazy is going to explode into this blogger's universe.

TGIF

2007-09-21T06:07:00.000-07:00

For days I've been thinking over a clever Thank-God-It's-Fall post. But the more I thought about it, the more Fs there are to like. Thank-God-It's-Friday is always an obvious choice. But what about a few more of these favorites?

Fall. My favorite time of year. The time of year I met my husband for the first time. Well, basically the first time. We'd been in the same place at the same time plenty of times before that but never really knew it. While it's not yet cool enough for my liking, at least the humidity is under 90%.

Fattening. Like the best dessert The Neighbors made last night. S'more's bars are a delicious Fall Fattening treat. Double Fs. Anyway, if you're going to go, go all out I say.

Alternatively, Fitness. Last week when I went to the doctor and they weighed me I calculated using the BMI scale that I am, get this, obese. Hmmm. Time to get serious about health. But, as Kigozi Petero pointed out, standardized tests classify him as stupid, and if you know him you know that's not true. So I've decided to get fit in preparation for the annual Trot. Fitness not Fanaticism. Sounds fine to me.

Fashion on Flickr. These wardrobe_remix photos are really Fun.

Fun. I plan to have some this weekend.

What the F? There are so many great choices. Whatever your choice F might be, have a great F'in day.

For your consideration: my thoughts on a recent news article.

2007-09-09T18:49:00.000-07:00

I am a huge fan of getting my news online. Keepin' tabs on Britney is a pleasant media diversion to real life. Reading blogs is now one of my favorite ways to pass time. So why was I so irritated when I read this article on my former daily paper's site? You'd think the topic of student loans and the realization of the Dream would be something I'd welcome a report on.

Turns out I hate it. The article, especially the comments on
this page, are repulsive. The report strikes me as inflammatory and sensational. I will be the first to admit that education comes at a price (or several prices, when you think about it) but it remains a privilege. For me, higher education has provided opportunities for reflection, self-study, learning and a start on a path.

Where has the path led? To my husband speaking Luganda to a friend and colleague on the phone just now. To a job I enjoy in supporting an artistic discipline I didn't realize I had such a passion for. To a fork in the road, coming at some point soon, that will lead my husband to Africa once again while I remain stateside. (Brief aside: I might enjoy going for a short time. A month? A couple of weeks? Maybe a bit. I digress.) To uncertainty in when we will own a home, where we will own it and when we might start a family. The path has led to a lot more questions than answers at this moment, and while unsettling I have decided this is the way of my life for now, and I should be grateful.

The authors of the article I've mentioned found Iowans who seemed to regret that their paths came with such high prices. After several days' reflection and thought, I've decided it's a price I'm willing to pay. Some loans will have to be repaid, some preconceived notions and assumptions revisited. But this is nothing to be feared. This is just the way it is.

Not my dream cream.

2007-08-27T05:41:00.000-07:00

Adios, substandard sweetened-with-Splenda International Delight Hazelnut Coffee Creamer quart-sized container. You have been a tasty addition to my coffee. You have helped some dollars by DIY-in' it rather than supporting my little local coffee shop. But your design sucks. Your Splendaness is sticky and glues the lid shut. When I gently open your mouth in the morning, the bottle mists my face, glasses, counter, kitchen with your hazelnutty goodness. Good luck with your product redesign; maybe we'll catch up again in the future 'cause you do taste great. But for now, I think we'll have to start seeing other people.

Monday's Political Update

2007-08-27T05:23:00.000-07:00

When I take days off from work, it seems the universe rewards me by dropping the ax on some of my least favorite politicos. First, Karl Rove announced his resignation on a day off, now Alberto Gonzalez follows suit! How many days must I take off for the President to announce his departure?

Oh, and remember this post about my Idol 2008 campaign concept? I think it's possible that Barack Obama may be my front runner, at least for now. He's picking the right tunes and he's got stage presence, y'all. My sources tell me his visit to The Armpit of Florida was pretty rad. Check out the photos here.

Setting the bar low. Too low.

2007-08-07T15:06:00.000-07:00

Me to camper: "How was your dentist appointment?"
Camper to me: "Fine, only two more cavities. Not bad, eh?

Camper extends gigantic 7-Eleven cup: "Mom was so excited she got me an LARGE orange soda."

On Christmas Music.

2007-08-06T13:50:00.000-07:00

Earlier today I was reading a MySpace bulletin post. Those damned survey things are a bit like fried chicken to me, pure magic. Energy for the day. And while I seem to have completed each and every survey in its entirety, there are still a few questions that trip me up. Today's crazy tripped-up question: what is your favorite Christmas song?

My immediate response: ANYTHING. THAT. IS. NOT. FELIZ NAVIDAD. Holy shit, I cannot take that Christmas song.

With a background in music, you're always asked these strange questions and expected to answer respectably. For example, you go to a wedding and (hypothetically speaking) the groom's cousin-in-law sings a Shania Twain duet with the bride's sister's seeing eye dog's trainer. At the reception, four vodka tonics into things someone asks you, "What did you think of the music at the ceremony?" "It was touching," you respond, tactfully dodging any actual musical critique, because if critical musical thought was going to come into play you would need a barf bag. Anyway, that's about how I feel about Christmas music.

After two retail jobs last Christmas season, I'm looking forward to only one job where I have to live, eat and breathe shitty versions of Sleigh Ride (incidentally one of my favorite Christmas songs) this year. I've quit the second job, where the music may have been marginally better. But only marginally, mind you. 24/7 Christmas music would be enough to make anyone crazy.

Maybe I give those MySpace survey questions too much though. No need to think of Christmas songs today... To the tune of Santa Claus Comes Tonight: Pass me another ice cold beer and light the grill, it's August for heaven's sake.

But I feel glad to be alive.

2007-08-04T07:40:00.000-07:00

Me: "My ears are ringing."
P: "Besides that, how do you feel?"
Me: "Well, I have a headache. And I can't breathe. And then there's the ears ringing. But mostly I feel glad to be alive."

Fighting with a cold. Two weeks till vacation. Ahhhhhhh.

Wish I Was There.

2007-07-26T07:50:00.001-07:00

I love my life and the things I do, but I get nostalgic about Iowa this time of year. The sweet corn is tasty, Nordic Fest is gearing up, the Marcus Fair is only weeks away. In my earlier years I'd have been stoked about back-to-school shopping, football cheerleading and All-State band auditions. That was a long time ago. These days I wish I was rolling across the prarie on my bike enjoying a morning sunrise over the corn.

Summer is in session.

2007-06-28T16:36:00.001-07:00

As I sit down to FINALLY blog, after over a month away from it, I'm in the mood to celebrate the fact that summer pretty much rocks. June was pretty awesome. There has been a family reunion to enjoy, fresh tomatoes from the neighbors, summer camp craziness going on non-stop, a trip to the beach, plenty of hanging out, a new season of medicore TV to enjoy. Oh my goodness, when will it end? Life is good.

But weird. Mercury is in retrograde and some shit is really whacked out. A friend's car got nailed by a drunk driver while it was parked outside of his house. A WWE wrestled killed his wife, Britain has a new prime minister, we have lots to worry about on the Supreme Court. Recently at job #2 a woman returned merchandise that was several years old, was stained by bleach and had the inside tags removed. This is just plain weird to me, but I guess we gotta do what's best for the customer. Wacky whacked out shit.

For normal people this might be fodder for excellent blogging. For me, it's just a couple of lame paragraphs. Nevertheless, I feel compelled to list a few of my favorite things about summer. Here's hoping you can find a few of your own to enjoy with the upcoming holiday week.

Things I love about summer:

Somehow, it's ok to smell funnier than usual.
Speaking of smell, I dig the smell of fresh tomato leaves. Mmmmmm.
Really, really, really smooth legs that aren't dry and cracked.
Sandals.
Summer dresses.
Summer camp.
Summer grilling.
The top down on the car.
Midafternoon thundershowers. We could use more of these.
Vacation. Even though I won't be taking one for weeks.
The attitude of summer in the South. Get through it, by golly, and have a drink.
Sweet corn, though it will never taste as good as it does at home.
Anniversaries, birthdays and parties.

Tyin' one on.

2007-05-28T14:58:00.001-07:00

It's been a busy week, as the time before the Memorial Day weekend often turns out to be. It was especially busy, though, due to the birth of a friend's baby last Wednesday. These special East Africans took good care of my husband while he was in Uganda last summer. So naturally, I feel it necessary to go way above and beyond for the birth of their child. This is the youngest child I've ever met, so naturally it's pretty bitchin' to start with. Joshua was less than 10 hours old when I saw him for the first time. And oh how I love him.

I cooked casseroles. I made them Jello. And peanut butter cookies. I bough baby clothes, found the best deal on unscented wet wipes and diapers in the appropriate sizes. Today I found a little toy and filled the diaper bag with a few little gifts. I even crafted a tied little blankie to take to the lil' tot. The sort of weird part? I liked it. All of it. Lest I get too excited - I managed to be interested in some non-retail components of the entire process. I didn't mind hear about the labor, though I think 10 cm is definiately inadequate to push a little head out. 20 cm sounds more like it. Well, anyway. I'm in no hurry at all, but I think I could get into this at some point.

What will really tip the scales? Seeing the newest member in my husband's family at next month's Idaho outlaw adventure. (Read: immediate family reunion.) In the meantime, pass be a beer, honey. It's Sunday on a holiday weekend.

First beach adventure of the season.

2007-05-15T18:04:00.000-07:00

A couple of weeks ago we went camping. More accurately we drove to the beach in separate cars, P. with one friend and me with his girlfriend after working an event late at work. This was my much anticipated first overnight camping trip ever, not counting a couple of summers roughing it in poorly insulated cabins in locales all across our beautiful county. Anyway, this was supposed to be a fabulous trip and it was. As always, there are just a few little things that didn't exactly go as planned.

I got pulled over for the first time ever. Driving though lil' ole Carrabelle, I got pulled over doing 49 in a 35. If you've ever driven there, I guarantee you were probably moving at least as fast as I was, deep in conversation with my new pal, jammin' the living shit out of some Amy Winehouse. I frantically searched for my insurance card, and couldn't find it anywhere. For those of you who know my family background, you must admit this fact alone is deeply humiliating. Nevertheless, I managed to get off with only a verbal warning and a directive to replace my broken brake light. (Which, by the way, I have not done yet. Maybe tomorrow.)

We got to the little campsite after two wrong turns and forty five minutes searching frantically for our tent amoungst the other 118 as the dudes had not provided the dudettes with a campsite number. Whatever. We finally got there. Couldn't light a campfire, what for the wildfires ravaging our state. Oh well. At least we had the beach to look forward to in the morning.

Mmmm, and what a beach trip it was. Beautiful crystal turquoise water. Scenic Forgotten Coast views. Isolated, not full of people, not concrete like other places in Florida. Fresh seafood at a place Hurricane Dennis was not able to destory, despite his best efforts. And picturesque. See for yourself.

Here's what you see walking along the boardwalk toward the beach:

And then all of a sudden, BAM! You're there:

It was a perfectly lovely day at the beach - since I had to be back to work job number two the entire deal lasted less than 24 hours. Save for the part about the sand fleas, which evidently attack the palest beach-goer in the group. Let me tell you, I got hammered and sadly it was not with Miller Lite in cans. Those bitches bite hard. By Sunday night my neck looked like it was covered in chicken pox, and I thought I might itch my flesh off. Just be sure to sit at least 10 inches off the ground and keep your skin completely covered from March until July, I guess.

Somehow it was still a nice trip, though. You just can't beat 80-degree weather, warm waters, being with a good-sized group of friends and just loving life. Even if pale does mark the spot.

I just don't know.

2007-04-30T13:31:00.000-07:00

I can't decide if I should be offended or supportive of Phat and Fabulous.

Right on sister.

2007-04-29T16:07:00.000-07:00

I could go on for miles and miles and miles and miles, but this lady handles it in a lot cuter way than I could. Tubas instead of bombs. Paint brunshes instead of poverty. Yes indeed.

Ways in which my life resembles an episode of The Wonder Years.

2007-04-18T19:55:00.000-07:00

- Vintage alarm clocks are a desirable commodity.

- I like to listen to the Beach Boys this time of year. (Oh yeah. "When we can say goodnight and staaaaaaaay together...")

- Some of my favorite characters have thick-rimmed glasses.

- Like Kevin, I am typically narrating my life.

- There are lots of '60s lamps.

- Life doesn't always go the way you are expecting, and occasionally really terrible shit happens. But at least we can enjoy the good parts.

- Every once in a while, life is nice and simple.

Oh, snap. We have a local Imus.

2007-04-14T17:34:00.000-07:00

I wish I could link you to a website for our local ABC affiliates new "Phat and Phabulous" plus-size woman mini-makeovers every Friday at 5 PM. I am not stringently opposed to the concept of a makeover, as I love for women to look and feel their best. But I am definitely defying on "Phat and Phabulous." Who thought that up? I think their makeover needs an re branding makeover. Communications and marketing gurus, please hop on this. That would be "Phlipping Phantastic."

I set it on the vibrate setting.

2007-04-13T04:02:00.000-07:00

I don't like waking up to loud noises. Alarms clocks, work on water towers, barking dogs, cars with loud noises on my busy street. None of that pleases me. Often I set my alarm clock to vibrate so that I'll hear that gentle sound and it'll ease me into my day. We set the phone to vibrate last night - and I thought I put it on my side of the bed. I wanted to wake up early to make scones today, so I wanted the phone next to me. When I woke up, I heard a vibrating sound, like a gentle little nudge. I felt around on the bedside table for the phone. Wasn't there. Felt around in the bed. Decided the alarm must not have gone off after all. Was I imagining that vibrating sound? Woke up a few minutes later but still nothing! The third time I heard the vibrating noise I sprung out of bed, dashed into the kitchen and got started on the scones. To hell with the vibrating phone! It was there on the bed somewhere. When I realized it was only 5:30 and the alarm was set for 6:30 I realized something else.

I was waking up the sound of my own NOSE vibrating and wheezing with allergy symptoms! I set my nose to the vibrate setting.

That's funny!

2007-04-11T19:26:00.000-07:00

Seven funny things about my day today:

1. Little Asian man. Big cowboy hat.

2. Art teachers. I love 'em.

3. I had three conversations with co-workers while they were in the bathroom.

4. Etta. She's always a funny thing in my day.

5. I was working 12 hours ago and I just got done working. Actually, I started working 14 hours ago. I'm tired. I don't know how people do this shit for years at a time.

6. A problem under the hood of my car can be temporarily solved with duct tape.

7. Tomorrow I am seriously considering wearing sweat pants to work. At least for a little while.

Exploring life's contradictions.

2007-04-05T17:14:00.000-07:00

Tuesday afternoon I went to our local food coop to buy a Neti Pot to solve the ills of my pollen woes. I decided to buy the Pot when in a desperate attempt to clear my nasal cavaties I actually used a funnel from my KITCHEN to dump saline solution in my nostrils. Well anyway, this post isn't about the Neti Pot. You'll find that on other blogs so no need for me to go into it. But the video of me with the funnel would have been hilarious.

Anyway, I was unloading the groceries that I bought while picking up my homeopathic remedy I couldn't help but consider the contradictions in my life. For example, consider the following:

I am literally flushing the snot out with gentle salt water so that I can spray the ever-lovin'-shit out of some generic Flonase into my schnoz.

I bought my groceries at the food coop but had already been to Sam's Club to buy toilet paper for work.

And I bought tofu and granola. Healthy and yum. But for three of the past nine meals I've had a fried chicken product. You know I love fried chicken. Once the pollen subsides I'll have to go walk off the fried chicken then eat the tofu to maintain my girlish figure.

I'm highly educated and poorly paid. Less than a teacher to be exact, but I dig my job and I wouldn't change it.

I work 40 hours a week for a local, non-profit corporation. And since I don't make enough there to support my middle class lifestyle --- come on, people, I need DVR and a car and gas and clothes and smoothies --- I work another 11 hours at a multi-national retail corporation. Tee hee.

The irony is funny, just like the Neti Pot. While I may be an unbalanced walking contradiction in size 10 petite pants (more irony! huge hips!) at least I'm happy... And that's nothing to sneeze at.

Living in the South has caught up with me.

2007-04-03T15:51:00.000-07:00

Your Linguistic Profile:

55% General American English

20% Upper Midwestern

15% Dixie

5% Midwestern

0% Yankee

What Kind of American English Do You Speak?

I love having a good day.

2007-03-19T14:39:00.000-07:00

Though I typically refrain from work-related posts, this time it just can't be helped. I'm LOVING my new job. I get to engage both my adminsitrative side and my creative impulses. So far this month I've gotten high marks on a little grant, helped with some other grant-related materials, developed and created a proposal to pitch to the City for an outreach program at community centers. This morning I even gotten attend the meeting where the proposal was being made by several Board members and my boss to the Mayor and City Manager. FUN FUN FUN! I got to explain the program. It seems the whole group was as enthusiastic as I am. Last Friday I led an art activity for a group of journalists who were checking out arts in the area. That was a blast. Cocktails and creativity, though I didn't do the cocktail part. So, I feel happy and fulfilled at work. And that is a nice feeling.

Plus, I have awesome friends. Attended a rollicking good party Saturday. Tonight we're having dinner with the neighbors. Prep is underway for the second annual "Not Your Mother's Garage Sale" to be held later this month. I'm even happy working a second job. Anyway, I hope I can keep up with this awesome positive streak I've been having. I'll put my best energy out there in hopes that it will continue to come back to me that way. That's a little new-agey, but it seems to be working this March (typically one of my least inspired months of the year).

I love having a good day.

Election 2008: American Idol.

2007-03-15T16:40:00.000-07:00

I'm sure by now it's unoriginal. Surely someone on this great, big Internet has disucssed how presidential politics so closely resemble a blown-out-of-proportion American Idol process. That makes it sound like I don't really care much for American Idol OR presidential politics. But that's wrong; indeed I love both.

At this point in the American Idol copmetition I don't really find myself all that attached to any one contestant. My strategy is just to find a couple of people I could basically live with. Then as I get to know and the season wears on, I pick a favorite and rally strong. Really, really, really strong.

The past couple of months were basically the season premiere for the 2008 election. More just like a pilot episode where shit is just fuckin' crazy. Boobie flashin', Internet-writers bashin', first season kind of stuff. If only I could catch the entire 2008 political season on my DVR and watch an episode of the Simpson (right now the School Band Competition episodes, perfect for a band geek like me) during the parts I don't really wanna see. Instead I'll have to be engaged in the political process.

Let's get it on then, candidates. Show me the stuff I want to see and dispense with the bullshit. I just want to fast-forward with five speedy arrows through the medicore crap. 'Election 2008 = American Idol High Stakes' for me from here on out. I bet this'll get interesting.

An opportunity I wish I had.

2007-03-14T03:48:00.000-07:00

I wish I had the opportunity to slug the asshole who decided it's okay to service a water tower at 6 am. For two weeks (luckily I was out of town for one of them) large machines have been sounding like jet planes in my backyard at all hours of the day. No letter saying "sorry for the inconvenience" or anything like that. Just loud machines at all the Godforsaken time. I'm a morning person but this shit is ridiculous. No, it's fuckin' ridiculous. If I could I'd sew the guy to my floor rug right by the back door so s/he could feel my pain. Now that's an opportunity I wish I had. Instead I just called the police department to complain.

Just three words.

2007-03-13T19:07:00.000-07:00

1. Where is your cell phone? On the table.
2. Boyfriend/girlfriend? He's my husband.
3. Hair? Crazy curly mess.
4. Your mother? I love her.
5. Your father? I love him.
6. Your favorite item(s)? Ring, car, house.
7. Your dream last night? Can't remember any.
8. Your favorite drink? Anything with friends.
9. Your dream guy/girl? In another room.
10. The room you are in? My fave hangout.
11. Your fear? Failing in general.
12. What do you want to be in 10 years? Happy, healthy, successful.
13. Who did you hang out with last night? Pete and dog.
14. What are you not? Rich, skinny, unhappy.
15. Are you in love? I sure am!
16. One of your wish list items? Winning the lottery
17. What time is it? Time to chill.
18. The last thing you did? Talked on phone.
19. What are you wearing? T-shirt, pants, Crocs.
20. Your favorite book? Can't choose one.
21. The last thing you ate? Kaluha milk shake.
22. Your life? Pretty damned good.
23. Your mood? I'm great today.
24. Your friends? All amazing people.
25. What are you thinking about right now? Tomorrow like today?
26. Your car? Covered in pollen.
27. What are you doing at this moment? Waiting for Pete
28. Your summer? Gonna be nuts.
29. Your relationship status? I'm happily married.
30. What is on your TV screen? It's turned off.
31. When is the last time you laughed? Just minutes ago.
32. Last time you cried? Leaving the airport.
33. School? Florida State University.

On life and death in a small town.

2007-03-11T06:25:00.000-07:00

I traveled to Iowa this week for my Grandmother's funeral. Lest this post come off as irreverent, you should know I hold my Grandmother, and all of my family, in the highest esteem. Grandma Betty had been sick for several year with Alzheimer's. It had been mostly downhill since my wedding almost four years ago. When those you love are sick enough not to be able to swallow even pureed food or water or breathe, it's hard to know what to wish for. Well, celebrating my Grandma's long and vibrant life was amazing. It's hard to imagine life without her - I've never spent time in Marcus without here there - and her memory will live on. And in celebrating her life, her love for her family and her passions, I even got to indulge a few of my own.

I love the Midwest. Garrison Keillor seems to hit it right on the head, and I couldn't help but think of his idealized view of Midwesterners the whole week through. Life is so much easier there, you hop right off the plane, meet your brother in the terminal, get the rental car and head home. They're even nice to you at the Taco John's. And you can't get within a 35-mile radius of my population-1000 old hometown without seeing someone you know. And when you get there, people really, truly, genuinely want to know how you are. They have a vested interest - they've known your family from years and can recall the day you were born.

I shook hands without 300 people who came to the funeral home to express their sympathies. Each had special memories of my Grandmother and our family. Friends, family members, all together, all mourning and all remembering Grandma from better days. We set up pictures of her from the 1930s on - and people who could recall her from all those years. These are ordinary people, sharing imtimate and personal details often with a smile, and sometimes with a tear.

It was 30 degrees the morning of the funeral. My cheeks burned from the cold when I walked across town to the chuch to light a candle several hours before the 10:30 am service. The sun shone through the stained glass windows, and even though there were inches of snow on the ground (the most, in fact, in over 30 years) there was a certain warmth. Especially when we had a luncheon post-funeral in the basement of the church.

So many people important and special to my life were there --- the band director/ordained Catholic deacon who married my husband and me, my dad's aunts, uncles and cousins, a dear high school friend who drove 3.5 hours to be there from the Des Moines area. We ate ham sandwiches on white buns (with margarine, oleo as it's called there) and passed fruit salads, potato salads and baked goods. If you measure a person's life in love and laughter, I'd say this particular luncheon was a fitting tribute.

At my parents' house there were casseroles, brownines, meat and cheese trays, sympathy cards, flower, plants, carmel pecan rolls, flowers, beer brought by friends and more flowers. We sat there with Grandpa, sharing our love and support during what was a tough week. (He'd lost his sister the previous week and he turned 82 on Wednesday. I think all those events in combination remind you of your own mortality.)

We took flowers to shut-ins the day after the funeral. Then Mom and I drove to Cherokee, the count of seat of our county. There we went to a new little coffee shop and a kitchen speciality shop and a little place that sold purses. These are folks who don't need Fendi. If it holds there debit card from Farmers Savings Bank, it's good enough. We ate at the Bowling Alley, and the food was good and fresh and tasty and by my standards, inexpensive. These are the valuable lessons of where I grew up: because it's easy doesn't mean it sucks. Because it's convenient, it doesn't mean it's a cop out.

I don't have any desire to live in my hometown. But I do have a certain reverence for it. I've seen the way communities can act with kindness. For example, one of the richest guys in town winters in Arizona. When a family's house burned a couple of weeks ago, he volunteered his place. I'm sure there's no rental agreement or expectation, just kindness. I know there are more sides to the story; the lack of anonymitiy and the judgement of small-town folks. But largely it's a pretty amazing place. That's what I learned this week. A lesson in kindness and community. At the heart of it, I gues that's the lesson of life in a small town.

When it's cold you can smell the pizza.

2007-02-20T16:38:00.000-08:00

I live about a block away from two pizza places on opposite sides of a nearby street. Often on nights where it's cold here, that means it's VERY VERY STILL too. No breeze = cold. On those nights when I step out in the back to let out the dog, I can smell the pizza. But only when it's cold and the breeze isn't diluting the pizza scent.

With the fragrant Papa Johns arouma around me, I got to thinking about pizza memories. There are just so many. Some of the first times I can remember being in the Pizza Ranch in my hometown, in approximately 1987. I can remember going there in high school. And there were pizza parties for the famed State Fair Singers and Jazz band in almost ten years ago. I can remember eating pizza with my dad when I visited Luther for college. Speaking of college, there was a lot of pizza there, too. Lots, I tell you. A staggering amount for a small Iowa town, really.

For me pizza is happy memories,like hanging out with Pete and our friend Adam late at night, eating leftover pizza from Adam's part-time job when we should have been studying music history. If I'd studied, maybe then I wouldn't of had to take the remedial music history class I failed when I started graduate school. Instead I was enjoying Cactus Bread.

Well, I'm far away from the Pizza Ranch and Mabe's now. But I can't help but still lovin' me some pizza. Probably I'll bring some home later this week. Then I'll have the "working at a cool job enoying my late 20s" pizza memories. I'd like that. Just the way I like it when it's cold and you can smell the pizza.

The state of things.

2007-02-08T15:43:00.000-08:00

Cryin' out loud. Current events are really something, eh? I can hardly wait to watch Jon Stewart tonight. First you've got the Astro-nut saga. And Pelsoi and the plane. She had to, man. She had to get the bigger plane for the sake of the war on terror. Oh my. And now Anna Nicole Smith? Shit. I love the news. And I always have. When I was a kid I'd of rather watched the news than Saturday morning cartoons. Just as long as I've been saying cryin' out loud.

And North Korea. Heavens, it's dramatic. This day was crazy enough without the nukes.

Dies irea.

2007-01-29T17:47:00.000-08:00

Last week I killed a squirrel. The little bugger darted out towards the front passenger side of my car, and before the little guy knew it he'd been nailed. I was really sad, what with it being my first squirrel homicide and all. So I thought about crying. I was processing my emotions about the little fella when Verdi's Dies Irea came on the classical radio station I was listening to. That translates to day of wrath. Yikes. And I realized, again, how funny and ironic life can be. So I laughed all the way to work. I still feel bad for the little guy, though. Rest in peace, buddy.

About Me.

2007-01-14T07:08:00.000-08:00

Animated Architect

Never say never.

2007-01-10T08:54:00.000-08:00

I have done the unthinkable. What I said I would never do. I swore I would never again wear leggings, and today I have done it. Black footless tights with lace at the bottoms. Very 1991-inspired. But in 1991 I would have never, ever worn a wool tweed skirt. In 1991 I had not been to London to purchase my favorite red cashmere sweater at Harrod's, which I am also wearing today. Other things I had not imagined for myself in 1991:

Eating mayonaise. In cole slaw, potato salad, chicken salad, you name it. I swore I would never eat it. I also didn't eat salad dressing. Luckily I saw the error of my ways.
In 1991 I was devestated not to be a member of the D.A.R.E. leadership team. It is as if my love for beer and wine was laid out ten years before I was allowed to legally allowed to consume it.
I was certainly a huge dork then. Only I swore I would never embrace it. Hey, man, geek love is cool. Soooooo cool. The blogosphere is full of nerds, and I love them all. Jenn hearts total dorks, band geeks and other various and sundry freaks. I work at an art center for God's sake. Show the freak love. If only I'd know this when I had to defend my undying love for Stevie Wonder to others near the swings in 1991.
I never imagined that I WOULD NOT have children at age 26. I thought I was made for that shit. I may be made for it someday, but I'm pretty sure at 11 that it would be all sewn up (pun intended) in 15 years.

I'm sure there's more. But that's enough for now. See what I mean? Never say never.

Story and Interactive Invitation

2007-01-08T13:45:00.000-08:00

Earlier this week I heard an airline horror story, and was reminded of an airline story where things could have been very, very bad. Here goes:

This summer I had to travel to Iowa alone, sans husband, to a family wedding. All that was fine, didn't mind (at least too much). What was too much to take was the return trip from Omaha to Atlanta. You're smart, you probably remember a serious heat snap in the Midwest this summer, where your face melted off and it was above 100 degrees everyday? Yup, you remember that. I flew then. My flight was delayed out of Omaha for "mechanical reasons" enough to sit in the airport for a few extra hours. When I stepped onto the hot, steaming plane the flight attendant told me why --- no air con. 106 degrees outside, and no air coniditoning in the plane. No cool, manufactured air until we would reach thousands of feet in the air, somewhere between Omaha and Atlanta.

It took forever to get the passengers on the plane; the usual assortment of old people, screaming infants and screaming others. The last empty seat on the plane was next to me. Nine times out of ten this kind of scenario does not end well, and I suspected I would be with the group where the odds were not in my favor. Imagine how I felt about things when I watched the final passenger board the plane, arm tattoos as far as the eye can see and long (unwashed?) hair haphazardly held back in a ponytail. Sweat everywhere, on everyone on the plane.

So the guy sits down next to me and immediately launches into a story about how wasted he was at the wedding he was a part of the previous day. I am sweating my ass off, sweating through my cute little Joe's Jeans that I have worn with big sunglasses in an attempt to disguise myself as a sophisticated traveller. Literally stuck to the seat from my sweat. So things really turned around when Mr. Ponytail opened his backpack and asked me if I WOULD LIKE A NICE COLD BEER FROM THE SIX PACK HE SOMEHOW MANAGED TO CARRY ON THE PLANE.

Yes, yes, yes, indeed I wanted a nice cold beer. What would be better at a moment like that? How about lisening to good music? Turns out Mr. Ponytail is a sound engineer for the likes of Phish and Citizen Cope (a new love of mine). Also turns out for our trouble Delta gave all the passengers all the free booze they wanted in the sky between Omaha and Atlanta. The moral of my story is the old "don't judge a book by its cover" kind of deal. You never know when the book might have six nice cold beers.

And now for my interactive invite, if you have a crazy airline story, share it. Post it up, yo. I want to hear about it. I am preparing myself for no comments, but I want to see reads this little gem I write. So share away y'all.

Three is a magic number.

2007-01-04T07:31:00.000-08:00

Most recently it has been a magical, shitty number. Have you ever noticed how crappy things happen in threes? I hate to bitch today, especially since my life is good, I'm happy in the new year and all. I had planned to post about what my outfit says about me today, indicating self-awareness and an affinity for costuming, because after all, that's all clothes are. My circumstances being what they are, I think I'll go on about the three most fucked up things in my recent adventures.

Shitty Thing #1: Kiln disaster. Luckily I was not killed like Fawn in Animal House, all I had to do was contact a bunch of students and tell them that their wares had been destroyed when the kiln over-heated. My sources tell me I did not in fact ruin this kiln, nor can I be held responsible for the loss of so many Christmas gifts. Nevertheless, when I opened the kiln to behold what I had hoped would be beautiful chip and dip sets, plates and free-form pieces, I nearly had a complete emotional breakdown when I instead discovered piles of clay and glaze puddled and hardened on kiln shelves. Shit. So much to learn. Also, it sucks this happened at 8am on a Saturday in the middle of December, but what can you do? It's good to be employed.

Shitty Thing #2: Clavicle Injury (but not to me). P. flipped over his mountain bike a few days before Christmas and fractured his clavicle. Turned out to be okay, seeing as we spent several impromtu days together, and also how I helped him complete his Christmas shopping by selected a few items I really wanted, and made easy-to-consume foods like Paula Deen casseroles Christmas lunch. It just sucks, though, to watch someone you love experience such pain. And difficulty opening Christmas presents. I am grateful, though, that no head injuries were sustained and we were picking out a sling rather than a wheelchair or casket. Man, my thinking is dark some days.

Shitty Thing #3: Crafty escaping pup. Well, not so crafty seeing as how the gate was left open. (Not my fault, nor Pete's.) But you can imagine my panic and surprise when I checked my voicemail to learn that Etta was found near the Quality Inn on (the very busy, four lane 50 mph traffic) Apalachee Parkway this morning. She had darked almost half a mile from our house but was picked up by a kind stranger, another non-profit employee who called me immediately. This scares the shit out of me, though. I plan for that pup to grow old, so that I can love her even when her little snout is gray and she has to be lifted onto the couch to cuddle up with me and Pete. So glad she's home safe and sound, and in lock-down (better known as her crate) until I can get home and watch her.

2006 --- The year in review meme.

2007-01-01T17:44:00.000-08:00

2006 In The Beginning......

Where did you bring in the New Year?: At a party with Pete and friends.
Who were you with?: Like I said above.
Did you kiss anyone at midnight?: Mi husbundo.
Did you make any resolutions?: Yes --- to want what I already have.
If so did you keep them?: With some measure of success.

2006 Your Love Life....

Single/Taken?: Very taken, til death do us part.

2006 Friends and Enemies......

Did you meet any new friends this year?: Yes.
Did any of your friendships end?: Who knows?
Did you dislike anyone?: Yes.
Did you get into any fights?: No.
Did you make any new enemies?: Could be.
Did you resolve any fights?: Who wrote this, 7th graders?
Who was your closest friend?: Pete.

2006...The Holidays!

Did you have a Valentine?: Sure did.
Did the Easter bunny visit you?: He brought a killing basket.
Did watch fireworks on the 4th of July?: Yes. Over the pen in Tallahassee. "Nothing says 'let freedom ring' like fireworks behind a prison."
Did you dress up for Halloween?: As a marching band flag girl.
What did you do for Thanksgiving?: Ate a feast with the Tally extended family, worked my first gallery opening and then partied with the extended family of pals.
Did you make a list of gifts for the holidays? A short one.
Did you receive what you wanted?: Indeed, I was so excited about Santa bringing that LifeSavers Sweet Storybook!
Were you good this holiday season?: Good enough y'all.

2006 Your BIRTHDAY!!!

Did you have a cake? It was a yellow cake with what was supposed to be carmel frosting. (See a picture of the disaster on P.'s MySpace profile.)
What did you do for your birthday?: Had a great party.
Did you have a party?: Had a great party.
Did you get any presents? An iTunes gift card, a bitchin' mix CD and other treats. Oooh, and a nice bracelet from my mom.

2006......The Memories and Accomplishments!

Funniest Memory?: So many to choose from. Can't choose!
Saddest Memory? Saying goodbye to P. before his Africa trip.
Best Accomplishment?: Learning to say "no" and meaning it. Knowing myself and what I want better.

2006.....All about YOU....

Did you change at all this year?: Yes.
Was 2006 a good year?: A good learning experience. I have a good life.
Did 2006 bring any new insights?: Yes.
Do you think 2007 will top 2006?: Yup. Let's get 'er done.
Do you have any goals for 2007?: This year's resolution --- take good care.

Music is good. (Stream of Consciousness.)

2006-12-11T15:45:00.000-08:00

I am a musician, but somehow don't buy nearly enough music. I should be the most crazy consumer of art, but somehow jeans and food and toilet paper and fun often come out on top where my discretionary income is in effect. Today, however, I decided to devote a little cash to some new CDs. Two Christmas discs --- James Taylor at Christmas (with some ass-kicking studio musicians that I wanted to check out) and Chanticleer (a classical a capella group that includes a member from Quimby, IA... don't be confused, they are in fact very well known); also John Legend's latest project.

IT IS AWESOME. AWESOME. AWESOME.

Lately I've had to turn to artists like Beck for creativity, but pop-star Johnny Boy clearly brings some pretty remarkable influences I happen to love (Stevie Wonder, Marvin Gaye, Al Green) and seems to be intelligent and talented. I, for one, have respect for that. He also performed with Tony Bennett on a primetime special a few days before Thanksgiving PLUS a stint with my fave diva, Oprah. (If you can get ahold of that, check it out, it has Stevie Wonder in it really blowing my mind.) The whole primetime connection and prominence before the general American public of football and NASCAR fans is a blog for another day.

So, I guess where this is going is to say something I've known for a long time: music is powerful. Cheezy though it may be, it has taken me places (literally), informed my entire way of thinking, been largely responsible for meeting many of the coolest people I have ever met (this is been going on since I met pal-for-life Josh at music camp in the early '90s, plus pals from a summer jaunt across the state of Iowa in a tour bus --- culminating at the Iowa State Fair, oh, and meeting the most special and remarkable person in my life...) I digress.

Now it seems I am a very lucky girl. I'm starting the voyage on a second artistic path, one with visual arts at the forefront. At least for my day gig. May you feel as peaceful as I do this moment, checking out music. :) Aaaaaahhhh.

Where you at?

2006-12-08T20:24:00.000-08:00

I've been exploring one of life's many cool opportunities: a job where I am not attached to my computer perched on a desk chair for eight solid hours. I fire a kiln, sell kick-ass holiday decorations, show people around the gallery, work the cash register, promote arts education program, work on art projects (as in get paid to work on them), hang around with kids and volunteers... So there's always lots going on and no two days are the same.

I am grateful for the good things in my life, and in addition to fulfillment during my working hours, I am learning lots about my place in the universe. Earlier this week students from a local public school dedicated to serving students with provound physical and developmental diasbilities visited the gallery. Their teacher told me one of the six visitors had made a very few sounds --- he does not speak though he is a teenager, and is confined to a wheelchair --- that the most emotion she had seen him display since mid-August was when he saw the lights and objects displayed at our holiday show. See what I mean about perspective?

But life provides good balance. I took a part-time job working at a women's clothing store to provide a little extra cash and some serious comic relief, but that's a stor for another day. Let's hope that there's more time for that soon.

Give it up.

2006-11-22T20:22:00.000-08:00

Time to offer some thanks. I fashion myself to be a truly grateful person. I have a wonderful and loving husband who is creative, intelligent, kind and inspiring. I have parents who have shown me more love and kindness than I could ever humanly expect or deserve. I have a cool brother who teaches me many things and a very, very driven sister-in-laws. I have siblings-in-law whom I admire. I have a job that is as ecclectic as my home decorating sense, a part-time gig that is changing the way I think of perfect strangers, I have a pup who cuddles up, good health, a warm bed to sleep in, plenty of food (do you know how expensive a standing rib roast costs? damn.) that is really, really, really tasty. I have friends who are like an extended family - diverse, busy, focused, expressive and talented bunch. I have friends of old who are far away but never forgotten, though we may rarely communicate. I have surprise phone calls to look forward to, and laughs to share. I have morning coffee and mimosas on the horizon after a three mile jog, plus muffins and companionship. I have enjoyable food prep with my sweetie, a little bit of vino from the lot purchased today and a feast with 10 people whom I will be honored to be with. Life indeed is good. I hope you have plenty to be thankful for, too. Give it up with a grateful heart, y'all. Happy Thanksgiving.

It's Frugral Friday!

2006-11-18T04:36:00.000-08:00

Two Frugal Friday entries today... The tip itself and then a Frugal Friday Monologue. Enjoy.

Tip: Canvas shoe bags make great storage containers in every room in the house. They're not just for shoe stoage anymore, baby. I keep on in the bathroom to hold lotions, bandages and other various and sundry items. If I had the right place in my kitchen it would hold utensils and spices.

Monologue: Here's a way to spend a Friday night without spending much cash, and it will help explain why I didn't get this posted yesterday. Here goes nothing. Work all week. If you haven't done this since September 28 it is easy to come home exhausted. Have happy hour at your kitchen table with good friends, eat leftovers on the couch and get a movie On Demand. Get ready to post your blog. Then fall asleep...

Frugal Friday Tip

2006-11-10T14:10:00.000-08:00

This week's Frugal Friday tip: Almond oil. What an awesome tool for manicures! Just mix a tablespoon with some epsom salts and scrub. Slather up with some lotion afterwards. AWESOME. Give yourself a little coat of almond oil before apply lotion for several days in a row; then scrub again. I buy the oil at our co-op, but you can probably get it for just about $5 anywhere. And epsom salts are a couple of bucks, too. Right on, I say. Frugal Friday rules.

Let the craziness begin.

2006-11-09T06:52:00.000-08:00

It's been a good week here, a busy one. Finally! Busy again. I start my new and awesome Director of Education job at a local art gallery on Monday, and I started my part-time retail gig yesterday. I have surpised myself with an interest in working for a large multi-national corporation, not unlike those I often complain about. I will not complain about the handsome associate discount.

Also, go politics. Tuesday was a great day for American democracy, in my opinion. Nice to see the Blues take control of Congress. As a constant reminder, I will soon have a pair of patent leather red Dansko clogs, won on eBay on the day the GOP red party lost control of Congress since they assumed almost total control when I was too young to vote but still had a strong opinion for politics. Got stepped on, I will probably think of that and chuckle, but that's just me.

Exercise

2006-11-07T04:43:00.000-08:00

Your civic duty! Please vote today.

I voted today, but I am cynical about the vote in Florida. P. and I went to vote this morning at 7a, when the polls opened. When I finished my ballot (which I spent considerable time learning about this election) I went to the scan-tron machine and lo and behold, it was broken. So I hope my vote will count; I'm certain it will, but it's not hard to understand why people don't feel so great about our democratic process. All voters were invited back to watch the process at 7p when the ballots from earlier in the day are counted, but I'll be performing my other civic duty: community band. Nevertheless, it's great to vote. And the sticker makes such a rad accessory all day long.

Frugal Friday!

2006-11-03T13:40:00.000-08:00

By classification, I am nowhere near poor. I certainly don't qualify as wealthy either. I consider myself lucky to even be approaching the middle class. Dudes, we live in a seriously shrinking middle class in this amazing country of ours, and my opinion is that we can each pinch a penny here and there for good reasons all our own.

It will keep me vigilant if I share a frugal tip each week, so Frugal Friday is born. I am plenty excited about this concept, so today I'll share not one but two frugal tips.

Tip #1: Make your own disinfectant wipes rather than signing away your life savings to the Clorox company. Take some paper towels, fold them in half or thirds depending on your persuasion. You could even cut the roll in half with an electric knife. That would be dramatic. Anyway, next boil a cup of water and pour it over 1/4 cup of Borax. (Borax is not toxic or lethal but will clean the living shit out of some stuff. Give it a whirl. If you don't give a crap about the enviornment and toxicity, you could subsitute PineSol or some other cleaner.) Pour half of the liquid mix in the botton of the container in which you will store the wipes. Put in the towels, schlop the remaining liquid on top. Turn the container over several times, let the towels absord the liquid for a few hours and you'll be ready to wipe some stuff up. Good luck. And don't use cheap paper towels, it doesn't pay in this instance.

Tip #2: Framed letters and cards make excellent home decorating items. Complete a grouping on your bookshelf, relive a card from your dad that says "Oh Shit" in your kitchen, etc. No message is too outrageous.

Already I feel fulfilled by Frugal Friday.

That's abuse.

2006-11-02T12:45:00.000-08:00

I hate it that politicans and mega-stars use their substance abuse as a convenient excuse when things go sour. Mel Gibson and his stint in rehab, Mark Foley and his alleged substance abuse issues and now Florida State Rep. Rafael Arza (R - Miami) is blaming his use of a racial slur on the fact that he was drunk.

I don't consider myself a total lush, but many a weekend night find me with more than a beer or two, drunk and having a dance party in somebody's living room. You don't find me (or any of my pals, for that matter) leaving messages with racial slurs, sending inappropriate email messages to children or verbally absuing a Jewish police officer. When I get drunk, I listen to a little Kanye West, wireless compute, and often become overwhelmed by my love for my husband and fondness for my cute little dog. I don't get it, man. I know everybody's different, but friends, we must draw the line in the sand at some point, for heaven's sake.

Luckily I'm not the only one who feels this way. I know it's long, but I am posting an editorial comment from CBS's Bob Schieffer on the matter. It's worth a read - and proves that many of us are tired of excuses. Enjoy.

How you doing on excuses in the Mark Foley Congressional Page scandal?

Remember when the story first broke? Congressional excusers who apparently knew of this, first described the e-mails that Foley sent to a 16-year old page as "overly friendly," not explicitly obscene.

My first thought was that great line from Robin Williams' new movie when a presidential character denied wrongdoing: "I did not have sex with that woman...I wanted to."

Then we heard that whatever he had done, Foley had checked into alcohol rehab — the obligatory stop for national celebrities caught in scandal

Question: does getting drunk make it OK for a grown man to prey on 16-year-olds or for congressional leaders to cover it up?

From Chapter Two of the excuse manual came word that as a child Foley was abused by a priest, but was now cooperating with authorities — naming names.

Which brought a 69-year-old man from under a rock somewhere with an excuse to gag a buzzard.

It's always dangerous to say we know enough, but haven't most of us with an IQ higher than our age figured out two things here: that Foley is a creep who should be kept away from kids and that Congressional leaders knew that — how could they not have known — yet chose to ignore it?

I have a request. My barf bag is at the ready, but spare me any more detail.

I know all I need to know on this one.

By Bob Schieffer
©MMVI, CBS Broadcasting Inc. All Rights Reserved.

Just call me Prez.

2006-11-02T09:26:00.000-08:00

What Famous Leader Are You?
personality tests by similarminds.com

Honeymoon Garage Sale

2006-10-31T13:15:00.000-08:00

Since I've had some free time, I've taken to regularly checking websites. Some blogs I like to read, hometown Iowa newspapers (both for news and entertainment purposes), job sites (thank goodness that is over), friends' photo sites, craft ideas (I am working on some coolass shit), and of course Craigslist. It's good to know when there's a garage sale that might be decent, a pet forum worth reading or some other surpise. So, given the time factor, I've been hitting not just my local site, but I am always researching apartments to rent and jobs available in what you might consider a more trendy locale than where I live. Considering that I check out New York, West Coast Locations, even Omaha and Boise, I would have never guessed that the most ludicrous post would be from right here in my Capital City. Are you ready? Get ready...

GARAGE SALE!!
Help us pay for our honeymoon...come buy our stuff!
*Donations also welcome!*

I am all for the spirit of entrepreneurship, but doesn't that just seem like taking things a step too far? To advertise that donations toward your honeymoon are welcomed at your garage sale? Honey, can you cancel that check for the refugees in Darfur? I want to donate to a HONEYMOON. Puh-leez.

And based on the results of my garage sale, which I would sale was overwhelmingly successful, I would like to wish the new couple well as they ride off in the sunset, toward a rural North Florida Motel 6 (and probably to a movie and Barnhill's all-you-can-eat buffet). As a special treat, stop for some boiled p-nuts on the trip. Here's to you, happy couple. Let's hope at some point in your marriage you discover something the rest of us call good taste.

This man is brave.

2006-10-31T03:16:00.000-08:00

A colleague of mine recently had a brother severly injured in Iraq. Her family is keeping a blog to post his progress. Whether or not we agree with the mission, it seems to me that we are able to forget that the men and women killed and injured everyday are real people with real families and real lives. I'd encourage you to read Josh's blog to really put a human face on things and remind us of all we have to be thankful for.

Things to love, Monday edition.

2006-10-30T11:31:00.000-08:00

Employment. Soon I will be working here.

Fun. Was I the last person on the planet to discover Richard Cheese? Check this guy out.

Family.

A fenced backyard.

A new week.

Cheers ya'll.

Toys these days...

2006-10-27T13:56:00.000-07:00

As I child, I enjoyed some toys. My favorite was a Discovery Toys marble maze thing where you could design different ways for the marble to run. I was a lover of dolls, that not so much for Barbie. I loved a good hula hoop and had quite a fondness for my baton. Not baton in the musical sense - good guess though. Baton as in what you might carry if you were the featured twirler with a marching band.

I found a great costume for a baton twirler months ago and have been on a bit of a quest to find a baton to accompany the good ol' outfit since May. My search has intensified since my Halloween party is tonight, in two hours... Not a baton to be found. Not for lack of trying, though. I've been to the mall toystore, Toys-R-Us, three Halloween shops, K-Mart, Wal-Mart, Target, CVS, Walgreens and a sporting goods store. No baton to be found.

Toys these days are lamentable. They all come in those stupid plastic bubble containers - you know, the kind you could kill yourself on. There is plenty of Easy Bake shit, no shortage of branded toys (like a look-a-like Subway-make-a-sub-kit, just what you need for a better life), dolls like Bratz (which would be more aptly named Slutz) and plenty of make-up stuff. But no batons. Mommas, don't let your babies grow up to be baton twirlers. Instead, I'll be carrying a pair of K-Mart poms poms and pining for the '80s, when being a baton twirler was easy.

Simple pleasures.

2006-10-26T06:57:00.000-07:00

Chocolate milk, sleeping in, fried eggs, warm blankets, sleeping pups, candy corn, surprise phone calls, possibility, fun. I like this stuff.

You deserve it.

2006-10-24T20:12:00.000-07:00

I've been thinking lots about entitlement lately. It's something I struggle with. I abhor comments like "Well, I bought it because I only deserve the best, so I thought I should have it." I think inner-city children deserve the best education, but we don't see that happening consistently. I don't understand why musicians show up late too a rehearsal, how you can question a plan different from your or rationalize inconsiderate behavior on the basis of selfish entitlement issues. As we approach the slothful holiday season and the haves and the have-nots become visible, as the American dream is squeezed by the pressure of a shrinking middle class and as those around us nearly drown keeing their heads above the water, I'm going to try and remember that I'm not entitled. Maybe Garrison Keillor and the Midwesterners were right and we're not so different and special after all. Seems we all deserve the best. Now, on with how we achieve it.

What's ordinary?

2006-10-23T18:26:00.000-07:00

I hate even the thought of being ordinary. I think I have a pretty interesting life - not the usual, that's for sure. There is the (sometimes lamentable) absence of two full-time gainfully employed people in my household. In fact, at the moment we lack even one full-time gainfully employed person. But so far, so good. I guess that is not very ordinary. I do not many people who have husbands that spend the summer in Africa while the wife had crazy American adventures on this continent. (Hello? Car purchase, cat death, two broken-down cars, nutty job to name a few.) So that doesn't seem very ordinary at all. My career field is interesting, and I love it, which doesn't seem very ordinary. But somehow it's still not very attractive right now.

Today the quarterly Luther College alumni magazine arrived. I always enjoy cruising through it, reading about people I know and the happenings in their lives. (I.e. Brother-In-Law '05 is director of bands at County-Seat-Western-Iowa-Town High School or Classmate '03 gave had baby girl, Beautiful Nordic Miss, June 2006.) There are always lots of people earning law degrees, plenty in the Peace Corps, lots of people getting married (gay and straight are recognized in the publication, hurrah!), and the inevitable child thing that I just can't relate to. Somehow I really love reading about people and the things they are doing, though the accuracy of the information can occasionally be called into question. It's cool to see what classmates are up to, and also what people are doing who graduated 15, 20 or 35 years ago. It gives me hope for the future to read about people who are retiring or earning awards for their many years of service to their career field. None of that seems very ordinary, and it's all pretty rad.

My husband had a high school pal find him on MySpace. I kind of love it when that happens. Seeing that a long-lost Iowa friend graduated from college, worked in the UK, has pictures from a honeymoon in Portugal, lives in LA and is moving to Austin makes me feel really boring. I wonder what perfect strangers read when they see my info and read "unemployed, unbearably crazy work situation again" on my data sheet. Makes me feel... Well, ordinary.

But what's ordinary? There's nothing ordinary about living in Florida and knowing that it's going to be in the 30s tonight. There's not much ordinary about being miles and miles and miles and miles away from where I thought I'd be when I "grew up." It doesn't seem very ordinary that I don't know what my next life step is, and certainly not ordinary that I could somehow look forward to a part-time job interview at Macy's. No, my friends, that's certainly not ordinary.

Since I can't reach any conclusions about ordinary, I'm left to ponder normal. I suppose I can't classify myself as normal, either. But I don't think I've met one normal person yet that I actually liked. Sigh.

Life, or something like it.

2006-10-22T15:21:00.000-07:00

Well, friends, it's weekend-time. For me it's been the weekend since the beginning of this month. Tons of free time, with unlimited constraints on TV watching, reading-for-pleasure, cleaning house (or not cleaning house), playing-with-dog-time... All of this sounds great and is for a short period of time. But now I am ready to go to work again. But work is not ready for me. I'm looking to find something retail or part-time to get me through and keep me busy while I look for something permanent, a good fit where I can spend my days working as a part of a team, and perhaps in the evening complaining about work, just like most normal Americans I know. That would be a delight.

Those of you know me know that I am pretty thrifty. This is not something that has come naturally, it is a trait I have honed since getting married, going to graduate school and as the bread-winner of my non-profit working/Ph.D. student married household. I think it's good that I have learned to find a good deal at Goodwill, know where to buy bras so that the 7th one is free, how to shop the grocery store circular, clip a coupon or two and eat out for lunch instead of dinner. But I am holding down my purchases even more than usual with my unemployment situation. I guess this is what it means to be a real adult.

This has been a learning experience, there are many things that I know: I could NEVER NEVER NEVER NEVER EVER be a stay-at-home mom or one of those work-from-home people. I like the physical act of going to work. It is nice to cook and have the time to clean it up. And last, but certainly not least, patience is a virtue. I'll keep working on that one...

Market this.

2006-10-12T17:51:00.000-07:00

I turned on "Ugly Betty" not really because of interest but rather because I just needed some benign sound while I cleaned up a bit. I mean, I know the whole thing is improbable, but I do like the message that you don't have to be thin or beautiful or white or a man or from Manhattan or rich to make it. The whole dream-come-true while being-true-to-self is nice. But it's obvious what the demographics on this show are. Just take one look at the ads. "Ugly Betty" attracts an audience of women who don't think they're good enough. Contrasting the message of the show are back-to-back-to-back commercials for Jenny Craig, WeightWatchers and Curves. Sigh.

Time keeps on slippin'.

2006-10-10T15:49:00.000-07:00

Another gray, cloudy autumn here in Tallahassee. Says nothing of the beautiful weekend weather we enjoyed at Cape San Blas. The temp was so moderate we sat for 8 hours on the beach and I didn't break a sweat or get a burn. Bay scallops for supper with slaw and cheese grits in Apalach. Snorkeling with the fishies. Fun with pals. Life is good.

Re-read In Cold Blood and then watched Capote this afternoon. May see Infamous on Friday, may start volunteering with the Florida Democratic Party or public radio or the Red Cross or something whilst I wait for a new job to pop up. Free time with the DVR has been nice but is getting a little more depressing. I desire a job to give my days some focus. I don't think I could ever be a stay-at-home mom, but maybe I'll be wrong. Seems like a stay-at-home dad might be a more likely scenario in our case (but not now, lest you get the wrong idea).

Hmmm, back to work on my mac and cheese and CSI: Miami episode. Like I said, life is kind of nice.

Been to 30 and counting.

2006-10-05T18:16:00.000-07:00

[x] Alabama
[] Alaska
[x] Arizona
[] Arkansas
[x] California
[x] Colorado
[] Connecticut
[] Delaware
[x] Florida
[x] Georgia
[] Hawaii
[x] Idaho
[x] Illinois
[x] Indiana
[x] Iowa
[x] Kansas
[x] Kentucky
[x] Louisiana
[ ] Maine
[] Maryland
[] Massachusetts
[x] Michigan
[x] Minnesota
[x] Mississippi
[x] Missouri
[] Montana
[x] Nebraska
[] Nevada
[] New Hampshire
[] New Jersey
[x] New Mexico
[x] New York
[x] North Carolina
[] North Dakota
[] Ohio
[x] Oklahoma
[x] Oregon
[] Pennsylvania
[] Rhode Island
[x] South Carolina
[x ] South Dakota
[x] Tennessee
[x] Texas
[] Utah
[] Vermont
[] Virginia
[x] Washington
[] West Virginia
[x] Wisconsin
[x] Wyoming

This is it.

2006-09-29T08:52:00.000-07:00

Today I'm packing up my desk and walking away from another learning experience. I have reached the end with my organization, and it's bittersweet. I had really hoped it would be a perfect fit. I thought I had the right things to contribute at the right time. I wanted this to be the job I would have until it was time to leave Tallahassee. I wanted a grown-up experience where I could have some longevity. I wanted it to work. I feel like I tried my best; I did what I could. But it just wasn't right, it simply wasn't meant to be. There's lots more to it than that, it's a complex issue. Lots of it is over my head. But I do know what it was - a great learning experience, an incredible opportunity, one many people my age and others at different stages in their career may never have. I am lucky, and hope I will continue to be lucky. My life is rich: I have a career I enjoy and that makes up one important part. I have a dear, loving husband who is my partner in crime and will be for life. I have a pet, so daily I experience the bonding between a human and another living, breathing creature. I have a great family - one who supports my decisions and does their best to understand my situations. And last, but certainly not least, I have great friends and mentors. Work is important. It's how we spend many of our working hours. But without the other pieces to the puzzle, my life would be a lot less full. I'm excited about my freedom from work for a few days (or weeks? Who knows...) and look forward to filling my time with other activities. At least for now.

So this is adulthood.

2006-09-26T05:07:00.000-07:00

I woke up early this morning, after a short night, thanks to a long evening of vacuuming and house tidying. I got up, walked the dog and took I shower. I've pulled on my Spanx (basically a modern-day girdle popularized by Oprah), zipped up my black pencil skirt and pulled on its matching blazer. I'm wearing heels and carrying a grown-up handbag. I'm going on a job interview today, and maybe to a job fair. I am handing over a few critical details of my current (almost former - as of this coming Friday) job to another person, stepping back and getting ready to let go. I guess this is what it's like to be a grown-up. Earlier today I was wondering when the good stuff starts, and then I got to thinking.

I'm cleaning the house that I rent - where I live with my husband. That's pretty cool. I have a dog. I am responsible enough to care for another breathing creature. I exercised, and then enhanced my work with Spandex. I'm wearing a black suit, but with a navy blue top, a little trendy and a little scary for a person who has always objected to those two colors used in any combo. Soon I'll be hopping in my little car - the one I picked out, bargained for and learned to drive to grab a Starbuck's before I go to work at a gig that hasn't worked out, but has been a real learning experience. Sometimes being an adult sucks, and sometimes it doesn't seem so bad. Weird, but not so bad. But I'll still be hanging around waiting for the really good stuff to start...

Happy? Sad? Can't tell.

2006-09-19T06:17:00.000-07:00

The past couple of weeks have been pretty wild. Since I submitted my letter of resignation from my job two Wednesdays ago some things have moved quickly while others have drug along. I am sad to be leaving the current job - but it's just not working. And it has been an interesting experience to see how sometimes things just don't work out. It's not some sort of huge judgement about me or about them, it's just that it didn't work. And I'm convinced that I didn't fail them. All of this has been a little nutty. I have not identified a new gig yet (however do have a prospect that I am very excited about, but hate to putall the eggs in one basket)! That no job thing is pretty scary, but I also don't want to push myself into the wrong thing. Adulthood is hard. Sometimes I wouldn't mind cashing it all in and returning to kindegarten. But I guess that's not how it works. I am happy that I have made the decision that I know is right for me, but I am sad because my grand master plan didn't pan and now I have to find another option.

What's really hard for me --- and I mean a lot more difficult than I would have liked --- is that all of this is happening this fall. Autumn is by far my favorite time of year, though not so much here in Florida because it won't feel like autumn until much later. Yesterday I wore a pair of corduroy pants and today wool gauchos (with a rust colored vest --- also a little like autumn) wishing that it would feel like fall here. In Iowa today it's going to be in the 50s, autumn indeed, while here in the deep South it'll still be near 90. Don't know why I find this so depressing but somehow I do. There's always a bright side, though, and here that's the fact that there will be no snow when my Iowa parents and pals are truding through the white stuff.

Well, I better get back to it --- or maybe go get some coffee to try and help me through.

The harder they try, the less I buy.

2006-09-15T06:59:00.000-07:00

Last week I was disgusted to see Christmas displays in several of my favorite stores. It is literally the week after Labor Day and already the spirit of holiday greed has been put before the consumer. Last year I bought less stuff than ever before. I can practically list each gift I bought. I sold a bunch of stuff on eBay to finance what little I did - just a gift per person, with the exception of my husband. We did buy lots of gifts for friends, but as I've mentioned before, I view many of my Tallahassee pals as extended family. It's a special relationship to be sure. Everytime I walk past a plastic tablecloth printed with snowmen and Santas or see a displayed Christmas tree ornament between now and November, I'm sure to become more and more irritated. Already I'm feeling Charlie-Brown-Christmas-y. When the time is right, I'll remember what it's all about. For now I'm just going to try and enjoy my autumn.