Lifted this one from Gunfighter, who lifted it from someone else, who probably lifted it from someone else, who lifted it from someone . . .
1. Where is your cell phone? Charger
2. Your significant other? Away
3. Your hair? Tight
4. Your mother? Indescribable
5. Your father? Stranger
6. Your favorite time of day? Nap
7. Your dream last night? Heh?
8. Your favorite drink? Martini
9. Your dream goal? Solvency
10.The room you're in? Living
11. Your ex? Confused
12. Your fear? Heights
13. Where do you want to be in 6 years? Together
14. What are you not? Asleep
15. Your favorite meal? Tasty
16. One of your wish list items? Camera
17. The last thing you did? Flirt
18. Where you grew up? Here
19.What are you wearing? Cotton
20. Your TV is? On
21. Your pets? Furry
22. Your computer? Works
23. Your life? Protracted
24. Your mood? Light
25. Missing someone? Neeeeta
26. Your car? Daughter's
27. Something you're not wearing? Gown
28. Favorite store? Small
29. Your summer? Paused
30.Your favorite colour? BLUE
31. When is the last time you laughed? Today
32. When is the last time you cried? Tuesday
33. Your health? Improved
34. Your children? Loquacious
35. Your future? Mobile
36. Your beliefs? Strong
37. Young or Old? Middle
38. Your image? Prevalent
39. Your appearance? Mixed
40. Would you live your life over again, knowing what you know? Heartbeat
Monday, July 28, 2008
Sunday, July 27, 2008
After
Mom: You got your hair cut! It's CUT!
Yes, I got my hair cut. The after is even shorter than before and my mother is even taken with the result. Hair, always a big deal around these parts, has somehow become even bigger. Both she and my daughter buy hair and pay someone (or enlist me) to sew, weave, glue or braid the purchased hair into their own. Though mom's more limited budget and condition has her resorting to wigs more often these days.
Still, given the givens, the reactions (my daughter isn't quite as bothered by the boy cut as she is with the gray) were pretty tame. Mom is trying on a more laid-back, don't sweat the small stuff, persona. Some days it is a good fit, some days not. And though we still haven't had that conversation, sharing pics and talk of Neta is not as hair-raising as it might have been times ago.
Times go by.
Thursday, July 24, 2008
Before
I got my hair cut just about a month ago. It is time for another. I'll go either Friday evening or Saturday morning. I haven't decided. Much will depend on how Friday progresses. If it is anything like Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday or today, then Saturday a.m. early, is the day.
One of my daughter's co-workers told her that Mamma Mia was worth seeing, that it was the perfect mother daughter film and that she and I certainly should go. My daughter who had zero interest in seeing this flick now is all, "we have to go!" 
Pete, the cat! Continues to rouse the house at 4:30 (or so) in search of "cat crack" as it has come to be known. Since moving into the bedroom his ministrations don't disturb. . . too much. Diamond dog had been bothered by a wee bit of a limp. A diet designed to help her shed some pounds combined with some hip and joint tabs have helped steady her peppy steps.
One of my daughter's co-workers told her that Mamma Mia was worth seeing, that it was the perfect mother daughter film and that she and I certainly should go. My daughter who had zero interest in seeing this flick now is all, "we have to go!" 
Pete, the cat! Continues to rouse the house at 4:30 (or so) in search of "cat crack" as it has come to be known. Since moving into the bedroom his ministrations don't disturb. . . too much. Diamond dog had been bothered by a wee bit of a limp. A diet designed to help her shed some pounds combined with some hip and joint tabs have helped steady her peppy steps.
I'm adjusting to my new glasses. It isn't fun. Pete, the cat! and I joined Diamond dog is the pound shedding camp. We are pleased.
Monday, July 21, 2008
Hair Today
Donald at my local Staples ™ likes my haircut. He thinks it is neat. Obviously, I agree with him, I think it is neat too. Norman follows my instructions pretty much each time now and what I get is a nice, neat low cut and line.
It will stay neat for about a month. I must however, get myself into Norman’s chair every 3—4 weeks, otherwise Norman is challenged to re-create the look I desire.
Donald at my local Staples ™ wonders if the salt and peppering is natural or manufactured.
Make my hair gray, on purpose? Uhm, no. The salt and pepper pattern is a natural occurrence. In fact, until a few months ago I was covering all gray (and black) hairs with a reddish-brown dye (had been for years).
Donald likes the salt and pepper pattern. My daughter doesn’t like any gray on my head. Neta doesn’t mind one way or the other, my son and my mother haven’t chimed in on the color. Though my mother continues to hate that it is soooo short.
I’m haven't decided whether I like the salting and peppering. However, I have decided to leave it alone, save the cuts.
I will let it gray, where it may. For now, anyway.
It will stay neat for about a month. I must however, get myself into Norman’s chair every 3—4 weeks, otherwise Norman is challenged to re-create the look I desire.
Donald at my local Staples ™ wonders if the salt and peppering is natural or manufactured.
Make my hair gray, on purpose? Uhm, no. The salt and pepper pattern is a natural occurrence. In fact, until a few months ago I was covering all gray (and black) hairs with a reddish-brown dye (had been for years).
Donald likes the salt and pepper pattern. My daughter doesn’t like any gray on my head. Neta doesn’t mind one way or the other, my son and my mother haven’t chimed in on the color. Though my mother continues to hate that it is soooo short.
I’m haven't decided whether I like the salting and peppering. However, I have decided to leave it alone, save the cuts.
I will let it gray, where it may. For now, anyway.
Thursday, July 17, 2008
LunchAble (?)
More often than not I take lunch at my desk. It’s too expensive and too contrary to my ultimate health goals to eat at any of the local spots near the job-site. So, I eat my lunch, at my desk.
Often, in the summer especially, my lunch consists of some kind of salad. Usually the salad is vegetable, sometimes fruit, and on one occasion and combination of the two. I don’t really like mandarin oranges as part of a mostly vegetable salad, I found. But apples, yes.
Sometimes I bring leftovers from dinner the previous evening. Today was leftover day. A yummy meatloaf, pasta shells and crinkle cut carrots with a bit of shredded cheddar melted throughout.
The microwave dinged and I went to collect the meal I’d been looking forward to all morning. There were hot peppers in the fridge from the lunch we had brought in for a resigning co-worker, I grabbed those from the fridge.
I cleared my desk of important papers, pulled out my newspaper crossword and began to eat and work the puzzle. The first bite…oh my, better last night. The peppers make all the difference. The second bi… oh my, here’s where I realize I’d forgotten my bib.
I’m wearing what was a clean white shirt.
Often, in the summer especially, my lunch consists of some kind of salad. Usually the salad is vegetable, sometimes fruit, and on one occasion and combination of the two. I don’t really like mandarin oranges as part of a mostly vegetable salad, I found. But apples, yes.
Sometimes I bring leftovers from dinner the previous evening. Today was leftover day. A yummy meatloaf, pasta shells and crinkle cut carrots with a bit of shredded cheddar melted throughout.
The microwave dinged and I went to collect the meal I’d been looking forward to all morning. There were hot peppers in the fridge from the lunch we had brought in for a resigning co-worker, I grabbed those from the fridge.
I cleared my desk of important papers, pulled out my newspaper crossword and began to eat and work the puzzle. The first bite…oh my, better last night. The peppers make all the difference. The second bi… oh my, here’s where I realize I’d forgotten my bib.
I’m wearing what was a clean white shirt.
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Heard Before Read
I was sitting in an office today after work, helping daughter wade through all that is involved in buying her first car, well, not really first but first with, you know, financing. The forms, forms and even more forms, oh my, the forms.
She's looking for another (2nd) job, she has a line on an animal hospital looking for a vet tech and since she works part-time with one of the vets on staff there, she's hopeful that she'll get the position.
These moves all move her closer to moving out. onward and upward toward her truly adult self. It is all very good and a little scary.
Just a bit over a year ago M moved out. He's had an interesting, productive, trying, exhilarating, frustrating and successful year. As he's recently secured a more secure job, he'll be looking for a new apartment soon.
Overall I'm as excited for them as they navigate a whole new slew of firsts as I was when they were learning to talk, walk, run and such. But I am also afraid sometimes.
Today while I was in the office helping D, M called and told me all about his adventure getting home from work. He's fine (better than I would be if I had to be evacuated from a train, even with the electricity turned off) and for him, this is just another "life in the city" story.
For me it was a flash of wishing he was still staging battles among his action figures in the middle of the living room.
She's looking for another (2nd) job, she has a line on an animal hospital looking for a vet tech and since she works part-time with one of the vets on staff there, she's hopeful that she'll get the position.
These moves all move her closer to moving out. onward and upward toward her truly adult self. It is all very good and a little scary.
Just a bit over a year ago M moved out. He's had an interesting, productive, trying, exhilarating, frustrating and successful year. As he's recently secured a more secure job, he'll be looking for a new apartment soon.
Overall I'm as excited for them as they navigate a whole new slew of firsts as I was when they were learning to talk, walk, run and such. But I am also afraid sometimes.
Today while I was in the office helping D, M called and told me all about his adventure getting home from work. He's fine (better than I would be if I had to be evacuated from a train, even with the electricity turned off) and for him, this is just another "life in the city" story.
For me it was a flash of wishing he was still staging battles among his action figures in the middle of the living room.
Sunday, July 13, 2008
Continuation
18. Who was the last person you emailed? RC
19. Ever go camping? Are you nucking futs? That is to say, no, I've never been camping.
20. Do you have a tan? I was born with a tan. Well, truth be told, not fully. Family lore relates that it took a few days for the color on my fingers and toes to appear all the way to their respective tips.
21. Do you drink your soda with a straw? Presuming, of course, that I drink soda which I so very rarely do. On those few occasions, no, I do not use a straw.
22. What did your last IM say? It said, "success!! 1 wheat left, I nabbed it!!"
23. Are you some one's best friend? Yes, I've been told by two individuals that I am indeed their best friend. I feel very lucky to have both of them in my life.
24. What are you doing tomorrow? That sounds eerily like my mother's, "what's on your agenda for tomorrow?" Well, work. It will be Monday and I will be working from around 8 am to 4:55 pm. Beyond that, who knows?
25. Where is your mom right now? Right this second, I hope she's in bed in her apartment. Her apartment is about a mile away from my humble abode.
26. Look to your left, what do you see? My printer and a shelving unit holding various stuffed animals, digital camera & printer dock, photos, books, greeting cards and mementos.
27. What color is your watch? Black and silver
28. What do you think of when you think of Australia? "The Crocodile Hunter" and kangaroos
29. Would you consider plastic surgery? Plastic surgery makes me think...operations on Tupperware. Would I consider cosmetic surgery? Generally speaking, no.
30. What is your birthstone? Ruby
31. Do you go in a fast food place or just hit the drive-thru? Well, since I don't have a car and most fast food management frowns upon walking or riding your bicycle through the drive-thru, I go inside. Though, I tend to stay away from fast food joints, as a general rule of thumb. Some weeks, I am weak.
32. How many kids do you want? I have all I've ever wanted, if I did in fact, want them. I don't recall ever really having the thought..."I want kids" but I suppose as they are, you know, here, I must have, if even for an instant, wanted. Of course after having had them, I can't imagine life without them. Do I want any more? No, I don't. Grandchildren, perhaps.
33. Do you have a dog? Technically she's the daughter's dog, but I take turns at feeding, walking, petting and loving, so yes, I do have a Diamond of a dog.
34. Last person you talked to on the phone? Neta. It's always Neta.
35. Have you ever met anyone famous? No, not really.
36. Any plans today? Well, today is pretty much done. I plan to go to bed in about an hour.
37. How many states have you lived in? Just the one, this one, Illinois.
38. Ever to go college? Yes, for awhile. The plan is to continue, someday.
39. Where are you right now? At home, in my "corner office" listening to music, sipping a cocktail and completing this exercise.
40. Biggest annoyance in your life right now? That I'll probably finish my cocktail before I finish this post.
41. Last song listened to? This.
42. Favorite pair of shoes you wear all time time? Tan Vans (not quite, but close) that I try to convince myself go with everything. They don't really, but they are soooo comfortable.
43. Are you allergic to anything? Hmmm...weird, Neta asked me this question (specifically related to food(s) though, just this evening. I did have allergies to citric acid and citrus fruits. I think I still do, to a degree but they've lessened as I've gotten older.
44. Are you jealous of anyone? No, not really.
45. Is anyone jealous of you? Beats me, I don't know why anyone would be.
46. What time is it? 11:51 p.m.
47. Do any of your friends have children? Nearly all of my friends have children / adults who were once children. Neta (& my own son and daughter) are about the only people I know (besides co-workers and at least one family member) who don't have children.
48. Do you eat healthy? Generally, save the weak moments.
49. What do you usually do during the day? I don my super-hero costume and scour the world looking for wrongs to right. During the slow times I scour my insurance company's dentist directory looking for a new dentist.
50. Do you hate anyone right now? No. In my experience hate punishes the hater more than the hatee.There are much more constructive uses of my time and energies. Present exercise excluded. I thought for a long time that I hated my father ( & at various points, my brothers) but I don't think I ever really did.
51. Do you use the word hello daily? Why, yes, as a matter of fact, I do.
52. How old will you be turning on your next birthday? 48. Forty-eight. 4 8 I'll be turning 48 in 16 days. Yum, as I plan to have cake, a good cake.
53. Have you ever been to Six Flags? Yes, even before (the one here in Illinois) was called Six Flags. I never enjoyed amusement parks as a child and if not for my own kids would likely have not stepped into another as an adult.
54. How did you get one of your scars? A few are carry overs from childhood. There were / are the obligatory bicycle and playground falls. I have a scar on my left index finger from an adult mishap with a knife. I also have a scar on my back from a lipoma removal.
Whew done, except for the questions posed in the comments from Post 358, What sound do I hear right now? The music and the jingling of the Diamond's tags. What bug do I hate the most? I'm not really freaked out by bugs, I do get the heebie jeebies when I see creepie crawlies, but not so much that I can't dispatch them. I suppose if I had to pick...spiders, centipedes and millipedes would take the prize.
And...am I going to have a nice weekend? Well, I did. It wasn't deliriously wicked, but it was peaceful and chock full of sporting events. I even got to see my daughter play soccer, what a treat!
Ta ta for now.
19. Ever go camping? Are you nucking futs? That is to say, no, I've never been camping.
20. Do you have a tan? I was born with a tan. Well, truth be told, not fully. Family lore relates that it took a few days for the color on my fingers and toes to appear all the way to their respective tips.
21. Do you drink your soda with a straw? Presuming, of course, that I drink soda which I so very rarely do. On those few occasions, no, I do not use a straw.
22. What did your last IM say? It said, "success!! 1 wheat left, I nabbed it!!"
23. Are you some one's best friend? Yes, I've been told by two individuals that I am indeed their best friend. I feel very lucky to have both of them in my life.
24. What are you doing tomorrow? That sounds eerily like my mother's, "what's on your agenda for tomorrow?" Well, work. It will be Monday and I will be working from around 8 am to 4:55 pm. Beyond that, who knows?
25. Where is your mom right now? Right this second, I hope she's in bed in her apartment. Her apartment is about a mile away from my humble abode.
26. Look to your left, what do you see? My printer and a shelving unit holding various stuffed animals, digital camera & printer dock, photos, books, greeting cards and mementos.
27. What color is your watch? Black and silver
28. What do you think of when you think of Australia? "The Crocodile Hunter" and kangaroos
29. Would you consider plastic surgery? Plastic surgery makes me think...operations on Tupperware. Would I consider cosmetic surgery? Generally speaking, no.
30. What is your birthstone? Ruby
31. Do you go in a fast food place or just hit the drive-thru? Well, since I don't have a car and most fast food management frowns upon walking or riding your bicycle through the drive-thru, I go inside. Though, I tend to stay away from fast food joints, as a general rule of thumb. Some weeks, I am weak.
32. How many kids do you want? I have all I've ever wanted, if I did in fact, want them. I don't recall ever really having the thought..."I want kids" but I suppose as they are, you know, here, I must have, if even for an instant, wanted. Of course after having had them, I can't imagine life without them. Do I want any more? No, I don't. Grandchildren, perhaps.
33. Do you have a dog? Technically she's the daughter's dog, but I take turns at feeding, walking, petting and loving, so yes, I do have a Diamond of a dog.
34. Last person you talked to on the phone? Neta. It's always Neta.
35. Have you ever met anyone famous? No, not really.
36. Any plans today? Well, today is pretty much done. I plan to go to bed in about an hour.
37. How many states have you lived in? Just the one, this one, Illinois.
38. Ever to go college? Yes, for awhile. The plan is to continue, someday.
39. Where are you right now? At home, in my "corner office" listening to music, sipping a cocktail and completing this exercise.
40. Biggest annoyance in your life right now? That I'll probably finish my cocktail before I finish this post.
41. Last song listened to? This.
42. Favorite pair of shoes you wear all time time? Tan Vans (not quite, but close) that I try to convince myself go with everything. They don't really, but they are soooo comfortable.
43. Are you allergic to anything? Hmmm...weird, Neta asked me this question (specifically related to food(s) though, just this evening. I did have allergies to citric acid and citrus fruits. I think I still do, to a degree but they've lessened as I've gotten older.
44. Are you jealous of anyone? No, not really.
45. Is anyone jealous of you? Beats me, I don't know why anyone would be.
46. What time is it? 11:51 p.m.
47. Do any of your friends have children? Nearly all of my friends have children / adults who were once children. Neta (& my own son and daughter) are about the only people I know (besides co-workers and at least one family member) who don't have children.
48. Do you eat healthy? Generally, save the weak moments.
49. What do you usually do during the day? I don my super-hero costume and scour the world looking for wrongs to right. During the slow times I scour my insurance company's dentist directory looking for a new dentist.
50. Do you hate anyone right now? No. In my experience hate punishes the hater more than the hatee.There are much more constructive uses of my time and energies. Present exercise excluded. I thought for a long time that I hated my father ( & at various points, my brothers) but I don't think I ever really did.
51. Do you use the word hello daily? Why, yes, as a matter of fact, I do.
52. How old will you be turning on your next birthday? 48. Forty-eight. 4 8 I'll be turning 48 in 16 days. Yum, as I plan to have cake, a good cake.
53. Have you ever been to Six Flags? Yes, even before (the one here in Illinois) was called Six Flags. I never enjoyed amusement parks as a child and if not for my own kids would likely have not stepped into another as an adult.
54. How did you get one of your scars? A few are carry overs from childhood. There were / are the obligatory bicycle and playground falls. I have a scar on my left index finger from an adult mishap with a knife. I also have a scar on my back from a lipoma removal.
Whew done, except for the questions posed in the comments from Post 358, What sound do I hear right now? The music and the jingling of the Diamond's tags. What bug do I hate the most? I'm not really freaked out by bugs, I do get the heebie jeebies when I see creepie crawlies, but not so much that I can't dispatch them. I suppose if I had to pick...spiders, centipedes and millipedes would take the prize.
And...am I going to have a nice weekend? Well, I did. It wasn't deliriously wicked, but it was peaceful and chock full of sporting events. I even got to see my daughter play soccer, what a treat!
Ta ta for now.
Friday, July 11, 2008
Post 358
I lifted this from TSOL because...well, just because.
1. What is in the back seat of your car right now? Like Annelle I don't have a car. However, I have been described as having junk in the trunk.
2. When was the last time you threw up? Hmmmm....I don't remember. It's been quite awhile. Pete, the cat! threw up last week.
3. What is your favorite curse word? SHIT. Because it is the first (and probably only) curse word my mother heard me say. I was young and pretending to being lured to cutting school/class. Some building bully (we lived in a housing project)asked challenged if I was going to school. I sneered, "SHIT NO!" My mother snatched open a door I hadn't known she was standing behind and pulled me inside more to get me away from the bully than to punish me for cursing, I think. My older brother laughed at my use of shit in that way. He said, "You should have said "Fuck No!" He got slapped. I went to school.
4. Name 3 people who made you smile today? Smile...I flat out laughed with Neta and D today as I do many days while talking with them. I smiled at the thought of this being the final day for one of my most annoying co-workers.
5. What were you dong at 8 a.m. this morning? Having started my work day some 10 minutes prior, I had booted up the computer, was checking emails, eating my boiled eggs and moving on to my apple and sipping some coffee.
6. What were you doing 30 minutes ago? Signing checks and forwarding them for the second signature prior to mailing.
7. What will you be doing 3 hours from now? Sofa sittin', feet up, sippin' a beer, most likely.
8. Have you ever been to a strip club? Nope
9. What is the last thing you said aloud? "Bring it On." to Neta, who was on the phone, teasing me.
10. What is the best ice cream flavor? Is this a trick question? Any kind of chocolate. Though Neta and I had a rainbow w/fruit waffle cone at the Taste that might just allow me to forget that I'm a recovering chocoholic. Yum.
11. What was the last thing you had to drink? tap water
12. :::crickets:::
13. What was the last thing you ate? -hehehehe- Sorry, mind still on Neta's teasing. Seriously, a roast beef & turkey sub sandwich.
14. Have you bought any new clothing items this week? No, not this week. Not last week, likely not next week. But the week after...I have an anniversary party to attend on 8/2. I need something new for that, but I don't know what. I am NOT looking forward to shopping. I really DO NOT like shopping. Especially for clothes. Though not as traumatized by the thought of it as I once was, still...
15. When was the last time you ran? Ran? Ran what? Myself? Sheesh...1997 maybe? No, I have probably engaged in some kind of hurry step, close to a run, maybe a couple, three weeks ago? Maybe? Generally...I. Don't. Run. Ouch. Hurts just thinking about it.
16. What is the last sporting event you watched? I fell asleep on the sofa watching Sacramento vs LA Sparks. The Monarchs were winning. I woke up to Chivas vs LA Galaxy. Chivas was winning. I watched maybe another 5 minutes, then went to bed.
17. :::crickets::::
Does anyone know what questions 12 and 17 -were- ever? I was going to insert my own questions, but instead I'll put it out to you ladies (guys too if there are any out there), anything you'd like to ask (besides...who will & when re: moving, that is currently under advisement), fire away. There are however, many more questions to this thing, but I must leave this now as I've co-opted enough work minutes to this exorcise, I'll pick it up some time later.
Happy Friday. Have a deliriously wicked weekend, if you dare.
1. What is in the back seat of your car right now? Like Annelle I don't have a car. However, I have been described as having junk in the trunk.
2. When was the last time you threw up? Hmmmm....I don't remember. It's been quite awhile. Pete, the cat! threw up last week.
3. What is your favorite curse word? SHIT. Because it is the first (and probably only) curse word my mother heard me say. I was young and pretending to being lured to cutting school/class. Some building bully (we lived in a housing project)
4. Name 3 people who made you smile today? Smile...I flat out laughed with Neta and D today as I do many days while talking with them. I smiled at the thought of this being the final day for one of my most annoying co-workers.
5. What were you dong at 8 a.m. this morning? Having started my work day some 10 minutes prior, I had booted up the computer, was checking emails, eating my boiled eggs and moving on to my apple and sipping some coffee.
6. What were you doing 30 minutes ago? Signing checks and forwarding them for the second signature prior to mailing.
7. What will you be doing 3 hours from now? Sofa sittin', feet up, sippin' a beer, most likely.
8. Have you ever been to a strip club? Nope
9. What is the last thing you said aloud? "Bring it On." to Neta, who was on the phone, teasing me.
10. What is the best ice cream flavor? Is this a trick question? Any kind of chocolate. Though Neta and I had a rainbow w/fruit waffle cone at the Taste that might just allow me to forget that I'm a recovering chocoholic. Yum.
11. What was the last thing you had to drink? tap water
12. :::crickets:::
13. What was the last thing you ate? -hehehehe- Sorry, mind still on Neta's teasing. Seriously, a roast beef & turkey sub sandwich.
14. Have you bought any new clothing items this week? No, not this week. Not last week, likely not next week. But the week after...I have an anniversary party to attend on 8/2. I need something new for that, but I don't know what. I am NOT looking forward to shopping. I really DO NOT like shopping. Especially for clothes. Though not as traumatized by the thought of it as I once was, still...
15. When was the last time you ran? Ran? Ran what? Myself? Sheesh...1997 maybe? No, I have probably engaged in some kind of hurry step, close to a run, maybe a couple, three weeks ago? Maybe? Generally...I. Don't. Run. Ouch. Hurts just thinking about it.
16. What is the last sporting event you watched? I fell asleep on the sofa watching Sacramento vs LA Sparks. The Monarchs were winning. I woke up to Chivas vs LA Galaxy. Chivas was winning. I watched maybe another 5 minutes, then went to bed.
17. :::crickets::::
Does anyone know what questions 12 and 17 -were- ever? I was going to insert my own questions, but instead I'll put it out to you ladies (guys too if there are any out there), anything you'd like to ask (besides...who will & when re: moving, that is currently under advisement), fire away. There are however, many more questions to this thing, but I must leave this now as I've co-opted enough work minutes to this exorcise, I'll pick it up some time later.
Happy Friday. Have a deliriously wicked weekend, if you dare.
Thursday, July 10, 2008
10:40 p.m.
I was on the floor. I don’t know why, really, I continue to get on the floor to lounge. Being on the floor is comfortable enough, depending on certain conditions and circumstances. It is the getting off the floor that presents the challenges and various aches and pains. It takes nearly forever and sometimes forever and a day to roll up to a standing position.
Anyway, I was on the floor when the phone rang. It was a distinctive ring so I knew the caller to be mom. (Aside: Recently, I’d discovered that somehow my mom’s assigned ring tone had been changed to mimic Neta’s. I’d answered a –mom- call by saying, “hey, baby love.” I recovered quickly enough I don’t think she noticed, much.)
Anyway, mom called at 10:40 p.m. last night and after confirming that I was not in bed (an inference as to how long it took to answer the phone) told me that she’d spoken with M and, “he didn’t sound good.” I was about to opine that he was probably tired, when her call waiting beeped and she excused herself to answer the other call.
While she was gone, I was thinking that I should probably just go to bed, I was mostly dozing anyway, Neta and I had already talked and certainly there wasn’t anything compelling on the tube. I was shutting things down when mom returned to say she’d talk to me later. Trumped again.
This morning I called M just to confirm that his “not sounding good” was in fact, fatigue. It was. His long work day was topped off by a very hastily planned and very long photo shoot, publicity shots for a new play he’s doing. He relayed that he’d spoken with mom this morning as well. She got started at about 7:30, warning him off the planned meeting with the (former?) gf. Mom was concerned that gf could be trying to “set him up.” For what, neither of us could figure. Mom tossed around some Sodom and Gomorrah references at which point, M begged off, citing that work beckoned.
I’m quite sure that I haven’t heard the last of these warnings or other tidbits related to the (former?) gf. However, I am sure that I won’t be getting back on the floor anytime soon.
It has not been a stellar day and work is not helping, at all.
Anyway, I was on the floor when the phone rang. It was a distinctive ring so I knew the caller to be mom. (Aside: Recently, I’d discovered that somehow my mom’s assigned ring tone had been changed to mimic Neta’s. I’d answered a –mom- call by saying, “hey, baby love.” I recovered quickly enough I don’t think she noticed, much.)
Anyway, mom called at 10:40 p.m. last night and after confirming that I was not in bed (an inference as to how long it took to answer the phone) told me that she’d spoken with M and, “he didn’t sound good.” I was about to opine that he was probably tired, when her call waiting beeped and she excused herself to answer the other call.
While she was gone, I was thinking that I should probably just go to bed, I was mostly dozing anyway, Neta and I had already talked and certainly there wasn’t anything compelling on the tube. I was shutting things down when mom returned to say she’d talk to me later. Trumped again.
This morning I called M just to confirm that his “not sounding good” was in fact, fatigue. It was. His long work day was topped off by a very hastily planned and very long photo shoot, publicity shots for a new play he’s doing. He relayed that he’d spoken with mom this morning as well. She got started at about 7:30, warning him off the planned meeting with the (former?) gf. Mom was concerned that gf could be trying to “set him up.” For what, neither of us could figure. Mom tossed around some Sodom and Gomorrah references at which point, M begged off, citing that work beckoned.
I’m quite sure that I haven’t heard the last of these warnings or other tidbits related to the (former?) gf. However, I am sure that I won’t be getting back on the floor anytime soon.
It has not been a stellar day and work is not helping, at all.
Tuesday, July 08, 2008
Time Gone By, Slowly
As usual I’ve had a difficult time adjusting to life after Neta. This time made more difficult by the fact that she was here, in my space(s). Gracing them, for sure, while she was here, haunting them now that she’s gone.
I only thought I knew how she felt when I was doing the leaving.
Her laughter, my very favorite of her sounds, resonates throughout. Her hair (the thought of it) tickles my nose at night. Her scent lingeres on pillowcases I’ve been reluctant to launder.
It’s been hard.
One might think that M’s relationship issues, crazy shit at work, mom’s concerns about the social security administration being out to get her, D’s not-having a-car woes, my own on-going battle with weight-fullness, killer cramps, slightly throbbing knees and an oddly painful right heel would keep me occupied enough, keep my mind from wandering back to the void, would keep me from losing every thought except this: Neta was here and now she isn't.
If you think any of that has kept my mind off missing her royally, think again.
I only thought I knew how she felt when I was doing the leaving.
Her laughter, my very favorite of her sounds, resonates throughout. Her hair (the thought of it) tickles my nose at night. Her scent lingeres on pillowcases I’ve been reluctant to launder.
It’s been hard.
One might think that M’s relationship issues, crazy shit at work, mom’s concerns about the social security administration being out to get her, D’s not-having a-car woes, my own on-going battle with weight-fullness, killer cramps, slightly throbbing knees and an oddly painful right heel would keep me occupied enough, keep my mind from wandering back to the void, would keep me from losing every thought except this: Neta was here and now she isn't.
If you think any of that has kept my mind off missing her royally, think again.
Sunday, July 06, 2008
Change of Plan
The 4th holiday was to have included my son & his girlfriend, my daughter & her boyfriend, baked chicken, spaghetti, potato salad, corn on-the-cob and apple pie. He called around 2 p.m. and announced that they wouldn’t be coming over.
Son: I don’t think this is going to work out.
He broke it all down in the next two hours. I listened, commented and advised where I could.
More of the same came on Saturday. I was out running errands and doing laundry when he called the cell. He needed to work it all out in his head, in my ear.
Son: Save the spaghetti, I think I’ll be able to come through on Sunday.
The word came late (very late) Saturday night.
Son: Well, it’s done. She wasn’t interested in a slow down, it was all or nothing. She put my stuff and a box and asked me to leave. I’m walking home now. I feel . . . ok.
We talked for three hours late Saturday night/ early Sunday morning. I learned more about what he felt their problems were and what he’d tried to work through them. I listened, commented and re-assured where I could.
He didn’t come over on Sunday, so the spaghetti (and the pie) will be on ice.
PS...He called just before I clicked Publish Post-
Son: She called. She felt like things spun out of control and wonders if we can meet some time next week.
Son: I don’t think this is going to work out.
He broke it all down in the next two hours. I listened, commented and advised where I could.
More of the same came on Saturday. I was out running errands and doing laundry when he called the cell. He needed to work it all out in his head, in my ear.
Son: Save the spaghetti, I think I’ll be able to come through on Sunday.
The word came late (very late) Saturday night.
Son: Well, it’s done. She wasn’t interested in a slow down, it was all or nothing. She put my stuff and a box and asked me to leave. I’m walking home now. I feel . . . ok.
We talked for three hours late Saturday night/ early Sunday morning. I learned more about what he felt their problems were and what he’d tried to work through them. I listened, commented and re-assured where I could.
He didn’t come over on Sunday, so the spaghetti (and the pie) will be on ice.
PS...He called just before I clicked Publish Post- Son: She called. She felt like things spun out of control and wonders if we can meet some time next week.
Wednesday, July 02, 2008
A Few Pictures & Words
arrive, scent, lovely, bags, view, hotel, room, comfy, martini, olives stuffed with bleu cheese, Pride, parade, taste fest, fun, smiles, sun, walking, trains, buses, crowds, quiet, son, loud, daughter, pina colada, margarita, ambitious (too), tired, sleep, buff, snore, dog, cat, tacos, spicy, rainbow ice cream, fruit, coconut rice, Chicago, border, worries, none, deep dish pizza, lost, found, knees, tendons, pain, tears, laughter, dancing, thumpa thumpa, Roscoe’s, boys town, more, less, pictures, cook, order, donuts, iced coffee, patience, lack thereof, showers, home, where, don't, go, want, need, happy, sad, hugs, kisses, holding hands & more…again. Soon. Please.
Love. Supreme.
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
I Confess
I’m nervous about Neta’s visit.
When the idea originally germinated it didn’t seem like a real possibility for many reasons. For a time she’d labored over the idea that I didn’t want her here. I have, from the very first time I visited her, dreamt of her coming to visit me here. Though, I must confess, I probably gave off vibes to indicate otherwise.
As this germinated idea began to take root and we decided to just go with it, damn all the work, damn all the details, damn all the…everything, I got beyond excited about the prospect. Yet I confess I got anxious. I also got nervous. Anxious over all there was to accomplish.
The nervousness exists on many fronts.
During one of our email sessions today I was on a rant about work. We’re recruiting and the interview process is, well, in a word, stupid. On and on about this I went. Neta’s final message back to me said in essence…just think, in a few days, I’ll be there. We’ll get to the hotel, un-wind with a de-stressing cocktail and relax. Relax. Relax. And oh yeah, we’ll eat and have sex too! So, F*k ‘em all. So, I am forgetting about work for now. I’m in full preparing, waiting and dreaming of Neta mode. Saturday afternoon cannot come soon enough. I wish it would.
Still, I confess to being nervous. However, I’m getting less so as the hours tick away.
When the idea originally germinated it didn’t seem like a real possibility for many reasons. For a time she’d labored over the idea that I didn’t want her here. I have, from the very first time I visited her, dreamt of her coming to visit me here. Though, I must confess, I probably gave off vibes to indicate otherwise.
As this germinated idea began to take root and we decided to just go with it, damn all the work, damn all the details, damn all the…everything, I got beyond excited about the prospect. Yet I confess I got anxious. I also got nervous. Anxious over all there was to accomplish.
The nervousness exists on many fronts.
During one of our email sessions today I was on a rant about work. We’re recruiting and the interview process is, well, in a word, stupid. On and on about this I went. Neta’s final message back to me said in essence…just think, in a few days, I’ll be there. We’ll get to the hotel, un-wind with a de-stressing cocktail and relax. Relax. Relax. And oh yeah, we’ll eat and have sex too! So, F*k ‘em all. So, I am forgetting about work for now. I’m in full preparing, waiting and dreaming of Neta mode. Saturday afternoon cannot come soon enough. I wish it would.
Still, I confess to being nervous. However, I’m getting less so as the hours tick away.
Friday, June 20, 2008
Predictable
Fade In:
The apartment isn’t shut down for the night yet at just a shade beyond 10 p.m. The alarm is armed but the computer is still up and a lamp continues to burn. Stretched out on the bed/sofa, sipping on daughter’s version of a Pena Colada, waiting for Neta to call, I tune in Logo’s sanitized version of QAF.
Then I'm out.
The next conscious moment comes at 2:30 a.m. I’m not sure what woke me, probably the thumpa thumpa of the QAF re-run being broadcast at that time. I do a walk-thru, making sure all is well, use the bathroom and shut down the computer. I realize I’d not spoken to Neta, so I call.
Neta: Hey baby, what are you doing up?
Me: Not up, really. I slept and something woke me up.
Neta: Well, by the time it slowed down enough for me to call you, it was late and I didn’t want to wake you.
Me: Yeah, I know. I figured. I just wanted to call to say hey. And I love you, and goodnight.
Neta: Goodnight baby. I’ll call you in the morning.
I settle down to sleep a bit more. It won’t come, at least not until nearly 4 and even then it was fitful. The remnants of a dream niggled at my edges.
Neta, D and I were in a house. Not the condo, not Neta’s house. It was some other place. For some reason I’m up very early re-decorating. I’m moving a narrow baker’s rack type shelving full of pots and pans. For some reason I don’t remove the pans. I carry the laden shelving to some type of pantry without dropping a thing. Miraculous, I’m thinking, when my attention is diverted to a hole in a wall. The hole looks like an opening for the beginnings of a small window.
Curious, I look through. I see a lump. Suddenly the lump begins to lumber toward the opening, toward me. I don’t shriek until the lumbering lump takes a leap. I see that it is a HUGE striped tabby. I mean HUGE. Huge, but not like a real cat. This cat was a cartoon-y, puppet-like cat. The fur was felt. The eyes like buttons. But it was HUGE. And it moved. Slow and then fast. Only the head fit through the opening I realized after I’d backed into the shelving, crashing all the pots and pans. Neta appeared at the doorway to the pantry with a WHAT THE FUCK look on her face.
I got up, showered and such, fixed a cup of coffee, ate a watermelon slice and got dressed. D got up shortly after and when she was ready, we left.
D nearly spit out her iced coffee when I told her the dream on our way to the train.
The apartment isn’t shut down for the night yet at just a shade beyond 10 p.m. The alarm is armed but the computer is still up and a lamp continues to burn. Stretched out on the bed/sofa, sipping on daughter’s version of a Pena Colada, waiting for Neta to call, I tune in Logo’s sanitized version of QAF.
Then I'm out.
The next conscious moment comes at 2:30 a.m. I’m not sure what woke me, probably the thumpa thumpa of the QAF re-run being broadcast at that time. I do a walk-thru, making sure all is well, use the bathroom and shut down the computer. I realize I’d not spoken to Neta, so I call.
Neta: Hey baby, what are you doing up?
Me: Not up, really. I slept and something woke me up.
Neta: Well, by the time it slowed down enough for me to call you, it was late and I didn’t want to wake you.
Me: Yeah, I know. I figured. I just wanted to call to say hey. And I love you, and goodnight.
Neta: Goodnight baby. I’ll call you in the morning.
I settle down to sleep a bit more. It won’t come, at least not until nearly 4 and even then it was fitful. The remnants of a dream niggled at my edges.
Neta, D and I were in a house. Not the condo, not Neta’s house. It was some other place. For some reason I’m up very early re-decorating. I’m moving a narrow baker’s rack type shelving full of pots and pans. For some reason I don’t remove the pans. I carry the laden shelving to some type of pantry without dropping a thing. Miraculous, I’m thinking, when my attention is diverted to a hole in a wall. The hole looks like an opening for the beginnings of a small window.
Curious, I look through. I see a lump. Suddenly the lump begins to lumber toward the opening, toward me. I don’t shriek until the lumbering lump takes a leap. I see that it is a HUGE striped tabby. I mean HUGE. Huge, but not like a real cat. This cat was a cartoon-y, puppet-like cat. The fur was felt. The eyes like buttons. But it was HUGE. And it moved. Slow and then fast. Only the head fit through the opening I realized after I’d backed into the shelving, crashing all the pots and pans. Neta appeared at the doorway to the pantry with a WHAT THE FUCK look on her face.
I got up, showered and such, fixed a cup of coffee, ate a watermelon slice and got dressed. D got up shortly after and when she was ready, we left.
D nearly spit out her iced coffee when I told her the dream on our way to the train.
Thursday, June 19, 2008
Kinda Out of It
D: What happened to you?
Me: What you do mean? When?
D: Last night. You didn’t hear him?
Me: No. What did he do?
D: Your crazy cat was on his crazy cat shit last night. He scratched at my door, was meowing like…well, like crazy. When I opened my door he darted in here. I can’t sleep with him in the room so I led him out. He kept up the meowing and scratching for awhile.
Me: When was this?
D: Last night, about 11:30, 12:00 something like that, I think.
Me: Hmmmm…I didn’t hear a thing. He didn’t mess with me. He wasn’t even the reason I
woke up at 4:30 this morning. What did Diamond do?
D: Nothing, she slept through it too. I even called you “hey, hey, mom” and…nothing.
Me: Well, oh well. And by the way, my cat isn’t crazy. He’s just spirited.
D: Yeah, spirited, when he’s disrupting my sleep.
It is just Thursday. Bummer. Nine More Days.
Me: What you do mean? When?
D: Last night. You didn’t hear him?
Me: No. What did he do?
D: Your crazy cat was on his crazy cat shit last night. He scratched at my door, was meowing like…well, like crazy. When I opened my door he darted in here. I can’t sleep with him in the room so I led him out. He kept up the meowing and scratching for awhile.
Me: When was this?
D: Last night, about 11:30, 12:00 something like that, I think.
Me: Hmmmm…I didn’t hear a thing. He didn’t mess with me. He wasn’t even the reason I
woke up at 4:30 this morning. What did Diamond do?
D: Nothing, she slept through it too. I even called you “hey, hey, mom” and…nothing.
Me: Well, oh well. And by the way, my cat isn’t crazy. He’s just spirited.
D: Yeah, spirited, when he’s disrupting my sleep.
It is just Thursday. Bummer. Nine More Days.
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
Off Stride
How is it that a body can awake 2 ½ hours before it is time to leave for work and still forget to eat breakfast? And because said body forgot to eat breakfast she also forgot to take her meds (just a vitamin and water pill) not any big deal, but still, gives her a wonky feeling.Lunch will have to come earlier than usual. Ugh.
Sunday, June 15, 2008
Honor The Father
What do you say to a father with whom you have no relationship? To a man who alternated between ignoring and making loving declarations over the course of your 47 years? To a man who you’d like to call dad, but can just manage…
James,
It would be more dramatic to begin by saying that the storms that rolled through here about 7 this morning startled me from my slumber. To begin by saying that the thunder, lightning and the crash of tree parts and other debris into cars and onto the streets was a most un-settling way to begin the day would be, in truth, not the beginning of my day, though yes, it was un-settling.
My day began three hours earlier thanks to Pete, the cat! He started, per usual at about 4 with his meows, chin chucking and various other actions trying to rouse me. I did my best to ignore him and eventually he sauntered away, to sit and stare. By six, we decide it was time to eat. He feasts on a breakfast of turkey and giblets, I have cereal and a banana.
The storms roll in at 7 and Pete, the cat is a tad un-nerved. He was perched on the sill of one of the open windows. The crashes and lightning sent him skittering. He’s been pacing about, not quite sure of what to make of all the whirling and blowing. I close the windows against the growing breezes for fear that they might turn from refreshing to violent. Neither of us would welcome that eventuality.
I know you’re wondering, who the heck is Pete, the cat? Well, I adopted a cat at the urging of D, my daughter. You remember my daughter, don’t you? True, she was what…9 or 10 the last time you saw her? But I’ve spoken of her in the many letters I’ve sent in the interim. She’s nearly 23 now and working as a vet tech at one of the local animal shelters. The adoptions didn’t stop at Pete, the cat. Diamond, diva dog, also calls our condo home. Diamond and D will be moving as soon as my daughter can get all her ducks in a row. I’ll miss them both, but when it’s that time, well, it is.
There have been many other changes in my life, our lives since we last saw or even spoken to one other. M, my son graduated from college and has been pursuing a career in the theatre. He is working a “day” job that is very satisfying and will serve to provide him the security to continue to pursue his passions. He moved out a year ago and while I’ve stumbled on turning what was his space in the condo, into my space, the time has come for me to forge full speed ahead with that/those projects.
For the biggest change in the past few years is that I’ve fallen in love. The love is on her way, yes…her way here for the first time. I’ve visited her on a number of occasions because it was easier (since I have daughter here and such), but now…she wants to visit Chicago, me and see, rather than hear, how I live. When it’s that time, well, it is.
I don’t remember when you and I have last talked verbally or in print, but I do remember the contexts. I remember you’re stating, trying to assure me that you love me. I have to tell you, I find your declarations hard to believe given what we’ve shared, or rather haven’t, for the bulk of my 47 years. But, never fear I no longer dwell on whether or not you love me or vice versa. That part doesn’t matter. What does matter is that you’re my father and I would like to, at the very least know you and vice versa. So, on this day, the day set aside for children to honor their fathers, allow me to say, I hope that your life has been and continues to be all you hoped and dreamed. I hope your health and that of your wife allows for relaxing enjoyment during these golden years. Finally father, I hope you are happy.
I hope, you hope, the same for me.
Your only daughter, Deborah
I guess I would start there, maybe.
James,
It would be more dramatic to begin by saying that the storms that rolled through here about 7 this morning startled me from my slumber. To begin by saying that the thunder, lightning and the crash of tree parts and other debris into cars and onto the streets was a most un-settling way to begin the day would be, in truth, not the beginning of my day, though yes, it was un-settling.
My day began three hours earlier thanks to Pete, the cat! He started, per usual at about 4 with his meows, chin chucking and various other actions trying to rouse me. I did my best to ignore him and eventually he sauntered away, to sit and stare. By six, we decide it was time to eat. He feasts on a breakfast of turkey and giblets, I have cereal and a banana.
The storms roll in at 7 and Pete, the cat is a tad un-nerved. He was perched on the sill of one of the open windows. The crashes and lightning sent him skittering. He’s been pacing about, not quite sure of what to make of all the whirling and blowing. I close the windows against the growing breezes for fear that they might turn from refreshing to violent. Neither of us would welcome that eventuality.
I know you’re wondering, who the heck is Pete, the cat? Well, I adopted a cat at the urging of D, my daughter. You remember my daughter, don’t you? True, she was what…9 or 10 the last time you saw her? But I’ve spoken of her in the many letters I’ve sent in the interim. She’s nearly 23 now and working as a vet tech at one of the local animal shelters. The adoptions didn’t stop at Pete, the cat. Diamond, diva dog, also calls our condo home. Diamond and D will be moving as soon as my daughter can get all her ducks in a row. I’ll miss them both, but when it’s that time, well, it is.
There have been many other changes in my life, our lives since we last saw or even spoken to one other. M, my son graduated from college and has been pursuing a career in the theatre. He is working a “day” job that is very satisfying and will serve to provide him the security to continue to pursue his passions. He moved out a year ago and while I’ve stumbled on turning what was his space in the condo, into my space, the time has come for me to forge full speed ahead with that/those projects.
For the biggest change in the past few years is that I’ve fallen in love. The love is on her way, yes…her way here for the first time. I’ve visited her on a number of occasions because it was easier (since I have daughter here and such), but now…she wants to visit Chicago, me and see, rather than hear, how I live. When it’s that time, well, it is.
I don’t remember when you and I have last talked verbally or in print, but I do remember the contexts. I remember you’re stating, trying to assure me that you love me. I have to tell you, I find your declarations hard to believe given what we’ve shared, or rather haven’t, for the bulk of my 47 years. But, never fear I no longer dwell on whether or not you love me or vice versa. That part doesn’t matter. What does matter is that you’re my father and I would like to, at the very least know you and vice versa. So, on this day, the day set aside for children to honor their fathers, allow me to say, I hope that your life has been and continues to be all you hoped and dreamed. I hope your health and that of your wife allows for relaxing enjoyment during these golden years. Finally father, I hope you are happy.
I hope, you hope, the same for me.
Your only daughter, Deborah
I guess I would start there, maybe.
Thursday, June 12, 2008
Start. Stop. Up. Down. Twist. Shout.
I'm all over the place these days. My mind is going a million miles a minute. There is a condo to brighten and shine. There are supplies and foodstuffs to stock. There is excitement to keep on an even keel, if at all possible.
Neta is coming to town. Soon, fifteen days to be exact.
Oh me, oh my...Neta is coming. Neta. Is. Coming.
Neta is coming to town. Soon, fifteen days to be exact.
Oh me, oh my...Neta is coming. Neta. Is. Coming.
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
Top?
I'm trying not to read too much into Chef Izard being featured in one of the local rags today. In fact, over the past several days there have been a number of Stephanie sightings (and reports). Per this most recent newspaper article, Stephanie is scouting locations for a new Chicago restuarant she's planning to open. Did she pack her knives in defeat or victory? I'll be tuning in tonight to see. Go Iz!
Monday, June 09, 2008
A,B,C more about MeMe
No doubt you've seen this nearly everywhere. Here's my jumping on band-wagon effort:
A is for your age: in a few weeks I'll be forty-eight.
B is for your burger choice: Beef, pink, spicy and hella good.
C is for the car you drive: none, zero, zip, na-da, making those extend your warranty calls on the voicemail every other day pretty annoying. This is your final warning. Don't delay, press 2 to speak with a representative to extend your warranty. Press 1 to remove your name from our list. Message. Every. Other. Day. for about six months now.
D is for dog's name: though not technically my dog, her name is Diamond. I like to call her Diva Dog.
E is for an essential item you use every day: How odd. There are many, seriously. How do you manage without soap AND water? Cheerios AND milk? socks AND shoes? Well, if I have to choose one....moisturizer to combaat ashy knees, elbows and more.
F is for favorite TV show: This is a toughie...mmmm..at the moment, I suppose would get the nod. I didn't like it when it started and for whatever reason was captured by it a couple of seasons ago. I've been watching the replays in syndication to fill in some gaps. I will eventually rent/watch all the seasons in succession. Probably.
G is for favorite game: Duck, Duck, Goose? Naaah, today it's a toss-up between Scrabble and Scattergories.
H is for your hometown: Da Bulls, Da Bears, Da Cubs......Chicago
I is for instruments played: recorder, piano (lessons) and finger cymbals. Finger cymbals rock!
J is for favorite juice: not big on juices but in the interest of full disclosure, drumroll please....V8 Spicy.
K is for what you'd like to kick: the 11:30 p.m. craving for chocolate chip cookies.
L is for the last restaurant you dined at: Demos' Yummy steak.
M is for favorite muppet: The Count.
N is for number of piercings: Two, each lobe.
O is for overnight hospital stays: Three. Tonsils & 2 birthing events.
P is for people you were with today: fellow commuters, bus operator(s) and co-workers.
Q is what you do in quiet times: Savor. Read. Write.
R is for regrets: I regret not picking up the plants & potting soil while I had access to a car.
S is for your status: Totally devoted to Neta.
T is for time you woke up: 4:14 a.m. Pete. The Cat. 4:14 AM. Pete! the Cat.
U is for what you consider unique: Ernestine, 59.
V is for favorite vegetable: Spinach.
W is for worst habit: falling asleep with the television on
X is for xrays you've had: knees & dental, a few times.
Y is for yummy food eaten today: Garlic Lime Chicken
Z is for zodiac sign: LEO. You have a great insight into major events going on right now, and a lot of people would love to know what you know! Sitting in the catbird's seat gives you a great feeling, and you are finally coming to a place where you can truly value your position in life. Resist the temptation to lord your power over other people who are at disadvantage -- you don't want to burn any bridges. Keep your cool and play this out more conservatively than you probably want to. Whatever.
A is for your age: in a few weeks I'll be forty-eight.
B is for your burger choice: Beef, pink, spicy and hella good.
C is for the car you drive: none, zero, zip, na-da, making those extend your warranty calls on the voicemail every other day pretty annoying. This is your final warning. Don't delay, press 2 to speak with a representative to extend your warranty. Press 1 to remove your name from our list. Message. Every. Other. Day. for about six months now.
D is for dog's name: though not technically my dog, her name is Diamond. I like to call her Diva Dog.
E is for an essential item you use every day: How odd. There are many, seriously. How do you manage without soap AND water? Cheerios AND milk? socks AND shoes? Well, if I have to choose one....moisturizer to combaat ashy knees, elbows and more.
F is for favorite TV show: This is a toughie...mmmm..at the moment, I suppose would get the nod. I didn't like it when it started and for whatever reason was captured by it a couple of seasons ago. I've been watching the replays in syndication to fill in some gaps. I will eventually rent/watch all the seasons in succession. Probably.
G is for favorite game: Duck, Duck, Goose? Naaah, today it's a toss-up between Scrabble and Scattergories.
H is for your hometown: Da Bulls, Da Bears, Da Cubs......Chicago
I is for instruments played: recorder, piano (lessons) and finger cymbals. Finger cymbals rock!
J is for favorite juice: not big on juices but in the interest of full disclosure, drumroll please....V8 Spicy.
K is for what you'd like to kick: the 11:30 p.m. craving for chocolate chip cookies.
L is for the last restaurant you dined at: Demos' Yummy steak.
M is for favorite muppet: The Count.
N is for number of piercings: Two, each lobe.
O is for overnight hospital stays: Three. Tonsils & 2 birthing events.
P is for people you were with today: fellow commuters, bus operator(s) and co-workers.
Q is what you do in quiet times: Savor. Read. Write.
R is for regrets: I regret not picking up the plants & potting soil while I had access to a car.
S is for your status: Totally devoted to Neta.
T is for time you woke up: 4:14 a.m. Pete. The Cat. 4:14 AM. Pete! the Cat.
U is for what you consider unique: Ernestine, 59.
V is for favorite vegetable: Spinach.
W is for worst habit: falling asleep with the television on
X is for xrays you've had: knees & dental, a few times.
Y is for yummy food eaten today: Garlic Lime Chicken
Z is for zodiac sign: LEO. You have a great insight into major events going on right now, and a lot of people would love to know what you know! Sitting in the catbird's seat gives you a great feeling, and you are finally coming to a place where you can truly value your position in life. Resist the temptation to lord your power over other people who are at disadvantage -- you don't want to burn any bridges. Keep your cool and play this out more conservatively than you probably want to. Whatever.
Thursday, June 05, 2008
Love of the Game
Chicago-land native Candace Parker rolled into town with the rest of the Sparks in tow to take on our Sky. The ladies played to a sell-out crowd (no, not me.) The Sky rallied from a 14-point deficit to tie the game at the end of regulation. The Sparks, minus C. Parker who had fouled out, won in OT 81-77.
Oh yes, I like the women. I love the women. However, I don’t have any co-workers who share a passion for the women’s game. The NBA follower co-worker smiles, nods and just pretends to understand. We do not discuss.
We don’t talk about how rookie Parker is leading the Sparks in scoring, rebounds and assists and is odds on favorite to score rookie of the year honors. We don’t talk about the other touted rookie, our very own Fowles, being out with a knee sprain suffered in the 3rd quarter of the battle with the Sparks. Or that Fowles ranks as her team’s third leading scorer but second in rebounds and first in blocked shots. Further, we don’t talk about how badly the 2007 champion Phoenix Mercury are struggling right now. How Cappie, Diana and Tangela have their work cut out for them but being up to the challenge.
We don’t talk about how with the addition of veterans Yolanda Griffith, Swin Cash and Sheryl Swoopes, the Seattle Storm are hoping for a return to the championship podium.
And of course we don’t talk about the Comets, Dream, Fever, Liberty, Lynx (who are hot right now, by the by), Monarchs, Mystics, Silver Stars, Shock or the Sun. And if we don’t talk about the WNBA, you know we aren’t talking about the NCAA women. Bring on the Madness!
Play on ladies. Seriously.
Oh yes, I like the women. I love the women. However, I don’t have any co-workers who share a passion for the women’s game. The NBA follower co-worker smiles, nods and just pretends to understand. We do not discuss.
We don’t talk about how rookie Parker is leading the Sparks in scoring, rebounds and assists and is odds on favorite to score rookie of the year honors. We don’t talk about the other touted rookie, our very own Fowles, being out with a knee sprain suffered in the 3rd quarter of the battle with the Sparks. Or that Fowles ranks as her team’s third leading scorer but second in rebounds and first in blocked shots. Further, we don’t talk about how badly the 2007 champion Phoenix Mercury are struggling right now. How Cappie, Diana and Tangela have their work cut out for them but being up to the challenge.
We don’t talk about how with the addition of veterans Yolanda Griffith, Swin Cash and Sheryl Swoopes, the Seattle Storm are hoping for a return to the championship podium.
And of course we don’t talk about the Comets, Dream, Fever, Liberty, Lynx (who are hot right now, by the by), Monarchs, Mystics, Silver Stars, Shock or the Sun. And if we don’t talk about the WNBA, you know we aren’t talking about the NCAA women. Bring on the Madness!
Play on ladies. Seriously.
Wednesday, June 04, 2008
Not In the Game
Eventhough I've told him that I'm not a fan of the NBA anymore, a co-worker wants to know every morning following a play-off game if I saw the game. Every morning I tell him that I didn't. He proceeds to give me a run-down of the more scintillating moments. I listen to be polite. I even make a comment or two.
But I don't care. Really, I don't. Knowing who plays and who wins is simply an accident of memory. I check in with SportsCenter (for other sporting news), there are the crawlers along the top (or bottom) of the screen during my local newscast, I might catch a flash of conversation on the bus or train or glance at the sports section of some commuter's newspaper. The data enters and sometimes it clings whether I want it to or not.
The Finals start tomorrow. The Boston Celtics will battle the Los Angeles Lakers for the title in a best of 7 series. A decade (or more) ago I would have cared. Not now. Except if I did care I'd want Boston to beat the Lakers because "Doc" Rivers played HS & college ball in the area and I always liked his play and demeanor. Conversely, I really, really, seriously, really don't like Kobe. Seriously. One more look at his tongue (you ever notice how often he licks his lips when he talks?) and I'm going to hurl my salad. Seriously.
Play on but I don't care. Seriously.
But I don't care. Really, I don't. Knowing who plays and who wins is simply an accident of memory. I check in with SportsCenter (for other sporting news), there are the crawlers along the top (or bottom) of the screen during my local newscast, I might catch a flash of conversation on the bus or train or glance at the sports section of some commuter's newspaper. The data enters and sometimes it clings whether I want it to or not.
The Finals start tomorrow. The Boston Celtics will battle the Los Angeles Lakers for the title in a best of 7 series. A decade (or more) ago I would have cared. Not now. Except if I did care I'd want Boston to beat the Lakers because "Doc" Rivers played HS & college ball in the area and I always liked his play and demeanor. Conversely, I really, really, seriously, really don't like Kobe. Seriously. One more look at his tongue (you ever notice how often he licks his lips when he talks?) and I'm going to hurl my salad. Seriously.
Play on but I don't care. Seriously.
Monday, June 02, 2008
Quirky
I was tagged (again) to do 10 (different number) things about me (meme). I’ve been thinking about this much and then again, not much at all and then much all over again. I’m hung up on the quirky. Quirky quirks me out perhaps. But, alas, quirky or not, here we go:
1. My first fried chicken dinner was a complete bust. The chicken was beautifully, golden brown outside and a bloody un-done mess inside. I was eleven, I think.
2. I redeemed myself eventually, but then, by that time I didn’t care about preparing food for anyone in my household.
3. Still, the skill came in handy during the rearing of my own children. They grew up eating a lot of fried chicken.
4. My mother had no active role in teaching me how to cook. Ergo, I learned most of what I know long after becoming an adult, a mother.
5. I do not like my water (drinking) or most any other beverage iced, usually. Chilled is ok, iced is generally too much. Waiters (more than waitresses, oddly) tend to question my –no ice- request.
6. A co-worker revealed to me today that he loves peach cobbler and loves to prepare it but can’t stand touching fresh peaches. The fuzz quirks him out. I, on the other hand, don’t care much for peach cobbler but I do adore fresh peaches. Canned peaches (his preference over even frozen peaches) quirk me out.
7. Generally, I don’t like sipping through straws. Obviously in some cases (milkshakes, smoothies) straws are a must, but otherwise, I do without.
8.I found out today that I like cranberries in tuna salad.
9. I don’t like green grapes, but I like all the others. I especially like the sweet grapes added to a buffalo chicken salad.
10.Buffalo chicken salad makes me think of Toot’s, which makes me think, Tennessee, which makes me think Neta, who makes me feel all quirky inside and out. Yum.
1. My first fried chicken dinner was a complete bust. The chicken was beautifully, golden brown outside and a bloody un-done mess inside. I was eleven, I think.
2. I redeemed myself eventually, but then, by that time I didn’t care about preparing food for anyone in my household.
3. Still, the skill came in handy during the rearing of my own children. They grew up eating a lot of fried chicken.
4. My mother had no active role in teaching me how to cook. Ergo, I learned most of what I know long after becoming an adult, a mother.
5. I do not like my water (drinking) or most any other beverage iced, usually. Chilled is ok, iced is generally too much. Waiters (more than waitresses, oddly) tend to question my –no ice- request.
6. A co-worker revealed to me today that he loves peach cobbler and loves to prepare it but can’t stand touching fresh peaches. The fuzz quirks him out. I, on the other hand, don’t care much for peach cobbler but I do adore fresh peaches. Canned peaches (his preference over even frozen peaches) quirk me out.
7. Generally, I don’t like sipping through straws. Obviously in some cases (milkshakes, smoothies) straws are a must, but otherwise, I do without.
8.I found out today that I like cranberries in tuna salad.
9. I don’t like green grapes, but I like all the others. I especially like the sweet grapes added to a buffalo chicken salad.
10.Buffalo chicken salad makes me think of Toot’s, which makes me think, Tennessee, which makes me think Neta, who makes me feel all quirky inside and out. Yum.
Thursday, May 29, 2008
Finally
Gone. Rooting for Stephanie because of the Chi connect, but think Antonia is going to be victorious.
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
May 26, 2008
What do you say to the woman who gave birth, cuddled and diapered you?Whose emotional ups and downs sometimes un-settled you?
Who fed, groomed and hollered at you at times?
Who put iodine on your scrapes, jackets on your back and second-hand KEDs on your feet?
Who made you eat lima beans (ugh) every once in a while and multiple moves in search of something, someplace just a little bit better?
Whose negativity sometimes confounded you?
Who offered slices of opportunity with a piano rental at 13?
Who has more questions than Trivial Pursuit?
Whose reprimands were rarely harsh and supplied paper for Art?
Who teased occasionally? And took a stab at understanding?
Whose volatile reactions made events even more?
Who provided the “What It Means To Be A Woman” pamphlet when that time arrived?
Whose Xs provided the beginning of you?
Whose years have stretched beyond her expectations?
Whose zigs and zags are now quite predictable?
What you say is happy 68th birthday. I wish for you peace of mind and body from this day forward.
Friday, May 23, 2008
A Lake Story
Chicago’s beaches are open today. It is all of 50 degrees, overcast and dreary, but if you are so inclined, you may flock to the beach today. I’ll pass thankyouverymuch. I don’t do beach even on the best of the best of beach weather days.
I do enjoy the lakefront though. I don’t spend nearly enough time walking/biking along the lakefront.
A favorite childhood memory involved the lakefront. My brothers and I often escaped to the downtown area, often separately, but sometimes together. We’d go to the movies and then just walk around, eventually making our way to the lakefront. When I got older, the lakefront was a favorite later night biking destination.
One of those together times I felt the need to dress up for some reason that escapes me now. I decide to raid mom’s closet for some chunky high heeled sandals. We were walking (me clomping) along the lakefront, pointing at and oohing and ahhing over the boats and buoys when all of a sudden, I listed to one side. One of the chunky heels had snapped, and bounced into the lake, bobbling along like those buoys we ahhhed over. Oh shit.
My older brother, true to his nature, plopped down on the ground and laughed his little ass off. My younger brother’s eyes stretched far and wide and before he could get the, “Mommy’s gonna kill you” out fully, I was down on my daisy covered (even back then mom persisted in floral prints) belly reaching for the heel.
Younger brother freaked. His anxiety over large bodies of water trumped mine by several aces. “STOP!!! BEFORE YOU FALL IN!!” he yelled. He grabbing at me, trying to pull me away. I clung to the edge, flat against the ground trying to explain that I couldn’t fall, off my belly, into the lake, (and *I* was taking no unnecessary chances—the heel certainly was within my reach-when if first fell, having gotten caught in something) but he would not be swayed. He was more and more insistent and since older brother was still laughing his little ass off, he was no help.
The heel bobbled out of my reach. Oh shit.
The train ride home was painfully long. Older brother teasing, younger brother clinging, relieved I hadn’t drowned, me scared shitless about what my mother would say, do. Half-way home, I decided I’d toss what was left of the chunky high-heeled sandals in the incinerator outside of our apartment door.
Mom wasn’t home when we steeped through the door so I didn’t have to explain why I was walking in the apartment barefooted. My brothers and I went on with the rest of the day as though nothing out of the ordinary occurred.
A couple of weeks later, mom was getting dressed to go out. She tore up her closet looking for her white, chunky high-heeled sandals. She cussed a storm, upset that she couldn’t find them. Neither brother said a word.
Of course, older brother lorded my secret over me. That is, until I caught him doing something *he* didn’t want told, which true to his nature wasn’t very long at all.
Have a happy, safe holiday weekend.
I do enjoy the lakefront though. I don’t spend nearly enough time walking/biking along the lakefront.
A favorite childhood memory involved the lakefront. My brothers and I often escaped to the downtown area, often separately, but sometimes together. We’d go to the movies and then just walk around, eventually making our way to the lakefront. When I got older, the lakefront was a favorite later night biking destination.
One of those together times I felt the need to dress up for some reason that escapes me now. I decide to raid mom’s closet for some chunky high heeled sandals. We were walking (me clomping) along the lakefront, pointing at and oohing and ahhing over the boats and buoys when all of a sudden, I listed to one side. One of the chunky heels had snapped, and bounced into the lake, bobbling along like those buoys we ahhhed over. Oh shit.
My older brother, true to his nature, plopped down on the ground and laughed his little ass off. My younger brother’s eyes stretched far and wide and before he could get the, “Mommy’s gonna kill you” out fully, I was down on my daisy covered (even back then mom persisted in floral prints) belly reaching for the heel.
Younger brother freaked. His anxiety over large bodies of water trumped mine by several aces. “STOP!!! BEFORE YOU FALL IN!!” he yelled. He grabbing at me, trying to pull me away. I clung to the edge, flat against the ground trying to explain that I couldn’t fall, off my belly, into the lake, (and *I* was taking no unnecessary chances—the heel certainly was within my reach-when if first fell, having gotten caught in something) but he would not be swayed. He was more and more insistent and since older brother was still laughing his little ass off, he was no help.
The heel bobbled out of my reach. Oh shit.
The train ride home was painfully long. Older brother teasing, younger brother clinging, relieved I hadn’t drowned, me scared shitless about what my mother would say, do. Half-way home, I decided I’d toss what was left of the chunky high-heeled sandals in the incinerator outside of our apartment door.
Mom wasn’t home when we steeped through the door so I didn’t have to explain why I was walking in the apartment barefooted. My brothers and I went on with the rest of the day as though nothing out of the ordinary occurred.
A couple of weeks later, mom was getting dressed to go out. She tore up her closet looking for her white, chunky high-heeled sandals. She cussed a storm, upset that she couldn’t find them. Neither brother said a word.
Of course, older brother lorded my secret over me. That is, until I caught him doing something *he* didn’t want told, which true to his nature wasn’t very long at all.
Have a happy, safe holiday weekend.
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Four
I was four when I started school. It was head-start. Mom thought I needed my shyness tendencies eased a bit. I don’t think it worked, then.
Anyhoo…my teacher was Mrs. Stomper. I remember because her name rhymed with romper. Remember Romper Room? I think at some point, in some parts of the country, it was known as Romper Stomper.
Anyhoo..Mrs. Stomper looked a little like Mary Tyler Moore as she appeared on the old Dick Van Dyke show…”ooooh Roooob!” You remember. I don’t remember much else about Mrs. Stomper beyond her name and what she looked like, except, I remember liking her and for my first experience with Chicago public school teachers, she wasn’t so bad, in fact, looking back, she was probably one of the best.
Anyhoo…four.
How does one squeeze four months of not seeing one another into a paltry 4 day visit? One doesn’t, one just make the best of the time one has.
One did.
Anyhoo…my teacher was Mrs. Stomper. I remember because her name rhymed with romper. Remember Romper Room? I think at some point, in some parts of the country, it was known as Romper Stomper.
Anyhoo..Mrs. Stomper looked a little like Mary Tyler Moore as she appeared on the old Dick Van Dyke show…”ooooh Roooob!” You remember. I don’t remember much else about Mrs. Stomper beyond her name and what she looked like, except, I remember liking her and for my first experience with Chicago public school teachers, she wasn’t so bad, in fact, looking back, she was probably one of the best.
Anyhoo…four.
How does one squeeze four months of not seeing one another into a paltry 4 day visit? One doesn’t, one just make the best of the time one has.
One did.
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
Itinerary
Thursday: 8:55 scheduled for take-off from O’Hare International. I won’t think about delays, except to be positive-there will be none. Period. Thursday: 10:05 scheduled to land in Nashville’s perpetually under construction (re-modeling) airport. Maybe, by now it’s done. Thursday: 10:35 (after a pit stop ) re-introducing myself to Miss N. She might not immediately recognize me because of the haircut (much shorter than the last time) and different glasses. Plus, she would have worked all night and I’ll be lucky she is even standing. We will alter that state as soon as we can. Thursday: 11:00 Off to Toots for fried pickles, Buffalo chicken salad and a beer or two. Yum. Thursday: 12:30 (or later if we detour to the grocery store or something) pulling into the garage, taking my bags (& such) out of the car, into the house, saying hey to the cats on the way to the shedding outside clothes. Thursday: the balance……. ahhhhhhh Friday: more ahhhhhhhhh Saturday: Repeat of Friday. Yum Sunday: more ahhhhhh until the return to Nashville’s airport at 4:00 p.m. Sunday: 7:00 p.m. Sad to be on the phone talking to Neta, yet glad for the time together, sharing meals, face-to-face conversation, laughter and ahhhhhh, until the next time.
Monday, May 12, 2008
Weekend Update
Saturday D and I spent the day browsing Border’s, people watching, nibbling and just enjoying the day and the weather. Sunday was cold and wet but Mom and I went to a restaurant of her choosing anyway. Compared to some of our restaurant outings, I’d have to say this one was quite pleasant.
Monday, M and his girlfriend met me at my office. We walked to one of the local eateries for some good food and great conversation.
All-in-all, a pretty decent set of days but I’m glad they’re over. I enjoy spending time with my son and daughter. I appreciate the opportunity to share some pleasant moments with my mom. But these last few weeks I haven’t been able to do much but think about going down to TN. I’ve been counting days, hours, minutes and seconds.
I just have to get through today and tomorrow and then it’s . . . flight time.
Monday, M and his girlfriend met me at my office. We walked to one of the local eateries for some good food and great conversation.
All-in-all, a pretty decent set of days but I’m glad they’re over. I enjoy spending time with my son and daughter. I appreciate the opportunity to share some pleasant moments with my mom. But these last few weeks I haven’t been able to do much but think about going down to TN. I’ve been counting days, hours, minutes and seconds.
I just have to get through today and tomorrow and then it’s . . . flight time.
Friday, May 09, 2008
Question
A salesperson (in this case it’s a guy, but that is not the point) has been calling you every few weeks for m-o-n-t-h-s trying to sell your business a service that might prove helpful and cost effective. You’ve looked into the service once before a few years ago and determined at that time that the savings were not sufficient to warrant the possible upheaval to the business to switch out what you’re currently doing. You’ve mentioned this to the salesperson at every interval, you express a general reluctance to talk about it more, but they persist, going on and on about technology upgrades and really, “we can save your business hundreds a year.”
Just one meeting, no more than 30 minutes, they ask.
Finally, you agree to a meeting. Times are tight and savings are harder and harder to come by. Maybe the service and technology is much improved since your last look-see. It's worth 30-40 minutes of your time on a relatively light day.
You schedule and confirm a meeting for Friday, May 9th at 1:30 in the afternoon.
1:30 no show. 2:30 no show. At 3:15 the salesperson calls, “Hey, it’s been an incredibly hectic day. I know we were supposed to get together earlier, anyway we still can? I just thought I'd give that courtesy call to see if we can meet today or re-schedule for next week."
My question isn’t whether you’d let the salesperson come on by (I didn't because I was leaving the office earlier than 5 and the rest of the afternoon was already booked). My question is: would you ever re-schedule?
Just one meeting, no more than 30 minutes, they ask.
Finally, you agree to a meeting. Times are tight and savings are harder and harder to come by. Maybe the service and technology is much improved since your last look-see. It's worth 30-40 minutes of your time on a relatively light day.
You schedule and confirm a meeting for Friday, May 9th at 1:30 in the afternoon.
1:30 no show. 2:30 no show. At 3:15 the salesperson calls, “Hey, it’s been an incredibly hectic day. I know we were supposed to get together earlier, anyway we still can? I just thought I'd give that courtesy call to see if we can meet today or re-schedule for next week."
My question isn’t whether you’d let the salesperson come on by (I didn't because I was leaving the office earlier than 5 and the rest of the afternoon was already booked). My question is: would you ever re-schedule?
Thursday, May 08, 2008
Opposites Attract*
Deena paced back and forth reminding Maria of the Brookfield Zoo polar bear. That memory brings a smile to Maria’s face. Deena spies the smile, halted her pacing long enough to ask, “What’s so funny?” Maria let Deena in on the memory only to see her scowl and resume the pacing.Maria tried once more to lighten the mood in the tiny bedroom, “come back to bed honey.” Deena kept pacing while thinking seriously of digging out and firing up the cigarette she’d hidden in the sock drawer. She treated Maria to another scowl, adding a growl and a very terse, “no, we’ve had enough sex for one day.” Deena added, “What the hell is it with you and the rains? Every time we get these torrential rains you get crazy for sex. We’ve been cooped up in this room for d-a-y-s.”
“Sweetheart” Maria reasoned, “It has only been raining for 3 hours, you have only been home for two, I think of it as being crazy for you and not just sex but making love, honey. Besides, just think how lush and green the yards will be tomorrow.” Maria met Deena’s scowl with a more playful version trying to get Deena to smile, just a little. Those smiles melted Maria’s heart, over and over again.
Deena paced some more but without resolve. She knew Maria would be able to lure her back into bed. Again she found herself wondering just what it was about Maria and why with all their differences they seemed to work. Then she decided she didn’t care. Deena made a final turn, tilted her head and treated Maria to the smile that got her motors going.
Minutes before succumbing to the kiss Maria was aiming to plant, Deena noted that they would probably have to swim to the mailbox. However, it was clear from the depth of that kiss and the active hands that Maria didn’t give one whit about mail, swimming or anything other than making love to the rhythm of the rain.
Deena decided neither did she and further found herself saying a hearty thank you to torrential rains and for Maria.
*Weekend Wordsmith prompt from 5/2/08
Rats
Weese is having critter issues. Her rat tale prompted the following memory.
I was four, maybe five years old. Dad wasnotorious famous for bringing home strays, mostly dogs. Many times we’d come from school, mom from work to find yet another different animal. These strays never stayed around long. They were there today, gone tomorrow pets. We hardly had time to name them before they were gone.
Mom was none too pleased with this habit. She and dad didn’t usually fight openly in front of us but mom was not shy about making her feelings known about these strays.
Dad always seemed able to calm her fears and concerns. After the initial heat, she seemed resigned to the new additions. Each time though, he promised, no more. A few days/weeks after the latest stray disappeared, a new one would appear.
One night after we were in bed, dad came bouncing up the stairs. His excitement barreled through our door and propelled us out of bed. We wanted to see the new stray.
Mom’s shriek blocked our forward motion. Dad had something, but it wasn’t a stray dog.
“Go. Back. To. Bed. Now!”
Through the door we heard that dad had brought home a rat. The rat in a mayonnaise jar, was according to mom, was a filthy, nasty, deadly . . . thing. “I do not want that, that THING!” around my kids.
Dad tried to assure mom that all would be well. She wasn’t buying that bill of goods, but she seemed to ease up a bit. It got quiet, except for the opening/closing of the sun-porch door.
We got up the next morning and though we were scared we were still eager to see the cause of all the overnight drama. We bolted towards the sun-porch but mom yelled for us to not go out there. Dad was on our side, “oh, let them see.” He went out to retrieve his find, his capture. He came back in from the sun-porch holding a mayonnaise jar full of big filthy, nasty DEAD rat.
The discussion from the previous night started anew. We were sent outside to play.
Sometime during the night, mom had stuffed aluminum foil in the air-holes dad and poked in the lid of the mayonnaise jar. Over the course of the next 2 or 3 years that they were together, dad continued to bring home strays. But that was the first and last rat.
I’ve seen a few rats since, however only one other on the inside of the apartment/house in which we were living. It wouldn’t bother me one whit to go the rest of my life without seeing another one, alive or dead.
I was four, maybe five years old. Dad was
Mom was none too pleased with this habit. She and dad didn’t usually fight openly in front of us but mom was not shy about making her feelings known about these strays.
Dad always seemed able to calm her fears and concerns. After the initial heat, she seemed resigned to the new additions. Each time though, he promised, no more. A few days/weeks after the latest stray disappeared, a new one would appear.
One night after we were in bed, dad came bouncing up the stairs. His excitement barreled through our door and propelled us out of bed. We wanted to see the new stray.
Mom’s shriek blocked our forward motion. Dad had something, but it wasn’t a stray dog.
“Go. Back. To. Bed. Now!”
Through the door we heard that dad had brought home a rat. The rat in a mayonnaise jar, was according to mom, was a filthy, nasty, deadly . . . thing. “I do not want that, that THING!” around my kids.
Dad tried to assure mom that all would be well. She wasn’t buying that bill of goods, but she seemed to ease up a bit. It got quiet, except for the opening/closing of the sun-porch door.
We got up the next morning and though we were scared we were still eager to see the cause of all the overnight drama. We bolted towards the sun-porch but mom yelled for us to not go out there. Dad was on our side, “oh, let them see.” He went out to retrieve his find, his capture. He came back in from the sun-porch holding a mayonnaise jar full of big filthy, nasty DEAD rat.
The discussion from the previous night started anew. We were sent outside to play.
Sometime during the night, mom had stuffed aluminum foil in the air-holes dad and poked in the lid of the mayonnaise jar. Over the course of the next 2 or 3 years that they were together, dad continued to bring home strays. But that was the first and last rat.
I’ve seen a few rats since, however only one other on the inside of the apartment/house in which we were living. It wouldn’t bother me one whit to go the rest of my life without seeing another one, alive or dead.
Tuesday, May 06, 2008
Any Other Day
It was a routine day, a day not so routine as to render it mundane, but routine enough so as to not set it apart in any way. This could have been any day. Following work on this any day of a mountain of routine, I head home in the usual way.
Thirty minutes of non-events later I arrive at my block. There are trucks and service vans everywhere.
I’m mildly curious as they activity seems centered on my building, but there wasn’t any work scheduled. The closer I get the more I’m able to see that yes, all the coming and going is indeed our building. I get to the lobby to see that the tile has been busted up. Moving through the outer lobby, towards the inner-lobby and I can that the carpet has been ripped apart. I climb the two flights to my unit door to find that my hardwood floors in 4 rooms and the tile in the other 2 were all busted, ripped, buffed and such. What tha... Who ordered this? Who’s paying for it? Who decided it to be done all at once, inside and out? I didn’t see any other owners around. My daughter is gone. And WHERE ARE D-dog and Pete the Cat?!?
Just as I am about to grab somebody, any body to get to the bottom of whomever or whatever is behind all this work, debris and confusion, I awake.
A dream. So rare these are. So real this was. I got up, checked the locks and the alarm, got a drink of water and tried to go back to sleep. I didn't sleep, I couldn't get the dream to leave my side.
The actual day that followed was as full of routine as the day in the dream. The actual day didn't include any ripping,busting or buffing of floors or anything else. Darn.
Thirty minutes of non-events later I arrive at my block. There are trucks and service vans everywhere.
I’m mildly curious as they activity seems centered on my building, but there wasn’t any work scheduled. The closer I get the more I’m able to see that yes, all the coming and going is indeed our building. I get to the lobby to see that the tile has been busted up. Moving through the outer lobby, towards the inner-lobby and I can that the carpet has been ripped apart. I climb the two flights to my unit door to find that my hardwood floors in 4 rooms and the tile in the other 2 were all busted, ripped, buffed and such. What tha... Who ordered this? Who’s paying for it? Who decided it to be done all at once, inside and out? I didn’t see any other owners around. My daughter is gone. And WHERE ARE D-dog and Pete the Cat?!?
Just as I am about to grab somebody, any body to get to the bottom of whomever or whatever is behind all this work, debris and confusion, I awake.
A dream. So rare these are. So real this was. I got up, checked the locks and the alarm, got a drink of water and tried to go back to sleep. I didn't sleep, I couldn't get the dream to leave my side.
The actual day that followed was as full of routine as the day in the dream. The actual day didn't include any ripping,busting or buffing of floors or anything else. Darn.
Friday, May 02, 2008
Corner of the Sky
**Everything has its season
Everything has its time
Show me a reason and I'll soon show you a rhyme
Cats fit on the windowsill Children fit in the snow
Why do I feel I don't fit in anywhere I go?
I could fly, without a plane, without personal wings. I flew.
Not just flew, I soared higher and higher with each trip, the beginning and ending points the same each time with the middle parts of the forays varying mightily.
For most of my growing up I shared a bedroom with my brothers. The earliest part of that sharing had us in bunk beds with me on the bottom and them up top. I think I was 4 or so when I took my first flight.
To say it scared the barrettes out of my tightly wound hair would be putting it mildly. Luckily our room was right off the bathroom. After tip-toeing to and from the bathroom, I detoured to the living room. Mom often found me curled up on the sofa.
These middle of the night flights lasted for several years. Through the divorce, through our descent into poverty, through my brothers’ affiliations with gangs and drugs, through living with relatives, through me moving to my own bedrooms, always with a curtain, never a door. Through it all, the trips became less and less frightening and though I remained afraid of heights I began to welcome the flights. I’d perch atop some spire, sit and peer down into that which was my life and try to figure out how to make being down there less scary, less foreign.
I began to feel at home in the sky. I remember wishing that the winds would just carry me away, far away. But of course, they never did and the realization struck that I'd have to find my corner of the sky, on the ground.
I don't remember when the flights ended, but I do remember soaring at seventeen. I walked out of that last curtained bedroom, loading everything my brothers hadn't stolen from me into my piece of shit car and driving away from what masqueraded as home and to a place that turned out to be the first of a few corners cozy enough to be called home and my own.
**Rivers belong where they can ramble
Eagles belong where they can fly
I've got to be where my spirit can run free
Got to find my corner of the sky
**Corner of the Sky from "Pippen"
Everything has its time
Show me a reason and I'll soon show you a rhyme
Cats fit on the windowsill Children fit in the snow
Why do I feel I don't fit in anywhere I go?
I could fly, without a plane, without personal wings. I flew.
Not just flew, I soared higher and higher with each trip, the beginning and ending points the same each time with the middle parts of the forays varying mightily.
For most of my growing up I shared a bedroom with my brothers. The earliest part of that sharing had us in bunk beds with me on the bottom and them up top. I think I was 4 or so when I took my first flight.
To say it scared the barrettes out of my tightly wound hair would be putting it mildly. Luckily our room was right off the bathroom. After tip-toeing to and from the bathroom, I detoured to the living room. Mom often found me curled up on the sofa.
These middle of the night flights lasted for several years. Through the divorce, through our descent into poverty, through my brothers’ affiliations with gangs and drugs, through living with relatives, through me moving to my own bedrooms, always with a curtain, never a door. Through it all, the trips became less and less frightening and though I remained afraid of heights I began to welcome the flights. I’d perch atop some spire, sit and peer down into that which was my life and try to figure out how to make being down there less scary, less foreign.
I began to feel at home in the sky. I remember wishing that the winds would just carry me away, far away. But of course, they never did and the realization struck that I'd have to find my corner of the sky, on the ground.
I don't remember when the flights ended, but I do remember soaring at seventeen. I walked out of that last curtained bedroom, loading everything my brothers hadn't stolen from me into my piece of shit car and driving away from what masqueraded as home and to a place that turned out to be the first of a few corners cozy enough to be called home and my own.
**Rivers belong where they can ramble
Eagles belong where they can fly
I've got to be where my spirit can run free
Got to find my corner of the sky
**Corner of the Sky from "Pippen"
Thursday, May 01, 2008
Hello Dolly
During a recent phone call:
Son: Hey
Me: Hey yourself
Son: How’s it goin’?
Me: It’s goin’ how ‘bout you?
Son: Good, good. Do you still have those VHS tapes I left?
Me: Hmmm..sure, I think so
Son: could you check?
Me: Uhm, ok. Give me a minute to get up, I’m sitting on the floor and it takes awhile to get up
Son: Yeah, yeah.
I roll to a standing position andlimpwalk over to the cabinet holding tapes, cds and dvds.
Me: I see the Lethal Weapon boxed set, Scarface, NBA Jam Session, Shaquille O’Neal something or another, Moonwalker . .
Son: ok, ok. I’m going to come over and get those. N (the girlfriend) has a VCR. We have to have some different things to watch. I mean, I like 9 to 5, but I don’t want to see it all the time. Hey, what is it with young white women and Dolly Parton? There were those two at school who were craaaazy about Dolly. Remember?
Me: hehehehehehehe, I do remember. I don’t know son. Personally I was / am all about Lily Tomlin.
Son: I know, right. Me too. Oh, did you see the A&E Biography tape, the Sidney Poitier? That's the one I really wanted.
Me: uhm…no…oh wait, yes, that’s here.
Son: Good. She doesn’t know who Sidney Poitier is. She should know Sidney Poitier. I’ll come by next week or so, I’ll be close, I’m a guest judge at the spoken word event at the high school.
Me: Yes, she should know Sidney Poitier. How did the guest judgeship come about? You guys still have travel plans?
Son: I couldn’t believe she said she didn’t know Sidney. The judge thing, Mr. Kahn forwarded me and e-mail and one thing led to another. She’s trying to get us somewhere.
Me: Well, if she brings up Dollywood, you should probably try to go.
Son: yeah, yeah, we’ll see. I gotta go shave my head. The show's done, I can get rid of this hair now.
Me: Ahhh...well congratulations on getting through all 60 performances. What's next?
Son: I've got some auditions and I'm doing something at Looptopia, I'll e-mail the info.
Me: I don't know about Looptopia, D might come down though.
Son: Cool. I'll call when I'm in the area
Me: Good talking with you son, take it easy. 9 to 5 what a way to make... Hello?
Son: Bye, ma.
Me: So long son.
Son: Hey
Me: Hey yourself
Son: How’s it goin’?
Me: It’s goin’ how ‘bout you?
Son: Good, good. Do you still have those VHS tapes I left?
Me: Hmmm..sure, I think so
Son: could you check?
Me: Uhm, ok. Give me a minute to get up, I’m sitting on the floor and it takes awhile to get up
Son: Yeah, yeah.
I roll to a standing position and
Me: I see the Lethal Weapon boxed set, Scarface, NBA Jam Session, Shaquille O’Neal something or another, Moonwalker . .
Son: ok, ok. I’m going to come over and get those. N (the girlfriend) has a VCR. We have to have some different things to watch. I mean, I like 9 to 5, but I don’t want to see it all the time. Hey, what is it with young white women and Dolly Parton? There were those two at school who were craaaazy about Dolly. Remember?
Me: hehehehehehehe, I do remember. I don’t know son. Personally I was / am all about Lily Tomlin.
Son: I know, right. Me too. Oh, did you see the A&E Biography tape, the Sidney Poitier? That's the one I really wanted.
Me: uhm…no…oh wait, yes, that’s here.
Son: Good. She doesn’t know who Sidney Poitier is. She should know Sidney Poitier. I’ll come by next week or so, I’ll be close, I’m a guest judge at the spoken word event at the high school.
Me: Yes, she should know Sidney Poitier. How did the guest judgeship come about? You guys still have travel plans?
Son: I couldn’t believe she said she didn’t know Sidney. The judge thing, Mr. Kahn forwarded me and e-mail and one thing led to another. She’s trying to get us somewhere.
Me: Well, if she brings up Dollywood, you should probably try to go.
Son: yeah, yeah, we’ll see. I gotta go shave my head. The show's done, I can get rid of this hair now.
Me: Ahhh...well congratulations on getting through all 60 performances. What's next?
Son: I've got some auditions and I'm doing something at Looptopia, I'll e-mail the info.
Me: I don't know about Looptopia, D might come down though.
Son: Cool. I'll call when I'm in the area
Me: Good talking with you son, take it easy. 9 to 5 what a way to make... Hello?
Son: Bye, ma.
Me: So long son.
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
You Plus Me
Cuz our love will stand tall as the trees
Our love will spread wide as the sea
Our love will shine bright in the night
Like the stars above and we'll always be together*
It is big, this love of ours. Is it big enough?
We ask it for much; arms in the middle of the night, logic in the midst of the most non-sensical moments, patience and grace towards one anothers schedules and rhythms of lives lived separately and strength to sustain us between the visits.
We ask it the embrace our past towards helping us merge our present to build our future.
We ask for much. Is our big love, big enough, strong enough to shoulder our requests?
Yes. On this day, yes.
*from Natalie Cole's "Our Love"
Thursday, April 24, 2008
Reply
Amaya said...
By your level of anxiety at only having 1 pair of glasses, I'm going to assume your eye sight is pretty bad. Have you considered lasik?
4:42 PM
I am nearsighted, moderately to seriously so. It would be a challenge for me to go without my glasses but given some time to adjust, I'd manage, for a bit. However, if I drove, that would be impossible. My attachment to my glasses is deep and maybe irrational. I feel naked and vulernable without them. I have, in the past, walked around the house without them, much in the same way I might walk around without say...a shirt, briefly. But I would never venture out of doors without them.
My feelings about lasik (or any procedure to muck around my corneas) is rooted in this statement: An instrument called a microkeratome is used in LASIK eye surgery to create a thin, circular flap in the cornea. Another, newer way of making the flap is with a laser. The surgeon folds the flap back out of the way, then removes some corneal tissue underneath using an excimer laser. The excimer laser uses a cool ultraviolet light beam to precisely remove ("ablate") very tiny bits of tissue from the cornea to reshape it. When the cornea is reshaped in the right way, it works better to focus light into the eye and onto the retina, providing clearer vision than before. The flap is then laid back in place, covering the area where the corneal tissue was removed.
To which I say... HELLLLLLZ TO THE NO.
My eyes don't hurt. Wearing glasses doesn't hurt and certainly won't kill me. So, I'm good.
By your level of anxiety at only having 1 pair of glasses, I'm going to assume your eye sight is pretty bad. Have you considered lasik?
4:42 PM
I am nearsighted, moderately to seriously so. It would be a challenge for me to go without my glasses but given some time to adjust, I'd manage, for a bit. However, if I drove, that would be impossible. My attachment to my glasses is deep and maybe irrational. I feel naked and vulernable without them. I have, in the past, walked around the house without them, much in the same way I might walk around without say...a shirt, briefly. But I would never venture out of doors without them.
My feelings about lasik (or any procedure to muck around my corneas) is rooted in this statement: An instrument called a microkeratome is used in LASIK eye surgery to create a thin, circular flap in the cornea. Another, newer way of making the flap is with a laser. The surgeon folds the flap back out of the way, then removes some corneal tissue underneath using an excimer laser. The excimer laser uses a cool ultraviolet light beam to precisely remove ("ablate") very tiny bits of tissue from the cornea to reshape it. When the cornea is reshaped in the right way, it works better to focus light into the eye and onto the retina, providing clearer vision than before. The flap is then laid back in place, covering the area where the corneal tissue was removed.
To which I say... HELLLLLLZ TO THE NO.
My eyes don't hurt. Wearing glasses doesn't hurt and certainly won't kill me. So, I'm good.
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
Random
1. Whenever I say it’s Prince Spaghetti Day people my daughter gives me that 'you're nutty' look.
2. Do you call your mending tape “Scotch” even when you’re using a generic or some other brand?
3. I really don’t like it when folks call the office phone, get the voicemail and only leave their name and number for a message. I would really appreciate some clue as to what the call was about.
4. I prepare for business phone calls. I know what the subject is and what I’m going to say in the event I get voicemail.
5. I get annoyed when solicitors show up to the office trying to solicit disregarding the –NO SOLICITORS- signage plastered on the door.
6. I get even more annoyed when they ask “is there someone else who might be interested?” after I politely, but firmly show them the way out.
7. I know, I know they’ve got a job to do. Kids with candy, guys & gals with office supplies (& deals on phone service), gals with perfume and gals (never guys) with art, I wonder…successful, any?
8. Doesn’t “satisfaction guaranteed, or your money back!” mean all your money if you return something due to dissatisfaction? You know where you can stick your re-stock charge.
9. Snyder’s Hot Buffalo Wing pretzel pieces don’t taste much like buffalo wings, but they are tasty.
10. How many different “Yellow Pages” directories are there? Is there any way to STOP them from appearing on the doorstep?
11. Having a cat around to scratch my elbow in the morning has totally eliminated the need for an alarm clock.
12. Problem is he starts at around 3:30 – 4:00 most mornings. My usual rise time is 5:15
13. We don’t have spaghetti (Prince or otherwise) much since M moved.
14. Neta and I haven’t laid eyes, hands or lips on one another in 105, 106, 107, 10sooo many days.
15. Each passing day brings us closer to the laying on of eyes, hands and lips. Yum.
16. I got tickled when an automatic dialer called the home phone. It got my answer machine because I don’t answer non distinctive rings, as you know. The automated voice thanked my machine for holding on and seconds later a guy’s voice said, “Hello. Hello? HELLLLLOOOO?” It’s on the machine. D and I laughed out loud. It was a slow day, what can I say.
17. Remember in the movie “Soapdish” where the Sally Field character is anguished over how her boyfriend broke up with her…”On the machine, Rose, On the maaaachiiine!?!”
18. I haven’t watched NBA games consistently for several years now. Yet, one co-worker persists in asking me about them.
19. After checking the Sky’s schedule, it is doubtful I’ll be able to make even one game this season, though I will try. I wish the home meeting with L.A. wasn't on a Tuesday. Hmm..vacation day 6/4?
20. Neta in 23, 22, 21 and counting . . .
2. Do you call your mending tape “Scotch” even when you’re using a generic or some other brand?
3. I really don’t like it when folks call the office phone, get the voicemail and only leave their name and number for a message. I would really appreciate some clue as to what the call was about.
4. I prepare for business phone calls. I know what the subject is and what I’m going to say in the event I get voicemail.
5. I get annoyed when solicitors show up to the office trying to solicit disregarding the –NO SOLICITORS- signage plastered on the door.
6. I get even more annoyed when they ask “is there someone else who might be interested?” after I politely, but firmly show them the way out.
7. I know, I know they’ve got a job to do. Kids with candy, guys & gals with office supplies (& deals on phone service), gals with perfume and gals (never guys) with art, I wonder…successful, any?
8. Doesn’t “satisfaction guaranteed, or your money back!” mean all your money if you return something due to dissatisfaction? You know where you can stick your re-stock charge.
9. Snyder’s Hot Buffalo Wing pretzel pieces don’t taste much like buffalo wings, but they are tasty.
10. How many different “Yellow Pages” directories are there? Is there any way to STOP them from appearing on the doorstep?
11. Having a cat around to scratch my elbow in the morning has totally eliminated the need for an alarm clock.
12. Problem is he starts at around 3:30 – 4:00 most mornings. My usual rise time is 5:15
13. We don’t have spaghetti (Prince or otherwise) much since M moved.
14. Neta and I haven’t laid eyes, hands or lips on one another in 105, 106, 107, 10sooo many days.
15. Each passing day brings us closer to the laying on of eyes, hands and lips. Yum.
16. I got tickled when an automatic dialer called the home phone. It got my answer machine because I don’t answer non distinctive rings, as you know. The automated voice thanked my machine for holding on and seconds later a guy’s voice said, “Hello. Hello? HELLLLLOOOO?” It’s on the machine. D and I laughed out loud. It was a slow day, what can I say.
17. Remember in the movie “Soapdish” where the Sally Field character is anguished over how her boyfriend broke up with her…”On the machine, Rose, On the maaaachiiine!?!”
18. I haven’t watched NBA games consistently for several years now. Yet, one co-worker persists in asking me about them.
19. After checking the Sky’s schedule, it is doubtful I’ll be able to make even one game this season, though I will try. I wish the home meeting with L.A. wasn't on a Tuesday. Hmm..vacation day 6/4?
20. Neta in 23, 22, 21 and counting . . .
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Eye Have It
It’s that time again. Scratchy eyes, sneezing, drier skin…allergies. I don’t complain (much) because my case is mild compared to others. Still, for a few weeks my overall comfort level is compromised by the condition. Making matters worse is I need new eyeglasses. I’m going on three years with the current prescription and that is at least a year too long. The pressure to go is heating up because I broke a pair and now am only down to one. It scares me to have a single pair, should something…
No, I won’t jinx it, but moving to the top of the “things to do/get list” is a trip to an optometrist.
The only question remains…which one?
Monday, April 21, 2008
It's Official
Me, the daughter, the dog and now the cat, all overweight. Not, mind you, by much, but still over our respective recommended amounts. I think a contest is in order. The daughter and the dog might happily agree. Somehow, I think we’ll have some trouble with the cat.
To be continued . . .
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