Think Again

We (me and Neta) have had a few conversations about my conservative taste in clothes, over and under wear. I don't deny favoring comfort and function over style. I prefer slacks over skirts and dresses. I prefer plain shirts over frilly blouses. I prefer pockets, nice deep pockets. I prefer flat shoes. Actually, I can / will only wear flat shoes. She's decided that I should break out of my box (so to speak) now and again. I don't totally disagree and as luck fate would have it a new catalog arrived in the mail yesterday.

I don't, however, think any of these selections quite fill the bill.
At least not for day wear.

. . .there's sumpin' 'bout your love that makes me weak and knocks me off my feet. S. Wonder

Laverne And Dion

During my child and teen years mom held very few ‘regular jobs’. We were on public assistance. She got money, food stamps and a medical card cover our basic needs. It was hardly ever enough.

To supplement the meager income my mom sold things when she could. As she was ‘sick’ much of the time ‘when she could’ was not very often. Still, when she was up and about she worked at home based merchandising.

There was of course the grand poobahs of home based business, TupperWare, Avon and Mary Kay. Mom also dabbled with lesser known entities to distribute sexy lingerie and ‘adult’ themed candles. And then there was Empress Pearls.

Mom gave Empress Pearl parties. There was food, drink and a tank for the ‘oysters’ containing precious ‘pearls’. Guests played games to win a chance to dive for oysters. The idea was to sell them jewelry for whatever ‘pearls’ were scored. As I recall.

In addition of offering food and drink, mom also offered entertainment.

Entertainment came in the form of Laverne and Dion, the last white people in the ‘hood’. They were a mother / son duo who sang, danced, told jokes and executed basic feats of magic. Mom met them in a bar she frequented, performing for beers and loose change. Laverne was in her late 50’s, wore short flippy skirts, blouses with ruffles and white moccasins. Think a younger, slightly less made up, slightly less psychotic Bette Davis as 'Baby Jane' Hudson and you’ve basically got Laverne. Dion, in his early to mid-twenties was studying to become a clown. He wore plaid shirts and always smelled of pickles. Think Weird Al Yankovic without the glasses, longer, greasier looking hair, scruffier presentation and you’ve basically got Dion.

They were . . . something.

Mom paid them with whatever was on the menu, usually fried chicken (or fish), greens, cornbread and of course, beer.

The Empress Pearl business didn’t last long for a number of reasons, not the least of which, very few of mom’s guests could justify spending what little money they had on ‘pearl’ earrings and necklaces too many times, and her pool of new suckers customers was very small.

But while it lasted those parties were scream riots.

Oh. My.

Happy Monday

Stop at McD’s for coffee on the way to work
Me: medium coffee, 1 cream on the side please.
Cashier: I’m sorry, what?
Me: medium coffee, 1 cream on the side.
Cashier: sugar?
Me: No. No sugar, just one cream.
Cashier: You don’t want sugar?
Me: NO. Please, just one cream
Cashier: Soooo no sugar?
Me: NO just one cream on the side.

He takes my money, goes to pour the coffee, adds the lid, and passes me the cup. I wait for a few seconds to see if he’ll go to the cooler for the cream, he does not and so I ask, yet again, for the cream.

There was a similar incident at the local sandwich shop today. After supervising the construction of my sandwich (you want it grilled? No. No grill? NO. You don’t want it grilled? No. I slide on to the cashier to finish:

Cashier: Anything else?
Me: Apples and water
Cashier: You want chips?
Me: No, apples and water
Cashier: You don’t want chips?
Me: NO apples and water.
Cashier: Ok, you get that from cooler.

Moral: make your own freakin’ coffee and lunch at home, especially on Mondays.

Aside: A customer ahead of me at McD’s ordered 14 sugars for his coffee. If I had to have 14 sugars to make my coffee palatable, I’d drink soda. Maybe that’s just me.

It's in the Air

It's exciting and new, come aboard....



OC over at Bear's Mountain has passed this honor on to me and I pass it on to all of you who read here and elsewhere, those of you who take the time and make the effort to comment and especially those of you who post your own thoughts, dreams, desires, tips, photos and more.



Love to love you. Cheers!

One Week

Distinctive tone:
Me: Hi son
Son: Hey, hey howzit goin’?
Me: Pretty good, how about with you?
Son: Good. Good. Soooo, frying pork chops, pretty much like frying chicken?
Me: Yep, pretty much.
Son: Cool, thanks. ~~he goes on for another hour or so with stories about work, auditions and friends. He signs off to finish the chops & prepping the rest of his dinner.

A couple days later, distinctive tone:
Me: Hello son
Son: Hey. Hey. Howzit goin’?
Me: Pretty good, how about with you?
Son: Good. Good. Sooo…how do you make gravy?
Me: ~~I’ll spare you the deets, suffice to say, I tell him.
Son: Cool, thanks. He goes on for another hour or so with more stories about work, the audition, fellow actors and former classmates. He signs off to relax by watching “Weeds” (a recently discovered, new obsession) before hitting the hay.

A few days later, distinctive tone:
Me: Hello son
Son: Hiya, howzit goin’?
Me: pretty good, and with you? How are you?
Son: Good. Good. Tired, but good.
Me: Glad to hear it, the good part. Not the tired.
Son: Soooo Labor Day, you going to barbeque?
Me: No son, I don’t have a grill. Remember?
Son: Oh yeah, soooo you cooking?
Me: Uhm, no, I hadn’t really planned on cooking.
Son: Not even spaghetti?
Me: Well, I guess I could.
Son: Fried Chicken?
Me: Sure, I could fry some chicken and maybe make up some potato salad or cole (or broccoli) slaw.
Son: YESSS!!
Me: And you know, that pie is still here (apple, frozen) from Independence Day.
Son: Yes, I know! He might be drooling, not sure. Soooo, you’re cooking?
Me: Yes, I suppose I am.
Son: Cool. Cool. ~~he goes on for another hour or so with more stories about work, the audition (still no word, what’s up with that?), a particular (different) former classmate, his dad and shared that one of his co-worker’s proclaimed that he’d make a good husband someday, to which we both nod (I’m sure he’s nodding or maybe shaking) me in agreement, he not so much, but, sure…ok, maybe. He makes signing off noises but not before confirming that yes, I am cooking.

I say my good-byes but not before suggesting that perhaps he could bring a dish to share.

We sign off to some hearty laughter. Well, at least the pie will be gone, finally.

Gold and "The Boys"

With Abby out due to an injury I didn't expect the ladies to make it to the gold medal game, let alone pull off a win against the extremely quick, tenacious and physical arch rival, Brazil. Cheers!!

The Boys, as they have come to be known, are getting along famously. Buttah tends to take a more submissive stance in during their wrestling matches but it is clear he is no pushover. Pete, never able to get the drops on Diva Diamond, he's enjoying the power, even if it is fake.

Pete came to us one year ago today. Since then he's made a nuisance of himself, himself known what with the leg humping, midnight crawling, 4 a.m. cat calls for feeding (or whatever) and any number of his annoying amazing feline feats. Since then he's been pushed around by a short, stout, curly dog and has been able to mix it up with the orange eating machine*. Since then he's celebrated a birthday an has been able to avoid being dressed like a taco doll.

Since then he has allowed me to hug him so long as I don't hold on too tightly or for too long.

Since then he has become one of "the boys" though they are still out numbered by us girls.

*Buttah EATS much, but not for much longer. It's not a diet, it's a lifestyle.

One Hundred Foods

. . . you should? eat. Sassy asked and so here's my list. The foods I've eaten are in bold. Some of these I've not heard of before and now I'm intrigued. I still might not eat them after I learn what they are, but at least then I'd know what it is I'm not eating.

1. Venison
2. Nettle tea
3. Huevos racheros
4. Steak tartare
5. Crocodile
6. Black pudding
7. Cheese fondue
8. Carp
9. Borscht
10. Baba ghanoush
11. Calamari
12. Pho
13. Peanut butter and jelly sandwich
14. Aloo gobi
15. Hot dog from a street cart
16. Epoisses
17. Black truffle
18. Fruit wine made from something other than grapes
19. Steamed pork buns
20. Pistachio ice cream
21. Heirloom tomatoes
22. Fresh wild berries
23. Foi gras
24. Rice and beans
25. Brawn or head cheese
26. Raw Scotch Bonnet pepper
27. Dulce le leche
28. Oysters
29. Baklava
30. Bagna cauda
31. Wasabi peas
32. Clam chowder in a sourdough bowl
33. Salted lassi (mango lassi and sweet lassi)
34. Sauerkraut
35. Root beer float
36. Cognac with a fat cigar
37. Clotted cream tea
38. Vodka jelly
39. Gumbo
40. Oxtail
41. Curried goat
42. Whole insects
43. Phaal
44. Goat's milk
45. Malt whisky from a bottle worl $120 or more
46. Fugu
47. Chicken tikka masala
48. Eel
49. Krispy Kreme original glazed doughnut
50. Sea urchin
51. Prickly pear
52. Umeboshi
53. Abalone
54. Paneer
55. McDonald's Big Mac Meal
56. Spaetzle
57. Dirty gin martini
58. Beer above 8% ABV
59. Poutine
60. Carob chips
61. S'mores
62. Sweetbreads
63. Kaolin
64. Currywurst
65. Durian
66. Frogs' legs
67. Beignets, churros, elephant ears or funnel cake
68. Haggis
69. Fried plantain
70. Chitterlings or andouillette
71. Gazpacho
72. Caviar and blini
73. Louche absinthe
74. Gjetost or brunost
75. Roadkill
76. Baijiu
77. Hostess Fruit Pie
78. Snail
79. Lapsang souchong
80. Bellini
81. Tom yum
82. Eggs Benedict
83. Pocky
84. Tasting meno at a three-Michelin-star restaurant
85. Kobe beef
86. Hare
87. Goulash
88.Flowers
89. Horse
90. Criollo chocolate
91. Spam
92. Soft shell crab
93. Rose harissa
94. Catfish
95. Mole poblano
96. Bagel and lox
97. Lobster Thermidor
98. Polenta
99. Jamaican Blue mountain coffee
100. Snake

Loop-de-Loop

There's a mirror moving inside my mind

Reflecting the love that you shine on me

Hold on now to that feelin'

Let it flow, let it grow, ya, ya

My heart is on fire

My soul's like a wheel that's turnin'

My love is alive

My love is alive, ya, ya, ya

My love is alive

My love is alive

My love is alive

My love is alive

My love is alive

My love is alive

My love is alive

last verse, refrain from Gary Wright's "Love Is Alive"

Way Back When

For my birthday this year mom gave me photos, mostly of me. Many I didn't even know she had, just as many I didn't remember ever striking the pose. Some of the photos were copies of those I'd given to her some years prior. Mom's been purging, giving away photos, trinkets and other boxed evidence of lives once lived.
I started drawing and painting more, thirty-four years ago completing my first year in high school. A favorite teacher talked me into entering art and craft fairs. Lo and behold I won a few. Mom was there for at least one award ceremony. She came with me once to the Art Institute and from that moment on, she deemed me, "weird."

Daughter asks, "was that a velour shirt?" Indeed it was and while don't remember this the circumstances of this photo, but I do remember that shirt. No doubt it was a hand-me-down from someone, though not my older brother because I was bigger. Mom framed this photo as if daughter needed any further evidence of my lifetime geek-dom.

Twenty years ago I was twenty-eight years old with a young son and even younger daughter. Though un-raveling day by day, the seams of marriage held for nearly another decade more. Besides the joys experienced by being an active participant in the growth of aforementioned son and daughter that decade yielded little in the way of bliss. It was probably the most troubling of the four I've spent in this here life. The three years between 15 and 18 were no cakewalk though.

As you may have guessed looking at the photos has kicked up a dusting of memories. Some good, some bad, some vivid and some a tad fuzzy. The memories and the photos sparking same are evidence of a life once lived, for better or worse, it is the way it was.

Dinner Possible

I love burgers. Love them. Daughter said Tuesday morning that there would be burgers for dinner. Ground beef marinated with buffalo chicken wing sauce, fried with mushrooms and onions, topped with crumbled bleu cheese and served on a whole wheat bun.

Oh goody.

I thought about my burger all day. A light lunch of a pb&j (apple) sandwich and a glass of skim milk barely kept me going. I did manage to survive until check out time, by which I was more than ready for that burger. The train ride and long walk home seemed to take longer than usual, nearly too long.

One step inside our vestibule however dashed all hopes of a hot, dripping with juices burger, spicily sauced and surrounded by steak fries, sour cream, salsa and extra bleu cheese, for I was met by the unmistakable stench of burnt beef. Damn. I moped up the steps, un-did the locks, entered the unit and said a less than hearty hello to all the fur babies. Daughter, who was coming from the kitchen, was treated to my mournful expression. The question scorched the lips but refused to be spoken. She said emphatically, “I don’t want to talk about it!”

Damn. I couldn’t chide her. I know how these things happen. I’d had an unfortunate run-in with some green beans a few days ago, and some grits days before that. It has been a burned beyond recognition festival around here lately. What’s going on? Heck if I know.

It wasn’t a total disaster. She was able to salvage some of the dinner. It wasn’t bad, but certainly wasn’t what I’d been salivating about for the better part of a day.

Rumor has it she’ll try again today. I’m trying hard not to think about outcomes, good or bad.

Bon Appetit.

New Hires

We hired FOUR new guys in July. Not 4 in addition to the 8 who were here prior but 4 to replace 3 and one extra. The extra is a part-timer so in essence it is only 3 and a half, I suppose.

The first new guy was to replace a planned resignation. One of the old guys decided he wanted to attend school full-time, to pursue a Master’s degree in Voice. Once told of his plans we (eventually –too long for my taste, but whatever and the recruiting process? gosh I hope I don't ever have to do this again with this crew) set off to find a new guy. He gave us much notice (March), as this old guy was an instrumental guy in several vital areas of operation. Technically, the new guy isn’t a replacement in as much as he’s a body to be trained over a period of time to see where his motivations and ambitions will carry him. After about a month I feel that things seem to be progressing apace or in other words, so far, so good.

New guy number two had to replace terminated guy. Terminated guy has been a thorn in our side for nearly 3 years. Had it been my choice, terminated guy would have been terminated 3 years ago, but warning after warning after warning after warning later, he finally was put in a position were he “chose to resign.” He left the building, marched over to the un-employment office to file his claim, which I denied. He appealed. I was asked by a state official to supply documentation to substantiate our justification for his separation. I did and so far, the state is siding with the company. Our second choice for First New Guy was hired. He seems to be fitting in nicely and again, so far so good.

New guy number three had to be hired to replace a surprise resignation. A long-time member of the team decided that it was time for him to retire, now, which was at the time, just shy of our busiest time of year. I think he got a bug up his ass about something the boss said and / or did and he just got fed up with that kind of shit (the boss is notorious for ranting about something before he checks all his facts, then apologizing after the fact) and decided he had enough bucks to retire. He’s been talking about it for awhile now, but the timing for our operations was not terribly convenient. A rush new hire can be dangerous. There was no third choice as the qualifications from those applications recently reviewed wouldn’t fit in this case, plus which we felt we’d pretty much shot the wad with choices one and two. New guy number three was a former employee of our former company, so he was a somewhat known entity. He’s a friend of a current employee, who has vouched for his ability and eagerness. He’s been thrown into the deep end, but again, so far, so good.

New guy number 4 (the half guy) is a very good friend of the boss. The boss felt like his friend (“very smart guy”) could just pick up the ball and run with it wherever we needed it to be run. It’s been nearly a month and yet once again, so far, so good.

I mention all this because it occurs to me that I haven’t had to get used to new people in the work-place in awhile. Our previous last new hires were in 2005. To have 4 (well, 3 ½) all at once is kind of…weird. The weirdest is that they don’t know me and are a little bit…intimidated by me or rather, I suspect, my position. I’ve tried to put them all at ease and assure them that I’m happy to answer their questions, assist them in any way that we are a team and yes, that so far, so good.

Feels Like Monday, May Even Rain

One of my co-workers steps into the doorway to let me know about the call parked on line one, “she wants to complain about a bill, or something.”

Me: I’m Deborah, how may I help you?

Caller: I got a bill from you people some time ago you with sales tax. Well, this is a school and we’re exempt. I faxed you a copy of the bill and the “tax letter”. Well, I got another bill and there is still tax. Could you take care of this?

Me: May I have the order / invoice number please?

Caller: uhm…uhm…hold on… oh, here it is… is it…109918?

::I take a few moments to punch in 109918:: I discover, well, read on..

Caller: Oh wait, I think you…oh, the tax has been taken off. (In her fax she'd asked for 1. the tax to be removed and 2. a revised bill be sent. Since *I* do all that stuffs for the company, I know, for a f-a-c-t that the bill read: REVISED and a note was included--something about paying said bill.)

Me: Yes ma’am. (Inside I’m thinking how honored I am to have been chosen for this game, today. YaY!!!)

Caller goes on to gush about how sexy my co-worker sounds, “Is he tall? Dark? Young?”

Me: 1 for 3. Thank you for calling, we value your business, have a nice…yada x 3.

Sibli-Friends

Buttah, not Butter as previously reported, is trying to adjust to the life of an indoor cat. Has has been interviewing Diamond girl for some insight on her life outside. Buttah and Pete are doing what I've been told is a typical male cat dance. There aren't any decent pics of their tango just yet. Everyone seems to be playing nice. This is pleasing.

One. More. Pet.

This is Butter. I came home this evening to find him...here. This, after I expressly and quite distinctly said, "no more pets."

The back story, if you're interested; D found him a few weeks ago wandering in a neighborhood where she was house-sitting. He didn't have tags and he seemed...lost, which obviously, he was. She scooped him up and took him to the (her) shelter. She scanned him for a micro-chip and came up empty. She fed him, gave him water and cleaned him up a bit. She isolated him and over the next several days the vet ran the usual checks and tests. He was deemed healthy.

Having not been claimed and deemed adoptable, preparations were made to take him out of isolation. D told the staff she was interested and asked them to put him on hold him. She told me about him last week and asked me to meet him, which I agreed to do, saying all along, "no more pets." Tactical error, I fully admit.

After a very tearful meet-and-greet session she finally said, "ok, I understand", though I think we both knew it wasn't the end. "Mom, I found him" were the last words she uttered on the subject until I came home today and found him, here. And here he is, meeting Pete and Diamond. Pete is curiously cautious or cautiously curious depending on your point of view and Diamond wants to hump his butt. Butter (ha ha coincidence) is having none of that.

I am angry but that will pass. Butter at approximately 18 months is younger than Pete by nearly a year and is very cuddly and has the cutest little mew.

Daughter and her crew will be moving, someday. Sooner.

In the meantime, no. more. pets. And that's final.

August

I had a chilling thought this morning. Soon, I must begin the process of pulling out for assessment my fall and winter wardrobe. I know already that I need shoes, everyday walking in the rain and snow type-shoes. More slacks and maybe more sweaters too. I probably should have started a few weeks ago, but I haven’t wanted to think about it. Not about the winter, so much, I’m used to that. I am not looking forward to the shopping.

NO I do not like shopping at all. I am, however, least bothered by shoe shopping. I even almost enjoy shopping for shoes. That though, is probably because I feed off daughter’s energy. She takes shoe shopping pleasure to a whole. nutha. level. Truth be told she's like that about clothes shopping too, but that joy, for some reason doesn't pull me in as much.

While I was doing the touristy thing last week, I met some women on a trolley. They were sisters traveling with their children and they were from Tennessee, Nashville, in fact. They asked among other things, if I’d ever been to Nashville. I told them of my very special friend who lives just outside Nashville and yes, I’d been down there many times in the last couple of years.

They asked if I’d been to any of the clubs (a couple) and offered that I might enjoy living in the Nashville area. They said in unison, “the winters are really mild.” I told them that I was hoping to convince my TN friend to come here for a spell during the winter. I was thinking how fetching she’d look in boots and a fuzzy hat.

That thought warms me, though the 80 plus degree temps today (and through the weekend) plays a part in that warmth. Yum. Enjoying it much, while it lasts.

Squish Squash

Is there anything worse than walking out your front door, getting very near the train station and having the cloudy and overcast day darken to night?

Yes and that is getting off the train at your appointed stop some 10 minutes later in the midst of a down-pour. A big, honking, gushing, windy and horizontal sort of down-pour. I was met with even darker skies, thunder and lightening as well. Not a pleasant beginning for the first day back after the mini-vacation.

I hate, absolutely HATE getting wet on the way to work.
.
.
.
Thanks all for the happy birthday wishes. It and the days that followed were fine and fun. I realized this morning that over the course of the last five days I did not have even one piece of chocolate cake. I did however, have peach cobbler which was good and some kind of brown sugary, cinnamon, pound-y type cake (both at the anniversary party) which was not good, in fact it was nasty, very. I would rather have had an armadillo cake, at least there would have been something to talk about. Speaking of cakes, I ran across this site recently. Hmmm.

Anyhooo, now it is back to the daily grind which on this day meant wet, squishy . . . shoes for a good portion of the morning. Thanks to my heater I'll be dry before I have to go back out. I hope the rain has moved onward for today, at least until I'm back home.

eb told me so

In a little more than an hour I will turn the clock on forty-eight. Then I'll be looking down the barrel of forty-nine. That time will probably rock me more than this. Maybe. Perhaps. I'm not that bothered by forty-eight and truth be told, don't think I'll be that bothered by forty-nine. I seemed pretty cool about the whole prospect of another birthday, then eb wrote: I was just reading where us older lesbos are all the hot rage these days. Oh yeah, sexxxy.
My mom gave me that card you see above there. For the third year running, she's given me that same card. She has giggled and beamed each time, "I love that card!" Which if you really knew my mom you'd find fantastically ironic. Never-the-less, I agree...it is indeed how you are old. In keeping with that sentiment and eb's news I've decided to take my sexily banded, soon to be forty-eight year old knees walking and riding over the better part of two, three (or more

towns over the next few days to celebrate my day(s). Yes, turning 48 requires more than a single day. I'm going to play tourist of sorts, see and do things that I don't normally have time to do when I'm working. There will also be separate celebratory meals with daughter, son & mom and even a 50th wedding anniversary family party. Yum!

If there is a lamentable fact about turning 48, it is that Neta isn't here to celebrate with me, us. To borrow a phrase, soon forever. I can't wait until when next we meet, sweetheart. Love to you m'dear.

Brevity

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

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.