Just so you won't wonder if I'm still alive, and to thank you for regularly checking for new posts (all 2 or 3 of you, that is), I'll give you a small taste of what my last five or six days have consisted of, in chronological order. I fear it would be difficult to order them any other way, for they are so very different from each other.
1) Enchanted (So stupid it worked. I laughed my head off.)
2) Paris, Je T'aime (Pretty good ... not as good as I hoped.)
3) Juno (Even my husband said, "Hilarious," which is big coming from him. Tears, too ... well, at least from me.)
4) Ratatouille (The parts I was awake for, I enjoyed.)
5) P. S. I Love You (More laughter, more tears. Deserves more credit than the chick-flick -hating critics gave it.)
6) The Great Debaters (Can I just say, "Wow"? And dadgummit, more tears.)
Six down, six to go. (And that doesn't count the additional DVDs on tap.)
I'm working on another post of a more serious nature, so keep your eyes peeled. (That started out as "pealed," but I checked and it's peeled, indeed, as painful as that sounds.)
Sunday, December 30, 2007
Saturday, December 22, 2007
Here we come a-yelling?
Kristen and I were out doing some holiday errands and stopped for hamburgers at the Burger King drive-through. While we were there, an incident happened that reminded me not only of who we are, and who we are to be, but also that it's better to go postal vicariously through other people.
The lady ahead of us had great difficulty placing her order. She repeated the whole thing several times, and the poor employee kept getting it wrong. The last time he repeated it back to her, the lady simply yelled at the top of her lungs, "TWO NUMBER ONES!!!!" (and although she didn't say it, you could hear the rest of it in her voice, "... you $%#$ %$%*@!!"
To his credit, the employee replied calmly. "Okay, two number ones, and what drink would you like with the second one?" And amazingly, she answered him calmly.
I have to say that after she yelled, I laughed my head off. She really didn't sound like she was about to go to the window and do anything violent, she was just fed up--not only with the BK employee, but with holiday stress in general. It was her moment to let it all go. (I hope, but then again, perhaps this is her usual M.O.)
In the long run, it was not only a release for her, but for me, too, and it reminded me of how hard it is to keep your cool during this time of year. We are supposed to be thinking about peace and love and all the good stuff, but instead are running around like headless chickens trying to get everything finished. It all seems so critical in the days leading up to Christmas, but so unimportant when it's all over.
In these last few days of the season, temember who you are to be, and let someone else do the yelling.
Here we come a-wassailing
Among the leaves so green,
Here we come a-wand'ring
So fair to be seen.
Love and joy come to you,
And to you your wassail, too,
And God bless you, and send you
A Happy New Year,
And God send you a Happy New Year.
We are not daily beggers
That beg from door to door,
But we are neighbors' children
Whom you have seen before
Love and joy come to you,
And to you your wassail, too,
And God bless you, and send you
A Happy New Year,
And God send you a Happy New Year.
Good master and good mistress,
As you sit beside the fire,
Pray think of us poor children
Who wander in the mire.
Love and joy come to you,
And to you your wassail, too,
And God bless you, and send you
A Happy New Year,
And God send you a Happy New Year
The lady ahead of us had great difficulty placing her order. She repeated the whole thing several times, and the poor employee kept getting it wrong. The last time he repeated it back to her, the lady simply yelled at the top of her lungs, "TWO NUMBER ONES!!!!" (and although she didn't say it, you could hear the rest of it in her voice, "... you $%#$ %$%*@!!"
To his credit, the employee replied calmly. "Okay, two number ones, and what drink would you like with the second one?" And amazingly, she answered him calmly.
I have to say that after she yelled, I laughed my head off. She really didn't sound like she was about to go to the window and do anything violent, she was just fed up--not only with the BK employee, but with holiday stress in general. It was her moment to let it all go. (I hope, but then again, perhaps this is her usual M.O.)
In the long run, it was not only a release for her, but for me, too, and it reminded me of how hard it is to keep your cool during this time of year. We are supposed to be thinking about peace and love and all the good stuff, but instead are running around like headless chickens trying to get everything finished. It all seems so critical in the days leading up to Christmas, but so unimportant when it's all over.
In these last few days of the season, temember who you are to be, and let someone else do the yelling.
Here we come a-wassailing
Among the leaves so green,
Here we come a-wand'ring
So fair to be seen.
Love and joy come to you,
And to you your wassail, too,
And God bless you, and send you
A Happy New Year,
And God send you a Happy New Year.
We are not daily beggers
That beg from door to door,
But we are neighbors' children
Whom you have seen before
Love and joy come to you,
And to you your wassail, too,
And God bless you, and send you
A Happy New Year,
And God send you a Happy New Year.
Good master and good mistress,
As you sit beside the fire,
Pray think of us poor children
Who wander in the mire.
Love and joy come to you,
And to you your wassail, too,
And God bless you, and send you
A Happy New Year,
And God send you a Happy New Year
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
Fun things
Just a couple of quick things.
First, Blogger announced Dec. 13 you can now use Open ID here, which is nice for those who don't use Blogger accounts. You can make comments using your ID from certain other services. Check it out!
Second, a couple of quick, fun plugs for my faves.
Here's a short promo video made when David Wilcox played at Blue Rock Studios in Wimberley, Texas. (Which sadly, I missed.)
And ... drumroll, please!
Once is available on DVD today. Woo hoo!
First, Blogger announced Dec. 13 you can now use Open ID here, which is nice for those who don't use Blogger accounts. You can make comments using your ID from certain other services. Check it out!
Second, a couple of quick, fun plugs for my faves.
Here's a short promo video made when David Wilcox played at Blue Rock Studios in Wimberley, Texas. (Which sadly, I missed.)
And ... drumroll, please!
Once is available on DVD today. Woo hoo!
Friday, December 14, 2007
Another note to self
Buy Deep Dark Chocolate Cheesecake from the Cheesecake Factory instead of making it.6 measuring cups and spoons, 5 bowls, 4 pans, 3 knives, 2 cutting boards, and a mixer in a partridge tree later...
The cake is cooked. The topping is not.
The back, she is broken.
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
Putting it all in perspective
The easy stuff:
1) Dealing with kids and dismal grades
2) Broken down car
3) Going to the ER to have stitches removed from daughter's face (caused by falling flag in color guard practice last week)
Otherwise known as "my life."
The hard stuff:
Being the parents of LaSharon Powell, a 17-year-old girl killed in an auto accident in our school district this afternoon, or the parents of the other four injured, two critically.
Not my life. Just a reminder to myself.
Please pray for these students and their families. I can't imagine a more horrible way to experience the holiday season than this.
1) Dealing with kids and dismal grades
2) Broken down car
3) Going to the ER to have stitches removed from daughter's face (caused by falling flag in color guard practice last week)
Otherwise known as "my life."
The hard stuff:
Being the parents of LaSharon Powell, a 17-year-old girl killed in an auto accident in our school district this afternoon, or the parents of the other four injured, two critically.
Not my life. Just a reminder to myself.
Please pray for these students and their families. I can't imagine a more horrible way to experience the holiday season than this.
Monday, December 10, 2007
Drowning in Christmas Stuff
EDIT: I removed the image I had on this post. Quite by accident, I figured out a way to increase your blog traffic in amazing numbers, but it's not necessarily the way I wanted to increase it. :-) Just imagine a cozy Christmas scene with stockings hung by the chimney with care, a purdy decorated tree, and lots and lots of other "Christmas stuff."
I've come to the conclusion that I simply have too much "stuff" for Christmas decorating. I used to really look forward to it, and would spend a few days cleaning up the house good, then put the decorations out, and even then I got a little carried away at times. Let's just say one tree has never been enough, shall we?
So, the last few years, Todd gets the boxes down from the attic, and the stuff sits. And sits. And sits. I had grand plans this year to start early, get a box or two at a time down, sort through it, get RID of the "too much stuff" stuff, and it would be easy as pie, right?
Then I got sick, and now it's December 10, and I'm back to the "too much stuff" thing. When I'm out shopping, the shiny, glittery "new stuff" calls me, but mostly, I've resisted this year.
Well, except for that rug. And ... those Christmas tree skirts. (Which now join the two I bought on clearance last year that I totally forgot about until I opened the boxes of too much stuff.) I'm having to give away skirts, and this is the first time ever it's not because I lost or gained weight. (Although that's a story for another day.)
But, yeah, too much Christmas stuff, and thus, a flagging Christmas spirit.
Something's not quite right, don't you think? I'd venture to say it's more than just me with a "too much stuff" problem at Christmas these days.
I've come to the conclusion that I simply have too much "stuff" for Christmas decorating. I used to really look forward to it, and would spend a few days cleaning up the house good, then put the decorations out, and even then I got a little carried away at times. Let's just say one tree has never been enough, shall we?
So, the last few years, Todd gets the boxes down from the attic, and the stuff sits. And sits. And sits. I had grand plans this year to start early, get a box or two at a time down, sort through it, get RID of the "too much stuff" stuff, and it would be easy as pie, right?
Then I got sick, and now it's December 10, and I'm back to the "too much stuff" thing. When I'm out shopping, the shiny, glittery "new stuff" calls me, but mostly, I've resisted this year.
Well, except for that rug. And ... those Christmas tree skirts. (Which now join the two I bought on clearance last year that I totally forgot about until I opened the boxes of too much stuff.) I'm having to give away skirts, and this is the first time ever it's not because I lost or gained weight. (Although that's a story for another day.)
But, yeah, too much Christmas stuff, and thus, a flagging Christmas spirit.
Something's not quite right, don't you think? I'd venture to say it's more than just me with a "too much stuff" problem at Christmas these days.
Wednesday, December 05, 2007
The soapbox inscribed with the golden compass
MY DEAR WORMWOOD
The ways in which we have managed to take the patient’s eye off preparations for celebrating his savior’s birth are simply delightful.
That whole Golden Compass movie hoopla is by far the best plan we have laid in years. Forget boycotting Disneyland, Johnson and Johnson, Barack Obama, (or Kingdom Below forbid, Harry Potter!), or any of the minor scuffles we’ve managed to create over the years. This one is supreme.
If we can keep him indignant about our claims that there is no Enemy Above, he will surely forget to talk about such silliness as the “Enemy Above’s love” for him.
Do remember you are there to fuddle him.
One of our greatest allies at present is the Church itself.
Your affectionate uncle
SCREWTAPE
Yep, that’s a little tongue in cheek, if I do say so myself, and not nearly as good as C.S. Lewis would have done it (except for the parts in italics, which I ripped off from him).
I'm watching the whole Golden Compass movie hoopla unfold, and wondering which of the promoters had the amazing marketing idea of tipping off the Christians.
You see all the rush to boycott the movie? You see how that may just make it the biggest movie of the season? Come on people. This trick has been done before. Forbidden fruit only makes the kids hungrier, and only makes the grownups look more stupid.
I don’t have a huge issue with the emails that describe what the movie’s about, but they are often accompanied by MESSAGES IN CAPITAL LETTERS TELLING ME I SHOULD BOYCOTT THIS MOVIE. Oh, yeah, now my interest is really piqued, along with that of my kids.
If your child wants to see the Golden Compass, I say take her while you still have the opportunity to be a part of her decisionmaking process. If you’ve brought her up believing in God, in whichever faith you subscribe to, have honest conversation with her about what Phillip Pullman might want her to believe. If she’s too young to understand that, she’s too young to see the movie anyway. It doesn’t look like it’s filled with singing dwarfs or rosy-cheeked maidens.
My daughter came home from school the other day and said, “My friend isn’t allowed to go see the Golden Compass.”
“Really?” I said. “If you want to see it, I don’t mind. You are old enough to understand what the author’s trying to get people to believe, aren’t you? That God doesn’t exist. And in the movie, they ‘kill’ God, who turns out to be a phony?” (Which is a kind of strange dichotomy if you think about it. Why kill something that doesn’t exist?)
She said, “Yeah, I know. Well, my friend’s mom doesn’t really care if she sees it, but her church said she isn’t allowed.” (And my daughter is 10. And she’s heard that. And she gets it.)
Who are we kidding? Do you really think the church started this? Hollywood has been playing previews of this movie for months now in the theater, and the books have been out for who knows how long before that. But, why, suddenly, a week or two before the release, is it suddenly an issue for Christians.
Well, we aren’t that quick to start stuff, but we are sure good at jumping on the bandwagon when someone pulls it up to the circle.
Imagine the hoopla if someone had tried to start a boycott against Narnia because it glorified God? Who knows, maybe they (whoever they are) thought about it, but then just laughed at the ridiculousness.
Supposedly, the “plot” is that kids will watch the movie and be drawn into reading the books, which are allegedly more overtly atheistic and anti-Christian. (I'll be honest--I don’t know, I haven’t read them. I can't stand fantasy, but if I need to eventually, I will.)
Again, the crux of the matter is, if you’re not looking at what your kids are reading or watching, and talking about it with them honestly, and hoping and praying they will make good decisions when they can truly think for themselves, then what difference does it make anyway? It’s a free for all.
Discuss amongst yourselves.
(However, be warned that if things get ugly, I’ll delete your comments. I’d just like to hear some honest, heartfelt, yet adult discussion about this debacle.)
The ways in which we have managed to take the patient’s eye off preparations for celebrating his savior’s birth are simply delightful.
That whole Golden Compass movie hoopla is by far the best plan we have laid in years. Forget boycotting Disneyland, Johnson and Johnson, Barack Obama, (or Kingdom Below forbid, Harry Potter!), or any of the minor scuffles we’ve managed to create over the years. This one is supreme.
If we can keep him indignant about our claims that there is no Enemy Above, he will surely forget to talk about such silliness as the “Enemy Above’s love” for him.
Do remember you are there to fuddle him.
One of our greatest allies at present is the Church itself.
Your affectionate uncle
SCREWTAPE
Yep, that’s a little tongue in cheek, if I do say so myself, and not nearly as good as C.S. Lewis would have done it (except for the parts in italics, which I ripped off from him).
I'm watching the whole Golden Compass movie hoopla unfold, and wondering which of the promoters had the amazing marketing idea of tipping off the Christians.
You see all the rush to boycott the movie? You see how that may just make it the biggest movie of the season? Come on people. This trick has been done before. Forbidden fruit only makes the kids hungrier, and only makes the grownups look more stupid.
I don’t have a huge issue with the emails that describe what the movie’s about, but they are often accompanied by MESSAGES IN CAPITAL LETTERS TELLING ME I SHOULD BOYCOTT THIS MOVIE. Oh, yeah, now my interest is really piqued, along with that of my kids.
If your child wants to see the Golden Compass, I say take her while you still have the opportunity to be a part of her decisionmaking process. If you’ve brought her up believing in God, in whichever faith you subscribe to, have honest conversation with her about what Phillip Pullman might want her to believe. If she’s too young to understand that, she’s too young to see the movie anyway. It doesn’t look like it’s filled with singing dwarfs or rosy-cheeked maidens.
My daughter came home from school the other day and said, “My friend isn’t allowed to go see the Golden Compass.”
“Really?” I said. “If you want to see it, I don’t mind. You are old enough to understand what the author’s trying to get people to believe, aren’t you? That God doesn’t exist. And in the movie, they ‘kill’ God, who turns out to be a phony?” (Which is a kind of strange dichotomy if you think about it. Why kill something that doesn’t exist?)
She said, “Yeah, I know. Well, my friend’s mom doesn’t really care if she sees it, but her church said she isn’t allowed.” (And my daughter is 10. And she’s heard that. And she gets it.)
Who are we kidding? Do you really think the church started this? Hollywood has been playing previews of this movie for months now in the theater, and the books have been out for who knows how long before that. But, why, suddenly, a week or two before the release, is it suddenly an issue for Christians.
Well, we aren’t that quick to start stuff, but we are sure good at jumping on the bandwagon when someone pulls it up to the circle.
Imagine the hoopla if someone had tried to start a boycott against Narnia because it glorified God? Who knows, maybe they (whoever they are) thought about it, but then just laughed at the ridiculousness.
Supposedly, the “plot” is that kids will watch the movie and be drawn into reading the books, which are allegedly more overtly atheistic and anti-Christian. (I'll be honest--I don’t know, I haven’t read them. I can't stand fantasy, but if I need to eventually, I will.)
Again, the crux of the matter is, if you’re not looking at what your kids are reading or watching, and talking about it with them honestly, and hoping and praying they will make good decisions when they can truly think for themselves, then what difference does it make anyway? It’s a free for all.
Discuss amongst yourselves.
(However, be warned that if things get ugly, I’ll delete your comments. I’d just like to hear some honest, heartfelt, yet adult discussion about this debacle.)
Sunday, December 02, 2007
Kristen says ...
Gail's blog about her witty grandson Sam reminded me of "Kristen says the darnedst things"--a category I've neglected for a while. :-) Either she's getting older, or I'm getting less observant. I fear it is both. So, to that end, I will regale you of a recent tale.
You know there are two givens when you have kids. (At least.) The first is they will follow you into the bathroom and it will be at least 18 years before you have the assurance you will be able to do your business alone again. Maybe more. Anyway. The second is when you hear a suspicious noise, or silence, whichever the case may be (and often scarier in the second incarnation), and you ask, "What are you doing?" you know what the answer will be, right? Exactly. "Nothing."
Well, this morning Kristen proved one of these points, but she's wised up on the second. I was in the shower and could hear little noises coming from the other side of the (frosted) door. So, in good mom form, I said, "What are you doing?"
She said, "Just standing here. Breathing."
Dadgummit. Just when you think you've got them trained.
And just so the other two won't feel left out:
Ryan texted me the other night, very excited, from college. "Mom, I just found the Denton Piggly Wiggly!" That, my friends, is scary. He's apparently been missing his small town grocery shopping exeriences from East Texas and Alabama.
And Emilie? She is quite the wise one. She recently dumped her boyfriend of more than two years (yeah, she's 14, but I think it's easy to stay committed for two years when you only see them five minutes a day during passing periods). We were talking about it in the car and she said, "I just wasn't interested in such a serious relationship at age 14." Go, girl. And if she kills me for this, it will mysteriously disappear from this blog without warning. :-D (You may wonder, but the kids are always asking me if I'm going to blog things they say, and they almost look happy about it. Watch out, Jerry Springer.)
What would I do without my kids to make me laugh?
You know there are two givens when you have kids. (At least.) The first is they will follow you into the bathroom and it will be at least 18 years before you have the assurance you will be able to do your business alone again. Maybe more. Anyway. The second is when you hear a suspicious noise, or silence, whichever the case may be (and often scarier in the second incarnation), and you ask, "What are you doing?" you know what the answer will be, right? Exactly. "Nothing."
Well, this morning Kristen proved one of these points, but she's wised up on the second. I was in the shower and could hear little noises coming from the other side of the (frosted) door. So, in good mom form, I said, "What are you doing?"
She said, "Just standing here. Breathing."
Dadgummit. Just when you think you've got them trained.
And just so the other two won't feel left out:
Ryan texted me the other night, very excited, from college. "Mom, I just found the Denton Piggly Wiggly!" That, my friends, is scary. He's apparently been missing his small town grocery shopping exeriences from East Texas and Alabama.
And Emilie? She is quite the wise one. She recently dumped her boyfriend of more than two years (yeah, she's 14, but I think it's easy to stay committed for two years when you only see them five minutes a day during passing periods). We were talking about it in the car and she said, "I just wasn't interested in such a serious relationship at age 14." Go, girl. And if she kills me for this, it will mysteriously disappear from this blog without warning. :-D (You may wonder, but the kids are always asking me if I'm going to blog things they say, and they almost look happy about it. Watch out, Jerry Springer.)
What would I do without my kids to make me laugh?
Monday, November 26, 2007
Overheard in Austin
I almost forgot ... when we were there a few weekends ago at the Nickel Creek concert at Stubb's, about an hour before the concert actually started.
Girl behind us: My feet are killing me.
Guy behind us: Why?
Girl: These are my bar heels.
Guy: Okay ... ?
Girl: I'm usually drunk when I'm wearing them.
That makes perfect sense. I guess.
Girl behind us: My feet are killing me.
Guy behind us: Why?
Girl: These are my bar heels.
Guy: Okay ... ?
Girl: I'm usually drunk when I'm wearing them.
That makes perfect sense. I guess.
Sunday, November 25, 2007
Let us pause...
...to commemorate two momentous happenings.
1) It's Thanksgiving weekend, and I did not had a single bite of turkey for the first time ever in my whole entire life. We had a sumptuous garlic encrusted pork loin at my FIL's on the actual Turkey day. We actually bought a turkey to make today, but got lazy and stuck it back in the freezer last night (it wasn't at all thawed anyway) and heated up a ham instead. At the last minute, though, I started acting like a mom whose son was home from college for his first Thanksgiving, and we pulled out the ingredients we thought we might stash away for a traditional turkey dinner at Christmas. We made green bean casserole (Todd's dad's favorite. Or not.), creamed corn, smashed potatoes, fruit salad, rolls, and last, but certainly not least, Todd's creation--pumpkin cheesecake. My mom commented that it tasted just like Cheesecake Factory's, and Todd and I exclaimed, a little sarcastically, "How crazy!" It was, in fact, their recipe.
2) We have a Christmas tree up and decorated the Saturday following Thansgiving for the first time in about six or seven years. It's not the "real" tree--the one with crazy colored lights and ornaments handmade since age two by everyone in the household--that one will follow in a couple of weeks so it's not too dry by the 25th. No, this is the fancy schmancy one that gets to shine in the front window with white twinkly lights for passersby to admire and say "ooh! aah!" as they wistfully stare and wish they had theirs up already. Okay, so we finally finished at 12:30 a.m., but it is done. (And besides, when did we ever do anything early in the day?) I told Todd that this is what happens when I'm not stressed out and I'm doing the work I love. :-)
Ha. You thought I was going to say, ""Let us pause to give thanks," or something cheezy like that, huh?
(But yeah, let us. We have a lot to be thankful for.)
1) It's Thanksgiving weekend, and I did not had a single bite of turkey for the first time ever in my whole entire life. We had a sumptuous garlic encrusted pork loin at my FIL's on the actual Turkey day. We actually bought a turkey to make today, but got lazy and stuck it back in the freezer last night (it wasn't at all thawed anyway) and heated up a ham instead. At the last minute, though, I started acting like a mom whose son was home from college for his first Thanksgiving, and we pulled out the ingredients we thought we might stash away for a traditional turkey dinner at Christmas. We made green bean casserole (Todd's dad's favorite. Or not.), creamed corn, smashed potatoes, fruit salad, rolls, and last, but certainly not least, Todd's creation--pumpkin cheesecake. My mom commented that it tasted just like Cheesecake Factory's, and Todd and I exclaimed, a little sarcastically, "How crazy!" It was, in fact, their recipe.
2) We have a Christmas tree up and decorated the Saturday following Thansgiving for the first time in about six or seven years. It's not the "real" tree--the one with crazy colored lights and ornaments handmade since age two by everyone in the household--that one will follow in a couple of weeks so it's not too dry by the 25th. No, this is the fancy schmancy one that gets to shine in the front window with white twinkly lights for passersby to admire and say "ooh! aah!" as they wistfully stare and wish they had theirs up already. Okay, so we finally finished at 12:30 a.m., but it is done. (And besides, when did we ever do anything early in the day?) I told Todd that this is what happens when I'm not stressed out and I'm doing the work I love. :-)
Ha. You thought I was going to say, ""Let us pause to give thanks," or something cheezy like that, huh?
(But yeah, let us. We have a lot to be thankful for.)
Sunday, November 18, 2007
Tourists R Us
How can you live in a place for years and not visit what tourists come for miles to see? We're pretty good at it. Nonetheless, we made several traditional Texas stops on our weekend trip.
First, it was Stubb's BBQ for an amazing concert Thursday night. We saw Glenn Hansard (of The Frames) and Marketa Irglova, who perform together as Swell Season, together with several other Frames band members. Glenn and Marketa are the pair who star in Once, the movie I raved over several times a few months ago. It's coming on DVD December 18. Get it! We're buying three copies so there will no bloodshed in the house.
They played several songs from the movie,
as well as songs from their Swell Season CD, and then some standard Frames' stuff, including my favorite, Star Star. (Blogged about it a few months ago.) Also, a cover of Justin Timberlake's Cry me a River. (No, really.)
We went to Katz's Deli after the concert, a favorite UT hangout, which is open 24 hours a day. We cleaned the kitchen out of egg salad on challah with four at the table ordering it. Jay, Gail, and Andy were along for most of the weekend, and Jay was adventurous with the cheese stuffed potato, but there was ewwwwy cole slaw left at every spot at the table, I believe.
Kristen was a little dismayed when we had to traipse through the attached bar to the shared ladies' room and kept her eyes averted from the waitresses dressed as cats. While I was holding Kristen's stall door shut to protect her from any accidental cat invasions, a dazed male customer ventured in. He just kind of looked at me puzzled for a moment.
"Wrong room," I said.
He responded, "Wowwwwwww," turned, and left to go across the hall, I presume.
Friday, we did a tour of Toy Joy, where I spent much too much on things simply for the nostalgia they conjured, but truly, they are CHRISTMAS PRESENTS. ;-) ;-) (To Julie, Love, Santa). Then, it was Buffalo Exchange, an UPscale thrift store with prices higher than I pay at Kohl's and a few other thrift and record stores. For lunch, we stopped for some amazing burgers and other fried delicacies at Dirty Martin's Place. The girls were fascinated by the turbo hand dryer in the restroom.
Then, it was on to Sixth Street and the tourist shops, including an oh-so-fun, yet incredibly expensive hatshop, Vertigo, a Hat for all Seasons:
(Is that a small animal on Kristen's head?)
Yeah, baby
(This girl really does belong in the country.)
... and Waterloo Records, before we finally collapsed at Shady Grove for tasty (without an "E") meat and potatoes and AMAZING peanut butter ice cream pie. I sulked and stared at Ryan and Kristen and Gail and Andy eating theirs while Emilie and I suffered through a plate with three pancake-sized chocolate chip cookies covered with five scoops of ice cream.
We kissed our friends goodbye in the parking lot, and sent them on their way with Emilie so she could make it to regional band competition playing her very large bassoon Saturday. (And she made the band this year. Woo hoo!)
Saturday, we wandered all the way down to Gruene (about 30 miles), and while I leisurely sampled my way through the Texas salsas and dips in all the gift and antique shops, Todd and the kids did whirlwind tours then sat in front on chairs like this:
And this:
And this:
Gruene is a tiny hamlet that has been "gently resisting change since 1872," and it shows. This little oasis makes you feel you've been magically transported to another world. It's peaceful and relaxing, and the weather was a little misty and 75 degrees. What more could you ask for?
Dinner at the Gristmill was beef tenderloin sandwiches and strawberry shortcake a mile or so tall. I drove everyone crazy with my usual photo stops every three inches. Have you ever seen a cluster ofchina berries oops, I mean firethorn (or pyracantha) berries this big?
And the effect of Christmas lights on a misty day is enough to drag even the most reluctant person into the holiday spirit.
We didn't stay for a concert in Gruene this time. Last time we were there, we saw Nickel Creek at Gruene Hall, Texas' oldest dance hall. Nope, this time, we were back in Austin--back at Stubb's--for Nickel Creek's "farewell (for now) tour." Nobody covers Toxic or the Jackson Five (Oh, Baby, give me one more chance) like Nickel Creek. Ryan was oh, so pumped because he got an over-21 wristband on his looks alone. It was a waste of a wristband, but still, good for his ego.
After the concert, we drove all the way home. We did a 2 a.m. potty break at Czech Stop in West, Texas (the town, not the region), which is open 24 hours a day (hey, just like Katz's!) and gave ourselves middle-of-the-night heartburn attacks with kolaches, sausage and cheese rolls, and the most amazing chocolate cupcakes with peanut butter frosting and a Hershey's kiss on top. Enough sugar to fuel the last 80 miles without sleeping and cause us to laugh hysterically at nothing in particular as we wound up on an FM road we'd never taken before.
Ryan came up with an idea for confusing his future children. He says whenever they ask, "Daddy, how much farther?" he'll answer, "I don't know. We're lost." For some reason, we found that funnier than anything we've ever heard.
That was a fun weekend.
New CDs: $60, and that's like SIX CDs!!! (including the live recording of the Old 97s concert we saw there in 2005)
Togetherness: Priceless. Except when we were deciding what to do and where to go every five minutes. ;-) I love my family.
First, it was Stubb's BBQ for an amazing concert Thursday night. We saw Glenn Hansard (of The Frames) and Marketa Irglova, who perform together as Swell Season, together with several other Frames band members. Glenn and Marketa are the pair who star in Once, the movie I raved over several times a few months ago. It's coming on DVD December 18. Get it! We're buying three copies so there will no bloodshed in the house.
They played several songs from the movie,
as well as songs from their Swell Season CD, and then some standard Frames' stuff, including my favorite, Star Star. (Blogged about it a few months ago.) Also, a cover of Justin Timberlake's Cry me a River. (No, really.)
We went to Katz's Deli after the concert, a favorite UT hangout, which is open 24 hours a day. We cleaned the kitchen out of egg salad on challah with four at the table ordering it. Jay, Gail, and Andy were along for most of the weekend, and Jay was adventurous with the cheese stuffed potato, but there was ewwwwy cole slaw left at every spot at the table, I believe.
Kristen was a little dismayed when we had to traipse through the attached bar to the shared ladies' room and kept her eyes averted from the waitresses dressed as cats. While I was holding Kristen's stall door shut to protect her from any accidental cat invasions, a dazed male customer ventured in. He just kind of looked at me puzzled for a moment.
"Wrong room," I said.
He responded, "Wowwwwwww," turned, and left to go across the hall, I presume.
Friday, we did a tour of Toy Joy, where I spent much too much on things simply for the nostalgia they conjured, but truly, they are CHRISTMAS PRESENTS. ;-) ;-) (To Julie, Love, Santa). Then, it was Buffalo Exchange, an UPscale thrift store with prices higher than I pay at Kohl's and a few other thrift and record stores. For lunch, we stopped for some amazing burgers and other fried delicacies at Dirty Martin's Place. The girls were fascinated by the turbo hand dryer in the restroom.
Then, it was on to Sixth Street and the tourist shops, including an oh-so-fun, yet incredibly expensive hatshop, Vertigo, a Hat for all Seasons:
(Is that a small animal on Kristen's head?)
Yeah, baby
(This girl really does belong in the country.)
... and Waterloo Records, before we finally collapsed at Shady Grove for tasty (without an "E") meat and potatoes and AMAZING peanut butter ice cream pie. I sulked and stared at Ryan and Kristen and Gail and Andy eating theirs while Emilie and I suffered through a plate with three pancake-sized chocolate chip cookies covered with five scoops of ice cream.
We kissed our friends goodbye in the parking lot, and sent them on their way with Emilie so she could make it to regional band competition playing her very large bassoon Saturday. (And she made the band this year. Woo hoo!)
Saturday, we wandered all the way down to Gruene (about 30 miles), and while I leisurely sampled my way through the Texas salsas and dips in all the gift and antique shops, Todd and the kids did whirlwind tours then sat in front on chairs like this:
And this:
And this:
Gruene is a tiny hamlet that has been "gently resisting change since 1872," and it shows. This little oasis makes you feel you've been magically transported to another world. It's peaceful and relaxing, and the weather was a little misty and 75 degrees. What more could you ask for?
Dinner at the Gristmill was beef tenderloin sandwiches and strawberry shortcake a mile or so tall. I drove everyone crazy with my usual photo stops every three inches. Have you ever seen a cluster of
And the effect of Christmas lights on a misty day is enough to drag even the most reluctant person into the holiday spirit.
We didn't stay for a concert in Gruene this time. Last time we were there, we saw Nickel Creek at Gruene Hall, Texas' oldest dance hall. Nope, this time, we were back in Austin--back at Stubb's--for Nickel Creek's "farewell (for now) tour." Nobody covers Toxic or the Jackson Five (Oh, Baby, give me one more chance) like Nickel Creek. Ryan was oh, so pumped because he got an over-21 wristband on his looks alone. It was a waste of a wristband, but still, good for his ego.
After the concert, we drove all the way home. We did a 2 a.m. potty break at Czech Stop in West, Texas (the town, not the region), which is open 24 hours a day (hey, just like Katz's!) and gave ourselves middle-of-the-night heartburn attacks with kolaches, sausage and cheese rolls, and the most amazing chocolate cupcakes with peanut butter frosting and a Hershey's kiss on top. Enough sugar to fuel the last 80 miles without sleeping and cause us to laugh hysterically at nothing in particular as we wound up on an FM road we'd never taken before.
Ryan came up with an idea for confusing his future children. He says whenever they ask, "Daddy, how much farther?" he'll answer, "I don't know. We're lost." For some reason, we found that funnier than anything we've ever heard.
That was a fun weekend.
New CDs: $60, and that's like SIX CDs!!! (including the live recording of the Old 97s concert we saw there in 2005)
Togetherness: Priceless. Except when we were deciding what to do and where to go every five minutes. ;-) I love my family.
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
Dang, it feels good to be a ...
Check out Paul's blog on My Part of Colorado from November 14. Makes you feel so proud to be a Texan and/or Christian, if you are one, huh?
And I have no idea why that other stupid song started running through my head (see my blog title). If you can name that tune, keep it to yourself. LOL
"I like your Christ, but I do not like your Christians. Your Christians are so unlike your Christ."
-Mahatma Gandhi
And I have no idea why that other stupid song started running through my head (see my blog title). If you can name that tune, keep it to yourself. LOL
"I like your Christ, but I do not like your Christians. Your Christians are so unlike your Christ."
-Mahatma Gandhi
Somebody loved
I ran across this song today on Julie Person's blog, and it jumped out and grabbed me. I had to look up the lyrics. I really like this group, but I'm not sure I've heard this song.
Somebody Loved/The Weepies
It is a blessing to be married to your best friend.
(I'm adding the song to my project playlist player at the bottom of the page if you want to listen.)
Somebody Loved/The Weepies
Rain turns the sand into mud
Wind turns the trees into bone
Stars turning high up above
You turn me into somebody loved
Nights when the heat had gone out
We danced together alone
Cold turned our breath into clouds
We never said what we were dreaming of
But you turned me into somebody loved
Someday when we're old and worn
Like two softened shoes
I will wonder on how I was born
The night I first ran away from you
Now my feet turn the corner back home
Sun turns the evening to rose
Stars turning high up above
You turn me into somebody loved
I'm going to make Todd blush here when he randomly picks a day to read my recent blog entries, as he does periodically. Because, yep, he turned me into somebody loved. Even when I get all weird-headed and doubtful, feeling like I am unlovable and unworthy, because my brain was trained to be that way for so long in my past, he just stays right there and waits, and I remember.Wind turns the trees into bone
Stars turning high up above
You turn me into somebody loved
Nights when the heat had gone out
We danced together alone
Cold turned our breath into clouds
We never said what we were dreaming of
But you turned me into somebody loved
Someday when we're old and worn
Like two softened shoes
I will wonder on how I was born
The night I first ran away from you
Now my feet turn the corner back home
Sun turns the evening to rose
Stars turning high up above
You turn me into somebody loved
It is a blessing to be married to your best friend.
(I'm adding the song to my project playlist player at the bottom of the page if you want to listen.)
Thursday, November 08, 2007
Small world, big difference
Bungi has a meme on her blog today that sheds some interesting light on cultural differences. I commented that I had most of the material items her living space is missing. Is missing really the right word? Probably not. Maybe "free of" is a better word...she doesn't have to clean a bathtub or oven! But durnit, where's my househelper? ;-)
Bungi seems like she has higher financial status than I would guess a lot of her fellow citizens in India have, and yet, these things we take for granted in even the majority of the poorest homes in the U.S. are "extras" there. (Oven, bathtub, porch, for example.) On the other hand, here, mostly the wealthy are the ones with house help, although I think it's more common when both parents in a household have to work. (To support their multiple bathtub habit. Heh.)
And, wow, I am put to shame when she says her floors are swept five days a week. But, Bungi, I want to know--is it you or your helper doing all that sweeping!?
My favorite is the "Comet or Soft Scrub?" question. Or rather, her answer. "Uh?" Heh!
Bungi seems like she has higher financial status than I would guess a lot of her fellow citizens in India have, and yet, these things we take for granted in even the majority of the poorest homes in the U.S. are "extras" there. (Oven, bathtub, porch, for example.) On the other hand, here, mostly the wealthy are the ones with house help, although I think it's more common when both parents in a household have to work. (To support their multiple bathtub habit. Heh.)
And, wow, I am put to shame when she says her floors are swept five days a week. But, Bungi, I want to know--is it you or your helper doing all that sweeping!?
My favorite is the "Comet or Soft Scrub?" question. Or rather, her answer. "Uh?" Heh!
Tuesday, November 06, 2007
Captain Who? What?
Yeah, I'm gonna have to create some self-imposed filters that don't allow me to blog after 1 a.m. It gives you, the reader, a far too realistic glimpse inside my actual brain.
It's a little frightening looking back.
It's a little frightening looking back.
Monday, November 05, 2007
These are a few of my favorite things
Raindrops on roses, and whiskers on kittens,
Movies and music and Ryan with mittens ... (I mean mocassins ... lalala )
Cheeseburger tacos with onnnion strings...
1) Todd and I saw Martian Child Saturday night. I really loved it. Me and only 22% of the movie reviewer population on rottentomatoes.com. Those people. What is so wrong with a movie full of schmaltz (read: people learning to love each other)? Who freakin' cares? If it makes you happy, it must be bad, they say.
John and Joan Cusack are full 'o fun, and this was quite a serious movie, but still fun. It had some (not-so-sly) political messages that kind of cracked me up. We've come a long way since the Dixie Chicks scandal of not so many years ago. I wonder if Hollywood could have gotten away then with panning into sharp focus--not once, but twice--a picture of George W behind a school principal explaining to David (John Cusack) "We're just not equipped to handle a child as different as Dennis here in our school." Whatever your politics, it was quite an overt message, I thought. Todd gives me a hard time and says I read too much into movies or music sometimes, but I dunno ... I kind of enjoy looking for the subtle and not-so-subtle messages sent through media.
2) Annual trek to see my fav-o-rite musician, singer/songwriter David Wilcox tonight. This year, I might add, I am proud to say I recommended to Dave's manager that he try to book him at the Bend Studio, and he did. I'm positively famous now, obviously. He was supposed to play their Ft. Worth venue, but ended up doing two Dallas shows instead at a place called Rock House Films. It was a smaller setting than we've seen him in the last few years, which was cool. He sang a hysterical new song I'm absolutely sure will lead to a new nickname spoken under the breath around the house (not in front of the children, of course) at certain times when people are acting like ... well, like Captain Wanker. :-O
3) Ryan joined us for a pre-birthday celebration at the concert. We were devastated to find that Tin Star, which was only a few short blocks from Rock House, and where we were going to enjoy the best ever cheesburger tacos, was gone. It's been replaced by a restaurant called Mooyah, which sounds suspiciously like Hooyah!, one of our favorite Denton restaurants, only it serves burgers instead of burritos. What is the world coming to when Tin Star goes away from Uptown Dallas? I almost cried. Instead, we had some pretty good pizza from I Fratelli, and luckily, there are four other Tin Star locations in the Metroplex.
Ryan is making his way toward the last stretch of his first semester in college. He mentioned it's interesting that he's the only one of his friends with a job, and also the only one who always owes his friends money. What's up with that?
Anyway, we enjoyed his hole-y mocassined company to celebrate another year of Ryan, and another year of David Wilcox. He sat in awe and got real excited when Dave sang "Leave it like it is," one of his favorites. I told him I'd start calling him Kitchen Blue if he'd like, because he is definitely "a unique." (Ten bucks for the reader who can identify the movie that line comes from.)
Now when the paint jar tipped
Off of the table
You watched as it started to fall
Glass popped, shattered and splattered
And paint spray hit the wall
Bright, blue glossy enamel
Across the kitchen floor
You said, "Good God, look at that pattern
I've never seen that before"
Leave it like it is
Never mind the turpentine
Leave it like it is
Its fine
Now when the paint dried
You gave it a title
You called it "Kitchen Blue"
A white frame painted around it
And gallery lighting, too
Rich folks come over to dinner
They all want one of their own
They say "How much? Who's the artist"
And, "My what a beautiful home"
Now most folks suffer in sorrow
Thinking they're just no good
They don't match the magazine model
As close as they think they should
They live just like the "paint by numbers"
The teacher would be impressed
A life-time of follow the lines
So it's just like all of the rest
Leave it like it is
Never mind the turpentine
Leave it like it is
Its fine
Wow, this is getting way too long, and I think it's because even though the clock says it's 12:41, a few days ago, it would have been 1:41. I think I'd best be going now.
Movies and music and Ryan with mittens ... (I mean mocassins ... lalala )
Cheeseburger tacos with onnnion strings...
1) Todd and I saw Martian Child Saturday night. I really loved it. Me and only 22% of the movie reviewer population on rottentomatoes.com. Those people. What is so wrong with a movie full of schmaltz (read: people learning to love each other)? Who freakin' cares? If it makes you happy, it must be bad, they say.
John and Joan Cusack are full 'o fun, and this was quite a serious movie, but still fun. It had some (not-so-sly) political messages that kind of cracked me up. We've come a long way since the Dixie Chicks scandal of not so many years ago. I wonder if Hollywood could have gotten away then with panning into sharp focus--not once, but twice--a picture of George W behind a school principal explaining to David (John Cusack) "We're just not equipped to handle a child as different as Dennis here in our school." Whatever your politics, it was quite an overt message, I thought. Todd gives me a hard time and says I read too much into movies or music sometimes, but I dunno ... I kind of enjoy looking for the subtle and not-so-subtle messages sent through media.
2) Annual trek to see my fav-o-rite musician, singer/songwriter David Wilcox tonight. This year, I might add, I am proud to say I recommended to Dave's manager that he try to book him at the Bend Studio, and he did. I'm positively famous now, obviously. He was supposed to play their Ft. Worth venue, but ended up doing two Dallas shows instead at a place called Rock House Films. It was a smaller setting than we've seen him in the last few years, which was cool. He sang a hysterical new song I'm absolutely sure will lead to a new nickname spoken under the breath around the house (not in front of the children, of course) at certain times when people are acting like ... well, like Captain Wanker. :-O
3) Ryan joined us for a pre-birthday celebration at the concert. We were devastated to find that Tin Star, which was only a few short blocks from Rock House, and where we were going to enjoy the best ever cheesburger tacos, was gone. It's been replaced by a restaurant called Mooyah, which sounds suspiciously like Hooyah!, one of our favorite Denton restaurants, only it serves burgers instead of burritos. What is the world coming to when Tin Star goes away from Uptown Dallas? I almost cried. Instead, we had some pretty good pizza from I Fratelli, and luckily, there are four other Tin Star locations in the Metroplex.
Ryan is making his way toward the last stretch of his first semester in college. He mentioned it's interesting that he's the only one of his friends with a job, and also the only one who always owes his friends money. What's up with that?
Anyway, we enjoyed his hole-y mocassined company to celebrate another year of Ryan, and another year of David Wilcox. He sat in awe and got real excited when Dave sang "Leave it like it is," one of his favorites. I told him I'd start calling him Kitchen Blue if he'd like, because he is definitely "a unique." (Ten bucks for the reader who can identify the movie that line comes from.)
Now when the paint jar tipped
Off of the table
You watched as it started to fall
Glass popped, shattered and splattered
And paint spray hit the wall
Bright, blue glossy enamel
Across the kitchen floor
You said, "Good God, look at that pattern
I've never seen that before"
Leave it like it is
Never mind the turpentine
Leave it like it is
Its fine
Now when the paint dried
You gave it a title
You called it "Kitchen Blue"
A white frame painted around it
And gallery lighting, too
Rich folks come over to dinner
They all want one of their own
They say "How much? Who's the artist"
And, "My what a beautiful home"
Now most folks suffer in sorrow
Thinking they're just no good
They don't match the magazine model
As close as they think they should
They live just like the "paint by numbers"
The teacher would be impressed
A life-time of follow the lines
So it's just like all of the rest
Leave it like it is
Never mind the turpentine
Leave it like it is
Its fine
Wow, this is getting way too long, and I think it's because even though the clock says it's 12:41, a few days ago, it would have been 1:41. I think I'd best be going now.
Friday, November 02, 2007
You think *I* was grouchy?
Lest anyone think I am some kind of Trick-or-Treat Scrooge, please don't think I had a problem with the dressed-up infants. One of my own little people made an especially cute Jerry to her older brother's Tom when she was less than three months old. He himself was a purple grape a week before his first birthday. Then, there was Toto (a/k/a my youngest) the year the kids all dressed up as Wizard of Oz characters. They were all so cute you wanted to gobble them up.
I only wrinkled my forehead at the mothers asking for candy on their infants' behalf. Bring those babies along, please, just leave the plastic pumpkin at home. Do like I do--go sneak candy out of your other children's loot bags when they're at school. ;-) Of course, there is also that half-price candy clearance they hold every year the next day ...
Anyway, I laughed right out loud when I read Elizabeth Berg's blog from November 1. Apparently, I wasn't the only cranky lady that night, but man, she one-upped me! That woman cracks me up every time.
I only wrinkled my forehead at the mothers asking for candy on their infants' behalf. Bring those babies along, please, just leave the plastic pumpkin at home. Do like I do--go sneak candy out of your other children's loot bags when they're at school. ;-) Of course, there is also that half-price candy clearance they hold every year the next day ...
Anyway, I laughed right out loud when I read Elizabeth Berg's blog from November 1. Apparently, I wasn't the only cranky lady that night, but man, she one-upped me! That woman cracks me up every time.
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Trick, treat, or ??
Another year of tabulating which neighbors have taught their children manners has passed. After it was said and done, Todd and I had a few good ideas for next year:For the moms who arrive holding out treat bags or plastic pumpkins on behalf of their dressed-up infants in strollers, we are buying jars of baby food. (I seriously almost asked a mom if she was gonna let her baby eat those Skittles.)
For the teenagers who don't bother to dress up, but still hold out pillowcases, we are buying school supplies.
Everyone else will still get candy.
We drove back up to the house after retrieving Emilie from a youth event, and some people were standing on our darkened porch ringing and knocking. We were like, Dudes, can't you see the lights are out, we're out of candy and we're not home?! Then we realized it was our friends and they just wanted to say hello and show off costumes. Hehe.
Sunday, October 28, 2007
Just fodder
Wow, no soapboxes, no salad tales, nothing exciting here for over a week. If you consider that other stuff exciting, that is.
(OH WAIT! THE CHICKEN IS BACK IN THE EXTRA BOX AND I FORGOT IT'S IN ITS OWN BAG TOO THAT'S 13 PIECES OF TRASH!)
Sorry, just had to throw that at you.
Nope, just been dealing with normal stuff. Life. Home improvement. Parenting woes. Certainly nothing huge, just the usual guilt over whether I'm "doing it right." Yeah. That alone can take all the energy right outta ya. You wouldn't think a stray dog could cause so much guilt, not would you?
Enough about me. What do YOU think about my parenting skills? Hehehe.
Saw a fun movie this weekend. Dan in Real Life. I've been waiting and waiting for this one. The previews just got me because yes, I am a sucker for a good, sappy, emotional family drama. The scene in the preview where Dan hugs his little girl and sighs? Yep, I got teary in the movie, too. It also had some good laugh lines. Todd and I have been telling each other "Put it on my tab" for weeks now.
I wouldn't give this movie five out of five stars, because it did have its flaws (and also one of those weird things where a scene in the preview is NOT in the actual movie. How does that happen? Don't those people in Hollywood realize we'll NOTICE?), but I certainly came away with that feel-good sense of peace a movie like this ought to bring you. There's not enough of that in the world. A little "ripped from the pages of Pottery Barn" (thanks, Chris Kelly) is ok now and then, don't you think?
It's going to be another crazy month coming up, but in a good way. (See my blog over at An audience of me if you're curious) Between writing, great concerts, and the start of what's sure to be a hectic (what other kind is there any more?), yet joyous holiday season , I am looking forward to November.
What's your November starting to look like?
(OH WAIT! THE CHICKEN IS BACK IN THE EXTRA BOX AND I FORGOT IT'S IN ITS OWN BAG TOO THAT'S 13 PIECES OF TRASH!)
Sorry, just had to throw that at you.
Nope, just been dealing with normal stuff. Life. Home improvement. Parenting woes. Certainly nothing huge, just the usual guilt over whether I'm "doing it right." Yeah. That alone can take all the energy right outta ya. You wouldn't think a stray dog could cause so much guilt, not would you?
Enough about me. What do YOU think about my parenting skills? Hehehe.
Saw a fun movie this weekend. Dan in Real Life. I've been waiting and waiting for this one. The previews just got me because yes, I am a sucker for a good, sappy, emotional family drama. The scene in the preview where Dan hugs his little girl and sighs? Yep, I got teary in the movie, too. It also had some good laugh lines. Todd and I have been telling each other "Put it on my tab" for weeks now.
I wouldn't give this movie five out of five stars, because it did have its flaws (and also one of those weird things where a scene in the preview is NOT in the actual movie. How does that happen? Don't those people in Hollywood realize we'll NOTICE?), but I certainly came away with that feel-good sense of peace a movie like this ought to bring you. There's not enough of that in the world. A little "ripped from the pages of Pottery Barn" (thanks, Chris Kelly) is ok now and then, don't you think?
It's going to be another crazy month coming up, but in a good way. (See my blog over at An audience of me if you're curious) Between writing, great concerts, and the start of what's sure to be a hectic (what other kind is there any more?), yet joyous holiday season , I am looking forward to November.
What's your November starting to look like?
Thursday, October 18, 2007
She thinks my shipping container's sexy
First, let me get this out of the way. Salad news! Mom brought the JITB salads today, and the chicken is back in the main container. I wonder if they've been reading my blog . . . . Nawwww.
They replaced the cardboard chicken container with a much smaller sticker on the plastic salad container that says, "Want your chicken on the side? Just ask!" So, I guess I was not the only consumer puzzled by the eco-guzzling, unfast fast food.
Next. Marylaine Block's Neat New Stuff newsletter (a must for librarians, but fun for us normal people, too) had a c-razy link today. Check this out. Another"Who knew?" moment. Is this for real?
I'm not sure how I feel about the long-term effects of making mass housing out of shipping containers. Yes, shipping containers. Now I know you're going to go back to that link after all. It reminds me of when people make homes out of old school buses. A few go a long way in terms of novelty and originality. A whole village of people living in school buses? Not so cute.
Now, I understand cute is not the point, but seriously, this is taking Habitat for Humanity to an entirely different level. Sounds like an insta-ghetto to me. "Hey, Johnny! Wanna come over to my shipping container to play?" And dude, have you seen what happens to those things during a tornado?
Yes, we need new options for the homeless, or for people who need temporary, inexpensive housing, and I am certainly not going to say it should never happen if someone needs a home and this is the only way.
But seriously? Someone please make me feel better about this.
They replaced the cardboard chicken container with a much smaller sticker on the plastic salad container that says, "Want your chicken on the side? Just ask!" So, I guess I was not the only consumer puzzled by the eco-guzzling, unfast fast food.
Next. Marylaine Block's Neat New Stuff newsletter (a must for librarians, but fun for us normal people, too) had a c-razy link today. Check this out. Another
I'm not sure how I feel about the long-term effects of making mass housing out of shipping containers. Yes, shipping containers. Now I know you're going to go back to that link after all. It reminds me of when people make homes out of old school buses. A few go a long way in terms of novelty and originality. A whole village of people living in school buses? Not so cute.
Now, I understand cute is not the point, but seriously, this is taking Habitat for Humanity to an entirely different level. Sounds like an insta-ghetto to me. "Hey, Johnny! Wanna come over to my shipping container to play?" And dude, have you seen what happens to those things during a tornado?
Yes, we need new options for the homeless, or for people who need temporary, inexpensive housing, and I am certainly not going to say it should never happen if someone needs a home and this is the only way.
But seriously? Someone please make me feel better about this.
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
Would you like a napkin with that?
Remember me climbing up a soapbox about the millions of disposables that come along with Jack-in-the-Box-salads a few weeks ago, and how I bragged on McDonald's a little for their 8 or 9 pieces of paper or plastic as opposed to JITB's 11?
Well, here's bit of irony for you. Why is it you get all that extra paper and plastic with salads, but after you drive away from the window with a simple burger and fries at McDonalds, you realize you would have had to ask to get a napkin and receipt?
Huh?
Well, here's bit of irony for you. Why is it you get all that extra paper and plastic with salads, but after you drive away from the window with a simple burger and fries at McDonalds, you realize you would have had to ask to get a napkin and receipt?
Huh?
Monday, October 15, 2007
While I was waiting
I'm waiting for files to upload to a distant server for the project I've been doing for the last six weeks . . . trying to stay awake. (I am trying to stay awake. That is not the project, silly.)
When the files are there, I will be mostly finished, barring all natural or manmade catastrophes. For this, I am extremely grateful. I've clocked about 110 hours in the last 10 days, and I am exhausted, mentally and physically.
But, I'm proud of the effort I've made, and the resulting product for my customer.
If I only had a brain left.
Thanks to my readers for continuing to leave little comments here and there - sweet, snide, or otherwise - even though I've sadly neglected this thing for most of the last month. I promise more exciting things are in the works. I've gotten on and off the soapbox several times in the last few days! I only hope I can remember what irritated me, because I know you look forward to my rants.
I'll leave you with this funny story about my cute little nephew, the son of a stand-up comic. When my brother went for his show the other night, he took my five-year-old nephew with him. It was an early, family-friendly show. The emcee asked if the kid wanted to perform first, and of course, he obliged. You can tell he's been around my brother practicing his comedy for a while now. He's got the shtick down. His routine:
"You know what my favorite joke is, guys?!"
(pause for audience to yell back)
"Disneyland FREAKS ME OUT!"
~~~
He's got the right stuff. I only wish I could say I was as successful. The files are stuck in upload land. I think I'll take a nap here on the couch.
When the files are there, I will be mostly finished, barring all natural or manmade catastrophes. For this, I am extremely grateful. I've clocked about 110 hours in the last 10 days, and I am exhausted, mentally and physically.
But, I'm proud of the effort I've made, and the resulting product for my customer.
If I only had a brain left.
Thanks to my readers for continuing to leave little comments here and there - sweet, snide, or otherwise - even though I've sadly neglected this thing for most of the last month. I promise more exciting things are in the works. I've gotten on and off the soapbox several times in the last few days! I only hope I can remember what irritated me, because I know you look forward to my rants.
I'll leave you with this funny story about my cute little nephew, the son of a stand-up comic. When my brother went for his show the other night, he took my five-year-old nephew with him. It was an early, family-friendly show. The emcee asked if the kid wanted to perform first, and of course, he obliged. You can tell he's been around my brother practicing his comedy for a while now. He's got the shtick down. His routine:
"You know what my favorite joke is, guys?!"
(pause for audience to yell back)
"Disneyland FREAKS ME OUT!"
~~~
He's got the right stuff. I only wish I could say I was as successful. The files are stuck in upload land. I think I'll take a nap here on the couch.
Saturday, September 29, 2007
Jump with your eyes open
Feast of Love? I liked it. (Chris Kelly, eat my socks ... as usual.)And, of course, it didn't hurt that they used a Glenn Hansard/Marketa Irglova song in the soundtrack.
And, did I mention that we are going to see those lovely folks in Austin in November? Well, we are. Only 10 days after we get to see the one and only David Wilcox in Ft. Worth. November is Marvelous Music Month for Julie.
And, also, if you are the least bit sensitive to nudity, this is not the movie for you. We, obviously, will not be taking Kristen to see this one for, say, 10 years.
Thursday, September 27, 2007
Gosh, a food and a soapbox 2-fer
I'm going out on a limb tonight and visiting both of my recent ruts. Food and a soapbox, for your reading entertainment. And maybe something to think about.
Does anyone remember my post about my o/c tendencies and Salad Day from many moons ago? Well. We have carried on that tradition, my mother and I. Mom still picks up Southwest Chicken salads most Tuesdays for our lunches. We've expanded a bit. Some weeks, like this one, she gets it on other days. I know, it just doesn't seem right, but it does happen. Like today.
We've also expanded our menu a bit, and sometimes she gets the salads from McDonald's instead of Jack in the Box. They are enough different that it mixes things up a little.
So, today it was Jack in the Box. And I was thinking, as I finished off my salad and began to load up all the trash items and throw them out, of how they've changed in the last several months and how they've kind of let me down, to tell the truth. (It's okay, you can cry.)
Only a few months ago, that salad came in a plastic container with everything edible inside it except the dressing and some chip-type things. Some extra packaging there, but you can maybe understand how you might want to keep those things separate and fresh until you eat them. A fork and napkin came wrapped in a plastic sleeve, too. Then there's the plastic bag it all gets dropped in before it's handed to the customer. A lot of packaging and trash. Already. Container (2 pieces), fork, napkin, wrapper, plastic squishy dressing and chip holders, bag. Yep, that's 9 items. (And I'm gonna try to do the math right this time, Heather, but I might mess up. Heh.)
Now, if you know me well, you know I'm kind of Johnny-come-lately to all this green stuff, so please don't think I'm trying to act like someone I'm not. But yeah, I'm trying. Todd's got me trained on the recycling thing pretty well now. I panicked just a little this morning when I realized it was recycle day and my bag of plastic bottles hadn't gone out the door. But, phew, I got them out there before the truck came. (And yeah, I do have a lot of plastic bottles. Texas water and all, you know.)
But now Jack in the Box is having to keep up with the Joneses (a/k/a McDonald's SW Chicken Salad), and somehow they've decided to do that, they need to have the grilled chicken breast freshly cooked and in one piece instead of chopped up and thrown on top of the salad, and that it needs to be in its own separate container. Which, of course, necessitates tossing a plastic knife in the mix as well.
So, we've moved from 9 disposable items to 11. For one little (well, not that little) salad. It is tasty, for sure, but I have a few problems with that.
First, if you're buying a salad in a drive-through, chances are, you want to eat fast, and you don't really want to have to cut up your own chicken. Hence, the title "Fast Food." Call me lazy, but dudes.
Second, McDonald's has managed to convey their equally tasty, yet slightly different, SW Chicken Salad in a two-piece plastic container, with the wrapped napkin, knife, and fork, and the dressing in its plastic squishy thing, bag, and that's it. Sliced chicken and chips are thrown on top of salad in the container (still fresh and warm). So, they've managed to keep it at a still high, but certainly lower, 8 disposable items.
Now, I'm probably not going to stop eating these salads, nor is my mom going to stop buying them (crossing my fingers, anyway), but just maybe there's a better way for them to do this.
In a recent post, Paul from Colorado (who is also the super green husband of a friend I've known since high school in Denver, by the way) suggested taking your own plastic cups to fast food restaurants. I'm probably not going to take my own bowl for the salad (I think they'd look askance and throw me out on my ear right after they called the health department to report an unruly consumer.)
But, for my part, perhaps I can ask Mom to have them leave the plasticware out, and just maybe I will write Jack in the Box a nice, friendly email asking them why they didn't leave the chicken alone.
Does anyone remember my post about my o/c tendencies and Salad Day from many moons ago? Well. We have carried on that tradition, my mother and I. Mom still picks up Southwest Chicken salads most Tuesdays for our lunches. We've expanded a bit. Some weeks, like this one, she gets it on other days. I know, it just doesn't seem right, but it does happen. Like today.
We've also expanded our menu a bit, and sometimes she gets the salads from McDonald's instead of Jack in the Box. They are enough different that it mixes things up a little.
So, today it was Jack in the Box. And I was thinking, as I finished off my salad and began to load up all the trash items and throw them out, of how they've changed in the last several months and how they've kind of let me down, to tell the truth. (It's okay, you can cry.)
Only a few months ago, that salad came in a plastic container with everything edible inside it except the dressing and some chip-type things. Some extra packaging there, but you can maybe understand how you might want to keep those things separate and fresh until you eat them. A fork and napkin came wrapped in a plastic sleeve, too. Then there's the plastic bag it all gets dropped in before it's handed to the customer. A lot of packaging and trash. Already. Container (2 pieces), fork, napkin, wrapper, plastic squishy dressing and chip holders, bag. Yep, that's 9 items. (And I'm gonna try to do the math right this time, Heather, but I might mess up. Heh.)
Now, if you know me well, you know I'm kind of Johnny-come-lately to all this green stuff, so please don't think I'm trying to act like someone I'm not. But yeah, I'm trying. Todd's got me trained on the recycling thing pretty well now. I panicked just a little this morning when I realized it was recycle day and my bag of plastic bottles hadn't gone out the door. But, phew, I got them out there before the truck came. (And yeah, I do have a lot of plastic bottles. Texas water and all, you know.)
But now Jack in the Box is having to keep up with the Joneses (a/k/a McDonald's SW Chicken Salad), and somehow they've decided to do that, they need to have the grilled chicken breast freshly cooked and in one piece instead of chopped up and thrown on top of the salad, and that it needs to be in its own separate container. Which, of course, necessitates tossing a plastic knife in the mix as well.
So, we've moved from 9 disposable items to 11. For one little (well, not that little) salad. It is tasty, for sure, but I have a few problems with that.
First, if you're buying a salad in a drive-through, chances are, you want to eat fast, and you don't really want to have to cut up your own chicken. Hence, the title "Fast Food." Call me lazy, but dudes.
Second, McDonald's has managed to convey their equally tasty, yet slightly different, SW Chicken Salad in a two-piece plastic container, with the wrapped napkin, knife, and fork, and the dressing in its plastic squishy thing, bag, and that's it. Sliced chicken and chips are thrown on top of salad in the container (still fresh and warm). So, they've managed to keep it at a still high, but certainly lower, 8 disposable items.
Now, I'm probably not going to stop eating these salads, nor is my mom going to stop buying them (crossing my fingers, anyway), but just maybe there's a better way for them to do this.
In a recent post, Paul from Colorado (who is also the super green husband of a friend I've known since high school in Denver, by the way) suggested taking your own plastic cups to fast food restaurants. I'm probably not going to take my own bowl for the salad (I think they'd look askance and throw me out on my ear right after they called the health department to report an unruly consumer.)
But, for my part, perhaps I can ask Mom to have them leave the plasticware out, and just maybe I will write Jack in the Box a nice, friendly email asking them why they didn't leave the chicken alone.
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
Four things about food
Taking a break from home improvement for a few days, so I thought I'd talk about another favorite topic.1) I discovered this week that Albertson's brand semi-sweet chocolate chips taste almost exactly like Dove Dark Chocolate. Oh, my. I snack on a few chocolate chips to keep the junk-food monster at bay sometimes, and I might have to make this my "brand" of choice.
s and I've always thought he was growing zuchinni, and that the ones that ended up over our fence had simply gone to seed. Turns out they are bitter melon. Who knew? He gave me one and showed me how to prepare it. Said many Asian and Indian people eat it or use it for tea, and have for centuries, and it controls blood sugar, which is why so few people of that ethnicity are diabetic. He told me to be sure NOT to let my mom eat any, because she is diabetic, and somehow a person who is taking medicine for diabetes can get sick from it. Maybe it lowers the blood sugar too much? Anyway, I took it in the house and sliced it up, added salt and lemon juice, as Sam told me, and ate a few bites. At this point, I can tell you it is definitely an acquired taste.
3) Speaking of trying different things, this summer while I was visiting my brother in California, I tried Indian food for the first time ever. I have to say I wasn't crazy about what I had, but I probably need to try something else. I had chicken tikka masala, and it didn't taste bad at all, but just didn't overwhelm me as it obviously did my brother and my five-year-old nephew. I have never seen that kid eat so much food! He was just shoveling the chicken into his mouth and sopping up the sauce with naan bread. This reminded me of pita bread, or flat bread, and I liked
the taste, but each piece was a bit scorched on one side. Is it supposed to be like that? I'm the one who always guards the rolls in the oven and the pancakes on the griddle 
to keep them from getting very brown. They also brought something before the meal that kind of reminded me of a chips in a Mexican restaurant, but it tasted a little like fish to me, and I'm not a fish eater. At all. No, not at all. Anyway, my brother did comment that it wasn't the best Indian restaurant he'd been to, so someday, I'll have to try again. (Bungi, if you read this, you'll have to let me know about the bread. Is it supposed to be like that?)4) Tomorrow, I'm doing a copy cat meal for dinner in the crock pot. When we were in Chicago last summer, we went to an Italian restaurant and had one of the best meals I've ever had. They called it "Mama's Gravy." It was basically pot roast cooked in red sauce and served over pasta with a little of either asiago or gorgonzola cheese melted over the top.
Todd and I split it, and it was served in this huge bowl and could have fed four or five easily. I was sad because we had to leave some behind as we didn't have a fridge in the hotel room. So, I made it (or something like it...I'll never achieve the quality of that sauce, let me tell you) a few months ago, and I'm trying again tomorrow. Everyone liked it, and it's a fun twist on the traditional slow cooker pot roast.You'd think I was a foodie and actually liked to cook or something, huh? I think it's growing on me.
Saturday, September 22, 2007
Scoreboard
Aesthetics and the Environment 1
Ease of Installation 0
Status Quo 00000000000000000000000000000
Yes.
(And lest anyone think I'm getting out of this easy while Todd's doing all that work, I'm removing old wallpaper border and the underlayer AND the primer that's covering up the texture. I wonder who will finish first?)
Isn't this pretty? You can click to see it larger. I like the porcelain accents on the ends because I like stuff that is simple and a little old-fashioned. Not ornate Victorian or angled Craftsman...can't ever quite find the right word to describe my style. Classic, I guess. Restoration Hardware on a budget.
And isn't it nicer than this? (Sorry, I just can't find a picture ugly enough. I could have used PhotoShop to add in the scratches and dust, but you'll have to use your imagination.)
Ease of Installation 0
Status Quo 00000000000000000000000000000
Yes.
(And lest anyone think I'm getting out of this easy while Todd's doing all that work, I'm removing old wallpaper border and the underlayer AND the primer that's covering up the texture. I wonder who will finish first?)
Isn't this pretty? You can click to see it larger. I like the porcelain accents on the ends because I like stuff that is simple and a little old-fashioned. Not ornate Victorian or angled Craftsman...can't ever quite find the right word to describe my style. Classic, I guess. Restoration Hardware on a budget.
And isn't it nicer than this? (Sorry, I just can't find a picture ugly enough. I could have used PhotoShop to add in the scratches and dust, but you'll have to use your imagination.)
Friday, September 21, 2007
Soapboxes R Us
Well, I had one very pleasant post before I got back into complaining mode. I think I'm going to change the name of my blog to Soapboxes R Us. Too bad I don't have a plug-in to make the R backwards, or I'd be all set.
What kind of idiot installs a bathroom light fixture off-center? In fact, what kind installs all kinds of fixtures in the same house off-center? Probably the same idiot, I'd guess, but I'm still not sure what kind.
We are trying to replace the outdated "makeup lights" in our bathroom with some more modern fixtures. Perhaps the universe is trying to tell us to be content with those old ones. BUT WAIT! The old ones have EIGHT light bulbs each. That's 16 total bulbs, which cannot even be replaced with the new, energy-efficient bulbs. I'm sure you know what I mean by "makeup" lights. Flourescent bulbs wouldn't be very pretty in them. Kind of "Mork from Ork" style, perhaps, but that's just not what we're going for. (And if you don't know who Mork is, you're too young to be reading this.) At any rate, surely it would be very green of us to replace those power suckers with relatively inexpensive ones that have only 4-5 lights. You would think.
When we (as in the Todd part of we) removed the old fixture over one sink, it turns out the junction box is not centered. The STUD is not centered. I'm not talking an inch or so. I'm talking about six inches. The old fixture didn't connect the same way. The new fixture, thus, when installed, looks pretty dang goofy.
So, now we're faced with a dilemma. Redo the junction box, which involves adding some kind of horizontal brace, which involves cutting a large hole in the sheetrock, then replacing it, taping and bedding, repainting (which we're doing anyway, so that's not a big deal). All for a 80 dollar fixture. Or...find another ugly light fixture? Or, put the cheesy one back up and deal with the ugliness and the major sappage of energy?
C-R-A-P!!!!
What kind of idiot installs a bathroom light fixture off-center? In fact, what kind installs all kinds of fixtures in the same house off-center? Probably the same idiot, I'd guess, but I'm still not sure what kind.
We are trying to replace the outdated "makeup lights" in our bathroom with some more modern fixtures. Perhaps the universe is trying to tell us to be content with those old ones. BUT WAIT! The old ones have EIGHT light bulbs each. That's 16 total bulbs, which cannot even be replaced with the new, energy-efficient bulbs. I'm sure you know what I mean by "makeup" lights. Flourescent bulbs wouldn't be very pretty in them. Kind of "Mork from Ork" style, perhaps, but that's just not what we're going for. (And if you don't know who Mork is, you're too young to be reading this.) At any rate, surely it would be very green of us to replace those power suckers with relatively inexpensive ones that have only 4-5 lights. You would think.
When we (as in the Todd part of we) removed the old fixture over one sink, it turns out the junction box is not centered. The STUD is not centered. I'm not talking an inch or so. I'm talking about six inches. The old fixture didn't connect the same way. The new fixture, thus, when installed, looks pretty dang goofy.
So, now we're faced with a dilemma. Redo the junction box, which involves adding some kind of horizontal brace, which involves cutting a large hole in the sheetrock, then replacing it, taping and bedding, repainting (which we're doing anyway, so that's not a big deal). All for a 80 dollar fixture. Or...find another ugly light fixture? Or, put the cheesy one back up and deal with the ugliness and the major sappage of energy?
C-R-A-P!!!!
Thursday, September 20, 2007
Is that a pancake your wearing?
We had breakfast for dinner tonight, always a favorite around our house. What's something you like to eat for dinner that's not quite the normal thing?
Barbara Samuel got me started thinking about family food traditions because of reading her fun post tonight about biscuits and wonderful home-cooked breakfasts.
Weird family food story--
Last Friday night I found a mix I bought on clearance at Target a month or so ago. Krusteez scones. Sounded like a good dessert with a handful of chocolate chips squished in on the kneading part. They were quite delicious, if I do say so myself. Light and fluffy and melt in your mouth good.
Well, my mom talked to my brother a few days later, and it turns out he took his little boy to a family potluck dinner at school one night last week. They were supposed to take an ethnic dish representing their family roots. Guess what he baked and took? Chocolate chip scones. From a mix, no less. How weird is that? I'm not sure either of us has ever eaten chocolate chip scones at the same time or in the same place, so it was a little eerie.
I guess those Scottish roots run deeper than I thought. (And being cooking-from-scratch challenged is hereditary as well, obviously.)
Barbara Samuel got me started thinking about family food traditions because of reading her fun post tonight about biscuits and wonderful home-cooked breakfasts.
Weird family food story--
Last Friday night I found a mix I bought on clearance at Target a month or so ago. Krusteez scones. Sounded like a good dessert with a handful of chocolate chips squished in on the kneading part. They were quite delicious, if I do say so myself. Light and fluffy and melt in your mouth good.
Well, my mom talked to my brother a few days later, and it turns out he took his little boy to a family potluck dinner at school one night last week. They were supposed to take an ethnic dish representing their family roots. Guess what he baked and took? Chocolate chip scones. From a mix, no less. How weird is that? I'm not sure either of us has ever eaten chocolate chip scones at the same time or in the same place, so it was a little eerie.
I guess those Scottish roots run deeper than I thought. (And being cooking-from-scratch challenged is hereditary as well, obviously.)
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
Yes, that, or no, actually. Maybe. Or not.
I posted this on my writing blog, but thought it was so funny, I had to post it here as well.
Monday, September 17, 2007
Is it spring break yet?
Fifth grade is hard. I have a lot of homework this year.
(And let me just say that it is good I am not a teacher. I am not a patient homework helper. My poor kids.)
(And let me just say that it is good I am not a teacher. I am not a patient homework helper. My poor kids.)
Friday, September 07, 2007
Not quite ready for prime time
My kids have always been pretty mature for their ages. Really. Other people tell me that frequently; it's not just my humble opinion. Of course, there is Ryan, who maybe reached the peak of his maturity and is going backwards now that he's in college. But anyway.
Tonight Todd and I decided to take our 10-year-old out with us for a slightly more cultural and in-tee-lect-ual evening than we usually attempt with kids in tow. We like our date nights, hadn't had one in a few weeks, and Kristen didn't have plans, so we just dragged her along.
First stop, First Fridays at the Modern. Kristen loves art, talks of becoming an artist one day, or, for plan B, an art teacher. So, we figured a short visit to the Modern was not a stretch. She's been there before with my in-laws and enjoyed it. She frequently refers to "I like to call him Andy Warhog" as her favorite artist, and really digs his flourescent green and black self-portrait hanging at the Modern. So, the special exhibit right now is sculptures by Ron Mueck. Amazing lifelike sculptures of people, only larger or smaller than the real thing. We've seen lots of news ads and reviews for this collection and thought it would be fun and Kristen would enjoy it, too. There was, however, the small matter of (in the museum's own words) mature subject matter, including nudity.
I led Kristen around this exhibit for 30 minutes or so with her arm intertwined with mine and both of her hands covering her eyes. She kept warning me not to lead her up or down any stairs without letting her know ahead of time, and asking, "Can I look now?" I kept telling her she could look all she wanted, but she'd only peel her hands away from her eyes if I placed her directly in front of a sculpture that wouldn't alarm her and promised there weren't any scary ones in her peripheral vision.
We got lots of sidelong grins and guffaws from other patrons.
Moving right along, when the museum closed, we went to Sardine's, a local Italian restaurant that's been around forever but I'd never been to. We didn't expect it to be quite so ... dark. As we walked in, Kristen said several times, "It's very dark in there. It's too dark, let's just go to Dickey's BBQ," which was right next door. We were able to read the menus by holding them very close to the candle.
The food was delicious, despite the fact they didn't have any kids' entrees. Kristen and I just decided to split spaghetti con pollo (a/k/a spaghetti with chicken), and they went ahead and put it on two plates for us. (Of course, that was $3 extra when we got the check, but they really did give us a ton of food for the money--we probably brought half of it home.) Kristen ate a few leaves of lettuce from the salad we split three ways and announced she was full. I convinced her she should try some of the spaghetti and said I'd pick off the green things and put all the chicken on my plate so all she'd be left with was plain old spaghetti.
Well ... in the process of handing me her plate, we knocked over a glass of Coke, and had to throw our cloth napkins over the rapidly spreading puddle before it ran into our laps. Our waiter came by shortly and offered to let us move to a new table, but we preferred to stay in our very dark corner. He brought new napkins, but for some reason dropped Kristen's into the remaining puddle. Really, he was very gracious and nice, but when we said we still needed another napkin, he brought several, and when I said I needed a new straw, he brought four. Hmm. Rough night for our waiter.
Kristen proceeded to entertain us with our favorite family party trick--sucking her nostrils totally in without touching her nose with her fingers at all. She also enjoyed dancing all over her side of the booth to the jazz combo's fortunately LOUD accompaniment.
All in all, it was a lovely evening. I had fuzzy memories of what it was like to go out with the kids when they were much younger, and a reminder that as mature as we like to think our kids are, they're not always quite ready for prime time.
Gotta love 'em.
Tonight Todd and I decided to take our 10-year-old out with us for a slightly more cultural and in-tee-lect-ual evening than we usually attempt with kids in tow. We like our date nights, hadn't had one in a few weeks, and Kristen didn't have plans, so we just dragged her along.
First stop, First Fridays at the Modern. Kristen loves art, talks of becoming an artist one day, or, for plan B, an art teacher. So, we figured a short visit to the Modern was not a stretch. She's been there before with my in-laws and enjoyed it. She frequently refers to "I like to call him Andy Warhog" as her favorite artist, and really digs his flourescent green and black self-portrait hanging at the Modern. So, the special exhibit right now is sculptures by Ron Mueck. Amazing lifelike sculptures of people, only larger or smaller than the real thing. We've seen lots of news ads and reviews for this collection and thought it would be fun and Kristen would enjoy it, too. There was, however, the small matter of (in the museum's own words) mature subject matter, including nudity.
I led Kristen around this exhibit for 30 minutes or so with her arm intertwined with mine and both of her hands covering her eyes. She kept warning me not to lead her up or down any stairs without letting her know ahead of time, and asking, "Can I look now?" I kept telling her she could look all she wanted, but she'd only peel her hands away from her eyes if I placed her directly in front of a sculpture that wouldn't alarm her and promised there weren't any scary ones in her peripheral vision.
We got lots of sidelong grins and guffaws from other patrons.
Moving right along, when the museum closed, we went to Sardine's, a local Italian restaurant that's been around forever but I'd never been to. We didn't expect it to be quite so ... dark. As we walked in, Kristen said several times, "It's very dark in there. It's too dark, let's just go to Dickey's BBQ," which was right next door. We were able to read the menus by holding them very close to the candle.
The food was delicious, despite the fact they didn't have any kids' entrees. Kristen and I just decided to split spaghetti con pollo (a/k/a spaghetti with chicken), and they went ahead and put it on two plates for us. (Of course, that was $3 extra when we got the check, but they really did give us a ton of food for the money--we probably brought half of it home.) Kristen ate a few leaves of lettuce from the salad we split three ways and announced she was full. I convinced her she should try some of the spaghetti and said I'd pick off the green things and put all the chicken on my plate so all she'd be left with was plain old spaghetti.
Well ... in the process of handing me her plate, we knocked over a glass of Coke, and had to throw our cloth napkins over the rapidly spreading puddle before it ran into our laps. Our waiter came by shortly and offered to let us move to a new table, but we preferred to stay in our very dark corner. He brought new napkins, but for some reason dropped Kristen's into the remaining puddle. Really, he was very gracious and nice, but when we said we still needed another napkin, he brought several, and when I said I needed a new straw, he brought four. Hmm. Rough night for our waiter.
Kristen proceeded to entertain us with our favorite family party trick--sucking her nostrils totally in without touching her nose with her fingers at all. She also enjoyed dancing all over her side of the booth to the jazz combo's fortunately LOUD accompaniment.
All in all, it was a lovely evening. I had fuzzy memories of what it was like to go out with the kids when they were much younger, and a reminder that as mature as we like to think our kids are, they're not always quite ready for prime time.
Gotta love 'em.
Thursday, August 30, 2007
Just in case you're bored
I have found a new way to entertain yourself. If you happen to get a call from a bill collector and the debt is not yours, you too can make your day a little more exciting and fun.
This really happened. (I dunno, maybe I shouldn't put this on my blog, but hey, just keeping it real.)
Background: I get the occasional call about debt that doesn't belong to me because of strange coincidences in my life. Won't go into detail--let's just leave it at someone else has the exact same name I used to have, incurred debt, and left me to deal with the consequences and bill collectors. Joy joy joy.
Anyway, usually the callers are polite and friendly, I set them straight, we have a little laugh, and we all move on. I don't hear from them again. Fortunately, it doesn't ever hit my credit report, because, well, it's not my debt. Simple enough.
Not today. Today, I got to experience a call from a rude, abusive bill collector. He interrupted me continuously as I attempted to explain why he called me instead of the right person. He told me it was my problem, and that I had to send or fax him something to prove it wasn't.
THEN...for extra love, he hung up on me in the middle of me talking. Wait a minute! Isn't it typically the consumer who hangs up on the bill collector? Well, yeah, especially when it's THEIR DEBT.
So today, I got mad and I got smart. I called him back. Yes, I did. During the first call, I asked to speak to his manager because of the way he was speaking to me, and he said there wasn't a manager available. I mainly called back to find out the name of the company and see if someone else answered and I could gripe to them, or see if someone else would send me to a manager, but guess what? Mr. Cheerful answered. I said I wasn't sure if I had talked to him or not, and he assured me I had. :-) He said he hung up on me because I was arguing with him. Imagine that!
So, after Mr. Cheerful informed me once again that the call was being recorded because it was an attempt to collect a debt, I said, "Good, because I want it recorded when I tell you once again that this is not my debt, and that I feel it is unacceptable for you to be speaking to me so rudely and abusively, even if it were my debt."
He kept going round and round with me about needing me to fax him something to prove it wasn't my debt, but he was much calmer, let me tell you. I finally took down the fax number and told him I'd think about it, and he got me off the phone as fast as he could after that.
So, I think I'm going to call him back tomorrow just for the heck of it, because I might be bored and want to talk to someone about how their day is going. I kept his phone number just in case. >:-}
(Disclaimer: I know that being a bill collector has got to be the suckiest job in the world, but that DOES NOT EXCUSE treating people like trash, whether it's their debt or not.)
This really happened. (I dunno, maybe I shouldn't put this on my blog, but hey, just keeping it real.)
Background: I get the occasional call about debt that doesn't belong to me because of strange coincidences in my life. Won't go into detail--let's just leave it at someone else has the exact same name I used to have, incurred debt, and left me to deal with the consequences and bill collectors. Joy joy joy.
Anyway, usually the callers are polite and friendly, I set them straight, we have a little laugh, and we all move on. I don't hear from them again. Fortunately, it doesn't ever hit my credit report, because, well, it's not my debt. Simple enough.
Not today. Today, I got to experience a call from a rude, abusive bill collector. He interrupted me continuously as I attempted to explain why he called me instead of the right person. He told me it was my problem, and that I had to send or fax him something to prove it wasn't.
THEN...for extra love, he hung up on me in the middle of me talking. Wait a minute! Isn't it typically the consumer who hangs up on the bill collector? Well, yeah, especially when it's THEIR DEBT.
So today, I got mad and I got smart. I called him back. Yes, I did. During the first call, I asked to speak to his manager because of the way he was speaking to me, and he said there wasn't a manager available. I mainly called back to find out the name of the company and see if someone else answered and I could gripe to them, or see if someone else would send me to a manager, but guess what? Mr. Cheerful answered. I said I wasn't sure if I had talked to him or not, and he assured me I had. :-) He said he hung up on me because I was arguing with him. Imagine that!
So, after Mr. Cheerful informed me once again that the call was being recorded because it was an attempt to collect a debt, I said, "Good, because I want it recorded when I tell you once again that this is not my debt, and that I feel it is unacceptable for you to be speaking to me so rudely and abusively, even if it were my debt."
He kept going round and round with me about needing me to fax him something to prove it wasn't my debt, but he was much calmer, let me tell you. I finally took down the fax number and told him I'd think about it, and he got me off the phone as fast as he could after that.
So, I think I'm going to call him back tomorrow just for the heck of it, because I might be bored and want to talk to someone about how their day is going. I kept his phone number just in case. >:-}
(Disclaimer: I know that being a bill collector has got to be the suckiest job in the world, but that DOES NOT EXCUSE treating people like trash, whether it's their debt or not.)
Thursday, August 23, 2007
Rarrrhhh! (Soapbox warning!)
Today is schedule pickup day for both girls, and lemme tell you, if it wasn't, I'd have to . . . um . . . do something I might regret. (My mom suggests burying your offspring from the neck down from the ages of 12 to 18, leaving only their heads above ground so they can breathe and you can feed them , but I might have to extend that to age 10.) If they could both just groan and grumble a little more, it might set some kind of record for this summer.
Pick pick pick. Jab jab jab. Whiiiiiiiine. Louder, I can't hear you!
Shew.
So, we are ready for school to start in approximately 91 hours.
And mom is cranky. But not just because of all that. There's more.
I'm on a soapbox since last night when we went school clothes shopping at my formerly favorite store, Target. Well, I guess they'll have to stay my favorite discount store, because I realized as I did a little research on the Internet last night ALL the stores do this, not just Target.
We were in the girls' department, and my youngest got a hankering for a cute pair of capri pants in the school uniforms section. Understand, she's not required to wear uniforms at her school--other than a strict dress code that some days makes parents long for a uniform policy. However, as you know, I am domestically challenged, and uniforms would likely make me crazy, because they'd never be clean on the right days. Well, Todd would probably be organized enough it wouldn't be a problem, but if it were up to me .... I digress.
So, you remember my post a while back about the young girl who was "overweight?" (From China, or maybe it was Viet Nam, can't remember for sure.) I got on a soapbox about that because the kid was like 5'4" and 100 pounds or something, and they were saying she was overweight.
Well, I've got a new one for you.
As we were checking out the cute khaki capris with the pink and black polka-dotted interfacing and striped ribbon belt, we noticed something. When I got home, I researched it further because it was bugging me that much. At Target, Walmart, JC Penney, and I'm sure any number of other department stores, they charge $2.00 extra for girls' plus size uniform items.
Yeah. Seriously.
Okay, I can kind of understand the extra charge for adult plus size clothing. It does take more material to create larger-sized clothing, and perhaps there are some other considerations on equipment, etc. BUT LITTLE GIRLS. Let's do the math. If you are a size 12+ little girl, your pants are still smaller than a size 16 regular little girl. And shorter. BUT, because you have that little plus on the end of the tag that allows your pants to fit your little pre-teen poochy belly body without the legs dragging five inches past your feet, you pay $2.00 extra. Or at least your parents do.
I really can't say much else without getting ugly other than what kind of message is this sending our little girls? Even at age 8 (yes, 8+'s also pay the extra two bucks), you should somehow fit into the "ideal" we have created for female bodies in this country. (And yeah, they do it for the boys, too, in the "husky" sizes. I checked.) Is this new, or have they always done this for kids? I just don't remember, but it doesn't seem like it. I am glad they have responded to the fact that not all kids come in the same sizes and shapes, but still. I don't see them giving a $2.00 upcharge (or even discount. HA!) for the slim sizes, by the way. Sounds like unequal treatment to me.
Excuse me while I go puke.
Pick pick pick. Jab jab jab. Whiiiiiiiine. Louder, I can't hear you!
Shew.
So, we are ready for school to start in approximately 91 hours.
And mom is cranky. But not just because of all that. There's more.
I'm on a soapbox since last night when we went school clothes shopping at my formerly favorite store, Target. Well, I guess they'll have to stay my favorite discount store, because I realized as I did a little research on the Internet last night ALL the stores do this, not just Target.
We were in the girls' department, and my youngest got a hankering for a cute pair of capri pants in the school uniforms section. Understand, she's not required to wear uniforms at her school--other than a strict dress code that some days makes parents long for a uniform policy. However, as you know, I am domestically challenged, and uniforms would likely make me crazy, because they'd never be clean on the right days. Well, Todd would probably be organized enough it wouldn't be a problem, but if it were up to me .... I digress.
So, you remember my post a while back about the young girl who was "overweight?" (From China, or maybe it was Viet Nam, can't remember for sure.) I got on a soapbox about that because the kid was like 5'4" and 100 pounds or something, and they were saying she was overweight.
Well, I've got a new one for you.
As we were checking out the cute khaki capris with the pink and black polka-dotted interfacing and striped ribbon belt, we noticed something. When I got home, I researched it further because it was bugging me that much. At Target, Walmart, JC Penney, and I'm sure any number of other department stores, they charge $2.00 extra for girls' plus size uniform items.
Yeah. Seriously.
Okay, I can kind of understand the extra charge for adult plus size clothing. It does take more material to create larger-sized clothing, and perhaps there are some other considerations on equipment, etc. BUT LITTLE GIRLS. Let's do the math. If you are a size 12+ little girl, your pants are still smaller than a size 16 regular little girl. And shorter. BUT, because you have that little plus on the end of the tag that allows your pants to fit your little pre-teen poochy belly body without the legs dragging five inches past your feet, you pay $2.00 extra. Or at least your parents do.
I really can't say much else without getting ugly other than what kind of message is this sending our little girls? Even at age 8 (yes, 8+'s also pay the extra two bucks), you should somehow fit into the "ideal" we have created for female bodies in this country. (And yeah, they do it for the boys, too, in the "husky" sizes. I checked.) Is this new, or have they always done this for kids? I just don't remember, but it doesn't seem like it. I am glad they have responded to the fact that not all kids come in the same sizes and shapes, but still. I don't see them giving a $2.00 upcharge (or even discount. HA!) for the slim sizes, by the way. Sounds like unequal treatment to me.
Excuse me while I go puke.
Monday, August 13, 2007
Overheard in DC
(Well, Bethesda, if you wanna get technical.)
While exiting Ruby Tuesday restaurant at about 9:30 p.m. Two employees sitting on bench taking a break.
Female RT employee: What happened?
Male RT employee: I don't know what happened. All I know is I woke up and he was lying on the counter. Dead. With his eyes wide open.
What the???
While exiting Ruby Tuesday restaurant at about 9:30 p.m. Two employees sitting on bench taking a break.
Female RT employee: What happened?
Male RT employee: I don't know what happened. All I know is I woke up and he was lying on the counter. Dead. With his eyes wide open.
What the???
Wednesday, August 08, 2007
Time between the lightning and the thunder
Isn't it amazing how one event can change your world in a dramatic way? That's how the last week or so has been for my family. We are survivors, though, and it's all going to be fine.
Speaking of family, here are a couple my favorite little creatures.
Thursday, July 26, 2007
ABC Family's values
Wow. I was just sitting on the sofa surfing while my kids watched ABC Family and their ten-millionth episode of Boy Meets World (which my son says is the Brady Bunch of their generation, along with Step by Step and Full House, by the way).
The show ended, and the between-show commercial spots ran. An ad for HP Pavilion notebooks was what caught my ear:
"Get a new HP (model whatever) out of your parents for just $999! Or a (model whatever) for $499!"
Things have come a long way since, "Follow your nose!" and "Frosted Lucky Charms are magically delicious!" and "You sunk my battleship!", haven't they?
The ante has been upped.
My girls snuck looks at me after the commercial, and Emilie said, "Ridiculous."
It might have been the "WHAAAAAAT?!?!" I let out spontaneously that inspired her to say the right thing. I hope not. Kids are smarter than we think. That's what scares me.
The show ended, and the between-show commercial spots ran. An ad for HP Pavilion notebooks was what caught my ear:
"Get a new HP (model whatever) out of your parents for just $999! Or a (model whatever) for $499!"
Things have come a long way since, "Follow your nose!" and "Frosted Lucky Charms are magically delicious!" and "You sunk my battleship!", haven't they?
The ante has been upped.
My girls snuck looks at me after the commercial, and Emilie said, "Ridiculous."
It might have been the "WHAAAAAAT?!?!" I let out spontaneously that inspired her to say the right thing. I hope not. Kids are smarter than we think. That's what scares me.
Monday, July 23, 2007
Another birthday for the little Kricket
Wow, it's my third birthday post for my baby girl since I started this blog! Where has the time gone? All my kids are "double digits" now--that must mean I'm getting old. As you can see, she still has her priorities in the right order. She's not grown up just yet!
Happy Birthday to my own blue-eyed beauty!
Friday, July 20, 2007
Why friends don't let friends (fill in the blank)
So, I got a new cell phone last week. (And don't you hate it when people start blog posts with the word "so"? I do, too, but it's just so tempting I can't resist!!!)
I was much attached to my little tiny Nokia with all the buttons on the front and the super-dee-dooper flashlight on the end. I carried it around with me at night after all the other creatures were asleep when I finally shut down the computer and went to bed so I wouldn't stub my toes or other parts. (And, since we're being up front, I still carry it at night. I keep it charged, because it's the best flashlight and reading light ever.)
I got a fancy schmancy newfangled flippy-picture-and-video-taking-text-messsaging-ringtone-downloadable-voice-commandable-it-probably-babysits-your-children-while-you-go-to-the-grocery-store Samsung phone. They practically gave them to us (in fact, they are truly paying us to use them for the first three months, so if you are out of contract and want someone to pay you to use a new cell phone for three months and still end up with a cheaper bill afterwards, go to Costco!).
How could we resist? We gave up on our old company after we determined that: a) They didn't want to help us, really. b) They were going to charge us an arm and a leg for everything--phones, service, existing as human beings. c) They were going to make us change all our numbers just because we wanted to change the name on the account. d) They, obviously, were unconcerned about customer loyalty even though we've faithfully paid them, on time, and more than we pay for, say, WATER, or personal items per month, which are really more necessary if you think about it, for nearly a decade.
And they haven't even called us to find out why we left yet. I guess that's one thing in AOL's favor. They'll do anything to get you back.
I digress.
So, (there it is again), I'm now learning to use all the bells and whistles on my new phone. It is, in fact, harder than geometry, and that's saying something if you knew me when I took geometry. My children are patiently teaching me all kinds of tricks. I am a computer freak, but other electronics slay me, and frankly, I just don't care. People used to try to get me to make the copy machines or printers work when they were messing up in my old offices, because they knew I was a computer freak, and I just laughed in their general directions. Computers hold the key to my success. Other things that plug in? Why bother.
But, I have successfully sent text messages to Gail so we can have brief conversations about when we're going to work out (and this is quite an accomplishment if you know the two of us--yes, the working out and the brief conversations). I have installed a photo of my beautiful, yet feisty and death-wish-filled cat on the wallpaper. I have even mastered the art of calling a few people using the voice command. The lady who asks me what I want to do has serious pronunciation issues, though, and cracks me up with her inability to recognize names I have clearly YELLED into her ear. I apologize to everyone I have inadvertently called this week when the voice command lady interpreted (as a fake example) Sally Smith as John Doe.
If you've read this far, this brings me to the subject at hand. Finally.
I have always tried to be a conscientious cell phone user and follow the rules like:
1) No talking on your cell phone in the library or church. Or ... in the middle of talking to an agent, as Kristin Nelson talked about in her blog one time. That is a bad idea, apparently.
2) Turn the ringer off during movies, especially when the super scary AMC employee comes in before the show starts and warns that you'll be forcibly removed if you are seen using a cell phone during the feature presentation. (This really happened when we went to see Premonition.)
And, of course:
3) Put your cell phone down while you're driving and you see a police officer approaching, because if you are breaking any other rules, the cell phone attached to your ear is probably not going to help your case.
Which brings us to my point.
My dad is always reminding us kids about not using cell phones while we drive. I, in turn, remind my son not to use his cell phone while he drives. It makes me wonder if my dad uses his while he drives. (Just think about that for a moment.) I don't think he does, though, considering he even hands the phone to someone else in the car when he's a passenger because he can't hear. Hehe.
Anyway, I've discovered that my fancy schmancy new phone is much more difficult to master while driving, so I have cut back considerably on my office hours in the car. I could use that old Nokia puppy with one hand, knew exactly how many up and down arrows it took to call the people I needed desperately to talk to at that exact moment, etc. Piece of cake. The new one takes two hands and three brains, which is pretty tricky while you're driving. It gives me new respect and much sympathy for all the people I've dialed who answered the phone while driving as if their lives depended on it.
Which brings me to my actual point. This is the funny part, I promise.
Yesterday, while working out at the Y, I was sitting on the recumbent bike, alternately spinning my legs and resting because my stomach still hadn't quite recovered from the bubonic plague I contracted last weekend. I was listening to my Once CD (don't forget, this is a movie you have to see while you still can!) and reading a book at the same time. You think this sounds difficult? It was, but not so difficult I couldn't observe an approaching Y patron.
She walked slowly toward the bike at the end, breaking Y rule number one: Use of cell phones in the exercise areas is prohibited! I casually watched with my peripheral vision as she approached the bike, sat down, slowly began to pedal, and held a heated conversation on her cell phone. All this while a 8 1/2 X 11 inch piece of paper printed very prettily with the words "OUT OF ORDER. SORRY FOR INCONVENIENCE." floated gaily in front of her face, covering the computerized controls of the bike. She didn't notice until she'd been sitting there for a minute or two and finally decided to select her speed when her conversation ended. Then she abruptly stopped pedaling, looked around to see if anyone was watching (not ME!!), and got up. In her shock, she went to a different type of machine altogether.
I said all that to say this. I think I'm going to stop talking on the cell phone while I drive. You probably shouldn't either. Friends don't let friends talk on their cell phones and drive.
(Anyone know a good 12 Step Program for this?)
I was much attached to my little tiny Nokia with all the buttons on the front and the super-dee-dooper flashlight on the end. I carried it around with me at night after all the other creatures were asleep when I finally shut down the computer and went to bed so I wouldn't stub my toes or other parts. (And, since we're being up front, I still carry it at night. I keep it charged, because it's the best flashlight and reading light ever.)
I got a fancy schmancy newfangled flippy-picture-and-video-taking-text-messsaging-ringtone-downloadable-voice-commandable-it-probably-babysits-your-children-while-you-go-to-the-grocery-store Samsung phone. They practically gave them to us (in fact, they are truly paying us to use them for the first three months, so if you are out of contract and want someone to pay you to use a new cell phone for three months and still end up with a cheaper bill afterwards, go to Costco!).
How could we resist? We gave up on our old company after we determined that: a) They didn't want to help us, really. b) They were going to charge us an arm and a leg for everything--phones, service, existing as human beings. c) They were going to make us change all our numbers just because we wanted to change the name on the account. d) They, obviously, were unconcerned about customer loyalty even though we've faithfully paid them, on time, and more than we pay for, say, WATER, or personal items per month, which are really more necessary if you think about it, for nearly a decade.
And they haven't even called us to find out why we left yet. I guess that's one thing in AOL's favor. They'll do anything to get you back.
I digress.
So, (there it is again), I'm now learning to use all the bells and whistles on my new phone. It is, in fact, harder than geometry, and that's saying something if you knew me when I took geometry. My children are patiently teaching me all kinds of tricks. I am a computer freak, but other electronics slay me, and frankly, I just don't care. People used to try to get me to make the copy machines or printers work when they were messing up in my old offices, because they knew I was a computer freak, and I just laughed in their general directions. Computers hold the key to my success. Other things that plug in? Why bother.
But, I have successfully sent text messages to Gail so we can have brief conversations about when we're going to work out (and this is quite an accomplishment if you know the two of us--yes, the working out and the brief conversations). I have installed a photo of my beautiful, yet feisty and death-wish-filled cat on the wallpaper. I have even mastered the art of calling a few people using the voice command. The lady who asks me what I want to do has serious pronunciation issues, though, and cracks me up with her inability to recognize names I have clearly YELLED into her ear. I apologize to everyone I have inadvertently called this week when the voice command lady interpreted (as a fake example) Sally Smith as John Doe.
If you've read this far, this brings me to the subject at hand. Finally.
I have always tried to be a conscientious cell phone user and follow the rules like:
1) No talking on your cell phone in the library or church. Or ... in the middle of talking to an agent, as Kristin Nelson talked about in her blog one time. That is a bad idea, apparently.
2) Turn the ringer off during movies, especially when the super scary AMC employee comes in before the show starts and warns that you'll be forcibly removed if you are seen using a cell phone during the feature presentation. (This really happened when we went to see Premonition.)
And, of course:
3) Put your cell phone down while you're driving and you see a police officer approaching, because if you are breaking any other rules, the cell phone attached to your ear is probably not going to help your case.
Which brings us to my point.
My dad is always reminding us kids about not using cell phones while we drive. I, in turn, remind my son not to use his cell phone while he drives. It makes me wonder if my dad uses his while he drives. (Just think about that for a moment.) I don't think he does, though, considering he even hands the phone to someone else in the car when he's a passenger because he can't hear. Hehe.
Anyway, I've discovered that my fancy schmancy new phone is much more difficult to master while driving, so I have cut back considerably on my office hours in the car. I could use that old Nokia puppy with one hand, knew exactly how many up and down arrows it took to call the people I needed desperately to talk to at that exact moment, etc. Piece of cake. The new one takes two hands and three brains, which is pretty tricky while you're driving. It gives me new respect and much sympathy for all the people I've dialed who answered the phone while driving as if their lives depended on it.
Which brings me to my actual point. This is the funny part, I promise.
Yesterday, while working out at the Y, I was sitting on the recumbent bike, alternately spinning my legs and resting because my stomach still hadn't quite recovered from the bubonic plague I contracted last weekend. I was listening to my Once CD (don't forget, this is a movie you have to see while you still can!) and reading a book at the same time. You think this sounds difficult? It was, but not so difficult I couldn't observe an approaching Y patron.
She walked slowly toward the bike at the end, breaking Y rule number one: Use of cell phones in the exercise areas is prohibited! I casually watched with my peripheral vision as she approached the bike, sat down, slowly began to pedal, and held a heated conversation on her cell phone. All this while a 8 1/2 X 11 inch piece of paper printed very prettily with the words "OUT OF ORDER. SORRY FOR INCONVENIENCE." floated gaily in front of her face, covering the computerized controls of the bike. She didn't notice until she'd been sitting there for a minute or two and finally decided to select her speed when her conversation ended. Then she abruptly stopped pedaling, looked around to see if anyone was watching (not ME!!), and got up. In her shock, she went to a different type of machine altogether.
I said all that to say this. I think I'm going to stop talking on the cell phone while I drive. You probably shouldn't either. Friends don't let friends talk on their cell phones and drive.
(Anyone know a good 12 Step Program for this?)
Friday, July 13, 2007
Macy optional
Just for Bungi, and because many, many people would hate me and they would stop coming to my blog if I caused Macy Gray to pop up on my player and play automatically...
Click here to hear I try in Windows Media.
Click here to hear I try in Real Player.
(The image of Macy Gray on Real Player alone is enough to scare you.)
And, just for clarification, I did take the song lyrics totally out of context. It is a break up song, and I am certainly not trying to break up with my beloved daughters. Hee! But, for reasons still unknown to even me, I have always liked this song.
Looks like ProjectPlaylist is doing some new stuff. I need to go check it out.
Click here to hear I try in Windows Media.
Click here to hear I try in Real Player.
(The image of Macy Gray on Real Player alone is enough to scare you.)
And, just for clarification, I did take the song lyrics totally out of context. It is a break up song, and I am certainly not trying to break up with my beloved daughters. Hee! But, for reasons still unknown to even me, I have always liked this song.
Looks like ProjectPlaylist is doing some new stuff. I need to go check it out.
Thursday, July 12, 2007
My world crumbles when you are not there
Just when I think I've seen and heard everything, I look up and Macy Gray is singing on Sound Stage on PBS, and my daughters are standing behind the kitchen counter ... they're finger painting, but now they're also following Macy's directions—waving their hands in the air, throwing their heads back, screaming, and looking especially beautiful. Just as Macy Gray promised they would if they would just do what she said.
And I'm sitting on the couch, rolling and laughing, and it's so funny it is especially beautiful. And I'm just a prisoner of their love. J
I may appear to be free
But I'm just a prisoner of your love
And I may seem all right and smile when you leave
But my smiles are just a front
Just a front, hey
I play it off, but I'm dreaming of you
And I'll keep my cool but I'm feignin'
(From Macy Gray, I Try)
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
Bungi's blog
If you are interested in the things I've posted the last few times, you should check out my new Blogger friend Bungi's postings, especially the last few days. She happened upon my blog randomly one evening a few months ago, and we linked up to each other's blogs and have been passing comments back and forth since. I like Bungi's attitude and writing--she is an intelligent, fun, interesting girl with a passionate heart for the things she believes.
She lives in India and works with people living in poverty there through a microfinance and women's financial services organization. (Hope I got that right, Bungi.)
Life goes on...
She lives in India and works with people living in poverty there through a microfinance and women's financial services organization. (Hope I got that right, Bungi.)
Life goes on...
Friday, July 06, 2007
Little drops of rain
Since my last post, I've been doing some thinking and looking around. I believe I'll try to post things here on my blog as I come across them. They might be areas in which you, too, could help others, or if they're local to my area, they might spur you to check for similar needs in your own or around the world.
As I pulled up my search page this morning, it occurred to me that I'm already doing this.(Thanks to my son, who changed my home page default a few months ago.) You can use SearchKindly for your default search or home page. Any searches you do there, while still powered by the omnipotent Google, generate funds for a particular organization around the world. Each month, the users vote for the organization to receive the next month's funds. It's not a huge amount, but usually around $500-$700 per month goes to good causes simply by using this search portal. The funds are generated from the advertisers on the page.
Check it out here.
Then, this week we received word that the Family Crisis Center of Cleburne, TX, is in desperate need of twin- and full-sized sheet sets, bath towels, and wash rags. They can be new, but used ones in decent shape are welcome. Our church is collecting them this Sunday. How many of us have piles of these things in our linen closets collecting dust (or in our case, constantly getting dragged out by kids who are bored and really have plenty of other tent-building or sleepover supplies, and who daily forget to hang their bath towels up to dry, and so get another one out every time and toss the other one in the laundry)? If you think about it, this could even contribute to family harmony. Heh. What organizations in your area could use this help?
Just some thoughts.
As I pulled up my search page this morning, it occurred to me that I'm already doing this.(Thanks to my son, who changed my home page default a few months ago.) You can use SearchKindly for your default search or home page. Any searches you do there, while still powered by the omnipotent Google, generate funds for a particular organization around the world. Each month, the users vote for the organization to receive the next month's funds. It's not a huge amount, but usually around $500-$700 per month goes to good causes simply by using this search portal. The funds are generated from the advertisers on the page.
Check it out here.
Then, this week we received word that the Family Crisis Center of Cleburne, TX, is in desperate need of twin- and full-sized sheet sets, bath towels, and wash rags. They can be new, but used ones in decent shape are welcome. Our church is collecting them this Sunday. How many of us have piles of these things in our linen closets collecting dust (or in our case, constantly getting dragged out by kids who are bored and really have plenty of other tent-building or sleepover supplies, and who daily forget to hang their bath towels up to dry, and so get another one out every time and toss the other one in the laundry)? If you think about it, this could even contribute to family harmony. Heh. What organizations in your area could use this help?
Just some thoughts.
Wednesday, July 04, 2007
Taking it all for granted
Happy Fourth of July. We just got back from spending the day with friends grilling and swimming (YAY! NO RAIN! For the first time in ... um ... forever!), and then the grownups watched a movie while the kids watched another and played.
We watched Blood Diamond, and can I just say, Wow. Wow. Wow. I am still somewhat speechless. (But as you know, I always recover fairly quickly from speechlessness.) This movie is set in 1999 in the midst of the Sierra Leone civil war. Through the viewpoints of a family torn apart, a soldier of fortune, and an American journalist, it explores some of the situations behind the war, most specifically the conflict diamond trade (smuggling diamonds out of the country to sell for arms and ammunition), with a subplot about the children forced to fight in the revolutionary army.
Movies like this are always quite sobering and leave me feeling a little ... blue? ... sad? ... helpless? All of the above.
Todd and I had an interesting discussion when we got home. I asked him what he thought about the movie, and he said it was good, but frustrating, kind of like Hotel Rwanda or Sometimes in April (both excellent movies, but like this one, not for the faint of heart). He said learning about situations like Sierra Leone almost makes him want to shrug and say, “Yeah, that was interesting and sad, but so overwhelming, what the heck can *I* do about it?”
Then we considered that the point Blood Diamond and Hotel Rwanda make is that while we certainly cannot as a single person or family have a huge influence on the horrific conditions in many parts of the world (including some in very our own backyards), we can start with small actions or helping one or two people. It is still baffling and frustrating to know which one or two to help, or which small actions to take, of course. In the Sierra Leone situation, the actions of a few led many governments to join together to create public policy, which, while it may not keep people from continuing to perform illegal actions (smuggling, etc.), at least sends the message that these things are unacceptable and attempts to foster an environment of change.
I recommend you check out this movie, then do your own research to find out what horrors are taking place around the world or under your own nose, and carefully consider what small actions you can take to make a difference. At the very least, consider how much most of us (if you are reading this, probably you) take for granted our comfortable Independence Day celebrations—complete with endless supplies of grilled steak, hamburgers, and ice cream, beautiful yards and swimming pools, comfy living rooms and DVD players, and most of all, the ability to walk down our streets without fearing for our lives or those of our family members. Be thankful. (Then do something.)
I’m pointing one finger at you, and three back at myself, while I look at the wedding ring on my finger and wonder if the diamond there caused anyone to lose their life.
We watched Blood Diamond, and can I just say, Wow. Wow. Wow. I am still somewhat speechless. (But as you know, I always recover fairly quickly from speechlessness.) This movie is set in 1999 in the midst of the Sierra Leone civil war. Through the viewpoints of a family torn apart, a soldier of fortune, and an American journalist, it explores some of the situations behind the war, most specifically the conflict diamond trade (smuggling diamonds out of the country to sell for arms and ammunition), with a subplot about the children forced to fight in the revolutionary army.
Movies like this are always quite sobering and leave me feeling a little ... blue? ... sad? ... helpless? All of the above.
Todd and I had an interesting discussion when we got home. I asked him what he thought about the movie, and he said it was good, but frustrating, kind of like Hotel Rwanda or Sometimes in April (both excellent movies, but like this one, not for the faint of heart). He said learning about situations like Sierra Leone almost makes him want to shrug and say, “Yeah, that was interesting and sad, but so overwhelming, what the heck can *I* do about it?”
Then we considered that the point Blood Diamond and Hotel Rwanda make is that while we certainly cannot as a single person or family have a huge influence on the horrific conditions in many parts of the world (including some in very our own backyards), we can start with small actions or helping one or two people. It is still baffling and frustrating to know which one or two to help, or which small actions to take, of course. In the Sierra Leone situation, the actions of a few led many governments to join together to create public policy, which, while it may not keep people from continuing to perform illegal actions (smuggling, etc.), at least sends the message that these things are unacceptable and attempts to foster an environment of change.
I recommend you check out this movie, then do your own research to find out what horrors are taking place around the world or under your own nose, and carefully consider what small actions you can take to make a difference. At the very least, consider how much most of us (if you are reading this, probably you) take for granted our comfortable Independence Day celebrations—complete with endless supplies of grilled steak, hamburgers, and ice cream, beautiful yards and swimming pools, comfy living rooms and DVD players, and most of all, the ability to walk down our streets without fearing for our lives or those of our family members. Be thankful. (Then do something.)
I’m pointing one finger at you, and three back at myself, while I look at the wedding ring on my finger and wonder if the diamond there caused anyone to lose their life.
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