Inside the Mind of a Maniac

The Baby's Room

2009-09-08T14:16:00.012-05:00

My parents came to town over the weekend and a whirlwind of projects ensued. For one, The Baby's room is done! My dad and I executed my closet sketch plan, we picked up the dresser and put together the crib (both gifts from The Husband's parents), they edged the front yard, and we organized baby stuff. Here are some pictures.

Before work began

My dad and I putting the crib together. My mom eventually joined in - there were some difficult aspects of the design, but it all seems put together and sturdy.

Hammering nails into the wall and trimming clothesline to hang the ABC cards that Katie from work gave us. They have animals on them and we hung them by clothespins.

Mom and I with the crib together and the decorations up! (Wow, my hair looks bad)

The rocking chair cushions and curtains I sewed. The curtains still need to be hemmed, but you get the general idea.

The new dresser and the little lion bank that Courtney and Scott gave us. It's going up on a shelf that will be above the dresser.

The ABC cards all up. My dad had to respace them 4 or 5 times as we realized more needed to drop to the bottom string. He was very patient. :)

Outside Sounds

2009-09-01T10:51:00.004-05:00

I've started to notice unusual sounds at night. We've always had noise from I-44 and freight trains, which have become like soothing auditory blankets at night. We've even acclimated to nightly police, fire and ambulance sirens speeding down Watson or Hampton - plus the occasional police helicopter. In the last few years, the macaw across the street has joined in at intervals CAW! CAW! CAW!

A couple new ones have begun mingling with the usual. Are they new or am I just noticing them more? Is it that I awaken every three hours to go to the bathroom? One is a church bell on the hour. How did I not notice this before? It's undoubtedly been there the entire 8 years I've been in this house.

And then there's the rooster. Yes, the other noises, such as the highway, trains, and sirens imply we are in fact in an urban area. And we are. The City of St. Louis allows up to three chickens per yard. I think their flexibility is terrific, and it's extra considerate when you acknowledge how many immigrants and refugees live in the city. Many of these populations have come from countries where it's quite common to have farm animals in their yards.

So now we regularly year the crow of a rooster from about a block away. I feel like I'm getting used to it. But did you know that roosters don't just crow in the morning? No, they pretty much do it at all hours.

Anybody Got Some Ideas for MORE Projects I Could Do?

2009-08-20T15:14:00.004-05:00

I really hate our hall closet. Actually, I've hated it for the last 5 years, I've just never done anything about it. So, with a little over 7 weeks left in my pregnancy I've decided to redesign it. Oh yeah, and I'm also sewing curtains and rocking chair cushion covers for The Baby's room. But back to the closet...

The closet currently has 2 shelves at the top and a coat bar underneath. Under the coats is a plastic drawer, metal rack, and general pandemonium. I pulled everything out and realized we'd just kept buying soap, toothpaste, and saline because we didn't know what we already had. And so the sketch was done. The new design allows us to organize all our bathroom/kitchen linens, bathroom items, yoga mats, weights, and vacuum. Additionally, there's tons of space for little storage cubes to keep everything organized. Another plus is that I've found reusable materials in our chaotic basement and will only need to buy one peice of wood for shelf supports. We already had shelving. I love that.

I did the sketch while The Husband was at work on Saturday. It's glorious. He didn't find it so glorious. Even though I'd been talking about it for months, the appearance of the pencil sketch set off his "change alarm" and he went into partial panic mode. Where will the coats go? What all will be in there? Why is this happening?!?! After a little time, we discussed his concerns and he's on board now. He even made a helpful offer: If I make lines with Sharpie where I want the wood cut, and even mark where the nail holes should go, he would cut and hammer them. Very helpful.

Too Fat

2009-07-31T12:01:00.005-05:00

Had a doctor's appointment today and the nurse said I would be in big trouble for being too fat (she didn't say it in those words, but that was the gist). She may have actually said, "Dr. B may yell at you for the number on the scale".

Indeed, he was less than thrilled that I'd gained 16 pounds in 5 weeks. Um, I'm eating for two y'all! Although I'll be honest, I'm pretty much eating for six, and perhaps lounging on the couch for twelve. I'm just really tired and hungry, and more tired and more hungry. I don't think my calories are truly out of control, but the lack of exercise is.

I immediately called The Husband and told him the awesome feedback. He agreed to be motivating and go walking with me. At this point, motivation may mean using one of those nursing home strappy crane things for getting people out of bed.

The picture is of me and my Mom last week in Colorado. See, big, yes?

Cheesey Goodness

2009-07-12T09:57:00.004-05:00

I'm VERY impressionable right now when it comes to food. Maybe it's pregnancy, maybe it's my perception that I can eat whatever I want because I'm pregnant. And despite the fact that other people say I look great pregnant, I've of course decided that I'm way too big for where I'm at. Really? How would I know? I just feel big and can't imagine that I have three more months to get bigger.

But I digress...we're on the topic of food. One of the case managers from work had macaroni and cheese for lunch the other day (I feel it only fair to say that she's pregnant also), and I just had to have it. I went online to my favorite recipe site, cooks.com, and perused their offerings for mac n' cheese. I found one that looked delicious, and which may also be written by someone who's British (measurements are in pints and grams. I had my dad convert the pint measurement and used our kitchen scale which measures in both grams and ounces. Many items have grams on the packaging and you just need to estimate - which is fine for something like this). I went to the grocery store on my way home and got all the fixins'. I made it immediately, and I have to tell you, it's some of the best mac n' cheese I've ever had. So good that I felt the need to share the recipe. I'm also adding a couple notes on changes I made. If you make it, good luck (although you won't need it, it's super easy).

Simple Macaroni Cheese
Printed from COOKS.COM

1 pt milk (16 oz, I used 2%)
50 g butter (I used Smart Balance)
50 g plain flour
200 g Macaroni pasta
150 g Cheddar cheese (I shredded it to make it melt easier)
50 g Red Leicester cheese to top (it's an Irish cheese in the "fine" cheese section. You could probably use a sharp cheddar)

Boil water and add pasta when boilt. Meanwhile, melt butter in a saucepan, add flour to stir to a roux (paste). Take the roux off the heat and gradually add milk, stirring all the time so as not to get lumpy. Put pan back on a high heat and stir until sauce has thickened. Remove once again from heat and add Cheddar cheese. Stir until cheese has melted. Drain macaroni and put into casserole dish. Pour the cheese sauce on top and sprinkle with Red Leicester cheese (I stirred the macaroni a bit to make sure the sauce made it to the bottom of the dish). Place under a hot grill (I put it in our oven broiler) and wait until the cheese has turned brown. Remove and eat when slightly cooled.

I highly recommend it with cut up tomatoes on the side, or a leafy salad with tomato, basil and balsamic vinegar/olive oil. I had planned a tomato, basil and mozzarella salad but didn't feel like I needed more cheese. I would have taken a picture if we hadn't eaten it all so quickly.

Tums Are My Hero

2009-06-29T13:17:00.003-05:00

I've grown to love the cool minty smoothness of off-brand Tums. Strangely, my third trimester started on Saturday, and I've had horrible heartburn approximately every 4-6 hours since then. I even woke up at 5 am this morning (mostly from the sound of something the cats had knocked over) and asked The Husband to get me some Tums. I think it's fair to mention that he was already up looking around to see what had been knocked over. I didn't just randomly ask a peacefully sleeping insomniac to get up to do a task for me.

I'm tellin' ya, they work every time I take them. I'm just a little curious on how many I'm allowed to take per day.

My Name's Carolyn, and I'm a Snow Cone Addict

2009-06-24T12:53:00.004-05:00

Let me start out by saying that Murray's Shaved Ice is the devil. Less than 1/2 mile from our house is a seemingly innocuous looking shed. Inside that shed are surly teens who peddle snow cones in about a million different flavors. I'd not paid too much attention to the situation until the recent heat wave. The Husband and I had gone to dinner at Stelina (a delicious little organic place on Watson Rd.) and I wanted something sweet. Ted Drew's Custard, which is less than a mile away? No, we decided on the snow cone shed place across the street from Stelina.

Decisions, decisions. We both got mediums because it seemed like the conservative thing to do - he black cherry and I cherry-cola. They were HUGE! Not only were the cups the size of big gulps, but they also made these huge domes of shaved ice on the top. How were we to get all that in our mouths before the heat wave tumbled them down the fronts of our shirts? We sat on a bench and began working away at them. I finished mine, he put half in the freezer...because he apparently has way more self control than I.

The next day he got his out to finish...and I didn't have one. And so I left the house in 100 degree heat and drove back to Murray's. Now, I'm the type of person that gets the same kind of something every time I go. I know what I like and rarely deviate from said liked item. To be adventurous, and because there were so many flavors to choose from, I decided that I have to get a different flavor every time - or at least until I get down to the gross flavors like birthday cake and banana. This time I got a small in strawberry lemonade - and it was HUGE! Still a big cup and still a massive dome. Incidentally, I ran into K from work and was horrified that she was going to walk around the corner with 2 larges...domes and all! No free hand to wave erratically, just two full hands of massive snow cones.

Oh yeah, the next day I went down to a kiddie, which was completely manageable and got pink lemonade. I think it's worth saying, the smaller you go, the less cost efficient it becomes. A kiddie is $1.50, small is $1.75, medium $2.00...with GIGANTIC size differences. I need to develop my self-control and rotate them in the freezer.

(The picture above is an actual photo from the shed on Watson Road)

Has Nobody Learned From Anita Bryant?

2009-05-11T10:50:00.003-05:00

I was super fired up about the Miss California controversy, and sadly, much of my fire was taken away by a spirited conversation I had with my parents on the issue. I don't really have strong feelings about her personal opinions, because I believe everyone needs to have their own opinions. I guess I feel strongly about her colossal blunder in front of millions of people. Here's how I feel:

I think that everyone should have their own opinions, whether they agree with mine or not. Without differing opinions we would live in an unstimulating, static society without any change. With that said, I feel that every human deserves the same rights as others. Just because they're different from me doesn't make them deviant or inferior.

If I were involved with pageants, I truly feel that I would understand the expectation of being politically correct. Please, by all means, go home and be a hate monger on your own time, but don't act shocked if you're a beauty queen and people are mad if you don't represent all that is open-minded and pure. The voyage of a beauty queen is one of acceptance and inclusion...those pageants are not meant to be grandstands for moral issues. If you want to voice your opinion then go be a commentator on Fox News.

If you enter a pageant and commit yourself to a cause, oh, let's just say the Special Olympics, try not to turn around and change your cause to something less benevolent. It's really bad form to represent yourself one way and bait-and-switch later.

If you're going to join with a conservative Christian group, scour the Earth to ensure no surprise pictures of you topless could surface.

While I think Carrie Prejean answered the question unwisely, I also have to look back to when I was 21 (seriously, is she just 21? Those girls are made up to within an inch of their lives). I would have wanted to spew out my personal feelings on an issue, but I WOULD LIKE to think that I would have said something diplomatic. Note: Anyone who knew me at 21 knows that I would have shoved my foot and all the judges feet into my mouth and swallowed hard.

Like I said, I brought it up with my parents (mostly my dad) and our discussion pretty much purged a lot of my feelings on it. I have to admit, I feel sorry for Carrie Prejean. I think she's a kid who thought she was being true to herself and let things get carried away afterward (meaning getting involved with the right-wing peeps). She's probably a good person who doesn't really know who she is yet...perhaps being molded by her upbringing. I would really hope that she would have at least looked to see what her future could become by going down this road of self-righteousness. Anita Bryant was the beauty queen sweety-pie of everyone - until she took on gay rights issues. She now lives in poverty, estranged from both sides of the issue (except for her hate-preaching website...I guess she still has that).

The Calamitous 19th Century

2009-01-14T18:11:00.003-06:00

First, I cannot tell you how many half-written posts are cluttering my blogger account. To try to safeguard against throwing in the towel on this one I've set up a fun play list consisting of the Best of BooTie 2008. I assure you, these are not "bootie-shaking" songs. They're AWESOME mashups. You can download it for free at http://www.bootieusa.com/bestofbootie2008/)

Bottom line is, if I don't finish this post by the end of the music there's a good chance it will join the rest of the exiled partial posts.

So what does "The Calamitous 19th Century" mean anyway? Well, it relates to a book that I'm reading right now called "The Calamitous 14th Century". It's a nerdy little non-fiction piece that follows a French knight named Engeruand de Coucy and details what life was like at that time. It discusses serf uprisings, royal procedures, cultural and societal discontent with the church, and a whole lot of things that nobody but me and my dad care to read about.

How does this book relate to this blog post? As I've been reading this book it's become SHOCKING just how truly history repeats itself. On Sunday mornings The Husband and I bundle into blankets, eat breakfast, and watch CBS Sunday Morning, Face the Nation and Meet the Press. These shows always push me to follow our political situations abroad, financial difficulties in our own country, and who makes sacrifices in times of trouble such as massive bailouts.

In the 14th century, if there was some sort of emergency or war that troubled a king, pope, lord, etc., the answer was always to raise the taxes of peasants or other common people. Usually knights, royalty, and politicians were exempt because they were "serving the people" just by their own positions. Who's paying for this massive bailout of auto makers, banks, and anyone else who convinces our government they're worthy of help? Tax payers. And which tax payers? The middle class...peasants. The first massive bailout was a colossal failure; nobody even tracked where the money went. WHAT?!?! What happened to transparency and oversight? How are we certain that my taxes didn't give some CEO a 10 million dollar bonus? Ok, I'm getting off topic...

Moving on to this Israel/Gaza thing. I know it didn't just start, it's been fairly ongoing, but there certainly seems to be a significant flair-up. I don't mean to imply that the whole situation is about religion or cultural differences, but there does seem to be concern about living next door to people who aren't the same as them...on both sides. What were the Crusades? They were trampling into other people's countries to convert them to righteousness. And FYI - only one Crusade on record was actually deemed anywhere near a partial success. I'd bring up the Iraq war and our quest to bless the people of that country with Christianity and Democracy, but that's honestly not going to help me finish this.

And that brings us to my last musing...pillaging and plundering. If I had finished my last post you would have gotten details and maniacal ramblings about our burglary on December 8th (just as a shout out to the burglars...we haven't replaced anything...nothing to steal...please don't come back). My heart felt absolutely broken after someone(s) came into our home and rummaged through our drawers and belongings. But it is true, and always has been since the beginning of time, that when there are economic problems it's in our nature to take from our neighbors. It doesn't make it right, it just is.

Humans are humans, and it's unfortunate that our natures have established these behaviors since our beginnings. There are several things I feel certain of:

The rich and powerful will exploit the less rich and powerful
People will take other people's things
People will brutalize others for power, to assimilate them, or just because they feel like it

Lest you feel concerned that I may have become cynical, paranoid, and bitter - I have not. I am merely writing about comparisons that have become apparent to me while reading a long and immersing book.

Ok, maybe a little bitter.

A Kitten for your Thought?

2008-09-14T10:29:00.008-05:00

Yeah, that title was lame, but anything else would have involved me being a crazy cat lady or a reference to "Cat Killer" across the street.

So it's very important to know, especially for me, that the saga of "fixing" the feral cat colony in our neighborhood could be coming to a close within the month. Why is this important? Let me tell you:

It's important to me so that I can stop trapping kittens and trying to find places to put them.
It's important so that I can stop having wild animals in my car en route to the vet.
I long for a time that I don't feel like I'm torturing animals by making them ride in my car.
I am desperate to not think about little tinies (kittens) hiding in the chassis or wheel wells of cars and getting driven to death.
Even though me and The Husband (that might be the first time I've used his new name on my blog. If things go as we both expect there shouldn't be any sort of name change for, oh, I don't know, the REST OF OUR LIVES!) don't mind using our hard-earned money to pay vet bills on stray animals, it would be really nice to not do that. Note: The people at Yorkshire Animal Hospital have been rock stars and seem to be giving me a deal. Either they think I'm crazy and unstable, they feel sorry for me and my parade of hissing beasts, or they believe in what I'm doing. Based on their online reviews, the largest complaint being that it's too hard to get an appointment because of the volume of rescue animals they treat, I believe the last.

Which brings me to the most recent events. I have fixed the main breeders and have one more female to make me feel like my work is done. As I drove down our street two nights ago I saw two little kittens chasing each other down the street. I parked and rousted my partner in crime, a middle-aged woman from across the street named M. Her hulking police officer son's heart broke when I told them about the wayward kittens. He went over to the car where they were hiding and grabbed one. Just like that. That's when we realized they were only 3 weeks old or so and still blind. We all held the tiny gray tabby and looked around for it's deadbeat mom that allowed it to run in the street.

And here comes the Cat Killer, we'll call him CK. He is someone that I will not hand the kitten to. He was charged several years ago with drowning a large number, around ten, cats and kittens. He's kind of weird and has lots of strange activities going on as of late. Some might call them manic activities - oh, and there was an elderly lady that fell down his steps, and an ambulance a couple nights later. Just weird and random stuff.

So he comes out and wants to help. Says the kittens are living in his garage (we already knew that and we hoped he didn't). He also says that his sister's mastiff had killed one of the four kittens that morning. He alleges that he's been feeding them and that he'll keep the dog away.

I'm getting bored with this post and need to wrap it up. If I'm bored I can't imagine how you're feeling right now.

Ok, so I tell him I'll get the kittens and their mother in a couple weeks. The momma cat comes out of the garage and walks over to us. I put her kitten down and they saunter away together. That little tiny thing was the cutest thing EVER - besides it's half brother Nova that lives in our house that was rescued under similar circumstances two years ago, but at 2-3 weeks old (seems appropriate to post photos of him, two are when we first found him and the last is recent. I swear I didn't put him in my purse - I found him there napping a couple months after he moved in.).

Facebook is Kind of the Devil

2008-09-05T22:08:00.010-05:00

I signed up for both MySpace and Facebook for two reasons:
1. Because I have many associates who "collect" friends on these networking sites like some might collect thimbles or embroidered patches while traveling. They get really excited about adding more, seeing them pile up.
2. Because I like to check people out that I'm interviewing for jobs. Seriously, you would be SHOCKED what some people put online about themselves, especially while seeking employment. A MySpace or Facebook profile can be better than any reference!

So here I am, I'm on these, checking in every couple months and feeling kind of guilty because I've not kept up with accepting friend requests, and I've got an inbox full of messages from people I know and like.

Then I got bored one day. I realized there was such thing as "friend finder" on Facebook and I took a peek. It was pretty interesting actually - you could look up people through your email or your high school class. I even stuck my neck out and invited a couple people to be my friend - and then panic struck.

Now, I realize that probably 99.9% of people in my high school class didn't know me anywhere near as well as I knew me...and I wasn't a fan of me. I really wasn't. I have a hard time recalling much about high school actually. I know I dated boys who were older, never from my class (yeah, creepy), I was fairly "troubled", but in ways I think I hid pretty well (and also in ways I didn't realize were a problem until my mid-twenties). I remember always hanging out with people and having a lot of fun, but I also remember I moved around to different people a lot. I couldn't maintain long term friendships. I'm not sure if that was my doing, or if it was theirs, but it was definitely a pattern (except for Amanda).

And now I'm in St. Louis. I've figured myself out, "detroubled" - and I like myself. I have a lot of friends - people I've been friends with for almost 8 years. I've found a certain amount of serenity and feel centered, accepted, and reassured that it will continue. I also have a pretty kick-ass husband with a huge brain...and yes, he's still an older boy (I will undoubtedly have much to write after his 20-year high school reunion in Chicago this weekend).

Which brings me back around to Facebook. I started feeling nervous when I opening sought acceptance from high school people . I don't know what they thought of me, and I really don't care. But a certain insecure high schooler part of me started caring. What if they ignore my request? OR, what if they accept it because they feel sorry for me or because it's the polite thing to do? Did I like them? Did they make me dislike myself more?

What it all comes down to is this: I've chatted with a couple people on Facebook that I really liked in high school. We've chatted about things that we're doing now - not about back then. I'm pretty established here and don't have anything to feel insecure about. It's a networking site that's kind of fun, and I too kind of like to "collect" friends. I've run into my cousins, my co-workers, my high school classmates, but mostly people I'm friends with now.

Anywho, if you get around to it and happen to be on Facebook...you know, look me up...(the photo above is for no particular reason, I just like it, and the post seemed too bare).

Balance and Blogging

2008-08-26T09:55:00.006-05:00

I realize I haven't written since April, and I also realize there probably isn't anyone that still checks to see if I have updated. However, I was reminded by a co-worker and friend today that we're both desperately struggling for balance...and she thought blogging again might help.

Normally I might rebel at such a suggestion (mostly because I'm stubborn and hate to think others know me better than I know myself), but in this case, she is super smart, trained in mental health, and probably might know me better than I know myself.

It is true, there have been so many changes and happenings since April. Maybe everything just got all bunged up and I had neglected my blog, which was a constructive way to let it all out. Some of the highlights:

I got married - that was big. I may put up some photos in a future post as proof.

I became a triathlete - big too. I trained all summer and competed in three races...maybe I'll post those photos also.

I got bangs. I haven't had bangs since "mall bangs" in junior high. This may be one of the largest changes.

I thought there were TONS of changes, but I guess not really. Some are work related which I won't write about because it's uncool, but also because I could get fired since I signed a confidentiality waiver.

So I think that's it for now. I think this was a good way to get my toes wet again. I need to check over on Liz's blog because she does a good job of regularly updating. She can be my inspiration. Ta for now.

OMG It's Hanna Montana!!!!!

2008-04-11T22:52:00.010-05:00

I've long considered myself to be a music snob of the highest regard. I tend to stay away from local radio, listen to angsty and obscure bands, and definitely don't do much buying of CDs (mostly because the bands I prefer to associate my tastes with would never sell out enough to actually
produce CDs...or maybe record labels want no part of them).

But I digress. I've noticed in the last year that I haven't stayed "in the know" as far as music and bands. I'll turn on the radio and catch a couple songs on the way to work, or maybe turn on a little techno internet radio in my office, but beyond that I've been in a silent little world.

I was driving in the car the other day and heard the tail end of a song that caught my attention. It was a sassy girl, with the potential to be slightly angry, but definitely sassy. I looked forward to when we would meet again.

Fast forward to the Fiance and I in the car, innocently driving somewhere or other. The magical song came on. I cautiously admitted that I like the song. It went something like this, "Oh, I think I kind of like this song. I'm not sure who it is, I figure at absolute worst it's Ashlee Simpson". He looks at me slowly, "No, (dramatic pause) I believe it's Miley Cyrus".

BAH! I had mistaken what the absolute worst could be and had somehow ruled out this strange tween phenom, Miley Cyrus/Hanna Montana. I seriously don't know how all this Hanna Montana craziness started, or how her tickets are being scalped for $2,000 a piece.

Just to catch up any rational adult that ignores trends that will in no way make them smarter: Miley Cyrus is Billy Ray Cyrus's 16 year-old daughter and she apparently sings songs that are slightly older than her age. Hanna Montana is (I think) a TV show that started all the madness. She's a student by day, and has a secret alter ego by night that wears a blond wig - Hanna Montana.

Anyway, the moral of the story is that I have somehow been tricked and just downloaded the song. I should have known it was someone really young (and there's really no way to not figure out it's Miley Cyrus) when one of the sections was:

The last time I freaked out,
I just kept looking down,
I st-st-stuttered when
You asked me what I'm thinkin' bout
Felt like I couldn't breathe
You asked what`s wrong with me
My best friend Lesley said
"Oh she's just being Miley!"

To further my mortification I've included photos above of both Miley and Hanna Montana. Additionally, I've linked the title of this post to a site where you can both read the lyrics and hit play on the "Videos and Widgets" box and hear the actual song. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a catchy teen song to listen to a couple more times before putting on my jammies and going to bed.

Here's my Rotating List of Doom

2008-03-21T23:25:00.003-05:00

I have a cycle of doom, usually signified by intense feelings of being overwhelmed, anxiety, panic, and inadequacy. It's lovely, you'll just have to take my word for it.

Anywho, my latest round came to a head this afternoon. I'm usually able to keep it contained, or I talk with friends and get it out of my system. Today, I came home and told The Fiance that I feel unappreciated for all the stuff I've done for the wedding (oh yeah, did I mention I'm getting married in 2 months...I'm sure that has nothing to do with how I'm feeling). As a side note, which I eventually conveyed to The Fiance: I don't WANT him to do more on his own. Seriously, how annoying would it be if I had a fancy little reception card designed, and here he comes with one of his own? Or what if he had gone out and ordered supplies to make favors? Would we have a battle royale, an urban sort of fight to the death in a homemade boxing ring in our back yard?

The number of things I would like to be making progress on are far too numerous to take seriously, below are a few:

Get out wedding invitations (shouldn't be too bad, it's going to be a small affair with fewer than 30 invitations. It should be done by the end of next week).
Call The Fiance's mom (this isn't actually stressful, just something I want to do by the end of the weekend. I feel that I, as the bride, may fill in the details of the wedding better than The Fiance. I say this not because he's not interested in the wedding, or of keeping his parents informed, but because boys don't care as much about wedding details, right?).
Make favors, find bridesmaid dresses, plan ceremony, meet with officiant (also not stressful, he's a pal of ours), figure out what the boys in the wedding are wearing, print programs, etc, etc, etc, etc.
Buy a chest freezer (this is vital. Not only can I stock up on my Healthy Choice and Lean Cuisine lunches when they're on sale, but we can also freeze The Fiance's ever-growing supply of homemade bread, and prepare freezable foods such as lasagna for our families when they come for the wedding - I would like this to happen within the next 3 weeks. Anyone have a vehicle that can haul a small freezer? You know my number.).
Trap cats and kittens (The Mama, Mittens, and Sterling must be caught. These neighborhood cats could populate the entire block if I don't get them, have them fixed, and release them back out. I am seriously stressed about taking care of this cycle of perpetual procreation).
Put down fertilizer (this weekend...has to happen this weekend).
Clean the basement (ask me in 5 years if I've completed this task. If yes, I'm not human, no mere mortal could actually complete this project. Ok, I'm going to be optimistic and say it will be done by the end of August).

I think that's a decent summary of some of the highlights. It really helped to get it out of my whirling brain. I needed a little purging of thoughts, and it's not as intimidating when I have it laid out with deadlines. Maybe I should do a REAL list with deadlines and put it all on our family calendar. Maybe I need to add that project to the list?

An Interesting Story

2008-02-25T12:55:00.004-06:00

This may not be as interesting to you as it is to me, but it concerns my engagement ring.

A couple weeks ago I bumped my ring on a railing at the Y while I was running around the track. I didn't think anything of it at the time and kept jogging. A couple days later I saw something strange. There appeared to be a dent in the side of the white gold bezel that goes around the stone (I've included a photo the ring to makes it easier to understand).

I was kind of concerned, but not super concerned because I figured I could get it fixed. But in the back of my mind I felt really guilty at my irresponsibility AND the idea that my ring might possibly be made of construction paper and masking tape and by the time I'm 80 I'll have a mangled mess on my wrinkly finger.

I moved on and tried not to obsess too much.

So, fast forward two weeks later when I noticed gross chunks of ickiness inside the bezel - time to clean the ring. I soak it in windex for a day and scrub it with a toothbrush.

Um, where did the dent go. This dent that was causing me to question my future with this ring was actually a smudge of black paint from the rail. Instead of being a delicate flower of a ring, it happens to be so hardcore that it removes paint from things when bumped. Yeah.

Dipping My Toes in the Blog Waters

2008-01-24T13:25:00.000-06:00

I know I've been gone for a bit, and my sister is relentless in her desire for more blog posts. I think it's mostly because she's told some friends about my super cool blog and then I flaked out. Yeah, really super cool, huh?

Anywho, I found out something interesting at my boot camp class this morning (you know, the class I wrote about before that crushes my will to live every Tuesday and Thursday from 7-8 am?). So I struggle with shuttle runs. You may recall those as the sprints we all did in elementary school where you run to the free throw line and back, run to the middle line and back, etc. Usually the boys run while the girls rest and vice versa. This morning there was an odd number, so Joe (the classes personal trainer that rivals only Satan in his cruelness) put me with the boys. I know these results aren't scientific by any means, but I cut 6 seconds off my time. I know that I'm less competitive with women, but I'm shocked to think that I'm just that competitive with men.

You might say, "Well Carolyn, geez, I would hope you're improving each class.". But listen here friend, I cut 6 seconds off from THE BEGINNING OF CLASS THIS MORNING...after running, jumping, planking, etc...my last shuttle run of the CLASS had the best time.

Ok, I'm amending my earlier statement...my data is TOTALLY scientific!

I'm Vibrating

2007-12-11T09:09:00.000-06:00

The title was just a teaser...I'll tell you WHY I'm vibrating a little later on. So I haven't heard from The Fiance since last Thursday, and it makes me feel sad. I'm sure he's sad too, since he was horribly homesick, and I'm sure something strange happened - like the battery hooked up to the village cell phone went down or something. I'm about ready for him to be home.

So, I'm a little prone to depression anyway, and I think not hearing from him has exacerbated me feeling down. I had all these great projects planned, and I haven't done any of them. I wanted to clean the basement, organize the closets, and paint the bathroom (he didn't know about that one, but I figured since he was going to be gone for a while he wouldn't notice). It's not too late, I could probably knock one or two of those out this weekend. But, I need to get the house ready for my brother's visit next week and work in the concessions stand at the Rams game on Sunday (for the Cystic Fibrosis Foundation). In lieu of projects, I've been staring at the TV and eating bad things. The projects can probably wait.

The vibrating this morning was caused by a "boot camp" class at the Y. I tried it out to see if I want to sign up for the next session. It was really hard. I didn't realize it until a little while ago, but our warm up involved running over a mile! I don't run a mile, much less multiple miles unless in danger. We also did all sorts of pull-ups, sit-ups, push-ups, dips, etc. in quantities that I don't feel are that healthy. PLUS, my newly acquired work-out buddy didn't show up! She'd better be missing a limb the next time I see her. The trainer that ran the class said that he trained for a tri-athalon once and his training partner skipped...that's way worse.

So, I'm sitting at my desk - vibrating - twitching - getting more sore by the minute. I really hope The Fiance calls today so I can "reset" and get some stuff done tonight.

Update: My workout buddy emailed to let me know that she had to be at work early (a little lame, since that meant 9:00 am - the same time I go to work - but she gets a couple free passes). We had agreed to not exchange phone numbers so we couldn't call with an excuse, but clearly now is the time to get each other's numbers.

Day 4 and On...

2007-12-04T09:28:00.000-06:00

Captain Blogger left me a reminder comment about my vow to post each day while the Fiance is gone. AND, my sister has left me reminder emails and voicemail messages. BUT, our internet is down at home and now I can't log on to windows. It's pretty frustrating really. To remedy this situation I have decided to blog during lunch. Normally I take my Lean Cuisine or Smart Ones frozen lunch into the kitchen and eat with other staff. About half that time we sit idly and discuss the merits of each frozen meal - which one's better, which one is the "it" meal, etc. I figure I can take 30 minutes to eat, and 30 minutes to blog, forgoing the lunch comparisons.

So here's my catch up. I've kept notes on each day, but sadly my accompanying photos are on the broke-ass home computer. I'll put those up later (which means after The Fiance returns and he fixes it).

Day 4 (11/30/07)

Today is the day for the girlie spa night. I had extra hours from work so I took the day off. I cleaned cleaned cleaned and M came over around five to prepare the space. It started at six, and by then we had transformed the place with white table clothes and candles. It looked fantastic. All the people I really wanted to show up came, and we did our nails, face masks, and all got our eyebrows waxed (one person waxed their lip, but I feel there's a certain anonymity protecting their identity...but you know who you are). I have to say that I sometimes hate social situations, but I had a ton of fun at my own party.

Things the Fiance should Know:

It appears that one of the cats stood up in the litter box and had some sort of "explosion" in a circular motion around the entire box. I blame Tiny.

Day 5 (12/1/07)

Happy World AIDS Day! I worked out this morning with K, then worked on a graphic project for an organization we belong to, then I made an appointment for a massage. This elfin young woman came out and it was hard not to giggle while imagining her being able to manage my nearly 5'10" frame. And let me tell ya - she kicked my ass. She got out a massive knot (which made her gasp as she explained she thought I had a tumor), but it's now swollen and really painful. But she did do a fantastic job and my shoulder pain (except for the tumor) is gone.

At night I went to T's tree trimming party with B. It was pretty fun. It was low key and bursting with tasty coffees and teas. T is a barista at Starbuck's and it was freakish that when he makes coffee at home it tastes just like Starbucks! I got home around 8 and sat at the coffee table making bottle cap magnets. The cats helped.

I heard from the Fiance, he sounds good. He's traveling with some peace corp volunteers.

Things the Fiance Should Know:

The internet is down and it makes me mad.

Day 6 (12/2/07)

Yeah - Happy 38th birthday to the Fiance! I heard from him today and he sounded good. He seemed more homesick than before. Today I did something I haven't done in a long time - I sat on the couch and didn't do much of anything. I watched Marie Antoinette with Kirsten Dunst, which was pretty good. It was a little slow at times, but I liked the soundtrack and costumes. I also worked on bottle cap magnets and straightened up a little.

I've noticed that for some reason when I live alone I allow myself more downtime and more liberties with food. I think there's a certain shame factor when the Fiance is around that makes me stay busier and watch how I'm eating. Don't get me wrong, those are good things, but I could probably use more downtime on a regular basis. The house is also staying cleaner. That's not to say that he messes it up - because I actually think I leave things around more - but I'm spending less time cleaning because it's getting less messy.

Things the Fiance Should Know:

The internet is still down.
Even if the internet were up, I can't use the computer because it won't let me log on. I was FURIOUS last night. I have a computer project that I want to work on and it kept logging me off. I hate computers.

Day 3 1/2

2007-11-29T20:57:00.000-06:00

Did I mention the Fiance had planned a trip to Togo West Africa? He left on Monday and will be gone 3 1/2 weeks. I told him that I would try to blog every day that he's gone so he can catch up on my comings and goings when he returns. They may not be that exciting, but they will be what one might consider an online journal - minus any personal details I don't feel like sharing.

So the first couple days I couldn't write because I was paralyzed with worry (and binge eating) because I hadn't heard from him. FINALLY, he called this morning to let me know that he was there safely and had figured out how to call. Cell phones are aplenty, but he had to figure out how to buy minutes, or to use public cell phone port things. He ended up calling a second time in the afternoon after realizing just how easy it is. The sound was fantastic...he could have been in the office next to mine it was so clear.

The things I would like him to know about today are:

He forgot the tan t-shirt he'd bought the day before leaving. I found it in the clean laundry. He got it because it wouldn't show dirt very much. Woops.
The cable on our TV was perfection for a few glorious hours - and then it went back to super crappy reception. It was amazing while it lasted.
Our internet is obviously back up - through no credit of my own. It just came back like magic.

Until tomorrow.

Punkins' and Seeds

2007-10-30T21:29:00.001-05:00

The Fiance and I decided we should carve pumpkins for trick-or-treating tomorrow night. Here is your opportunity to not only see our amazing creations, but to also see the new color of our kitchen, as well as my new glasses. :)

Here are our pumpkins (and the new paint behind them). The Fiance's is on the left (Bruno) and mine is on the right (Claus Bergstrom...my sister will get the Knight Rider reference).

Here is me and Claus Bergstrom (and my new glasses, which you can't see well in this picture).

The Fiance and Bruno - who turned out looking much cheerier than Claus...Claus looks quite angry really.

Bruno and Claus Bergstrom on the bale of stray that The Fiance is using to build an adobe clay oven in our back yard. Thankfully he hasn't needed to use it yet so we could use it as a Halloween prop.

Me stirring the punkin' seeds - I'm supposed to be stirring it like a witches cauldron. ..and I looked much more evil and crazed before I fixed the red eye.

The TREMENDOUS amount of seeds our two paltry pumpkins produced...they turned out delicious!

Our scary Halloween black cat.

Last Minute Trip

2007-09-25T20:43:00.000-05:00

The Fiance and I have been talking about going kayaking for some time. We just never seem to make the plans and keep kind of busy. With what? I have no idea when I really sit down and think about bit...but we're some busy people.

Thursday, around 4 pm I called him to see if he could get away for a night. Since he said he could, I booked a cabin in Lesterville, Missouri at The Wilderness Lodge. I had no idea what the cabin was going to look like, but it seemed to be in a great location - and dinner and breakfast were included...quite the deal.

I have photos to post, but none of kayaking...I didn't want to flip and destroy my camera. As it turns out, I did not flip - but The Fiance did while trying to avoid some drunk canoers. It wasn't much of an emergency because we were in about 1 1/2 feet of water. It got deeper in parts, and we both came up with requirements for our next trip - he wants it to be longer, I want rapids.

The Cabin

From the outside. The cabin was partially built into the side of the hill. There are four cabins in that seemingly tiny building.

Our screened back porch. It was really nice when it was dark out (and it was really dark). They had candles in the cabin and we lit them back there and listened to the "night". Personally, if I were renting out a cabin I don't think I'd encourage candles - fires happen with less, especially in a small building entirely made of exposed wood.

The entry (to the right) and kitchen (sort of - a sink, refrigerator and coffee maker).

View from the back porch. The couch (with The Fiance napping), the beds, and the kitchen. The cabin could have slept 4 people.

View from the entry. You can see the windows by the back porch and fireplace (which I'm pretty sure would have asphyxiated us with smoke had we not put out the fire).

Weird cage-like thing on the playground.

The 5-mile stretch of river was supposed to take us 3-4 hours. Because we're absolute kayaking maniacs, we finished in two. We had several hours until dinner, so we did the only rational thing possible - we went to a Civil War Re-enactment in Pilot Knob. It was the most bizarre thing I think I'd ever seen (keep in mind, I've been to Burning Man...this was way stranger). I'll let the photos tell the story.

The Re-Enactment

Confederate soldiers hanging out proudly by their Confederate flag (which, strangely, still hangs outside houses in these parts).

A Yankee riding his fancy carriage around. In the world of Civil War Re-Enactments, you KNOW that carriage makes him one of the cool kids.

Union soldiers in formation. Too bad they had to have that cheesy flag string thing...kind of ruins the feeling of authenticity.

Union soldier camp. They seemed much more organized and uniform than the Confederates. I realize it may have been that way in real life, what with the South not really having money for the war and all, so that seemed very authentic to me.

Oh ho, a covered wagon.

Daddy's Girl

2007-09-18T09:00:00.000-05:00

My dad and I are exactly the same, right down to the dorky history books we read BY CHOICE for fun...and then exchange them with each other because we know that nobody else in the world cares to read about Germaine de Staels part in the French Revolution (he'll be getting that book when I go home at the end of the month). Because we're so similar, if there needs to be some sort of "come to your senses" talk from my parents to me, he is not the one. The two of us can needle, banter, argue, and fight with the ferocity of...well, with the ferocity of something strong and scary...like lions or something.

We are the same. We think in the same way, but have fundamentally different views on life. Who's right? Neither of us. We both have religious and political beliefs based on our life experiences. As I've gotten a little older I've seen our intense political discussions become less heated and more mature - an actual exchange of information that allows each of us to understand the other a little better. And yes, I realize that sentence started with "As I've gotten a little older", but I would rather believe that our discussions have gotten more mature because HE'S gotten older.

With that said, I have a TON of nostalgia about growing up with my dad. My mom always got the bad rap because she was home with us all day. She woke us up (I still have flashbacks of her making her voice high-pitched - "Time to get up, time to get up, TIME TO GET UP"), kept us organized, disciplined us, got us to school, got us home from school, drove us to dance, soccer, gymnastics, art, etc., and made us do our homework. That's not to say we didn't have great experiences with her, like following the garbage man around the block on our big wheels, playing on the kitchen floor while she cooked, or all three of us girls putting on nail polish as she got ready to go out to dinner. But seriously, the parent that's home is the one that's more familiar. It was an event when dad came home from work. We'd hide, usually in the same places, and he'd put on a big production of finding us.

As an adult, there are so many triggers that remind me of my dad - mostly music. He and I are both FREAKS about music. I can't help but believe that my passion for music is learned from him. I have a really clear image of my dad and I sitting against the green love seat and listening to 45's (for you kids - that's vinyl). More importantly, I got to pick out many of the records we listened to - usually my selections were based off the picture on the label. Paul and Linda McCartney got much more attention than they deserved because of the pretty green apple on their records.

As time went on, my sister arrived and she got involved with our music listening (she wasn't as committed though - she seemed to flit around more then me when it came to the record player). We heard Three Dog Night, Lovin' Spoonful, Herb Albert and the Tijuana Brass, The Limelighters (my least favorite), the Beetles, and The Kingston Trio. T and I made up dances in the living room that are legendary - to us anyway, they usually involved pretending Ann Boleyn's head was underneath our arms after it was chopped off...The Kingston Trio taught us early what a tyrant Henry VIII was.

I think about those times quite a bit, especially when I hear "our songs". Sitting in front of my computer on a day when I go into work late, I've been looking up music from that time. I can almost smell what the record box smells like (and still does back at their house) and hear my mom bustling around the kitchen.

I've actually become kind of a music snob, and pride myself on having an eclectic collection of obscure tunes...and I've also got more Three Dog Night and Lovin' Spoonful in my music library than I care to admit.

(And yes, that is an actual picture of me with my parents during the "Golden Age", i.e., before the other two kids came along. I really loved that outfit I'm wearing in the picture - seriously, I really did. The second photo is my dad and sister a couple years ago at her wedding.) ;)

Scooter Etiquette

2007-09-16T09:45:00.000-05:00

There's a particular way of recognizing fellow scooter enthusiasts while riding along.

The old man on the blue scooter in "The Hill" and I usually honk twice.
The woman on Sublette Ave. and I usually give a little wave.
The grizzled Harley guy at Arsenal and Hampton and I nod (for the record, I think it's against his Harley code of ethics to even acknowledge that I'm alive, but it definitely adds to my street cred that he does :)).

Anyway, I've gotten into greeting patterns with people I see regularly. When I pass someone I don't know, usually we greet each other in our own manner. I usually give a little wave over the top of my left hand grip while still holding on to it. You know, kind of "I can appreciate you as a fellow scooterist, but I'm not lifting my hand from the grip so as not to die on my death rocket". It's actually quite a friendly gesture, but more understated than a full-on wave in the air or a double honk.

Once one engages in scooter greeting etiquette, there's a certain responsibility, as well as guilt that arises when forgoing a greeting. For instance, yesterday as I cruised home from Schnucks with my ingredients to make fruit tarts for a girl party at Mary's, a small scooter came towards me. It was two kids (by kids, I mean two men in their early 20's) that looked a little too cool for school to wave at a female wearing a helmet. Sidenote: There are no laws in Missouri requiring scooter drivers/riders to wear helmets, but 99% that I see do wear them...hello - death rocket?!?!. Ok, so they're coming towards me and at the last minute they give me the double honk. DAMN - misread that one. I managed to get my breezy left-handed wave at the last minute.

The moral of this story is that I felt guilty that they may have thought I didn't acknowledge them. I realize they probably didn't lose any sleep over getting punked out by a chick on a scooter. Yesterday, I resolved that I don't need to wait for other drivers to respond, I can take the initiative and be friendly, realizing they may not reciprocate.

And seriously, this story says way more about my daily horrors of self-inflicted and completely unwarranted guilt than anything having to do with a two-wheeled vehicle.

Shapely Secrets

2007-08-24T18:18:00.000-05:00

I've been all revved up the past few days to write about a new TV obsession (which is quite significant because I don't watch much TV), but I saw an infomercial I HAD to write about first. It's actually still on, but I felt myself trying to remember all the key components so I rushed in here.

Side note: It's important to my pride that it be known that I have never bought anything from an infomercial. The only exception was when I was little, like 6, I begged my parents to buy me the Frankie Valli silver greatest hits album (it was actually a collection of albums). I wanted it so bad, mostly for the song Big Girls Don't Cry. I was totally shocked when they bought it for me because I had never known them to buy things from TV...and they still don't. I think there was one other incident of TV infomercial buying when my equally-persuasive little sister simply could not live without a food dehydrator. My reasoning for why I needed this set of records must have been fairly compelling, and to this day I'm pretty touched when I think of them calling to order these records for a little kid.

Anywho, so the product at hand is a weight loss program that promises a loss in 1-2 dress sizes in 14 days. I'm expecting some little machine, or pills, or maybe even videos. Then this strangely shaped thin women in bad jeans comes on to explain what we all want (these are as she stated them): 1. Fast results 2. Weight loss as fast as possible 3. Weight loss with as little effort as possible. Let's ignore the redundancy of 1 and 2. Women in the ad came up one by one to tell their stories. There were tears and shocked shrieks as they realized they'd lost 9 inches from their thighs...or 1, 2 or 3 dress sizes! Amazing.

I chuckled a little, thinking of my sweaty sessions at the YMCA, and the heart-healthy benefits from said sessions. She continues by explaining that in 7 minutes a day, yes I said 7, I can lose two sizes with "motionless" exercise. I'm all for isometric exercises and all, in fact some of my weightlifting sets include them. But this program, it's got to be created by a genius! One can either stand up or sit down. There are specific activities done while still (they didn't show them on the program because I'm sure it would become all the rage and nobody would buy the tapes because they'd already swiped them from the program), and allegedly work 5 muscle groups at a time and work "muscle-to-muscle" (ok, I've been working out since I was quite young, I have no clue what that means).

Let's say this program does actually work. Is there any other benefit to these "exercises"? Perhaps increased tone, cardio, strength? Or maybe it will make me sleep better or feel less depressed? Even though these women got me really excited about their results - I think the Y is where I'll continue to go (wow, I'm really a sucker, I could be getting these same results in only 7 minutes a day).

My Feelings Today...

2007-08-20T16:08:00.000-05:00

Relieved
Michael Vick entered a plea deal today for illegal dogfighting and participating in executing at least 8 under performing dogs by hanging, drowning, and other means. I originally had Happy as my heading, but I don't feel exactly happy, maybe more like not super disappointed. I have this strange thing going on where I feel more empathy/sympathy for animals than humans. I guess with animals they're completely at our mercy in most cases. They want to be loved by their owners and people can kick them around and beat them and that animal still just wants to be played with and told that they're "a good boy/girl".

Crabby
I feel pretty crabby today. I think I'm keeping it in pretty well because a couple people at work asked if I'm tired, because I seem really quiet. This could also be translated into "wow, you're not as obnoxious as usual". Part of how I can tell I'm crabby is that every time I want to punch someone in the face I start shoving high calorie objects in my mouth...brownie, chips, twizzlers off "A's" desk, etc. Normally when I feel like this I go directly home, plant myself on the couch, and strategize the most efficient way to get butter down my gullet (butter is my stress thing...usually I'll sneak some butter on popcorn...not the usual fake butter substitute crap we buy...REAL BUTTER). I'm trying something different today, I'm going to the gym instead.

Terrified
Fred Thompson terrifies me. I guess not that he terrifies me, but that there's enough support of him and his beliefs in our country that he's considering entering the presidential race. His key points? He vows to do everything he can to ban abortion and get a Constitutional Amendment passed banning same sex marriage. Um, personally, I feel that we have bigger fish to fry in this country besides striving to take away rights of women and same sex couples. WAY BIGGER FISH...most of which is the wreckage of the current president that I dare not speak his name. I can tell that the current president isn't stellar because when I was talking with my dad last night, a proud republican, he didn't get upset when I called him "the devil" (the president, not my dad). So back to Thompson - I really have a hard time with his views and it makes me feel like we're never going to break free of judging and hate.

Excited
The Fiance and I are going kayaking in September. Nothing fancy, just going on the river for a day and staying in a cabin near Big Piney. We've both kayaked, but we want to do it more. If I were to include it in a 10-year plan, I would say that I'd like to have our own kayaks. I think we're both feeling a little old and tired. How is that possible - we're in our 30's? I think we just need to get out and do new things.

Relationships Are About Compromises

2007-07-28T23:32:00.000-05:00

This weekend, the Fiance and I both had our sights on movies we wanted to see. We agreed that Friday we would go to his, and Saturday to mine. That way, if the movie was horrible, at least the other person got to see the movie they had their heart set on.

The Fiance wanted to see Sunshine. This Sci-Fi flick is about our dying sun, and seven astronauts on a mission to "restart" it with a bomb, thus saving Earth. Cillian Murphy was the lead, and was pretty believable as a pale physicist. I enjoyed that they didn't do any character development. I usually I require it, but because the plot was about saving all of humanity, I didn't really need to know the backgrounds of each freakishly young scientist. The themes were appropriately set-up, the actors were fantastic, and the special effects were amazing. I thoroughly enjoyed this film, even after it took kind of an odd and creepy turn at the end. Things came around full circle and I left feeling The Fiance had spent his money well.

Tonight we saw mine - I Know Who Killed Me. WOW, that was a HORRIBLE movie. The Fiance could not have said it better than when he said, "Until tonight I thought Battlefield Earth was the worst movie of all time...now I know that it's not".

We had a strange encounter on the way in. The guy taking our ticket smirked and said inappropriately loud, "Oh, you're seeing I Know Who Killed Me?". When the movie was over, it was clear he had said this for his co-workers benefits. The theater employees screen the movies ahead of time, and he KNEW we were going into a train wreck. I guess he needed to share the pain of being forced to see it by mocking those of us who paid for the privilege.

The movie began abysmally. The acting was terrible and Julia Ormond had a mustache. Do I really need to say more? Yes, I do. This film was an opportunity for graphic torture and gratuitous stripper scenes with Lindsay Lohan, who was barely out of her teens (she was actually 19 when filming began). Her parents had to be super proud when they saw her gyrating on a pole and humping the floor in garters. This is really hard to write about because it would be easier in list form...there's just so much!

The torture scenes were made more disturbing than they already were by Ms. Lohan making her "oh my gosh, I'm in a lot of pain" sounds more like sex noises.
The torture tools were made out of blue glass, which broke when dropped on the floor, yet Lohan used it to hack off the killers hand in about 15 seconds.
Everything associated with the killer was blue...but then again so were the high school colors, and her boyfriend kept giving her these ugly blue roses. The Fiance said his mind kept thinking the killer was auditioning for the Blue Man Group. He was wearing a blue mask, but it wasn't obvious there was a mask until the end...so he just looked blue.
I don't have the stomach to go into this in detail, but there was some cheese ball story about twin stigmata...which, like most aspects of the storyline, was not adequately explored and explained (thank goodness, it would have made the movie longer).
Lohan's characters answer to her finger mysteriously falling off was to proclaim that "only rich people go to hospitals", duct taping it to a sink and then sewing it back on with thread.
The FBI agents were SOOOOO hokey - screaming at her during their investigation, "TELL US WHO CUT YOU!" (This after she had been tortured for three weeks and had her arm and leg cut off).
The FBI was unable to link very clear similarities between the teen aged murder victims, yet this 18 year-old hooker/stripper solved the case in about a week...and, incidentally, she also learned to walk on a prosthetic leg in one day (come on...please just put a different shirt on her so we don't realize how improbable it is for this to happen...but then again...she's also a crime-solving genius, perhaps she's skilled in learning to use prosthesis as well).
The Main character's alter ego, Dakota, tracked the original character by following the noises of an owl, who happened to sit in the same spot for 4 or 5 hours while the killer was digging, and then while the chick with a prosthetic leg tromped through the woods.
The title is I Know Who Killed Me...yet oddly enough, nobody actually got killed.

I can't do this any longer. It's late, and I don't want to waste any more time on this film than it deserves...oh, that would mean that when the ticket taker smirked we would have gotten our money back and scurried across the street to Oberweis for ice cream (which we did after the movie).

Some alternate titles to I Know Who Killed Me:

I Know Who Took My $17.50 (Lionsgate Entertainment)
I Know Who's Not Getting An Oscar (Lindsay Lohan)
I Know Who Watched The Last Screening Right Before She Relapsed (Lindsay Lohan)
I Know Who's Parents Exploit Her (Lindsay Lohan's)
I Know Who Feels Betrayed By The Film Industry (me, The Fiance, and the other 10 people who were in the theater with us)
I Know Who Doesn't Believe Blue Glass Can Cut Off A Hand (me)
I Know Who Really Wishes She'd Waxed Her Lip (Julia Ormond)

Sadly, the most exciting part of the film is when we saw the credits, and I gleefully proclaimed, "oooh, they had puppeteers!"

Celebrity Sex Tapes

2007-07-23T18:38:00.000-05:00

I was reading on a shameless celebrity gossip blog today that Kate Moss (supermodel) is scared that her recent ex, Pete Doherty (cracked out rocker and troll) is going to sell their sex tapes for money/drugs.

Here's my question - will there ever come a time that celebrities realize that if there is a tape of them having sex, it WILL find it's way to the public? Also, it's slightly repulsive that after a sex tape is released the "victim"/performer is catapulted to stardom.

A brief list of the celebrity sex tape "scandals" (again, I say this loosely because these scandals are often the best thing to ever happen to these B-listers).

Pamela Anderson and Bret Michaels

Rob Lowe and two 16-year-olds (gotta give the guy credit for making a comeback the way he did)

Pamela Lee and Tommy Lee (Pam will not learn her lesson. It's ironic that her future husband, Kid Rock, is on the list, but not with her)

R. Kelly and a 14-year-old (which did not catapult his career, but he also didn't do time)

Paris Hilton and some dude and a bunch of chicks

Colin Farrell and a random Playboy bunny

Kim Kardashian (not famous, but rich because she's friends with Paris and her dad is loaded) and Brandy's little brother

Kid Rock, some chicks, and Scott Stapp (the lead singer of a kinda Jesus rock band that beats his wife - clearly, an all around classy guy)

Tom Sizemore (but he probably leaked it and I don't think anyone really cares)

So yeah, some of those people were already stars, and some of the tapes were released with little fanfair. Setting aside the grossness of these tapes being great PR, I return to WHY would you make a sex tape if there was a risk of it being watched worldwide? Go have sex, or make a tape and then destroy it IMMEDIATELY if you really need to validate yourself by watching it.

Ok, I think that's all I needed to say.

Back In Action

2007-07-19T13:30:00.000-05:00

I'm back. I finished my class and have decided not to go to law school. It really came down to me not wanting to be a lawyer. The experience was hugely formative and has helped me gain a lot of confidence in my giant brain. :)

Anyway, a couple things on my mind...

I am distracted beyond reason over this NFL player that got busted for dogfighting. I've purposely not looked at any news stories and have accidentally seen a couple pictures that were quite upsetting. Seriously, who does this? I realize it's a huge business, but how could someone have a soul and treat an animal this way? I don't really have much more to say on this subject because it's too upsetting for me to delve into further, and that really doesn't make for an interesting blog entry.

I bought a scooter (or, as the fiance would say, a death rocket). I've always wanted one since I was a kid, and this law program made me appreciate life a lot more (ever want to work down a list of things you want to do in your lifetime? Law school will get you started because you have no life while there...a red scooter was on my list).

I finally got the final approval from the fiance the night before taking him to the airport for a 10 day conference/trip. I called him at 7 pm that night to let him know I had found one. His response: "I haven't been out of town for 12 hours and you've already managed to make this scooter thing happen!" Yeah, well, when I put my mind to something...

That's the exact model to the right. It's kind of funny, I met a new neighbor today and he asked about the scooter. He said he noticed I'd gotten one because I was bent over working on it (probably the back storage compartment installation. I usually don't read directions and am quite successful, but this thing was impossible...I spent an hour on my own, then 15 minutes following the manual). He was driving with his wife and said out loud, "Niiice". She thought he was referring to me bent over my scooter...but then he explained he was talking about the shiny red bike. Yeah, can't wait to meet her.

My Life With the Cave and the Cool Kids

2007-06-24T21:03:00.001-05:00

So yeah, this law school program is kicking my ass a little - as is evident by my lack of posts. I was very concerned initially that I wouldn't have any friends and wouldn't find a study group. As luck would have it, I met an awesome study partner, C, and have been grateful after realizing the other jackasses I could have ended up with (that is in no way to minimize the awesomeness of C...just to accentuate the full extent of some of the jackasses). Seriously, I think most people in there think that lawyers are supposed to argue all the time. Um, yeah, they actually do more writing than anything. Here are a few highlights...(I really don't have time to highlight the jackasses...that will have to be in a separate post...there's just too much to say).

The Cave
The Law School at Saint Louis University is absolutely arctic. At times, it's so cold that C and I can see each others hair blowing from the vents above our heads. We attempted to do homework in the student lounge and atrium...too cold. We wandered over to the Business School. We walked around, in all honesty, looking for snacks, but found a wonderful place to work. "Breakout Rooms" and they're called, are glorious rooms for multiple people that have thermostats and windows. When all else fails and we're still too cold, you know those windows are opened!

The cave was also necessary because we were being stalked by a couple people hoping to join our study group. We're not snobs...but we can't let anyone in that doesn't get it equal to or more than us. And we're a little snobby, but mostly because we're older than most of the class (The Fiance calls us Mean Girls...we are not mean, just not joiners).

The "Cool Kids"
When we first started, it was unclear as to who would hang with who. After the first week, a couple of the kind of attractive hipsters began going to lunch together and walking back to the Law school with their Arby's cups - giggling and looking cool. C and I were leaving our cave one day...looking at the cool kids walking from the other direction, I said,

"C, I think those are the cool kids...and I think we're the nerds."

C replies, "yeah, I think you're right...and I'm not usually a nerd."

I respond, "Yeah, me not so much either...and YOU WERE A DANCE MAJOR!"

C, "I KNOW!"

Me, "Oh well, at least we're getting our homework done."

C, "True, I'm ok being a nerd."

Side note: To be certain, let's do a little nerd checklist:
yes - Early to class
yes - Go to professors office to discuss questions
yes - Pack our lunches (this should count twice for me because I have a pink anime lunchbox)
yes - Stay at school between classes and until 6 pm
yes - Take notes old school...not on laptops
yes - use backpacks, not roll-y things
yes - Made flashcards
yes - Skipped Beyonce concert (not that I would have gone EVER, but the cool kids did - ON A SCHOOL NIGHT!)
yes - Judged the cool kids for seeing Beyonce on a school night
Yep - all signs point to nerd

The next day, two of the cool boys (because the cool girls want nothing to do with girls that might be construed as at all hot...and we are) came up to us after class. We could call them "Cocky-Gym-Teacher-Who-Wants-To-Be-An-Athletic-Agent" and "Cool-San-Diego-Kid-With-His-Collar-Up-That-Smokes", but we'll stick with V and S.

S, "Hey guys, we've been meaning to talk to you for a few days, but you always scurry off and disappear after class."

V, "Yeah, where do you go anyway?"

Me, "The business building (being as vague about geographics as possible, lest they attempt to join our study group by stalking us...a tactic S attempted - and FAILED at!), the rooms are temperature controlled so we don't freeze like in the business building."

S, "Ahh, some sort of study cave."

C, "Sort of (I could tell she was hesitant to talk about it further...again, our study group is full).

Anyway, we chat for 15 minutes or so. The most important highlight is that they thought we were their ages (25)...and we're 29 and 32. And yes, it must always be about me being thought younger...an ongoing theme on this blog.

Anyway, this interaction gave us validation that we could be cool kids AND nerds. And seriously, as much as we make fun of the cool kids behind their backs sometimes, they were really very nice.

Evil Intent

2007-06-01T20:51:00.001-05:00

This photo needs very little explanation. Basically, I dropped an egg, liked how it looked, and took a picture. At the last moment, the kitten slid into view.

Guest Blogger: My Story of an Almost Carjacking

2007-05-25T16:09:00.000-05:00

A friend sent me this story of an uncomfortable interaction with a gentleman that clearly wanted his car. Being parked outside a bath house (doing outreach for work...not as a patron) can be creepy enough - but this was certain to increase ones blood pressure. I found his tale quite entertaining, so I asked permission to post it as a guest blog. His name is Ian, and he's fabulous...and also an engaging writer...and a snappy dresser...and may possibly have the greatest laugh I have ever heard EVER!

-------------------

I tested two people at the bathhouse, and nearly got carjacked. Seriously. I was sitting in my car on the street alongside The Club, before going inside. I was talking to Roger on my cell phone.

An old burgundy Honda pulled alongside my car, coming from the opposite direction my car was pointed. The driver stopped in the middle of the street. I glanced over at him, and he pointed at me, then to himself and nodded his head. I know there’s been drug activity going on in that area, so I thought he thought I was some kind of dealer. I made mention to Roger on the phone of the oddity, then continued on with my merry little conversation, but keeping a good eye on my mirrors.

I saw a thirty-something African American guy get out of his car and cross the back of mine. I gave Roger details as the event unfolded. The man then walked up to my passenger side and tried the handle. I’m always safe, so it was locked.

“What’s goin’ on?!” I shouted. Roger fell silent on the other end of the phone.

“Hey man, let me in. Roll down the window, I don’t want to shout.” The man was wearing a white wife-beater, jeans, and had a simple gold crucifix around his neck.

“No!” I responded, “What’s goin’ on?”

He explained something about working for a ministry, that he’s from Alton, some lady had died, and some “probably a drug dealer” had wrecked into the side of his car. He said MoDOT had come out and fixed something or other. I had no idea where he was going with the story. It wasn’t getting anywhere fast.

“What do you want?” I asked aggressively.

The man threw up his arms in disgust and crossed the front of my car and approached my window. I rolled down the window a hair. He again explained the story about the ministry, Alton, dead woman, car accident. I pointed him to the direction of The Club entrance. He said, “I did that. They kicked me out. No solicitating.”

“Well, what are you soliciting?” I asked, finally the story was getting somewhere.

“I need help for gas.”

“I’m working in there tonight for a non-profit.” I replied, hoping that whatever belief he had would be dispelled as to why I was sitting alone in my car, cell phone in hand, in this sketchy neighborhood.

He stammered a moment, then said, “I work for a non-profit, too.” The man was further hoping to lure me into the details of his story.

“Well, then you understand…I don’t have any money.”

“A dollar?”

“Nope, sorry.”

The man was clearly upset. He hurried across the street, got into his beat up jalopy, and sped off. After his taillights disappeared into the night, I moved my car into the parking lot of The Club. Roger was concerned. He told me I should be careful who I talk to…but HELLO…he tried to get into my car!!

Once inside the establishment, I was still shaken. I reported what had happened to the staff, and they acknowledged that a man fitting the description had come in earlier and they turned him away.

--------------

Quick Question: How did he drive away if he needed money for gas? And on what planet do preppy white guys sell drugs in sketchy neighborhoods?

The Boyfriend Is No More

2007-05-15T09:31:00.000-05:00

Every relationship comes to a point where there needs to be a change, and this post is to mourn the loss of The Boyfriend...because he's now THE FIANCE! Did I have you fooled for at least a tiny moment? Did you think we'd broken up? No, just changing his title.

Last Friday The Fiance called to see if I wanted to leave after work and just drive for the weekend. We didn't have a plan, or even a route for that matter. We headed South on 55 and decided to turn off at Pevely. Somewhere, we're not sure exactly where, we stopped at a church carnival - you know, deathtrap rides operated by drunk/high roadies. We got on "The Swinger" and he asked if I'd marry him right as the swings started. I do want to mention that his voice was about two octaves higher than usual, and only got higher as I sought clarity. I was confused about what he was saying and asked, "what?!?" immediately following his proposal. I quickly understood the fear in his eyes and said yes.

Here are some photos from the trip:

Here's a kind of blurry photo of "The Swinger".

We ate lunch on the second day of our trip at this cafe. The sign made us giggle. Who makes the sandwiches? Hos

I fear for this town in case of fire.

This is where we stayed on Saturday night. It sits on a hill overlooking an equine facility and the wooded rolling hills of Eminence, MO. Of eleven rooms, we were the only people staying here...not even the owner was there! She told us a group of cowboys had checked out that day...that could have been a rowdy night!

The front porch of the lodge...really, it was the biggest selling point.

The Fiance in our room - it was "Gone With the Wind" inspired...this was by far the largest concentration of crushed velvet I had ever seen.

Timmy the Turtle - We stopped so The Fiance could get him off the highway. Sadly, I'm sure the 97 other turtles on the road may not have made it...although they do move much faster than I expected.

The STL is Redeeming Itself

2007-05-15T09:21:00.000-05:00

For the second year in the row, St. Louis drivers are being noticed for their courteous vehicular maneuverings and low road rage incidents.

The most courteous drivers can be found in Portland, Oregon; Pittsburgh; the Seattle-Tacoma area; St. Louis; and Dallas-Fort Worth, the survey found.

Portland drivers were the least likely to see other motorists tailgating on the roadways, and St. Louis motorists were the least likely to swear at another driver, according to the survey.
-www.cnn.com

I wasn't hugely surprised about the courteous drivers (we are, after all, in the Midwest), but I'd like to see stats on accidents. Perhaps all this friendliness is causing drivers to not pay attention. I've had three fairly serious accidents in the ten years I've been here (of which none were my fault...I felt it was important to add that).

News Update: This Just In...

2007-05-10T16:49:00.000-05:00

This, my friends, is a very true story.

A co-worker came in to update me on a client that I had counseled and tested. He chuckled a little before saying, "Yeah, I asked him who tested him and he said a young lady in her mid-twenties". Did I mention this was an attractive tyke of 23-years old (he's probably attractive to some...if you're into that all-American type. I mean, he's no sexy scientist or anything like that!).

Yeah, mid-twenties.

I Cannot Believe She Yelled At Me

2007-05-09T13:05:00.000-05:00

I wrote recently about the "old ladies gone wild" situation at the YMCA...well, I now have a middle-aged woman gone CRAZY!! (and by the way, I find it strange that many of my blog post ideas are coming from the Y).

So I'd just gotten done swimming and a woman walks up and asks kind of conversationally if I had gotten there after her, because she's a little surprised that her lock is on a locker next to another occupied locker. I kind of chuckle and say, "yeah, sorry, I didn't even notice", and continue getting ready. Keep in mind, this whole interaction happens whilst we are both unclad.

Lady: "You know, I've spent too much money on physical therapy for this!"

Me: Staring at her, I nervously laugh a little and lamely say, "yeah". I have no idea what she's talking about.

Lady: "It's NOT funny, and I really don't want to talk about it."

She starts to angrily take her stuff out of the locker, slamming it down on the locker room bench, all the while mumbling about how many hours in the pool and thousands of dollars she's spent fixing her back. I'm still getting ready, mostly trying to get some clothes on because she's totally freaking me out and I'm uncertain if I'm going to have to defend myself or not...and if so, I'd prefer to be clothed.

Lady: "Because of you thoughtlessly using the locker next to mine, I've now hurt my back again."

Me: "No, because you were unwilling to ask for help you hurt your back again. And now, you need to stop talking to me. I did nothing to you, and I want nothing more to do with you".

Lady: "Yeah, easy for you to say when you have your little spot staked out, and I'm over here with a hurt back. One would think that any reasonable person would not use a locker next to another one that's in use. It's rude and inconsiderate".

Me: "I've used this locker every day for months. Now walk away". I put my hand up dismissively.

The lady takes a couple minutes getting dressed and puts on her fanny pack (told you she was crazy). I'm purposely getting ready leisurely so she doesn't think she's intimidated me at all.

Lady: "Excuse me, could I please look, or could you please look to see if there's anything else in the locker".

I open the locker, peep inside, slam it and look squarely at her, "There's nothing in it".

Note: The contents of this post have been edited in length and clarity. There were many mumblings and some comments that were omitted...mostly because I don't remember what they were, and I think what I wrote pretty fairly reflects the event. Oddly, I had intended to write about how I'm more antisocial with people that I don't know, but now this post will serve to explain WHY I am reserved.

Worst(and by worst, I mean the most disastrous).Morning.Ever

2007-05-04T10:29:00.000-05:00

Ever had one of those days where by about 8:30 you're ready to call it a day? Like there's been so many tiny things that go horribly wrong that anything bigger may make it impossible to ever venture from the comfort of your bed ever again? I had one of those mornings today. Well, maybe not as bad as the previous sentences imply...but there was a series of quite unfortunate events that caused me a certain amount of discomfort. And by discomfort, I mean that I'm being kind of a big baby and am beginning to feel guilty for writing that when there's hunger and war in the world that does not personally affect me.

Here's a rough time line:
6:15 Alarm sounds and Tiny Dancer (our kitten, sometimes known as Nova...but usually Tiny Dancer or Tiiiiiineee!) begins our morning ritual of him licking my face so that I'll play with him.

6:28 I am no closer to getting up than I was at 6:15, and guilt is starting to set in.

6:47 I realize if I'm going to make it to the gym, I MUST get up immediately.

7:03 Ok, so the treadmill and weights are out of the question now.

7:08 I drag myself out of bed (barely) and get dressed to go for a walk, I open the door and - no joke - it begins pouring rain. I lie back down.

7:24 I put on my swimsuit and leave for the YMCA pool. This is outrageously late for me to be leaving.

7:45 As I walk into the pool area, I get the vague sense that I may not know where I put my glasses. I consider going back to my locker to ease the anxiety, and then decide to figure it out later.

8:10 I finish my pathetic swim. Normally I swim 36 lengths in 30 minutes...this morning I swam 20 lengths in 25 minutes....and they were in sad, sad form.

8:30 After finding my glasses on THE FLOOR OF THE YMCA SHOWERS - GROSS, I go back to my locker to get ready for work. I figure I have just enough time to make it to work on time.

8:31 I sadly realize that, not only did I pack "skinny jeans" that will be comfortable and flattering if I lose approximately 7 pounds, but I've ALSO FORGOTTEN MY BRA AND UNDERWEAR!

8:31 - 8:37 I sit with my elbows on my knees to ponder my options.
Option 1: Throw on my velour track suit (The Boyfriend will giggle at that reference. He hates my velour track suit...but I find it perfect to throw over my swim suit) and go 1/2 mile back home?
Option 2: Go to work sans appropriate undergarments?
Option 3: Call in sick and crawl back into bed (the most appealing option at this point)?

8:38 I look around to see if any one's watching and I quickly put on my clothes without any bra and underwear (the bra is really just a gesture to show that I went through some sort of puberty process...I sometimes choose not to wear one...but the underwear are kind of non-negotiables for me).

9:11 I stroll into work a tiny bit later than I would have liked.

10:42 And now, I sit at my desk. I have gotten a couple busy work, end-of-the-week-wrap-up-type tasks done...but this day has a distinctly unproductive feel. I'll be able to consider it a day that I deserve my salary as long as I continue to get a series of small things done.

Oh, right, it's raining and I ran out of hair gel, so I have really bad hair as well.

St. Louis in the Top 10!

2007-05-02T10:27:00.000-05:00

St. Louis has yet another great distinction in our nation - the 10th most poluted city in America. Isn't it bad enough that we topped the list as the countries most violent urban area with more than 250,000 people, we're #1 for Chlamydia rates, #3 for gonorrhea, and #5 for syphilis? Just let us have some clean air already!

Although I have to sheepishly admit that this gives me a lot of hope for the future (I should say hope for MY future, which is kind of rude). Since moving to St. Louis my entire respiratory health has gone to crap. It wasn't until I moved here that I was diagnosed with asthma and began enjoying yearly bouts of broncitis/pneumonia. I didn't join the ranks of allergy sufferers until my introduction to this great city as well. What does this mean? It htink it means that if I get my tail out of here I may escape some of these impediments. That would rock!

And I'm really curious as to how Chicago and New York escaped this list.

The most polluted U.S. urban areas by year-round particle
pollution:
1: Los Angeles-Long Beach-Riverside, California
2: Pittsburgh-New Castle, Pennsylvania
3: Bakersfield, California
4: Birmingham-Hoover-Cullman, Alabama
5: Detroit-Warren-Flint, Michigan
6: Cleveland-Akron-Elyria, Ohio
7: Visalia-Porterville, California
8: Cincinnati-Middletown-Wilmington, Ohio, Kentucky, Indiana
9: Indianapolis-Anderson-Columbus, Indiana
10: St. Louis-St. Charles-Farmington, Missouri

Charlie's Angels Unite For a Second Year

2007-04-30T10:05:00.000-05:00

For the second year, Charlie's Angels are walking in the Great Strides walk to support the Cystic Fibrosis Foundation of St. Louis. Why do I raise money and walk in this event? (In case you don't care why I participate, wish to stop reading this post, and just want to make a donation, please click the post title above. It will take you to my donations page).

1. See picture to the right - how could I NOT participate knowing that Charlie has this disease, a disease whose research is underfunded. In the last 10 years the life expectancy for a CF kid DOUBLED with the limited research funding they had. Could you imagine if they had more money?

2. It's really fun. There's something about participating as a team that makes me feel very accepted. We all had matching t-shirts and there were a lot of us...it alleviates some of that "picked last in gym class" trauma.

3. The Cystic Fibrosis Foundation has extremely low administrative costs. Of each dollar donated, $.90 of it is used for programming. Working at a non-profit (which also boasts low admin expenses) I appreciate knowing my money will be put to good use.

4. The staff and volunteers at the CF Foundation are FREAKISHLY nice. Working for a non-profit can feel very thankless at times - these people are amazing. Someone calls each walker the day before the race to thank them for their participation, ask if they need anything, and give a little pep talk. Also, they make donors feel good about their donation (very important in getting repeat donations). My mother hit a wrong button (because my email was kind of vague and confusing) and I didn't get credit for my parents donation. I emailed the CF Foundation asking if they could correct it and it was done within an hour - accompanied by a gracious email thanking us for everything and offering assistance in the future.

Alright, so those are my reasons for supporting the CF Foundation. If only you could find it in your hearts to find reasons to support me in my efforts. :) Do I need to post a cute picture of me? I could, and I will if I have to!

What Is This World Coming To?!?!

2007-04-29T10:29:00.000-05:00

Some of you may know that I joined the South City Family YMCA a couple months ago in an effort to rejuvenate my workout routines. Many aspects drew me to this facility - the pool, the location (if it were any closer they would have to pay rent to be in our yard)...and of course, the old people. I LOVE old people. I love being around them, flirting with old men, waving to my pal Esther as I enter the pool and she's leaving, etc. But at some point, these woman lost complete control.

There's an unwritten rule (in my opinion) that when someone is naked, or near naked, in the locker room it's bad form to initiate a conversation. As I was getting ready after my swim last week, an old lady energetically trots by and inquires about my underwear.

"Are those things comfortable - they certain don't look like it" - she says...AND PROCEEDS TO SNAP THE WASTE BAND OF MY UNDERWEAR!

If conversation is awkward in varying states of being disrobed, touching is completely out of the question.

My take: These women are reverting back to their youthful selves. I have never seen people act this way, barring teenage girls. They prance around the locker room naked, giggle, compare days, talk about lotions and hairstyles they like or don't like...and then there's the old man. There is one, rather handsome, 80-year+ old man that is the only man in their water aerobics class. This man is usually swimming fast laps of freestyle when I get there for my measly 36 laps and is still swimming when I leave. Usually as I walk out of the Y, I look into the pool area. He'll be lined up for a water aerobics class with 30-35 elderly ladies in their swim caps and skirted swimsuits. He bobs around, working the group. He doesn't stay in one place, but mingles amongst his lady friends. And that is where the whole "old ladies gone wild" started, in my opinion.

Ok, so I got off on kind of a tangent. This probably could have been two posts - one about the raucous old ladies in the locker room, and one about the "socially active" old man.

Even though I felt slightly violated at the underwear snap, it also felt good to be accepted. I love that these women are there every day - without fail. They have a recreational activity that makes them feel good about themselves and allows them to make friends and interact with them.

I believe I would continue going there even if one of the old ladies slapped my bare ass...mostly because I love to see them happy (and I guess I'm willing to sacrifice my own comfort for that? Weird.)

Her Hate Could Only Keep Her Around For So Long...

2007-04-29T10:14:00.000-05:00

I couldn't bring myself to write about this last weekend. We had to have Luna, our sassy diva old lady, put to sleep last Saturday. I didn't have any idea how painful it would be. We had a mobile vet come to our house, so we felt a little better knowing she felt at home during the procedure. The vet was extremely caring and made all the difference.

We let her have whatever last day she chose. We locked the boys downstairs (the boy cats - not kids) and she had the run of the house without a kitten assaulting her all day. We fed her turkey and sardines, and The Boyfriend took a nap with her (oh the things he'll do for the happiness of our cats...I'm sure that nap was such an inconvenience).

After everything was done with the vet, The Boyfriend buried her in the back yard about 3 feet deep and put our concrete pagoda on top. Truly, though she was sometimes pure evil and the most self-centered creature you could ever IMAGINE, we'll never find a cat like her again. She loved us SO much, and her greatest joy was being as close as possible (even if that meant waking up in the middle of the night with a 3 pound cat sitting on our chest, her face 2 inches from ours - purring loudly).

As time went by, our 17-year-old duchess slowly withered away - barely recognizable as the cruel alpha cat who had once ruled the boys with an iron paw. As her health got worse, we shuddered to think of her having a painful decline right after we left for work, only to find her when we got home 8 hours later. We feel comforted in the fact that she had an amazing life, and her death was dignified and quick.

Moondog Cured My Bloggers Block

2007-04-18T11:37:00.000-05:00

I've had serious blogger's block for AWHILE. I have 3 or 4 partially written posts saved, but I haven't published any of them. The deal with blogging is that when you go for a really long period of time without a peep, it becomes kind of like when you're slightly estranged from a friend, and you keep meaning to call...but you never do...and then it seems like it's been too long and you just write the whole thing off. Maybe other people don't have that happen, but that's how I feel right now. I have the same amount of interesting things going on in my life, but my written accounts don't seem very post-worthy. If I could just break the seal and post something...I know I would have a glorious comeback.

And then last Saturday night happened. I'd heard through the grapevine about a pro wrestling organization in town. The Boyfriend and I are always looking for new and "different" things to do on the weekend - so we headed down to the South Broadway Athletic Club.

We entered the club carrying fancy-pants coffees, fulling expecting to have to toss them. The raspy-voiced man at the door, holding a cigarette, looked at me like I was crazy, as if wondering what sort of establishment would make you throw away a drink you wanted to take in with you (yeah, EVERYPLACE). We gave him our $8.00 and gratefully walked in with our coffees in hand. We noticed some seats had names written in black Sharpie - "The Lumberjacks", "Shaft", "Moondog", etc. They were the floor seats, nice and close...and there happened to be a couple seats in that section that weren't reserved just begging for us to occupy them.

We sat there, basking in one of the most amazing opportunities to people watch that we've encountered in quite a while. A guest referee was introduced, and the show began (but not before I had incredulously paid a total of $2.00 for both a bottled water and a box of popcorn).

You may be picturing WWF-type wrestling, and that's exactly what we got, but on a smaller scale, with lots of smoking, and homemade costumes. There's not enough time in the world for me to tell you everything that happened, so let's highlight Moondog Rover, from the swamps of Louisiana (he's from St. Louis...but the whole swamp thing works for him).

To set this up, this guy looks just like Santa Claus. That's all I can really say - same size, same beard, same hair...Santa. When he came out, he was wearing a pair of cut-off jean shorts that were tied with a piece of rope and hanging dangerously low. Oh yeah, he also had an enormous dog bone.

He was wrestling a little guy whose gimmick was I guess just being really muscular and not unattractive (too muscular in my opinion...but that's just me...although The Boyfriend made a couple comments indicating he didn't believe me when I said it). They threw each other about, Moondog with a crazed grin and look in his eye. To our left, we heard a woman in her 60's start yelling.

"Bite 'im! Bite 'im Moondog!! Get 'im!"

We later realized this was Mrs. Moondog, and she was aggressively cheering her man on (I'd like to think that The Boyfriend would be that supportive if I were a pro wrestler). Her chanting became frenzied as he closed the deal. The pretty boy in a speedo was on his back underneath Moondog's hulking stomach. The victor stood up, pretended to beat the loser with his bone, lifted his leg over his opponent in mock urination, and began to bark.

He barked all the way out of the ring.

We have already decided to go back next month.

A Cry For Help...

2007-03-15T15:36:00.000-05:00

Over our bagged lunches one day, discussion broke out about Lent and what everyone was giving up. Responses were varied (I mentioned that if I were pressed on the issue, I would give up abstinence from drinking alcohol...SO DON'T PRESS ME!). Anyway, 'A' proudly exclaimed that she was giving up chocolate and non-diet Coke.

She's really been doing so well. What transpired today came out of nowhere - completely unpredictable.

I heard her mumbling at the vending machine about an hour ago, "There's nothing in here...need a snack".

Suddenly, she was in my doorway, a shadowy figure with an object in a silver wrapper poised by her mouth.

"Forgive me Lord, for I have sinned". The 3 Musketeers inched towards her mouth.

Forgetting her vow of abstinence from chocolate, I said supportingly, "Oh, there's less calories in those than many...wait, you're not supposed to...".

I lunged out of my chair and towards her as she spun on her heels and ran down the hall, through the reception area, and towards the safety of her office. She ran much faster than I expected for someone with legs half the length of mine...but her running was also fueled with the need for chocolate.

She swung around and tucked the sinful treat down the front of her shirt.

"'A', seriously, you've done so well. Don't do it now".

"Carolyn, I really need it and there isn't much in the vending machine".

"Ok, I understand, I have some Girlscout cookies in my car and I'll go get them...just hand over the 3 Musketeers."

"What kind of Girlscout cookies? Are they chocolate?"

"No, they're shortbread and I could have them up here in a couple minutes"

As a side note: I REALLY wanted to get those cookies out of my car so I could stop binging on them on my way to and from work. I may live only two miles away, but I can cram a whole lot of short breads in my mouth on that seven minute drive.

Back to the story: She gingerly handed over the candy bar and I locked it in my office. She went down to my car with me and ate a few cookies on the way back up. I told her to put the remaining cookies in her desk for the next time her addiction reared it's ugly head. She sent an email a couple minutes ago to thank me for saving her soul, but also to tell me that though she's not anywhere near satiated, she realized she would have felt really guilty if she had given in.

In any case, disaster was averted (although for someone who says she's let go of Catholic guilt, I'm not sure how much guilt she would have actually felt about eating a candy car). And as I write this post, I'm still savoring the sweet taste of chocolate and nougat. Man, that 3 Musketeers was DELICIOUS!

Gray

2007-03-09T15:43:00.000-06:00

I'm not in a bad mood, but I'm certainly not in a good mood. You ever have one of those days where an issue brought about by someone else weighs on you and causes you to question your self-worth? I wish I were a stronger person so that it didn't happen, but I'm not - I care what people think about me, whether I agree with them or not.

There are a couple things that have helped me crawl out of the funk. Last night I was completely heart-broken. I was like lying-in-bed-at-8:00-and-ready-for-bed heartbroken. The Boyfriend was fantastic in listening to me without trying to fix the issue (I can appreciate a good shoulder to cry on every now and then). We unanimously agreed that I needed to call M and get her involved. I called her and the grayness began to thin. Her passionate belief in my value as a human allowed a complete turnaround in my evening. Her humorous and supportive emails throughout the day today gave me a booster shot of positive energy.

This goes without saying...but my posse of my mom and sister were on call and prepared for action. I probably talked to them more in the last two days than in a typical week. There's just something about female relatives to make you feel like you have a "crew". Who'd have thought that I'd have a crew?

What's something else that helped throughout the day? Downloading fonts. Yeah, that's right, I'm a hoarder of fonts. I went to this site with one hundred million (probably less than that, but I could never work through all they have) awesome fonts and picked out a dozen or so and saved them to my computer. I've done this before with life-altering results. I get the excitement of designing something and when I go to select a font I'm like, "Oh my goodness...there are new fonts in here!". I'm a geek (but this font thing is a true story...and you too can become a fontophile by going to www.dafont.com).

The third thing that's made me feel more pink or red than gray is that fact that I have amazing people in my life. A phone call from C in the middle of the afternoon just to chat and make plans to meet for dinner. I feel good that he picked me to share 15 minutes of his day with. He then picked AT LEAST an hour more to eat with me on Sunday. That's some investment, folks.

I'm not feeling so heartbroken today. I'm not as alone as I thought I was yesterday. I have people I can go to and they love me even though I'm flawed (I don't say that in a self-deprecating way...you're flawed too!).

An Actual Conversation

2007-02-28T14:08:00.000-06:00

This conversation took place this morning on my way up the elevator at work. It's just enough floors (7) that people try to make awkward conversation.

Me: Minding my own business, I smile and say hello when the usual delivery guy gets in on the 2nd floor. "Hello, how are you?"

Guy: "I'd be a lot better if Britney would disappear and they'd get Anna Nicole's body in the ground already. I'm gettin' a little tired of hearing about it constantly...it's become like a poison."

Me: I ponder a moment, evaluating the irony. "Do you find it at all ironic that you just brought it up and poisoned me with the very thing that you find so toxic?"

Guy: "Yeah, sorry..."

Me: "Ok then, I'll see you tomorrow...hang in there." Smile.

Oh Yes, He's Much More Than a Scientist...

2007-02-27T12:37:00.000-06:00

The Boyfriend announced to me several months before Valentine's Day that he was making something for me for the occasion. With my birthday being the day AFTER Valentine's Day, he understands my deep seated hatred for the "multi-gift" (for example - one CD to cover both occasions, flowers with a card that says Happy B-day AND will you be my Valentine...to which I would reply an emphatic "no"). Don't get me wrong, I don't expect an elaborate display, but even a nice card and flowers for V-day, and then a gift for my birthday that anyone at any other time of year would receive.

Back to the project. I was curious and a little apprehensive about this creative endeavor - especially since it was being made of polymer clay - something he had never worked with before. I've always known he was creative, but I didn't have any tangible evidence.

I watched his process as he purchased a toaster oven, texturizing equipment, a pasta press, clay, dyes, etc. I also noticed bags from places such as Art Mart and Hobby Lobby making their way into the house. What WAS this crazy man of science doing in our basement?!?!

The outcome was amazing. I'm not sure why, but I cried when he gave it to me. Maybe because it was so beautiful, or maybe because it looks like something I would love - and he designed and created the entire thing.

Project Description: It's a book made of tablets of polymer clay that's been dyed to resemble jade. The book is bound with rope and can be added to in the future.

The first photo is the cover. First he bought a stamp of a Mulan poem. He stamped the clay (he says it took him sandwiching the clay with metal and standing on it), painted the tablet with red acrylic paint, then wiped off the extra, which left only the paint in the characters.

The second photo is of the inside. The left pictures The Boyfriend and his father washing his first dog in a garbage can, the right is me and my dad carving a pumpkin (wasn't my dad cute?). My mom and sister both knew about the gift because he had to contact my mom to get the picture. I thought it was strange that she called and asked for his phone number, but I didn't connect what he was making and my mom at the time.

The third photo is the back and is stamped with bamboo branches.

These pictures really don't do this project justice. It's so beautiful and I was very touched that he put that much work into it.

I felt a little inadequate giving him a duct tape wallet that I'd made (although to be fair to - he told me he wanted one, and he was really excited that it was hand made...but I did buy one from thinkgeek.com just in case my version didn't work out).

Ickiest.Injury.Ever

2007-02-19T09:41:00.000-06:00

Not sure how many swimmers are out there (I know my mom and dad are among them). But you know how the bottom of the pool is rough? I was swimming yesterday and scraped my toenail on the bottom of the pool. I've scraped the top of my FOOT before (badly enough that it scabbed over and was pretty painful), but the toenail is a totally different beast.

I had no clue that the toenail is so thin. This scrape went all the through the nail and the skin under the toenail was bleeding.

This may not seem like a serious injury...but it's totally grossing me out. As long as I don't think about it I'm fine - but when I wiggle my toe and it throbs I get grossed out all over again.

I realize this topic is strange for a blog entry, but I can't get it off my mind. Every time I think of the scraped hole in my toenail, all my toes curl, and then my toe throbs and the vicious circle of me gasping "ewww, Ewww, EWWWWW!" begins once again.

Bob

2007-02-07T08:00:00.000-06:00

My best friends dad passed away last week. It's really hard to wrap my mind around because I can't imagine what it would feel like to lose my father.

Anyway, M (my friend, pictured at right with her dad at her wedding in Jamaica last year) has been shuttling back and forth from Colorado to take care of Bob. She made sacrifices in her relationships, school, and her job to be a guest in someone elses home and be there if he needed her.

I realize this wasn't an easy thing to do, but I feel like it accomplished one of the most important things when talking about losing a loved one. When I spoke with her she said she had no regrets. That's probably the greatest outcome from this sad situation. She got to be there for him, say everything she needed, and he knew she was there.

Anyway, I felt fortunate to have met and hung out with Bob. He was intimidating at first (the whole rough biker thing), but as soon as he started talking he had this really gentle nature about him. He was comfortable to be around, extremely funny, and would do anything for anybody.

M says she's doing fine (this has been coming for 5 months), but she'll feel it later. Luckily she has a lot of people here who can be there for her when that happens.

More Good News

2007-02-05T11:04:00.000-06:00

I didn't actually think this was possible, but I was accepted into the Summer Institute at Saint Louis University School of Law.

The Summer Institute is actually what I wanted to get into. It's a seven week session with two first year law classes. Twenty-five perspective students with rural/urban educations or learning disabilities are admitted. We have to pass both classes and then we're accepted into the Fall 2007 class. Why the Summer Institute? Well, some of us out here (me) have prior academic issues, such as:
1. ADD/ADHD (which caused 2)
2. Light at best undergrad attendance/studying (which led to 3)
3. Less than desirable GPA (3.2) (which had NOTHING to do with 4)
4. Lower LSAT score than is considered stellar (151)

I took a test prep class and tried really hard to do my best on the LSAT. I felt pretty deflated when I came back in the 49th percentile. I read about the Summer Institute and realized there is a chance I can go to law school (and SLU is no slouch when it comes to ranking...it went up a whole tier last year - it's now tier 2!). I wrote an essay explaining why they should let me into their school, why they would benefit, and why I deserve this chance.

This program is not completely for their advantage. I mean, yes, they get to see if I'm someone that would bring value to their program, but I also get to see if I even want to study law. I may start this course and realize it's not for me - and this way I won't be out a whole semesters tuition. I also think it's fabulous to allow intelligent people whose grades/test scores aren't indicative of their academic aptitude a chance to prove they're more than a standardized test score. I'm smart, but I need this opportunity to see if I can hack some really hard core studying. If I can't pass these two classes then I shouldn't be in law school.

Maybe if I'm feeling really saucy I'll post my essay.

I've Been Keeping A Secret

2007-01-29T18:47:00.000-06:00

I didn't feel like mentioning this until now, but my sister had been pregnant for the previous 9 months and had a baby last Friday!

See, I can be sneaky sneaky (not that anyone has ever accused me of NOT being sneaky).

Her name is Hailey Marie and she's GORGEOUS. I don't think all babies are cute, but she really is adorable, and I feel very flattered that her middle name is Marie - I can only assume it's to honor me, her aunt (alright, fine, my mother and sister also have Marie as a middle name).

And let me say, this little girl is very lucky...and not just because she has fantastic parents (and aunt)...she dodged a MAJOR bullet. Her mother, my sister - seriously - looked like a gremlin when she was born. Hairy, and I mean hairy...like on her ears. I feel that I can say this because she turned out to be a freakishly attractive person (without an above average amount of hair). She just had a rough newborn stage. To this day, I feel safe saying that she was the most beautiful toddler I'd ever seen.

Anyway, I'm glad I finally had an appropriate time to mention my sister being a hairy baby.

I'm flying to see my sister and her expanding family from February 8 - 13. This is the first grandchild on both sides of our families. A couple people have asked if I feel sad because my little sister got married and had a baby before me...and to that I say a big, "Hells no". My sister and I are on different timelines. We've actually been lucky in that way. Many sisters compete to accomplish more than their female siblings, but we've always had such different life plans that our lives are like apples and oranges.

Anyway, I'm posting a couple pictures of the little diva. Doesn't she look smart? I bet she's a Democrat. We've got to have a female president sometime...might as well be President Hailey.

Blizzards Are Fun

2007-01-23T16:07:00.000-06:00

We had a short blizzard on Sunday so The Boyfriend and I took the opportunity to make our first snowman. St. Louis rarely gets the perfect snow for activities of this sort. It was heavy and wet...the kind that when we were done our yard looked as though it hadn't snowed on part of it. Very reminiscent of childhood.

We only had baby carrots so the nose is really stubby, and the mouth was made out of cat food so it's only a matter of time before the feral felines in our hood attack it for a snack.

I'm So Tired of Putting Up a Wall

2007-01-14T09:58:00.000-06:00

Ok, LITERALLY, I'm tired of putting up a wall.

I tossed the idea around with my pal, L, to put up some sort of door and frame/drywall a section of our basement to create a studio space so that the kitties cannot contribute to our projects. Plus, I go through phases of desperation to build something tangible. This was definitely tangible.

L and I, combined, possibly hold all the knowledge there is in the world. That may actually be a gross overestimation, but we have yet to find a project or task that we could not accomplish together. We also get along really well while doing them.

So we set out at 11:30 to see if we could take measurements and get supplies to raise a wall and hang a door. We went to the Habitat for Humanity Restore (it's a store that sells used construction materials, with all the proceeds going to build Habitat homes) to find a door. After 30 minutes, we settled on a fabulous, and not just because it was $30.00, solid wood door with a double paned window.

On to Lowe's...
We planned our supply needs carefully (no offense to the kind folks at Lowe's, but as a female and gay man, we thought we should be prepared so we wouldn't have to ask for help...we really like to be taken seriously whenever possible).

We entered the store and went on a whirling dervish of gathering 2x4s, drywall, masonry screws/adhesive, drywall tape, and joint compound.

L had plans with his boyfriend, I had plans with The Boyfriend...but we couldn't stop. We arrived at the house and began construction around 4 pm. By 10 pm the wall was done. Mostly done. The next day I hung the second side of dry wall and over the next week applied three coats of joint compound. But enough of my feeble tale...I'll let the photos speak for themselves!

Please do not judge us by the disorganization of our studio space...that clutter in the background is because I wouldn't organize my stuff until the room was liberated from the cats.

Me (and my double chin) chiseling the indents for the door hinges. I was a bit overzealous for my first chiseling project.

The door is hung...L peeks through.

L saws wood wearing my biker goggles from Burning Man. I really need to invest in some safety gear.

The finished frame. If you look really closely, you can see The Boyfriend in the background lending moral support.

L poses behind the finished wall with Nova...for what is the first and last time the little one will be on that side of the wall.

View from the inside out.

The wall with it's first coat of joint compound.

I'll post more pictures as the wall progresses.

Trust me, I can assure you it's lovely.

What Is A New Years Resolution?

2007-01-05T08:40:00.000-06:00

Main Entry: res·o·lu·tion
Pronunciation: "re-z&-'lü-sh&n
Function: noun
1 : the act or process of resolving: as a) the act of analyzing a complex notion into simpler ones b) the act of answering : SOLVING c) the act of determining
2 : the subsidence of a pathological state (as inflammation)
3 a) something that is resolved b) firmness of resolve
synonym see COURAGE
(I took out a couple lines of definitions that didn't apply to what I'm writing about...and they were boring)

I hate New Years resolutions, mostly because I break them and beat myself up about my lack of commitment. One would think that if we have areas in need of personal growth that we could do that ANY time of year. While this is true, I think it's easier to find a clear starting time. With this said, I have no New Years resolutions, but I do have a couple areas where I require growth...and my starting time happened to have been January 1.

Checking My Messages
This seems like a small feat, but I have SERIOUS issues with checking my work voicemail, as well as my cell phone. I'll look down at the phone (either one - the cell with it's obnoxious little envelope, the work phone with the mounting number of new messages) and feel dread. I don't want to take the time to check them, and procrastinate until the anxiety and guilt become unmanageable. If I know that I'll be carrying around a whole bunch of self-loathing, why don't I check them? By the time I get around to it, I may have 12 messages on each. I'm not performing as well as I could in either my professional, or my personal life.

So far, I've kept up on checking both phones. Simply, I check the messages and return the calls immediately after I see I have them. Seems simple, but I'm keeping an eye out for slipping in my resolution. It feels really good, and I hope I can make it a habit.

Healthier Me
It's no joke, I've gained 20 pounds in the last year. For a while I blamed it on my car accident last April...but that's a load of crap. It's mostly out of laziness and lack of energy...AND, if I were working out and eating well I would have more energy. Oh the irony.

It may seem like an odd first step, but I quit my gym. That's not the end...I JOINED the YMCA. My old gym was convenient when I lived and worked near it, but I don't go now that it's out of the way and parking is horrific. The Y is on my way to and from work. The old gym didn't have a track, pool, or steam room. I'd been doing the same workouts for seven years. The new gym has these things and I look forward to starting different activities.

It's rumored that a habit is formed after practicing it for 10 days. If I check my messages consistently for 10 days, and wake up motivated to do something active each day, then I should be on the road to overcoming these challenges. I thought it was interesting that in the definition of resolution, the synonym was COURAGE. I think it does take a certain amount of courage to change things about us. Don't we all strive to be better than we are? I guess some people don't...but I don't hang out with them. :)

The Washingtonienne

2006-12-28T09:07:00.000-06:00

I just read about Jessica Cutler, the Capital Hill Aide and blogger that wrote The Washingtonienne. She's being sued because she wrote explicit information about her boyfriend, amongst the other men she was "dating". It was published, then taken down once all the drama started.

As a blogger myself, I was intrigued by the story. The issue is basically whether she has the first amendment right to publish information about her personal life, including those she associates with, online (Keep in mind, she did list her conquests by letters of the alphabet, although anyone in the same social circle could have deciphered her genius system). This issue is one that's foremost in my mind as I type away. What do I want anyone who has a computer to know about me?

My list of DON'Ts:
1. My last name
2. My friends and coworkers first or last names.
3. Any identifying information about my clients, as well as any sort of issue going on at work that would be a breach of the confidentiality statement I signed when I was hired.
4. Personal information about my family.
5. I WILL write in generalities about The Boyfriend, but I don't write about anything pertaining to OUR relationship...such as fights, finances, sex (oh wait, I was raised Catholic, I don't have sex), etc.
6. Anything I think my parents would find offensive or inappropriate (my bleeding heart political views are exempt to this rule).

My list of Don'ts are pretty clear cut for me. I was going to post a couple lines from her blog, but I shuddered at the thought of my parents reading her choice in language. I sound like a prude, but I think in this day and age of posting personal information on the internet, we can lose our private lives.

I feel like I need to say that I don't judge her for her sexual choices - I'm a firm believer in everyone doing what they want to with their own bodies. What I do have an issue with is her complete lack of concern for the reputations of the men she's doing all this with. In an interview, she stated her original intent was to "keep friends updated on my social life". It was clearly a blog about her sex life. She now has a new website with a button where people can donate money to, "pay for slutty clothes and drugs". Classy.

So the lawsuit. Was her blog illegal? Probably not. But there are such things as ethics and judgement. I think she got caught up in more and more people reading it and sending comments about how interesting she is. She probably began seeing herself as this happening East Coast hipster with the world in her hands. And the dude who filed the lawsuit is probably really embarassed...but I would think he'd want the attention to just go away, not end up in a court room for public review.

When I googled her blog, an entry came up for her on Wikpedia. If I were in there, I think I'd want to be listed for more than a Washington blog sex scandal.

The Binder

2006-12-19T14:43:00.000-06:00

T is my supervisor, as well as the Executive Director of the agency. He has a secret side life as a life coach and goal-planning-motivational-stuff. He's very intense and lives and breaths by The Binder.

"A", "M" and I (the three of us make up the leadership team) have been tormented by The Binder since T's arrival at EFA. Let me tell you what it is. It's a black binder with goal setting sheets, agency and personal assessments, and lots of exercises that people who are set in their ways don't have time for.

For the last six months, T's answer to everything is "Go get your binder". We never did. And let me say, I think we all realized it was just a matter of time before T didn't ask that we work with The Binder...he's been pretty patient with our resistance.

The agency is in, let me say, a transitional period. Due to agency confidentiality and my firm convictions in my obligation to professional ethics (as well and wanting to tease anyone who's nosy), I shall say no more about the transition. So in order to put the agency in as strong position as possible, we're working together to establish goals and objectives for 2007.

Enter The Binder (again). Because all three of us care about the agency, and T has earned our trust and respect, we've become less bratty towards it. We've entrusted our futures to this man who insists The Binder with change our lives. So when he asked that we each come up with 5-10 goals and work through The Binder method for planning to accomplish those goals - I did. And I have to say, I can see where this is going.

As much as I hate worksheets and making actual plans that will hold me accountable (as opposed to coming up with a "mental plan" that in NO way holds me accountable, mostly because I don't let anyone know what those plans are), I see how this type of plan can build a structured approach to accomplishing goals.

I actually hesitate to post this because "A" is going to be FURIOUS when she reads it - mostly because she hates The Binder the most (that statement is true, but may have also been written in case T sees my blog...I just think it's important that he knows I'm not the biggest hater of the binder). :)

Come See Me For a Good Cause!

2006-11-14T11:04:00.000-06:00

Ok, it's that time of year again...Dining Out For Life! Throughout the city and counties of St. Louis, MO, local restaurants will donate a percentage of their earnings to Saint Louis Effort For AIDS (EFA) in honor and support of this celebration on "the first Tuesday after Thanksgiving."

Having worked at EFA for 4 years, this fundraiser is very close to my heart. We couldn’t make supporting the agency any easier…Dine Out, Fight AIDS! I would love it if anyone that reads this and is in the St. Louis area went out and ate somewhere...preferably at one of my restaurants so I can say hello. :) (Q and Liz, I expect you both to travel from Canada and Seattle for the event.)

Please join me as I host Dining Out for Life on Tuesday, November 28th, at:

Wasabi (Lunch – donating 35%)
1228 Washington Ave.
St. Louis, MO 63103
314-421-3500
http://www.saucemagazine.com/wasabi/

SqWires (Dinner – donating 50%!)
1415 South 18th Street
Historic LaFayette Square
St. Louis, MO 63104
314-865-3522
http://www.sqwires.com/

Please call for reservations if you plan on dining at SqWires (if you cannot get it, Soda Fountain Square is across the street...I'll be making appearances there as well http://www.saucemagazine.com/SodaFountainSquare/index.html). All participants dining at sponsored locations will be registered to win a $250 Mastercard gift card.

I hope you can join me at one of these restaurants on Tuesday, November 28th. Other restaurants participating in this event can be found on EFA's webpage: http://www.stlefa.org.

Thank you so much & I look forward to seeing you there!

A Couple Lessons I've Learned Recently

2006-11-13T10:08:00.000-06:00

Lesson #1: Four cats are too many! (Side Note: I trapped three more kittens last Friday. I think they were Nova's sisters. They were about the same size and in the same place. I had NO problem dropping their adorable little asses off at the Humane Society).

Lesson #2: I look like a man when I dress like Cleopatra (see Halloween photo). Seriously, I really enjoyed putting this costume together, but I looked like a Donna Summers drag queen...and not a hot one. More like one that's just started performing and hasn't quite perfected their hormones and camera angles.

Lesson #3: I was born to be hit by other vehicles. Last April was my super bad car accident. A week after that, I got rear ended in my rental...and I got hit again last Thursday! And this time by my cryptonite...an old, adorbale, disabled veteran. I was completely helpless...I wanted to pay him off to make him feel better. We exchanged information, he called later to see how I was feeling, and to asure me that he would take complete responsibility...and I suppose I need to go get an estimate on my new car that looks like a junker already (did I mention Best Buy cut into my dash board when they installed a stereo? Yeah, I need an estimate for that too...their insurance is taking care of that).

Lesson #4: At some point, being a vicious, biting-clawing-chasing-crawling under the stove-always pooping-machine trumps cute. Yes, Nova has far more cute moments than annoying ones...but no amount of cute can make up for having your nostril bit in the middle of the night by needle-like kitten teeth. (Cute photo: please ignore my double chin and pay special attention to the adorable kitten poking out of my hoody. The last two photos demonstrate the "beast" at his beastiest. Come on now...tell me that isn't the face of the spawn of satan?).

The Litter

2006-11-08T09:05:00.000-06:00

Here's Nova with a couple of his bothers/sisters. The white kitten next to him was euthanized because she was "developmentally slow". The black and white one to his left is ADORABLE.

The Momma: This cat is so sweet - and physically very beautiful. She was the best momma ever. She was really tolerant of these little beasts climbing all over her. She nursed them for quite a while. I'm thankful that she took in our little guy.

Now those are some little monsters. Poor momma.

Here's Nova with the three white girls and the black and white boy. The one on the left grew really quickly. L, The Boyfriend and I named her "Crappy Eyes" because she got a really disgusting eye infection. The kitten on the right is the one that was put down. The middle kitten is a dwarf! L was examining her and noticed her legs are abnormally short. Strange. I think she wants to keep it now that she knows it's a genetic freak (so does The Boyfriend...I voted NO to having five cats).

New Picture of NovaHere's our guy. He looks pretty much the same, but he's all about playing - all the time. When he's not playing, he's sleeping on one of our shoulders.

I Get Everything That I Want...

2006-11-08T08:29:00.000-06:00

I've been lacking the inspiration to blog lately, and I hate writing just for the sake of updating. But there are so many good things going on in the news that I had to express myself.

Let us get the best news out of the way first...Britney Spears has filed for divorce from Kevin Federline. I realize that I am an intelligent, worldly young lady - but I love a jackass being dumped as much as anyone else. Woohoo! That pre-nup sounds so tight that he should be a hot dog vendor in about 3 months.

And seriously, that's not the most exciting news...but it does get my day off to a splendid start.

Ah, the election. I'm still waiting to see if the Democrats take the Senate, but I'm gleeful that the House is already in the bag. Some additional highlights that make me smile:

Claire McCaskill beat Jim Talent for our Senate seat. Jim ran a campaign based on negative stories about McCaskill, while she did not focus on the negative...she kept it about issues (well, except maybe one commercial about his salary and how many times he's voted against raising the minimum wage...but that seems pretty reasonable to me). Her main coup (in my opinion) was Michael J. Fox starring in a commercial for her.
Amendment 2: Allow Stem Cell Research: Proposed amendment to the Missouri Constitution known as the "Stem Cell Research and Cures Initiative" would protect embryonic stem cell research. It would specifically legalize all stem cell research and therapies consistent with federal law. It would ban human cloning. There was a lot of controversy surrounding this because of the whole cloning issue - WHICH IS CLEARLY BANNED IN IT! Anyway, no need to argue my point, it passed. :) I also want to say that The Boyfriend and I put up our first political yard sign (Vote Yes on 2). Our neighbors across the street had a No on 2 sign up and I was nervous because we've just become friendly with them. There didn't seem to be any fallout from it...we all pretended the signs weren't there.
Proposition B: Raise Minimum wage: This passed by 76%, and I suspect the remaining 24% were business owners that don't want to pay their employees more.

Ok, I feel content, an election finally went my way. I cried on my way home last year (because I pretty much knew it wouldn't be good), and it's nice to not feel that way this year (The Boyfriend called me after I voted just to make sure).

Miss Laura

2006-10-20T10:08:00.000-05:00

I thought I'd publish kind of a fun picture for this chilly Friday morning.

A co-worker sent me a photo this morning from an HIV prevention workshop. One of our other co-workers was in a skit about sexual pressure and safer sex with a high school student. Miss Laura (from the Queens of Comedy - she's in purple in the photo) was the MC, and also the keynote speaker. She was HILARIOUS! She told her life story...about being married to a pimp, and leaving him to go to typing classes, taking a theater class...and ending up in the Queens of Comedy!

She was incredibly down to Earth, and took several pictures with us. I'm on the left, then T, Miss Laura, and C (who lives in San Fransisco now).

My favorite quote from the day, and one that's really gross, but has stuck with me is this: Speaking to young women, she said, "You are no mans slop jar". If you don't know what that means, I shall not be the one to break it down for you.

I Get Super Creeped Out When Jesse Jackson Makes Sense

2006-10-12T16:03:00.000-05:00

I feel a little guilty that I used a mug shot of Jesse Jackson, instead of the respectable black and white one of him leaning on his hand and wearing a suit...but anyone that has a mug is fair game to have it posted.

I really don't have too much to say about this, but I saw Jackson on Montel this morning (that Montel is seriously trying to clean up his act...no more paternity tests, he seems to be taking on some REAL issues...Maurie Povich will have to keep on with the trash now...*sad*). The topic was education and religious diversity in the US.

They were addressing our horrific schools (in general) and the perceptions of Muslims in America. I was very impressed with his open-minded views on Muslims, and I appreciated that he isn't scared to speak out against Bush.

Although honestly, he could have been spewing forth facist bullshit and all I would have taken away was that he spoke out against Bush...

I've met Jackson a couple times. One of them was in college, where he tried to get a couple of us to give the Rainbow Coalition money (hello? College students). The second was down at the medium security jail in St. Louis. We were doing a push for testing incarcerated men and women, so he got tested to encourage them to do so as well.

I mean, he's fine, but sometimes I feel like what he's saying is just to stir things up. I would love to see some new African American leaders that aren't so sensationalized.

Nova Update

2006-10-12T15:43:00.000-05:00

For all of you who think we're insane (and we are) for taking in a little ragamuffin of a street cat...take a look at these photos. How in the world could we not keep this little guy!

He's been eating like a monster, and went from .13 pounds last Thursday, to 1.148 yesterday (Wednesday). The Humane Society tested him for Feline Leukemia and FIV (Feline HIV). He was negative for both. We were getting pretty nervous, because if he had Leukemia, he'd have to be put down...who'd have though we'd get this attached after only a week (but then again...look at that little face)?

So, The Boyfriend, Nova, and I went over to my friend L's last night. Conveniently, she happens to be fostering a PAINFULLY adorable litter of kittens, along with their mother. We put a little vanilla on the mother, her kittens, and Nova's foreheads (so they'd all smell alike), and let him loose.

He instantly went into "play" mode. The little kittens, who were almost exactly his size, welcomed him immediately - and they began exploring L's basement. Within 15 minutes, Nova was in a pile with all the other little ones, nursing with the mother. L said that when she went to bed, Nova was in a basket, all curled up with the five others.

We're so excited for him. Kittens that don't grow up with litters and are weaned too early usually have behavioral problems. He'll stay over at L's house until the litter leaves, then come back home to us. :)

Nova Burns Brightly

2006-10-06T21:43:00.000-05:00

The Boyfriend and I are OUT OF OUR MINDS!

So last night, I'm minding my own business, leaving the house to go for a walk...and my neighbor calls me over to look at something. A tiny (TINY) black cat is under a concrete porch crying it's little eyes out. I grab it, and suggest I take it to the Humane Society.

The Boyfriend comes home and I show him my catch. He flops onto his back in the grass, rolling around with the little creature.

"We could keep it," says The Boyfriend.

"Or, we could take it to the Humane Society and some family with little kids will adopt him," I respond.

One trip to PetsSmart, and three hours later and the cat is ours. You see, once you name an animal, it's never leaving your house (except for occasional visits to the vet).

Nova: A star that suddenly becomes much brighter.

We throught Nova was a girl, and Nova was a name felt right to both of us. Plus, Luna, the old lady, is all white and named for the moon...Nova is all black and named for a star.

I snuggled our little star in a blanket inside our cat carrier and off to work we went. I took breaks for bottle feedings (I was fully prepared to defend the feedings since I have never in the history of my job taken a smoke break...I'll take feeding breaks while the other folks are downstairs slowly killing themselves). I spoke with a friend taht fosters kittens for the Humane Society, and she mentioned that they would probably put him down, mostly because he's so young and isn't attached to a mother/litter. That finalized our decision.

I wrangled an appointment at the Humane Society for a check-up, it's vital that we don't endanger our existing cats. As it turns out, Nova is a boy. Luckily, the name we chose is delightfully unisex. The vet says for his age (3 1/2 - 4 weeks), and having lived on the streets, he's extremely healthy. He is really young, but if we bottle feed him he may be fine.

So for the next two weeks, Nova needs to stay away from Luna, Jack and Tiger (I'd actually like to see him put on a little weight before we let the wolves loose on him). He's living in a box in the office with a towel and an impossibly soft bear from "A" at work.

The hard part will be socializing him with our other kitties. The vet said to have a well adjusted cat, we have to allow the other cats to teach him to be a cat...which includes introducing him to the "hierarchy" (ie, he's gettin' his little ass kicked). The vet warned against getting involved, explaining that as Nova bites and claws them, they will do it back, until he realizes what's appropriate and what's not...and he'll apply these guidelines to both cats and humans.

Scary. Sad. I guess not as sad as a little black kitten freezing to death under a porch.

More pictures to follow.

Cool Photo Blog

2006-09-27T06:01:00.000-05:00

I don't know who this guy is, but I like the photos on his blog. I like that it seems he lives in New Hampshire, yet he has lots of photo ops in Europe. Anyway, I stumbled upon it whilst looking for a picture to post on my "Early Bird..." post.

If you like black and whites, check it out!

The Early Bird Gets the Report Done (isn't that how that saying goes?)

2006-09-27T05:49:00.000-05:00

It is 5:40 AM. I have been at work for ten minutes.

I have this dreadful final report due on Friday for the Office of Minority Health. I've been working on it from home, from work, in my head a little while trying to sleep, etc.

This morning is the final day that I would feel good about sending it (although I'll probably still overnight it just to be safe).

Why do I care about a FINAL funding paper (ie, they've already given us the money and now they're done)? Quite simply, if I do not complete this report, and to their satisfaction, they will not give us any new money in the future.

Plus, I kind of feel like I owe it to them after using almost $500,000 of their seed money to start the pilot program that's now the backbone of our department.

And now (dramatic pause)...I must work!

The Irony...maybe not irony, but strange for sure

2006-09-25T22:12:00.000-05:00

Interesting story…I was checking to see who was viewing my blog…not because I’m a narcissist, but because I wanted to see if my Mommy’s been reading (even better, right?). I noticed a referring URL that showed up on a couple viewers. I linked to where it was coming from...and it was a site that apparently searches for blogs that discuss online games. In this case, the mere mention of Eve Online brought my blog to to search.

That in itself is not so interesting...and the part that I find interesting may seem quite lame to you. I found it interesting because whenever The Boyfriend is playing said game, I always ask him, "How are the geeks?".

He replies with, "Oh, you know, they're good."

My next question, "Do they miss me?".

"Of course", is his answer every time.

So I felt a little creeped out that I ask him about the game, I taunt him about it, I refer to the players as if they're his pals (which they kind of are when they chat on those little microphones...that The Boyfriend MAY OR MAY NOT HAVE *wink wink*), and of all people...my blog shows up on a sight when some gamer typed the name of the game in a search.

Below is the little tagline...you can view it in all it's glory by clicking on the post title.

I can't WAIT for The Boyfriend to get back and read this!!

• Dr. Boyfriend
>>>1 day ago in Inside the Mind of a Maniac • 2 blog links here
Congratulations to The Boyfriend!! It's official, The Boyfriend is officially Dr. Boyfriend. I'll still call him The Boyfriend, mostly because he doesn't seem all that interested in being identified as someone with a PhD. I've overheard him on more than one occasion say, "It's just important that I know I did it"
• » Show details

Lonely and Hungry

2006-09-25T18:13:00.000-05:00

The Boyfriend is somewhere in Arkansas. I'm fasting...and really hungry.

After the last five months of academic hell, The Boyfriend needed to go camp by himself somewhere. So, he got in his car and drove until he found a good BBQ place, which was apparently in Eminence, MO. He called today to give me his top three camp sites, which I wrote down in case he doesn't show up on schedule. I'm actually not all that lonely, as I could use a little alone time to recharge and regroup...that five months was no picnic for me either.

I decided with him gone, it would be a good time to do a fast/cleanse. I usually go for three days, but I had to break it when I got home from work today (almost 2 days in). I began feeling irritable, confused, and my head was pounding. I did all fruit juice yesterday (with a couple cups of brown rice because I was STARVING). Today I had fruit, juice, water, tea, and a little brown rice. And when I got home, a lovely salad with pine nuts and pecans.

I have to say, I do feel like I have more energy and I'm craving healthy food.

Is it wrong that in the back of my mind I kind of want a big cheeseburger (I won't give in...all this starving WILL NOT be for nothing!).

Sunflowers

2006-09-23T22:49:00.000-05:00

The Boyfriend asked specifically for a sunflower in the yard when we were planning our yard. I thought it was an adorable request, so I got an envelope of seeds. He excitedly brought the first flowers that had come in and put them in a mason jar. I think of him whenever I look at them.

Dr. Boyfriend

2006-09-23T21:40:00.000-05:00

Congratulations to The Boyfriend!!

It's official, The Boyfriend is officially Dr. Boyfriend. I'll still call him The Boyfriend, mostly because he doesn't seem all that interested in being identified as someone with a PhD. I've overheard him on more than one occasion say, "It's just important that I know I did it". I don't anticipate any bratty outbursts when a server brings his credit card receipt to him and calls him Mr. Boyfriend instead of Dr. Boyfriend (which is good, because that wouldn't be hot at all). Note: I thought posting the above picture of his "smart person" napkin scribblings would be a fun way to start the post...he took the picture for his thesis defense presentation, but I found it on my camera. I cannot tell you how many bar napkins he desecrated with protein-genetic-markov-whatevers.

The Defense
Can I just say that The Boyfriend is the sexiest scientist ever?!? He looked like he might puke before we left the house, but once he was in front of everyone...man, he was ON! He seemed completely confident, relaxed, and able to joke at mishaps (such as the battery going out on the laser pointer and hitting the wrong powerpoint button and starting the slides over). He answered all the questions in a manner that seemed knowledgeable, but not arrogant.

Then he got grilled by his committee (in the meantime, The Boyfriends parents and I went to Home Depot to buy a part for our ailing toilet. We've been tortured by it's weak performance for months...and now The Boyfriends father has fixed it...hurray!). When the dust cleared, he had a PhD. in Genetics, without having to rewrite any chapters or anything.

The Yard
The Boyfriend's father is a total maniac. I mean that in the most positive way possible. He asked if there was anything else I needed to do, and I said casually that I was going to try to weed the patio. We went in the backyard for two hours, and we did a whole seasons worth of yard work. Then, I couldn't get him to stop. "Well, that looks about right, I think we can go back in now". The Boyfriends Dad replies, "Are you kidding? You can't get me started and then pull the rug out from under me!". He weeded, he edged (with a shovel!), he cut down random tree branches, he cleared the gate. It looked so amazing that I dubbed it the Party Cove and bought a fire pit! It only seemed appropriate since it had gotten chilly and I could see our place bursting at the seams with people...having a heated outside area would give an extra seating option.

The Party
I couldn't get The Boyfriend to commit to having a party. I really felt it was my duty to mark the occasion with a gathering, but he isn't very easy to pin down. Finally, last Sunday night he agreed - we would have a small party on Thursday. I began making calls, we planned the timeline of things to do. Our plan was simple and easily executable...especially with the aid of his energetic parents.

We had a full house...a perfect balance of scientists and not-scientists. It was so much fun, and everything went perfectly...even with 25 people in a 820 square foot house. The Boyfriend smoked 2 pork shoulders and we put it in a crock pot for pulled pork sandwiches. The other crock pot had baked beans...for sides we had salad, cole slaw, corn on the cob...and two excellent desserts from Z and T.

Descriptions of Photos (on the right):

The first photo is The Boyfriends Father grilling chicken...which was the topic of conversation among people with cheeks filled with delicious BBQ bird. I had wanted to post one with both his parents, but it turned out too dark.
The second is the sexy Dr. Boyfriend making pulled pork. If he hadn't finished his PhD., I really think he should have looked into being a grill master...give the man a couple charcoal briquets and a few hours and he can smoke anything in our Weber grill!
The Party Cove in daylight.
The Party Cove at night...you can see the Christmas lights I put up. We don't have a back porch light - those strings provided a shocking amount of illumination.
The Boyfriend showing his fellow Geneticists his dorky Eve Online game.

Red Tail Guilt

2006-09-16T09:21:00.000-05:00

I did something last night that I feel SOOOO bad about. I came home from work - exhausted...and a little sassy. I was venting to The Boyfriend about something I had to do, and about how I suddenly felt resentful. Like I said...it was venting...getting my negative energy out.

While I was spewing forth all that is evil and wrong, I began absentmindedly coloring the tip of Luna's tail with a red Sharpie pen. At the time it was kind of fun, sort of like when I use Manic Panic in my hair to add purple or red streaks. Luna looked at me, howled, and ran away.

When I saw her slinking around later, all I could see was her red-tipped tail. It looks bloody. I feel really horrible. The Boyfriend insists that she has no clue, and that when/if she cleans herself (in her old age she's disgustingly let her self go) she won't be poisoned by the ink.

I feel like I disfigured her. I feel like a terrible and abusive person. :(

Flyin' Solo

2006-09-03T12:43:00.000-05:00

I've never eaten alone in a restaurant. Why? I think probably because when I see people (more specifically, OLD people) sitting alone, it makes my heart hurt. My mind makes up little scenarios in which they're sad, their families have abandoned them and they have nobody to eat with. The Boyfriend, on the other hand, enjoys eating alone and does it frequently...as well as seeing movies by himself. So this morning, I was bouncy, and he was not awake. I'd gone to bed early, he'd been up until 4 am. I wanted biscuits, he didn't really give a crap about biscuits.

He suggested I go to Chris' Pancake House, a neighborhood place that's less than a block away, and eat by myself. Hmm. What is it that makes me uncomfortable about that suggestion? Seriously, if someone chooses to eat alone, they must have some level of comfort. If they felt sad at a table alone, they could stay at home and make/order food. My own perception of what constitutes "loneliness" is my main hang-up. I ASSUME that someone is lonely just because they're alone. Keep in mind, I'm fully aware of feeling lonely while in a crowd of people that care about me.

After little discussion, I was convinced.

I think The Boyfriend knew how to get me sold on the idea. "You can be whoever you want! You could be a business person in town for a meeting, or maybe someone just finishing your shift on the East Side (ie. strip clubs)". I did have at least $18.00 in ones in my purse. Interesting, I could be whomever I want. The irony is that when I am out of town on business without a co-worker, I usually eat my McDonald’s Cobb salad and Oreo McFlurry in my hotel room, watching HBO’s “Hookers on the Point”.

I set some rules for myself, a list of "Do's and Don'ts", if you will:

DON'T: Explain why you're there under any circumstance. Tell nobody that you have a super sexy Boyfriend in bed sleeping, and that this is a personal experiment.
DO: Hold your head high and appear relaxed (when I concentrate I can seem a little gloomy, must concentrate on keeping a small grin on my face...which may actually come off as a bit creepy).

DON'T: Rush eating my food, then grab the check, pay, and scamper out with my tail between my legs.
DO: Linger after eating and stay until my place is cleared, leisurely finishing my coffee and water.

DON'T: Scrape the bottom of my butter container - that just seems like a good policy for me when eating alone - there's something kind of desperate about clinging to that last ounce of buttery goodness.
DO: Eat deliberately, look around, and take home whatever I don't eat (that was tagged on because I figured The Boyfriend would be scrounging for food by the time I made it back).

DON’T: No books or magazines!
DO: Become a part of the environment – no fidgeting or acting self-conscious.

Ok, now to put the plan in action. I walked across the street and entered the place. As usual, it was packed. I approached the host and held up my pointy finger, "One please". I was taken immediately to my table, apparently single tables were in low demand. I was seated at the last table in the "row of shame" (I made that up, I'm 99.7% sure they don't call it that). Above is a picture of the inside of the restaurant. I've made a small white circle where I sat.

Anywho, there are three tables against the wall that lead to the kitchen and bathroom. I had the last one, with my lone eating companions being two grossly overweight middle-aged men that looked freakishly alike.

So far, so good.

I ordered coffee and noticed a young server give me a strange smile with her eyebrows slightly furrowed. She was the only one that seemed to notice my lack of companionship. I realize now that I may be the individual that gives a weak smile to people when they're contentedly dining alone (note to self: stop doing that, it's really annoying).

Elderly people streamed in and were seated together, while I realized I was glad they were not in the “row of shame”. Servers greeted them as they walked by, obviously they were regulars. "HEY, why do they get plates of delicious-looking little cookies!?!" I've gotten them in the past, why not now? Shouldn't the lonely chick get cookies?!?!” They're really not on my healthy eating plan, but it's the principle, really.

Anyway, my service was fast and it diminished my pain at not having delicious tiny cookies. It occurred to me that I didn't need to wait around for anyone else’s order...just my veggie omelet, hash browns, and biscuits. I ate one biscuit, and a couple bites of omelet (they needed some SERIOUS doctoring, meaning cheese - that's what I get for trying to be healthy).

I got my check, sat for a few minutes, absorbed one more look from the sympathetic server, paid my bill and walked back home.

And yes, I paid in all ones.

(Anyone wondering the fate of my leftovers should be rest-assured, The Boyfriend added cheddar cheese and hot sauce to the omelet, then gobbled it up)

ID Badges

2006-08-31T13:05:00.000-05:00

You'd think that making ID badges at work would be a pretty dry activity, right? Well it was for a little while.

So the Case Managers needed badges, mostly because Prevention already has them, so I can imagine they wanted them because they are constantly striving to be as cool as us. It's very hard to reach our level of coolness...especially once we get our new sexy labcoats and safely glasses next week. But seriously, the Case Managers and Prevention peeps generally go places that could require identification - hospitals, jails, meetings, etc. (below is my badge, pretty standard)

Anyway, so I lined the Case Managers against a really boring wall outside the women's bathroom (despite "K"'s plea to be photographed against pink fur that, strangely, is against an entire wall in her cube). I took two pictures for each person, and an extra one of "A" looking evil, just because. The badges are complete, but somehow we got off course.

The photo above is where we landed...with "L" trying to escape from "A"'s office (ignore the fact that the door next to her is open). But really...it was pretty fun, and I totally have to take partial responsibility for the chaos because, after all, I did take the picture.

Let's take a peek at the evil "A" photo, just for fun. :) See "A", isn't this fun?

And THIS, my friends, is why I work at EFA!

Tiawanna

2006-08-24T22:10:00.000-05:00

I usually don't use names when I write on my blog, but there is no anonymity in death. My co-worker and friend, Tiawanna, died in a car accident on Monday. She had left our agency 2 weeks ago to start her dream job - counseling elementary school kids. She'd finished her masters in counseling about a month ago.

I've had a really hard time figuring out how I feel. I've had this big, solid knot in the pit of my stomach, and I kept wishing I felt more, because I couldn't feel much about anything. I'm not even sure I'll have much to write about this. I may just kind of "free" write and it may not make too much sense.

So Tiawanna and I started at EFA around the same time. She was the psychosocial support coordinator (planned support groups). She came down to our department frequently, because frankly, we're a lot of fun.

Her cube was right outside our testing room. When I needed verification of HIV rapid test results, I'd swing the door open, twist my arm around so the test was in front of her face. "One line or two? (one line is negative, two lines is positive)". She ALWAYS laughed before answering when we went through this ritual.

She would do anything for her clients...anything. She cared so much about them. She defended them like they were her children.

Anyway, after I first heard on Monday, I had the dreaded knot. It was more of the same on Tuesday and Wednesday. Wednesday night I was with some friends and absolutely cried my eyes out. It felt amazing. That's not to say I feel better about a beautiful, caring, 30-year-old dying, but I felt like a bit of me was coming back. This morning we had a couple grief counselors come in for the staff. That made me feel a little better yet. It helped to hear that we were all feeling the same way - we're having problems sleeping, we can't focus, everyday tasks seem difficult, and we're feeling resentful when people who didn't know her talk about their problems.

After the funeral on Saturday, I'm hoping for the beginning of acceptance and healing. The main problem is that this doesn't seem real at all. I keep picturing her and wondering what she thinks about all of this. I keep expecting to see her at the funeral. This is unfair. I feel really sad.

And I have to say, I felt really mad when I noticed the news articles were spelling her name wrong.

This Survey Is HUGE! (But fun)

2006-08-19T18:02:00.000-05:00

Massive “Get To Know Me” Survey

This is so long that my family will probably know me better if they can get through the whole thing. Some of the questions are pretty interesting. Good luck with this!

Time Started: 1:52 PM

1.) When showering, do you start the water and then get in or get in then start the water?
Start the water, then get in.
2.) Do you read the labels on the shampoo bottle?
No
3.) Do you moan in the shower like the people on the Herbal Essence commercial?
No
4.) Have you ever showered with someone of the opposite sex?
Yes (Mom, Dad, please don’t read anything having to do with the opposite sex)
5.) Have you ever been forced to shower with one of your siblings?
No, I showered with them willingly
6.) Have you ever brushed your teeth in the shower?
Yes, last week at the gym in fact
7.) Have you ever dropped your soap on your foot?
Absolutely
8.) How old do you look?
28 on a good day
9.) How old do you act?
Difficult question, sometimes I act about 6, other times I’d gauge myself at about 45
10.) What's the last song you sang?
“Rio”, by Duran Duran – On my way home from work on Friday
11.) Have you recently become a member of anything?
No
12.) What are your plans for the weekend?
Go to a graduation party for a scientist colleague of The Boyfriends tonight, mow the lawn tomorrow, work at Black Gay PRIDE tomorrow night
13.) Do you kiss with your eyes opened or closed?
Both
14.) Have you ever ridden a mechanical bull?
Yes, twice
15) Do you ever intentionally vomit after eating?
No
16.) If you were working on a pirate ship, what would you most likely be?
I think I’d be the grimacing one that never showers and tries to start fights. I think I would also curse and growl a lot.
17.) Have you ever called anyone a slut?
Yes
18) Have you ever been called a slut?
Probably
19). Have you ever smuggled something into America?
Yes
20.) Does playing a guitar make someone more attractive?
No
21.) Do you live in a city with a good sports team
I think so, I’m not really into the whole sports scene.
22). Do you have more enemies or more friends?
Friends
23.) Have you ever sent an anonymous letter?
No
24.) Can you fix your own car?
Some things
25.) Have you ever turned someone down for a date?
Yes
26.) Are you smarter than your friends?
Some
27.) Have you ever lied to your friends?
Yes
28.) Have you ever been to jail?
No
29) Do you like the smell of beer?
Yes
30.) Have you ever died or killed someone in a dream?
Yes
31.) Have you ever given to charity?
Yes
32.) Would you kill a dog for $1,000,000?
I don’t think so, but money does strange things to people
33.) Do you sometimes get depressed?
Yes
34.) Do you live with your parents?
No
35.) Do you have plans for your future?
Yes

X MARKS THE SPOT

You are
[ ] under 5'4
[ ] 5'4"-5'5"
[ ] 5'5"-5.6"
[ ]5'6.5 - 5'7 ''
[x] 5'7" - 6'0
[ ] 6'1 and up

NATURALLY
[ ] blonde
[x] redhead
[ ] brunette
[ ] dirty blonde
[ ] brownish
[ ] dark brown
[ ] black
[ ] auburn

[ ] blue-eyed
[ ] brown-eyed
[ ] green-eyed
[ ] Hazel-eyed
[ ] gold/gray-eyed
[ ] silver/gray- eyed
[x] blue/green-eyed
[ ] green/gray-eyed
[ ] blue/gray-eyed
[x] they change colors
[ ] steel gray, cold gray
[ ] Brownish greenish

[x] glasses
[x] contacts
[ ] neither

[ ] short hair
[ ]medium hair
[x] long hair

Your favorite color(s) are?
[x] red
[ ] khaki
[ ] aqua
[ ] pink
[x] hot pink
[ ] yellow
[x] black
[ ] green
[x]lime green
[ ]blue
[ ] white
[ ] turquoise
[ ] purple
[x] silver
[ ] brown
[ ] orange
[ ] grey
[ ] fuscia
[ ] maroon
[ ]gold
[ ] teal
[ ] clear
[ ] bronze
[ ] I don't really care

Some things you've done?
[x] ice skating
[x] hiking
[x] kayaking
[ ] rafting
[x] water skiing
[x] camping
[x] horseback riding
[ ] bodysurfing and skim boarding
[ ] snowboarding
[x] skiing
[x] dancing
[x] skateboarding
[ ] cheerleading
[ ] lacrosse
[ ] street hockey
[x] gymnastics
[ ] martial arts
[ ] flag/rifle/baton spinning
[x] swimming
[ ] wakeboarding

Your personality is sometimes...
[x] talkative
[x] shy
[x] funny
[ ] serious
[x] laid back
[x] strict
[x] hyper
[x] weird
[ ] ditzy
[x] sarcastic
[ ] slow

You like listening to?
[x] pop
[ ] country
[ ] Christian
[ ] orchestral
[x] techno
[ ] oldies sometimes
[ ] opera
[x] 80's punk rock
[x] disco
[x] rap
[ ] classic rock
[x] punk
[x] metal
[x] reggae
[x] rock
[x] alt./indie rock
[x] brit/foreign rock
[ ] beach music

The pets you have
[3] cat(s)
[ ] dog(s)
[ ] lizard(s)
[ ] rat(s)
[ ] ferret(s)
[ ] bunny(ies)
[ ] fish
[ ] duck(s)
[ ] horse(s)
[ ] bird(s)
[ ] frog (s)
[ ] hermit crab
[ ] turtle
[ ] hamster
[ ] snake
[ ] gerbil
[ ] guinea pig
[ ] pig
[ ] goat
[ ] chinchilla
[ ] tarantula
[ ] geese
[ ] baby chicks
[ ] none
[ ] hedgehog
[ ] snail
[ ] piranha
[ ] seagull
[ ] newt
[ ] turkey
[ ] rooster

Clothing Brands you like?
[ ] Delia's
[ ] American Eagle
[x] Hollister
[ ] Buckle
[ ] Abercrombie & Fitch
[x] Target
[ ] Wal-mart
[ ] Wet Seal
[ ] Forever 21
[ ] O'neil
[ ] Pac Sun
[x] Gap
[x] Banana Republic
[x] Aeropostale
[ ]Dickies
[ ] Quicksilver
[ ] Anchor Blue
[ ] Guess
[ ] Lucky Brand
[ ] Champs
[x] Salvation army/goodwill/value village
[x] Old Navy
[ ] Name brands
[x] Victorias secret
[x] whatever is at the thrift store
[x] H&M
[ ] Eddie Bauer
[x] Hot Topic
[ ] BCBG
[ ] ARDEN B
[x] Anything

Shoe Brands?
[x]Flip-Flops
[ ] Rainbows
[ ] Nike
[ ] Adidas
[ ] Reebok
[ ] Billabong
[ ] Roxy
[ ] Puma
[ ] Jack purcells
[ ] Uggs
[ ] Etnies
[ ] Reefs
[ ] Converse
[ ] K Swiss
[ ] Adios
[ ] DC
[ ] I Path
[x] Steve Madden
[ ] Timberlands
[ ]Vans
[x] If I like something I'll buy it
[x] New Balance
[ ] LEI
[ ] Payless
[ ] DVS
[ ] Es
[ ] Macbeth
[x] NINE WEST
[x] sketchers
[x] anything

Your confessions:
[ ] I hate silence
[x] I am ticklish
[x] sometimes I'm afraid of the dark
[ ] I've collected comic books
[ ] I shut out others when mad
[ ] I open up to others TOO easily
[ ] I read the newspaper when people I know are in it.
[ ] I love Disney movies
[ ] I am a sucker for gorgeous eyes
[ ] I don't kill bugs.
[ ] I have "x"s in my screen name.
[x] I bake well.
[x] I have worn pajamas to class
[x] I love Martha Stewart
[ ] I am guilty of tYpInG lIkE tHiS
[x] sometimes I am self-conscious
[x] I love to laugh
[ ] I can't swallow pills
[ ] I bite my nails
[ ] I play computer games when I'm bored
[x] I've gotten lost in the city
[x] I have gone out in public in my pajamas
[ ] I have made out in an elevator
[ ] I have been skydiving
[ ] I have been bungee jumping
[x] I have bitten someone
[ ] I have dressed up like the opposite sex
[x] I have smashed a car
[x] I have been fired
[x] I have been skinny dipping

Have you ever...
[ ] kissed in the rain
[x] danced in the rain
[x] seen a shooting star
[ ] proposed to anyone
[x] Gotten stitches
[x] Eaten Sushi
[x] Gotten the chicken pox
[x] Ridden in a taxi
[x] Been on a cruise ship
[x] Driven over 400 miles in one day
[x] Been on a Plane by yourself
[x] had surgery
[ ] seen a movie more than 3 times in the theater.
[x] been on stage
[x] gotten a black eye
[x] memorized all the dialogue in a movie
[x] watched an entire baseball game

Do you like...
[x] old movies
[x] musicals/plays
[x] blasting music in your car
[x] foreign foods
[ ] Pokemon
[x] Christmas time
[x] donuts
[x] animals
[x] coffee
[x] tea

TWO'S OF EVERY KIND

Two Things That Scare You:
Snakes and people I love dying
Two of Your Everyday Essentials:
Water bottle and chap stick
Two Things that Appeal to You In a Guy/Girl:
Quirkiness (and an appreciation of my quirks) and sense of humor
Two Things You Want Really Badly:
To change the world and a satellite radio receiver with an mp3 jack for my car
Two Places You Want to go on Vacation:
The Grand Canyon and Italy
Two Things You Are Thinking About Now:
Wishing I’d bought the right color of red spray paint to finish painting my desk (I got Apple Red instead of Colonial Red), a tiny bit of self-loathing for not working out today when I had plenty of time.
Two favorite animals:
Cats and horses
Two Reasons you're doing this survey:
Introspection is fun and this survey is different than most I’ve seen
How many pairs of jeans do you own?:
5
What color(s) do you wear most often?
Black
Last song heard on the radio?
Ridin’ Dirty
What's for dinner tonight?
Leftover pan-seared trout that I didn’t eat last night (we went to Drussel’s and I ate too many chips and clam chowder to eat ANY of my food)
Are you happy with your life right now?
Shockingly happy
Tell me a secret about one of your siblings.
I’d rather not (payback’s a bitch, and they could probably tell worse ones about me) J
Who did you last call?
Michelle
Do you own a...
PS2?:
What’s that?
PSP?:
Again, what’s that?
Gamecube?
No
SIDEKICK?:
No
DIGITAL CAMERA?:
Yes
Ipod?
No – I have two super snappy Creative brand mp3 players
Do you shop at stores like Hollister, Abercrombie?
Regrettably, yes
How do you make money?
Manage the Prevention Department at an AIDS service organization
Last thing you bought over 50 dollars?
A 2006 Honda Civic
How's the weather?:
Overcast and cool…with a faint threat of humidity
When did you start summer break?:
I’m not a student – I have neither Spring, Christmas, nor Summer break (funny, some grown folk still pout over giving these up…it’s called BEING A GROWN UP!)
One word to describe you?:
Grounded
Favorite pair of shoes:
Purple and pink Sketchers Do you own big sunglasses?
Of course Do you find yourself attractive?:
Usually
What would you rather be doing right now?:
Nothing, I usually do what I feel like doing
What should you be doing right now?
Cleaning or working out
Last text message you recieved?
From ElanFlux verifying she was somewhere she was SUPPOSED to be that she didn’t WANT to be.
Who did you hug today?
The Boyfriend
How many beds did you lay in yesterday?
1
What color shirt are you wearing?
White
Name one thing that you do everyday
Take ritalin
What’s the color of your bedroom walls?
Sage
How much cash do you have on you right now?
$4.00
What’s your favorite sport?
To play – Volleyball, not much of a sports watcher
I cant wait till..?
The Boyfriend is finished with his thesis and graduates. I really want him to feel good about his graduate work and get a regular schedule so he can do things that make him feel fulfilled.
When was the last time you saw your dad?
Father’s Day weekend
Who got you to join myspace?
Clayton
What did you have for dinner last nite?
Chips and clam chowder
Look to your left. What’s there?
A periwinkle colored wall
What website do you visit the most?
cnn.com
Do you have plants in your room?
No
Does anything hurt on your body right now?
No
Where was your last taxicab ride in?
To and from the airport
Do you own a picture phone?
No
What’s your favorite starbucks drink?
Chai Latte
Recent time you were really upset?
Wednesday night – unidentifiable anxiety

Last person you...
1. Saw:
The Boyfriend
2. Hugged:
The Boyfriend
3. Talked on the phone with?
Michelle
4. IM:
I don’t IM
5. Told to fuck off:
A driver that honked at me – but they didn’t know it

Time ended: 2:27 PM

A Step Back In Time...

2006-08-17T13:59:00.000-05:00

Our internet is out at work. Yes, that's what I said. This catastrophe has all but halted our productivity. That may be a little far fetched, but the case managers are seriously hindered in serving their clients. They've worked out staggered schedules working from home, but it's a real inconvenience.

What has this situation meant to me? It's held me back from writing on my blog!!

I often used my lunch to write a quick post, but now I'm checking my emails from home and it doesn't leave much time for blogging. I try to limit my computer time as much as possible...ok, so I have very little time when I'm actually home and can use the computer without completely shutting out The Boyfriend.

I have to admit that it has been kind of an eye-opener. When I was in college, we didn't use email or internet for anything...and I graduated in 1997!! Not that long ago! This makes me realize how reliant we've become. Don't get me wrong, I love being able to communicate over the internet "tubes" (that was a shout out to CR), but it also weakens our actual communication skills. We now have to CALL people if we want to set up a meeting or RSVP for a program, and that takes, like, so much time.

Perhaps I'll meditate and put some good vibes out for our internet to be restored (I think that just might bring some iffy Karma my direction...maybe I'll just wait patiently).

Anyway, a couple updates:

I am home today because I have extra hours and I feel completely run down. I've been working kind of hard lately and my body told me to stay home so I can continue to do so. I should also mention that I'm feeling particularly fulfilled at work, which is usually when I'm working hard - go figure.
The Boyfriend is on the home stretch of his thesis (something about computational biology, hidden Markov models, genetics...I assure you, I KNOW this stuff). He's holding up as best as can be expected. I keep meaning to send his parents a quick email to let them know he's doing fine.
I should be working on my Law School applications and personal statement right now. I can't get the applications to work on our computer, and I don't want to write the personal statement. Bah!

Alright, I'm going to go pick some tomatoes, then start the personal statement.

The Morning After Pill - Over The Counter?

2006-08-05T12:52:00.000-05:00

I tend to be pretty liberal (ok, REALLY liberal) on most social issues. I feel confused and torn about the Morning After Pill being over the counter (OTC).

Pros For The Morning After Pill OTC

I really do value life, really...but I also value living beings that are already out of the womb and trying to make the best of a sometimes difficult world. I rejoice at the idea of a friend or relative helping a teenaged girl that's been raped to acquire the pill to prevent a pregnancy that would turn her life upside down - both physically and emotionally. Some girls aren't ready to face what's happened and go to a hospital or the police...and we have to accept them where they're at. Some hospitals won't prescribe the morning after pill because they have religious affiliations.
Any FDA or legislative act that leans towards Pro-Choice I think is A-OK. While I feel morally against late-term or partial-birth abortions, I would back policies protecting that right for women. Any steps backward on this issue takes us closer to overturning Roe vs. Wade. I could never get a partial-birth abortion (I'm not even sure I could get one in the first trimester!), but it's not for me to say whether it's not right for someone else...especially if that mother could lose her life giving birth. Whose life is more valuable?
The Morning After Pill has a lower impact on the body than a surgical or chemical abortion.

Cons For The Morning After Pill OTC

This is where the slope gets slippery for me. Working in HIV/STD PREVENTION, I have some real concerns about what ramifications this decision will have on STD rates. What about a college student that doesn't learn that protection is important because she has the security of using this pill after a one-night-stand? She's treating one symptom of a dangerous decision - pregnancy. What about HPV, syphilis, gonnorhea, Chlamydia, HIV? Pregnancy really may end up being the least of her concerns.
This pill could take away people feeling they need to make responsible decisions. It's, as the pill is already called, a "Plan B". "Plan A", which I feel needs to be using condoms consistently and correctly, or abstinence, may slip to a lower alphabetic priority...making the pill the first option.
What are the long-term effects of this pill on a women's body when used as birth control? And let's be real, some people WILL use this as birth control.
What kind of backlash will this being OTC have with conservatives, and will it stir them to action to take away reproductive freedoms?

My Verdict

I don't think I have one yet. I've discussed it with some colleagues and friends, we're all pretty much on the same page (and I have some L-I-B-E-R-A-L associates). With freedom comes responsibility. I'm not for it, I'm not against it. I think it may be kind of off my radar. I'm watching curiously, and won't be upset either way.

Biggest. ADD. Tangent. EVER!

2006-08-01T18:05:00.000-05:00

I'm back in the saddle...oh, wait...out of Texas, back to Missouri (no saddles).

I took Monday and Tuesday off to make up for working over the weekend. "A" and I were exhausted after hauling all those texts back in our bags. Our biggest challenge was disguising the fact that we (ok, I) had 3 carry-on items. She would have, except she had a bunch of random loose belongings in her hands.

Anyway, I've spent my two days off getting my life back in order. And by life, I mean the basement...and by in order, I mean my jewelry-making and crafting space. My life is more in order when I have a great studio to work in. The Boyfriend's life is in order when I have a great studio to work in - in the basement. For a period of time, I'd been dragging all my stuff in front of the TV, and then would leave it there. I think he may have broken up with me if I hadn't resolved the issue (maybe not break up with me, but he would have thrown out my jewelry-making supplies and then I'd be forced to break up with him...either way, there'd be some breakin' up).

Here's the big tangent: I started with the basement. Things were going really well. I was organizing, I was dusting, I was putting everything in a logical place. Oh wait, that desk is kind of dull and boring. I think I'd be WAY more creative if I made the desk prettier.

The desk in question is a hulking gray beast that my Uncle J (actually my father's uncle, and my Godfather...a fabulous bachelor creature that's in his 90's and eats pancakes in the middle of the night) used at the block plant long before I was around. My dad had a hard time getting rid of it, so, as many things my parents can't part with...it ended up in my basement.

Ok, so dull, boring...I'll paint it! That's a splendid idea. I took the handles off, dragged everything to the back yard, and primed them. A coat of glossy cherry red paint followed. The handles are now black. Lovely.

Did I mention we're having a heat wave? It was over 100 degrees, and my main challenge in my painting project was the constant flow of my own sweat, which kept landing on the fresh paint. Repairs were made...still lovely. I'm painting everything but the top, which is an army green material that's kind of soft. Not really soft, but not really hard either. I'm not sure how paint would work on that...plus, I'd kind of like to leave an original feature.

I'm getting all my crafty-trinkety-jewelry-artsy-stuff away before I do the frame of the desk (I learned a valuable lesson when I spray-painted my bike in the basement...I painted everything else around it, and the floor now has unusual spots where objects served as accidental stencils).

The Boyfriend came home and instantly knew something had happened. Besides the house smelling like spray paint, he said I looked guilty. "See, I was working on my studio, and I thought that I'd like it better if...". He'd already seen the drawers propped up on bricks outside. I rationalized a little more, he smirked and mock scolded me.

I think this post will probably make my parents happy. That desk represents something special. I just needed to make it my own!

Hello From Houston!

2006-07-28T19:32:00.000-05:00

I'm not feeling as enthusiastic as the exclamation point in the title implies. My co-worker, "A", and I have had a very long day. Here was our agenda:

8 am - 10:30 am : Strategic Planning
10:30 am - 1:00 pm: Fiscal Management (eww)
1:00 pm: lunch (yes, it's true, there were no breaks in there)
2:00: Implementing Primary Care in Social Work Settings
4:30 - 6 pm: Networking with gross "heavy" appetizers

This has been a challenging leadership training to say the very least. We were flattered that we got the scholarships (plane ticket, 3 nights in the Westin, and most meals) to come in the first place - now, after the grueling pace and freezing conference room, we're feeling more trapped than flattered.

It all started when I registered us for an NMAC Leadership Training (National Minority AIDS Council). I didn't expect us to get funded because, you know, we're white and all...National MINORITY AIDS Council. I guess it is true that we serve mostly minorities. When we got the acceptance letters I'd actually forgotten about the application process back in September.

We got here yesterday, or was it a week ago...no, I think it was yesterday. Straight from the shuttle to the training. Dinner, sleep, training again at 8 am.

"A" kind of saved the day with her delightful little WonderWord puzzles that her partner, "B" clips out of the newspaper for her. We've been doing them to keep our minds active at difficult points. "A" may have more difficulty with paying attention than I do! I'll cut her a little slack, after all, I am medicated.

So now we're in the lobby, pecking away, trying to keep our eyes open. We have one more day - Grant Writing and Accessing Primary Care. I really do like the presenters, which makes it easier...and even if the long hours are killing my spirit...it's also getting me really psyched to get back and implement some of this stuff. NMAC also gave us the most useful and comprehensive collection of books for fiscal and strategic planning. The only downside is that we got it in a bag bigger than our carry-ons. Now, we have three bags on the way back - one of which contains 8 textbooks!

One interesting thing I've learned about Houston: In a mall that's reputed to be one of the largest in the country, and has it's own ice rink - NOT ONE BOOKSTORE! Strange, do Texans not read?

The Storm

2006-07-21T10:50:00.000-05:00

As most of you realize, St. Louis is now a disaster area. Wednesday night we got pounded by thunderstorms and tornadoes, knocking over 500,000 homes off the electrical grid.

I was out in the county at a meeting, but we got kicked out after the power shut off at the facility. Now, I'm horrible at math, but I calculated my chances of traveling home on the highway unscathed.

Storm in Eureka (traveling SE in my direction) X 4 miles to the interchange going 80 mph = Yeah, I can probably make it (again, my calculations are imprecise)

I began the race to the ramp, bright orange sky to my left, dark and lightening to my right...drive, drive, drive. I began anticipating The Boyfriend's lecture when I drove up. "Why would you think it's safe for you to race a storm with 85 mph winds?" I had my rebuttal all but perfected, "Because you left your cell phone in the car and I was concerned you couldn't call for help if a tree fell on you." It was a little off topic, but distracting enough to take the spotlight off me and my questionable judgement.

My hairs felt on end on the back of my neck, my adrenaline pumping...just a few more miles...scary lighting...winds...whoa - TREE!

I made it home.

The Boyfriend was sitting on the front porch watching the bolts spread like spindly fingers across the stormy sky. Instead of a lecture, he smiled, gave me a hug, and told me he was so glad I was home. Even big strong scientists like a little company during the apocalypse.

The power in the whole neighborhood was out, but the weather had cooled, so the evening was pretty enjoyable. We lit candles, played cards, read our books, and slept.

It had been an exciting, yet serene evening. We'd assess what hand we'd been dealt by the storm in the morning.

(The photos above were taken the night of the storm and posted on the stltoday.com news site. The top one was taken in my neighborhood, the bottom from Westport, which is in the county.)

Texas - Yee-Hawww!

2006-07-15T17:46:00.000-05:00

Hello, I'm in Texas and it's really hot. I'm in Hurst (between Dallas and Fort Worth) visiting my brother and sister...and apparently eating lots of food.

I got here yesterday, and for our first full day, my brother, J, took me to the place of his internship - The Cooper Institute at Craig Ranch. This place was amazing. I am not even kidding. Their philosophy on wellness, the equipment (each cardio machine had its own TV and headphones!!), the locker room...incredible. But it's for rich people, so I'll enjoy it while I'm here and head back to my substandard gym.

We went to a yoga class, which I desperately needed. I'm all cramped up looking for relaxation. This was not relaxing. This class was like a power yoga class on meth. I rolled my eyes in embarassment when I noticed my front hand quivering during warrior 2. Who'd have thought that the Texans can do yoga? Not me. My brother, who's known for his weightlifting prowess, put forth a valiant effort and did a really good job. There were a couple poses he couldn't get into, which was certainly fine with him after the teacher announced to the class, "oh, your biceps are too big to do eagle pose. The more muscular you are, the less flexible," as she gave his torso that was straining against his tight and sweaty t-shirt a once-over. I guess it was a little more than a once-over.

We were starving, but after driving 40 miles to his stomping grounds, we had to stop at his dorm room...I mean, his apartment. It was a very nice space. It's clear that he isn't staying there longer than 3 months, which is why I can excuse it's lack of decorations and organization. I'm so proud to see my baby brother (yes, the one with the huge biceps and 5 o'clock shadow) out and living on his own. What's even more exciting is to see how much he believes in the job he's doing. He lights up when he talks about the future plans of the institute. I love that all three of us are passionate at what we do.

On the road again (that phrase is an inside joke for my mom's benefit)...we stopped at IKEA (he promised to go back when he has a more permanent residence), then came home. Our domesticated sister, T, had made lunch...a lunch of crap...a lunch of my dreams! Spinach/artichoke dip, onion puffs, pasta salad...why did we work out? I guess I should be glad that I worked out to counteract a little of what we consumed.

Tonight, I think we may lie around - probably do manicures and pedicures. Tomorrow - we shop!

(Tomorrow, I wear my snappy Bush t-shirt! If I'm still alive at the end of the day, I shall provide an update.)

Never a Dull Moment...

2006-07-05T15:22:00.000-05:00

Life has been hard lately (oh waaaa, I have a house, an amazing partner, three beautiful kids...I mean cats, a job, a functional family...but sometimes life still feels a little rough).

The Boyfriend and I found the strength to "get outside ourselves" for a few hours on Friday night to go see a movie (Da Vinci code, it was far less than we'd expected). Feeling relaxed and content, after stuffing our faces with ice cream, we began our drive back to the city. We were only 10 or 12 miles out, but became worried when his dash lights started coming on...such as the battery, temperature, check engine, etc.

We drove slowly, hoping if we didn't jostle the vehicle too much we would make it home. The headlights started dimming, the dash lights blinking...complete pandemonium.

We'd just passed Plaza Frontenac (a really hoity mall), thinking it best to stay off the highway and take back roads instead. As our brilliant idea of a back road became darker, our headlights and all interior lights shut off. We had to pull to the side.

Just as we were coasting into a gated community, the engine died. You have GOT to be kidding me! If I were to be honest, which I am right now, I would admit that I sometimes judge people in the back of my mind when they randomly get stranded on the side of the road. "Be responsible, maintain your vehicle, respond to warning signs...blah, blah, squawk". Ok, folks, cars break down for real...no joke.

Back to our story...

The Boyfriend did what every person would do, he called his father. He explained the situation and got his advice. We called one of our friends, H, who agreed to leave in two minutes to retrieve us.

I thought we should be polite since we were in this hotsy-snotsy community - I took off my bottlecap necklace with the shiny shull on it, and walked up to the nearest "compound" and rapped on the gate. No answer, although I maintain to this day that I saw a shadowy figure lurking behind the flowing drapes, illuminated by the blue flicker of a TV. I left a polite note:

I apologize for the inconvenience. Our car broke down at the end of your driveway. We will have it towed tomorrow (7/1). Carolyn (and left my phone number)

I walked back to the car and The Boyfriend and I sat inside, alternating between giggling, "I can't believe this happened", and outbursts of anger.

And then the police showed up.

The squad car pulled behind us and kept his lights on the back of our vehicle (we were hoping he wouldn't notice the expired plates). I bounced out, as I usually do, knowing that men are perceived as more of a threat than women, and not feeling submissive enough to wait patiently in the car to be approached (my brother-in-law would hate that...he's a police officer).

I told him our car broke down and we were waiting for a ride. He was very polite, admitted it was a strange place to park and make out, took down The Boyfriends info, and drove down the road (undoubtedly to calm the chicken shit in the fancy house that called them in the first place). Seriously, if we were any race but white, we'd have been chin deep in finely fertilized and manicured grass.

H showed up, we got home. Tired, frustrated. The Boyfriend called CarX in the morning and had it towed...they put in a new alternator and it was approximately one million dollars once the labor was included.

A Couple Thoughts:
1. Always have friends that are willing to come get you at 11:00 at night.
2. Be sure to pay attention to all blinky and flashy lights inside the vehicle.
3. We'd have been in a WORLD of inconvenience if the lovely Z hadn't called us to volunteer his Blazer for our use while he and M were out of town. That was so generous...it felt great to be able to get groceries and not be stranded and foodless.
4. I feel really butch in a Blazer.

I got my LSAT scores

2006-06-29T22:36:00.000-05:00

I got my LSAT scores back. They were not stellar. I’m not sure what this means as far as applying to law school…but I’m not feeling very well. So, this is my official notice that I probably won’t be bouncing around announcing my score. I really just don’t feel like talking about it.

I'm Surrounded By Stars

2006-06-27T14:24:00.000-05:00

Recently, it seems that everyone around me is tremendously talented, or at the very least, very active. I've been bombarded by published photos of people I know who are participating in different events.

The first one to surface was of The Boyfriend's mother, we'll call her "Stella". She participated in the Senior Olympics in the Florida Community that she and The Boyfriend's father live (we don't have a name for his dad yet...we'll see). She won the Gold medal in the 5k race/walk with a time of 33:45, and Bronze in the 5k run with a time of 30:04. These races were 30 minutes apart. Honestly, I'm not sure I could have (ok, I KNOW I couldn't have) even finished both of these events. To the right is a picture of her in the race/walk...I can assume this may be her leading the pack, as this is the event she won the Gold.

Then my sister told me about my brother-in-law, E, participating in the Texas Police Games (I don't think it's a good idea of me to post a picture of him...that whole law enforcement thing...ya never know if I could compromise him in some way). I hate to admit it, but I NEVER tire of saying "it's kind of like the Special Olympics, but with guns". I realize what it actually is - a group of very fit law enforcement officers battling it out, and taking a lot of pride in their medals (they take so much pride when they make a drug bust, I can't imagine what a medal in the games would mean).

And then there's "A", my friend at work. She's on the front cover of the Vital Voice this month to promote the Gay Games in Chicago in July. You can't see the picture very well, but she's kneeling down in an orange jersey (below Morgan Fairchild...I'll talk more about her in a later post...she was the Grand Marshall at our PRIDE parade...but I never found her, I really wanted to meet her). From what I understant, "A's" team is a pretty athletic group that has a good chance for stardom at the Gay Games.

The one word all these events make me think of is "belonging". We form groups and teams, then compete in them to build connections. We feel like we have something in common with these other people, and feel proud to be associated with them. It makes me feel good that I'm surrounded by people who seek these relationships, because I require these same types of interactions. I NEED to be a part of a group that makes me feel like I'm not a reject. Now, I may not fit every group, but I have my cozy groups that are vital for my happiness.

Sadly, the only published picture of me last month was in St. Louis Home, a "society" magazine. E called me to say, "How did you end up in St. Louis Home?!?! You're not "society"". To which I responded, "Girl, I'm so NOT "society" that I AM "society"".

The Block Plant

2006-06-22T21:17:00.000-05:00

Growing up, I always felt really proud that my father worked at a block plant. I'm not sure I've ever mentioned that to him, but I think part of what I liked about it was that I had a great place for exploring. Now, I wasn't given too much freedom to explore...this is the kind of place that men lose fingers and crush limbs.

It started when I was really young. I may have been the only kid I knew to climb to the top of a giant sand pile. At the time, it seemed to be as big

as the factory...huge. I doubt it was all that I'd imagined it to be.

As I grew older, I pictured myself working there...carrying a lunch pail, my mom packing an insulated canteen with warm soup, a hard hat with my last name on it, light blue chambray buttoned down shirt with my name embroidered on the pocket, dusty shoes at night. Even though my dad works in an office crunching numbers, he still gets plenty of time to wander around the machinery if he chooses.

During one summer while I was in college I actually worked there for a bit. My memory is a little sketchy, I can't remember how long I was there or if I did a good job (or really what I did for that matter...I know I was at a desk), but it felt good to be a part of it.

Did I mention my grandfather and godfather build the plant? It always felt like a family legacy. Even after they sold to a larger operation, my dad stayed on, and the new company still felt like family...most of them had known me as a small child. The company is small, but it allows for moving up the ladder in surprising ways. This last year, my dad passed a couple tests to elevate him to quite a skilled level in his field.

Anyway, the whole point of this post is that I got to do something that I've always wanted to do, and always thought I would do at some time...I took some pictures in the plant. My dad was showing around The Boyfriend, explaining the different processes, and I moved around snapping black and whites with my camera. There were so many cool angles and variances in lighting. Most of the pictures are uninteresting...but some are really stunning to me.

Stunning might be a strong word for it, but for me, the photos represent adventures in my childhood.

The LSAT

2006-06-16T10:33:00.000-05:00

I hated it.

I got to Forest Park Community College around noon, ready to take this damnable test. I got in last minute calls to my mom and The Boyfriend, then started eating Sprees to calm me down (most people are not aware that on most occasions, I have a roll or two of Sprees in my purse...mmm, candy).

The proctors were Ms. Crabby McCrabberson and Ms. Snotty O'Snottyhan. They yelled, sighed, rolled their eyes and said we were not allowed to leave the room to go to the bathroom..."you're not children, you can hold it". That's what they thought (not the part about not holding it, the part about us not being children).

I don't believe they were prepared for the childlike discord that broke out after they took away everyone's non-beeping timepieces. The rules said they were allowed, but Ms. McC chose to go against the rules. We (and by we, I mean the people whose watches/timers had been snatched out of their sweating hands...I was not one of those people because that's just one more thing to keep track of) hooted and hollered that their rights were being infringed upon. She wasn't hearin' it. When she got to a section detailing that WE WERE entitled to them, and some test-takers asked for them back, she responded with, "Go get them? Oh, I can't leave you in here unattended". Did she understand that she was surrounded by 40 wannabe attorneys? She had a hard time from then on out.

Ok, so my personal experience. I was seated next to a man that weighed around 300 lbs. (no joke, that's not an exaggeration), he had problems breathing. During the entire test he sounded like a cross between snoring and an asthma attack. Occasionally I looked over just to make sure he didn't have his hands around his neck to signal that he couldn't breath. To my right was some spazzy kid who got yelled at for wearing headphones and was tapping his pencil on his foot. I wanted to put my hands around HIS throat to MAKE SURE he couldn't breath.

But I have to tell you, with all the chaos and confusion, I got kind of relaxed. I'd had a minor asthma incident before going in, but watching Ms. McC grapple with 22-year-old snotty college kids kind of got my mind off what I was there for. My breathing regulated, I relaxed (meaning I stopped tapping my pencil on my foot).

The test itself was horrific. We didn't start until 1:35 (we were scheduled to start at 12:30) and got out at 6:00 pm. By then, The Boyfriend was blowing up my phone trying to find out where I was (I'd casually told him I'd be out by 3 or 3:30). He was worried that I hadn't felt good about my performance and was off by myself feeling sad. He's so cute. :)

Afterward, I felt terrible about how I'd done...until I found out the ungraded experimental section was Section #2 (I'd guessed on 15 out of 25 on that part). Woo-hoo!

So now I've downloaded applications to Washington University and Saint Louis University. I haven't looked into when I'll get my test score, the importance of it kind of slipped away. I know my grades/scores won't be what get me in either of those schools...it's all about the personal statement. This personal statement is going to have to knock them over...and it will.

What I Want To Be When I Grow Up

2006-06-11T11:31:00.000-05:00

When I was a kid, I think I had a pretty clear vision of "what I wanted to be when I grew up". I don't know if I articulated it to my parents and teachers, or if I put an appropriate picture on it to go undetected as a freakshow.

There are three things I remember wanting to become. The first is a dinosaur (actually a brontosaurus). If I'd thought it through a little more, I'd have realized that brontosaurus' are really fat and have big asses. That's the exact opposite of where I would have wanted to be as an adult. They seemed pretty peaceful, had graceful necks, and I think I appreciated that they were studied and had a place in history (yes, I did think like that when I was young, creepy).

The next thing I wanted to be was Joan Jett. That's obviously not an option, probably less likely than a dinosaur (my ass has gotten to giant creature-like proportions at different points in time). Joan Jett is way too cool for me to emulate (and I've tried "living like a rock star" at different points in time and it didn't go so well). Jett has her own place in history that I respect. She was a hard rockin' female at a time when there weren't too many to choose from. She was and is known for her skill on the guitar, as well as for just not caring if boys like her or not.

With these first two options unrealistic, I defer to my third: to be an attorney. And so the time has arrived, the LSAT is tomorrow. I'm nervous, scared, and disbelieving that I actually took some action towards making that dream come true. I studied all day Friday, all day (and night) yesterday, and today I am doing whatever I want to do. So far, that's meant downloading Joan Jett and other 80's techno remixes.

Seems the whole Joan Jett thing is coming full circle.

Are We Still Trying to Ban Gay Marriage?

2006-06-03T11:43:00.000-05:00

And by "we", I mean President Bush.

"Ages of experience have taught us that the commitment of a husband and a wife to love and to serve one another promotes the welfare of children and the stability of society," Bush said in his Saturday radio address. "Marriage cannot be cut off from its cultural, religious and natural roots without weakening this good influence on society."

I’m no scholar of religion, and I’m certainly not regularly involved in debates concerning gay marriage (mostly because EVERYONE around me is supportive of same sex unions), but this seems like such a non-issue when we’ve got soldiers dying in Iraq, whole families being gunned down in Indiana, and Oprah hunting down pedophiles (Oprah really has nothing to do with the gay marriage issue, but it seems crazy to me that a TV personality is being more proactive than our government in stalking these predators).

If one were to break down the quote above, it’s so easy to argue against it.

"Ages of experience have taught us that the commitment of a husband and a wife to love and to serve one another promotes the welfare of children and the stability of society,"

My Thoughts: I would like to see cited documentation as to where these “ages of experience” are coming from. We can’t say that opposite sex unions are more loving and successful for raising children. I’m not aware of any research that proves children are worse off having two mommies or two daddies. I do, however, know of plenty of same sex couples that have gone to great lengths to adopt children who needed homes. I’ve also watched these adoptive parents take care to ensure their kids are confident in who they are, aware of their family structure, and surrounded by like-minded kids at school. I’m sure this happens, but when’s the last time you saw a same sex couple being charged for child abuse, or going on a killing spree…or even was charged with sexually abusing children? Again, I’m sure this happens, but it’s not the majority of news stories out there.

I grew up in a loving and functional family with two parents that raised three children that are productive members of society. They are a good example of marriage working. But everyone knows that I could have just as likely come from a broken family…statistics give marriage less than a 50% chance these days. Would I have been better in a single parent home, or one with two loving parents, regardless of their genders?

"Marriage cannot be cut off from its cultural, religious and natural roots without weakening this good influence on society."

My Thoughts: Marriages “natural roots” come from religion. We supposedly have a separation of church and state. Religious issues really shouldn’t have a bearing on social policy, although most in this administration have religious motivations behind them. When I think of “weakening this good influence on society”, it makes me think of domestic abuse (which also happens in same sex couples…but it’s also VERY common in opposite sex couples). Being married does not decrease a man/woman’s propensity towards violence on their partner. It doesn’t make them a better person. It also doesn’t make their relationship any more valid.

Bush said the amendment would fully protect marriage from being redefined, while leaving state legislatures free to make their own choices in defining legal arrangements other than marriage.

Well that’s very generous of our fearless leader, he’s letting states define legal arrangements…well there are already legal ways of protecting assets and partner rights, such as living wills and power of attorney. He just doesn’t get it.

I realize I’m not someone who’s personally affected by these laws, but if I were, this would feel really insulting. By saying, “would fully protect marriage from being redefined”, he makes it sound like it’s a club for the cool kids. Why is it so wrong for two men or two women to have their love legitimized? If it were truly an issue of “defining legal arrangements”, this wouldn’t be such a big deal. But the way this issue has been repeatedly presented seems as though Bush is threatened by acknowledging that same sex couples could ever begin to feel as deeply, or as committed as an opposite sex couple.

I’m hoping this agenda is stalled until he goes away. His presidency is a period where battles need to be carefully chosen…hopefully we have someone around the bend that will value all Americans, and the freedoms that are supposed to be available for us all…regardless of whether we live as he does or not.

I'm a Grilling Maniac, and The Boyfriend Encourages Stray Cats to Sh*t In Our Bushes

2006-05-29T22:18:00.000-05:00

A short one about my grilling exerience this evening.

It was not relaxing, and did not feel like the "Great American Pastime". Wait, is grilling the pastime? Or is it baseball? I guess I always assumed it was grilling...we're all so fat, it would seem we're doing more grilling than running of the bases, right?

Anyway, so I started the charcoal. I went out with the ground beef and brats...and the fire was out. It seemed the greedy flame had burned all the lighter fluid and then took a nappity nap. I did what any smart and rational griller would do - I doused the briquettes in white gas, which I would use to "spin fire" under normal conditions, and I lit it.

I LIT IT INTO A FIREBALL OF DEATH!

My person remained intact, the wind took the flames in the opposite direction.

I went back out and put the meat on the grill. They burst into flames. Back in the house.

I went back out and put them on again.

I could barely manage to move them around because the fire was so freaking hot. I fumbled with the two burgers, and wiggled the three brats...abort! Abort! We have a casualty...one of the brats has fallen on the patio into a pile of grass clippings! (I rinsed it off...by the time I eat it I'll have forgotten all about it).

The Boyfriend's turn: Salmon for the week. He put it on the grill of death and destruction...and dropped one of the filets into the coals (he called it, "pulling a Carolyn", although I personally don't feel like this one-time dropping of the brat can be a defining moment).

So, he did the only thing a REALLY smart person would do...he put it in the bushes in the front yard where we're trying to get the stray cats to stop sh&*#ing! When I saw starving cats eating grass in the winter, I put some food on the curb, not near the outside litter box of landscaping rocks!

He told me about his massive misplacement of the fish, and we went to see X-Men 3 (with him promising to move it to the alley when we got home, probably KNOWING it would be in the belly(s) of some cat(s)).

We came home...and it was gone, skin and all. I'm sure they'll return when it's worked it's way through their digestive systems...coming full circle into our front lawn for me to run over with the lawn mower.

Note: The Boyfriend put up a tiny bit of a fight for this story to be published (because seriously, I would never write about something he asked me not to). He consented on the grounds that I also mention my "paint chip project". We're going to paint our kitchen, and we need to agree on a color. So, I taped a bunch of chips to the wall, and when we like one, I suggested we initial it. He thinks this is ridiculous and anal retentive (which, knowing me, it most likely is). He feels as though with only two people, the initialing process is super stupid and an "x" would suffice. But what if I "x" one and then forget I did it and mark it again? Why can't we do initials? Anyway, that's my system, I'm not embarassed by my craziness...embrace the crazy. And definitely go see X-Men 3 (which should really be called X-Women since all the badasses are female).

The Boyfriend In: The Case of the Missing French Press

2006-05-29T09:54:00.000-05:00

The Boyfriend received a French Press coffee maker from my parents for Christmas. Since the holiday, this present has definitely stood out as one of his favorites (with the exception, perhaps, of the Cuisinart coffee bean grinder that I gave him to accompany the press).

He delights in finding new coffee shops to get locally sold bags of crack cocaine...er, I mean coffee beans (coffee is his crack, unless there's chocolate around...but strangely enough, I don't think I've ever witnessed him ingesting both at the same time).

Since December, he's regularly arisen, kind of crabbed around sleepily, and tinkered with his "coffee laboratory". He's got his own process, and when I make coffee, he'll pause, assess the accuracy of my methods, perhaps question it for a moment, and then, "oh, right right right, you push the coffee DOWN, while I stir mine". Peace and unity are restored.

And just as joyfully it came into his life...it was gone.

He paced around the house, all the cupboards open, as if to demonstrate to me that all his options were explore.

"Did you check in the backyard?" I ask. "I know you watered the plants with it this morning."

"Yes, I checked outside, it's not there." Slumped shoulders, slight frown.

"Did you look downstairs? You were looking for more seeds, perhaps you took it downstairs by accident?" I felt genuine pain seeing him this sad over his missing toy, as though it were a new toy fire engine.

"No, I didn't take it downstairs."

I didn't want to press him too hard, this was a difficult topic. I quietly checked downstairs, and then did the only thing I could...I went to work.

With the carafe gone for a week, his melancholy had only gotten worse. True, he was participating in life regularly (because that would be really lame if his missing press were to induce life altering depression...we'd have far bigger issues if that were the case), but he occasionally brought up his missing object of affection.

I plotted to sneak to Bed, Bath and Beyond to rebuy it as a surprise. Kind of a variation on the whole child's fish dying and parents replacing it with one that looks the same so the kid doesn't have to experience loss (I don't endorse this approach...let the kid lose something, they're not that fragile...but I digress).

The Boyfriend walked over to the rack where we hang our pots, he grabbed one and started laughing. There, wedged into the stainless steel sauce pan, was the lost French Press. It had been hiding there for a week!

I'm wondering if it was just hanging out, biding it's time, trying to make sure it wasn't being taken for granted. We'll never know for sure how it got there (we've both blamed each other).
One thing I can say with certainty: the coffee this morning tasted extra good.

Two People I Love

2006-05-22T22:39:00.000-05:00

I'm not going to write too much about these photos. I took both of these at the CF walk and they're two of my favorite people. When I look at these two pictures I just really "feel" it for some reason.

On the left is The Boyfriend. I like how he's propped up on his elbows. He lies that way a lot when we're in bed talking, giggling, talking about our days, etc. I also like how his brow is crinkled...definitely one of those things that I find endearing about him.

Yeah, pretty much this photo makes me think of good times I've had with him, it reminds me of the friendship and intimacy we have in our relationship.

(He's going to be mad I posted this...he hates any picture that's taken of him, and to be honest, his brow was probably crinkled because he was trying to get us to stop taking his picture).

The picture to the right is M. She and I have been best friends for 5 years. We met when we were both at difficult points in our lives, trying to make transitions into being adults (even though by legal standards we already were). We grew as people and as friends, with our relationship strengthening as much as our characters as strong, mature women.

This picture reminds me of when we first met at a Labor Day picnic those five long years ago. It's hard to believe that much time has gone by. For me, this image captures her elegance, charisma, and playfulness...all the things I love about her.

Her little smile looks mysterious, like she's up to something...which she usually is.

Cystic Fibrosis Walk

2006-05-22T22:04:00.000-05:00

How better to feel like you belong to something greater than yourself, than by walking for a charitable cause. And, by being a part of a really enthusiastic team...with really cool team t-shirts.

As I posted a couple weeks ago, The Boyfriend and I were on team "Charlie's Angels".

We awoke at the crack of dawn (ok, 7:00 am...but we were up kind of late and it felt really early). L came over and we picked up E (thank goodness). Seriously, if E were not in the group, we would have NEVER made it to the walk. The Boyfriend, L, and I were all a little wilted, and none of us had thought to print out directions to Fenton Park.

After stopping at Quick Trip for L (coffeeCOFFEEcoffee!!), we arrived and found out the walk didn't start until 10 am...we got there at 8:15!! We could have slept longer. More sleep. Less wakey. Sad.

I'll bypass all the parts where we lounged on the grass and complained...because that really doesn't make us seem like very giving people...but we were sort of joking (sort of).

We spent most of our time scoping out the teams that could be our biggest threat. Were they able-bodied? Young? Were their t-shirts as cool (NEVER)? How about their numbers...did they have more people than us? Shall we take out the "I Love Allison" team first? Or perhaps the posse in the lime green shirts? Again...not very good-hearted, but it did pass the time.

We also passed time by teasing the team leader, J. It's not funny that she had to have surgery for a herniated disk today...but it was a little funny that she had to rent a scooter for the walk (I dubbed it the Rascal, after seeing them on a TV infommercial). We decided we'd make more money if we used her as our mascot, instead of the rowdy and bubbly Charlie. J was wearing a hat that had "Cancer Sucks" embroidered on it, was riding the Rascal, and had a blanket on her lap. We could have fundraised for her and made much more loot.

All teasing and joking aside, we had a really good time. Charlie's Angels won for most money raised online. We had the largest team (at least the largest with matching shirts), and we seemed to have a lot of fun...which is all the really matters.

And now, I'd like to say thank you to my beautiful sponsors:
Thank you to my family: My parents (who I can always count on for support), my sister T (the guest writer on my blog), The Boyfriend's parents (who came out of nowhere! Actually, I ratted out The Boyfriend. I called them and mentioned the walk because I didn't think he had. They were relieved I'd intervened and jumped in a day before the walk to help him reach his goal. I told them not to mention to him I'd called, then ratted MYSELF out after I'd been around him for 3 minutes - that's typical).
Thank you to the lovely L from Seattle.
I would also like to add a shout out to my peeps at work: B, C (who's freakishly intelligent), and A (thanks for doubling your donation when I was sad that I wouldn't meet my goal). And a special thank you to C at the Missouri Department of Health and Human Services (she sent a check with a couple sharps containers).

Go team.

More Trouble Than I Expected

2006-05-22T18:08:00.000-05:00

Ok, so the roses being delivered was really funny for about 5 minutes.

Since then, I've set a professional boundary with the person that sent them, and have been deluged with creepy voicemails and calls to the front desk asking if I'm there (only to get mad and hang up when they've repeatedly told him I'm not in). Our agency security plan has been helpful, and my co-workers and volunteers have been tremendously supportive.

I really thought this would blow over quickly. I've never had anything this serious happen before, but it may actually be a good experience in the long-run. I had no idea I could feel this scared by someone. The most important thing in this whole situation is that I need to feel empowered, and not let this change living my life everyday. But it kind of is changing it...

I feel fear for the first time in quite a while. We're pretty sure it's only a matter of time before he shows up at the office. We have a plan for that, but my main concern is if he follows me home and figures out where I live. I feel safe with The Boyfriend following me to work and someone walking me down when I leave...but if he figures out where we live...that will REALLY put a damper on me feeling secure.

So, I feel really passive just waiting for him to spring up, but there is a certain chain of command...and "A" (my co-worker that's been handling everything and has been INVALUABLE) and I are chain of command followers.

At this point, after having to screen my calls and watching my back when in the reception area, I'd really like to just give him the big F%#* you. I hate being controlled by fear.

Fear is ugly.

I Have a Big Fat Round Face

2006-05-22T18:02:00.000-05:00

I hesitated to share the link of a news story that I was interviewed for, mostly because I have a big, fat, round face. Yes, the camera added about 10 pounds JUST on my face. I really wish they hadn't used the term, "ready for my close-up" literally. Maybe if I didn't gesture with my hands when I speak so much, they wouldn't have shot only my big fat head.

But seriously, Channel 11 did a really good job not editing our interviews to misquote us or take our comments out of context (that happens really often). The story was done in a manner that will probably only benefit the agency.

Is my voice really that low and scratchy?

(click the title to go to the website, then click "watch")

Crazy Cat Lady

2006-05-21T21:59:00.000-05:00

I'm lame...so so lame. I haven't posted anything about the kitties lately, and my family hasn't seen our baby, Tiger (plus, it was bath day for Luna yesterday...and who doesn't like to see a crabby old cat with wet fur?).

The first picture is a black and white of Luna sleeping on my pillow. It seems Luna and Jack take turns napping there...and I end up with fur in my mouth when I'm in bed. She looks, peaceful, sweet, and serene...but don't be fooled...her aged skeleton covered in fur is fueled by spite and loathing. And don't be fooled by my tone...her hateful disposition is delightful.

The second is of Jack and Luna curled up together on our bed. I've always gotten the feeling they spring into cute action when we leave the house, saving all the hissing and fighting for when we get home. We happened to catch them in the act this time.

The third is of Tiger lounging under the futon in the office. He's a cave dweller and can usually be found under or in something. When I'm at the computer he's usually lying somewhere in close proximity.

The next one is of Tiger looking over his shoulder. We found out the last time we were at the vet that he may have an enlarged heart, indicating possible heart disease. I never could have imagined how attached I could get to an animal...much less a cat! Drama! Ultimately, instead of putting him through test after test and medication, we decided to treat him if anything happens. He's only a year and a half, maintaining his quality of life is what we're most concerned about...and carting him to the vet more isn't going to make his life better. He's never been symptomatic, so we're hoping for the best. My heart will BREAK if something happens to him...children aren't suposed to die before their parents...I'm expecting him to be alive for DECADES!

And here come the photos of wet Luna. She's pretty old, most likely around 16 or 17. She's definitely begun to let herself go. She hasn't been cleaning herself the way she usually would...and she's only able to con one of the boys into doing it for her on occasion. Plus, if you smelled her breath...I think she hid a dead mouse in there, it smells like death...you'd know that her tongue probably isn't doing a very good job of cleaning. So, I took her to the tub, soaped her up, and tried to ignore her cries of anguish. But seriously, you can look at the little thing the wrong way and she makes sounds of misery. I needed a little help from The Boyfriend, he has more experience with her theatrics. Poor, wet, little Luna. In the picture on the left, you can almost feel her hate penetrating your soul.

Thumb

2006-05-17T10:06:00.000-05:00

Thumb
By Carolyn's Sister, "T"

“No, I don’t want to go to sleep!” she cried. The she I’m talking about is my big sister Carolyn. As they do every Friday night, my parents are trying to get us to stay in bed so they can watch their weekly TV shows. As Carolyn and I try to hunker down, I can’t help but scooch over to her side. That’s just how I am; the cuddly type. Carolyn, on the other hand, likes her space! “Okay,” she says to me with a bit of frustration in her voice, here is the line. She draws an imaginary line down the center of the bed. “You can’t cross it!” Yeah right, I think to myself, that’s too good of a challenge to turn down. So, I do what every person in my situation does…I slowly, yes, very slowly scoot my body closer and closer to Carolyn. “Mom! She’s too close AND she’s sucking her thumb!” Oh great, another night of bliss is about to be destroyed by the bain of my short existence…Thumb!

In case you don’t know what I’m talking about, Thumb is this clear liquid that comes in a little glass jar. Yes, it all sounds very innocent. But just wait until you have to put it on your thumb and let it harden. It tastes like fingernail polish remover. So, as I’m laying there with this awful Thumb on my thumb, I’m thinking through every possible way to get rid of this stuff so I can suck my thumb again (let’s face it, at six years of age, there aren’t a whole lot of options. The idea to get out of bed and rinse my thumb off in the bathroom sink never crosses my mind).

As usual, Carolyn has no problems falling asleep. Before I know it, my thoughts of removing the Thumb are interrupted by a very familiar sound. I look over and gaze at Carolyn, and the slobbery, snoring monster she has now become. As if by magnetic force, my hand is drawn to the monster. Slowly but surely, my arm stretches out and crosses the imaginary center line. “Whew, no alarm went off,” I whisper to myself with a grin. The force continues to pull my arm toward it, and then lowers it toward its final destination…Carolyn’s mouth! In it goes, where it finally lands on her slippery, slimy tongue. Even though I am very grossed out, I remind myself what my ultimate goal is; to get my thumb safely back into MY mouth (minus the Thumb). A few more seconds of twisting and turning my now very moist thumb on Carolyn’s tongue, and that should do it, I think to myself thankfully. Great! Now it’s time to make the exit.

By now, Carolyn’s snoring has stopped and her body is slowly turning towards the outside of the bed. I pull my arm out and wipe my thumb off with my blanket. After all, I don’t need any slobber, just a Thumb free thumb. “Mission accomplished,” I whisper, while happily putting my thumb into my own mouth.

Carolyn didn’t realize a thing…so I thought! It turns out, the next morning when we woke up, Carolyn mentioned a really strange taste she had in her mouth. All I know is that I slept really well last night!

A Note From Carolyn: After reading this story again, I'm not sure I should have published it. I really don't sound all that cute as the slobbering monster.

The Vase

2006-05-16T22:26:00.000-05:00

I wasn't sure if I was going to write about this or not - mostly because it's awkward and uncomfortable.

Ok, so basically, through NO FAULT OF MY OWN, two dozen long-stemmed roses and a stuffed bear were delivered to me at my office. The note said something about "Thanks for everything, call me soon". The awkward part is that they were not from The Boyfriend (thank goodness...anyone that knows me AT ALL would know that I wouldn't be into such a gross overcompensation. I'm more of a colorful wild flower girl).

They were actually from someone I'd come in contact with through work (I have to be kind of vague on this part). He also happens to be a world boxing champion. Basically, I think this person has been training in St. Louis, and may have misconstrued my helpfulness for something more. Since I maintain strict professional boundaries, I've felt innocent during this whole debacle.

From the very beginning of this charade, I kept The Boyfriend abreast of the situation...from the creepy phone message, to the request that I call said creeper after I get "a package". The package was worse than I'd expected, to say the least. The volunteers at the front desk were oohing and ahhing over them as I came out. I groaned, "No, no, no...oh man, no".

I told The Boyfriend immediately...these types of things are best kept in the wide open! He laughed with me (nervously) and said he was willing to fight for my honor (yes, let's all recall he is a scientist...a very sexy one, but a fighter he probably is not. But what more could I ask for, he vowed to "bloody this dudes fists and become one beat-up little white guy". My hero). Ok, for real, he's not a fighter, and I wouldn't be with someone that is. He responded exactly the way I'd hope my partner would respond...with patience, humor, and a tiny bit of jealousy. :)

I did the only thing that I could do (besides call the flower sender and very specifically set a boundary...which I did). I had to turn the ugly situation into an inside joke between me and The Boyfriend...something that we'll look back on and laugh. I made a new card that read,

"Dear The Boyfriend (but with his real name), Congratulations on getting a post doc position in Dr. Insert name's lab. I'm so proud of all your hard work and look forward to spending the rest of our lives together. Love, Carolyn"

A co-worker, C, and I sped to The Boyfriend's office, raced to the lab, and deposited the flowers-of-all-that-is-unpure with his advisor...quickly asking him to deliver them to him.

He called my cell phone before I could get out of the building. I told him we were making our escape, then waited for him to come downstairs to give me a hug. Some of the women at work thought it was a risky move. They felt it would rub it in his face. But they don't know him.

His response? "Well played. And hey, I kind of like the vase...can we keep it?"

And that, my friends, will be the vase that we giggle over each time it comes out for flowers out of our yard. That will be the vase that I regifted flowers to The Boyfriend in.

Whirling Dervish

2006-05-15T23:22:00.000-05:00

There were two things I really wanted to accomplish over the weekend - besides buying a car and studying. 1. Weed and feed the yard. 2. Plant the hanging flower baskets for our front porch.

I did neither.

I did, however, come home tonight after going to the gym and spun into a frenzy. I potted the baskets, and ran the Blue Devil fertilizer spreader over the lawn (it's my Dad's old one...and invaluable).

My Dad had trained me well...reminding me over the years (each and every year) of the best circumstances for fertilizing. Apply after a light rain, or, lightly mist the lawn first. Put it on when it won't rain for at least 24 hours, or it will wash it away.

It's been raining lately, and the lawn looked perfectly dewy to accept the white flecks of poison that would chase away our dandelions and creeping charlie. I looked on cnn.com - a clear forecast. I rushed outside cheerily, workout clothes still on, and when I came back in I felt satisfied that I'd gotten these things completed. I relaxed on the couch, excited to tell my Dad of my success.

Thirty minutes later - it stormed.

Gift Made By The Devil

2006-05-15T21:01:00.000-05:00

There once was an intern at my agency named P.

P was delightful - intelligent, funny, and after my supervision of her ended - we actually became friends (not that we weren't while we worked together, but it just seems more appropriate to call us friends now). We touched base from time-to-time, had lunch, etc.

P is going off to medical school (she is a total rockstar in school...I hope a tiny bit of her rubs off when I go back to school). And today, she came to the office and dropped a gift upon me that was so evil, so decadent, that The Boyfriend and I have thrown ourselves on it like Luna (our old, bitter bitter kitty) on a misplaced chicken carcass.

In all honesty, The Boyfriend didn't dive head first into it like I did. First, I coerced a practicum student, Z, into splitting a chunk of chocolate heaven at the office. Then, while I showed The Boyfriend all the delightful boxes (and yes, the instrument of dispair that she gave me looks like the deliciousness to the right), I opened all of them and tried a little from each. After dinner we shared something...and then I skulked into the office and I shoved a whole bag of caramel corn down my face.

Did I mention she also gave me a book of LSAT practice tests? While not delicious, it was very thoughtful.

A New Car For Me

2006-05-13T22:20:00.000-05:00

This post will definitely be the dorkiest post I've ever written (maybe...I think I may have written about my beading and jewelry-making...that may be dorkier). I promise you, there will be plenty of pictures of my new vehicle that may bore you beyond reason.

Our day started out early, mine more than The Boyfriend's (his started after I made his mating call...the sweet sound of the coffee grinder). We hit the road and established a strategy. Basically, he'd follow my lead. I wasn't sure if I was going in as Go-Go Girlpower, or maybe I'd present as flaky and unsure of myself...only to whollup them with a heavy dose of "give me my car, give me what I want, and give it to me NOW...and also, if you could, at the price I demand.".

The first place was good practice. I don't remember the dudes name, but he was obnoxious. He was hyper, unfocused, and totally cheesy. I told him I couldn't spend any more time with him and walked out after he started "building" our car on the Toyota website...something I'd already done a couple nights ago on my own. Lame.

The second dealership had a salesman that had no sales skills as far as we could tell. He was nice enough, but his glazed eyes and pachouli scent indicated why he was dazed and unmotivated to show us anything. We kind of "hung out" with him, talked about a couple cars he's owned, and left. A couple more lots and we were thoroughly uninspired. Well, that's not altogether true. I was motivated by a gas guzzling Mazda 3 (24/30) and a Cooper Mini. The Boyfriend did his duty and brought me back around to the goal at hand...fuel-efficient, safe, sexy (I added that adjective to the list of requirements), no high-performance tires, safe. I dubbed him Mr. Poopy-Pants. He was extremely offended and corrected me...he is to be known as CAPTAIN Poopy-Pants...the downer of all cars fun, exciting, and unpractical.

The Car
I hadn't planned on a new car...or if I did, I'd envisioned a Toyota Yaris or Honda Fit. After test driving both of those, my beloved Mazda 3, and a used Corolla...I found the one...a 2006 Honda Civic.

It's not what I thought I'd get (but not outside the realm of possibility; I do come from a Honda family and have driven an '88 Civic and '93 Accord...both fabulous cars). The miles per gallon - 33 in town and 40 on the highway (slightly better than the Honda Fit, which is a couple thousand cheaper, but MUCH less car).

The Civic was redesigned this year, with a dashboard that feels like the cockpit of a spaceship. The actual dash has two levels with blue lighting. The ride is so smooth and really tight in handling.

I hate to admit, but I added on an accessory that wasn't really necessary. I would have been safe and fuel-efficient, but would I have been a happy consumer? I think not. Even though my last vehicle was a hatchback, she was pretty sporty. The new Civic is meant to be sporty...but it screams sedan to me. So I had a spoiler put on. I'm a little embarassed even typing that, but I knew I'd come to love my replacement (that really blows my old car out of the water) in the way that I need to more quickly and intensely with this ridiculously overpriced addition.

So I figured out what I wanted. And...the dealership had none of it. Not only that, but they can't really move much on the price, because those vehicles move on their own. At the end of the day, it came down to me dropping some cash, them getting theirs, and me getting an automatic, with tan interior, in Cosmic Blue (all Captain Poopy-Pants had to say was that this color was kind of cheesy-soccer-momish and it was not an option).

Yeah, not so much. I told our salesperson my frustration, and she said that they're making an order on Monday and I could pick exactly what I want. I chose Galaxy Gray Metallic (which looks tan in the photo, but it's really more of a smoky dark gray), a 5-speed stick, with dark gray interior. This also means it will take 4-6 weeks to come in, which ALSO means The Boyfriend and I will be sharing his car for 2 weeks to a month. Interesting. It's true, we work within a half mile of each other, but I have class out in the county on Tues/Thurs, as well as a meeting every Wednesday even farther in the county. He thinks he's going to start riding my bike to work, or we'll work it all out another way.

So by the time we have a routine figured out, my car will be here. And, by that ime, I might even realize that I HAVE a new car.

Car Accident Part 2: Closure Is Near

2006-05-09T16:07:00.000-05:00

My insurance assessor finally came to his senses and made the call that my car is a total loss. I expected to feel really good about it, knowing that I could start over...and not owning a junkheap. I need to send my title, and they'll send me a check to use towards my new vehicle (it's actually enough that if I chose to, I wouldn't have to spend any of my own money...but really, how realistic is that?).

I went to the auto body place to clean out my car today. I'd forgotten how much I loved that car until I got there and saw what was left of it. When I set out to get a new car back in 2002, I knew exactly what I wanted, exactly what color. All I had to do was make the right deal. I took a friend with me to pose as either my father, brother, partner, whatever...basically he was the muscle in case I caved and couldn't walk away if I didn't get what I wanted. Driving that car home, I felt so sure that I would drive that thing into the ground. This would be the car I would drive for at least 10 years. Since I really don't WANT a different car, I'm not sure where to start. I'll post possible cars on here once I start looking.

Anyway, I've felt like I have a lump in my throat all day. I didn't go to work because my neck started throbbing yesterday, but I think I'll be ok to go tomorrow.

It's funny how fast I can sink to feeling like a deadbeat and like I'm holding people back. It's not like EFA needs me there to function, but I feel like I'm neglecting the agency and my department. I know the Boyfriend doesn't feel this way, but I've started to feel like I'm holding him back in having fun and being productive. I wouldn't want to be around me right now, why would he (again, I'm projecting...I'm quite sure he doesn't feel this way)?

In times like these, it takes all the energy I can muster up not to isolate myself from other people. It's been a while since I've felt this down, but I think I need to accept that this will happen sometimes, and it's ok for me to feel these feelings.

At least I have plenty of time to find a new vehicle. My insurance will cover the rental until May 30th. I'd hate to have to make a snap decision while I'm not feeling like myself. The Boyfriend and I are going car shopping this weekend.

I wonder how the uninsured driver that hit me is doing?

Car Accident Part 1: Bitterness

2006-05-04T16:52:00.000-05:00

A couple things. I'm not going to elaborate too much because the more I think about these things, the more my neck aches. Right now it aches aplenty.

The dude driving the Explorer that PLOWED through my little hatchback does not have insurance. He provided false proof of insurance to the police, and yeah, that sucks.

The insurance assessor feels that with $7,000 worth of damage, my car is fixable. That's going to be a sweet little pile of crap when they're done.

Yee-hawww!