If you participate in the NaNoBlogMo you know you're challenged to post a blog every single day of the month. I signed up in November and failed miserably. I really wanted to accomplish this so on January 1st I made a little pack with myself to post every day in January. I didn't sign up on NaNoBlogMo, nor did I make any public proclamation. It seems when I put anything out there publicly it's jinxed, so I kept quiet this time.
TA DA! I did it 31 days of posting something everyday!
I make no promises that I will accomplish the same over the next few months. I see a buffet of activity coming toward my proverbial plate. AUUUGGGHHH!!!! (Ha! I love being busy, don't let the whining lead you to believe otherwise).
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Saturday, January 30, 2010
Toilet Paper Changers Union #359
Obviously nobody is wiping their ass unless I refill the toilet paper roll. And while I feel like I am the only person who ever changes the toilet paper, I know that I am not traveling around the world catching ALL of the empty rolls. That means there must be a union of us doing this noble deed or else there are a whole lotta of y'alls out there using corncobs or poison ivy leaves or.... *gasp*... not... ?
Please tell me there is a union.
Please tell me there is a union.
Friday, January 29, 2010
Friday Fragments - Jan 29, 2010
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The christmas cacti in my office are blooming. Nothing like being a month late. I think last year they bloomed right after Thanksgiving and then again around Valentines Day. I'm not quite sure what that means, but there has to be a hidden meaning in there someplace.
Don't you hate those little slips from the post-office that you've missed a delivery? The only information as to WHAT it could be is a scribble with someone's last name. GAH! Now you KNOW you have something, but is it good or bad? And if it's bad, how much is it going to cost? The soonest you can find out is the next morning unless you have to go to work and then it has to wait until the weekend. THIS IS TORTURE! It is INHUMANE!
The recent craziness at work has finally settled down. I don't spend much time at my desk though as I'm covering a lot of the receptionist duties. Having a laptop makes it easier to transport my work with me so where I sit doesn't matter much. It is interesting to sit at the front of the office. You get to see a whole different aspect of office activities - sometimes it's kind of nice to be hidden in the back, completely oblivious.
On Tuesday we had snow flurries all day. By the afternoon the flakes had grown in size. They were the most humongous snow flakes I have ever seen in my life. They were the size of HAMSTERS! A coworker and I ran outside to capture snow on our tongues. Then we started batting flakes at each other. Lots of fun and who cares what people in passing cars thought????
The christmas cacti in my office are blooming. Nothing like being a month late. I think last year they bloomed right after Thanksgiving and then again around Valentines Day. I'm not quite sure what that means, but there has to be a hidden meaning in there someplace.
Don't you hate those little slips from the post-office that you've missed a delivery? The only information as to WHAT it could be is a scribble with someone's last name. GAH! Now you KNOW you have something, but is it good or bad? And if it's bad, how much is it going to cost? The soonest you can find out is the next morning unless you have to go to work and then it has to wait until the weekend. THIS IS TORTURE! It is INHUMANE!
The recent craziness at work has finally settled down. I don't spend much time at my desk though as I'm covering a lot of the receptionist duties. Having a laptop makes it easier to transport my work with me so where I sit doesn't matter much. It is interesting to sit at the front of the office. You get to see a whole different aspect of office activities - sometimes it's kind of nice to be hidden in the back, completely oblivious.
On Tuesday we had snow flurries all day. By the afternoon the flakes had grown in size. They were the most humongous snow flakes I have ever seen in my life. They were the size of HAMSTERS! A coworker and I ran outside to capture snow on our tongues. Then we started batting flakes at each other. Lots of fun and who cares what people in passing cars thought????
Thursday, January 28, 2010
The One Year Mark
I don't talk about politics a lot, usually because it turns into a pissing match and it's not worth it. But every so often I feel the need to share my opinion and after hearing the State of the Union, it's time to speak up again. A year ago I sat down and in a matter of minutes whipped out a passionate essay in support of a man poised to bring tremendous change to our country. A year ago, like many who voted him into office, I had hope. I felt it in my bones that change was coming. Yet to listen to the media, the past year has been a flop, no change has come, we're just experiencing more of the same.
I wonder if maybe the criticism is based on a lack of understanding of who this man is? While I may have been technically wrong in saying Obama isn't a Baby Boomer because he really IS a Boomer, but barely. His life experience has not been that of people five or ten years older. He has several years to go before he sees his half century mark. He grew up in a Gen X world. Boomers can claim Bush and Clinton, Xer's get Obama (and I'm sure some of you are crying big salty tears over the loss).
Maybe he should no longer be held to a Boomer standard of loud, vocal revolution and just measured for the man he is? Instead of grandstanding and crying the anthems for revolution just to settle in for more of the same, he is dedicated to actually bringing change. Boomers scream for change and then revert to doing the same ol thing. Gen Xer's buy into the change Boomers proclaim and we live for that change, and change comes forth. Boomers can claim the glory, but more often they bitch and moan about the disruption to their comfy lives. I think it's safe to say I'm calling Baby Boomers a bunch of hypocrits. Obama isn't a hypocrit. He's broken line with Boomer ideology and stands with a younger generation, a generation that knows how to live and breathe change.
The State of the Union Address should be watched again just to count how many times he said the word "reform". Obama wants nothing more than to "reform" the errors of the past. He is dedicated to reforming (and ending) a war brought by a previous administration, reform our reaction to terrorism, reform our economy, reform our education system, reform our taxes, reform our housing market, reform healthcare. "Reform" is a softer word than "revolution" but the effect and the intent is the same.
Americans are creatures that enjoy comfort and habit. We don't like change. We resist change. We fight change. And yet we celebrate a history marked with nothing but change. We've become a slumbering giant, hitting the snooze button on our alarm clock. It's time to wake up, get up and start moving once again. It is a new day.
Like it or not, change isn't coming, change is happening. It happened a year ago.
I wonder if maybe the criticism is based on a lack of understanding of who this man is? While I may have been technically wrong in saying Obama isn't a Baby Boomer because he really IS a Boomer, but barely. His life experience has not been that of people five or ten years older. He has several years to go before he sees his half century mark. He grew up in a Gen X world. Boomers can claim Bush and Clinton, Xer's get Obama (and I'm sure some of you are crying big salty tears over the loss).
Maybe he should no longer be held to a Boomer standard of loud, vocal revolution and just measured for the man he is? Instead of grandstanding and crying the anthems for revolution just to settle in for more of the same, he is dedicated to actually bringing change. Boomers scream for change and then revert to doing the same ol thing. Gen Xer's buy into the change Boomers proclaim and we live for that change, and change comes forth. Boomers can claim the glory, but more often they bitch and moan about the disruption to their comfy lives. I think it's safe to say I'm calling Baby Boomers a bunch of hypocrits. Obama isn't a hypocrit. He's broken line with Boomer ideology and stands with a younger generation, a generation that knows how to live and breathe change.
The State of the Union Address should be watched again just to count how many times he said the word "reform". Obama wants nothing more than to "reform" the errors of the past. He is dedicated to reforming (and ending) a war brought by a previous administration, reform our reaction to terrorism, reform our economy, reform our education system, reform our taxes, reform our housing market, reform healthcare. "Reform" is a softer word than "revolution" but the effect and the intent is the same.
Americans are creatures that enjoy comfort and habit. We don't like change. We resist change. We fight change. And yet we celebrate a history marked with nothing but change. We've become a slumbering giant, hitting the snooze button on our alarm clock. It's time to wake up, get up and start moving once again. It is a new day.
Like it or not, change isn't coming, change is happening. It happened a year ago.
A Change For The Ages
A Change For The Ages
Yes, folks, change has happened. Despite what the media would have you believe, it’s not that a black man has finally become an American president. The change that has occurred is a generational shift in power.
Barack Obama is not a Baby Boomer, one of those post-war children known for knocking American society and politics on its ear. No, he is a member of Generation X, the quieter, smaller, lesser known little brother of the Boomers.
Baby Boomers plowed onto the scene right from the start with a never-seen-before population explosion. They grew up during the sprawling growth and expansion of a nation recovering from war and severe depression. These were kids whose parents tried to give them every opportunity and experience possible, forming a generation that was and is self-focused and incredibly empowered. When we think of the 1960’s we think of these post-war teenagers coming of age speaking up, dropping out, and redefining every aspect of our lives. They bombarded the political scene forcing change in race relations, sexual equality, economic redistribution, environmental protection, and questioning military action. They popularized drugs and brought sexuality out from behind bedroom doors. They took already new forms of music and transformed them into their own revolutionary anthems. Absolutely nothing we know today hasn’t been touched or influenced by Baby Boomers.
So, of course, a black man coming into the White House would be the work of the Boomers, right? Maybe.
Or maybe it was only possible that such a person would come from a younger generation, growing up in the shadows of the Boomers. Barack was too young to remember or fully appreciate at the time Martin Luther King’s “I Have A Dream” speech. Barack never participated in the Summer Of Love or had a “sit in”. MLK and JFK were men of history books, not tangible memories of his own psyche. Barack, like other kids of his generation were the first target audience of educational TV – Sesame Street and Zoom. He wouldn’t remember the family’s first television, but he would remember their first color TV. Barack probably remembers seeing Neil Armstrong walk on the moon and evening news filled with violent scenes of protests and war. Barack will remember the fall from grace as a President resigned from office.
Barack grew up as part of a generation that was told, “yes you can” as the Baby Boomers fought to lift the debilitating veil of “no you won’t”. He attended multi-cultural classrooms and played co-ed sports. Girls and boys of every race succeeded and failed as individuals, not because they were defined as weaker or stronger, smarter or dumber due to physical traits. Generation X embraces people on their own merits and have never experienced glass ceilings. When X’ers encounter injustice we expect it to be beat down. No occupation or experience is off-limits to this group.
Yet when Generation X came of age their smaller numbers were inconsequential compared to the Baby Boomers. Boomers dismissed the Xers as a failed generation that couldn’t force revolution as they had. Boomers sucked the wind out of the sails and claimed all of the glory with voracious roars. This was an uneven fight. Generation X quietly purred into adulthood getting college degrees and joining the workforce. At the same time Baby Boomers finally settled down and decided to join the adult world themselves. Side by side two generations got married and spawned children. The children of these two groups, a new generation in their own right, have a lot in common with Generation X.
These kids, Generation Y, also believe the world is their oyster, theirs for the taking. They don’t understand limitations and being held back. Like the Xers they embrace the music, movies and trends of older generations, picking and choosing a hodge-podge of tastes for a very eclectic collection. There is a shared sense of experience between X and Y generations, something Boomers don’t quite understand or appreciate.
Baby Boomers grabbed the scene in 1969 and haven’t let go. In 1989 when Generation X should have taken their claim, the numbers weren’t on their side. It wasn’t until 2009, forty years later, and combining forces with their own children and those of the Boomers has Gen X finally come into their own. Electing a president from their ranks is only the beginning.
None of this is to dismiss the significance of a black man coming into office, but to Barack’s generation, that was just an eventuality. We’ve already had black senators, mayors, governors, and generals. We’ve even had a black woman be Secretary of State. Wasn’t it only a matter of time before a black man became president? By the way, Generation X also expects a woman to fill that office in the not-so-distant future.
As Boomers reach for Viagra and heating pads, Generation XY will finally have a chance to be heard, showing that change can come peacefully without being angry, revolution-driven mobs. Generation XY doesn’t discount the hard work and immense change the Boomers have brought. Women are liberated, race no longer matters, and Americans are finally able to join hands and sing Kumbaya. Well, sort of.
There is a lot of hard work ahead and a man like Barack Obama is well suited for the task. He is going to pull from his time of living in the shadows of a behemoth generation that forced change and moved our society forward, knowing that more needs to be done. It’s one thing to fight for equality, it’s another to enforce it. He knows the pain and disruption of war on our culture and will work to end it. Barack Obama is every bit a man of his generation and despite the arrogant doubts of an older generation, Yes We Can.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Squirrel Report - Jan 27, 2010
Observing squirrels seems to consume a lot of my outdoor time so maybe it's time to properly chronicle it?
Are there squirrels where you live? I had out-of-town visitors from Canada totally captivated by the squirrel antics in my yard. Can't blame them because I'm rather taken by the little suckers too. It just never dawned on me that some people might not be inundated by fluffy long tail rodents scrambling through the yard and up into the trees.
Spring is fun as the babies descend out of the nests and flip and jump and basically behave like kittens on crack. But it's not time for that. Not yet. We're still in full-on winter mode. If there are any babies in the tree tops, they are burrowed deep in the nest keeping warm.
Yesterday leaving work I saw a squirrel in the basic winter pose - ass up, foraging through lawn and flower beds.
Did you know squirrels have ADHD? Yeah, it's been diagnosed. I'm sure I read it somewhere, so it's true. if you watch them you'll understand. They start off collecting acorns and carefully storing them in the yard below. It's important to hide acorns so the jackass from the neighboring tree doesn't steal your stash. Soon they discover a faster more efficient way of getting acorns instead of running up and down trees, they start tossing them from the top of the trees. Then they discover the totally awesome sound acorns make when hitting the aluminum shed in the backyard. So then it turns into a game and not so much about collecting acorns. And then their little squirrel friends hear all the racket and try to get in on the action. An argument ensues as they chatter back and forth from different tree tops. The chatter turns to smack and suddenly one squirrel lurches at the other - good damn thing they're aerodynamic because launching from one tree to another would cause other mammals sudden death or broken bones. Not squirrels, they're badass tree jumpers.
So the other squirrel says "dude, I'm a badass tree jumper. That was a fucking FLOP." And then he lurches into another tree. The squirrels proceed to outdo each other in tree jumping, tap dancing on roofs, and running at lightening speed down tree trunks. Finally one squirrel reaches the other and he tries out his new wrestling moves. SMACK DOWN!
Acorns? Who cares? Did you see that AWESOME move????
Yeah so winter comes and humans stop leaving food in easy to access places so Mr. Squirrel resorts to eating acorns. Unfortunately once the bigass pile by the shed in the backyard is depleted (damn neighboring squirrels totally looted that pile, by the way) he's forced to look for that hidden stash. If only he could remember where he hid the acorns! Remember that awesome wrestling move? Yeah, good days. So now he's digging through the yard. It's like an Easter Egg hunt. AWESOME!
And that is why you have acorns buried in the hanging fern you brought inside three months ago. Soon tiny oak trees should be sprouting. Thank you spastic squirrels.
Are there squirrels where you live? I had out-of-town visitors from Canada totally captivated by the squirrel antics in my yard. Can't blame them because I'm rather taken by the little suckers too. It just never dawned on me that some people might not be inundated by fluffy long tail rodents scrambling through the yard and up into the trees.
Spring is fun as the babies descend out of the nests and flip and jump and basically behave like kittens on crack. But it's not time for that. Not yet. We're still in full-on winter mode. If there are any babies in the tree tops, they are burrowed deep in the nest keeping warm.
Yesterday leaving work I saw a squirrel in the basic winter pose - ass up, foraging through lawn and flower beds.
Did you know squirrels have ADHD? Yeah, it's been diagnosed. I'm sure I read it somewhere, so it's true. if you watch them you'll understand. They start off collecting acorns and carefully storing them in the yard below. It's important to hide acorns so the jackass from the neighboring tree doesn't steal your stash. Soon they discover a faster more efficient way of getting acorns instead of running up and down trees, they start tossing them from the top of the trees. Then they discover the totally awesome sound acorns make when hitting the aluminum shed in the backyard. So then it turns into a game and not so much about collecting acorns. And then their little squirrel friends hear all the racket and try to get in on the action. An argument ensues as they chatter back and forth from different tree tops. The chatter turns to smack and suddenly one squirrel lurches at the other - good damn thing they're aerodynamic because launching from one tree to another would cause other mammals sudden death or broken bones. Not squirrels, they're badass tree jumpers.
So the other squirrel says "dude, I'm a badass tree jumper. That was a fucking FLOP." And then he lurches into another tree. The squirrels proceed to outdo each other in tree jumping, tap dancing on roofs, and running at lightening speed down tree trunks. Finally one squirrel reaches the other and he tries out his new wrestling moves. SMACK DOWN!
Acorns? Who cares? Did you see that AWESOME move????
Yeah so winter comes and humans stop leaving food in easy to access places so Mr. Squirrel resorts to eating acorns. Unfortunately once the bigass pile by the shed in the backyard is depleted (damn neighboring squirrels totally looted that pile, by the way) he's forced to look for that hidden stash. If only he could remember where he hid the acorns! Remember that awesome wrestling move? Yeah, good days. So now he's digging through the yard. It's like an Easter Egg hunt. AWESOME!
And that is why you have acorns buried in the hanging fern you brought inside three months ago. Soon tiny oak trees should be sprouting. Thank you spastic squirrels.
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Traveling Together
Digging through the beach pictures I'm encountering a lot of the vacation photos. So many of these include my best friends Piranha and Booty. It got me to thinking about that first trip we took together.
We thought that celebrating our 30th birthdays should be done in Cancun. I'm not exactly sure how we came up with that exact location or who suggested it, but we latched onto it. There was some reservation, however, about the three of us traveling together. Other than weekends at grandma's house and a couple of camping trips, we hadn't vacationed as a group.
There was also the exchange student trip to Germany that Booty and Piranha took together in high school. Stories out of that jaunt weren't too encouraging as it's a damn miracle Piranha didn't come home in a body bag and Booty tossed in jail for her murder. Piranha is a babbling drunk that doesn't have the decency to passout. Booty had to punch her just to get her to shut the fuck up.
We also weren't too sure about Piranha's prima dona morning behaviors - waking up near noon, incessant showers, lots of primping and hair fussing...
And it's not all Piranha. Neither of them had traveled with me. I'm known for calling it a night long before they're ready to turn in. They're also aware of my affinity of afternoon naps. And then there's my general dumbassness... well, they're guilty of that too.
So basically we were looking at Piranha getting out of bed at noon and in an hour me wanting to take a nap. This could have been really ugly.
As daughter of the Itinerary Queen, I wanted to make sure we didn't over-schedule ourselves and genuinely were able to relax, squeeze in some unencumbered beach time.
The more we discussed it the more we were all on the same page. As for sleeping schedules and starting the day it was agreed we could easily go our separate ways. There was no need for all three of us to roll out of the room at the same time. Nor was there any issue if anyone wanted to sneak off for a nap or go to bed early.
And since none of us had ever been there before, we made no specific plans. We waited until we arrived to pick and choose what we would do. It had been previously agreed that we would only do one touristy thing a day. What or when would be decided after we landed.
It was a perfect vacation. We were restricted to two room keys unless we wanted to pay out the nose for an extra so Booty and I held tight to the keys knowing Piranha was prone to losing keys (a whole 'nuther story). But really it was perfect. We stayed up late and danced and partied. Booty and I rolled out of the room by 10am taking brunch poolside with Pina Coladas. Piranha joined us later on the beach. There was no bickering, no disagreements and unfortunately not a lot of pictures. We were busy relaxing and having fun.
We thought that celebrating our 30th birthdays should be done in Cancun. I'm not exactly sure how we came up with that exact location or who suggested it, but we latched onto it. There was some reservation, however, about the three of us traveling together. Other than weekends at grandma's house and a couple of camping trips, we hadn't vacationed as a group.
There was also the exchange student trip to Germany that Booty and Piranha took together in high school. Stories out of that jaunt weren't too encouraging as it's a damn miracle Piranha didn't come home in a body bag and Booty tossed in jail for her murder. Piranha is a babbling drunk that doesn't have the decency to passout. Booty had to punch her just to get her to shut the fuck up.
We also weren't too sure about Piranha's prima dona morning behaviors - waking up near noon, incessant showers, lots of primping and hair fussing...
And it's not all Piranha. Neither of them had traveled with me. I'm known for calling it a night long before they're ready to turn in. They're also aware of my affinity of afternoon naps. And then there's my general dumbassness... well, they're guilty of that too.
So basically we were looking at Piranha getting out of bed at noon and in an hour me wanting to take a nap. This could have been really ugly.
As daughter of the Itinerary Queen, I wanted to make sure we didn't over-schedule ourselves and genuinely were able to relax, squeeze in some unencumbered beach time.
The more we discussed it the more we were all on the same page. As for sleeping schedules and starting the day it was agreed we could easily go our separate ways. There was no need for all three of us to roll out of the room at the same time. Nor was there any issue if anyone wanted to sneak off for a nap or go to bed early.
And since none of us had ever been there before, we made no specific plans. We waited until we arrived to pick and choose what we would do. It had been previously agreed that we would only do one touristy thing a day. What or when would be decided after we landed.
It was a perfect vacation. We were restricted to two room keys unless we wanted to pay out the nose for an extra so Booty and I held tight to the keys knowing Piranha was prone to losing keys (a whole 'nuther story). But really it was perfect. We stayed up late and danced and partied. Booty and I rolled out of the room by 10am taking brunch poolside with Pina Coladas. Piranha joined us later on the beach. There was no bickering, no disagreements and unfortunately not a lot of pictures. We were busy relaxing and having fun.
Monday, January 25, 2010
TWENTY Followers
I know twenty doesn't mean squat to people with 3,000 followers, but this is rather momentous to little ol me. Maybe you'll remember when you hit the 20 mark and understand my excitement. I guess the next landmarks are 50 and 100?
One day I'll look back at this post and think, "how cute". So just pat me on the head and smile sweetly.
Thank you so much for sticking with my ramblings, it's fun to have an audience! Y'all're awesome!
(like how I broke all the rules with the double contraction? That's how we roll in the citay.)
One day I'll look back at this post and think, "how cute". So just pat me on the head and smile sweetly.
Thank you so much for sticking with my ramblings, it's fun to have an audience! Y'all're awesome!
(like how I broke all the rules with the double contraction? That's how we roll in the citay.)
Another New Blog
Okay, first I'm going to lay it all out here, a confession, I am Qoddess. I've wanted to do other blog projects besides journaling like I do here. It's important that I keep it separate from my activity here as I would like to see it take off and in a different direction - dream big, right? I'm not trying to be duplicitous, just keeping my worlds separate. I hope that makes sense and no one is offended by it.
The Qoddess site is a set of questions posted almost every day (slacked a little this weekend). Piggy-backed on that blog is a new one with blog quotes. Both of these activities are something I've done in other venues with a closer knit group of participants so it will be interesting to see how it plays out here.
I'm excited to get these rolling and finally get them out of my head! Both are interactive and hopefully everyone will enjoy playing along. I'm always open to suggestions, including criticism, so please contact me.
Without further ado - The new Quote site http://qoddessquotesblogs.blogspot.com/
The Qoddess site is a set of questions posted almost every day (slacked a little this weekend). Piggy-backed on that blog is a new one with blog quotes. Both of these activities are something I've done in other venues with a closer knit group of participants so it will be interesting to see how it plays out here.
I'm excited to get these rolling and finally get them out of my head! Both are interactive and hopefully everyone will enjoy playing along. I'm always open to suggestions, including criticism, so please contact me.
Without further ado - The new Quote site http://qoddessquotesblogs.blogspot.com/
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Teens At The Beach
As promised yesterday, I dug up some old beach pictures to inspire some warmth.
My mom and a group of her friends were hanging out at the beach (a luxury of living in Los Angeles, no?)
It looks like a lot of fun and DEFINITELY WARM!
My mom and a group of her friends were hanging out at the beach (a luxury of living in Los Angeles, no?)
It looks like a lot of fun and DEFINITELY WARM!
Saturday, January 23, 2010
23 Skidoo
Another picture from the family archives:
This is my Grandma with a man who IS NOT my grandfather! How dare her! Hussy!
Okay, actually this was probably a high school boyfriend because it was taken in Missouri before she moved to California and met my grandpa.
The guy's coat reminds me of something from the 20's... well it probably WAS from the 20's since this was taken in the mid 1930's. It might have been his father's or something.
I love all of the elements of this picture. You can tell it's cold the way they're bundled, the wind is blowing and that it's winter with no leaves on the trees. It's almost, "hurry and snap the picture it's COLD out here dammit!" The bottle of alcohol? Surely that was to warm the tummy on such a frigid day. Also it means it was post-prohibition.
The telephone pole, the white picket fence, the family dog... I always look beyond the focal point of a picture to see what's going on in the background. I like looking for cars and other details that are indicative of the time. This picture doesn't have much background, but that speaks volumes as well. My grandmother grew up in small towns surrounded by farms.
Well I need to stop looking at this picture because it's making me COLD! Maybe tomorrow I should pull out some of the beach pictures?
This is my Grandma with a man who IS NOT my grandfather! How dare her! Hussy!
The guy's coat reminds me of something from the 20's... well it probably WAS from the 20's since this was taken in the mid 1930's. It might have been his father's or something.
I love all of the elements of this picture. You can tell it's cold the way they're bundled, the wind is blowing and that it's winter with no leaves on the trees. It's almost, "hurry and snap the picture it's COLD out here dammit!" The bottle of alcohol? Surely that was to warm the tummy on such a frigid day. Also it means it was post-prohibition.
The telephone pole, the white picket fence, the family dog... I always look beyond the focal point of a picture to see what's going on in the background. I like looking for cars and other details that are indicative of the time. This picture doesn't have much background, but that speaks volumes as well. My grandmother grew up in small towns surrounded by farms.
Well I need to stop looking at this picture because it's making me COLD! Maybe tomorrow I should pull out some of the beach pictures?
Friday, January 22, 2010
Friday Fragments - Jan 22, 2010
Join Friday Fragments by clicking the button and find all of the other people doing the same thing!
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I've converted my mom to Macintosh - Yay me!!!! This was all agreed upon before Thanksgiving and I found a friend who was willing to give up his Mac for the effort (for a small price). It was my plan to finally get it set up over the weekend. The Husband suggested that we try to get it taken care of on Friday night. My mom was happy to have it and took us out to eat (yay, free food).
It's a good thing we did the set up on Friday as Saturday I was stricken with the plague. My other plan for the weekend, to finally dismantle the Christmas Tree, has been postponed to tomorrow.
On Tuesday my office held its annual chili cookoff. For Sarah, the only person reading this who knows these people: first place was a tie between Ben and Jan P, second to Linda, third was a tie between ME and our newest intern who started just last week! I'm a little excited that I finally placed my chili after four years of competing.
In fact, go check out Sarah. I'm very envious of her upcoming trip to London. It won't be a regular tourist's sight-seeing mission, rather a full-on blitz of museums. It will be a fieldtrip gone haywire, grad student style.
This whole week has been consumed by issues of work:
•For me it's just super busy. It's stressful, but everyone is being absolutely saintly if I forget to do something or ask if they can wait. Change is hard.
•The Husband is beefing up his resume and looking for something to tie him over until he can start up his own business. Change is happening.
•Keith has returned to his old job as the night manager. For the kid who avoids change like the plague this is pretty awesome. It's a new position created just for him, because his old bosses liked his work THAT much. I wish he would return to college and might, but he's working full time now and getting a solid education that will serve him well in the future. Change is not always a bad thing.
•Amanda started her internship with a nationally recognized group. This is an incredible opportunity. She said last night that she's doing most of the same things she did at her regular job, just for free. The whole not-getting-paid-for-your-work is sucking pretty hard for her, but she's actively looking for a part-time weekend job. She successfully completed the census taker quiz and that might end up being her source of income during her internship. Change brings more change.
PS - NBC you've lost your luster. I'm watching George Lopez these days.
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Good Job/Bad Job
Have you ever had a really shitty job? One where you are physically sick every morning at the thought of going in, yet again?
Yeah, I've had that job. A couple of times.
Maybe because I've been there/done that/have the t-shirt that I revel in having a job I actually enjoy with coworkers who take their jobs seriously in an environment that fosters our individuality and personal growth. That cannot be said about a lot of places. A whole lot of places!
Granted I'm not making as much as I could if I worked elsewhere, but that's part and parcel with working at a non-profit (Yes, people who work at a non-profit do in fact receive paychecks, we have families to feed too). I think people would be suspect if I were making the big bucks. And while it's nice to fantasize about meaty paycheck, that's not why I'm here.
Almost from the first day, I found amusement with my coworkers who whined about office politics and oppressive management. I looked around, a little lost, HERE? Really????? I sat back and watched and waited. Maybe it was hidden and I was just missing it. Five years later, in fact last Friday was my five year anniversary, I have yet to see anything that comes close to office politics. I sure as hell don't see anything oppressive about the management. There isn't backstabbing, glory-hogging, grand-standing or any of the other bullshit that I have seen truly dismantle a work environment.
All in all this is a downright pleasant place to work.
That doesn't mean there aren't bumps in the road. Some days are much harder than others. Stress abounds from every corner. These are just facts of life no matter where you work.
I think maybe it's that stress causing some people to whimper and whine. When life gets tough, we whine. I also think that some of my coworkers, never really had a crappy job. I would never wish a bad job on anyone, especially these nice people, but having gone through some very hellish work environments I value and cherish coming into work without tiptoeing on eggshells.
I worked for a company where the owner didn't believe in giving written warnings. If you screwed up you were out. If it was perceived you screwed up you were out. He violated a lot of rules about employment, but nobody ever brought charges. It wasn't worth it. Just move on to another shitty job.
I worked in the corporate world at a couple of places. Everyone was sleeping with someone else or bitter that someone else was sleeping with their former partner or trying to weasel in on someone else's action. Coworkers were totally driven by position, money and glory. Backstabbing and undermining were daily events. Doing a good job, being concerned with customer service, being helpful only meant you were weak.
I've worked at a place so riddled with bureaucracy that the only way to get your job done was to keep your head low, stay out of the light, and just break the rules. If you got caught, you were out (after a long write up and counseling). But if you didn't get your job done, you were out (after a long write up and counseling). In the interim, big brother is looking over your shoulder and bigger brother is looking over his shoulder.
It was getting to the point that I was going to throw my hands up in despair and become a stay-at-home mom. That's not a slam on SAHM's, but for me, I need to get out of the house with something that forces me out of bed and out of my pajamas. I don't do that well on my own. A job keeps me from being crazy cat lady with five years worth of unread newspapers piled up in my kitchen.
There are some bad bad bad jobs out there. Where I'm at? NOT a bad job. It wouldn't know how to be a bad job. It's a caring environment. The management cares, the employees care, the board cares. Tough decisions have to be made, but they are done so in a manner that takes into consideration our mission, clients and employees. Honestly, if the word got out people would be pounding down the doors to get in here.
So tell me about a job you have really enjoyed.
Yeah, I've had that job. A couple of times.
Maybe because I've been there/done that/have the t-shirt that I revel in having a job I actually enjoy with coworkers who take their jobs seriously in an environment that fosters our individuality and personal growth. That cannot be said about a lot of places. A whole lot of places!
Granted I'm not making as much as I could if I worked elsewhere, but that's part and parcel with working at a non-profit (Yes, people who work at a non-profit do in fact receive paychecks, we have families to feed too). I think people would be suspect if I were making the big bucks. And while it's nice to fantasize about meaty paycheck, that's not why I'm here.
Almost from the first day, I found amusement with my coworkers who whined about office politics and oppressive management. I looked around, a little lost, HERE? Really????? I sat back and watched and waited. Maybe it was hidden and I was just missing it. Five years later, in fact last Friday was my five year anniversary, I have yet to see anything that comes close to office politics. I sure as hell don't see anything oppressive about the management. There isn't backstabbing, glory-hogging, grand-standing or any of the other bullshit that I have seen truly dismantle a work environment.
All in all this is a downright pleasant place to work.
That doesn't mean there aren't bumps in the road. Some days are much harder than others. Stress abounds from every corner. These are just facts of life no matter where you work.
I think maybe it's that stress causing some people to whimper and whine. When life gets tough, we whine. I also think that some of my coworkers, never really had a crappy job. I would never wish a bad job on anyone, especially these nice people, but having gone through some very hellish work environments I value and cherish coming into work without tiptoeing on eggshells.
I worked for a company where the owner didn't believe in giving written warnings. If you screwed up you were out. If it was perceived you screwed up you were out. He violated a lot of rules about employment, but nobody ever brought charges. It wasn't worth it. Just move on to another shitty job.
I worked in the corporate world at a couple of places. Everyone was sleeping with someone else or bitter that someone else was sleeping with their former partner or trying to weasel in on someone else's action. Coworkers were totally driven by position, money and glory. Backstabbing and undermining were daily events. Doing a good job, being concerned with customer service, being helpful only meant you were weak.
I've worked at a place so riddled with bureaucracy that the only way to get your job done was to keep your head low, stay out of the light, and just break the rules. If you got caught, you were out (after a long write up and counseling). But if you didn't get your job done, you were out (after a long write up and counseling). In the interim, big brother is looking over your shoulder and bigger brother is looking over his shoulder.
It was getting to the point that I was going to throw my hands up in despair and become a stay-at-home mom. That's not a slam on SAHM's, but for me, I need to get out of the house with something that forces me out of bed and out of my pajamas. I don't do that well on my own. A job keeps me from being crazy cat lady with five years worth of unread newspapers piled up in my kitchen.
There are some bad bad bad jobs out there. Where I'm at? NOT a bad job. It wouldn't know how to be a bad job. It's a caring environment. The management cares, the employees care, the board cares. Tough decisions have to be made, but they are done so in a manner that takes into consideration our mission, clients and employees. Honestly, if the word got out people would be pounding down the doors to get in here.
So tell me about a job you have really enjoyed.
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Genealogy
I got into genealogy in the late 90's, when the internet was just getting popular - AOL, baby! I was amazed how much information I was able to find without trudging through the traditional means of going to courthouses across the country. With a few clicks a whole world seemed to unfold and I became a genealogy junkie.
Swapping information on messageboards was incredible. Of course my family is always the obscure branch of another obscure branch. Few people were able to provide more than tidbits about my family while other families seemed to have endless tribes coughing up their information. It's a really frustrating pastime to say the least.
But then one day I got a response to one of my posts. The woman claimed to be a distant relative to my great-grandmother and even had a family reunion picture taken around 1909 or 1910. We swapped information confirming that we really were related. A month later I received this precious gem in the mail:
It didn't take but an instant for me to pick out a very young version of my great-grandmother. The eyes totally gave her away (she's the one in the back row with the big ass bow plastered to her head). Her siblings, her parents, her grandparents and even her great-grandmother are all here. Goosebumps. I cannot even begin to express how excited this picture makes me. It's such an incredible find... right up until we found out a few years ago that my grandmother's sister had our family's copy. Her daughter was very non-challant, like it was no big deal. Obviously she had seen it before. Well poo on her. *MY* copy came from a distant cousin living in Texas.
I've been able to chart most of these people into my family tree. There are a few strays left, but one day I'll figure them out. The coolest one is the extremely old, decrepit woman in the center of the family. According to my records she was born in 1830. That would be my great-grandmother's, great-grandmother. And if we were playing the Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon game, that would make it possible for me to say that I'm only two degrees away from having met someone born in the 1830's. Someone whose husband fought in the Civil War (Union). It's shit like this that keeps me plugging away for more nuggets of family history.
Swapping information on messageboards was incredible. Of course my family is always the obscure branch of another obscure branch. Few people were able to provide more than tidbits about my family while other families seemed to have endless tribes coughing up their information. It's a really frustrating pastime to say the least.
But then one day I got a response to one of my posts. The woman claimed to be a distant relative to my great-grandmother and even had a family reunion picture taken around 1909 or 1910. We swapped information confirming that we really were related. A month later I received this precious gem in the mail:
I've been able to chart most of these people into my family tree. There are a few strays left, but one day I'll figure them out. The coolest one is the extremely old, decrepit woman in the center of the family. According to my records she was born in 1830. That would be my great-grandmother's, great-grandmother. And if we were playing the Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon game, that would make it possible for me to say that I'm only two degrees away from having met someone born in the 1830's. Someone whose husband fought in the Civil War (Union). It's shit like this that keeps me plugging away for more nuggets of family history.
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
My Quilting Hobby
I haven't discussed my quilts here, but if you read my full profile you'll see that quilting is one of my hobbies. I have very carefully chosen the word, "hobby" as I do this for my own pleasure, not for profit. Once I tried to assemble a quilt to someone else's exacting request. The project sat and sat and sat and inspiration never kicked in. I returned the fabric to her (no money had been exchanged) and offered my apologies.
Only a few years ago did I wise up and start photographing my work. It might be a good thing that I didn't capture my very first quilt. Oh it was bad. Worse yet, I gave it to a friend for her baby son. The blocks weren't exactly the same size, none of the corners met up and I paid no attention to seam allowances. I'm sure it fell apart in the first weeks. The only redeeming thing about this quilt were the fabulous colors - dark blue, powder blue, and orange. We lost contact shortly after the birth of her son so that surely saved her from telling me about the crappy quilt I thrust on her.
Back in 1988 when I was pregnant with my daughter I started watching the Home Show - a precursor to Martha Stewart with all of the artsy crafty things you can do around the house. One of them was quilting in a new and easy style - strip piecing. I'm not a seamstress. I can muddle my way through threading a sewing machine, but after that I'm pretty clueless. This strip piecing thing, however, looked very possible even with my limited sewing skills.
My mother was astonished that I asked for her old sewing machine, but she ended up being an invaluable resource as I began my quilting adventure. That first quilt was assembled with remnants found at the local fabric store. Those remnant tubs are my absolute favorite and I gravitate to those first when entering any fabric store.
A few years later I found an entire box for sale at a flea market filled fabric, half finished squares, thread and patterns. I bought it for $5. I am constantly pulling bits and pieces from that collection. And while that collection quickly blended in with the rest of my stash, I can immediately point out those pieces because they are the oldest fabrics. Most of them are from the 1930's. Pretty damn awesome flea market find!
Some of those partial squares made it into a sampler I made for my dad, another unphotographed quilt. It nearly flew together and before I knew it, the quilt was completed and ready to send off. Every time I talk to my dad he raves on and on about his quilt. It was made with love and he says he feels it. YAY
Another quilt that came together quickly was this Purple Flying Geese.
I made it for one of my internet friends, my timing random with no reason behind it. It's a lap quilt, the basic size of all of my quilts. Don't ask for specific dimensions because these things sort of blossom according to my whim. I really like how the line of scraps turned out on the edges. More of my quilts will have this touch added on. It amazes me that I can tell you about many of the fabrics used here - the ones that were purchased by mom for a dress for my daughter, the one used for the quilt I sent my dad, the ones used for a sampler class I took, the fabric my son picked out for his "Japanese" quilt. The purple background came as a gift from another internet friend.
I want to do quilts for many of my other internet friends, but my kids have this strange notion that they should be on the receiving end of some of mom's quilts.
Currently my sewing room has become a storage facility and there is a possibility that we might move before summer (that's a huge ol' maybe). My projects are again collecting dust and I'm starting to get antsy to go play with my fabric once more. In the meantime, I'll play show-n-tell.
Only a few years ago did I wise up and start photographing my work. It might be a good thing that I didn't capture my very first quilt. Oh it was bad. Worse yet, I gave it to a friend for her baby son. The blocks weren't exactly the same size, none of the corners met up and I paid no attention to seam allowances. I'm sure it fell apart in the first weeks. The only redeeming thing about this quilt were the fabulous colors - dark blue, powder blue, and orange. We lost contact shortly after the birth of her son so that surely saved her from telling me about the crappy quilt I thrust on her.
Back in 1988 when I was pregnant with my daughter I started watching the Home Show - a precursor to Martha Stewart with all of the artsy crafty things you can do around the house. One of them was quilting in a new and easy style - strip piecing. I'm not a seamstress. I can muddle my way through threading a sewing machine, but after that I'm pretty clueless. This strip piecing thing, however, looked very possible even with my limited sewing skills.
My mother was astonished that I asked for her old sewing machine, but she ended up being an invaluable resource as I began my quilting adventure. That first quilt was assembled with remnants found at the local fabric store. Those remnant tubs are my absolute favorite and I gravitate to those first when entering any fabric store.
A few years later I found an entire box for sale at a flea market filled fabric, half finished squares, thread and patterns. I bought it for $5. I am constantly pulling bits and pieces from that collection. And while that collection quickly blended in with the rest of my stash, I can immediately point out those pieces because they are the oldest fabrics. Most of them are from the 1930's. Pretty damn awesome flea market find!
Some of those partial squares made it into a sampler I made for my dad, another unphotographed quilt. It nearly flew together and before I knew it, the quilt was completed and ready to send off. Every time I talk to my dad he raves on and on about his quilt. It was made with love and he says he feels it. YAY
Another quilt that came together quickly was this Purple Flying Geese.
I made it for one of my internet friends, my timing random with no reason behind it. It's a lap quilt, the basic size of all of my quilts. Don't ask for specific dimensions because these things sort of blossom according to my whim. I really like how the line of scraps turned out on the edges. More of my quilts will have this touch added on. It amazes me that I can tell you about many of the fabrics used here - the ones that were purchased by mom for a dress for my daughter, the one used for the quilt I sent my dad, the ones used for a sampler class I took, the fabric my son picked out for his "Japanese" quilt. The purple background came as a gift from another internet friend.
I want to do quilts for many of my other internet friends, but my kids have this strange notion that they should be on the receiving end of some of mom's quilts.
Currently my sewing room has become a storage facility and there is a possibility that we might move before summer (that's a huge ol' maybe). My projects are again collecting dust and I'm starting to get antsy to go play with my fabric once more. In the meantime, I'll play show-n-tell.
Monday, January 18, 2010
1976 Family Reunion
I'm recovering nicely from the flu, thank you for asking. Still a little wobbly, but much less achy.
Since my imagination is rather lacking I went back into my photo archives and pulled this little gem
In 1976 we gathered at my grandparent's house - all of the kids and grandkids and one great-grandchild. That's me in the LOVELY pink Holly Hobby ensemble. My little brothers are standing on either side of me, rocking those fabulous 1970's plaid pants. We are the youngest of the grandkids, the rest were in their twenties. My aunt is the one cut off in the photo, holding the baby that I managed to give chicken pox to that week.
I didn't know I had chicken pox until several days after arriving at the house. What I first thought was a bug bite on my leg, flushed into a full-blown polka dot appearance on my chest and belly that night. I missed out on a lot of the touristy things the family did that week. I felt like crap so it didn't really matter.
A month ago when we were in Oklahoma, we stopped by to see my aunt and uncle. One of their daughters, the one on the far right in the picture, was with them. My cousin said it was great to see me all grown up. Holy crap. I've been all grown up for a while now. I even have kids that are all grown up. But I guess this family reunion was the last time she saw me in person.
The baby that I gave the chicken pox to is also all grown up with children of her own.
Since my imagination is rather lacking I went back into my photo archives and pulled this little gem
I didn't know I had chicken pox until several days after arriving at the house. What I first thought was a bug bite on my leg, flushed into a full-blown polka dot appearance on my chest and belly that night. I missed out on a lot of the touristy things the family did that week. I felt like crap so it didn't really matter.
A month ago when we were in Oklahoma, we stopped by to see my aunt and uncle. One of their daughters, the one on the far right in the picture, was with them. My cousin said it was great to see me all grown up. Holy crap. I've been all grown up for a while now. I even have kids that are all grown up. But I guess this family reunion was the last time she saw me in person.
The baby that I gave the chicken pox to is also all grown up with children of her own.
Sunday, January 17, 2010
The Magic Towel
I have the effing FLU.
I thought the ache in my neck Thursday was just stress after a particularly stressful week. And with the... um... "crazy" day... at work on Friday, my neck REALLY hurt. I seriously thought it was stress. But yesterday it was worse and accompanied by fever. The only thing I accomplished all day was a shower. That's it.
Popping Tylenol left and right, the pain in my neck is barely subsiding. I even looked up the symptoms of meningitis. Okay, I *might* have meningitis, but I also wisely googled flu symptoms and this neck pain, flaring down to my shoulders, is more probably Mr. Piggy, THE swine flu.
Fuck.
I soaked a towel in hot water and wrapped it around my neck. No improvement. Last night it dawned on me how hot my neck was that maybe a COLD towel would be beneficial. OMG. It's wonderful. I still ache, but less.
It's funny, but I always manage to pull out a towel when I'm sick. It's like Linus and his blanket. I found with a snotty nose, a towel is better than any lotion infused tissue. Yeah, it's gross, but being sick is gross. When it's hot at night, something that happens more and more frequently as I near my mid-forties, a towel soaked in cold water laying on my chest is a heavenly reprieve. When I'm congested with a bad cold, a hot towel pressed to my throat and cheeks helps break it up.
So today I'll be found on the couch once again, bundled in a warm blanket with an ice cold towel around my neck. It's odd, but it's making my sick body comfortable. Me and my magic towel
I thought the ache in my neck Thursday was just stress after a particularly stressful week. And with the... um... "crazy" day... at work on Friday, my neck REALLY hurt. I seriously thought it was stress. But yesterday it was worse and accompanied by fever. The only thing I accomplished all day was a shower. That's it.
Popping Tylenol left and right, the pain in my neck is barely subsiding. I even looked up the symptoms of meningitis. Okay, I *might* have meningitis, but I also wisely googled flu symptoms and this neck pain, flaring down to my shoulders, is more probably Mr. Piggy, THE swine flu.
Fuck.
I soaked a towel in hot water and wrapped it around my neck. No improvement. Last night it dawned on me how hot my neck was that maybe a COLD towel would be beneficial. OMG. It's wonderful. I still ache, but less.
It's funny, but I always manage to pull out a towel when I'm sick. It's like Linus and his blanket. I found with a snotty nose, a towel is better than any lotion infused tissue. Yeah, it's gross, but being sick is gross. When it's hot at night, something that happens more and more frequently as I near my mid-forties, a towel soaked in cold water laying on my chest is a heavenly reprieve. When I'm congested with a bad cold, a hot towel pressed to my throat and cheeks helps break it up.
So today I'll be found on the couch once again, bundled in a warm blanket with an ice cold towel around my neck. It's odd, but it's making my sick body comfortable. Me and my magic towel
Saturday, January 16, 2010
Why Do My Sheets Smell Like Pickles
I crawled into bed and the distinct smell of pickles wafted up from the covers. I like pickles, but not so much that I would eat them in bed. And it's not an scent I would ever use to deodorize anything in my house unless it was to trump something stinkier, maybe a skunk?
Then why on earth would my sheets smell like PICKLES? I sat there and mulled it over and started to discern the smells. Suddenly they opened up and I start to notice the essence of coconut. Ah, that would be the luscious Sephora body butter I was given for Christmas. I've been slathering that on my feet every night with fabulous results. But the other scent? hmmm.... that has to be Vicks. Yes, Vicks, the camphor rub I use to open my sinuses at night. Evidently it doesn't reduce my snoring but it soothes my congested airways enough that I can fall asleep. I might be addicted to it. At least I don't ingest it like my former father-in-law claims to do when he's sick - seriously. It even warns ON the jar NOT to ingest it. GROSS!
So science discovery of the day - Tropical Jasmine body butter mixed with Vicks Vap-o-Rub smells like dill pickles.
You're welcome, I know you've been waiting for that information.
Then why on earth would my sheets smell like PICKLES? I sat there and mulled it over and started to discern the smells. Suddenly they opened up and I start to notice the essence of coconut. Ah, that would be the luscious Sephora body butter I was given for Christmas. I've been slathering that on my feet every night with fabulous results. But the other scent? hmmm.... that has to be Vicks. Yes, Vicks, the camphor rub I use to open my sinuses at night. Evidently it doesn't reduce my snoring but it soothes my congested airways enough that I can fall asleep. I might be addicted to it. At least I don't ingest it like my former father-in-law claims to do when he's sick - seriously. It even warns ON the jar NOT to ingest it. GROSS!
So science discovery of the day - Tropical Jasmine body butter mixed with Vicks Vap-o-Rub smells like dill pickles.
You're welcome, I know you've been waiting for that information.
Friday, January 15, 2010
Friday Fragments - Jan 14, 2010
Saturday was awesome. I met up with two old friends for lunch. We've known each other since high school, but lost contact after my last move. Just before Christmas we reconnected via Facebook. We mostly talked about our current lives and didn't really rehash the old days - sort of different from when I hang out with my everyday friends, of course there are a lot more memories to rehash. But whatever, it was fun. Ian's floor hockey schedule kicked back up. His team is the youngest in their division and are getting pummeled by the big kids. They don't seem to let it get them down and play hard and fierce to the last second. It's just difficult seeing that 11-1 score, especially knowing the score keepers stopped displaying the other team's goals just to be merciful. I think it was more like 15-1.
Sunday was spent watching old movies. I really should have gone to my mom's house and set up her new computer, but she's been waiting since early December. Between car repairs, her falling down, holidays, and bad weather, she will be waiting until tomorrow for the computer set up. Besides, she's limping by with her laptop just fine.
Monday/Tuesday/Wednesday were all rolled into one as I was pulled in to mash numbers for several grants at work. My brain is screaming OUCH! It was tedious, but I actually got into an enjoyable geeky groove. Days like that exhaust me, though. PS, Thank You God for spreadsheets! In the midst of that the shit hit the fan at my ex's house bringing tearful calls from my son and daughter. Keith has vacated the premises and is staying with me until the dust settles. You can read about all that over on my parenting blog.
After work yesterday, we went out to eat and I got a ginormous margarita. The perfect ending to a chaotic week.
OH! I almost forgot! You need to check out QODDESS for her daily list of questions! I'm the only one replying over there and am getting a tad lonely.
Thursday, January 14, 2010
1950's Sleepover
The Rockwell breakfast shot I posted yesterday must have been on the same roll as today's pictures - the exposure is ridiculously the same.
This was a sleepover my mom hosted for a few of her friends. It would have been in the very early 1950's, maybe '52 or '53.
I love the huge bowl of popcorn and the kernels getting dropped on the floor. I'm sure as soon as this photo was snapped my grandma had the broom and dustpan out and whisking up the mess. I also laugh that the girls had their hair pinned up for the night. That's certainly a habit that fell by the wayside when I was a teen.
Before the girls nestled down for their sleeping bags and popcorn, they had to play GAMES! Seeing this explains a lot about my slumber parties. My mom would try to meddle, designing a whole itinerary for the night. It always fell flat as we would prefer to be left to our own resources. But look at this! A hat was on a string like a pinata, but instead of hitting it you were to try to get your head INTO the hat. I'm quite sure it was damn impossible and worth a few laughs.
You'll notice an eerie similarity between this table and the one I posted yesterday. Of course my eyes rivet, once more, to the drinking vessels. These aren't the cartoon laden jigger/juice glasses the adults got. No, these are the iconic tin cups that I clearly recall being part of the kitchen wares in my grandparents camper. I loved those cups. Nothing screams 1950 to me more than those. I also love the expression on the one girl's face, her extreme pleasure to be allowed to eat or that the food was identifiable or that she just got confirmation that her mother is on the way to rescue her - hard to call.
Finally the visit is over so they pose as cool as awkward junior high girls can possibly be, next to the family car.
This was a sleepover my mom hosted for a few of her friends. It would have been in the very early 1950's, maybe '52 or '53.
I love the huge bowl of popcorn and the kernels getting dropped on the floor. I'm sure as soon as this photo was snapped my grandma had the broom and dustpan out and whisking up the mess. I also laugh that the girls had their hair pinned up for the night. That's certainly a habit that fell by the wayside when I was a teen.
You'll notice an eerie similarity between this table and the one I posted yesterday. Of course my eyes rivet, once more, to the drinking vessels. These aren't the cartoon laden jigger/juice glasses the adults got. No, these are the iconic tin cups that I clearly recall being part of the kitchen wares in my grandparents camper. I loved those cups. Nothing screams 1950 to me more than those. I also love the expression on the one girl's face, her extreme pleasure to be allowed to eat or that the food was identifiable or that she just got confirmation that her mother is on the way to rescue her - hard to call.
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
A Rockwell Breakfast
I gravitate back to this picture every time I scan past it. Doesn't it scream something from Rockwell? This isn't something I lifted from a 1950's magazine. Nope, it was found in with my grandmother's collection of photographs. That's my grandpa on the left, the other two people are family friends, the Ferguson's.
I stare at it, hoping to see something new. Just this morning I noticed the little juice cups, Mrs. Ferguson is holding one. I'm quite sure I have that glass in my possession!
At one point I was collecting shotglasses. In my family if it's discovered you collect anything you will be bombarded with so many of the desired item that you will cry uncle and swear off never wanting to see another one ever again. So I suddenly had (still have) a killer collection of shotglasses. My grandmother rummaged through her vast collection of packrat crap and dug out a set of glasses that she called "jiggers".
My love of antiques compelled me to accept the donation. These glasses were four ounces, each ounce marked off with an amusing cartoon caricature, usually warning of impending drunkenness. Simply, I love them.
In the top picture, it's clear that the jiggers aren't being used for alcohol, but just as juice glasses. I think Norman Rockwell would approve.
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
GRRRRRRRRR
I really hate how the actions of one dipshit can impact everyone else.
It's easy being a sanctimonious prick casting judgment on others, not so easy to walk the walk, to stay up on the highroad. Be a man, you weasly asshole, and DO THE RIGHT THING.
(sorry for the rant. The person who needs to read this never will, but I had more to get off my chest beyond what I just screamed into the telephone - which by the way, felt REALLY good. I highly recommend that. Don't hold it in. Say it and say it with purpose.)
It's easy being a sanctimonious prick casting judgment on others, not so easy to walk the walk, to stay up on the highroad. Be a man, you weasly asshole, and DO THE RIGHT THING.
(sorry for the rant. The person who needs to read this never will, but I had more to get off my chest beyond what I just screamed into the telephone - which by the way, felt REALLY good. I highly recommend that. Don't hold it in. Say it and say it with purpose.)
Blog Housekeeping
I'm spending the day adding labels to all of my posts and possibly a little rearranging. Check back tomorrow or maybe later today, I'll try to come up with something insightful to post. I guess this makes up for yesterdays super long ass post?
In the meantime, check out all of the interesting blogs I have listed on my sidebar.
In the meantime, check out all of the interesting blogs I have listed on my sidebar.
Monday, January 11, 2010
Social Networking - Female Style
(WARNING - RLP - REALLY LONG POST - SORRY)
It happened in 2001. I was at Girl Scout camp with my daughter for a Mother-Daughter retreat with about 50 other mother-daughter duos. Another mom was propped up against the wall, jiggling in silent laughter, tears rolling down her face.
She was reading Jill Conner-Browne's, The Sweet Potato Queens Book of Love. Days later I had an order sent off to Amazon for my own copy. Soon I was also jiggling in silent laughter, tears rolling down my face. The woman was truly funny. She had a second book out, God Bless The Sweet Potato Queens. It didn't seem possible, but I laughed even harder.
Jill offered exactly what this brand new divorcee needed - humor, perspective and a sense that I was not alone.
I'm not sure what prompted me to look her up online. I'm not the kind of person who researches products. I don't sign up for contests. I don't go poking around. But this time I did and I never left.
She had a messageboard. For many a messageboard sounds so... lame? I've used messageboards before working on my genealogy research. They've been a Godsend of information in that sense. But to discuss a book? To chat?
I was one of the early members of her messageboard. I would check in every few days and membership would constantly increase. We left funny quips about our lives, finding similarity in what Jill had written.
Soon it was no longer about the books or Jill. We grew bigger than just a messageboard of fans, we became a community. I won't dare speak for Jill, but I think she loved this fact, knowing she brought so many wonderful people together.
People came from all corners. Some by accident, some by word of mouth. We crashed multiple servers with our chatter and attracted more than a few trolls. We were mostly women but an occasional man would join in the fun, or attempt to. Within a matter of years we numbered over 1,000 members.
Our treasured messageboard was closed down in June 2006. One troll too many had shit in our playground and Jill was done playing babysitter. We went underground. We now have a private board with about 100 active members.
I've often been asked why we have a messageboard, what's wrong with a simple chat room? A chat room is much like a telephone where the participants have to be present at the same time. A messageboard allows you to post a question, respond to another and then dash off to feed the baby, grab a load of laundry, call your mom, and watch an episode of Oprah. This is the only way mature women could possibly communicate.
I have marveled at this community more than once. I knew we were an advertiser's wet dream. The way we would introduce a new product and everyone would flock to try it, this was something marketers would give eyeteeth for. We are the most elusive of demographics as most of us are busy being moms and housewives and full-time employees. It's sort of hard to capture us at any one spot, we're not known for sitting still for very long. If a commercial comes on in the middle of our favorite program that's when we dash to the dryer for another load to fold. If something falls out of our favorite magazine it's set to the side for when we have a few seconds, only to be picked up months or years later after the expiration date or the item out of production. We just don't have time to learn about new products, to toss money at something new only to find it doesn't measure up. We find what works and keep with it. That's a tough nut to crack for the old men of the business world.
Then I read one post of someone raving about Trader Joe's guacamole and BAM, suddenly, like little sheep, everyone is flocking to Trader Joe's emptying the shelves of guacamole. The TJ's guys are wondering what the hell just happened. No advertisements, no coupons, no pimply teenager in an avocado costume standing in front of the store, no matronly woman offering samples, and yet the product is instantly selling like hotcakes. What the hell is up? What changed?
Word of mouth is what happened. Word of mouth from a reliable source to a nationwide audience. Seriously, what business exec wouldn't KILL for that type of reach?
But it's more than promoting products. We are a true community. We've done the unmentionable and actually gone out to meet each other in person. You know, the thing everyone warns is super dangerous? Yeah, we've done that. *I* have done that. I have driven to Indianapolis and spent the weekend in the home of a woman I had only known through the internet. I did the same thing a few years later in Lawrence, Kansas, but this time I had previously met the women. I've also driven to Chicago for lunch, just for the afternoon and back home, again to meet up with absolute strangers. We are friends in the truest sense. We gather around in times of pain, send off blankets to new mothers, chat about goofy husbands and irritating children and whine about miserable work conditions. We talk about everything. Just like we do with our 3D girlfriends. And for some reason this stumps men, as if we were speaking in code.
So last year when one board member begged the rest of us to help her out with her Fashion Wars posse on Facebook, we flocked over there like crazy, myself included. It didn't take much to coerce me as my daughter insisted that I needed to join so we could easily share pictures. My employer also wanted me, the IT goddess, to check out the social networking hub-bub. So sign up I did. We played the games, found former classmates, and found a new way to keep up with each other's day to day lives. Our messageboard activity has plummeted. It still exists, but not like it did for so many years.
Facebook has quickly taken over and we continue to use it in the same manner - posting about every day life, discussing new products and just old fashioned playing. Executives everywhere are flabbergasted at its popularity. They cannot believe they've finally found a medium that appeals to the mothers of the world. Now they're trying to harness it.
I have a sneaking suspicion they're going to screw it up. Women don't like being manipulated. We don't have time for bullshit, we have plenty of it in our real lives.
It happened in 2001. I was at Girl Scout camp with my daughter for a Mother-Daughter retreat with about 50 other mother-daughter duos. Another mom was propped up against the wall, jiggling in silent laughter, tears rolling down her face.
She was reading Jill Conner-Browne's, The Sweet Potato Queens Book of Love. Days later I had an order sent off to Amazon for my own copy. Soon I was also jiggling in silent laughter, tears rolling down my face. The woman was truly funny. She had a second book out, God Bless The Sweet Potato Queens. It didn't seem possible, but I laughed even harder.
Jill offered exactly what this brand new divorcee needed - humor, perspective and a sense that I was not alone.
I'm not sure what prompted me to look her up online. I'm not the kind of person who researches products. I don't sign up for contests. I don't go poking around. But this time I did and I never left.
She had a messageboard. For many a messageboard sounds so... lame? I've used messageboards before working on my genealogy research. They've been a Godsend of information in that sense. But to discuss a book? To chat?
I was one of the early members of her messageboard. I would check in every few days and membership would constantly increase. We left funny quips about our lives, finding similarity in what Jill had written.
Soon it was no longer about the books or Jill. We grew bigger than just a messageboard of fans, we became a community. I won't dare speak for Jill, but I think she loved this fact, knowing she brought so many wonderful people together.
People came from all corners. Some by accident, some by word of mouth. We crashed multiple servers with our chatter and attracted more than a few trolls. We were mostly women but an occasional man would join in the fun, or attempt to. Within a matter of years we numbered over 1,000 members.
Our treasured messageboard was closed down in June 2006. One troll too many had shit in our playground and Jill was done playing babysitter. We went underground. We now have a private board with about 100 active members.
I've often been asked why we have a messageboard, what's wrong with a simple chat room? A chat room is much like a telephone where the participants have to be present at the same time. A messageboard allows you to post a question, respond to another and then dash off to feed the baby, grab a load of laundry, call your mom, and watch an episode of Oprah. This is the only way mature women could possibly communicate.
I have marveled at this community more than once. I knew we were an advertiser's wet dream. The way we would introduce a new product and everyone would flock to try it, this was something marketers would give eyeteeth for. We are the most elusive of demographics as most of us are busy being moms and housewives and full-time employees. It's sort of hard to capture us at any one spot, we're not known for sitting still for very long. If a commercial comes on in the middle of our favorite program that's when we dash to the dryer for another load to fold. If something falls out of our favorite magazine it's set to the side for when we have a few seconds, only to be picked up months or years later after the expiration date or the item out of production. We just don't have time to learn about new products, to toss money at something new only to find it doesn't measure up. We find what works and keep with it. That's a tough nut to crack for the old men of the business world.
Then I read one post of someone raving about Trader Joe's guacamole and BAM, suddenly, like little sheep, everyone is flocking to Trader Joe's emptying the shelves of guacamole. The TJ's guys are wondering what the hell just happened. No advertisements, no coupons, no pimply teenager in an avocado costume standing in front of the store, no matronly woman offering samples, and yet the product is instantly selling like hotcakes. What the hell is up? What changed?
Word of mouth is what happened. Word of mouth from a reliable source to a nationwide audience. Seriously, what business exec wouldn't KILL for that type of reach?
But it's more than promoting products. We are a true community. We've done the unmentionable and actually gone out to meet each other in person. You know, the thing everyone warns is super dangerous? Yeah, we've done that. *I* have done that. I have driven to Indianapolis and spent the weekend in the home of a woman I had only known through the internet. I did the same thing a few years later in Lawrence, Kansas, but this time I had previously met the women. I've also driven to Chicago for lunch, just for the afternoon and back home, again to meet up with absolute strangers. We are friends in the truest sense. We gather around in times of pain, send off blankets to new mothers, chat about goofy husbands and irritating children and whine about miserable work conditions. We talk about everything. Just like we do with our 3D girlfriends. And for some reason this stumps men, as if we were speaking in code.
So last year when one board member begged the rest of us to help her out with her Fashion Wars posse on Facebook, we flocked over there like crazy, myself included. It didn't take much to coerce me as my daughter insisted that I needed to join so we could easily share pictures. My employer also wanted me, the IT goddess, to check out the social networking hub-bub. So sign up I did. We played the games, found former classmates, and found a new way to keep up with each other's day to day lives. Our messageboard activity has plummeted. It still exists, but not like it did for so many years.
Facebook has quickly taken over and we continue to use it in the same manner - posting about every day life, discussing new products and just old fashioned playing. Executives everywhere are flabbergasted at its popularity. They cannot believe they've finally found a medium that appeals to the mothers of the world. Now they're trying to harness it.
I have a sneaking suspicion they're going to screw it up. Women don't like being manipulated. We don't have time for bullshit, we have plenty of it in our real lives.
Sunday, January 10, 2010
Why I Don't Smoke
It's so funny, people admire me for never having been a smoker because I've been able to resist. That I've honored my body by not falling for the sweet lure of tobacco, to keep my lungs clean.
Right.
Because I am the picture of health and healthy habits.
HARDLY!
The curse of having best friends who have known you since before high school is that they know your deep dark secrets. They can tick off every man you've ever slept with, wanted to sleep with, and the ones you managed to ditch. They were there for your first drink, when you skipped school and they know about every surgery, ailment, cancer threat, skipped period and pregnancy. They know what you prefer to drink, how much you can hold, your stages of drunkenness and have vivid recall of the times you passed out.
They also know why out of the three friends, I am not a smoker. They know that I am not a die hard health nut. They were there.
As Piranha's parents both smoked, there were always a stash of cigs. It was nothing to lift a few to feed our budding smoking needs. So we would walk around someone's unsupervised, parent-free house with a drink in one hand and a cigarette in the other. Except me.
I tried. Really, I did. Unfortunately the stupid lighter eluded me. To this day, bringing forth fire from a lighter is a two-hand deal. I just cannot manage to flick the flame with one hand. One night after much frustration, and a little alcohol in my system, I just could not get the damn thing to light. When I finally got a flame and touched it to the cigarette with absolutely no success I finally realized that I was trying to light the WRONG END!
That was it. Clearly I'm too stupid to smoke.
Right.
Because I am the picture of health and healthy habits.
HARDLY!
The curse of having best friends who have known you since before high school is that they know your deep dark secrets. They can tick off every man you've ever slept with, wanted to sleep with, and the ones you managed to ditch. They were there for your first drink, when you skipped school and they know about every surgery, ailment, cancer threat, skipped period and pregnancy. They know what you prefer to drink, how much you can hold, your stages of drunkenness and have vivid recall of the times you passed out.
They also know why out of the three friends, I am not a smoker. They know that I am not a die hard health nut. They were there.
As Piranha's parents both smoked, there were always a stash of cigs. It was nothing to lift a few to feed our budding smoking needs. So we would walk around someone's unsupervised, parent-free house with a drink in one hand and a cigarette in the other. Except me.
I tried. Really, I did. Unfortunately the stupid lighter eluded me. To this day, bringing forth fire from a lighter is a two-hand deal. I just cannot manage to flick the flame with one hand. One night after much frustration, and a little alcohol in my system, I just could not get the damn thing to light. When I finally got a flame and touched it to the cigarette with absolutely no success I finally realized that I was trying to light the WRONG END!
That was it. Clearly I'm too stupid to smoke.
Saturday, January 09, 2010
My Brilliant Idea For Mexican Restaurants
Don't you think that when you dine at a Mexican restaurant, especially for lunch, that the meal should include a siesta?
I mean, this is a freakin no brainer for me. Buy a fajita, get a nap for free. Buy a margarita, get a nap. Buy a sangria, get a nap.
Your cell phone starts ringing, it's the office, "sorry, I'm at a Mexican restaurant and it will be a while. We haven't had our siesta yet."
This could be caused by a couple of nights of staying up too late and a dire need to lie down, but who cares, it's a FABULOUS IDEA!
Right?
I mean, this is a freakin no brainer for me. Buy a fajita, get a nap for free. Buy a margarita, get a nap. Buy a sangria, get a nap.
Your cell phone starts ringing, it's the office, "sorry, I'm at a Mexican restaurant and it will be a while. We haven't had our siesta yet."
This could be caused by a couple of nights of staying up too late and a dire need to lie down, but who cares, it's a FABULOUS IDEA!
Right?
Friday, January 08, 2010
Three Weeks Post Sangria Party Aftermath
email from Piranha:
Question of the Day:
What happens to a cucumber slice when you put it in a plastic Easter egg for a month????
Bueller? Bueller?
Anyone???
I know! I know! I know! It turns into a hard black potato chip looking thing with no middle! How do I know this you ask? Because when I was rooting thru my junk drawer last night looking for something, my plastic Easter duck egg popped open and low and behold…a charred, mangled what-used-to be a cucumber slice popped out! I’m pretty sure one of my drunk ass friends decided to conduct this experiment after consuming massive amounts of sangria. I won’t mention any names but I’m thinking it rhymes with Shmorene.
I don't think so! Moi? Nooooooo I am guilty of rearranging the bathroom and then moving the bathroom contents to the livingroom, but I did not participate in hiding a cucumber slice in a plastic easter egg. I *may* have witnessed such an act, but, Your Honor, I did not participate. I submit the following photo as evidence.
NOT ME! That would be party attendee, PP the infamous Pabritches.
UPDATE: As I was composing this post, an email popped in from Piranha offering her apologies for wrongly accusing me of hiding the cucumber slice in a plastic egg in her junk drawer. "That pic also explains the hole in the middle of the cucumber slice…I thought the middle had just rotted away but now I know better!"
Sweet sweet justice! Carry on
Question of the Day:
What happens to a cucumber slice when you put it in a plastic Easter egg for a month????
Bueller? Bueller?
Anyone???
I know! I know! I know! It turns into a hard black potato chip looking thing with no middle! How do I know this you ask? Because when I was rooting thru my junk drawer last night looking for something, my plastic Easter duck egg popped open and low and behold…a charred, mangled what-used-to be a cucumber slice popped out! I’m pretty sure one of my drunk ass friends decided to conduct this experiment after consuming massive amounts of sangria. I won’t mention any names but I’m thinking it rhymes with Shmorene.
I don't think so! Moi? Nooooooo I am guilty of rearranging the bathroom and then moving the bathroom contents to the livingroom, but I did not participate in hiding a cucumber slice in a plastic easter egg. I *may* have witnessed such an act, but, Your Honor, I did not participate. I submit the following photo as evidence.
UPDATE: As I was composing this post, an email popped in from Piranha offering her apologies for wrongly accusing me of hiding the cucumber slice in a plastic egg in her junk drawer. "That pic also explains the hole in the middle of the cucumber slice…I thought the middle had just rotted away but now I know better!"
Sweet sweet justice! Carry on
Friday Fragments - Jan 8, 2010
-New Years Eve was spent with friends, playing Cranium, everyone's kids running wild through the house.
-New Years Day we made up Christmas that was postponed by icy roads. Wii was a hit and the boys proclaimed it to be the best Christmas ever. Afterwards, we kept our tradition of going to the movie theater and saw Sherlock Holmes.
-Saturday we repaired our new bed using cinderblocks
-Sunday we did NOTHING. Glorious nothing. I made ham and bean soup and it hit the spot. So technically I did SOMETHING, but getting up and stirring a pot of beans might as well constitute nothing. Braindead monkeys could muster that much energy.
-Monday was back to work, back to the swing of things and learning to use 2010 instead of 2009. My fingers still trip over that.
-Wednesday I woke up convinced it was Tuesday. Somehow I completely lost Tuesday and that has mucked up my entire week making today Thursday. All day Wednesday the news warned of impending doom as a huge winter storm raged toward St. Louis. The town went into its typical pre-storm panic and wiped the shelves clean of bread, milk and eggs. All I can assume is that bad weather means people here MUST MAKE FRENCH TOAST.
-Thursday the storm had hit and there was maybe four inches of snow on the ground. The roads at my house were fairly clear so I went to work. Parts of town were hit worse and people may be holed up an additional day. It was certainly nothing to warrant the panic of the night before, as usual. My son got off school and spent the entire day setting up the Wii. My Mii has the appropriate brown hair, is much skinnier, but has a freaking SCOWL! Come on, I'm a happy person dammit.
-Friday, today, are you sure it's Friday???? Doesn't feel like it. School is off again, mostly due to the cold and that a lot of the sidewalks aren't clear. My son is going to suffer tennis elbow as he exhausts all of the games for the Wii system and is already asking to go shop for more. Whatever, suck it up Little Dude. You're stuck with a Wii that you swore you wouldn't like, ha I was right, and you've got seven different game disks. Make it work.
Thursday, January 07, 2010
Old Women And A Lemon Tree - A Trip Down Memory Lane
Mary R died in the 1930's. Every single picture of her shows a dour old woman, even when she was young. I suspect she is part Osage Indian, but I can't prove it. Little Miss Genealogy here will keep digging.
I clearly remember Xema and Nana. Nana passed away in the early 1970's. She was the oldest girl in her family and seems to have been responsible for her younger siblings. My favorite dessert, a staple at all family gatherings, was one she made all of the time. We call it "Grandmother's Dessert", but it's morphed into "Nana's Dessert". Everyone thinks it has banana's because of the new name. Actually it's whipped gelatin and graham crackers, looking very similar to cheesecake, but sooooo not cheesecake.
When I was little, Xema lived in Anaheim California. I remember that she had a lemon tree in her backyard. My mom says she also had a grapefruit tree, but the lemon tree seemed pretty awesome in my preschool head. Her house was purchased as part of eminent domain for an exit ramp from the highway to Disneyland (my mom says that in very bitter tones every time).
I remember visiting Xema in a nursing home in 1980. Grandma wanted to visit her aunt and took me along for the ride. Grandma had to tell the old woman who she was and it was a lost cause to explain who I was. Sadly, Grandma has the same type of dementia. She still knows who everyone is, except my older son. She always asks why that boy is doing whatever it is he's doing - like he's some sort of hoodlum. She remembers him as a little boy, not a grown man.
Wednesday, January 06, 2010
100th Post and My Geeked Out Geekness
I'm totally wasting my 100th post (yay me!) on bragging on my geek accomplishments today!
A) I learned how to make a button that links to my parenting blog
B) Placed said button in the title bar (because I want to be like all the cool kids)
3) Found the code to put buttons in a horizontal line up there (will have to make more buttons to prove this one)
iv) Tweeked the html to widen my posts on the screen (this one has been nagging at me for a long time so I'm REALLY happy I figured it out)
THIS is how I've burned my brain cells for the past several hours and I'm really excited butnobody ANYBODY (sorry to my grammatically correct friends) who understands what I'm talking about is nearby so I can't brag on my geekiness. :(
yay me
CRAP! The fucking button doesn't work! Dammit! *sigh*
FIXED! YAY!
And now I've moved the button to the sidebar after all of that brain hammering to get it to work right at the top. Oh well. It looks better on the side. At least I have the code to do it on top if I want to. (Yeah, a geek needs "code" to "do it" on top)
Crap. It IS "nobody". I really need to stop re-reading this post. Or maybe I can just turn it into the most edited post in all of blogdom. Come back tomorrow and see what else I've done to it. You know, I'm going to wake up at 4am and worry if I got the anybody/nobody issue right. At this point it does.not.fucking.matter. But I have to get it right. Once I posted a response to someone saying "sherpa" along the lines of feeling like a pack mule. And then I woke up the next morning seriously worried that I made a wrong analogy so at 4 am I crawled out of bed, pulled up the computer, searched Wikipedia for "sherpa" all prepared to eat crow and laugh at my stupidity yet again. But no, I was right. And wide awake. And this is why I should not use big words.
But seriously, do you see how the posts are wider on the screen? Isn't that totally awesome? I did that without searching for tips and tricks, without copying someone else's code. Did it all with my own brain matter. But I really need to avoid big words because that is what trips me up. Not programmer code which I don't know squat about, words like sherpa.
A) I learned how to make a button that links to my parenting blog
B) Placed said button in the title bar (because I want to be like all the cool kids)
3) Found the code to put buttons in a horizontal line up there (will have to make more buttons to prove this one)
iv) Tweeked the html to widen my posts on the screen (this one has been nagging at me for a long time so I'm REALLY happy I figured it out)
THIS is how I've burned my brain cells for the past several hours and I'm really excited but
yay me
CRAP! The fucking button doesn't work! Dammit! *sigh*
FIXED! YAY!
And now I've moved the button to the sidebar after all of that brain hammering to get it to work right at the top. Oh well. It looks better on the side. At least I have the code to do it on top if I want to. (Yeah, a geek needs "code" to "do it" on top)
Crap. It IS "nobody". I really need to stop re-reading this post. Or maybe I can just turn it into the most edited post in all of blogdom. Come back tomorrow and see what else I've done to it. You know, I'm going to wake up at 4am and worry if I got the anybody/nobody issue right. At this point it does.not.fucking.matter. But I have to get it right. Once I posted a response to someone saying "sherpa" along the lines of feeling like a pack mule. And then I woke up the next morning seriously worried that I made a wrong analogy so at 4 am I crawled out of bed, pulled up the computer, searched Wikipedia for "sherpa" all prepared to eat crow and laugh at my stupidity yet again. But no, I was right. And wide awake. And this is why I should not use big words.
But seriously, do you see how the posts are wider on the screen? Isn't that totally awesome? I did that without searching for tips and tricks, without copying someone else's code. Did it all with my own brain matter. But I really need to avoid big words because that is what trips me up. Not programmer code which I don't know squat about, words like sherpa.
Great Ozark Nipple Fish
We're not sure of the ACTUAL name of the little dudes, being as we're not biologists or fish experts, but we decided to call them Nipple Fish. And since we were in the Ozarks, they MUST be Ozark Nipple Fish.
Makes sense, right?
I thought you'd agree.
Oh, you want to know WHY we call them Nipple Fish? Well, on one of our many alcoholic forays into the Lake of the Ozarks one of the men in our group, ironically, Piranha's husband, MixMaster K, had a fish nibble on his nipple. And being as he didn't expect anything to nibble on his nipple, he screamed like a little girl. And being the incredibly sensitive friend-types that we are, we all laughed at him. A lot. He got back into the water and damn if the nipple fish didn't attack again!
After three or four reports of suckling fish, he then screamed in horrific pain. One of the little bastards TOOK A BITE! He hoisted his tiny man breast above water and sure enough there was a wee bit of blood. The girls all grabbed their own boobs in real sympathy and MixMaster K finally put a shirt on to avert any further nipple fish attacks.
MixMaster K seems to forget about the nipple fish and on successive trips was again attacked.
Nipple Fish are not restricted to The Lake of the Ozarks. They are also found in Lake Norfolk in northern Arkansas. I've discovered that they also have a taste for moles and large freckles. As in the ones on my back.
So be careful. Keep your nipples covered when you come to the Ozarks!
Makes sense, right?
I thought you'd agree.
Oh, you want to know WHY we call them Nipple Fish? Well, on one of our many alcoholic forays into the Lake of the Ozarks one of the men in our group, ironically, Piranha's husband, MixMaster K, had a fish nibble on his nipple. And being as he didn't expect anything to nibble on his nipple, he screamed like a little girl. And being the incredibly sensitive friend-types that we are, we all laughed at him. A lot. He got back into the water and damn if the nipple fish didn't attack again!
After three or four reports of suckling fish, he then screamed in horrific pain. One of the little bastards TOOK A BITE! He hoisted his tiny man breast above water and sure enough there was a wee bit of blood. The girls all grabbed their own boobs in real sympathy and MixMaster K finally put a shirt on to avert any further nipple fish attacks.
MixMaster K seems to forget about the nipple fish and on successive trips was again attacked.
Nipple Fish are not restricted to The Lake of the Ozarks. They are also found in Lake Norfolk in northern Arkansas. I've discovered that they also have a taste for moles and large freckles. As in the ones on my back.
So be careful. Keep your nipples covered when you come to the Ozarks!
Tuesday, January 05, 2010
Missing a Fireplace
My last house had a fireplace. It was sort of surprising for a rental, but I totally enjoyed it. Unfortunately it was not a sufficient heat source for the house. Hell, it couldn't even heat the livingroom! But it gave the essence of heat. There is nothing like standing in front of a roaring fire (really close), holding a steaming cup of hot cocoa and the snow piling up outside. Cozy.
Despite the inability to generate much heat there were two days in December 2006 that it was our ONLY source of heat when the electricity was knocked out during an ice storm.
My current house, also a rental, has a fireplace too. It, however, was rigged for gas and the gas company didn't approve the connections. BUMMER! There have been several occasions that a pretty fire would have been perfect, if only to boost my mood.
Today is bitterly cold. Have I made myself clear how much I detest Missouri weather? ass biting COLD. Negatives temps are predicted in the next few days. I WANT A FIREFUCKINGPLACE!
or a trip to the beach
Despite the inability to generate much heat there were two days in December 2006 that it was our ONLY source of heat when the electricity was knocked out during an ice storm.
My current house, also a rental, has a fireplace too. It, however, was rigged for gas and the gas company didn't approve the connections. BUMMER! There have been several occasions that a pretty fire would have been perfect, if only to boost my mood.
Today is bitterly cold. Have I made myself clear how much I detest Missouri weather? ass biting COLD. Negatives temps are predicted in the next few days. I WANT A FIREFUCKINGPLACE!
or a trip to the beach
Monday, January 04, 2010
Return of the QOD!
Exciting news today, The Qoddess has returned and started doing her Question Of the Day in the blogging world.
I'm one of the original QODsters, participating in daily emails sent out by Qoddess. She would generate a list of questions ranging from the mundane to the absurd. As answers rolled in she would forward them out so everyone could enjoy the goofy responses.
It's been fun being part of this circle and I've missed these questions quite a bit. She's asking that you pass on the link to your friends and come back every day to answer the newest set of questions.
http://qoddess.blogspot.com/
I'm one of the original QODsters, participating in daily emails sent out by Qoddess. She would generate a list of questions ranging from the mundane to the absurd. As answers rolled in she would forward them out so everyone could enjoy the goofy responses.
It's been fun being part of this circle and I've missed these questions quite a bit. She's asking that you pass on the link to your friends and come back every day to answer the newest set of questions.
http://qoddess.blogspot.com/
Bad Movies
I'm one of those people who will sit through a terrible movie. I'm would say it's laziness which explains a lot about me, but not for this. I get captivated, sucked in. I want to see how it ends no matter how crappy. Hell, I sit through commercials.
I think The Husband is testing me. He thoroughly enjoys old sitcoms. So do I. He really really likes Andy Griffith. I can tolerate it, like one episode here or there. It's not a bad show, but it is trying after five back to back episodes. After much teasing he has relented and saves Andy Griffith for times I'm not around. Instead, he'll watch the other gillion shows he's recorded like MASH, Magnum PI, and Bewitched. Okay, I LOVE Bewitched. I could watch all day marathons of Bewitched, but not the others. I like them, but come on, what about new stuff?
The other night he flipped on some movie from the Netflix Queue and I was happily surfing through blogs, half paying attention to the TV (the usual). Three times I asked if it was A-Team. I'm surprised that I actually like A-Team. It was one of those shows I was forced to watch as a kid because my brothers and step-father actually agreed on something. It's really not that bad despite the cheesy music and predictable plots. This movie he was watching reeked of 80's TV show. It had the same cheesy music, the warning tinkles that something was afoot and lots of racing cars and tin can sounding gun shots. I finally looked up from the laptop only to be greeted by the CRAPPIEST MOVIE EVER.
I'm not known for critiquing movies based on the technical qualities like acting, props, and other production pieces. I want the story. Remember, I want to see how it ends. But this movie, the one I fail to remember the name... hold on... ok, I just looked up our Netflix... Deadly Reckoning. Oh holy shit, this was BAD. I spent two hours heckling this thing.
The gunshots were the same sound as firecrackers in a tin can. When they had a shootout in the bookstore, the bullets failed to pierce the shelves, except the one time the machine gun shredded a wall of books. The other bullets were chalk. CHALK. They left little white circles on the wooden shelves with a dusty puff in the air. Good thing, too, it allowed the good guy hiding behind the wooden shelf to come running out with a never-depleting gun. Awesome invention, guns that never need to be reloaded. For the final shootout, you could actually see the blood packs under the actors' shirts. We rewinded just to point out the strange bulge under the shirts.
Oh and the locations they used. The little girl's bedroom was strategically filmed to just show a queen-sized bed placed coming out from a corner, as in no other decorations were in the room. That poor little girl, she only had a teddybear to her name. Of course that's where daddy dearest hid the computer disk. The hallway behind the dad as he whispered his goodnights had a shelf where all of the knick-knacks were pushed to one side that had the camera been position as originally planned would not have shown the blatant emptiness to the left. Mr. Simple Bookstore Owner suddenly had access to spacious Beverly Hills mansion and when there was a shootout in the gardens, they TWICE showed a handicapped parking sign.
I won't even get into the plot or dialog. It was just bad. To make thing even worse (yes, WORSE) he watched TWO of these suckwad movies back to back. And yet, I would rather sit through four hours of crap movies than four episodes of Andy. Either way, thank God for laptops!
And yet this man cannot sit through chick flicks. Go figure.
I think The Husband is testing me. He thoroughly enjoys old sitcoms. So do I. He really really likes Andy Griffith. I can tolerate it, like one episode here or there. It's not a bad show, but it is trying after five back to back episodes. After much teasing he has relented and saves Andy Griffith for times I'm not around. Instead, he'll watch the other gillion shows he's recorded like MASH, Magnum PI, and Bewitched. Okay, I LOVE Bewitched. I could watch all day marathons of Bewitched, but not the others. I like them, but come on, what about new stuff?
The other night he flipped on some movie from the Netflix Queue and I was happily surfing through blogs, half paying attention to the TV (the usual). Three times I asked if it was A-Team. I'm surprised that I actually like A-Team. It was one of those shows I was forced to watch as a kid because my brothers and step-father actually agreed on something. It's really not that bad despite the cheesy music and predictable plots. This movie he was watching reeked of 80's TV show. It had the same cheesy music, the warning tinkles that something was afoot and lots of racing cars and tin can sounding gun shots. I finally looked up from the laptop only to be greeted by the CRAPPIEST MOVIE EVER.
I'm not known for critiquing movies based on the technical qualities like acting, props, and other production pieces. I want the story. Remember, I want to see how it ends. But this movie, the one I fail to remember the name... hold on... ok, I just looked up our Netflix... Deadly Reckoning. Oh holy shit, this was BAD. I spent two hours heckling this thing.
The gunshots were the same sound as firecrackers in a tin can. When they had a shootout in the bookstore, the bullets failed to pierce the shelves, except the one time the machine gun shredded a wall of books. The other bullets were chalk. CHALK. They left little white circles on the wooden shelves with a dusty puff in the air. Good thing, too, it allowed the good guy hiding behind the wooden shelf to come running out with a never-depleting gun. Awesome invention, guns that never need to be reloaded. For the final shootout, you could actually see the blood packs under the actors' shirts. We rewinded just to point out the strange bulge under the shirts.
Oh and the locations they used. The little girl's bedroom was strategically filmed to just show a queen-sized bed placed coming out from a corner, as in no other decorations were in the room. That poor little girl, she only had a teddybear to her name. Of course that's where daddy dearest hid the computer disk. The hallway behind the dad as he whispered his goodnights had a shelf where all of the knick-knacks were pushed to one side that had the camera been position as originally planned would not have shown the blatant emptiness to the left. Mr. Simple Bookstore Owner suddenly had access to spacious Beverly Hills mansion and when there was a shootout in the gardens, they TWICE showed a handicapped parking sign.
I won't even get into the plot or dialog. It was just bad. To make thing even worse (yes, WORSE) he watched TWO of these suckwad movies back to back. And yet, I would rather sit through four hours of crap movies than four episodes of Andy. Either way, thank God for laptops!
And yet this man cannot sit through chick flicks. Go figure.
Sunday, January 03, 2010
Breaking The Bed
This year we bought a new bed, a beautiful, comfy, sizable king sleigh bed. Unfortunately it has a design flaw, eight tiny posts like extra legs supporting the slats. It's good in theory, but rather jacked up (literally?) in practice.
It doesn't allow one to store very much under the bed. Of course it also doesn't allow for monsters nor plotting assassins to hide under there either (BONUS).
Unfortunately, the little slat supports don't hold up to certain nocturnal "activities". As the bed shifts, the supports snag on the carpeting. The connecting screw bends and eventually wiggle out of the slat, falling to the floor, supporting no more. When the support parted ways from the slat it splintered the wood, further weakening it. By Friday night, just simply lying on the bed would elicit miniscule creaking sounds forewarning of a cataclysmic break. I couldn't stand it and sought refuge in my son's empty bed.
Yesterday was spent traipsing from Home Depot to Lowes seeking out cinder blocks and another brick to make up the height of the slat supports. It's a total bitch to hoist a king-sized mattress off the box springs, then find a place to stow the box springs so we could execute our repairs. Once the supports were replaced and the box springs and mattress returned to normal positions, ahhhhh... my bed was perfect. No more ominous creaking. I hadn't realized that the middle of the bed valley had crept into our lives again, forcing me to cling to the edge lest I get sucked into the black hole. The bed was once again perfectly flat.
Last night was splendid, comfortable, peaceful. It's sort of sad that a bed barely six months old would fall to pieces like that, but I'm glad we were able to repair it.
PS. Happy Birthday Apple Computers!
It doesn't allow one to store very much under the bed. Of course it also doesn't allow for monsters nor plotting assassins to hide under there either (BONUS).
Unfortunately, the little slat supports don't hold up to certain nocturnal "activities". As the bed shifts, the supports snag on the carpeting. The connecting screw bends and eventually wiggle out of the slat, falling to the floor, supporting no more. When the support parted ways from the slat it splintered the wood, further weakening it. By Friday night, just simply lying on the bed would elicit miniscule creaking sounds forewarning of a cataclysmic break. I couldn't stand it and sought refuge in my son's empty bed.
Yesterday was spent traipsing from Home Depot to Lowes seeking out cinder blocks and another brick to make up the height of the slat supports. It's a total bitch to hoist a king-sized mattress off the box springs, then find a place to stow the box springs so we could execute our repairs. Once the supports were replaced and the box springs and mattress returned to normal positions, ahhhhh... my bed was perfect. No more ominous creaking. I hadn't realized that the middle of the bed valley had crept into our lives again, forcing me to cling to the edge lest I get sucked into the black hole. The bed was once again perfectly flat.
Last night was splendid, comfortable, peaceful. It's sort of sad that a bed barely six months old would fall to pieces like that, but I'm glad we were able to repair it.
PS. Happy Birthday Apple Computers!
Saturday, January 02, 2010
2009 In Review
Despite putting 2009 quickly behind me, I filled out the following questionnaire about the past year. I stole the questions from Stacie's Madness:
1. What did you do in 2009 that you'd never done before? Nothing new comes to mind. A whole lot of the same ol same ol.
2. Did you keep your new years' resolutions, and will you make more for next year? I don't make resolutions
3. How will you be spending New Year's Eve? NYE 2009 will be spent like twenty years preceding it - hanging out with my friends
4. Did anyone close to you die? No one close to ME died, but hubby's best friend died a few weeks ago
5. What countries did you visit? Didn't leave the country, barely left the COUNTY except for the trip to Oklahoma
6. What would you like to have in 2010 that you lacked in 2009? I lacked weight loss in 2009 and would very dearly like to have that happen in significant ways in 2010. And stay that way.
7. What date from 2009 will remain etched upon your memory, and why? Significant date - Sept 26. The day I got married. Hard to forget because it was the SAME date that I got married the first time. Weird, I know.
8. What was your biggest achievement of the year? Biggest accomplishment - getting married.
9. What was your biggest failure? Keeping in contact with existing friends and family
10. Did you suffer illness or injury? nothing big, just a hacking cough that I've had for the last 3 weeks. Bigger news is that I got my first ever flu shot this year. My employer succumbed to dire warnings of swine flu and issued near-mandates for everyone to get shots.
11. What was the best thing you bought? NEW CAR! Awesome 2009 Maxima!
12. Where did most of your money go? A lot of large purchases occurred this year - furniture, fridge, computer, car. Just doing our part to keep the economy rolling.
13. What song will always remind you of 2009? Not sure. Probably something from Black Eyed Peas
14. What do you wish you'd done more of? Hang out with friends
15. What do you wish you'd done less of? Play on Facebook
16. What was your favourite TV program? Weeds. I finally got to watch True Blood and I liked that a lot too.
17. Do you hate anyone now that you didn't hate this time last year? I don't hate anyone. There are certain people that could fall off the face of the earth, making my life a lot easier, but I don't hate.
18. What was the best book you read? Silent On the Moor by Deanna Raybourn
19. What was your greatest musical discovery? Hell I don't know. Probably connecting the iPod to the car stereo and having a multiple CD player. Damn fine inventions.
20. What was your favorite film of this year? That is a really hard call since we got Netflix this year and I'm watching all sorts of movies out the wazzoo. One we really enjoyed, though, as Role Models.
21. What did you do on your birthday? On my birthday we went out to eat. Nothing spectacular. Which is a shame. People really should make more of a fuss. July 28th. Mark it on your calendars. You barely have seven months to prepare.
22. What kept you sane? Blogging, reading other people's blogs. Seriously. This is a fun pastime for me. Not very productive, but fun.
23. Who did you miss? Friends Vicki and Melinda. Glad we could connect on facebook, but need to see each other in person. Live.
24. Who was the best new person you met? Terry. Very interesting woman. She's the mom of the guy who died a few weeks ago.
25. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2009: Just reinforcement of old lessons, especially the ones I try to preach. Life does like to kick us in the ass and remind when we're getting too big for our britches.
1. What did you do in 2009 that you'd never done before? Nothing new comes to mind. A whole lot of the same ol same ol.
2. Did you keep your new years' resolutions, and will you make more for next year? I don't make resolutions
3. How will you be spending New Year's Eve? NYE 2009 will be spent like twenty years preceding it - hanging out with my friends
4. Did anyone close to you die? No one close to ME died, but hubby's best friend died a few weeks ago
5. What countries did you visit? Didn't leave the country, barely left the COUNTY except for the trip to Oklahoma
6. What would you like to have in 2010 that you lacked in 2009? I lacked weight loss in 2009 and would very dearly like to have that happen in significant ways in 2010. And stay that way.
7. What date from 2009 will remain etched upon your memory, and why? Significant date - Sept 26. The day I got married. Hard to forget because it was the SAME date that I got married the first time. Weird, I know.
8. What was your biggest achievement of the year? Biggest accomplishment - getting married.
9. What was your biggest failure? Keeping in contact with existing friends and family
10. Did you suffer illness or injury? nothing big, just a hacking cough that I've had for the last 3 weeks. Bigger news is that I got my first ever flu shot this year. My employer succumbed to dire warnings of swine flu and issued near-mandates for everyone to get shots.
11. What was the best thing you bought? NEW CAR! Awesome 2009 Maxima!
12. Where did most of your money go? A lot of large purchases occurred this year - furniture, fridge, computer, car. Just doing our part to keep the economy rolling.
13. What song will always remind you of 2009? Not sure. Probably something from Black Eyed Peas
14. What do you wish you'd done more of? Hang out with friends
15. What do you wish you'd done less of? Play on Facebook
16. What was your favourite TV program? Weeds. I finally got to watch True Blood and I liked that a lot too.
17. Do you hate anyone now that you didn't hate this time last year? I don't hate anyone. There are certain people that could fall off the face of the earth, making my life a lot easier, but I don't hate.
18. What was the best book you read? Silent On the Moor by Deanna Raybourn
19. What was your greatest musical discovery? Hell I don't know. Probably connecting the iPod to the car stereo and having a multiple CD player. Damn fine inventions.
20. What was your favorite film of this year? That is a really hard call since we got Netflix this year and I'm watching all sorts of movies out the wazzoo. One we really enjoyed, though, as Role Models.
21. What did you do on your birthday? On my birthday we went out to eat. Nothing spectacular. Which is a shame. People really should make more of a fuss. July 28th. Mark it on your calendars. You barely have seven months to prepare.
22. What kept you sane? Blogging, reading other people's blogs. Seriously. This is a fun pastime for me. Not very productive, but fun.
23. Who did you miss? Friends Vicki and Melinda. Glad we could connect on facebook, but need to see each other in person. Live.
24. Who was the best new person you met? Terry. Very interesting woman. She's the mom of the guy who died a few weeks ago.
25. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2009: Just reinforcement of old lessons, especially the ones I try to preach. Life does like to kick us in the ass and remind when we're getting too big for our britches.
Friday, January 01, 2010
Friday Fragments - Jan 1, 2010
-My beloved new car that experienced $4700 damage earlier this month had to go BACK INTO the shop for a loud noise that the mechanic guy tried to downplay before he actually heard it. And it took him all freaking day to replicate the noise so he was certain I was just an over-reacting woman who doesn't know anything about cars. Dude, if I can hear a "noise" over the radio in a brand new car then there is a problem because I blast that fucker. Once he ran the defroster and let the car warm up for several minutes THEN he heard the noise and like lickity split they fixed THEIR error when they recharged my AC by putting too much stuff in it. The thing could have exploded and I would have died. Assholes.
-My ex-hole was caught screwing around on his wife. I just want to walk up to him and thunk him in the forehead. What an idiot. The kids are seriously pissed off at him. Asshole.
-The plague is finally leaving my body. This one was sneaky, I never "felt" sick. I had a persistent cough and runny nose and blamed it all on allergies so I went to work and managed to infect all of my co-workers. Sorry. I truly didn't know I was sick. If it makes you feel any better I'm suffering asthma symptoms every time I walk outside.
-New Year's Eve was spent once again with my closest friends. This year, however, Booty bailed on us, sticking closer to home as her husband tended bar at the Moose Lodge. The evening was low key, but very fun. We played Cranium. Everyone agreed there should be an "adult" version with dirty questions. The playdoh was formed into both male and female genitalia as we waited our turns. Actually the female parts were SUPPOSED to be a cowboy hat. Do with that as you will.
-Today is our postponed Christmas with the kids. I'll update on that later over on Woes, Whoas, and Wahs. I'm hoping the surprise gifts come off with satisfactory responses.
I cannot express how happy a new year has begun. I don't do resolutions, but my biggest plans this year are to complete a writing project and get my ass into some exercise routine. I would love to blog every day, but that is certainly a plan that will go down in smoke probably by the first week.
Thank you for visiting my blog. I wish you and yours a very happy and prosperous new year!
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