Thursday, June 30, 2011
It's Been A Good Day Already...
The computer's operating as it should, the car is behaving itself beautifully (much to my relief), I just heard my favorite song (G n' R's Sweet Child O' Mine) and I've come from the bakery with good bread and a couple of lovely treats. I have more than enough good books to get me through the heat wave that's coming (it's supposed to be 94F tomorrow with a heat index of at least 105F - yuck, yuck, YUCK!!!). I picked up two books on the BBC list: Choderlos de Laclos' Les Liaisons Dangereuses and Dumas' The Three Musketeers. And, I got some great feedback on my writing endeavors. I called my favorite cousin early this morning for her opinion and she said she can't wait to hear more. I'm rewriting what I have so far because I felt like my normal voice wasn't coming through. Also, my original hero and heroine were a couple of saps and if they're sappy, then in my opinion, the whole story is gonna suck, so I'm making the chick more intrepid (but with a heart) and the dude an arrogant jackass. He's got to be a jackass because I think I might have her take him down several pegs and if he's miserable and pathetic like the original, I worry that the story won't be as juicy. Of course, I could keep him abject and put-upon and she could remain an icy bitch and I could write his comedown from the approach of "Ain't life a bitch/crappy things happen to good people". It's really a toss-up at this point. But it's fun.
Jumpy...
I have no clue why, but for the past couple of days, I've been vaguely scared. What of, I don't know. I'm a little edgy about the computer, a little edgy about the car, a little edgy about C.G. and just ever-so-slightly edgy about my book and yet, none of these things are really the main reason why I'm about to jump out of my skin. I don't know what is the cause. All I do know is that I have a huge butterfly infestation in my gut and I'm fidgety. The weird thing is that, on Tuesday morning, I awoke with the strongest feeling that something pretty damn nice is around the corner for me. Sometimes I think I need a regular dose of about 120 volts, and a nice, padded room to sleep in.
Book-wise, I'm still trying to figure out who my main characters are and what makes them tick. I think the whole story is going to end up depending on their personalities.
I cannot get this song out of my head tonight!
Book-wise, I'm still trying to figure out who my main characters are and what makes them tick. I think the whole story is going to end up depending on their personalities.
I cannot get this song out of my head tonight!
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
I Wanna Go Back to Typewriters And Encyclopedias...
I'm having more stinkin' computer trouble. Tried to get online about 45 minutes ago only to find out that the damn "Proxy Server is Refusing Connection". Again. This happened Saturday night, after I'd done some routine maintenance. I'd cleaned out the history/cookies/system, what-have-you, and then run my anti-malware program. The minute I did that, all hell broke loose and I had proxy problems. My brother told me to restore the system, which I did, and all was well. Til 45 minutes ago. I'm wondering, is this something I should contact my ISP about? I get my internet through the local cable company. I'm wondering if they would have anything to do with it? According to the anti-malware program, there are no viruses or worms or bugs or crickets or cooties. This damn machine is barely 2 years old so it shouldn't be going to hell this soon. Frustration!!! I'm going to have to take up my pen to soothe myself.
The writing is coming along. I'm sort of struggling a bit with my two main characters. I'm not sure, yet, who they are. The hero is sort of down on his luck, when I mean him to be arrogant and my heroine is kind of a cold, impervious bitch, when I mean her to be vulnerable, yet wild and reckless. The other thing that's bugging me is how juvenile and overly simplistic my writing seems to me. At times when I go back and reread it, it's not too bad, but at other times, I fear it smacks of 15-year old, 10th grade jackassery. Well, if the computer has a heart attack and dies (please, God, don't let it!), at least I'll have plenty of time to devote to my writing.
Speaking of writing, I finished Love in the Time of Cholera a short time ago. The Kite Runner is next. And since the weather is going to take a turn for the worse (e.g. it's going to get HOT and shitty again, starting tomorrow), I have reserved The Three Musketeers from the library. The only way I can get through the crappy summer heat is by going someplace dim and cool and burying my schnoz in a book.
So frustrated...
The writing is coming along. I'm sort of struggling a bit with my two main characters. I'm not sure, yet, who they are. The hero is sort of down on his luck, when I mean him to be arrogant and my heroine is kind of a cold, impervious bitch, when I mean her to be vulnerable, yet wild and reckless. The other thing that's bugging me is how juvenile and overly simplistic my writing seems to me. At times when I go back and reread it, it's not too bad, but at other times, I fear it smacks of 15-year old, 10th grade jackassery. Well, if the computer has a heart attack and dies (please, God, don't let it!), at least I'll have plenty of time to devote to my writing.
Speaking of writing, I finished Love in the Time of Cholera a short time ago. The Kite Runner is next. And since the weather is going to take a turn for the worse (e.g. it's going to get HOT and shitty again, starting tomorrow), I have reserved The Three Musketeers from the library. The only way I can get through the crappy summer heat is by going someplace dim and cool and burying my schnoz in a book.
So frustrated...
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Chocolate Cake That Won't Make Your Bum Big...
I just tried a new recipe I found in a magazine, courtesy of Hungry Girl (www.hungry-girl.com). It's really quite good and satisfies those dreadful, give-me-chocolate-or-I-will-kill-somebody cravings without causing one's backside to fall out of their Levi's.
1 tsp. instant coffee granules
1 tsp. mini chocolate chips
3 Tbsp. devil's food cake mix
1 Tbsp. fat-free sour cream
1 Tbsp. fat-free liquid egg substitute
1/4 tsp. vanilla extract
1/8 tsp. baking powder.
1 no-calorie sweetener packet
dash of salt
Coat an 8-oz. mug microwave-safe mug with cooking spray; fill with coffee granules and mini chocolate chips. Add 2 Tbsp. hot water and stir til ingredients have dissolved. Add remaining ingredients and mix well. Microwave for 1 min., 45 sec. Allow too cool slightly.
I forgot to buy the fake eggs at the store earlier and I had low fat sour cream, rather than fat-free, I forgot the sweetener packet and salt, plus my chocolate chips were the regular size, but this recipe turned out flippin' fabulous! I don't believe in everything being fat-free or artificially sweetened anyway. If the Good Lord had intended on making everything fat-free, He wouldn't have invented chocolate in the first place. Or pizza. Or tacos...God is good!
1 tsp. instant coffee granules
1 tsp. mini chocolate chips
3 Tbsp. devil's food cake mix
1 Tbsp. fat-free sour cream
1 Tbsp. fat-free liquid egg substitute
1/4 tsp. vanilla extract
1/8 tsp. baking powder.
1 no-calorie sweetener packet
dash of salt
Coat an 8-oz. mug microwave-safe mug with cooking spray; fill with coffee granules and mini chocolate chips. Add 2 Tbsp. hot water and stir til ingredients have dissolved. Add remaining ingredients and mix well. Microwave for 1 min., 45 sec. Allow too cool slightly.
I forgot to buy the fake eggs at the store earlier and I had low fat sour cream, rather than fat-free, I forgot the sweetener packet and salt, plus my chocolate chips were the regular size, but this recipe turned out flippin' fabulous! I don't believe in everything being fat-free or artificially sweetened anyway. If the Good Lord had intended on making everything fat-free, He wouldn't have invented chocolate in the first place. Or pizza. Or tacos...God is good!
We've Only Just Begun...
I've stopped whining and started writing, in an attempt to make a few desirable things happen; in an attempt to get a life - the whole premise of this damn blog. I'm not sure why I was dreading it. After having sort of a bad day, I'm finding writing to be an odd combination of soothing and like pulling teeth. But pulling teeth in a good way. Trouble is, I can't figure out a good name for my main character that isn't trite or ridiculous or dull. I'm not sure where the story - or any of this - will go but I'm hoping that all will go well. It might be awesome and it might suck. Either way, it's a nice change from sitting on my ass, whining and doing zip.
Monday, June 27, 2011
If It Has Tires Or Testicles...
This is the 2nd morning in a row that I've awakened well before the crack of dawn. Yesterday I was roused around 4 a.m. by two birds having a domestic altercation in the bush outside my window. This is also the 3rd night in a row that I had strange, inexplicable, and downright awful dreams, i.e. I weighed in at 938 lbs., I was fleeing a madman and chasing after another, I was trying to stop a friend from going to Baltimore to hook up with a scuzzy guy she met whilst playing pool, nuns figured in somewhere, too. Sometimes I have serious worries about my mental hygiene. I can't believe my mind conjures this crap up without the aid of alcohol or controlled substances. I rarely take aspirin and I still dream up Daliesque horrors.
This morning I woke just after 2 a.m., having had one dream after another about answering nature's call - because I actually needed to. I also awoke to terrible C.G. withdrawal and an urgent need to flee my life for something better. The need to flee is nothing new. I feel that every minute of every day. Impatience, my friends. It's a pain in the a**. I laid there in the dark, wishing with every fiber of my being that I could magically, spontaneously transform into a physically gorgeous multi-millionaire so that I could climb in the new car that would also have magically appeared and drive off in search of C.G., and then maybe to Minneapolis/St. Paul, to start a new and fabulous life. That fantasy killed any chance I might've had of going back to sleep. It's all I've thought of for the past 4 hours and around 3:45 a.m. I thought I'd die, the yearning got so bad. Yearning, my friends. It's a pain in the a**, too. About 15 minutes ago, my mind became lucid and I got to thinking. Why do women always do this to themselves? I know I'm not the only smart chick who puts herself through hell over some damn guy who doesn't know she exists. What if C.G. isn't as great as he seems to me? If I'm so smart, why have I built him up in my mind so much, when I know doing this is an injustice to us both? What if I would transform my life and get myself into a position where I could move to the Twin Cities and then find out that I hated it once I got there? Am I crazy? Finally, the smoke in my head really cleared and I thought to myself, "Damn it, I'm a fool! If I could spontaneously and magically transform in an instant, and had incredible beauty, unlimited finances, intellectual/social prowess and incredible personal charm, why the hell would I want to surrender all that freedom and limit myself to a guy who may or may not be a horse's a**? Why would I want to surrender anything and limit myself at all? Why give up being free and wild?" Lucidity, my friends. It shows a girl that she can be a crazy pain in the a**.
Every now and then, I come up for air and remind myself that he's not the only man alive. I remind myself that there's a world outside of the Midwest, far outside the Twin Cities. I remind myself that settling there could be settling, period, and that if I were ever in a position to relocate and do things up in the grand manner, it might be better to try Montreal or Toronto (hello Hockey Hall of Fame!), London or Paris, Boston or Seattle; that there are probably men far superior to C.G., whom I'd have a better chance of making happy and be made happy by them in return. There's an entire precious universe in being wild and free, of being unattached at present, and, though I have a rather hard time seeing it, an entire world of freedom in my current life. I saw a sign outside of a shop in Cedarburg a few weeks ago that said, "Life is art. Paint your dreams". I am in a position to paint any picture I want right now. Why limit myself to faded browns and dull greens when there are bright reds and rich purples on the palette?
Reminders, my friends. They help a girl not to be a pain in the a**.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TAI__h-Bxzo
This morning I woke just after 2 a.m., having had one dream after another about answering nature's call - because I actually needed to. I also awoke to terrible C.G. withdrawal and an urgent need to flee my life for something better. The need to flee is nothing new. I feel that every minute of every day. Impatience, my friends. It's a pain in the a**. I laid there in the dark, wishing with every fiber of my being that I could magically, spontaneously transform into a physically gorgeous multi-millionaire so that I could climb in the new car that would also have magically appeared and drive off in search of C.G., and then maybe to Minneapolis/St. Paul, to start a new and fabulous life. That fantasy killed any chance I might've had of going back to sleep. It's all I've thought of for the past 4 hours and around 3:45 a.m. I thought I'd die, the yearning got so bad. Yearning, my friends. It's a pain in the a**, too. About 15 minutes ago, my mind became lucid and I got to thinking. Why do women always do this to themselves? I know I'm not the only smart chick who puts herself through hell over some damn guy who doesn't know she exists. What if C.G. isn't as great as he seems to me? If I'm so smart, why have I built him up in my mind so much, when I know doing this is an injustice to us both? What if I would transform my life and get myself into a position where I could move to the Twin Cities and then find out that I hated it once I got there? Am I crazy? Finally, the smoke in my head really cleared and I thought to myself, "Damn it, I'm a fool! If I could spontaneously and magically transform in an instant, and had incredible beauty, unlimited finances, intellectual/social prowess and incredible personal charm, why the hell would I want to surrender all that freedom and limit myself to a guy who may or may not be a horse's a**? Why would I want to surrender anything and limit myself at all? Why give up being free and wild?" Lucidity, my friends. It shows a girl that she can be a crazy pain in the a**.
Every now and then, I come up for air and remind myself that he's not the only man alive. I remind myself that there's a world outside of the Midwest, far outside the Twin Cities. I remind myself that settling there could be settling, period, and that if I were ever in a position to relocate and do things up in the grand manner, it might be better to try Montreal or Toronto (hello Hockey Hall of Fame!), London or Paris, Boston or Seattle; that there are probably men far superior to C.G., whom I'd have a better chance of making happy and be made happy by them in return. There's an entire precious universe in being wild and free, of being unattached at present, and, though I have a rather hard time seeing it, an entire world of freedom in my current life. I saw a sign outside of a shop in Cedarburg a few weeks ago that said, "Life is art. Paint your dreams". I am in a position to paint any picture I want right now. Why limit myself to faded browns and dull greens when there are bright reds and rich purples on the palette?
Reminders, my friends. They help a girl not to be a pain in the a**.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TAI__h-Bxzo
Saturday, June 25, 2011
Shakin' In Our Boots...
Allow me to begin by apologizing for the dreadful fonts in my last post. I had some trouble getting the settings to stay as I wrote it.
Now, for tonight's subject: Fear. That awful, puke-making, mind-fuzzying, judgement-skewing feeling. I've been thinking about this all day. The more I think about it, the more I'm convinced that it is entirely possible to be afraid out of habit. I think that's where I am. I think that after a while, a person can become so accustomed to being afraid that it becomes his/her default setting, and he/she can end up forgetting what freaked them out in the first place. I think fear is my default. Then, I got wondering why. Why do people develop this default in the first place? Why did I? Why do people persist in making things hard on themselves (why do I?). And then I came to this conclusion: Knowing why is not necessarily important. Recognizing the tendency is. I thought about it a little more and realized that all the time a person spends kowtowing to the fear and all the time he/she spends trying to figure out why/when/where/how/what, is a means of stalling. Why? Fear. Of what? I don't know. The unknown, probably. Maybe because people (and I) fear they don't have the brains/courage/means/strength to handle the unknown. Indolence could be another reason. Being comfortable. It doesn't matter.
I suspect (based on my own experiences) that, if the fear is a vague, unspecified one, the way it starts is a person takes a notion into his/her head but doesn't seek out a way to disprove it. It builds up and builds up and then more and more crap gets piled on top and the original notion is distorted and the individual has a mess on his/her hands. It's hard to say which is worse: a specific fear or a vague, unspecified one. I suppose that, too, does not matter. What matters is recognizing the problem and growing a pair in order to face and overcome it.
This is where I am tonight. The thing to do now is gather courage because time's a-wasting. A round of drinks says that whatever it is that's tripping me up is really no big deal, and facing/overcoming it won't be that big a deal either. Fingers crossed...
Now, for tonight's subject: Fear. That awful, puke-making, mind-fuzzying, judgement-skewing feeling. I've been thinking about this all day. The more I think about it, the more I'm convinced that it is entirely possible to be afraid out of habit. I think that's where I am. I think that after a while, a person can become so accustomed to being afraid that it becomes his/her default setting, and he/she can end up forgetting what freaked them out in the first place. I think fear is my default. Then, I got wondering why. Why do people develop this default in the first place? Why did I? Why do people persist in making things hard on themselves (why do I?). And then I came to this conclusion: Knowing why is not necessarily important. Recognizing the tendency is. I thought about it a little more and realized that all the time a person spends kowtowing to the fear and all the time he/she spends trying to figure out why/when/where/how/what, is a means of stalling. Why? Fear. Of what? I don't know. The unknown, probably. Maybe because people (and I) fear they don't have the brains/courage/means/strength to handle the unknown. Indolence could be another reason. Being comfortable. It doesn't matter.
I suspect (based on my own experiences) that, if the fear is a vague, unspecified one, the way it starts is a person takes a notion into his/her head but doesn't seek out a way to disprove it. It builds up and builds up and then more and more crap gets piled on top and the original notion is distorted and the individual has a mess on his/her hands. It's hard to say which is worse: a specific fear or a vague, unspecified one. I suppose that, too, does not matter. What matters is recognizing the problem and growing a pair in order to face and overcome it.
This is where I am tonight. The thing to do now is gather courage because time's a-wasting. A round of drinks says that whatever it is that's tripping me up is really no big deal, and facing/overcoming it won't be that big a deal either. Fingers crossed...
A little bit of venting. Just a little..
You know, I think life was a little less frustrating when our technology consisted of the typewriter and a set of encyclopedias. My pc was running slow and I've been doing a lot of surfing lately, plus I downloaded the newest version of Firefox earlier in the week and it was being a pain, so I decided to clean up the system and run my anti-malware program. All was well until I tried to get back online to order Chinese delivered. Instead of the Yahoo homepage, I was greeted with the news that the Proxy thingy was messed up. I am NOT tech savvy, so my inner Linda Blair came out to play. After levitating for a while I texted my poor brother, on the first stage of his vacation (he's in Little Rock, Arkansas tonight), to help me. He told me to unplug the modem for a bit. No dice. Finally, he told me to go through the system restore thing and though it took for-freakin'-ever, I am back online. I started to levitate again when I attempted to order Chinese online only to be told that my favorite place was closed. Very grouchy but undaunted, I called the restaurant and they said that there was plenty of time for a delivery. So, that's a plus, and my head no longer spinning. I just wish I didn't get bent out of shape so easily. My grandpa was the most patient man on the planet and my mom's sister is almost as patient as he was. I wish that trait hadn't skipped me. I'm ashamed to say that I am atrociously impatient. I'm much better with children and animals than I am with adults and cars/computers. I've got to either learn patience or learn to conceal my frustration and irritation, so as to not drive others crazy and to keep my blood pressure low.
I'm pleased to say that I'm off the soda again and that I have not only finished The Count of Monte Cristo but that I'm almost done with Love in the Time of Cholera by Gabriel Garcia Marquez. I'll probably finish it tonight or tomorrow morning and once that's done I shall move on to The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini. I'm finding that, little by little, because of the BBC and Guardian book lists, I'm learning how to set goals and reach them. I'm not yet the goal-setter/achiever/mover-and-shaker that I want to be but small steps are o.k. I'm better than I was a week ago. Every little bit counts. I'm also finding that a good part of goal setting/achievement is making up your mind to do something. I cannot get over how powerful decisions are and how one seemingly little decision can change a person's entire mindset. Case in point: My killer craving for lovely Chinese food. I was bound and determined to have it and now it's on its way. I wonder if this making a decision stuff would work with the lottery?
I'm pleased to say that I'm off the soda again and that I have not only finished The Count of Monte Cristo but that I'm almost done with Love in the Time of Cholera by Gabriel Garcia Marquez. I'll probably finish it tonight or tomorrow morning and once that's done I shall move on to The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini. I'm finding that, little by little, because of the BBC and Guardian book lists, I'm learning how to set goals and reach them. I'm not yet the goal-setter/achiever/mover-and-shaker that I want to be but small steps are o.k. I'm better than I was a week ago. Every little bit counts. I'm also finding that a good part of goal setting/achievement is making up your mind to do something. I cannot get over how powerful decisions are and how one seemingly little decision can change a person's entire mindset. Case in point: My killer craving for lovely Chinese food. I was bound and determined to have it and now it's on its way. I wonder if this making a decision stuff would work with the lottery?
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Slightly odd...
Earlier today, I decided that as soon as I have enough money saved up, I'm going to treat myself to a little trip. I got on Orbitz this evening to get an idea of how much it'd set me back and this is what I found a bit goofy: If I go in January/February, I can get round trip airfare (to LaGuardia) and a hotel in NYC, just down the street from the Empire State Bldg., for 3 nights, for just $582. If I were to go to Chicago for the same amount of time, I would have to cough up nearly $700 and my hotel would be a real flea bag that's nowhere near downtown. I'd have to find transportation into the city. Now, I love Chicago, but where's the fun in that? I can drive there or take a train out of Milwaukee any old time. No, I want a jaunt that's out of the Midwest. I wonder if there'd be any good deals on a 3-day trip to New Orleans? Now THAT would be an adventure: Fantastic French, Cajun and Creole cuisine, history, culture, and a brief respite from the harsh Midwestern winter. I shall keep my fingers crossed and my eyes peeled.
What else? Oooh, I've been backsliding with regard to T-Tapp and better eating. Since I pulled a muscle in my leg last Wed. night, celebrating Boston's winning the Stanley Cup (victory dance gone very, very wrong), I haven't been able to exercise. In fact, I've only been walking normally again for about 2 days, and I still have to be very careful. I'll be surprised if I can resume tapping by Sunday. The other thing is that I'm drinking soda again. I had a diet coke to celebrate Boston (no champagne around)'s win and since then, I've been drinking carbonated beverages. I noticed a difference immediately. My eating habits went down the you-know-what. I feel awful, so getting myself back on track won't be difficult, and I won't feel any deprivation. I'm craving gallons of ice water with lemon juice squeezed in, and tons of salad. If I have to look at another piece of bread or any more cold cuts, I'll just drop dead. Ditto pie, cake, ice cream, cookies, candy, white pasta and anything else that could clog arteries or make the pancreas explode. I find myself wanting to be kidnapped by a rogue band of Vegans who would force me to eat organic produce for 6 months. This backslide is only a blip, so I'm not panicking. No big banana. When I do resume tapping, I'm going to measure myself first, so I can keep track of my progress. I forgot to measure when I started up last month. I know I made progress but I don't know how much. Naughty me!
413 pages left in The Count of Monte Cristo. My goal is to finish it by Saturday night. If I don't fall asleep the minute I crawl into bed, I hope to read at least 50-100 pages before I turn out the light...
UPDATE: I just rechecked Orbitz for packages to New Orleans. It is definitely do-able in Jan./Feb. I think I will avoid the hotel that got the following rating/feedback (the italics are mine):
The hotel is largely as described by most reviewers. The pictures are not representative of the actual location. We were checked into a balcony room(the complimentary upgrade), which consisted simply of a room on the second level. We were around the corner from a communal balcony, which was highly rotted, causing me to worry about its structural integrity. Our room was roughly nine feet by twelve feet and was air conditioned by a single window unit. The mattress had multiple cigarette burns and looked quite old however for the condition it was in it was fairly comfortable(no bed bugs). The shower water pressure was dismal at best, making showering a rather long process(no shampoo and condition provided). I feel the best way to sum up the property was in the restroom next to the sink. There was an apparent old issue with some dry wall, possibly punched through or water damaged. Rather than spending money to fix the issue correctly(requiring only 20 dollars in materials and 40 minutes) they plastered over it, without sanding it down, and did not throw any paint on it. It was clear that the owners have little interest in maintaining the property, even for very small issues. The continental breakfast was a toaster and English muffins, as well as blueberry muffins(Coffee was also provided). There was also a booger on the wall next to the bed. I recommend checking the "Hotel's" website before booking. No parking, there are lots with in and out privileges for 15 a night within walking distance. I would recommend for anyone traveling on an extremely small budget. At $50 a night, budget travelers could easily over look the lack of amenities. Cliff notes: Positives: Location, friendly staff Negatives: Poorly maintained and not very clean.
What else? Oooh, I've been backsliding with regard to T-Tapp and better eating. Since I pulled a muscle in my leg last Wed. night, celebrating Boston's winning the Stanley Cup (victory dance gone very, very wrong), I haven't been able to exercise. In fact, I've only been walking normally again for about 2 days, and I still have to be very careful. I'll be surprised if I can resume tapping by Sunday. The other thing is that I'm drinking soda again. I had a diet coke to celebrate Boston (no champagne around)'s win and since then, I've been drinking carbonated beverages. I noticed a difference immediately. My eating habits went down the you-know-what. I feel awful, so getting myself back on track won't be difficult, and I won't feel any deprivation. I'm craving gallons of ice water with lemon juice squeezed in, and tons of salad. If I have to look at another piece of bread or any more cold cuts, I'll just drop dead. Ditto pie, cake, ice cream, cookies, candy, white pasta and anything else that could clog arteries or make the pancreas explode. I find myself wanting to be kidnapped by a rogue band of Vegans who would force me to eat organic produce for 6 months. This backslide is only a blip, so I'm not panicking. No big banana. When I do resume tapping, I'm going to measure myself first, so I can keep track of my progress. I forgot to measure when I started up last month. I know I made progress but I don't know how much. Naughty me!
413 pages left in The Count of Monte Cristo. My goal is to finish it by Saturday night. If I don't fall asleep the minute I crawl into bed, I hope to read at least 50-100 pages before I turn out the light...
UPDATE: I just rechecked Orbitz for packages to New Orleans. It is definitely do-able in Jan./Feb. I think I will avoid the hotel that got the following rating/feedback (the italics are mine):
The hotel is largely as described by most reviewers. The pictures are not representative of the actual location. We were checked into a balcony room(the complimentary upgrade), which consisted simply of a room on the second level. We were around the corner from a communal balcony, which was highly rotted, causing me to worry about its structural integrity. Our room was roughly nine feet by twelve feet and was air conditioned by a single window unit. The mattress had multiple cigarette burns and looked quite old however for the condition it was in it was fairly comfortable(no bed bugs). The shower water pressure was dismal at best, making showering a rather long process(no shampoo and condition provided). I feel the best way to sum up the property was in the restroom next to the sink. There was an apparent old issue with some dry wall, possibly punched through or water damaged. Rather than spending money to fix the issue correctly(requiring only 20 dollars in materials and 40 minutes) they plastered over it, without sanding it down, and did not throw any paint on it. It was clear that the owners have little interest in maintaining the property, even for very small issues. The continental breakfast was a toaster and English muffins, as well as blueberry muffins(Coffee was also provided). There was also a booger on the wall next to the bed. I recommend checking the "Hotel's" website before booking. No parking, there are lots with in and out privileges for 15 a night within walking distance. I would recommend for anyone traveling on an extremely small budget. At $50 a night, budget travelers could easily over look the lack of amenities. Cliff notes: Positives: Location, friendly staff Negatives: Poorly maintained and not very clean.
Monday, June 20, 2011
Getting The Lead Out...
It finally dawned on me that, despite having a blog and some grand ideas, I don't really have any concrete goals written down. That's probably not a good thing. So, I'd like to take this opportunity to list a few things that I'd like to do in order to achieve a higher level of fabulousness and fulfillment in my life.
1. One thing I want is to become very well-read. Finding the BBC and Guardian(UK)'s Must-Read book lists was fortuitous. I have thoroughly enjoyed plowing my way through them. In the past month and a half, I have read Charles Dickens' Great Expectations and A Tale of Two Cities, Thackery's Vanity Fair, and De Berniere's Corelli's Mandolin. I am currently reading Alexandre Dumas' The Count of Monte Cristo - and a corking good read it is. Once I've finished pouring over the adventures of Edmond Dantes, I shall move on to Love in the Time of Cholera, and The Kite Runner. Fortunately, The Guardian's list is not just full of fiction. It also lists many books about government and some History. Ultimately, I wand to read things like Machiavelli's The Prince, Lao-Tzu's The Art of War, and the writings of Socrates as well as the other ancients.
2. Another thing I'm dying to become is extremely well-traveled. I want to see every corner of the world. If this is not possible, I want to see as much of it as I can. I thrive on going new places and trying new things. This is where a winning lottery ticket would come in handy. I could hop the first plane out of O'Hare and be in Paris or Istanbul, Calcutta or St. Petersburg, Jerusalem or Rio. I want to see Petra, the Via Dolorosa, the Pyramids at Giza, the Taj Mahal, St. Basil's, Notre Dame/Sacre Coeur/Sainte-Chapelle, Christ of the Andes, Westminster Abbey, The Great Wall of China and Versailles. By this weekend, preferrably. Travel is a great educator and it doesn't matter if you go to see the Buddhist temples in Thailand or eat your lunch in a different park. This entry flows into the next...
3. I want to have a new adventure every week. Since I am not (currently) overburdened with the worldly wealth that would enable me to be a 21st century Marco Polo, my adventures are not going to be considered grand and glorious. However, I firmly believe that there is no such thing as a small adventure. Whether it's trying a new food or going a different way to work/school, it qualifies as adventure and it's all good. Fabulous doesn't happen overnight. Small steps are more than acceptable. I'm lucky enough to live in an area that offers many opportunities for entertainment and edification. My town is a darn good place to start. And if I can start here, who knows where I could go...
4. I'm a good cook. I would enjoy getting better. I have no desire to attend the Cordon Bleu but that doesn't mean I can't learn new recipes and techniques. I can expand my repertoire quite nicely at home. I want to try a new recipe or two each week: Indian (Curry Chicken or Chicken Korma), Chinese (General Tso's Chicken), cappuccino cheesecake, Tiramisu, Coq au Vin and Beef Wellington are just a few things I want to attempt. A new recipe each week would be an adventure in itself.
5. I want to shed the blubber that's currently clinging to my frame. I want to get fit. I want to have the most magnificent damn figure I can get. Adiposity is a terrible burden physically, mentally/emotionally, and socially. I want to see what a better body can get me in terms of physical health, mental well-being and social freedom. This will be another adventure.
6. I want to get my personal space cleaned and better organized. My bedroom is deplorably dusty and cluttered with books, shoes, clothes and cosmetics, but mostly books. I want to pare down, reorganize and polish everything to a fare-thee-well. I want to make my space the cleanest, neatest, prettiest and most fragrant space possible, and keep it that way. I've gotten to the point where I can't think in a mess.
7. I want to become as well-educated as possible. Harvard is out of the question but true fabulousness doesn't necessarily come out of the Ivy League. I intend on returning to University as soon as finances permit to finish my degree (Foreign Languages) and maybe get a postgraduate degree (possibly in Library Science). This one kind of scares me a bit, because I can be a somewhat indifferent student in classes that don't generally interest me, plus, Math and Math-based Science courses are sort of my Waterloo. Almost everything else is as easy and effortless as blinking. I want to conquer my indifference and fear of Mathematics so as to become as well-educated as possible, plus I want to brush up on my etiquette, which is not easy to do in an era and society where manners no longer seem to matter. If I'm going to travel, the last thing I want is to go around with my ignorance on display, especially in foreign lands. I want people to say, "You know, I never used to like Americans, but Lily changed my mind - she has a brain and good manners." I don't care if I'm in Iowa or Vatican City, I don't want to leave people behind who feel affronted and disrespected.
8. I want to get over past sorrows and not continue to allow them to negatively affect today and tomorrow. I want to conquer my tendency to whine and complain. I want to take the cards I've been dealt and play them well and with grace. I also want to clean up my language. I could make a longshoreman blush with shame. That's appalling. I'm terrified of slipping and letting loose at an inopportune moment or in front of decent people, or worse yet, children.
9. I want to stop whining and cowering and write my books. Just to see if I can and, maybe down the line, get published. I may not become another JK Rowling but maybe I could still become pretty hot stuff in the book world. At the very least, it'd be an adventure.
10. I want to look back at the end of my life and be satisfied. I want to use my struggles and triumphs to help struggling people. I want to live with grace and aplomb, humor and fire, passion and valor. When I turn up my toes I want people to laugh when they think of me, rather than cry. In fact, I think my funeral should be more of a cocktail party. Before Janis Joplin died, she set aside money for people to buy booze and organize a bash in her memory. If I die wealthy, I think I'll do the same. And as for my interment, just cremate me and bury me beneath center ice at the local Hockey rink. That's my idea of a peaceful repose.
1. One thing I want is to become very well-read. Finding the BBC and Guardian(UK)'s Must-Read book lists was fortuitous. I have thoroughly enjoyed plowing my way through them. In the past month and a half, I have read Charles Dickens' Great Expectations and A Tale of Two Cities, Thackery's Vanity Fair, and De Berniere's Corelli's Mandolin. I am currently reading Alexandre Dumas' The Count of Monte Cristo - and a corking good read it is. Once I've finished pouring over the adventures of Edmond Dantes, I shall move on to Love in the Time of Cholera, and The Kite Runner. Fortunately, The Guardian's list is not just full of fiction. It also lists many books about government and some History. Ultimately, I wand to read things like Machiavelli's The Prince, Lao-Tzu's The Art of War, and the writings of Socrates as well as the other ancients.
2. Another thing I'm dying to become is extremely well-traveled. I want to see every corner of the world. If this is not possible, I want to see as much of it as I can. I thrive on going new places and trying new things. This is where a winning lottery ticket would come in handy. I could hop the first plane out of O'Hare and be in Paris or Istanbul, Calcutta or St. Petersburg, Jerusalem or Rio. I want to see Petra, the Via Dolorosa, the Pyramids at Giza, the Taj Mahal, St. Basil's, Notre Dame/Sacre Coeur/Sainte-Chapelle, Christ of the Andes, Westminster Abbey, The Great Wall of China and Versailles. By this weekend, preferrably. Travel is a great educator and it doesn't matter if you go to see the Buddhist temples in Thailand or eat your lunch in a different park. This entry flows into the next...
3. I want to have a new adventure every week. Since I am not (currently) overburdened with the worldly wealth that would enable me to be a 21st century Marco Polo, my adventures are not going to be considered grand and glorious. However, I firmly believe that there is no such thing as a small adventure. Whether it's trying a new food or going a different way to work/school, it qualifies as adventure and it's all good. Fabulous doesn't happen overnight. Small steps are more than acceptable. I'm lucky enough to live in an area that offers many opportunities for entertainment and edification. My town is a darn good place to start. And if I can start here, who knows where I could go...
4. I'm a good cook. I would enjoy getting better. I have no desire to attend the Cordon Bleu but that doesn't mean I can't learn new recipes and techniques. I can expand my repertoire quite nicely at home. I want to try a new recipe or two each week: Indian (Curry Chicken or Chicken Korma), Chinese (General Tso's Chicken), cappuccino cheesecake, Tiramisu, Coq au Vin and Beef Wellington are just a few things I want to attempt. A new recipe each week would be an adventure in itself.
5. I want to shed the blubber that's currently clinging to my frame. I want to get fit. I want to have the most magnificent damn figure I can get. Adiposity is a terrible burden physically, mentally/emotionally, and socially. I want to see what a better body can get me in terms of physical health, mental well-being and social freedom. This will be another adventure.
6. I want to get my personal space cleaned and better organized. My bedroom is deplorably dusty and cluttered with books, shoes, clothes and cosmetics, but mostly books. I want to pare down, reorganize and polish everything to a fare-thee-well. I want to make my space the cleanest, neatest, prettiest and most fragrant space possible, and keep it that way. I've gotten to the point where I can't think in a mess.
7. I want to become as well-educated as possible. Harvard is out of the question but true fabulousness doesn't necessarily come out of the Ivy League. I intend on returning to University as soon as finances permit to finish my degree (Foreign Languages) and maybe get a postgraduate degree (possibly in Library Science). This one kind of scares me a bit, because I can be a somewhat indifferent student in classes that don't generally interest me, plus, Math and Math-based Science courses are sort of my Waterloo. Almost everything else is as easy and effortless as blinking. I want to conquer my indifference and fear of Mathematics so as to become as well-educated as possible, plus I want to brush up on my etiquette, which is not easy to do in an era and society where manners no longer seem to matter. If I'm going to travel, the last thing I want is to go around with my ignorance on display, especially in foreign lands. I want people to say, "You know, I never used to like Americans, but Lily changed my mind - she has a brain and good manners." I don't care if I'm in Iowa or Vatican City, I don't want to leave people behind who feel affronted and disrespected.
8. I want to get over past sorrows and not continue to allow them to negatively affect today and tomorrow. I want to conquer my tendency to whine and complain. I want to take the cards I've been dealt and play them well and with grace. I also want to clean up my language. I could make a longshoreman blush with shame. That's appalling. I'm terrified of slipping and letting loose at an inopportune moment or in front of decent people, or worse yet, children.
9. I want to stop whining and cowering and write my books. Just to see if I can and, maybe down the line, get published. I may not become another JK Rowling but maybe I could still become pretty hot stuff in the book world. At the very least, it'd be an adventure.
10. I want to look back at the end of my life and be satisfied. I want to use my struggles and triumphs to help struggling people. I want to live with grace and aplomb, humor and fire, passion and valor. When I turn up my toes I want people to laugh when they think of me, rather than cry. In fact, I think my funeral should be more of a cocktail party. Before Janis Joplin died, she set aside money for people to buy booze and organize a bash in her memory. If I die wealthy, I think I'll do the same. And as for my interment, just cremate me and bury me beneath center ice at the local Hockey rink. That's my idea of a peaceful repose.
Sunday, June 19, 2011
Happy Fathers Day...
to all you dads, grandpas, stepdads and father figures out there. I hope you get nice dinners and good, long naps!
Saturday, June 18, 2011
Alter Egos and Evil Twins?
I've been pondering the idea of alter egos and evil twins this afternoon. A few years ago, as I was standing in the checkout line at the grocery store, I picked up a copy of Cosmopolitan to kill time. One of the articles I read talked about taking risks, dealing with uncertainty and conquering fear. One of the pieces of advice recommended embracing the "dark side" of yourself, and letting your "evil twin" have control, because the evil twin doesn't have the hang-ups and fears of the individual, plus, she's usually a hell of a lot more fun. Letting her rule from time to time can get good results and bring about more fulfillment. As I thought about this, I remembered an interview I took on Facebook a couple of years ago. One of the questions was, "Describe your evil twin". I described her as being unapologetically sexy. She dressed in red, low-cut dresses, showed cleavage and leg, wore stilettos and lots of smoky eye makeup, had big hair, was bold and fearless and didn't give a damn what people thought. She didn't sit on her duff, whining and pining, she put on her red dress and high heels, applied some shriekingly bright lipstick, hiked up her boobs, added a bit more eyeliner and a healthy blast from her bottle of Opium and took on the world with her head held high and her chest out. No fear, no guilt. Sexy and bold - but with a heart. My evil twin doesn't put up with any crap but she also doesn't like to hurt anyone. It's been a long time since I've allowed her to come out a little. Because I fear disapproval and punishment, I have never really let her come out and run things. I guess I don't trust her not to do something foolish and harmful. That's not fair, because my evil twin also has tons of brains, and I don't let her go full-throttle, just like I haven't allowed my normal self to go full-throttle, either. Now, enough whining...she wouldn't like it. She wouldn't do it, either.
This whole thing makes me wonder: What if my evil twin is actually the true and good side? What if her being in charge would bring about A LOT more good than bad? What if this whiny, weak-willed, stuck-in-the-past me is the evil side? I know that if I let the bad girl rule, I would run into a lot of opposition and disapproval, and it would come from people who are, to be frank, scared shitless of their own shadows. They were raised never to talk back, never to speak up, never to defend themselves, and to fear authority, especially God. Somebody was gonna get 'em, otherwise. It's now longer 1960 and their views just aren't working for me. Take the typical 16-18-year old of 2011...if you dumped this kind of crap on them, they'd make a rude gesture, say a few rude words and go on to do their own thing.
I swear, guilt, shame and fear are the worst emotions there are (besides hatred) and the threat of guilt/shame/fear is one of the worst things to hold over someone's head. One of the worst things a person can do to him/herself is to try to be someone else. I know, because I've done that a lot and the results have not been good.
But I digress.
Right now, Lily, as you know me, is my online alter ego - the whole privacy/discretion thing, remember? Lily has a lot of the traits of my evil twin, although I let too much of my own whining get in. What didn't occur to me until last night is that, traditionally, lilies are seen as a symbol of purity. "Lily" is not pure. She's not a tramp, but she's not some archaic idea of what a nice girl ought to be. Maybe she should be behind the wheel.
I guess the trick is going to be to allow her more freedom while not letting fear of disapproval and "consequences" keep her back. Cool, sexy chicks don't like being repressed. Lily's ticked off and ready to chew through the muzzle, bite a few fingers. I think she'd be a lot tougher than the fear if I'd allow her to be. It won't happen in 24 hours but maybe that's o.k. Maybe the evolution will be the fun part.
Nota Bene: Isn't the new Lady Gaga song, "Edge of Glory" the coolest? I cannot get it out of my head.
This whole thing makes me wonder: What if my evil twin is actually the true and good side? What if her being in charge would bring about A LOT more good than bad? What if this whiny, weak-willed, stuck-in-the-past me is the evil side? I know that if I let the bad girl rule, I would run into a lot of opposition and disapproval, and it would come from people who are, to be frank, scared shitless of their own shadows. They were raised never to talk back, never to speak up, never to defend themselves, and to fear authority, especially God. Somebody was gonna get 'em, otherwise. It's now longer 1960 and their views just aren't working for me. Take the typical 16-18-year old of 2011...if you dumped this kind of crap on them, they'd make a rude gesture, say a few rude words and go on to do their own thing.
I swear, guilt, shame and fear are the worst emotions there are (besides hatred) and the threat of guilt/shame/fear is one of the worst things to hold over someone's head. One of the worst things a person can do to him/herself is to try to be someone else. I know, because I've done that a lot and the results have not been good.
But I digress.
Right now, Lily, as you know me, is my online alter ego - the whole privacy/discretion thing, remember? Lily has a lot of the traits of my evil twin, although I let too much of my own whining get in. What didn't occur to me until last night is that, traditionally, lilies are seen as a symbol of purity. "Lily" is not pure. She's not a tramp, but she's not some archaic idea of what a nice girl ought to be. Maybe she should be behind the wheel.
I guess the trick is going to be to allow her more freedom while not letting fear of disapproval and "consequences" keep her back. Cool, sexy chicks don't like being repressed. Lily's ticked off and ready to chew through the muzzle, bite a few fingers. I think she'd be a lot tougher than the fear if I'd allow her to be. It won't happen in 24 hours but maybe that's o.k. Maybe the evolution will be the fun part.
Nota Bene: Isn't the new Lady Gaga song, "Edge of Glory" the coolest? I cannot get it out of my head.
Just a little test.
O.k., I want to just run a little test to see which fonts are the easiest on the eyes. This is Georgia.
Now for Times. The last thing I want to do is cause eye-strain.
I don't know...Helvetica? Is that ok?
Here's Verdana. It looks like a broader Helvetica. I might just do Georgia. We shall see...
Of course, there is Courier. I think I like Georgia the best.
I think picking out shoes is easier, :-)
Now for Times. The last thing I want to do is cause eye-strain.
I don't know...Helvetica? Is that ok?
Here's Verdana. It looks like a broader Helvetica. I might just do Georgia. We shall see...
Of course, there is Courier. I think I like Georgia the best.
I think picking out shoes is easier, :-)
Friday, June 17, 2011
Yuck! Too much whining!
I've been unforgivably whiny this week. I know I'm not the only one with car trouble, man trouble and no money. So, it's time for randomness and something a bit more pleasant.
One of my favorite things to do when I wake up really early in the morning is brew a pot of coffee and listen online to the AM station in the Minnesota town where we lived when I was little. Especially to the Minnesota farm report. For some reason I find farm reports interesting. I always learn something new. For instance, I didn't know that as of last week Ohio and Indiana were behind on corn planting but that North Dakota, Minnesota, Wisconsin and Nebraska were doing well. Besides, there's something very soothing about listening to AM radio in the early morning, particularly if it comes from a tiny little town in the middle of nowhere. The pace is slower, the announcers aren't slick or smarta**ed, they play songs by Sam Cooke, Sinatra, Dean Martin and Petula Clark, they announce townspeople's birthdays and they talk about bar league softball. Everything is gentle and pleasant, with sort of a church-supper, homemade rhubarb crunch, my-grandma-knitted-me-these-mittens, drowsy, summertime-cookout, Sunday-afternoon feeling to it. Even in January when it's -40F. They need to pipe this sh*t into dentists' offices and rooms where they do mammograms. I listen to it and forget about the unpleasantness in the world. It really takes the edge off.
You're NEVER too old to blow bubbles in chocolate milk, or blow bubbles, period.
You're never too old to blow spitballs at your brother or have your mother yell at you for doing so.
You're never too old for a pillowfight.
I like Julio Iglesias and Neil Diamond. And I can totally understand why women get hot and bothered over Tom Jones.
Jurgen Prochnow is an amazing actor and he needs to be a lot more famous outside Germany. He was awesome in Das Boot - gorgeous, too.
007 films are awesome and I wish I could be a real-life Bond Girl: gorgeous, intelligent, talented, able to get out of dreadful situations and look hot doing it, all whilst helping to vanquish actual bad guys and make the world safe, and then getting to enjoy a little discreet romance with a gorgeous secret agent. But something tells me MI6 doesn't need much of this kind of help.
For me, the greatest smells in the world are: Guerlain's Vol de Nuit, the local Hockey rink, Lilacs, Roses, chocolate, that musty/dusty smell when it first starts raining, Catalpa and Russian Olive trees, phlox, coffee, bacon, homemade bread and/or chocolate chip cookies baking, Pine-Sol, Comet Cleanser, wild clover, fresh-cut hay, newly-mown grass, Vidalia onions frying, a cookout, Italian restaurants on a warm night, the smell of damp earth at the end of winter/early spring, new books(especially textbooks), Lake Michigan at the end of winter/early spring, hardware stores, garden centers, cocoa bean mulch, homemade chicken noodle soup, a baseball stadium around the bottom of the 4th inning when the scent of hot dogs, cotton candy, popcorn and beer are all mixed together, a baby who's just had a bath, lemons, church incense.
The greatest sounds in the world are: Rain, church bells, church bells on a rainy morning, thunderstorms, stuff getting sucked up the vacuum, that chirpy noise that cats make when they're cruising for food or when you wake them up, a crowd going nuts at a hockey game, stuff getting sucked up a vacuum, the opening guitar intro to Sweet Child O' Mine, a baby with a belly laugh, cardinals, Janis Joplin's laugh, Susan Sarandon's voice(it's very soothing), the voice of that PBS artist Bob Ross(he died in 1995 but you can still sometimes catch his show Joy of Painting...his voice is like valium for the ears), big waves on Lake Michigan or any body of water, dry leaves skittering around, frogs in early spring, crickets, a cello played well, the overture to The Marriage of Figaro, a good tenor singing Nessun Dorma and Una Furtiva Lagrima, music from the Motown era.
Other great things: A new diary, a new book, new shoes, a new pen, new school supplies, a full moon over the water, those creepy, spooky nights that you get in October where it's not warm but it's not cold, either, and the wind blows like mad; wild nights in early April when the snow is gone and the wind picks up and it rains like crazy; long drives, Fleetwood Mac, a new purse, a clean bathroom, freshly-ironed sheets, finding the perfect shade of lipstick by accident, winning a dollar or two on a scratch-off ticket, winning $50 on a scratch-off, no library fines, trying a new food or a new restaurant, petting a horse, petting a horse that doesn't bite, playing tug-of-war with a dog, chubby babies, fat cats, baby bunnies, violets, watching the sun or moon rise, fireflies, Minneapolis/St. Paul, Chicago, riding a train, driving late at night during one HELL of a thunderstorm, crab cakes, salmon, lemon meringue pie, seeing the Milky Way, the night sky in winter, days when your legs look 5 miles long, having someone else wash your hair, a manicure, perfectly waxed or plucked eyebrows, a new bottle of perfume, a new bottle of nail polish, a stack of fashion magazines, deliciously trashy romance novels, antique handkerchiefs, free iTunes downloads, flirting, flea markets, farmers markets, fresh corn on the cob that's dripping in butter, watermelon, blueberries, the music of Aretha Franklin and/or Tina Turner, stilettos that are both sexy and not too uncomfortable.
There's a grocery store in the area that sells Louis Treize brandy at $1200/bottle. You're basically paying $1200 to either go to the bathroom or barf. If I had the kind of finances that would enable me to buy booze this expensive, I'd be buying Louboutins from Neiman Marcus or giving a salesman at Tiffany's a commission.
Why does Callista Flockhart always end up playing whiny characters?
Can we get George Carlin back? Please?
Who's going to win the Stanley Cup in 2012?
When is Dallas going to return to TV? I heard that they're bringing it back this year and Larry Hagman, Patrick Duffy, Charlene Tilton, Linda Gray and Steve Kanaly will be reprising their roles.
If they're bringing back Dallas will they attempt to bring back Dynasty? Of course, they'd have to find a new Blake, what with John Forsythe dying a few years ago...
...and Joan Collins is still the coolest EVER! She was fantastic on Dynasty and I loved it when she'd guest star on The Nanny. I love the story of how she ran into a (very drunk) former lover at a party and he screamed at her, "You're a f***ing bore" and she calmly looked at him and said, "But darling, you're a boring f***!" That'll shut a guy up.
O.k., people, let's hear what floats your boats! What do you simply adore?
One of my favorite things to do when I wake up really early in the morning is brew a pot of coffee and listen online to the AM station in the Minnesota town where we lived when I was little. Especially to the Minnesota farm report. For some reason I find farm reports interesting. I always learn something new. For instance, I didn't know that as of last week Ohio and Indiana were behind on corn planting but that North Dakota, Minnesota, Wisconsin and Nebraska were doing well. Besides, there's something very soothing about listening to AM radio in the early morning, particularly if it comes from a tiny little town in the middle of nowhere. The pace is slower, the announcers aren't slick or smarta**ed, they play songs by Sam Cooke, Sinatra, Dean Martin and Petula Clark, they announce townspeople's birthdays and they talk about bar league softball. Everything is gentle and pleasant, with sort of a church-supper, homemade rhubarb crunch, my-grandma-knitted-me-these-mittens, drowsy, summertime-cookout, Sunday-afternoon feeling to it. Even in January when it's -40F. They need to pipe this sh*t into dentists' offices and rooms where they do mammograms. I listen to it and forget about the unpleasantness in the world. It really takes the edge off.
You're NEVER too old to blow bubbles in chocolate milk, or blow bubbles, period.
You're never too old to blow spitballs at your brother or have your mother yell at you for doing so.
You're never too old for a pillowfight.
I like Julio Iglesias and Neil Diamond. And I can totally understand why women get hot and bothered over Tom Jones.
Jurgen Prochnow is an amazing actor and he needs to be a lot more famous outside Germany. He was awesome in Das Boot - gorgeous, too.
007 films are awesome and I wish I could be a real-life Bond Girl: gorgeous, intelligent, talented, able to get out of dreadful situations and look hot doing it, all whilst helping to vanquish actual bad guys and make the world safe, and then getting to enjoy a little discreet romance with a gorgeous secret agent. But something tells me MI6 doesn't need much of this kind of help.
For me, the greatest smells in the world are: Guerlain's Vol de Nuit, the local Hockey rink, Lilacs, Roses, chocolate, that musty/dusty smell when it first starts raining, Catalpa and Russian Olive trees, phlox, coffee, bacon, homemade bread and/or chocolate chip cookies baking, Pine-Sol, Comet Cleanser, wild clover, fresh-cut hay, newly-mown grass, Vidalia onions frying, a cookout, Italian restaurants on a warm night, the smell of damp earth at the end of winter/early spring, new books(especially textbooks), Lake Michigan at the end of winter/early spring, hardware stores, garden centers, cocoa bean mulch, homemade chicken noodle soup, a baseball stadium around the bottom of the 4th inning when the scent of hot dogs, cotton candy, popcorn and beer are all mixed together, a baby who's just had a bath, lemons, church incense.
The greatest sounds in the world are: Rain, church bells, church bells on a rainy morning, thunderstorms, stuff getting sucked up the vacuum, that chirpy noise that cats make when they're cruising for food or when you wake them up, a crowd going nuts at a hockey game, stuff getting sucked up a vacuum, the opening guitar intro to Sweet Child O' Mine, a baby with a belly laugh, cardinals, Janis Joplin's laugh, Susan Sarandon's voice(it's very soothing), the voice of that PBS artist Bob Ross(he died in 1995 but you can still sometimes catch his show Joy of Painting...his voice is like valium for the ears), big waves on Lake Michigan or any body of water, dry leaves skittering around, frogs in early spring, crickets, a cello played well, the overture to The Marriage of Figaro, a good tenor singing Nessun Dorma and Una Furtiva Lagrima, music from the Motown era.
Other great things: A new diary, a new book, new shoes, a new pen, new school supplies, a full moon over the water, those creepy, spooky nights that you get in October where it's not warm but it's not cold, either, and the wind blows like mad; wild nights in early April when the snow is gone and the wind picks up and it rains like crazy; long drives, Fleetwood Mac, a new purse, a clean bathroom, freshly-ironed sheets, finding the perfect shade of lipstick by accident, winning a dollar or two on a scratch-off ticket, winning $50 on a scratch-off, no library fines, trying a new food or a new restaurant, petting a horse, petting a horse that doesn't bite, playing tug-of-war with a dog, chubby babies, fat cats, baby bunnies, violets, watching the sun or moon rise, fireflies, Minneapolis/St. Paul, Chicago, riding a train, driving late at night during one HELL of a thunderstorm, crab cakes, salmon, lemon meringue pie, seeing the Milky Way, the night sky in winter, days when your legs look 5 miles long, having someone else wash your hair, a manicure, perfectly waxed or plucked eyebrows, a new bottle of perfume, a new bottle of nail polish, a stack of fashion magazines, deliciously trashy romance novels, antique handkerchiefs, free iTunes downloads, flirting, flea markets, farmers markets, fresh corn on the cob that's dripping in butter, watermelon, blueberries, the music of Aretha Franklin and/or Tina Turner, stilettos that are both sexy and not too uncomfortable.
There's a grocery store in the area that sells Louis Treize brandy at $1200/bottle. You're basically paying $1200 to either go to the bathroom or barf. If I had the kind of finances that would enable me to buy booze this expensive, I'd be buying Louboutins from Neiman Marcus or giving a salesman at Tiffany's a commission.
Why does Callista Flockhart always end up playing whiny characters?
Can we get George Carlin back? Please?
Who's going to win the Stanley Cup in 2012?
When is Dallas going to return to TV? I heard that they're bringing it back this year and Larry Hagman, Patrick Duffy, Charlene Tilton, Linda Gray and Steve Kanaly will be reprising their roles.
If they're bringing back Dallas will they attempt to bring back Dynasty? Of course, they'd have to find a new Blake, what with John Forsythe dying a few years ago...
...and Joan Collins is still the coolest EVER! She was fantastic on Dynasty and I loved it when she'd guest star on The Nanny. I love the story of how she ran into a (very drunk) former lover at a party and he screamed at her, "You're a f***ing bore" and she calmly looked at him and said, "But darling, you're a boring f***!" That'll shut a guy up.
O.k., people, let's hear what floats your boats! What do you simply adore?
I think my Fairy Godmother is on a Cigarette Break.
It all started with a Hockey injury. No, I don't play Hockey, which is a pity. I love the game so. In fact, I can't even ice skate. How 'bout that? I can manage quite beautifully in 6-inch stilettos but not on ice skates. No, what befell me on Wednesday night started as a joyous blessing. My dear, sweet, lovely (if you can use those words to describe a couple dozen hairy, sweaty, testosterone-filled, short-tempered men who wield sticks and may or may not still have all their own teeth) Boston Bruins beat the Vancouver Canucks 4-0, and won their first Stanley Cup since 1972. As the final buzzer sounded in Rogers Arena in Vancouver and various Bruins enfolded one another in bear hugs, I began shrieking and jumping about in raucous celebration of this miracle. On my last leap, I came down on my feet wrong and HARD and proceeded to pull the hell out of my left calve muscle. Cue even louder shrieking and a few choice words. I've been icing my leg and limping about ever since. It's not fun. I can't do T-Tapp. I'm eating absolute garbage, I can't wear cute shoes. The only enjoyable thing left to me is reading. Thank goodness for books. I am currently plowing my way through another entry on my BBC book list: The Count of Monte Cristo, by Alexandre Dumas. It's a corking good read and helps me to forget about my bum leg and the fact that the car is REALLY going to hell fast. I think it's going to have to go in Monday. I hope it'll last that long. I went for lunch with my cousin this afternoon and that damn heap of junk had me sweating bullets. The good thing is that I had a cheeseburger with sweet chili sauce served on a bun made out of pretzel dough and it was AWESOME! The restaurant also had butcher paper and a glass of crayons on each table so my cousin and I amused ourselves by drawing farm animals until our food arrived. Too bad chocolate milk wasn't on the beverage menu, we could've blown bubbles.
There are 108 days til the NHL regular season starts up again and probably about 130 days til the college and amateur Hockey seasons begin around here. I have no clue where C.G. is and I'm ambivalent at present. Right now I don't give a damn if he falls off the edge of the earth or decides to put on a sirloin suit and wrestle lions. Ten minutes from now I'll be biting my nails, wondering where he is, what he's up to, if he's chasing floozies...The car's going to take at least $500 to fix the fuel intake gasket and another $150 or so for the fuel injector. My limp is pulling me to the left. It hurts, too. That'll take at least another week to heal. I'm still struggling a bit with fear of doing/taking risks/low confidence. And I'm eating too much trashy food. Everything feels really out of control right now and I'm kind of scared. I could've sworn that I had a fairy godmother at some point but right now I can't find the b*tch. I'm not sure if she's out back having a smoke or if she knocked off really early and joined a bunch of other fairy godmothers at some dive bar for Happy Hour and 1/2-price appetizers. I don't care if she wants to go out drinking but I wish she'd take me with her because I'd love a Long Island Iced Tea. And if I can't go bar-hopping with her, I wish she'd just leave me her magic wand for a few hours. A couple of swoops with that thing and I'd have $20 billion, a new Nissan Altima, a great body (hello bodacious tatas!) and the face of an angel. All I need are those few basics.
There are 108 days til the NHL regular season starts up again and probably about 130 days til the college and amateur Hockey seasons begin around here. I have no clue where C.G. is and I'm ambivalent at present. Right now I don't give a damn if he falls off the edge of the earth or decides to put on a sirloin suit and wrestle lions. Ten minutes from now I'll be biting my nails, wondering where he is, what he's up to, if he's chasing floozies...The car's going to take at least $500 to fix the fuel intake gasket and another $150 or so for the fuel injector. My limp is pulling me to the left. It hurts, too. That'll take at least another week to heal. I'm still struggling a bit with fear of doing/taking risks/low confidence. And I'm eating too much trashy food. Everything feels really out of control right now and I'm kind of scared. I could've sworn that I had a fairy godmother at some point but right now I can't find the b*tch. I'm not sure if she's out back having a smoke or if she knocked off really early and joined a bunch of other fairy godmothers at some dive bar for Happy Hour and 1/2-price appetizers. I don't care if she wants to go out drinking but I wish she'd take me with her because I'd love a Long Island Iced Tea. And if I can't go bar-hopping with her, I wish she'd just leave me her magic wand for a few hours. A couple of swoops with that thing and I'd have $20 billion, a new Nissan Altima, a great body (hello bodacious tatas!) and the face of an angel. All I need are those few basics.
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
LIFT-OFF! WE HAVE LIFT-OFF!
No more problems, Houston. It seems that setting the comments as a pop-up was the way to go.
Ahhhh....I am happy! :-)
Ahhhh....I am happy! :-)
Testing...
...Geez, I wonder if I actually have to follow my own blog in order to be able to post comments on it...wouldn't that be random?
Oh Dear...
Does anyone else out there have trouble posting comments to their own blog or to other people's blogs? I thought that switching over to a GMail e-mail account would help the situation but so far I am having no luck. I don't want any of you to think that I'm ignoring your comments, and believe me, I am so grateful that you're all following me, lending support, allowing me to whine incessantly, etc. It'd be nice to be able to respond to all of your comments, as well as to comment on all your posts.
Do any of you know how this could be fixed? Blogspot is like my landlord: Doesn't fix anything. Lol...kinda :-)
Do any of you know how this could be fixed? Blogspot is like my landlord: Doesn't fix anything. Lol...kinda :-)
Monday, June 13, 2011
Fear and Loathing...and Control?
I want to be rich in the worst way. I don't care if I win the lottery or write best-sellers, I want to be loaded. Filthy, dirty, stinking, nasty, obscenely rich. I just won't marry some poor chump for it. I couldn't look myself in the eye if I did.
Why do I want to be loaded? Well, not just to fill my closet with Louboutins and little red boxes from Cartier. I want the freedom. I've done the broke thing all my life. It lost its charm a long time ago. When I was about 20 I thought it'd be hilarious to say a prayer to St. Anthony, patron saint of lost items, and tell him that I misplaced $50 million, just to see if he'd buy it. "...the last time I saw it was when I put it at the bottom of my sock drawer and now I can't find it anywhere..." I'm sure Tony was amused, but I have yet to see stacks of $100s in my sock drawer with a note saying, "You left these on the dining room table next to your sunglasses and the TV Guide. Love, Anthony".
I have some impediments to getting loaded though. One of which is, I don't know what to do. I'm not interested in Law or Medicine and I'm definitely not interested in Business. I'd sooner knot a rope around my neck and kick the chair out from under myself than go into the corporate grind. It's fine for some but I don't think it would be for me. Nor do I have much of an entrepreneurial spirit. I can barely solve a quadratic equation - how the hell am I supposed to invent something or get something off the ground?
Another problem is lack of confidence. I'll keep the sob story brief so none of you throw up. Didn't have the happiest childhood. Lots of moving around, a shitload of bullying from 2nd-12th grade, unhappy parents, unhappy sibling, money trouble...blah, blah, blah. Logically, I know that I can no longer get away with blaming the bullshit from the past for my crappy present. And, logically, I realize that today is a clean slate, tomorrow is a clean slate, the day after that is, ad infinitum. But I keep going back to the same old argument. If I wasn't liked/loved/wanted/valued/believed-in/tolerated, etc. back then, how do I know I will be today or tomorrow? If people thought I was shit then, maybe I still am shit, and will I ever change? That brings me to another argument...
...Personal power and control. Dad was a teacher and a musician and worked hellish hours. An 80-hr work week was not uncommon, and this was long before the days when people had to work 2 and 3 jobs just to buy generic Mac n' Cheese. Everything always hinged on Dad's schedule, moods, preferences, whether or not he was tired or hungry (he was always both), what kind of a day he'd had, etc. More often than not he'd come home in a foul humor and make us want to smack him. We could never make plans because at the last minute, he'd often be called in to work. There was zero job security, also. We moved all the time. There was a stretch where I attended 5 schools in 5 years, 3 of which were in different cities and one in a different state. Once I got to high school it became, "Will everything be alright today? Will people leave me alone or hurt me somehow? Will I get beaten up if I take the bus? Will I be jumped and killed in the bathroom or on the walk home from the bus stop?". I learned early that everything in my life seemed to depend on the whims others. I was at their mercy then and now I feel as though I still am. I don't believe that I determine the outcome of my life. I'd love to start believing but I don't know how.
Now, here's where it gets shitty: I want to write a book. No, make that books. Best-sellers, preferrably. All my life, teachers, friends, relatives, relatives' friends have told me that I need to either work in a bookstore, write for a living, or be a librarian. Generally, writing is as easy as blinking for me. I would adore becoming filthy-rich by writing fantastic novels. But...someone else determines whether or not they get published. Readers determine if they sell. I could write my ass off and create novels that would rival anything by Dickens, Austen and J.K. Rowling combined but if people don't buy them, they don't sell. Again, no power, no control, zip. Someone else determines what happens.
And it doesn't help that I feel as though time is of the essence. The car's a heap of garbage, gas prices suck, the grocery bill ages me 10 years in 10 seconds. I'm scared and impatient and mad as hell. I want to party my ass off for a little while to make up for my less-than-stellar youth. I want to get away from the people that drive me crazy. Frankly, I'd like to put several states between myself and them. I want to call the shots in my own life as much as possible and realize that I do have power. I want to stop feeling undesirable, like there's something wrong with me and I want to stop feeling like God's plan for my life is nothing but 80-90 years of failure. I'm scared stiff.
Why do I want to be loaded? Well, not just to fill my closet with Louboutins and little red boxes from Cartier. I want the freedom. I've done the broke thing all my life. It lost its charm a long time ago. When I was about 20 I thought it'd be hilarious to say a prayer to St. Anthony, patron saint of lost items, and tell him that I misplaced $50 million, just to see if he'd buy it. "...the last time I saw it was when I put it at the bottom of my sock drawer and now I can't find it anywhere..." I'm sure Tony was amused, but I have yet to see stacks of $100s in my sock drawer with a note saying, "You left these on the dining room table next to your sunglasses and the TV Guide. Love, Anthony".
I have some impediments to getting loaded though. One of which is, I don't know what to do. I'm not interested in Law or Medicine and I'm definitely not interested in Business. I'd sooner knot a rope around my neck and kick the chair out from under myself than go into the corporate grind. It's fine for some but I don't think it would be for me. Nor do I have much of an entrepreneurial spirit. I can barely solve a quadratic equation - how the hell am I supposed to invent something or get something off the ground?
Another problem is lack of confidence. I'll keep the sob story brief so none of you throw up. Didn't have the happiest childhood. Lots of moving around, a shitload of bullying from 2nd-12th grade, unhappy parents, unhappy sibling, money trouble...blah, blah, blah. Logically, I know that I can no longer get away with blaming the bullshit from the past for my crappy present. And, logically, I realize that today is a clean slate, tomorrow is a clean slate, the day after that is, ad infinitum. But I keep going back to the same old argument. If I wasn't liked/loved/wanted/valued/believed-in/tolerated, etc. back then, how do I know I will be today or tomorrow? If people thought I was shit then, maybe I still am shit, and will I ever change? That brings me to another argument...
...Personal power and control. Dad was a teacher and a musician and worked hellish hours. An 80-hr work week was not uncommon, and this was long before the days when people had to work 2 and 3 jobs just to buy generic Mac n' Cheese. Everything always hinged on Dad's schedule, moods, preferences, whether or not he was tired or hungry (he was always both), what kind of a day he'd had, etc. More often than not he'd come home in a foul humor and make us want to smack him. We could never make plans because at the last minute, he'd often be called in to work. There was zero job security, also. We moved all the time. There was a stretch where I attended 5 schools in 5 years, 3 of which were in different cities and one in a different state. Once I got to high school it became, "Will everything be alright today? Will people leave me alone or hurt me somehow? Will I get beaten up if I take the bus? Will I be jumped and killed in the bathroom or on the walk home from the bus stop?". I learned early that everything in my life seemed to depend on the whims others. I was at their mercy then and now I feel as though I still am. I don't believe that I determine the outcome of my life. I'd love to start believing but I don't know how.
Now, here's where it gets shitty: I want to write a book. No, make that books. Best-sellers, preferrably. All my life, teachers, friends, relatives, relatives' friends have told me that I need to either work in a bookstore, write for a living, or be a librarian. Generally, writing is as easy as blinking for me. I would adore becoming filthy-rich by writing fantastic novels. But...someone else determines whether or not they get published. Readers determine if they sell. I could write my ass off and create novels that would rival anything by Dickens, Austen and J.K. Rowling combined but if people don't buy them, they don't sell. Again, no power, no control, zip. Someone else determines what happens.
And it doesn't help that I feel as though time is of the essence. The car's a heap of garbage, gas prices suck, the grocery bill ages me 10 years in 10 seconds. I'm scared and impatient and mad as hell. I want to party my ass off for a little while to make up for my less-than-stellar youth. I want to get away from the people that drive me crazy. Frankly, I'd like to put several states between myself and them. I want to call the shots in my own life as much as possible and realize that I do have power. I want to stop feeling undesirable, like there's something wrong with me and I want to stop feeling like God's plan for my life is nothing but 80-90 years of failure. I'm scared stiff.
Friday, June 10, 2011
Separation Anxiety and possible Abandonment Issues.
I got to Hertz at 10:00 on Wed. morning and they handed me the "key" to a magnificent, 2011 Nissan Altima. It was like driving a magic cloud. It handled so beautifully, it was nearly silent when idling, the seats cradled the lower back lovingly, and there was so much leg room I think I could've loaded a dozen people in there. Going over bumpy roads and bad train tracks was nothing. I could've gone over a cliff and not felt a thing on impact. Key-less entry, key-less ignition(which I still wasn't quite used to this morning), gorgeous, gorgeous, GORGEOUS!!! The best gas mileage I've ever seen on a car, too. I went 274 miles and used up just a half tank of gas. And let me tell you, I didn't exactly lollygag on the freeway, either. I think I did a good 75-80 m.p.h. and the needle on the gauge didn't move. I wasn't too thrilled when I had to blow $41 for a little over 10 gallons of gas this morning, but that's a small price to pay for driving a vehicle that was obviously designed by God and built by angels.
Chris, the 4 kids and I bummed around a lot. On Wed. afternoon, he and I hit Goodwill to browse. I found a set of 16 very nice glasses and a matching pitcher, plus a lovely sterling silver pin for my mother. Grand total: $20 and change. Wed. evening was graduation. The middle school orchestra played a couple of pieces and sounded like two cats brawling in the middle of a logging camp. I believe the piece played was The Screeches and Toots Sonata in D flat. I think the director may have shot himself afterwards, poor man.
I awoke at 5:30 a.m. yesterday and went like a paper devil the entire time. Chris and I hit another thrift store, 3 rummage sales and a coffee shop by 10 o'clock, when the girls called us, wanting us to take them to McDonald's. We ended up going to George Webb(a chain of greasy spoon restaurants in Wisconsin, primarily Milwaukee. Good food, cheap. They also serve the best Boston Cream Pie I've ever tasted). There we met Chris' mom and 2-yr old nephew, whereupon I tried to teach him how to blow bubbles in chocolate milk. It's never too early to learn basic life skills and you're never too old to blow bubbles in your chocolate milk. After Webb's, we hit Goodwill again, 5 more rummage sales and another thrift store. Everyone was exhausted and took naps. I drove to Cedarburg to nose around. I got there a little too late for serious shopping, as everything closes up at 5 o'clock on the dot, but I had a nice, leisurely stroll up and down Washington Ave. and took lots of pictures. I'm glad I went unaccompanied. It's been a long time since I've gone anywhere special by myself or driven this far alone. It was good medicine. It's good to know that I don't need to wait around for anyone. I'm a different person when traveling and yesterday was like being let out of a cage - I only way I can describe it is with the words "wild elation".
Leaving Cedarburg was a different story. The last thing I wanted to do was return to my usual life of a crappy, falling-apart car, money worries, man trouble, weight/body issues, limitations, etc. Having to return the car was the most gut-wrenching of all. For me, a car is not just a means to get from Point A to Point B. It's like a magic carpet. It's possibility. I love to drive, I love to be out and about. Most of all, I love the freedom of being out on my own, late at night or early in the morning, driving around, even if it's just to the grocery store. Nobody to impress, nobody to cater to, nobody to nag me or remind me of my shortcomings. All I have to do is keep it between the ditches and watch out for deer and speed traps. I think I am the most genuine me when I drive. The only other time I'm that real is when I travel or have some kind of adventure, big or small. I wanted so badly to keep this interlude going. I suppose it would be safe to say that the separation anxiety and abandonment issues aren't just about having to return my lovely magic carpet(which damn near killed me. I tried to talk the lady at Hertz into letting me trade her my heap of shit for the Altima. She said no). They're about the split between what I feel is the real me and the me I was and have gone back to being. Too bad I didn't get to keep the car in this divorce...
On the bright side, this was a good opportunity and a nice break from the usual b.s. Not only did I get to rent a car for the first time, but they gave me a car that I've been interested in for some time. I got to see a dear, dear childhood friend, and goof around with my 4 sweet girls. I got to bargain hunt. I got to expose myself to the loveliness and grace of architecture, antiques and nature. I got to smell the roses, literally. I got to laugh myself silly. I got to see what's possible if I get knuckle down and get busy.
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