Adopting M.E.

Remembering CJ

2010-04-23T07:15:00.003-04:00

Hello. I've been away for quite a while, and, although I've been planning to return, this is absolutely not the way I wanted to do it.

I am one of the lucky people who knew CJ Twomey. When I first met CJ, he was still a kid. I worked with his mom, Hallie, and she invited me over to her house. I remember meeting CJ and his brother Connor, liking them immediately, and thinking to myself that they would get along great with my two boys. That is indeed what happened - my kids thought her kids were great fun, and whenever they got together, riotous laughter always resulted.

My older son, Brandon, has worked as a counselor and lifeguard of a local summer camp for 4 or 5 years, and for two glorious summers, CJ worked there, too. Brandon told me at the end of CJ's first week that CJ was a natural counselor (high praise from the veteran!) and that the kids loved him.

I find that easy to believe. Everyone loved CJ. He was smart, funny and kind. He had a way of making you feel as if you were the most important person in the world. He and I shared a sort of twisted sense of humor, and I always felt as if he 'got' me, even back when we first met. I'll never forget that night he made me laugh so hard I held my sides and begged for mercy. CJ, I'll miss your laugh most of all.

I was fortunate to know him, to see him mature into the wonderful, loving man that he became. My heart aches for his loss - for myself, for Brandon and his other friends, for everyone whose lives he touched in person or through this amazing internet, for his beautiful Danielle, but most of all for his devoted family. He leaves a void that cannot be filled, and I pray for strength and comfort for Hallie, John, Connor and their loving extended family.

It was my privilege to know this extraordinary young man. I love you, CJ.

Today's Blog Is Sponsored By The Letter H...For HALLIE, My Amazing Friend Who Agreed to Post This Entry For Me. (She MAY Have Come Up With This Title)

2009-11-13T09:32:00.003-05:00

Well, I’m here! I’ve been wanting to post for a long time, and I made the commitment that I would manage, come hell or high water, to post a Friday Fragments post today (Jocelyn, this one’s for you!) Friday Fragments is hosted by Mrs. 4444 over at Half Past Kissin’ Time, who I’m sure has completely forgotten me, but who I’m hoping will welcome me back after a much-too-long absence.

* My new job (hey, how long do I get to keep calling it my NEW job? I’ve been here 8 weeks already!) is still taking up the lion’s share of my days. Yesterday I left my house at 6:50 AM and returned at 8:30 PM. That’s a long day. The biggest problem is that I have to fit all the other things I have to do into the few short hours I have at home. My weekends are a whirlwind of chores – shopping, laundry, bank, library – and I still don’t have enough time to get it all done. It’s a good thing I like this job; actually, after 14 months of unemployment, I’m grateful every day to have a job at all.

* What do I miss the most? You – all of you out in blog land. I wonder every day how you’re all doing, and what’s going on in your lives. I absolutely hate the idea that I’m missing out on your adventures, and I’m determined to find a way to get back to the blogosphere somehow. I’m still thinking audio blogs are the way to go, but I’m not sure I have the technical knowledge to make it happen. Maybe in the meantime, we should work out a schedule: I’ll assign you each a day and time to call me during my long commute and you can read me your blogs! Yeah, yeah, I know you’re all busy too, but really, isn’t it all about me?

* You may be happy to know that the clothing crisis has been solved, at least for the time being. A very dear friend has donated to me two large boxes of professional-looking clothes that, along with what I already had, make me look good enough to go to work every day. Jacqueline, you are my angel! I could use a few things to help round out my wardrobe, so I’m watching the sales, but I can manage right now. Whew, that’s such a relief. Who knew looking good enough for your job would be such a stressful thing?

* I got a new computer set-up at my job this week, and it came with two giant flat-screen monitors and a bunch of high-tech-looking hardware. My desk now looks like the bridge of the Star Trek Enterprise. The second monitor is incredibly handy, allowing me to keep my boss’s calendar open for constant monitoring while I open other applications on the other one. I was thinking, though, that maybe I should open my favorite blogs on one monitor, so that I can read a few lines at a time in between various emergencies that I seem to be constantly dealing with on the other screen. Hmmmm. Food for thought.

* Every day on my way to work, I pass the street where the woman I believe is my birth mother lives. I actually work only a few blocks away from her house. It feels weird. I’m not sure exactly what I think, but it’s frustrating knowing that she LIVES RIGHT THERE and yet she may as well be a million miles away. For those of you who worry that I might become a stalker, I want to assure you that I have – so far – resisted the urge to detour down her street. See? I’m maintaining my mental health. No, really, I am.

That’s all I have time for today, but I swear that I’m back, and I’ll be around to visit you very soon. I miss you all terribly, and can’t wait to spend some time catching up on your lives.

Friday Fragments - Before Dawn Edition

2009-10-02T06:33:00.002-04:00

It’s happened again – a whole week has gone by, and it’s time for Friday Fragments again. This is the place to report all those crazy, funny and random thoughts that roam around your brain during the week. The big brain, who keeps track of all the Friday Fragmenters, is Mrs. 4444 over at Half Past Kissin’ Time. Go check her out – she’s a real, conscientious blogger (unlike me, who can’t seem to get her act together!) and she’s a hoot, too.

* I’m having blogosphere withdrawal. These 11 and 12 hour days are seriously cutting into my blog time. I started blogging during my 14 months of unemployment, and it became one of my favorite parts of my day, visiting my friends around the world. Now, I’m getting home late, having to rush around getting dinner, do a few chores and falling into bed, exhausted. There just hasn’t been time to even turn on my computer. I got up an extra half hour early this morning (4:45) so that I had time to at least post my Fragments!

* Not being able to read blogs is the worst part. I feel like all my bloggy friends are on vacation, and I can only wonder what a great time they’re all having. You’re all lucky I don’t know your phone numbers, because I’m on the road for about two hours and 15 minutes every day, and I’d be calling you, insisting you READ me your blog. Hey – that’s a great idea! Let’s organize some AUDIO blogs. I could download them to my Ipod every day, and listen during my commute. That’s BRILLIANT. I’m a GENIUS. Or is it just so early that my brain isn’t working yet? Hmmm. Better think on that.

* As soon as I’m not job-shadowing my predecessor, I’m sure I’ll have time to read a few blogs throughout the day, on breaks or at lunch, and I will NOT be working 9-10 hours every day. There is no reason one can’t leave that job after 8 hours – except for the occasional event or big project – and that’s going to be my goal. I have GOT to find time for some fun and relaxation, or I’ll burn out, and I don’t want to do that. I really, really think I’m going to like this job.

* Don’t you hate things that beep for no reason? We have a couple of things in our house that beep and we don’t know why. We’ll be sitting in the living room, playing cards, and we’ll hear this beep from somewhere in the next room. Nobody’s cell phone is there, and we can’t figure out what beeped. It drives me nuts.

* On a related note, I also hate beeping on TV. All the new medical dramas have this incessant beeping throughout the show, and it makes me want to scream. I know that real hospitals have beeping, and they’re just trying to make it realistic and all, but I’m not buying that excuse. In real hospitals, the nurses do NOT all look gorgeous, with perfect hair and make-up. And the sick people don’t, either. If they’re willing to overlook the fact that normal hospitals have normal-looking doctors, nurses and patients, then let’s just agree to forgo the whole beeping thing, okay?

* Okay, that’s all I have time for. I miss you all terribly, and I promise to come and visit you soon.

Friday Fragments - Late for Work Edition

2009-09-25T06:45:00.002-04:00

Friday Fragment time. It’s the place to release your random thoughts so that they my fly free like a butterfly. If they come back to you…run! Mrs. 4444 started this whole thing, and keeps track of us all over at Half Past Kissin’ Time. Come join the party.

* I started my new job on Monday, and the good news is that I think I’m going to be very happy there. The people are just terrific, and the work seems both interesting and challenging. I actually think I might have found the right position after a year of looking.

* Even though I’m liking the new job, actually working for a living is going to take some getting used to…

* My commute is about an hour (give or take 10 minutes) each way, and traffic is proving to be a daily thorn in my side. It’s a good thing I have books on my Ipod to keep me company, because sitting still – on a road where cars should be moving at 40 miles an hour – is not my idea of fun. I’m getting a lot of books read – well, read to me – and it helps keep me calm, as well as makes me feel better, since I don’t have much time to read books with pages right now.

* I need to get my stamina up. Being home, working on the computer in my pajamas, taking a break whenever I felt like it – is a lot different that leaving your house at 6:50 AM and returning home at 6:30 PM. I’m so tired – mentally and physically – that I can hardly talk by the time I get home. By the time I’ve done dishes, laundry, and gotten my clothes ready for the next day, I’m exhausted. Hopefully I’ll get back in the swing soon.

* I wonder what the record is for highest number of individual blisters on one foot? I never would have guessed this, but the issue of what shoes to wear has become the biggest challenge of all. I’ve been wearing flip-flops or those stretchy clogs for a year. I pulled out my dressier shoes, but they don’t fit my left foot anymore (if you missed the earlier post, I injured my foot last winter, and somehow ended up with a left foot that is significantly wider than my right). I bought a couple of pairs of new shoes, and they probably would have been fine, except that this job has a lot of walking in it (something I would NEVER have guessed). I must have walked 5 miles or more at least two separate days this week. I have blisters everywhere – yesterday I had 7 band-aids on one foot and 5 on the other. When I got out of my car at home last night, I was saying “Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow” every time I took a step.

* I have had no blog-reading time. None. I haven't even checked my email. I can't stand it - I'm wondering how everyone is. I hope I can catch up this weekend.

* As a bonus to my new job, I have also discovered the true nature of love (and I’m willing to share the secret with you!) Love is…

Standing in a cold, dark, nearly-deserted parking lot at 9:30 at night, even though you are bone-tired, alternately pretending to be the curb or a vehicle, so that your child can practice parallel parking for his driving test. It still counts as love, even if you are praying “don’t hit me…don’t hit me…” the whole time.

* By the way – Alex passed his driving test! Congrats, honey. I knew you could do it.

Friday Fragments - Random is my middle name

2009-09-18T10:42:00.003-04:00

Time again for Friday Fragments – although I’m so late today, I bet nobody reads it! For fragment perfection, one has to get up pretty early in the morning! FF is the place to dump all your random thought globules so as to keep them from coagulating and clogging your more productive brain activity. The big brain behind this whole thing is Mrs. 4444 over at Half Past Kissin’ Time, who keeps track of everyone’s randomness, so check her, and all the other FF-ers, out!

* I went down to the university yesterday to fill out some paperwork and get processed (wait, that sounds like I’m a salami) so that I can start work on Monday. I’m starting to believe it now, and I’m excited (and nervous) beyond words. The biggest issue continues to be my wardrobe, but I’m just going to have to make it work somehow. Maybe if I start wearing the same things twice in the same week, they’ll give me a clothing allowance.

* It’s funny that working actually COSTS money, and until I start actually getting paid, this is a bit of a dilemma. I need clothes and shoes, gas for the hour commute, money for a parking permit, and probably other things I haven’t even thought of yet. I did find out that I’ll get paid bi-weekly, which is not my favorite thing, but the benefits are very good. I’m just so grateful to have a job, I doubt I’ll be complaining about anything.

* I just read somewhere that it’s healthier to breathe through your nose. Evidently, a lot of people breathe through their mouths, which causes them to take shallow breaths. Shallow breaths signal the brain that you’re anxious, so it puts out stress hormones like cortisol and adrenaline. When you breathe through your nose, your stress levels measurably drop, and you get more oxygen in your blood, which gives you more energy and makes everything in your body work better. I’m going to work on this by trying to keep my mouth shut more. Anybody who knows me knows what a challenge this is going to be.

* I am being overrun by these things, which I call Chinese Lanterns, but I have no idea if that’s their actual name. They grow all up inside my rose bushes, and sometimes up the side of my house. I think they’re a weed, but one of my friends loves them, and is always wanting to dig them up and transplant them to her house. I have to admit that they’re colorful, and they do appear – appropriately – in the early fall. Still, I’d like them better if they were a little more well-mannered in where they choose to grow. Here’s a picture of them (try to imagine zillions of them, all tangled up in roses and such)

* My current card-making obsession:

This card has a cool removable bookmark in it, so you can keep the pretty part of the card instead of throwing it away. The bookmark has magnetic strips on it, so it grips either side of the page securely, and looks good at the same time. I mean, who can't use a nice bookmark? Here’s a blurry picture of the bookmark:

* I’m going to get a bunch of them done – in different designs – this weekend while I’m still inspired. Of course, that requires me to finish the 101 chores I’ve also got on my list. I guess I better get started. Have a great weekend, everybody!

Weave Me the Sunshine

2009-09-17T08:08:00.002-04:00

We've lost another talented performer. Mary Travers, of Peter, Paul and Mary passed away yesterday after a long battle with leukemia.

I don't often comment on the passing of well-known personalities, but this time it feels like a personal loss. I grew up on the music of Peter, Paul and Mary. Their songs are so entangled with my youth, it's almost like a soundtrack to my memories. We sang their songs around the campfire - Lemon Tree, 500 miles, If I Had a Hammer, Puff the Magic Dragon.

We often speculated on the true meaning of Puff - did it refer to marijuana smoke, perhaps? - but I was lucky enough to meet Noel "Paul" Stookey when I was in college, and got the chance to ask him. He said that it was simply a song about the bittersweet experience of growing up, and wondered why we all had become so cynical. We are proud to include Stookey as a Maine resident. He and his wife live in Blue Hill, Maine and operate a recording studio out of their converted chicken coop.

My favorite Peter, Paul and Mary song is one of my go-to songs when I need a mood adjustment: Weave Me the Sunshine. It is on my Ipod, and my kids and I sing along with great abandon whenever we hear it.

Weave, weave, weave me the sunshine out of the fallin' rain!

Weave me the hope of a new tomorrow and fill my cup again!

I loved Peter, Paul and Mary for their thoughtful lyrics and expressed convictions, which they performed with such beautiful harmony. Stookey told me that the most important ingredient in their success was their deep love and respect for each other. It showed.

Rest in peace, Mary. And thank you.

Worst Blogger Ever

2009-09-15T08:15:00.003-04:00

I can't seem to get my act together. I've been trying to get a job for so long, I almost don't quite know what to do.

Looking for a job in this day and age has meant being on the computer for hours every day, researching, scouring websites, revamping resumes and writing carefully-worded cover letters. I've been doing that for about a year now, and I'd gotten into a routine: Get up, make coffee (decaf, of course), check email, check the job-search sites, read some blogs, write a blog, do some more job searching, check a few more blogs. I'd basically repeat this pattern all day, with breaks for household chores or errands or my daily walk.

I was in the rhythm of it. It worked for me - all except the not having enough money to pay my bills. That part sucked.

Anyway, now that I know I'm starting work next Monday, I'm all of sudden in panic mode. Here's what it sounds like in my head:

What am I going to wear? Do I have 5 suitable outfits to get me through the first week? What about shoes? Should I clean out and wash my car? What if the president of the university parks next to me? The inside of my car looks like a giant purse. Speaking of purses, what purse should I carry? I have only one nice purse, but it's getting old. Maybe I should clean it with that leather stuff. Where is that leather stuff, anyway?

I need to clean the house. Why the heck didn't I get more stuff done while I've been unemployed? I was going to rip up this miserable carpet, and repair the screens and paint the kitchen. I should make some extra meals and get them into the freezer so it won't be too hard to get dinner on at a decent hour. I wonder what time I'll get home every day?

I should get a lot of walking in this week before I can't do it anymore. I'm going to miss being able to be outside as much as I have been. The weather has finally been beautiful for the last few weeks, and I'm going to be inside a building all day. I wonder if I'll feel like walking after work? Maybe I can walk at lunch time. I wonder what time I'll get lunch? Oh, geez, I'll have to pack a lunch. What do we have that I will be able to pack a lunch with? I wonder if there's a refrigerator. What about water? I can't stand drinking city water. I wonder if they have a bubbler or if they drink tap water? Will it seem weird if I carry my own drinking water? Oh, and what about coffee? I can't drink regular coffee. I hope it's not a coffee machine. I hate coffee machine coffee.

Anyway, you get the idea. I'm feeling completely scattered and nervous and excited, and I can't seem to sit down at the computer for more than a couple of minutes at a time. I'm going to try to get around to visit everyone this week - I want to know how you are all doing and what's up in your lives. And I'm sure you're dying to hear what I have to say about whatever you've said. Right?

I GOT IT

2009-09-09T15:14:00.004-04:00

Only time for a quick post - but it's good news. Possibly the best news I've gotten in a long, long time: I got the job. I just got the call about 15 minutes ago, and I still can't quite believe it.

I will be among the employed again, and not a moment too soon, let me tell you. My sanity was quite literally on the line.

I have about a week and a half to get my life (and my wardrobe) in order, so bear with me as I rush around. And don't even bother to ask why I haven't gotten everything in order over the last year of unemployment, because I have no idea.

Thank you all for the prayers, good wishes and positive thoughts you sent my way. I know having so many wonderful people on my side is what put me over the top. You're the best.

It's Friday Fragments Time

2009-09-04T07:38:00.004-04:00

It's Friday already and time for Friday Fragments, which is where I get rid of all those random thoughts that are tickling the inside of my head. Anybody can fragment, thanks to our lovely and talented hostess, Mrs. 4444 from Half Past Kissin' Time. She keeps track of all the FF-ers over at her site, and you should stop by and check it out. Actually, if you're not reading her regularly, why aren't you? She's funny AND nice - a perfect combo!

* Thanks for all the positive energy around my second interview on Wednesday. I think it went well, and I did find out that they called my references yesterday, which I hope is a good sign. I very much liked everything about this place, especially the people, and hope to have some really good news to share with you soon. I’m trying not to get too excited. I’m afraid if I don’t get it, I’ll be incredibly disappointed. Oh well, nothing to do but wait.

* Did you ever lose something that it is impossible to lose? Like something that it so big that it couldn’t be hiding anywhere? Or something you use every day, that only ever gets put in the same place, and has never left the bathroom? Doesn’t that drive you crazy? I was walking across the living room floor, holding an empty bowl and two chopsticks in one hand, when I stopped to pick something up off the floor. When I straightened up, I had only one chopstick. Could I find the other one? Nope. I looked everywhere, on my hands and knees, for half an hour. It literally couldn’t be anyplace else, and I still can’t find it. The biggest bummer is that it was one of the cool, shiny bamboo chopsticks, of which I only have four. I mean, three. I think my mother was wrong. Things really do sprout legs and walk away. If you ever see a shiny bamboo chopstick with legs, it’s mine.

* Having Alex back in the household is wonderful, but it sure has required me to adjust my grocery list. He is a snacker. We all snack, of course, but Alex has raised the idea to an art form. He would rather graze all day on snacks, and never have to sit down for an actual meal. Unlike Brandon, who loves to create elaborate meals using every single pot and pan that I own, Alex has no patience for food prep. He wants to grab and go. That box of granola bars that was lasting a week this summer is now empty in two days. The omelet breakfast does not work for Alex – cross off eggs and jot down bagels. Get more snack-size baggies (he’ll eat healthy food if it is in grab-able bags!) and serving-size pudding and yogurt. I’d love to hear your favorite grab-and-go snacks – what can you recommend?

* I think that if you drink decaffeinated coffee, it’s really important to get the good stuff. In my opinion, good decaf – which means spending more than $5 - for the 13 ounce bag that used to be a pound of coffee, but don’t get me started on shrinking packages and rising prices – is almost as good as real coffee. This week I’ve been drinking some store-brand swill that I bought in a moment of stupidity (or poverty). I can’t afford to throw it out, so I’m drinking it, but I’m pissed off about it. Ironically, because it sucks, it’s lasting longer than my usual brand.

* Do you know what high school kids can wear for gym class up here? ANYTHING THEY WANT. Yup. They can wear anything they want, as long as it is not the clothes they came to school in. They are required to change, but it doesn’t matter into what. You can wear jeans and a t-shirt to school, and change into another pair of jeans and a different t-shirt, and it’s totally allowed. Alex usually brings long basketball shorts and a t-shirt. Boy, things have changed since I was in high school. We used to have to wear these horrible stretch knit shorts and a horizontally striped, polyester polo shirt. Life is so unfair. Maybe this is one of the reasons I hated gym class, and only took the minimum amount I needed to graduate, and Alex signs up for it as an elective every year.

* When I was housesitting recently, I noticed that they had an air freshener in their bathroom that was called Moroccan Bazaar. I think Febreeze makes it - very elegant packaging, too. When I was growing up, we had two choices for freshening the air: Lysol and FLORAL. And neither of them was refreshing. Lysol makes me gag to this very day, and we all know what those bathroom smells are like when you add floral scent. Hallie, I know you have smell issues at work. Maybe you should try spritzing a little Moroccan Bazaar and humming “As Time Goes By” from Casablanca. Let me know how it works out.

I hope you all have a wonderful long weekend (if you’re in another country that doesn’t have Labor Day, I hope you have a wonderful regular weekend!) and I’ll be by to visit your blogs!

Hurry Up

2009-09-02T09:59:00.003-04:00

Hey - I am here! I want to thank you all for the wonderfully kind words and all the thoughts and prayers sent my way last Friday. I had a good interview - which is to say, I really liked them and I hope they liked me. I think it is exactly the kind of job I've been looking for, working for some great people in a nearly ideal setting. I did get a call back for a second interview (this afternoon, in fact) so feel free to keep those positive thoughts coming!

I've been experiencing a bout of extreme energy, and it seems to be causing an unnerving amount of activity on my part. I've been tackling long-overdue projects at an alarming rate and I can't seem to sit still for more than a couple of minutes at a time, even at the computer. I may not know much, but one thing I've figured out is that it is useless to fight these odd moods. It's better to just go with it and see what happens. I'm sure it will pass in a day or two. In the meantime, if you stop by, be sure and ask to see my junk drawer. You'll be amazed.

I'll be back tomorrow with an update, and on Friday - because what would Friday be without Fragments?? Hope you're all well and happy.

Friday Fragments - Electric Avenue

2009-08-28T08:41:00.003-04:00

Time for Friday Fragments again – the brilliant idea of Mrs. 4444 over at Half Past Kissin’ Time, who organizes this revelry every week (in fact, she’s the HEAD reveler, which I think makes her in charge of beverages AND entertainment). Go check out who else is feeling random; you’ll be glad you did.

* In this very rural part of Maine that I live in, the addresses used to be things like RR 1, Box 280 or whatever. A number of years ago Maine decided to get on board with 911 systems, and everybody was assigned a number and street. A lot of streets were previously unnamed. Since many of the streets only have one or two houses on them, the towns allowed those people to choose the name of their street. This led to streets named after the folks who lived there (Simoneau Rd., Greta Ave., Record St.) or the landscape (Shady Lane, Pine Tops Blvd., Pleasant View). Sometimes they get creative (Hardscrabble Rd., Catmousam Rd., Nonesuch Place) or just plain weird (Seboomook Dam Rd., Umbazookas Ln.). Unfortunately for me, I live on Main Street, and thus did not get the opportunity to name my address. Too bad, because if I did, I would have snatched up Abbey Road before the people down the street got it. I always wonder if they’re big Beatles fans or if they have a child named Abbey. Maybe I’ll stop in someday and ask.

* I dropped Alex off at the high school yesterday, and was amazed anew at the outfits the girls were wearing. I’m lucky, I guess, because my boys were pretty easy to deal with on the clothing front: T-shirts and jeans, pretty much every day of their lives. They tend toward black t-shirts, but never got into goth or that odd too-big pants phase, with jeans hanging off their butts and their boxers showing. Some of the girls at the high school, however, seem to get most of their clothing from the Rural Hookers of Maine store. My mother would NEVER have let me out of the house in ultra-short skirts or shorts and low-cut tops. I wonder when it became popular to look like a prostitute? Even if I like the look, I think it becomes a sanitation issue – if they’re wearing thongs under there, when they sit down, what exactly is between them and the chair that 25 other people sat in today? Just wondering.

* I’ll be glad when the freshman parents get the clue about how to drive through the parking lot at school. It’s scary enough dodging the kids who just got their license and clearly do not know how to drive, let alone park, without dealing with parents who can’t comprehend one-lane roads or basic drop-off procedure. Rule number one: do not stop in the drop-off lane and proceed to have a 10 minute conversation with your child about what time you’re going to pick them up, what they had for breakfast, or why you don’t like rap music. Drop off your kid and keep moving; we have stuff to do.

* Within 6 miles of my house there are 4 Dunkin Donuts (for you city folks, this might not be a big deal, but in my rural area, it’s a lot). There is also one Tim Horton’s. Mr. Horton was a fairly recent addition to the landscape, and I welcomed him with open arms. His pastries look amazing, and there are a lot more lunch choices there. However, I don’t visit him any more, and I’ll tell you why: They don’t make decaf coffee after noon. I drink decaf only, and I’ve been this way for about 10 years. I used to have a big problem with migraines, and getting off caffeine was a big part of the mostly-successful solution. I like to swing through the drive-thru and pick up a decaf to help sustain me through Lacrosse games or track meets, because it gets cold on those bleachers. If you go through TH at 4:30 or 7:00 PM and order decaf, they say “We don’t make decaf at this time of day; you’ll have to wait while we brew some.” It takes 4 minutes to brew decaf, plus the time it takes them to prepare your coffee (and probably bitch to each other about how irritated they are that somebody asked for decaf). FOUR MINUTES is a long time in the drive-thru with some moron in a Volvo behind you, drumming on the steering wheel and staring daggers at you. Isn’t evening the time people SHOULD be drinking decaf? Tim Horton, you disappoint me.

* I'm off to prepare for my job interview. I can't tell you how much all the good wishes mean to me. I'm nervous, but it's a hopeful kind of nervous. I feel like I'm as prepared as I can be, and I got a pretty good night's sleep last night, so my mind is as sharp as it gets. I've practiced my interview questions and my confident, charming smile. I've done everything I can do. Feel free to send a little prayer or positive thought my way at 1:00 Maine time. I appreciate your support more than you know.

Missing You

2009-08-26T16:36:00.004-04:00

No time for a real post, but I wanted to say hello. Hopefully somebody noticed I haven't been around much the last several days (I have this recurring fear that I'll be kidnapped or something and nobody will notice until there aren't any clean dishes or clothes.) I am dealing with a bit of family drama, the return to my household of my youngest son (hurray!) and the start of school tomorrow. I am again woefully behind in blog-reading, and I'm missing my online friends. Tomorrow, after everybody leaves, I'm going to sit down with a cup of coffee and catch up with you all.

Have you ever noticed that, often, the person who suffers most from family drama is NOT the person who caused it? More evidence that life is not fair, I guess (as if we needed any!) but this, too shall pass.

I got a call for a job interview on Friday. It's a job I think I would really like, so I'm wavering between panic and excitement. I took a drive down to the building where the interview will be, so I will know where I'm going on Friday. Then I came home and tried on every single piece of clothing that I own. Then I balanced my checkbook to see if I could possibly afford to buy something new to wear. Then I tried on every piece of clothing I own again. Then I checked my roots to make sure the gray isn't showing, because who wants to hire an old hag? Then I went to Wal-Mart and picked up some hair color. Then I printed out my list of possible interview questions and answered them - out loud - to myself. Then I made a list of all the things I have to do, in order, before the interview (hair, nails, exfoliate, clean jewelry, lint removal - my clothes, not my belly button, in case you're wondering, although I may do both.)

Obsessive? I prefer to think of it as prepared - you know, like a Boy Scout.

This just gets stranger every week - Friday Fragments

2009-08-21T08:47:00.005-04:00

Welcome to Friday Fragments, the place to say all those things you’ve been thinking all week. Mrs. 4444 from Half Past Kissin' Time is the Big Thinker who hosts this party, and her thoughts are some of the best around. She has links to all the FF posters – go check them out and I promise you won’t be disappointed.

* I have company staying at my house this week, and it’s not the casual kind of company that hangs around your house, reading and such. It’s the kind of company that requires MY company every single minute. Talk about finding it difficult to blog – it’s more like finding it difficult to complete a thought. I have to sneak off with my laptop to steal even a few minutes to read a blog or two! This may just be the shortest Friday Fragments in history.

* Mrs. 4444 awarded me the Favorite Fragmenter prize from last week, which is funny because last week, her FF post had me laughing for days. She linked this video, called Stuck in the Middle With You, which got me thinking about the subject of things that, well, get stuck inside people. Many years ago, I attended a conference with a woman from another non-profit agency whose agency provided family planning and women’s health care. She once told me (after several margaritas) that she had removed an amazing array of objects from women’s bodies. Objects that were not the normal things one might find in there. Objects that they would have obviously attempted to remove themselves first, before suffering the embarrassment of asking for help. The list amazed, impressed and disgusted me, all at once.

* She also told me that the most interesting and unique items, once retrieved, were placed in their ‘hall of fame’ (which was a shelf in their back room) for them to enjoy for years to come. Of course, I had to stop by her agency a couple of months later for a meeting, so I asked to see it. Let me tell you, it was EVERY BIT AS IMPRESSIVE AS SHE HAD DESCRIBED. The most interesting item was a plastic gargoyle, which she described as a “neon green, hard plastic, angry-looking gargoyle” and, in my opinion, was WAY too big to be even considered for insertion. You gotta wonder how bored a person has to be…I mean, how does that even begin? “Gee, honey, I’m feeling a little adventurous tonight. What say we take that green plastic gargoyle that your sister gave the kids, and see if it fits in your…”

* Earlier in the week, I did a good deed at Wal-Mart. I’m not going to tell you all about it, because the specifics don’t really matter. What I will do, though, is encourage everyone to be friendly, and patient, with elderly people when you encounter them at stores or restaurants. It will make your day – and theirs, too – and you might just make a terrific new friend. I think it is absolutely criminal how some people treat others, just because they’re slowing down a bit as they get older. God willing, we’re all going to get there sooner or later - let’s show a little love and compassion, shall we?

* That’s all I got today. I will try to keep better track of my random thoughts next week. Have a terrific weekend, everybody!

My Secret Hideaway

2009-08-18T09:38:00.004-04:00

I sometimes dream of a getaway - the chance to get away from my problems, from bills and job-hunting, from the stresses of everyday life. My ideal getaway location? Someplace hot, with swimming and my choice of adult beverages. Someplace nobody would bother me, where I can choose to do whatever I want, whenever I want. Someplace where I only need a bathing suit, a sarong, a hair clip and my sunglasses. Paradise.

Of course, because of my current situation, I couldn't possibly manage a trip to Paradise. However, I did just manage a couple of days at a spot just north of there. You may have read that I was house-and-dog sitting for friends of mine for the weekend. They have a really nice pool, and in exchange for 45 minutes of dog care twice a day (plus a couple of minutes of egg-collecting - who knew that I was scared of chickens?) I got to hang out poolside for the whole weekend. AND miracles of miracles - the weather cooperated. Yup. Here in Maine, we're having a heat wave (sing with me "a tropical heat wave...") and it's been 90 degrees and sunny every day for almost a week now!

Anyway, I had a great time, and took some pictures of my gorgeous locale.

This is the view from the upper deck. I took this picture around 9 in the morning, and that thermometer on the side of the tiki bar reads 80! And all this time I thought Mother Nature hated me.

A view of the tiki bar. This is where I ate breakfast and lunch and changed stations on the radio as my mood changed from classic rock (morning) to country (afternoon) to jazz (evening).

Here's a better view of the bar - home to many fabulous concoctions. I stayed mostly with Mike's Hard Lemonade, but I know the blender could have told stories of margaritas past.

In addition to their sled dogs, my friends had these adorable poodle puppies. They had six, but three of them have been sold so far. They're ten weeks old and apricot colored- aren't they cute?

One of them was forever jumping straight up in the air. I think they should call him Pogo. I had to take all the photos from outside their enclosure because when I was in there, they were all over me. Their fur is so incredibly soft, and I love how they don't have the long skinny noses yet.

Don't you just want to scoop this baby up and cuddle her??

Anyway, here I am, back to reality. Everything here is exactly the same - same miserable problems that were here before I left - but I feel a little bit refreshed. Sunburnt, and with some sore muscles (I guess I don't use my swimming muscles enough) but refreshed nonetheless. Now if only I could get them to go away for a whole week...

Friday Fragments - The Mojito Edition

2009-08-14T08:37:00.005-04:00

Time for Friday Fragments, the place to share all those odd thoughts - you know the ones - that are just too random to be a post of their own. Summer is the perfect time to be random, so if you'd like to learn from the master, check out Mrs. 4444 over at Half Past Kissin' Time. She is the one who started this fiesta, and she's still hosting us fragmenters every week. She picked my friend Andrew from A Long Patience as Favorite Fragmenter this week - yeah! And then she picked my friend Hallie from Wonderful World of Wieners for honorable mention. I'm so happy, I hardly noticed that she didn't pick me for anything... Oh well, go check them all out. Very funny stuff.

* This past week or two has been bad for cell phones in our neighborhood. First, I dropped my cell phone into a steaming hot, very full cup of coffee. Decaf. With cream, no sugar. I grabbed it out, but coffee had permeated every orifice. I took it apart, cleaned it, and air-dried it. And waited. After 24 hours, I put it back together, charged it, crossed my fingers and called someone. The good news? I could hear people fine. The bad news? They couldn’t hear me at all. I repeated the cleaning/drying process, and to my delight, it’s working fine now. There’s a bit of a murkiness around one edge of the screen (the cream, I’m guessing) but I can live with that. The day after I got mine fixed, the meter reader for the power company ran over his cell phone in my driveway. Ooops. And then, a couple of days after that, a friend of mine who was visiting dropped her cell in the lake. I think it’s Mother Nature telling us to drop the technology and enjoy what little summer we get.

* I must be getting old. For a bunch of reasons, and not just because I’m beginning the transition from tampons to bladder-control pads, either. When I was at the movies, watching the Ugly Truth and thinking murderous thoughts about the teenagers and their mid-movie texting, I kept wondering if some of them were old enough to be hearing some of the R-rated dialogue. Which is ridiculous, since I know my kids learned more on the bus in third grade than I knew when I graduated from high school. (“Mommy, what kind of a job is a blowjob?”)

* I am sick to death of not having a working oven in this house. I don’t bake a lot in the summer, but it’s nice to have the option. I have to bring all the snacks to my stamping club meeting tonight, and trying to come up with something good that doesn’t require baking is not that easy. Especially since the other women keep trying to outdo each other in fancy-ness. I can’t just show up with chips, dip and a bag of cookies from the store. Any ideas? Quick, because I have to be there at 6:30.

* Am I the only one who thinks the television talks to me directly? I swear, since I became really, really panicked about not having enough money to pay essential bills, and since I started thinking I might not ever have a job, I think all the tv shows are talking to me. “If you lose your job, we’ll make your payments. Too bad you weren’t smart enough to buy one of our cars before you got laid off.” “A recent study shows that people who are still unemployed after one year have the same chance of finding a job as getting hit by lightning. In a related story, large numbers of unemployed people are reportedly standing out during a lightning storm holding a nine iron.”

* Starting this afternoon, and until Sunday afternoon, I am housesitting/dogsitting for a friend of mine. They have sled dogs, like us, but only 10 or 12, plus a couple of house dogs, so it should be pretty easy. Food and water a couple of times a day, and let the house dogs out to potty every so often. Other than that, I think I’m free to sit by (or in) their gorgeous inground pool with the Tiki bar, outdoor fireplace and cool torch lighting. The weather is supposed to be hot and FABULOUS the whole time. I wish you could all come, too. I’d make you a kick-ass mojito.

Wouldn't It Be Nice

2009-08-12T09:47:00.001-04:00

Time for another edition of STUFF THAT BUGS THE CRAP OUT OF ME. I know I’m going to sound cranky, but I don’t care. Things are not going well, and I think a little ranting will make me feel better. I need to complain a bit, and this is where I’m choosing to do it. Maybe tomorrow I’ll put up a list of things that make me smile. Or not. Either way, here are some things that are currently bugging the crap out of me.

Scary commercials. I don’t go to see scary movies. I don’t like them. My life is scary enough without monsters and demons and crazed chainsaw murderers. I don’t mind hearing about scary stuff, I just don’t want to FEEL it, with the scary music and the graphic violence and everything. WHY, then, must there be a commercial for a terrifying horror movie on TV every 5 minutes? If I was watching a scary TV movie, I might expect a scary commercial or two, but when I’m watching Burn Notice? I even saw ads for Drag Me To Hell during a Lifetime movie. Really, marketing people? Your research really shows that people who watch Love’s Enduring Whatever also enjoy a terrifyingly bloody horror movie? Who knew? I guess I’ve outgrown my demographic.

People using cell phones during a movie. I went to a movie recently, and I was really looking forward to it. Since I’m pinching pennies, I don’t go to the movies much and I was planning to have a fabulous time. I arrived just as the lights went down, and for a moment I couldn’t see where I was walking. I needn’t have worried, however, since 75% of the teenagers in the room were texting, and the combined light from their cell phones lit up the room plenty. Once the movie started, I expected it to stop, but it never really did. And every single time, my eye was drawn to the sudden bright light. SO annoying. Who are they texting? Each other? I wanted to shriek at them that I managed to get all the way through my teens and half my adulthood without a cell phone - maybe they could take a break for an hour and a half.

Online applications that take hours. A lot of jobs require online applications these days. Sometimes they’re pretty basic: name, address, phone, attach your resume and cover letter. Sometimes they require you to fill out an online resume form, in which you have to basically retype everything, including job history, which is a pain, but whatever. SOME of them, however, want to ask you questions. LOTS and LOTS of questions. I actually had one that required 150 questions. I’m not kidding, either. The first 60 of them were variations on the ‘how much do you agree/disagree with this statement’ thing, with statements like ‘I often struggle with my work’ or ‘I like to be in constant contact with my supervisor.’ Then there was a long section with word problems: “What is the next number in this sequence: 100, 52, 28, 16, 10” or “Bob, Carol, Ted and Alice went to dinner with Dopey, Grumpy, Sleepy and Doc; the women can’t sit next to each other; Doc sits by Bob, Sleepy sits on a corner next to Carol, and Ted and Dopey sit across from each other. Which chair does Alice have?” Then they finished up with a personality test where I had to rate myself on levels of energy, honesty, intelligence and general going-postal-ness. TWO and a HALF HOURS. Really? REALLY? To work at your lousy chain store? I don’t care if I was applying for a management job. This should NOT be the initial screening tool.

Inconsiderate people everywhere. People who don’t care about anyone other than themselves. Who randomly stand in your way at grocery stores without checking to see if they’re blocking someone, Who pull out in front of you in traffic and then go super slowly. Who drop things and leave them there. Who make comments like, ‘you must not be trying that hard’ when you tell them you’re still unemployed. Or they say ‘are you still harping on that?’ when they hear that you are continuing to hope to hear from your birth mother. Please, God, however depressed or cranky I get, never let me become one of those people. Please make sure I always care about the other people on this planet, whether I know them or not. And, God, while you’re at it? Please keep me from running them over in my car, even when they bug the crap out of me.

Fragments - It's all I got

2009-08-07T07:57:00.003-04:00

Time for Friday Fragments - the place to release all your pent-up thoughts, no matter how silly - or crazy - and set them free out into the blogosphere. Our resident Princess of Liberated Thoughts is Mrs. 4444 over at Half Past Kissin' Time. She keeps track of all of us random types, so go visit her and see what tidbits of brilliance you're missing.

* For the first time ever (at least since I started this blog) I went an entire week without blogging. Not only did I not blog, I did not READ any blogs. I went cold turkey on the whole blog thing. It was weird. I kept wondering how this person or that person was...how they were dealing with a certain challenge they're facing, how they were enjoying their vacation, their staycation, their break from kids. I realize how much I like my blog friends, and how much I miss them when I don't 'see' them.

* I didn't blog (or read blogs) for a couple of reasons. I started to think that I needed to spend even more time looking for a job. I already was spending 4-6 hours a day looking for job openings - on the internet, in newspapers, in employment periodicals, etc., but I'm not having much luck, as you all know. I decided that I needed to put all my effort into it, without distractions. So I did just that. I looked everywhere possible on the internet. I brainstormed a list of all the large companies within 50 miles of my house and checked their websites. I signed up with every possible employment agency, temp agency and recruiter that would talk to me. I visited the Career Center. I developed 5 new versions of my resume after two different experts advised me to 'dumb-down' my resume so that people would interview me. (Evidently my skills and experience might be working against me. Ha! Who knew? I thought it was just my age!) I read everything I could find on: resume writing, finding openings, better cover letters, how to walk the fine line between following up and harrassing potential employers. I even drove around the industrial park and wrote down the names of all the businesses. One week later? I'm still unemployed, but boy, could I give a seminar on how to go job hunting.

* The other reason I haven't blogged is that I don't want this to become a "poor-me, I'm still unemployed'' blog. Who wants to read that? I certainly don't. And I don't want to write that, either. Damn it, I WILL find something something to say that - if not interesting or funny - is at least not DEPRESSING AS HELL. Unfortunately, that was my reality this week, so I chose not to blog. Hopefully next week will be a better one.

* I have added a new thing to my list of THINGS I REALLY APPRECIATE. The new addition is: public restrooms that incorporate a long, winding hallway entrance, thus eliminating the need for me to touch a door handle that most certainly has more germs on it than the decomposing trash barges of New Jersey. If you add in good lighting, door latches that work, seats that aren't peed on, and sinks that work? I'm in heaven. I've become such a simple person, really. It doesn't take much to please me.

* I've been dog-sitting a bit lately. If only I could make a career out of it! I've made friends with several really sweet dogs, but I never think to bring my camera with me to their houses. This time, it was a one year old Golden Retriever (Ralphie) that was visiting me for a couple of days so I had my camera handy. We played a lot outside - he loves to play keep-away with a ball - but he was bored by my computer-job-hunting-frenzy. This is what he was doing while I was surfing:

Sometimes he switched couches:

* I was treated to another surprise, last-minute, 20-hour visit from Alex (and his girlfriend Tiana). Three weeks from now, he'll be back home - for the school year, anyway - and I can't wait. I've really missed him this summer. Here's a picture of the happy couple. Oh, to be 16 again!

* I've missed all my blog friends, and I want to say thank you for all the encouragement and advice you've offered. I can't wait to read about all you've been up to since last Friday. It will probably take a while, especially since the weather is supposed to be gorgeous for the next couple of days, but I'll get caught up with everyone. I hope you all have a glorious weekend.

Slip-Sliding Away - Friday Fragments & Freewrite

2009-07-31T08:30:00.004-04:00

Gosh, we're back to Friday Fragments again. I guess I need to be posting a little more often - if this keeps up, my whole blog will be fragments. Oh, well, it's summer. People are random in the summer, right? Anyway, this is the place for all those thoughts that run through your head when you're sitting at traffic lights or trying to sleep. It was the brainchild of the effervescent Mrs. 4444 over at Half Past Kissin' Time. Go visit her, and see who else is fragmenting this week.

I'm also joining Friday Freewrite, which is hosted by Sara over at Ordinary and Awesome, just because I can do it all with this one post, and it makes Fridays twice the fun!

* I'm having a hard time finding funny, or even non-miserable things to blog about. I found out that I didn't get TWO jobs (that I had high hopes for) this week. Add that to some other personal issues and you might end up with a recipe for depression. My current coping strategy is to try not to dwell on it and keep myself busy. I'll let you know how it works out. I did read about an excellent strategy that Yaya has found helpful, and, frankly, I think she's on to something.

* Under the heading 'Things That Irritate Me' you can add "finishing a puzzle only to find you're missing a piece." I've been working on a puzzle - a really hard puzzle - for a long time. It was part of a series called Buried Blueprints which I love. The puzzles are very unique and no longer in print, but I've been able to get most of them on Ebay in the last several years. My friend Jocelyn came over and helped me work on this one, which was called An Egyptian Chronicle, and we had a great time chatting while we puzzled. Anyway, we found out one piece was missing. Arghhh. I have to say, this is the first time I've gotten burned on a puzzle from Ebay, and I've been buying used puzzles there for years. The biggest problem now is that I can't re-sell it. Does anybody want a puzzle that's missing one of its thousand pieces? I'd be glad to send it!

Here it is. Isn't it cool? Can you spot the missing piece?

* I was lucky enough to have Girls Night Out last night, and it couldn't have been more needed. My two girlfriends from college are the best. They are smart, funny, beautiful and supportive. And, as we were noticing last night, we never run out of stuff to talk about. EVER. We're making some tentative plans to take a trip together next year, and I sure hope we can pull it off - although I'm not sure the world is ready for the three of us, unleashed, as it were. Broadway, here we come!

* I've been stress-knitting again. Socks, mostly. If you're on my Christmas list, you're probably getting socks for Christmas. Sorry if I spoiled the surprise. Here's one pair in progress:

* My stove is beeping. Well, the timer is beeping. All the time. It's not the same beep as when the timer goes off. It's much, much quieter - if you have the TV or radio on, you don't really notice it. But I can hear it. Mocking me. I have no idea how to make it stop. I keep setting the real timer to its maximum time, because when the real timer is on, the other beeping stops. Of course, this means that every 1 hour 59 minutes I have to go turn off the real, loud, beeping timer. It's not a perfect system.

* This week's theme at camp is Mystery. All the counselors are dressing up as either famous detectives or characters from Clue. Brandon and Sandy went as Colonel Mustard and Mrs. White (the maid). And yes, I was up making an apron and a maid's cap at midnight last night. I'll be rewarded in the next life, right? Here's what they looked like:

I hope you all have a wonderful weekend!

Hard to Believe

2009-07-30T08:22:00.003-04:00

Proof that sled dogs and cats CAN get along: Bliss (semi-retired sled dog and part time couch potato) and Ursa Major (rescued feral cat who has really taken to the good life.)

Update

2009-07-28T09:06:00.002-04:00

I didn't get the job. I just got the call. The company filled the position without even interviewing me and ignoring the recommendation of the employment agency. The woman at the employment agency sounded upset and told me that they hired someone 'outside the process' which I guess means directly, and not through the agency.

I'm so frustrated. Every recruiter that I have interviewed with seems to love me, but getting to the next step has been difficult. I'm beginning to wonder if it's my age. I found out that one job that I missed out on a few months ago was because they wanted someone young. All my years of experience seem to be working against me - either because the company wants to 'mold someone' the way they want, or because they think they can pay them less. Little do they know that I'm willing to work for a lot less than I'm worth at this point.

So, back to the drawing board. I have several other irons in the fire, but this was one I was very hopeful about. Time to develop some new leads. I knew I should have made friends with rich people who own businesses when I was young and cute.

Drift Away - Friday Fragments

2009-07-24T07:41:00.003-04:00

We’re back to a rainy weather pattern (gulp) and also back to Friday Fragments, the time and place to unload weird, funny or random thoughts that are occupying cranium space that you could be using to store better stuff. The originator of this fun-fest is Mrs. 4444 over at Half Past Kissin’ Time, who always has some crazy tidbits to say. You can also check out the winner of her Favorite Fragmenter Award.

* Thank you for all the wonderfully positive thoughts and prayers for my job interview. I interviewed with an employment agency, and it went really well. They said they were going to recommend me to the client, so the next step will be an interview with the company itself. I’m cautiously optimistic, I guess, but mostly I just try not to think about it. I also have another interview this afternoon, so at least it’s progress!

* I’ve been wondering about how the blog clock works, and I’m hoping somebody will clue me in. My blog posts never show the correct time, and the comments are all off, too. What is the time based on – the commenter’s time zone? the blog owner’s time zone? Blogger International’s time zone? Inquiring minds want to know. And don't get me started about scheduled post nightmares.

* My car is finally legal – I have a valid inspection sticker, so hopefully I’ve seen the last of the nice local police officer. And to those of you who suggested that he might be letting me off with a warning because he ‘liked’ me – I want you to know that he’s more likely feeling pity than attraction. He’s more Doogie Howser, P.D. – and he probably wouldn’t even get that reference. Those of you too young to get it, go ahead and google Doogie. I’m sure Wikipedia knows all about him.

* I didn’t end up dogsitting for my friend with the puppies – her event got cancelled at the last minute – so I don’t have cute pictures for you. I may get over there this weekend, so I’ll try to remember my camera so I can snap some shots of the fuzzy babies.

* On my way to pick Alex up yesterday, I noticed that as I drove toward the Canadian border, the percentage of people who have a disconnected plow in their front yard went up exponentially. I think at one point it was better than 75%. One guy had spray painted LET IT SNOW on the front of it. Clever idea, but he should have spaced it out better, because the letters got smaller and smaller as he ran out of room, and it detracted from his message.

* Alex’s girlfriend caught a ride with us to her cousin’s for a couple of days, and it was nice to see her. She and her mother live ‘off the grid’ in a town called “The Forks” – I know, weird, right? They have solar power and a generator, but no regular electricity, although they do have a regular telephone, and wifi. Ahh, the wilderness.

* I passed a sign that read “Dan & Scott’s Funeral and Cremation” – am I the only one that finds that funny? Honestly, doesn’t that sound like the guys that always threw the keg parties back in college? “Hey, let’s head over to Dan & Scott’s – they always have those big red plastic cups…” I’m not sure I could trust them to care for my loved ones’ final remains. Or, at least I couldn’t trust myself not to giggle the whole time. Hey, don't judge me. I'm under a lot of stress.

* Oh, and one last thing. Whichever spam agent has decided to repeatedly bombard me with emails that begin “Are you troubled by incontinence?” I want to ask them, didn’t your mother teach you any manners? I am NOT troubled by incontinence (except for the occasional sneezing/coughing/laughing incident), but if I was, don’t you think it would be a little impolite to keep bringing it up? Geez.

Alive

2009-07-21T15:29:00.004-04:00

Yes, I'm alive (but thanks for asking!). I'm just wicked busy (wicked, for those of you not from Maine, means VERY) and haven't had time to blog.

I've been running around trying to get stuff fixed on my car so that it will pass inspection. Mostly because the nice police officer who has stopped me three times to tell me that my inspection sticker expired in April is getting a teensy bit cranky. I think he was cranky because the last time he stopped me near a swamp and as he approached my car he was attacked by swarms of mosquitoes. This last time he mentioned that he had better not see me again - which I thought was kinda mean, considering we had become such good friends and all.

AND, in other news, after months and months and months of no luck on the job seeking front, I have two interviews this week. Anybody who wants to pray or meditate or send positive ions into the atmosphere around 2 pm tomorrow (Wednesday) or 1 pm on Friday, feel free! One of them requires me to run around and create a new portfolio of my work, which is a giant pain in the butt. The other one required a detailed online application that I swear to you took 3 and a half hours to complete. Still, if it results in a job, it will be a good thing, so I'm trying not to whine.

I'm driving to the middle of nowhere to visit Alex on Thursday, so I'll be away from the computer quite a bit this week. Hopefully I'll be able to catch up with everybody in the early mornings - but don't blame me if my comments are a little odd. Sometimes my brain doesn't engage until around 9:00 AM.

Thank God It's Friday (Fragments)

2009-07-17T03:00:00.001-04:00

Time for Friday Fragments again. This is the place where I can spill all the weird and random things that occur to me while I'm stirring the spaghetti sauce or waxing my legs. FF were invented by a really sweet and funny lady, Mrs. 4444 over at Half Past Kissin' Time. Go check her out and see who else is playing with us this week.

* I read somewhere that the brain of a woman eating chocolate looks exactly like the brain of a woman during sex. That makes total sense to me. In particular, I find Ghirardelli dark chocolate mint squares very, um, satisfying.

* In the town that I live in there is a speedway, about 2.5 miles from my house, where races are held several nights a week during the warmer months – stock cars, modified, trucks, you name it. One weekend in July there’s a huge race – the Oxford Plains 250 – that is very popular. About 10 days beforehand, campers start arriving in town and begin parking on any patch of ground within a mile of the speedway, including the fields on both sides and the edges of the parking lot. There are literally hundreds of them, and they’re everywhere. It’s like a little community (we call it Trailer Village) and the beer is a-flowin’. There’s no actual campground facilities, but the speedway opens their bathroom facilities to the folks. I have no idea what they do about showers (and I don’t want to know.) The traffic in town gets crazy and the police force of our little town has to work triple overtime. It’s happening this weekend, and I’m going to take a drive or a walk through and get some pictures – I’m hoping to find the guy who makes a hot tub out of the back of his pickup truck – he’s my favorite.

* I’m getting pretty used to being home alone during the day. Tuesday I was wandering around the house after my shower – in just my underwear – when I noticed the FedEx truck driving away. There was a package in my mudroom. The guy had to walk right past my wide-open kitchen windows to get to the mudroom. The kitchen where I was dancing around in my unmentionables, singing along to Love Shack on my Ipod. Poor guy was probably scarred for life. I thought he drove away kinda fast.

* I’m housesitting this weekend for a friend of mine who has a litter of puppies she needs to have someone keep an eye on. I am making the supreme sacrifice to help her out, because I'm just a wonderfully caring friend. Did I mention that she has a gorgeous in-ground pool with a Tiki bar and outdoor fireplace? I know, I know. I’m just a giver.

* For those of you keeping track, this past week we have had more non-rainy days than rainy ones. Unbelievable. It wasn’t all sunshine, but it hardly rained at all. You can almost feel the pallor lifting from the whole state. Welcome to Vacationland.

Shake Your Groove Thing

2009-07-16T08:24:00.004-04:00

For many years, and up until a few years ago, I used to sing with the local chapter of Sweet Adelines, an international group devoted to barbershop singing for women. There were about 30 members, and I sang Bass or Baritone, since I have a low voice. It was not only some of the best singing I've ever been privileged to be a part of, it was also an excuse to dress up in girly clothes and makeup to a level I have not experienced before or since.

Once a year, the Sweet Adelines go to "competition" and sing two songs for judging by some incredibly picky professionals. We never won our Region (or even our division within the region) - although we did get 'most improved' one year - but we did our thing on the big stage, just like all the giant choruses. Each group sings one ballad (slow song) and one up-tune. During the up-tune, there's 'choreo' which is short for choreography, but sounds a bit more sophisticated than it actually was (at least in our group).

Anyway, here's a photo of my former singing group onstage at Symphony Hall during our performance at Region I competition. in the midst of the big finish of our up-tune. The song is "You've Got to See Mama Every Night (or you can't see Mama at all)." I am in the front row, second from left, and am shaking my, uh, feather boa, like nobody's business. I was hot, baby, but you can see that for yourself...

Distractions

2009-07-15T09:18:00.003-04:00

I'm having a hard time concentrating on the computer lately. Partly because I'm trying so hard to get a job that my computer time is spent looking for openings, perusing company websites, and contacting head hunters. I've been spending 6 or more hours per day just on the job hunt, and after that, my eyes can't take any more.

Oh, and then the other distraction: It's not raining. It's not raining. IT'S NOT RAINING!

I have been trying to speed-read through all my favorite blogs without commenting, but that seems a bit unsatisfying to me. I'm an extrovert by nature, and if I stop by to see you, I want you to know it. When I get to your blog, while I'm reading it, I feel like you're speaking to me. Just me - at least at that moment. In my mind, we're having a conversation, you and I, and I want to respond to you. That's what extroverts do.

Part of the problem is that a lot of the bloggers I read are funny and clever - sometimes downright hysterical, in fact. When I read something especially witty, trying not to comment on it is almost impossible. How else will you know I'm laughing my ass off?

Perhaps I'll give up sleeping. I mean, sleeping isn't that important, is it? Or, maybe, I'll get a great job where I can blog all day long if I want without them noticing. If anyone knows of an opening in a position like that, please put in a good word for me.

Africa

2009-07-12T22:26:00.002-04:00

I usually don't pass on videos, but this one is simply amazing to me. Before you hit 'play' make sure your sound is turned up, and stick it out for the first 2 or 2 1/2 minutes. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.

It really says a lot to me about teamwork - if a large group of people can make the sound of a rainforest, imagine what we could do if we all worked together.

We've come to the end of the touchy-feely 'love is all you need' blog post. Join me tomorrow for our regularly scheduled salute to sarcasm.

F is for Friday Fragments

2009-07-10T09:21:00.003-04:00

It's time for Friday Fragments again. This is where I can dump out all the random stuff that isn't fully formed enough to be its own post. Of course, I realize the line is a fine one. If you like randomness, go check out our High Priestess of Fragmentation, Mrs. 4444 over at Half Past Kissin' Time. She's the one who started this thing, and she's funnier than a cat in pajamas.

* I am following the Tour de France obsessively again this year. I have been watching the tour for about thirty years, and love love love it. I think it is the most amazing demonstration of the triumph of the human body - and the human spirit. It's a perfect combination of athletic prowess, strategy, physical vs. mental strength and a huge helping of human interest. It also doesn't hurt that the scenery through Spain and France is so spectacular. This race is unlike anything we have here in the U.S. and I'm glued to it.

* Some people have recently commented that they wouldn’t be able to stand living here in Maine because of the horribly rainy weather. To that I say this: Rain? That’s nothing. You should see our snowstorms. Truthfully, though, this is usually a beautiful place to live. Yes, we have to deal with difficult winters, but they are gorgeous and provide us with a climate for creative play – skiing, skating, dogsledding, building snow men and snow forts – you can’t do that in the south. This rainy spell in the summer is unusual for us, which is probably why it has been so hard to take. Maine is filled with natural wonders, from the rocky coast to the majestic mountains, and there’s a reason it’s called Vacationland. Just not lately.

* Oh, and for the record? Sunny again today, just like yesterday. It’s a miracle.

* My girlfriend Jonel, who has just started blogging (I knew I could suck her in) wrote a very sweet post about me on my birthday. I got all teary-eyed and everything. Click here to read it or check out her blog at Just Sayin'. I also received some wonderful comments and emails. You bloggy people rock. Sometimes I wonder if I'm going to make it, but somebody is always there with a kind word and it keeps me going. I'm sending you all one of those smacky Dating Game kisses.

*I was going to put in a video of the Dating Game kiss here (for you younger folks who don't remember the show) but when I searched 'dating game kiss' on you tube, I got a bunch of stuff that made me want to gouge out my eyes. Although I did find a video of David Cassidy from when he was on the show. Love you, David!! But I digress...

* In case anybody in Hollywood wants to know, there is no need to make any more animated movies about rodents. Rodents are creepy. Cutesy, animated rodents? Still creepy. Having to watch movie trailers about animated rodents? Cruel. And creepy.

* Earlier this week I stopped in at Wal-Mart about 9:00 at night, and in the entryway (between the two sets of automatic doors) there were 6 of those carts – the ones that people use to drive around in when they have difficulty walking - all gathered together, with their drivers all talking at the same time. I slowed my step, hoping to hear what was going on (because I’m the curious type. Or I’m nosy. Whatever.) Anyway, it turns out that one guy was having trouble with his machine, and the others all came to rescue him. I love that we still live in a time where people will help each other. My batteries have been running low lately, and I might need rescuing any minute. Good to know that someone will be there.

* I never get tired of helping Brandon get dressed up for theme days at the camp where he works. Every Friday they have a different theme, and all the counselors dress up to match the theme. Brandon refuses to be outdone, so he really goes all out, no matter what the theme is. He’s dressed up as Robin Hood, a clown, a robot, a court jester, and of course his favorite: a pirate (Johnny Depp, even, complete with eye liner). It’s great fun. This year his girlfriend Sandy, who also works at camp, was here for the dress-up fun. The theme today is Movie Premiere, complete with red carpet and fun movie-related activities all day. Brandon and Sandy went off looking like celebrities - he was in an all-black suit, tie. fedora and sunglasses; she was in a long black gown with heels and evening clutch. I know the camp kids really get a kick out of it, but I think Brandon enjoys it more. He’s a ham. I wonder where he gets that from? I forgot to take a picture this morning, so I’ll leave you with this one of him from pirate theme day.

The Wanderer

2009-07-08T08:33:00.003-04:00

Another rainy day. I can feel the melancholy in the air. It's hard to concentrate and I find myself wandering, both figuratively and literally.

Yesterday was my 49th birthday. I guess that means I need to update my profile (but I don't think I'll rush - let's pretend I'm still 48 for another couple of days). All day yesterday I found that I was holding a conversation in my head. A one-way conversation (okay, I guess that makes it a monologue) with my birth mother. I've been having this conversation since I was a child, but this year it seems particularly difficult, I think because I know who she is - where she is, even. It's one of those 'so near and yet so far' things. Since I can't seem to let go of it, I'm going to write it down and see if that helps. It went something like this:

Hey, do you remember what you were doing 49 years ago today? God, I wish I knew what it was like then - what you went through. There are a million things I want to know. Were you in labor a long time? Was anyone there with you? I hope you didn't have to go through it alone. I know you delivered me without C-section, and I'm glad you didn't have that particular scar to remind you - if you were trying to forget, which I'm guessing you might have been.

I wish I knew what it was like for you in the preceding 9 months, too. You must have been scared. I hope you had people - friends or family - who stood by you and helped you through it.

Do you think of me on July 7th each year - or is it one of those things that you thought about the first few years, but gradually stopped noticing? Did you picture me at different ages? When I turned one, did you wonder if I was walking? When I was five, did you think about me starting school? Were you ever curious about whether I got married, had kids of my own?

If only you'd talk to me. Answer some of my questions - or at least pass on the medical information I need so badly. If only I could say the things I've held inside for so long. If only I could tell you how much I appreciate what you did 49 years ago. Thank you for my life.

Just a Little Bit

2009-07-06T22:03:00.002-04:00

We've just had two sunny days in a row. TWO! It went a long way toward drying things up, but the ground is still saturated. At least the house doesn't feel damp any more, and I might even be able to mow some grass tomorrow.

Because it was the first sun we've had in about a month, I have been staying off the computer and trying to get some outside chores done. I've decided that if we're going to have precious little sunshine this summer, I'll have to take advantage and save my blogging for rainy days. The weather channel says that will happen soon enough. Arghh.

I have been applying for jobs at an amazing rate, so feel free to send some positive thoughts my way. And if anybody has any 'how to survive hot flashes' advice, I'd be thrilled to hear it. They're happening all day - and night - and are driving me batty. I don't know what I'll do if summer ever actually comes!

In the meantime, I hope you are well, and enjoying a rain-free summer. I can't wait to hear all about your adventures.

Fragmentation

2009-07-03T03:00:00.000-04:00

Welcome to Friday Fragments, the place to unload all those odd, random thoughts you might have while you're watching the rain fall day after day after day. Mrs. 4444, from Half Past Kissin' Time, is the hostess of this party, and she's probably a lot sunnier than I am, so go check her out.

* I’ve been watching reruns of The West Wing (since I’m stuck in the house up here in rainy Vacationland) and noticed that a bunch of actors from that show have gone on to star in their own TV shows. As a matter of fact, I think USA network’s entire original programming schedule includes actors that used to be on the West Wing.

* Alex, who’s away for the summer, has actually called me several times. I don’t know if somebody is prodding him to call, but I don’t care. It is so wonderful to hear his voice on the phone, especially because he initiated the call. I sent him up a couple of care packages (snacks that he likes, a computer game, a favorite shirt he forgot) and he called to say thank you, but a couple of times he just called to chat. Un-freaking-believable. It made my heart all squishy inside.

* If you were planning to visit our beautiful state for vacation this year, you might want to wait a while. They announced on the news that it has rained 24 out of the last 27 days. The ground is so saturated that people who live on the edge of hills, cliffs or water frontage are being encouraged to check the stability of the land their houses are on. THE STABILITY OF THE LAND UNDER THEIR HOUSE for Pete’s sake. You might wake up and find that your house is in the lake. Nice. Aren't you just dying to come visit? Maybe you could rent a cabin on a lake. One that's actually ON the lake. Vacation memories in the making.

* On the plus side, we’re saving on bottled water. We’re hardly going through it at all. I think we may be absorbing so much liquid through the humidity level of the air, so who needs to drink anything?

* I may have mentioned this before, but I think that commercials for things we can’t get up here should be banned from my TV. If I see one more Sonic commercial, I may scream. We can’t go to Sonic. THERE ARE NO SONICS. There are no Cici’s Pizza buffets, either. Stop telling me about them.

* I was trying on my sandals – pretending that it was nice enough outside to wear them – and found something troubling. My left foot no longer fits in any of the sandals I wore just last year. I guess whatever happened to my foot this past winter (coincidentally the thing that still hurts like a bastard) has caused it to grow. It’s noticeably bigger than my right foot. Hmmm. I hope that doesn’t start happening to other parts of my body. Maybe I have some disease that makes everything on my left side bigger – foot, ear, hand, boob? Boy, I really hope it doesn’t affect my left ass cheek – that’s already plenty big enough. Not that attractive, I guess, but I wonder if I could get my own TLC special?

Can't Stop the Rain

2009-07-02T09:03:00.003-04:00

Can't talk about the rain. Can't talk about the rain. Can't talk about the rain.

I've promised myself that I will not devote any more blog-space to the rain. You've heard enough about the freaking rain already to last a lifetime. I know that if I mention that it is still raining, you might just click away and never come back. So I won't talk about how it is making everyone in the whole state cranky. About the ground that is so saturated that it's turning into quicksand. About the dog yard that has black and green stuff growing in it that I can only assume is mold (?) and that must not be good for dogs to be walking on all day. About towels that won't dry and carpets that feel damp to walk on.

Instead, I will talk about all the great stuff that's going on here.

Hmmm. Wait. Gimme a minute. I'll think of something.

I applied for several jobs this week. All of which I'm completely qualified for. A couple of them should be beating down my door, begging me to work for them. I've decided that I don't really like the whole 'apply online' trend. Often, there are online applications to fill out, and space to attach your resume, but it's not the same. They almost never list the name of the person you're actually applying to, which makes it difficult to call and follow up. My auto-filled work history doesn't look as nice as it does on a crisp, clean sheet of high-quality paper. An emailed cover letter just isn't as impressive as the one you can hold in your hand. It just seems to be taking the personality out of the whole job-hunting thing, and I happen to think that is where I shine.

That might be all I got...

Oh, except that yesterday I didn't have to clean up any cat puke. None. And none yet today. It might be a new record. Who says nothing good ever happens around here?

Are you scared about what Friday Fragments might look like tomorrow????

Baby, It's Over

2009-06-30T11:18:00.003-04:00

The play is now officially over, after the cast and crew gathered one more time last night to strike the set. It was quick. What took hours and hours to design, construct, refine and paint took only minutes to destroy. It gave me an odd feeling, looking at the stage, stripped back to bare walls. Working on the play has given me something to do, someplace to be, at a time in my life when I really needed that. I feel a little lost, but I'm proud to have been a part of it. My friend Andy Turner (the director) wrote a great wrap-up piece, which you can read here.

I was totally surprised to find that my two college friends - the ones I get together with for Girls Night Out - made the long drive up to see the play on Friday night. I couldn't have been more stunned. I am almost never caught unaware, and generally not a fan of things I don't know about in advance, but this was one of the best surprises ever. One of them even brought her teenage son, who's involved with theater at his high school and is quite the dancer. It meant so much to me that they made the trip just to support me. They said they enjoyed it, and it really made my night. Jonel, who's a brand-new blogger, wrote about it here.

Thank you to all those who emailed me or commented to express their concern over my reaction to Billy Mays' death. It is a sad time for those of us 'As Seen on TV' fans. There aren't many people who can shout consumers into buying stuff, but Billy had the gift. He'll be missed by insomniacs the world over.

I don't know if it's the weather (we're still getting rained on. every damned day.) or the apres-play letdown, or the other million things going on in my life, but I'm feeling like staying in bed all day. It's after noon already, and me? Still in my pj's. Soon, though, I'm planning to head to the mailbox for my daily dose of "we were impressed with your credentials and experience, however, you were not selected for an interview" letters. That's always fun.

I hope where you are is sunny and warm.

Fragmenting Away

2009-06-26T08:43:00.003-04:00

Time again for Friday Fragments, the place to spit out that stuff that occurs to you in the shower or while you're putting clothes in the dryer. It was the brainchild of Mrs. 4444 over at Half Past Kissin' Time, who hosts this party every Friday. Go check it out and embrace the randomness.

*Well, the sunny weather didn’t last long. After one hot and humid day, we’re back to cloudy weather. I’m going to try really, really hard not to whine, but I’m not promising anything.

* Have I mentioned lately that I love my son Brandon's sense of humor? We both find amusement in the oddest places. Recently I found some sleep pants for him at Walmart. They were lightweight cotton, just like he likes, with Coca Cola designs, and they came in a tall metal can. The best part was that they were marked down to $3. Score! When I got home, after I gave them to him, I was looking over my Walmart receipt (you can never be too careful) and noticed how that particular item was listed. Canned Pants . . . . . . . $3.00. Go ahead. Say it out loud. CANNED PANTS. We're still giggling, and I think it will go on a while. "Hey, are those your canned pants you're wearing?"

* We had a good-sized, if slightly quieter crowd at the play last night. Earlier in the process of putting on this play – back in rehearsals, when I had heard the lines over and over again until I wanted to scream – I wondered how on earth actors in a show on Broadway managed to do the same show, every night, for a year or more without going nuts. After dealing with dropped lines, medical emergencies, lighting or sound gaffes and the unpredictable and changing energies of the audience…I realize that it’s never the same show twice.

* One of the other bloggers that I read, As Cape Cod Turns, mentioned this week that she was in the airport very early in the morning with her jump-rope team children, and wishing that everyone else there would wear more obvious signs (like team jackets) so that she would know why they were there so early. This idea is something I’ve wished for myself for a long time. I think it would be cool if people wore signs that explained something about them that I’m dying to know – without having to actually ask them, which might appear rude. A larger version of a stick-on name tag would do nicely, and could explain things like WHY I CHOSE THIS OUTFIT or WHAT I’M TRYING TO EXPRESS WITH THIS HIDEOUS TATTOO/PIERCING or WHY I FEEL JUSTIFIED IN STANDING DIRECTLY IN YOUR WAY WITHOUT ANY SIGN THAT I WILL EVER MOVE SO THAT YOU CAN REACH THE CHICKEN NOODLE SOUP.

* Did you ever find a freakishly long hair, growing out of you, somewhere that horrified you? And did you ever discover this when you were out in public, and completely unable to remove it? And then, were you so obsessed with it that you could no longer concentrate on anything else until you got home and plucked the offensive thing out? And then, did you have a hard time not thinking about how long it took to get to that length without you noticing it? Oh, well, then…me neither.

* Hallie, over at Wonderful World of Wieners, is still doing her fundraising raffle. You can enter for as little as $1, and you can win one of 25 prize packages. We figured out the other night that there are THOUSANDS of dollars worth of prizes, and some really cool stuff you can see here. The best part is that the money all goes to increase awareness for organ donation, which is a terrific cause. Read about it, or just go donate. I’ll keep my fingers crossed for you, but I’m planning to win the New England prize package.

* Finally, I want to ask you all to do me a little favor. My friend Jonel, who I’ve talked about here on this blog, and who is a vital part of Girls Night Out, has finally started a blog of her own, Just Sayin'. I’ve known Jonel since college, and love her madly. She’s been there for me through so much – happy times and sad, victories and failures, so many tears, but even more laughter. I really couldn’t have managed without her in my life. She’s got a terrific sense of humor and a unique way of looking at things. She’s doing Fragments, too. Please, go and welcome her to the blog world with a comment. It would mean so much to her – and to me.

Here Comes the Sun

2009-06-25T07:57:00.003-04:00

Yesterday I was a little whiny, I admit it. Sorry about that. My usual sunny disposition evidently requires some actual sun a little more often than once every three weeks.

I took my own (and yours) advice and went to a movie yesterday, and the best part was that my friend Andrew's lovely wife, Corrine, came with me! We saw The Proposal, the new Sandra Bullock flick, since it was purported to be a 'chick flick' and I wanted a happy ending, dammit. The movie was cute - not laugh-out-loud funny the whole time or anything, but cute. Seeing Ms. Bullock mostly naked did nothing for my self-esteem, but who cares? I was munching on chocolate covered peanuts, out of the house, and it wasn't raining.

The best part was visiting with Corrine. She's just terrific, and a great listener. Andy, you're a lucky, lucky man. Corrine, I hope we can get together again soon - and this time we'll skip the movie and just visit!

When I got home, I had a missed call from my buddy Jocelyn, who invited me over for popcorn and a few episodes of Lost. Unfortunately, by the time I got there, she had eaten all the popcorn. How rude! Actually, though, it was my own fault, since I decided to cook dinner for my son and his girlfriend first. I love visiting Jocelyn - I can be totally comfortable over there. Sometimes I even go over in my pj's. We watched a couple of episodes from the second season, which she's currently working through with Netflix, which renewed my resolve to get caught up on this show. Maybe during the next rainy spell.

When I left Jocelyn's house, there was an actual break in the clouds. You could sorta see a tiny little patch of sky if you squinted your eyes just enough. Ahh, Hope, you sly elusive feeling, is that you?

Last night, to polish off a much-improving mood, I received an unexpected phone call from my Aunt Marlena. She's my dad's youngest sister. I haven't spoken to her in a really long time. It was a thrill to hear her voice (and that fantastic Jersey accent I love so much) and get caught up on what all my cousins are doing. When I was growing up, we visited my dad's family a lot, and we were very close. There were 7 girls, including me, and most of us were pretty near in age. My poor brother was the only boy, and had to play Barbies and babydolls or be alone.

Aunt Mar was always the 'cool' aunt - she always seemed so young, and much more modern than my folks. We were reminiscing about how her oldest daughter had an almost life-size doll that looked just like her. I coveted that doll madly when I was a kid. You could hold the doll's hand and it would walk along beside you - it was the bomb, let me tell you. Evidently, Aunt Mar didn't love the doll all the time, though. She said it would constantly scare the stuffing out of her, when she would walk into the darkened playroom, having just seen her daughter upstairs, and see the doll sitting there. Yikes.

It was great to talk with her, and it brings back such wonderful memories of my childhood. We didn't have a big family (my mom was an only child, and my dad had just the two sisters) but we all treasured being together. Some of the happiest times I remember were in that house in New Jersey. I need to do a better job of staying in touch.

So, I got through the day and it ended on a much better note than it started. Then, this morning, it finally happened - the sun. In the sky. Streaming through my window. Un-freaking-believable.

If you're looking for me, I'll be outside. I might come in for lunch, and to shower before I head off to the play tonight. If I can force myself. To the director of Never Too Late: if I don't show up, feel free to start without me.

Same Old Song

2009-06-24T06:52:00.002-04:00

I don't think I can stand it one more minute. I'm at the end of my rope, on my last nerve, and at the edge, ready to jump. I want to kill somebody. Or at least to maim somebody. I want to scream at the top of my lungs, stamp my feet and break something.

What has driven me to this point? The weather. Rain, to be specific. It is STILL RAINING. The weather guy says it has rained 16 out of the last 18 days. I think he's lying. I don't remember any un-rainy days.

I was planning to write a fun post today, but I can't think of anything funny. Rain has permeated my house, my life, my body and my brain. It's like a headache; you know how, when you have a really bad headache, nothing else matters? You can't think about anything else, no matter how hard you try? Well, this is how I feel about the rain.

I'm watching my tomato plants literally rot and die. I'm dealing with a leaky roof and a flooded basement. I'm powerless to stop the dogs from turning the kennel into a mud pit. In my head it's becoming symbolic of my overall disastrous life, and that's the part that scares me.

I know there are worse problems in the world - heck, I have worse problems, myself - but my soul needs some sun. Yesterday I could barely force myself to get out of bed, and today I'm on the couch with a blanket (is this progress?) in my dark, un-sunlit living room.

I did make a decision though, while I was typing this. I need to do something. Somewhere that the sun or rain doesn't matter. Something to take my mind off everything.

This girl? Needs a movie. And not from Netflix, either. I need a real movie-theater movie. A chick flick with a guaranteed honest-to-goodness, don't-care-if-it's-realistic, happy ending. Something completely unlike my life, in other words. Any suggestions? I wonder if there is such a film playing at the local theater. If there is, I'm there. It might get me through the day.

And tomorrow? They said the sun might show its face, but even if it doesn't, I have the show to look forward to, and that will make all the difference. There's no weather that can distract me from my gloriously hectic backstage spot - because, even though it's as hot as the fourth circle of hell, I still love it. And it doesn't rain there, even when the humidity approaches 100%. Actors and stage lights and audiences trump Mother Nature every time.

Swamp Thing

2009-06-22T12:05:00.003-04:00

I'm swamped. Literally. It has been raining so long and so hard here in my little section of God's country that I am swamped. Everything I own feels moist (and not in a good way). My roof that only leaks when it rains for 40 days and 40 nights? Is leaking. My basement? Flooded. My wooden doors are swelling with the humidity to the point that I have to do that cartoon thing, where you grab the doorknob with both hands and brace your feet on the doorframe in order to get them open. I'm afraid that if there were a fire, we wouldn't be able to get out. Oh. What am I thinking? Nothing catches fire when it's wet. Never mind.

Anyway, because I can only focus on how miserable the weather is, and how tired I am, I am going to print a cute email I got from a friend today. It made me smile - I hope it has the same effect on you.

I just want to thank all of you for your educational e-mails over the past year. I am totally screwed up now and have little chance of recovery.
I no longer open a public bathroom door without using a paper towel or have them put lemon slices in my ice water without worrying about the bacteria on the lemon peel.
I can't use the remote in a hotel room because I don't know what the last person was doing while flipping through the adult movie channels.
I can't sit down on the hotel bedspread because I can only imagine what has happened on it since it was last washed.
I have trouble shaking hands with someone who has been driving because the number one pastime while driving alone is picking ones nose (although cell phone usage may be taking the number one spot).
Eating a little snack sends me on a guilt trip because I can only imagine how many gallons of Trans fats I have consumed over the years.
I can't touch any woman's purse for fear she has placed it on the floor of a public bathroom.
I MUST SEND MY SPECIAL THANKS to whoever sent me the one about poop in the glue on envelopes because I now have to use a wet sponge with every envelope that needs sealing.
ALSO, now I have to scrub the top of every can I open for the same reason.
I no longer have any savings because I gave it to a sick girl (Penny Brown) who is about to die in the hospital for the 1,387,258th time.
I no longer have any money at all, but that will change once I receive the $15,000 that Bill Gates/Microsoft and AOL are sending me for participating in their special e-mail program.
I no longer worry about my soul because I have 363,214 angels looking out for me, and St. Theresa's Novena has granted my every wish.
I no longer eat KFC because their chickens are actually horrible mutant freaks with no eyes or feathers.
I no longer use cancer-causing deodorants even though I smell like a water buffalo on a hot day.
THANKS TO YOU I have learned that my prayers only get answered if I forward an e-mail to seven of my friends and make a wish within five minutes.
BECAUSE OF YOUR CONCERN, I no longer drink Coca Cola because it can remove toilet stains.
I no longer can buy gasoline without taking someone along to watch the car so a serial killer won't crawl in my back seat when I'm pumping gas.
I no longer drink Pepsi or Dr. Pepper since the people who make these products are atheists who refuse to put 'Under God' on their cans. I no longer use Saran Wrap in the microwave because it causes cancer.
AND THANKS FOR LETTING ME KNOW I can't boil a cup of water in the microwave anymore because it will blow up in my face... Disfiguring me for life.
I no longer check the coin return on pay phones because I could be pricked with a needle infected with AIDS.
I no longer go to shopping malls because someone will drug me with a perfume sample and rob me.
I no longer receive packages from UPS or Fed Ex since they are actually Al Qaeda in disguise.
I no longer shop at Target since they are French and don't support our American troops or the Salvation Army.
I no longer answer the phone because someone will ask me to dial a number for which I will get a phone bill with calls to Jamaica , Uganda , Singapore , and Uzbekistan.
I no longer buy expensive cookies from Neiman Marcus since I now have their recipe.
THANKS TO YOUR GREAT ADVICE I can't ever pick up $5.00 dropped in the parking lot because it probably was placed there by a sex molester waiting underneath my car to grab my leg.
I can no longer drive my car because I can't buy gas from certain gas companies! I can't do any gardening because I'm afraid I'll get bitten by the brown recluse and my hand will fall off.
If you don't send this e-mail to at least 144,000 people in the next 70 minutes, a large dove with diarrhea will land on your head at 5:00 p.m. tomorrow afternoon and the fleas from 12 camels will infest your back, causing you to grow a hairy hump. I know this will occur because it actually happened to a friend of my next door neighbor's ex-mother-in-law's second husband's cousin's beautician . . .
Oh, by the way..... A German scientist from Argentina , after a lengthy study, has discovered that people with insufficient brain activity read stuff on their computer with their hand on the mouse. Don't bother taking it off now, it's too late.

Phantom Fragments

2009-06-19T06:37:00.005-04:00

Welcome to Friday Fragments. If you're new, FF is the place to release all those thoughts that fly around your head, interfering with your new digital TV reception. If you like randomness, check out our hostess and the inventor of Friday Fragments, Mrs. 4444 over at Half Past Kissin' Time. If you have time, take a few minutes and visit the other fragmenters, who are all conveniently linked over there - it's some of my favorite weekend reading.

* It would be hard to describe exactly how hot it is backstage at the theater, especially during the performances. Stage lights, crowded spaces and overheated, heavily made up and costumed actors combine to make it feel like the fourth circle of hell. I am sweating so much back there I think I have formed a perfect biosphere inside my headset earpiece. Last night I'm pretty sure it rained in there.

* I'm remembering how different each performance of a show can be. Energy levels can change, and the audience can be a huge factor. Last night the audience didn't laugh in spots that our dress rehearsal audience loved, but laughed uproariously in totally unexpected places. As long as they're laughing, though, I'm happy.

* You'll be happy to know that the toilet survived the show intact during opening night. One of my favorite commenters, Scriptor Senex had this to say about the toilet incident:

Well, I've heard of having people who learned the lines and waited backstage in the hope that the actor was taken poorly and they could go on and make a name for themselves. I didn't know that toilets did it as well! Whatever toilet number 2 does it will never be remembered for its part the way toilet no 1 will be! May it rest in peace.

* My youngest son is leaving for the summer today. Even though I've known he was doing this for months, and even though I know it's a great opportunity for him to work AND have a great time, I can't shake the sadness I feel. I'm going to miss him terribly.

* Hallie, over at Wonderful World of Wieners, is having a fundraising raffle. The money raised is going to one of my favorite causes, promoting organ donation. Hallie's dad, Bill, was the recipient of a new heart 6 years ago, and she's wanted to do something to help the cause for a long time. The prizes she's collected for the raffle are amazing and are worth thousands of dollars. Read about the raffle here, or go here and read about the fundraiser. It's a great cause, and you can win some unbelievable stuff with a donation of even $1...what are you waiting for?

Much Ado About Something

2009-06-17T09:19:00.001-04:00

Dress rehearsal is over. It went well – very well, I think. We had quite a large audience, and everyone I spoke to enjoyed it very much. That being said, we did have a little, well, let’s call it an incident. Actually, a BIG incident. It was a first for me, and I’ve done a fair amount of theater.

Most of you know that my good friend Andy from A Long Patience, is the director of this show. He thought it might be fun for us to coordinate our blog posts today to give you all the whole story about what happened, so go read about what things looked like from the audience’s perspective here. Then come back, and I’ll tell you what things were like backstage. Go ahead. I’ll wait.

During the show, I am backstage, with too-little room and too many props, costumes and actors. I have a headset (actually two – one on each side of the stage) that connect me with the sound and lighting guys, which, unfortunately, is not wireless. It is impossible to undress and redress an actress in the 48 seconds we’re allotted, so I often put the headset down in order to do some of my duties. It is five thousand degrees Celsius back there, and any sound we make is catapulted out to the audience, so about 50% of my job is to keep everybody quiet. I have patented the scowl, accompanied by the shake of the head and the international pursed-lips expression which signifies SHUT UP!

Anyway, when “THE INCIDENT” happened, I was standing at my script-stand (which I equipped with a handy-dandy clip-on light from the dollar store) making sure everybody was where they were supposed to be. I heard the crash, and looked up to find everyone standing back stage looking at me. Like I would know what was going on and what to do. What, did these people think I was the stage manager or something?

I rushed to the stage’s kitchen entrance – the only place I can see the stage during the show, and saw what had happened. I thought, “Oh, crap,” and then “I wonder how they’re going to handle that.” Two of the actors who were backstage with me also came to see what was going on, and one of them whispered to me, “he’s bleeding.” Oh My God. Let it not be that bad, let it not be that bad, I prayed silently. I knew that, in just a short time, he would be exiting the stage for just the briefest moment, as his character rushes out the front door, and then back in again. I sent somebody to meet him at the door with a napkin, and I started trying to remember where I had last seen the first aid kit.

Of course, I had no idea where it was. Maybe we wouldn’t need it, I mean, maybe it wasn’t that bad. I peeked out again. He is clutching the napkin in his fist, and the part of it that I can see? Is soaked in blood. At one point, he waved his arm a bit, and I saw blood drops fly. Oh, Crap, Crap, Crap.

At this point, I turned to see an angel holding a first aid kit. Actually, it wasn’t an angel, but rather a guy who belongs to the theater group. He isn’t in this production, but he’s a veteran of many, many shows, and he must have seen what happened from the audience, ran downstairs to the building’s kitchen (which we use as the make-up area) grabbed the first aid kit and ran up the back stairs to where I was. I put on my headset to make sure the tech guys were paying attention to what might be something we had to work around, grabbed one of my other flashlights, held it in my teeth, and rummaged in the kit for supplies while I talked to the sound and light guys.

At this point, I remembered that the injured actor was eventually going to exit on the other side, so I sent one of the crew over there with gauze pads and wrap. While he went, I told the tech guys to be ready to dim the stage lights and cover with some of our ‘transition’ music if we needed to.

I rushed across to the other side, and got there before the actor exited, so I had time to reconnect with the tech crew via the other head set. The angel I spoke of earlier somehow had found a nurse in the audience, and brought her up to take a quick look at his hand. When he came off, I knew we had a few minutes to spare while another actor was doing some things on stage, and I was completely confident that we could buy some time with music and lights if we had to, so I was calm. The other people back there? Not so much. If you could have seen it, it probably looked like I was crazy, because everyone else was going nuts, and I’m calmly telling everybody what we were going to do, like this was all part of the plan all along.

Anyway, the nurse wrapped his hand tightly with the gauze, and there was this massive effort to get him into his costume change. It was actually pretty funny, now that I think back on it, because he’s standing up on this platform, about 2 and a half feet higher than most of the people who were helping him out of his clothes and into pajamas, all while the nurse, who’s also on the lower level, is wrapping his wound, and I’m standing there with my headset’s cords stretched to the limit, trying to see what’s going on and decide whether we can continue or we have to stop.

At some point, Andy showed up backstage. He’s trying to find out how the actor is doing, and telling me we could stop the show. I had a moment of – Look, buddy, I have it all under control – but I couldn’t blame him. If this were my show, I’d have been back there, too. And it was only dress rehearsal. By this time, I was pretty sure we were going to make it, so I told the tech guys we were going on. After things were underway on stage again, I headed back to my normal side of the stage.

I didn’t even have time to stop and think about what had happened until after the show was over. I guess it’s part of the charm of the whole backstage experience that you’re so incredibly busy. When I finally got home last night, I was so wound up I couldn’t sleep. I kept thinking of things: Where are we going to get another toilet? I wonder if Dennis needed stitches? Did somebody sweep up the shards so nobody gets hurt? How are we going to rearrange the action if Dennis can’t do some of the stuff he’s supposed to do?

Luckily for me, I think those problems? Are Andy’s.

Dressed to Kill

2009-06-16T03:00:00.001-04:00

Well, it's finally here. Dress rehearsal tonight. I'm excited and nervous about it at the same time. It's been so long since I was involved with a theater production, but in some ways it feels like I was never away.

Dress rehearsal is always such an important night. There will be an audience - selected important people are invited - and this makes all the difference. For weeks and weeks we have been rehearsing the show. The same lines, over and over again. It's a comedy, and those of us watching have laughed, but it's not the same as when there's an audience. The 50th time you hear a funny line, well, it's just not that funny anymore. I've heard it all, and read along in my script so often, sometimes I think I could go on and replace any of the actors should an emergency occur. Who needs understudies? I'll just do it.

Suddenly, though, when there are fresh ears, it's as if it's all new again. The actors will find out where the big laughs are, and learn to adjust their timing to allow for that. We'll also find out some important stuff tonight, like whether the quick costume changes will work. How to work lines around the sound effects. Whether it's possible to melt from the extreme heat when we're all crowded in the small space backstage.

Somehow, I hope to keep everything organized backstage. Get the girls changed into new outfits during the scene changes. Make sure the props are at hand, and in hand, when they are supposed to be. Make sure the tech guys know when it's safe to bring up the lights. Ensure there is an apply supply of water and lozenges ready for scratchy throats. Be a silent cheerleader for actors coming off of or waiting to go out on stage. Keep track of where we are in the script in case anything goes wrong. See? Nervous and excited.

Dress Rehearsal. I can't wait.

Dizzy

2009-06-12T07:31:00.005-04:00

A couple of people asked me if I worked on Fragments all week, or if they all just came to me when I sat down to blog. The truth is that it’s a little bit of both. I have a word document saved on my computer where I jot down random thoughts that occur to me during the week. Then, when I actually go to write my Friday post, I use the notes I’ve made, and usually add one or two things that I think of while I’m writing. If you like it, check out Mrs. 4444 over at Half Past Kissin' Time. She's the hostess of this shin-dig, she's a blast, and her Favorite Fragmenter Award this week went to a friend of mine!

* It’s raining. Again. Pouring, actually. What’s with the weird weather pattern up here in the northeast? We had two 90-plus degree days in May – practically unheard of up here. Now, it’s the middle of June, and we’re lucky to get up to 58 degrees during the day. I’m ready for sun and warmth. I want to take my coffee out on the deck in the morning. I want to be able to stop wearing socks.

* I’m sorry that I disappointed some of you who assumed I had the lead role in the play! I am on the production crew, not on the stage. I have been assisting the director, and am now stage manager. We had our first run-through with lights, sound and costumes last night, and it was fun. The coolest part? I get to wear a head set so I can talk to the tech guys. And I kind of get to be the backstage boss. Not that I like to boss people around. Much.

* I was signing up to join the bone marrow registry this week, and reminded again of the fact that, as an adopted person, I’m a bit different. One of the question groups includes questions about where your ancestors were born. Well, Bone Marrow People, I can pretty much rule out Asia, Africa and Egypt, but beyond that, I can’t help you. If you really need to know which country in Europe my great great great grandfather came from, maybe my bone marrow is not for you. On the other hand, how often do you get volunteer bone marrow donors who could be related to practically anyone? (See there? Making lemonade again.)

* Maybe it’s the crappy weather and the fact that I’m exhausted, but lately it seems like there is an abundance of people and things who exist simply to bug me. I’ve started making a list – I know, I can’t help myself – and I’ll probably make them their own post, but I wanted to share one with you today: The new McDonald’s commercial for their crappy coffee drinks. (By the way, McD’s, saying CAFÉ doesn’t mean you are one.) This is the one where they show people commuting without any coffee, and they’re miserable and the announcer says “COMMUTE.” Then they show the same guy commuting with his overpriced McDonalds coffee knockoff and the announcer says “COMMUTE-TAY.” Okay, first of all, I hate people who put accent marks on random words for no reason. Everybody? It’s only cute when I do it. More importantly, nobody is going to believe that that ridiculously skinny woman (who wouldn’t be so skinny if she really drank that high-calorie swill every day) would actually get a seat on her overcrowded shuttle just by drinking a stupid sissy coffee and saying “SHUTTLE-AY.” You McD’s marketing guys need to shut up. You’re bothering me.

Could It Be Magic

2009-06-10T21:51:00.003-04:00

She lives. By that, of course, I mean I live. I have - more or less - recovered from the loathsome virus that threatened to exterminate me. And, like all obnoxious viruses, it has left me weak, exhausted and generally spent.

Luckily (?) I had a house full of guests during the glorious reign of the Virus That Shall Not Speak It's Name. Even more fortunately, these guests were mostly of the teenage species, who helped out immensely during my ordeal by asking for food and money, arm-wrestling me for the remote control, and remarking every 32 minutes that I probably had the swine flu (which of course sparked a number of exceedingly clever pig-related jokes.)

It's a good thing that I love my kids, and by default, their friends, most of the time. Otherwise, you might have been reading a guest blogger post explaining about my recent arrest for homicide and where you could send contributions to the bail and defense fund. You WOULD donate, wouldn't you? (Just say yes - since I'm not incarcerated, it's a moot point, anyway.)

I managed to make it to play rehearsal, but I know one of those days I wasn't very helpful. Mostly I was thinking the whole time, "why do these people have to be so DAMN LOUD?" Tonight things were much better. I can't believe we're almost to opening night. We have one more rehearsal this week, and then a tech rehearsal Monday for lighting and sound cues, dress rehearsal on Tuesday and then....Opening Night next Thursday. Hard to believe we're going to be ready, but I guess we'll make it happen. (sing with me: Overture, Curtain, Lights - this is it, the night of nights - no more rehearsing or nursing a part - we know every part by heart....)

The closer we get to the show, the more nervous I'm getting. I guess it's a good thing I'm behind the scenes and not on stage. I just want so much for this to go well, for everybody to do their best. I think the play is very funny, and I want the audience to have fun, to laugh, to GET it. There's nothing like the feeling when the audience is truly invested in a theatrical production. The energy seems to surge from the audience into the actors, inspiring them to a new level of performance. It's magical. That's all I want - a little magic. Is that so much to ask?

Too Much

2009-06-09T07:59:00.002-04:00

I just popped in to say hello. I am dealing with a number of things, not the least of which is an illness which appeared suddenly and is currently kicking my ass, and haven't had time to read or write.

Nonetheless, I am planning to survive this, and will be back to blogworld very soon. I hope you're all having great adventures, which I plan to read all about when I am able to keep my eyes open for more than 25 seconds at a time.

Of No Consequence

2009-06-05T07:26:00.003-04:00

Time for Friday Fragments again - even though I feel like I've written fragments all week after answering all those questions. If you like random, you're in the right place - and if you really, really like it, check out the mother ship: Mrs. 4444 over at Half Past Kissin' Time.

* I can only stand writing with an extra fine writing instrument. I like a micro point (uni-bell deluxe micro is my favorite) pen. I cannot stand using an old fashioned ball-point pen - to me if feels like I’m scraping the pen across the paper. I don’t use pencils unless I absolutely have to, for the same reason. If I’m forced to use a pencil, only a super-sharp one will do. I used to carry my own sharpener when I was in school. I choose to believe that it’s these little idiosyncrasies that add so much to my charm.

* Do you think that inconsiderate people ever suddenly realize? Like, one day, they’re trying to watch something they’re really interested in – a movie, a play, their kid’s recital – and somebody is talking or stomping around or blocking their view, and they suddenly think, Oh, wow! I think I’ve been doing stuff like that all my life!! I think I’ll start being a decent human being! Or maybe that guy who never uses his turn signal one day almost runs into someone who didn’t use theirs, and he thinks, gosh, I think I have caused other drivers to have to slam on their brakes a lot – I won’t do that anymore! Do you think that ever happens?

* You know what is NEVER a good sign? When someone asks you to add Imodium AD to the shopping list. Just saying.

* You know what else isn’t so good? When you come home and find a bloody shirt soaking in the sink. Of course, it was a good sign that someone took the time to start soaking the shirt at all. I figure if someone was bleeding to death, they wouldn’t have bothered, right? It turns out Alex had gone to the rescue of “an old woman who fell and put her eyeglasses into her eye.” Dude, what?? After further questioning, it turns out the woman fell, broke her glasses and one of the broken pieces pierced the skin NEAR her eye. Evidently there was quite a lot of blood, and in helping her, Alex got some on him. That might be the first time the blood soaking in my kitchen sink was NOT ours.

* Some of you may remember when I reviewed the three info-mercial products a while back? Well, I wish somebody – maybe one of you? – would review the ‘male enhancement’ product. I forget its name, but it’s the one that Smiling Bob uses. Every single time I see that commercial, I’m just filled with curiosity. How exactly does it work? And, does it really do anything? Inquiring minds want to know.

That's Enough For Now

2009-06-04T11:24:00.003-04:00

This might be the last question post for a while - although I haven't run out of questions. Some of the remaining questions will require more thought than I have to spare right now, and some of them are going to launch their own singular post. Again, I must say how impressed I was with your imagination. I've had fun reading, thinking and answering them all. Tomorrow we will be back to Friday Fragments, as usual.

What's a typical day like in the life of M.E.?
If I actually answered this question, I’m afraid my readers would simultaneously develop that sleeping sickness. I’m unhappily unemployed right now, so I spend a lot of time looking for a job, so far unsuccessfully. Other than that, I do house stuff, and yard stuff, and attend a lot of Alex’s activities. See? Boring.

How's the play going? What show is it and what is your role?
The play is coming along nicely. I’m having a bit of a panic attack, since we’re less than two weeks from opening night, and I have this “oh my gosh, how will we ever be ready???” feeling. Those who have been working in theater more recently than I assure me this is normal and nothing to worry about. The play is called Never Too Late, and it’s a comedy. I’m stage managing and assistant to the director, and having a ball.

If you were to morph into a canine, what breed would you be, and why?
Physically, I more or less resemble a Corgi (short legs, round body) but in my head, I’m a Border Collie (energetic and eager to please).

Where have you traveled?
When I was a teenager, I went to Italy for 10 glorious days. I’ve been to Canada a lot (since Maine is not far from our neighbor to the north). I’ve been all along the east coast, down to Florida, and as far west as St. Louis, MO. My favorite cities in the US, ones that I keep repeating visits to, are New York City, Boston and Washington, DC. One of my greatest regrets is that I have not traveled more, and I plan to remedy that someday.

What is your ideal place to live?
I got many variations on this question. I love Maine, although the winters are hard. I wouldn't want to spend all year anywhere that didn't really experience the change of seasons, because I just love that part of living up here. I guess I'd like to spend most of the year in Maine, but spend a couple of months (January and February, probably) somewhere warmer. Someplace I could golf and maybe sit on a beach with a book and one of those umbrella drinks.

What is the one thing you hope your neighbors never learn about you?
Everything. I hope I remain just as much a mystery to them as they are to me. I live in a fairly rural area, and we’re pretty spread out, so it’s not a friendly, sit-on-the-front-stoop-and-chat kind of place.

When you learned your birth name, were you tempted to try it out?
Oh, yes. I said it over and over to myself to see how it sounded. I kept thinking that Marjorie Ann was not that different than Mary Ellen. I had a couple of my friends call me Marjorie, just so I could see what that felt like. In the end, however, I’m not Marjorie. I mean, I could have been, perhaps, but that isn’t the way it worked out. My parents named me Mary Ellen, and that’s who I’ve become.

In the last few years (5?), what single event most changed your life?
It has to be the changing of the law that opened up Maine’s birth records so that I could access my original birth certificate. That piece of paper has changed everything. Although things haven’t been working out so well (yet!), there is a whole world of possibility out there now. Just knowing who my birth mother is and what my original given name was, after waiting my whole life for this information, was a transforming event.

Alice, who is having a baby, wanted to know:
1. How did you choose your sons' names?
2. What is the best part of a mother/son relationship? Hardest?
3. Any advice for raising a good, well-rounded boy?? (Both yours seem to be great kids!)
First of all, thanks for saying that. I wish I had some great story for how I picked the kids’ names, but I don’t. I bought one of those baby name books and started through it. The first name we got to that both of us liked was Brandon (and this was before 90210 made the name famous!) and that was it. We had picked out Paige Allison for a girl. With the second one, we went all the way through the book without agreeing and started back at the A’s again. My only criteria was that this one had to have a nickname (we discovered that there is no good nickname for Brandon, although one of my friends used to call him BranMuffin). We settled on Alexander John (Emily Marie for a girl).

The best thing about the mother/son relationship is realizing how deep the love is. There’s a moment when you realize that you love this other person more than you could have ever imagined - so much that you’d gladly give your life for them. That’s a pretty profound feeling. The other really cool thing is that you get to skip the teenage girl hormone thing. The hardest part is definitely letting them go. It seems like every day they take another step away from you, which is how it is supposed to be, but that doesn’t make it any easier. Whether it’s them riding their bike without you holding on, or driving out of the driveway on the way to prom, it all takes a little piece of your heart. I’m so proud of my kids, and I love them so much – they are definitely the best things to ever happen to me.

Advice for raising a boy? Gosh. I believe there are a million good ways to raise kids, and not one particular perfect way. I think we have to parent in a way that works with our personalities, as well as our kids’ personalities. I wanted to live in a happy, peaceful home, so I focused on that. No screaming or hitting allowed. Rough play outdoors. Whining not permitted. I wanted my sons to have a great relationship with each other, so I worked really hard at that. I exposed them to as many different activities as I could afford, and then fostered the ones they showed interest in. We laughed a lot (still do) and this has totally saved me many many times. I thought it was really important to teach my children that they are not the center of the universe, and this has led to them growing up to be (mostly) polite and caring young men. And, just for you, Alice, I’ll share with you the secret agreement I made with each of my sons that has served me well: When they were very small – maybe four or five years old – we made a deal. If they didn’t embarrass me in front of my friends, I wouldn’t embarrass them in front of theirs. If they behaved nicely when we were out in public, then I didn’t correct them in front of their friends. Best bargain I ever struck, let me tell you.

Question of Time

2009-06-03T06:42:00.002-04:00

Some of the questions that you asked just begged to be grouped together. Here's one group.

If you could meet anyone in the world, who would it be?
Who would you love to have dinner with?
My birth mother.

If someone called and said that your birth mother was dying and asked you to come to her side and ask her one question, what would it be?
Who is my birth father? I'm kind of sorry about it, and I wish there was another question I could ask - something a little more, uh, sensitive - but that's the answer. If I truly only had time for one question, it would have to be this one. She is the only person on earth who knows the truth. If she never changes her mind about talking to me, the bottom line is, I'll never know.

What one other thing would you want to say to her?
Thank you.

Assume that your fantasies came true and your mom showed up on your doorstep today. You invite her in and offer her a drink. Then you settle in. Assuming that she is open, what are the three most burning questions you would ask her?
If only this scenario would happen! Maybe, by putting it out there in the universe, it will come true. Everybody, concentrate on that part of the question: Let my birth mother contact me, write to me, call me, show up at my house. The more positive thoughts, the better.

Back to the burning questions. Obviously, the first one would have to be 'who's my bio-father?' just because she's the only one who can answer this.

Next, I'd probably have to ask about other children she may have had. One of my heart's biggest desires is to connect with siblings. I've talked about my wish for a sister before, and the want never goes away. Did you have other children, before or after me?

The third question? This one's harder. Sometimes it seems like there are a million things I want to know, but I guess it all boils down to this:

Will you tell me the story?

I want to know about that time in her life. It's probably cheating to ask this question, since there are so many questions within. What was her situation at the time she found herself pregnant? I know she was single, pregnant by a married man, but I want to know more than that. Was she living with her parents anyway, or did she have to move back in with them? Did she have to leave her job? Did she live at St. Andre's Home for a long time, or did she just go there to have the baby? How did she decide to give me up? What was it like to surrender a baby? How did she feel afterward? Did she ever think about me?

The chance to ask her anything is something I dream about. I only pray that day comes, soon. Before it's too late.

All You Ask of Me

2009-06-02T07:24:00.002-04:00

Well, I've separated out the rest of the questions into two categories: "Easy to Answer" and "Holy Cow, I've Never Thought About That Before." Today we will be tackling the easy to answer questions.

What is your favorite color? Why?
Blue has always been my favorite color. I think it harkens back to my dad making a big deal out of my blue eyes. Blue is a happy color - is there anything cheerier than gorgeous blue sky?

What's your favorite smell? Why?
This is harder than it seems like it would be. I like lots of smells - garlic sauteeing, apple pie baking, that fresh dirt smell in spring, fresh laundry, lilacs in bloom. I could go on and on, but there is one smell that stands out: Lagerfeld cologne for men. There is something about that cologne that can make me go all squishy inside. I've been known to follow men around in Macy's just so I can smell them (don't worry, I'm so subtle, they hardly ever notice, and nobody has ever called security on me!). The reason? It goes back to someone I knew a long long time ago, and it's a story for another day.

What's the craziest thing you've ever cooked?
I can't think of a single thing that would qualify as crazy. I stick to some fairly simple fare most of the time (except for some kick-ass desserts). I can turn a couple of boxes of macaroni and cheese into a deluxe mexican feast that will feed 6-8 teenagers - does that count?

What's the strangest thing you've ever eaten?
Alligator balls. Of course, by this I mean small bits of alligator meat FORMED into alligator balls, deep fried and dipped into some delectable horseradish dip. It was very good, but what deep-fried thing isn't?

Have you ever been water skiing?
Sure have - I used to be pretty good when I was a kid. I could start from the water or the dock, do a single turn and jump the wake. Of course, this was over 30 years ago. I bet now I'd make a great America's Funniest Home Video clip.

Have you ever been skydiving?
Nope. I agree with whoever said, "Why would I jump out of a perfectly good airplane?"

What's the longest you have gone without changing your underwear, lol?
I can't remember ever not changing it every day. I'm kinda a stickler on this one.

Thongs, bikini's, or Grannies...
Geez, why is everybody so interested in my underwear? I do not wear thongs. I have spent a lifetime trying to keep my underpants out of there. I do own some Spanx-like undies, which I guess qualify for grannies, but my everyday choice is bikini's.

If you were a ringtone - what song would you be?
I'd have to be a different one daily (maybe hourly), depending on my mood. My current cell phone ring tone is I'm Yours by Jason Mraz, if that says anything.

What is your favorite comfort food and why?
This is easy: CHOCOLATE. The darker the better. With a nice cup of coffee on the side. I feel better just TYPING it.

What's your favorite food to eat...to cook ... and of course why?
My favorite non-chocolate food is lobster, and I'm lucky enough to live where it's affordable. I cook, but my favorite thing to do is bake. I guess I sort of specialize in desserts. There are a few things that I get requests for: Bailey's cake, grasshopper pie, capuccino cheesecake, and the infamous peanut-scotch krisp, and I love to make stuff for people who really enjoy dessert.

Who is one actor you would have a torrid love affair with? BE HONEST, I won't tell.
Pierce Brosnan. I adore him. If he's not available, I'll take Shemar Moore. or Johnny Depp. or Jeffrey Donovan. Actually, I could make you a list...how much time do you have?

What is your favorite guilty pleasure? Bad tv, book, food, whatever.
Has to be reality television. I watch Survivor, The Amazing Race, American Idol, Dancing with the Stars and So You Think You Can Dance. Sometimes I even watch The Bachelor or Project Runway, but I'm real sneaky about it. Thank heaven for the DVR.

If you had $1000. that you had to spend on yourself (no paying bills!) in 1 hour, what would you buy and why?
Easy - a big flat screen HD TV. We have five television sets in this house, but no big-screen HD version. I dream of the day when I can see every rippley muscle of Shemar's in high definition...
If I wasn't allowed to spend it on the household, then it would have to be a trip. I want to take a vacation - a real one - more than anything.

Have you ever tried to find a word that rhymes with orange, or lick your elbow, or tie a cherry stem in a knot with your tongue?
No, No and Yes. I used to get quite a lot of attention back in my college days with that last trick.

What is your ideal number of dogs?
Two.

What would be your perfect night out (think big and you don’t need to keep it local)?
Dinner, theater, hotel (I hate going back to my real life after something really fun.) The ideal city for this evening out would be the Big Apple. Dinner someplace fancy, then a show on Broadway and back to some fancy Manhattan hotel. Glorious!!

Is it wrong for me to fertilize my coffee plant with organic fertilizer made from coffee beans?
I'm going to go with no, it's not wrong. Circle of life and all.

If you could be one celebrity for a week, which one would it be?
Bette Midler. She seems like somebody who knows how to have a good time. And the pipes on her? I'd kill to be able to sing like that. I already have the boobs.

And also the all important marry, screw, kill question. That one is always fun! Your three to choose from are Jay Leno, Conan O'Brien and David Letterman (in honor of all the late show host switching going on lately)
I've never heard this one before, but I'm assuming I have to pick one for each activity? Okay, I guess I'd marry David Letterman, screw Conan O'Brien and kill Jay Leno. Although I have nothing against Jay, I just can't imagine doing either of the other things with him...maybe it's the jaw?

There. I'm exhausted. If anybody is still reading at this point, tune in tomorrow for a shorter list of much harder-to-answer questions!

It's So Easy

2009-06-01T08:54:00.002-04:00

Before I do anything else, I have to say that I am truly impressed. When I said, "ask me a question," I was hoping to get a dozen or so questions I could use to do one post - maybe enough for two posts if I was lucky. You all came up with over a hundred questions!

They were so many amazing, creative, interesting questions, I couldn't imagine how to pick a winner. So I didn't. I called up my dear friend Hallie and asked her to do it. I've judged contests for her before, so it seemed only fair to let her pick. I sent her a document with all the questions, and as I emailed it, I thought to myself, 'gosh, I hope she picks something that I know the answer to...'

No such luck. She happened to pick three questions (so we have first, second and third place winners) and all three of these questions made me have to think. A LOT. ON A WEEKEND.

So congratulations to our winners. If you send me your address (or the address of your designated recipient) I will send out your prizes (5 cards for 1st, 3 for 2nd and 2 for 3rd).

In third place, Staci from Bliss, who asked:
If you had an "Indian"* name, what would it be, and why would you want to have that particular name? (*such as Running Bear, etc.)

I've been thinking about this all weekend. I thought about and discarded some (Naps with Cats, Running Bar Tab, Chasing Pavements, Dances in Underpants) and finally settled on Laughs with Abandon. Maybe even CHIEF Laughs with Abandon. Why? Because this is exactly what I want to do - perhaps what I need to do - to survive this life with my sanity intact.

In second place, Evansmom (she doesn't have a blog, yet...), who asked:
Maria Shriver talks about having commas after her name (i.e. Maria Shriver, Kennedy relative, wife of Arnold, First Lady of California, Author, etc.) What are the commas after your name AND what commas do you want to add in the next 10 years?
Gee, way to make me take stock of my life. After I crawled out of the deep depression this question put me into, I came up with this: My current commas might be something like this: Mother, Friend, Adoptee, Writer, PR Specialist, Cat and Dog Enthusiast, Water Lover and Girl Who Once Rode The Train With Chris Noth. I'm sure I could come up with more, but they would likely be even more pathetic, and who needs that? In the next ten years, I would like to add: World Traveler, Published Author, Reunited with Birth Family, Grandmother, Boat Owner and Girl Who Once Rode the Train with Pierce Brosnan.

And, in First Place, c3 (who doesn't have a blog - at least not as far as I know), who asked:
If you could duplicate in yourself the talent of just one artist, who would it be?
What a great question, but how difficult to answer! I have so much appreciation for talent in many forms. I had a list going on the kitchen table, and it included an eclectic mix of artists I admire: Michelangelo, Beethoven, Freddy Mercury, Henri Matisse, Jackson Pollack, Vivaldi, Norah Jones and Janis Joplin, among others. And I was restricting my list to artists in the painting/sculpture and music areas only. If I had even thought about adding actors and authors to the list? Instant overload!

I thought about it for a long time, and I came up with my choice. I would like to duplicate in myself the talent of Georgia O'Keeffe. O'Keeffe's paintings are beautiful and sometimes haunting, and I'm particularly drawn to her flowers. If I could produce anything even close to that, I'd be thrilled. I can draw stick figures that you might be able to recognize as such. I can kick ass at Pictionary - if I can pick my partners, that is (it's all in how well you know each other.) The ability to draw? Nope. None at all.

The fact that I wish I had some artistic talent is not the only reason I picked O'Keeffe. She is not only my favorite painter, she's someone I have long admired. She was a strong woman who succeeded where many women failed and didn't care what anyone thought about her. She lived a long life and continued to practice her artistry even as she became blind. I'd like a little of that attitude, along with the talent!

There you have it. I will be answering most of the rest of the questions in posts this week, so stay tuned. I promise to be honest, even if it hurts.

Stop the Music!

2009-05-29T03:00:00.002-04:00

Back for more Friday Fragments. You know, Friday is becoming my favorite bloggy day, I think because I can be totally random and it's okay. If you like fragments, check out the original - and still the best - Mrs. 4444 over at Half Past Kissin' Time.

* I’ve caught a few reruns of The Golden Girls lately, and I found them much funnier than I remembered. To my horror, I’ve just realized WHY they seem funnier. It’s because I’m closer to their ages now than I was when they were on originally. Suddenly all those jokes about hot flashes, mammograms and memory loss? Sadly, much more relevant.

* I spend a fair amount of time with some friends of mine who are a tad advanced in age (she’s 72, he’s 82). I've sort of adopted them (I know! ironic, isn't it?) and I help out with rides to the doctor and computer assistance and such. They’ll be the first to admit that their memories are slipping a bit. They joke about ‘playing my favorite game’ which is when they try to remember the name of some movie, or actor, or the words to some song, and they describe it until I blurt it out. It goes something like this: Joe: That actor, what was his name – he was in that movie that Marlon Brando was so famous for, and he was also in that movie about the jurors with Henry Fonda. Me: Lee J. Cobb! He was in On the Waterfront with Marlon Brando and 12 Angry Men with Henry Fonda! I totally love that game. I hope, when I get to the point that I’m playing on the other side, that I have somebody to play with.

* I have a pile of questions to look at over the weekend from my contest (still open through midnight tonight). If ever there was a good example of the saying ‘be careful what you wish for’ this is definitely it. There are some pretty impressive questions there. It’s going to be hard to pick a winner, and even harder to answer them. Who the heck thought that this contest was a good idea, anyway?

* If anybody knows the person who wrote the music that plays in the background of video games, could you give me their address? I want to go and kick their ass. I just spent an hour trying to work on my computer while the world’s most annoying music played continuously in the background. If I wasn’t such a nice mommy, I would have drop-kicked the game system right through the TV. I hate it when everybody is playing nicely – then I have no excuse to turn the damn thing off.

* Do you ever have that experience when somebody shuts off the radio/CD player/TV/Video Game and you realize that you have been clenching every muscle in your body because the noise has made you insane? Maybe it's just me.

Don't Stop

2009-05-28T09:28:00.003-04:00

My contest is still going on - until Friday, with winner(s) announced on Monday. I'm loving the questions - but don't stop now! You can enter as many times as you like, and I know you have more in you. Bloggers are a curious bunch - isn't that partly why we're here?

Pretend you're Barbara Walters. What would you ask if you finally got that interview with the celebrity you've always wanted to meet? Of course, this would assume that you could get your head around pretending that you're Barbara, and, even harder, that I'm the celebrity in this scenario. Come to think of it, never mind. That's not going to work.

Whatever it takes, don't give up now. I know the world's most interesting question is out there somewhere, and I'm counting on you to pose it. Contest rules are posted here.

What Have You Done For Me Lately?

2009-05-26T22:33:00.005-04:00

Despite being home alone for much of the holiday weekend, I managed to keep myself out of trouble. I got a lot done at home, and even had some fun by myself. On Saturday, I stamped. I make cards - birthday cards, get well cards, sympathy cards - all kinds of cards, using rubber stamps and assorted supplies. I love doing it, I think because it makes me feel all creative and artistic, even though I can barely draw stick figures.

I made 20 cards on Saturday, which is a new record for me. Here's what they look like:

Here's a close up of a couple of them:

So, since I have all these cards, and I'm dying to get rid of some of them, I thought I'd hold a contest and give some to the lucky winner. But - what kind of contest should I have? I like to have contests that benefit me, even if it's only to amuse myself. Also, I'm always looking for material to blog about, so maybe the contest requirements should address this issue. After much consideration, I've come up with this:

Mary Ellen's Blogtastic Contest For May

The Rules: Ask me something. Leave me a comment with a question in it. Go ahead, ask me something wild. You don't scare me (well, maybe a little). Maybe you're dying to know what my favorite book/movie/TV show is. Maybe you want to know about something to do with my adoption and search for my birthparents. Perhaps you'd like to know what kind of an animal I'd be or why I'm obsessed with serial killers, polygamists and the Sham Wow Guy.

The best question wins. Enter as many times as you like, through Friday. If there are tons of awesome questions, and I can't choose just one, I'll put the names in a hat and pick one that way. Or I'll give out a couple of packets of cards. Whatever. Hopefully, some or all of the questions will become part of a future post. I will probably answer them all eventually, unless somebody asks me something too personal, like what size underwear I wear or something, in which case I'll just ignore it. I mean, nobody needs to know that, right? There's something to be said for maintaining a little mystery.

Winner will receive a packet of lovely homemade cards. If you're not into cards or homemade stuff (Hallie!) please enter anyway, and if you win, you can designate another recipient for the prize. After all, this contest is about saving me from having to think up stuff to write about - um, no - what I meant was that it's all about having fun. Oh, and Andy? They're really colorful.

So there it is. I know my brilliant readers will come up with something. After all, I'm always saying that my commenters are infinitely wittier than I ever am. Now's your chance to prove it.

Memorial Day

2009-05-25T07:39:00.005-04:00

As we remember those who made the ultimate sacrifice defending our freedoms, I find myself thinking about my dad. It seems odd to even imagine that he once wore a uniform, because it was so far removed from my experience with him, and he never talked about it. He served in the military - two different branches - near the end of World War II, but only for a couple of years or less. From what I could piece together, he left high school and enlisted in the Civil Air Patrol when he was 17. Perhaps after he turned 18, he transferred to the Navy, and trained as a submarine radio operator. After he had passed away, I found a battered, blue leather folder among some of his papers, and it provided me with a fascinating look into his life during that time.

This is a picture of the contents of the leather binder. The papers are so yellowed and thin, I hardly dare to unfold them. One letter, upper left, verifies that my father enlisted in the Civil Air Patrol Cadets, an auxiliary of the Army Air Force, in early 1944. It says that he "served under the Squadron capably and with outstanding ability and initiative." I think this was my father's recommendation letter that got him transferred from the Air Patrol and into the Navy.

My dad's buddies. Unfortunately, I can't pick him out of this photo - unless he's the one crouched down on the left and a shadow obscures his features. Still, I get a sense of the camaraderie of the soldiers. How young they all seem. In this packet of papers, there's also a photo of my dad's best friend at the time, signed "Good Luck. Ed."

There were four blank postcards, all the same. The wording at the top of the picture reads "Signal Practice and Instruction," and at the bottom, "U.S. Naval Training Center, Sampson, N.Y." This is where my dad attended boot camp, and he must have gotten a stack of postcards to send to his loved ones.

This letter, from the U.S. Navy Recruiting Station, Madison Ave., New York, New York, contains his orders to active duty, dated 7 November 1944. It contains these instructions:

1. You are hereby ordered to report to the U.S. Navy Official at the Pennsylvania Station on Eighth Ave. New York, New York at 9:00 P.M. Thursday night, November 16, 1944 for active duty and transfer to a Naval Training Center. You will report to the U.S. Navy Official at the incoming train board between tracks #5 and #17.

2. When you report you are advised to bring only $6.00 in cash and toilet articles. Do not bring extra clothing other than what you will wear.

3. No provisions have been made for relatives and friends at the railroad station. Say goodbye to them at home and report to the station alone.

This is a valentine, colored with crayons, that my dad received during boot camp from his little sister Marlena. Her girlish cursive signature is on the back. She must have been less than ten years old at that time.

This is part of a letter, scrawled on the back of an envelope. The envelope was mailed to my father on February 10, 1945, and was sent by my mother, who was at that time his girlfriend - probably containing a valentine card. The letter on the back is in my dad's cursive handwriting, and is not complete. I remember my mother telling me that when my dad was 'courting' her, that he used to write drafts of letters, so that the finished product would be perfect. She told me that, over the years, she had accidently come across several of my dad's drafts and cherished them even more than the resulting letters and cards.

This one reads, "I hope you will forgive me for not writing to you as I had promised time and time again, but it will be different from now on. I think you know I took my boot training in Sampson from the card I sent you. Boy! That is just one big period of concentration. The only way I got a leave during the ten weeks was to graduate from high school on January 19. I had four days then and my boot leave came up the next week, so you can imagine how swell it was for me to be on the loose once more. My only regret about it all was that I didn't see you during that time..."

My dad's career came to a halt when it was discovered that he had a loss of hearing in one ear (something he had for the rest of his life) and he was honorably discharged. I guess you can't work as a radio operator with only one good working ear. World War II was over at that point, and my dad re-entered civilian life, married my mom, and the rest, as they say, is history. I am grateful to him, along with the countless others, who bravely served, protecting my right to live freely in this great country of ours.

If You Know What I Mean (and a CONTEST)

2009-05-22T03:00:00.000-04:00

Welcome to my weekly Friday Fragments post, which is made up of a bunch of random thoughts, too short (or too silly) for their own post, all dumped here together. I do this along with a bunch of fun people, led by Mrs. 4444 at Half Past Kissin’ Time. Go check them out. AFTER you read mine, obviously.

* All that talk about concussion reminded me of one of my greatest fears: that I will lose my mind. Now, before you all speak at once, I know what you’re thinking. I HAVE lost my mind, clearly. And you’re right. But I mean in that ‘getting older, starting to slip’ kind of way. I don’t care how badly my body fails me as I get older, I just want to hang on to my mental faculties. To this end, I do a bunch of things. I do crossword puzzles. And jigsaw puzzles. And Sudoku. I read voraciously. I have a program, called Brain Evolution, loaded to my hand-held computer. It has many different games, all designed specifically to sharpen my brain function, with benchmarks for me to measure my progress, and I do them just about every day. Senility is going to have to fight for me.

* I’ve been having trouble loading some of my favorite blogs. When I click on them, whether it’s through my reader, or directly, I get an error message (Internet Explorer cannot load this page) and it disappears. If I usually comment on your blog, and you haven’t seen me in a few days, this might be why. I have no idea why this is happening, or how to fix it, but I will keep trying.

* I was lucky enough to meet another fabulous friend from Blog Land. Sue, from As Cape Cod Turns, happened to be in Maine, and Hallie and I met up with her, and her friend Becki for a quick visit. She was just as fun as I thought she’d be, and we had a great chat. It’s so cool how you meet someone through this crazy blog thing, and then, in person, they’re just like old friends.

* My girlfriend Jonel (who comments as Evansmom) left me a comment back when I was talking about how Alex doesn’t allow me to run out onto the field acting all mommy-ish when he gets hurt. Her story was just priceless, so, for those who missed it, here’s what she said: “Evan got hit by a baseball several years ago when he was about nine. I was not paying attention and didn't realize he was up to bat when I heard this very loud thunk and looked up to see my one and only son sprawled over home plate. It was so loud that everyone watching gasped and cringed in sympathy. I wanted to jump the fence and run to him but, instead, I slowly walked to the area where he was while chanting to myself "do not run, do not embarrass him, do not run". He was OK and continued in the game. I did call out to first base "OK?" and got a thumbs up. After the game, I was feeling quite proud of myself and my restraint. What did my son say? "MOM! Where were you? The coach kept saying - just hold on, your Mom will be here any minute." Sigh, you just can't win.”

* TIME FOR A CONTEST!!!!! Yay! Only not here on my blog. My friend Andy (Andrew Scott Turner, a writer and one of the wittiest people I know), whose blog is titled A Long Patience, has reached 100 posts. Congrats!!! Anyway, he’s having a contest, so go check it out here and congratulate him on reaching this milestone. Right after you leave me a comment, that is.

Out of My Head

2009-05-21T06:51:00.003-04:00

Ah, Lacrosse. The thrills. The chills. The Heart Thumping. The concussion.

Last Friday, at Alex’s game, he was hit in the head – twice – by a person. Hard. Evidently it was bad enough to knock him down, and, the second time, enough to make him feel dizzy. Luckily for everybody, I wasn’t at that game. It was at the farthest school in their lacrosse district, and over an hour and a half away, so I didn’t go. He was also leaving from the game with a friend’s parents to spend the weekend, so a lot of this stuff I didn’t find out until much later.

Anyway, they took Alex out of the game, and administered a ‘field concussion test.’ I may have mentioned before that there is a medic at every lacrosse game (that should be the first clue that lacrosse = bloodsport). This field concussion test consisted of 40 questions, designed to see if his brain was scrambled. He told me a little bit of what they asked him, including the fact that he had to walk a straight line, close his eyes and stand on one foot, and count backward from 100 by threes. It sounded to me like the field SOBRIETY test the police administer when they stop you for suspected drunk driving. Not that I know from first hand experience, of course. I’ve seen it on COPS.

Evidently, he passed, because they let him play the rest of the game. Later that weekend, at his friend’s house, he walked into a tree branch and hit his head, and it made him feel dizzy again. Of course, nobody called me. I mean, why would I want to know? I’m only his mother. When Alex got home on Sunday, he did tell me about the head hits and the concussion test, but said he felt fine.

On Tuesday, I got a call from the school clinic saying that Alex was in with a headache he said he’d had for several days, and they were checking him for a concussion. I was all “but they already checked” and they were all “well, he could still have one because those lacrosse medics really don’t know what they’re doing.” Way to make me feel better.

This new test involved something called Head Minder, which all of the athletes are supposed to take BEFORE they start the season. It tests their cognitive function (or dysfunction), short term memory, reflexes and reaction time. It is done on a computer, and consists of stuff like this:

Soon, you will see a series of pictures. Some are from the series you saw a few minutes ago, while some are new. When you see a picture that you recognize from a few moments ago, press the space bar. If you see a picture that you have not seen before, then do nothing. Try to be fast without making mistakes. You are being timed on how fast you are.

Shortly, you will see a series of pictures. Press the space bar every time you see a picture except if it is of an animal. Press the spacebar as fast as you can. You are being timed. Remember, press the space bar every time you see a picture except if it is an animal.

Since my child did NOT take this test before hand (Alex says his coach was supposed to make him an appointment, but didn’t) they had him take it, then wait one day, and take it again. Evidently this would show that, if his brain was scrambled, at least it wasn’t getting any worse.

So here we are on Thursday, and he’s been cleared to return to battle – er, lacrosse. Apparently his brain isn’t deteriorating – a fact I find SO comforting. It's too late to find out how much it has already degenerated, which may or may not be a good thing. He has another away game tomorrow night.

I’ll be making the drive.

Comin' Around

2009-05-19T10:03:00.003-04:00

Have you ever noticed a certain phenomenon that happens whenever you run out to the store for an emergency ingredient, or something your kid needs for school, and you haven't showered yet, or you're wearing your 'I'm doing laundry' outfit? You know the scenario, I'm sure. You look like something the cat dragged in, and you're jogging around the store, trying to grab whatever you need in a hurry so you can slink back to your car before anybody sees you? What always happens? Right. You run into someone you know.

Of course, who you run into can make a big difference in whether this is a small embarrassment or a giant disaster. If I run into one of my friends when I'm looking less than stellar, I can smile and shrug my shoulders and say something charming (I'm very charming when I look like crap. Ask anybody.) and it's no big deal. After all, they've seen me lots of times when I look gorgeous. Well, maybe not gorgeous. Okay, they've at least seen me lots of times when I've been showered and neatly dressed, so they know this little incident is just an aberration. I always give them that special smile that says, "I'm just about to head out for my spa treatment and they don't like you to shower first..."

Anyway, recently, I was on just such an mission: grab a can of diced tomatoes that I desperately needed, and I ran into someone. Unfortunately, it wasn't one of my understanding friends. It was someone I hadn't seen in several years - a guy I worked with a long, long time ago. And he was THRILLED to see me, or so he said, and wanted to catch up on YEARS of separation, right there in the canned vegetables and soup aisle. I did the best I could to be friendly, and chatted for quite a while before making my excuses and dashing out of there. As I was driving away, I remembered something about this guy that made me chuckle. All. Day. Long. And I thought I'd share it with you.

Many moons ago, I worked for a newspaper. I worked there a long time (12 years) and loved it. My career there began in the classified ad section. For this story it is important that you know a little bit about the layout of the place. There were four of us, in a rectangular formation, each with a desk and a guest chair that sat at one side. All of this was in a giant open room that included all the rest of the advertising department. At the opposite wall from our classified section was a hallway that contained the women's restrooms. Then there was a complicated series of hallways that led to the other areas of the newspaper, including composing, stripping, editorial, the business office and, just before the pressroom, the men's restrooms. We took classified ads by phone mostly, with a few walk-ins, and worked on large display ads in our spare time. There were three of us that had been there a long time, but the fourth spot seemed to be made up of perpetually new people. Us long-timers were a pretty fun-loving bunch, with a healthy sense of humor that not everybody enjoyed. We may have been guilty of playing the occasional light-hearted prank on our co-workers, and that's what this is about.

There were certain customers who were required to pre-pay their ads, rather than being billed. It probably had something to do with a once-overdue bill or whatever. So these customers would call in their ad, get the price from us, and then stop by with a payment so that the ad would run. One of these customers, who frequently ran ads, was a man who dressed as a woman. He was a very nice guy, and I don't know anything about what his story was, but he was very clearly a man with a 5 o'clock shadow and a giant adam's apple, but used a woman's name and wore lovely summer dresses and heels. Come to think of it, he would never have been caught in WalMart unshowered with nasty sweatpants on like I was.

Anyway, our newest classified ad guy was a model employee - really, he was just a model citizen, very proper and straight-laced, and a bit uptight, so of course we wanted to harass the heck out of him. One day, our man-dressed-as-a-woman (let's call her Nicole) called to place her ad with me. She told me she'd be in to pay in an hour, which gave us just enough time to plot. We decided that the rest of us would make sure we were unavailable to help Nicole when she came in, so that our new friend (let's call him Sam) would have to do it. Our expectations were low - we just thought his expression upon realizing Nicole was a guy would be fun to watch. (and yes, I know I'm probably going to hell for this, among other things. I was young. That's my whole excuse).

Nicole came in and we made ourselves scarce, so Sam offered to help her. We, of course, were watching to see his face, and we weren't disappointed. Sam was about halfway through writing out her receipt when he looked her right in the face and the light dawned. And it was pretty funny, but it got so much better. After she had her receipt, she asked Sam where the restroom was. Sam, thinking that he was giving directions to the men's room, said, "oh, it's really complicated, you'll never find it. I'll take you," and stood up. He took about two steps, realized she probably wanted the women's room, stopped, pointed, said "It's right there." I just about lost it and had to run for the main lobby before collapsing in screams of laughter.

Forever after that, if anybody ever said anything about going to the ladies' room, we always made sure to say something like, "do you need directions? It's really hard to find." Poor, dear Sam. He was a pretty good egg, really, because he didn't hold a grudge. Of course, so many years later, after I fled WalMart, he was probably making fun of me to his wife, "Did you see what she was wearing? And that hair? Dreadful!" I don't blame him one bit. Karma's a bitch.

Rambling Rose

2009-05-15T03:00:00.000-04:00

Time for more random stuff. Friday Fragments are presented in conjunction with the fabulous Mrs. 4444 over at Half Past Kissin' Time. Check her out - she's one of a kind!

* I had the opportunity to attend a high school production of The Music Man this week. Two of the sons of my friend were in it, and I was excited to see them perform. I knew they’d be good, but what I wasn’t expecting was how well done the entire performance was. The voices were excellent, the sets amazing, and the dance numbers were spectacular. I think they must be growing kids more talented these days.

* I clocked 15 miles on the old treadmill this week – a new record. The best part was that, while I was walking, I cleaned a lot of stuff off my DVR. I record a lot of TV – I like a lot of shows, and I’ve come to the point where I can’t bear to watch anything while it’s actually on. I hate waiting for commercials. If I record everything, I can zip through an hour show in a little over 40 minutes. Much more efficient, and it helps distract me from the boringness of the treadmill. The only problem is that I have to play everything on such high volume (because of the treadmill noise) that I drive everybody else in the house crazy.

* Am I the only one with a cat that constantly vomits? One of my cats is always throwing up. It totally infuriates me. Especially since she then goes immediately back to the food dish. Arghh. I’ve had to add a step to my morning routine: checking the house for cat puke. A lovely way to start my day, don’t you think?

* The play is coming along well. It's amazing how the characters are taking shape. The best part of the whole thing is the fact that, for a few hours during each rehearsal, all my problems are forgotten. It's impossible to concentrate on what's bothering you when people are performing. Add that to the fact that I get to spend time with some people I really like to spend time with, and it's a win-win. Everybody should get involved with theater. It's therapeutic. Kinda like blogging.

* I am going through a “I hate cooking” phase. My oven is not working, and it looks like I might have to replace the whole appliance. I’m going to have to save for a while to make that happen, so, in the meantime, I have to cook on the stovetop only. The burners all work fine. The problem is that I am sick to death of making everything I know how to cook on the stovetop. We have some stir fry creation just about every other day, with a spaghetti night and a crockpot night thrown in. If I never see another chicken/vegetables/rice stir fry for the rest of my life, I won’t care. Anybody have any suggestions?

Hello, Old Friends

2009-05-14T03:00:00.000-04:00

I think one of the best things about old friends is the fact that they're pretty much immune to anything ridiculous that you might do. If they've been around for a long time, it's likely that they've seen you at your best and your worst, at high points and low points, in sickness and in health, in beautiful and in ugly. After so many years, it would be difficult for you to really repel them with a bad outfit, clownish make-up, or scary hairstyle.

In light of that, I present to you a tribute to old friends. In pictures. Brace yourself - it ain't pretty.

This is a picture of me, my friends Jonel and Lisha, and my cousin's baby. It was taken during the "Great Road Trip of Senior Year" over spring break. Jonel and I were obviously embracing the whole 80's hair thing. If only you could see my outfit in its entirety. Oh, wait - you can!

In the name of all that is holy, why didn't someone tell me I looked like this? Obviously I didn't own a mirror at the time. High-waisted was never a good look for me. And my homemade, red and white checkered, gapping in all the wrong places, snaps-instead-of-buttons shirt? How was it that I had any friends at all? Really.

The one wedding that Jonel and I were in together. Lovely, weren't we? Sometime I'll have to post the whole story about these dresses. I'd tell it now, but it involves some things I'm not sure I am willing to talk about on my blog. Like boobs. And liquor. Lots and lots of liquor. Jonel, I love you even more because we have shared such priceless experiences.

These were some of my dorm-mates. We were having a party - the theme was something to do with a saloon - and some of the more artistically talented gals had drawn an old-time western bar on paper we tacked up to the wall. It was my bright idea to have some of them lean on the pretend bar. Doesn't it look authentic? My beloved roommate is the one on the left, but boy, do I wish I could remember the name of the one on the right. She might have been an extra in Olivia Newton John's 'Let's Get Physical' video.

Judy and I, sitting on my bed in our dorm room - which we shared for FOUR YEARS. I don't know anyone else who lived with their original roommate the whole 4 years of school. The fact that we are still friends today is a miracle, as far as I'm concerned, especially since we only met the day we moved into the dorm. There's so much to talk about in this picture I hardly know where to start. See the fab afghan my mother made? And my knitting was behind me, right next to a - ugh, I don't know if I can even say it - stuffed unicorn. And, heaven help me, there are more stuffed animals (the panda was hers, the polar bear mine). And why does she look so pretty, while I look like I'd been on a four day bender? Obviously I hadn't learned about the importance of mousse and mascara.

These two girls (and yes, I still think of us as girls) are so precious to me. Some of my happiest moments were spent with one or both of them, and I really believe we will never run out of things to say to each other. I laugh more with them than I do with anyone else in my life, and, especially now, that's exactly what I need.

Born to Run

2009-05-12T22:04:00.004-04:00

I don't have much to say today, so I thought I'd share some photos from Alex's new favorite way to cause me to have a heart attack. This is the exciting sport of lacrosse - a word which means: man-invented excuse to whack other people with sticks.

This is the face-off - or whatever you call it - at the beginning of the game. Weirdest position in which to begin a game I've ever seen. Alex is on the left, in green shorts and white jersey.

Alex is number 15 - see his cute ponytail? One of the other lacrosse mothers (who doesn't know me) said "That number 15 needs a hair cut!" I just laughed. She's welcome to her opinion.

See? Whacking each other with sticks. That's what the whole game is all about.

One of the things I don't like about this game is that you can't see his handsome face. Although, I do appreciate the helmet protection. He gets hit in the head about 10 times per game.

Why is there only one of him and about a million of them? I don't care if a bunch of them ARE standing on the sidelines. Still - where are the rest of the Vikings?

His position is called Midi - which covers the whole field. They always put him in this spot, usually center midi, because he runs. He's the fastest sprinter on the team. Now, if he can learn to hang onto the ball when he's running...

Such a physical game. It really does give me heart palpitations. Every time he leaves the field, I realize I've been holding my breath and clenching all my stomach muscles.

My favorite play of the game - Alex steals the ball and runs it all the way into the offensive zone. That's my boy.

To My Two Mothers

2009-05-10T10:19:00.001-04:00

This Mother’s Day feels a little different to me than those that have come before. For the first 40 years of my life, I had a mom to honor on this day. My gifts to her in my early years ranged from macaroni art and painted clay jewelry boxes to coupons for ‘free from whining’ chores. I’m proud to say that I matured and that my gifts improved over the years. The last few years of her life (those spent in the nursing home), her favorite gift was a visit from her grandsons on this day. Since she’s been gone, I make the 1 ½ hour drive to her grave sometime between Mother’s Day and Memorial Day, just to make sure it looks tidy and has some nice flowers. I’m not one of those people who can feel the presence of their loved one at the grave, but I know my mom would want it to look presentable, and that’s why I do it.

Anyway, this year, for the first time, I have another mother to consider. I mean, I have always known that I had a birth mother out there somewhere, and I’ve thought about her, especially on days like Mother’s Day and my birthday, but she was just an idea in my head. Now, she’s real. I know her name and her address. I’ve seen her picture. I had hoped to meet her by now, but that doesn’t seem to be in the cards, at least not now. So, since I have no one to honor in person this year, I offer this letter to my two mothers.

To My Mom: I want to thank you for the faith that brought you to St. Andre’s so many years ago, trusting that God had chosen you to be my mother. Thanks for teaching me that family is about love and not about blood. Thank you for celebrating not only my birthday, but the day you adopted me – and for telling me it was because on that day, you felt joy because your family was complete. Thanks for all the other things you taught me, about the value of being a lifelong learner, about music, and doing the right thing. Thank you for raising me in a home filled with love and laughter. I love you and miss you more than I can say.

To My Birthmother: Thank you for choosing life. Thank you for nurturing me within your body, especially during what must have been a very complicated time for you. Thank you for finding your way to St. Andre’s, and for making what must have been an incredibly difficult choice to give me a chance at a better life. Whatever your reasons for surrendering me, it was the first step that helped me find my way to my forever family. Whether or not you ever decide to meet me, I will always be grateful to you for my life.

Happy Mother’s Day to both of you.

With all my love,

Mary Ellen/ Marjorie

Just My Imagination

2009-05-08T03:00:00.001-04:00

We’re back to our regular presentation of Friday Fragments – a random collection of things that occur to me during the week, too insignificant for their own post, but gathered here nonetheless. I join the great folks at Half Past Kissin’ Time in this endeavor.

* Thanks to those who expressed concern for Alex, who got hurt in his lacrosse game on Tuesday. It turns out it was merely a large contusion (which is big doctor talk for bruise, I think) on his hip. Unfortunately, it was located in the place where all your leg muscles originate, so moving was very painful for a couple of days. He’s feeling a bit better, and plans to participate in the game on Friday. Me? I’m planning to take tranquilizers.

* After my ill-fated experience with elastic and underwire on Tuesday, I was motivated to actually throw away the offending underwear. Of course, the minute I tossed it, I started worrying about what I was going to do the next time I’m behind on laundry.

* Why is it that the lawn goes from brown and dead to lush, foot-tall greenery in the blink of an eye? I think the major problem is that it’s been raining every day, which makes the lawn grow, but we can’t mow in the rain. By the time it stops raining, I may need to employ a hay combine.

* You know how they play sad music during the touching parts of a movie? I always wonder if it would still be sad if they played happy music? Picture it – the character is lying on his deathbed, and in the background you hear “Wake Me Up Before You Go Go” or “I’m so excited, and I just can’t hide it….” Personally, I think it would change the whole mood.

* Some of you know that I’m fascinated with true crime. I read books about it, watch documentaries about it – it’s kinda sick, I know, but I can’t help it. What you may not know is that I am equally fascinated by polygamy. I’ve read several books on the subject – mostly written by women who escaped the horrible existence in which they were living. The whole idea of this entire culture, complete with the brainwashing that accompanies it, is just mesmerizing to me. I can’t help but admire these women who overcome almost insurmountable odds to free themselves and their children. Their stories really are a testament to their strength and faith. The one I’m reading now is called ‘Daughter of the Saints.’

* I sent my birthmother a Mother’s Day card. I debated it (mentally) for a couple of weeks, but finally, I just did it. I picked out a simple, basic card – hope your day is pleasant, that kind of thing – and sent it, with no note, just my signature. Again, as I do so often lately, I regretted it almost immediately. I don’t want to pressure her unfairly, and I have sent her two letters already. Obviously, since she hasn’t responded, she’s just not ready, and may never be. I am determined not to become a stalker. It’s just that I haven’t had anyone to send a mother’s day card to for almost 10 years. And I wanted to acknowledge her on this first Mother's Day since I found out who she is. Regardless of how she feels about me, I’m grateful to her. See how I can rationalize anything? One of my many talents.

Help Me

2009-05-07T08:27:00.002-04:00

For quite a while, I've been trying to figure out how to put a list of old blog posts on my sidebar. I wanted to link back to some of my earliest posts, so that if someone happened to stop in, and wondered what the heck I'm about, they could go back and read.

Today, I finally managed to get a list up. It's on the left, at the top, in three categories (Let me introduce myself; My search; My parents). I was very proud of myself, and celebrated with a dash of Bailey's in my coffee. (I know it's early. Don't judge me. I'm having a rough week.)

The problem is that I think the color of the things in the list is too light. On my computer, you can hardly see them. I can figure out how to change the color of almost everything else, but not the stuff on the list. Is that what it looks like to you??

Lucky for me, there are people who know so much more about Blogger than I do. Heck, most everybody knows more about it than I do. Please - somebody - how can I fix this?

Wild One

2009-05-05T22:25:00.003-04:00

I hate it when stuff gets in the way of blogging. I've come to really treasure my blog time - both writing and reading. When I can't get to it for a few days, I find myself wondering how my favorite folks are doing. Unfortunately, sometimes life does not cooperate with my blogging needs. I've had a busy, hectic, kinda lousy couple of days, and it has kept me away from my online addiction.

I thought I might try listing some of the things that are currently bugging the crap out of me. Maybe if I vent a little, my blood pressure will return to normal....

1. Lacrosse sucks. It is an exceedingly violent game, with rules that are completely mysterious. Basically, it seems to be about one kid running frantically with the ball, while all the other kids whack at him furiously with sticks. Sometimes, for no apparent reason, the whacking results in penalties, but most of the time it's permitted. And, sometimes, one kid will have the ball, and nobody else is even near him, and the referees will blow the whistle and give the ball to the other team. Uh, dude, what? And did I mention that it is a violent game? With exceptionally inadequate padding?

2. On that same subject, it is a mother's nightmare when, during the nasty lacrosse game, her child gets hurt and she is not allowed to inquire about his well-being. At our home games, the parents sit on one side of the giant lacrosse field, and the teams and coaches are on the other side. When a player gets hurt, they help or carry him off the field over to the coaches area, where they tend to him. The parent gets to freak out all by themselves, with no way to communicate with their child, the medic, or anybody else that knows what's going on. Of course, I suppose I could screech, "My BABY!" and run across the field, but then my child would hate me forever. I think I've already given him enough to talk to his future psychiatrist about.

3. I hate that Alex has no padding on his bones. He got hurt, in case you didn't catch that, at the game yesterday. He got hit so hard he did a flip and then skidded about 10 feet in the wet grass. His injury is on his hip bone, which of course sticks out and has no natural padding. I should play lacrosse - my hip bones are so well protected, I'd never have felt it at all. We have to wait and see how it goes, but he's planning to play this vicious game again tomorrow, assuming he can walk. I'm thrilled.

4. I hate it when I make a bad underwear choice. Does that ever happen to you? You're in a hurry, not even all the way dry from your shower, and you grab the first undies you find? Those with the too-tight elastic, or the uncomfortable underwire? It always seems okay at first, but as the day wears on, it's practically the only thing you can think about? That was me - squeezed and poked and chafed all day. Not the best thing for my overall mood, let me tell you.

5. I hate talking - or trying to talk to - anyone that works for the state. You're trying to get a little basic information, and it should be a simple thing. But then the state gets involved with their "press one for this" and "press star, pound, star and then spell the name..." What ever happened to human beings answering the phone? Is that old fashioned? Maybe it's me that's out of touch.

6. Speaking of old-fashioned, I remember taking the SAT's many, many years ago. It seems to me it was a three-hour thing, which we signed up for at a place and time convenient to us. Well, evidently that's not the way it's done now. Alex had to go to school on Saturday. SATURDAY. At SEVEN FREAKING O'CLOCK in the morning. It was mandatory for all Juniors to attend, and it lasted until 2 in the afternoon. It turned out to be a half-hour longer than a normal school day. Alex was NOT in a good mood, and frankly, I don't blame him. The whole thing required us to rearrange our whole lives, including his brother's birthday party. Arghhh.

You know, I think all of this stuff wouldn't bother me so much if I wasn't so stressed out about other things - my life is a bit unsettled at the moment, and I'm spending a fair amount of time worrying, which affects my health, both mentally and physically. I'm also not sleeping as I should. Maybe I should drink more. Is it too late to make a new year's resolution?

Day Like Today

2009-05-01T03:00:00.000-04:00

Thank you to everyone who entered my 100th post contest. I really enjoyed reading your ideas on the great inventions, and I continue to be astounded at the wittiness of the people who read my blog. I'm happy to announce that the winner, chosen by a random number generator, is Jojo from My Random Insanities. Jojo, if you will email me your address (blissfulbaritone at yahoo dot com) I will send your fabulous prize! I had so much fun with this contest, maybe I'll do one every month. I bet I can think up some totally wild subjects for you all to comment on...

We interrupt the regularly scheduled Friday Fragments post to allow for a special presentation. Today is my oldest son's birthday, and I couldn't resist the chance to talk about him a bit. Twenty-two years ago today I was in labor - induced labor - with Brandon, and I remember it vividly. It was a mixture of emotions, ranging from excitement to frustration to terror. When the decision was made to perform an emergency C-section, I remember saying a prayer, just as they put me under, for God to please just let my baby be all right, and I can remember meeting him, several hours later, and thinking he was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.

Brandon, you have been a treasure and a blessing to me every day for the last 22 years, and I want to take this opportunity to tell you some of the things I love about you.

Thanks for being such an easy baby. I had no idea what I was doing, and you made a great 'starter kid.' Sorry about that time I dropped you - in my defense, I had no idea that the nylon baby bag thing you were wearing would be so slippery in my nylon parka-clad arms.

You've always been a chick magnet. You probably don't remember this, but right after this picture was taken, you tried to kiss this little girl and she slugged you. Timing is everything. Luckily, you seem to have gotten it right with Sandy, and I am glad to see that you treat each other with respect and caring.

You never seemed to mind that your earliest playmates were puppies.

All the dogs always loved you, and you loved them right back. You were (and are) the best puppy socializer I've ever known.

Whenever we have had a litter of puppies, you always wanted to be the first one to hold them, and I never had to tell you to be careful or gentle. You just knew.

This photo, of you and Cinder, was taken during a 'negotiation' in which you tried to convince your father and I that you should be allowed to stay home from school because one of our dogs was going to give birth, and you didn't want to miss it. As it turned out, she waited one more day (until Saturday) and you didn't have to miss anything.

I love that you are the kind of person who loves the outdoors. This is one of my favorite pictures of you, happy with just a couple of sticks to play with. The expression on your face is one I still see on your face every year when you go back to work at the camp.

I only took this picture so that I would have something embarrassing to pull out and show your girlfriends some day. Yes, that is a fuzzy ducky jacket you are wearing.

You are the best big brother any kid could ever want. Thank you for being a great playmate, protector and friend to my other favorite son. I hope you and Alex remain close always.

Thanks for never going through that miserable, sullen teenage thing, and for never acting embarassed to be seen with me. I admire your appreciation of the absurdities of life and your ability to find humor in the simplest things. You're kind of twisted. I love that.

I love that you dress up as a pirate to entertain the kids at camp. You rock. Even though it took me about a million hours to make you this pirate coat, it was worth it.

One of the best times I've ever had was the trip you and I took to Washington, D.C. We had such an awesome time - even the long drive was fun, listening to Ipod music and singing along. The highlights for me were seeing you visit the monuments and museums for the first time, swimming in the rooftop pool at night, The Spy Museum (remember those cool sunglasses?) and of course The National Zoo, where this photo was taken. 9 glorious days I'll never forget.

Brandon, I'm incredibly proud of you - of the man you've grown up to be. Being your mom has made me a better, happier person. Thanks for changing my life in such a profound way. I love you.

It's Not Too Late

2009-04-30T11:02:00.002-04:00

There's still time to enter my 100 post celebratory contest. I will be picking a winner tomorrow morning, so go ahead and enter - as many times as you like! If you need to review the rules, check the previous post for details. If you have time, go check out all the awesome comments. You people are so funny!

I was complaining recently about my 'spring cleaning' muscles, but I should have waited. It turns out that was only the beginning. I have started exercising again - something that is so long overdue, I almost don't remember how. I am walking at least 3 miles every day (outside if possible, or the treadmill if necessary) and doing some other form of exercise (I have a bunch of tapes and DVD's) each day as well.

Before any of you go and say anything supportive (do I know you people, or what?) I want to be clear that I only started this on Monday. Today is day 4 - a little early to be all impressed. I also need to confess that I am not all happy and cheerful about it. I whine and bitch about it the whole freaking time (although it's mostly whining in my own head, because I'm so out of breath I can't whine out loud).

But I have no choice. I am so out of shape I can't stand it another minute. I'm not going to be able to enjoy this gorgeous weather we're having if I can't move around and do stuff. I like walking on the beach, and playing frisbee with the dog and hiking up Bradbury Mountain for a picnic. I don't want to skip any fun activities because I have the cardio capacity of a 200 year old woman. It's time.

Which brings me to the pain. My muscles are screaming at me, which seems pretty ungrateful, since I'm finally taking them out for air after ignoring them for the last 6 or 7 months. They should be happy! You should have heard me getting out of bed this morning. There were some groans, a couple of grunts, several curse words and some other noises I really can't describe. Suffice it to say it wasn't pretty.

This past winter kicked the crap out of me in a lot of ways. Rejected by my birth mother, out of a job during a recession, and dealing with two separate foot injuries as well as some other personal issues, exercise was the last thing on my mind. I spent way too many hours icing my propped up foot, and now that it has healed, things have got to change.

Spring and I are going to wipe the memory of the horrible winter of 09 out of my mind - or we're going to go down trying.

Celebration Day

2009-04-28T06:07:00.003-04:00

It's here. I've reached my first milestone in the blogosphere. 100 posts. I have written something and posted it to the web one hundred times since last fall. It's really quite amazing to me. I never would have expected to be at this point - me, who used to seriously doubt the value of blogging, but now one of its biggest fans.

I think back to how far I've come since the days of the little pink diary with the tiny key (which I hid in plain sight in my jewelry box - who would think to look there?) that I got for my birthday when I was ten. I tried journalling several times in my life, but I could never stick with it. I certainly never did a hundred entries, even when I was a teenager, and I was so convinced that I had the most dramatic life ever.

I think I know why blogging is different for me than journalling. It's the feedback. Even though I write whatever I want, and usually it's random stuff rattling around in my head, there's something about knowing that someone else is reading it that makes me feel better. I don't think it's a coincidence that I got interested in both reading and writing blogs around the time I lost my job and thus my daily connection with the outside world. Even on my worst day, I have been able to count on the fact that someone will read my ramblings and take a moment out of their day to make a comment, even if it's just to say hello.

That moment of connection means so much to me. I've said it before, but one of things that troubles me is how isolated I think we're becoming in this country. Increasingly, people don't live near their extended family; they don't know their neighbors; children spend time with computers instead of friends; even friends text instead of talk.

But here, in blog world, people are connecting. I'm both amazed and grateful.

So, in honor of my amazement, I'm having a contest!!!! With a prize!!!!

I'm not telling what the prize is (because I still haven't mailed poor Joanie's prize from my last contest, and it's the same thing! I promise to mail this one, and Joanie's, on Friday. I swear.) But it's a good prize. Ask Hallie, if you don't believe me - she knows what it is.

Here's the deal: I think that the internet is one of the most amazing inventions of my lifetime, which got me to thinking about all the other things that have really changed the world since I was born. I've come up with a list:

The 5 top inventions of my lifetime, in my opinion:

Personal computers
Cell phones
The internet
DNA technology
Global Positioning Systems (GPS)

To enter the contest, leave me a comment about the inventions of your life. Or about what you think is the greatest invention of all time (the wheel? fire? contact lenses?). Or about the invention you WISH somebody would invent (permanent hair dying process that actually makes your hair grow out in that color, eliminating root issues? Maybe that's just me...)

I'll take comments through Thursday, and use one of those random number generators to pick the winner. Winner will be announced on Friday. Come play with me!!!!

Just Can't Wait

2009-04-27T06:43:00.002-04:00

Well, it's almost here. My 100th post. I promised that'd I'd hold a contest by way of a celebration, and I will. Tomorrow's the big day, so be sure to stop back and see how you can win a fabulous prize. Well, to be honest, it might not be fabulous, but it is a prize, so it's all good.

We were blessed by amazing weather here in Maine this past weekend. Friday was sunny and warm; Saturday was sunny and warmer (around 80) and Sunday was warm, cloudy but the rain held off until after nightfall. It's amazing how much the weather can affect my mood. Somehow even the difficult things seem a little less horrible when Mother Nature shines on me.

I did notice that there is a lot to be done outside in the way of spring clean-up. I live on a major road, so all the trash that people toss out of their vehicles all winter blows into my front yard, where it hides until the snow melts. Time to put on the rubber gloves and pretend I'm working on the chain gang (I'm all about the role-play, baby.)

There are trees downed in wind storms to be cleaned away, fencing to be repaired, gardens to tend. We're going to need a stretch of the clear weather to get it all done, but what satisfying work it is. Unlike some other things I'm doing in my life, this work shows. I can see a stack of brush waiting for a burn permit, a pile of trash bags, an intact fence line. Some of the other things I'm working on don't really reveal a visible result or a satisfied feeling. I guess, all things considered, I'm glad I have some physically demanding tasks on my to-do list.

I did notice how there are a bunch of muscles that one uses for spring clean-up that one evidently doesn't use for anything else. Yikes. I'm making little noises when I move. Still, it kind of feels bad in a good way, if you know what I mean.

Hope you all had a nice weekend, and please stop by tomorrow to celebrate 100 posts and enter my celebratory contest!

Always on my Mind

2009-04-24T04:16:00.006-04:00

Welcome to Friday Fragments - little bits of randomness that spill out of my brain during the week that aren't really worthy of their own post. I join the fun folks from Half Past Kissin' Time, as well as others, in this endeavor. If you're feeling in a fragmented mood, check them out here.

** I read somewhere this week that when we are born, our eyes are the size they will be for our whole lives. It's one of the reasons babies are so cute, because their eyes are larger in proportion to the rest of them.

I guess the person who invented Precious Moments already figured this out.

** I also learned that, even though our eyes don't grow, our ears and noses never STOP growing. I find this frightening. I wish I had know this years ago; I would have measured my nose then, so I could keep track.

** Why do some places with public bathroom facilities insist on stocking them with the cheapest, thinnest, most worthless toilet paper? Colleges. chain restaurants and highway rest stops are particularly guilty, in my experience. Note to those proprietors: You may pay half as much for each roll of inadequacy, but I use FIVE TIMES AS MUCH tissue. Even if I don't need to.

** I was shopping at the local dollar store the other day, picking up some temporary props for the play, and noticed something interesting at the checkout. They sell home pregnancy tests. Take a moment and absorb this. They sell home pregnancy tests. For a dollar. Now, I'm the first person to try to save a few bucks whenever possible, but do we really want to be trusting the results of a home pregnancy test we picked up at the dollar store? However, if you're okay with it, you can shop online and buy a case of 72 for the bargain price of - you guessed it - $72.

** I wonder who designed lacrosse padding. I wonder this because the shoulder/chest padding (for boys, anyway) covers their shoulders and about one-third of the top of their chests. I mean, it's not like, when your child has the ball in his stick and is running at top speed down the field, that the other team is indescriminately whacking at your child, trying to get him to drop the ball or anything. Really, what are the chances that some of those hits will land somewhere other than the miniscule part of him that is covered with padding? I'm sure there are no vital organs in those areas. I'm just grateful they have to wear a cup. I want grandchildren some day.

More Than a Feeling

2009-04-23T03:00:00.000-04:00

We're through two rehearsals of the play, and it's been very interesting. I'm fascinated at the process of how a play gets from the point of being a bunch of words in a playbook to a fully-formed performance. Of course, we're very early in the process, but I can already see parts of it coming together.

It's especially cool to watch the director work. Andy, from A Long Patience, is directing, and he really seems to have this thing - this vision - of how it's supposed to be. He has an idea of what the characters are thinking and feeling, even as the actors playing them are just beginning to see it. I guess that's what directing is all about. The cast is working well together, and already showing signs of being a family. I've laughed a lot, even at places in the script I hadn't thought were funny. Hearing someone deliver a line in an unexpected way, with a little inflection I didn't think to inject when I was reading it, can give it a whole new meaning, and it can be hilarious.

Alex's first home lacrosse game was rained out (to my great relief - it was really pouring!) and is rescheduled for today. I'm looking forward to seeing him play, but my mom-sense (which is similar to spidey-sense) is worried about the whole danger thing. For some reason, Alex is playing in both the varsity and junior varsity games, even though he is only officially on the JV team. Evidently there are not quite enough players for varsity, so they bring a couple of kids up from JV, and, God help me, Alex seems to be one of those kids. That gives him twice the amount of playing time in which to be pummeled, tackled, slammed, tripped and generally maimed. Great. If you're looking for me at the game, I'll be the one chugging Pepto-Bismal.

I'm still dealing with this cold - spring colds are the absolute worst - and I keep wondering if it is actually possible for one's head to explode. Maybe I'll google it and see what I find. If only I didn't have a million other things to do, I could easily lie on the couch with a blanket and the remote and wait the damn virus out. Unfortunately, that's not possible, so I'll just keep working at that mound of laundry, and floors that suffer from mud season, and too many teenagers in my house during school vacation week. Oh, and somewhere in there, I'll keep applying for jobs, and work on figuring out how to blow my nose without blowing out my ear drums. All in all, I'm keeping busy, which is good, right?

Rainy Days and Mondays

2009-04-21T06:42:00.003-04:00

Remember that song? By the Carpenters - the brother and sister singing duo. Karen Carpenter had an amazing voice, deep and silky smooth. I loved them - still do. You'll find several songs by the Carpenters on my Ipod.(If I can find them on YouTube, I'll post the video at the end of this blog.)

The line in that song was "Rainy days and Mondays always get me down" and that's a little true for me today. I had a really busy weekend, and this is school vacation week, so I have an extra one or two teens staying here, which adds to the general hectic atmosphere. Then, for some reason, I seem to have caught the head cold that was going around, so I'm thick-headed and sluggish, to boot. (I know what you're thinking, but I AM NOT normally this thick-headed. And shame on you for mocking me when I'm sick. Hallie, this means you.)

Yesterday (Monday) was the day I woke up realizing that I was sick, and today it is rainy. Very rainy. 'Check the basement to see how bad the flooding is' rainy. Maybe even 'Noah, start gathering the animals' kind of rainy. After a week or more of really nice, sunny spring weather, the rain is really welcome. We need it, or so the forest fire guy keeps saying on tv. Anyway, we are not allowed to complain - I think there's a no whining ordinance that applies to spring rain after a particularly difficult winter. Here's the conversation, which you can hear at every country store in rural Maine - the place where the old guys drive their old pickup trucks 'down to th'stoah' for coffee and gossip:

Old Guy #1: (growling) Nice weather. The brook is coming up over the road down by the farm.
Old Guy #2: (also growling) Yup. Nice weather t'be a duck.
Old Guy #3: Now, now. Could be worse. We could be shoveling snow.
Old Guys #1 and #2: (chuckling and nodding) Ayuh. That we could.

(Ayuh, for those of you who don't speak Mainer, translates as "I agree" or, more casually, as "yessir", or "yessirree.")

I think we're all afraid to complain about rain in April. We've been slammed by late winter storms enough times to learn our lesson. Rain is better than snow, and don't anger the gods by bitching about it.

I might mention that today is Alex's first home lacrosse game - the first time I get to see him play this dangerous sport, since his other games were all away games - and I am not looking forward to standing outside, sick, in the pouring rain. But that might seem like complaining, so never mind.

There is some good news, too, of course. The Boston Bruins are now up three games to none in the first round of the playoffs. The New England Revolution (major-league soccer) is doing well at the beginning of their season. There are probably good things to say about the Red Sox or the Celtics, but you'll have to ask somebody else for that info.

I AM looking forward to my first play rehearsal tonight. It will be interesting to see the process from the beginning, and I can't wait to see what Andy is like as a director. I'm so glad it's a comedy. I need some comedy in my life. Thank goodness there's never a lack of things to laugh about.

Even on Rainy Days and Mondays.

Spring Fever

2009-04-17T07:26:00.004-04:00

It’s time to get rid of all the weird stuff that rolls around in my head all during the week. I present this Friday Fragments post in conjunction with the great folks over at Half Past Kissin’ Time. Mrs. 4444 lives there, and she's a scream! Pop over and read what her husband had to say about their daughter's sleepover birthday party. Classic. Best one-liner of the day.

I had a great time out with my college friends on Wednesdays. We went to Chili’s, which is a restaurant I had never been to before, but I admired how much fun everyone is always having there in the TV commercials. As it turned out, we had just as much fun as the folks in the ad campaign, but it didn’t have much to do with the restaurant. The food was okay, definitely not spectacular, but it didn’t matter. What we need in a dinner location is: decent food, refillable drinks, wait staff that doesn’t bug us too much, and business that’s slow enough so they don’t care if we hang around for three hours. Girls Night Out is all about the Girls, and not so much about the Out.

I got the latest James Bond movie from Netflix – since I missed it when it was in the theater – but I haven’t watched it yet. I’m not all that excited about it. I’ve been a Bond fan since I was a kid, but I have very strong opinions on just exactly who makes a good 007 and who does not. My first Bond flicks were the Roger Moore ones – out in the theaters - which I liked just fine. Then I discovered the Sean Connery Bond, and fell in love. He was the swagger-y, smirking, completely male spy, and I adored him. Still do. Of course, then Pierce Brosnan took over the role, and I fell into lust. He is, without a doubt, the sexiest Bond ever, and I love everything about him, including the updated, more politically correct version of 007 (after all, the Brosnan Bond came with new, nifty special effects!). Unfortunately, I’m not buying the new guy. He’s blond, for one thing. He’s not sarcastic enough (at least not in the first movie). He’s missing that special something – I think it’s attitude – and I don’t want to be his Bond girl.

Speaking of Netflix, I have been making a list of movies I want to see someday. I compiled the list after Yahoo put out their Top 100 Movies Everyone Should See list. I also went through AFI’s top 100, and their top 10 from each category (musicals, action films, comedies, etc.). I ended up with a list of about 40 movies that I want to see, or think that I should see, anyway. Ten or so of those are movies I’ve seen before, but it was so long ago, I want to see them with my new, grown-up eyes. If I accomplish everything I am supposed to do by mid-afternoon today, I’m going to cross one off: The Maltese Falcon. I know I saw this when I was a kid, but I don’t remember much about it, and I’m looking forward to rewarding myself for having made it through another week.

I might even take my laptop out onto the deck and enjoy the great outdoors with my movie. It is supposed to be 60 degrees here today. We’ve been in spectacular weather mode here all week, but the brisk winds have finally gone and we can soak up the sun without getting an eyeful of sand. I think Old Man Winter has finally lost his grip and slunk away, leaving us a little battered, but ready to embrace Spring. I swear I heard a collective sigh from the Northeast.

Girls Just Wanna Have Fun

2009-04-15T12:37:00.002-04:00

Tonight's one of my rare Girls Night Out events. Once every other month or so, I try to get together with two of my best friends from college. Lately we've tried really hard to actually do it, and not let it get pushed aside, which is what used to happen a lot.

Even though we usually just go out to dinner and talk, I find these evenings incredibly restorative. There's something about spending time with people who have known you for 30 years that's so freeing - after all, these people already know all your embarassing secrets. I'm really looking forward to it.

As I was thinking about the subject of friends, I realized that I'm lucky to have quite a few of them. They're all unique, and my relationship with each of them is different, but each plays an important part in my life and would leave a terrible chasm if they were gone. I've been especially blessed to find some new friends out here in the Blogosphere. I treasure my friends, and I don't think I tell them that often enough.

Which brings me to the story that I want to tell you. My friend Jocelyn recently said to me, "why don't you talk about me on your blog?" I explained to her that I usually only talk about people when they participate in or achieve an noteworthy event, so if she were to do something interesting, I would talk about her. (It's okay to talk to her like this - she likes my sarcasm. No, really, she does.)

I've known Jocelyn for over 10 years. We met when my family did a dogsledding demonstration for some high school age girl scouts. Jocelyn was around 16 at the time, and she fell in love with dogsledding. She volunteered to help us train the dogs, and soon became the best helper we'd ever had. Quickly she morphed into one of the family. She not only helped with the dogs, she helped me hundreds of times with other things - picking up the kids after school, or dropping them at their soccer practice, rescuing me when my car broke down. I've known her through a bunch of big changes in her life - high school, college, big-time scientific job, buying a house (only a mile away from me- YAY!) and now, planning a move (10 miles away from me - BOO!). Jocelyn even lets me bake stuff over at her house when my oven's broken. I'm old enough to be her mother, and she can cause me to have one of those 'lump-in-the-throat, my-little-girl-is-all-grown-up-now' moments. She's one of my favorite people, and even though I don't see her as much as I used to, I love her madly.

Anyway, we were talking on the phone yesterday, and she told me something that really made me laugh, and is totally blog-worthy. Evidently someone hacked her debit card number and used it to purchase some stuff. Now, I've heard of people having their stolen credit cards used for overseas phone calls, massive electronics or phone-sex calls, but not this time. Jocelyn's thief used her card to buy flowers (a big bunch, evidently for $180) and join a Christian Singles dating site.

Okay, am I the only one that finds it HYSTERICAL that somebody used a stolen credit card to join a dating site for CHRISTIANS???? Hell, party of one!

Jocelyn told me on the phone that when she called the companies to ask that the charges be removed, one of them mentioned the email address of the person who purchased the items. Unfortunately, she didn't write it down, but oh, the possibilities if she had. Jocelyn and I brainstormed some fun ideas of how we could torture the perpetrator. My favorite ideas involved signing up for fake email addresses and bombarding her with spam.

From: GOD1111@ yahoo.com
To: Thief
Subject: You're a sinner
What do you think you're doing, using stolen money to participate in Christian dating? If you should ever meet someone, you will turn to a pillar of salt.

From: SATAN666@ hotmail.com
To: Miss Understood
Subject: Your reservation
Confirming your reservation for a premium room in the Hell Hotel. Lava flow views and 24 hour access to burning and wailing.

Couldn't we have some fun with this? I know I have some pretty creative readers, so let me know what you think.

Don't forget, keep track of your credit and debit cards, and I hope you all have a Jocelyn in your life.!

Nothing from Nothing

2009-04-14T12:21:00.003-04:00

I'm feeling completely uninspired. I've been trying for three days to think of something to write about, and having no luck whatsoever. Yet, even though I have nothing to say, I know I need to post something, so I'm reaching back several weeks to one of those random meme's that I was tagged with. This one asked me to come up with 4 facts about myself that I haven't posted before, and here they are:

1. I'm not really a brunette - at least, not anymore. My hair is gray. All - or nearly all - gray. I started going gray when I was 16, and by the time I was 25, it was bad enough that I started coloring it. If I let it go too long, the tell-tale skunk stripe down my center part could positively blind you. One of the first things I'm going to ask my birth mother, if she ever agrees to meet me, is if this is a hereditary thing.

2. I am a cat lover, which you may already know, but each of my cats has an interesting story, and I'll use up three facts if I tell you, so... Midnight, my oldest cat, is about 10 years old and all black. When she was about 1, and our only cat, she got out of the house accidently and disappeared. I was heartbroken. She was gone for over a month - at the same time my mom was dying. I was spending all day working, then driving an hour and a half to the nursing home to spend a few hours with my mom, driving home to sleep a few hours, only to repeat the whole thing. Each day the doctors said, 'say goodbye, she probably won't make it through the night.' This went on for 3 and a half weeks. One weekend morning, as I fixed a travel mug of coffee for my trip to the nursing home, I thought I heard a little mew. A second later, I heard it again, and I went to the door, opened it, and in ran Midnight. She was a little thinner, but looked clean and healthy. She ran right by me and went to where the food dishes had been, waiting for breakfast. I burst into tears. The next day, my mother passed away. I firmly believe that God said, "I know how hard it is for you right now, with me calling your mom home, so I'm sending back your furry baby." She's my miracle cat.

3. Eclipse is my 'middle' cat, and a bit of a miracle herself. One night, as we were getting our frozen meat delivery (our dogs eat an amazing amount of meat, which is kept in huge freezers in our attached shed) one of my kids heard some faint crying. Upon investigation, he found three tiny kittens, eyes not even open yet, crying frantically in the attic of the shed. I had seen a feral cat hanging around our shed for several months, which isn't unusual, since we have dog food and meat hanging around. The day before, I had seen the cat lying dead on the road about a quarter of a mile down our very busy road, and had felt bad about it. Well, come to find out, she had chosen our shed to have her litter. These poor orphaned kittens hadn't eaten in at least 36 hours and they were very hungry. We brought them in, and nursed them by hand with tiny bottles and kitten formula. We gave two of them away, and kept Eclipse. She's the cuddliest cat I've ever known, having been raised by hand. She's what I guess you call a calico - she has fur of every color, with the main background being black. Sometime I'll dig out the baby pictures of my sons nursing the kitties. Their hands look huge because the kittens were so small. Who says boys aren't nurturing?

4. Last, but not least, we have a yellow tabby cat named Ursa. Ursa Major, really. She was another mostly wild cat who chose our shed to have babies in - twice! The first time, we didn't discover them until the kittens were several weeks old, and they were completely feral and terrified of us. We could never manage to catch them, and they eventually moved on, but Mama Cat stayed. I fed her (how could you not?) out in the shed, and prayed that she wouldn't get killed on our road. By the second time I noticed she was pregnant, she had become pretty friendly to us, and I began hatching a plan. One day, when I let my dog Bliss out to go potty, Mama Cat, who normally didn't pay any attention to Bliss, totally attacked her, hissing and trying to scratch her. Bliss, by the way, took off for the dog yard and refused to come back near the house - such a brave watch dog, huh? Anyway, I coaxed Mama Cat over and noticed she was bleeding slightly, which I knew meant she was going to have her kittens. I grabbed her, brought her inside, and set her up with a clean comfy place in our sunporch. She had only two kittens, and we kept her and the kittens inside until the kittens were old enough to be adopted. By this time, Mama Cat was very friendly, loved to be petted, and would even let us pick her up. Ever so carefully, we introduced her into our household, and, while they scuffle occasionally, all is usually calm. We finally decided to stop calling her Mama Cat, and so she became Ursa (although we forget and call her MC anyway).

Woo-hoo! I did it! I posted something. I am pathetically proud of myself. See what my life has become? Tomorrow is a GIRLS NIGHT OUT, so maybe by Thursday I'll have my mojo back.

Thank God It's Friday

2009-04-10T03:00:00.000-04:00

Time for more random thoughts. I do this in conjunction with a fabulous blogger, Mrs. 4444 over at Half-Past Kissin' Time. She is really funny, and is happy to share even her most embarrassing moments, which I totally admire. Last week she chose me as her Favorite Friday Fragmenter, which makes me love her even more!

While I was laid up with my broken foot, I got caught a couple of times without the TV remote handy, and ended up watching some shows I would never have watched otherwise. One of those shows was Gunsmoke, which I don't think I liked even way back when it was on the first time. I'm not really a western-watching kind of gal. Anyway, I did learn something from Gunsmoke. Back in the western days, attempted murder wasn't a crime. Nope. If you shot at somebody and missed, nobody cared. Heck, a lot of the time, nobody even noticed. I'm not sure when this particular law got changed, but I'm glad it did.

Did everybody hear about what happened with the Sham-Wow guy? His real name is Vince Shlomi. Okay, let's all take a minute and enjoy his last name. Hee. Allright, now, if you haven't heard, Mr. Shlomi was arrested for an altercation with a hooker. Evidently, he hired a hooker for $1000 (I guess the Sham Wow gig paid pretty well!) and then had to beat her up when she allegedly bit his tongue and wouldn't let go. They both ended up arrested. Let me say that I do not condone violence of any kind, but I have to admit, this made me chuckle a bit. I mean, the first thing I thought about was that, if there was a mess, at the very least, he'd have something with which to clean it up (say it with me: shamWOW!). Most of all, however, I am supremely disappointed in my Sham Wow guy. He has a record now, and it's not for sales. Thanks to Becca over at Don't Get Me Started for alerting me to this troubling news.

I have a love of board games and jigsaw puzzles. I like doing puzzles by myself, but I like them even more with company. I think the reason I like them has little to do with the game or the puzzle, but more to do with the fun conversations that take place during them. I got this love from my parents, who loved to play games, and I've tried to instill it in my kids, with slightly less success. Back when I was a kid, we had only a few choices for fun: playing outside, playing games, or watching one of the three tv channels we had. Now family games have to compete with computer games, video games, MySpace, Instant Messenger and 500 television channels. Still, we actually wore out one of our favorite games, and I had to buy a replacement. The game is called Sequence, and I highly recommend it. It's one of those "one minute to learn, a lifetime to master" kind of games. I love love love playing it, even though Alex can totally kick my butt almost every time. He's very competitive.

Speaking of Alex's competitive nature - he is playing Lacrosse this spring for the first time. I knew he would like it - running around with a stick? He's all about that. His mom, on the other hand, is not at all sure she wants her baby out there getting beat up. I've decided the best thing to do is hold my breath and pray a lot. Hopefully that will keep him safe.

I hope you all have a fabulous weekend and a Happy Easter!

Winner Takes It All

2009-04-09T03:00:00.001-04:00

Ding! Ding! Ding! We have a winner! Yesterday I reminded everyone about my secret contest, and gave out a little hint. Actually, it must have been a big hint, because in hardly the time it takes to say Super Secret Giveaway, someone came up with the correct answer.

Before I announce the winner, I must say how much I enjoyed your comments yesterday. I especially liked those who said I was entertaining, or funny, or positive. Thank you! Bonus points to Claudia, who claimed I was a 'freakin' genius'. I love you. No bonus points to Becca, who asked if it was that I was whiny. Thanks for noticing. I love you anyway. But MAJOR EXTRA SPECIAL BONUS POINTS to Sue, who said, AND I QUOTE, "Every time you write you reach another level of rock star status?" Hey, Sue? You might be my favorite.

Yes, most of my blog titles are musical in nature. They are usually song titles, in fact. Congratulations to Joanie from Joanie's Random Ramblings, who was the first to comment on it.

I started doing this a while ago, partly because it can be hard to come up with a snappy title for a blog post. There are zillions of songs out there, all with perfectly good titles for me to steal. It's become a sort of trivia game that I play in my own head. I write the post, and then try to think of a song that fits. Oh, the myriad ways I devise to amuse myself!

Joanie - send me your address (via email) and I'll send you your super secret prize. I'm not going to announce what it is, because the prize for my 100th post contest is probably going to be the same thing, and I don't want to ruin the surprise.

I love music, and there's almost always a song running through my head while I'm doing other things. It's kind of like my own personal soundtrack. It runs the gamut - classics to current. I kept track of some of the songs I either listened to on my Ipod, or sang to myself yesterday while I was doing my household chores, and they included Ella Fitzgerald, Patsy Cline, Jason Mraz, Abba, Blood Sweat and Tears, The Carpenters, Queen and Norah Jones. My musical tastes are eclectic, I guess, but so is my life. I have a lot going on in my head - it takes a lot of different songs to accompany me.

Do you want to know a secret?

2009-04-08T08:40:00.003-04:00

I realized that I am fast approaching 100 posts, which made me think about my planned celebratory giveaway, which made me remember the SUPER SECRET GIVEAWAY that no one has won yet.

If you are a new reader - WELCOME! - and here is what I said about the secret contest:

If I ever make it to 100 posts, I will have a real contest, but in the meantime, I'm having a SUPER SECRET GIVEAWAY. Unfortunately for you, I'm not telling you how to enter. This giveaway is strictly for my own amusement, and so I made up the rules and decided to keep them a secret. I have identified a certain comment that I might hear from one of my fabulously smart commenters, and the first person who makes this particular observation, WINS.

See how fun this will be? For ME, I mean? You can't do anything to enter, except go on commenting, just like always. If anybody ever spills the super-secret phrase/sentence/observation, they'll be a winner. It's like a game that only I will know we're playing! Well, I'll be the only one who knows the rules. Genius! And there's even a prize. Which is also a secret.

You may think I've lost my mind - and you'd be correct - but isn't one of the purposes of blogging to amuse oneself? And, in case you're wondering, pointing out that I am certifiably nuts is NOT the secret observation. Sorry.

Well, here we are several weeks later, and no winner yet, so I decided to give you a hint. The super-secret observation will be something that someone NOTICES about my blog. Something that might be said about just about every one of my blog posts.

Okay. There. That's all you're getting. If nobody gets it before my 100th post, then I may decide to tell you the secret observation and add the prize to the big giveaway. Or I may keep it for myself - I'll pretend I won something and jump up and down and squeal. I'm just crazy enough to make that work for me.

Overture, Curtains, Lights

2009-04-07T03:00:00.002-04:00

It was a dark and stormy night...

I've always wanted to write that. Actually, though, it WAS a dark and stormy night for the first night of auditions for the play. It didn't dampen our moods, though. I had a terrific time, trying to be helpful. I even read a bit when there was a hole in the casting, and I really enjoyed it. I don't know that I'm ever going to be an actress, but I think I'm a pretty good reader, and everybody should do what they can, right?

The play is going to be really funny, which is exactly what I need. I hope they need lots and lots of help. I plan to make myself entirely indispensable. The important thing was that for two and a half hours, I didn't think about any of my problems. It was practically a miracle.

I don't think I mentioned yesterday that this play is being directed by the very talented Andrew Scott Turner, a great writer, my good friend and the author of some of the wittiest comments you'll ever read out in the blogosphere. I had no idea he had directing talent, but evidently, his skills cover a lot of ground. I can't wait to watch him work, because he makes me laugh just about every time I see him, and that, too, is miraculous. He's back blogging again, in case you missed that post, over at A Long Patience.

Spending time with people I already like, and the possibility of making a new friend or two while participating in that grand adventure called theater...well, let's just say things could be worse.

Hope For Me Yet

2009-04-06T03:00:00.000-04:00

Let me be right up front with a certain fact. I've been having a difficult time lately, and it's been affecting my blogging. Many of you have noticed, and have sent me a variety of comments and emails, all of which I appreciate very much. It's interesting to see which of you try to soothe and comfort me, encourage me, motivate me, or holler at me. I'm not sure which method works best, but it doesn't matter. I miss my bloggy friends, and I miss blogging when I don't do it.

The problem is that I don't seem to have much to say. I know what you're thinking - that hasn't stopped me in the past - but it is hampering my creativity this time. I have decided though, that I am going to operate under the "fake it till you make it" system. I will keep on blogging, even if the subject matter is lame, until I start to feel better.

Speaking of making me feel better, I had a lovely visit with my dear friend Connie last week, and she invited me to go to a play with her yesterday. I LOVE the theater. When I was in high school, I was involved heavily in drama and music, but I haven't done much with it lately, even though I have been lucky enough to live in areas with thriving community theater groups.

I do go to see productions whenever I can, and I always enjoy them. I figure that if people are going to get all dressed up, memorize a bunch of lines, build sets, learn songs and perform for me - I'm going to appreciate the hell out of it. One of the high points of my life was the one and only time I went to a Broadway show (The Producers). I almost fainted from the excitement.

Anyway, the play yesterday was really terrific (Over the River and Through the Woods), and I really liked it. I laughed, I cried. It really hit home for me with its themes of family, food and faith (three things I really believe in). Connie, who's involved with the local theater group and is producing another show in June, invited me to come and help out at auditions this week, and perhaps find something I could do to help with the show. She thinks if I get out and do things, it'll be good for me.

She's right. So, I'm going to get back out there, into the world, and see if I can get my groove back. Hey, it worked for Stella. I wonder if Taye Diggs will be at the auditions...

So Rare

2009-04-02T14:10:00.004-04:00

That most elusive of creatures - a teenager with a smile on his face. It's what I have to keep me going these days. That's his friend Stryder with him. He has one brown eye and one blue eye, and is part of the Lord of the Rings litter (littermates include Frodo, Rohan, Gimli, Legolas, and Arwin. You should see the kids roll their eyes when someone mistakenly thinks we said Leg-less; I mean, who would name their dog legless? Unless he was, obviously. And even then.)

Lady Willpower

2009-03-30T19:55:00.005-04:00

I am about to do something I said I wouldn't do. I'm going to post a picture of the woman I believe to be my birth mother. I know I said I wouldn't do it, even though I was tempted. I guess I lied.

I'm having a really hard time right now, for a lot of reasons I won't impose on you right now. Believe me when I say you'll probably get to hear a lot more about my troubles as time goes on. Today was a particularly difficult day, and it got me to thinking that life's too short. I'm going to end up on my deathbed wishing I had done more of what I wanted and less of what everybody else wanted. So here I go.

What's the worst that could happen if I put this picture up? I don't think anybody she knows reads my blog. And even if they did, what are the chances they would recognize this old picture of her? And even if they did, how horrible would that be? I am not giving her name - not her name at the time this was taken, nor her name now. I'm simply going to put up a random picture, one of billions that will be posted to the internet today. I don't think the world will stop revolving just because I showed this one. Although a volcano may erupt in Alaska - sorry, Becca! - but I really doubt anybody can directly pin that on me.

I am going to post two pictures. One is my senior picture from high school, and one is her senior picture, which I got from her high school yearbook at the library. I may regret this, and pull the post down, but for the moment, here we are - me and my bio mother.

Chili Sunday

2009-03-29T07:51:00.003-04:00

For those of you who asked, here is the recipe for the white chili. It is a consistent favorite at our house. I should mention that I always make a double batch, and I play around with the amount of chicken and beans - which usually means less chicken and more beans - depending on what's in the cupboard and freezer. The spices are what make this meal so yummy; you could probably throw anything in there and it would taste good (except cabbage. or beets.)

Southwest White Chili

· 2 tablespoons olive oil
· 1 1/2 pounds (about 5 breasts) boneless, skinless chicken breast halves, cut into bite-size pieces
· 1/2 cup chopped onion
· 4 garlic cloves, minced through a press or 2 teaspoons garlic powder
· 2 teaspoons ground cumin
· 1 teaspoon dried oregano
· 1/4 to 1/2 teaspoon ground red pepper
· 2-(4-ounce) cans chopped green chilies, undrained
· 2 cups chicken broth
· 2-(19-ounce) cans white kidney (canellini) beans, undrained
· 1-2 teaspoons dried cilantro
· Salt to taste
· Garnishes: white corn tortilla chips, shredded Monterey Jack cheese, sliced green onions

Heat oil in a large saucepan over medium-high heat and add chicken pieces. Cook 5 to 6 minutes, stirring often, until no longer pink. Remove chicken from pan with a slotted spoon, cover and set aside to keep warm.

Add chopped onion to saucepan. Cook and stir for 3 minutes.

Add garlic; (for fresh garlic, stir only until its aroma is released to avoid burning it)

Add the cumin, coriander, oregano, cilantro and red pepper. Stir for 1 minute.

Stir in green chilies. Add chicken broth and simmer for 20-30 minutes. Add undrained beans and chicken; reduce heat and simmer uncovered for 30 minutes, stirring occasionally. Garnish and enjoy.

More Friday Fragments

2009-03-27T03:00:00.004-04:00

Back to my plan to serve up Friday Fragments – random thoughts I’ve had during the week that are too short (or too ridiculous) for their own post. I’m joining a great group of people over at Half Past Kissin’ Time who do this every Friday. I’m a random kind of gal these days, so this seems completely right to me.

One of the best parts about having the snow melt is that you can again push a shopping cart through a parking lot without wrenching your shoulders or losing your mind. Pushing a cart through 8 inches of fresh snow, or over rutted chunks of ice is an experience I can do without. Welcome, spring!

Don’t tell anybody, but sometimes I watch reruns of old family sitcoms on TV. There’s something about Full House or Growing Pains, or even (eek) Who’s the Boss? that makes me feel better. I think it brings me back to a time when life was easier. I mean, how complicated could life be when the kids are hiding a horse in the kitchen and the adults in the house don’t even notice? If only my life was simple like that.

I don’t use the texting/instant messenger lingo. No LOLing or C U L8R or any of that stuff, almost ever. My mom was a teacher, and I was a Journalism major. I just can’t use all those shortcuts and feel okay about them. It’s a sickness, and I can’t help myself. I’m not a perfect-grammar nazi or anything, but even on my blog, when I ‘cheat’ by starting a sentence with AND or BUT, or when I don’t use complete sentences, I have a little twinge of guilt. I totally admire those who can do the texting shortcut thing (and heck, I’m completely impressed with how FAST you can do it) but I just won’t be joining you any time soon.

Thanks to those who asked for my white chili recipe. I would be glad to share with you, and will post it over the weekend – I know I have it in my computer somewhere.

There were some lovely comments on my post yesterday about my mom, but one totally cracked me up. If you didn’t read the post, I talked about my mom’s obsession with playing cards (specifically, canasta) and her love of all things trivia. My friend Andy (Andrew Scott Turner, for those of you who have read his blog) said this:

Great tribute! Do you think she's in heaven shouting at St. Pete "Not yet, I'm just about to meld!" Or "Did you know, every time a bell rings, an angel gets his wings?"

.
I’m still giggling about this. My mom, who most definitely is in heaven doing exactly those things, is also giggling – I’m sure of it. Thanks, Andy. You always make me laugh. Those of you who miss Andy’s brand of intellect and humor will be happy to note he’s back in the blog world, and you can check out his new blog, Long Patience.

.
I hope you all have a nice weekend!

Mother of Mine

2009-03-26T03:00:00.001-04:00

Today is my mother’s birthday. She loved birthdays, so I thought I’d devote this blog to her – she would have appreciated it. Mom was a schoolteacher and really liked anything that encouraged reading. She taught fifth grade, and claimed she couldn’t go any higher than fifth grade without the kids being taller than she was. As a teacher, she was somewhat strict, but made time for fun with the kids every day. I know I love books because of her example.

My mother loved games – all kinds of games, especially card games. She played Canasta like there was nothing else in life. I can still remember she and my father, along with family friends and us kids, playing Canasta around the dining room table in the hot, humid August air late into the evening and sometimes into the wee hours of the morning. My brother and I, kept up long after our bedtime, would beg to be allowed to go to sleep. “Not yet, I’m just about to meld!!!” she’d yell. She competed with every fiber of her being, and might be likely to do a shameless victory dance, but at the same time, cheered for anyone who won. Good times, those.

My mom also loved trivia. She loved it long before it was popular to love trivia. She used to have a Friday trivia contest with her class, and when Trivial Pursuit came out, she claimed they ‘stole the idea from me!’ I have to agree. I can remember her throwing out random facts at the oddest times. We’d be on our way to church, and she’d say, “did you know that elephants are pregnant for almost two years?” or we’d be barbecuing, and she’d say, “did you know that Robert E. Lee’s horse was named Traveler?” I thought it a delightful eccentricity, but my brother used to roll his eyes a lot. After her stroke, she would call me on the phone, sometimes dozens of times each day, to give me some critical ‘fact’ I needed to know. Sometimes I’d have to struggle to be pleasant, wanting to say, “you know, Mom, I have stuff to do!” but I’m so glad I didn’t ever say it. I’d give my right arm for one more call, telling me how many times per second a hummingbird beats its wings.

Even thinking about today’s date makes me smile. My mom, who was an only child, was born on March 26. Her mother’s birthday was March 27. (Some of you may remember that my mom’s parents lived with us from the time I was a baby.) My grandmother, as she got older and began ‘slipping’ a bit in her mind, got a little confused about the dates. She insisted that, since she was older than my mother, that HER birthday had to be BEFORE my mom's, so she claimed March 26 and said the 27th was mom’s day. We all thought this was hysterical, and cheerfully swapped our celebrations accordingly.

Being adopted by this remarkable woman (and her well-chosen, fun-loving spouse - love ya, Dad!) was undoubtedly one of the biggest blessings in my life. Anybody who wants to know how they handled adoption issues can read these previous posts: My Mother’s Eyes or The Chosen Baby.

Happy Birthday, Mom. I love you. Tell Gram I said happy birthday, too.

But I Won't Do That

2009-03-25T03:00:00.001-04:00

Yesterday I told you what some of my favorite foods are. I think I've already established what a lover of food I am. I do love to eat, and like a wide variety of things. I love all sections of the food pyramid, and very seldom do I ever refuse food. That being said, there are a few things I won't eat. When I say I won't eat them, I mean it. I won't do it, even to be polite (unless, perhaps, that you are the Queen of England or Pierce Brosnan. Then I might consider it.) Anyway, here they are, in no particular order:

These things scare me. Look at their beadly little eyes. And starched marshmallows? Bad. Very, very bad. Couldn't eat them if I wanted.

Moxie is a vile concoction that was invented in Maine. I want to be supportive and proud of my state, but this stuff is gross. If you've never had it, it's sort of like a cross between Dr. Pepper and cherry cough syrup. Doesn't it sound yummy?

Jello. I know, it's America's favorite dessert, but I can't do it. The texture creeps me out. My cousins used to squeeze it through their teeth, and even that memory makes me shudder.

Again, a texture thing, I think. They squeak against your teeth. And I'm not convinced that they aren't made out of styrofoam, which I'm pretty sure you're not supposed to eat.

Cabbage. I hate everything about it - how it tastes, but especially how it smells when it's cooking.

Along the same lines, I can't stand New England Boiled Dinner, which is boiled cabbage with the delightful addition of corned beef. I don't like corned beef either. What is corned, anyway? It doesn't sound like something you should be doing to food that you're going to eat.

I like most cheeses. Actually, I LOVE most cheeses. Cheese rules. Except this one. Blue Cheese is one thing I wish I liked, because the people who like it seem to really, really like it. But I can't. I think it tastes like feet. And what's the blue stuff? Isn't it mold? We're not supposed to eat mold, are we? Sorry, but I don't get it.

Cooked peaches. This is a case of taking something so very yummy - Fresh peaches - and making them inedible by cooking them until their texture is slimy and disgusting. Don't be cooking my peaches, and don't be putting them in pie or ice cream. That's just wrong.

Raw sushi. I want to be seen as a sophisticated woman. For the most part, I'm pretty good at faking it, too. But, if we go to a sushi bar or restaurant, I'll be the one eating the lame cooked sushi and grimacing every time you bite into a hunk of raw fish. I like my meat and fish cooked, although when it comes to steak, I only want it SLIGHTLY cooked. But that's another story.

Pickled beets. My parents and grandparents loved them. My grandmother used to make them and we had them at just about every meal from June through September. They give me the heebie-jeebies, along with pickled eggs, pickled pigs feet and pickled onions. In my opinion, the only things that should be pickled are, well, pickles.

There you have it - the foods I love to hate. I can't wait to get your reactions. Do you love some of these foods? What other foods give you the full-body heaves? Spill.

My Favorite Things

2009-03-24T03:00:00.000-04:00

I'm dieting (again) so, of course, I'm food-obsessed. I think about food way too much, but I can't help myself, so I thought I'd make you all suffer with me. I made a list of 10 of my favorite foods, and here they are, with pictures!

My favorite nut - not including my kids - is the pistachio. They're like crack to me. Once I start, I can't stop chomping their nutty goodness.

The KING of snack foods: The Ring Ding. Chocolate cake, creme filling, covered in dark chocolately yumminess. Even more delicious from the refrigerator. And hockey-puck shaped, to boot. What's not to love?

White chili. I make this, and it's one of my most requested bring-alongs (when a dessert is not required). It's made with chicken and cannelini beans, and is amazingly chili-like, even without the beef and tomato sauce. Sprinkle a little monterey jack cheese on top and voila!

What can I say? Dark chocolate. Creamy mint filling. Oh, how I love thee.

My new fave lunch choice. Garlic Chicken White Pizza Lean Pockets. Two minutes in the microwave, and lunch is ready!

Coffee. With cream. No sugar. I gave up caffeine many years ago, but really good decaf, with real cream or half and half (not milk!) makes me so, so happy. I found that, if you're going decaf, you have to splurge on the good stuff.

Seafood. All of it, especially shellfish. I was lucky enough to grow up on the coast of Maine, where seafood is still pretty cheap and plentiful. Melt me some butter, and all you'll hear after that is me, moaning with pleasure. Sometimes I even purr.

Freshly picked strawberries. Nothing like it. Can't wait for July to get here.

Coffee chip ice cream (or mocha chip). The important thing is that it's coffee ice cream with dark chocolate chips. To die for.

Hands down the best cereal ever. Sometimes, when I'm trying to avoid eating all that bad stuff I just listed, I eat a bowl of mini wheats for a snack.

Well, there you have it. The foods that I love. Tune in tomorrow for a list of foods I hate!

He Ain't Heavy, He's My Brother

2009-03-22T21:14:00.018-04:00

I have been thinking a lot about my kids lately. A lot of it has to do with the fact that they are so grown up. It seems to have happened all of a sudden. Of course, Brandon is 21, and has been (officially) an adult for quite a while, but suddenly Alex has developed all kinds of grown-up traits. His social life is much more exciting than mine. His phone rings more than mine. When did this happen?

I think I'm also feeling a bit melancholy about the whole family thing right now. I'm trying to connect with my birth mother, and hoping that somewhere there might be siblings for me, too. I think having brothers or sisters is a wonderful gift. I think I've mentioned before that when my parents died, it was the most alone I've ever felt. I have a brother, also adopted, but we are not close at all. When your parents die, if you have a good relationship with your siblings, I think you can help each other through it. That wasn't my experience, unfortunately, and I have always wished that I had a sister.

When I had kids - more specifically, the second kid - I was determined that they would have a good, even great, relationship - even if it killed me. I know that parents have a lot of wishes for their children: that they will grow up to be kind, honest, loving people; that they will be good citizens; that they will put you in one of the nicer nursing homes someday. But more than any of that, I wanted to make sure they'd be there for each other forever, even after I was gone.
I think, from what I've seen so far, that things are working out pretty well. My boys love each other unconditionally. They don't always agree, but they know they can count on each other when the chips are down. They'll never be all alone in the world.

In my 'scan all the old pictures' project mania, I've found a bunch of pictures that make my heart all squishy.

This is what they look like now. Long haired freaks. I just love them to pieces.

When Alex came along, Brandon forgave me for having a boy. He had been hoping for a girl, and had planned to name her Carolina - no idea why. We didn't tell him we were planning Emily for a girl!

When Alex was first learning to 'talk' he would babble at Brandon more than anyone else.

I always reminded Brandon how much his baby brother needed him to show him the ropes, and he was so patient with him, even when he was messing with his toys.

I could have taken this picture a thousand times. This is what happened at every dog sled race and on every training day. "Pull me!" is all Brandon ever heard.

See why I tortured them with matching pj's on Christmas Eve? How cute is this?

This is how you keep a couple of kids busy when you're painting the house. Brandon was in on the secret, but Alex really thought he was helping.

The birth of the love of video games, captured on film for posterity. The funniest thing about this picture is that Alex, who is clearly having a blast, is holding a controller that isn't plugged in. He had no idea. This picture still makes Brandon laugh like crazy.

This is an ongoing activity - the "I can squeeze you till you screech or puke" maneuver. It happens all the time - today even. I don't care. They're hugging. I love it.

One of many first day of school pics by the lilac bushes. Alex was too little to go yet, but he wanted to wait for the bus with his brother.

Homemade costumes. Gotta love 'em. Alex's tiger costume was made for Brandon when he was little, and they both wore it for at least two years each. Brandon's wizard costume was decorated with spray-on glitter that ended up all over me, my car, my house, and the cat.

A rare sighting of both boys wearing suits and ties. Thank heaven I have this record, or I wouldn't believe it myself.

I love this one, with Alex clinging to Brandon for dear life. Don't worry, he'll take care of you!

That's what brothers are for: to hold your hand and walk beside you. It's about all anybody needs, isn't it?

Stop the World

2009-03-20T06:02:00.002-04:00

Does anybody else remember the musical "Stop the World, I Want to Get Off"? It's old (like me) and it had that song "What Kind of Fool Am I?" in it. Anyway, the point is that I'm feeling a little bit like that. Ever since I've been home, it feels like I've been going full speed, trying to get everything done, and not quite making it.

It has been a busy week, and somehow I'm so exhausted that I can't sit down for a minute without falling asleep. Add in the little bit of 'after the good time is over' letdown, and it's a recipe for disaster.

I did seven loads of laundry in the last two days, and there are still mounds to do. How can people wear so much clothing? People don't ever mention what a laundry-maker it is to have dogsledders in your household. Having dogs is a messy enterprise, and as the snow starts to melt, we are left with mud season. Delightful, I tell you, just delightful. I especially enjoy washing caked mud off stuff - clothes, floors, shoes, the inside of the shower.

I'm also so far behind on reading blogs, I don't know how I can catch up. I find myself wondering how you are, and what you've been up to while I've been unable to check in with your blogs. I hope I didn't miss anything amazing - well, I always hope that amazing things happen to you, but you know what I mean.

I've decided that I only have two goals for the weekend: Finish the laundry and catch up on my reading. That sounds do-able, right? Next week I am going to write to my birth mother again, so I may start brainstorming ideas for that letter. If anyone has a suggestion, I'm all ears. Obviously, letter number one did not work, so this one has to be even better, more moving, more something. This one just HAS to make her want to call me. It just has to.

Please Come to Boston

2009-03-18T07:13:00.008-04:00

I know, I know - I promised I would blog on Tuesday. I forgot about how exhausting it is chaperoning a field trip for teenagers. I drove a car full of students (BOY students, no less) from Alex's voice class to a dress rehearsal performance of two operas put on by the music and theater departments of the University of Southern Maine. In case you're into opera, the two performances were Suor Angelica and Gianni Schicchi, both by Puccini. I don't listen to this kind of music for fun very often, but I don't mind going to a fully-staged opera once in a while. I think I learned to like it by watching Bugs Bunny cartoons when I was a kid (remember the Rabbit of Seville? Classic.)

It was about an hour's drive each way. plus two operas and a lunch stop. I was wiped out. I'm not sure which was more tiring - the uplifting themes of banishment, suicide, greedy relatives and corpse abuse or listening to teenage boys talk for two hours (dude, really?)

I came home with a horrendous headache and I was unable to keep my eyes open past suppertime. The good news is that I'm fully awake now, and can tell you all about Boston.

Since I had been at the dogsled race for Friday, and came home very late that night, I went down to Boston first thing on Saturday morning. We all met at my friends' house in North Reading and carpooled to the TD Banknorth Garden for the Bruins game. We had the highest possible seats (the only place the purchaser could get 12 seats together) and I was a little creeped out at first - that last section of stairs was pretty darn steep, and I admit to a little fear of heights. After a bit, though, I got used to it, and we could see everything going on perfectly.

Here's the view from my seat. I left my camera at the dogsled race, so I have only this picture from my cell phone.

We had an amazing time, and the Bruins won, so all was right with the world. GO BRUINS!

Last week, when I mentioned that I was going to Boston for the game, one of my blog readers, Lisa from The Life and Times of Lisa, mentioned that she was going to be there, also. She was good enough to tell me the section that she would be sitting in with her family, and told me to look for her kids, who would be wearing Bruins jerseys with Kessel and Bergeron on them. At that point, I had no idea where our seats were, as my friends had the actual tickets. When I got to the garden, I was amazed to find that we were sitting in the section directly next to the one she was in. I spent every spare moment searching the section for her, but no luck. I saw lots of Bruins jerseys, but not the right ones.

I was walking out, after the game, when my friend (who had heard me complain about not being able to find her) said, "Hey, those kids are wearing Kessel and Bergeron." I ran down the stairs (fear of heights be damned) just as they were disappearing around the corner, and I shouted "LISA!" thinking, 'if this isn't her, this woman is going to call security on me' or, worse, 'this is her and she'll think I'm a total nut job!'

It WAS her, and she didn't think I was a nut job - well, at least she didn't SAY so. She turned out to be just as nice as she could be, with a lovely - and patient - family.

Lisa is from Vermont, and has a great attitude about life, which is why I like her blog. The first think I noticed on her blog was a quote that said, in part, 'Live with intention. Walk to the edge. Play with abandon.' I loved it, and I grew to love her positive way of looking at things and her daily gratitude journal. Go on over and check her out - and next time we're headed to watch the Bruins kick some ass, you should come along!

Lisa's son was nice enough to take our picture - again with my cell phone. I have my eyes closed, and this is definitely not my best angle (don't my boobs look HUGE? Well, they are big - not quite as big as they look in this pic...) but I wanted you to see how adorable she is. We managed to chat all the way out of the building, and I was absolutely thrilled. What a small blog world it is!

My friends and I spent the rest of the day walking around Boston. Not the best thing for my broken foot (damn you, cobblestone streets!) but I didn't care. It was above 50 degrees, sunny, and I was with some of the funnest people on the planet. We ate cannoli's from the North End Bakery and window-shopped and people-watched and laughed ourselves silly. Some of us stayed in North Reading overnight (pizza and movies) and then our hostess made these spectacular Belgian waffles with every conceivable topping for breakfast.

It was a wonderful time, and I managed to forget all about the things that trouble me for a while. I think a little respite from my stresses was exactly what I needed, and I think I need to schedule more of these little breaks into my life. I can't afford a big fancy vacation, but that isn't what I need. What I need is to do more things with people that make me feel happy. If I was a resolution-making kind of person, I think that would be mine.

Note to self: Spend more time with people who make you laugh.

Back in Black

2009-03-16T18:42:00.002-04:00

I'm back! I missed everybody. I got back late yesterday, and haven't had a minute to myself since then. I had a job interview today, and I've got a deadline for some consulting work I've been doing, so I haven't had time to blog for real (and won't until tomorrow night), but I promise that I will do it sometime tomorrow.

I had a great time in Boston, and had an amazing chance encounter with a fellow blogger that I can't wait to tell you about.

I see that you were all able to go forward with your own blogs while I was away. I was hoping you'd all take a break, so that I wouldn't be so far behind in what's going on in your worlds! Maybe we should coordinate our vacations?

Eight Days A Week

2009-03-11T21:10:00.002-04:00

This had been that kind of week. Busy, frantic, full of things you have to do, rather than things you want to do. I will be away from my blog for a few days, and (gasp!) won't even be able to READ your blogs. I may just have withdrawal symptoms, so if anyone has a prescription for Valium, please feel free to send me a couple.

Before I tell you where I'm going, I first want to tell you how wonderful your comments have been. After I got that miserable email, I really did feel horrible. I know I shouldn't let that one anonymous person get to me, but that proved impossible. Even though it hurt, your incredibly supportive comments helped more than you could possible know. I loved each and every one of them. They were funny and smart, just like they always are, and each time I read a new one, the bad feeling got pushed a little bit farther away. If you haven't read them, you should go back and check them out. Really amazing.

I mentioned to a couple of people this week that I should just quit blogging about my own issues and just post a topic and let you all discuss it. Your comments are so often funnier and more clever than anything I ever say. Maybe my talent lies is finding things that inspire you!

We are packing up and leaving for a big race. The race is one of the rare three-day races, and thus we must travel Thursday. I am driving about 3 and a half hours tomorrow afternoon, and then will be at the race on Friday. Then, I'm abandoning the kids to race the rest of the weekend while I drive 6 hours to Boston for a Saturday Boston Bruins game. I am a huge hockey fan, and this is a dream opportunity to see them live, FOR FREE! I was given the ticket and will be going there with a big group of people that I really enjoy spending time with. I will be home sometime on Sunday, and that will be the first time I'll be able to check on my blog buddies.

I'm used to be connected to the internet at almost all times, so this is going to be a hard four days, but I will be having fun, so I should be okay. I'm thinking about trying to make contact with my birth mother again, so next week I'll be looking for your advice (again - I know, I take advantage of you!)

I hope you all have a nice weekend with lots of time to do those things that make you happy.

Mean Old World

2009-03-09T22:06:00.003-04:00

Blindsided. Totally blindsided. That's how I felt.

I had managed to (sort of) forget all about the increasingly frustrating wait for some response from my birth mother. I sent off the letter, and planned to give her some space. Of course, I was starting to think it was time to send her another note, but still, I was learning patience.

I had even gotten to the point that I didn't think about it every minute. This is a busy time of year, and I'm job hunting, too, so I have lots to keep me busy. It isn't like I think about being adopted, and all the feelings that go along with it, all the time. There are many moments - most moments - when I'm just doing what I have to do, what we all have to do to be in the world.

Then, out of the blue, TWICE IN ONE DAY, something jumped up and punched me right in the gut. One was small and not anyone's fault. The other one - not so much.

I was watching a movie. It was just a movie - a Hallmark Channel movie - and it wasn't really about anything that should have affected me. I had even checked out the plot on IMDB and made sure there were no dying children or tortured animals. Yes, I actually do this - checking out movies ahead of time - and I won't apologize for it. I have been burned by movies that have made me feel so badly for DAYS afterward, and I can't deal with it. My real life is challenging enough;I'm looking for happy endings, people, so sue me.

Anyway, this movie had a freakish sub-plot that involved a woman who had given up a child for adoption, and was oddly reunited with her as an adult. For some reason, the whole thing just got to me. I was crying hysterically, and I don't do that (especially since I pre-check all movies for stuff that might cause sobbing!) It was awful.

So, a couple of hours later, I was just starting to feel a bit normal again, and went to my kitchen computer to check my email. There was an email from someone whose address I didn't recognize, which is not that unusual, since my email address is listed here on my blog. I clicked it open, and the hatefulness that spilled forth was almost indescribable.

I'm not going to give you all the gory details, but I will tell you it was from someone who thinks I'm doing a terrible thing by looking for my birth mother, and especially by attempting to make contact with her. This person feels that I have no right to any information about my origins and essentially said that I was an ungrateful degenerate. According to this email, I was lucky to be adopted in the first place, and, by seeking out my birth family, I was disrespecting the parents who raised me. It went on to say that by contacting my biological mother, that I would be trying to ruin her life, as I probably had ruined my adoptive parents' lives by being so ungrateful.

Wow. It's been a long time since anyone has said anything so hateful to me. It was written with such venom, that, even though I don't agree with anything that was said, it still stung. Even though I have no respect for someone who would send that kind of thing anonymously, the fact that someone - anyone - thinks this way does hurt. I know, by writing a blog, that I am putting myself out there for people to judge if they want. I've been so overwhelmed by the support you've shown that I almost forgot that what I'm doing is still a bit controversial. Today I was reminded.

I still think I have a right to know about where I came from. I don't think I have demonstrated anything but love and respect for my parents - my real parents, the ones who raised me - and I think, if they were alive today they would support me in this quest. Rather than being ungrateful, I am the opposite. I am filled with thankfulness both for the difficult decision my birth mother made to give me up, and for the loving arms of my parents which opened wide to accept me into their family. It's hard to explain, but there has been a feeling inside me for a long time, a yearning to know that I couldn't ignore. There's also a need to know medical information for myself and for my own children.

I have no way of knowing who the mystery emailer is, but if their goal was to make me stop searching, they have failed in their mission. Although hurtful, it doesn't change what I believe.

It does make me slightly less anxious to open emails from people I don't know.

My Girl

2009-03-07T07:59:00.003-05:00

So many of you commented about my dog Bliss yesterday, I thought you might like to see her. Normally, her ears are up, like a shepherd's, but when she's 'talking to you' or wants to be petted, this is what she does. One of the other reasons I love her is that she's the gentlest dog I've ever known. She seems to have an innate ability to sense how to act around people. If you're a dog person, she'll be very playful with you, and will even jump up on you if invited. If you're not comfortable around dogs, or you're a child, she'll stop moving around, and stand very quietly for you to pet her. I always take Bliss with me to any demonstration we do, especially at schools. She tags along with me pretty much anywhere I go. She's my girl.

Friday Fragments

2009-03-06T03:00:00.002-05:00

This is my first official Friday Fragments post. Basically, it's a conglomeration of thoughts, stuff that by itself might be too short for a whole post of its own. Random stuff, basically. I know, that's what a lot of my posts are, but this time it's on PURPOSE. See the distinction?

I got the idea from Mrs. 4444 over at Half Past Kissing Time, who has a fabulously popular blog. I might just do it every Friday. We'll see how long my attention span turns out to be...

I take two medicines daily - for high blood pressure - and have for many years. They seem to work just fine, and they are the tiniest pills you could imagine, and cheap, thank heaven. I get 90 days supply at a time, in the smallest prescription bottle there is, and they don't even take up one-quarter of the bottle. Yesterday, I went to get my refill, and the package they gave me had something much larger, and rectangular-shaped, in it. When I got home, I found that they had given me 3 one-month blister-packages. The kind where each pill can be popped out through the foil. And the days are marked on them. So I push through Monday's pill, and can tell I already took it; and then on Tuesday, I push through Tuesday's pill. Fine, but why the change? Is it my age? Did the phamacist see my refill request and say to himself, "wow, she's old and she probably can't remember whether she took her pill every day. I better give her the old people pack"????????????????

All this talk about personal freedom has got me to thinking. I'm all for freedom. I cherish it, in fact, and thanks to those who have defended my liberty with their lives. Personal freedom seems to refer to something else - the freedom to be yourself, to be who you really are. This sounds good, too, until someone uses it as an excuse to hurt someone, to show utter disregard for others, to break the laws of decency. I guess what I mean is, that it's wonderful to be who you are. Unless who you are is a jerk. Then it's not so good.

One of the keys on my laptop squeaks when I press it. It only just started doing this a couple of days ago, and already I'm crazed from it. I've actually tried to think about skipping that letter - just not using any words that require it. Unfortunately, it's impossible - it's the letter T. In the previous two sentences, I used the T somewhere around 20 or more times. ARGGGH. Hey, I can type argggh without using the T.

Does anyone know why pineapple juice comes in cans instead of glass or plastic? One of my sons loves pineapple juice and will drink it in massive quantities. But it comes in non-resealable containers. This bugs the crap out of me. I have to open it with one of those old fashioned triangle can openers, and then empty the contents into a separate plastic container. Every other juice on the planet comes in plastic bottles with screw-top lids. What's with you, pineapple?

I have one dog who lives in the house a lot of the time. Her name is Bliss and she's a shepherd/husky mix. She is a bit too old to race on our pro teams, but she used to be an awesome leader, and still is our number one puppy trainer. Sometimes we lend her to people who want a really safe dog for their child's first race. Bliss is housebroken, obedience trained, doesn't eat the cats, and I love her to pieces. She keeps me company a lot these days. She understands everything I say. No, really, she does. Anyway, one of the things I love about her is that, every time I let her out to go potty, she runs down to the dog yard to play with her offspring. Her puppies are 10 months old now, and just about full grown. Most sled dogs are no longer interested in their puppies after weaning, but not Bliss. She loves them. Forever. We sold a dog (one of her puppies from a litter 5 years ago) to another racing team, and every time Bliss sees this dog at a race, she has to go love on her. I feel the exact same way about my kids.

Just Another Picture to Burn

2009-03-05T10:01:00.004-05:00

Still busy today (working on a fun post for tomorrow) so I'm offering you another picture of me to mock. This was taken about 20 years ago at Pemaquid Light. It's a beautiful spot, not far from where I grew up, on the rocky coast of Maine. There's a lighthouse and amazing rock formations that you can climb on. I used to take a blanket, a book and a picnic lunch and spend the day. You could find these nooks, where a perfect smooth sitting spot had been carved out by millions of years of waves crashing, and just soak up the sun and the sound of surf and think, or read, or daydream. I loved it, and I took the kids there a lot when they were younger.

This is my firstborn. I remember how much fun it was to watch him discover all the things you could find there: driftwood, periwinkles, sand, smooth beach glass, hermit crabs and the whole ocean with its waves and lobster boats and catamarans. It was like seeing it all for the first time through his eyes. There's something really special about the ocean.

And, yes, that was a perm. A big one. I know, I know, but in my defense, it gets very humid on the coast. And it was the 80's.

Take a Picture

2009-03-04T08:54:00.007-05:00

I have a lot to do today, and not much time to blog, so I thought you might enjoy seeing what's happening in the great white North. Here are a few pictures I took in the last few days.

If you've ever wondered what it's like to take care of 33 sled dogs in the middle of a blizzard - this is it.

Alex, who was home for a snow day from school on Monday, didn't get to laze around in his pj's all day like the other kids. He had to feed and water the dogs - carrying 5 gallon buckets of 'slop' through deep snow. Doesn't that sound like fun?

This might be when he realized that he still had to shovel out all the paths, gates, doghouses and fences. Or that could be his 'quit taking my picture, Mom' face. Luckily, he's wearing that fleece face shield, and I can't see it.

Who knew that if you take an old soccer sock, tie a couple of knots in it, and give it to the wieners, they can have fun for hours? These are Hallie's dogs, Fenway (left) and Chauncey.

Hallie was very brave to put her hand in there! Look! It's flying wieners! Oh my gosh, was it fun to watch them play tug of war. Wieners are so cool. Even if you can't tell the difference between when they're standing and when they're sitting. Love you, my sweet Chauncey-man.

You've Got a Friend

2009-03-03T08:13:00.003-05:00

The alternate title of this blog was "I WIN!!! I WIN!!! I WIN!!!" but I decided that wasn't really dignified, so I changed it. I was lucky to receive this lovely friend award from Lori, whose blog is saved in my favorites as Owed to Joy, but the current blog title is Owed to Something More Than My Constant Whining. I'm delighted, I'm honored, I am not worthy.

I love what this blog stands for: "These blogs are exceedingly charming. These kind bloggers aim to be friends. They are not interested in self-aggrandizement. Our hope is that when the ribbons of these prizes are cut, even more friendships are propagated. Please give more attention to these kind writers."

Isn't that wonderful? I appreciate it especially because I love reading Lori's blog - she is funny and real. Along with me, the award also went to some of my favorite bloggers - heck, some of my favorite PEOPLE: Hallie from Wonderful World of Wieners, Kim-D from Lifeafter and Kimmy from Tales of a Blender Kimmy. What exquisite company I find myself in today!

I have been offered a couple of other awards previously, but I didn't really do anything with them. I was still feeling so...NEW, I guess? People have been blogging forever, and seem to have a really good grasp on how it all works. I'm still learning, and I know I have a long way to go. Yet, when I read what this award was about, I had to accept it. Finding friends through a blog is something I was very skeptical about initially, but I was totally wrong, and happy to admit it.

I've connected with people as demographically and geographically diverse as you could possible imagine through the blogosphere. People in other countries, other climates. other cultures. Only a very few very special people in my real flesh-and-blood life read my blog. I'm not hiding it, but I don't advertise it, either. This is a place where I am sometimes very vulnerable, and I'm not in a hurry for everyone to know all my secrets. The beauty of the friends I've made through the blog is that whole 'unconditional acceptance' thing. It's very comforting.

I love how, in the Blogosphere, somebody else always agrees with you - or at least understands why you feel that way. You might think you are the last pathetic human being on the planet who eats red meat, or watches the Bachelor, or is terrified of rodents, or wants to throttle their loving children. But you're not. You're not alone out here. I think that's why blogs and Facebook and other such places are so popular. Nobody really wants to be alone in this increasingly isolated world we live in. Here is where we can share our hopes and fears and embarassing moments.

I've seen people rally around someone in need, do amazingly thoughtful things for one another and put a powerful prayer chain into motion when necessary. It's nice here.I like it.

I'm supposed to award this to eight other bloggers, but how can I? I love you all, for different reasons! I'm going to try to figure out how to put one of those 'my favorite blogs' things up on my sidebar. When I do, check any of them out and you won't be disappointed. Or just read my commenters. They are often much smarter and funnier than I am - just imagine how great their blogs are!

Thanks, Lori. You made my day.

Good Morning, Starshine

2009-03-02T06:54:00.003-05:00

Well, the grand State of Maine woke to more snow this morning. School is cancelled. Again. I can't remember the last time Alex had to go to school for a whole week in a row. I wish it meant that I got some extra sleep, but it doesn't, as I am the one who gets up to check on school cancellations at 5:00, so that I can cancel the alarm and let him sleep in. He's tired from racing this weekend, so these Monday storms are perfectly okay with him. The forecast is for around 12 inches. Is it sad that my first thought was 'at least it's not two feet'?

I played around with my blog yesterday. A really sweet blog friend, Abby Reed, made this new header for me (quite a while ago) and I finally figured out how to put it up on my blog. Abby is a multi-talented gal, a hard worker, a huge animal lover and has a clever blog name. Thanks, Abby!

I have a house full of guests again, and it looks like they're snowed in for the day and night. One of the challenges of dog sled season is all the extra overnight visitors. I know it's just part of the deal, but still, it can be difficult sharing space in my house with 5 or 6 or 10 extra people every week or so. The worst part is that I don't feel like I can finish a thought in a houseful of people all talking at once. I've come to enjoy my blogging time, because it's my 'thinking time' and I miss it. I have big, important thoughts to think and write, after all...Okay, maybe I don't, but that's really not the point.

I'm also making plans for a giveaway. If I ever make it to 100 posts, I will have a real contest, but in the meantime, I'm having a SUPER SECRET GIVEAWAY. Unfortunately for you, I'm not telling you how to enter. This giveaway is strictly for my own amusement, and so I made up the rules and decided to keep them a secret. I have identified a certain comment that I might hear from one of my fabulously smart commenters, and the first person who makes this particular observation, WINS.

See how fun this will be? For ME, I mean? You can't do anything to enter, except go on commenting, just like always. If anybody ever spills the super-secret phrase/sentence/observation, they'll be a winner. It's like a game that only I will know we're playing! Well, I'll be the only one who knows the rules. Genius! And there's even a prize. Which is also a secret.

You may think I've lost my mind - and you'd be correct - but isn't one of the purposes of blogging to amuse oneself? And, in case you're wondering, pointing out that I am certifiably nuts is NOT the secret observation. Sorry.

Walk on by

2009-02-27T03:00:00.002-05:00

I decided to try an experiment. I left my computer on and open to a blank word document, and every time I went by, I typed what I was thinking at that moment. It’s an old trick from my English major days – used to help get the creative juices flowing. So that’s what this is – my thoughts as I passed by.

There’s a big difference between lesser-known celebrities and well-known-for-being-sleazy celebs. Especially when it comes to reality television.

Dieting is simple. Not complicated. There are a couple of basic rules. 1. If you take in less calories than you burn, you’ll lose weight. 2. Eating a variety healthy foods (whole grains, fruits, vegetables, lean meat, good fats) is better for you. The problem is not that losing weight is complicated – it’s that it’s hard. Not fun. Takes will power. Means you have to exercise more and eat less Ring Dings. All this talk about specialized dieting (more carbs, less carbs, all protein, more fat, no fat, no sugar, nothing you chew) is making me crazy.

Speaking of Ring Dings – I love them. They are so much better than Ding Dongs. And they come in twin packs! I really can’t have them in the house. Kinda like somebody I know can’t have Hostess cupcakes around. Right, Hallie?

Why is it that when you usually have to wait at least five minutes to pull out of your driveway because of traffic, that the one time there is no traffic anywhere in sight and can pull out immediately, that you only get half a mile down the street and remember something you left behind and have to go back?

Businesses with drive-up services are awesome when you have trouble walking. Why isn’t there a drive-through grocery store around here?

Why is it that when you go to the store for eggs and milk, that you come home with $50 worth of groceries, but no eggs?

People who work at gas stations and banks and redemption centers who have doggie biscuits in their pockets for their canine visitors are awesome.

I love the smell of clean laundry. I’m a regular-scent Snuggle gal. I like to breathe in the lovely smell when the laundry is still warm. Mmmm.

Why is it that when you decide, finally, to cut your hair, after it’s been driving you crazy for weeks, and has looked like crap every single day, and you make the appointment to get it done - that day your hair comes out perfectly and ten different people mention that your hair looks great?

I have to remember to mention - for those who asked or wondered - Yes, I WAS shoveling out my gas grill so as to USE IT. We grill year round up here. There is no other acceptable way to cook a steak, in my opinion, so we just suck it up. I've been out there in my nightgown, with boots and a parka. It's just what we do.

Wasn't there a song about little things meaning a lot? There are a bunch of little things that can make a world of difference in my life: cleaning my computer screen (who knew you were all so pretty?), a shower, ibuprofen, fresh sheets, a phone call from a friend, funny blog entries or friendly comments. Maybe it’s all I need – to focus on the little things that are so satisfying, and leave the big stuff to those who are more qualified to deal with it.

Lady sings the blues

2009-02-26T03:00:00.001-05:00

Melancholy is my mood today. I am feeling a tad discouraged.

I’m still unemployed, and I shouldn’t be. I’m talented and smart and a college graduate. I should have an awesome job by now.

I haven’t heard from my birth mother, and I thought I would by now. It’s been weeks. She should call me. Or write me. Or at least send some medical information.

I’m laid up and can’t walk (don’t ask!) and I hate being stuck at home on the couch. I need to be out and about, distracting myself from my own misery with people and activity.

But I can’t. So, in typical ME fashion, I’ve decided to avoid thinking about the whole mess. I am watching everything on my DVR – hours and hours of shows I recorded to watch some time when I had a minute. Well, I have a minute. I have lots of minutes.

I did a jigsaw puzzle. I love puzzles, and have several of them in the closet, waiting for time to put them together. Well, I have time to put them together.

I knitted some really nice socks with soft gray Alpaca yarn and started knitting a ribbon scarf with some funky ribbon yarn I got from the dollar store. Hey, I know what you’re thinking – alpaca yarn and cheapo dollar store yarn are very different, but that’s me – a real renaissance woman. I’m sure I mentioned it before.

I read three books in the last week. One was beautiful fiction, one was an amazing true story, and one was kinda trashy. I won’t tell you which one I liked the most.

I joined Facebook. I really think I am too old to be on Facebook, but I have secured a promise from Hallie that she will teach me everything I need to know. Maybe she can teach me how to seem younger while she’s at it.

I’ve been going through old photos – kind of an ongoing project to rescue my pictures from those horrible albums with the sticky pages and plastic sheets that they didn’t warn us about a hundred years ago. If I had known those nifty albums would eat my pictures, I would never have put them in there in the first place! Anyway, I’ve re-discovered some terrific family photos, and the memories to go with them. You’ll probably get to see a few of them now and again.

I’ll leave you with this photo of me, back when life was simple. When there were no piles of snow to shovel off the roof. No wonder I’m smiling!