Finding Wiz

How to waste 24 hours in 24 hours.

2012-03-06T21:59:00.001-05:00

Richard was gone for the night. I had 24 hours. Here's how I wasted it in photographs. Bad, point and shoot photographs. Read on if you'd like to waste 2-4 minutes.

Saturday afternoon. One-day sale. Well, that must mean the deals are EXTRA great, right? So, yes, I went to the mall. But I only entered Macy's. I was hunting for bread pans, actually, but first I tried on every clearance dress or top in my size. Depressing, then ridiculous, kind of hot and sweaty. No sale. I then checked out shoes (see below). Loaf pans were very non-climactic at that point. Also no sale. I stopped at the grocery store on my way home to get the rest of the bread ingredients, plus dinner. Roses for myself.

I grilled my coffee shop sandwich at home, had some computer time.

Played with the cat.

Finally got a text that included an invitation for the evening.

Off to visit Scott and Sara. Cats were explained.

Hats were put on cats.

Then, we went to the bar and tried hats on people.

Morning view. It's Sunday now.

Time to work on the bread.

Yes, it looks doughy and small now, but just wait! This should double in size and make a delicious fluffy oatmeal bread.

Any time now.....

12 hours later... I gave up and baked it.

It's an oatmeal brick. It tastes a little doughy (surprise!) and alcoholic. It's very solid and full of fiber, though. No empty calories here.

I do wish I had wasted my 24 hours a little more productively. (You are missing the photos of a craft project and some attempts at choreography. You should feel very lucky.) But I don't really have regrets. Puttering and socializing are my two favorite hobbies.

Why I Am Always Right

2012-02-26T20:53:00.001-05:00

Mostly because you've convinced me. Or I've convinced myself that you've convinced me. But I'm trying to avoid living in cognitive dissonance any longer. Than necessary. Yes, more weasel words. Because I also know that I will fail.

But the goal is to try again, yes? Yes.

For example, I got sucked into one of those horrible female marketing pyramid schemes that are prevalent in the workplace for women's products. (I don't mean to sound so gender specific, but I don't believe that they sell, say, tools this way. Just jewelry, candles, "home decor", etc.) I thought I knew what I was getting into, wanted to be "supportive" to a co-worker in what seemed like a harmless way, so she could have her spot on the pyramid. Yes, I know it was going to cost me some money. But I like jewelry, right?

In the end, I'm disgusted and embarrassed and willing to say it public so I don't do it again. I don't need any jewelry. This jewelry, in fact, sucks. I could get the same thing at, say, Steinmart, for much less money. In addition, I had blacked out the "Christian-based" background of this particular company, so I had to sit through some very annoying use of the word "blessed". AND THEN I hung around eating crackers for too long, so I also got to hear the "mother" sales figure inform the "daughter" sales figure that she never emphasizes the fact that the more money the customer spends, the more they can send to "mission". So yes, I just bought some ugly cheap jewelry I don't need to support Christian missionaries I don't support in theory.

I state this in public because I know that at least one more co-worker will have a "party". I must stay strong! I would like to be nice about it, but I'm no longer convinced. I would love to try on jewelry at a friend's house. But it should be nice jewelry. There should be no incentive to purchase more, or host further parties. The transaction should end when everyone feels satisfied.

And here is where I give away an idea: what if I hosted a jewelry party (or you, because ideas of free)?Gather all of your jewelry making friends and offer them a table at your house for an evening to display the sparkles. Then, invite all of your other friends to shop from them. Make some snacks. Ask each jeweler to leave a piece for the hostess. All other business is between the jeweler and the customer. There's no presentation. Snacks and wine flow freely. Everyone feels like they went to an actual party, and not a sales presentation. Wouldn't that be better?

Anyway, at least I discovered the You Are Not So Smart blog (linked in the first paragraph on the "convinced"). So I know I'm not crazy.

How to run if you're an adult with exercise issues

2012-02-12T19:47:00.003-05:00

Put one foot in front of the other. Repeat. Faster.

Just kidding. There's only slightly more to it, though. I feel like it's a good writing subject because it's really in your mind.

And just now, I realized I still worry about whether I am allowed to call myself a runner. I run low mileage, very slowly. Does that count? I think it counts as long as I continue to run very slowly for less than an hour at least once a month.

So here's how it started: I ran until I couldn't anymore. Sadly, this sometimes was only for a block or less. I then walked until I felt like I could run some more. Even more sadly, I spent all my walking time telling myself what a loser I was for not being able to run. Although this was not exactly ideal, it was at least getting my ass out the door. The iPod was crucial. A dead iPod battery canceled the run. This period was five years. No, I am not joking.

But I began to run for longer periods of time. So when the opportunity came to sign up for the "run camp" came around, I did my usual, "Sure! I have no idea what I'm signing up for, but otherwise I'll never do it" response. And as I have written previously, it served its purpose.

The positive running is working so much better for me. I ran yesterday, with the phrase, "I draw from resources within" as the theme, and despite the snow and 17 degrees, it was a wonderful, sunny two miles with excellent tunes. I am running two days a week, alternating between 3 mile and 2 mile runs. If I am feeling ambitious, I might add a long day in there, like a 4 or 5 mile run. But that's it. I'm not looking to destroy my knees, a race, a time, or anything else. I want to be able to do this, but not to the extinction of anything else I am doing.

So that's how to run. You're not a super athlete. Take it easy on yourself.

Lost in la-la land.

2012-02-06T20:45:00.002-05:00

Sorry there's been no post lately. I got lost.

Fluffy kittens!

2012-02-02T17:19:00.001-05:00

I figured I'd better post something cute, since I just poked the bee's nest on facebook. Mr. Awesome in the window, awwwww! Look how cute!

But really, I didn't do anything all that horrible. I need to simmer down. It really is okay for me to have an opinion. I'm just uncomfortable because I usually keep them under wraps. (I was just joking to Richard yesterday that no one knows when I disapprove of their decisions. It's a secret. Heck, sometimes I don't even know until I think about it.)

I guess that's why people are generally afraid or dismissive of those who post online (anywhere, really). How dare we say things that are not agreeable to all? I suppose it's no shock to those 563 "friends" that I have opinions. And I'm not really ashamed to say out loud that I don't see what the problem with stem cell research could be. Those embryos are a collection of cells, not humans. There. I said it. Flame me.

But it's been 41 minutes and nothing bad has happened. Perhaps nothing bad will ever happen. Maybe something good might happen, or someone will look at an issue from another perspective. I don't want to explore the most quoted opinion analogy (you know, like assholes, blah blah blah) because I don't really like to think about that kind of stuff. Maybe they're more like hammers, or coffee tables (I like coffee! I like tables!). Everyone has got a hammer. Don't bonk people over the head with them, but nails are good to go. Not quite as catchy, but therefore not a cliche?

A.D.B.D.

2012-01-29T12:21:00.000-05:00

Because I suffer from A.D.H.D. (Attention Deficit Hobby Disorder), this blog also has a problem (Attention Deficit Blog Disorder). I see the focus, but can anyone else?

I think the focus is that lots of things are interesting. In theory, ALL things are interesting if you pay attention to them. Attention and interest are almost the same thing, yes?

So, in that interest, allow me to update you on a few developments.

Positive Running: I ran a 5k yesterday, in the snow, through a Christmas tree farm and the rail trail. I tried to take a picture from my phone, but I had filled the memory card, and I was supposed to be running. The affirmation was "I am so lucky to be able to do this. What a beautiful day!". Or, between pants, "So lucky! Beautiful day!" I have no idea what my time was, and that's just fine. In fact, it might actually be the way to run.

Walk this Way: While running, I found my experiments in walking to be extra useful! The trail was "groomed" with snowmobiles, but this still left some deep snow areas. I found that by landing on my toe I could bound through these areas much easier. At work, I've softened my approach also. Heel-toe does work better for flats, but toe-heel is great in heels, and makes less of a racket. I would like to build a better habit of walking to dance class (which would theoretically make my walking during dance class toe-heel also), so that's the next experiment. (Related: Joette says we should get SALSA HEELS for the Greek Festival dance performance!!!)

Keeping on: I actually feel pretty good about my goals this year so far. I have figured out I need at minimum $2,000 to go on the trip I may want this year, which would mean saving $166 a month. I have been running, and I found a sneaky way to make it fun. I've been blogging as scheduled. I did a few home projects that made me happy. And it was not a struggle. It was FUN!

But we're only 30 days in. So hang tough. Hang loose. Hang out.

Positive running

2012-01-25T21:47:00.000-05:00

I had one of those crazy shower thoughts that seems brilliant while you're wet, and still makes sense later too. I would like to live my life believing that the ideas that make you smile and feel fizzy are the good ones. So I'm going for it.

I have done the local "Run Camp" program for the last two winters. You meet with a group of people (there are hundreds signed up) who run your same pace every Saturday, get a little education session, and go for a run. They give you a training program, support, snacks, leader, etc. The first year I was super-literal (surprise!) about the program, but was probably assigned to a group that ran too fast for me (but I was assigned! they were MY group!). I felt the healthiest I'd ever felt, and yet, the whole program ended with me having my thyroid removed for tumors. (It was certainly not a cause and effect situation, but it was a bit defeating.)

The second year I was better matched with a group, but I'd lost that literal feeling, so I didn't do as well. I basically found that I said horrible things to myself as I ran. Although the running was getting "done", my ego was freaking out and fighting with that other person(???) and the other insisted that I walk when overly winded, or bored, or whatever. The reward for not quitting was NOT being the last one in, which wasn't necessarily within my control, depending on whether the woman with the knee injury had showed up that particular morning. (Also, SATURDAY morning. So unkind.)

So I'd decided not to do it this year, and I felt good about that decision. I was still going to run (and probably even run the race that the camp was training them all to run), but I wasn't going to torture myself again.

But running is magic! It's the way to self-actualization! If you are a runner, you are the epitome of health and devotion and zen. I knew there had to be a better way.

My better way is this. I call it Positive Running.

1. Follow the plan, but chant an affirmation. You don't have to literally chant, but I want to have a positive thought in mind. Today's alternated between "It's fun to run!" and "I run to take care of my body."

2. Rewards. I am (pathetically) motivated by pretty nails and extra internet time. In the longer term, I can get books for my e-reader. In the longest term, I will get some fancy-ass John Fluevog shoes. And that's the whole plan. It seemed more detailed in the shower.....

one day service

2012-01-18T19:01:00.000-05:00

I like to read it like it's a promise - one day, Service. It's one of the sights that made me instantly happy. This neon had been dark for so long.

It's also the last picture I've uploaded. September 2011. I have more on my camera (the afore-mentioned NOLA pics, some bands, etc.) I love to take pictures. I'm not sure what the blockage is all about.

ONE day service. Maybe that's the approach. It's just one day. Take some pictures, share them. Do it again some other day. One.

Or maybe this is a picture about Paris. Get your ducks in a row, lady duck, and fly to Paris. (It's funny how the ducks came in there - this cleaner is near the creek, where the geese and ducks like to land / gather / fish.) You know you want to go back.

All of these things together make it the picture of motivation. Service, One, Paris, that fluorescent light on inside, the dusky sky, pulling the car into the parking lot and taking this picture spontaneously. That is what I would like to remember.

Black and white

2012-01-15T20:21:00.001-05:00

I know it's best not to get into these things, but I did it anyway. I got in the facebook comment argument with an old high school friend and total strangers, about an issue that I don't really care about, to illustrate a principle. Which, when I think about it, makes it a total circular argument, since the crappy "informational graphic" that started the whole thing was probably more about principle than fact relay.

For being such a "literal" thinker, I don't have the black and white vision. I can always see it both ways and I always like the freakonomics angle better. I have a tendency to argue that the weather really isn't that horrible, that it was actually quite sunny, even though it was bitter cold. Is this optimism or just to be "contrary", as my parents used to call it? I don't know.

And I suppose the reason I got all worked about a facebook post was because of logical fallacy (again. See the post about Gender Blender, which turned out to be the fallacy of false dichotomy). It was that one about the "Salary for Life" of various government positions. Number one, the salary figures were incorrect. And the call to action was about "where the cuts should be made". So, I guess we have the argument from fallacy (since the argument is false, the conclusion MUST be false).

But really, I think they just haven't thought all the grey areas. So how would one compensate a public official? If you paid them less, would they still need to relocate to the Washington area? Or would you only attract independently wealthy candidates? (One could argue we are already doing that based on campaign finance requirements.) Wouldn't paying them for life keep them out of lobbyist field, which would seem like a good thing?

So that's what I did with my Sunday night. I threw it away thinking about gluten-free diets and logical fallacies.

I love Jimmy Carter.

2012-01-12T17:56:00.001-05:00

Don't all belly dancing health care performance improvement coordinators recovered from thyroid cancer? I mean, I can't think of one that does not. And I don't want to know how anyone could not.

I have always loved Jimmy Carter. I remember very angrily pointing out (as a 10 year old) that Ronald Reagan did NOTHING to get those hostages released, because he'd only been president for like, 2 minutes. Jimmy Carter had a daughter who my around my age. He wore cardigans (I WEAR CARDIGANS NOW!). We have so much in common.

Every now and then (or at minimum, every Sunday and Wednesday as I blog), I wonder what is the purpose of my life. I try and figure out how Jimmy Carter works into that. For a while, I thought it might be Habitat for Humanity. I've always wanted to learn some of those handy skills.

Then I thought just meeting him would be enough. But why would he meet me? What would I say?

On the way home tonight, I started thinking about public speaking and democracy. I am just as reluctant to perform a public speech as any other mumbler with a terrible accent. (But Jimmy Carter has an accent too!) I've also ruled out public service an any elected capacity based on my background. But election monitoring is the coolest thing ever. Somehow, speaking and election monitoring go together in my crazy brain. And for once, I'm putting it out there instead of mulling it over in my head forever until it gets all muddled. What do you think? Is this my future, going on and on about election monitoring at public drinking establishments? Or is there more to it than that?

Makeover

2012-01-08T21:50:00.002-05:00

I just finished hemming the curtains for the big living room makeover. What's next?

The funny part is, I don't think anyone who has ever been here would even notice the difference. It's kind of like how no one ever notices the pink walls, or when they turned pink. The furniture is in the exact same constellation. The couch is still bright green. There's still a tall lamp in the window, two smaller vintage lamps (that Richard almost gave away to Goodwill!!!) on the same side tables.

BUT THE RUG IS TOTALLY DIFFERENT.

This is amazing because the former rug we bought on our honeymoon 18 years ago. It has been in the center of every seating arrangement we have ever had (which would be all of two, by the way). The corner was getting a little chewed up, though. We freely allowed Mr. Awesome to go to claw-town on whenever he desired, in case destruction could entice us to update. We'd been looking at rugs for a while, but nothing was affordable / desirable.

I saw some nice, reasonably-priced rugs at our lovely Marshall's and pointed it out to Richard. He finally moseyed over to look at them this week. We found a Oriental-style rug (although it was more than the other rugs, but not as much as the rugs we had liked in the past) and brought it home.

It looked great with the couch. But then the curtains didn't look right anymore. Too busy. So we went to Ikea (which is kind of a road trip and anxiety attack / divorce trigger in our reality, but we survived) and got some new curtains.

It is quite lovely. I want to see it in the afternoon light (it's nighttime now). I want to take an afternoon nap. I want to have some people over.

And I want to do more. Is there a way to change myself like this? Leave the furniture, and just replace the other bits? If I were to buy a new "rug" for myself (let's say, a new top), what would it be? Some kind of flowy, hippy top? Or more structured?

Answer the question, then shop, I guess.

Gender blender

2012-01-04T20:16:00.002-05:00

(Schmender.) I've been thinking about gender issues today. Linsdsey posted this video on her facebook page. I'd seen it before, and it did bother me for about a minute at the time, but I got over it (which I will explain shortly):

1. These are young, inexperienced people. Do you know what an idiot I was when I was 20? I try not to think about it. Ever. Shudder. But I remember enough to know these people are temporarily insane.

2. I consider ALL of my friends, male and female, smart, funny, and attractive for one reason or another. I also would only consider sexual partners of the same description. Am I plotting to "trick" everyone into bed? Apparently.

3. Upon further consideration, that is ~~most definitely~~ could possibly be true. I have made major education, career, and, in fact, predictions for the coming new year based on interactions with men, whom I may have found quite attractive. So stone me. I'm a whore.

This would all be hilarious, except that modern American society will take me literally. Despite the fact I've been married for 18 years, once been given the nickname "Vanilla Square" (because I'm the imaginary stripper that would be all BA DA BA DA BABA but then be too shy to whip my top off and therefore runs off the stage), and otherwise reputable member of society, I'm subject to slut-shaming, misogyny, and judgement. Just for being a woman.

It pisses me off that I even have to think about being a "reputable" member of society. My mother and my grandmother were very worried about reputation. It sometimes amuses me to think of the horror they would feel if they were alive now about my Middle Eastern dance obsession. (See? It's making me use fancy terms for belly dance.) Why can't I just do things that are loving, moral, and make me happy?

So, foolish young adults, you are correct. Men and women can't be "friends". Especially if "friends" means something like "coffee table" or "inert material" to you. Friends interact and touch and sway back and forth. It's kind of sexy, but it doesn't need to be SEX.

Routine poutine

2011-12-31T13:34:00.000-05:00

How's THAT* for motivation? Get your routine on, ladies!

But, yes, it being that time of year, I've been thinking what I would like my routine to be. I have found it helpful to have a schedule, and a basic framework. Yes, I am the Mistress of the Obvious. Anyway, as much as I would like to be a cat (routine: sleep, watch birds out the window, kibbles, kitten freak-out, sleep), I am not.

So, if the goals are to go on a trip, keep running, be my painfully-literal-but-diplomatic-self-with-a-fabulous home, garden, and ass, I'm going to need to build in the little things that support such goals.

The thing I've been obsessed with for the last 24 hours is some yoga / stretching / dancing every day. And when I look at what my professed goals are, I no longer see where that fits in. This structure also makes knitting a waste of time - which is true, to a certain extent. I took up knitting / crochet to make TV-watching productive. As you could probably deduct, TV-watching does not support any of my goals. OH, MISTRESS OF THE OBVIOUS. YOU ARE SO CRUEL!

So yeah, what's the routine again? I should be fixing, cleaning, running, or gardening right now? (Luckily, I did have writing on the original list, so I'm not REALLY wasting time right now.) Who made this list?

Okay, the routine has built-in slacker time in it. Fine. And really, as the kitties have taught us, time to watch the birdies is valuable as well. And naps. Lots of kitten naps.

And yoga / stretching / dancing every day. Blog is twice a week. (Preferably Sunday and Wednesday.) Running is whatever. The trip is based on working and saving money. I can clean or fix something every day. Read before bed. Garden on Saturdays. I will make a google calendar to keep track.

New Year's, baby!!

*I have never eaten poutine. But I would like to visit Toronto or Quebec again.

Annual Review: 2011 Was Kind of a Struggle

2011-12-26T14:14:00.001-05:00

OMG I love the end of the year. Have I mentioned the "fresh sheet of paper" theory? Probably last year. Top ten lists, mind-maps, LISTS! (you know I love lists, right?), planning, listing, sparkles! But I'm really excited this year, because I found things on the internet that support my love of such things!

This year, I am using the annual review process I found on chrisguillebeau.com. I am also reading (from the Kindle lending library) a book about running life lessons. (Side note: it amuses and intrigues me that so many self-improvement ideas involve running. I suppose that's one of the reasons I keep trying, because there's some sort of connection that I can't fully name.) And really, that's what this blog is all about, between the whining and the dancing and thankfulness lists - what IS the meaning of life?

So, with no further ado: 2011: What went well this year?

My job: I know it's just a job. But I like to do things that I'm good at and that make a difference for others. I really do think that healthcare quality standards make things better for patients. And really simple ones, especially. It amazes me sometimes that United States National Patient Safety Goals have to include "Wash your hands" and "Make sure you have the right patient before you begin treatment", but they really do! And, colleagues that I know in my heart really care and want to do the right thing still struggle with these goals. I do feel that I'm in the right place at the right time, for once.

My health: no new cancer. This is more of a happy coincidence than the result of anything I've done. Next year, I will try harder.

Travel: I went to New Orleans (and I still haven't uploaded the pictures). It was amazing, and not what I assumed at all. I forgive you, South.

Voice: Not singing. But in the heat of some discussions (at work and at home), some voice of truth came out of me. I did not know the words. I should have listened closer, honestly. But I was happy it was there, and I look forward to hearing it more.

Dance: I love dancing. There, I said it out loud. And it means something, in the world. Have you seen this?
So inspiring.

What did not go well?
My garden: too much time online, not enough outside. I will correct that next year.

Running: I kind of dropped out. But like I said above, it appears to be important. I do like it. I just don't love it enough to be obsessed. I think if I sneak up on it, and very casually regard it and hold hands, we can do it again.

Relationship: Being married is hard. I think every mature human in a relationship knows this, but goes for the dumb fairy tale of yore every time. "Marriage" is a gatekeeper, Chris Gillebeau! I'm not sure what to do about it, except realize that I've paid the toll and we're on the road and we'll see where it goes.

Friendships: I'm good at hanging out. I'm not so good at being there. I will try harder for anyone who deserves it this year. I would love to be able to drop the "deserves it" clause, but the scar tissue makes me kind of thick sometimes.

My job: I have briefly succumbed to showing up. I want to be there, too. If I want to be there. You know.

Almost there: GOAL!!!!(s) for 2012. The theme? Small Change, Big Pay-Off.

My job: I will put the passion back by doing what I'm good at - literal, focused analysis with the big picture in mind.

My health: I will sneak the running back. I will remember that I never overeat anymore.

Travel: I want to go to Belgium / Netherlands / Luxembourg in the fall of 2012. There. I said it. 7 -10 days. Investigation begins now.

Voice: I will listen to the voice. Unless it's a voice about cookies or something.

House: I will fix things that are broken. This will make a pleasant environment.

Write: I will keep this blog up! Add pictures! Once a week!!! Exclamation makes it happen.

Dance: I will do a tribal solo at the August show. I will gain confidence by just dancing to my own music at home once a week.

Garden: I have seen the internet. I will then go outside, even if it's only 15 minutes of weeding or pruning.

Ta-daaaaa!

2011-12-18T18:42:00.000-05:00

Well, the costuming frenzy is over for now. Here is one of the performances from our hafla last week. I made the tassel belt and harem pants that I wear. The sewing machine has been out since early October in almost constant use.

I learned a lot from this performance. In this video, I can spot plenty of screw-ups on my performance of the choreography. But good part is, I did not grimace. I did not stop. I looked the audience in the eye and said "Oh yeah?" I'm not really grimacing now that I see it after the fact, either. This is progress! I have "found whiz"!

For a minute, anyway. Always moving forward. I'd be interested in getting a serger, or just knitting for a while. What about making my own costume with beading? I would like to do a solo performance this year. Moving forward and BUILDING, not just another blank page.

I wish I had a video of the other group performance, with the other costume.

Experiments in Walking

2011-12-04T13:49:00.001-05:00

(picture from last year - I just realized this blog is getting a little text-heavy).

If you want to really bother people for reasons they can't pin down, try walking differently. It's been quite interesting to observe the reactions to a change that should only affect me, yet drives others crazy.

I went to a belly dance workshop Halloween weekend with Tempest. She was giving a lot of performance tips and really just daily practice ideas (which is what I was lacking) and one of them was to walk toe-heel EVERYWHERE (to improve posture, dancer's poise, stop yourself from stepping on something regrettable before your full body weight is on it, etc.). Perhaps the same weekend, I read an article in the New York Times Magazine about running form, which was also about the negatives of a heavy heel strike.

So I started stomping around my office differently. I think it's most annoying there because of the tile floors and my heels. People accused me of trying to sneak up on them, as it's a much different heel noise. It's also kind of hard with heels, but I think I've got it worked out now.

I also use it when shopping, and I notice that it draws a lot more attention. Or maybe it's that I'm looking for reaction, and therefore find it, I don't know. It makes me much more conscious of walking, so that's part of it.

I've also tried it walking downtown with sneakers, and it's much harder then! It's like I can't go fast enough. A lot of the effort seems to come from the lower abdomen instead of the calf pushing off, which is at least different. I also use it for a break while running.

I do think it's changed my leg quite a bit. I see more muscle in the back of my leg than before (but that could have been the tights I was wearing - I have no measurements or anything). I do feel the jarring now with the traditional heel-toe walk. It just feels more graceful. I think I'm going to stick with it.

The funniest part to me is that Richard hasn't really noticed. But then, how often do you see your wife walking? Especially if your wife is me - I'm more likely to be loafing. But yeah, the co-workers think I'm crazy (my mistake for explaining my theories and experiments). Random passers-by probably just can't figure out what's different, or are wondering when the dancing begins. Which I like, actually.

Mean Girls

2011-11-27T17:51:00.001-05:00

Newsflash: High school is over. They can't send you back. It's time to act like a grown-up.

Sorry about the lecture. It is mostly directed at myself. I know that I'm being immature when I use the word "grown-up". But I've been through a few things recently that reminded me to act my age, not my shoe size, maybe we should do the whirl...

Oops. Song from high school. Those probably aren't quite the lyrics, either. I was LITERALLY brought back to high school from hauling out an old yearbook. One of my co-workers graduated in my class, and she hadn't seen it years. She had kind of a rough time, got pregnant as a junior and felt shunned the rest of the time. So I brought it in for her to look at.

Of course, I previewed it first. Because apparently I was a mean girl! Most shocking to myself, I drew an "A" on the collar of a younger girl. You know, for "Adulteress". (I'm surprised Literal Teenage Liz didn't find a red pen to draw it....) It wasn't even anyone I remember, let alone remember being mean to me, which might have been forgivable.

But it's really not forgivable. I can respect that not everyone has to like each other. But I want to stop judging. Put down the red pen. I want to be able to say, Huh, that's interesting.

So, the preview showed that I was a jerk, but at least I hadn't marked up my co-worker's photo (unlike the Junior yearbook, where I had helpfully pointed out in blue Bic that the way the top of her hair poufed it made it her look like a Conehead. I actually remember feeling ashamed of that at the time, since I have known her since 5th grade). We pointed out some people that were mean to us (forgive!), we remembered some bad hair, we laughed, we cried, we rubbed bitter salt on ourselves, we got kind of evasive, and then I took the book back home where it should (must!) stay.

MAXIMizing

2011-11-12T19:19:00.001-05:00

This post has almost nothing to do with Maxim, the magazine. Except for this - as I was muddling around on Cande's phone last night, trying to find a picture of the belly dance costume I may want to purchase, Carol says glancing at the pictures, "Those look like something you shouldn't wear in public."

But my theory is, it's like being at the beach - everyone else is dressed inappropriately for any other situation, so we all just deal and drop the judgement, right? Except that since it's dance, there's an audience and performers, and since it's middle eastern dance, only the performers are dressed inappropriately and subject to judgement? I need to purchase my very first oriental belly dance costume for the Christmas hafla (wanna come? I can get you tickets! Let me know.). It's important that I feel and look happy. In public.

So, here's what I'm thinking of wearing in public:

I like the fringe, I like silver coins, I like that I can get different skirts for different looks. It also comes in comically over-sized boob sizes, which is VERY VERY important to me.

For some reason, choice #2 does not want me to post a picture. I will try anyway. https://www.dahlal.com/ctl/showcostumeimage.aspx?i=RS09-49BBFF_close_lg.jpg Let's just say, more expensive, more fringe, more color? I like color. It's not so stereotypically belly dancer-y.

Maximizing is the corner of perfectionism that I live in. I tend to spend a lot of time picking things out, obsessing about exploring ALL of the options, and then repeatedly whacking myself upside the head if I feel even slightly dissatisfied with my final choice. I do realize that the modern marketplace is designed to make me dissatisfied with my choice, so I can get another one, or keep shopping anyway. I had read an article in Psychology Today on vacation about some strategies to STOP doing these things (pick the first acceptable choice and stop looking, just stick to reliable past choices for routine items, etc.) and I was so looking forward to being happy.

But some choices are just too important to just pick the first option. Like this house, for example. It's been one of my greatest regrets that we didn't look harder. I shouldn't even second guess it. I own a house. It's perfectly serviceable and inexpensive. Roof. Floors. Yard. Nothing wrong with it at all. Except I always think I could have done better. But nope, we looked at only one house. And then we put in an offer in and everything just kind of came together after that.

So, I'm going to sleep on this costume idea. One more night. One more dream. (I dreamed that I bought two costumes while staying in a strange hotel with community bathrooms. When I got back to my room, the 2nd costume was gone. And it was my favorite, I discovered when it was gone.) Your input is helpful too. (I realize I will look NOTHING like either one of these models.) I am going to maximize this shopping experience one more time, and not just because it's no small amount of money. Because it is pleasurable.

Do you know what happened after September 11?

2011-11-09T19:33:00.000-05:00

September 12.

It's a story that I heard once about some friends that tried to drive to Canada from Michigan (which it's true, used to be no big deal) and then realized pretty much immediately that it wasn't as easy as it used to be. U-turn. The U.S. Customs gave them a really hard time about it when they tried to claim they didn't know they needed a passport to go to freakin' Canada. "DO YOU KNOW WHAT HAPPENED AFTER SEPTEMBER 11???" one of the customs officials demanded. They didn't have answer. My smart-alecky answer is above. Good thing I wasn't there, or I may have never returned to the U.S.

So, I last posted September 11. It's now November. Of course, a lot has happened. I went on a fabulous trip. Passed the annual aging mark. Did a lot of tough talking to Mr. Middle-Age Crisis. My dad got married. And I realized that I was getting all dull and dented in the process. So, I started the grateful list again. I can't remember what number we're on. I'll just start with 1, for November 1, to keep myself on track again.

11/1/11 - Belly dance class. Tribal. Love it. I'm still getting better. Twice a week, and I still would do more.
11/2/11 - I went for a run in the beautiful fall weather. I still got it.
11/3/11 - I had an excellent talk with Richard. He's melting down. But it's all good.
11/4/11 - Richard had a show hanging at the art hop, and an excellent turn out for the reception. It was like a wedding, in that everyone you loved that had always supported you was there. Very lovely.
11/5/11 -The fabulous fall weather continued, so we went for a bike ride. We use the same route frequently. I usually get kind of excited about the cows, but the llamas were out! Oh, how I want to hug their long necks.
11/6/11 - Yard work was done. Felt good to be outside and productive.
11/7/11 - I started a craft project. Although it is turning out quite awful, it will be good practice for the real one. (It's a belly dance belt.)
11/8/11 - Cried my eyes out last night, talking with Richard again. Yes, the breaking / melting requires lots of talking. I was just glad to note that I still have emotions, and I can access them. I'm alive!

Consider forgiveness?

2011-09-11T21:20:00.001-04:00

I was pleasantly surprised that the facebook friends on my list weren't too 9/11 today. I wasn't sure if I could handle 100 posts of remembrance. That sounds so petty. Yes, I am aware it's not about me. But it really just feels like it's time to move on.

And that doesn't mean "forget". Oh, the NEVER FORGET! Who is really going to forget? It seems like the sentence is incomplete, and the complete sentence they want is, "Never forget to hate the other!" I think it's unfinished because many aren't going to agree with that statement.

Who is the Other, anyway? Just as it would be stupid to blame an entire religion (not even by sect, because then we'd have to study it and try to understand), we cannot name the other because then the whole thing falls apart.

So, I quit agreeing. It's time to forgive. And possibly even forget. Not because any one's life is worth nothing, or worth more than a certain other person's life, but because in this instance, the forget implies not holding the grudge.

Yes, I was hurt and shocked and scared and amazed that day. But from my own life, and observation, I have seen how holding the grudge hurts more. So I am dropping it. Won't you join me? Do you really agree to Never Stop Hating the Other for What They Did To Us?

Pet me.

2011-08-26T07:41:00.000-04:00

I was just thinking how the need to be liked is behind every action for me. It's quite ridiculous. But I don't know any other way to be. I suppose this latest blog theme (the gratefulness) is an attempt to make known that I like you, too. All of you, even if you're:

This weather. Dryer, cooler, temperate. I love you. Please stay.
The smell of Westnedge Creek, noted while running past all kinds of somewhat icky smells (dead animals? asphalt?)
My new husband. The same man I've been married to for almost 18 years, who turned back into the man I married.
Any time I can spend in the garden. Even if it's just pulling out clover.
Hmmm. This is interesting. My notebook says, "Work success and foreigners". I have no idea what that means any more.
More work success. THE big-ass project I've been working finally came to fruition, and it was good.
And therefore, they sent me flowers the following day.
Talented ladies. You know who you are. Well, somehow I've surrounded myself with them, so maybe you don't. But if you can sing, play guitar, paint, crochet, knit, run an agency, get out of bed in the morning, etc., I have the utmost respect for you.
Graduation from the surgeon. I saw the surgeon who removed my thyroid last week. He answered my questions, and graduated me. Goodbye, Dr. Surgery Robot! I will actually kind of miss him. But not enough to grow my thyroid back, if you follow me.
I am an artsy-fartsy weirdo who at least doesn't walk a pot-bellied pig down the street. Thank you, kind co-workers, for sharing those impressions.
And finally, mowing the lawn while thunder booms in the distance. Summer. Green clippings. Lovely.

And yet, it was the best week in recent memory.

2011-08-20T12:38:00.001-04:00

The bear and rock I found while planting for Buddha., originally uploaded by wizzybit.

Slapping Hostess texted to apologize. As I suspected, she was just worked up and I was in the wrong place. I'm sure there's something deeper going on there (I am really bad about staying in contact....), but I encourage her to use her words, and not her hands.

So, now grateful for two awesome days at work, an evening at the beach (finally!), seeing old friends Tim and Tracy, and stone fruits. I just got back from the farmer's market with extra nectarines for our annual back-to-school clothes shopping extravaganza. And a thunderstorm, to make it all cozy.

My plan for the afternoon is to can some peaches to gift on our upcoming trip to New Orleans. For some reason, I am afraid to buy the bourbon. I've never bought it before. It seems kind of against the rules or something. I also need vanilla beans, which are not easy to find.

Why the Buddha, bear and rock? Why not? Who knows what other treasures are buried in your yard?

Grateful this doesn't happen every day?

2011-08-14T18:58:00.000-04:00

Unfortunate weekend. Kelly's bike seat was mangled while she left it chained up outside, mean things were said at a party, and then the party ended with me getting slapped by the drunk hostess. I don't really think these things were related, but the moon was waxing the whole time. The Slapping Hostess has taught me many lessons in my recent life, although this is the first time she's slapped me. I'm just trying to figure out what is the lesson this time.

Option 1: Whisky makes people mean. Move away when you aren't having fun anymore.

Option 2: There is very little fun available after midnight. It's best to just go home.

Option 3: Or, a social life that involves hanging out with very very drunk people after midnight will get you in trouble eventually. Move away.

I note that "moving away" is the theme here. It is one of my favorite things to do. Effective. I don't really think that "confronting" Slapping Hostess would be useful at all, as she's just a messenger, in the larger picture. I am old enough to go to choose the parties that don't involve standing around holding a can of beer. I have been trying to avoid some of these people since high school. It's time to make it stick, I suppose.

I think Kelly will get her bike seat fixed. Mean things - well, it happens. Time to broadcast nice things for a while. And I'm okay. I know what to do. Thanks for listening.

Good news!

2011-08-01T20:17:00.000-04:00

I can't even keep up with the gratefulness. The bad news is that I'm wasting a lot of time on the computer nonetheless. not writing about any of these topics. But here's a catch up list of what I've noted.

30. Cars
31. Co-workers
32. Cell phones
33. Air conditioning
34. Espresso shake
35. Dance party
36. Pool party
37. Vacation is booked. NOLA!
38. Bras.
39. Sunrise on the dry cleaner
40. Forgiveness for stupidity
41. Passive aggression
42. Over the Edge nail color by Essie
43. Art

44. Photo peace. I say this because I was wearing my new-ish red skirt today, and got a compliment from a co-worker about how I always "look nice" and have a "retro" style. As is the female way, I tried to accept and deflect this compliment by making lots of excuses about trying to rotate all my clothes, or that my grandma used to sew so I became obsessed at that point, or something. But when I really analyze it, I think it's because of the Wardrobe Remix group on flickr.

I just watched for a while. Also, keep in mind the group was not 17,000 strong yet! But I started taking self-portraits with the timer on my camera. Then I posted a few. I really wasn't one of the favorites, but I learned to use the camera as a mirror and it served me well in the long run. Especially because prior to digital or self portraiture, all photos of me were awkward and uncomfortable. Now, I am much more relaxed. It's not just because you can delete them, but it really doesn't bother me like it did as a teenager, or a young woman.

So shoot me! I don't care. I like to wear red, black, and striped things. My hair looks better up. I don't have to smile.

Grateful 26-33

2011-07-21T21:01:00.000-04:00

26. My ass. For sitting.

27. My new bike skirt, for protecting my ass. Padded shorts underneath, you see. And cute as a BUTTon.

28. I went to South Haven, and saw the tall ships. It wasn't part of the plan, I was just killing time while Richard worked. And there she was, floating down the channel, while I crossed the street. Tourist pirates.

29. Hot. See previous post.

30. Honest car repairs. I love Woodward's garage. Fluids needed changing, and things needed checking. The old place seemed to have a flat $500 fee no matter what, so that's what we were prepared to pay. However, the actual cost at Woodward's was 1/5 of that. Richard actually asked, did you do what I mentioned? and they were quite amused.
31. Co-workers.

32. Cell phones

33. Air conditioning.

I lost my notebook, but I am still grateful.

2011-07-17T19:07:00.001-04:00

It's probably on my desk at work. I am sure the cleaning crew is either ignoring it, has shredded it, or wonders what kind of maniac draws pictures of calendars in a notebook and has lists that say things like, "cucumber, cat filters, Calvin Klein shoes."

I think I might be beating the grateful thing into the ground. It does bring up topics for musing, though. For example, if I were to continue in this way, I would need to write about how I am grateful for Michigan summers, for which I am sincerely not. But couldn't I make it so if I were to write a pretty circle around it? Someone likes these summers. Why not me?

And what's not to like? It's warm, lush, green, humid. There are places that are actually hotter. We have lovely lakes all around to jump into. In fact, I am ignoring an invitation to the pool as we speak, (idiotically). The nights cool down, a little. If don't move at all, you can sort of sleep through them.

Or better yet, you can stay up all night, preferably with some cold drinks and good friends. It's hard when you've got a straight day job, but everyone's a little worked up and sweaty, so they might not notice.

And best of all, the unbearable days don't last all summer. Usually it's just a week or so at a time.

Watermelon.

Air conditioned offices and shopping. Movies. Library.

I can totally do this.

I can't remember what number I'm on.

2011-07-14T21:39:00.000-04:00

Perhaps 25? I mean for the gratefulness countdown. That's what my old-timey notebook says, anyway, the one where I scrawl my little notes. It says the 25 is compliments.

I used to say I was a compliment whore, but that seems a little harsh. I do enjoy feedback. Perhaps especially praise. I vaguely remember taking some job compatibility testing before or early in college and learning that I could not predict which way gears should turn, but that I did enjoy working with people and lots and lots of feedback. I have found that to be true still. However, let me state that Richard has gone overboard in the last month or so. Too much praise is embarrassing.

24. Curly hair. I really had to struggle to come around on this one. I was totally hating my horrible unpredictable curling-like-a-90s-spiral-perm hair. But then I got a little trim and it's all nice again. Or maybe, the humidity is down. Whatever.

23. Pretty pink clouds. Sunset. Obvious. If only pictures could capture it.

22. Polite society. Because I went to an actually enjoyable wedding shower.

I'm not sure if this will buzz or not. Google is changing things all around, and you know I have to jump into that pool before I read the danger signs. Oh shoot, is this the deep end?

Grateful 21: Talent vs. work

2011-07-11T17:52:00.000-04:00

In this dichotomy, I suppose I am thankful for the middle ground between them, because I'm not sure that I have one driving talent. I always thought it was encouraging (interesting, relieving, etc.) that you could make up for a lack of talent with work. Or practice, at least.

Or maybe talent is not what I think it is. It should be easy, right? Or something you can do naturally? Or maybe it's more subtle than that, and it's just something that you can work on and improve.

It always amuses me that my father thinks my greatest talent is singing. This is most likely because he hasn't really heard me sing. I am not claiming to be horrible. But he's got a slightly inflated idea of what it would be like. This puts me in a difficult position because if I actually do as he'd like and take voice lessons, I could make him very happy, or disappoint us both. What if I really CAN'T sing well? Then what talent would I have?

It's a silly point because I'm too busy. Unless the vocal coach has shower appointments....

I told you there'd be pictures someday!

2011-07-10T14:51:00.001-04:00

Grateful 20: My neighborhood. This house was for sale around the corner, but apparently has sold. There's a big dumpster in the driveway, which is actually one of the things I like about the historic homes. There's room for improvement, decline, amazing paint colors, homemade duck cut-outs, and bands. I went for a run this morning and noticed that the apartment buildling on Lovell that I used to visit quite regularly to see a friend around 1999-2000 has had a garden explosion since then - lilies lining the sidewalk have turned into almost all lawn areas being perennial beds. There's young families all around us, and they socialize and play together. When my terracotta planter got used as a shot-put one night, I got an apology from the head of the neighborhood association. Have I talked you into buying the vacant house on the end of our lot?

Grateful 19: new beginnings

2011-07-05T22:40:00.000-04:00

See, I can just jump in where I left off. No one will be injured. I was still grateful most of those days. It will be fine.

And it's the perfect time and place to have a new beginning! Six months left in the year. I really would like to get a few things experienced. Note that I didn't say "done". I'm done doing. Do do. I remember getting really stressed out about my busy busy social calendar once and having the breakthrough that those were supposed to be enjoyable events! It was okay to enjoy them. And if you have 3 events in one day, you were going to have a wonderful day.

So, my July resolutions include running fast and long, getting rid of some clutter, and speaking up. This week I want to try and choreograph a whole belly dance song and start cornering the boss with daily reports. I'm going to go

16 & 17: rain

2011-06-22T21:13:00.000-04:00

Grateful 16: It was shockingly hot yesterday. Not because it was so hot, but because it was so unexpected. Maybe it was only me, as I tend to ignore weather forecasts (despite the new thing on my phone that makes them easy to read....) but I just didn't know it would feel so icky. I had plans! I was going to bellydance class, and there's no air in the dance studio for some reason, and it was going to be miserable. But then the big black clouds rolled in.

And after class it was lovely and cool. This only happens in the summer.

17: It rained again (well, a couple times actually) today, right at the end of our walk. I've been enjoying walks with Richard lately. We didn't get too wet, though. There are a lot of good trees for hiding beneath in our neighborhood.

15: The obvious

2011-06-20T19:23:00.001-04:00

MR. AWESOME!!!!

Aw, he was just a young kitten in a box back in the day. And for those of you who thought I would have had 15 posts by now about being grateful for a kitty, well, it is entirely possible that the remaining 350 posts will be about this kitty. He is currently draped across my lap, preventing my jogging plans from fruition (but if you think about it, he is assisting my blogging plans). I had recently resolved to win him back over, because he was all about the windows all of a sudden, and doesn't sleep with me anymore. So the lap time was a pleasant surprise! It's like we have a mind connection! Woooo kitty!

P.S. I picked this picture from a tiny thumbnail. This would be BLUEBERRY. Who was also a fine, fine kitty. Oops.

Grateful 11-14: The future?

2011-06-19T13:56:00.000-04:00

11: Apparently the next belly dance performance could include dancing with lit candles in our hands. No, balanced on our hands. LIT CANDLES. I'm sorry, but I might have to skip the wedding of the summer for that opportunity.

12: I overheated my marshmallow Friday night, and in the rush to blow out the fire, whipped hot sugar onto my cheek. Although there is still a mark today, I am grateful I didn't stab myself in the eye with the roasting stick.

13: I went out for birthday dinner and dancing with some of the belly dancers and had this lovely moment at dinner thinking that all the women I know are smart, awesome, funny ladies. Seriously, they are hilarious. AND they love sparkles. I was wearing this very, very shiny showy necklace, which I had tucked into my shirt because it was "too early" for sparkles, and Sarah was just like, what? You're with us. Put it out there.

14: If I don't say "fathers" on Father's Day, I am a horrible person. But I really mean it! I am so thrilled that my dad has turned his life into a pleasurable experience. It gives me hope, because I really think that we are alike in a lot of ways - late bloomers, Attention Deficit Hobby Disorder, optimist/perfectionist/literalists. And you can just keep making it better, even when it gets very, very dark.

I hope to share pictures with you soon. Pretty, pretty pictures.

Grateful 5-10: Mishmash

2011-06-15T22:27:00.000-04:00

Grateful 5: Friends. Duh. And probably more later, because it's a really important duh.
Grateful 6: Pride Festival. Danced at the Kalamazoo Pride, and got more appreciation from a smaller crowd than 4 shows of the Greek Fest.
Grateful 7: Pork loin stuffed with three kinds of bacon. Because there are three kinds of bacon.
Grateful 8: Reflective surfaces remind one to be humble. Because I'm not all that and I'm old to boot. .
Grateful 9: Hippie food. Bulgur. Chicken. Yogurt sauce with dill and garlic chives.

Grateful 10: The coffee mugs at work. Seriously, each of them deserves it own day. But today I chose the calico cat pottery mug. It had that lovely wider base and a rolled lip. It kept my filtered water nice and cool. It had a chip by the handle which didn't detract from the feel on your mouth, because it would be quite a feat to drink from that angle. There was a circular medallion which contained the cat artwork. It was a nice line drawing of a cat with a yellow bow and, for some reason, a French Provincial Fleur pattern on the body. It was possible it was not microwave safe.... too bad because I discovered that I had a little bit of coffee left in my thermos and heated it up in the afternoon for a kick. It tasted too hot and possibly of glaze, but that could have been my psychosomatic impulses.

I will try not to get 6 days behind again. That was a lot of gratefulness. I am still a little sullen thinking about how long I had to wait for Richard to surrender the laptop. But it certainly wasn't 6 days. That was all my fault.

Grateful 4: Bellydancers

2011-06-09T22:37:00.000-04:00

I have frequently found that something that challenges me will end up taking over my imagination. I remember being at the Kalamazoo Greek Festival probably 4 years ago now and being really freaked out by seeing bellies in public. Then, I became obsessed.

I just went through a weird shame cycle with my last performance experience at the Greek Festival. I couldn't sleep. I couldn't believe I had done that in public and ruined my life that way. I wanted to quit taking classes. But I also had to remember what Ron said, which was approximately, "I know what's out there in the media. But I don't think you're giving men enough credit to enjoy a lot of different types of bodies." Or as Brian the one-armed professor said, "I have one arm and a lot of scars." Eventually I got to the place where if my belly made one woman in the audience feel okay for a minute, then it was all worth it.

Plus, this: http://youtu.be/9UCtdhGUwo0

Grateful 3: Pantyhose

2011-06-08T21:58:00.000-04:00

Well, more like the opportunity to wear pantyhose. Even though I prefer to think of them as tights. Because, if I didn't have a job in the healthcare industry (that I happen to love), I wouldn't need them at all. And that would be kind of sad and flabby.

I didn't really think of this until tonight, but it's a good way to look at nearly anything. I spent the evening drifting around the mall, for the air conditioning. It's 95 already. I did need a few things - mostly for belly dance (new flowers for hair, glittery eyeliner, necklaces to attach to bra, etc.) I've also been meaning to stock up on the nude fishnets they have at Macy's. But they were out of the color I wanted in my size. So I checked out the clearance rack and found a few other kinds of patterned not-too-wintry looking ones.

I took them up to the saleslady in the Plus department (it was the first counter I came to that was staffed). The lady seemed a little unusual, like someone I could have a good banter with. So I said, "I apparently work for the only employer in town who requires pantyhose!' and she kind of laughed, inquired where I work, etc. etc. Eventually she said, "Well, on the positive side, at least you have a job, even with a dress code!" and I realized she was right. I had actually been offered a job at Macy's at one point in my search, and had to consider if it was worth it to work every holiday and wear all black all the time, stay on my feet, as a seasonal staff. I was offered employment from the company that I work for now on the same day, and took that path.

It's also funny because it's been on my mind due to facebook. I had posted a status update about having to wear them and got 23 comments in response! I was slightly shocked by the vitriol towards them. I wonder if everyone was wearing really small ones or something, because I don't really find them any more uncomfortable than underwear or pants. My only concern is that everyone seems to hate them, and it's hard to find a good color anymore because no one wears them.

2011-06-07T21:08:00.001-04:00

Grateful 2: popsicles are magic.

Item 1: Orchids

2011-06-06T23:01:00.000-04:00

Probably a month ago I read about the 365 Grateful idea. It seemed like a way to get out of my photography rut (it's more of a sand dune, in that I haven't taken a decent picture in a good six months, but anyway...) but I really think it might have to be a multi-media project. I need to write. There can be pictures too. It's all good, really. This seems like a much more positive thing to focus on than cancer, or self-portraits, or even literally navel-gazing.

Item 1 of 365: I am grateful for orchids. I am reminded of this today because as I was shopping for the plants for the last planter on the deck, when I found a sale bench of $5 orchids at the greenhouse. At first I only took one. Then, the saleswoman, who seemed a little earnest and lovely, came over and told me her story of how she grew one and it didn't seem that hard after all, so she bought a couple herself. And I thought of my phaelenopsis orchid at home and how it is blooming right now, and it's true, it's not that hard. You just water them and feed them and once a year a stalk shoots out and amazing tropical flowers appear. So I bought two. I have no idea what the flowers, or even the types are. Somewhere I have a book. I bought some matching pots. I will repot them. I will water them and feed them. And maybe next fall or next spring, they will shoot out a stalk and surprise me.

365 projects

2011-05-16T20:43:00.000-04:00

No, really, I think I might have 365 projects going at once. Which is how I ADD roll, I supposed.
1. Job contains 365 projects within itself.
2. Running
3. Belly dancing
4. Gardening. Another 365 different projects
5. Knitting a sweater.
6. But would like to crochet something quick and fun in between...
7. Watching Treme, behind 2 episodes
8. Eating food, but less of it
9. Need to make belly dance costume decisions. Belly out? Or covered?
10. Movies must be seen.
11. Bikes need riding too.
12. Oh, speaking of belly dance costumes, I need new sandals. Flat, black sandals that won't slide around when dancing. Where are those kept?
13. I have to unpack my sandals and put away boots.
14. Fridge needs cleaning.
15. Devising an archival storage system for flyers and posters we have saved over time.
16. Also, would like to get back into photography. Scavenger hunt on flickr.
17. And photo journal of 365 grateful. Yep.
18. Must seed lawn. But should mow it first.
19. I would like to read a book. Any book. That one right there looks good.
20. Also, new magazines came in the mail.
21. Put away laundry.
22. Drop off bag at Goodwill. Do not bring home new things from Goodwill.
23. I need to stretch my IT band a little.
24. I would really like to make some cookies for co-workers soon.
25. Mmm pasta. Need to go to grocery store.
26. And buy laundry soap. Laundry is never done.
27. Dammit, I should have had children 5 years ago.
28. I should be writing a novel.
29. Or a poem.
30. I never wished my brother a happy birthday last week. I can only make up for it by baking now.
31. Oh, and I need to email the CSA guy.
32. I did sort of get my brother a present. I need to email that guy too.
33. I need to back-up my blackberry, now that I think about it.
34. Pay bills.
35. Face is dry. Moisturize.
36. I wanted to paint my nails, but that makes 33 of the above impossible to do at the same time.
37. Gah! Birthday presents, how could I forget? I need to map out Lindsey's plan-your-own-adventure girl's night.
38. Moisturize hands, too.
39. And file that square middle finger nail.
40. Why are my nails suddenly peeling? I need to make a dentist appointment.
41. And an endocrinologist appointment. They sent a reminder.
42. At least I have a hair appointment tomorrow. It's driving me crazy.
43. I should take some before and after photos. Is it on the scavenger hunt? No.
44. Orchid needs droopy flower removed.
45. I should probably water and feed and re pot all houseplants now.
46. Cat needs feeding.
47. And cat box cleaning.
48. And snuggling.
49. And a new filter for his fountain.
50. Moisturize hands.
51. Take out contacts and go to bed.
52. I need to buy new glasses though, so that makes it hard to read.
53. I quit.

I hate running. I love running.

2011-04-17T17:02:00.000-04:00

Ah, the power of attitude and expectation. It's so exciting for an optimist like me, but it also makes a lot of things your responsibility. It is a little terrifying that there's a voice inside of your conscious that says all these horrible things. (You're not going to make it. You're never going to be good at this. You look like an idiot. The weather is against you. That dog want to eat your shoes. Your belly is hanging out. They didn't wave back because they think you're stupid. You're going to injure yourself permanently and end up fatter than ever.) I could go on, but it's probably not a good idea.

I think that if I could get a happy thought generator opposite the other one, I could run a lot happier. I'm assuming happier is faster and longer, but maybe I shouldn't make that assumption. That is a nice thing about the Run Camp concept. It's kind of awkward, but I do think telling the person you're passing "Nice job!" really helps everyone. I forget that not every runner in town is familiar with this concept, and get some blank looks from, say, the WMU cross-country team every now and then, but every Saturday when I run with the group, it's a nice time. (Wait, not that I ever pass a cross-country team going the same direction. It's much more likely to meet them head-on because I didn't have time to turn down a side street to avoid them.)

The goal really is to do better than last year. The goal is to keep running when camp is over, hopefully about 10 miles per week. The goal is to be happy and not struggle against it. I think these are do-able goals. I will be good at trying to set some goals. I will look like an idiot sometimes, but that's even when I'm not running. The weather is just there. That dog would like to eat my shoes, but he has to catch me first. They didn't wave back because they were texting. You won't let yourself get injured.

Slacking, looking backwards

2011-04-06T18:03:00.000-04:00

What could be more fascinating than a blog about how I forgot to blog? Oh, nevermind. I know better.

I would now like to point out the anniversaries of some crappy things, and optimistically note how much has changed.

Two years ago, I lost my fancy high-paying corporate healthcare job. I would have never pictured, or known how or where to apply for, my current job. Sure, it's not fancy, I don't have a health club membership, and it's pretty hard to describe what I do. But it's also perfect for me in that I pretty much do whatever they need to get done. It's a small company, they're not evil and I like truly everyone that works there. Happy ending? Works for me.

One year ago, I was going through the diagnosis part of the thyroid cancer experience. I still don't see a lesson learned or a horrible up or down side. It was just an experience. Perhaps this will reassure the people of Japan that their children will be fine after the radiation exposures. We can watch each other and smile and say, see, it was okay?

Maybe there was something learned - my hair is crazy curly now, instead of the nice wavy it used to be.

One sentence was harder than the others.

2011-03-23T21:45:00.002-04:00

But was it the first one, or the last one? I think it's actually the middle one. This is true in haiku as well.

List of things I could do this weekend while Richard is out of town:

2011-01-10T20:24:00.000-05:00

Feel free to vote.
1. Eat the remainder of the chocolate covered peanut butter pretzels that I wish I had never discovered.
2. Knit. And buy more yarn to knit.
3. Make a nice lunch on Saturday, then eat it.
4. Abstain or binge. May involve pretzels, beer, or other substances.
5. Wear pajamas everywhere to every event. Or, formalwear to casual events, pajamas for formal events.
6. Mom and kitty beauty day with brushing and manicures!!! Yay!
7. Brooding.
8. Blast stupid girly music, finish choreography for S1W audition.
9. Mohawk. Oh, who am I kidding? Fauxhawk of pony tails.
10. A nap on both Saturday and Sunday, which will effectively create a sort of 4-day weekend.
11. Sleep in the guest room, just for fun.
12. Buy a new house and move into it while he's gone as a practical joke.
13. The usual things with an unusual amount of giggling.
14. Milk bath.
15. Then, Cleopatra eyeliner goes to the bar.
16. Take a picture of myself once every 8 minutes to create a 365 portrait project in approximately 48 hours. Post to flickr, bask in praise.

Not that I'm looking forward to it....

2011-01-05T20:11:00.001-05:00

Your beagle wants in. It's my 2011 mantra.

Also, READ a sentence-a-day

2011-01-04T17:50:00.000-05:00

I've been trying to read something real before sleeping. I think that this will help my sentence recall. It seems like I think and maybe talk in fragments, but writing puts it together into a nice shiny package. That previously said, "you think...." but I realize that just as I have no idea what the cat is feeling, I have no idea how anyone else thinks.

Cool things I saw on the first run of 2011

2011-01-02T14:11:00.000-05:00

I ran my lame "medium" loop today, thought of all the reasons it's funny to run in a circle. In the long run (HA!), I guess it's all good as long as you get home.

1. Big hole on Park Street, sadly right next to a mature tree. I'm pretty sure the tree will die. It was probably 5 or 6 feet deep, nice and square, with a wooden ladder inside and broken PVC pipe visible. Surrounded by snow fence. I stopped running to look in, because how often do you find an abandoned fresh hole on a snowy Sunday?

2. Dancing plastic flower in a pot in the bay window of the house in the corner. I wonder if it was one of those sound-activated ones, and what sounds it was dancing to?

3. My ipod died 2/3 of the way into the run, right at the beginning of an epic Radiohead song that would have been fun to run to. Since I wasn't listening to music, I just ran with my ear buds in because it was too much hassle to put them away. I think this made the young dude in a driving cap feel free to yell "Fuck you!" at his car as he ran out the front door of a rental house and climbed in. The car started, so he was must have been a lucky man.

I love New Years.

2011-01-01T14:12:00.000-05:00

No, really, I do. It's like the biggest sheet of paper. I can scribble in the corner. I can practice the alphabet. I could draw a kitty cat or a tree.

I'm thinking this year I'm going to write a sentence every day. It might be here. It might be in a notebook. Text messages don't count, though. I'm thinking the dreaded social network sentences don't count either, although I'm not sure why. It just seems like it would be very limiting there.

I like to have three resolutions, so there will probably be a health related one and a career-y one. I have at least learned that resolutions work best when they are tiny and ridiculously achievable. Even the bigger ones turn out not to be that tricky when you look back at them. 2010 I wanted to perform with the belly dance class. I did so four times. It seemed undo-able on 1/1/10.

WAR IS OVER -- John Lennon Holiday Widget

2010-12-17T17:58:00.000-05:00

WAR IS OVER -- John Lennon Holiday Widget

Sincerity vs. Sarcasm

2010-11-16T21:59:00.001-05:00

I have two books on the table in front of me. One is sincere, the other sarcastic. They both have the same intent, hysterical or happy living. I think I can play them off each other for real development.

Lindsey got me the sarcastic book for my birthday, then bought herself a copy. This Book Will Change Your Life (Amazon link here) will probably not change my life, because I've already rejected three of the topics out of pure spite. And I'm not even talking about my own spite, but the authors'. For example, I refused to put a "Out of Order" sign on public infrastructure on Day 5.

And when I tried to set up a link to their blog as suggested on Day 10, my application was rejected by sending my browser to Playgirl's website. HA HA. Very funny. Dumbasses.

It's not all bad. Day 4, World Coloring Day was quite informative. I was instructed to color code the world map with places I have been (green), would like to go (yellow), and happy never to set foot there my whole life (red). There was much more red than I would have expected, mostly places I'm warned Americans aren't really welcome.

So I plan to supplement that book with Field Guide to Happiness by Barbara Ann Kipfer (here). I've had this book for a while and quite enjoyed it. It is a positive approach, with list-making, mind maps, and journal ideas. I LOVE making lists. I love my notebook and my little mind maps.

LINDSEY! What's been your experience with the Book? Who wants a happiness assignment?

Hats in action! 1

2010-11-09T21:14:00.001-05:00

Hats in action! 1, originally uploaded by wizzybit.

Worst craft blogger ever! I tend to give my creations away before I can even photograph them. However, since I love to mash sardines into my ice cream (and bad analogies), I have now created the craft / street fashion blog, where I give people crafts and then try to catch them wearing them in public while I have a camera. It's like shooting fish in a barrel of ice cream!

Anyway, Kelly on the far left with the double-shooters is wearing on my favorite hats, a light blue alpaca yarn helmet crocheted from a vintage pattern, topped with giant pom pom. I figured if anyone could pull it off, it would be Kelly.

Now, stop looking at the kitty cat in the leopard bra. Look at my hat! I made that hat.

2010-10-23T23:07:00.001-04:00

Can I send a text message to my blog? And why would I want to dob that?

Okay, can I stop thinking about this now?

2010-10-18T10:32:00.000-04:00

So, the "radiation" is done. The full body scan discovered that maybe I shouldn't have held that pill after all (4 additional views of my hand and hip, only to determine it was my hand that was "hot"). My throat feels kind of funny sometimes, but a glass of water or lemon drop usually fixes it right up. I declare it "cancer for creampuffs".

I know that it sounded scary, but nothing "really" happened to me. I mean, it was mostly the fear, and on that level, I guess I have experienced cancer. But the treatments and surgery were really easy for me. I am certain that other regimens are not that easy, and I know that I'm a baby. I learned a lot about my patients at work and even a few of my friends. Fear is not your pet or motivator. It's just crap.

So on to the crafts, I say! I'm working on a hat (for me, selfishly!!) and a belly dance bra. I will get pictures of the other 3 hats I've finished and the 10-10-10 scarf. But some of them are birthday presents, so it might be a little late breaking news. I hope to get pictures of the recipients wearing their gifts. I've also got plans for a some jewelry for another birthday girl.

The line between planning and worry is where again?

2010-10-02T11:28:00.000-04:00

Well, the actual radiation pill was pretty much the most boring doctor's appointment ever. I'd been carefully avoiding dairy products, products of the sea, processed food, iodized salt, and exuberance like a good girl for 10 days, I'd had my pregnancy blood test, I brought some reading and knitting. The doctor was running late, of course, so I waited. The radiology tech that called me back was vaguely familiar from my work at that hospital (oh, the joys of living in the same town your entire life....) and seemed vaguely uncomfortable with me. The room contained a bed, a chair and a lead container.

When the doctor showed up, he initialled some things, went over the discharge instructions, and opened the container. The pill looked like your stereotypical capsule. The tech ran to get a glass of water, and didn't seem very happy about me holding the thing in my hand. I drank the water, swallowed the pill. The tech "took the measurements" (geiger counter???) and I was out the door.

Today I'm feeling a little funny in the mouth. Nothing horrid. I'm supposed to get some lemon candy, which I am on my way out the door to do. I had to continue the low-iodine diet until the end of the day yesterday, so I started today with a Pig in the Garden scramble at Food Dance. Mmm. Smoky apple bacon.

But I've been thinking about the relationship of planning and worry. Once the plan is in place, any further thought seems to lead to worry. And worry is the biggest waste of time. I had a list of questions I wanted to ask the doctor, and I started to ask them Wednesday when I was there getting an injection. The medical assistant kind of snapped, "What's the big deal? It's two injections and a pill." At the time, I was kind of angry. But she was right. It was two injections and a pill.

It's not as bad as it sounds, but I miss you, Cheese.

2010-09-26T19:48:00.000-04:00

So, I'm on day 5 of the low-iodine diet. I just had a really delicious pasta salad with fresh tomatoes and basil and vinegar and a little onion, and a grilled chicken breast. It would have been perfect with some fresh mozarella on top.... But maybe next Sunday.

I did totally cheat twice this weekend, so I need to buckle down for the rest of the week. Both cheats were worth it, though. Richard bought Sarkozy cookies for a barbeque because he didn't want me to worry about dessert (uh, I wasn't), so I stole a bite of a chocolate chip one from Cande. Saturday night was a birthday party with a beautiful mocha torte from Boonzaijer's Bakery, and you can bet I wasn't going to miss that. I ate the whole piece.

I hope to learn something, though. So far, it's that I take deliciousness for granted. Must slow down and taste things. Also, I rely on cheese too much. I mean, cheese is the only taste I'm really missing, but it doesn't necessarily need to go on everything.

The rest of the week is pretty busy. I said I'd be in a writer's group again, and that meets Monday. I haven't written anything yet. I haven't read a poem out loud to a group since before the year 2000? Shocking. Not sure how I feel about that yet. I had originally gotten out of the workshop scene because I had fallen in with humorless "feminist" writers, who basically just didn't want to deal with any men. Well, they allowed one man, but he was an elderly professor type. Now a couple of them front around Kalamazoo as the "published", and therefore "real" poets. I have avoided them and their events. But when they attempt to take over the publication of my favorite professor from college, well, it's time to start writing again.

What a great reason to jump back in - revenge?

List of Fears

2010-09-21T17:10:00.000-04:00

I have to start the low-iodine diet tomorrow to prepare me for the radiation dose in 9 days. This has meant I have spent the last 24 hours in a panic / denial. The internet is not your friend when you are in this mode. I know this, too, but couldn't listen to myself.

Fear 1. I will actually have radiation side effects like losing my hair. However, that does mean I can wear a turban, which might be pretty cool.

Fear 2. I will harm Mr. Awesome with my radioactive self. I do have a plan, but I forgot to enact it. I was trying to wean him from the shoulder snuggling, but I think I get more out of that than he does. I shall just have to be strong, and play with the fishing pole toy alot.

Fear 3. I will lose my sense of taste. Literally. It's supposed to mess with your saliva glands. Although I always thought I should drool less, in general I would prefer to be moist than dry. The remedy is supposed to be something about sour candy, and I do love LemonHeads and their boxes.

4. It won't work and I'll have to do it again. I guess "easy" radiation is still better than chemo / radiation, so I'll just have to make it work.

5. Which is why this fear is the scariest - I won't be able to follow the low-iodine diet, which will cause the treatment not to work. But I can. I like vegetables and meat. I can have more pepperoni in 9 days.

6. But see fear 3! It will taste like tin! But it goes away in 30 days, which could just make for the thinnest birthday ever.

Close call?

2010-09-16T16:47:00.000-04:00

I'm kind of a head-in-the-sand type. I might prefer not to know. But I'm no longer allowed to do that, I suppose. I'll have to revel in my hypochondria, now that I'm a "cancer survivor".

Whatever. Last week, I had my hair cut and colored. Albert's new assistant is really pretty good at the head and neck massage. I even got a new (well, back to the original, but new if you've met me recently) color that was a pretty dramatic change. I was feeling good.

Two days later, I wake up with one eyelid covered in my ol' "psoriasis" rash that I used to get before the allergy people made me quit using every beauty product known to the market. Also, my surgery incision was kind of puffy and weird on the right side.

By Friday, I had convinced myself that it was cancer come back from the grave. I was touching my neck so obsessively, I massaged away the main swelling and ended up with a vague post-surgical tightness. That lasted all weekend.

Monday I started to believe it was an allergic reaction to the hair chemicals and took a bunch of Benadryl. I slept really well. My neck still felt tight Tuesday morning though.

Only Wednesday did I finally call the doctor to ask if this was normal. Now, part of the delay was that I couldn't decide which doctor to call. I ended up calling the surgeon. His medical assistant said, "Oh, no. That's not normal at all."

She also said the doctor was out, I'll check with him and call you tomorrow at work. I kept it together at work today quite well, I thought. Checked my cell phone a few thousand times in case she couldn't get me on the work line. Raced home and looked at the answering machine on the land line, which is of course where she called, and listened to her message that said to return her call.

Which I promptly did and got her voice mail. Then, I flipped through some magazines that came in the mail, turned on the tv and watched the end of some Bravo show, and ate a lot of dry-roasted peanuts.

She finally called and said that I could ignore the swelling, maybe lightly massage if it made it feel better. Oh. I was going to ignore it in the first place, but then ....

Rachel

2010-09-02T16:39:00.001-04:00

Grandma blows out the candles, originally uploaded by wizzybit.

My grandma died August 5. When I used to consider the concept of losing her, it felt like the end of having any kind of female guidance in my life. But I started losing her to dementia even before this photo was taken. She had fallen, broken a hip, had surgery, and it seemed so instant, like the anesthetic had cut the strings to her memory instantly.

But I'd rather remember the stubborn, gravel-voiced, cookie loving, Uno-monster of my childhood. We spent a good part of July with my grandparents every year, camping and going to the fair. She sewed most of my clothes until I was in 7th grade and taught me to sew. She always had alterations customers stopping by the house with some boring blazer or fabulous prom dress that needed adjustment. She answered the door in her slip and girdle, much to my embarassment. She made molasses cookies and homemade "ketchup" and dill pickles. She argued furiously about everything. She dined on "hamburgs" and carried a "pocketbook". We were to keep our feet off the davenport. She took baths and put my hair in ringlets whenever possible. I'm really, really really going to miss her.

Her obituary in the newspaper was pretty short. Apparently, all you could really say about her life is that she was a homemaker, 4-H teacher, mother, church-goer, and these were the progeny. I guess that makes my obituary even shorter, if I haven't had any children. But she was such a big personality, it seems wrong. So here's my internet rambling about Grandma Bassett. I'm going to learn to make pickles and I hope she will help me.

Well, that was pretty dull.

2010-07-16T16:15:00.000-04:00

I can see why there's not exactly a lot of thyroid cancer blogs. I feel exactly the same, except with a slightly more frequent urge to nap. Not exactly earth-shaking self-analysis or life changing.

I do have a grody scar. I should take a picture of it. It will fade. The surgeon said I will have forgotten about it all in one year.

But I probably shouldn't forget. There was a lot of goodwill and love around, and I would like to remember that and pay it forward. That sounds cheesy, but it's all you can do, and you probably can't even do that.

And I'm not exactly the same. I can't sing. I'm not saying I could sing before, but so far, I have not been able to sing anything with high notes. Not even as a joke, which I used to love to do.

So now what?

2010-06-22T10:05:00.000-04:00

Surgery was Friday. I had been crying Thursday night because I was worked up and scared, so my eyes were quick to tear. The surgeon instantly noticed and I admitted I was scared. "You don't need to be scared," he said in the least reassuring but most confident way. I knew that it was routine to him and needed to be, but it's hard to submit yourself to that kind of stuff. Just to go from person to patient is kind of a journey.

When I woke up (and truly, that's what anesthesia is like - I fell asleep, then I woke up), I could tell I had been crying more. I dread to consider what I must have seemed like to them. I had a big bandage on my neck, which Richard exclaimed was "really small!". I had a nice corner room at the hospital, right over the ambulance bay. One nurse made me walk around the floor once. The other brought me graham crackers and peanut butter to take with my pain killers. I watched a lot of crappy TV, paced around in my room. Ordered some not-bad-for-the-hospital food and ate it. Waited and waited and waited for the surgeon's partner to stop by and discharge me, and then he even offered to keep me another day. I went home.

But since I've been home, I read a whole book (a first for quite a while!), pieced together most of my afghan, laid out some jewelry, deadheaded the garden. I've talked to the office a couple of times, listened to a mix CD that Tom and Becky made for me, and watched some more crappy TV (those darn Housewives!). I'm probably not really ready to go back to work, but I'm looking bored in the eye and saying, NOT ON MY VACATION, buddy.

The scar is, so far, pretty small. Today you can kind of see the yellow bruise around my clavicle. There are 3 little steri strips holding the wound. My hands tingle when they perceive a calcium deficiency, which is frequently. Sometimes I feel like my heart might be racing, but I think that's pain.

It is exciting from the larger perspective to consider that they took out the cancer. It's gone.

Won't get fooled again.

2010-06-15T19:34:00.000-04:00

Well, naturally, that is a lie. And it relates not at all to the song, but now that you're here, allow me to whine that I've missed several apparently lucrative blog topics, so I'm not letting this one go.

For example, if you were once the editor of a fancy home decor magazine, the New York Times might publish an excerpt from your book (!!!) about having your job eliminated and feeling kind of disconnected. Oh. I did that LAST summer. Although, my job title was a little less exalted and maybe a little imaginary, and the NYT did not publish anything by me, I also felt some ennui.

Previous to that I had this great idea that I would keep track of my experiences cooking every recipe in a cool cookbook. I know, Better Homes and Gardens! That will be bland but I'll know how to make green goddess dressing eventually, right? Oh. It's been done? Darn.

So, now that I'VE GOT CANCER, I'm not letting it go. (I'm actually having it surgically removed, but I digress.) Yeah, I said cancer. Thyroid cancer. Oh sure, it's the most curable cancer that has the highest survival rate. But I've got it! And that's the point of blogging, right? Me me me.

I'm being a little sarcastic, I admit. Because I am scared. What if it has spread? What if I lose my voice? What if I gain 30 lbs? What if my thyroid was ME, and I'm not myself anymore?

Someone actually said that to me today at work, that I would not feel like myself. I nearly burst into tears. When I think about it, it's a little ridiculous. I read Eckert Tolle, I know the body is not the ego is not the soul etc, etc. But, realistically, if the body is feeling sluggish, it could make the mind more melancholy. A lot of the things that I think are "me" are body related - I love to do things that I'm good at over and over, and if I'm not "in practice" then I won't feel good at them. You know, things like running and belly dancing. These seem like especially important skills to me because I'm fairly new at them, and I don't want to lose much of the headway I've made.

So really, it will be an excellent test of being in the now, Eckert. Because right now, my throat is a little sore, so I'm about to eat a dish of ice cream. If it still hurts tomorrow, I will call a doctor or two. I suppose if they don't think it's a good idea to have surgery on Friday, I can post-pone it. Oh well. See? It's okay to have a dish of ice cream right now.

And, it's just a handy gland. Lots of other people don't have one for a lot of reasons, and look and feel fine. We can do it. We being my mind, my ego, my legs, and me.

Oops, I got a job, and I've been too busy to blog?

2010-01-12T19:18:00.001-05:00

But! This means I can write about other things than finding a job. And I'm doing 1,000 other things now, as well as the job. I mean, really, who wouldn't rather think about fashion, or photography, or music or belly dancing or running or gardening or anything but job searching?

It is also kind of sad how much happier I am working in an office, with office clothes. Is that really all it is/was? I mean, my hatred of the gardening overalls was intense, but I grew to respect the utility after some time. Still, I have much more respect for myself when wearing office clothing. It's just the way I'm motivated.

As a bonus, I still get to garden as a hobby. And volunteer, which I prefer! They've asked me to design another garden at Mount Olivet Cemetary, which I'm very excited about. In fact, I need to look up some evergreens for my perceived plan. Everyone loves evergreens in a garden, especially in the cemetary! Weeping might be a bit much, however.

My 2009 goals are to run and train for the Borgess 5k, and perform with a belly dance group. All of those should be doable. Watch me.

More smashing.

2009-07-20T10:09:00.000-04:00

Saturday, I smashed my bike helmet. It shouldn't have been that easy to do, is one excuse. I was just frustrated by the difficulty of the trail, and how hot I was on a perfectly cool day, and meant to just toss it a little and pick it up. The plastic over the foam immediately popped off (apparently just held on with a sticker!!!) and it all fell in a patch of poison ivy, ironically. I carried it until I found a trash barrell, which was another 4 miles up.

Richard had gone ahead and didn't really pay much attention to my tantrum until we stopped and talked about it. It's rare for me to be angry, really. I can't decide if it's more helpful to feel the negative emotions, or to brainwash myself with the usual positive statements. But yeah, I'm pissed, I suppose. I'm frustrated. I also know, it'll happen when it's supposed to happen.

I'll just keep pedaling for that smiley face in the clouds. There really was one. I didn't even try to take a picture, because I knew it was only visible because that's what I was looking for.

It's like running in a circle.

2009-07-15T08:06:00.000-04:00

I tried to apply for some more jobs last night. Same effect as before! Too chicken to hit the "Apply" button. But chicken isn't really the problem. Part of it is a fear of success, that I will actually have to go out and meet some people and go back inside.

This is not to say there aren't some applications out there, simmering. I haven't heard back yet, which seems like a good thing. Many of the other jobs I have applied for got back to me in less than 24 hours with rejections.

Today I'll have to call the old hospital, because I have to beef up my resume for federal jobs. They want MONTH and year, and I sure can't remember that much detail, along with salary, which I certainly don't remember. I watched a little video on the OPM (Office of Personnell Management) website last night, and the tiny federal man and his captions are correct - I will need to put some work into it, and therefore will get out of it what I put in.

In the mean time, we got a kitten (Mr. Sam Awesome!) but my father's long-time companion ("love of his life", he said) died. I'm ready for 2009 to turn around.

Breakfast of smiles.

2009-06-18T20:58:00.001-04:00

Breakfast of smiles., originally uploaded by wizzybit.

Time to get back on track again. It's so easy to space out and just eat everything in sight, and still want more. So I've been trying to make more food at home, because it is generally tastier. And presumably healthier.

The gardening is hard work and hard on my body, and I want to be able to reap some sort of benefit from it. You know, weight loss. Sorry. Girl brain. But I am proud of myself for the progress I've made. I'm not afraid of snakes. I'm not afraid of bugs. I can lift a big rototiller into a truck with help. I can work for 10 hours and still do things in the evening.

I might be ready for an office job, though. I saw one sentence (in a magazine at the yoga studio, waiting for belly dance class to begin) that sums it all up. You are who you are, not what you "do".

Manual labor = good times?

2009-05-27T22:37:00.001-04:00

Manual labor = good times?, originally uploaded by wizzybit.

I've been thinking about the "shame" of not having a knowledge worker position at this time, when the New York Times published this article (http://www.nytimes.com/2009/05/24/magazine/24labor-t.html) in the Magazine last Sunday. Although my job isn't quite as cool as fixing vintage motorcycles, I do feel pretty much the same way. It's hard to look for a "straight" job right now, because I don't even want to do it.

But I'm turning around. Janel said I was a pessimist today. I've never wanted to be seen that way, so it's time to get in gear and be the optimistic idiot that I really am. Why wouldn't I be able to make a living gardening? There's as much work as there is time and space. What was I going to do with more stuff? I love to travel! Money is for eating. There is no such thing as security, anyway.

Looking down the mountain

2009-05-19T08:34:00.001-04:00

Looking down the mountain, originally uploaded by wizzybit.

I'm back from two different trips, the only ones I had planned this summer. This is a scenic overlook on the Blue Ridge Parkway in North Carolina. Very gorgeous, but not my scene. I felt unbalanced there, and the actual wave of relief that came over me when as we drove back into the midwest flat lands was unexpected, but pleasant.

Why, indeed.

2009-05-01T15:27:00.001-04:00

Why, indeed., originally uploaded by wizzybit.

A picture I took at my former employer's parking ramp, back in December 2008. I would have added the question mark, if I'd had spray paint with me.

I'm ashamed to admit, I kind of finished smashing my old Canon point and shoot today. It was somewhat satisfying, but now I'm without a reliable camera to carry with me. I had dropped it on the stairs, trying to get a picture of Blueberry the cat, back in the day. The bottom kind of popped out, so you had to hold it together while taking pictures, to make sure the batteries were engaged. I tried to take pictures last night, but it was too frustrating. I tried some more today, and was equally annoyed, and then the smashing began. Against the dining room table, nothing too dramatic. But it's dead now.

Really?

2009-04-30T17:04:00.000-04:00

I intended to apply for jobs online today, but didn't actually click the Apply button once. Why do I feel like a 1990s PSA against marijuana usage? I guess I was just being overly literal again. Do I really have ALL of those qualifications? Of course not. I never did, even for the jobs I've already performed. We're all impostors, no?

I had lunch with my dad, also. I secretly hoped he'd have a surprise way out. Surprise! You don't have to worry about this any more because you've passed all the tests! Now, you can just kick back and travel, with daily mimosas. But, really, no one IS coming to save me. I have to do it myself.

Also filed under, "Really?" is that there's a movie coming out of that stupid Julie / Julia book. God, I hated that book. I may have been unreasonably jealous of the concept, because I love to document things like that. I did start dating each recipe in the Better Homes and Gardens cookbook as I cooked it, and it's entertaining just from a historical perspective. I haven't made banana muffins since 2007? How can that be? So maybe I'm a little more critical, because I know that I didn't follow through. Much easier to glare at Meryl Streep, I suppose.

Plants I hate

2009-04-29T23:11:00.001-04:00

I did 10 hours for the gardening job today. I was working alone again, and really, only two things happened. I found a dead bird (it looked like a robin, maybe died last fall?) and I found a 4-leaf clover.

I also decided, there's the gardening job, and there's the gardening joy. Joy usually occurs in my own yard, I'm projecting, because I don't have any of the plants I hate there. Joy and job are pretty close in this aspect, so I shouldn't make it sound too negative.

But, oak trees, why do you have to keep your leaves so long, and then drop them in the ground cover? I fish out your leathery bits for hours. And ground cover (really, most of it, but I'm especially tired of cottoneaster and vinca today), why do you have to hoard so many oak leaves? There's plenty for everyone, and I still end up leaving you quite a bit to hide, since it's impossible to pull it all out with a rake, or even your gloved hand.

A minor annoyance, obviously. At the end of the day, I took a shower and ran off to belly dancing class. After my usual circle through the alley and downtown, I ended up in my usual parking place near the movie theater. On the sidewalk, there was another dead bird, larger than the first - maybe a crow, or a pigeon? I didn't even want to look, as it was more recently deceased. I did not find another 4-leaf clover, or penny to balance it out.

I might be too old for this - or not old enough.

2009-04-27T21:39:00.000-04:00

So I was scheduled to work for Janel today in the gardening business. I had my assignment ("Try to be at my place at 8, not 8:20," she stated). It was a beautiful sunrise, all orange. I had my new SPF t-shirt on, white of course, as specified in the dress code, so I wasn't afraid of getting a sunburn this time. I knew there was rain in the forecast, but how many times have those guys been wrong? Nothing to worry about.

It's easier to pace yourself when you work alone. I spent a lot of time at the property thinking about stuff, raking contemplatively, crap that you can't get away with when you work with the team. I like that aspect of the gardening work.

But I'm afraid I'm going to forget how to wear a suit, or walk in heels, or manage a meeting. It's been 34 days since my position was "affected" by the "economy" at the old corporate hospital that shall remain unnamed. What if I just fall off the face of the corporate planet? Is that okay? Who do you check with about that?

I'm starting to think that I'm not okay with falling off the face of the planet. I tried to sign up for a job fair that is tomorrow. But when I re-reviewed the list of employers present, I realized I only wanted to work for one of them, and the positions they had available were out of my league. Like, really out of my league. Requiring a statistics background. Yeah. Not going to work. Unless I can keep Kirk on the instant messenger at all times.

So, I garden again on Wednesday. Hopefully it won't rain, like today. My poor white fancy t-shirt was dirty before I even left Janel's house, when a tarp of yard waste went over my shoulder as we hoisted it to her pick-up. Later, my cuffs turned filthy brown from the lack of coverage of my rain poncho. Hopefully the laundry will fix it up. On the other hand, it's not like I was going to wear it to a job interview on planet corporate.