So Much Nothing

I haven’t blogged about anything in several weeks, despite my firm declarations that  I would blog more this year.  So much has happened and yet nothing really has happened at all.  I have been trying hard to keep up with our AFS blog, since a lot of other host parent bloggers fell off that wagon pretty hard, and our blog is all over the AFS website. 

The other night I was mentally composing a blog post in my head and it was BRILLIANT, I tell you.  BRILLIANT.  I was listening to Sarah Bareilles’s King of Anything on the radio and singing along.  That song has become a personal anthem of sorts.  There are so many great parts in it, but here are some that really resonate with me:

You’re so busy making masks with my name on them in all caps, you’ve got the talking down, just not the listening…

You sound so innocent, all full of good intent, swear you know best.  But you expect me to jump up on board with you and ride off into your delusional sunset…

Now I have forgotten much of my brilliant post, but I’ll try to formulate below…

February was a month when a lot of people disappeared from my life.  I have done a lot of soul searching in the past 18 months or so, and I’ve discovered that if I had one complaint about myself, it’s that I allow people to treat me as a disposable commodity, a convenience to pick up and put down at will. 

There is a part of me that has always felt “second best” and been eager to accept any mere crumbs that have fallen my way.  Everybody’s pal, but nobody’s best friend (don’t get nervous, Lesley! :-D).  In one of my favorite movies, The Holiday, Arthur tells Iris she’s never the leading lady, only the best friend, and Iris realizes she should be the leading lady in her own life.  That part has always felt to me like the true soul of that film.

Until a year and a half ago, that was enough for me, or at least, I was willing to put up with it, feeling I deserved no better.  I thought that if I disagreed with my family or with my friends, it made me a bad friend, a bad daughter, a bad sister, a bad wife, a bad mother.  I would go so far as not to express an opinion about anything—books, movies, music—until I had a gauge of everyone else’s opinion first and if I disagreed, I would just nod rather non-committally and refrain from expressing an opposing view.  I think during the first 5 years my book club was in existence, I may have opened my mouth just a few times to express anything.  I was (and to an extent, still am) terrified of saying “the wrong thing”.

So many things I’d say if only I were able, but I just keep quiet and count the cars that pass by…

All my life I’ve tried to make everybody happy while I’d just hurt and hide, waiting for someone to tell me it’s my turn to decide.

Through a lot of help and especially recently talking with a good friend of mine who had similar patterns of behavior and thinking, I’ve come to realize that the worst thing that can happen is that you lose people who can’t accept that you are changing.  That you are demanding just a little bit of respect.  (Remember Dianne Wiesst in Parenthood?  “Not a lot, just a little!”  I’m full of pop cultural references today!)  That you expect honesty in your relationships.  One thing I can really and truly say is that I am sick to death of being lied to.  And I do believe that dishonesty is a major cause of many relationship problems that most of us have.

Regardless, I am not entirely innocent either and I definitely am willing to own up to my mistakes, and I have made more than a few.  So to those of you who have been offended by something I said or did, I am truly sorry.

One interesting aspect of having Penny here is that I do feel it is more incumbent on me to be a role model.  I make no show of hiding how I feel about many of Penny’s friends, who are obnoxious and rude little shits. :-D  Since the day she has arrived here, they’ve sent her nasty messages via Facebook and the things that she’s told me about what they say to her and how they treat her when she is in their presence is literally shocking.  And I suggested to her, “You are so desperate not to be lonely that you will tolerate any abuse at all just to have someone to talk to.”  And she agreed with me, which is sad.  But I have also talked with her about my own relationship issues as they’ve come up while she’s here and let her take the lead in deciding what should be done about them.  Some decisions she’s made wouldn’t have been done the way I think I would have done them, and she’s found it very interesting and I think a learning experience to see what happens in relationships and that you can survive if people you are related to or people you think are your friends bow out. I have tried to explain to her that you can say good bye without feeling resentful.

One thing we’ve talked extensively about is how each of us has our own perspective on things.  One of the things we’ve talked about with regards to friends is how whether or not I think something is true, my friend views it as true and I have to at the very least attempt to respond to their reality.  For instance, someone recently remarked that she wants to be friends with Penny but that Penny never talks to anyone.  Penny disagreed totally with that statement.  I explained to her that whether she agreed or disagreed, that was how other people saw her was as a person who didn’t want to talk to anyone.  So she renewed her efforts and now has been making good progress in the past week or two at talking with people and seeing them respond to her as a result.  (Of course, she is pissed it is now March and she is seeing results, but it’s taken till March till she’s made this type of effort!)

So, yadda yadda yadda, just some things that we’ve been talking about, things I’ve been thinking about and discussing with friends.  In light of this, I recently cleared out my friends’ list on Facebook.  I cleared off nearly 100 people. There are more that I certainly could clear off, and I may.  Every couple of days I go back through the list and chuck off a couple more that I never hear from, that I was just being nosy about, people who weren’t especially nice to me “then” and who I really don’t care about hearing from now.  In preparation for Lent, I’ve been thinking about last year’s experiment in giving up Facebook, and I’m going to do it again. During that time, I’ll make a list of the people whose updates I miss most and delete pretty much everyone else…

In other news…

Leah’s 2nd birthday is planned.  I was going to have it at Toddlin’ Time since that is her favorite place on earth.  Then when I went to reserve it, I came to find out they already had a party booked on that date, so I had to look elsewhere.  I really didn’t want to clean the house and go to the expense, and frankly after looking at it, the price to have a party elsewhere is cheaper than the expense and trouble I go to having a party at home.  So I booked her party at Wiggle Worms and then found out that the party at Toddlin’ Time is for one of her friends at TT, and we are invited to that party.  That mom had her invitations professionally printed and the whole 9 yards, and since I hadn’t, I volunteered to move Leah’s party, which I was able to do.  My dad is going to make it down since I’ve moved it, which is even more exciting!  He is also going to come down on April 20th and give us a night off for our wedding anniversary.  Woo hoo!

Choir rehearsals have started up again.  I am enjoying it.  Our theme for this year’s gala is “Going on a Sea Cruise” and we are doing all songs about the sea, so it’s right up my alley.  I have been busy helping with the silent auction by soliciting donations and I’m happy to say I’ve gotten some pretty awesome ones, so that’s cool.  I have made a lot of connections in the past 2 years of being here in the community full time, so it’s paying off for the choral society anyway!  If anyone has eighty five dollars they don’t know what to do with, feel free to come on out on April 17th at UMW and listen to us.  Tonight we started learning choreography and stuff, so it’s going to be a lot of fun!

Well, I guess I should go to bed. I’m tired and I’m babysitting my neighbor’s son tomorrow.  There’s more stuff going on, like my great yard clean up this year, but that’ll have to wait for another post!

Good night, everyone!

Wow...

I got this message in my email from a total stranger today:

You cannot be the person you were meant to be in this world as long as you are operating at a deficit by expending so much of your energy on a destructive person.

The idea of risking my own potential for some else is scary. I've never thought of it like that before.

Reminder to Self

I am extremely grateful to Andy and Melissa, who reminded me today:

Evil will eventually destroy itself...just don't let it destroy you in the process.

And a late entry from Twitter:

For every evil, there are two remedies: time and silence.

Random Things that Amuse Me

I haven't really got much to blog about lately, but a couple of things have happened that don't really fit anywhere else and I thought maybe they'd be fun as a post on their own.

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The other day, I was gassing up at a Sheetz during my regular work day. As part of the state's business practices, when you gas up your state car you have to enter a series of codes into the gas pump before it allows you to pump gas. One of these is the odometer reading, which I am always silently repeating to myself over and over and over again so that I won't forget it while entering in the other numbers. (I like WaWa by the way because their pumps make you enter the odometer reading first.)

So I had just started the complex ballet of number crunching when I hear from the pump next to me, "Hey there darlin', can you help me out a minute?" in a smooth talkin' southern accent. (Incidentally, since I've dropped 64 pounds, I've gone from being "ma'am" to "darlin'" in a heartbeat with men.)

My northern instincts immediately kicked in and I sized this dude up, but so did my Commonwealth of Virginia Employee instincts, which I feel mandate me to be cheerful and polite to everyone until I have to kick them in the nuts. So I put a smile on my face and ask the guy, "What's happening?"

"I been strugglin' with this damn thing all day, can you help me put it on?" And he hands me a bracelet.

I think my eyebrows shot up into one of those, "Are you f'ing kidding me?!" type of looks because he looked at me kind of pleadingly and said, "It's the darnedest thing, I just can't work the clasp."

This dude was driving a pick up on steroids, blaring out the C&W music, and wearing a cowboy hat, I am not making this up. But he was stymied by a lobster clasp on a bracelet.

"Ok," I said, and took the bracelet from him and clasped it on his wrist. "There you go."

"Thank ya. You all have a great day now," he said and got back in his truck and took off.

Go figure.

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One of my husband's favorite games in the car is to play "Who sings this, Susan?" He knows I'm incredibly pathetic at knowing band names, and also at knowing songs. Very often, he'll say something like, "Don't you love that song 'This House'?" and I'll be like, "I don't know that song" and he'll play it and of course I know it. But even more fun is putting on a random radio station that caters to classic rock or oldies and making me guess who the hell is singing.

I pride myself on playing with panache, if not accuracy. I've never made up a band name, but I've been tempted, since after a couple of hours of being wrong, it can get a bit tiresome.

But the other week we were driving up north for some reason and we were listening to 95.9, Fredericksburg's Classic Rock Station and a song came on. And he starts. "Who's this, Susan?" I didn't know the song playing, but to me it sounded like Mick Jagger, so I said, "It's the Stones."

He was positively gleeful at my lack of musical knowledge. "That's not the Stones!" he mocked me.

Well, the announcer came on and, you guessed it, announced that it was, indeed, the Stones, and the song was "Under My Thumb" I think? That is officially my favorite Stones song ever now. Thanks, Mick and the boys!

Ponderable

Yesterday for lunch, I was eating the General's salad from the Melting Pot. For some reason, it had bleu cheese on it. I thought I had picked it all off, but sadly, I was mistaken and got a full bite.

My question is this:

Why the heck does anyone eat bleu cheese? It smells like vomit and tastes like moldy sneakers.

A Little Note to The Government

Dear Uncle Sam:

I am a law abiding, tax paying citizen of this land. I pay my bills on time, including the taxes on my property, my car, my income. I put money aside each month, trying to save for emergencies. I don't loan money out to people I know to be risky in terms of paying me back. I've been paying my federal student loans since I left college in 1997. I pay my mortgage on time, credit card bills, the car payment, my ridiculous medical expenses. I pay the kid who cuts my lawn. I buy gas for half the universe--the truckers who haul the things that I buy in stores, the freight operators who fly my mail around, hell, I was on the hook for gas for my social worker if it came to that. I have worked my ass off for years in a fairly thankless job to pay back that "free" graduate school ride you "gave" me.

And I've been doing it, mostly without complaint. I figure I'm lucky not to live in a hurricane-stricken area of the country right now. I figure I'm lucky to be able to afford these things.

But I didn't get here from being stupid. I didn't get here from taking risks where there wasn't a pretty good chance of a decent pay off.

But today, today I woke up and I saw where you bailed out another sinking ship to the tune of billions of dollars. Some of which are MY dollars, thank you. And I don't even get a say so. So I'd like to make a proposal to you.

I propose that you give me a bail out. It's getting kind of hard out here. I've cut back on a lot of things. My husband and I eat out once a week MAYBE, and even then only if I'm too exhausted to even put something in the microwave. I've switched to buying generic drugs, foods, household products. My rabbit even eats generic pet food. My husband and I have given up on taking our weekend drives in the country. We skipped Myrtle Beach this year. And still, I have to say, it's getting to be a struggle. We've trimmed the fat. What's left to trim? Oh, we're not hurting, per se, but we could--and in my opinion, should--be doing better.

So I want my cut. After all, I'm not proposing to put thousands of employees out of work from my own stupidity. I haven't behaved in such a manner that is causing global turmoil in the financial markets. Shouldn't there be a reward for good behavior?

I'm tired. I'm tired of getting up every day and going to work and doing good and basically getting pennies for it--and all because the people in government don't seem to think that my chosen field deserves reimbursement from medical insurance. I'm tired of hearing that our budget has been slashed and having to explain to doctors that I can no longer afford to pay for an exam for a client with no insurance.

My two big vacations this year? Both will be spent with my family, one on the road and one here at home. When was the last time one of these corporate big wigs took a vacation that didn't involve island hopping, seeing the continenet, maybe cruising the Amazon, or wasting away in Tahiti?

So, I've tried to decide what would be fair. I don't need $85 billion--who does? (AIG, I know, I know.) Hell, I don't need $1 billion. I'm going to make you an offer. How about a cool, tax free even million dollars? And here's what you'll get for your investment in me:

1. I'll pay off my student loans once and for all. So see? You're already getting money back.

2. I'll pay off my mortgage. See? More money that will probably directly benefit you by helping out the banks.

3. I'll pay off my car loan. Ditto number two: helping out the bank.

4. With what's left of the rest of the cash, I'll quit my job, and take one hell of a vacation. To make it fair, I'll stay inside the US. I will spend money in restaurants, on car rentals, maybe even on a plane ticket. I will rent a cottage or a condo on the beach and I will not lift a single finger for myself. I will pay some people to do it for me. Think of the boost for the suffering tourism trade!

5. And then my husband will, knowing him, probably go back to work. We'll go back to paying our income taxes, our Social Security taxes, our property taxes, our car taxes, our utilities, and all the rest of it. So you're still going to make some money off of us. Probably more now that we won't be able to deduct the interest from our mortgage. You're still winning! Though us adopting might put a little cramp in your style in terms of how much money you might get back--an extra deduction or two will hardly be noticed though, right?

It is my completely unstudied opinion on the matter that if you gave most sensible Americans a good dose of cash (what the hell was $1200 supposed to do for us in today's economy?), we would probably use it in ways that would boost the economy and help out the ailing financial system--paying off credit card bills, mortgages, car loans, medical debts, tax debts. Of course there are yahoo's out there who will blow the entire million on cigarettes and beer, and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't going to maybe finally own a hot little convertible with a little chunk of the cash (one wants to look stylish cruising the beach), but for the most part, I think you would find people paying off bills and making their lives more comfortable. The money would flow up, these companies would stabilize, and we could call it even.

So whaddaya say? Do you have a cool million for me? If so, you know where I live. Check my last tax return. The address is the same.

4.26.08

The date that shall be forever known as the first day I paid $40 to fill my car with gas.

This sucks. At this rate, we will be going nowhere any time soon. I can't see paying a pile of cash to just put gas in the car before I can even get somewhere, let alone then pay money for lodging, meals, entertainment, etc. And flying is no better--they pump up the price just so they can cover their fuel costs.

Good thing I gave my dad his fireworks already. It's going to be a hot, lonely summer if this keeps up.

Hot Topics

So I was sitting around thinking today about how funny it is that my NKOTB post has become a hot topic--comments in the double digits! I was wondering what other posts might be as hot for conversation as that one, and so I went through quickly and looked at the number of comments I'd gotten on each post. My arbitrary number for "a lot" of comments was 7 or more, because I've actually got a fair number with 5or 6 replies.

So, what were my hottest topics?

*New Kids on the Block
*Mariah Carey screeching Christmas carols
*Painting my mom's dining room/going to Steak N Shake
*How cute my husband is
*Finding a decent sub sandwich
*Staying friends with people you've known forever
*Going to Las Vegas
*Protesting the war

To follow up on the sub sandwich topic, the current sandwich in the lead is WaWa's Italian sub. It's very good and flavorful, it's only flaw is a paucity of vegetables. You can get extra meat or extra cheese, but you can't order extra veggies. Bad WaWa! We've got another place on the list to try, but it's pretty far from the house, so I suspect it'll have to be AWESOME before we make it a regular stop. There's also a new sub shop going in next to the closest Starbucks, so it's possible that one might be an option.

So I'm figuring since I listed all the hot topics, this should be a pretty swingin' post. The closest I've gotten to breaking 20 comments was the NKOTB post which is up to 14. Several other posts have hit 13. It's just funny what captures our interest!

Been a While...

Not much new going on in Fredericksburg right now, and I am enjoying the relative calm. I have been using the time to work on improving myself--namely by flat out telling people what I need in order to be a happier, less stressed person.

Of course, I am doing it in a good way. Recently at work, I was asked to take over my sixth county. Since it's a county right near our house, I thought this would be a great way to do some work closer to home. Still, it's another county. After a couple of months, I was just spending too much time in the car. So on Monday, I decided to screw up my courage, hitch up my pants, and ask my boss to take away my furthest territory, and the territory I hate the most: northeastern Prince William County.

I took this turf over from another colleague who was having some trouble managing his caseload. And I met some real nice people out that way. But it was too far. So I spoke to him about it and he about bent over backwards giving it away to someone else. It was amazing and empowering that I could stand up for myself in an assertive way and get a positive result. The thing I feared--being in for a fight that I would ultimately lose--did not come to fruition. I can feel my blood pressure falling.

I've also started to demand some respect for myself from others. It is no longer OK with me that people treat me like a doormat. This is something my husband has been coaching me on for years and all but begging me to modify my expectations about how I will be treated by other people. It's not easy. Some of the chief "offenders" are the people I love the most. But I have finally stood up and said, "It's not OK for you to treat me that way, and you wouldn't if you had any respect for me as a person." This, of course, has not been met with as much success as my previous paragraph's raging success, but I hope that someday in the very near future, it will work itself out and I'll get just a little bit of the respect I'm finally starting to understand that I deserve.

Jacalyn and I have started our writing club, and I am sharing my books with her, which is waaaaaaaaaaaaaay outside my comfort zone. We sit in a coffeeshop and Tuesday nights and I read her stuff and she reads mine. Not only is it really difficult to have her reading my stuff, but the pacifist in me does not want to give an honest critique of what she's written. I want to tell her that everything is brilliant. I want her to tell me that my every word is brilliant. But neither of us is going to progress as a writer that way. So I'm trying to screw up my courage again and be constructive in telling her what, from my perspective, could be improved and listen with an open mind to what she's telling me from my book could be improved. And I'm making progress. My goal for this week is to do my bang-up cut and paste job of my last 2 NaNoWriMo books and squeeze them into one big book, and then start editing the hell out of it. The bad part is that Jacalyn is telling me to add, add, add, and I feel like I need to subtract, subtract, subtract. I know it will all come together in the end, and I feel so proud of myself for having accomplished as much as I have. Having read book 2 to Michael recently and gotten his extremely positive reaction to the story, not necessarily the details, I feel like I'm on to something good.

Speaking of things in the fear department, I faced a minor fear head on (literally) last week. I had a new client to go visit, and this new client (I'll call her Ann) owns her own horse farm. I hate horses, I'm going to be honest. I can't recall ever wanting one, I've definitely never ridden one, I may have pet one when I was about 8 years old or so, but they kind of scare me. They're so big and powerful, and the idea of falling off one or getting kicked in the chops by one or some other tragedy has kept me away from them. One of my other clients also has a horse farm and as I was writing my NaNo book this year, I stopped to take some pictures of her horses in their riding pen. Her horse Sunny came over to the fence to see what I was doing and I literally hopped in the car and peeled out of there. That tells you something about my feelings for horses.

So, Ann asked me about my feelings towards horses, and I was honest with her, stating that I fully respected her love of her horses, but that I was somewhat afraid of them and didn't really like them. She announced that we were going to the barn when the evaluation process was over. I swallowed the fear and followed her out there.

We no sooner got in the gate when this horse ambled over to me. She was a big brown pregnant mare. Ann informs me that this mare is a real lovefest. And then this old white horse ambles over, and Ann informs me that he is about 20 years old and loves people too. So there I am, back to the gate, being stared in the face by two of the biggest horses I have ever been near. And I kid you not, the brown horse puts its head on my shoulder in a sort of a hug and the white horse licked my hand.

I obligingly scratch their heads and pat their noses, smiling in a hopefully non-threatening way when Ann hands me some horse treats and I actually fed them. Ok, ok, maybe horses aren't so bad if they're like those two.

As for books, I have thus far completed 11, and am in the middle of four more. I am struggling to get through Malika Oufkir's Stolen Lives: Twenty Years in a Desert Prison, which was recommended to me by a friend. I've been soldiering through against my better judgement, but there are a number of other great books out there that I'd much rather be reading that I am considering ending the quest. I've put it aside at any rate. Most of my January books have been non-fiction, and they take me longer to read. In fact, 7 of the 11 I've completed are non-fiction, and of the 4 I am "currently reading", it's a 50/50 split. It's interesting, I have never been much of a non-fiction reader, but suddenly, I'm really into reading people's memoirs.

Next week marks the 9th anniversary of the day the General and I became an item and started going steady. :-) We are looking at our options to celebrete ten years together next year. It hardly seems possible, and yet, it is. I'm grateful he's put up with me and all my baggage for this long. I hope he'll continue to do so for at least another 9 years!

Random Thoughts on a Saturday Morning

1. Christmas cards are done!! (Barring any surprise arrivals in the mailbox) WOO HOO! I'm so glad to have that over with. I just have to mail them this morning.

2. Project Runway really sucks this season. They really built it up for us--these are the best designers we've ever had, this is the best season yet, and to me, it's really falling flat. I think the challenges have been boring, the designs have been a yawn, and the cooked up drawmuh amongst the designers has been dumb. The only thing I've been glad about is Carmen getting the boot two weeks ago. I couldn't stand her. The people left that I can't stand are people who, if they left, would take what little pizazz the show has left with them. I hope it heats up, because I am watching what happens and I'm very disappointed.

3. My cell phone is beeping downstairs. Presumably this indicates that the battery is dying. Crap.

4. My sister and I may very well be geniuses. We were discussing the Hollywood writer's strike the other day and came to a conclusion. Practically no one seems to care. Why? Well, the conclusion we came to is that TV execs have been messing around with the schedules so much that it's hard to notice that there's nothing on. For instance, I'm a big-time LOST fan. But last year, they would show lost for 3 weeks, then it was gone for a month, then it was back for a month, then it was gone for 6 weeks. This just seems to me like those weeks when they messed with the schedule. The only people I really hear complaining are late night talk show buffs. But I don't watch it, so I don't miss it.

5. I need an address book. People need to quit moving. I opened my file last night, which admittedly I haven't updated in ages, and it still had my sister living in China, I didn't know half the people I know now who get cards, and a bunch of people in the box are dead. That sucks.

6. Time to get moving. We're going to a Christmas concert today and Michael has invited some Pittsburgh fans over for tomorrow's Steelers-Patriots game. I'm going to have to get some major cleaning done. Yesterday I cleaned out my closet and bureau and have 2 boxes of clothes for the Goodwill. Wonder what today will bring. :)

Huh?

I haven't blogged in almost a week, so you're getting a few quickies tonight. Plus, I can't sleep. Quit complaining. hehe

I saw a bumper sticker on a car today that really confused the crap out of me.

The car had Texas plates and the bumper sticker read: "My governor is a Jewish cowboy."

As my friend Debbie would say, "What!?"

Are We Getting Stupider?

What's with these commercials for Ambien and Lunesta, two FDA approved sleep medications, that now warn you the drugs may cause drowsiness!? Is anyone really so stupid to think that they'll take a sleep medication and feel awake and alert?

I shake my head and wonder how humankind has managed to survive these thousands of years.

The Feel of Books

I've just finished reading two books--one I got on Paperback Swap, the other I picked up at Riverby Books. Both were well used and a bit more worn than I care for my books to be, but for some reason, that didn't bother me one bit.

Both books had spines that had been cracked, and their covers were bent a bit at the corners, soft and flexible from previous use. The pages were well worn and a few had been bent over to mark a previous reader's place. I dodged the bullet where stains and cigarette smoke were concerned.

When I read, I never fully open my paperbacks. I want the spines looking as pristine as they day I bought them. I can't claim the same where my covers are concerned--I'm not always the most careful book layer-downer, and there have been times in the past when I've fallen asleep with a good book and awoken to find the cover bent under a stray arm or my husband's foot, the cover turned back sadly, wondering what it did to deserve such treatment.

Until recently, I haven't really bought or gotten used books, preferring firsthand copies. And some of the books I've gotten have been in first rate condition, clearly read by readers like me, who believe in preserving the integrity of the construction of books.

And I don't know if it's that I enjoyed the stories these two little abused volumes told so much that their own history appealed to me, or if maybe I'm just mellowing. But they look just as good to me on my shelf as all those books I've taken the trouble to keep new.

(And while you're at it, do yourself a favor and go read The Dive From Clausen's Pier and The Magic of Ordinary Days.)

Pet Peeves and General B***hin'

Ok, here's a question for you...

When you click "Remember me" to add a cookie to your computer so you don't have to constantly re-log in to a website, say...oh, I dunno...BLOGGER OR MYSPACE...why doesn't it remember you??? Why do I have to re-log in every stinkin' time I come on here? And you know how you tell Microsoft to "remember my passwords"???? It doesn't. I'm a product evaluator for PineCone research, and I swear, I've told it to save my Pinecone password about 6,000 times, and it never does... Nor does it remember my Blogger password.

Tomorrow (Tuesday), we're supposed to get the mother snowstorm. And tomorrow (Tuesday) is one year since I've broken my leg. What do you want to bet we don't get so much as one flake? Everyone I work with is counting on a day or two off, planning what to do with their free time--we've been planning these days for weeks, because every week for the last month, we're supposed to get a storm. And every week, nothing's happened. And I'm darned near willing to bet it'll be a big zero tomorrow too.

I hate being sick. I just wanted to re-iterate that.

I hate my own disorganization. I went to a client's the other day with some paperwork for her to fill out, and didn't take it in, so I told her I'd bring it with the equipment tags I needed to give her. Today I arrived with the equipment tags and not the paperwork. AUGH!

The bookshelf saga continues.

Tonight we drove over to Walmart and I got 2 bookshelves, very similar to the ones I already had, for a grand total of $60 (the Ikea shelf was $185). Michael and I get it out to the car, and he misunderstands what I'm telling him about putting the shelf in the trunk of the car, and the cart tips over, the shelf goes on the ground, and when he and I both dive to try and get the shelf picked up, we smack heads.

I get the shelves home, we haul them downstairs, and I put the first one together. I'm thinking this should be about a 20 minute job--I've put them together before.

Nope. The first one alone took me an hour. I put it together upside down, backwards, and inside out. I got so pissed off after putting the first one together that the second one is still in the box. A project for another day when I feel better and I'm not tired.

I miss my PopPop, he died 14 years ago tomorrow. I would do damned near anything to talk to him again. F***ing cancer. I hate it.

I really, really, really feel sh***y about missing Nancy's party. Everything feels like it's falling apart. The couple formerly known as our friends have disappeared off the face of the earth while they plan to get hitched up and haven't bothered to tell anyone for some reason, and Judy's depressed about being unemployed, and and and! And then some stupid broken bookshelves and a stupid stupid head cold prevented me from going to see one of the best friends I've ever had. Yeah, thanks a lot, Fate.

Ok, and I have a "to read" pile of about 15 books at the moment, and there is one person who lent me a book, and every time I see them, they ask me "Did you read that book yet?" No, I haven't read that book yet. I'm currently trying to get through my freakin' book club book. Your book is on the pile. PATIENCE. I only have 2 eyes and 2 hours a day to read.

So, it's 10 past 10 on a Monday night. I'm sitting here in my home office, crying my eyes out, missing my family, wishing I could talk to someone, anyone who'd understand and listen and not say, "Well, this is how I feel" or "This is what's going on in my life" or "I don't know what to say"... Don't say anything if whatever you think you might say might piss me off. Just listen. Say, "I love you" and let it go.

What's Wrong With Good Ole Fashioned...

...hand washing?

This has been bothering me since it happened a week and a half ago, so I've decided to blog about it...

This comes with the disclaimer that: I AM NOT A PARENT. So I really can't say for sure that I wouldn't be the same, but I don't think I would... But I don't know.

So, every now and again, a news story comes up that basically states that with all the drugs and such that we are using nowadays, we are creating a hearty strain of bacteria and germs that are antibiotic-resistant.

Just yesterday on NPR they were talking about how handwashing is the single most important thing you can do to reduce the spread of germs, and how 78% of people either a) don't wash their hands at all after using the bathroom; or b) don't wash their hands long enough to do any real good after using the bathroom. SEVENTY EIGHT PERCENT. That's just gross. And I was just patrolling the CDC website and several others, and they have actually launched campaigns about handwashing. CAMPAIGNS. Meaning tax dollars are being spent to tell people to wash their hands. What the hell? Weren't we supposed to learn to do this in kindergarten?

So anyway, the other day, I was in line at my new favorite place for lunch, Panera. And in front of me were 3 women, and each woman had 1 or 2 children with her. They had just come in from someplace, I don't know where, but they must have been outside, since they were dressed for it (sunhats, sweaters, etc.), and the kids looked a bit dusty.

They had given each kid a piece of bread from the sample tray, and the kids were happily running around, screaming, eating their bread, and just being kids. All of a sudden, one of the moms, in the midst of ordering I might add, shrieks, and demands her child comes over to her, takes the bread away and begins madly rifling through her purse. She is somewhat manic because she can't find her Purell. Mom #2 offers her bottle, and she squirts some on the kid's hands and makes her rub them together, then gives her the bread back and continues ordering.

So my brain immediately starts working, and I started to wonder all of the following...

1. The kid had already eaten half her bread. Why didn't they go in the bathroom when they entered the store and WASH THEIR HANDS???

2. Purell does a bang-up job of killing germs, but aren't the kids hands still dirty?

3. Isn't 2 or 3 years old a bit young to use Purell?

4. Since she used a sizeable glob of Purell and it didn't evaporate entirely on the little girl's little hands, isn't possible that said child was now eating Purell on her bread?

5. Is such a use of Purell leading us down the primrose path of finding Purell-resistant bacteria? And then what? Are we going to have to dip our hands in bleach? And what happens when bleach no longer works?

The thing is, Purell has its uses, and I use it regularly, because I see so many clients, and some of them are quite ill or don't live in the most sanitary conditions, and for me, it's a good stop gap between houses or between places I can wash up. But in no way, shape, or form, does it take the place of handwashing.

I dunno, maybe it's a symptom of our "gotta have instant gratification, instant results" culture these days. For the folks who now Swiffer instead of mopping, and reheat potroast from a plastic bag instead of cooking, maybe Purell is the just the logical next step to handwashing. But it strikes me that it a) doesn't solve every problem and b) could lead to bigger problems down the road.

(I never knew I was such a hygiene freak)

Sites on handwashing:

http://www.accessexcellence.org/AE/AEC/CC/hand_background.html

http://www.mass.gov/dph/cdc/handwashing/hw.htm

http://www.pmcguam.com/resource/handwash.htm

http://www.handwashinghelp.com/

All Grocery Stores Are NOT Created Equal

Ok, well, basically since I'm cheap bastard, as my husband would say (he wouldn't call me a cheap bastard, but he uses the phrase occasionally), I have always shopped at the grocery store on the corner. Until recently, said grocery store was a Food Lion. Around Memorial Day, they underwent intensive remodelling and re-opened as a BOTTOM DOLLAR FOODS...

Now, prior to this change, the Food Lion was not too bad a place. It looked a little dated, but I shopped there because a) it was the same food loads cheaper than Yuppie-Heaven/Giant; and b) it was close to the house. There was a nice mix of people there--some like me who wanted to save money, a lot of single people, and a lot of folks who didn't appear to have a lot of money too, judging by their WIC checks and such. (I have no problem with those people, incidentally, I know a lot of people in my hometown who, through no fault of their own, had to depend on WIC a lot, and saw the good it did.)

Damn, I'm getting off on a lot of tangents here.

ANYWAY.

Immediately after the place became Bottom Dollar, it was advertised as THE place to save. They eliminated the deli, widened the aisles and dropped about 4/5 of their products. They advertised that while most grocery stores carry about 30,000 items, they would carry 6,000 and all of it quite cheap. Ok, fine with me... But I immediately had a couple of beefs with the place.

Number one, they now charge for grocery bags. This royally pisses me off. I flat out refuse to pay for them. I would much rather pay an extra penny on my Cheez-Its than pay 5 cents for a stupid grocery sack. What the hell?

Then I started shopping. They have the strangest system. Not only do they only have 6,000 items, but they don't have the variety you might expect.

For instance, let's take the aforementioned Cheez-Its. They have 6 or 7 varieties and brands of Cheez-its. This appears to be a big ticket item in the Bottom Dollar food chain. But, pudding? You cannot buy chocolate pudding over there. You can get vanilla, you can get tapioca, you can get rice pudding, but not chocolate. What the hell????

Well, I went in last night to pick up 3 or 4 things, and the place has just become SO low rent. Seriously. The clientele, a term I use as loosely as possible, seems to have deteriorated to the town drunks, freaks, and generally the very strange.

For instance, I was walking past the case of $2.00 Ben and Jerry's (about the only thing the store has going for it at this point) last night, when a little girl (she couldn't have been more than 9 or 10) came flying around the corner, planted herself in the middle of the aisle, and began to do the stripper dance.

For those of you who are as white as I am, let me explain the stripper dance.

I first heard about it when I rented the documentary, Rize, on my Netflix. I had heard about "clowning" and "krumping" after seeing a trailer for Rize, and they explained it very well in the documentary. It's a form of dancing the street kids have developed in LA to keep out of gangs and reduce teen violence.

And apparently, a good part of it has to do with the stripper dance. What you do is, you plant your feet about shoulder length apart, and stick your butt out, bending your knees to accomplish a good butt-stick-out. Then you just shake that thang up and down as fast as you can, like a stripper. I swear to God I am not making this up. The sick thing is, while watching the documentary, I tried it, and it's actually about the easiest dance in the world. You will never see me dance like that, but I could if I were forced to stripper dance for my life. Well, if it keeps kids off drugs, who am I to judge?

So, I here I am in the dairy aisle, surrounded by ice cream and raw cookie dough, and here's a little girl stripper-dancing in front of me, when suddenly her family comes around the corner, and she yells, "How do you like me shakin' it now!?" Mom had the decency to look slightly mortified, but not much, and the other kids attempted to run into "it" with the shopping cart.

After leaving that charming little tableau, I headed to the register, where the biggest collection of scruffy individuals I've ever seen were standing around with cases of Coors Light and a 12-year-old young lady. As I went past them, they were discussing returning to the trailer park to "tie one on"...

So, low rent patrons, payin' for bags, and no chocolate pudding is looking like it's adding up to me making a once weekly trip to Central Park to shop at either Shoppers or Walmart Supercenter. Although, I probably wouldn't get some of the entertainment out of it if I go elsewhere... It's a point to debate. We'll see what happens.

Heck yeah.

One of those Days

I had one of those days last Friday, and it's been haunting me ever since... Now, granted, EVERYONE (including my boss) told me not to worry about it, it was nothing I should get upset about, and I could just get on with my life.

To me, however, it was the meteorological event of the century. I checked my voice mail all weekend, and tomorrow is D-Day, the day I come face to face with this client who I hope I'm going to be able to help and who I hope to have a good rapport with, in spite of what was a gawd-awful beginning. All I can do at the moment is remember the sound of her screaming and crying at me--a sound that really continues to get my dander up.

Why is it so easy to dwell on this stuff? When something amazing happens, I'm happy for a day or two, and then I move on. But this happened darn near a week ago, and here I am still sweating it.

A couple of years ago, my dad and his then-girlfriend Barb went and took a trip across country. It was the adventure my father was always dreaming of taking, and Barb has a good eye for travelling cheap, so off they went.

When they were coming back after hitting California, they went to Colorado and started climbing a big peak in the Rockies.

To hear my dad tell it, he knew he was running low on gas, but didn't want to waste time seeing the amazing panorama, so up they went, and, you guessed it, the "low fuel" indicator came on.

When they got up there, they asked about gas, and were told they'd have to go back down the mountain when they were done and get it. Dad was told not to worry, just put the car in neutral and glide down the hill.

To hear my dad tell the story, it was the greatest adventure of the whole entire trip. He described the scenery, the people, the car, and gliding quietly down a big mountain road...

All Barb talked about was how pissed off she was that he put them through "that"...

I want to be more like my dad in that regard. I've made great strides in finding the positive and letting most people's issues glide off my back (particularly after reading The Four Agreements chapter on not taking anything personally). But when I can't, man can't I!!!

So my struggle for the week is getting through about 4 hours tomorrow morning and then moving forward. I know once it's over, I'll wonder what I ever got so worked up about.

State o' the Union

Well, I didn't watch the State of the Union address last night. Not only can't I stand the sight of W's face, I can't stand the sound of that man's voice. Although, I was sorely tempted after meeting Dave Barry, who stated what concerns him about the President is that he always appears shocked at the policies he's announcing when he gives a speech... "We're invading...Iraq!?" "We're studying...social security?!" It was funnier in person with the appropriate face being made.

In any event, judging by the 2 news reviews I've read and Brian's always astute commentary, I don't think I missed a whole lot.

I plan to write to my senators today and let them know that never in my life have I felt more disconnected from the United States Government. I've never felt it's doing less for me, it's listening less to me. The only good thing is that the word impeachment is finally starting to be uttered around Washington. I suspect if the Dems win in the fall, we will see it coming.

What it comes to is, the guy is a fraud. A major fraud. (re-reading that statement, "No shit, Sherlock" popped into my head.) But I don't think a lot of people sit and conciously think about it. I mean, they can't be, right? Otherwise, would we be in this predicament?

Unfortunately, I don't see anything much better coming down the pike for the Dems. I predict they'll win in the fall, but I can't see them winning the next presidential election. I have a feeling they'll be up against McCain, who the Repubs must know is the ONE candidate they can throw up that anyone will vote for who isn't a registered Repub.

Finally, although I know Brian disagrees with me, my girl Cindy Sheehan continues to make me prouder of her every day. She is just the kind of radical voice we need out there when most people sit on their butts and complain from the privacy of their own homes and don't actually DO anything. I wonder if she could have known a year ago that she'd have made the kind of impact and the kind of statement that she has been throwing out there. One person CAN make a difference--and I support her 100%.

Welcome...

Well, ever since I quit blogging on the Feckless Thug domain and then switched hosting providers, which caused my last blog to die a painful, horrible death, a few folks have been asking if I'd ever plan to return to blogging...

So, here I am...

Which leads me to wonder what the point is of me being here.

I'm probably not that interesting a person to be blogging on a regular basis...

And as my father would probably say if he knew anything about it, I did crap out on that National Novel Writing Month thing. So we'll see if I have the sticktoitiveness to actually follow through on this thing for more than a few months.

So... Kate...

Kate, Kate, Kate.

Why?

Well, as most anyone who's going to read this thing knows, I grew up being called Kate, not Susan. When I went off to college and had to fill out all those fun applications, they ask for your first name, which is, in fact, Susan. And in one stroke of the pen, I became Susan.

I suppose I could have changed the sign on my door the first day I moved in and gone back to Kate, but I did feel like I was getting a whole new identity, something I hoped to find in college away from my small town and my family, so the name stuck.

Of course, off and on during the years, it has caused a few moments of hilarity... Most famously perhaps is the first time my husband called me at home when we first met, and spent a few minutes talking to my mom (also named Susan), before they both figured out they had the wrong people!

And of course, there's nothing like hearing either my dad or my sister stammer, "Kaaasusan, kate, susan, whatever your name is, get over here!"

I've never had a problem answering to either name, when I hear either one, I look to see who's asking for me.

But my mom was here recently, and she calls me Kate unapologetically, without hesitation, and as soon as she left, my sister started calling me that (in public no less! THE HORROR!), and it felt right, warm, familiar.

So I think I'll find small ways to ease back into it, but of course, only with the expectation that the people who call me Sue or Susan can continue to do so, and the people who call me Kate or Katie (but NEVER Kathy!) can do so too!