Mini Mumblings

Every 2 years, whether I need it or not.

2011-08-16T10:46:00.002-06:00

Wow. Really? 2 years? Huh.

So, I'm about to resuscitate the blog, for the purpose of mumbling about our adventures in following the inaugural USA Pro Cycling Challenge (which really needs a new name, but that's another topic). And in looking at my last post, it occurs to me that there are a couple of updates to be made, for those that only know me through this blog (both of you).

A few months after that post, I jumped in and officially started a travel agency. Extremely part-time, mind you, but still. My company is called "Let's Go That Way", because it fits my overall travel style.

About 6 months after that post (January 2010), I got laid off from the full-time ad trafficking job that had been paying the bills. I was pretty gutted, but had the presence of mind to say "Wow, I understand, but that still really sucks. By the way, can I have your travel business?"
And he said Yes.

Most days, I'm very grateful for that, as it's launched me into being a bona-fide (though still very part-time) travel agent. I even have my IATA card and everything. Now, if we can just afford to save on travel, we can make use of a few discounts.

I've since accepted another full-time trafficker position -- in fact, have been here over a year -- to help pay the bills. But I've kept my original corporate client, who has pointed several others my way. And I've had the good fortune to have several friends, family & neighbors trust me with their travel plans, and have picked up a few random clients who found me on Google.

I still hope to do this full-time, in the not-so-distant future. But it won't pay the bills (unless I actively seek out luxury clients, who frankly, don't see travel the same way that I do).

So there you go. Quick update on the career path of someone you may or may not know.

Up next: How the Cute Blonde Boy and I fare, when spending the better part of a week together in a Dodge Durango.

Long time, no mumble.

2009-07-17T08:25:00.002-06:00

I blame Facebook.

I get all the updates I need from people I know (and many I hardly know) in nice little snippets.

I'm convinced I have some sort of ADD, and that's not helped by getting away with not reading more than 2 sentences (max) about anyone else's life.

Still, I find myself this morning feeling like I need to mutter on a bit more than a FB-sized statement, so here we go.

I'm at a crossroads. Or maybe not. Maybe I'm on the (career) highway I've been on for about 9 years now, and starting to look longingly at the side roads. They'd let me go a little slower (which means not as good a salary), but they'd almost certainly be more interesting.

I like ad trafficking -- the instant gratification (could that be related to the suspected ADD?) is something I thrive on. I like that things are always changing. But I'm pretty uncertain of my future in this company (since my friend/coworker got sacked unexpectedly, and for reasons that I think were made up), and I'm not sure how much I can trust my superiors. And that's not a happy work environment.

But the prospect of my stock options panning out (which could easily mean 2+ years' salary equivalent) is a pretty strong draw. That's probably at least a couple of years away, though -- and I don't know if I can be that patient.

I do the Passion Parties, which I love. But I've been a bit of a slug recently, and haven't done more than 2 parties in the past 8-10 months.. That's about to change, as I have 3 scheduled in the next month, and 2 more potentials 8 weeks from now.

What I'm looking into right now is being a home-based travel agent.

I don't have any delusions of getting free travel and jetting all over the world, or of making millions at this -- I know better than that. But if I can supplement our income a little bit, and get the joy of helping people plan their vacations (probably focusing on Europe), and maybe get a little discount or upgrade here and there, that would be grand.

Does this classify as a mid-life crisis? Or does that need to involve a sports car of some sort?

Is it so much to ask?

2008-02-14T15:08:00.002-07:00

When did it become illegal to have sleeves on a wedding dress?

REAL sleeves, mind you, not the crappy little cap sleeves that merely magnify the upper arm of any woman who does not focus 2 hours a day on tricep presses.

A sleeve that maybe covers the widest part of the arm, yet doesn't encase the entire arm in a suffocating, that-summer-heat-is-gonna-git-ya layer of organza.

Seriously. Do this, next time you're in the grocery store or bookstore:
Pick up a bridal magazine -- I don't care which one.
Open it up to a random page, and if that page has a picture of a dress -- bride's or bridesmaid's either one -- make a mental note as to whether or not it has sleeves.

Repeat 9 more times.

If you get ONE picture of a dress with sleeves, then you managed to hit the one page in that magazine that had the Freak of Design.

The size 4 brides from Chicago look lovely in their strapless dresses, I'll grant you that.
But I can guarantee that you don't want my curves exposed thusly.
And I can further guaran-damn-tee you that I don't wany my curves thusly exposed and then captured by a camera for all of eternity.

I want sleeves. Not a cute bolero jacket that goes on top of a strapless dress to ADD sleeves. Not some sheer fabric that was added as an afterthought. Sleeves. Designed with granny arms in mind.

Is that so much to ask?

IQ - What's important?

2007-08-21T09:45:00.000-06:00

So, I heard a bit on the radio coming in to work this morning, and it made me wonder what my readers would answer.

Men's Health magazine asked men & women to rank 6 qualities in order of importance, in a life partner.

In no particular order, the qualities to be ranked are:

Honesty Good Looks Humor
Kindness Intelligence Ambition

So, I ask you to tell us how you would rank them. When considering a partner, how important are each of these qualites? And no wussing out by saying "They're all equally important". Pfff....

Talk about planning ahead!

2007-08-02T14:09:00.000-06:00

The other day (July 30, to be precise), I was in the grocery store, getting a couple of things for breakfast. As I rounded the corner, I caught sight of something orange.

Now, seeing as Broncos training camp has just started, and I live in "Broncos Country", that color isn't enough to raise my eyebrows.

No, what had me literally saying "Oh, hell, no" out loud while stopped in my tracks at the end of aisle 12 were the shelves full of Hallowe'en candy.

In July.

Let me repeat: "Oh, hell, no."
Add a little Maury-Povich-style ghetto neck (pretend that I'm not the translucent white girl that I am):

"Oh, HEYYYELL no."

Thass' all I got to say 'bout that.

My souvenir from France

2007-07-11T13:29:00.000-06:00

So, just got back from a 12-day trip to France, Bruxelles and London. Lovely trip. Saw the Louvre, the Eiffel Tower, the Tour de France, got engaged........

Exactly 2 years after our first date, the Cute Blonde Boy asked me to marry him. Without a moment's hesitation, I said "Yes!". We were on the barge, moored temporarily at Lagny-sur-Marne for lunch. The group had gone into town to get lunch makings, and I stayed with the boat. Dejo came back early, with his birthday cake (a tasty strawberry mousse concoction, we later discovered), under the guise of needing to let it air, before putting it in the fridge. As we stood there in the galley, he said he was glad to have had the past 2 years together, and he couldn't imagine life apart, and could he ask me a question........then he dropped to one knee and asked me to marry him.

I'd had thoughts of "Wouldn't France be a lovely place to get engaged?", but tried very hard not to think about it too much, because if he had other plans and it didn't happen there, then I'd have been disappointed, and to no fault of his. But he asked, and so that question which we have been asked a gajillion times over the past 22 months finally has a definite answer.

When my last relationship ended, I tried to tell myself that there was a reason for all that. And this is it. My CBB. My beau. My sunshine. We just fit. Heck, we made it through a 2-week vacation together -- including lost luggage, traffic jams, driving in major cities and other hiccups that would have had other couples at each other's throats.

And it seems that most of you have thought for a while now, that we should be together permanently, so here we go! No details yet on date, location, any of that.....We'll just enjoy being engaged for a little while.

And the next one to ask about kids gets a stomp on the toes. :)

Girl talk.

2007-06-08T15:26:00.000-06:00

I never thought I'd actually say this, but I miss having friends in the office.

Not best friends, mind you -- I know you don't go to work to meet best friends, and I already have the best friends I could ask for, thank-you-very-much -- but friends.

Girls.

People that you can actually mention your weekend plans to, and they're interested in hearing. And you hear about theirs.

People who occasionally come over and say "Hey, I'm in the mood for a cup of coffee -- wanna run to Peaberry with me?"

I work in a warehouse full of guys. Nice enough guys, but they're guys. And they certainly aren't much interested in hearing whether I'm going to the Harry Connick concert (which was fabulous, by the way), or how my plans for the upcoming vacation are coming (fabulously, thank you).

The monthly get-togethers with the book club are great -- nearly life-sustaining for me -- but boy, I miss a little more frequent girl-time.

The girls that do work here are in a whole different social class than me. That's not to say that they're the upper eschelon of society, or white trash, or whatever. They're just single girls, more along the lines of fashionista than passionista. They could probably wear a different outfit every day for 3 weeks without ever donning a t-shirt, jeans or sneakers. They go out for drinks several times a week (with other work folks, of course), stay up far too late, stroll in 2 hours after I do, and stay late, too.

I used to get really annoyed with my co-workers who couldn't hold a conversation without inserting something about "my kids", but now I'm missing those conversations -- which were based in a reality closer to mine than the girls' here.

I wouldn't go back to the single days for all the gold in the world -- the CBB is all I could ask for, and I adore him -- but during the day, I really wouldn't mind having those type of office conversations that used to annoy me. I used to get a little tired of hearing about one particular co-worker's family (as she had rather a large brood with so many experiences each week), but when she called me this week for some work-related questions, I really found myself missing her. And -- dare I say it - her stories.

Maybe I wouldn't miss it quite as much, if the conversations around me
a) involved me occasionally

and

b) didn't always involve discussion of some deviant (and here I mean REALLY deviant) sexual act, or this hot babe or that one, or comic books.

I really never thought I'd miss those girly conversations, but then, I never thought I'd work here.

EEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

2007-03-19T12:06:00.000-06:00

Now that I have cleared the tears from my eyes, I can type.

I have just reserved a smart.

After 8+ years of wishing, wanting, dreaming and e-mailing the company to say "Can I have one now?" I FINALLY received the e-mail I'd been waiting for.

I went through a very short registration process, gave them my credit card to put $99 on (to hold my place in line, to order one when they're ready for me), and then got this page:

I wasn't able to state a preference for my ABSOLUTE favorite color of smart (lime green), but if I had to go with the red, I'd be just fine with that.

I'll be looking to get a cabrio (ever-so-cute!), so I'll hafta stock up on sunscreen. :)

Keep an eye on this space for more updates.

'Scuse me while I step outside to let out another squeal of absolute joy.

Huh.

2007-01-12T14:12:00.000-07:00

So, in chatting online with a friend -- actually, the former co-worker who is responsible for me meeting the Cute Blonde Boy -- I learned a tidbit of info that has me a little baffled.

My Ex -- the ex-husband, He Who Has Until Recently Only Been Referred To As Ratbastard -- is engaged.

Huh.

I think conventional wisdom would predict that I'd be upset. I'm not. I'm just puzzled.

Huh.

You see, when the Ex left our relationship, he did so with relatively little warning, and little to no good reason. It was several months, I think, before I finally stopped trying to figure out what it was that I'd done wrong. It was a definite breakthrough when I finally realized "It's not me." And still, I wanted a reason of some sort, so that when people asked (and they have) why it ended, I could tell them. But I have no reason. It just sortof left me saying

Huh.

Now I learn that he's not only living with someone, but has (presumably) asked her to marry him. I say "presumably", because there was never a Question when we became engaged. It was sortof assumed. So I hope he gave her at least a definite question. And then I learn that they've only been dating 8 or 9 months. Which is remarkably simliar to the timeline that we followed, Back Then.

Huh.

And I didn't learn this from him, but from a friend. I somehow doubt that he'll ever tell me himself. He'll presume that someone else will do it. He's sortof a pussy, in that regard. But still....

Huh.

Now, the timing of all of this is interesting, because I was just discussing this kind of stuff last night with the CBB. We were watching the episode of "Frasier" where Niles is faced with the end of his marriage. CBB asked if any of that resonated with me. It took me a few seconds to reply, since I had to push down the little tear that was trying to make it's way to my cheek.

"Yeah, some of it", I said. And I mentioned that whole not-having-a-reason bit. And I said that even though I didn't understand the universe's reason for that heartbreak, at the time, I see now that I had to go through that hurt to

a) meet the CBB,
b) appreciate the CBB, and
c) learn some lessons about communication, and my own psychological quirks that perhaps didn't help in the first marriage.

And he didn't judge, didn't argue, didn't seem uncomfortable, just sat there, understanding and listening.

Gads, I love that boy.

And as a result of having such a Marvelous Thing in my life now, I think I'm much better equipped to handle the news of The Ex being engaged. Instead of being all wiggy, or upset, or wanting to call him and give him what-for, or wanting to contact her and warn her of the perils that I believe may lie ahead, I just sit back and think....

Huh.

Band or bogus?

2006-12-28T13:34:00.000-07:00

I know, I know....it's been too long.

I'll write more substantial stuff eventually, but in the meantime.....

Every so often, something comes up in coversation that makes me think, "Boy, if I ever had a rock band, that's be a great name." Lately, some spam e-mails have subject lines that are clearly just a couple of random words put together, but they make a pretty good band name. Here are a few that come to mind (some from spam, some from conversations, some I just don't remember). And while I don't have a rock band, these make pretty awesome trivia team names, too.

Impotent Dodo
Bag O' Porn
Digital Potato
Respiratory Heretic
Disaster Breakfast
Ostracized Imp
Waste of Furniture
Special Guest
Can't Tell Ya (actually a band -- Dejo's brother's -- what a GREAT band name! "What's the band called?" "Can't Tell Ya")

I'll add more as I think of, or remember them. I know you've got some tucked away, too --

Update, Jan 10 2007:

Retarded Marshmallow (or "TardMarsh, for short)

Whassup?

2006-11-14T09:52:00.000-07:00

Having been inspired by 'Chelle's most recent post, I've decided I should give folks the lowdown on what I've been up to.

Had a lovely long weekend a couple of weeks ago in the Calgary area, with the CBB. The catalyst for getting us up there was his aunt & uncle's (who also happen to be his godparents) 50th wedding anniversary. WOW, does he come from a big extended family! There must've been 80 relatives there, most of whom seem to have heard that I existed, and were all anxious to meet me. They couldn't have been nicer or more welcoming.

I finally got to meet the CBB's other 2 brothers, both of whom I adored (as I was sure I would), and I met some of the aunts/uncles and cousins that I've heard stories of. It was a lovely evening, and makes me ever more certain that I'm making the right choice by keeping this Cute Blonde Boy in my life.

We stayed in Canmore, which I though was closer to banff than it is, but I imagine it was very nice anyway. The weather didn't cooperate, and the presumably gorgeous mountains were shrouded in fog and clouds most of the time. I'll upload some pictures at some point, and put those up. It's a matter of when.

The one downer to the weekend was -- oddly enough -- the B&B lady. You can see my opinion, posted for any other traveler who cares to look, on TripAdvisor.

The CBB has offered to host Thanksgiving at his place (which actually has room for more than 3 people to mingle without being elbow-to-elbow), which tickles me pink. My family will be there, and perhaps some of his, too -- we'll see. Either way, its sure to be a good day.

And finally, the rest of my time is taken up with either work, or getting ready for the Open House On Steroids (otherwise known as the Holiday Shopping Boutique) -- which I think will be a whole lot of fun, and hopefully profitable as well. If you're in the Denver area on Nov. 18, come by!!

Back to work, you!!

Wa-hoo!!! I forgot!!!

2006-10-25T14:17:00.000-06:00

So, it occurred to me yesterday that this was October twenty-somethingth. And then it hit me -- I missed it!!

On Sunday October 20, 2002, at roughly 3:15 pm, my then-husband walked out the door, never to return. It devastated me. At the time, I really thought that being married to him was the only thing defining me as a person, and I honestly couldn't see how I was going to survive without him. I held it together long enough for him to get his Beetle packed with "enough stuff to get him through the next couple of weeks" down the road, then I. Lost. It.

I really did freak out the dog (who had only been with us for about 8 months at that time), and the cat, with my crying. Not crying. Bawling. Wailing. Howling. I really don't think there were more than 15 waking minutes the rest of that day where I wasn't actively sobbing. It were awful.

But I made it through that day. And the next. And the next. And next thing I knew, it was a year gone by. People would ask me how long we'd been separated, and my reply was inevitably -- with not a moment's hesitation -- "Five months, two weeks, four days, 6 hours and....about 8 minutes."

On October 20, 2003, at 3:15 pm, I took a little break from work, went out to the picnic tables, and had a single-glass size bottle of champagne to celebrate that I'd made it through.

On October 20, 2004, I probably remembered at some point during the day that thats was the anniversary of That Day, but didn't mark it.

I have since gone from being able to quote the time since he left down to the minute, to answering "About 2 years", to "Huh. Let me think about that."

It is no longer the defining moment of my recent life. It no longer tortures me that I wasn't able to figure out what I did wrong. I no longer care whether he's dating a girl in the office, in his apartment building, or the entire hookers lineup of south side Chicago. It is simply part of my past, and I have learned many lessons from it.

There are a few lessons that I have to consciously think about applying, as I grow my relationship with the Cute Blonde Boy. But I'm hoping I've at least been able to take the positive parts of the relationship with RatBastard (though I hardly ever call him that any more) and turn them into stepping stones to a healthy, long-lasting realtionship with the AMAZING guy that I'd never have met, if it wasn't for whats-his-toes walking out on me. I don't think I'd give up the CBB now for anything, even a time machine to make changes in the first marriage.

And today, I realized that I'd let the 20th of October come and go without the history of the day even surfacing to memory. I think that's a marvelous thing.

Why, people, WHY?

2006-10-10T10:31:00.000-06:00

Quick rant:

On my way up from Castle Rock this morning (the CBB lives down that way, dontcha know), the traffic was at a crawl. Sigh. I figured it was due to the weather -- foggy, drizzly, generally icky.

We get about a mile away from where we entered the highway, and saw a pickup off on the side of the road, in a veeeery wide breakdown lane. Nobody working on it, nobody standing around, it wasn't on fire, nothing...... The only thing remarkable about it (and we did remark on it), was that there was a bit of snow on it.

Now, I expect the first snow of the year to wreak havoc on traffic, but I generally expect it to be on the ground to do so.

Not on a car, off the road.

Ugh. People, PLEASE! Just flippin' drive!

Rant done. Thanks for listening.

What a change.

2006-09-13T09:19:00.000-06:00

"Free at last, free at last, thank God Almighty, I'm free at last."

Some of you know, some of you don't, that I have recently broken out of the Cendant chains. I hadn't been happy at my job for well over a year, and was looking for the right opportunity to make a move. Trouble is, my skillset is specialized enough that darned few companies in Denver can use me, let alone pay me what I need in order to make ends meet.

I'd had Monster, Yahoo HotJobs and Indeed.com looking for jobs and sending me alerts for quite some time now, and nothing ever was quite right. Indeed.com, by the way, is my new favorite job search tool. Check it out when you need this type of service. Anyway. I opened an e-mail from Indeed one day, and it listed a job title that looked pretty interesting. As I looked through the description, I found myself thinking, "That's what I do!" I e-mailed the company, and said "I think I may be just the person you're looking for." 2 hours later, he called to ask me to come in for an interview, and 4 days later, I was offered the job.

As much as I wanted out of the over-structured, under-communicated, Chicago-centric world I'd been in, it was a tough thing to agree to break out of my comfort zone and move on. But I did. And I'm glad I did.

I'm no longer dealing with the travel industry, which is certainly what I'll miss most about my old job (I was there for 6½ years -- yikes!!). Instead, the ads I am responsible for serving will be concerned with getting butts into seats of the newest Jet Li film, or selling more video games to 20-year olds who've already mastered the one that came out last week. But it's still ads, and it's back to the Ad serving system that I know and love. How much of a geek am I?!? :)

The environment couldn't be more different. There are no cubicles in sight. I'm in a warehouse, where the chief marketing guy has his office in a short schoolbus that's parked in here. There are flourescent lights hung, but they're never on. I have a lamp on my desk that I bought (resisting the urge to buy the purple furry lamp), because the only lights in my part of the warehouse are covered with blue or green gels. The half-wall next to me allows me to peek over and watch the CJs (Cyber-Jockeys) while they're broadcasting, live. I hear "And five....four...three..." several times an hour, and if I look over, I see the "two...one" being signaled by the producer. It always makes me think of "Wayne's World."

Everyone here sortof wanders in somewhere between 9 and 10 in the morning, and whether I leave at 5 or 7, I'm never the last one out. I can wear my FCUK shirt and not only be tolerated, but fit in.

I'm close to the oldest one here, but I love it. I have a blank slate as far as process and structure, so my knowledge and experience are actually useful.

My commute is considerably longer (I went from a 7-minute commute with traffic to a 22-minute commute with no traffic), but I get to listen to more of the morning show, or learn some more Dutch or French with a CD.

It's the same salary, no 401(k), but I get stock options and the potential for an increase if I do well, and definitely better schwag.

What a change. I love it.

Speak for me

2006-08-28T11:15:00.000-06:00

So, I've had a cold for about the past week. Which is SO unlike me. Normally, I get an inkling of something coming on, and tell it that I'm terribly sorry, I don't have time to be sick right now, you'll have to come back later.

Which usually works (and it's usually true, that I don't have time to be sick).

But this time, there were no looming holidays, or projects, or performances, or anything else, so I let it come. And boy, did it. I'm feeling mostly human now, but you wouldn't know it by my voice. Saturday, it was about 2 octaves lower than normal (and I don't have the girliest of voices to begin with, not since the Rail Europe retiling incident that changed my voice and my brain, and I just didn't have the money to go to the doctor, or I'd have long since received a hefty chunk from OSHA, I'm sure. But I digress......).

Sunday, I got about 2 words out first thing in the morning, and then it was done. ME, with no voice. Can you imagine the torture?!? And I was sure it would be better today, but no dice. So instead, I'll let some random quotes speak for me. This comes from my friend Psycho Kitty's blog, and it seemed interesting. Here ya go.

------------------------------------------------
Vacation used to be a luxury, however, in today's world, it has become a necessity.
Unknown

Refuse to be ill. Never tell people you are ill; never own it to yourself. Illness is one of those things which a man should resist on principle.
Edward Bulwer-Lytton (1803 - 1873)

We have just enough religion to make us hate, but not enough to make us love, one another.
Jonathan Swift (1667 - 1745)

If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer. Let him step to the music which he hears, however measured or far away.
Henry David Thoreau (1817 - 1862), Walden, Conclusion, 1854

If the only prayer you ever say in your whole life is "thank you," that would suffice.
Meister Eckhart

Wanna go for a walk?!?

2006-08-15T09:29:00.000-06:00

So, if you're a dog, those words should have you wagging your tail furiously and looking at the door, at the leash, door, leash, door, leash, door, leash.

If you're a human, it means I'm asking for one of 2 things:

1) Join us at the Wag 'N Trail fundraiser for the Denver Dumb Friends League, Saturday September 16. It's at the park at Surrey Ridge (between Highlands Ranch and Castle Rock, on I-25). Walk with the dogs, have a burger, enjoy a nice late summer day outside. Free to register!

and/or

2) Sponsor Sya and me as we participate, to add funds to the Dumb Friends League's coffers, as they do marvelous work in the community, saving stray anmals, spaying & neutering pets, offering pets for adoption, and educating the community about the need for these services.

My goal is to raise $200, which is enough to keep 4 dogs fed and safe in the shelter for 10 days -- hopefully enough time for them to either be reunited with their owners, or be adopted out to new families.

Thanks for your support!!!

Pam (and Sya) (and Oreo, because these things mean that the dog is out of the house for a while, and too tired to bother him when we return)

"Your opinion is needed for a new survey"

2006-08-12T00:11:00.000-06:00

No, really.

We (the CBB and I have created a quick little survey about camping. Just out of curiosity, mind you. We're thinking of going camping with Patrick and Princess Katy, and were wondering to ourselves if our styles would be compatible.

I think they will be, but just for grins, take this little survey and let us know how you feel about camping.

But HURRY!! The survey is only valid through August 17, so pretty please make your opinion known before then.

We'll let you know the outcome on one of our blogs.......

One less place to travel.

2006-08-03T10:13:00.000-06:00

Well, I don't post for ages, and then I go on a little tear.....

WARNING: Animal lovers may be upset by the links that follow.

So, I've never been someone who's jsut dying to travel to Asia, but now I can confidently remove China from the bottom of my List Of Places To Visit.

It seems that a particular county in China has a rabies problem, and has decided to kill the dogs in an effort to help stop it. I don't agree, but okay, if you feel that's your solution, so be it.

The trouble is, when the owners of the dogs didn't take care of the euthanasia on their own, the county enforced this policy in a hideous, inhumane, wickedly brutal way (for both dog and owner).

Rabies = bad. I get it. But bludgeoning someone's pet in front of their eyes is also bad. And having no laws governing cruelty to pets is bad, too.

Sorry, China, I'll be taking my tourism dollars somewhere else. And leaving my pets inthe care of someone I can count on to treat them with the love and respect they deserve.

Flashback...

2006-08-02T09:31:00.000-06:00

So, I think that was probably the closest I've come to bad teenage poetry in about 25 years. Sorry about that. I'm on my way back up now.

It still sucks to have lost our drum corps (that's essentially what it boils down to), it still sucks to have lost a fantastic pipe major, but the pipers seem chipper enough, so we'll see if any drummers stick around.

Sometimes I just need a little time to indulge myself in a mood, ya know? It's rarely pleasant, but it rarely lasts, so....

That other Fame post will be coming soon enough, I promise.

Shit. Shitshitshit.

2006-08-01T15:20:00.000-06:00

I have to write something, or I just keep it inside, This isn't going to make any sense or lead anywhere so feel free to move right on to the joke of the day or the next blog or whatever. And forgiv ethe typing, I'm a little teary right now, so I can't see the keyboard so well.

My pipe band, which I love and adore and put a lot of effort and time and money into , is dying.

Not confirmed dead, maybe not even in I.C.U., but it's certainly not looking promising.

I'm a shitty drummer, both in technique and in how mjuch I practice, but I enjoy it. I like doing the twirly-twirly thing and being the decoration for people to watch while they listen to the pipes and snares. I like helping little kids figure out how to twirl the mallets, when they ask after a performance "How do you do that?". I like inviting people to rehearsal, or talking to them about how a mini-band could be hired to plauy at their wedding reception or school function or whatever. I like traveling with the band. I like getting up too early for a road trip, I sortof like being too fucking hot in a wool kilt and black shoes on a 103° field.

I like being part of one of the best bands inthe state. I like kicking ass and taking names. I like the laughter than drew me into this corps in the first place.

So what's the problem?

I hate that my 2 leaders are taking a leave of absence, no-we-don't-know-for-how-long. I hate that I know I can't pressure them into returning, because that sortof is the reason they're leaving in the first place. I hate that the rest of us can't put together nearly as winning a drum corps without them. I hate that I can't fucking write (or read, sometimes) the sheet music for the tenor drum, let alone the snare. I hate that I couldn't be Condo-fucking-leeza Rice and negotiate a nice tidy peace settlement. Okay, she can't do that, either. What chance would I have? I hate that I've carved out al these weekends for competitions and declined other plans and now we may not even be going. I hate that this is precisely the feeling that our 2 leaders are probably feeling so why the fuck should my piddly-ass opinion matter. I hate that I don't have a fucking solution to this, and that I'm sitting here at work typing this out because talking about it isn't going to do any good, no matter who I talk to or what I say. I hate thatthe one person from the band who will probably read this is probably also on hisway out because of all this, because he's one of my favorite people.

Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.

P.S. I also hate that I'm such a hideous typist.
P.P. S. I also really hate that I'm feeling this rotten, because really, I've been a generally happy person lately, aside from work, and this really is a setback.
P.P.P.S. The relatively tolerable Pam will return shortly; this is a temporary setback in my mood.

"...I wanna live forever..."

2006-07-31T16:29:00.000-06:00

FAME!

Friend Nichelle has a blog posting about brushes with fame, and asks for her reader's stories. I happen to have 2 of them, and lucky you, I'll share them.

Chapter One, In Which A Newbie Proves Us Wrong
Sometime after my senior year in high school, my friends Cheryl, Todd & I learned that "Me and My Girl" was coming to town, starring that Rocky Horror tranny, Tim Curry. There was no question, we HAD to spend some of our Taco Bell earnings to go see him! And we took along -- for reasons that have long since escaped my memory -- one of our co-workers, a younger kid whose name also escapes me. We'll call him Ed, since that's easy to type.

Ed had never seen any stage show aside from the ones that the school put on, so we edumacated him on how one really should dress up and act for these things, and we headed down to Denver for The Show. Our balcony seats afforded us a nice view of the whole stage (and the whole audience, as I recall), and the rented binoculars gave us a glimpse as to what Mr. Curry probably looked like in his costume.

After the show, Ed suggested we go meet Mr. Curry backstage. With a patronizing laugh that would indicate we'd been to such performances just dozens of times, we explained that sweetie darling, stars like Mr. Curry don't just simply hang around the stage door waiting for the likes of us. He persisted, and we agreed to indulge his childish fantasy for a few minutes (It was at least fall, since it was more than a bit nippy outside).

We made our way to the stage door to linger with the few other people who had the same idea and very shortly, someone popped his head out of the door and said he was very sorry, but Mr. Curry was in post-show meetings and wouldn't be out for hours, so just run along now, please. We gave Ed the obligatory "See, we told you so" comment, and stood there a moment, debating where we could go grab a cup of cocoa or something. Just then, the door opened again, and there was Tim Curry, still in costume and makeup. "But, but, but....." one of us stammered. To which he elegantly replied (in his lovely English accent) "Well, I couldn't have you just standing out here freezing, could I?" No, now you mention it, you couldn't. Huh.

So, we had him autograph our programs, and stood there dumbstruck. Except for me. I asked him "Do you regret doing 'Rocky Horror'?",which I immediately regretted asking. He looked at me and said "If you never take any risks, you don't have any fun, do you?" Wise words, which I try to keep in mind every so often.

Keep a watch here for Chapter Two: In Which Garth Brooks Astounds Us With His Niceness

Well, it's new to ME

2006-07-20T16:13:00.000-06:00

So, a month or so after the little old lady knocked my glasse sinto the back seat and my life into a bit of a state of disarray. I have a new car.

Not new, per se, but new to me.

A 1993 Subaru Legacy LS. Silver. A little under 150,000 miles. AWD. Sunroof (doesn't always work, but it's there).

Once I finally got the check from the other insurance company, I could do some serious looking. Not much sense in looking, if you can't buy.

I looked and looked and looked, and researched and thought and watched other cars on the road, and decided that a Subaru station wagon *slight shudder* would probably be a pretty logical choice. After all, I have not only my dog, but occasionally a guest dog to tote around, and there have been more than a few occasions where I wished I could get the bass drum into my car. So, it's not a sportscar, it's not a Mini (sigh) , but hey, at least it's not a minivan.

And the CBB was good enough to go with me all the way to Fort Collins (about 2 hours away, for those who might not know), test-drive, cogitate, think, cogitate some more, look at other cars, and finally help me drive the "new" car and the rental home. Boy, if I wasn't consciously aware of it recently, this reminded me what a lucky princess I am. We were all set to go camping that weekend, and instead, he schlepped around Ft. Fun with me, used-car shopping. That must be love.

So, yes, I still have the "TINYCAR" plates, already installed on the Suby. I'm already thinking toward how I might be able to fit in a car payment by the time the smart cars come out in a year-and-a-half. This still isn't a tiny car. But at least it's one that I chose.

And at least it's not a minivan.

WHAM!

2006-06-20T23:10:00.000-06:00

(No, former A.C.T.S. members, this one really wasn't my fault.)

So, I had this whole rant worked up -- a fairly snarly one -- and it all vanished in a wisp of empathy this afternoon.

This morning, I was on my way to work on an Essential Monday. The Actual Monday was part of a long weekend with the CBB in Telluride (and the quaint suburb of Rico), visiting my Best Friend Sara, and taking in the Barenaked Ladies latest Colorado appearance, at the Telluride Bluegrass Festival.

So anyway.

It's Essential Monday, I've just (reluctantly) left the CBB at my place, snoozing away. I came to a stop behind 8 or 10 cars who were also stopped for the stoplight ahead. Was thinking about the day to come, and debating if I wanted to have office coffee or water with my granola-bars-masquerading-as-breakfast, when

WHAM!!!!!!

I got rear-ended.

The world was all blurry and whirling for a moment, and then I took a moment trying to figure out what had just happened. Crap. Somebody just fucking rear-ended me! Shit! Wait a minute....I can't see anything.

Where are my glasses? Where the fuck are my fucking glasses? Oh crap oh crap oh crap what just happened and where are my glasses? I had hung my clear pair in the cell phone holder when I put my sunglasses on, where are they? Crap. Okay, the car in front of me is moving; put on the hazards so people know I'm not moving. Where the fuck are my glasses?!?

Now here's where it takes a twist. As I'm giving one last look for my glasses (incidentally, my vision is roughly 20/5,130 without them), I see the car that hit me pull out from behind me. I can tell it's a silver small SUV of some sort, but nothing more. I'm giving them some sort of motion with my hands that was supposed to mean "I can't find my glasses because you hit me so FUCKING hard, please don't go anywhere, no don't you DARE run away". And they pull away.

Hit. And. Run.

So, I use my worthless eyes to make sure no other car-shaped blobs were in the right lane and pulled into the nearest parking lot -- my optician's building, as irony would have it. Called the cops, and explained that someone just fucking hit-and-ran me. While waiting for the officer on the scene, I looked more for my glasses. The ones that were in the cell phone holder were on the floor of the passenger's side. The ones that had been on my face were now in the back seat.

The tiniest little police lady showed up a bit later to take care of the details. Very nice tiny police lady. Very understanding, with a sense of humor -- something that helps a never-been-in-an-accident-like-this, nerves-shot-to-hell person like me deal just a little better with the situation.

A guy who was on his way to work in the other direction stopped to offer his assistance/eyewitness account (a volunteer firefighter, so he asked about 3 times if my neck and back felt okay, and pointed out that my airbag could be in a less stable state, so be careful). And another lady who was behind me saw this driver take off and tried to follow, and was able to get a partial license plate.

So now I'm late for work, my mood is wrecked (not to mention the trunk of the car), and suddenly I'm stuck paying for all this. Thank God I have a pretty reasonable deductible, and rental car coverage, so at least my cost for paying for a rental isn't too bad, comparatively. Mind you, it's still more than I had planned on shelling out for this type of thing. And with recent other events, my huh-that's-not-an-expense-I'd-planned-on fund is beyond tapped.

So I had this whole rant worked up, and was going to blog that when I got home (with a MUCH-appreciated ride from Princess Katy), but then a phone call from Tiny Police Lady changed it all.

She managed to try the right combination of elements from the various license plate/vehicle descriptions we got, and found the driver.

An 80-year-old lady named Mary.

Now, how do you direct a snarly rant towards an 80-year-old lady? Especially when my family has had the unpleasant task of dealing with a driver who's just gotten too old to drive safely? My own late Grandad had his last stint on the road when he changed lanes into a lane that was still being used. I've had my license for 22 years now, and can't imagine losing that independence now, let alone when I've been self-mobile for several decades.

So I'll bet Mary's family has some words with her as to whether she's really still equipped to be driving herself. I hope they do, anyway. I was wearing my seatbelt, had my foot on my brake, and was a safe distance from the car in front of me. What if I hadn't? What if I'd had my dog in the car, with her nose sticking out the window? What if the car she hit had a tiny teething person in a car seat but gnawing on a rattle? What if......?

So, I'm hoping that she'll take this 2nd opportunity to do the right thing, and take ownership of the mistake, so that her insurance pays for things, and I can be relieved of the deductible and the rental car cost. Does this still affect my premium? Dunno. It'd better not, though I know statistically, the insurance company has to consider whether I've been involved, not necessarily whether I'm at fault.

All I can say is, Mary is DAMN lucky the drum is unharmed. Heaven help her if the Drum Sergeant had to get involved.

Stop the world!

2006-06-15T17:07:00.000-06:00

If you felt a big jolt last night, don't worry. It was just the earth screeching to a halt on its axis.

Why?

I bought a skirt.

Not because I had to (you know, like for a wedding or special church service), but because I wanted to.

It's cute, and airy, and summery.

For those who don't know me better, this is an occurance that hasn't happened since about 1987, when I bought a really cute mustard yellow skirt mostly because it said it was a size 5, and I was not, but it fit anyway. I wore that skirt with a sleeveless mock turtleneck leotard that made my chest look bigger than it was (I had the non-flabby arms of a 19-year old then......ah, those were the days), and black ballerina flats, imagining myself very artsy as I floated from the dance building to the theatre building to the dorm, before coming back to the theatre building for rehearsal of whatever play I was in that week.

You see, the trouble with my figure is that it's a little short. Not short enough to qualify as "petite" in the eyes of most clothing manufacturers, but short enough to look really stubby when wearing what would be mid-calf on normal women. No capri pants for me. And, as I've been given hips designed for child bearing (regardless of the fact that I'm not certain I'll use them for that purpose), things like mini skirts are right out, as well.

Add in to this the fact that my ancestors didn't know what the sun was, so my alabaster skin (okay, mottled alabaster....stupid freckles) hasn't lent itself to being displayed in public until very recently. Thank goodness for society coming to the realization that deep tans = leather skin later in life. So, after getting ridiculed by a complete stranger for my white legs sometime in college, I have put away shorts and skirts for the most part.

But now, I have a skirt. A cute one. One that can be worn with a simple white t-shirt (hooray!). And one that can be worn with the cute espadrille scuffs I bought the other day (which is another fashion stretch for me, but that's another Mini Mumbling).

I have a skirt.

And I plan to wear it.

In public.

Hold on to something, the earth is fixin' to stop spinning again.

Passionate about getting out of here.... (Vent-i grande, please)

2006-06-15T16:54:00.000-06:00

******RANT ALERT******

Pardon me while I vent.

I got a request from a coworker in another state to get a screen capture of something that was only available to people living in Colorado. Since my work machine IP doesn't show me as being in Colorado (though I am, really I am), this meant that I needed to get the screen capture from home. Sure, no problem, I log on at home occasionally.

I did so the other night, did a WHOLE lotta searching around to get the stupid thing to show, got a screen capture and sent it off to her. Since I didn't have my work machine, I sent it from my home e-mail. Then, it was off to bed for me.

As some of you may know, my Yahoo e-mail has an auto-signature that promotes my other business, Passion Parties. Nothing too risque, I don't think. It mentions "passion" and "toys", but doesn't go into detail or anything.

2 days later, I come back from lunch to an e-mail from my boss, with HR cc'd, berating me for "Honestly, what were you thinking?" (that's a quote). Apparently, said coworker took offense to not only the tag line, but the website that you land on when you click on the link. If she was offended at the idea of "passion" or "toys", why on earth did she click to the page where it goes into more detail?? And, as I'm on eggshells right now anyway, this put me over the edge, emotionally. Officially, the call with HR was just to remind me that some things are inappropriate at work.

But wasn't it just as inappropriate for her to open my site, call others to her desk to gawk, then go to my boss, without so much as letting me know that her values were somehow compromised my my effort to make a little more income?
Ugh.

If I thought I could make the mortgage payment by working at Taco Bell or Barnes & Noble, I'd be filling out that generic application form right now. I just can't respect this team as much as I need to, to keep my values and emotions intact.

We now return you to your regularly scheduled Mini Mumblings. Please allow a bit of time for the sense of humour and wit to return. Thank you for your patience.

smart Girl

2006-06-05T18:34:00.000-06:00

Last week, the CBB and I went to his hometown of Edmonton, AB, to visit family (and torture them with my lack of left-hand bling), and just relax/hang out. Pretty nice way to spend a week not working, I'd say.

His brother, Jerome was kind enough to schlep us around to various and sundry functions, but -- as happens to the best of us -- he had to go back to work during our last few days there. Oh, I'll bet the Edmonton public transit system would've been just fine, but I jumped at the possibility of driving one of my dream cars.

Called the rental place, confirmed the availability of a single smart car (that's the brand, not just a description), and they sent over their finest (okay, only) shuttle driver to fetch us back to the rental counter.

As we pulled into the lot, I spied the teeny car waiting there for me.

It's lime green! {squeal of joy}

It's a cabriolet!!!!!
{louder squeal of joy, accompanied by a little happy chair dancing}

Yes, friends, I not only got to drive a smart, but got to drive one that was very nearly exactly as I would order it, if a windfall the size of a car payment dropped itself into my lap.

Oh, it's cute, alright. And fun to drive, as well. This was one of the sportier models, and had tiptronic shifting, with the option of using the wheel-mounted paddles to not have to move your hands from 10 and 2.

Ya know, it doesn't feel nearly as small inside as it looks from the outside. We even managed to get all our luggage and shopping inside, to get ourselves to the airport. Okay, it took the type of spatial arranging skills that led me to conquer Tetris, but we did it!

So, now I have more reasons to love these little guys. Cute, fuel-efficient, and FUN! And yes, they're safe. And yes, they can go highway speeds. Sheesh. These things are all over the place in Europe, where they are also known to care about safety and speed.

But with my limit of 2 carry-ons already in-hand, I had to give up the keys to the smart to the nice lady at the Budget counter. If I got creative, though, I might be able to fit it in the overhead bin.....

"Thou shalt worship no false idols..."

2006-05-17T15:22:00.000-06:00

Oh, for the love of Pete!

Am I the only person on this continent who doesn't give a rat's ass about who is left on American Idol?

It's bad enough that I hear about it on the entertainment shows (ET, Insider, etc), and the late-night talk shows. And every morning radio show seems to have some schmuck who is an A.I. "expert" that does me the favor of giving a 4-minute wrap-up of last night's show, as well as their well-informed opinion of who should win vs. who will win. And of course, the DJs have to chime in, too.

But for this to be the 2nd story on the Today show?!? Seriously! Are there really no more globally important things to discuss than how tragic it was that Chris got sent packing? Genocide in Darfur, perhaps? Yanno, the UK Prime Minister's on the verge of leaving office. Hey, I hear that some mountain in the South Pacific......

Surely, reporting on these types of topics -- however skimmingly -- would do more to better my outlook on the world than knowing that Katie Couric's daughter was crushed by America's decision on who should replace Kelly Clarkson to fill the radio waves, at least 4 times per hour.

Are we almost done? I can't help but be aware of the fact that we're down to 3 people. Thank God. I can't tell you how much I'm looking forward to hearing more substantial news.

And so help me, if Britney Spears' latest baby gaffe is the 2nd story on Today, I may put a heavy book through the screen.

Wake up, wake up!

2006-04-20T22:58:00.000-06:00

Proven ways to wake up in the morning:

Coffee.

Red Bull.

Mountain Dew.

Spider in the shower.

One morning last week, groggy from staying up too late to watch the Late Late Show with Craig Ferguson, I stumble into the shower as usual. Start the water, throw the towel over the shower rod (I have this thing about having water on my face and not being able to dry it off), hop in, wet the hair.....

What's that? Something dark at the top of the wall in front of me. I don't have my contacts in or my glasses on, so I can't quite tell. I squint, and decide it's a moth. I go to reach for the shampoo bottle and it drops down on an invisible string. Moths don't spin webs, so logically, it's not a moth.

GAAACK! There's a spider in my shower!!!! One big enough for my Mr. Magoo eyes to see on their own. And thus starts the heart racing, the trying-not-to-hyperventilate breathing. The muffled screaming (as if a spider will hear me scream and decide he'd better leave because he's scaring me? Shyeah.).

He hangs out, on a line about 15 inches long -- which puts him just above eye level. I ponder the options.

I could grab a shampoo bottle and smush him. Eeew. Then -- presuming I have decent aim and he doesn't scurry -- I have spider guts on my wall, as well as on the bottle. Eeew.

I could splash some water on him and try to wash him down the drain. But -- presuming I have decent aim and he doesn't scurry -- I may have a spider with a good grip at any point in the tub, near my feet (which might look like good climbing walls from that vantage point). And, given the amount of hair of mine that's accumulated on the drain, he might not actually go down. Eeew. Besides, how would I get that much water on him? Well, there's that drain lever cover.

Aha!

The drain lever cover. A marvelous little invention that covers the overflow drain so that you can get another 2 or 3 inches of water in the tub -- which is a HUGE difference. Anyway -- it has suction cups to keep it on the wall, is clear so I can keep an eye on my shower buddy, and aside from the hole on one side (so that you don't really overfill the tub), seems like a perfect Temporary Shower Spider Container.

I retrieve the cover from the opposite corner, keeping an eye on the blur that I know to be the spider for as long as I can. A little water on the tiny suction cups to make sure they stick, a careful aim, aaaand.....WHAM! I've contained me a spider.

He tried to climb the rounded walls, but slid down a few times. It kept him occupied long enough for me to finish my shower, which was all I could ask. I snuck past him when I was done, and went on with my day.

That night, I went to see if -- as I was expecting -- the nimble bugger had escaped and scurried off to some other hiding place in my house. Instead, I found him nestled in the bottom curve of the cover.

Tap.

Nothing.

Tap tap.

Nothing.

Must be dead. I feel kinda bad for him. Regardless, I need to remove him from my shower, ya know. I pull the cover off the wall, and then I could have sworn he raised his weary little head from the slump of despair that he'd fallen into.

GAAACK! Still alive. Slight increase in heart rate again.

But I think -- with a nod to Miracle Max -- he's mostly dead. Still, let's get him outside. He was too exhausted from his little vertical climbing expedition to put up much of a fight, though he did muster the energy to start crawling around the disc, exploring what he was only able to look at all day. I rotated the plastic thingy to keep him on the opposite side, and finally got him outside, where I dropped him off in a lovely woodpile -- just the sort of place a spider might like.

I'm guessing he didn't appreciate all I did for him. But I sure do appreciate my cup of coffee a little more now.

Mushy Mumbling.

2006-03-29T23:48:00.000-07:00

So, I got back tonight from a very funny comic hypnosis show, to which the Cute Blonde Boy did not accompany me. And that's quite alright. I was talking with a couple of the girls before the show, and someone asked if he would be joining me. I was able to say "No, he wasn't interested", without feeling wierd about it. Mind you, this is a new thing for me.

And blame it on the solar eclipse or some planet being in retrograde, but I'm feeling a bit mushy tonight. Normally I'd apologize for that, but I don't think I will. So here you go...

Top 9 Things I Dig About the CBB (many of which are amplified by my previous lack of experience with)

He calls me nicknames (no, I'm not listing them here)
He's willing to say when he doesn't want to do something (and as such, I don't have to worry if he's really interested, when we do go)
He likes to take walks. And hike. And camp. Hooray!!
He likes his family, and enjoys spending time with them
He likes my family, and doesn't seem to mind spending time with them.
He's a bit of a geek. And he calls me a Girl Geek, which I never thought would be a compliment, but.....it is. Especially from a geek.
He calls me on my shit. Which I need, more often than I'm really ready to admit.
He snuggles. Which makes all Cosmo readers jealous, and Maxim readers shake their heads. I laugh at them. HA!
He digs me. And all my little quirks.

And if this were to be a Top 10 (which it isn't, because I'm not David Letterman), I'd probably list this Thing-That-Wouldn't-Necessarily-Be-A-Dealbreaker-But-I'm-SO-Glad-I-Don't-Have-To-Worry-About-It thing:

My friends and family like him. And tell me so. Frequently.

Alright, sap session over. I'll be back later with something witty, if I can break away from the jobs long enough to blog it.

Beagles and Goldens and Mutts, oh my!

2006-03-23T11:18:00.000-07:00

I had this all written up here, but then thought, "This is something the parents could read."

So I've posted another Mumbling, and invite you to take a peek.

And maybe register to walk with us? Huh? Huh? Huh?

What a slacker.

2006-03-21T17:20:00.000-07:00

I just took a little look-see, to see how much of a slacker I've been, and Wow.

I just haven't had that many creative thoughts running through my head, begging to be blogged. That, and I've been keeping myself occupied by spending time with the CBB and The Girls (his dog and mine, who are a handful when left to their own devices), working, drumming and Passion Partying.

Just thought I'd let you know that I'm still here, and I promise I'll get back to being witty again someday.

Well, if I ever was in the first place, that is.

Oh, the emotions...

2006-02-22T11:24:00.000-07:00

So, Friend Nichelle just became the very happy new mommy to Brody, an adorable Golden Retriever whose owner had moved into a small apartment, and recognized that the dog was unhappy.

I'm ever-so-happy for F.N., since I know she's been longing for a golden since her beloved Ben had to be relieved of his misery. And I think it'll be good for OzDog to have a 4-legged friend to talk to, since I'll bet The Boy and The Girl (6 years and almost 2 months, respectively) don't quite understand all his nuances.

But at the same time, I'm quite literally shedding tears (even as I try to type) for this woman -- whose name I don't even know -- because I know the agony she's going through right now. I've been through the process of giving up a dog to a better family, twice now. And it doesn't make it any easier even when you know what a fantastic family the dog's getting. I know that when she met Nichelle, she knew right away that BrodyTheDog would be loved, pampered, played with and cared for. And I know that she knows she's doing the right thing for Brody.

But I also know that she probably got into the car, drove about a block and a half, and pulled over to sob. She's telling herself that Brody will be happier (which it sounds like he will be), and that the pain and the guilt will subside (which they will -- but they'll never go away completely). She'll get home to her apartment and find some fur in the carpet, and the sobbing will start all over again.

Friend Nichelle will be blogging about this, both for her normal reasons, and for Brody's recent owner. I can't wait to hear how OzDog, The Bohunk, The Boy and The Girl get along with Brody, and what antics he pulls. The first picture I saw tells me that he'll be a happy addition to their family.

Oh, the emotions this pulls up.....I'll focus on those that surface when I see a golden retriever running and smiling, just cause he can. :)

Sick of it.

2006-02-06T16:19:00.000-07:00

So, I'm taking a sick day today.

I was sortof planning to take one tomorrow anyway, just because I haven't in so very long (the last sick day I had was last year, for an interview, and before that, it was in 2001 when I broke my spleen.

So this morning, when I woke up an hour after I'd apparently turned off my alarm, I had an inkling that my body was trying to tell me something.

I went in to work as usual, had a cuppa joe and my oatmeal, and set off to going through e-mails. And my stomach set off to distract me as much as possible.

Not actually painful, I didn't feel like I needed to run to a toilet immediately, but I just didn't feel right. And I wasn't really concentrating fully on work. So a phone message was left for the boss, an e-mail was sent to the co-workers, and home I went.

I fully expected to feel better soon and be sneaking off to do an errand or two. But my stomach (perhaps this is karma for thinking about using a sick day illegitimately?) had other ideas.

The thing is, I've spent most of this day actually working after all (oh, the wonders of laptops). So, do I count it as a sick day or not? Probably will.

And now I don't feel quite so bad about the sick day I'm still planning to take tomorrow.

Simply Beautiful.

2006-01-13T08:36:00.000-07:00

Nothing funny or deep here. I just have to say -- out loud -- how ridiculously lucky I am to live here.

Today's another one of those days when the mid-morning sky is the color of a Tiffany's box, and the white snow that covers the tallest of the mountain peaks contrasts against that blue in a way that just makes me stop in my tracks.

Literally.

As I walk into my office (which I'm moving out of, next week), I get a glimpse of the mountains as I cross from the parking garaage to the sidewalk, then I can't wait until I get into the atrium, where I can take in the view until I have to turn in to the elevator lobby. I've been known to stop and look for just a few moments more, before I have to settle into my desk (which, on days like these, has a view of Pikes Peak to the south, but it's really not the same).

It's mornings like these where I'm lucky I don't rear-end someone on the way in to work, because (as most of my short drive is east-bound), I'm pretty much gazing at the Front Range in my rear-view mirror all the way in.

Unlike some Colorado residents, I'm not envisioning skiiing down those peaks, or conquering them with a climb. I'm just staring, because they're gorgeous.

I have my camera, and if I thought a picture could really do it justice, I'd post one, but it can't, so I won't.

Those of you who live here as well, already understand, I'm sure. But if I live here for the next 75 years, I'll never get tired of that view.

It's simply beautiful.

IQ -Guilty as charged

2006-01-06T16:45:00.000-07:00

It's been a little while since I sought insight into the depths of your souls, dear readers. So here I am, once again, to ask deep, probing thoughts inspired by deep, meaningful events.

Well.....

So, the Cute Blonde Boy and I were playing pub trivia last night, and this question came up:
"What are the first names of the 3 brothers in the pop group Hansen?"

I'm mortified to say that we both knew the answer.

I should clarify, for anyone who doesn't know: It's been a while since either of us were of the "pop group fan" age.

And yet, I don't mind hearing "Mmm-Bop" once in a while. As long as I'm coming clean, I'll admit that I really quite like several of Kelly Clarkson's songs. And ya know what? I've been known to sing along to a Britney Spears song in the car on occasion.

And that's all just the recent dirt.

If I dig back, there are plenty of other tunes that have darkened my MP3/CD player/cassette deck/turntable. I don't know that I need to expose my soul quite that much right now (I have to maintain some level of respectability, yanno), but I invite you to dish the dirt on yourself:

What guilty pleasure song(s) have you secretly enjoyed hearing, but not let on to anyone up until now?

Come on -- 'fess up.....

10 Things A Man Should Know About Women And Sex

2006-01-04T17:04:00.000-07:00

Well, it's Dejo, your guest poster, here! I received a solicitation in the mail for a year's subscription to Esquire magazine at a very cheap price (of $5.99). Included with the offer was a list of "10 Things A Man Should Know About Women And Sex". I liked the list so I thought I'd share.

1. No matter how furtive or quick the glance, a woman always knows when you're looking at her breasts.

2. A good woman is as excited about a gift that costs nothing as she is about a gift that costs a lot. (The perfect, quirky gift that shows that you've been listening is worth twice the value of anything you'd find at Tiffany's.)

3. Never ask a woman why she's mad at you -- she will only get madder for your not knowing.

4. An unsolicited kiss is to a woman what free play-off tickets are to a man. Even better, flowers on days that aren't Valentine's Day, anniversaries, or birthdays.

5. Sometimes women want it when you don't, and for you not to give in on such occasions sets a terrible precedent.

6. If you're buying her a sex toy, do not presume she wants the biggest one -- most likely she does not.

7. How to locate the G-spot: Aim for it, and then ask her if your aim is true. (That said, if you ask every step of the way, you'll begin to remind her of her gynecologist.)

8. The woman-on-top position allows her more control over her destiny -- and allows many men more control over their duration. (However, that does not excuse watching television while she does all the work.)

9. It is crucially important that you do not have sex the same way every time. (Put another way: Having sex the same way every time makes people want to have sex with different people just to vary things.)

10. Love does not mean never having to say you're sorry. It means having to say you're sorry over and over again, in new and different ways, every day, every week, every month, even when you don't want to, every year, until God grants you his mercy and you finally, blissfully, die.

P.S.: "Ménage à trois" is French for "in your dreams."

P.P.S.: "Nobody actually eats the edible panties.

So, there's the list. Feel free to dicuss amongst yourselves. Better yet, mumble your thoughts back!

And now some jokes...

Joke #1:

A chicken and an egg are laying in bed. The chicken is smoking a cigarette with a very satisfying smile on his face. The egg is frowning and looking frustrated. The egg says, "Guess we answered that question."

Joke #2:

One night a man rolls over in bed, giving his wife a big grin. She says, "Not tonight, honey. I have a gynecologist's appointment tomorrow. I want to stay fresh and clean." The man, feeling rejected, rolls over and tries to go to sleep. A few minutes later, he rolls over again and asks his wife, "Do you have a dentist's appointment tomorrow?"

And finally... A Limerick:

On the chest of a barmaid at Yale
Were tattooed the prices of ale.
And on her behind
For the sake of the blind,
Was the same information in Braille.

Oh, speaking of which, Happy Birthday, Louis Braille! In honor of his birthday, Google has a special homepage logo.

Not a Mumbling, per se......

2005-12-06T09:07:00.000-07:00

...but still a little something new on my other site. I'd sent it to the Cute Blonde Boy, but had failed to let you folks know about it.

You recall I went to Edmonton a few weeks ago? Well I finally got my arse in gear and put up some pictures of the trip. Have a peek.

Yes, but will it make my penis bigger?

2005-12-06T08:48:00.000-07:00

So, I don't receive much spam (until recently, when my band's e-mail address got circulated into the deepest darkest depths of cyber hell), so I'm not really up on what the hip spammers are touting these days.

But I received this one and opened it (it had no attachments, and looked as if it was from a client) -- something I normally don't do. I'm still not clear on what it is they're trying to say. See if this seems like machine translation to you:

Sir/Madam,

Your current position has been evaluated to the important groups, and upon conscientious contemplation, we are able to extend to you the next offer.

Based upon conscientious contemplation you certify to achieve a princely gain on your initial property investment.

By completing the next attached form in a timely manner we will be able to complete our assessment, and we feel firm you will acheive not only a lowered rate of interest, but also a cash return that will fulfill all your holiday needs and more!

Please go here to complete this juncture of the treaty.

With warmest regards,
Lois Kimball

Should you prefer not to take gain of this holiday offer you can go here.

I can only hope that my next interviewer regards my résumé with such conscientious contemplation.

IQ - A little ball o' stress

2005-11-30T12:03:00.000-07:00

Ya know, there are some days that things just don't go the way you'd hoped. I'm pretty fortunate, in that my job is relatively low-stress, the deadlines are usually manageable, and I don't have any co-workers right here to annoy me (which I miss some days, but days like yesterday, it was a good thing).

So I had me a bad day yesterday. I'll not go into all the details, but suffice it to say that my head was not relaxed and ready to receive the sweet affections of the CBB when I knocked on his door last night, prior to our heading out to a movie. Once I left work & reached the sanctuary of my car, I tried to find a CD to put on, to calm my nerves. Christmas music? Nope. Sappy country songs? Nope. Tried-and-true KISS album? Nuh-uh. Aha! The compilation of angry-little-songs-I-used-to-dance-to-when-I-went-out-dancing-more-often. A little Nine Inch Nails, a bit of Tones on Tail, some Ministry, and at 75 mph down I-25, the stressors will melt away.

Except the traffic had other things to say about that.

What should have been a quick, therapeutic leadfooted drive down a straight stretch of highway ended up being a maddening, stop-and-go dance past the 2 accidents a mile apart. Nothing like 10 miles an hour to help wash away the frustrations, yessirree. Even a good, throat-ruining primal scream at the stoplight didn't help. I had some small success with a quick gaze into the stars and a deeeeep breath out once I arrived at the CBB's driveway.

The CBB was ever-so-sweet and understanding about my mood (do I really deserve him?!?). We headed to the theatre, and by the time Keira Knightley had flashed her first grin at Mr. Darcy, my mood had improved remarkably. 2 hours later, I was a whole different person, and ready to tackle the next day's events.

So here's my Insightful Question to you:

What methods do you have for dealing with stress? Quick releases, long-term fixes, hide-under-the-covers escapes, etc.

Dear Santa...

2005-11-28T11:08:00.000-07:00

Well, despite the amazing weather we've had recently, it's time for me to get into the holiday swing of things. And that means taking a cue from my friend Nichelle, and creating a wish list.

For those of you that didn't have me on your gift list, don't worry -- I'm totally not asking for anything. Lord knows I have enough as it is -- including the one thing that I've secretly asked for each year, and haven't found in the aisles of Target or online at Amazon: a beau.

But for those of you who might have been thinking of exchanging gifts with me anyway, and just can't keep track of what it is that I'm interested in this year, here's a little list of ideas. It feels to me like begging, but I know how much I appreciate Nichelle's list, so here 'tis:

Dear Santa....

Harry Potter.......well-done!

2005-11-18T10:52:00.000-07:00

So, as some of you will know, I'm a Harry Potter fan. Not a fanatic, mind you, like some of the folks who shared the theatre with me last night for the opening of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, but a diehard fan, nonetheless.

I left my Gryffindor scarf and sweater at home (yes, I actually have them, along with a wand -- snicker if you will). No waiting outside this time -- walked straight into the theatre and snagged a few seats. Friends Ali, and Andrew & Karen joined me (thanks again, guys!!). I would've gone anyway, but it's nicer to have company. Actually, there were meant to be 3 others, but various and sundry circumstances kept them away. Allow me to say a huge THANK YOU to United Artists Cinemas for having a policy that allows them to refund tickets. I hadn't expected them to actually buy back the $27 in tickets that I had with me, but they did, and I'm so thankful. On to the review.

Know and Understand, O Reader, that I am no movie critic. By and large, if a movie makes me smile at least once, I consider it a grand cinematic feature. So I'll approach this from a fan's point of view, rather than a Siskel & Ebert point of view.

First off, I think they did a grand job of introducing and explaining most of the plot elements, though if you hadn't read the book(s), you'd probably be a touch lost. There were some parts of the story that were quite prominent in the book (Quidditch World Cup) that were only covered as much as needed to help the storyline along. I know JKR is involved in the filmmaking decisions, so if she says it's okay, then who am I to argue? There was a particular character (Winky) who was -- in the book -- quite intertwined with this part of the story, but they took some liberties, rearranged some timelines, and still got the major point through.

The fact that the Three Amigos are now teenagers with raging hormones is not overlooked. There were some scenes where I felt a little bit like I was being beaten over the head with this idea ("Right, Harry's discovered girls -- I get it, I get it!"), but not enough to detract from the movie. In fact, these scenes offered some great bits of humour, which helped balance out the otherwise very serious mood of the film.

Mind you, the mood should be a somber one. These are potentially life-threatening tasks that the Champions are being asked to perform, and to gloss over that would cheapen the very grave threat that a returning Voldemort poses. As the books go on, the magical world in which Harry and the others reside begins to wage a real good-vs-evil battle, complete with the social divisions that come with any war. This film sets that stage well.

There are some not-thoroughly-explained bits that a book-reading fan will inherently know about, that the average movie-goer will not, which might have been cost/time-effective to put in. For example, it's only because I've read the series that I understand why seeing the Cruciatus curse performed affects Neville so strongly. If you hadn't read the previous books or seen the previous films, the references to PolyJuice Potion might not help explain one of the major plot points.

Overall, the film is good, the mood appropriate, and the cinematography nicely handled. Patrick Doyle took over the scoring duties from John Williams, and carried Mr. Williams' themse into this score. I wish Rupert Grint would trim his hair a bit (where does it say that Ron has to look like a ragamuffin??), and there were a couple of forced emotions from Hermione. But the final showdown scene was good and dark, the magic still amazing, and I left feeling like I'd gotten my $9 worth.

Now the question is -- does my next long wait (which started at about 2:35 am this morning) end with a new book, or a new movie?

Whatchoo think?

2005-10-31T11:31:00.000-07:00

So, the Cute Blonde Boy and I went to a Hallowe'en party over the weekend, and I think our costumes looked pretty darn good (and daaammmn, was he a sexy swashbuckler in that getup! durrrrrr.....). We had a friend take a couple of pictures of us, and he caught one with this look on our faces:

I'll tell you the circumstances later, but I'm curious as to what you'd caption this.

To borrow a device from Pat, I'll offer up a small prize for the best caption. I don't know just what yet, but I'll come up with something. Probably a t-shirt from the band, and/or some other useless crap. I'll try to keep the dog fur off of it, anyway.

So, whaddya think? What caption should this photo have, should I ever get around to posting more pictures on my site?

IQ - Scawy

2005-10-28T16:44:00.000-06:00

Who's a slacker?

I AM!!!

I haven't posted anything in a couple of weeks. Whoops.

So, here we are, coming up on the Hallowe'en weekend, and I am bombarded with ads for the various and sundry haunted houses around town every time I leaf through the paper.

I don't do haunted houses. Those of you who know me, know that I don't do well with freaky-ass things. I can handle a movie with some violence (a la Lethal Weapon, Indiana Jones, etc). But a film that sets me to wondering whether perhaps a madman with a knife has gotten into my basement without my noticing, despite the fact that I'e been home all day? Or a TV show that makes my skin crawl by showing me a man being eaten alive by ants? Uh-uh. Just can't do it. The logical part of my head (it does exist, you just haven't seen it very often) gets pushed aside rather abruptly and gagged by the illogical part of my head that sees no reason why the life-sized brass rubbing of the 16th-century knight that used to hang in my parents' stairway shouldn't suddenly come to lie and chase me down. So no haunted houses for me, thanks.

The last time I was in one was when I was probably 15 or 16. Aside from the room in which there lay a coffin precisely like the one my friend had been laid to rest in some weeks earlier (oh, yeah, THAT opened the floodgates), there was another room that scared me. No, terrified me. Petrifed. Paralyzed. Beyond consolation. I realize now that the chainsaw this man was wielding probably did not have an actual chain on it, and therefore would not have severed my leg from my body with unbearable pain and torture. But when he cornered me (and the saw was running, that much I'm sure of), you could not have convinced me otherwise, without having Christ himself make an appearance.

I screamed myself hoarse, because I really did believe my life was in danger. And no amount of back-patting/hugs/reassurance from my friends (who did manage to stop giggling at me, once they realized that I was about to actually go into severe hyperventilation) would convince me that it was all just in fun. No sir, not fun at all.

So I'll let the rest of you whose brains are actually grounded in all lobes attend the haunted houses. I'll be waiting outside, noshing on caramel apples and concentrating on looking at the prettypretty moon. Or pondering your answers to today's Insightful Question:

What are you afraid of? What terrifies you? What irrational fear do you have?

As for me, the fear of being stabbed in the back as I come up the stairs from my basement is a pretty strong one (never mind that I've just been down there and know for certain that nobody else is there). And as for things that might (indeed will) eventually happen, I'm pretty frightened of the day I come home and one of my pets doesn't greet me at the door anymore.

That, and the idea that perhaps Congress will change our Constitution and allow Dubya one more term.
*shudder*

IQ - The List

2005-10-11T08:51:00.000-06:00

Do you remember the Friends episode where Ross & Rachel make up their Freebie List? The list of 5 celebrities they're allowed to sleep with, without the other one getting upset? Ross has 6 on his list, eliminates Isabella Rosselini to cut it down to 5, and then she shows up in Central Perk. Occasionally, I think about who would be on my List (makes watching "Entertainment Tonight" a little more interesting, dontcha know).

So last night, as I'm checking the online guide to see whether Leno or Letterman has more interesting guests, I find myself in a quandary. Letterman has Orlando Bloom, who is absolutely on my List. And, though his hair is a bit shaggy just now from the "Pirates of the Caribbean" shoot, I'm interested in hearing about his new film, "Elizabethtown."

Just in case, I check Leno. He's got Keira Knightley, who is my same-sex girlfriend. At some point, someone I was discussing the List with decided that the list should have 5, plus one of the same sex. And Keira's my plus one. Just adorable, isn't she? So, I switched back & forth. Watched Leno/Keira for a bit, hearing about the new "Pirates" film from her, then when they went to commercial, flipped to Dave & 'Lando. So, this leads me to today's Insightful Question:

Who's on your list? And try your best to give me a plus one. It's okay to have a man-crush (though it's perfectly okay if you don't), or to think you might consider kissing another girl (oh, all the guys' ears just perked up).

I'll start you off (and mine changes from time to time; this is today's version) :

Orlando Bloom
Will Smith
Colin Firth
Craig Ferguson
~~John Hannah~~ Brad Pitt (how did I forget him?!? Must've been pre-caffeine kick-in)
Keira Knightley

Alright, I'm waiting......(and don't worry, it's not like we're going to laminate these or anything)

IQ - World traveller.....we hope.

2005-10-05T15:44:00.000-06:00

I'm meant to head to my first-ever trip to Canada on Friday. Headed home with the CBB for Thanksgiving. Those crazy Canucks, they celebrate it in October, when it doesn't fall ridiculously close to Christmas, thus adding to the stress of the holiday season.

Speaking of stress.....

The CBB & I were talking one evening about this trip (about which I am excited, but a bit nervous -- meeting The Parents is a sortof Big Thing, in my book), and the topic of passports came up. "A person should always always always have a valid passport", says I. And I relay the story of my friends who won a radio contest, and found themselves faced with a trip to Australia in 3 weeks' time, with no passports for either of them. I also recalled learning a bit of a lesson from some former co-workers who were booked to fly to London, and realized when they got to the airport that one of them had a passport that expired1 month after their trip ended.

No problem, you say.

Tell that to the nice people working immigrations & customs in London, who might not be so keen to give you a visitor visa which allows you to stay for up to 6 months, if your passport expires in 1 month. Maybe you're trying to get in, and have no intention of leaving. How do they know?

So, CBB says, jokingly, "I'd better check mine, then!" And waddya know? His expires a week after we fly back from Canada. So, off he goes to get al the necessary paperwork to get it renewed. Boy, Cananda has a lot of paperwork, rules and restrictions. I guess government is government is government.

That was almost 2 weeks ago.

We're booked to leave in 2 days, and no CBB passport. And while it's not required to travel, it sure makes things a lot easier. But, given that he had to send in his old passport, and his birth certificate to get the renewal, my beau may or may not be headed home to mum's cooking this wekeend. Boy, I hope so - I'm dying to meet the family.

So here's my Insightful Question out of all this:

What's the most stressful travel situation you've had?

As for me, it's a toss-up between

not knowing until 4:30 the day before BessFren and I were supposed to leave whether or not our airfare to Curacao had been ticketed (it was a freebie I won through work; lots of rules & restrictions)

and

driving 100+ mph down the M40 from Oxford to London, hoping to high heaven that we made it in time for our flight (remembering along the way that we had to drop the car off. And oh, crap, gotta gas up, too). We got checked in, in time, but then got picked to be the lucky ones to have our luggage inspected with a fine-tooth comb. My companions were not very understanding about my wigging-out. It's just that I dont deal well with being Very Late. Makes me kinda crazy.

***********************

Postscript:

10/10: So, we're not in Canada after all. About noon on Friday, this Impatient Girl called the Canada Passport office to ask if, when they send out a passport, they generally let the recipient know what the tracking number is. I never did get the answer to that, but the guy I talked to asked for the CBB's date of birth and last name. I gave it to him -- hesitantly, as their site warns that calling and asking for a status could result in a delay. He pulled it up, and said, rather casually, that they hadn't started on it yet. Which made me wonder, why do they include a line on the application that asks for your departure date? they didn't even make an effort to try to get this started before CBB was scheduled to leave. Grr....

So, we're rescheduled to go in November -- thus starting the countdown all over again. But it gives me a bit more time to find something to wear that's more suitable than my many T-shirts. And figure out if the idea I had for a hostess gift is really the best I can come up with. ThinkThinkThink.....

Yeah, but no more doggy breath

2005-09-30T08:41:00.000-06:00

I cannot possibly begin to accurately describe the face that a dog makes when a Listerine breath strip starts to melt on her tongue*. But I can tell you it sent me into absolute hysterics.

Inasmuch as a dog can wrinkle up her nose, she did. Boy, did she. it was like someone had put 2 pieces of string on her upper lips, right near the front, and then pulled up. Wrinkled her whole lip right up to her nose. That was funny. But what may have sent me over the edge was The Look. She walked away a few steps, presumably to finish what she thought was going to be a treat. And she turned her head and looked at us over her shoulder, with a look that very clearly said, "That was just mean."

And you know, then she came back for more. Funny, cute, but not always bright.

Now I know how to bring about a laugh if I ever need one. AND it gives her minty-fresh breath.

*Cute Blonde Boy was getting one out for himself, and she was making a pest of herself, insistent that whatever it was, she wanted some too. So, we obliged. Didn't force it on her. Her own darn fault.

"But soft, what light through yonder window breaks?"

2005-09-28T09:42:00.000-06:00

I know, I know, it's been a while since last I posted. Frankly, I've been too busy with the CBB to think about being all clever for the blog. But today, I had a couple of vaguely related thoughts, so here they are.

First off, when I came into work this morning, not only was it gray and hazy outside (which, as you may know, I LOVE), but it was a bit gray and hazy in the office (which, oddly enough, I don't love). It seems the guys who get here before me have something against illumination.

We have these cheerful flourescent lights, and the little square frames dotting the ceiling every 10 feet or so each contain 3 bulbs. Most days, 2 of the 3 bulbs in each square are on. But this morning, I'm only allowed to have 1 bulb on, which makes it this sortof annoying half-light. And since my body responds quite noticeably to the light levels around me, I'm fighting off this urge to go curl up on a couch and drift off to napville. And yes, I could go try to figure out which magic combination of switches would turn on 2 bulbs, but knowing how much I hate it when someone else goes mucking with the lights, I'll just grin and bear it.

On the upside, I got to wake up this morning to not just an alarm, but to gradual light, as well. We haven't hit the end of Daylight Savings Time yet, but I know we will soon, and when we do, I'll be waking up in what seems like pitch black. Which is fine with me, until it's time to turn on the bathroom light. And I just hate the feeling when your pupils are contracting to pinhole-sized openings. It makes for kindof a Cranky Pam.

So I bought a progression light alarm clock from Hammacher Schlemmer, which starts a gradual light about 30 minutes before the alarm is set to go off. So when it does go off, your eyes are already somewhat adjusted to the light, and there's no stumbling across the room to find the alarm. Yes, I need to put mine across the room, or I'd just reach over and hit Snooze, and never make it to work, or the store, or reheharsal, or book club or anything. I really like my sleep.

This new clock seemed to work pretty well, though I was a little annoyed to find that hitting the Snooze meant that the light went off, too. I haven't yet toyed with the aroma warming feature that it has -- I can have that little gradating lightbulb warm up some aroma beads that release a scent somewhat like coffee, or perhaps lavender, or patchouli (ugh). Or I can add a few drops of my own essential oils to a felt disc and have that scent wake me up. We'll see.

And yet, even with all those features, I'd rather wake up to a bit of Sunshine.

When the Universe speaks.....

2005-09-20T11:04:00.000-06:00

.....I sometimes have no choice but to listen.

First, I set my alarm to wake me up at 6:30, so that I'd have plenty of time to shower, get dressed, have a bite of breakfast, and catch a cab to work. No such luck. Whether I actually turned off the alarm, or simply didn't set it right in the first place, doesn't matter -- I woke up at 8:15, looked at the clock, and thought, "Crap! I was meant to be in the office 15 minutes ago! Crap!" Threw on my clothes (thank goodness I always iron things the night before), threw everything into my bag and out the door I went. Got to the office, and the other guy's flight was delayed, so we didn't get started until 10:00 anyway. Grr....

So, all through the meeting I was sitting in yesterday, in Chicago, all I could think was "I can't wait to get home and see my CBB." When my boss looked up our flights, he saw that my 6:45 flight was cancelled. No worry. I e-mailed the agency, and they booked me on the 8:00. And, I thought to myself, I'll just go get on the standby list for any of the 3 flights before the 8:00. After waiting in far too many lines, I decided that the 8:00 would be just fine, It's get me back at about 9:30, and then I could just pop down and see the CBB (the dog was still in the kennel, so this was a rare opportunity to see him, without worrying about how long it'd been since I'd been home to let the dog out). The flight finally left about 9:10, putting me on the ground at 10:45. Heck, just a little snuggling would be really nice after this day, I'll still scoot down there.

And then I heard it.

The sound of the Universe putting the kibosh on my plans, resonated through the flapping of the tire walls that had just blown out on my rear wheel.

Coincidentally enough (yeah, right -- as if I believe that any of this wasn't Planned), it blew out right before I came up to the exit for the only gas station on the road from the airport. So I pull in, dredge everything out of my trunk (I really do have too much crap in there, I know) and change the tire, Something I knew how to do, but hadn't actually had to put into action before. And since I had Andrew's latest post scrolling through my head, it was much easier, knowing that I was a) not doing this in the freezing snow, and b) doing it all-by-myself.

Feeling like quite the Independent Woman of the World, I was somehow even more anxious to have the Cute Blonde Boy wrap his arms around me with a "Poor baby....I'm sorry your day sucked". Late, but anticipated nonetheless.

The Universe put its foot out and tripped me, by way of 2 different road construction delays/detours. Sigh.

So, I settled for having a nice long phone conversation with my beau as I got myself ready to crash into the blissful oblivion of sleep. He really does just have the nicest laugh, which is really a fabulous sound to have echoing through my head as I drift off to Dreamland. Such a sweetheart he is, too, to put up with my mumblings and bitching, even though there was nothing that he or I could have done to change any of this (well, aside from me agreeing to buy new tires last week, instead of waiting until my budget could accommodate it).

I just don't understand why the Universe felt the need to keep me from him. Unless it was to make me realize how very much I appreciate/dig/adore him.

Like I needed any help with that.

IQ - Rag mag....

2005-09-16T16:36:00.000-06:00

So, in preparing to travel to Chicago (again) this Sunday, I'm thinking what reading material to take (yes, the obvious answer would be the book club selection for next week, wouldn't it?). I have a Cosmo that I have yet to read -- plenty of excellent articles there, I 'm sure. 50 different ways to Be A Better Girlfriend would no doubt please the CBB immensely (especially as I know Cosmo's style, and they're bound to have ideas that he would approve of. ;)

But then there's the travel magazines that I have yet to read (as if I need any help in daydreaming about travel locales), and the Harry Potter book I want to re-read, and the couple of other books I've had sitting on my coffee table for months, and......

And yet, I'll take Cosmo, just because it amuses me so. And I'll probably stop by the newsstand on my way to the flight, to pick up the latest Vanity Fair, because it makes me think. And so I ask you tis Insightful Question:

What's your favourite magazine?

I wanna know. Even if it's MAD, or Maxim, or even the Weekly World News (okay, especially if it's the Weekly World News). You have all weekend, and I'm out of the office on Monday -- give me something to look forward to reading on Tuesday.

Presuming I've finished Cosmo, that is.

Winning and whinging

2005-09-14T12:31:00.000-06:00

Well, kids, the competition season is over. What's that? Well, the local pipe band competition season, of course. Silly.

My pipe band, the defending WUSPBA InterMountain Branch Champions, once again had a kick-ass weekend in Estes Park. Though you'd be hard-pressed to know that, unless you're in one of the bands. Oh, wait.....

Saturday brought gorgeous weather (although fairly windy in the morning), for which I'd like to thank CBB. ;) We competed in the Quick March Medley, which is 4 marches, all the same tempo. Not my best piece, but I managed to not screw anything up too much. And we took 1st place. Quite handily, I might add.

And since we drew 1st in the lineup, I was then free to spend the rest of the afternoon with CBB, exploring the games, and doing something I'd never done before -- watch some of the guest bands. What a marvelous afternoon that was!

Sunday was a much busier day. We competed in the Timed Medley (where you can put together any bunch of tunes you like, as long as the whole selection fits into a specific time length). This is my strongest piece personally, and I think I did fairly well. And once again, we won this one handily.

We turned right around & competed the same piece in a Grade 3 (one grade higher than we're ranked). I messed up a few flourishes in this one, but nothing major, I don't think. We took 2nd behind the only actual Grade 3 band (and our pipers were scored higher than theirs -- wa-hoo!).

The drum salute was a different story. We had no more than 10 minutes from the end of the Grade 3 Medley to warm up & go through this, before performing. We didn't really compete, as there were no other drum corps entered. But still, ya wanna put forth your best effort. And apparently my best effort was wasted in one of the run-throughs. Boy, did I fuck that up. Missed entire phrases. Flubbed flourishes. Ugh. All in all, though, was I less upset than after falling on my arse in Salt Lake? Yes, I guess so. Really wasn't happy, though.

But CBB was right there, not telling me "It's okay", "You were great", all the crap that people generally console you with. He was just there, and let me be cranky, and put his arm around me. Have I mentioned how much I love that?

Now at the last post (massed bands) on Sunday, we find out how we did. We march in, with not nearly as much structure as we should have, play the 2 tunes that the entire massed bands knows, and then patiently stand around, listening to the announcer drone on & on about this Best Clan of the Games and that Best Dog of the Games. And then, as we were expecting to hear the band competition results announced, he asked the drum majors to retire the bands. Wha'? Wait, I mean.....who.... um.......Hey!

He let several hundred pipers and drummers leave the field without knowing the results of their hard work. And BOY, were we cranky about it. Whinging & moaning about how the organizer of the games really just has something against pipe bands. Lots of ideas about how to get the point across to him that the public really enjoys having us there.

Oh, well. It really was a great weekend, all around. Great weather, fabulous company (I got the CBB for the whole weekend.....*grin*), winning stuff, beautiful scenery. And I don't get to do it again until next year.

------------------------------

P.S. My bad. Credit for us winning really must be shared with our fantastic cinematographer, a.k.a. Video Bitch. We couldn't have done it without him. Okay, technically we could've, but we wouldn't be able to improve nearly as much for next time, without his efforts. MUCH appreciated. Honestly.

Everyone, this is Stanley.....

2005-09-13T13:47:00.000-06:00

.....Stanley, this is everyone.

When I checked my mail yesterday, after neglecting it all weekend (I was in Estes Park at the Scottish Festival), I found a letter not addressed to me, but with my address on it. It wasn't addressed to the person who lived there before me, either. I know I shouldn't open other people's mail, but this was from an elementary school, and written in about a 4th-grader's hand, so I thought I'd see what it was.

It's Flat Stanley!

It seems there's a book about Flat Stanley, and how he gets squished by a falling bulletin board, but then he discovers that he can travel anywhere for just the cost of a stamp, not that he's all flat. So this class in Iowa has just finished reading Flat Stanley, and they've all colored, cut out and mailed off their own versions. I rather suspect that little Natalie Finken thinks she's sent her Flat Stanley to her Aunt or Cousin Emily, but he's landed in my hands instead.

And I'm thrilled about it!

So far, I haven't been able to take Stanley anywhere very exciting -- just out to play fetch with the dog, and to meet the OreoKitty, but I'll see if we can't find some more interesting venues to bring him to.

After a couple of weeks, I'm meant to send him back to Natalie, along with an account of his adventures. I bet I'll be sad to see him go.

IQ - "Good day, my lord. What, at your book so hard?"

2005-09-08T08:39:00.000-06:00

(that's from some guy named Will, in a play he wrote about Henry VI)

I used to be much more of a bookworm, when I was younger. Devoured the things. Nancy Drew, Roald Dahl, classics, Little House on the Prairie, cheesy Scholastic "zany facts" books, you name it. The really special days in the summertime were those when Mom would load us in the car for a trip into town to the library. Let loose to prowl the stacks, and pick out anything we wanted? Oh, joy!

I don't know when it happened, but at some point closer to adulthood, I stopped reading much at all. In fact, by the time I'd made my New Year's resolution in 2001 or 2002 to read more, I don't think I'd picked up a book in 10+ years.

I'm still not the type to go through a book a week -- there's just too much else going on (TV, pipe band, movies....and now the Cute Blonde Boy :) ). But I enjoy reading whatever book the GABsters have selected for the next book club meeting. And there's that Harry Potter series, which I could re-read several times and still find new things within. So here's today's Insightful Question (presented in 2 parts):

1) What's your favourite book of all time? Or series of books?
2) What book are you reading at the moment, or have you read most recently?

As for me, my favourite series is the Harry Potter series (though Anne Rice's Vampire Chronicles held my attention pretty well, as did the few Sharon Kay Penman works I got through).

But the book that brings me back time and again is (promise not to laugh? really?) The Outsiders. If I've read it once, I've read it 60 times. And I still cry when I get to the part where Dallas is visiting Johnny in the hospital. It's not Shakespeare, or even Tolkein. But it takes me back to an era that I wish I'd been alive in, and to the time when I was reading it originally.

And I'm currently getting back through the 5th HP a bit at a time (as my computer freezes, I can get another chapter done). And I'll be buying the next GAB selection (something about Dressing Your Family In Denim) very shortly.

And I'll do my damnedest to get this one read. Honestly.

IQ - "Hey, you look like...."

2005-09-02T09:18:00.000-06:00

Well, kids, as we're coming up to a gloriously long weekend, I wanted to leave you with an Insightful Question to ponder/reply to/ignore.

Cute Blonde Boy offered this one up, and I think it's an interesting one:

What celebrity have you been told you resemble? Or who do you think (or wish) you resemble?

As for me, I don't think I've ever been told that I look like a celebrity. I get a LOT of "You look like my 2nd cousin", or "You remind me of a girl I knew in high school". But "Hey, if you had a mole, you'd be the spittin' image of Cindy Crawford!" has never brightened my day. And you know what? Don't care.

Besides, I'm dating Kiefer Sutherland. ;)

Counting.....

2005-09-01T08:23:00.000-06:00

Those of you who know me well, know that I frequently stop to consider just how fortunate I really am. And these past couple of days have been no different.

The end of summer may be closing in quickly, which may mean camping is done for the season, but at least I'm not stuck on a rooftop in the wicked heat and humidity, wondering if someone might help me, before I die of starvation, thirst or heat.

My dog may shed too much, and my cat's claws need trimmed, but at least I'm not faced with the heart-breaking (and I really mean that word: Heart. Breaking.) decision to let my cat go on to the next place to avoid further suffering.

My computer issues may be causing my head to hurt and want to throw the machine out the window, but at least I have a job where, for the past 5 years, I haven't really had to deal with this crap too much.

Gas may be reaching unthinkable prices, but at least I have a car in which to pump it.

I may not have many co-workers around me (today marks the last day for most of the rest of those who have been here these past 3 months), but at least I have good friends to chat with in the off-hours, and a fantastic beau with whom to spend time this weekend.

And I may have 10 fingers and 10 toes, but at least that's not all I need to count up my blessings.

@*&(^!%ing computer crap.

2005-08-31T15:28:00.000-06:00

Okay, now I'm just venting. Pretned you care, nod your head sympathetically, and I'll be done soon.

It's 3:30. I've spent the entire day so far fighting this damn machine. I came in this morning to a crashed hard drive. Called the local IT desk, and they brought over a hew hard drive. I've probably lost all kinds of personal and work data, but I'll have to deal.

Got that set up, and then spent about an hour onthe phone with an IT desk in Chicago, to try to install a program that's crucial to my work. No luck there.

Back on the phone with the local IT desk to gain access to a folder that I'd had access to for 5+ years. One hour later, he happened across the magic combo. Hooray.

Back to the Chicago desk, to ask for help reconnecting to yet another folder. NO luck.

Anyone need a burger flipper? I cuold probably troubleshoot any problems that came up in the kitchen.

Now back to your regularly scheduled Happy Pam.

IQ - What's valuable?

2005-08-30T11:26:00.000-06:00

I'm watching, with relative disbelief, the havoc that Katrina has wrought in the south. I truly can't imagine ever getting enough rain to flood the streets (since we don't get enough precipitation here to flood my patio, never mind an entire city). And enduring winds strong enough to literally open a domed arena like a can of tuna is beyond my ken.

But I found myself wondering, how will these people rebuild their lives? How many pets have drowned because this just came on so quickly? Did they plan ahead enough to have all their documents in a watertight, portable box? Would I be prepared for something like this? Which brings up today's Insightful Question (perhaps not as lighthearted as the past ones, but something to think about, anyway):

In a natural disaster like a flood or fire, presuming that the kids and pets are safely evacuated, what items do you gather in your one armload that you can grab before things are destroyed?

As for me, I actually do have most of my important documents in a small file box (though not fire-proof...must rectify), so I'd grab that, my Pooh Bear that I've had since I was 4 months old, the book of stories that Nana & Gramps made for me, and probably my box of poems. A big armload, but I'd manage.

Ah, wilderness.....

2005-08-29T11:00:00.000-06:00

So, I took a much-needed day off on Friday, and went camping with my beau (known better to you as CBB). Boy, I'd forgotten how much I like being out in the mountains.

As if to punctuate the need for getting away from the city for a while, our drive out of civilization was rudely stopped short by people gawking at the balloons at Chatfield Reservoir. The gear came flying forward and nearly smushed the poor dogs. A quick re-arranging by CBB, and we were back on our way (though a bit more cautiously).

I'm glad we went on a Friday. We had pretty much no traffic on the way up, found a selection of camping spots from which to choose, and had our stuff set on the picnic table to save our chosen spot by 10:00 (why is it that we trust that nobody'll take our stuff when up in the mountains, but we wouldn't leave that stuff sitting outside our back door at home? Hmm.) Then we took off for a nice hike with the pups. Once Sya (my GoofDog) had time to work all the "oh, joy, oh, rapture, oh how exciting" energy out of her, we had a pretty nice walk. Gorgeous weather (I'm not yet convinced that CBB doesn't have some sort of Connection -- we've just had the best luck with weather), not too difficult a trail (just enough to remind me that I need to get into better shape), and fantastic scenery, which goes without saying.

Back at camp that afternoon, everything pretty much just fell into place. It didn't seem to strike CBB as odd that I had a small tent for Sya, nor did I bat an eyelash at the fact that his tent was truly a 2-man deal. Here's where I'm coming from on this: If I'd suggested to The Ex that we spend a night in the mountains, sleeping more or less on the ground, in a bit of nylon that didn't have enough room for a mini-bar, I think I'd probably have been invited to bugger off. Ah but, you say, not all camping has to be quite so primitive. Some people, when they think "camping", think RV, think 4-room tents with awnings and hanging bug zappers, think stereos powered by small generators.

But not me. And not The CBB. And for some reason, that just struck me. Here's a guy who's perfectly happy to sit and have a cup of tea while just listening to the wind in the trees. Who's alright with taking a walk in the woods and not bringing along a beer. Who has a Coleman camping stove, and probably also owns a Svia (or some other tiny backpacking) stove. Who had the foresight to suggest that maybe my trademark jeans weren't the best apparel for camping (yanno, those fancy-schmancy REI hiking pants were really quite comfortable!).

It really was just the nicest mini-break I've had in I-don't-know-how-long. It was like a little validation of my upbringing, that in fact, I wasn't the only person to want to camp like this, that there was nothing odd at all about bringing your dinner in a couple of ready-to-boil pouches, that a handful of trail mix and a Jolly rancher makes a fine dessert for lunch on the trail.

And I'm starting to be really sad at the idea of summer being nearly done, because I'd really like to have another go at that. But then last night, he suggested snowshoeing. A whole different type of Adventure that I'd not considered. Looks like I'll need a different pair of REI pants.

IQ - "Roll the dice, whatsa matter, roll the dice!"

2005-08-25T10:31:00.000-06:00

The trouble with getting on a roll, is that then people get used to it, and I feel the pressure to post more often, whether I have something in mind or not. Guess what sort of day the brain is having today?

So, in light of my upcoming camping trip with Cute Blonde Boy, where there will be no IM, no internet, no TV, no cinema - just us, the woods, the dogs and a deck of cards......here's today's Insightful Question:

What's your favourite board game?

Since I grew up in a family where playing board games was a once-in-a-while special treat, I actually really enjoy playing them. If it's just me and another, then I like things like cribbage, Pass the Pigs, Monopoly, Life. If there's a bunch of us, I'll kick your ass at Pictionary any day.

'Course, nothing beats a good game of Mouse Trap.

IQ - "He can call me Flower, if he wants to."

2005-08-23T08:24:00.000-06:00

Okay, it's a quote from Bambi. It's all that came to my head this early in the morning.

So, this past Saturday, when Cute Blonde Boy came over before we headed up to the birthday celebration, he brought me a bouquet of flowers. (Isn't he the most??) And a nice bouquet of pretty, long-lasting flowers, so that I didn't have to throw them away 2 days after I got them. And as I was putting them in some water, he asked what my favourite flowers were. Hmm.... I think every girl likes roses, but they wilt so damn quickly, it's just sad. Mind you, I'm hard-pressed to resist a bouquet of gorgeous roses (like the brilliant sunset-orange ones I bought for myself last summer, because I just couldn't stop staring at them), but if I'm going to put forth a preference for cut flowers, I'll take something that will still be there in a few days.

So, here's today's Insightful Question (in 2 parts):

1) What's your favourite cut flower?
2) What's your favourite flower to see growing as it's meant to be?

My answer isn't a cut-and-dried one (no pun intended). I really love roses, but they wilt. I like things like tiger lilies or snapdragons, but they're not in most of your traditional floral arrangments. So I think a nice, bright bouquet of daisies is about as nice as anything. And it's still there days later, saying "Hi!" as cheerfully as the first day.

As for flowers in the field, I can't resist playing with a snapdragon ("Rahgh!"). But a patch of columbine will stop me in my tracks every time. Maybe there's be some still in bloom this weekend, when I go camping with Cute Blonde Boy.

Must've done something good, somewhere....

2005-08-22T08:30:00.000-06:00

Well, no Insightful Question today -- yet.

But I wanted to thank everyone who came out to help me celebrate my birthday on Saturday -- what a lucky girl I am!

I had a marvelous time, just celebrating with (most of) my favourite people, drinking a few ciders (and not too many!), and enjoying life in general. I really had only one thing in mind that I wanted for my birthday (only one thing that anyone has any control over, anyway), and I got that: some kick-ass kitchen piping. Neal and Adam both obliged my request to bring their pipes to the Celtic Tavern, and busted out some jigs, reels, hornpipes, etc. Neal even went to the effort to learn a new tune in time for my birthday: P/M George Allan. What a cool tune that is!!! And since I know he has about a bazillion other things going on in his life, too, I appreciate it that much more.

Thanks again to everyone who was able to make it (and to those who tried, but were detained). I really am so happy to have been surrounded by so many people that I adore.

What a lucky girl I am.

IQ - You sweet thang....

2005-08-18T08:40:00.000-06:00

You ready? Here's today's Insightful Question:

You're at the theater, and you've got the obligatory popcorn and ginormous soda. Presuming this is the non-existant Dream Theater, what candy do you take into the show with you?

As for me, I think I'll grab a box of gummi bears (but they'd better be free of any actual fruit juice, fer Pete's sake). And you'll see me holding them up to the screen to determine which ones are the white ones -- I save those for last.

"Haribo macht Kinder froh....Jungen ünd Mädchen liebt es so!"

IQ - Oh, how I wish.....

2005-08-17T12:07:00.000-06:00

Spent a lovely evening at the BB King concert last night, with Cute Blonde Boy, and as I noticed the first star in the sky, and the waxing moon, it occured to me that I hadn't wished on the evening star. I usually don't. I do wish to the moon pretty frequently, though. So from that, here comes today's Insightful Question:

What do you wish upon?

As for me, my favorites are a shooting star (where I lick my right thumb, press it into my left palm and wish as hard as I can -- must've gotten this from a book I read in about 3rd grade) and wishing on a stray eyelash. Odd, I know, but there you have it.

I'll not ask what you wish for, as everyone knows that negates the wish.

(mumble)

2005-08-16T11:43:00.000-06:00

Once again, for those who care, I've got a new Mumbling (I know -- twice in 2 weeks - -what gives??)

IQ - Ha, ha, very funny.

2005-08-16T09:49:00.000-06:00

Today's Insightful Question is inspired by a comic I saw this morning, and just had to send to Cute Blonde Boy. The question is this:

What comic strip would you live in for a week, if you had to?

As for me, I think I'd like to hang out with Frazz and his buddies for a while. They're just so darned intelligent/ironic/insightful.

Today's MiniMumbling has been brought to you by the letter I.

IQ - Leonard Nimoy, we salute you.

2005-08-15T09:12:00.000-06:00

Today's Insightful Question comes not from an e-mail quiz, but from what's going 'round in my head, as a result of the book I'm reading (courtesy of Cute Blonde Boy).

What mythological/supernatural creature do you secretly believe could actually exist?

As for me, I'm not quite sure that the Loch Ness Monster is a myth. I looked for her when we drove the perimeter of the loch, which has been a looong time. Alas, no Nessie.

We rock.

2005-08-14T19:42:00.000-06:00

Highland games -- just over. How'd we do? Glad you asked.

Quick March Medley on Saturday: 1st place.

Timed medley on Sunday: 1st place.

I've another post brewing, but I'm not focused enough right now. Just wanted to let you know how much we rock.

IQ - ...well, besides a blue ribbon, that is...

2005-08-12T13:53:00.000-06:00

In light of this weekend's Highland Games, today's Insightful Question comes not from any e-mail quiz, but from my own experience. Anyone who's ever worn a kilt has had The Question put to them, and some of us have a stash of interesting answers.

In response to the time-honored question of "What do you wear under your kilt?", what's your favorite answer (if you've been asked, yourself), or what answer would you most like to hear (if approaching an attractive kilt-wearer)?

Mine is tried and true:

"My shoes."

IQ - I got some iiiiiice cream.....

2005-08-11T08:55:00.000-06:00

Thanks to those of you who posted your replies to the previous post (and if you didn't, get yer arse down there and do so, please). Here's your next Insightful Question:

16. What is your favorite ice cream flavor?

As for me, it varies by my mood, but today, it's Praline Pecan.

Sadly, I'll have to settle for the banana yogurt that is my breakfast this morning. Not nearly the same, is it?

IQ - At least it's not Leo Sayer.

2005-08-09T21:20:00.000-06:00

Alright, I was going to forward one of those cutesy e-mails that asks you a bazillion questions about yourself, and you have to answer and send it on to a plethora of other people. Mostly, I'm dying to see The CBB's answers. But I thought what I'd do is this:
I'll post one question, every so often, and see if anyone's willing to Comment with their answer. I really am interested in what you have to say about these, so don't be shy, step on up.

#8: What is your most embarrassing CD?

I'll start:

Paula Abdul, "Forever Your Girl". Although I still like it, so it's not that embarrassing....

Now you.

Time to appreciate the little things

2005-08-08T17:23:00.000-06:00

So, I'm out of town on business -- again. And while I'd much rather be at home, chillin' with my kitty, or kicking ass at trivia with Cute Blonde Boy, I have found a few things here that don't suck.

They've put us up this time at the Hard Rock Hotel Chicago, which is pretty cool. Here's a short list of Things I'm Pretty Thankful For, In A Hotel Room:

Quiet. The first time they brought us out here, we were in a hotel that thinks quite a lot of itself, and (being very literal here) when I sneezed in my room, someone next door said "Bless you."
Big-ass towels. Take that "big-ass" in whatever sense you like. It's nice to have a towel that will cover one. Of course, you don't need it so much, if you have been provided with....
Terrycloth robes. I love mine at home, and am very happy to not have to pack one on the road.
Good conditioner. Those little bottles of "conditioning shampoo" just don't cut it.
Water pressure.
A DVD player. Mind you, none of the 5 slots in my fancy-schmancy Sony DVD changer in this room seem to want to play Eddie Izzard for me, but it's a nice thought nonetheless.
Feather pillows. Mmmm.....squishy and ball-uppable.
Feather comforter. Don't have one at home, but boy, do I need to change that.
Free internet access. How else would I tell you how much I'm appreciating the niceties of this room?

And, even though I'm not much of a schmoozer, if the circumstances are right, I sure do appreciate a meal on the boss's AmEx. So that's where I'm off to -- dinner with the team, much wine, I'm sure, and who knows what frivolity afterwards (this group + karaoke = fun!).

But no matter what, I know I'll appreciate many things in my room when I come back.

Like my plane ticket.

Sum, not the parts

2005-08-04T23:19:00.000-06:00

So, in the midst of my giddy drive home from a fantastic date tonight with Cute Blonde Boy, I came to realize something.

The parts don't matter so much.

Stop it. I know where you're going, and that road isn't on this particular map.

It occurred to me that I don't know so many things about him, and yet am increasingly mad about him.

And he reads this, so I'm going out on a limb by putting this much of my heart out there for all to see and reject or critique, but here goes. So often, when I have a crush on someone, I focus on the individual components, as if they were ingredients in a recipe.
"Does he dance? Check. Do I know his political bent? Check. Is he interested in the same bands as I am? Check." And so on. But I fail to see that, even with the best ingredients, it still adds up to rhubarb pie, and I just don't like rhubarb pie.

Nope. This time, I know comparatively little. And I don't really care. Sure, eventually, it would be nice to know if he's willing to go Christmas shopping with me, or what his favourite colour is, but right now, I'm having a hell of a time just spending time with him. It's chocolate cake, and whether the flour is Gold Medal or generic, whether the cocoa is Ghirardelli or Nestle, it all adds up to a yummy chocolate cake.

Eventually, I'll get around to asking him about piddly stuff such as his take on the war in Iraq, his past relationships, or whether he likes rhubarb pie.

More Mumblings

2005-08-04T16:55:00.000-06:00

For those that care, I've added another Mumbling.

It's a small one, but seeing as how most of my rambling has been over here recently, and my parents don't have access to this (on purpose), I figured I should make an appearance there occasionally.

It'll do you good to have some variety, for Pete's sake. Get over there, read it, then meander around my site until you just can't help but buy a T-shirt from the band.

"If you're gonna spew..."

2005-07-31T17:23:00.000-06:00

Nope, not a post about hurling. For the purposes of this discussion, "spew" = "journaling". There's more of a story, but you'll need to ask Dejo about that.

I just finished reading the final entry of the "Holy Book of Spew", which is an account of the travels of one really cute blond boy (IMHO), and his friends through Europe. Because Dejo was so dedicated in his descriptions of their adventures, I was able to travel along, nearly 20 years later. I wish I could say I've always been that good about journaling, myself.

I've been fortunate enough to travel quite a lot in my life thus far, including several trips to Europe, starting when I was nearly 11. I kept a small journal of our travels (at my Dad's suggestion, I believe -- good call!), but clearly hadn't yet realized the value of putting in any detail. For example, here's my entry from the day we visited Westminster Abbey in London:

Monday August 6

Mom & I went to Westminster Abbey. I stood on the burial places of Dickens, Kipling & Hardy. Mom & I rode the 2-decker bus.

Exciting, no? Can't you just feel the bustle of the city, the awe of being in a place saturated with as much history as Westminster is? Yeah, neither can I.

Thankfully, I've gotten a little better as the years have gone on. I tried to find the journal that I know I kept when I was in Europe the summer I turned 16. I'd love to see how descriptive I was in that one -- not only about the sights we saw, but my general feelings of the day. I think I was more or less a pain in the ass, being a 15-year-old who really didn't see the value in being in Europe if it meant she had to be with her parents the whole time.

Specifically, I'd like to read my account of the day that we went to the Olympic ice rink in Salzburg. I remember that we went ice-skating, and I somehow got into a conversation with a few handsome young men, who turned out to be recent recruits in the Austrian army. We each tested our ability to speak the other's language (them with more success), and eventually, they invited me to join them that evening at a party. I recall thinking my father was terribly unreasonable for not letting me go -- after all, they'd invited the whole family, but if they didn't want to go, why shouldn't I be able to? In retrospect, not letting his 15-year-old daughter go party with 18-year-old Austrian Army guys was one of my Dad's wiser decisions.

I've kept a journal of most of my major trips since then. It sure helps in remembering what actually happened, instead of letting my brain tweak the details. But I'll not be publishing mine, as Dejo has done. Nope, the difference between "Spew" and "Writing It Down So I Don't Forget" is that only one is available for your perusal.

'Scuse me, I've gotta go lock away some journals.

Do you smell something?

2005-07-27T09:00:00.000-06:00

I'm not crazy.

Okay, I might be, but it's not because I think pine trees have different smells. As long as I can remember, I have enjoyed stopping by the occasional pine tree to sniff it. Why? Because some of them smell like vanilla, chocolate, butterscotch, and the rare one like strawberry. Not all of them smell like anything other than plain ol' pine tree, but you never know. I think it's mostly the Ponderosas that have this unique scent. My Gramps thought we were nutters, even though he had a very plainly chocolate-scented one in his front yard.

Yesterday, I had confirmation from Cute Blonde Boy that the tree in front of my townhome has a distinct butterscotch scent to it. It's my personal theory that all these scents are part of what make the smell of a Rocky Mountain forest so divine. Sortof an ice cream sundae potpourri.

And while the only time I'm likely to actually hug a tree is if I'm lost (seriously -- best information I ever got from Girl Scouts), you'll often find me taking time to smell not only the roses, but the pines.

"Rainin' on my head like a memory"

2005-07-24T21:04:00.000-06:00

We had rain today. At last.

It brought to mind a couple of PPP's (for those who haven't read my early Mumblings, this is a Past Poetic Pretense) that I penned in my high school & college years. Actually, this is the one that came to mind first (I'll spare you the other one for now):

"Thunder and Irony"

The irony of crying
During a thunderstorm
Is that there’s
Never enough thunder to
Mask my sobs
But I can never cry enough to
Out-pour the rain.

9-3-87

I promise, I'm much more stable now. I don't break out in tears nearly as often as I used to. Of course, that's put a bit of a crimp in the volume of my writing. Until I found this blog thingy, which adds a whole new dimension to it all.

Ironic.

2005-07-22T22:21:00.000-06:00

When I did the spell check on my previous post, the word "blog" came up as something that might be misspelled.

Oooookay.

....aaand, I'm 13 again....

2005-07-22T22:02:00.000-06:00

Ya know, just when I think I'm mostly grown up (and at thirty-something, I really should be), I get this little setback.

I really was trying to read the selection for tomorrow's book club, but then a really good movie was on. Okay, it was "Princess Diaries 2" -- not exactly Oscar material. But I'm a girl -- forgive me for getting sucked into the fairy tale.

I'm pretty good at that, actually. Not being a girl -- I deplore shoe shopping, don't use moisturizer very often, and don't own a single actual matching set of bra & knickers. No, I'm really good at getting sucked into the fairy tale -- have been since I had a crush on Robin Hood (yes, the cartoon character).

Just every once in a while, I watch a chick flick and get that indescribable feeling deep in my stomach that is a combination of yearning for that written-for-the-silver-screen romance (complete with the requisite conflict) and the fear of never having it. Used to be, when this feeling afflicted me, I'd run to my typewriter to try and capture that topsy-turvy feeling on paper. I've got dozens of "poems" which were written in my teens (and a bit in my early 20's), most of which I can associate with whichever specific cute boy was occupying my heart at the time. I was going to post an example here, but they're just too cheesy. Thank goodness I don't do that anymore.

Nope, I've got my blog.

For the love of doG....

2005-07-21T11:31:00.000-06:00

Pet owners:

Pretty pretty please, get your pet microchipped.

I found another stray dog (it is my lot -- nay, my pleasure -- in life to stop and help a stray animal whenever I can) last night. Gorgeous husky, and I'm sure someone out there misses him terribly right now. With no collar on him (perhaps that came off before he got to my neighborhood?), I took him right to my vet, to have him scanned. Imagine my disappointment when nothing came up.

So, now I have a gorgeous, friendly, obviously-someone's-pet dog hanging out at my house, and I'm reduced to calling all the shelters and leaving a description, posting ads on CraigsList and the online classifieds, and wrestling with the question of "Exactly when do I cave, and take him to the shelter?"

So pretty please -- microchip your pet, so that in the unlikely event he or she gets all Houdini on yer ass, a sap like me can get them back to you. Cuz that's what I'd really like.

Tasty treat, or baneful broth?

2005-07-20T13:40:00.000-06:00

So, I bought a box of Fla•Vor•Ice pops last night, and stuck them in my freezer. Yes, I realize there's nothing natural about them (despite the claim on the package of "With Real Fruit Juice!"). I luurrrvve them on a hot summer day.

Got home, stuck them in the freezer, and then on my way out the door this morning, I decided that it might be nice to have a couple of these at work (you know, to get me ready for when the sub-arctic A/C kicks in, about 3:00). I tore off a strip -- one of each color -- and noticed that they were all frozen except the blue one, which still looked just as much like windshield washer fluid as it did when it went into the Maytag last night.

So, that got me to wondering.....is it possible that it really IS windshield washer fluid? 'Cuz that stuff doesn't freeze til something like -20° F. The I went to get a tasty frozen treat from my tiny work fridge just now, and the blue one is frozen.

Powerful little fridge, that. Managed to freeze windshield washer fluid.

Ms. Rowling, I don't know that I like you very much right now...

2005-07-18T14:08:00.000-06:00

So, that spoiler was true, and I didn't know who the HBP was.

And now that I've spent an hour in tears (had to go home and read the last 100 pages at lunch) and am no good for doing any actual work, I'm left to contemplate 2 things:

1. Why, Jo, why? I know, if I'll just reflect back on everything, it'll become apparent, but still. Why?

2. Am I really letting a book distract me like this?

My eyes! My eyes!

2005-07-18T09:22:00.000-06:00

Aaack! I was looking through an e-mail digest of a Harry Potter Yahoo group I belong to, and though there was a "Spoiler" warning, there wasn't enough space between that and the actual spoiler. I saw something that made my heart sink. Dammit. Now I have to sit here all day before I can go home and read as fast as ever I can, to see if maybe somebody wasn't just being (a) really mean or (b) really stupid.

Just as I was starting to warm up to Ms. Rowling's storyline, with some of the recent developments I"d just gotten to, and had actually clutched the book to my chest and said -- out loud -- "I love this book!!"

I hate not being a speed reader....oh, wait....that's what got me in this little pickle to begin with, wadn't it?

I think I know who the Half-Blood Prince is...

2005-07-17T21:17:00.000-06:00

So, I'm taking a break from making my way through the 652 pages of J.K. Rowling's latest installment of the Harry Potter series. I've realized I'm not going to finish the book this weekend, which annoys me just a little. For the 5th book, I went to the book release party just as I did this time (thanks, Katy, for keeping me company!), came home and starting reading, just as I did this time. I read for about 3 hours, I think (this time, I only managed about 45 minutes, which I attribute to my lack of disco nap beforehand). I slept as little as possible, then got up and spent about 8 hours solid on the couch, reading, moving only for nature's calls (mine, and the dog's). This time, however, I had a band gig to attend to about mid-day each day, which ate into the reading time, and also a couple of dates (I think -- still no sparks, but plenty of good conversation).

There's also the little annoyance of my eyes falling shut on me after a couple of hours' worth of reading. I take me sleep very seriously, I LOVE to sleep, but was rather planning to save it all for the nighttime, for a change. Still, I'm about 2/3 done with the book, and still reserving judgment on what Ms. Rowling is doing with a particular character -- I really hope I'm wrong on this one. I think I've figured out who the Half-Blood Prince is (it seems too easy -- am I missing something?), and am sometimes literally yelling at a character or two to get pull their heads out of their arses and wise up.

Just another evening or so, and I'll be done. Then I can re-read the 5th, and then the 6th book again. Ah, crap. Just remembered I've got a book club book to buy and read by Saturday next.

Do you suppose Hermione knows any speed-reading spells?

Simple pleasures

2005-07-13T08:15:00.000-06:00

I think, as long as I live, I will never tire of a few simple pleasures in life. There are several, actually, but the one that spurs this post was expereienced again last night. A warm summer evening, at the point where it's not too warm, driving along with all the windows open, your hand out the window, doing aeropalmics (my best friend's word for the little things everyone does, of making an airplane rudder out of your hand), and just generally enjoying driving for driving's sake.

Add a Slurpee® and the experience is pure bliss.

Oh, that zodiac...

2005-07-11T10:46:00.000-06:00

So, I went out on a 3rd (or maybe 2nd-and-a-half -- I'm not quite sure) date last night. Lovely conversation, plenty of funny moments, movie, a post-movie drink.....and yet, I'm not entirely certain that this guy really fancies me.

As a Leo, of course, I should assume that of COURSE he fancies me -- who wouldn't? But I expect to be told so, in no uncertain terms. I've been on a couple of dates with another guy -- a fellow Leo -- who has made it quite clear that I am, in fact, a dish. I dont know if that particular partnering could ever turn into a LTR, but at the moment, I don't really care. It's a great time, we have great conversation, and he nibbles my neck. Durrrrrr.....

Now this other fellow -- a Cancer -- would seem to enjoy my company, judging by the fact that he's gone to a baseball game with me (despite the fact that this is not his favourite sport), and offered to have our dogs meet at the dog park, and then suggested a movie later that evening (hence my question as to whether it was a 3rd date, or simply an extension of the 2nd), and suggested hiking next weekend. But getting eye contact from him is tough to do. Now, is that simply becuse he's shy? Or because I'm too direct? Or...? And though we sat through a 2-hour film, and then hung out for an hour or so over a beer, I've had no solid indication that perhaps he might think I'm cute or funny or interesting. I'm really not used to having to fish for these clues, and -- Leo though I am -- I'm not very good at simply coming out and saying "Hey, you're kinda cute -- kiss me, wouldja?"

Let me make it clear that, while I think the way the planets and stars are aligned at the moment of one's birth (and more so, conception), could have a small effect on the development of a person's physiology, how one is brought up, and how one's chemistry develops plays a bigger role in their personality. But you can't deny that so many of us display traits that are ascribed to our sun signs. And as I read the description of a Cancer ("...this sensual man doesn't come at you directly....Cancerians don't rush headlong into anything..."), it seems that I'll need to learn to be more of an aggressor, if I expect anything to come of this. That, or just be patient.

And as you may know, we Leos are not good at being patient. I want the adoration that's due me, and I want it NOW. ;)

****************************
Post-script:
Just to clarify, the Cancer (herafter known as Cute Blonde Boy) has confirmed that he does, in fact, fancy me, and the Leo has been out of the picture for some time now. I'm quite happy to call Cute Blonde Boy my beau. *grin*

"I was not angry....until this instant."

2005-07-07T07:43:00.000-06:00

From Shakespeare's Henry V, this was among the first thoughts in my head this morning, when I heard of the attacks in London.

I'm angry, of course, at the terrorists. You bastards. How dare you touch the city I love more dearly than nearly any other place on earth? How dare you fuck up the lives and routines of the people who merely want to live, work, and holiday in London? Go blow up something meaningful, like your own closed little minds.

I'm also angry at that farce of a President we have, for getting us into a meaningless, pointless war solely for the purposes of his own re-election, which has now caused other countries to be the target of the same terrorism that we are subject to. We're big bullies, yes, but did we have to drag our friends into this?

Anyway.

My heartfelt sympathies are, of course, with the friends and family of those absolutely innocent people whose lives have been snatched away by this morning's actions. I also send out prayers for patience and serenity for everyone who will have to figure out another way to travel around Londinium for the next, oh, few years (as I've seen the effects that a single incident can have on a Tube station -- nevermind actual explosions at mulitple, multi-line stations).

"Oh, that I were in an alehouse in London"

Laps around London?

2005-07-06T09:54:00.000-06:00

So, there you go: London has won the bid to host the 2012 Olympic games. So now the questions begin:

Are they going to rip up the city to build another Tube line, á la the Jubilee line? (Please God, no, says the likely pre-2012 London visitor)
Will we see the construction of another monstrosity like the Millenium Dome? Actually, now that I think about it, we'll probably see several, won't we? Perhaps they'll be in outlying areas. Well, they'd have to be, wouldn't they? What are the gonna do -- put the high jump in the Buckingam Palace back gardens?
Could I go and volunteer for the games? They have a link on their site, but seeing as there's no way to say "I don't live there, but I'm happy to come spend the summer there to help out", I'll bet they would rather I come as a paying visitor.
Just how much Boddington's will they have to produce, to sate the thirsts of a few million visitors?

Very exciting, though -- and since I listen to BBC Radio One all day at work, I'll be hearing all about the country's excitement about this. For 7 years.

Jetset jonesin'

2005-07-05T16:35:00.000-06:00

Why is it, that when I have such great/defined/admirable plans for the winnings, I don't win the lottery more often (aside from the fact that I don't play very often -- picky, picky, picky...)?

After the charitable contributions (humane socities galore) and taking care of the housing/transportation needs of myself and my closest friends & family, there is just a whole lotta traveling to be done.

An UmFriend of mine is headed off to England this week, and I couldn't be more envious. Never mind the fact that this is his first trip to the UK, whereas I've been fortunate enough to set foot on the island 5 or 6 times now. I wanna go!

And not just to Britain (though it really has been too long since I've been to Scotland, and that needs to be remedied ASAP). There's more of Switzerland, Germany, France and Austria that I need to explore. And good heavens, if I die before I've gotten to Italy, wouldn't that be a travesty??

It floors me that there are actually people in this world who have no interest in traveling anywhere, let alone overseas. The person I thought could have been my soulmate (except for the fact that he's now married and a daddy) mentioned in one of our e-mails that his idea of a perfect vacation would be to hang out in his bay window, playing guitar. A nice weekend, perhaps -- but to never want to meet new people, get lost and discover a fantastic restaurant, have the excitement of finally figuring out another city's public transportation system? Perish the thought.

Sigh. There, but for money, go I. Anyone out there need a personal tour guide for Scotland?

Is this really necessary?

2005-07-04T10:46:00.000-06:00

I already have Mumblings, so why do I need to supplement it with a blog? Well, perhaps I'll be more prone to drop a line here when I just have a Tiny Thought, instead of waiting until I can work up an entire Mumbling. And I kinda like the idea that you, Dear Reader (gotta think up a better Nickname for you, since that one seems to have been in use by a certain newspaper columnist for several decades now) can add your comments to my musings.

I have several friends who already blog (Psycho Kitty, Andrew, Patrick, Stiffa), and I like being able to add a comment. And I like the thought that perhaps I can learn from this -- I mean, other than the learning I already gain from getting these thoughts in writing.

No promises on the frequency here, but we'll give it a shot. And I'm counting on you give me what-for when I'm negligent.