I was tagged by Keli last week so it’s about time I get to it!
1. What was I doing 10 years ago?
- I was a TV news reporter in a small town, single and living with a roommate.
2. What are (were) 5 things on my to do list today?
- Apply for two jobs.
- Pay Bills
- Edit friend’s maternity photos for a CD.
- Catch up on bible study homework.
- Sew
3.What are my favorite Snacks?
- Quaker Rice cakes white cheddar flavor.
- Dove Dark Chocolate from the freezer.
4.What 5 things would I do if I was a Millionaire?
- Pay off debt (only a couple 1000 – not including my mortgage)
- Splurge on photography equipment, classes and a studio!
- Buy a modest house outright
- Buy a sofa and bedroom furniture
- Go to Italy
- Tuck money away for nieces/nephew college fund
- Invest the rest
- I wouldn’t tell anybody I came into the money – just do nice things for the people I love with it. (okay... that's more than five... I honestly didn't see the number in the question until after I posted! Oh well.)
5.What are 5 places I have lived? Lincoln, NE – Omaha, NE – Rapid City, SD – Denver, and my parent’s farm in Nowhere, Nebraska
6.What are 5 Jobs I've had?
Shoe sales (only it wasn’t fun like you would expect – they were ‘practical shoes’), Waitress, TV Reporter, TV Producer, Photographer
7.Who are 5 people tagged by me?Hmmm… I think I’ll pass.
Saturday, October 11, 2008
Friday, October 10, 2008
Maybe It's A Good Thing!
It's becoming quite clear that our break up must be a good thing.
We would have made one ugly baby:
Image produced by: http://www.vw.com/vwhype/babymaker/en/us/
We would have made one ugly baby:
Image produced by: http://www.vw.com/vwhype/babymaker/en/us/Update: I feel as though I'm past the wreckage. And that feels good. I may be entering bitterness, though I am keeping a handle on it.
Thanks everyone for your sincere and hopeful comments. You bless me. You really do!
God bless you right back!
Just for giggles - I tried reproducing again with better pictures. You be the judge.
I don't think this kid is much better!!
Monday, October 06, 2008
Abandoned
Could you hear the guttural cries?
I stood in the shower and sobbed. Heavy, dry gasps because no tears would come. I worried about my neighbors hearing but it was 3:00 in the afternoon. Most likely no one else was home.
I gasped and sobbed and cried out.
Once I completed my shower, I stood there clutching my towel and gasped and sobbed some more. Finally I threw my head back - allowing my throat to really open up - and released the kind of sound I expected to make. The sound of a heart breaking. When I thought it was over, they kept coming. Cries of anguish and pain. Still, no tears.
Then, after one last groan I sniffed mightily and said aloud, to myself: "Well, that will have to be enough then." Toweled myself off and tried to go on.
Mr. Burns and I are breaking up.
He told me that he finally realized something. He's not motivated. Not about our relationship, not regarding me. He doesn't know why he is not motivated but at least he identified that.
That was all I needed to hear. He's not motivated to love me. To claim me as his own and make sure no other man can have me. He's not motivated to care for me in the name of Christ - even though that is everything he wants to do.
I told him about the message God sent me - in triplicate no less - about surrender.
He said, "That sounds like the right thing to do. We'll put it in God's hands and see what he does with it. With us."
That was last Wednesday night. We were emotionless. We prayed together over our relationship and offered it to God.
I went away for the weekend. (to attend my cousin's wedding - irony and agony anyone?)
Then after 16 hours back in my own home the emotion overwhelmed me.
In the shower, just like another cousin told me it hit her - when a relationship ended and before she met the love of her life. She told me about sitting on the floor of her shower in a heaping sobbing mess and added, "So not worth it, by the way."
She did it for weeks.
We'll see what it takes for me.
But in all the agony, I realized that this is what surrender must look like. Drain yourself of all you thought you wanted and give yourself as a vessel for God to fill. I pray for God to use me.
Yet between sobs I called out "Why won't You use me? Why won't You make something of me?!"
After all this time unable to find work, USE ME LORD!
After I gave up hope of ever having a family, you brought Mr. Burns into my life and I feel tricked. As though you made me believe that I was good enough to have all the things that you seem to give so freely to everyone else. USE ME!
All I want is to have a family. I'm so tired of people telling me about all the celebrities who can make babies after 40 - and that I can always adopt. I'm adopted myself. I know all about it. But as someone without a blood family, I ache to make my own. I will adopt children from all around the world if God gives me husband with whom to make a family. But I can't get over the desire for God to use my body to create life. To nurse it and nurture it. To finally use me.
And I feel He never will.
I feel so abandoned. Even though I know I'm not... God would never abandon me, never leave my side but I feel so alone all the same.
I stood in the shower and sobbed. Heavy, dry gasps because no tears would come. I worried about my neighbors hearing but it was 3:00 in the afternoon. Most likely no one else was home.
I gasped and sobbed and cried out.
Once I completed my shower, I stood there clutching my towel and gasped and sobbed some more. Finally I threw my head back - allowing my throat to really open up - and released the kind of sound I expected to make. The sound of a heart breaking. When I thought it was over, they kept coming. Cries of anguish and pain. Still, no tears.
Then, after one last groan I sniffed mightily and said aloud, to myself: "Well, that will have to be enough then." Toweled myself off and tried to go on.
Mr. Burns and I are breaking up.
He told me that he finally realized something. He's not motivated. Not about our relationship, not regarding me. He doesn't know why he is not motivated but at least he identified that.
That was all I needed to hear. He's not motivated to love me. To claim me as his own and make sure no other man can have me. He's not motivated to care for me in the name of Christ - even though that is everything he wants to do.
I told him about the message God sent me - in triplicate no less - about surrender.
He said, "That sounds like the right thing to do. We'll put it in God's hands and see what he does with it. With us."
That was last Wednesday night. We were emotionless. We prayed together over our relationship and offered it to God.
I went away for the weekend. (to attend my cousin's wedding - irony and agony anyone?)
Then after 16 hours back in my own home the emotion overwhelmed me.
In the shower, just like another cousin told me it hit her - when a relationship ended and before she met the love of her life. She told me about sitting on the floor of her shower in a heaping sobbing mess and added, "So not worth it, by the way."
She did it for weeks.
We'll see what it takes for me.
But in all the agony, I realized that this is what surrender must look like. Drain yourself of all you thought you wanted and give yourself as a vessel for God to fill. I pray for God to use me.
Yet between sobs I called out "Why won't You use me? Why won't You make something of me?!"
After all this time unable to find work, USE ME LORD!
After I gave up hope of ever having a family, you brought Mr. Burns into my life and I feel tricked. As though you made me believe that I was good enough to have all the things that you seem to give so freely to everyone else. USE ME!
All I want is to have a family. I'm so tired of people telling me about all the celebrities who can make babies after 40 - and that I can always adopt. I'm adopted myself. I know all about it. But as someone without a blood family, I ache to make my own. I will adopt children from all around the world if God gives me husband with whom to make a family. But I can't get over the desire for God to use my body to create life. To nurse it and nurture it. To finally use me.
And I feel He never will.
I feel so abandoned. Even though I know I'm not... God would never abandon me, never leave my side but I feel so alone all the same.
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
What a Crazy World We Live In!
Well... I went ahead and sent an email to cartoonist Greg Evans. The man behind the Luann Comic Strip.
I wanted to express my support for this panel that appeared last Sunday:
I wrote about it here.
Well guess what... he emailed back.
TRS,
Amid the disapproving emails,
it's nice to get yours!
-greg
Who would email a cartoonist to criticize him for pointing out that NOT everyone is doing it?!!
I'm shocked! People are idiots.
I mean... I can see where some people accept the fact that some teens are sexually active. But to criticize abstinence in action?!?! Mind boggling!
I also understand why some people disapprove of abstinence only education, but to criticize someone for presenting abstinence as an option?!? Dumbfounding.
Sounds like Mr. Greg Evans could use some more support. Do you believe in abstinence? Let him know and thank him for speaking to teens in a way they can understand.
I'm sure some teens are relieved to know it's okay to be a virgin - and okay not to roll over and have sex just because 'everybody's doing it'.
Reality Check
I have a great group of girlfriends here in Denver. They are all active and social and pretty much down-to-earth. There are a few exceptions where the bar for 'down-to-earth' gets adjusted!
But for the most part, we all work hard, play hard and shop hard. Some of us splurge on designer goodies. Some of us troll TJMaxx and Target for bargains. Most of us do both. We all look fabulous! It must be noted.
We get together once a week - on Sundays to watch Desperate Housewives. It may no longer be anyone's favorite show but it is our excuse to get together. There is someone new almost every week. Or at least someone we haven't seen in months!
Last Sunday was the first DH of the new season - and so the first time we've had a Sunday evening together since May. We nibbled on delicious treats for an hour before the show started, chatting and catching up. We talked about our boyfriends, our jobs, our hair color.
A new woman came into the fold. Man did she look smart. Amazingly highlighted hair. Coiffed in a perfect, messy little knot. The sort I can never manage to pull off! She works at some chi chi gallery and her husband is running for a Sen@te Se@t. She seemed fun and friendly.
Until she knocked the wind out of me.
I was telling a little story about how the tiny little TV that my parents bought me when I left for college 20 years ago (the only one I've ever owned) finally blew out the blue tube. The TV still works but the picture is very green and fuchsia. Ha ha. Then there's the converter box I bought to make my TV compatible with the new HD signal - good thing Mr. Burns never got around to hooking it up. Ha ha some more.
The other girls all know me and understand that I use a product of any kind until it is all used up. So they chuckled with me and sympathized that it was time to buy new one. They also know about my employment situation, the latest car drama - everything.
This new woman interjected halfway through my story and said something like... "Oh honey just go buy a new TV. They're so cheap."
I couldn't form my thoughts into words fast enough to respond. My first thought was.... "Lady, you've never been poor have you?" My next thought was, I have a car with driver's side window that doesn't work... which gets priority? A $300 repair or a new TV? Never mind that I still use an antenna! My next thought is... what if I told her I found a similar TV on Craig$list for $10? Would she die of shock?
Even if I could get a HD ready TV for less than $200 - that's a month or two of gas or groceries.
But I keep going back to... "Lady, you have no idea what it is to scrape by do you?"
When we left for the night, she turned to me and said, "We'll have to find a way to get you a new TV sweetie." I said, "Oh, thanks! I'll take all your efforts to find me a job first. "
"Oh." She had no idea what to say.
Now I'm not saying that I don't have respect for this woman, or that she's rude or anything. It's just been a long time since I met someone in my circle who didn't know what it was like to struggle at some point.
And, I'll admit, that's my greatest prejudice. Rich people who have no comprehension of what it's like for the rest of the world.
If your answer is "just go buy it" you are out of touch! I mean at least have the ability to relate to the context. If I haven't replaced a 19 inch TV in 20 years, maybe it's pretty low on my priority list. But maybe that was her point. Buy a TV already!
We obviously have different ideas about discretionary cash.
Lady, I don't even have an iPod! Or a season ski pass. Or skis for that matter. I've been saving for a couch for four years now! Something else always comes up.
But for the most part, we all work hard, play hard and shop hard. Some of us splurge on designer goodies. Some of us troll TJMaxx and Target for bargains. Most of us do both. We all look fabulous! It must be noted.
We get together once a week - on Sundays to watch Desperate Housewives. It may no longer be anyone's favorite show but it is our excuse to get together. There is someone new almost every week. Or at least someone we haven't seen in months!
Last Sunday was the first DH of the new season - and so the first time we've had a Sunday evening together since May. We nibbled on delicious treats for an hour before the show started, chatting and catching up. We talked about our boyfriends, our jobs, our hair color.
A new woman came into the fold. Man did she look smart. Amazingly highlighted hair. Coiffed in a perfect, messy little knot. The sort I can never manage to pull off! She works at some chi chi gallery and her husband is running for a Sen@te Se@t. She seemed fun and friendly.
Until she knocked the wind out of me.
I was telling a little story about how the tiny little TV that my parents bought me when I left for college 20 years ago (the only one I've ever owned) finally blew out the blue tube. The TV still works but the picture is very green and fuchsia. Ha ha. Then there's the converter box I bought to make my TV compatible with the new HD signal - good thing Mr. Burns never got around to hooking it up. Ha ha some more.
The other girls all know me and understand that I use a product of any kind until it is all used up. So they chuckled with me and sympathized that it was time to buy new one. They also know about my employment situation, the latest car drama - everything.
This new woman interjected halfway through my story and said something like... "Oh honey just go buy a new TV. They're so cheap."
I couldn't form my thoughts into words fast enough to respond. My first thought was.... "Lady, you've never been poor have you?" My next thought was, I have a car with driver's side window that doesn't work... which gets priority? A $300 repair or a new TV? Never mind that I still use an antenna! My next thought is... what if I told her I found a similar TV on Craig$list for $10? Would she die of shock?
Even if I could get a HD ready TV for less than $200 - that's a month or two of gas or groceries.
But I keep going back to... "Lady, you have no idea what it is to scrape by do you?"
When we left for the night, she turned to me and said, "We'll have to find a way to get you a new TV sweetie." I said, "Oh, thanks! I'll take all your efforts to find me a job first. "
"Oh." She had no idea what to say.
Now I'm not saying that I don't have respect for this woman, or that she's rude or anything. It's just been a long time since I met someone in my circle who didn't know what it was like to struggle at some point.
And, I'll admit, that's my greatest prejudice. Rich people who have no comprehension of what it's like for the rest of the world.
If your answer is "just go buy it" you are out of touch! I mean at least have the ability to relate to the context. If I haven't replaced a 19 inch TV in 20 years, maybe it's pretty low on my priority list. But maybe that was her point. Buy a TV already!
We obviously have different ideas about discretionary cash.
Lady, I don't even have an iPod! Or a season ski pass. Or skis for that matter. I've been saving for a couch for four years now! Something else always comes up.
Monday, September 29, 2008
Teenagers After My Own Heart!
Isn't this a refreshing perspective on teenagers?
Link here if the image is too small to read.
Kudos to cartoonist Greg Evans for promoting abstinence!!! This was totally me in High School.
I had no idea that some kids my age were having sex. I had heard some rumors and dismissed most as just that ... rumor. The others I chalked up to just being slutty. I couldn't wrap my head around the idea.
After junior high - I went to Catholic School in one small town and my best friend from grade school and junior high went to the public school in another little town. The public school where it was taken as fact that lots of kids were having sex. Those dirty public schools! Joke.
Needless to say, that friend and I didn't hang out much any more. Not by way of segregation... just that we were both now in different high school experiences. Different friends.
One weekend, probably sophomore or junior year - my friend and I were hanging out in her high school town. Football game or something. We were driving around with one of her new friends and the topic turned to sex. She (the new friend) asked if I'd had sex and I answered incredulously... "NO!"
Then she asked my old friend, and (in hindsight I realize...) she hesitated for my benefit. I interjected. "Ugh. Who would want to?!"
The new friend glared at me. "That's a mean thing to say!"
Oh... was I confused! I didn't mean that she wasn't pretty or desirable. It was my clumsy way of trying to say.... "We're just kids! Why would we be having sex? Sex is for grown ups... for married people!"
I couldn't get my thoughts out... and I sat there a little ashamed for unintentionally insulting my friend - and for not speaking the morals that were on my mind.
Anyway, that's why I like the girls in this comic. Brave (in an odd way) of the cartoonist to send the message... NOT EVERYBODY IS DOING IT! AND THAT'S OKAY!
I think I'll send him an email.
PS - I share Luann's sentiments on Algebra as well!
Link here if the image is too small to read.
Kudos to cartoonist Greg Evans for promoting abstinence!!! This was totally me in High School.
I had no idea that some kids my age were having sex. I had heard some rumors and dismissed most as just that ... rumor. The others I chalked up to just being slutty. I couldn't wrap my head around the idea.
After junior high - I went to Catholic School in one small town and my best friend from grade school and junior high went to the public school in another little town. The public school where it was taken as fact that lots of kids were having sex. Those dirty public schools! Joke.
Needless to say, that friend and I didn't hang out much any more. Not by way of segregation... just that we were both now in different high school experiences. Different friends.
One weekend, probably sophomore or junior year - my friend and I were hanging out in her high school town. Football game or something. We were driving around with one of her new friends and the topic turned to sex. She (the new friend) asked if I'd had sex and I answered incredulously... "NO!"
Then she asked my old friend, and (in hindsight I realize...) she hesitated for my benefit. I interjected. "Ugh. Who would want to?!"
The new friend glared at me. "That's a mean thing to say!"
Oh... was I confused! I didn't mean that she wasn't pretty or desirable. It was my clumsy way of trying to say.... "We're just kids! Why would we be having sex? Sex is for grown ups... for married people!"
I couldn't get my thoughts out... and I sat there a little ashamed for unintentionally insulting my friend - and for not speaking the morals that were on my mind.
Anyway, that's why I like the girls in this comic. Brave (in an odd way) of the cartoonist to send the message... NOT EVERYBODY IS DOING IT! AND THAT'S OKAY!
I think I'll send him an email.
PS - I share Luann's sentiments on Algebra as well!
A Call for Prayers
Oh. Dear sweet friends of the Internet, I have had a distressing afternoon.
I had a confrontation with my neighbor. She lives below me on the second floor of a three floor Walk-up. She's a general nuisance but beyond that she is mentally ill. Bi-Polar or Schizo or both. I've written about her previously here and here.
She of course (of course in the sense of: in order to make my life as miserable as possible while at the same time behaving as a typical Bi-Polar case) refuses to take her meds, and prefers to self-medicate with alcohol.
When she's particularly agitated she comes home and blares her music so loud that there is 1) no way I can ignore it and 2) no way to drown it out. It vibrates my walls, floors and furniture. She slams her doors. Not just when she comes home but possibly when she is having arguments with the voices in her head. She sometimes slams doors at full decibel for 90 minutes at a time.
My neighbor below her works from home and has to sit in a coffee shop all day to do her work because she can't assume her days will be peaceful at home.
Everyone in this building but me is non-confrontational. They sort of take the attitude of "That's how it is so we'll just have to live with it." I am not that sort of person. Sometimes I wish I could be. Fact is I am not.
Instead, I embrace the fact that the law is on my side. So I went down and knocked on her door this afternoon and said, "If you can't start keeping your music at a neighborly level, we will have to start calling the police again to intervene."
She threw her door open and starting yelling at me. Told me not to threaten her. Told me that I'm loud all the time. She says I stomp around all the time. (I'm in bare feet 98.5% of the time that I am home - and I don't stomp.) Blames me for damage to her ceiling. (my bathroom pipes leaked - not that she bothered to tell me. She waited for the damage to infiltrate the first floor before I knew I had a leak.) I reminded her that I arranged and paid for the contractor and supplies to fix that.
I defended myself. Voices were raised. I wish I could have kept my cool but I didn't. And I am ashamed.
I am also scared. Our condo building has already taken her to court for throwing bricks through people's car windshields. She has keyed my front door... and my old car. I am now scared of what she'll do now that I've ticked her off good and well.
Mr. Burns reminded me to pray for her. And to pray for myself.
But my friends, I think I need help.
If you could pray for us too - I'd really appreciate it.
Side note: We are both unit owners in our building so it's not like we can have her evicted. Also - it's a terrible time to sell. I haven't had steady income in a year so I can't even prove income to rent a different apartment. I'm sort of stuck here.
I had a confrontation with my neighbor. She lives below me on the second floor of a three floor Walk-up. She's a general nuisance but beyond that she is mentally ill. Bi-Polar or Schizo or both. I've written about her previously here and here.
She of course (of course in the sense of: in order to make my life as miserable as possible while at the same time behaving as a typical Bi-Polar case) refuses to take her meds, and prefers to self-medicate with alcohol.
When she's particularly agitated she comes home and blares her music so loud that there is 1) no way I can ignore it and 2) no way to drown it out. It vibrates my walls, floors and furniture. She slams her doors. Not just when she comes home but possibly when she is having arguments with the voices in her head. She sometimes slams doors at full decibel for 90 minutes at a time.
My neighbor below her works from home and has to sit in a coffee shop all day to do her work because she can't assume her days will be peaceful at home.
Everyone in this building but me is non-confrontational. They sort of take the attitude of "That's how it is so we'll just have to live with it." I am not that sort of person. Sometimes I wish I could be. Fact is I am not.
Instead, I embrace the fact that the law is on my side. So I went down and knocked on her door this afternoon and said, "If you can't start keeping your music at a neighborly level, we will have to start calling the police again to intervene."
She threw her door open and starting yelling at me. Told me not to threaten her. Told me that I'm loud all the time. She says I stomp around all the time. (I'm in bare feet 98.5% of the time that I am home - and I don't stomp.) Blames me for damage to her ceiling. (my bathroom pipes leaked - not that she bothered to tell me. She waited for the damage to infiltrate the first floor before I knew I had a leak.) I reminded her that I arranged and paid for the contractor and supplies to fix that.
I defended myself. Voices were raised. I wish I could have kept my cool but I didn't. And I am ashamed.
I am also scared. Our condo building has already taken her to court for throwing bricks through people's car windshields. She has keyed my front door... and my old car. I am now scared of what she'll do now that I've ticked her off good and well.
Mr. Burns reminded me to pray for her. And to pray for myself.
But my friends, I think I need help.
If you could pray for us too - I'd really appreciate it.
Side note: We are both unit owners in our building so it's not like we can have her evicted. Also - it's a terrible time to sell. I haven't had steady income in a year so I can't even prove income to rent a different apartment. I'm sort of stuck here.
Friday, September 26, 2008
The Death of Journalism & Impartial Voting Information
You might have gleaned from a few details scattered around this blog, that I - for a large part of my life and career - was once a telev!s!on news rep0rter. (That's why I'm anonymous - I don't want potential employers to find me here via G00gle and then judge my writing ability by the casual and personal prose that I set forth here. Also there's that whole journalistic impartiality issue!)
I left the Beast (as we call it) when it was clear that stories on Brittany and the Beckhams were more important than actual journalism.
Eminent domain threatening the homesteaded land upon which your family toiled for 5 generations? Is your local government spending money it doesn't have? That you'll end up paying in tax hikes? B o r i n g !! Tell us something interesting - like is that celebrity pregnant or fat? WE NEED TO KNOW!
Ugh.
I blame the 24 hour news cycle. CNN came about when I was in college. Their boon came at the start of the Gulf War. Operation Desert Storm was the first American War covered LIVE on a daily basis. I was studying broadcasting and was fascinated by the live coverage from the War Zone. I remember gasping in shock and fear when I witnessed simultanously, mortar fire and the loss of the live signal. It was incredible. It was scary.
But once the Gulf War faded from the flickering 28 frames per second on our screens- they had to fill their 24 hour news cycle with something else. How about 24 hours of the OJ Simpson trial? 24/7 Jonbenet Ramsey coverage?
Pundints and so-called experts got their own tv shows. The line between journalist and show host blurred and then faded completely.
The news industry, which once boasted trusted newsmen like Huntley, Brinkley and Cronkite became the least trustworthy profession... beating out hated lawyers and used car salesmen.
Worst of all - when corporations bought out the networks - after the Reagan Administration eased the restrictions on TV station ownership - (it used to be that there was a limit on how many telev!is!on stations could fall under the same ownership. It was a protection of the public trust) - telev!s!on news in the public interest died.
When once we had to operate in the public interest, and present news and information in an equal and unbiased manner - now it's all about the almighty dollar. (you'd be surprised if you knew how very little your local news anchors and reporters make in salary. The almighty dollar is for the big wigs. In many towns, that glamorous news anchor makes less than a first year teacher. Surprise!! )
Today even the network news programs are labeled liberal or conservative - Republican or Democrat.
It's impossible to get untainted political information these days.
So ladies and gentlemen - in the spirit of unbiased journalism - I want to offer you all a source of unbiased political info.
The League of Women Voters. The LWV provides non-partisian informaton of each candidate's stance on the issues. Here you can find the break down of the Presidential Candidate's positions on common issues. You can also find neutral explainations of ballot considerations for your city and state.
Make an informed decision. Vote for what you believe - not what one guy said they'll do better than the other guy.
Good luck and happy voting! Vote early. Vote often. Vote at least once!
If you have resources for other non-partisian neutral guides please share.
I ask that any commenters refrain from blatent support or detraction of any one candidate on my blog.
Thank you.
I left the Beast (as we call it) when it was clear that stories on Brittany and the Beckhams were more important than actual journalism.
Eminent domain threatening the homesteaded land upon which your family toiled for 5 generations? Is your local government spending money it doesn't have? That you'll end up paying in tax hikes? B o r i n g !! Tell us something interesting - like is that celebrity pregnant or fat? WE NEED TO KNOW!
Ugh.
I blame the 24 hour news cycle. CNN came about when I was in college. Their boon came at the start of the Gulf War. Operation Desert Storm was the first American War covered LIVE on a daily basis. I was studying broadcasting and was fascinated by the live coverage from the War Zone. I remember gasping in shock and fear when I witnessed simultanously, mortar fire and the loss of the live signal. It was incredible. It was scary.
But once the Gulf War faded from the flickering 28 frames per second on our screens- they had to fill their 24 hour news cycle with something else. How about 24 hours of the OJ Simpson trial? 24/7 Jonbenet Ramsey coverage?
Pundints and so-called experts got their own tv shows. The line between journalist and show host blurred and then faded completely.
The news industry, which once boasted trusted newsmen like Huntley, Brinkley and Cronkite became the least trustworthy profession... beating out hated lawyers and used car salesmen.
Worst of all - when corporations bought out the networks - after the Reagan Administration eased the restrictions on TV station ownership - (it used to be that there was a limit on how many telev!is!on stations could fall under the same ownership. It was a protection of the public trust) - telev!s!on news in the public interest died.
When once we had to operate in the public interest, and present news and information in an equal and unbiased manner - now it's all about the almighty dollar. (you'd be surprised if you knew how very little your local news anchors and reporters make in salary. The almighty dollar is for the big wigs. In many towns, that glamorous news anchor makes less than a first year teacher. Surprise!! )
Today even the network news programs are labeled liberal or conservative - Republican or Democrat.
It's impossible to get untainted political information these days.
So ladies and gentlemen - in the spirit of unbiased journalism - I want to offer you all a source of unbiased political info.
The League of Women Voters. The LWV provides non-partisian informaton of each candidate's stance on the issues. Here you can find the break down of the Presidential Candidate's positions on common issues. You can also find neutral explainations of ballot considerations for your city and state.
Make an informed decision. Vote for what you believe - not what one guy said they'll do better than the other guy.
Good luck and happy voting! Vote early. Vote often. Vote at least once!
If you have resources for other non-partisian neutral guides please share.
I ask that any commenters refrain from blatent support or detraction of any one candidate on my blog.
Thank you.
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
Surrender
My new (used) car has a brand new stereo that the previous owner had installed. It’s pretty sweet – with a CD player, MP3 input, Sir!us capability and a cassette player – oh and a remote control! The guy I bought the car from said he discontinued the Sir!us service before he sold it to me, but it would take a few days before the service ended.
I wasn't going to subscribe to Sir!us so I switched the button to the radio tuner and forgot about it. Last week I bumped a button and discovered that the satellite service was still connected.
I scanned through the stations, found a Catholic network, and listened to a beautiful story about a mother who struggled with a very sick baby who was not expected to live. Understandably heartbroken, she talked with her priest who said, “You have to give this child back to God.” She was shocked. “But God gave her to me! How can I give her up?” The priest explained the importance of surrender and the incredible grace God grants to those who hand their most precious gifts back over to Him.
Of course the story concluded with a healthy child and a happy, blessed mom. I thought it was a great story and went on with my day.
A few days later, I found a set of cassette tapes that my best friend sent me a few years ago. They held a recording of a book on tape she wanted me to listen to. I haven’t had a working cassette player for years so I seized the opportunity to use my shiny new car stereo to finally listen to the book on tape.
The book was about living the big dream God has for your life. Our dreams are God given – to fulfill God’s plan for the world. We must face the obstacles and hardships to achieve our dreams in order to glorify God.
Listening to the tapes I tried to identify my big dream. Is it pursuing photography as a career? I doubt that factors into God’s great plan for the world. (however, this would qualify). I finally determined that my big dream is to be a wife and mother. But the more I thought about it, I couldn't understand why God would give me that dream – and then keep it out of reach for so long. Why would God wait until I’m 38 without even being engaged? How does He expect me to produce children… or even have the energy to adopt?! Why would He bring me SO CLOSE – finding Mr. Burns who is a righteous man of faith, matching me in family values and sense of humor – and still not make it clear that he is or is not the man for me? Isn't it unfair to give me a big dream that I can’t achieve on my own?! How can my dream be something that I need someone else to agree to pursue?!?!?!
Then toward the end of the book, the author reiterates his point that as we overcome the obstacles of the world… just when we can see our dream… almost reach out and touch it… God asks us to give our big dream back. It’s crushing. But almost every time, if you surrender your dream to God – He gives it back – bigger and better than you imagined.
Suddenly I understood. I have to surrender Mr. Burns. I must give him up and ask God to address his heart – to either make it right for a marriage with me – or whatever his heart may be destined for. And either God will give him back to me – even better than I imagined – or He will lead me to the fulfillment of my dream, in a manner I could never perceive on my own.
Tears rolled down my face as I was driving. Okay, God. I’m ready. I will surrender Mr. Burns’ heart. I know You will do what is best for both of us. What is best for Your will.
I have been praying for an unmistakable sign. Now here were two messages. Two messages I wouldn't have even heard if I hadn't totaled my car and bought one with a miracle stereo!!
The next day, I was to join Mr. Burns to attend a funeral. I wasn't sure when I would tell him about the surrender. Then a friend of his met up with us at the funeral and ended up joining us for brunch at a nearby restaurant.
I was a little uncomfortable…I felt I had to put on a little show for his friend while deep in my heart, I was preparing to end our relationship.
When our food arrived, as usual, Mr. Burns and I joined hands and the three of us said grace over our meal. Our friend smiled and said, “You know what is great about your relationship? The two of you can share prayer, and attend Mass together. You’re building your relationship on faith. That’s very important. I wish my wife and I could have had that. We have a great marriage but I always felt that was missing.”
Mr. Burns responded. "I agree. And I've never had this before." He smiled at me. "I was always looking for the wrong women. I didn't know that this is what I really wanted."
That stung a bit. Here I am planning to surrender the man I love – and God plants a big reminder of what is so right in my world. Why would I leave?
Later that night, Mr. Burns and I spent time together, wandering downtown, looking deeply into each other’s eyes, and discussing our relationship and some big concerns. Mr. Burns explained his struggle regarding his discernment about marriage. We had a great talk. I see progress.
So now what? Do I surrender? What is surrender anyway? Does it mean breaking up with a man who declares his love? Or does it mean that you just don’t struggle. You do your best and leave the rest to God.
When asked to surrender her child, a woman doesn't abandon it. She tends to the child's needs and leaves the rest to God.
But then again…
Tonight, in bible study we are exploring the life of Moses. We're at the beginning, in which the mother of Moses – in spite of the edict to kill all the newborn Hebrew boys – hides Moses for three months before she knows, by faith, that she must let him go. She sets him afloat in a basket in the Nile River and lets him go. Complete surrender.
Then God sneaks in blessing upon blessing.
There it is again.
Has God seen my willingness to surrender, and decided to show me what He has in store? Or is He showing me more of my dream? Bringing it close enough to taste and asking me again to surrender?
One friend told me that she sees I have been ready to surrender so many times, and God keeps giving me Mr. Burns back. In her mind, it is proven.
But I still don’t know. I prayed to see progress by the end of September – and here is progress on Mr. Burns' part. And a call to surrender on mine.
I wasn't going to subscribe to Sir!us so I switched the button to the radio tuner and forgot about it. Last week I bumped a button and discovered that the satellite service was still connected.
I scanned through the stations, found a Catholic network, and listened to a beautiful story about a mother who struggled with a very sick baby who was not expected to live. Understandably heartbroken, she talked with her priest who said, “You have to give this child back to God.” She was shocked. “But God gave her to me! How can I give her up?” The priest explained the importance of surrender and the incredible grace God grants to those who hand their most precious gifts back over to Him.
Of course the story concluded with a healthy child and a happy, blessed mom. I thought it was a great story and went on with my day.
A few days later, I found a set of cassette tapes that my best friend sent me a few years ago. They held a recording of a book on tape she wanted me to listen to. I haven’t had a working cassette player for years so I seized the opportunity to use my shiny new car stereo to finally listen to the book on tape.
The book was about living the big dream God has for your life. Our dreams are God given – to fulfill God’s plan for the world. We must face the obstacles and hardships to achieve our dreams in order to glorify God.
Listening to the tapes I tried to identify my big dream. Is it pursuing photography as a career? I doubt that factors into God’s great plan for the world. (however, this would qualify). I finally determined that my big dream is to be a wife and mother. But the more I thought about it, I couldn't understand why God would give me that dream – and then keep it out of reach for so long. Why would God wait until I’m 38 without even being engaged? How does He expect me to produce children… or even have the energy to adopt?! Why would He bring me SO CLOSE – finding Mr. Burns who is a righteous man of faith, matching me in family values and sense of humor – and still not make it clear that he is or is not the man for me? Isn't it unfair to give me a big dream that I can’t achieve on my own?! How can my dream be something that I need someone else to agree to pursue?!?!?!
Then toward the end of the book, the author reiterates his point that as we overcome the obstacles of the world… just when we can see our dream… almost reach out and touch it… God asks us to give our big dream back. It’s crushing. But almost every time, if you surrender your dream to God – He gives it back – bigger and better than you imagined.
Suddenly I understood. I have to surrender Mr. Burns. I must give him up and ask God to address his heart – to either make it right for a marriage with me – or whatever his heart may be destined for. And either God will give him back to me – even better than I imagined – or He will lead me to the fulfillment of my dream, in a manner I could never perceive on my own.
Tears rolled down my face as I was driving. Okay, God. I’m ready. I will surrender Mr. Burns’ heart. I know You will do what is best for both of us. What is best for Your will.
I have been praying for an unmistakable sign. Now here were two messages. Two messages I wouldn't have even heard if I hadn't totaled my car and bought one with a miracle stereo!!
The next day, I was to join Mr. Burns to attend a funeral. I wasn't sure when I would tell him about the surrender. Then a friend of his met up with us at the funeral and ended up joining us for brunch at a nearby restaurant.
I was a little uncomfortable…I felt I had to put on a little show for his friend while deep in my heart, I was preparing to end our relationship.
When our food arrived, as usual, Mr. Burns and I joined hands and the three of us said grace over our meal. Our friend smiled and said, “You know what is great about your relationship? The two of you can share prayer, and attend Mass together. You’re building your relationship on faith. That’s very important. I wish my wife and I could have had that. We have a great marriage but I always felt that was missing.”
Mr. Burns responded. "I agree. And I've never had this before." He smiled at me. "I was always looking for the wrong women. I didn't know that this is what I really wanted."
That stung a bit. Here I am planning to surrender the man I love – and God plants a big reminder of what is so right in my world. Why would I leave?
Later that night, Mr. Burns and I spent time together, wandering downtown, looking deeply into each other’s eyes, and discussing our relationship and some big concerns. Mr. Burns explained his struggle regarding his discernment about marriage. We had a great talk. I see progress.
So now what? Do I surrender? What is surrender anyway? Does it mean breaking up with a man who declares his love? Or does it mean that you just don’t struggle. You do your best and leave the rest to God.
When asked to surrender her child, a woman doesn't abandon it. She tends to the child's needs and leaves the rest to God.
But then again…
Tonight, in bible study we are exploring the life of Moses. We're at the beginning, in which the mother of Moses – in spite of the edict to kill all the newborn Hebrew boys – hides Moses for three months before she knows, by faith, that she must let him go. She sets him afloat in a basket in the Nile River and lets him go. Complete surrender.
Then God sneaks in blessing upon blessing.
There it is again.
Has God seen my willingness to surrender, and decided to show me what He has in store? Or is He showing me more of my dream? Bringing it close enough to taste and asking me again to surrender?
One friend told me that she sees I have been ready to surrender so many times, and God keeps giving me Mr. Burns back. In her mind, it is proven.
But I still don’t know. I prayed to see progress by the end of September – and here is progress on Mr. Burns' part. And a call to surrender on mine.
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
An Accomplishment and a Gift
This a project I've had on the back burner for a while... and finished ... well... not quite in time. 
This cheery cherry apron is a birthday gift for my very best friend. Her birthday is today. I already told her that her gift would be late.
I had her unwittingly pick out the fabric last winter. I sent her an email with photos of fabric options. She told me she was very excited upon opening photo links - thinking I had Bridesmaid dresses in mind! Hah! When she saw the flowered and cherried options she knew she was off track!
After she picked the cherry print I scoured a couple of fabric stores several different times for a suitable contrasting fabric. Finally, I found this red polka dot print. 
Cute huh?
Cute huh?
In the end, I also used bits and pieces of three different apron patterns to get the style I had in mind.
Other seamstresses might just wing it... and I have before... but cannibalizing patterns works just as well.
Why an apron? I was inspired by this post from Conversion Diary. (She's an amazing writer and has beautiful things to say about the Catholic faith from the eyes of a former atheist.) But I especially liked her musings on what it means to have a well-worn apron.
It is my wish for my best friend. Happy Birthday Kim!!
Having a well-worn apron means:
You have food to eat
You have someone to cook for
You have someone to sit down at the table with you to share in the fruits of your efforts
You have the resources and the physical ability to make homemade meals
You have the energy and the money to wear clothes that are nice enough to be worth protecting
You care enough to do all of the above
Sunday, September 14, 2008
Why You Little...
Sometimes I just have to accept that getting my reusable, cloth grocery bags into the car is success in itself. At least I can always run back to the car for them.
During my last trip to the grocery store, I had ultimate success. Remembering to bring all 4 bags along into the store with me.
The cashier and I traded small talk. He (like most grocery clerks) agreed that most people manage to get their cloth bags to the car but not always into the store. Then for some reason the conversation turned to the bags themselves. Durability most likely... and I pointed to the most colorful one in my little collection.
I mentioned that I've had it for years. I got it as a freebie at some Earth Day event when I was in college.
"Oh I know." he said, "I had the same one for a while." Then he added, "My mom had it when I was a kid."
I glared at him. Then I shamed him a bit for proving my age!
"I got it in college and then you tell me you were a kid! How rude!"
He laughed. And hung his head a bit.
As we finished the transaction and he gave me the obligitory, "Thank you for shopping at Safeway Miss TRS."
I answered, "You're welcome... pipsqueak."
"I deserved that." came his reply.
During my last trip to the grocery store, I had ultimate success. Remembering to bring all 4 bags along into the store with me.
The cashier and I traded small talk. He (like most grocery clerks) agreed that most people manage to get their cloth bags to the car but not always into the store. Then for some reason the conversation turned to the bags themselves. Durability most likely... and I pointed to the most colorful one in my little collection.
I mentioned that I've had it for years. I got it as a freebie at some Earth Day event when I was in college.
"Oh I know." he said, "I had the same one for a while." Then he added, "My mom had it when I was a kid."
I glared at him. Then I shamed him a bit for proving my age!
"I got it in college and then you tell me you were a kid! How rude!"
He laughed. And hung his head a bit.
As we finished the transaction and he gave me the obligitory, "Thank you for shopping at Safeway Miss TRS."
I answered, "You're welcome... pipsqueak."
"I deserved that." came his reply.
Thursday, September 11, 2008
I Need Your Help With My Feet!
Fall is one of the toughest times of the year for me. Transition time.
Transitioning to cute, light fall jackets is no problem. My agony lies in the shoe department.
This will be the third fall in a row where all I find in my closet are cute open toed sandles and strappy heels .... and... knee high boots with 3 inch heels. Not much of a transition. I need something somewhere in the middle.
But all I find in the stores are chunky loafers sporting what appear to be tire treads on the bottom, or modest little old lady style shoes that look like they originated in the principal's office (or the convent).
The loafer just doesn't seem to cut it for me. For some reason I don't seem to like them. Almost everything else I see is a flat Mary Jane - which seem to oddly expose way too much sock! And every last one of them is uncomfortable. I try them on and they won't stay on my feet!
I scanned the latest InStyle Magazine (fashion bible) - and all I saw were open toed shoes and knee high boots. So at least I know I'm fashionable - but I still want something 'practical'.
The additional challenge is - I'm really low on funds right now so I'm looking at Ross and TJMaxx - hoping to stay between $15 and $35.
Last night I found these Mary Jane heels. 
I think they look kind of cute with jeans and slacks and of course skirts - but I worry they are a bit too 'Last Year'. After all, I didn't see a single pair of Mary Janes in this fall's InStyle.
What are you wearing this fall? Show me pictures. I need help!!
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
Only Because I'm Home At 10:00am
Since I'm home at 10:00am and I don't have cable... I switch the TV to the View in the mornings.
Joy Behar tends to get on my nerves. She is at once, a crotchety old lady and a junior high teenager who rolls her eyes when you disagree with her.
One would think that would be tough to pull off. Apparently she's had years of practice and has perfected the art.
What bothers me most is her stereotypical East Coast/ Liberal attitude that assumes "If you don't agree with me, you must be an uneducated idiot."
Joy, not all of us have abandoned our faith. I'm sorry the nuns picked on you in school - but some of us got past that --- sifted the truth from the propeganda and got on with our lives. Not everyone gives up on faith when it gets hard to explain and sometimes incovenient to practice.
Today as she nitpicked every tidbit of information that has been associated with Vice Presidential Nominee Sarah Palin, she blurted out, "I'm sorry, but the Media is in love with this woman. It's out of control!"
Oh really? And you had blinders on during the Obama worship services?
Here's your own medicine. Have a taste.
Joy Behar tends to get on my nerves. She is at once, a crotchety old lady and a junior high teenager who rolls her eyes when you disagree with her.
One would think that would be tough to pull off. Apparently she's had years of practice and has perfected the art.
What bothers me most is her stereotypical East Coast/ Liberal attitude that assumes "If you don't agree with me, you must be an uneducated idiot."
Joy, not all of us have abandoned our faith. I'm sorry the nuns picked on you in school - but some of us got past that --- sifted the truth from the propeganda and got on with our lives. Not everyone gives up on faith when it gets hard to explain and sometimes incovenient to practice.
Today as she nitpicked every tidbit of information that has been associated with Vice Presidential Nominee Sarah Palin, she blurted out, "I'm sorry, but the Media is in love with this woman. It's out of control!"
Oh really? And you had blinders on during the Obama worship services?
Here's your own medicine. Have a taste.
Monday, September 08, 2008
Overheard At Target
4:30pm
11 year old girl to mom: "You know, I haven't had lunch yet."
Mom: "You had those cheesesticks. That was lunch."
Seriously? Look lady, you are part of the problem! Can I send you about a million articles on nutrition , childhood obesity, and childhood diabetes?
Even better... she gets to reproduce and I don't. Life is NOT fair!
11 year old girl to mom: "You know, I haven't had lunch yet."
Mom: "You had those cheesesticks. That was lunch."
Seriously? Look lady, you are part of the problem! Can I send you about a million articles on nutrition , childhood obesity, and childhood diabetes?
Even better... she gets to reproduce and I don't. Life is NOT fair!
Wednesday, September 03, 2008
And Just Like That....
And just like that... it's Fall.
Mr. Burns mentioned it on Sunday, the last day of August. He said, "It seems as soon as it's September it's Fall."
Labor Day was still rather hot but... Tuesday - Boom!
That fall chill is in the air. Welcome to Colorado folks.
The one downside to living in Colorado, in my opinion, is that summer is so short.
In Nebraska - where I grew up and spent the majority of my adult life - it's usually good and warm until mid-October.
One doesn't have to carry a jacket along for the day until at least October 10th.
In Denver, boom... it's September 2nd and I need a fleece hoodie. At noon!
The trade off of course is that the fleece hoodie is good pretty much until mid-December - whereas in Nebraska you pull out the parka in mid-November and keep it handy until well into March!!
At least that's how I remember it. You know, absence makes the heart grow fonder and all.
Mr. Burns mentioned it on Sunday, the last day of August. He said, "It seems as soon as it's September it's Fall."
Labor Day was still rather hot but... Tuesday - Boom!
That fall chill is in the air. Welcome to Colorado folks.
The one downside to living in Colorado, in my opinion, is that summer is so short.
In Nebraska - where I grew up and spent the majority of my adult life - it's usually good and warm until mid-October.
One doesn't have to carry a jacket along for the day until at least October 10th.
In Denver, boom... it's September 2nd and I need a fleece hoodie. At noon!
The trade off of course is that the fleece hoodie is good pretty much until mid-December - whereas in Nebraska you pull out the parka in mid-November and keep it handy until well into March!!
At least that's how I remember it. You know, absence makes the heart grow fonder and all.
Thursday, August 28, 2008
I Can't Believe it Either!
I read the comics every day.
In fact, when I moved to Denver, I was disappointed to find that between the Denver Post and the Rocky Mountain News... not even three of my top five comics were represented. A G**gle search ensued to find my daily comic strips Online. I don't remember how, but eventually I found the Seattle Times Online and along with it, my top 5 comics.
Part of me hates to admit that I read Cathy. Not in my top 5 - but it's there when I check on the others so it doesn't hurt to check in. She's usually good for a laugh.
Occasionally, I share a funny strip with friends. For example: Pickles pokes great fun of humans and cat/human relationships... so that's great to share with my pet owner friends.
But last week, Cathy struck a cord relationship-wise.
Mr. Burns and I have learned that we have very different mental processes.
For example:
As a typical woman, my mind is constantly mulitasking. In fact, when I talk about pursuing photography... before long I'm talking about buying a new SLR with more megapixels because mine only has 6. Next thing, I'm talking about taking out a wall in my condo so I can have room for an office and a potential studio. Mr. Burns gets exhausted and says... "Why don't you work out steps 1-10 instead of jumping up to step 1,243?"
Mr. Burns sticks to one task at a time. I can't ask about plans for holiday travel while he's making breakfast - because he's busy thinking about breakfast!
Ugh!
So, I gritted my teeth and sent him this Cathy strip:
I was a little afraid he wouldn't even read it because it's Cathy. So imagine my surprise when that evening, I asked him a question and he said... "Refer to the Cathy strip." !!!
He's referred to it a few times since then. It takes a big man to embrace Cathy. But for the sake of communication, I guess he thinks it's worth it!
In fact, when I moved to Denver, I was disappointed to find that between the Denver Post and the Rocky Mountain News... not even three of my top five comics were represented. A G**gle search ensued to find my daily comic strips Online. I don't remember how, but eventually I found the Seattle Times Online and along with it, my top 5 comics.
Part of me hates to admit that I read Cathy. Not in my top 5 - but it's there when I check on the others so it doesn't hurt to check in. She's usually good for a laugh.
Occasionally, I share a funny strip with friends. For example: Pickles pokes great fun of humans and cat/human relationships... so that's great to share with my pet owner friends.
But last week, Cathy struck a cord relationship-wise.
Mr. Burns and I have learned that we have very different mental processes.
For example:
As a typical woman, my mind is constantly mulitasking. In fact, when I talk about pursuing photography... before long I'm talking about buying a new SLR with more megapixels because mine only has 6. Next thing, I'm talking about taking out a wall in my condo so I can have room for an office and a potential studio. Mr. Burns gets exhausted and says... "Why don't you work out steps 1-10 instead of jumping up to step 1,243?"
Mr. Burns sticks to one task at a time. I can't ask about plans for holiday travel while he's making breakfast - because he's busy thinking about breakfast!
Ugh!
So, I gritted my teeth and sent him this Cathy strip:
I was a little afraid he wouldn't even read it because it's Cathy. So imagine my surprise when that evening, I asked him a question and he said... "Refer to the Cathy strip." !!!He's referred to it a few times since then. It takes a big man to embrace Cathy. But for the sake of communication, I guess he thinks it's worth it!
Friday, August 22, 2008
Meet Sylvia
Ladies and Gentlemen, I'm pleased to introduce Sylvia!
After a mindnumbing 2 week search for a car to replace Gracie... I finally found Sylvia yesterday. She's a 1996 Toyota Camry.
I am convinced that car shopping cannot be fun. Unless you can walk into a dealer with $40,000 and say... I want that car - it can't possibly be fun.
My experience was made all the more distressing by the fact that I wasn't prepared to buy a car. Gracie and I were getting along fine. Then suddenly, she was dead. No time to research or comparision shop. Worst of all... I was limited to the cash amount the insurance company gave me for Gracie. $3,000. Yeah. If you think it stinks looking for a car to begin with - try sticking to that price range! Thank heavens the insurance company gave me a rental car for 5 days.
The first few cars I saw were disgusting. I felt as though I wanted to put on a hazmat suit before sitting in them.
So I didn't even sit in them!
I told the salesman no freaking way - that's unacceptable and I expect something as clean and pretty as Gracie or don't even show it to me. I don't want to feel like I have to boil the car to disinfect it!
I did not make friends.
I won't even go into the disappointment of Craigslist scams... Scam after scam... ugh! And the the many people who either don't bother to meet you after you've agreed upon a time... or schedule an appointment with someone else... and sell their car even though they told you they wouldn't even be available until the next evening.
It was disheartening even though I did eventually find Sylvia through Craigslist.
My mechanic checked her out... found just a few problems that are worth fixing... and deemed the car a winner! I went back to my new Craigslist friend with the inspection report and repair summaries and he took $500 off the original offer.
Sylvia and I were united (the paperwork actually says: To have and to hold!) upon the exchange of $3,300!
And now, a moment of reflection for Gracie.
There will never be another like her. (Wish I could put a music montage here!!)
After a mindnumbing 2 week search for a car to replace Gracie... I finally found Sylvia yesterday. She's a 1996 Toyota Camry.
I am convinced that car shopping cannot be fun. Unless you can walk into a dealer with $40,000 and say... I want that car - it can't possibly be fun.
My experience was made all the more distressing by the fact that I wasn't prepared to buy a car. Gracie and I were getting along fine. Then suddenly, she was dead. No time to research or comparision shop. Worst of all... I was limited to the cash amount the insurance company gave me for Gracie. $3,000. Yeah. If you think it stinks looking for a car to begin with - try sticking to that price range! Thank heavens the insurance company gave me a rental car for 5 days.
The first few cars I saw were disgusting. I felt as though I wanted to put on a hazmat suit before sitting in them.
So I didn't even sit in them!
I told the salesman no freaking way - that's unacceptable and I expect something as clean and pretty as Gracie or don't even show it to me. I don't want to feel like I have to boil the car to disinfect it!
I did not make friends.
I won't even go into the disappointment of Craigslist scams... Scam after scam... ugh! And the the many people who either don't bother to meet you after you've agreed upon a time... or schedule an appointment with someone else... and sell their car even though they told you they wouldn't even be available until the next evening.
It was disheartening even though I did eventually find Sylvia through Craigslist.
My mechanic checked her out... found just a few problems that are worth fixing... and deemed the car a winner! I went back to my new Craigslist friend with the inspection report and repair summaries and he took $500 off the original offer.
Sylvia and I were united (the paperwork actually says: To have and to hold!) upon the exchange of $3,300!
And now, a moment of reflection for Gracie.
There will never be another like her. (Wish I could put a music montage here!!)
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Home of the Brave ~ Land of the Free
One of my favorite parts of the Olympic Games is the medal ceremonies.
No matter which country is represented - I love seeing the great pride on the faces of the athletes whose life dedication is finally realized.
No matter which national anthem is played, you can often see the emotion well up- in the close-up shot of the Gold Medalist as the music swells.
But there is no pride like that of watching an American on the podium - and recognizing the words of our anthem moving across their lips.
Sadly, during these Olympic Games I have yet to witness that.
I was convinced, at the start of Gymnast Shawn Johnson's ceremony (she's from the heartland of America, Des Moines, Iowa after all) that she would certainly be overcome with the lyrics. Her lips didn't move a twinge except for that weird lip biting thing she does.
So disappointing.
In ALL of Michael Phelps medal ceremonies - I didn't see him mouth the words even once!
Shocking!
Has national pride sunk so low? Or do these young whippersnappers just not even know the words?!?!?!
But to be honest... I was most disappointed in the live producers for NBC. Yes... Michael Phelps won his final and upteenth Gold medal... outdoing even Mark Spitz... but during the medal ceremony for the Relay... the camera stayed on a tight shot of Phelps' face during the ENTIRE NATIONAL ANTHEM!!!!
It was a medal ceremony for the RELAY. Relay. That's four... count them, 4 guys!!!
I'm happy for Phelps but come on... it was like his 13th Gold medal! It was probably the ONLY gold for the three other guys who HELPED WIN THE EVENT!
Way to downplay their accomplishment.
Geez. Now for the history of the world... there will be no footage for these other three guys to show their families and potential grandchildren of them on the Gold Medal podium.
Bone head move NBC! Maybe a 4 shot would have been sufficient if you didn't want to take the bleeping camera off of Phelps.
And Phelps seems to be a pretty down to earth guy. I'm sure he's embarrassed that NBC couldn't stop lauding him long enough to give his teammates proper due.
No matter which country is represented - I love seeing the great pride on the faces of the athletes whose life dedication is finally realized.
No matter which national anthem is played, you can often see the emotion well up- in the close-up shot of the Gold Medalist as the music swells.
But there is no pride like that of watching an American on the podium - and recognizing the words of our anthem moving across their lips.
Sadly, during these Olympic Games I have yet to witness that.
I was convinced, at the start of Gymnast Shawn Johnson's ceremony (she's from the heartland of America, Des Moines, Iowa after all) that she would certainly be overcome with the lyrics. Her lips didn't move a twinge except for that weird lip biting thing she does.
So disappointing.
In ALL of Michael Phelps medal ceremonies - I didn't see him mouth the words even once!
Shocking!
Has national pride sunk so low? Or do these young whippersnappers just not even know the words?!?!?!
But to be honest... I was most disappointed in the live producers for NBC. Yes... Michael Phelps won his final and upteenth Gold medal... outdoing even Mark Spitz... but during the medal ceremony for the Relay... the camera stayed on a tight shot of Phelps' face during the ENTIRE NATIONAL ANTHEM!!!!
It was a medal ceremony for the RELAY. Relay. That's four... count them, 4 guys!!!
I'm happy for Phelps but come on... it was like his 13th Gold medal! It was probably the ONLY gold for the three other guys who HELPED WIN THE EVENT!
Way to downplay their accomplishment.
Geez. Now for the history of the world... there will be no footage for these other three guys to show their families and potential grandchildren of them on the Gold Medal podium.
Bone head move NBC! Maybe a 4 shot would have been sufficient if you didn't want to take the bleeping camera off of Phelps.
And Phelps seems to be a pretty down to earth guy. I'm sure he's embarrassed that NBC couldn't stop lauding him long enough to give his teammates proper due.
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Lessons Learned: Never Drive in a Monsoon
I have the most heart wrenching news. I broke my car.
I am crushed beyond words. I loved my car. Her name was Gracie. She was the first car I owned that wasn't a hand-me-down from my parents. I picked her out and bought her myself.
I am crushed beyond words. I loved my car. Her name was Gracie. She was the first car I owned that wasn't a hand-me-down from my parents. I picked her out and bought her myself.
On Friday night Denver got some much needed rain. I went to fill in at a different studio and ended up in a part of town where I rarely venture. When I closed the shop I went outside and noticed a huge black cloud and knew that it was going to open up.
It did. The downpour couldn't drain off the streets fast enough... and I got caught in high water. Just prior to that, the rain was beating the windshield so hard that I couldn't even see out. I determined that I had best pull over - but before I got a chance, my car stalled.
I sat there, stuck in the far right lane with my hazard lights on, praying that no one would rear-end me while I waited for Mr. Burns to drive all the way across town to rescue me. I could hear and feel the water swell and swirl beneath Gracie each time another car passed by.
We tried to charge the battery but that wasn't it. We went to a nearby auto parts store and asked for advice. They thought it could be the starter - maybe it took on water and given a chance to dry out it could start right up. We let Gracie sit in a restaurant parking lot to dry out all day Saturday.
Come Sunday morning, still no change. We had AAA tow it to the dealership two blocks from where I stalled out.
The diagnosis came on Monday: Water got into the motor... problems compound from there... needs new engine. The cost of this repair exceeds the value of my car by at least $2,000. My insurance company is looking into it.
Tonight as I lay fitfully with sleep alluding me... I realized this:
I totalled my first car on 8-08-88 - and pretty much killed Gracie on 8-08-08.
Weird huh?
8 is supposed to be a lucky number (In China anyway - that's why the Olympic games opened on 8-08-08) But as a friend pointed out... maybe my car stalling where it did kept me from a worse accident further down the road. And in 1988 - my parents didn't want me to take my car to college. Could be Divine intervention there too - totalling the car. Perhaps that prevented a road trip or joy ride that carried a worse fate.
God only knows.
RIP Gracie.
Update: Sad to report that the Insurance Inspector agreed with the diagnosis. Gracie is a total loss. Off she goes to the big salvage yard in the sky.
It did. The downpour couldn't drain off the streets fast enough... and I got caught in high water. Just prior to that, the rain was beating the windshield so hard that I couldn't even see out. I determined that I had best pull over - but before I got a chance, my car stalled.
I sat there, stuck in the far right lane with my hazard lights on, praying that no one would rear-end me while I waited for Mr. Burns to drive all the way across town to rescue me. I could hear and feel the water swell and swirl beneath Gracie each time another car passed by.
We tried to charge the battery but that wasn't it. We went to a nearby auto parts store and asked for advice. They thought it could be the starter - maybe it took on water and given a chance to dry out it could start right up. We let Gracie sit in a restaurant parking lot to dry out all day Saturday.
Come Sunday morning, still no change. We had AAA tow it to the dealership two blocks from where I stalled out.
The diagnosis came on Monday: Water got into the motor... problems compound from there... needs new engine. The cost of this repair exceeds the value of my car by at least $2,000. My insurance company is looking into it.
Tonight as I lay fitfully with sleep alluding me... I realized this:
I totalled my first car on 8-08-88 - and pretty much killed Gracie on 8-08-08.
Weird huh?
8 is supposed to be a lucky number (In China anyway - that's why the Olympic games opened on 8-08-08) But as a friend pointed out... maybe my car stalling where it did kept me from a worse accident further down the road. And in 1988 - my parents didn't want me to take my car to college. Could be Divine intervention there too - totalling the car. Perhaps that prevented a road trip or joy ride that carried a worse fate.
God only knows.
RIP Gracie.
Update: Sad to report that the Insurance Inspector agreed with the diagnosis. Gracie is a total loss. Off she goes to the big salvage yard in the sky.
Monday, August 11, 2008
A Heart As Big As This Country
If you want to see what a big heart looks like - go here:
Sending Them Home
The most beautiful and touching story I have seen in years.
God bless each and every man and woman serving to uphold our nation's freedom - and fighting for others whether we like or not.
Sending Them Home
The most beautiful and touching story I have seen in years.
God bless each and every man and woman serving to uphold our nation's freedom - and fighting for others whether we like or not.
Thursday, August 07, 2008
Just Chill
I've decided to chill.
Since Mr. Burns and I hit the one year mark back in February... and especially since he didn't accompany me home for my dad's big birthday party (in May), I've been a bit desperate for answers regarding just where this is going.
More to the point, I've been talking to way too many friends about it. And way too many of those friends have advised me to end it. They say he won't know just what he has until he's faced with being without me.
Well, I just can't. And I finally realized - here's the biggie - that I definitely can't end this relationship with the idea that he's going to beg me to come back. No. If I'm going to end it, it has to be because I'm ready for it to be over and I don't expect a reconciliation. It's just not in my nature to create a manipulation like that. Furthermore, I believe it would be toying with God's will if I pretended that was what I want.
Because here's the thing. It's not as if I'm in a bad relationship. We have a great relationship. I'm just in a relationship that doesn't know exactly what the next turn is going to be. And isn't that most relationships?
I've thought, several times, that if we were already married - this would be a phase of our relationship that we would have to work through. But because we're not married - I'm supposed to end the relationship? What sort of sense does that make?
One particular eye-opener came during a chat with the woman who cleans my condo building. (See, I told you I talk to way too many people about it! Even the cleaning lady.) She's such a sweet and tough little lady in her 50s who is also searching for love. When I told her that all of my friends - the ones who don't live near me and have never met Mr. Burns - tell me to get out. She asked what my other friends say.
"They all say that we're a great match."
So she asks, "Are the friends who tell you to leave married?"
"Yes." I responded with startled surprise. "You're right, they are all married!"
"Don't listen to them. They have distorted hindsight. They think their relationships are so perfect and they don't remember the struggles they had while they were dating their husbands. Marriage has wiped their memory clean." Then she continued, "I am so sick of my married friends doing the same thing to me!"
That really made me think... and it reinforced my idea that if I were already committed to this man with a ring and a house and a sacrament that I would work through it. Why does he deserve less commitment to our relationship because he hasn't popped the question yet? Don't I love him just the same? Wouldn't I expect it from him?
Then I decided - I just need to shut up. He's never going to feel inclined to sweep me off my feet if I'm constantly badgering him about what is coming next. That's no fun. He needs to see the woman he has fun with, who enjoys his company, who greets him sweetly and without expectation. The woman he can imagine spending his life with as a partner - not a nag.
I'm not talking about being a pushover. I'm talking about enjoying my relationship again.
And since I've started doing this - the smile on his face when he sees me is bigger and brighter. His eyes sparkle with joy and affection. His embrace is tighter and warmer. He won't even let go of my hand when he shifts gears while driving!
Suddenly I realize, this may not even be a change. He may have been looking at me this way all along but I couldn't see it because I was busy holding him against my checklist, my to-do list, and my calendar.
When I spent my time being frustrated, I was annoyed at his flirtatious smile because I took it as meaning he didn't feel the anxiety I was feeling.
He struggles with the same anxiety in his own way. Is he the man for me? Is he using up the last of my childbearing years if he determines we are not a forever match? That's a lot of pressure on him too.
I have prayed and prayed asking God to show me if I should leave... and the answer hasn't been clear. I'll just wait until it is. Perfectly.
Since Mr. Burns and I hit the one year mark back in February... and especially since he didn't accompany me home for my dad's big birthday party (in May), I've been a bit desperate for answers regarding just where this is going.
More to the point, I've been talking to way too many friends about it. And way too many of those friends have advised me to end it. They say he won't know just what he has until he's faced with being without me.
Well, I just can't. And I finally realized - here's the biggie - that I definitely can't end this relationship with the idea that he's going to beg me to come back. No. If I'm going to end it, it has to be because I'm ready for it to be over and I don't expect a reconciliation. It's just not in my nature to create a manipulation like that. Furthermore, I believe it would be toying with God's will if I pretended that was what I want.
Because here's the thing. It's not as if I'm in a bad relationship. We have a great relationship. I'm just in a relationship that doesn't know exactly what the next turn is going to be. And isn't that most relationships?
I've thought, several times, that if we were already married - this would be a phase of our relationship that we would have to work through. But because we're not married - I'm supposed to end the relationship? What sort of sense does that make?
One particular eye-opener came during a chat with the woman who cleans my condo building. (See, I told you I talk to way too many people about it! Even the cleaning lady.) She's such a sweet and tough little lady in her 50s who is also searching for love. When I told her that all of my friends - the ones who don't live near me and have never met Mr. Burns - tell me to get out. She asked what my other friends say.
"They all say that we're a great match."
So she asks, "Are the friends who tell you to leave married?"
"Yes." I responded with startled surprise. "You're right, they are all married!"
"Don't listen to them. They have distorted hindsight. They think their relationships are so perfect and they don't remember the struggles they had while they were dating their husbands. Marriage has wiped their memory clean." Then she continued, "I am so sick of my married friends doing the same thing to me!"
That really made me think... and it reinforced my idea that if I were already committed to this man with a ring and a house and a sacrament that I would work through it. Why does he deserve less commitment to our relationship because he hasn't popped the question yet? Don't I love him just the same? Wouldn't I expect it from him?
Then I decided - I just need to shut up. He's never going to feel inclined to sweep me off my feet if I'm constantly badgering him about what is coming next. That's no fun. He needs to see the woman he has fun with, who enjoys his company, who greets him sweetly and without expectation. The woman he can imagine spending his life with as a partner - not a nag.
I'm not talking about being a pushover. I'm talking about enjoying my relationship again.
And since I've started doing this - the smile on his face when he sees me is bigger and brighter. His eyes sparkle with joy and affection. His embrace is tighter and warmer. He won't even let go of my hand when he shifts gears while driving!
Suddenly I realize, this may not even be a change. He may have been looking at me this way all along but I couldn't see it because I was busy holding him against my checklist, my to-do list, and my calendar.
When I spent my time being frustrated, I was annoyed at his flirtatious smile because I took it as meaning he didn't feel the anxiety I was feeling.
He struggles with the same anxiety in his own way. Is he the man for me? Is he using up the last of my childbearing years if he determines we are not a forever match? That's a lot of pressure on him too.
I have prayed and prayed asking God to show me if I should leave... and the answer hasn't been clear. I'll just wait until it is. Perfectly.
Friday, August 01, 2008
Dear Dove,
Dear Dove,
Is there a shortage of dark chocolate?
Stores in Denver, Colorado are shockingly short on Dove Dark Chocolate! It's been happening for weeks. While their supplies of Dove Milk Chocolate, Dark Chocolate with Almonds - and every other concievable variety is plentiful... the shelf space dedicated to Dove Dark Chocolate either sits empty or is filled with something not as fabulous as Dove Dark.
I'm worried there's going to be a run on Dark Chocolate. Is this related to the impending recession? What shall we do?
My boyfriend and I each keep a couple bags of Dove Dark Chocolate in our freezers (it's so good cold!) We usually head to the store to buy two bags at a time. However, for the past few weeks we've been on a wild goose chase.
What is happening? Should we be concerned? Is there any way to help?
Sincerely, and with great concern,
TRS
Is there a shortage of dark chocolate?
Stores in Denver, Colorado are shockingly short on Dove Dark Chocolate! It's been happening for weeks. While their supplies of Dove Milk Chocolate, Dark Chocolate with Almonds - and every other concievable variety is plentiful... the shelf space dedicated to Dove Dark Chocolate either sits empty or is filled with something not as fabulous as Dove Dark.
I'm worried there's going to be a run on Dark Chocolate. Is this related to the impending recession? What shall we do?
My boyfriend and I each keep a couple bags of Dove Dark Chocolate in our freezers (it's so good cold!) We usually head to the store to buy two bags at a time. However, for the past few weeks we've been on a wild goose chase.
What is happening? Should we be concerned? Is there any way to help?
Sincerely, and with great concern,
TRS
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Me in (not) my underwear!
You've probably seen the commericals featuring actress Sarah Chalke promoting Hanes Wedgie free panties. What a dream that would be eh?
Well, every Wednesday - Hanes is offering free panties if you sign up on their website. What girl can't use free undies? So I signed up last Wednesday and they came in the mail this morning.
Uh oh.
See, it's like this - when you sign up you can pick your size, but you don't get to pick the style - which I see as a flaw in their otherwise genius promotion.
Here is what I got.
Briefs. BRIEFS people! Not even 'low rise' briefs. Actual granny panty briefs! Not to mention Pink! Ugh!
I pulled them out of the package and held them up, estimating they would come all the way up to my chest.
Not quite.
Here they are under a casual skirt.
Well, not so much under if you want to be accurate!
I guess I'll take them over to Goodwill (in the box of course! Don't worry, I tried them on with my own undies as a barrier). Maybe there is a sweet little 80 year old who will think they're perfect for her.
I mean no ill will to Hanes. Anyone who has a mission of wedgie prevention is clearly doing the Lord's work. And offering free panties is generous.
In fact, I bought a package of their bikini style wedgie-free undies a few weeks ago and they are quite fabulous.
I can't say entirely wedgie free - but that's my own fault.
Of course we all know the only way to keep undies from riding up your butt cheeks is to have rock solid buns.
I remember those days. I thought I'd found all the world's greatest panties... turns out it was my @ss! Can you get it back after 35 and beyond?
Hey, if anyone else got their free sample... let me know if they sent any other styles out! I'm curious if they are only sending briefs or they are doing random styles and random colors.
Well, every Wednesday - Hanes is offering free panties if you sign up on their website. What girl can't use free undies? So I signed up last Wednesday and they came in the mail this morning.
Uh oh.
See, it's like this - when you sign up you can pick your size, but you don't get to pick the style - which I see as a flaw in their otherwise genius promotion.
Here is what I got.
Briefs. BRIEFS people! Not even 'low rise' briefs. Actual granny panty briefs! Not to mention Pink! Ugh!
I pulled them out of the package and held them up, estimating they would come all the way up to my chest.
Not quite.
Here they are under a casual skirt.
Well, not so much under if you want to be accurate!I guess I'll take them over to Goodwill (in the box of course! Don't worry, I tried them on with my own undies as a barrier). Maybe there is a sweet little 80 year old who will think they're perfect for her.
I mean no ill will to Hanes. Anyone who has a mission of wedgie prevention is clearly doing the Lord's work. And offering free panties is generous.
In fact, I bought a package of their bikini style wedgie-free undies a few weeks ago and they are quite fabulous.
I can't say entirely wedgie free - but that's my own fault.
Of course we all know the only way to keep undies from riding up your butt cheeks is to have rock solid buns.
I remember those days. I thought I'd found all the world's greatest panties... turns out it was my @ss! Can you get it back after 35 and beyond?
Hey, if anyone else got their free sample... let me know if they sent any other styles out! I'm curious if they are only sending briefs or they are doing random styles and random colors.
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
But I Want to Save the World!!!
Recently I have learned that Scooters (you know, Vespa - Honda - etc.) get 100 miles per gallon. PER GALLON! 100 Miles!
Makes me sick to my stomach that my fully paid off, fully insured, trusty tank of a Chevy gets around 20 - 23 miles per gallon. Ugh. (Please don't tell my car that I called her a tank. Seriously. She'll be peeved. You know you're beautiful darling! I NEVER said any such thing!!)
Now that gas has topped $4 a gallon, I reclaimed my bike from my boyfriend's storage unit, determined to make my short trips on the Schwinn.
I've started looking at panniers for my mountain bike.
It might look a little silly. Maybe I need a cruiser - for a back up bike - instead.
But I'd really rather have a Scooter. All the short trips I make -- running around between 5 and 10 miles of my home - in the city- on streets that don't exceed 35 mph - it's all really better suited to a scooter than a car.But I don't have a job right now so it'd be silly to spend $3,000 - $5,500 on a shiny new scooter.
But I hate knowing that I could be using so much less gas. Not for the price of gas but for the environment.
So when I talked to my dad today, I told him about my little dream. I thought since he tools around the farm on a four wheeler that he would be supportive of my desire to protect the environment.
Instead, he laughed out loud. Seriously. Then he proceeded to tell me that I'd get killed on a scooter. Too dangerous.
But Dad, your 10 year old grandson drives the four wheeler all over tarnation!
It has 4 wheels. It's safer. And it's not in traffic.
But Dad, gas is $4.00 a gallon, and scooters make 100 miles per gallon!
It won't save you that much money.
But Dad, that's like 5Xs better than my car! And it's not about the money it's about saving the planet! When I start driving a scooter for the majority of my trips, they won't even have to consider drilling for more oil in the United States.
He laughed even harder. Then he went on to share that my brother's semi truck gets 5 miles per gallon!
OMG! I exclaim. Then I have to have a scooter just to make up for the damage my brother is doing to the world!
Driving a scooter won't offset all the gas that the trucking industry uses.
But Dad, if everyone who lived in the city switched to scooters for small trips - it could! Almost every car on the streets in the city only has one person in it. What a waste! They should all be driving scooters... then the roads would be safer too. It would be all scooters.
Now he's laughing almost hysterically.
So I whimper a little and say, "So you're not going to help me buy one?"
Hell no! More laughter. And if you buy one, I'm going to come out to Denver and take it away from you.
This is where I have to remind everyone that I am 38 years old!!!!
But Dad, I never ask for anything. I can't believe you won't help me save the world.
Disclaimer: Anyone who knows me at all, knows that I would never ask my parents to buy me anything - much less something in that price range! The last thing I asked my parents to fund that entered 1000s of $$$$ was my room and board in college. Yeah, just the room and board.
The conversation documented here did happen - and most of the whiney dialogue was in jest. But I have to admit that I sort of hoped, dad would find the investment sound if not a little quirky and offer to kick in a little bit or at least start shopping classified ads for me!
Anyway, I figure at least now Dad has a good story to tell his friends.
Thursday, July 17, 2008
I Think I Just Blew It!
When I met Mr. Burns he wore those washed out, light colored jeans from the 90s. Despite the fact that it was already 2007. When he came to pick me up for dates, I admit I cringed at the jeans.
I remember asking one of the relatively stylish, married guys that I worked with, "At what point can I tell him to buy dark denim jeans?" Paul told me it had to be subtle. Something like pointing out a friend of his or at the store and saying, "Those dark jeans would look really good on you."
Then when he tries them, load on the positive reinforcement.
So that's what I did.
Before long, he went shopping on his own and came back with one light pair, one dark pair. He is an engineer after all, so if there was going to be a change it was going to be gradual.
I oohed and ahhed every time he wore the dark jeans. Now, he wears light jeans when he's working in the field - where he's bound to get dirty. And the MANY pair of dark denim jeans he's accumulated are worn ALL the rest of the time.
Success!
Tonight we met a group of his friends for dinner. The couple who got married in April is moving and this was their send off.
I rarely drink, so when I ordered a beer - Mr. Burns was SHOCKED! I followed with a Mojito. As a result I was fairly tipsy.
The newly married couple was joking about how she seems to be in charge now that they're married. Women all around the table were encouraging this, saying that's the way it should be. One woman said, "Is she smart?" Hubby said, "Hell yeah, she's smart." "THEN DO WHAT SHE SAYS!" came the reply.
On the ride home, I pointed to Mr. Burns jeans and mentioned how much I like them.
Yeah, he likes them too.
I said something like, "Good thing for my influence."
Mr. Burns bristled. "What are you talking about? I bought these myself."
No you didn't. Yes I did. No you didn't. Yes I did.
Oh yeah. He did.
I should have dropped it there - but I said, "Yeah you did, after I influenced you."
"No you didn't."
"Sure." I said. "It had nothing to do with me. You picked them out all on your own."
"That's right."
"It had nothing at all to do with me suggesting it and then telling you how good they look every time you wear them. Yep, I never asked Paul how to get you to buy dark denim jeans."
The light bulb flicked on in his head and I saw on his face he was irritated. Irritated because a minor manipulation had just been revealed. I could almost see the words working through the gears in his head. "I've been bamboozeled! Damn. I thought I would never let a woman get the best of me."
He did not say this - but I saw it on his face.
Then a similar palor drew over my face, as I realized I should never have revealed that I have the keys to manipulate him, even if in a small and harmless way. Oh Damn!
Then I blurted out, "Oh. I shouldn't have told you that. Damn Mojito!"
At that, Mr. Burns laughed. "Truth serum! It finally got you!"
Then he said he's going to wear light jeans from now on just to bug me.
I remember asking one of the relatively stylish, married guys that I worked with, "At what point can I tell him to buy dark denim jeans?" Paul told me it had to be subtle. Something like pointing out a friend of his or at the store and saying, "Those dark jeans would look really good on you."
Then when he tries them, load on the positive reinforcement.
So that's what I did.
Before long, he went shopping on his own and came back with one light pair, one dark pair. He is an engineer after all, so if there was going to be a change it was going to be gradual.
I oohed and ahhed every time he wore the dark jeans. Now, he wears light jeans when he's working in the field - where he's bound to get dirty. And the MANY pair of dark denim jeans he's accumulated are worn ALL the rest of the time.
Success!
Tonight we met a group of his friends for dinner. The couple who got married in April is moving and this was their send off.
I rarely drink, so when I ordered a beer - Mr. Burns was SHOCKED! I followed with a Mojito. As a result I was fairly tipsy.
The newly married couple was joking about how she seems to be in charge now that they're married. Women all around the table were encouraging this, saying that's the way it should be. One woman said, "Is she smart?" Hubby said, "Hell yeah, she's smart." "THEN DO WHAT SHE SAYS!" came the reply.
On the ride home, I pointed to Mr. Burns jeans and mentioned how much I like them.
Yeah, he likes them too.
I said something like, "Good thing for my influence."
Mr. Burns bristled. "What are you talking about? I bought these myself."
No you didn't. Yes I did. No you didn't. Yes I did.
Oh yeah. He did.
I should have dropped it there - but I said, "Yeah you did, after I influenced you."
"No you didn't."
"Sure." I said. "It had nothing to do with me. You picked them out all on your own."
"That's right."
"It had nothing at all to do with me suggesting it and then telling you how good they look every time you wear them. Yep, I never asked Paul how to get you to buy dark denim jeans."
The light bulb flicked on in his head and I saw on his face he was irritated. Irritated because a minor manipulation had just been revealed. I could almost see the words working through the gears in his head. "I've been bamboozeled! Damn. I thought I would never let a woman get the best of me."
He did not say this - but I saw it on his face.
Then a similar palor drew over my face, as I realized I should never have revealed that I have the keys to manipulate him, even if in a small and harmless way. Oh Damn!
Then I blurted out, "Oh. I shouldn't have told you that. Damn Mojito!"
At that, Mr. Burns laughed. "Truth serum! It finally got you!"
Then he said he's going to wear light jeans from now on just to bug me.
Monday, July 14, 2008
Hot Hot Hot
I don't spend much time mooning over celebrities.
When forced to name a male celebrity that might be capable of making me swoon, I can't come up with the typical Brad Pitt or other standbys.
I pick John Cusack.
Kyle Chandler. And Sting.
When forced to name a male celebrity that might be capable of making me swoon, I can't come up with the typical Brad Pitt or other standbys.
I pick John Cusack.
Kyle Chandler. And Sting.
This drives Mr. Burns batty.
The other night Sting came up in conversation and Mr. Burns... fully bewildered asked, "What is it with women and Sting?"
I don't know. He's just hot.
"Why"
He just oozes sex appeal. It can't be explained.
"I don't get it." says Mr. Burns.
Well then, I say... What is it with men and Shania Twain?
He looks at me.
"I know. " I say. "Shania Twain is smoking hot."
The other night Sting came up in conversation and Mr. Burns... fully bewildered asked, "What is it with women and Sting?"
I don't know. He's just hot.
"Why"
He just oozes sex appeal. It can't be explained.
"I don't get it." says Mr. Burns.
Well then, I say... What is it with men and Shania Twain?
He looks at me.
"I know. " I say. "Shania Twain is smoking hot."
photos from Google Images
Sunday, July 13, 2008
Sharing Beautiful Stories
Today was the baby shower for my friend Kristin who is expecting a baby in August.
The hosts of the shower asked everyone to sign and inscribe their favorite children's book and include it with their gift - rather than to include a card.
On one hand, I don't much care for gift giving instructions on invitations - but on the other hand, I had to admit it's a great idea! I'd much rather buy a book than a useless card. Some children's books are more affordable than greeting cards anyway. Most are only twice the cost!
And honestly, which would you cherish more? 20 baby shower cards or 20 incredible books - inscribed with personal messages from people who love you - that you can reflect upon every time you choose a tome to while away the hours with your child throughout the next 20 years?
Easy choice isn't it?
I was eager to share a book that I discovered in my 20s.
Simple title: You Are Special by Max Lucado
I first read it in a Christian bookstore on my lunch break. When I finished, I set the book down in tears!
It's a great message for kids - and it's also great to give to a friend who may be struggling with the way the world is treating her!
The story is about a land of wooden people called Wemmicks who live in a village where they spend each day sticking gold stars and gray dots on one another. Wemmicks get gold stars for doing things well, displaying fine talents, or looking good. They get gray dots if they do something poorly, say something silly or if their wood is scratched or paint is chipped.
One little Wemmick, Punchinello, can't seem to do anything right. He's covered in gray dots and feels badly about himself. One day he meets a Wemmick girl who has no stickers at all! When he asks her how she does it, she sends Punchinello to see the wood carver Eli.
You guessed it. Eli is Punchinello's creator. Eli explains that the stickers only stick if they matter to you. They don't matter to Eli. Eli thinks Punchinello is special no matter what everyone else thinks. Filled with this love and knowledge, Punchinello's gray dots start to fall right off!
A beautiful story about God's love.
When Kristin revealed the title, other moms all oohed and warned, "Have a tissue ready when you read that one!"
Another guest gave her a book I'd forgotten about.
The Tale of Three Trees
This is an amazing story! It's based on a beautiful Christian folklore story of three trees on a hill who had big dreams for themselves.
The first tree aspires to be a treasure chest, inlaid with gold and beautiful jewels and holding the great treasures of a king. The second dreams of becoming a mighty sailing ship carrying important people on adventures throughout the world. The third tree just wants to stand on the hill, grow as tall and beautiful as possible and point to God.
Well, the first tree becomes a feed trough. The second becomes a small fishing boat. And the third is cut down for lumber.
Imagine their disappointment. But can you imagine their true destinies?
Another beautiful tear-jerking story!
One mom said her kid's school performed a play of the Tale of Three Trees, and the teacher asked her to be the narrator. Poor woman had to practice reading it to her dog until she could deliver the story without crying!!
If you are looking for good gifts... these books come highly recommended.
photos from Amazon.com
The hosts of the shower asked everyone to sign and inscribe their favorite children's book and include it with their gift - rather than to include a card.
On one hand, I don't much care for gift giving instructions on invitations - but on the other hand, I had to admit it's a great idea! I'd much rather buy a book than a useless card. Some children's books are more affordable than greeting cards anyway. Most are only twice the cost!
And honestly, which would you cherish more? 20 baby shower cards or 20 incredible books - inscribed with personal messages from people who love you - that you can reflect upon every time you choose a tome to while away the hours with your child throughout the next 20 years?
Easy choice isn't it?
I was eager to share a book that I discovered in my 20s.
Simple title: You Are Special by Max Lucado
I first read it in a Christian bookstore on my lunch break. When I finished, I set the book down in tears!
It's a great message for kids - and it's also great to give to a friend who may be struggling with the way the world is treating her!
The story is about a land of wooden people called Wemmicks who live in a village where they spend each day sticking gold stars and gray dots on one another. Wemmicks get gold stars for doing things well, displaying fine talents, or looking good. They get gray dots if they do something poorly, say something silly or if their wood is scratched or paint is chipped.
One little Wemmick, Punchinello, can't seem to do anything right. He's covered in gray dots and feels badly about himself. One day he meets a Wemmick girl who has no stickers at all! When he asks her how she does it, she sends Punchinello to see the wood carver Eli.
You guessed it. Eli is Punchinello's creator. Eli explains that the stickers only stick if they matter to you. They don't matter to Eli. Eli thinks Punchinello is special no matter what everyone else thinks. Filled with this love and knowledge, Punchinello's gray dots start to fall right off!
A beautiful story about God's love.
When Kristin revealed the title, other moms all oohed and warned, "Have a tissue ready when you read that one!"
Another guest gave her a book I'd forgotten about.
The Tale of Three Trees
This is an amazing story! It's based on a beautiful Christian folklore story of three trees on a hill who had big dreams for themselves.
The first tree aspires to be a treasure chest, inlaid with gold and beautiful jewels and holding the great treasures of a king. The second dreams of becoming a mighty sailing ship carrying important people on adventures throughout the world. The third tree just wants to stand on the hill, grow as tall and beautiful as possible and point to God.
Well, the first tree becomes a feed trough. The second becomes a small fishing boat. And the third is cut down for lumber.
Imagine their disappointment. But can you imagine their true destinies?
Another beautiful tear-jerking story!
One mom said her kid's school performed a play of the Tale of Three Trees, and the teacher asked her to be the narrator. Poor woman had to practice reading it to her dog until she could deliver the story without crying!!
If you are looking for good gifts... these books come highly recommended.
photos from Amazon.com
Thursday, July 10, 2008
No. It Isn't Fun
My best friend got married in 2002. Oh did she look beautiful! I never saw anyone smile so broadly as she did when she came down the aisle. It was a glorious day.
In the years since then, prior to my meeting Mr. Burns… she would get so excited every time I had a date. If I actually liked the guy enough for a second date or more she would wistfully say, “Oh, I miss dating. Dating was so much fun.”
This annoyed me to no end. Dating is NOT fun.
It’s tedious.
It’s a chore.
It’s worse than a job interview except it’s supposed to be fun.
It’s a job.
It sucks.
I hate dating.
You obviously don’t remember what dating was like if you recall it as fun.
Setting yourself up for dinner and disappointment every week or two is no joy. When you are in your 30s, you rarely expect a date to go well. It’s just an exercise. Cleaning the bathtub is more rewarding than another first date.
Then I met Mr. Burns, and I finally experienced the wonder and thrill of waiting anxiously to see him again. Expecting his phone call – then hearing his voice on the other end of the line. Learning what he enjoyed. Hearing about his childhood and growing up stories. Recognizing the sound of his car alarm being armed when he parked on my street and I knew he was about to buzz my apartment. So exciting!
When I shared these little thrills with Best Friend she said, “See, I miss dating. Dating was so much fun.”
Oh. This is what you were talking about!
All this time I thought you were talking about the tedium of dating and it just ticked me off when you said that!
Yeah. Dating someone with potential is fun.
Searching through all of those men, looking for potential – sucks. Wasting an evening with a guy – who it turns out – is going to expect you to sleep with him on your next date – even though the connection between you, if any, is weak – lousy.
Over the past year and a half, I have counted how lucky I am not being out there. Mr. Burns and I would turn to each other and say. “I hate dating. I’m so glad I don’t have to do that.” Of course I was thinking “…anymore.”
I had hoped to God that I wouldn’t have to date anymore. Ever.
I know I have mentioned a couple times that I think our relationship is nearly over. I haven’t been able to actually break up just yet.
Part of it is dread that I’ll have to eventually start ‘dating’ again. Ugh.
Part of it is… as I share concerns with him – he is really trying. He’s making a real effort.
But if I don’t see that excitement of ‘having me’ of knowing that I am in his life for good and he’s thrilled by the thought of it – I have to get out. I just don’t think either of us should have to try that hard.
I just can’t bear dating again. The thought of it is worse than any pain or agony of breaking up with this wonderful man in my life
In the years since then, prior to my meeting Mr. Burns… she would get so excited every time I had a date. If I actually liked the guy enough for a second date or more she would wistfully say, “Oh, I miss dating. Dating was so much fun.”
This annoyed me to no end. Dating is NOT fun.
It’s tedious.
It’s a chore.
It’s worse than a job interview except it’s supposed to be fun.
It’s a job.
It sucks.
I hate dating.
You obviously don’t remember what dating was like if you recall it as fun.
Setting yourself up for dinner and disappointment every week or two is no joy. When you are in your 30s, you rarely expect a date to go well. It’s just an exercise. Cleaning the bathtub is more rewarding than another first date.
Then I met Mr. Burns, and I finally experienced the wonder and thrill of waiting anxiously to see him again. Expecting his phone call – then hearing his voice on the other end of the line. Learning what he enjoyed. Hearing about his childhood and growing up stories. Recognizing the sound of his car alarm being armed when he parked on my street and I knew he was about to buzz my apartment. So exciting!
When I shared these little thrills with Best Friend she said, “See, I miss dating. Dating was so much fun.”
Oh. This is what you were talking about!
All this time I thought you were talking about the tedium of dating and it just ticked me off when you said that!
Yeah. Dating someone with potential is fun.
Searching through all of those men, looking for potential – sucks. Wasting an evening with a guy – who it turns out – is going to expect you to sleep with him on your next date – even though the connection between you, if any, is weak – lousy.
Over the past year and a half, I have counted how lucky I am not being out there. Mr. Burns and I would turn to each other and say. “I hate dating. I’m so glad I don’t have to do that.” Of course I was thinking “…anymore.”
I had hoped to God that I wouldn’t have to date anymore. Ever.
I know I have mentioned a couple times that I think our relationship is nearly over. I haven’t been able to actually break up just yet.
Part of it is dread that I’ll have to eventually start ‘dating’ again. Ugh.
Part of it is… as I share concerns with him – he is really trying. He’s making a real effort.
But if I don’t see that excitement of ‘having me’ of knowing that I am in his life for good and he’s thrilled by the thought of it – I have to get out. I just don’t think either of us should have to try that hard.
I just can’t bear dating again. The thought of it is worse than any pain or agony of breaking up with this wonderful man in my life
Friday, July 04, 2008
The Buddy System
I had decided when I was 12 that I didn't want to get married before I was at least 27.
My teen years were during the Big 80s. Women had careers. Movies like Baby Boom (Diane Keaton) reinforced the career now - babies later philosophy.
That was my plan. Start the career. Know myself as an adult. Then get married and have kids.
So when I turned 27, I was stunned that the man wasn't already in the scene. I was supposed to date him for a while then get married and have my first kid by age 30.
So when I turned 30 I was really surprised there was no man at the ready.
By 35 I really started to worry. I remember telling my older cousin (old enough to be my parent) that I was worried I might not get married in time to have kids. She scoffed and said, "Well, unless you want to have a kid without a husband there's no sense wasting energy worrying about it."
Okay. So I came to terms with the thought of never having children.
That lasted about a year. Then one day the thought hit me. If I never have kids, I'll never have grandkids... and that's not OKAY! I don't want to become an old woman who has no one to come visit her in the nursing home.
More panic.
Over the years, I sort of settled into the idea that I'll just be alone. Even though I continued to pray and pray for God to make one man (any man - whoever He had in store) ready to become my husband.
Nothing.
Then I prayed from a different place in my heart. Asking God if he didn't have a husband for me - could I at least have a boyfriend?
I realized that I was still asking for something pretty special. This boyfriend would have to be a good man of faith. Someone who realized that sex is for marriage. Someone who could be ideal for a husband - even if a husband wasn't in God's plan for me.
Careful what you pray for.
The hardest part is... I had accepted that I may never get married. Never have kids.
Then I met Mr. Burns and my thinking changed. My thoughts turned to the possibility - maybe just maybe - marriage and family would be for me.
Maybe I was worthy enough to be rewarded with a family of my own.
All the while I remembered the deal I made with God. If there is no husband, a boyfriend. Please.
But then, with Mr. Burns as my boyfriend, I could picture my possible family album. A wedding. A marriage. Months of trying to concieve. Becoming a 40 year old pregnant woman! Good thing I'm still mistaken for a 29 year old! I can picture having a family. Me. A mom!
But now Mr. Burns is proving to be the boyfriend I prayed for. Not the husband. I have to be ready to let go.
Now I have to accept all over again that God wants me to be alone.
Just me and God. A pretty good team. No question.
But for a while there I really, really believed that I might just get it all.
Or at least part of what God seems so eager to hand everyone else.
What plan can He possibly have for me that requires me to be alone?
Let's not even mention the career situation. I can just barely support myself... there's no way I can adopt on my own or even be a foster parent. And I really can't see myself trying to raise a kid without the support of a loving husband.
What on Earth is His plan?!!!
My teen years were during the Big 80s. Women had careers. Movies like Baby Boom (Diane Keaton) reinforced the career now - babies later philosophy.
That was my plan. Start the career. Know myself as an adult. Then get married and have kids.
So when I turned 27, I was stunned that the man wasn't already in the scene. I was supposed to date him for a while then get married and have my first kid by age 30.
So when I turned 30 I was really surprised there was no man at the ready.
By 35 I really started to worry. I remember telling my older cousin (old enough to be my parent) that I was worried I might not get married in time to have kids. She scoffed and said, "Well, unless you want to have a kid without a husband there's no sense wasting energy worrying about it."
Okay. So I came to terms with the thought of never having children.
That lasted about a year. Then one day the thought hit me. If I never have kids, I'll never have grandkids... and that's not OKAY! I don't want to become an old woman who has no one to come visit her in the nursing home.
More panic.
Over the years, I sort of settled into the idea that I'll just be alone. Even though I continued to pray and pray for God to make one man (any man - whoever He had in store) ready to become my husband.
Nothing.
Then I prayed from a different place in my heart. Asking God if he didn't have a husband for me - could I at least have a boyfriend?
I realized that I was still asking for something pretty special. This boyfriend would have to be a good man of faith. Someone who realized that sex is for marriage. Someone who could be ideal for a husband - even if a husband wasn't in God's plan for me.
Careful what you pray for.
The hardest part is... I had accepted that I may never get married. Never have kids.
Then I met Mr. Burns and my thinking changed. My thoughts turned to the possibility - maybe just maybe - marriage and family would be for me.
Maybe I was worthy enough to be rewarded with a family of my own.
All the while I remembered the deal I made with God. If there is no husband, a boyfriend. Please.
But then, with Mr. Burns as my boyfriend, I could picture my possible family album. A wedding. A marriage. Months of trying to concieve. Becoming a 40 year old pregnant woman! Good thing I'm still mistaken for a 29 year old! I can picture having a family. Me. A mom!
But now Mr. Burns is proving to be the boyfriend I prayed for. Not the husband. I have to be ready to let go.
Now I have to accept all over again that God wants me to be alone.
Just me and God. A pretty good team. No question.
But for a while there I really, really believed that I might just get it all.
Or at least part of what God seems so eager to hand everyone else.
What plan can He possibly have for me that requires me to be alone?
Let's not even mention the career situation. I can just barely support myself... there's no way I can adopt on my own or even be a foster parent. And I really can't see myself trying to raise a kid without the support of a loving husband.
What on Earth is His plan?!!!
Tuesday, July 01, 2008
In Case of Fire
Please don't be offended if it seems like I'm talking down to you...
But do you know what to do when you hear sirens? We're all grown up drivers now - but it seems many people don't know what to do when a fire truck or ambulance is on it's way to a call.
It's easy to remember - Go Right For Sirens and Lights!
I'm bringing this up because of recent reports that Denver emergency vehicles are consistently losing 4 Minutes en route to their calls because drivers are not clearing a path.
4 minutes is life-changing! What if you were the one waiting for help?
Let's go over this again.... go right for sirens and lights.
Get in the right lane. Clear the center lane for the emergency vehicle to pass.
I live just four blocks from a fire station - and at least once a week I see an emergency vehicle trying to get through and no one is getting over!
If you are the first at a stop light... and hear sirens... unable to identify where they are coming from just yet..... stay stopped when the light turns green!!! Wait to see where the emergency vehicle needs to go so you can help to keep the path clear. If you are the first car in the left, center most lane... pull ahead past the intersection, get into the right lane and STOP! Be an example!
I figure just posting this here might be enough to get people to mention it to their friends and family and get the phrase fresh in every one's heads, no matter where you live. The life you save could be your own.
While I'm on my soapbox - does Stop - Drop and Roll ring a bell?
I've seen two videos in the last month in which some one's clothes caught fire and they ran around like maniacs.... people swatting at them but no one remembering to smother the flames.
Exhibit A if you will.... http://www.break.com/index/bride-catches-fire.html (it's a Quincenara, not a wedding ... but that doesn't matter)
A rerun of Oprah today featured a woman who was set afire by her abusive husband and while the abuse itself is horrific - one can't help but think that some of the terrible pain and recovery could have been avoided if someone around her had remembered Stop. Drop. Roll.
http://www.oprah.com/tows/pastshows/200605/tows_past_20060503.jhtml
I don't mean to make light of any one's suffering. I want so badly to ensure that more suffering might be avoided.
Get these messages in your head. In your loved one's heads. Teach your kids, your nieces and nephews.
Is this no longer being taught? And if not, why?
She steps off soapbox.
But do you know what to do when you hear sirens? We're all grown up drivers now - but it seems many people don't know what to do when a fire truck or ambulance is on it's way to a call.
It's easy to remember - Go Right For Sirens and Lights!
I'm bringing this up because of recent reports that Denver emergency vehicles are consistently losing 4 Minutes en route to their calls because drivers are not clearing a path.
4 minutes is life-changing! What if you were the one waiting for help?
Let's go over this again.... go right for sirens and lights.
Get in the right lane. Clear the center lane for the emergency vehicle to pass.
I live just four blocks from a fire station - and at least once a week I see an emergency vehicle trying to get through and no one is getting over!
If you are the first at a stop light... and hear sirens... unable to identify where they are coming from just yet..... stay stopped when the light turns green!!! Wait to see where the emergency vehicle needs to go so you can help to keep the path clear. If you are the first car in the left, center most lane... pull ahead past the intersection, get into the right lane and STOP! Be an example!
I figure just posting this here might be enough to get people to mention it to their friends and family and get the phrase fresh in every one's heads, no matter where you live. The life you save could be your own.
While I'm on my soapbox - does Stop - Drop and Roll ring a bell?
I've seen two videos in the last month in which some one's clothes caught fire and they ran around like maniacs.... people swatting at them but no one remembering to smother the flames.
Exhibit A if you will.... http://www.break.com/index/bride-catches-fire.html (it's a Quincenara, not a wedding ... but that doesn't matter)
A rerun of Oprah today featured a woman who was set afire by her abusive husband and while the abuse itself is horrific - one can't help but think that some of the terrible pain and recovery could have been avoided if someone around her had remembered Stop. Drop. Roll.
http://www.oprah.com/tows/pastshows/200605/tows_past_20060503.jhtml
I don't mean to make light of any one's suffering. I want so badly to ensure that more suffering might be avoided.
Get these messages in your head. In your loved one's heads. Teach your kids, your nieces and nephews.
Is this no longer being taught? And if not, why?
She steps off soapbox.
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