Best Mom in the World!

I got a card from my parents the day after my birthday.

Mom told me that she had it all set to go to arrive on my birthday - Dad was supposed to mail it while she was at work.
Turns out, Dad set it on top of the fridge when he stopped to put his shoes on, then forgot that he was headed to the mailbox in the first place!

It's hilarious how they tattle on each other!

So I knew the card would be a day late - but imagine my surprise when I open the card and out falls a check for the full amount of the cost of the photography class I told mom I wanted to take!! They are so sweet!

I also want to share the card with you all.
It's sweet, and a good reminder for all of us... or if you have children - these are great lessons to raise them on.

Daughter,
Ten Things To Keep In Mind
(to make your life better)

1) Trust Your Instincts.
If it doesn't feel right, it probably isn't... fun, tempting... maybe, but not right.
2) Remember Your Manners.
It doesn't cost you anything, but it speaks volumes about who you are. Having class starts with this.
3) Never let possessions "OWN" you.
It's just stuff! The most valuable things in life - friends, respect, love, knowledge - don't cost money... Hokey but true.
4) Nurture your friendships.
The investment you make in true friends will pay huge dividends all your life - remember, you can't make an old friend.
5) Keep your hands clean.
This means both literally and figuratively... it will save you a lot of regrets later.
6) Believe in yourself.
Yeah this is another hokey one, but you do happen to be the only you in existence, and you're also the only person in the world who can truly hold you back in life... Think about it.
7) Be grateful.
Don't waste all your todays in anticipation of some grand tomorrow. Now is all we've got. Live in it!
8) Treat others the way you want to be treated.
(okay, so I didn't make this one up.) The point is, just because you're smarter or richer or prettier than someone else doesn't mean you're better. It just means you've been more blessed.
9) Always keep playing.
Who says adults have to give up toys? Keep the little kid inside you alive... it keeps your imagination primed. Silly is good.
10) No matter what, you will always be loved.
You don't have to test this one... Just carry it around in your back pocket, and know that, no matter what, you can always come home.

If you can only remember one - Remember that you are loved.

It's My Birthday!

I'm old.

and still single... just as the title of my blog suggests.
Start the annoying music!


Update:

So fun when various friends call all day to extend warm birthday greetings! Two of them always sing me Happy Birthday over the phone! I love that!

Then Mr. Burns came to take me out to dinner. He arrived with a bouquet of beautiful orange tulips (my favorite!)











and a neatly wrapped gift. ( I love that he can actually wrap gifts by himself and they look nice. A lot of men can't do that!) The gift was a card for a 50 minute Warm Stone Massage! Ahhhhhhh. What a man!

The man listens. My back has been really screwy lately and I've mentioned how badly I need a massage but can't really afford one given my state of employment. That's not only a generous but very thoughtful gift!

Then we went out to dinner at my favorite little Indian place... Mmmmmm! After that, as I requested, we went out for Gelato for dessert. I had a scoop each of Pomegranate and Strawberry Rhubarb. MmmmMMMmmmmMMMMmmmmm! Mr. Burns had Chocolate. Probably some sort of double chocolate mocha overdose concoction!

and now... I'm just sick. As I was tinkering with my camera's memory card trying to get a decent picture of my flowers - I accidentally wiped out the last 30 pictures of my dad's birthday party. The pictures of Mom and Dad with all the grand kids... and of Mom and Dad with me and my brother. And - the ones where Dad was dancing with my Sis-in-law and their neighbor.
How cute he looked in his cowboy hat and suspenders dancing like a fool!
Woe is me! I'm just sick about it. Wahhh.

Believable

I've been officially unemployed for the past nine months. My contract ended and the company saw a downturn. No contracts available. The company that had around 200 people working hell bent for leather last year, is now down to about 30 employees. Scary.

So, to the drama of looking for a job that meets my skills and experience - add 170 other people in town with the same specialized skills competing for the same jobs.
On the rare occasion that I get an interview, the people at the prospective company express their condolences for my past position. They know all about the company and in fact, just interviewed 8 people who have that company listed on their resume as well.

Don't expect a call.

I've been working at a part-time minimum wage job since then. Through Divine intervention, I've been able to meet my mortgage payment.

All the jobs I'm targeting seem to want current skills - technologies that weren't even around when my 1992 Bachelor's Degree was issued. Because I was steadily employed, there was no need to learn those new whiz-bang programs. They weren't even necessary in my job.

Here I am in the dust.

During this trying time I have rediscovered my love for photography. It was my first love, but I got distracted by moving pictures and sound and now I'm at the end of that career. Never made any money at it anyway.

People seem to like my photography. And at the part-time job at the portrait studio... I've learned a few tricks for baby pictures and family portraits. More importantly, I've discovered that my personality works very well to coax the best smiles and make parents happy.

I think I'm ready to take a photography class.

I've always been a natural at composition but I need some help learning the technical side. Once I'm armed with that knowledge I'd like to take my show on the road.

It's risky. There's tons of competition. I can't afford to start a studio. Can I run my own business? Scary.

Last night I shared all these concerns with my mom. My desire to strike out on my own. My fear of going to school. (I hate school) Half expecting her to say... "Can't you find a job doing _______ for _______? "

Instead she said, "I think you'd be good at that. You should try it."

You don't think I'm crazy?

"No. I believe in you."

Blink back tears.

"You've always been a hard worker. You've always done well at everything you set your mind to do. I believe in you. I always have."

Choke back tears.

It is one thing to know that your parents support you and believe in you.
It is another entirely to hear them say it aloud. With words. It's so amazing. It is in some way like hearing the voice of God reassuring you that you are on the right path.

That is one of the things I really love about my parents. They never ever even suggested that there was something I couldn't do. That something might be out of reach.
I've always been far more aware of my limits or possible limits than they have.
That is an incredible thing to be able to do for your child. To present the world as a wide open possibility.

Maybe part of that comes from their farm background. You just have to trust that you are doing the right thing with the resources you have and God will provide. They took risks, buying or selling livestock, trying a new crop, buying more land. It was all a risk but they must have always believed it would go well. And it did.

My parents are amazing.
And guess what? I'm believable.

You Gotta be Smarter Than the Box

I'm not a huge fan of most chain restaurants - I'm rarely impressed. I tend to seek out locally owned, original bistros if I have a choice.

But tonight, Mr. Burns was actually in town (He's been working on the road a lot lately) and he picked Austin's and I figured, "Meat" which was all I wanted so off we went to Austin's.

One of today's specials was a pork tenderloin with an apricot sauce or glaze. It's pretty hard to screw up pork and I love me some pig so picture a happy me.

It was all SOOOO good I couldn't believe it.

There were also plenty for leftovers which made me crazy happy. Once the waiter brought me a take-home box I told Mr. Burns, "I'm debating between finishing my mashed potatoes or saving them to take home." Ever the gentleman, Mr. Burns pointed out that he wasn't going to finish his potatoes so I had the best of both worlds! Eat his potatoes and save mine for later!

I quickly scooped my food remains in the take out box, eyeing Mr. Burns plate as if I were still starving.

The takeout box wasn't cooperating. The lid had a goofy little hinge that wouldn't line up properly - so I fumbled trying to close it. Still eyeing Mr. Burns' potatoes - I gave up and handed him the box to close so I could wolf down the last yummy morsel.

As he swiftly managed the closure, I looked at him and said, "I was bested by the box, baby."

He cracked up and said, "Some guys complain about girls who are dumber than a box of rocks. My girlfriend is dumber than the box!"

Um. Let's clarify. It's not a matter of stupidity! It's a matter of patience!

Letting Strangers Run Your House?

We had a lovely brunch at my church this Sunday and I got to see many lovely friends that I rarely see these days.

During our visit, conversation turned to the prospect of renting out their homes to out-of-towners for the Democratic National Convention here in August. One couple said they had considered it and landed on: No!

Mr. Burns turned to me and said, "Baby, I could put you up for a month if you wanted to rent your place for the DNC. You should think about it."

If it hasn't been made clear on this blog - I am - for the first time since college - hard up for money. I haven't had a full-time job for 9 months and my job search is simply depressing. I've been thinking of going back to school. I always hated school.

So the idea of making ... what $3000 or so? - above a monthly mortgage payment for one month doesn't sound so bad. I checked out the DNC Lodging website today : http://www.democraticconventionhousing.com/

Do you think I:













(minus the snow of course) 700 sq ft, one bedroom, 3rd floor walk up. Only amenities a coin-op laundry room and use of the courtyard with BBQ Grill.

can compete with this?

Full amenities, swimming pools, fitness centers, yadda yadda yadda...

Even if I could - it would mean moving out some valuables (not many) clearing out a closet, and praying that these temporary renters don't ding my beautiful credenza or soil my beloved white carpet.

Would you do it?

Found It!

I found my missing ring!

After scouring my (messy) apartment for a day and a half - I found it on my dining room table - under Mr. Burns' car keys.

( I was holding them for him while he was out of town.)

Clearly, if my apartment had looked like this:

at the time... it wouldn't have been missing.

Working hard this weekend to make it look like this again!!

Plain Brown Wrapper

Mr. Burns and I are embarking in a tough time in our relationship.

Collectively, we don't know if there is a future. At the beginning, I was sure I'd finally found my man. But after a year of his uncertainty - now I too am unsure. From where I stand, it seems to come down to his inability to determine whether or not he is in love. He says he's never been there before - and I think that is the root of his problem.

I read a relationship book that I borrowed from a friend. Like most relationship books, it wasn't a whole lot of anything you hadn't figured out on your own if your eyes were open - but still good to remind you, "Ah yes, this is what works and what doesn't and why." So it is helpful from that standpoint.

Upon finishing, I asked Mr. Burns to read it. I thought it would open up some discussions.
At first he asked when he possibly had time to read it.
I apologized for the purple, cursive, flowery cover.
Then I offered to make a plain book cover for it. He laughed.
I actually did cut down a brown paper grocery bag - fashioned a cover like the ones we made in school - then wrote on the front "Plain Brown Wrapper".

I teased him that I would write, "Porn" on the cover so that he could carry it confidently in the airport. Ha! *

Well, when he landed the first day of his trip he told me he was three chapters in. He even pointed out the biggest concern that I shared from those first chapters.
This is progress! I thought. I was so pleased that he was willing to read the book. It seemed like a good step considering the let-down surrounding my visit home (see post below)

I picked Mr. Burns up from the airport last night. He started a conversation about the issues in the book! Wow!
He also said he wanted to finish the last few chapters.

Dear Lord, I was right. I knew if we could land on a common language to speak - we might get somewhere. He's better able to see things from my perspective. And in all fairness... I need to learn to see his perspective, but I need his help to show me. That too is where the book is helping.

Now I'm not saying this is some sort of magic book. All I'm saying is... beginning with our great ability and desire to communicate openly - and then adding a common language and topics to discuss - there is progress.
Most of all, I am touched by his willingness to both read the book, (how many guys would groan about THAT?!) and to discuss it. Yay.


* please do not infer in any way that I condone porn. Mr. Burns also, would never read or engage in porn. That is part of the joke.

Where can it be?

Every night before bed I take off my wrist watch and a little garnet ring and put them in a pewter dish. Like my habit with my keys, they never land anywhere else. Ever.

Last night I fell asleep in the living room. I woke up around 3:00 am on the living room floor! (I wasn't drunk or anything!) It took every fiber of my being to get myself up and put myself to bed. I have no idea why.

I know I didn't even stop in the bathroom to wash my face or brush my teeth!
I remember waking at some point in the early morning to take off my wrist watch as it was uncomfortable. I found it right next to me on the nightstand this morning.

Mysteriously, I cannot find my ring.

I don't remember taking it off. I thought maybe I'd find it between the sheets of my bed - indicating that I took it off sometime before the watch - but it's not there. I even emptied out the drawers of my nightstand and searched under my bed with a flashlight hoping for a glimmer of silver. Nothing.

In the living room, I ran my fingers over my shag rug. I looked under the cushions of the couch. I checked inside the medicine cabinet in the bathroom - in case I took it off while I brushed my teeth which I don't remember doing.

It's not valuable. It's just a simple little ring that I bought for $7 ten years ago. I wear it on my right hand, ring finger. It's not even special.
I'm not much of a jewlery person - it just so happens that this is the only ring I've ever had that hasn't lost a stone, tarnished or gotten lost - until now.
It's the only ring that I think looks decent on my hands that hasn't lost a stone, tarnished or gotten lost - until now.

No. It's not valuable. But for ten years I've recieved countless compliments on it's simple beauty. And my right hand feels naked without it.
Maybe it is special.

Not in MY House

As we were driving to Mr. Burns' favorite Chinese Restaurant last night, we found ourselves behind a small pickup truck.

Its' tiny cargo bed was laden with a huge big screen TV. Mind you, not a nice new large flatscreen - no - one of those big boxy TVs, taller than I - nearly as wide and deep as it is tall.
The kind that is like having a queen size bed standing on end in your living room.

I turned to Mr. Burns and said, "Somewhere, a few blocks away you just know there's a woman standing in the doorway saying 'That thing is NOT coming inside this house!' "

Rough Ride

I've had the same mountain bike for 17 years. The entire time, I've only ridden it on city streets and paved bike trails.


Today, I took the baby to a mountain for the first time!!

I am so terribly out of shape. I pushed my bike up the trails most of the way. Mr. Burns is much stronger and would ride ahead a bit, then wait for me to catch up with my bike. On the positive side, pushing my bike made it a full body workout rather than just cardio and legs!


I've never ridden single track before and the trails are narrow (about a foot to 18 inches wide) and many rocks.
This picture may be a bit deceiving - there is a lot of gradual incline/ switchbacks to get up - and much wide open, flat area on the mesa.


At the top, where I didn't have to fight with incline, it was a bit easier to navigate. Mr. Burns would shout back about how fun the trail was. I was still nervous about the terrain and yelled, "This is dangerous and hurty!"

When we leveled out I had much more fun - riding fast, flying over bumps and rocks and proving to myself that I could control my bike.

(I'm still a bit gun-shy since the great bike crash of 2004)


When we finally rode back down my bravery kicked in and the rocks didn't seem like such big obstacles. Although I was a little afraid of the narrow tracks combined with speed. I was afraid I would bounce right out of a track (I use the term: rut) and end up crashing.


Mr. Burns rode ahead, and on one significant hill I found myself faced with a jackknifed front tire. It had bounced out of the track and I was airborne. As I flew over the handle bars I said aloud, "Yep, just like that..." that's what I was afraid of.

Not a bad crash.
Mr. Burns was already over the next hill and out of sight. I sat in the brush for a bit and called for him twice before I realized he was out of earshot. Finally, I pulled myself to my feet and mounted my bike again. It was a little screwed up - so I had to push it to meet Mr. Burns. When I finally saw him, I told him I needed help with the bike - kinda proud of my injury free crash.


Here's to firsts! It was scary, but it was fun.

I think brush is more forgiving than concrete. And I think my bike finally feels a bit sexy - having fulfilled the destiny of being called a Mountain Bike!

What a Chore

I can't think of many things I hate more than washing dishes.

I hate it so much that I usually wait til there is nothing left to eat from - before resorting to doing dishes. At this point I should tell you that I don't have a dishwasher. Not since four apartments ago.

The one person who shares my hatred for the task of dishwashing is my friend Kimberly. We love and hate most of the same things. That's a true friend!
We both love older buildings, so we both end up in tiny little apartments with no dishwasher.

A couple years ago I made the rare journey out to visit her in San Francisco. Her apartment was so cute... with a tiny little kitchen so small you could almost work all the appliances from one standing position - just turn yourself around! Her kitchen was decorated so cute, with deep red paint on the walls - matching dishes arranged just so on the open shelving. And a small pile of dishes in the sink. As she gave me a little tour of her apartment she apologized for the mess in the sink and mentioned what a hard time she was having getting around to doing the dishes.

When she excused herself to go take a shower, I decided to fill the sink with water and clear up the dishes. Somehow, the work you hate the most is not only less dreadful, but bearable when you do it for someone you love.

When she returned to the kitchen, I tried to hide my smug expression as she surveyed her empty sink.
"Did you wash my dishes? You are not allowed to wash my dishes. No." she said sternly, as if scolding a dog with a favorite sandal in it's mouth.
Then she hugged me warmly as she said, "Thank you. That is the nicest thing you could have done for me. Just don't do it again."

Alone. Again. As Always

It's nearly a ten hour drive from Denver to my parent’s home. That's including gas stops, potty breaks and naps. My sister in law claims she drove it in eight hours. But she had her whole family for company. Such a long drive with no conversation, no company – well – it’s hard to stay awake. So for my own sanity and for the safety of everyone else on the interstate, I usually stop for a 20 minute nap around halfway through the drive.

That's why, when I came back from a visit last summer I told Mr. Burns that I was never making that trip again alone. From now on I expect him to be with me.

When my brother planned the big surprise party for dad's birthday I was so excited that this would be the first trip back with Mr. Burns at my side. It would be a great opportunity to finally introduce him to my parents. And because many of our relatives would be there, he'd meet everyone important to me!

Shortly after we set the plans for the party, Mr. Burns got a finalized schedule for his work travel schedule. It overlapped dad's party. Mr. Burns couldn’t go.

At the same time, the travel schedule put him 5 hours North of my parent's town. If he was done with the work assignment by Saturday, it was conceivable that he could rent a car and drive down. Then we could drive back to Denver together.

We talked about it as I was driving and finally about three hours from my destination. At that point he knew he would be off on Saturday. His field work is exhausting. Even when he gets to fly home, he's a pile of mush just yearning for his own bed. I didn’t really want him to have to drive 5 hours in that condition. Moreover, if he's worn down it's not the optimal circumstance to introduce him to my folks and then subject him to a crowd of 70 strangers.

He also made a crack that he considered surprising me anyway, but that I ruined it by discussing it. Ha ha. For the rest of my drive I thought about it some more. A woman with hours of free thought is a dangerous thing.

Early in our relationship I had told him that, judging by the successful marriages I knew of, the key is for the man to know that he’s found the woman he wants and fight for her. I told him that a man has to convince a woman that he knows without a doubt that she is the woman for him. Sometimes it comes down to the ‘Grand Gesture’.
Mr. Burns took that to heart and has since expressed concern that he doesn’t believe he’s doing that with me. That he hasn't done a lot of convincing. And sadly, it's true. But that's another story.

Anyway, as I drove the final few hours of my journey I thought, "If he leaves in the morning he could get to my folks house by noon or 1:00. I could introduce him to mom and dad and then he could take a good nap and be ready for the party at 5:00. Yeah. That would work. Is it asking too much? Well, I would do it for him. It’s no small favor. It would definitely be a 'grand gesture.'" Now I was convinced that this was the way it should go. I tried to call him that night but he was still on site at work. I couldn’t reach him, so I built a fantasy in my head where he was planning to rent a car and surprise me.

We missed each other's phone calls until Saturday morning when he called to tell me he had just landed in Denver. "Oh. So much for my fantasy." I told him.

Mom and I ran around getting balloons and cake and other goodies for the party. At 5:00 we were poised for the surprise. I spent the evening talking to relatives I only see at weddings and funerals. They all asked about my job (I don’t have one) and about my boyfriend (he’s not here) and I found myself in the uncomfortable position of being alone. again. as always. Damn. I’m almost 38 and I think I’ve finally found the man for me and here I am at a big event alone. It was very similar to the horror and overwhelming solitude that I felt attending dozens of weddings without a date. Excruciating. (thank God I can arm myself with my camera - it is both a conversation starter and an escape clause.)

Then I had another 10 hour drive back to Denver. More thinking.

Did I expect too much. No. I don’t think so. When his dad died last summer, I told him I would catch the next plane out to the east coast to be by his side if he wanted me there. He didn't. He didn’t think it would be a great time to introduce me to his huge family while they were grieving. What if they forever associated me with the saddest day of their lives?

Thanksgiving was the first holiday without his dad so he didn’t want to introduce me to his family then – so I stayed home. Christmas we both stayed in Denver. Finally, I went with him to his friend’s wedding in Atlanta. With all this time to think it’s becoming clearer and clearer that he’s holding me at arm’s length.

When I finally saw him again, Monday night I told him that I really needed him there with me at dad’s party. I am so done being alone. He said he was sorry he didn’t come.

What now? Am I alone in this relationship? It certainly feels that way.

That's Not the Way I do it.

One of the top things on my pull-my-hair-out-before-I-resort-to list is moving my computer desk to access the many plugs and adapters on the back of my computer tower.

The reason:
I converted a good-sized closet into a small 'office' so that my desk didn't have to reside in my living room or bedroom. As a result, moving the desk is a major undertaking. It causes me undo stress. Just ask my friend Ben or Mr. Burns for that matter.


Today, as I was tinkering around on the Internet, I noticed that I wasn't getting audio when I clicked a couple different video links. I checked out my speakers and they were on - up - and otherwise functioning.

Mr. Burns used my computer yesterday to finish up some homework - and he remarked that the line to the mouse was too taut - so I figured he might have pulled the plug to the speaker out when he was pulling on the mouse cord.

Sigh.

So I pulled my hair out then resorted to pulling my desk out of it's alcove. While I was mid-way through this endeavor my phone rang with Mr. Burn's familiar pre-programmed ringtone - or as he calls it the Pavlovian signal! When he asked what I was up to I told him, "I'm doing the unspeakable." then explained my theory that the speaker plug pulled out and I was moving my desk to plug it back in.

He knew that wasn't a good sign!

Once I had a clear view of the back of the tower - it was clear that the plug was still in place. Hmm. I muttered, "I guess those speakers are pretty old. Maybe they're dead."

"Oh." said Mr. Burns. "You know what it is? I turned your speakers to MUTE while I was there. Sorry I didn't tell you."

WTH? Who does that?! I never click through the countless little gidgets all over the computer to find the one dinky feature that does what I can do with my finger - turn the volume down! Or switch the speakers off! What?!

Clearly, Mr. Burns approaches things differently than I. For him it's perfectly natural to scroll through a list of a million different features to find one little button.

I, on the other hand, skip all those steps and go straight to the horse's mouth and flip the actual - tangible button! Yes I know I'm mixing metaphors!

Oh - he owes me for making me resort to the unspeakable!

FYI - the reason I pull my desk out rather than pull the computer tower out of it's slot - is because I have all the cords in back neatly arranged and 3M'd (is that a term?) to the back of the desk. That way the cords don't tangle and the dust bunnies have to be orderly back there. As a result there is no slack in the cords to pull the tower forward.

Mr. Burns learned this the hard way. Last year for my birthday he bought me memory for my computer. Installing it was also the gift. He grumbled and swore a little bit as he tried to pull the tower forward. I said, "I usually pull the desk out and access it from behind." Thinking that was enough information to get him to change his tack.

He continued to pull it out the front kvetching and moaning all the way. I got increasingly irritated.

Finally after it was all over and he was sufficiently P.O'd I said, "That's why I move the desk out. The cords are all tethered on the back of the desk."

And that's how couples learn to communicate!!

Come to think of it... that's why the mouse cord was too taut. Because he pulled it out of it's carefully arranged 3M position when he installed the memory. I fixed that while I was back there too.

I could have danced all night...

Mr. Burns and I just returned from his friend's wedding down South.

Oh... I was so envious to see all the green trees and beautiful blooms! Denver has taken forever to green up. Finally upon return, the trees are now budding and blooming. Yay! Although I'm still waiting for the lilacs to come around.

Anyway, back to the wedding. It was so great to take another trip with Mr. Burns. He's been working out of town a lot lately, and if I hadn't been able to go to the wedding with him, I would not have seen him for three weeks straight! Boo hoo.

Plus, the wedding was a full Catholic Mass. It was really nice to sit with my beloved and soak up the nuptials that I hope will bind and/or bond me to him someday. No one is holding their breath!

The reception was at a nearby country club so Mr. Burns was content in soaking up the surrounding golf greens!

It should be noted that Mr. Burns is a very good dancer. He's good at everything he tries in an athletic sense. He once revealed that he took some dance lessons years ago, just so he would know what he was doing on the dance floor. As is his nature - he held all the information and is good at it. An area where we are not similar!!!

I can't make out rhythm. People tell me to listen for the beat or the count and I just can't do it.

I recall my music appreciation class in college - one of those classes everyone takes for an easy A. The instructor one day, played a piece of classical music and asked us to identify the instruments we could hear. Now I can make out a piano or a guitar - so imagine my surprise when one student said, "I hear an Oboe." BS! I thought, "You don't hear an Oboe. You might hear a horn but don't tell me you can hear that it's a freaking Oboe." Well apparently other people can. Sigh. I can say that's horn or those are strings - but mostly I hear the entire song -not the pieces that make up the song.

So anyway -that's what I blame for my inability to dance. Now, if someone teaches me steps, I'll get it, but I haven't had lessons since college so I pretty much stink.

Mr. Burns says that the man's job on the dance floor is to make the woman look good. If he's doing his job, no one should notice him. He's also incredibly patient - and I started to remember some of the moves from my swing dance days in college.

Better still, I picked out yet another new dress - this one with a twirly skirt that must have moved gracefully as he spun and dipped me - disguising the fact that my feet didn't know what they were doing!!

That and the fact that the cheerful, vibrant Granny Smith Apple Green hue of my dress was bright and attention grabbing - Mr. Burns said that every time we danced - at least two cameras were on us!

Well, that's a bit embarrassing! I hope there are more pictures of the bride dancing than of me dancing!! Maybe the color is too bold for a wedding - but I try not to wear black or red to a wedding - and because this color reminds me distinctly of a tulip stem - the prettiest color on Earth - I couldn't resist it.

I had so much fun dancing with Mr. Burns. It was romantic. As he turned me around the dance floor, I fell in love with him a little bit more. In his arms, he guided me, twirled me and thrilled me with dips and spins and turns. I hope we have a lifetime of learning how to move together as one.

Deserving

I was in Ulta the other day, and as I was ready to pay for my purchase "Suddenly I See" by KT Tunstall started to play.

The music is peppy and gets my attention right away. The line, "Everything around her is a silver pool of light - the people who surround her feel the benefit of it - it makes you calm - she holds you captivated in her palm." Always reminds me of my friend Kimberly.

I couldn't help but sing along a little, and because I was smiling broadly with thoughts of my dear friend - the cashier looked at me inquisitively. So I offered the information of what the song means to me... then the refrain with that line was up again... I sort of recited it for her.

The cashier smiled and said, "She must be a wonderful friend."
"She is." said I. "I am blessed with many wonderful friends. I don't know how I deserve them."

And this is when people surprise you - This cute little college-student cashier, wise beyond her years said, "Oh, I'm sure you do deserve them. You must be a wonderful friend to have such wonderful friends."

What a note of cheer for the rest of my day!

Spreading Cheer, One Grump at a Time!

I was just visiting Rocksinmydryer – and read about her very bad day. Someone broke into her car and stole her purse. She was dealing with police and canceling credit cards and on the verge of tears when a woman, observing from across the parking lot came up and offered her flowers! How very sweet! An angel in disquise! It reminded me of an experience I’ve been meaning to share here for some time….

In my last job, I traveled all over the country to interview people about their homes. Pretty sweet job for someone who loves houses and architecture!

Most of the homeowners were so very sweet and thoughtful.
On one trip in particular, I remember arriving at my hotel, greeted by a bouquet of cheerful wildflowers native to the area. A welcome present from the homeowner I was to interview the next day.

Sadly though, my photographer and I had to travel in the dark from the last shoot – we arrived after dinner and just before bedtime. We had to wake up early for the next days’ shoot so there wasn’t much time to enjoy the flowers. When I packed up my bags in the morning, I brought the vase out to the rental car and propped it in one of the cup-holders. The flowers sat graciously in the car while we spent 10 hours shooting in the home of the woman who arranged them for me.

Then, just before dark, we set off in the car to the nearest town with an airport to fly out the next morning. So I enjoyed the flowers for maybe three hours.

Knowing I couldn’t possibly take them on the plane, it pained me to think of tossing them. So as we drove, I mentioned to my photographer that it would be nice if we could stop by a nursing home and drop them off for someone who needed the cheering up. I would ask the desk to give them to someone who doesn’t get many visitors.

But it would be late when we arrived to check in to the hotel, and we still had to eat. Driving around looking for a worthy recipient didn’t really fit into the schedule – we had to catch an early flight in the morning.

Oh well.

We went into a franchise restaurant for a late dinner. After we ordered, but were still waiting for our food, I noticed a woman with her elderly mother. They seemed to be having a strained conversation. We couldn’t hear, but it was clear it wasn’t a casual conversation. Not stressful, not fighting. They were just talking about something difficult. Maybe they were discussing a sick relative or something.

Well there you go. They could use flowers. I thought. I asked my photographer friend if it would be too weird to get the flowers out of the truck and offer them to the ladies. He thought it was a nice idea.

So I took the keys and dashed out to the car. I was a little nervous as I approached their table. I explained, "I’m visiting from out of town, and was given these flowers. I can’t take them on the plane and I’d really like for someone to enjoy them. Would you like them?"

"No."

Really? Who doesn’t want flowers? Maybe they didn’t appreciate the interruption. Maybe they were so caught up in their problems that they didn’t recognize the kindness I was trying to offer them. I was bewildered. Not even "No, thank you." Just "No."

I went back to our table with the flowers. My photographer friend tried to hold back his smirk and said, "Oooh. Shot down!"

Seriously. I wasn't a pimply kid asking out the prom queen, but suddenly I understood what that kid felt like!

Most of all, I felt sad for the two ladies who didn't embrace the kind offer. It was really sad.

In the end, we offered them to the restaurant manager who in turn gave them to one of his waitresses. So at least they didn’t go to waste.

I’m still stunned when I think about someone rejecting flowers!

They'll Take My Generation X Card Away

I’ve never seen a single episode of Star Wars in it's entirity.

Despite the fact that I had a Princess Leah Barbie doll. Yeah, I took the buns out of her hair and never got them back in.

When people learn this about me, they are stunned. They ask how this is possible. They’ve threatened to release me from Generation X, especially after the two new ‘first’ episodes hit theaters.

I had to think about it, and here’s the answer:
The first Star Wars movie was released in what 1977? My parents didn’t really take us to movies. I saw maybe 5 movies in a theatre before I was 16 years old. On top of that, we lived in the country and didn’t have access to cable television, which is how most people saw certain movies 5 to 10 times before the advent of VCRs. My parents didn’t get a VCR until I was in college. By then, catching up on Star Wars required dedicating 8 hours of my life to watch what amounts to an old movie.

Mr. Burns learned all of this last weekend. We both bemoan the fact that there is never anything good on TV despite the 400 some channels he has to choose from with his satellite service. (is anyone surprised that I don’t even have cable?!) We were flipping through the channels and he landed on the middle of the first new Star Wars episode. Episode One I presume. He wanted to watch it. That led to revealing all the information that I have just shared with you.

Okay. So we pick up right about where Anakin’s mother dies. The next thing I know, there is a battle that never ends. If at some point the good guys appear to be making progress, more droids enter the battlefield. Droids that aren’t even remotely similar to the first ones seemingly assigned to the battle. This doesn’t seem fair. You can’t challenge someone to a fight and then keep replacing the foes they manage to defeat. More importantly, this means that the battle never ends. Boring! How interesting is it to watch the same fight for 40 minutes?

I started shifting in my seat. Now, I work in television, and I have been responsible for the production end of a number of shows. I start thinking… there had to be a point where George Lucas and the film editor thought; “This is getting long. Tedious even. Maybe we need to shorten the battle scene.” And they choose not to!

I thought, this is about as interesting as watching some on screen couple kiss – nothing else – just kiss - for 2 two hours. Fun for them, but not really interesting for anyone else.

I finally got up and told Mr. Burns that I was going to the other room to count the hairs on my arms, just for the change of pace.

The Big Scare

I just want to throw a (sarcastic) giant thank you out into the universe to the moron who tried to kill me today.

I was driving up Colorado Boulevard (Northbound, just before the I-25 split) when suddenly this beige/bronze CRV nearly sideswiped me! I slammed the breaks and steered to the right.

I was in the center right lane, Stupid-face CRV was in the center left. But here's the thing... he wasn't right next to me... no ... that might mean that I could have been in his blind spot. (not that that's an excuse... move your heads people!!) Oh no. He was overtaking me, meaning he was passing in the left lane. There's no reason he shouldn't have known I was there. Essentially I was IN FRONT OF HIM. Freaking moron! Darn near killed me.

It was the scariest thing I've experienced in a while.

But I want to say thanks because... I had been feeling so good.
After a year of expensive deep tissue massage and chiropractic adjustments I was begining to feel like a normal healthy human being.
My neck wasn't hurting and my back was feeling great. Thank you so much for locking up my spine. Just tell me where to send the Chiropractic bill you cheese head.

Ugh. I watched as he moved along in traffic. He's one of those creeps who needs to move over 4 lanes in the span of a block because he can't plan ahead.

Matched Souls

Oh. my. word! I can't believe it!

I just met my new neighbor. She's outside with the movers right now.
As she walked over to greet me I thought, "She looks a little like my friend Kimberly."

Well, she doesn't look entirely like Kimberly, just enough to put her in my head. But then she started talking! And I almost started to cry.

She says things like, "The building? I love, love, love it! So so cute!"

When she opened her mouth I couldn't stop myself from hugging her because she made me miss Kimberly (who is far away from me in San Francisco) so much!!
Here I am. A perfect stranger, suddenly attached to her neck!
She must think I'm crazy!!
Funny thing is... she totally accepted the hug and hugged back!

I'm a FREAK!!

Funnier still. Guess how I met Kimberly? When she was moving in across the hall from me.
We were neighbors for 2-3 months before I moved about a mile away. We rarely saw each other until she decided to up and move to Seattle a few months (like 6-9 months) later.
So we are long distance friends - soul mates - sisters all because we shared a hallway for 3 months!

UPDATE: This is great... Kimberly's response to the incident:

HAHAHAHAHA! Awesome!
Now I need my own personal TRS-clone HERE. Fair is fair!
K

Learn to Ski

Okay. I've been telling some of my friends about my experience skiing with Mr. Burns and teaching my niece to advance past her ski lesson.

The reaction I got from at least two friends was that their ski adventures didn't go as well. They learned to ski with their boyfriends at the time and as a result they find it terrifying and absolutely no fun.

This is very sad to me.

My advice to everyone who wants to try skiing for the first time. GET A LESSON!

Do not count on your friends to teach you. Not only is it very likely that they will fail - if they even attempt more than just getting you on a lift - no one will enjoy the experience.

Below is my table listing reasons why to spring for a lesson.

The fact is, paying for a lesson will add between $20 and $40 to your ski day. It is well worth it.

My friends (and my brother) who decided to forego lessons in favor of skiing with their friends... had terrible experiences.

Skiing is supposed to be fun.

My brother was forced to keep up with his advanced friends. He couldn't possibly. Turned out, they went down the same run 3 or 4 times passing him each time as he struggled his way down the slope. Not cool.

My girlfriends never got past learning to snow plow. That is not fun.

I'll bet you wads of cash that those boyfriends grew tired real quick of spending time on remedial skills. After an hour of that - they went off to have fun.

The girls in turn, didn't want to be left out - so they busted their buns to keep up on advanced slopes that were way beyond their skill level. They had to be freakin' sore, exhausted and most likely, less enamored with their boyfriend (and the sport) at the end of the day.

My boyfriend and I took my niece under our wings the day after her first lesson. She was showing great instincts and skills so we just skied slowly and gave her pointers.

It helped that I love my niece tremendously and would never abandon her.

And that Mr. Burns had already had his fill of skiing for the season and didn't mind puttering down a hill with a teenager, teaching her how to get back up after falls - and encouraging her to turn and take on inclines that he was confident she could handle... even if she doubted her skill.

Bottom line: If you're planning a trip with folks who don't live in mountains... and this is their one chance to ski each year... trust me, they don't want to waste their trip teaching someone how to ski.

Don't take it personally. In fact, if your friend recommends your taking a lesson rather than them teaching you... it means they love you and want you to stick around.

You'll be happier if you take a group lesson.

My tip for the day!