I recently got a ticket on my street -- they have street cleaning here in Denver, where they choose to give you some "3rd Thursday" or "4th Tuesday" to move your car off the street, so they can allegedly clean it -- if you don't you get a parking ticket. Well, I've been taking the bus to work, and as usual not paying attention to whether it was the 4th Tuesday Of The Month, so I didn't notice the ticket on my car. But of course I got the envelope, so now I have to pay it. I figured a letter to the City with a little humor would help, so here's what I wrote:
August 29, 2005
City & County of Denver
PO Box 46502
Denver, CO 80201-6502
Dear Sir/Madam:
I recently found this enclosed envelope in the door of my car. There is no citation inside, but given the fact that I was parked in front of my house at 123 Main Street on street cleaning day August 23, I probably deserved one, but it was lost on the street in the monsoon and wind storm that followed.
My car is a ‘97 Subaru Legacy Outback, Colorado license plate #555-XXX.
Enclosed is a check for $20. I don’t know the amount of the ticket, but I’m guessing it‘s the same as when I did a similarly stupid thing back in May. If the rate has gone up since then, please would you please call me at one of the numbers below?
Thank you for your attention to this matter. As always, your service is appreciated, as I never feel like I’m giving the city and county enough money until I’ve got a parking ticket to pay.
Sincerely,
Julie M.
123 Main Street
Denver, CO 80202
555-2933
555-1426
Sunday, August 28, 2005
Saturday, August 27, 2005
Uncle Tom's Cabin
In the past two weeks while I've been riding the bus to work, I've managed to finish one book and start another. My first book, Fried Green Tomatoes at The Whistle Stop Cafe was an outstanding book, easy reading, and a fun look at an aging woman who makes friend with a character from Whistle Stop, Alabama who tells her stories that change her outlook on life.
After I finished that book, I didn't intend to pick up another book about The South, but I have had a copy of the Civil War classic Uncle Tom's Cabin by Harriet Beecher Stowe, a book on a long list of classics that I've been meaning to read for years.
At first the book was a bit slow going. The way Mrs. Stowe wrote about the slaves' version of English made it difficult to figure out where they were saying, so it took some concentration.
But as I read along, like learning a new language, I got the inflections and spellings of the slave talk ("gwine" means "going"). I was soon enveloped in a great, dare I say genius piece of storytelling.
I'm halfway through the book, and I'm already worried about reading it too fast so it's over too soon, but am so compelled by the story that I want to read to find out what happens to the characters, including George & Eliza, and of course, Uncle Tom.
Never have I read a book that so richly interweaves characters from such diverse backgrounds, from the pitiable but heroic Eliza, running from slavery with her only surviving child the night before the child is to be sold "downriver" -- a fate for slaves that ranks right up there with being sent to hard labor in Siberia.
Mrs. Stowe writes about the different Southern slave owners, how some of them struggle with the question of slavery, and how many manage to legitimize their owning of slaves by using biblical references. Still others don't hide behind the Bible, but choose to be kind to their slaves, with a more humanitarian view of their Black servants.
"The Great Emancipator" -- President Abraham Lincoln -- once met Mrs. Stowe (whose book was originally published as a a serial in a magazine in 1851-1852, galvinizing sentiment among Northerners against slavery), and he said to her "So you're the little lady who started this big war."
Her rich storytelling paints such a portrait of slavery, I can certainly understand why such sentiments gelled over her book.
It also makes me reflect on why I do certain things, and whether or not I do them "because everybody else does" as the Southerners did, or if I take a moral high road over something, looking down on others who choose to do things differently, much like the Northerners did at the time in their attitudes towards slavery.
Much to think about, but I am so thankful to have this book in my hands. What a gem of American Literature, to be sure, and I'm only halfway through the book!
After I finished that book, I didn't intend to pick up another book about The South, but I have had a copy of the Civil War classic Uncle Tom's Cabin by Harriet Beecher Stowe, a book on a long list of classics that I've been meaning to read for years.
At first the book was a bit slow going. The way Mrs. Stowe wrote about the slaves' version of English made it difficult to figure out where they were saying, so it took some concentration.
But as I read along, like learning a new language, I got the inflections and spellings of the slave talk ("gwine" means "going"). I was soon enveloped in a great, dare I say genius piece of storytelling.
I'm halfway through the book, and I'm already worried about reading it too fast so it's over too soon, but am so compelled by the story that I want to read to find out what happens to the characters, including George & Eliza, and of course, Uncle Tom.
Never have I read a book that so richly interweaves characters from such diverse backgrounds, from the pitiable but heroic Eliza, running from slavery with her only surviving child the night before the child is to be sold "downriver" -- a fate for slaves that ranks right up there with being sent to hard labor in Siberia.
Mrs. Stowe writes about the different Southern slave owners, how some of them struggle with the question of slavery, and how many manage to legitimize their owning of slaves by using biblical references. Still others don't hide behind the Bible, but choose to be kind to their slaves, with a more humanitarian view of their Black servants.
"The Great Emancipator" -- President Abraham Lincoln -- once met Mrs. Stowe (whose book was originally published as a a serial in a magazine in 1851-1852, galvinizing sentiment among Northerners against slavery), and he said to her "So you're the little lady who started this big war."
Her rich storytelling paints such a portrait of slavery, I can certainly understand why such sentiments gelled over her book.
It also makes me reflect on why I do certain things, and whether or not I do them "because everybody else does" as the Southerners did, or if I take a moral high road over something, looking down on others who choose to do things differently, much like the Northerners did at the time in their attitudes towards slavery.
Much to think about, but I am so thankful to have this book in my hands. What a gem of American Literature, to be sure, and I'm only halfway through the book!
Sunday, August 21, 2005
Work Week #1 Is Over, The Cats Wonder...
Where Have You Been?
This is Jack, my 11-month-old kitten. He's a bit put off now that I've gone to work every day this week. He's also quite the talker. Meow, Meow, meeeeow. Following me around the house as I get ready as if to say "you're going out AGAIN?" and then again when I return.
I enjoyed my first week of work. Even if the cats missed me. I had a dream last night that my cat Jack looked at me as I talked to him the way I do, and he said in a human voice, "You don't have to talk to me like I don't know. I understand every word you say."
Freaky.
Wednesday, August 03, 2005
Ode to The End of Unemployment
Well, that was fun. Sort of. For the past 5 1/2 months, I've been without a job. I got laid off from my job in February, and at long last, I've been hired to work at a newspaper here in Denver.
Let's take stock of what I accomplished (in addition to looking for and finding work).
1) I made three baby quilts and one queen size one, all given away to friends and family.
2) I cleaned. Boy did I. I've never been much of a housekeeper, but having time on my hands allowed me to have the time to tackle those hard-to-reach areas like the back bedroom. I also cleaned out my kitchen cupboards, the fridge, and some but not all areas of the basement.
3) I painted and rehab'd my front porch. I hated the way my front entrance looked. With a tired old couch, it was time to do something. I pulled a "Trading Spaces" job on it, bought a slipcover and re-covered the cushions. I bought a couple of end tables and cleaned up the area so it looked less like a white trash front porch, and more like a place to hang out.
4) I lost my last grandmother. This wasn't necessarily a good or a bad thing. Gram was 93 and ready to go, but it was sad to lose her just weeks after my unemployment started. I was able to fly out for the funeral, help plan it, and take care of her estate.
5) I later drove to Oregon -- and picked up my grandmother's things that I wanted. I now have my grandfather's desk, Gram's dining set, and a few of her sewing things. It feels good to have those things in my house, and after re-covering the dining chair seats, it looks good too.
6) I lost 20+ pounds. I started Weight Watchers in January, and had already lost about 10 lbs. when I got laid off...I continued my diet and exercise plan, and lost an additional 20 lbs. during my unemployment. I feel lighter, and happy to be able to wear some of my "thin clothes". While I'd still like to lose a few more pounds, I'm glad to be feeling healthier.
7) I volunteered at a local homeless shelter. Just a couple of months ago, I decided that with all this free time, I could easily spend a few hours a week at a local shelter. I've learned a lot in a short period of time, and met some amazing people. I feel like I've gotten more out of it than I gave, that's for sure. I hope to continue after my job starts.
8) A little introspection. After 3 miscarriages in the past 3 years, I needed time off from all the stress and strain of trying to make a family. As much as I would like to have a child, I am coming to the point of being at peace with not having children, or possibly adopting. This is the part of my journey that is yet clear to me, but having this time to think about things and realize that my life will be complete even if we don't have kids has been invaluable.
9) Planning our trip to Europe. I've bought a few books on Paris and London, and spent a good deal of time poring over them and deciding what to see. When I was down about being unemployed, it was wonderful to have something to look forward to. Nothing eases ones heart than to know that in a matter of weeks or months, one will be in Paris.
10) Taking care of my husband. Brian works so hard, it has been fun to be able to have dinner ready for him when he got home, take care of all the housework, and allow him to relax when he got home from work. Within a few weeks of my lay-off, he said "Man, I'm getting spoiled. Can we afford this?" Of course we could for a while, but ultimately no, I'm not built to be a housewife, and we don't make enough money on a single income for us to afford it, even if I was. But it's been nice to have the time to try it out.
The only downside to being unemployed for a long time is that unemployment payments aren't enough to do all the things you want to when you have all that time on your hands. But it looks like we made it through, and next Monday will be so nice.
Back to work I go.
Let's take stock of what I accomplished (in addition to looking for and finding work).
1) I made three baby quilts and one queen size one, all given away to friends and family.
2) I cleaned. Boy did I. I've never been much of a housekeeper, but having time on my hands allowed me to have the time to tackle those hard-to-reach areas like the back bedroom. I also cleaned out my kitchen cupboards, the fridge, and some but not all areas of the basement.
3) I painted and rehab'd my front porch. I hated the way my front entrance looked. With a tired old couch, it was time to do something. I pulled a "Trading Spaces" job on it, bought a slipcover and re-covered the cushions. I bought a couple of end tables and cleaned up the area so it looked less like a white trash front porch, and more like a place to hang out.
4) I lost my last grandmother. This wasn't necessarily a good or a bad thing. Gram was 93 and ready to go, but it was sad to lose her just weeks after my unemployment started. I was able to fly out for the funeral, help plan it, and take care of her estate.
5) I later drove to Oregon -- and picked up my grandmother's things that I wanted. I now have my grandfather's desk, Gram's dining set, and a few of her sewing things. It feels good to have those things in my house, and after re-covering the dining chair seats, it looks good too.
6) I lost 20+ pounds. I started Weight Watchers in January, and had already lost about 10 lbs. when I got laid off...I continued my diet and exercise plan, and lost an additional 20 lbs. during my unemployment. I feel lighter, and happy to be able to wear some of my "thin clothes". While I'd still like to lose a few more pounds, I'm glad to be feeling healthier.
7) I volunteered at a local homeless shelter. Just a couple of months ago, I decided that with all this free time, I could easily spend a few hours a week at a local shelter. I've learned a lot in a short period of time, and met some amazing people. I feel like I've gotten more out of it than I gave, that's for sure. I hope to continue after my job starts.
8) A little introspection. After 3 miscarriages in the past 3 years, I needed time off from all the stress and strain of trying to make a family. As much as I would like to have a child, I am coming to the point of being at peace with not having children, or possibly adopting. This is the part of my journey that is yet clear to me, but having this time to think about things and realize that my life will be complete even if we don't have kids has been invaluable.
9) Planning our trip to Europe. I've bought a few books on Paris and London, and spent a good deal of time poring over them and deciding what to see. When I was down about being unemployed, it was wonderful to have something to look forward to. Nothing eases ones heart than to know that in a matter of weeks or months, one will be in Paris.
10) Taking care of my husband. Brian works so hard, it has been fun to be able to have dinner ready for him when he got home, take care of all the housework, and allow him to relax when he got home from work. Within a few weeks of my lay-off, he said "Man, I'm getting spoiled. Can we afford this?" Of course we could for a while, but ultimately no, I'm not built to be a housewife, and we don't make enough money on a single income for us to afford it, even if I was. But it's been nice to have the time to try it out.
The only downside to being unemployed for a long time is that unemployment payments aren't enough to do all the things you want to when you have all that time on your hands. But it looks like we made it through, and next Monday will be so nice.
Back to work I go.
Friday, July 29, 2005
The Few, The Loud, The Talkative
I went to a bridal shower last night for a friend, who's from England, who is marrying an American friend of ours. After a rough day yesterday, I thought about not going to a party, but decided to buck up and go anyway.
This English friend had a few friends and her sister in town from London for the wedding, and since I'm going to London in a couple of months, I thought it would be nice to talk with them a bit about their home country.
Well, it was not to be. The sister-in-law-to-be was invited as well, and the moment she walked in the door, she did nothing but yak on and on about herself. She was so loud, she drowned out any hope of other conversations, and when her husband called her on her cell phone, she proceeded to stay in the room and loudly talk to him and report on everything he said. Ugh.
There was some eye contact between the other 10 of us in the room that said I was not alone in my disgust. I tried to give her the benefit of the doubt and thought "maybe she just stays home with the kids all day and doesn't have anyone to talk to." But no, apparently she's like that all the time, so said one of my friends later.
By the end of the evening, I knew about her relationship with her husband, mother, and that she had two kids, and what they were like. I scarcely can remember a detail about anyone else in the room, because we barely had a chance to say anything.
When I left with a friend, we walked out into the driveway, and I told Wendi "I know I can talk a lot, but wow!" And she said "No, you're not like that! But she's ALWAYS been that way."
I wonder if she went home and told her husband what a great time she had, and if it even crossed her mind that she talked so much she had NO chance of learning anything about anyone else at the party.
I often wonder if there is anything one can do in those situations. I tried to have side conversations as was possible, but our British guests began to tune out, one checking her pictures on her camera, and another just gave up and went to bed.
What a lost opportunity. After the day I had yesterday (I was told I wasn't the candidate for a job I really wanted, and I was deeply disappointed) I was hoping for a chance to look forward to my European vacation by talking with some Europeans. Instead, I got to listen to a loud-mouthed conservative Air Force wife from Colorado Springs tell me about every detail of her childbirth experiences to what her husband likes her to do in bed. TMI, thank you very much.
At one point, she was prattling on about her childbirth experiences, and I quipped "This isn't a baby shower, I think we should talk about weddings, don't you think?" then asked everyone in the room about what their weddings were like. Miss Loudmouth cut right in and started telling us about her wedding, and how her husband and her were SO happy after 14 years. I wonder if he'd have the chance to even tell her he's not happy as he probably doesn't get a chance to get a word edge-wise.
How do you handle those situations? Do you just bear it and pray to God she doesn't show up at too many other parties? I can't imagine anything I could have said to get her to shut her trap long enough to let others talk that wouldn't have been rude itself.
I'm so glad yesterday is over!
This English friend had a few friends and her sister in town from London for the wedding, and since I'm going to London in a couple of months, I thought it would be nice to talk with them a bit about their home country.
Well, it was not to be. The sister-in-law-to-be was invited as well, and the moment she walked in the door, she did nothing but yak on and on about herself. She was so loud, she drowned out any hope of other conversations, and when her husband called her on her cell phone, she proceeded to stay in the room and loudly talk to him and report on everything he said. Ugh.
There was some eye contact between the other 10 of us in the room that said I was not alone in my disgust. I tried to give her the benefit of the doubt and thought "maybe she just stays home with the kids all day and doesn't have anyone to talk to." But no, apparently she's like that all the time, so said one of my friends later.
By the end of the evening, I knew about her relationship with her husband, mother, and that she had two kids, and what they were like. I scarcely can remember a detail about anyone else in the room, because we barely had a chance to say anything.
When I left with a friend, we walked out into the driveway, and I told Wendi "I know I can talk a lot, but wow!" And she said "No, you're not like that! But she's ALWAYS been that way."
I wonder if she went home and told her husband what a great time she had, and if it even crossed her mind that she talked so much she had NO chance of learning anything about anyone else at the party.
I often wonder if there is anything one can do in those situations. I tried to have side conversations as was possible, but our British guests began to tune out, one checking her pictures on her camera, and another just gave up and went to bed.
What a lost opportunity. After the day I had yesterday (I was told I wasn't the candidate for a job I really wanted, and I was deeply disappointed) I was hoping for a chance to look forward to my European vacation by talking with some Europeans. Instead, I got to listen to a loud-mouthed conservative Air Force wife from Colorado Springs tell me about every detail of her childbirth experiences to what her husband likes her to do in bed. TMI, thank you very much.
At one point, she was prattling on about her childbirth experiences, and I quipped "This isn't a baby shower, I think we should talk about weddings, don't you think?" then asked everyone in the room about what their weddings were like. Miss Loudmouth cut right in and started telling us about her wedding, and how her husband and her were SO happy after 14 years. I wonder if he'd have the chance to even tell her he's not happy as he probably doesn't get a chance to get a word edge-wise.
How do you handle those situations? Do you just bear it and pray to God she doesn't show up at too many other parties? I can't imagine anything I could have said to get her to shut her trap long enough to let others talk that wouldn't have been rude itself.
I'm so glad yesterday is over!
Thursday, July 21, 2005
Terrorists and Their Copycats
London's Trafalgar Square, with Big Ben in the background.
I was saddened to hear of an additional terror attack on London this morning. Just two weeks ago, 50+ people were killed as an orchestrated attack to the city's transportation attack occurred within minutes of each other.
Today, I woke up to similar news, only to find that as I watched the developments, it's believed that the "bombers" were actually copycats, and that fortunately, there was no loss of life.
As most humans on the planet with access to the news wonder, "what are they thinking?"
I spend some time on a couple of websites that have discussion boards concerning travel to Europe. While some people are stupid enough to think that terrorists=Islamic people, and others think that all Muslims are terrorists, most of us know that is not the case.
Others discuss whether they should travel to London now that the bombinbs have occurred -- yet again.
I guess if I was going in two weeks, I'd wonder too. Instead, my husband and I are flying to London in September, and still plan on going. There is no reason in my mind to alter my plans for some terrorist or their even more pathetic versions, the copycats who do something like this just to gain attention.
I was in London in 2003 -- it was my first trip to Europe, and my husband and I took a long trip across Europe, starting in the U.K., and heading to Paris, Venice, Florence, Rome, Athens, Izmir and Istanbul.
When I stepped out of the Westminster Tube station, I saw Big Ben, looming large in front of me, and I cried actual tears. What a lovely city, what a wonderful people, and what a fabulous time we had hanging out in Trafalgar Square, seeing Buckingham Palace, the Tower of London and its Crown Jewels. The historical records room at the British Library wow'd me with original documents of everything from The Magna Carta, Shakespeare's original works, and the napkin John Lennon wrote "Yesterday" on.
No, I will not be swayed. I figure I still have a better chance of getting killed driving my car in Colorado or crossing the street.
Just in London, I have to look to the right instead of the left.
Monday, July 18, 2005
Time, Boy Do I have a Lot of THAT!
I've been unemployed since February, when I was laid off from my job. My job moved to Boise, Idaho, and for obvious reasons to everyone except the actual residents of Boise, I did not go with it.
In the past 5 months, I've had the time to do a real job search. I recently applied for and interviewed with The Denver Post for a position I really want. I'm waiting to hear about that, hopefully this week.
As the weeks tick by, I've found myself doing a few projects here and there. I finished a queen-size quilt and three baby quilts. I've cleaned out a few places that needed doing, and I've done plenty of research on our trip to Paris, France for September.
But in between all those hours of work and play, I find myself stumped about a few things.
One -- and probably Number One -- is about our family and how to build it. I've suffered three miscarriages in three years, and we both feel the need to take a break from trying to make a family, either biological or adopted. My last miscarriage was in January, and while that feels very immediate in some respects, it feels like it was eons ago. I have a friend who I recently learned is pregnant. It's still hard to hear that other people have such an easy time of getting and staying pregnant. Like my husband Brian said the other day as he told me the news -- it's hard to realize what different routes some other people's lives take.
Of course we hope her pregnancy is perfect and that everything turns out fine. But whenever we hear about people having babies it just reminds us of what we've gone through and that for all intents and purposes, we just can't. The innocence of thinking we'd just make a family when we wanted to is gone forever.
I guess I'm at a loss about how to really grieve that. I feel like it's just a fact of my life in many respects. I feel like while it is sad, there's nothing I can really do about it, so then what?
There are days I cry a tear or two, but it's not the empty hole it once was in my heart. I feel my heart feel heavy with the burden sometimes, but it's not a constant feeling, more situational as I hear of other people moving on and having their families.
I keep thinking there must be something I can do to work through this more. Maybe this time I have on my hands is just what I need -- time to think about it a little, but also to heal as I move on with my life and put some distance between me and my losses. Is that all there is to it? Perhaps yes.
Number 2 -- The other things I think about are "what do I want to be in life?" As I got laid off, I knew I'd have the time and the unemployment check to at least make do while I looked for work. But I still wonder if I'll ever find a job that I really love. The job I applied for at The Post is the closest thing I can think of to a perfect job for me -- one of researching and finding information for reporters. When I was a reporter, my favorite part of the job was doing the research end of things. On one hand, I think I should go back to being a reporter, but I didn't like the stress of the conflicts that arise from being a reporter. Knocking on people's doors for comment when they just want to be left alone, that sort of thing.
I find myself wanting to do a more supportive job for the news business. I find that I want a job where I can go home at night and not have to still be stressed from a day's work. I find peace at being at home, and don't feel like I need to have a high-powered career. That's so different from where I was several years ago. What changed?
I guess as I get older, I realize that my family -- husband, brothers, sister, Mom -- are the most important people in my life. I want to spend time with them and know them well, as they are the best friends in my life and by far my greatest supporters. Doing a job that would require long hours and an inability to nurture those relationships is just not something I want to do.
Why do I feel weird about that. I don't know. I guess there's a part of me that thinks I'm supposed to be more of my aggressive self. My mind and heart are at war over this sometimes.
That's all for now.
In the past 5 months, I've had the time to do a real job search. I recently applied for and interviewed with The Denver Post for a position I really want. I'm waiting to hear about that, hopefully this week.
As the weeks tick by, I've found myself doing a few projects here and there. I finished a queen-size quilt and three baby quilts. I've cleaned out a few places that needed doing, and I've done plenty of research on our trip to Paris, France for September.
But in between all those hours of work and play, I find myself stumped about a few things.
One -- and probably Number One -- is about our family and how to build it. I've suffered three miscarriages in three years, and we both feel the need to take a break from trying to make a family, either biological or adopted. My last miscarriage was in January, and while that feels very immediate in some respects, it feels like it was eons ago. I have a friend who I recently learned is pregnant. It's still hard to hear that other people have such an easy time of getting and staying pregnant. Like my husband Brian said the other day as he told me the news -- it's hard to realize what different routes some other people's lives take.
Of course we hope her pregnancy is perfect and that everything turns out fine. But whenever we hear about people having babies it just reminds us of what we've gone through and that for all intents and purposes, we just can't. The innocence of thinking we'd just make a family when we wanted to is gone forever.
I guess I'm at a loss about how to really grieve that. I feel like it's just a fact of my life in many respects. I feel like while it is sad, there's nothing I can really do about it, so then what?
There are days I cry a tear or two, but it's not the empty hole it once was in my heart. I feel my heart feel heavy with the burden sometimes, but it's not a constant feeling, more situational as I hear of other people moving on and having their families.
I keep thinking there must be something I can do to work through this more. Maybe this time I have on my hands is just what I need -- time to think about it a little, but also to heal as I move on with my life and put some distance between me and my losses. Is that all there is to it? Perhaps yes.
Number 2 -- The other things I think about are "what do I want to be in life?" As I got laid off, I knew I'd have the time and the unemployment check to at least make do while I looked for work. But I still wonder if I'll ever find a job that I really love. The job I applied for at The Post is the closest thing I can think of to a perfect job for me -- one of researching and finding information for reporters. When I was a reporter, my favorite part of the job was doing the research end of things. On one hand, I think I should go back to being a reporter, but I didn't like the stress of the conflicts that arise from being a reporter. Knocking on people's doors for comment when they just want to be left alone, that sort of thing.
I find myself wanting to do a more supportive job for the news business. I find that I want a job where I can go home at night and not have to still be stressed from a day's work. I find peace at being at home, and don't feel like I need to have a high-powered career. That's so different from where I was several years ago. What changed?
I guess as I get older, I realize that my family -- husband, brothers, sister, Mom -- are the most important people in my life. I want to spend time with them and know them well, as they are the best friends in my life and by far my greatest supporters. Doing a job that would require long hours and an inability to nurture those relationships is just not something I want to do.
Why do I feel weird about that. I don't know. I guess there's a part of me that thinks I'm supposed to be more of my aggressive self. My mind and heart are at war over this sometimes.
That's all for now.
Sunday, July 10, 2005
I Cried When She Left
Dhan and Julie
It amazes me sometimes, how friendships work. My friend Dhan and I went to school in the 4th and 5th grades together way back in the late 1970s, when both our families lived in the same town in Eastern Oregon.
I haven't seen Dhan since we were here in Colorado 13 years ago for my Dad's funeral. At the time she was living here, and my parents had recently moved to Colorado.
In the past couple of years we've talked more and more, and renewed our friendship as our lives have moved us around -- her to Tennessee and me to Denver.
I was so excited when she and her husband and son came to visit us this past weekend. We renewed our friendship, and talked a lot about our years together in Oregon, reminiscing about our years together and how we've all grown and changed.
As she said, it's amazing what an impact a friendship from our 4th-5th grade experience can have on our adult lives, as we have been able to remain friends and grow in the same directions as time passes.
I've never cried when a friend has left my house, but today I did. It was such a lovely visit, and her leaving left a quiet spot in my house. She will be missed.
What a lovely person.
Saturday, June 25, 2005
They're Not The "Big Breasts" in French
The Grand Tetons
Even my Dad said to me one time as we drove through the Grand Tetons the last summer he was alive, that he thought "The Grand Tetons" meant "The Big Breasts" in French.
I'm not sure where that came from...and maybe it's true, but after going through my big French dictionary, I couldn't find anything to support that American myth.
On Wednesday morning this past week, I drove from Mammoth Hot Springs in North Yellowstone, stopping at the Fountain Paint Pots and Old Faithful, before heading south through The Grand Teton National Park before coming home to Denver. This picture was taken at about 9 a.m., and despite my antsiness to get home, and the fact that I had just passed the slowest, worst driver ever, I was willing to pull over for a moment at the edge of the lake to snap this photo.
I'm finding as I age, and live in the Mile High City longer and longer, that I am fascinated by mountains. Their majesty of soaring to great heights in short distances, their foreboding presence when you contemplate what it would take to climb them, all make me love to look at them and wonder at the great creation that is Earth.
I've driven and traveled the United States fairly often in my 38 years. I've been to Miami Beach, New York City, Southern California and Seattle, Washington, so I've seen the four corners essentially, of our continental USA.
But in the heart of it, right up the middle, are Rocky Mountains, with alpine lakes, rivers and streams and majestic mountains that put me in awe. The Grand Tetons is one of those places as well. To quote Yakov Shmirnoff, the Russian comedian "What a beautiful country."
Wednesday, June 22, 2005
Dashboard Photography
Yellowstone North Entrance, 6/21/05
This past week, I took a roadtrip back to my stomping grounds in the Northwest. Mostly to pick up some of my grandmother's things that she left me, and to help my brothers and sister go through the last of her storage items. On the way back, I drove through Yellowstone National Park.
This photo was taken as I approached the North Entrance to the park...the sunset was stunning and I couldn't help but snap this and many other photos along the way.
There is something great about taking a road trip, but I particularly enjoyed this one. As I drove on this 3,000 mile journey alone, I had a great time just cruising along, seeing a lot of my favorite places in the West and Northwest, especially the incredibly precious Yellowstone.
A road trip lets you think, but when you're alone -- you often find yourself wanting to press on -- especially when you've been on the road for 15 hours, and are about to collapse. As I drove along, I found a new hobby -- one I've named "Dashboard Photography". No worries about taking good pictures...some of them will turn out ok, others will focus on the bugs on the windshield, only to be deleted later.
But this precious photo is one I will remember and enjoy -- because it's entering into what I consider to be one of the most special places in the U.S. One of geysers, bison, paintpots, and elk. One of mountains, rivers and a part of us that seems lost and forgotten, but here it remains.
More later.
Saturday, June 11, 2005
E is for Effort
Last night my husband and I were joking around...like we do sometimes. OK, a lot.
He said "I love you," and I responded "But I'm SO high maintenance!"
He laughed and said no, you're not. In fact, he said, I don't have any of the problems some of my friends complain about with their wives.
Which of course, begged the question "What kinds of problems?"
"Effort," he said.
Sometimes he said, he hears from his friends that their marriages have problems because someone just stops trying.
"I think it's easier because we're friends too," he said.
So true.
I always feel bad for people who are in unhappy marriages. Sometimes they just married so young that they didn't really choose the right person, or sometimes they are the right person, but they've been together so long and take each other for granted that they stop working at making the marriage a happy one.
I have more than one female friend who feels their husband has stopped trying too. I've seen it with my own two eyes. In some cases, it's so bad that you just want to sit the guy down and SAY something, but of course it's not my business to do so.
The one thing I don't get is how people can stop trying in a relationship, and yet just stay in it, miserable. And often, the person who stops trying first blames the other for not being there.
But it is ALWAYS time to break the impasse. Saying "let's fix this" are probably the greatest words besides "I love you" that you can say to your spouse. But so few people do. Some people will step up to the plate and change, others will throw in the towel.
I've been married before. I've said "Let's fix this" only to find out he didn't want to fix anything. Towel thrower.
But I've also been married to a man for the past five years who takes the smaller problems in life and says "How do we fix this together?" He's my Brian.
There are times when things get tough for us, but we're in it together, and that makes it amazingly easy to get through. Ultimately, the only person in the world I want to go through life with is my Brian, and he feels the same way about me.
A little Effort, that's all I'm saying. Try it today.
He said "I love you," and I responded "But I'm SO high maintenance!"
He laughed and said no, you're not. In fact, he said, I don't have any of the problems some of my friends complain about with their wives.
Which of course, begged the question "What kinds of problems?"
"Effort," he said.
Sometimes he said, he hears from his friends that their marriages have problems because someone just stops trying.
"I think it's easier because we're friends too," he said.
So true.
I always feel bad for people who are in unhappy marriages. Sometimes they just married so young that they didn't really choose the right person, or sometimes they are the right person, but they've been together so long and take each other for granted that they stop working at making the marriage a happy one.
I have more than one female friend who feels their husband has stopped trying too. I've seen it with my own two eyes. In some cases, it's so bad that you just want to sit the guy down and SAY something, but of course it's not my business to do so.
The one thing I don't get is how people can stop trying in a relationship, and yet just stay in it, miserable. And often, the person who stops trying first blames the other for not being there.
But it is ALWAYS time to break the impasse. Saying "let's fix this" are probably the greatest words besides "I love you" that you can say to your spouse. But so few people do. Some people will step up to the plate and change, others will throw in the towel.
I've been married before. I've said "Let's fix this" only to find out he didn't want to fix anything. Towel thrower.
But I've also been married to a man for the past five years who takes the smaller problems in life and says "How do we fix this together?" He's my Brian.
There are times when things get tough for us, but we're in it together, and that makes it amazingly easy to get through. Ultimately, the only person in the world I want to go through life with is my Brian, and he feels the same way about me.
A little Effort, that's all I'm saying. Try it today.
Friday, June 10, 2005
Kitten Hopper Finds a Fort
Kitten Hopper Finds a Home
I recently finished a quilt -- and decided who it's going to (that's a secret to those in my family who might read this as it's going to be a surprise). I have it boxed up for a trip, and recently took it out to show someone who had come over to visit.
Well, after showing the friend I didn't wrap it back up and put it in the sealed box, and recently I walked into the back room to see this photo op -- my cat had found a way UNDER the paper and ONTO the blanket.
I find my cats like to lay on things -- sure, we all like comfortable spots, but they also like to be covered up with a view from their fortress. It reminds me of when I was a kid and we'd hide under the kitchen table after throwing a sheet over the top to make a "fort" or play "house".
There's something about finding your comfortable place. For me, I like my front porch during a lightning storm. Enclosed with windows, I feel safe from the storm while being able to watch the light show and hear the big thunder roll across the skies.
I'm getting ready to go on a long road trip alone -- to Oregon. I'm going out to get some of my Grandma's things from her estate, including her dining room set and my Grandpa's old secretary desk.
I find the prospect of a road trip exciting, especially because I find the road to be a good place to process things...but it's also a feeling of being "out there" on my own -- out of my comfort zone that is at some level exciting, but also a little scary.
While most of my brothers and sisters don't really care about having any of her stuff around them, I find the prospect of having some of Gram's things in my home comforting. Partly, because Gram's house was always a place of stability -- she never moved in my whole life while my family moved around a lot. I remember many summers eating at that table, and playing "office" at Grandpa's desk, making prank phone calls with the phone that sat on it, and playing "school" where I was the teacher to my little brother.
To have those things in my house will feel like a few things that belonged to her went on to be in another home to build new memories and celebrate old ones.
Someday I hope I'll have kids who can do the same thing I did, hopefully minus the prank phone calls.
"Is your refrigerator running? Better go and catch it!"
Friday, May 20, 2005
We Can Rebuild It...
I went to get my hair cut today. My hairdresser works at the mall place I go to -- and have ever since my arrival in Denver. I went through a few hair stylists there, then stopped looking when Olivia cut my hair the first time.
I was sad today when Olivia told me she's going through a divorce. Having gone through a divorce myself -- even when it's the right thing to do -- I know it's a hard thing to get past.
As we talked, I shared a little of my experience, and tried to assure her that a year from now, so much of her life will have changed for the better as she picks up and rebuilds. I hope I listened enough -- she talked a long time -- but I realized quickly how those of us who have been through it go through that time when we just need to talk about it.
How many of us have to rebuild and revamp our thinking when life hands us the proverbial lemonades?
My first marriage ended after 5 years. There's no reason to go through why it ended, only that I left after trying to save it, and it didn't work.
Feelings of failure are a natural part of the end of a marriage...I'd hate to think that only the occasional freak of nature would enter a marriage thinking that it's a temporary thing. We all go into it thinking that it's going to work out, and when it doesn't it's normal to feel that we could have done more.
I went to see a counselor after I left my husband at the time, and said those words..."I'll always wonder if I could have done more." To which the counselor said simply "At what cost?"
At what cost is right. As my husband and I have struggled with fertility issues over the past few years, we've also had to measure the emotional toll on us as we forged ahead and tried again -- only to lose 3 pregnancies.
Ultimately, the last loss was our last, I think. There wasn't a lot of talk about trying again, and when my grandma died recently and left us some money, I didn't even entertain the idea of further fertility treatment, and didn't think about it at all until a friend asked. Instead, we bought tickets to Europe and put some money aside for the trip so we wouldn't have to save up.
Yes, we are in the process of rebuilding -- rebuilding our image of parents-in-waiting to a couple who will grow old taking trips and perhaps overspoiling our pets while our friends have their kids and complain that they can't afford to go to Europe.
I find that life is a trade-off, a compromise, and a series of setting priorities and sometimes re-setting them. As we re-define our lives without kids, we find ourselves relaxing about the whole thing, spending more time on each other. Simply rebuilding our image of how our lives will be.
Another lesson in life learned.
Rebuild.
I was sad today when Olivia told me she's going through a divorce. Having gone through a divorce myself -- even when it's the right thing to do -- I know it's a hard thing to get past.
As we talked, I shared a little of my experience, and tried to assure her that a year from now, so much of her life will have changed for the better as she picks up and rebuilds. I hope I listened enough -- she talked a long time -- but I realized quickly how those of us who have been through it go through that time when we just need to talk about it.
How many of us have to rebuild and revamp our thinking when life hands us the proverbial lemonades?
My first marriage ended after 5 years. There's no reason to go through why it ended, only that I left after trying to save it, and it didn't work.
Feelings of failure are a natural part of the end of a marriage...I'd hate to think that only the occasional freak of nature would enter a marriage thinking that it's a temporary thing. We all go into it thinking that it's going to work out, and when it doesn't it's normal to feel that we could have done more.
I went to see a counselor after I left my husband at the time, and said those words..."I'll always wonder if I could have done more." To which the counselor said simply "At what cost?"
At what cost is right. As my husband and I have struggled with fertility issues over the past few years, we've also had to measure the emotional toll on us as we forged ahead and tried again -- only to lose 3 pregnancies.
Ultimately, the last loss was our last, I think. There wasn't a lot of talk about trying again, and when my grandma died recently and left us some money, I didn't even entertain the idea of further fertility treatment, and didn't think about it at all until a friend asked. Instead, we bought tickets to Europe and put some money aside for the trip so we wouldn't have to save up.
Yes, we are in the process of rebuilding -- rebuilding our image of parents-in-waiting to a couple who will grow old taking trips and perhaps overspoiling our pets while our friends have their kids and complain that they can't afford to go to Europe.
I find that life is a trade-off, a compromise, and a series of setting priorities and sometimes re-setting them. As we re-define our lives without kids, we find ourselves relaxing about the whole thing, spending more time on each other. Simply rebuilding our image of how our lives will be.
Another lesson in life learned.
Rebuild.
Tuesday, May 17, 2005
Meet Zippy
Zippy The Fish
Meet Zippy.
Approximately the length of a pencil eraser and about as thin as a pin, (he's barely visible to the naked eye) Zippy hides out under the Roman Column tank decoration. When he's hungry, he zips from one hiding place to the next looking for food, then he zips back to his favorite hide-out.
My husband and I just got a fish in the tank about a week ago, and got all new fish -- initially we chose just 9 fish -- 3 Zebras, 3 Neon Tetras and 3 Black Molly's. The intent was to make sure the tank was safe for a few inexpensive fish, then get bigger more expensive ones as we've established that it's safe to do so.
One of the Black Molly girl fish we picked out looked quite pregnant to me even at PetsMart, and within a day or two of her being in our tank, Zippy showed up.
We've had one fatality -- one of the Tetras didn't make it, the smallest one, and I have to be honest that I don't hold out much hope for Zippy because of it. But it sure is fun to try and find the Littlest Fish of All in there and see that he's made it another day!
Sunday, May 08, 2005
A Little Piece of Heaven.
Brian's first look at his new iPod
My husband turned 40 on Saturday. Brian is a musician and LOVES any kind of music there is. It was my pleasure to find the perfect gift -- an iPod Photo with 30 gigs. I enlisted the financial help of his parents, my Mom, and his sister and her husband to help me afford such a great gift.
The night before his birthday, we went to dinner at Jerusalem's and as we were leaving, I asked him if anything about turning 40 was bothering him, as he hadn't said a word about it. Well, he said, I guess I have to get some expensive tastes, like a sports car, an iPod and an XBox.
I bought the iPod a few weeks ago and was very proud of keeping my trap shut and letting it be a huge surprise. He had no hint, no clue that he would get such a lovely gift. So when he opened it (see above photo), he stared at it and his mouth hung open for almost a minute before he realized it wasn't just an iPod box, it actually had an iPod IN IT.
There are few times in ones life when you can find the actual PERFECT gift to give someone. I'm so glad I could do this for him, and it's obvious he's happy with it too.
Happy 40th, Sweetie.
Thursday, May 05, 2005
Patriotism
I caution you now that this is a political post. Don't bother flaming me for my ideas, as this is a free country and like anyone else, I'm surely entitled to my opinion. If you can handle it, read on, but get yourself settled in because it's a long one.
I'm no sociologist. There is more than one day I wish I'd at least taken a class in it in college though -- something about Social Problems and Deviance. The next best thing I have is a brother who is a sociology professor, so occasionally I get to ask him a question, and soon we're off to the races about his ideas vs. mine.
I did, however, take a class by the brilliant Professor Jon Bridgeman in college, called "War and Society". In it, we discussed both the technology of war, and how it morphed from rocks and sticks to the nuclear bomb, as well as what a sense of nationalism us Americans achieved in the short time between "The War to End All Wars", aka World War I and World War II.
In the days post 9/11, when American flags were in short supply, I put a small flag on my car along with most everyone else. The sense of unity following 9/11 was amazing, as our national conciousness was raised to a level never before seen in my lifetime, certainly, and probably not since Pearl Harbor was attacked in 1941.
It didn't take 6 months for me to take down that flag, and to resume flying my flag outside my house only on national holidays. And I think you probably can guess why.
At some point, in my opinion, the wheels came off the bus -- the bus that was asking "who did this?" and turned into something entirely different -- one that said "We're going to find someone's ass to kick for this."
But it went further than that. Initially, it was thought that The Man Responsible was Osama bin Laden, and that surely he must be in Afghanistan. I think most everyone was on the bandwagon that said we should go there and hunt him down.
Then, amazingly, there was a shift. I honestly think George Bush, seeing that all he had to do was pull out the short but dramatic footage of the planes crashing into the towers to get what he was after, decided for some reason (and I still don't know what it is) that we needed to invade Iraq.
I remember with some clarity being in the 8th grade when the hostages in Iran were taken. I remember the footage of them being led as the Islamic militants chanted in the background. Iraq, and Saddam Hussein, were our buddies at the time.
So what changed? And more importantly, why are we allowing ourselves to continue to be led around like sheep to slaughter?
I am an American citizen, one who up until now has been proud to be one. As I approach another trip to Europe this fall, I can't help but wonder what people will say to me, and how I'll possibly answer.
I am sickened by this war, and I believe I am not alone. I am also sickened by the sense that my saying so I am somehow unpatriotic, or worse, "Anti-American". I do not understand why people aren't marching in the streets against this war, and I don't understand why the prison scandal at Abu Graib and the holding and "questioning" (if ever there was an understatement, there it is) of foreigners at Guantanamo Bay is not causing people to question what the hell we have become.
The Germans in World War II Europe kept silent as masses of people were killed in Hitler's Final Solution. I know we're not committing genocide (shit, I guess I have to say "I hope not") but in reality, our silence is simply complicity, and for that even I hang my head in shame.
There. I said it.
I'm no sociologist. There is more than one day I wish I'd at least taken a class in it in college though -- something about Social Problems and Deviance. The next best thing I have is a brother who is a sociology professor, so occasionally I get to ask him a question, and soon we're off to the races about his ideas vs. mine.
I did, however, take a class by the brilliant Professor Jon Bridgeman in college, called "War and Society". In it, we discussed both the technology of war, and how it morphed from rocks and sticks to the nuclear bomb, as well as what a sense of nationalism us Americans achieved in the short time between "The War to End All Wars", aka World War I and World War II.
In the days post 9/11, when American flags were in short supply, I put a small flag on my car along with most everyone else. The sense of unity following 9/11 was amazing, as our national conciousness was raised to a level never before seen in my lifetime, certainly, and probably not since Pearl Harbor was attacked in 1941.
It didn't take 6 months for me to take down that flag, and to resume flying my flag outside my house only on national holidays. And I think you probably can guess why.
At some point, in my opinion, the wheels came off the bus -- the bus that was asking "who did this?" and turned into something entirely different -- one that said "We're going to find someone's ass to kick for this."
But it went further than that. Initially, it was thought that The Man Responsible was Osama bin Laden, and that surely he must be in Afghanistan. I think most everyone was on the bandwagon that said we should go there and hunt him down.
Then, amazingly, there was a shift. I honestly think George Bush, seeing that all he had to do was pull out the short but dramatic footage of the planes crashing into the towers to get what he was after, decided for some reason (and I still don't know what it is) that we needed to invade Iraq.
I remember with some clarity being in the 8th grade when the hostages in Iran were taken. I remember the footage of them being led as the Islamic militants chanted in the background. Iraq, and Saddam Hussein, were our buddies at the time.
So what changed? And more importantly, why are we allowing ourselves to continue to be led around like sheep to slaughter?
I am an American citizen, one who up until now has been proud to be one. As I approach another trip to Europe this fall, I can't help but wonder what people will say to me, and how I'll possibly answer.
I am sickened by this war, and I believe I am not alone. I am also sickened by the sense that my saying so I am somehow unpatriotic, or worse, "Anti-American". I do not understand why people aren't marching in the streets against this war, and I don't understand why the prison scandal at Abu Graib and the holding and "questioning" (if ever there was an understatement, there it is) of foreigners at Guantanamo Bay is not causing people to question what the hell we have become.
The Germans in World War II Europe kept silent as masses of people were killed in Hitler's Final Solution. I know we're not committing genocide (shit, I guess I have to say "I hope not") but in reality, our silence is simply complicity, and for that even I hang my head in shame.
There. I said it.
Wednesday, May 04, 2005
I saw you.
I saw you today, the man at the Safeway. Dirty clothes, messy hair. I've never seen you there before, but you were walking around the store with a cart in front of you, but not putting anything in it.
Just as I went to get into line, I saw you carefully put the cart back and leave the store. I couldn't help but think that you went there just to feel a little normal, to look like you were shopping just like everybody else does.
I put a few bucks in my pocket, and as I left the store, I looked for you. I almost never do this, but I thought I'd give you a little money. I scanned the parking lot and you had vanished.
I made a silent prayer that I could find you, but it was not answered. As I drove home my heart broke.
As hard as life can be for me sometimes, I'm not you -- seeking a few minutes of normalcy in what I imagine is an otherwise difficult day.
Just as I went to get into line, I saw you carefully put the cart back and leave the store. I couldn't help but think that you went there just to feel a little normal, to look like you were shopping just like everybody else does.
I put a few bucks in my pocket, and as I left the store, I looked for you. I almost never do this, but I thought I'd give you a little money. I scanned the parking lot and you had vanished.
I made a silent prayer that I could find you, but it was not answered. As I drove home my heart broke.
As hard as life can be for me sometimes, I'm not you -- seeking a few minutes of normalcy in what I imagine is an otherwise difficult day.
Tuesday, May 03, 2005
Defrag Me!
I’m a responsible adult. Not just an adult, mind you, but a highly responsible one. I just spent the whole day doing awful, but highly needed, things.
First off, there was the 8:30 a.m. trip to the dentist to have not one, not two, but THREE fillings. I think that pretty much proves I’m not a procrastinator -- just dive right in and get the worst of it out of the way. I know what you’re thinking -- if I’m not a procrastinator, how did I get to the point of needing three teeth fixed at once? Only one was a bad cavity...the rest were mere surface things to be plugged now instead of allowing them to get worse. But we’re not here to talk about Brian and his root canal.
No, I got my teeth done by 10 a.m. By noon, I got my lips back.
Surprised that I wasn’t in more pain (only mild feeling that someone was rootin’ around in my mouth all morning) I decided to get a few errands done. So I went to the bank, off to buy dog food, and ultimately to the truly happiest place on earth: The Line at the car emissions place.
So, well over an hour and $25 later, my 1995 Subaru with 182,000 miles on it (it has now become a sporting thing to see just how many miles I can put on this thing without throwing a rod, or whatever it is cars do when they die). Whatever it is, Brian says it’s going to happen soon. I just hope I’m not doing 75 on I-70 when it happens!
On to Chore #3 today. There’s not a lot of “yours” and “mine” talk in my house anymore... most things we’ve bought together over the bliss-filled five years of marriage, but when it comes to the computers, Brian’s is Brian’s and mine is mine. Two HPs born about 6 months apart, both run Windows 98 and are in desperate need of replacement. Brian’s ‘puter is used for the Internet and games, for the most part, mine is housed in the back room and holds all the software and fun stuff for my photos and CD burning, etc.
Well, Brian’s computer is dying, but you can’t tell him that. He’s fried the hard drive a couple of times due to viruses, and always takes it to the computer doctor and has them bring it back to life. For this reason, I am concerned that Living Will or not, Brian is not going to let ME die even if the doctors say there isn’t any hope, insisting they reboot me.
But I digress.
So today, after it freezing while only running one program for the fifth time (and having to hard start it because it won’t shut down), I finally decided to scan the disk and defrag the bugger.
Now, only 3 hours later, the Internet is loading pages faster, and I’m able to type without the computer lagging behind me or skipping letters all together.
Days like this make me think that I’m at least making some use out of my time off, taking care of all that ucky stuff. I just hope tomorrow’s more like one of those unemployed days everyone dreams of -- those days that defrag the soul, like going to a museum, out to lunch, or to the country for a long drive. I’ll have to try that.
First off, there was the 8:30 a.m. trip to the dentist to have not one, not two, but THREE fillings. I think that pretty much proves I’m not a procrastinator -- just dive right in and get the worst of it out of the way. I know what you’re thinking -- if I’m not a procrastinator, how did I get to the point of needing three teeth fixed at once? Only one was a bad cavity...the rest were mere surface things to be plugged now instead of allowing them to get worse. But we’re not here to talk about Brian and his root canal.
No, I got my teeth done by 10 a.m. By noon, I got my lips back.
Surprised that I wasn’t in more pain (only mild feeling that someone was rootin’ around in my mouth all morning) I decided to get a few errands done. So I went to the bank, off to buy dog food, and ultimately to the truly happiest place on earth: The Line at the car emissions place.
So, well over an hour and $25 later, my 1995 Subaru with 182,000 miles on it (it has now become a sporting thing to see just how many miles I can put on this thing without throwing a rod, or whatever it is cars do when they die). Whatever it is, Brian says it’s going to happen soon. I just hope I’m not doing 75 on I-70 when it happens!
On to Chore #3 today. There’s not a lot of “yours” and “mine” talk in my house anymore... most things we’ve bought together over the bliss-filled five years of marriage, but when it comes to the computers, Brian’s is Brian’s and mine is mine. Two HPs born about 6 months apart, both run Windows 98 and are in desperate need of replacement. Brian’s ‘puter is used for the Internet and games, for the most part, mine is housed in the back room and holds all the software and fun stuff for my photos and CD burning, etc.
Well, Brian’s computer is dying, but you can’t tell him that. He’s fried the hard drive a couple of times due to viruses, and always takes it to the computer doctor and has them bring it back to life. For this reason, I am concerned that Living Will or not, Brian is not going to let ME die even if the doctors say there isn’t any hope, insisting they reboot me.
But I digress.
So today, after it freezing while only running one program for the fifth time (and having to hard start it because it won’t shut down), I finally decided to scan the disk and defrag the bugger.
Now, only 3 hours later, the Internet is loading pages faster, and I’m able to type without the computer lagging behind me or skipping letters all together.
Days like this make me think that I’m at least making some use out of my time off, taking care of all that ucky stuff. I just hope tomorrow’s more like one of those unemployed days everyone dreams of -- those days that defrag the soul, like going to a museum, out to lunch, or to the country for a long drive. I’ll have to try that.
Saturday, April 30, 2005
Well, I Guess I'm Glad She's Not Dead...
I was glad they found that woman from Georgia alive and well, but really folks. What is the deal with people sometimes?
My freshman year in college at the University of Washington, a girl from my class
disappeared out of the blue. The whole campus seemed to be out looking for her, and the TV crews had a field day with what could have happened to beautiful sorority girl Desiree.
A ticket agent at SeaTac came forward and called police, letting them know that she sold a ticket to Hawaii to a girl who fit that description. Nearly 2 weeks after she went missing, Desiree was found on Maui, sunning herself and apparently oblivious to the manhunt.
Her reason for running and not telling anyone? She was overwhelmed by the college
experience and wanted to get away from it all.
First of all, I understand wanting to get away from the stresses of living, and Lord knows, Maui is a great alternative to reality. Likewise with the recent news of Jennifer Wilbanks, the bride-to-be from Georgia -- I can understand all the stresses of wedding planning and being afraid to get married in front of 600 people.
But really. I would never put my family through something so terrifying as to go missing, leaving my husband to answer questions about the state of our relationship, and have everyone I know out looking for me and falling under possible suspicion of my disappearance. Especially after what happened to Lori Hacking and Laci Peterson in recent years.
I know it’s not a new thing to disappear without a trace and turn up somewhere else. I also know it’s not a new thing to disappear and find out later that your loved one’s body turns up in a ditch or a city dump, killed by a spouse or a random nutcase.
I can’t help but wonder if Ms. Wilbanks will end up marrying her fiance', or if he'll call it off since her actions show her true personality -- one that runs instead of deals with the stresses and strains of life by communicating her needs.
And why on earth did she run to Albuquerque? At the very least, if I ever run away, you can start looking for me in Bermuda.
My freshman year in college at the University of Washington, a girl from my class
disappeared out of the blue. The whole campus seemed to be out looking for her, and the TV crews had a field day with what could have happened to beautiful sorority girl Desiree.
A ticket agent at SeaTac came forward and called police, letting them know that she sold a ticket to Hawaii to a girl who fit that description. Nearly 2 weeks after she went missing, Desiree was found on Maui, sunning herself and apparently oblivious to the manhunt.
Her reason for running and not telling anyone? She was overwhelmed by the college
experience and wanted to get away from it all.
First of all, I understand wanting to get away from the stresses of living, and Lord knows, Maui is a great alternative to reality. Likewise with the recent news of Jennifer Wilbanks, the bride-to-be from Georgia -- I can understand all the stresses of wedding planning and being afraid to get married in front of 600 people.
But really. I would never put my family through something so terrifying as to go missing, leaving my husband to answer questions about the state of our relationship, and have everyone I know out looking for me and falling under possible suspicion of my disappearance. Especially after what happened to Lori Hacking and Laci Peterson in recent years.
I know it’s not a new thing to disappear without a trace and turn up somewhere else. I also know it’s not a new thing to disappear and find out later that your loved one’s body turns up in a ditch or a city dump, killed by a spouse or a random nutcase.
I can’t help but wonder if Ms. Wilbanks will end up marrying her fiance', or if he'll call it off since her actions show her true personality -- one that runs instead of deals with the stresses and strains of life by communicating her needs.
And why on earth did she run to Albuquerque? At the very least, if I ever run away, you can start looking for me in Bermuda.
Wednesday, April 27, 2005
Quilting
My Latest Work In Progress
Part of making a quilt is patience...not just with the sewing, but sometimes in the design.
This quilt has been in the making for a while. It's sat in my sewing room while I've moved on and through other projects. Finally, I realized that I didn't like the way it was turning out, which is probably why I let it sit. This 8-pointed star is a rendition of an Amish pattern. I use the dark colors and black background similar to the Amish style in this case.
I went to the Amish Quilt Exhibition a couple of weeks ago, and it inspired me to finish this piece, changing the center so it had red in it, along with the red points on the outside. It felt like it finally had some balance it didn't have before. It will have a 9-patch border in the colors shown, with a black backing. I plan on machine quilting it.
When I made a similar one for my friend Meg's baby, I realized I REALLY liked the pattern and wanted to make another. I made this quilt without anyone in particular in mind...but as it's come along, I realized there's room in my house for one more quilt to keep.
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