The Thin Man

With the Oscars fresh and inspiration rambling in my head by this post from Neil, I decided to write about my favorite romantic comedies. Just feeling the springtime.

The Thin Man series makes my all time favorite movies list and best romantic comedy. Why? There was COMEDY in that them there romantic comedy.

The dialogue was subtle and startled laughter right out of you. The brilliant writing team of Albert Haclutt and Frances Goodrich have no equal. The story is no where near the match of the dialogue but the dialogue....

Nora: (commenting on another character's beauty) Pretty girl.
Nick: Yes, she's a very nice type.
Nora: You got types?
Nick: Only you, darling. Lanky brunettes with wicked jaws.

Maybe seems cheesy, but I like my cheese and this cheese was excellent. William Powell, Nick, and Myrna Loy, Nora, were geniuses of comedic timing. Doris Day and Rock Hudson had nothing on them.

I wish the current movie world would take lessons from The Thin Man series. I'll take brilliant wit and dialogue any day over cookie cutter stories.

Just musing.

The Fiercest Test Yet

I was feeling rather sunshiny. I still am actually, but having seen yesterday's Yahoo news item (seen below), I am not going to keep my political mouth shut.

Even though I don't agree with abortion, I think abortion is the most personal decision a woman can make. I still believe that abortion comes under a woman's (and actually a man's) right to choose.

I think in today's society with so much prevention available, even in a bathroom of the clubs, I have a hard time understanding why abortion is a common choice. I think the ease in choosing abortion may have more to do with how women see themselves in the sexual process. Which is sad. The self esteem issues, the fear, the ignorance... sad sigh.

In this time of my life, I understand what a young woman can't see beyond and know her life is not over. I can't condemn what people don't know or what fear is preventing them from knowing.

I've never been a situation where I needed an abortion, but I've been to the clinic with two of my friends. Once in high school and once in college. I've seen the protesters outside the clinic who claim so much love and spew hate. Those are the people who terrify me.

I've seen the psychological effects of the process on the women who underwent the procedures then and now. I have a different friend now who rips herself apart because she can't have children. Women who can't seem to help each other.

The person I am today, who wants children and realistically may not have any is against abortion at a very personal level. Yet I still advocate the right of choice because women are left on their own to fend for their health. Women need to be in charge of their health and women's health issues are not taken seriously enough.

The argument over the issue is a sad one. I have no answers, but if I remembered correctly, the Supreme Court ruled that abortion was legal because of privacy rights implied in the First, Ninth and Fourteenth Amendments. Because privacy rights are sacred, I am scared for this law to be overturned. (on more than just abortion issues, but I'll save that post for another day.)

Yahoo News Item on Abortion

S.D. Governor Signs Abortion Ban Into Law

PIERRE, S.D. - Gov. Mike Rounds signed legislation Monday banning nearly all abortions in South Dakota, setting up a court fight aimed at challenging the 1973
U.S. Supreme Court' decision that legalized abortion.

The bill would make it a crime for doctors to perform an abortion unless the procedure was necessary to save the woman's life. It would make no exception for cases of rape or incest.

Star Coffee Wars

Starbucks and the local coffee houses
(repost from 11/04)

Today I visited what has been called the Evil Empire or more exactly that "blood sucking corporation" I'm still not sure why the Empire is called that. OK, I sorta get it. Anyhow, the Empire was busy as it usually is on days like today. I looked for Darth Vader, but he was nowhere in sight. I didn't want to stand in line; so I went up the street to the local coffee shop.

The locals usually get to the Empire earlier or they start at the local shop. Actually there are five places here where you can get a caffeine fix like the one I needed today. I prefer the cappuccinos from the Evil Empire. Their coffee though sucks. That goes for their tea as well

At the local, I saw Darth Vader sipping on chamomile and jasmine tea. He had his mask off so he looked human. I had to laugh. He was just lounging

There is an economic philosophy, economies of agglomeration, that says business increases by opening stores that sell the same products within a certain radius. All five coffee shops do a great business.

The evil empire really hasn't harmed business for anyone. People go into the store name they remember and, overwhelmed by the line, move to one of the other four caffeine shops, all locally owned. They may even get a better cup of joe or discover the world outside of coffee.

Hmmm... Soothing tea, hot chocolate, root beer floats; remember them? I think I fall in love with floats every year. Floats are rememberences of being a child again.

So is Darth Vader the father of Skywalker? I guess it's kinda how you look at it; the chicken or egg argument. Do you believe Darth kicked off the trend of coffee shops? If so, then the local ones wouldn't exist?Hmmm... maybe not.

The bad news is the Empire has a plan to triple the numbers of stores they have and add some stores with drive-thrus. Yes, I said triple, encouraging an already lazy nation to become even lazier. The Empire grows more dominant.

Here's what's good about the Empire: consumers can buy Fair Trade and shade grown, read less bitter, coffee in the same, if not better, percentages that they can buy it at their local grocery. Local coffee houses don't know shade grown and fair trade coffee from a hamburger.

Does this mean Skywalker has no chance? Have faith young Jedi. The coffee house is an institution that goes back to the 1500s where ideas, arts; enlightenment have been exchanged. That will not stop.

The battle will be long, fierce and silent, where consumers hold all the power over the outcome.

Waiting on Cheap Suits

Cheap Suits is an unsigned band, and I can't image why other than possible lack of exposure. The band rocks some serious ska. Love their last album Canadian Idles.

The band has released a new album One Giant Leap. I ordered the CD about two weeks ago from a Canadian Music site, Maple Music. I am trying to wait patiently for it, but every day when I check the mailbox - no CD.

The scenario I imagine is this:

• Maple Music sends an email to Cheap Suits or their manager and tells them an order has come in.
• The band grabs the master DAT (do they have DATs anymore?) or CD off a shelf and burns my CD.
• The band then heads to Kinkos and makes a copy of the CD art cover.
• Once everything is pieced together, the CD is sent to Maple Music for delivery.

Am I being a thoroughly impatient American? Am I too used to Amazon.com or ordering from my local music store? Maybe this is the perils of ordering music from an unsigned artist?

Canadian Idles I ordered last year in December and figured the holiday season slowed down the three week delivery, but this order seems to be taking just as long.

I love this band. Truly I do. I want my CD!!!!!!

Someone send me some cheese with my whine.

Summer of 1993

I met Aditya on a Saturday night in the summer of 1993. He and Jack showed up at Maria's house. Aditya's first words to me, other than 'Hi', were that he had "graduated from Harvard." Aditya, of course, was joking, but when he showed me his real graduation diploma from Alabama, I didn't believe him.

During that summer after we met, five to ten of us would get together every Saturday night. It was our poker night. We bet pennies, played poker, listened to Danny and Andy playing guitar, and at least once during the night, we all would endure listening to Aditya enacting the song "Grease".

We created a bond that summer: Maria, Aditya, Danny, Aileen, Troy, Tomie and I. Some of us were friends before hand but at that time we became a group. All of us would get up in the morning and get breakfast, go to the park, etc.

That summer symbolized the pinnacle of our youth. That was also the summer our friend Julie got married. It was the first sign that we were adults, and it was time to move forward into our lives.

After that summer, we were a group no more, but the bonds forged then are still here now. Each of us has had tribulations and triumphs since then. We started to follow our dreams. We have grown up. Five have gotten married. Five have children. Three of us moved away. Five of us got grown up jobs. One of us has died.

There was only one of us that kept after the dream. The one that starts: "What do you want to be when you grow up?" That was Aditya. He kept after his dream. Some of us never seriously tried. Why? It would be too devastating to fail at that kind of attempt to reach the clouds.

Aditya, though, had the conviction to make his dream work. He never gave up on it even though many would have. His dream, to make movies, called to him over and over again. Aditya left once to New York and came back again after 6 months and a completed movie. Then he left again.

New York is not the kind of place to let you forget what you are there for. Aditya and New York were made for each other. This was the place where Aditya could go after the dream and improve his life.

You would think that Aditya's greatest triumph was living his dream. Maybe it was, but Aditya's greatest trial was learning to live sober. He achieved this dream even when some of us could not be with him through the lowest time. Aditya's commitment to recovery, however, drew his friends and family to lend him support when he needed it. Aditya would have done the same or more for us. His support to us was never faltering.

Sometimes when I am down and can't see the light, I remember Aditya calling me to say he was proud of me. I think that means more now than it did then. Those words and his faith in me, when I have lost faith, give me the strength to endure anything. I miss him.

Being a Teenager

I think I've forgotten what it is like. Teenagerness I mean.

My friend Jenn is part of the Big Sister program. Her little sister C is a smart, funny, awesome thriteen year old. C is the combination of toughness and exuberent childhood.

The toughness is what I have forgotten. In the adult world of passive aggressiveness and veneer politeness, C will remind you how to stand up for yourself. Not a bad reminder I think.

She is at the point of finding her idenity and owning it. Watching her do so is facinating. I learn something from C. She reminds me that I too have my own space and not to yeild it so easily to others.

I think that giving into all what C wants would be easy because she is young. However, doing so would be a mistake. Being a teenager is also about learning others' boundries as well as your own.

On Thursday night I, C, Jenn, her husband Gino, and Jenn's mom Joan were gathered at Jenn's house for dinner. C, Joan, Gino and I were in the kitchen. Gino was perparing the chicken while the rest of us talked.

C: This music sucks. Let's put on something different.
Joan: Gino is listening to this right now.
C: But I hate it.
Joan: But he enjoys it and we are going to listen to it now.
C looks at me: This music sucks. I hate this music.
Me: Learn tolerance girl.
C pouts and leaves the room to find Jenn.

Not ten minutes later C and Jenn were back in the kitchen. C was bouncing up and down about how much she wanted to see Ice Age 2. Music forgotten.

Jenn is a great big sister. She delights in C's company and is good at gently guiding her through the rough waters of teenagedom.

Roses are Red

I finally made the journey to see my mom in Brunswick this past weekend. The blizzard the weekend before prohibited me from going as originally planned.

Brunswick hosts an annual event in February called Longfellow Days. Brunswick celebrates the poet by hosting poetry readings around town and in the schools. Mom and I attended one such reading on Saturday.

I found it hard to sit through the poets' reading. Their words sort of drifted pass me. I find when listening to the written word, I am a better reader. Maybe that's why I enjoy reading blogs so much.

I write my experiences in this blog. This blog contains my thoughts about the world as it whirls around me, but if you want to see into my heart read my poetry.

Yes, that is an unabashed invitation. Prose can bring out a person's soul, but generally not my prose. I don't claim to be a great poet or even a great writer. I like writing and poetry is therapy.

My poetry contains my heart or my heart at a place in time. Because I write my emotions in verse, I generally won't post poems until some time has gone by and perspective has set in.

Shouldn't the essence of the heart be felt in music, lyrics, poetry, stories, photographs, paintings, and sculpture? Shouldn't a poet be showing his essence in his poetry?

Flat Stanley

I waited for a phone call from a boy for the first time since high school. And I was stood up.

Normally, a boy would be immediately forgotten. I would be challenged to remember his name or recall his face. However, this boy is forgiven.

What makes him so special? He's eight and my godson.

My godson is doing a project for school and I have been enlisted to help him. I was supposed to hear all the details last week, but I suppose homework, baseball, or something else got in the way. Ah well...

Flat Stanley arrived in the mail a few days later.

Flat Stanley is a kid that got squashed flat as a pancake. He's normal in all other aspects. Now that Stanley can fit into an envelope and be mailed, he has a penchant for traveling

My godson has colored up Stan the Man in readiness for a tour of the places that surround me. Stanley and I went to Maine over the weekend. (The picture is of Stanley at Land's End. )

Stanley and I are heading into Boston next.

When I nod my head and smile

I attended a charity dinner on an invitation from the host. The host is an extremely warm hearted lady who started a scholarship fund when her husband died of emphysema. I was glad to attend this event for her.

I arrived at the hall about thirty minutes before dinner was served. The host seated me at a table occupied by members of the same family. The family was affable and included me in their conversations. I enjoyed meeting them.

The matriarch, the word does fit her, of the family sat across from me. The grand dame told stories the night through. Her gaze wandered the table as not to exclude anyone from her words. She would asked for opinions and then cajole agreement with her smile.

I smiled.

I laughed.

I nodded my head and smiled some more.

The matriarch commanded attention and conversation, but her voice was low. I could not understand one word in three. I do not read lips and asking her to repeat herself would not have worked. So..

I faked my way through the evening.

At the end of the evening, I garnered a hug from the matriarch. She said I was excellent company.

Flat Ass Tired

No brain cells are functioning (see last post); so I leave you with this (jealousy on my part).
Good weekend.

What Your Sleeping Position Says

You are calm and rational. You are also giving and kind - a great friend. You are easy going and trusting. However, you are too sensible to fall for mind games.

What Does Your Sleeping Position Say About You?

Insomnia

I am beginning the insomniac cycle again. I don't know why. Just am. Got up at one a.m. and read a bunch of blogs, made some tea, snuggled down on the couch and watched the Winter Olympics repeat coverage. Finally I crashed out at four this morning.

A friend told me that I am not exhausting myself enough during the day and she's probably right. What kills me is that despite the insomnia, I wake up earlier than normal. The rest of the day.... CRANKY!

What distresses me in the daytime about my insomnia is I am normally a sound sleeper. I have slept through tornadoes, gunshots, and speakers blaring with music thrown up against my ears. I do not wake up for anyone or anything. Insomnia is counter to my sleeping nature.

Even though I sleep better in bed, when I have insomnia the couch is where I end up staying the remainder of the night. What puts me to sleep nine times out of ten is the TV. I think my insomnia proves the TV really is the idiot box. I am not thinking when I am watching TV therefore I fall asleep.

Shows that have routinely put me to sleep in the past are on the Boomerang network. Something comforting about watching the Super Friends, Quickdraw McGraw, or Scooby Doo puts me right to sleep.

Exploring Dora

I am so flattered. Or I was.

I received an email with the title Intrested in You. (I can ignore the spelling mistakes, sort of.)

Intrested in you,My name is Miss Dora,i saw your profile today at (http://waiterrant.net/?p=267) and became intrested in you,i will also like to know you the more,and i want you to send an email to my email address so i can give you my picture for you to know whom i am.Here is my email address (dora*******@*****.com) i believe we can move from here.I am waiting for your mail to my email address above.Miss Dora(Remeber the distance or colour does not matter but love matters alot in life
Yours Love Miss Dora

Love does matter a lot in life, but aren't we jumping the gun a little?

The Miss in Miss Dora had me thinking maybe this was a guy, my preferred romantic interest gender. Maybe he had read my post on the Transexpistols and thought I could handle a transexual. That could be an explanation for this love note.

Something about the email was a little off, other than the fact someone was seeking 'love' based on a comment I left on another blog site. Other than that!

I needed help to word my flattered refusal. I called in Aileen.

Aileen, the super investigator, Googled Miss Dora and I went back to the email. We both came up with the same result. Sorta.

Aileen found that Miss Dora is a spammer. She's known for it.

I, upon reexamining the email header, To: Anon@mous.com, decided that Dora is slut.


Date: Fri, 10 Feb 2006 14:50:47 -0800 (PST)
From: "dora ***"
Subject: Intrested in you,
To: Anon@mous.com

It's Tuesday!

After many years of eschewing the 14th of Feb, I am going to celebrate this Valentine's Day in this way:

It is my belief that love never dies. The people you love, you always love. Sometimes that love is encapsulated in a moment in time and circumstance. For today and all that follow, I send my love, whether past or present, to those that have shown me friendship, kindness, inspiration and love.

Mom, Mema, Pepa, Jean, Omer, Ed, Karin, Maria, Lewis, Austin, Sloane, Aileen, Danny, Ian, Iris, Maria, Jose, Nena, Gloria, Maria, Eddie, Little Eddie, Shannon, Jennifer, Gino, Troy, Patty, Erica, Kyle, Sean, Bethany, Vic, Alexis, Julie, Matt, Kaylie, Sarah, Kelly, Peter, Aditya, Mukta, Aalok, Mr. and Mrs. Chandora, Marnie, Todd, Anya, Cindy, Bob, Tomie, Mike, Skip, Linda, Dot, Robin, Brian, Kathy, Brad, Kris, Benu, Ted, Nancy, Kim, Jo, Denise, Dave, Erick, Patti, Barbara, Katie, Mr. and Mrs. Dyer, Walter, Rahul, Silva, Diane, Ron, Ruth, Bill, Glenda, Robert, Mason, Todd, Brian, David...

Happy Valentine's Day!

Digging Out

Realizations from a Blizzard

1. Maybe watching the Olympics is a good idea.
2. Spandex-clad joggers jog through snow, sleet, wind and rain. Coincidence same is said of postal workers? I think not.


3. Your house is your home... for at least two days.


4. Tea and hot chocolate are your best friends.


5. It's not the best time to realize that your snow boots and shovel are in the car.


6. Thermals really do work.


7. Shoveling has to be good exercise otherwise my thighs and biceps would not hurt so much... ouch.


8. Snow drifts that are taller than you, natural or from a snow plow, are impressive if not a little scary.


9. Funny stupid hats are no longer funny; they are ingenious devices that really keep your head warm.


10. You develop an appreciation for ski masks.


11. When walking in the cold, bring tissues. You'll know what I mean when you go inside somewhere.


12. When your car finally gets plowed out, remember to bring your license and money.


13. The radio station telling you that temp outside is colder than Fargo means nothing.


14. People are cooler when you shovel out together.

Surveys from my Psyche

Perhaps the weirdest part of my psyche is that I love to do surveys on completely random curiosities.

Brand New to the Surveying poll:

• How many colors has your pee or poop changed?

This question is thanks to the WVSR Feb 10th post.He says his kids' cereal will turn your poop cobalt blue. Cereal has changed over time. Don't think poop changes color put I know urine does.

Past surveys have included:

• How much change does it take a person to jingle when they walk? Do guys jingle more than women? How can guys sit on wallets? Shouldn't that be uncomfortable?

Survey says: Women tend jingle more because they tend to keep change over time. Wallets are not hard to sit on though it depends on what the guy has in there. I don't remember the exact amount of change it takes to jingle but it is a lot.

• Do you think kissing should be a contest on a sports channel?

Survey says: This was posed to a group of college students on my behalf. They answered no. I still think this one is worth a shot because every kiss is judged by the lips on the other end.

• Are men willing to buy tampons for women?

Survey says: About 50/50. Not so much because men are not willing to buy them but women tend to keep up with their own feminine needs.

• Do guys really poop at the same time everyday?

Survey says: Yes. Guys poop at the same time every day. Weird.

Pulled Post

Pulled my post today because the AP article that generated my sarcasm is no longer posted on Yahoo News. Can't find it.

Trepidation

I am going to visit my mom this weekend and I do so with some trepidation.

Let me start at the beginning. My mom holds the power of attorney for my grandmother who is in assisted living in Louisiana. My mom does all of my grandmother's finances, works with her attorney, checks her meds, talks with the doctors, and much, much more. She has been doing this the past two years.

My grandmother was one of the few women to enroll in med school when she was young (late 1930's). She met and fell in love with my grandfather, who passed six years ago, and gave up a career to become a wife and mother. A strong lady.

Recently, my grandmother fell and broke her pelvis. Since then my grandmother has given up control and has relied heavily on my mom. This has been a hard transition for all of us, but especially hard on my mom.

My mom visits my grandmother four to six times a year. (My mom retired to Maine.) Every time she visits, my mom spends nights pouring over paperwork and days doing errands for my grandmother. My mom has had a lot on her mind to say the least.

The stress that my mom is under was never so evident than at Christmas. My mom and I flew to Atlanta to spend the holiday with friends. We flew separately because of my work obligations. My mom flew out two days before me and I was to meet her at the hotel she was staying in.

When I arrived in Atlanta at ten p.m., I drove to the hotel. My mom was not checked in and no word was left as to where she was. I drove to my friend Maria's house knocking on the door as to not wake up the kids. She let me in with a confused look on her face.

M: Didn't your mom meet you at the hotel?

Me: No. No one was there. Why have you talked to her?

M: Yes. She said that she was going to meet you at the front of the hotel. She changed her mind and is staying at her friend's house. I have the number.

Me: She wasn't at the hotel. Nice of her to keep me informed. (I am normally sarcastic. More so after getting off a plane.)

M: Your mom said she was going to have the airline page you during your layover in Chicago.

Me: That's nice especially since I stopped off at La Guardia.

M: Eye roll. Call your mom.

There's more.

I had decided to drop off my rental early because for the rest of the holiday celebrations I would be with mom and she had her own rental.

Mom was to follow me to the airport to drop off the car.

She followed behind me the whole way.

Until....I turned into the rental place.

I stepped out of the car, got my receipt, and turned around.

No mom.

I waited and I waited.

And waited.

Then I called Aileen. She and Danny picked me up from the transit station. I left word for my mom at the house where we were staying and with Maria and with Maria's mom.

Two hours later my mom calls. She missed the turn off and couldn't call because her cell was dead. My mom figured that I would keep the car and no big deal.

Sigh.

I am grateful for my mom's faith in me and my ability to take care of myself, but...

You see the but there?

I love my mom. I know she's under tremendous stress and is in NO way normally like this. But...

Am I a bad daughter to have mixed emotions about going to visit her?

One of those Days

Ever have one of those days where no matter what you do you can't get out of your own way much less anyone else's?

I had just finished cursing the screw that stripped itself for no apparent reason. (adding this now as I still can't get stupid ass screw out of F***** wall) and giving it a rest, decided to get some errands done.

I went to the grocery store with the purpose of buying dishwashing soap. I just received a new dishwasher, for which I am overjoyed. I have been washing dishes by hand for four years. This has become my most hated chore to the point that I stopped cooking dinner and began microwaving pre-packaged foods instead.

As frequently happens at the store, I began shopping for everything else but the item I needed. Moving through the store cart in hand, every aisle I went down I seemed to have to move my cart out of someone's way. I said excuse me more times than I want to count.

The thing was I wasn't being dense. I moved my cart off to the side when browsing the shelves. I didn't stand in the middle of the aisle. However, every corner I came around and every aisle I went down there was someone coming the opposite way. Apparently I was in the wrong every time because of the pointed looks the person pushing the other cart would send me.

I had begun to move through the supermarket abjectly. About half way through my shopping, I started noticing that one lady kept appearing in the same aisles as me. She was one of the people I had said 'excuse me' to near the beginning of my grocery experience. I don't know why but I became desperate to avoid her.

I changed course and wound up in the flower section. Flowers would make me feel better. I picked out a pretty bouquet and resumed shopping.

Finally, I left the store packages in hand. I managed to remember the dishwashing liquid and some honey for the new chai tea I am trying. Not a bad ending.

Death to Life

I just received an email from one of my friends in California reminding me of a fundamental truth; don't wait to enjoy your life.

I met Brian at work. Brian, his wife Kathy and I became friends because of our shared good humor and love of baseball. Over the course of many work trips to California, I was grateful for their excellent company.

Brian and Kathy were scheduled to go to France last August. They canceled the two week trip due to the sudden illness of one of their closest friends. Their friend, Kelly, was rushed to the hospital for a mysterious illness that later claimed his life in September. (some friends may be struck, as I was, that we know someone with the same name.)

Brian was a co-executor of the will and was helping with the processing of Kelly's home when I saw Brian and Kathy in October on a two week business trip. The impact of Kelly's death has effected both Brian and Kathy tremendously.

As they talked about Kelly during my visit, I was reminded of my friend Aditya's sudden death three years before. I was also reminded to enjoy every minute you have with the people in life.

On my way home, I had a layover scheduled to see another friend of mine. When I saw him I gripped him in a bear hug, needing to affirm life. I never told him part of the reason for this ardent hello but somehow I don't think it matters. What matters is the acknowledgement. I made the most of the visit with my friend even though I was sick with hey fever.

When I got home, I made sure to acknowledge all my friends with similar affection. My friends know I love them but I needed to celebrate their lives. Sometimes I forget to do that taking my friends' existence for granted.

Thank you Kathy for the reminder that life is meant to be enjoyed and teaching me through your example.

Kiss Kiss Kisses

My friend Robin and I were talking about the stuff we enjoy most. Kissing is near the top or at the top of my list.

I like long slow kisses that last a lifetime. Kissing that leaves me breathless is the best. Short kisses out of the blue put a smile on my face. Secret kisses keep me warm for hours. I like going to sleep with a kiss almost as much as I love waking up to one. I love kissing in all its forms.

Kissing can be far more intimate than sex. In light of the intimacy factor, kissing for me is highly selective. (NOT more selective than sex.) Once I had kissed someone because I just wanted to know if the lips he was sporting tasted as wicked as they looked. Bad mistake. Why? 'Cause I had no real interest in the guy. Next time he went to kiss me I ducked and tried to control the disinterest on my face.

When I tell my guy friends this story, they look at me like I have grown an extra head. Girls get it though. Lesson learned here: you never kiss anyone you are not interested in. OK, like duh.

The subject once prompted me to do a survey. I asked friends how important kissing was in a relationship. The follow up question: does kissing become less important over time? Most surveyed said kissing was important in a relationship and that importance did not lessen much over time. (if you want exact statistics, you are odder than I am)

Again, if you think it's odd that I would take a survey, you could be right. However, a friend told me kissing was not very important in her relationship. I stood there with my mouth agape for.... what day is it? ... I still do not comprehend. So was born the survey out of this statement.

Kissing, to me, is better in a relationship. There always has to be that first kiss. Not to say that a first kiss is bad. First kisses can be very good, but are better when they happen with someone whom I've formed a connection with first.

I am going to go sigh for awhile in reflection.

Going Postal

Just when you thought the phrase "going postal" had left our lexicon, it's back!!!

A Post Office worker was bound and determined that we not take the US Postal Service lightly. Reminding us civilians that the Post Office is a damn hard place to work (I wouldn't want to do it), an ex-postal employee in Santa Barbara opened fire and killed six of her former coworkers according to an AP report.

Thank you un-named assailant for kicking it old school and re-edumacating all us. (...Sigh...)

Miss Taken Identity

Recently among some blogsites there has been a to-do about who we are as bloggers. Some of the blog sites I respect have responded* to some people's assumptions. Do the people who read the blogs really know the bloggers just from reading? To me this is silly, but what the hell, let's join in the fray and address the silly.

I can say with some certainity that some of the people who read my blog probably do know me because I have gotten down on my knees and marketed my blog to my friends. Please, Pleeeease read my errant writings about nothing and everything in particular.

Do I think I know the people whose blogs I read? With the exception of two blogs, the answer is a resounding no. I can say that the blogs belonging to Erica and Aileen have given me a better appreciation of the people that they are; enriching the moving picture I formed having known them.

What makes blogs great to read is the validation that we readers get in knowing we are not alone in our experiences, thoughts and ambitions. Two dimensional writings do not give us access to the more complicated gray areas of a person's psyche even if we try to convey that psyche through the written word.

A recent painful lesson was taught to me about the inaccuracies of translating a real connection to that of the nebulous world of email. I cannot imagine trying to make a real connection solely out of the gray areas in cyberspace.

There are many great blogs out there. I love reading them. These blogs stir my creative juices. A thousand ideas come to mind for my next post. I read some blogs and revel in how well written they are.

Read my blog and you will notice words left out of sentences, misspelled words, and even occasionally grammatical errors. I do my best and am constantly editing my posts. I must edit one post a bazillion times and still find errors. Editing is not my forte.

If you are reading this, and I thank you from the bottom of my soul for doing so, create your own blog if you are so inclined or if you already have a blog, leave me the link. I'll read it.

Which leads me to welcome a brand spankin new blogger to the world, my0p.

If you are not inclined to write, thank you again for reading.

* Mask of Anony -Blog-O
More Sound & Fury
Playing Nice
Blah

In addition: Erica has reminded me of another reason to read blogs: fall down, smile hurting, painful abdomen, tear swiping, drop to the floor ....laughter. Salut Erica !!!!

Transexpistols

It all began innocently. I was listening to Steve Jones on Indie 103 over the web while instant messaging my friend Brad.

Steve Jones was spinning, of all things, Journey. Then he started mocking:

'I will cram Journey down your throats until you throw up. All Journey. All the time.' Or something like that.

Jones named all the Journey songs. I think he had a list written down in front of him. Then he played another Journey song.

I laughed out loud. Why? This is Steve Jones, guitarist of the Sex Pistols, playing Journey with a vengeance. The mere thought is hilarious.

I relayed my amused state to Brad who then sent me to a Sex Pistols tribute band website: Transexpistols. (The site is a little out of date but worth a visit.)

God, don't ya just love it!!!

These gals... umhum... guys are among the most flattering forms of imitation that the Sex Pistols could receive. The band has favorable press reviews which is more than the originals achieved in the beginning.

What does the press know? Don't take it from me or their reviewers. Give them a listen.

Jones are you listening?


Sidenote: I have mentioned Indie 103 before in this blog. Rolling Stone calls this station America's Coolest Radio Station and the Blender calls Steve Jones the Punk who Saved Radio. Indie 103 has the creds to live up to the hype. Henry Rollins, Joe Sib, Dickie Barrett, and Crystal Method as radio hosts make my impressive list.

What's more impressive about this station are the DJ playlists. Pretty much anything goes. Check it out for truly good music radio. Everything from Wilson Pickett, Johnny Mathis, Patti Smith and the Pogues to The Specials, Radiohead, Disturbed and TSOL. Plus more mainstream artists such as; The Foo Fighters, The Police, Interpol, and Weezer in between. A communication corporation, Entravision, has finally done something right. Click here for show listings.

Ok, That's all the commercial time I have for today.

Take a Quiz - The Citizenship Test

Citizenship Quiz
Every day thousands leave their homelands to settle here in the land of the free. Before they become citizens they are required to take a citizenship test and score 80%. Could you pass this test if you took it today?

This quiz I got from goofball.com.

Try it out! Happy Friday!

Adventures in Dating Part 2

Recently I went on a blind date. I have been on exactly three blind dates in my life; this last one being the best. I have nothing against blind dates in general though perhaps I should. The two previous had been disasters, but I went on them willingly because the people who love me best are the ones that choose the dates for me.

The first blind date was with a guy that had ADD maybe even ADHD. At twenty-two, I knew nothing about ADD. My phone conversations with the guy had been great prior to the date. We decided to meet at a dance club on my suggestion. My friend and her boyfriend were to meet us later. (I know now that my choice of locations was poor to say the least. People with severe ADD cannot concentrate amid so much noise and movement.)

After dancing for a while, we stopped to get a drink and talk. I love conversation. With my date however, I couldn't get a word in edge wise. My date would change the subject in the middle of his own sentences and two words into mine. My head was spinning. Where was the guy who could hold a conversation for an hour on the phone?

The next set up (don't you love that term set up) was with a guy who had no conversational ability. On any subject.

Me: Do you like music?
Him: Yes.
Me: Who's your favorite band?
Him: I don't know.
Me: What do you like to do?
Him: Hang out.
Me: Really? Where?
Him: Here and there.

And so it went on any topic under the sun I could think up. While I was coming up with new subjects to introduce, my date picked his nose. These vague answers and an adversion to him touching me had me thinking that we weren't well matched. I got the feeling that he thought so as well.

It was later that I discovered he really liked me and wanted to go out again. Why? What would we talk about? I had exhausted the conversational spectrum with the exception of public cleaning of nasal orifices.

I mentioned to Maria being set up, by Jennifer, on this latest blind date. Maria knows all about my blind date history. She quizzed me about the guy. I told her I knew nothing really but it couldn't be worse than the others. Jennifer and her husband, Gino, would be with us for dinner guarding against complete mayhem if we were totally adverse to each other.

Maria then gave me the standard female advise. Wear this. Not that. (This conversation took place over the phone so descriptions were more lengthy.) Say this. Don't say this. Wear this...etc.

The date went well. Good guy. No odd incidents or strange personality quirks to report. We stayed up late and were a little well for the wine.

The next day I induced Jennifer to help play a practical joke on Maria. Lack of sleep must be my excuse.

Jennifer called Maria to express concern about my behavior the night before. I listened on the extension.

Jennifer: Maria, I know Michelle told you she had a date last night at my house. She didn't seem herself. She seemed distracted. I wouldn't normally call but I am concerned.

Maria: Uhmm.

Jennifer: Michelle made weird noises during dinner. She didn't even talk to her date.

Maria: Are you sure you are talking about Michelle?

Jennifer: I know. You should have seen what she was wearing. It was something my grandmother would wear.

Maria: Hmmmm. Uncomfortable noises coming from over the phone.

Jennifer: She kept interrupting the conversation. It was like she had ADD. I think she even picked her nose. I was embarrassed to have set her up with my friend.

Maria: That's not Michelle. She would not do that. You are describing dates Michelle has been on. Am I am being punked?

Both Jennifer and I began laughing uncontrollably.

Thank you Maria for defending me. Hopefully you are still talking to me.

Horror Movies

I can't do them. Honestly. I get too grossed out. Especially the ones that are really cheesy - the slashers. I try and watch. But these movies all have a thing crawling out of someone's mouth. The thing usually has a tail. I am going to vomit now. Could not watch snakes eat rats on the science field trip in third grade for the same reason.

The ones that are stupid I can do, sometimes. I can watch these thanks to an evening called Stupid Horror Movie Night when I was nineteen. Every Sunday, for that summer, a group of girl friends would get together at Maria's house. We would bring the requisite junk food. We would dish guys we were seeing or trash those we were breaking up with.

About one a.m., we would all grab our blankets, sleeping bags, etc. and settle to watch the classics like Truth or Dare, Basket Case, and my all time favorite It's Alive.

It's Alive gets my consistency in editing award.
One scene has a kid running.
As he runs, it's day.
It's night.
It's day again and he's still running.
A car chases after him.
Yet the kid still gets home first.

There's also a scene where a husband slaps his hysterical wife. Her head turns in the opposite direction of the slap. Now that's acting!

Contemplating my Thumbnails

I'm MELTING! I'm MEEEEEELLLLLLLTTTTINNNG!!!!

Ok. I'm not. Nor is my house though it sounds like it. Working at home is a curse. I can get a lot done, or I can watch the squirrels play in the showers of snow melting from the roof. Or I can post on my blog.

I went to CVS over the weekend. When do I not go to CVS? They had Easter stuff out. Wow!!! Over two months away and Easter is around the retail world corner? Alrighty then.

There is a new chocolate on the market. New is not the right word. (New to Hershey Kisses, maybe.) Hershey has introduced candy coated mini Kisses. Of course, of course!, I bought them.
I impulse buy anything wierd.

The candy is Hershey's attempt to make the new MM. Problem is you can't make a new MM. Can't be done. MMs are MMs. They are my initials. I love them. Ok I may love them even if they weren't my initials.

The new Kisses are not good. I am not a big chocolate Kisses fan, at least not the kind you buy in a plastic package at a store. Chocolate should be the serotonin fix that God intended. Chocolate that fixes my serotonin levels are Toblerone, MM's, Nutella, and the Almighty Godiva.

Yes, Europeans make the best chocolate but unless you are planning to visit some specialty shop or a visit to Europe, I am mapping out reasonable chocolate fixes.

Ah well. Back to work.

Music Day

I wanted to do a post about music for sometime. I started one a few months ago and stopped it cause as much as I love cheese the post was just a little too cheesy. However, I was listening to Josh Bell play violin and reminiscing about how much I loved playing viola in school. I just wish I loved to practice the instrument as much. Then Mopeychick posted her ipod song lists. Maybe now is the time to post about music.

I was sitting in horrendous traffic the other day; the kind of traffic that you can get out of your car, take a mile walk around, and come back in time to move your car an inch. This kind of commuting makes me glad I keep the car stocked with an endless supply of CDs. I pulled out a CD I made last March. I dub it my Rahul inspired CD because it has some hip-hop influence. Rahul is a friend who loves hip-hop. (Actually, most of my friends have some influence on my musical tastes especially if the friend introduces me to a new musical artist.)

The "Rahul" CD also contains a number of songs, also known as the cheesiest songs on the planet that just make me smile. These songs I think are my top 5 songs that will always bring a smile to my face.

Liz Phair -Banana Splits cover Tra La La La
The Buggles - Video Killed the Radio Star
Gene Kelly - Singing in the Rain
Me First and the Gimme Gimmes- My Favorite Things
Bon Jovi - Shot through the Heart (only because I used play this song when working at Sound Warehouse to watch this guy who was always trippin. His head would spin from corner to corner of the store as the sound bounced from speaker to speaker. It was hilarious.)

Listening to the CD started me thinking, cause what else do I have to do in hell traffic, about my other personal top 5 music lists. The top 5 songs that I dance to, the top 5 songs I relax to, the top 5 songs to drive fast to, etc... If this sounds strange, I can't help it. My thoughts just wander this way.

I believe we all have our top 5 lists playing in our head depending on personal circumstance because music tastes, like political and religious beliefs, conform to our personal experiences.

Think about the songs you like and why. Were you twirling a baton at the time you were listening to the Cars like Mopeychick? Breaking up with your boyfriend and now you can't stand the songs he listens to. Dancing at a club with a hot guy who made you feel fabulous and now the song that was playing is in your repertoire?

You get the picture. Music is a culmination of personality and life circumstances.

side note: my blog profile photo and inserted picture are by Paul Brent

How to Tell if You are on a Date

Ok that should be obvious, right?

Well, if you and the person have arranged to meet somewhere or he is picking you up, then yes the date is obvious. Sometimes it's not sooooo easy. At least not for me and I am truly oblivious to many things.

First non-date date rule: If he pays, you are on a date.

I met a guy about two years ago at a poetry group I attended. Nice guy. He and I would run into each other all over town. We could talk for ages.

Sounds great? What was the problem? I had no 'I am interested in you' chemistry on my side. I just wasn't attracted. Actually I thought I was making a friend or at least an acquaintance.

One night we met at the coffee shop and he was on the way to the movies and asked me along. Yes, I agree this should have been my first clue. Got to the movie and he paid. Again, a clue!! Truly people I am dense.

I didn't get a clue until he was dropping me back at my place. He suggested we sit on his deck with a glass of wine and watch the water. Sounds nice if you are with someone you want to be romantic with.

I made my excuses. Two friends of mine in California really had to clue me in that this was a date. Maybe it had been too long? I don't know...

Since then I've been on a few dates and thought I will now know when I am dating.

Second non-date date rule: If it looks innocent, it's not.

Over the holidays, my mom and I went to dinner at a good friend of my mom's. She and her son live there. You'd think I'd know if two moms and two kids of the opposite sex are involved in an activity especially dinner that I'd be wise? Uh, no.

The son greets me and immediately corners me in conversation. I was a little taken back . The two moms were not joining in our conversation despite my best efforts to include them. Second or third clue?

The son and I went for a walk around the neighborhood to look at Christmas lights. On the way back, he hesitantly says, "I don't know how to say this.." This was my first clue. "... It sucks that you live so far away (We were in Atlanta. I live in Boston.), but I'd like us to email each other. "

I know I'm on a date at this point and he's not a bad guy. Again not terribly attracted. I agree to write because there is no danger on my side and honestly don't think there is any on his side.

Over my dating life, with the beauty of hindsight, there were plenty of times I should have known I was on a date. I have not been perceptive to say the least. In my defense I do know when I am attracted and when it's mutual. Hey, I am getting better.

Holysmoke Bat....BAT

I innocently was wasting time on the internet last night downloading songs (ie: Nena's 99 Red Balloons, Frank Sintatra's Blue Skies, and Dropkick Murphys' The Gauntlet) when I saw out of the corner of my eye a shadow flit by. I ignored it thinking it was my hair falling out of my ponytail, again. Then, I saw the shadow again.

A bat was flying up near the ceiling. I screamed, "Aggggggggggggggggggggggghhhhh.", and ran for the door leading to the living room. As I turned to shut the door, I could see the bat airborne on the far side of the room. His, could be her, wingspan looked enormous and he was flying straight toward the doorway where I was. I accidentally had showed him an escape route.

I closed the door and heard a small thud.

Adrenaline up, I realized I needed to call the fire department. Our local fire department will safely remove bats and set them free outside. (Bats are good for the ecosystem, feeding on insects. Plus they are cuter (cute being a relative term) than spiders.)

However I was not thinking fast enough. The phone! I left it in the other room with the bat.

Sigh.

Thinking that bats might be sound sensitive, I went to the stereo and turned it on pushing the volume up. About 20 minutes later, I got brave enough to open the door and inspect the situation. Armed with a rolled up yoga mat, I entered the room.

Slowly I went. Hitting the doorway and walls just inside the room with the mat. No bat. I made a grab for the phone. Still no bat. I sat at the still active computer and looked up bats. My vigilance was sharp; head turning every few seconds and yoga mat at the ready.

The bat site, http://www.cccoe.k12.ca.us/bats/house2.htm gave me a sense of hope that the bat had found the way out. (My suspicion is that the bat came down through the chimney. Bless his little posing as Santa Claus heart.) As I could still not detect the bat, I relaxed slightly.

I left the room leaving the light on and closing the door just in case.

This morning I opened the door with rolled yoga mat still in hand eyeing the room with caution. The bat was there. He was folded up in a compact square shape hanging from the blinds in the window partially hidden by the curtain.

I quietly closed the door and called the fire department. The phone was still in the living room from the night before.

Three firefighters showed up on the doorstep five minutes later with a net and a pole thing. All three of them went into the room with the bat closing the door after them. I could hear them discussing how to get the bat down. After a few minutes, one came out and requested a chair to get closer to the bat. Apparently the bat was not cooperating with their efforts. Two minutes later, the firemen left with bat in hand, well in net.

I collapsed on the couch and turned on the TV. Van Helsing, movie about Dracula, was on. Is someone trying to tell me something?

Mile High Up

Update: congratulations Brad!!! Even though New England turned in a somewhat sloppy performance , the Broncos were on top of their game. Bailey's interception was spectacular.

Broncos goal: Super Bowl and don't look back!! (In this case I believe the team that defeats you should push for and win everything!!)

It's GO time in the NFL. Eight teams remain. The Denver Broncos are playing the three time Super Bowl champions, the New England Patriots, in the divisional playoffs. Yet, the Pats are the underdogs going into Mile High Stadium. The Broncs have not lost at home this season.

I am not a big football fan. I barely watch the playoffs. I am more the baseball person. Have been since I won baseball tickets for getting straight As in elementary school. However this is football season and ever since I learned a little bit about the game, I have been a Pats fan.

Last year at this time, I was talking to a coworker, Brian, about a software system and was referred to Brad for a particular issue. Brian issued a forewarning that Brad was grumpy because the Broncs were out of the playoffs. Of course me being me, I immediately called Brad to check out the state of said grumpiness.

My concern today is for my friends in California. Could the usually unflappable Brad be a serious grouch for the remainder of the football season or worse yet, could he be unbearably smug for the rest of the year? Will Brad rub the Broncs helmet sitting on top of his desk for good luck only to bury it in a drawer? Or will Brad start carrying the helmet to all his meetings and conference calls?

Only time, approximately 72 hours, will tell.

Food for Thought

I have finally shaken a head cold that has incapacitated me a couple days over the past two weeks. On those days I had the painful lesson re-taught to me that daytime television is incredibly boring. I could not concentrate on reading. Sleeping was a good alternative. I kept the TV on to help me go to sleep faster. I could only sleep on the couch because the couch allowed me to sleep in an upright position letting me breathe better.

While hovering on the edge of sleep, I heard a guy on some show announce the segment on the latest workplace fashions. His next statement actually woke me with laughter. 'Alright. Let's bring out the grossly underweight models now.'

This statement got me to thinking about the realities of body image. If people in our country are becoming more and more obese, why are models and fashion projecting underweight norms? The two have a symbiotic relationship I am sure. (I am too lazy / busy to go look it up.) Both images are unhealthy and trying to achieve one image can propel a person into the other.

My friend, Maria, is on a diet. (ok considering it's January, who isn't?) She is on a medically supervised diet and exercise program. Listening to what she has learned about the way our bodies handle food and the nutrition food provides leads me to wonder how we as a nation became obsessed with body image and then food.

What triggered it? Fast food? Technology? The increasing sedentary nature of the workforce? All of these factors, plus a few more, combined?

la dolce Divas have blogged their frustration and have come up with a simple but effective suggestion on the dieting resolution season. But does our obsession with body image seem to be increasing? I know I could list ten things I don't like about my body without hesitation. Most of my friends can do the same.

Frankly I am tired of looking at my hips and wishing they were not so curvy. I want to focus on being healthy. I rather work on getting my cardiovascular system in order than think about the caloric intake of anything I ingest.

Diver Down

David Lee Roth has come to Boston.

There seems to be a lot of artists out in radio land shifting their talents from one forum to another. Steve Jones and Dickie Barrett are examples of musicians combining their talents and personalities by spinning music over the California airways, Indie 103, and doing it well.

Boston's WBCN added Roth into the morning slot rotation filling the gap where the Howard Stern Show used to be before he left for satellite radio.

When I say filling the gap, I mean it. Roth has nothing new. His program consists of his glory days of yore and the remnants of Sterns' non-satellite audience. Roth's time slot is reduced to an imitation of Stern radio.

Maybe I just kick it a little too old school but Stern has also been putting his genre out there for awhile now. Don't get me wrong Stern is smart and uses his degrading wit to entertain. Just not my form of entertainment. But then again I don't think his style hits my demographic, the female one, too often. So live and let live.

I was a little excited when I heard Roth was coming into the Boston radio market hoping to hear a fresh spin on the world coming through the airways. However, hearing the competition, I am more than happy keeping FNX dialed in. The Swasey morning show also offers not much new; however, the personalities on air are funny and more importantly the station actually plays music in the morning!!! Not new, but refreshing.

I am going to keep searching for good radio. Right now I am liking The Lock Up on Radio 1. I am just not sure how to define good radio, but I'll know when I hear it.

Problem Pics

When I see a great picture, I fall in love with it. I like seeing how other people interpret the world. I've seen great photos out on the web. Photos that are truly artistic. *

As the photo here shows, I know I am not the best photographer in the world. Heck, I usually don't even take pictures when I go someplace. Yet, every now and then, I want to capture the moments that are important to me.

I want to know if my disposable camera attraction is contributing to my inability of taking a good picture or am I just horrible.

Last year I bought an a digital disposable camera. If you used the camera to take pictures at a certain range, everyone appeared to gain 50-100 pounds. I bought the camera to snap my godson's birthday party. My pictures ended up with these ga-enormous kids running around. Trust me the kids were healthy kids.

The next camera I bought was the NEW ZOOM disposable camera for this past Christmas. The pictures were horribly grainy. I tried to get the HP software to improve them, but really, bad can't be made great when bad is your starting point.

I sent the pics to relatives and godparents of the kids with my humblest apologies hoping that capturing the moment would be worth it.

*To see gifted photographers check out: http://uaebelle.blogspot.com/ , http://www.ahagraphics.com/home.html , http://www.majestic-photography.com/ . These are a few photo sites I like or have been directed to by other bloggers.

Looking Back

I know it's cliché to look back over the old year and look into the new one. Normally I don't engage in cliché, at least I hope I don't without being comic. This past year, however, was full changes for me, and I can't help look back without some wistfulness and some joy. Two thousand and five was year that my friends and I have talked about as good and bad.

The year started out in normality. I traveled, for work, to Irvine, California for three weeks right after the dawn of the New Year. I had one planned flight out over a weekend for my grandmother's eighty ninth birthday party. The next weekend I was to go to Disneyland with some friends. It would be my first ever Disney park experience.

During the week I found out that my best friend's grandmother was succumbing to cancer. Nena died that week and I attended the funeral that weekend. (My best friend, Maria, and her family are my family at heart.) Nena was the maternal heart of the de la Torres. Her loss is still being felt. Already the year was a mixture of celebration and pain.

In February I visted London and Paris to train employees on new software. I met up with an old friend, Peter, in England; a man I like to think of as my wise friend. He wears wisdom around him like most people do clothes. I also took a day and saw Paris. Well a part of Paris. I loved and treasure that day. In March, I blogged my experiences in San Diego and Mobile. March was a truly good month. I gained confidence and calm with the events that took place then.

Later that spring I flew down for Sloane's birthday party. Sloane turned a year old and is Maria's second child and my godson's sister. I had renewed contact with a person I had met the year before. I met him in Atlanta in May for the birthday party and began to realize how to enjoy life again as I had not done for several months.

Unfortunately life became a whirlwind shortly after. During the summer I faced unexpected medical news that sent me into a tailspin and shoved my new found knowledge aside. I retreated from life a little. I also held onto, probably too tightly, to my friends. Luckily they helped me through the roughest parts of that summer and the events that ensued through the rest of the year.

Fall and Winter have not been especially wonderful except for a few bright events that have taught me more about myself. I have learned when to work on and when let go of events that change me. I learned this through my friend I renewed touch with earlier in the year. I also learned friends take all shapes and forms. I have a revived creative drive thanks to some people who inspired me through their own blogs. (Thank you Aileen, and Erica.) A new love of the outdoors came to me this fall, and last month I remembered what Christmas is through children's eyes.

A New Years call came from a friend who I have not seen for about a year. Maybe she is renewing and reflecting too.

High Fructose Corn Syrup

Ever look at the labels on your food?

Go ahead. Look through your pantry and fridge. Look specifically for corn syrup.

IT IS IN EVERYTHING!!!!!!!

Miss sugar? I do.

I started revolting against corn syrup by looking for sugar instead in the products I buy. Why revolt? Well, I like my food to be food. I am not overly stuffy about processed food versus natural food; though I think it's a good idea. I just hate the idea of something being forced on me.

When I was little, say six to ten, my mom made homemade ice cream. She did not put in high fructose corn syrup. Believe it or not, I loved her ice cream more than what I can buy today. Nor do I love my hot coco or bread or for that matter cottage cheese more today than I do yesterday. All of these products plus a bazillion more contain corn syrup. Check out your ketchup, mustard, soda, frozen food, etc...

Check out the granola bars: corn syrup, sugar, high fructose corn syrup, egads....



Corn syrup is a gazillion dollar industry because sugar, sugar?, is too expensive. Let me tell you what's too expensive; my heating bill in winter. Damn $250-$300 a month. But sugar? Come on.

About Five Things

I am trying to think of five things most people don't know about me as I have been tagged by mopeysouthernchick. I admit it is difficult.

1. I love puns.

2. People are fascinating to me. I don't know if that makes me an arm chair psychologist or sociologist, but people are a puzzle I like to work on in my mind. I don't think there is an ultimate answer to why people are the way they are at least not until we know how the other 80% of our brains work. Sometimes I think that we are about theories and no definitive proofs that answer our makeup.

I have rarely met someone that I truly dislike. That said, I find it hard to get close to people. I am an introvert especially in crowds. With people I know and one on one I seem extroverted. When I meet someone and a barrier doesn't exist, I am amazed that I have made a friend or at least someone I will keep in contact with.

3. Laughing and smiling are like breathing to me. I sometimes think that I have been put on this earth to make people around me smile. There used to be this guy at work who could be a bit mopey and glum. When others would tell me about it, I would play a practical joke on him. Something small, but enough when I heard the aggggh, I would stand up and see him grinning. So if there is something I hate, it is to see good people glum. Any good people.

4. Clouds are fascinating. Like Eeyore's cloud painting, clouds are amazing to look at. I have flown a lot, and I never am tired of looking at the clouds out the plane window. Clouds form rivers and valleys, sometimes oceans that meet great mountains. There could be canyons in the clouds and no river to form them. Clouds make mists and fogs of eerily magical lands with no creature to walk them. A sunset or sunrise light these lands brilliantly, rich in color. Hues of reds and purples fire the sky and ease over the clouds.

5. My family is spread out across this country. My friend Aileen and I went on trip cross country and I had a relative in almost every state that we passed. We headed along the Southern route from Georgia to Nevada. Having relatives this far ranging means I have the opportunity to see a lot of country but I do miss having family near at hand.

Thanks Erica!!

Airports

Boarded a plane last night and now am in Atlanta. I had one stop over in LaGuardia, NYC. Now I feel qualified to rate airports.

In my former job, I was required to fly a lot. I have been in many airports. I believe I have hit all the major domestic ones; Chicago's O'Hare, Atanta's Hartsfield, Boston's Logan, LA's LAX, San Francisco's SFO, Dallas- Fort Worth, San Diego, Denver and now LaGuardia. Ok, that's the majority of my airport travels. If I left out a major airport like JFK, it probably means I haven't been there.

My judging is unfair, I think, 'cause some of these airports I have only been transient in. O'Hare is one of my favorite airports. Yet, I have only transferred planes in O'Hare. Never had to wait on security lines or deal with parking etc... DFW, is my least favorite and have only transferred planes there.

I do judge all airports on the brightness and cleanliness of the waiting areas. I also judge on bathrooms and shops. O'Hare becomes another favorite of mine for these reasons. Maybe not the cleanest of the bunch but there are bathrooms every couple of gates. The bathrooms are all automatic. Seatcovers on the toilets automatically rotate with a wave of the hand in front of the sensor. Shops are also every couple of gates. Can get Advil, coffee, and a bagel with little walking. DFW is too dingy for me. I hate the train from terminal to terminal.

I find it strange that there is no standard among security. For instance in Orange County's John Wayne airport, there are foot sensors there that test if your shoe will set off the alarm. At LaGuardia, they look at the width of your shoes to see if you should take them off. In Boston, if your shoes are tennis shoes you most likely do not have to take the shoes off. LAX you have to take them off - no question.

Maybe it depends on your TSA agent.

At Logan, Boston, a TSA agent was deciding whether they should confiscate a plastic toy I was bringing to a friend's child. The toy was held in the box with plastic ties. There where no sharp edges or objects on the toy even a plastic knife, sword, etc. The TSA agent searched it for what seemed 10 minutes and in reality was maybe two. When he finally gave me back the toy, another agent came over from another security station and made a crack that I shouldn't be allowed to have it.

However, Boston's TSA agents missed a metal file attached to my finger nail clippers and LAX's picked them up and confiscated them.

A girl and I were talking in LAX about what TSA agents do with all the things they confiscate. The girl I was talking to was a smoker and had her lighter confiscated numerous times. She indicated one lighter was rather valuable. We both agreed someone probably divvied up the good stuff and the rest was thrown away.

In Atlanta there are smoking booths inside the terminal / gate areas. Are matches any more safe than lighters?

White Christmas

Yesterday I was out with a friend, Jennifer, Christmas shopping. When we stopped for lunch, she told me that she had been invited to see White Christmas at the Wang Theater. My friend rolled her eyes and looked at me; "A musical! A Christmas Musical!". Another eye roll.

I LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOVVVVVVVVVE White Christmas; one of my all time favorite Christmas movies. Will watch it every Christmas with the same excitement other people watch It's a Wonderful Life.

While under the shock that she had never seen White Christmas or heard of it, I told her that it was not a musical (not an opera) that every word was sung. White Christmas had an actual plot and the story line was quite heart warming. (sorry Jen - still not over the shock that you didn't know this movie).

By the time I finished telling her the story behind the movie, she was, not eager, but not dreading going to the Wang.

Think I made a musical convert?

Bye Music Bye

I am throwing out my cassettes.  Throwing them out is the hardest thing I have to do.  I feel like they are my first love in some way even though I haven't paid much attention to them in years.  I've been picking up each one and examining it for value.  The ones I miss the most will be getting a replacement CD.  So far the Candyskins, Todd Snider and Iggy Pop have made it into the CD replacements.  These bands I still can jam and be ridiculous with.  I am still in love with them.

The others?  Well, the other cassettes I am still drifting through.  Drifting in the odd remembrance of a favorite memory.  I have a lot of cassettes whose artists names most people have never heard of and probably never should.  Some are quite cheesy, and I am big fan of cheese.

But I loved them at one time and I love them still, in a way.  Love them for that memory of "once upon a time".  Those cassettes are then ones that will be tossed. No CD will replace the memory, and like many childhood toys I won't play them again.

Hypothermic Joggers

This morning the temperature outside was six degrees. Instead of walking to get coffee as I normally do, I warmed up my car and drove. On the way, not one, not two, but three joggers were out.

I have to ask, why?

I admire their commitment. I applaud it. But the thought of stepping out in spandex (spandex alone would scare me) and a sweatshirt in single digit weather is enough to drive me further under the covers.

I love New England. I love where I live, but ya'll when it comes to weather these people are nuts.

I've mentioned the joggers in Winter, but the swimmers in Summer are just as insane. They willingly go into freezing water that will never warm up the entire time they are swimming. My first summer I dove into a swimming pool that contained freezing water. I was doing laps like crazy. The water never warmed up. After thirty minutes of shivering and exhaustion beginning to set in, I got out and swore never to go back in.

It must just be me. I grew up swimming in Gulf of Mexico on the Florida beaches. I'm biased towards water that doesn't demand you swim like a maniac to keep warm but invites you dive in to see what water really holds.

7 AM December New England

It's the most wonderful time of the year. Well second most. Really third or fourth most. The baseball winter meetings ended yesterday. While the world, the northern hemisphere, is getting colder, talks have taken place about the boys of summer. The trades that take place during this vital week are enough to get me pumped and salivating that baseball season could be around the corner. Ok, it's a long, cold, snowy corner, but who cares?

S'muffin? While out walking around town, I saw a mix in a local shop for s'muffins. (All the shops in town, because we are a tourist town, sell a variety of edibles with their regular wares.) S'muffins are the cross between scones and muffins. Why you may ask, I certaintly did, would we want as the package put it "a scone that tastes like a muffin"? Are we really in that dire need of new ideas? Shaking my head in laughter.

The first real snow in Mass. this year is falling now. I just got in from moving my car to a Municipal Lot for the Snow Emergency that is coming. Snow Emergency simply means, "park your car off the road so the road can be plowed."

Where I came from, Atlanta, snow emergency means, "The sky is falling! The sky is falling! Big flakes come down from the sky with ice and we must take everything out of the grocery store so that we can wait out the 8 hours it will take for the ice to melt." Here you can still catch the 8:00 pm show while the N'oreaster dumps 20-36 inches of the white stuff over two days. To be fair New England has plows and Atlanta does not. New England gets snow and Atlanta gets ice.

The friend asked me if winter was tough for me. I told her that four degrees is tough because I walk around with my shoulders hunched all the time which makes my neck hurt, but the snow is ok especially first thing in the morning.

De Nile

I was wondering if this post should end up on my rant page, but the more I thought about it, the more I understood that I had posts for both pages.

I was watching a documentary on the three major monotheisitic religions in the world. I began to wonder my old wonder of how long was it going to take for people to learn. These religions have been fighting and oppressing for centuries. (this is where the vent comes in) Has all this fighting worked? Are the people of these religions any further to winning anything?

I also wondered what kept the leaders, the people, whomever, going? A passion. A belief that somehow someway something will be achieved.

I understand this. I have felt at times that I have something so rare and wonderful that working towards, fighting (verbally not physically) for, reaching out in someway for whatever it is that I have can't be bad.

Well. I'm wrong. At least in the sense about the way I go about achieving what I want to achieve. I'm not wrong in feeling how I feel but my manner of expression could be better. Why did I not realize this until watching a documentary?

De Nile.

That damn river in Egypt has done it again. Can't give the river all the credit. I am a past master at navigating this particular river.

Being dazzled by your feelings is nothing new. Most people get a honeymoon period to bask in new feelings before the sun comes out of their eyes and they get to choose whether to deepen their feelings to realness or walk away.

Religion, and not just religious fervor, dazzles so many people to their core more often than love does. The sun is constantly in the eyes with no opportunity to see.

Anyhow I understand the religious conflict better now. I understand myself a little better now. I still wonder why people can't find peace and see how much they have in common more than they are oppossed.

Ballet

On the way to yoga this morning, I saw a deer run across the highway. The deer was a young male with antlers. My first thought was, "Oh my God! Don't get hit. Don't get hit!".

The deer bounded, leaped, flew over our five lanes of traffic. As he came to the median, my thought process had changed. My mind was singing, "Go. That's it! Fly!". I watched the deer leap a lane and half then move effortlessly over the next five lanes of opposing traffic until he disappeared safely into bordering woods.

The deer didn't even seem to mind the cars.

Now I think, " I saw magnificence personified in a deer. I witnessed unlimited bounding. Wow. "

UPS Deliveries

I ordered a printer recently. The UPS man just came by to deliver it. I, unfortunately, was still in my PJs. ( I work at home these days.)

The doorbell rang and I gave a yell of "oh shit!". Nevermind the tracking # HP gave me says that the package will arrive tomorrow.

I scrambled to get into my clothes. My DAMN FUCKING bra would not clasp. It claspes when I am not in a hurry but wouldn't fucking clasp now. Had to drag the clasps around the front to work them. I pulled on a shirt and jeans and ran madly to the door.

There was a little sticker on the window informing me of the next drop-off. The UPS guy was pulling down the street. I ran out waving my arms; note I did not have shoes on and it is raining. I see the brown van turn the corner. My heart sank. Then he backed up. He'd seen me!!!

Alas, no. He backs up, and then I wait for him to turn back down the street. Nothing. I figure he is making another delivery. He has backed up into a dead end and will turn back down my street as soon as he completes his mission. I'll catch him when he does.

So I wait under the overhang outside my home.

And I wait.

Eventually my ears pick up the sound of a truck being started. I tense wth excitement.

The truck passes down the other street.

Bastard.

Conversations with Retail Sales: Dooming Walmart

I went to the Body Shop yesterday as I was out of moisturizer and my skin is flaking already from the cold. Do you know that when I was in Atlanta I had oily skin? Now I need moisturizer. Aggggghhhh. Dammit WINTER.

Oh well. While in the store the sales assistant and I started talking about the after Thanksgiving shopping hell and the internet. More people could shop the internet as opposed to risking their neck or someone's to buy Aunt Essie a scarf. Or maybe shop at local boutiques.

This might seem odd for the sales lady to be saying because the store I was in was at the mall. Hey, retail people are human too. The retail consumers are the ones that are not human. You try working retail. Try working retail during a holiday. Trust me. Working retail and becoming disgusted with the general consumer was enough for me to vow to never again work in a job where I had to deal with Joe Shmoe at the ripe old age of twenty one. If I did I knew I would hate the world at large if I continued to deal with people wearing their worst face; the consumer.

The conversation changed and the sales lady mentioned Wal-Mart. She tried really hard, honest she did, not to make a face. She just couldn't pull it off. I told her not to worry. I hate Wal-Mart. I refuse to shop there.

I have many friends that refuse to shop at Wal-Mart. My friends have very good social - political reasons for not going in that store. I agree with their reasons. You probably know these reasons. I'll not reiterate. If you don't know, then check out: http://www.1worldcommunication.org/Walmart.htm or my favorite http://www.intellectualpoison.com/WalMartisPureEvil.html .
Then watch http://www.walmartmovie.com/ .

All these reasons are sound and are cause to choose carefully where you shop. However, my reasons not shop at Wal-Mart are aesthetic. The stores are dirty, not well lighted, and completely disorganized. Nothing is intuitive about shopping in Wal-Mart. You will never be able to find anything in this store. (If you can find stuff in there, you've shopped there too much.) There is a science to laying out a store. Wal-Mart chose a layout that is conducive to Wal-Mart not the consumer.

That's my point really; the reason I don't shop at Wal-Mart. Wal-Mart treats people like consumers not customers. Wal-Mart forgets that one of the tenets of business is customer loyalty, gained by numerous factors that include customer service. Low prices only guarantee loyalty when someone else cannot meet your price. (Now go check out the sites above) Why should I shop at a place that does not care about my business? Exactly, I shouldn't.

Well, the sales associate whom I was speaking with gave me a scary tidbit of news. Wal-Mart is planning to open a bank.

Slapping my hand to my forehead...

Thanksgiving, Kristna, and Harry Potter

For me Thanksgiving dinner is all about casseroles. No, I'm not a vegetarian. I just love the casseroles. I know this is not what Thanksgiving means, but I look forward to the green bean casserole, the sweet potato soufflé, and whatever other veggies can be combined in some magical, maybe not so healthy, concoction to be served at this stuff yourself silly meal. This year especially I was looking forward to the comfort food meal of all meals.

In the effort to get healthy and lose weight, my mom joined a group that taught her what it means to become a vegan. My mom encourages me to say that she is not a vegetarian because she is not sure that she will maintain it, but my mom is certainly sticking by it so far.

This Thanksgiving the magical casserole was vegetarian chili and whole wheat cornbread, mashed sweet potatoes with orange juice (do not attempt this at home), and raspberries for dessert. I stuck to the chili and the dessert which were delicious.

Mom and I spent Thanksgiving quietly. Called relatives and wished them happy. It snowed making being in front of a fire with spiced cider comforting. We thought about getting up and facing the mad shoppers on Friday (the mall in Maine opened at 1:00 am), but being the lazy ,we like sleep sort and have never gotten up that early to shop, we missed the saving insanity.

We did go out to see the Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire movie Friday night as both mom and I are fans. Recommend this one.

Came home on Sunday to see the lighting of the Christmas tree in Newburyport's, my small city by the sea, downtown. It was a grand occasion and a first for me in Mass. I always miss it because of extreme forgetfulness. This year I happened to see the crowd and was reminded.

My town's lightening of the tree is a not the hoopla that marked the past lightings in Atlanta I've been to. One year my friends and I went and watched the final lighting of the tree at Rich's. The tree would be lighted elsewhere after that 1991 Thanksgiving. We watched the lighting and then danced in the streets with the Harry Kristnas. That's a Thanksgiving weekend I'll never forget.

Newburyport does the lighting a little differently. Santa comes into town by boat and then is paraded around town in his sled. He meets up with various charchters. This year Snoopy, Peekachu, Felix the Cat, and Minnie Mouse met Santa in the town square. An odd assortment of friends to be sure. They rally the crowd of about 200 into Christmas carols and then the tree lights.

Not the Kristna Thanksgiving but a nice one.

Sex Epidemic

Today the news at 11:00 p.m. will air a story about all the people in the world that have on-line sex. My God, on-line sex is a freakin epidemic. Who knew?

This news story will teach you to recognize the signs. This newscast will teach viewers how to catch and prevent this phenom.

My god -- the horror of it all...

Snort.

Must not laugh, but it's just too hard not to.

Got to love the local news.

Cookie Dough Hell

Today has been a bad day; the bad day from hell. A cookie dough day. The day where cookie dough is all you should /need to eat. I am an emotional eater. And the last two weeks have been a doozy. Doozy meaning everything came at me that could come at me. EVERYTHING. Personal, professional, emotional. God Damn weeks.


The final straw was my prescriptions. (Yes I know I sound old or geeky, but I am the one who has to live with the pills since I was a kid.) I went to get asthma meds today and the weenie heads gave me a prescription that I did not ask for. An older one that apparently took the place of the med that I needed and asked for.

I threw a tantrum. Threw a shoe against a wall in my home. Actually it was both shoes. Felt good. Haven't thrown anything in 10 years much less had a tantrum and become the whiny bitch of a mess witnessed by me today.

Too many bad events have taken place consecutively, thank God not concurrently, for anything as stupid as a wrong prescription to send me over the edge and right into cookie dough.

Feel the need to barf. Excuse me.

Amerikan Passport by Reed Paget

An independent film, released in 1999 with commentary overlaid in 2001, Amerikan Passport takes the viewer around the world with Paget through 1989-1991, where the world changed on all fronts; Tiananmen Square, re-unification of Germany, Gorbachev's perestroika and dissolution of the communist party, Iraq's invasion of Kuwait, the first Gulf War, El Salvador, the abolishment of South Africa's apartheid, etc...

The incredible reality in this documentary is accompanied by a surprising candid commentary from Paget that is lacking in most of today's journalists. Paget lets his subjects make his points. He laughs at the intolerance of the prejudiced by balancing the interviews with the eludidating intelligence of the people in the heart of change. He also laughs at himself.

Paget's travels take him to 20 different countries in one of the most politically charged times asking if the US is doing right or wrong in these countries, or sometimes Paget lets the camera simply watch the events taking place. The answers and observations might surprise viewers of this film.

I won't keep spinning this film in my own direction, but I will strongly urge people to watch it. If you can't catch it on the Independent Film Channel, try and order it. I warn you Netflix won't have this film.

Interview with Paget: http://www.indiewire.com/people/int_Paget_Reed_990813.html