Knocking Some Sense

I'm getting the bedroom ready for our littlest grandson, Nugget. Unpacking his and his brother's suitcase and readying the space for his "binky-time" as it's called.

I stand up quickly from the nightlight I was plugging in and cracked my head so hard on a little overhang in that corner of the room that I literally saw stars. I have a goose egg now that I'd love to call the Gray Goose, but I do color my hair so ha! That, just now, reminded me of a childhood nickname I had in school that I was not so fond of. Goosey. Because I've often been silly and annoying? Probably. I do remember HATING that name. Too sensitive always.

When I was in my 20s and dating my wasband my nickname was Dizzy. I did love that nickname, but there is a pattern emerging? Admit it girl. You can be a goose. Work in progress always and forever apparently.

I was seeing a therapist a couple of years ago and while telling my story (get this - I felt odd monopolizing the conversation - during my own therapy! I don't seem to have that problem in the world - I can monopolize with the best - what a bitch I can be) he asked me why I always feel any problem/situation/concern/conflict is only and always my fault. I have no answer. I have to say in my mind I am a bitcher and complainer so it never seems to me that I am a self-inflicted victim. I bitch incessantly about others - mostly to feel better about myself yes? Sheesh human beings are so predictable.

Yet, while telling him my story I pointed back at myself. Probably to elicit his sympathy. Eventually I ran away from therapy when the going was becoming difficult. Who wants to know why you suck? I need to stop fear around knowing the why of what I am and either keep the receipt for who I am or get my ass to the exchange counter and try harder.

I love Jane Fonda. I was watching her documentary where she is so honest with the things she's done wrong, taking that time to admit and lay it out there. But I sensed no self-flagellation around her confessions. She actually said during an interview in the documentary that, "I am what I am." No guilt around her past behaviors, yet a total awareness of what she had done and how it had effected others. I loved that. I admire her. Teach me Jane how to be so self-aware or strong or accepting of self. Seriously love all of her.

I keep reading that after a certain age we adults know how to maneuver in this world. We do? I think I was absent that day in class.

Knocked myself silly.
Knocked some sense into me.
Knocked off from work.
Knocked off a piece.
Knocked on the door.

It might be time to knock it out of the park.

Phrases that Grate - or How to Make Hashbrowns! Not Really.

It is what it is.

Do you hear what I'm saying?

You know what I'm saying?

You know what I mean?

Whatever.

Umm . . . (I'm so guilty of this one.)

That's SICK!

So basically . . .

I literally . . . 

Ma'am, please; no shirt, no pants, no service. (damn!)

~~~~~~~~

I am guilty of each and every one!

What are the words or phrases that could curl your hair? Straighten your hair? Make you long for your hair?

Once Bad Always Bad?

Seeing the world in black and white. Do you think you do that? Once someone is deemed bad they can never again be seen as good? Or are you gray? Seeing things from both sides?

Gray is my favorite color of late around my house and around my person. What does this say about me?

Grey or gray (see spelling differences) is an intermediate color between black and white. It is a neutral or achromatic color, meaning literally that it is a color "without color." It is the color of a cloud-covered sky, of ash and of lead.

A cloud-covered sky.

Pup and I are watching The Affair. At first blush; from just reading the title; you, and I frankly, may think, "Nope, I don't want this. I don't want to be witness to something uncomfortable. Something so bad."

And then you watch. It's complex. Layered. Showing over and over how things are never, ever black and white. No one correct way. No one wrong way. Not that once an asshole always an asshole. That once you think this you can never think that.

The sad situation in Ferguson, the personal violence erupting in sports, immigrants in your town, young, troubled boys looking for an anchor - looking for their place, bad parents. My list could go for miles.

Or when you think about opinions you have formed about events, people, areas of the country, family. Once you think one way can you be swayed into thinking another way?

I remember a story my dad told when I was little about a girl he was dating before meeting my momma. The girl was pretty and he liked her very much. One night out on a date, they were tickling and wrestling as young people in the beginnings of a relationship do. The girl farted. My dad broke up with her. Just like that. His opinion of her changed. From infatuation to distaste. Plonk.

I was a little girl that was always in her head and that story changed how I thought about people. I began realizing that there are reasons for experiences, reasons for change in your life that you will never know about. Why you didn't get that job, why that boy broke up with you, why a friend stopped calling you back, why you don't feel close, why someone loves you.

I've changed my mind about people and situations a million times over. Sometimes it pisses me off and sometimes it makes me happy. And sometimes it makes me wonder if I do not have a backbone. If I am easily swayed. Or if I am ornery in my singular and lonely thoughts.

I mean, once at a family meeting here at Chez Emerson, I stood up from my chair and shouted at a sister-in-law, "You're WRONG. This is what is right."

What.the.hell.

We laughed about it in the moment, but that has harassed my thoughts from time to time. Filling me with laughter and tears.

Once again, I am working through something here on paper (sic). Something I didn't even know I needed to work through! Oh the magic that early morning can provide!

I wish this would start a dialogue. I long for a dialogue! Do any of you feel similarly? Do you covet a black and white approach or do you want your mind blown open for possibilities? Possibilities seem wonderful, but they are limiting in their limitlessness.

Oh damn!

The First Haircut

Spud was born with an inordinate amount of hair. Rather thick for a brand new baby. Oh - I think they're called "newborns".

:)

It didn't fall out like some newborn hair does. Some got rubbed off in the back when he was tiny tiny from all the back-positioning that happens with babies now.

But the first hair he was born with has stayed.

Bella and he participated in a series of University of Minnesota studies and for one of them she had to give them a lock of Spud's hair and (I think) nail clippings. So they could measure . . . measure . . . oh I forget what they were going to measure. Great fun though. Geekness runs deep in this family and this kind of stuff outweighs just about everything else. Yes!

When Bella mentioned that she and The Big B were going to take Spud for his first haircut I begged to be an annoying part with my camera. All in I think I took 81 shots. Hoooya!

Which I was. Annoying that is.

Before

During

After

Now he looks like a little man. My adorable little potato.

Hang on all my hooches. Fall is approaching - can you feel it? I will be so sorry to let go of this perfect summer.

How you doin'?

"You Are a Bitch!" "No, That's Just My Face."

I have resting-bitch-face. I didn't know this was a thing. I knew something was wrong with my face (easy there . . .) a long time ago, but until I actually saw this phrase I didn't know what to call it!

It catches me off guard at times. I'm happily in, say, Target. Shopping, putting crap in my cart, wandering around in the office supply area (obsessed), or looking for 3 oz cups for the bathroom (where the hell are they anyway??) when I catch sight of my face in an unexpected mirror.

Aaah! There is my face. Frowning. Brow wrinkled. Mouth turned down. It always catches me off guard. I look closer into the mirror. There it is. The face. The face I'm presenting. What is going on? I'm happy in this moment. I'm wandering and thinking and shopping. Why the face?

I look again. I adjust my posture. I relax my face. I put on a pleasant expression. Now I look more like I feel. What is going on?

I think it's partly an introverted thing. Introverts get entirely lost in their own thoughts. Lost and unaware. The awareness that is lost expresses itself across the face. Resting Bitch Face. I think it's that simple.

Gah - I get headaches sometimes worrying about shit like this. Self-awareness woman!

I found this fantastic article about introverts on playfullytacky.com that I could have written. 

Originally found here.

Things You Should Know About Introverts

1) We need to recharge alone. This right here is the cusp of the entire introvert vs extrovert debate (if there is one, anyway) – Introverts need to be alone to recharge. We tend to get completely worn out by socializing. This is basically what it means to be an introvert.

2) We don’t hate being around people, but we probably hate crowds. I love being with people, but if you drop me into a large crowd I instantly feel like I’m alone and invisible. I try to avoid situations where I feel that way, so I may decline your open invitation to some random event. It doesn’t mean I don’t like to be around you, it just means I like to have more control over my surroundings.

3) We don’t mind silence. I can sit beside you in silence and not think we are having a bad time. This is especially true on road trips and can be a little confounding to true extroverts. For this reason, I especially like going to the movies where it is already considered rude to chat. Rule for dealing with introverts – don’t tell me I’m “too quiet.” I hate that. Sorry I’m making you uncomfortable, but you really don’t get to decide how much I have to talk.

4) Just because we are introverted doesn’t mean we are shy. Introvert and shy are actually two different things.

5) We can turn on an extroverted personality when necessary, but it is especially draining. I have no problem getting up in front of a group of people and giving a talk. I don’t even get nervous by a question and answer period. But, here is the thing, I will need major recharge time afterwards and I won’t be able to keep up this extroverted illusion all day. I can turn it on to dazzle a crowd, but if you take me out for lunch afterwards, I’ll probably just listen to you talk. I am an excellent listener.

6) We aren’t judging you. Did I get quiet? Do I have a mean look on my face? I’m not judging you; I’m just wrapped up in my thoughts with my bitchy-resting-face on. I might have even forgotten you were there. Sorry, just poke me. I didn’t do it on purpose.

7) We secretly love it when you cancel plans. I like being with you, but finding out I suddenly don’t need to be “on” and it wasn’t actually me that backed out? – priceless! Don’t worry if you have to cancel, I’m probably thrilled to be able to stay in my pajamas.

8) We can get very wrapped up in our own thoughts. My inner monologue is epic. When you have a strong monologue constantly running in the background, it is pretty easy to settle-in and listen for a while. I have to work through things in my head before I proceed, so I usually need a few minutes. When I’m ready to move forward though, I am 100 percent on top of it!

9) We can be pretty bad at connecting. You know when you have had a really bad day and you just want to call up a friend and chat? Yeah, I’m bad at that. I tend to wait for extroverts to reach out and include me, so when the time comes that I need support, I can be a bit lost.

10) We don’t like to hang around. That time after an event or meeting ends and stragglers hang around to talk – yeah, I know this is the perfect time to make more plans, connect with new people, and get involved with future projects, but I really really really hate this. I’m probably already checking my phone in my car before you have even picked up your purse. Small talk with strangers is my kryptonite.

11) We have strong opinions. Just because I have difficulty sharing them sometimes doesn’t mean I don’t have opinions. Give me an extra minute to compose my thoughts and I will continue to push myself to speak up sooner. It is a give and take here.

When in Doubt, Write It Out

One thing you can say about me is . . .

Oh wait . . .

I think the truth of it is either nothing would be said or lots would be said. Never one thing.

I was thinking the other day about how I have a level of awareness around my annoying ways. Yet speak of my annoying ways always. If I'm annoying, and believe this to be true, then the annoyance should be owned and not qualified.

If you made it through that then I'm in love with you and you need to be my new best friend.

The date today is 26.07.14. I find this shocking.

Comic Relief 

I have no job.

Yes, I work for Pup and watch my Spud-Muffin, but I bring in no money on my own. Initially this didn't bother me much. In my two marriages there has been an ebb and flow with finances. Especially in my first marriage. I was a stay-at-home-momma and brought in nothing other than random part-time gigs that I would find to bolster up the monthly receivables. And eventually I had a corporate job where I made more than half of the monthlies. So for a great portion of my first marriage my Wasband made the lion's share of the dough-ray-me and for about six years I made a bit more.

But, either way, it never mattered. Wasband and I didn't butt heads too much in this part of our financial planning. Maybe in other ways, but not in this way.

Marriage #2 has been much different. I lost the corporate job a few months before we got married. I went back to school for a period (disaster) then eventually found a job in my field at what I affectionately called "The Tumbler." Again, disaster. Hilariously so, but wow, disaster. I recently found a tongue-in-cheek job description I had written for my replacement and laughed out loud I'm so damn funny. But it spoke to my level of unhappiness with that horrible job.

I ramble here . . .

Then I worked for a lovely consignment shop in a chi-chi neighborhood for a couple of years. Made NO money, but made friends that I will have forever and had a blast working in one of my favorite fields. Fashion and hunting. Because what is more gratifying than the fashion-hunt? Consignment/thrift isn't for everyone, but I love it so.

Then we bought The Firm and we decided I'd watch Spud and work for my darling husband, Pup.

All well and good.

Except I bring in no money.

It's a weird thing.

I don't think she meant any harm, but once during a conversation with a friend we were bantering about any "work" we might want or need on our person (ahem) and I mentioned a few things I wouldn't have any bad thoughts to having done. I said, "Yeah, I've heard that ________ wouldn't cost me so much and have good results." She said, "You mean it wouldn't cost Pup so much."

I was taken aback.

Pup and I are a family, but my contributions are entirely service-based, not financial. Aaaah!

And it struck me hard . . . I have no money to call my own. Probably for the first time, actually, yes, for the first time in my life.

Gah

I gotta say, writing all of this out is enlightening. This is the reason people, some people anyway, write. You can have all of these thoughts in your fucking head, but until they are written out you don't know what you really think.

Thanks my invisible community!

Ooops! How did that get in there?

Okay, that's better.

Smooches my hooches. I hug and love.

I Can't Hula Hoop

I've tried and tried. I don't have the swing in my fling. I don't have the motion in my ocean. It bugs! I have a lovely pink (super-gendering! Apologies Bella!) one that shushes with every movement. If I could get it to move.

I've watched people. It seems endlessly easy! Move your trunk around. I do it and it slides down, down, down, to my knees and before you know it, I look like a prospector that has just found gold. Hopping up and down like my shaker has a boatload in it. Yeah, that's what I said.

Grump!

I also cannot navigate my way out of my driveway. I can't move like Beyoncé. I tried once and actually thought I heard something cracking! Ha!

I can't get my body into Ketosis. I can't stand oil pulling. I can't back out of a parking space without leaving about 20 feet between me and whatever the hell is behind me (spazz). I can't make a cake look pretty. I can't walk into a party alone. I can't put on makeup. I can't think. I can't grocery shop without a list.

I have a bunch of things I can do, but writing all of this today made me laugh!

I was in our basement looking for something a day or so ago and found my lonely hula hoop. Propped up against a pile of games. It looked so fun! I picked it up and shook it - listening to the little beads shushing shushing around. I want to hula!

I placed it around my waist. Made the rocking motions I imagine will work. It falls to the ground with a thunk and thud. Gah!

I think I'll go bike riding! I can do that!

What frustrating thing can't you do?

Do I Need a Cleanse?

March 5

It's only March 5th.

Around here much winter is still left.

I'm so tired of my knee boots I want to toss them. They'll be ready to be tossed since they look like crap with all the salt and wet they pick up daily. Blech . . .

My coats look like crap. No matter what natty scarf I put with them they look like crap. I'm not feeling particularly natty.  :)

My chub layer of winter protection is particularly chubby this season. My jeans are snug. My hair dank and listless. My eyes watery and vacant.

Don't I sound pretty? Heh!

It's bleak and dreary, snowy and frosty, cold and blustery. My poor dog George (AmStaff) is a constant pain in the ass. He can't really go outdoors for long as he has very short fur. After five minutes or so his little paws are being lifted and he's shivering like crazy. He thinks he'd love to be out there, but after a couple of turns around the block he's ready to go home. And this is only if I haven't killed myself with the slippin' and sliddin' that I'm doing in my freaking BOOTS!

The kitties are making me insane. See the lamp in the photo in my header? Gone. The baby-kitty broke it. This is the second lamp he has broken. I cried and screamed like my heart was broken as well. It's not. But that lamp was incroyablement frays and I nearly cannot look at my header any longer. :(

Whew . . .

I even went shopping over the weekend with a friend and it bored me to tears. SHOPPING people! I love shopping!

I am laughing a little bit right now. Always when I write my complaints out I feel better. Y'all might be depressed now, but I feel better! It's not fair is it?

Looking Forward

1. A pedicure. One of those always make me feel like Havaianas are not far from my everyday life. I'll scope out my new pair for the season. Should I get the color of the sun?
2. A new handbag. Something lovely and statement-making. I won't even mention what I'm eyeballing because I'll get pounded with handbag-hate. (Givenchy)  Oooops! I said it.
3. Decorating the former Den. I'm thinking and thinking. It's now dual-duty with the Spud (grand baby) so it needs to be a little bit baby and a little bit guest. I'll figure out something. Maybe. And I have to stop calling it the den. The desk is long gone.
4. I have started a new protocol with a new doctor for some of my issues - insomnia being one. And all the bad things that go along with insomnia. I'm entering week three. I see some progress and will report what happens by week six when I see him again. Let's just say I am feeling hopeful and happy.
5. I'm looking forward with a happiness that is unbridled to taking Spud for walks when spring arrives. He and I will have the best summer. This city is full of beautiful lakes and I want to stroll about with the most beautiful boy and have everyone fawn all over him. His smile will light up all worlds! Is that overstated just a bit? Hell no!  :)
6. Pup and I are considering Jamaica for our April trip. Negril's beach looks like the place for a lovely, relaxing time. My new doc said to get my arse in the SUN! I have no desire to disobey for once.

Aaaaaaah! I'm purged! It's good. 

How are you guys coping this long winter season? New haircuts? New purchases? New resolves? Scratch those itches bitches!

A Bit of Self-Indulgence

Because . . . because . . . well, because!

I'm trying really hard hooches. So hard to not be annoying. Y'all know that is nigh-on to impossible. In fact, it is absolutely impossible.

So, with that known, please enjoy the adorableness that is a newborn.



Pup and I got to watch Baby Boy-Doll last night while The Little Family went to a movie and dinner. I don't think the two of them had been out of the house except for appointments and Thanksgiving since the Tater-Tot's arrival.

We sat on the couch with him either holding him or sandwiching him between us on the couch. It was heavenly.

And he went through nearly all the outfits his momma packed, all the receiving blankets, and all the bottles. Burping, pooping, peeing, and just generally being adorable.

You can see a little bit how adorable his smiles are going to be when they come. I love this newborn stage.

Overheard

I am always lookin for sumthin. 

We are out with Momma Betty. We are in a bar/grill type place. Sitting in a booth. There is a a threesome (ha) of women sitting behind us.

One of the women is talking. I'm not wholly aware of her at first. Then after a few minutes (we were being kinda quiet in our booth) I can't not be aware of her.

She is talking talking talking. About nothing nothing nothing.

I can't stop listening. I listen to her talk about mayonnaise. How she hates mayonnaise. How the restaurant put mayonnaise on her sandwich. "Why would they put mayonnaise on this sandwich?"

I want to hit her. I want to take her sandwich and shove it deep into her mouth, maybe down her throat.

I wonder to myself why she makes me so mad. Why is her being over the top inane bothering me?

Pup and I are in the car today. Talking about people bugging us. I say, "It bothered me that that woman bothered me. What if I'm that woman at times? What if someone wants to chew off their arm to get away from my inaneness? What if I'm that woman?"

We laugh. We laugh at each other. Because we know that sometimes, yes sometimes, all of us are that woman. We dwell on something inane. We tell a story maybe once or twice too often.

Remember that quote? “No matter how good she looks - no matter how sweet she talks - somebody, somewhere is sick and tired of putting up with her shit.” We are all that woman at one time or another.

A foolish man tells a woman to stop talking, but a wise man tells her that her mouth is extremely beautiful when her lips are closed. 
~Anonymous

I Love Cocktails

I realized that the past three or more posts have had a photo of a cat. Enough already. I'm starting to scare myself. Hehehe

Here's where my head is this morning. I had a gin and tonic on the deck last night with Momma Bee (she had a Dr Pepper) and while I normally don't drink too much gin, it was delicious and refreshing. And it was alcohol.

:)

My Makers Mark is in The Guest House which is at my BIL's shop. Gah! What was I thinking leaving that important thing in the galley?? So thoughtless of me.

According to these photos I stole from Facebook, I'm the coolest person ever because I drink Manhattans, red wine, and whiskey.

Well, I always knew it. Now it's official.

It's all smoke and mirrors! But smoke and mirrors do belong in a bar and I would LOVE to be in a bar right now even though it is 10:30 in the morning.

I'm kidding!

Is your bed made yet today? Get on it!

Smooches on your pooches.

Liebster Award - For Me? I want to thank all the people that made this possible . . . heh?

Thank you David, from the always smart and always acerbic Brits in the USA. He makes me laugh out loud and get a jealous-boner most every time I read his blog. Damn him and his creative mind.

The Questions and My Answers 

1. WHERE WERE YOU BORN?
St. Paul, Minnesota

2. WHERE ARE YOU LIVING NOW?
Minneapolis, Minnesota (I'm very exotic and world-traveled)

3. IF YOU WERE A CRAYON, WHAT COLOR WOULD YOU BE?
Pacific Blue

4. LAST MOVIE YOU WATCHED
The Great Gatsby - theatre
Love, Marilyn - television

5. WHAT BOOK ARE YOU READING NOW?
I've been reading Anna Karenina FOREVER. Love it, but can't seem to finish it.

6. THE POWER GOES OUT. IT WILL BE OUT FOR SEVERAL HOURS. WHAT DO YOU DO WITH YOURSELF?
Light a million candles and pretend.

7. WHAT ARE YOU LISTENING TO RIGHT NOW?
Morning Joe - MSNBC

8. GREATEST STRUGGLE AS A WRITER
Ideas. Ideas haunt me. When I have to do anything creative it's just painful. Once the idea hits it is a breeze. I wish I knew why. Or I don't want to know why.

9. WHAT IS THE ONE BOOK YOU THINK EVERYONE SHOULD READ?
Look Homeward Angel, Thomas Wolfe. Even though I think everyone should read lots and lots of F. Scott Fitzgerald.

10. IF YOU COULD BE ONE OF THE GREEK GODS WHO WOULD IT BE AND WHY?
I would love to be Bia - Goddess of Force, but truthfully, I'm more like Eris - Goddess of Discord.

11. WEIRDEST THING YOU'VE EVER BEEN TOLD BY A FORTUNE COOKIE
There are no heads harder than empty ones.


SEVEN RANDOM FACTS ABOUT ME

1. I recently read 7 things you should know by age 50. I knew not one of them.
2. I ogle men like a man ogles women. Is this weird?
3. I joke about being annoying, yet fear this to be true.
4. I cry a lot. I don't think this is weird. It makes people uncomfortable. Why is that?
5. I am bossy beyond. I work on this always.
6. I drink bourbon.
7. If I could go back to school again, I'd study anthropology.


My Nominees....

I'm still thinking who I should bestow!


Here are the rules for the Inspirational Liebster Blogger Award:

1. Display logo in your blog to show you've been nominated.
2. Link back to your nominator.
3. Share 7 things about yourself.
4. Nominate 7 other bloggers for the award.
5. Notify your nominees.

What's on My Samsung?

I'm annoyed.

I cannot understand why so much energy from everywhere is being focused on one murder trial. I don't understand why so many are giving this horrible situation even one minute of their precious time or why they are drawing more attention to it.

From California to New York there are trials going on. For horrendous crimes. Murders, rapes, arson, robberies. Things that some of us can't even imagine because they are so horrific.

I'll make the one change that I'm in control of. Me. Sometimes I'm not even in control of her! Meaning me. Or whatever the hell I'm trying to say. You know, be the change you want to see and all that crap.

Ha! The most repeated and quoted things are that way for a reason.

So . . .

Words We Hate

My family and I were having a conversation a while back about certain words that make us shiver. You know those words, you read them or inadvertently say them and shudder or want to slap the writer with your mechanical pencil? A few of mine are:

• moist
• crotch
• puss
• creamy
• amazing
• very

Many more. They kind of come and go depending on my mood. 

And phrases. I have phrases that I parrot, but truly hate when I have to hear them. Most of them are business-speak. Company culture can really make me retch; just a little bit.

• reach out - as in "I reached out to Mr. Sprocket."
• at the end of the day - who's day may I ask?
• on the same page - most of the time we are not even reading the same book
• in and of itself - wtf is this?
• take a meeting - take it where?
• have a face to face
• folks - hate this one passionately, I am not "folks"
• bottom line - let's leave my bottom out of this
• teachable moment - gag

My daughter, Bella, sent me an article yesterday that I read with relish, talking about this very thing. Word aversion. Moist being at the top of the list. Apparently it's at the top of everyone's list!

Why Do We Hate Certain Words?

The article made me poke around and read more. The comment sections of a few articles were the BEST! Apparently everything makes someone retch. Language is powerful. The emotions that certain words evoke are both unexplainable and fascinating.

For instance, here's a list of "do not say" words and phrases I found on Vox Critica.

• Nowadays (or these days)
• Trenchant 
• Heady stuff
• Piqued my interest
• Football (to mean soccer)
• Foodie
• Scenester
• Reported (when applied to someone else’s opinion), also “informs us that...”
• Literally (to mean really)
• Proverbially (to mean figuratively)
• At the end of the day
• Apropos of nothing
• For all intents and purposes
• Just sayin’
• No offense
• As it were
• Having said that

I kinda hate "foodie" too. Really? You like to eat and you're a "foodie?" Does that mean I'm a "coffeeyy?" Sorry, that was really bad. Hard to resist myself at times.

And here's a list of "do not say" that Kurt Andersen (former editor of New York magazine) left pinned to a wall after he had been let go (fired).

• authored
• bigs (meaning "prominent people")
• bistro (okay in restaurant reviews, but sparingly)
• boast (meaning "have")
• celeb
• comely
• comfort food
• duo
• don (meaning "put on")
• dubbed
• eatery
• eponymous
• fin de siecle
• flicks
• hails from
• hubby
• indie (exception granted for indie rock)
• intone
• lifestyle
• maven
• New York's finest
• overly
• penned
• queried (meaning "asked")
• sentences beginning "result" or "reason"
• scripted
• sport (as a verb)
• staffed/staffer
• tapped (meaning "chosen")
• , um,
• , uh,
• , well,
• A who's who of
• zeitgeist

What would you add to these lists? Are there certain words or phrases that make you run for the toilet? Speaking of that - toilet is one of my cringing words!

Turn Up the Heat

February 1

I don't think of myself as much of a bitcher. I know that's not entirely true because who doesn't complain now and again? This month brings all things bad right out of me. I'm not a fan. The best thing I ever can say about this month is it is short. Gah. All of us will live through it. We will! Even though as I sit here writing the thermometer says it is 12 below. 12 BELOW! That is some cold shit hooches.

I found this lone shot of the swim up bar from our Dominican Republic hotel.

It made me break out the flannel I have to say. I don't know where I got it, but I own the tops only of a pair of flannel pajamas. No bottoms. If I thought hard about it I bet I could remember. I'm not going to exert myself on that just yet.

I sleep like a cat when it's this cold. To that I have to say yay!

It feels good to snuggle deep in your bed with heavy blankets on top. And cool sheets to move my legs to when I get hot. I sleep so hot. In fact, when Pup and I were fighting our dual sicknesses at the beginning of January, one morning he thought me seriously sick when my skin was cold. He said he actually put his head on my back to make certain I was breathing.

I not only sleep hot, but, for some magical biological reason, I throw off more heat than most others. I don't know why. It's weird and I do keep all the mosquitos busy so they leave everyone else alone.

This just reminded me of a story.

I was standing, waiting for a bus at a park-and-ride. It was a steamy, sticky, summer morning - probably around 7:00 a.m.

I approach the line of people. The guy in front of me greets me and then says.

"Hey, you have a bunch of gnats surrounding your head."

I say, "I do?" and begin swatting them away.

"Yeah!" he says, "They're all over!" He gets a look on his face and I feel I need to explain. A particularly annoying trait of mine - over explaining.

"Oh no!" I say. And keep swatting.

He is really looking at me now. It isn't good.

"It must be because I'm so hot." I explain.

"Oh yeah, that's it," he snorts.

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Yup, yup, and yup.

If you like that, I'm here every Friday. da da dum!

I'm going to cozy up here at home and work on a rewrite. I had the MOST confusing meeting yesterday and let's just say it was both eye opening and confounding. No worries - I have a plan.

Do you like how I take notes?

I Left That Where??

I have a lot of devices.

I have my beloved iMac that is beginning to show his age.

I have my new Macbook Pro laptop (kiss kiss). A powerhouse that I will be loading with all of my powerhouse software so I can do my new job on the fly as I've found working at home all the time is kinda lonely and I need the office culture to keep me lovely and smart and plugged in. This sweetie is gorgeous and I am in love with it.

I have my iPad. I didn't love my iPad at first. I kinda thought it was crazy to have, yet, another thing to manage. I have found that it's a great resource and very portable for my transient ways at the moment. My scary-genius boss set up my work email on this little baby so I have to keep it close. Pup got me a keyboard that holds it and then snaps onto as a cover. That really clinched the deal for me. I hated that touchscreen. My brain loves to work fast; when it's working.

Last, but not least, is my phone. I stopped bitching about it (finally) and find it lovely. Samsung, love has grabbed me, beat me over the head, and left me a slave to you. #overstatingismylife

Why am I talking about these life-helpers? I have a hard time managing everything!

First: the email. I have email everywhere. I have five email accounts for differing reasons. Jobs, transitioning, blog. All five of them are necessary. And all five of them come in on every device. Gah!

It doesn't stop me from losing emails. Forgetting emails. Over-answering emails. Under-answering emails. I am in email overload. I think it's my fault.

Then there is Facebook. I have been goofing with it for the past year and have found it fun and have found it a time suck as maybe some of you with Facebook have found it.

I open Facebook on my iMac, I open it on my Macbook, I open it on my iPad, I open it on my phone. I forget to shut it down. I'm sure if anyone is looking, and I'm pretty certain no one is, it looks like I'm on all the time. #fail

And the pinging. If I don't watch it, all of these things are chiming, pinging, ringing, nagging. Pup will say, "Was that you? Which one is it?" He's no better. He has lots of devices as well.

It's a dinging hell around here. And I'm not even adding in the appliances that ding and ping.

I could turn them all off and sometimes do. Turn off all the sounds that pop out of them. The quiet is good!

How do you guys manage all that you do? Am I missing an app? Don't tell me about it! But do tell me how you manage your stuff.

Quote

I do wish I had taken my own advice and not posted anything political. Too polarizing! And it's a losers game.

Anyone need an antacid after eating that piece of annoying pie?

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It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.
~Theodore Roosevelt

Politics is the art of looking for trouble, finding it everywhere, diagnosing it incorrectly and applying the wrong remedies.
~Groucho Marx

Too bad that all the people who know how to run the country are busy driving taxicabs and cutting hair.
~George Burns

Government exists to protect us from each other. Where government has gone beyond its limits is in deciding to protect us from ourselves.
~Ronald Reagan

Show me a young Conservative and I'll show you someone with no heart. Show me an old Liberal and I'll show you someone with no brains.
~Winston Churchill

A change is brought about because ordinary people do extraordinary things.
~Barack Obama

You have to remember one thing about the will of the people: it wasn't that long ago that we were swept away by the Macarena.
~Jon Stewart

The rights of every man are diminished when the rights of one man are threatened.
~John F. Kennedy

Let's Have a Kiki

I am obsessed with the Scissor Sister's song, Let's Have a Kiki. Obsessed!

*warning - graphic images and language (it's not that bad, but you gotta protect those that need protecting.)

I cannot stop listening to it.

Of course I was a bit confused regarding the meaning of Kiki. Originally I thought party. Then I came to realize it is a word, similar to our much beloved F-word, that can mean anything - driven by the person saying Kiki. Whatever makes you happy. Be it a party, sexy-time, a boy, a girl, a cocktail. If it makes you happy, it's a Kiki.

Necessary or unnecessary background for weekend story.

I went to Rice Lake to visit my friends that have a home on the lake. Peaceful, lovely, warm and calm in the summer and crisp and frozen in the winter. A small small town, but always fun when I go see my oldest and dearest friend, Deb-oh-rah.

When I go to Rice Lake we go auctioning, antiquing, junking. More fun than I deserve.

On this evening we take the pontoon to town to have dinner and a few cocktails.

After dinner we decide to go to the Lions and use Mikey's secret card (not so secret - I just wanted to say that) to gain entrance, and have a delicious cocktail overlooking the lake.

A large group come in. A group that has been having fun all day. Their energy is good! Laughing, story-telling, hitting-each-other-on-the-back fun.

One woman raises her glass and adds onto a story that we have missed the beginning of . . .

"Ladies - how many of you have had to get up in the middle of the night to pee because, in your past, you pushed babies out of your vagina?"

Rowdy laughter!

I mutter under my breath, "Not me, I do my kegels religiously."

Several woman are adding to her inquiry. Much talk about big-headed babies and the mystery of women.

I stand, swept up in the camaraderie of the moment, raise my glass of whiskey and diet, and declare, "Bow to the power of the vagina!"

Dead, cold silence. Picture about two dozen heads swung my way.

I sit and giggle a little. Mikey busts out laughing, Deb laughs a bit nervously.

I take a sip of my cocktail. The bar recovers.

Blurting just may be my Kiki!

I'm Your Captain

Pup and I bought a camper.

A 1988 Born Free President. I have no idea what it is or what it was, but I do know we have a bit of a learning curve with this lovely girl.

We bought her from a great guy, Bubba. I call him that only because his real name is Darryl and he is a bit of a Bubba. The nicest Bubba ever, but a Bubba. He was selling her because he had broken up with his girlfriend and I could see the hurt in his eyes still. He had kind eyes. And he was handsome for a Bubba.

Pup thought me a little crazy, but I could tell Bubba's heart was a bit shattered.

Not so broken though that he didn't take our check for his camper and buy himself a lovely Corvette. Good for you Bubba! Get on that horse and ride!

We bought her just a couple of weeks ago and there she sat in our driveway waiting for us to love her. I was out of town quite a bit and let's just say that Pup wasn't entirely chomping on any bit to get to know her. She scared him I think! She is a bit intimidating with all of her valves, petcocks (wth??), buttons, indicator lights, tanks, chemicals, gas intakes, blah bibbity blah blah.

So she sat.

We needed to use her to go to an anniversary party about 100 miles away and since we were leaving Saturday morning, naturally, we began looking her over on Friday night.

I'm inside cleaning (Bubba actually left her pretty clean. I didn't find anything to make me gasp anyway.) and Pup is outside checking things out.

"Come see this." he says.

Oh oh.

Water is pouring out of the water tank he is trying to fill.

Cut to confused looks on our faces.

We fumble around for a few minutes trying to find reasons for the leak. I say, "Let's call Bubba."

I can tell Pup is not wild about this idea, but he calls.

Bubba is very nice and Pup takes the phone outside and follows instructions from Bubba to turn this and crank that and look at the other.

Saturday morning we go out to the camper to discover the water tank is totally empty.

Oh dear and poopy shitty.

"Let's call Bubba again," I say.

Pup has a "hell no" face on, but does mention that we will be practically driving by Bubba's house on our way out of town.

So I call Bubba.

"Hi Bubba! This is Deborah - you remember? Your new best friend?" Nervous laughter from me. Bubba says, "Of course!"

"Bubba, Pup and I are heading out of town this morning and we were wondering if we could stop at your house for a minute so you could take a look at this leak we can't seem to stop. Are you busy right now?"

This nice man says, "Sure! Come on over."

Pup says, "He is calling us dorks right now you know."

I say, "I don't care as long as he is willing to help. Frankly, I'd be calling us a few choice names myself."

We look at each other and bust out laughing, because truth be told? We are dorks. Who waits until they are leaving to check shit out?

Bubba was amazed at that as well. In fact he turned to me with his kind eyes and said, "I'm shocked you guys didn't go over all of this stuff." I just shrugged and said, "That would have made sense though! And didn't you really want to show us your hot Corvette anyway?"

Bubba had to laugh and yes, I oooohed and aaaaahed at his hot car.

I'm a little in love with Bubba right now and am writing the end of his story in my head. The story where he meets a lovely Bubbett and they drive off into the sunset in his hot Corvette.

Meanwhile, Pup and I drove off in our leak-free camper laughing and once again I am so happy to have met someone so nice, honest, and helpful in my life.

I am brainstorming names for our lovely little camper. Anyone have any ideas? I'm calling her The Guest House right now, but Pup isn't in love with that one.

Speak or Quell?

Get on your horse and ride.
~Marshall Matt Dillon

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Complicated? Nope.

Long-winded? Nope.

Charmingly simple? Yes.

I am full of annoying advice. I had an argument with myself last week about just how annoying. My intent is always good. The antithesis of that line from one of Amy Winehouse's songs, "The message was brutal, but the delivery was kind." My delivery seems kind in my head, but brutal in its content.

As a blurter I have a long relationship with remorse.

I just thesauru.comed remorse. The note reads: Regret carries no explicit admission that one is responsible for an incident, while remorse implies a sense of guilty responsibility and a greater feeling of personal pain and anguish. Both of those seem a bit heavy-handed, but I am at a loss for a better word. My blurting sometimes causes me a pang, but is it regret or remorse? I have to think on that a bit longer.

Okay, let's go with regret.

Again - where am I going with all of this on this windy, hot morning?

I appreciate the early-morning ramblings that go on in my head, but harnessing this content is sometimes like herding cats. Good luck with that! Don't forget to write! 

Here's the thing, the thingy-thing of it all - if you say nothing, if you sit and observe with no participation, that's when you might feel a pang of regret. I should reword that to read, that's when I'll feel a pang of regret.

So! Say what you mean, but don't be mean saying it. (I stole this entire line from a reality show I confess with chagrin.)

And I'll get on that horse and ride.