Just Jen

2009-01-26T20:07:00.000-08:00

Regarding television: OK, so I've gotten sucked into watching The Bachelor, and while I shouldn't make fun of the ladies competing, it's really hard not to do so. I just won't blog about it, but seriously, it's so hard. Like, as hard as being a contestant with developing feelings. Like really, *that* hard. Because I came here to find my true love.

Regarding CAKE: I'm ready for my mother's cake decorating class to be over already. She's got skills indeed. But she has to make a cake every week, and you know, someone has to eat those cakes.

Regarding Max: It was two years ago this month that we added a small "Jack Russell Terrier" mix to our family. I'm not stupid, but it did take me a while to conclude that this dog? He has Chihuahua in him. Fo sho. It's like he has a Jack Russell body and a Chihuahua head. But I was in denial (and mourning). However, this theory was proven by my four-year-old who recently declared,

"Max is a Chihuahua, like in Beverly Hills Chihuahua."

Case closed.

2008-12-28T16:33:00.000-08:00

We moved into our current home one year and one week ago today. And I'm finally feeling settled and starting to love this place. It took longer for me to bond with this house than it did with my first one. I was a little overwhelmed by this one at first ... more space, a much larger yard to care for, and a much higher mortgage. But finally, I'm becoming attached.

I was recently laid off from the job I'd been at for four-and-a-half years, which is quite scary, especially in this economy ... however, I know moving here was the right thing to do, as was moving Ryder to a more expensive school the week before I was let go.

Fortunately, I received a good severance package and should be in good shape for several months. But it's still really scary.

I'm hoping for lots of luck and good fortune in 2009. Hope you are all enjoying the holiday ... and remember, family is definitely what's most important.

2008-11-26T18:47:00.000-08:00

From: Jennifer
FWD'd message to: E

Wanting to share b/c I have such a great relationship with Baz.

Just read us below. We're fucking hilarious. I love us. I will lick us. And then I will lick your running shoes that cross the finish line of the Turkey Trot. Because I am just that classy.

----------------- Original Message -----------------
From: Jennifer
Date: Nov 26, 2008 8:34 PM

Couple things after thinking some ...

First, you don't have cancer. You have an unnecessary organ that simply must go. The purpose? So you can fuck that surgeon. I have an inkling that might happen. And you know, then you can say you fucked a surgeon. A blonde one at that. That's not your everyday accomplishment.

Second, how could you give up your dog tags to some hooker? Seriously? They don't quite compare to a toothbrush or t-shirt. If it was your ex-fiance, I could overlook it, forgive it even. But to some random chick? I, for one, would have taken much better care of them. So now, it's me and Joseph Atherley. I will care for his just as much. I might even lick them now and then.

We should so be a sitcom.

----------------- Original Message -----------------
From: B
Date: Nov 26, 2008 12:49 PM

A chick asked to borrow my dogtags once when I first got back, and she never returned them.

Trophies.

My gall-bladder has a growth in it, and they want to make sure it's not cancerous (not likely considering the size of the growth and my age). Being safe.

And TOUGH!

... cause I'm tough enough. Cause I'm tough e-nuff!

Yeow!

- Baz

----------------- Original Message -----------------
From: Jennifer
Date: Nov 25, 2008 3:18 PM

How did I not know you supported Capitalism? How did I not know you were in the Marines? Do you have dog tags? Did you know I just bought dog tags off eBay? Seriously. They belonged to Joseph Wardman Atherley, US Navy. I don't know him or anything. WWII. I just wanted some. He's the lucky guy.

And you never told me *why* they want your gall bladder.

Whoa-o here she comes ...

----------------- Original Message -----------------
From: B
Date: Nov 25, 2008 2:39 PM

I haven't gotten an appt yet, but in a month or so.

I don't have health insurance (are you high?), but since the Marines screwed up my hip, I get free medical from the VA. Turning out to be a very nice perk, eh?

Put yourself through college and chase your dream = "Die sick, artist boy.

Volunteer to kill humans in the name of Capitalism = 'We'll take care of you forever, patriot.'"

I LOVE cookies.

... and that pic.

... man-eata.

----------------- Original Message -----------------
From: Jennifer
Date: Nov 25, 2008 1:35 PM

That's a fucking awesome story. Seriously. I want to post it. YOU post it. But I know you won't.

When's your shit coming out? How long will you be in the hospital? Your insurance covering it? Can I bake you cookies?

2008-11-25T11:37:00.000-08:00

Reason number 443 for why I love this guy. He wrote:

My plan, as I formed it while talking to the hot blonde surgeon, was to impress her. Her plan was to take out my shit.

She said they need to take out the gall bladder.

I said, "Have it."

She said my tummy scar would make it difficult for them to take it out the modern, easier way.

I said, "So...".

She said they had to go in by my ribs and dig around and cut it out.

I said, "Cool."

She said it's more painful.

I said, "Just during recovery, though. Right?"

She said yeah.

I said, "No problem."

She said it'd leave a much bigger scar.

I said, "I LOVE scars."

And judging by that fuck-me look that passed ever so briefly though her eyes when I said it, we both won.

2008-11-03T11:17:00.001-08:00

2008-09-22T13:30:00.000-07:00

So you remember Gertie, our Beta fish, and perhaps my concern in explaining fishy heaven and all that to Ryder. Well the deal is, he didn't even notice that the fish had died until about a week ago, when he asked, "Momma, where's Gertie the fish?," and I was so unprepared to answer the question because at that point, I just figured he'd forgotten about her entirely. I mean, she died two months ago.

We'd recently returned from vacation, so when I stuttered a response to that first question, he began to develop his own conclusion. I tried to explain that there's a lifespan for every organism and that the fish lifespan is not that long, that we were lucky to have had Gertie for two years. Yet he asked, "Is she in Ohio? Is she at Nana's?" And I tried to explain that she died ... two frickin months ago, and that he will be fine, and that we could get another fish if he so desired.

So today we got Ruby, which he named her, though he keeps inadvertently calling her Gertie.

It's just interesting to see life and death from the perspective of a child. He was mostly concerned about where Gertie was than what actually happened to her.

So anyway, he wasn't terribly distraught, and now we have Ruby. Another responsibility for me! :) (Don't tell Ryder but "she's" actually a "he." And he is pretty darn cute, as far as Betas go.)

2008-09-19T08:28:00.001-07:00

Bagels are the yum. I go through phases with them. At one point I didn't have one for more than a year because, you know, carbs are bad. My dad has cut all bread from his diet. WTF? Have you seen the man? I don't think this is necessary.

I only work half the day today, and this makes me happy. I've yet to decide how to spend my afternoon ... I'm meeting someone for lunch, and then I do whatever I please til yoga. Yesterday, I wanted to go shopping. My heart's only half there today, on this half-day. I think it's because there are a number of things I want to buy, but they're all over the place ... yesterday I was thinking "I need jeans," and "I want shoes" (and I'm blaming Em and T, respectively, for that). Today I'm thinking about paint colors for the study and Pottery Barn for a rug, and I want a new desk.

I think I might now be craving some retail therapy due to a bit of anxiety over the traumatic experience that I shall call "next week." (Its threat advisory might be orange, as was this one, might be yellow. Is the threat advisory ever green? Come on; I could use a green week.) As a matter of fact, this entire month has been disappointing; you'll recall I was anticipating a carefree September? Not so much. But October ...

Reasons I am slowly falling in love with October:
1) It's not here yet, and it's not quite within reach so ...
2) I love the *idea* of it
3) Um, Oct. 1, people -- DSM Season Dos
4) The weather is usually damn near perfect
5) It's my son's birthday month thus ...
6) It was the last month of the year in which I was ever pregnant (bittersweet)

By the way, did you see the way I just went from half-hearted-about to craving the shopping? This is typical behavior.

And seriously, we really need peanut butter.

2008-08-19T09:00:00.000-07:00

OK, so when I'm alone in the car (i.e., sans three-year-old demanding Elvis Costello) or on the Internet, I'm listening to the following, all worth checking out:

Annie Williams -- my favorite of hers is So Much, but anything she sings is beautiful. And she covers Wilco's Far, Far Away. Enough said.

Ray LaMontagne -- Another that's all good.

Starrfadu -- All Your Words is a duet with Annie, and I posted the lyrics here before.

Bon Iver -- Also mentioned in a previous post. I'm partial to Skinny Love.

And today, today I'm listening to Matt Nathanson.

Not only does he do a mad cover of James' Laid, he's got me with Come on Get Higher. And I know how everyone just *loves* when folks post lyrics, but on this rainy Monday, I'm giving you the finger and posting them anyway. :) Cheers.

Come on Get Higher

I miss the sound of your voice
And I miss the rush of your skin
And I miss the still of the silence
As you breathe out and I breathe in

If I could walk on water
If I could tell you what's next
Make you believe
Make you forget

So come on, get higher, loosen my lips
Faith and desire in the swing of your hips
Just pull me down hard
And drown me in love
So come on, get higher, loosen my lips
Faith and desire in the swing of your hips
Just pull me down hard
And drown me in love

I miss the sound of your voice
The loudest thing in my head
And I ache to remember
All the violent, sweet
Perfect words that you said

If I could walk on water
If I could tell you what's next
I'd make you believe
I'd make you forget

So come on, get higher, loosen my lips
Faith and desire in the swing of your hips
Just pull me down hard
And drown me in love
So come on, get higher, loosen my lips
Faith and desire in the swing of your hips
Just pull me down hard
And drown me in love

I miss the pull of your heart
I could taste the sparks on your tongue
I see angels and devils
And God, when you come on
Hold on, hold on, hold on, hold on

Sing sha la la la
Sing sha la la la la

So come on, get higher, loosen my lips
Faith and desire in the swing of your hips
Just pull me down hard
And drown me in love
So come on, get higher, loosen my lips
Faith and desire in the swing of your hips
Just pull me down hard
And drown me, drown me in love

It's all wrong, it's all wrong,
it's so right
So come on, get higher
So come on and get higher
'Cause everything works, love
Everything works in your arms

2008-07-29T12:54:00.000-07:00

I am considering hiring a babysitter.

I am considering hiring a babysitter.

I am considering hiring a babysitter.

This should not be a big deal, right? I mean, I was left with sitters a lot growing up, and I babysat quite a bit myself. My favorite little girl, whom I watched when I was a teenager, just graduated high school a couple of months ago, and I sent her a nice card, and the family adores me and I them and (I'm trying to convince myself) there's nothing wrong with hiring a babysitter.

So why do I feel guilty? I mean, I would be hiring her initially so that I can add an extra yoga session to my week. I'm going to be sweating and working hard and not out gallivanting.

The thing is, I've never left Ryder with a babysitter -- only family. Recent circumstances have resulted in my having less help during the week -- and I don't really want family over three nights a week anyway. I see enough of my folks, thanks.

Hiring a sitter is the first step in poking a tiny hole in the bubble in which I've surrounded our life. It will likely be a good thing, which I rationally get. But going through with the idea isn't easy.

So next week, I'm meeting a co-worker's daughter. She lives a few blocks away and obviously, I work with her mother so ... makes sense, right? And besides Ryder will probably enjoy having a playmate come over once a week. If we like her. And if I can handle the whole, you know, leaving him with a sitter.

I am considering hiring a babysitter.

2008-07-15T20:44:00.001-07:00

The thing about hot yoga is that when you get out of the 108 degree room and get into the 78 degree temperature outside (which is awesome for this time of year in Texas) well, shit, you're cold.

I have no doubt that the yoga can help beat one's susceptibility to the local summer temperatures, but every indoor place in Texas over air-conditions in combat. So, beating the heat results in FREEZING indoors, or even outdoors, as I've recently found.

However, the benefits outweigh this minor setback, and I continue on, hoping that if it's possible to feel cold outdoors in Texas in July that it's possible for my ass to turn to steel.

2008-06-20T08:57:00.000-07:00

I don't think it was the bloodworms, as they got Gertie active again. I think it was fishy old age, but I'm sad to say that after 14 months, our Gertie has kicked the bucket.

Ryder hasn't noticed the missing fish yet, and I've been considering putting a new one in there to see if he even notices. But that would be deceitful. So, I'll just tell him the truth, ask him if he'd like to get another fish, and if he wants to, we'll go pick out one together.

RIP, Lil' G. You were a good betta.

2008-06-18T08:10:00.001-07:00

So I returned from vacation, tried to catch up for four days, then hit a tradeshow (because, you know that's what the hip folk do) for a week. This brings me to last week which was busy with more of the catching up and with starting back with the hot-ass yoga, and then you know, I sold a house. And that Yoga is HOT. As I told a friend, it's like doing aerobics in a closed Texas garage in August. With the heat on.

YES, people, I sold the house we moved out of in December and currently own one property. You can imagine the weight this takes off my shoulders. This is not a post about an offer or a contract on the house (we had two before this one, so clearly having a contract means NOTHING), this is me saying, "I no longer own two homes." This is me saying, "It's a done deal," something to take off the list of things stressing me out. I can no longer blame the little house for all of life's difficulties.

Life does have a way of shifting things around a bit though, of keeping you on your toes, of removing one challenge just before another lands on your plate.

And the Yoga? It's HOT.

2008-06-06T10:34:00.001-07:00

Should you ever find yourself with a pet fish who suddenly refuses to eat, perhaps my experience will be of help.

Gertie, the betta we've had for more than a year, stopped eating. I hadn't changed her food at all but suddenly she wouldn't eat it. She became inactive. (Though really, Gertie's activity level was never normal. She's always been a bit of a bore.)

At first I eased my mind with the idea that she would eat when she got hungry, but time passed and ... no eating. Naturally, I diagnosed her as anorexic. One particular symptom of her unhealthy relationship with food: she would, at times, go for the food pellet then spit it out. I've heard this referred to as the "chew and spit" technique. I became concerned and decided to visit my local pet store for some advice.

A friendly store associate recommended I try feeding Gertie freeze dried blood worms in order to stimulate her appetite. And stimulate they did. She pretty much attacks the lil worm as soon as I drop it in the water, and her activity level is off the charts. She's now a spaz like the rest of us.

Gertie compulsively swims; I'm compulsively compulsive. Life is swell.

2008-05-27T14:49:00.000-07:00

To a friend, regarding vacation:

I have a ton of shit to do since I just got back, and you know that first day back is always the worst.

Life, in general, is alright. But you know that whole passion conversation we had? I have very little, if any, right now. About anything. I wish I could focus on my job. I need to focus there because there's opportunity and I just need to hit the mark, which shouldn't be that difficult, and poof! I'll get a rabbit.

I'm watching my hands type and thinking I'm one bronzy bitch. You know, where your fingernail beds look so white because your hands are tan? I know, all this sun will give me the wrinkles and the cancer and all that shit, but did you know it also gives you the Vitamin D? That's good for you. The Vitamin D. And you have heard of the benefits of light therapy, right? And take today's unmotivating weather, for example; a bit of sunshine might help. I need some internal sunshine.

I did very much enjoy my vacation and once I've had a chance to wash the sand out of my swimsuits and think about it all, I'll likely churn out a couple of blog postings. I'm also going to try to get some new pics up soon.

OH -- thought of you Saturday while on a sunset cruise on the Gulf. There was a local musician performing on the deck, and I requested a song, and he obliged and sang for me and Ryder, and all the passengers, and for you as well. He sang, "Wild World." Ryder and I both sang along.

2008-05-16T11:02:00.000-07:00

There's this terrible thing that, I'm hearing, parents do .... they start packing up all the shit you stored at their house and start sending it to you. Boxes begin to pile up, and you feel like you're moving again. "You now have more room," they say.

I was just tortured with going through all of Ryder's old clothes ... the ones I kept before I realized there would be hundreds of shirts and pants and outfits, before I realized I'd never have another need for them.

Going through the boxes of Ryder's clothes was depressing, but going through boxes of high school bullshit has been entertaining.

I've still not gone through the binders of notes -- yes, that's right; I kept my high school notes in binders by dates. WTF? I ask myself the same. I've been this anal retentive for some time now. Interesting, to me, at least.

I think about organizing the notes by sender and mailing a stack to each individual who wrote them to me. This could be *very* entertaining, but at the same time, I might resent someone pulling that shit on me.

So, anyway, garage sale this weekend with lots of sorority shirts and baby clothes. Should be a good bargain for someone.

In the meantime, I'll save the notes, the words. I'm sort of a collector of them anyway.

2008-05-02T13:17:00.000-07:00

Feeling random ... and crap, I mean, it is my dearest friend's birthday today, so I have to post just to give props to Cheddar Rob from the PrinceyP. Dis s'posda make you laugh. See how time fly?

So tonight is Korean Karaoke night after dinner, where I plan to have some Kimchi in case you were wondering.

I have laryngitis, so I won't be on the karaoke machine, which really sucks because PrinceyP can rap like a mutha. And I'm sure that would be hilarious at a Korean Karaoke. Hell, it might even be more hilarious with laryngitis. If you were fortunate enough to talk to me on the telephone last night you know how I currently sound, but Josh's description was most eloquent: "Your voice sounds like an old French whore's." (No offense to French or women or hookers or anything, k?)

OK. And lastly, I had a bizarre dream last night in which I completely resolved an issue that is doomed irresolvable. I don't feel the least bit better. However, tonight I'll be givin' no shits.

Happy weekend.

2008-04-18T15:07:00.000-07:00

HE: Life is not a trial to overcome. It's a banquet feast, Cricket.
Eat it up.
ME: OK, so that's dead-on. I do see life as a trial to overcome.
ME: You're a winner or a loser.
ME: If it's a game, there are no teams.
ME: Those foolish enough to join a team lose something in the end.
HE: I like your writing, and your wit but you stretch your analogies too far.
ME: Says you.
ME: Now, I'm not claiming that my feelings on any of this are right. If I had to debate the whole "life is a banquet," "live for the moment" arguement, I'd likely lose. But whether it makes sense or not, whether it's logical or not, it's how i feel. It's my perspective, and it's ingrained.

2008-03-31T08:22:00.001-07:00

Circles, circles, circles. Forgot about this Verve Pipe song from college. Feeling it again.

When I was young I knew everything
and she a punk who rarely ever took advice
now i'm guilt stricken, sobbing with my head on the floor
stop a baby's breath and a shoe full of rice

I can't be held responsible
cause she was touching her face
I won't be held responsible
she fell in love in the first place

For the life of me I cannot remember
what made us think that we were wise and we'd never compromise
for the life of me I cannot believe we'd ever die for these sins
we were merely freshmen

My best friend took a week's vacation to forget her
his girl took a week's worth of valium and slept
now he's guilt stricken sobbing with his head on the floor
thinks about her now and how he never really wept he says ...

I can't be held responsible
cause she was touching her face
I won't be held responsible
she fell in love in the first place

We've tried to wash our hands of all of this
we never talk of our lacking relationships
and how we're guilt stricken sobbing with our heads on the floor
we fell through the ice when we tried not to slip, we'd say ...

I can't be held responsible
cause she was touching her face
I won't be held responsible
she fell in love in the first place

2008-03-26T11:33:00.000-07:00

I've mastered passive; I've mastered aggressive. I'm working on assertive.

2008-03-23T21:36:00.000-07:00

Happy Easter, from Bunny Max. He's just one of the big guy's helpers, and a mighty fine one at that.

2008-03-20T20:19:00.000-07:00

Fourteen weeks. Big, blue-eyed girl.

2008-02-18T14:06:00.000-08:00

I cannot wait to share this with Baz. He's right; we are Apes with Ideas.

2008-02-07T09:23:00.000-08:00

"There will be no more isolation
In our secret separation"

Yeah, I'm listening to The Fixx. What of it?

2008-02-06T05:14:00.000-08:00

Three years and ... wait, Millie's seven weeks old and home!

2008-01-28T17:02:00.001-08:00

Six weeks old

2008-01-23T14:09:00.000-08:00

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;
which grows higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart
i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart)

e.e. cummings

2008-01-22T10:08:00.000-08:00

I overheard two parents talking today while waiting as our kids participated in a playdate -- a playdate that's part of an application process that will determine whether they'll score one of the 54 spaces available for the more than 150 applicants to a local private school.

I never thought we'd apply to a private school in this city, but I made the mistake of touring the facility, and I fell in love with it and with the approach to teaching and emphasis on creative learning. The parents footing the bill are another story entirely. I have so little in common with them. And I still haven't figured out how I might pay the tuition, should Ryder get accepted.

I overheard quite a few interesting bits of conversation. Prior to the playdate, the kids participated in one-on-one interviews with local speech pathologists who were to evaluate where they are developmentally. One of the mothers said she stood at the door the entire time and listened in while the doc asked her daughter questions. The questions were basic at first ... the child was asked to identify the brown circle on a card, the red circle, etc. ... but then they got more difficult.

"One of the last tasks," she said, "was to identify the plate with eight strawberries on it. I mean, come on. She's three. She can count to eight but to recognize the number visually?" And I'm gloating because I know Ryder can do this. No, really.

It's ridiculous, but I began to feel like I was rushing a sorority or something, and that whole process is the part I really dislike. But I can't help getting competitive either.

Three teachers approached me after the kids came out, and based on their comments and my own knowledge of my son, I have no doubt he knocked their socks off. But, I'm still glad we don't find out anything until March. The results will cause stress, I'm sure, regardless of what they are.

2008-01-18T12:25:00.000-08:00

Five weeks old

2008-01-10T08:19:00.000-08:00

Oh, my heart, my beating heart!

2008-01-03T13:29:00.001-08:00

Reflecting is a purposive process

Sometimes I think people care about minute details about which they really don't and shouldn't care. Sometimes I get stuck, unable to view things from any perspective other than my own. At least I can still break out of it though; some people seem to lose that ability as they get older, and I don't mean "mature."

There are conversations that make me think, that later show up in compact size in other dialogue. There is more than one conversation present in the simple statements above. Interestingly enough, the conversations referenced were between me and the same second party. I've been unable to define that individual's role in relation to ... anything. If I don't want to hear it I ignore it, right. It's a skill, actually; some might even call my mastery of it a God-given talent. Don't read anything into that. Don't read anything into anything.

Change gears. We had a busy, but exciting, holiday. I can describe how wonderful it was, and all the reasons why it was wonderful, but I'm not sure what the point in doing that would be. I am exhausted but refreshed. I'm in motion. I like where we're going.

I am thankful for how truly blessed we've been, and I'm not afraid to say that we deserve it.

2007-12-17T09:38:00.000-08:00

You want honesty? I woke up wanting him this morning, following a bizarre dream in which I was at a club, seeing a show by myself, when we ran into one another. I had black and red hair and was wearing a white t-shirt with black letters that said I was looking for a couple of people. Yes, written on the t-shirt was, "Looking for xxx and xxx." XXX No. 2 wasn't really an important part of the dream, though his presence was interesting nonetheless.

When I bumped into XXX and his pal (not XXX No. 2), he told me I had the best tits in the entire building. Other parts of the dream are spotty, but I awoke from it abruptly after he told me his girlfriend was carrying his child. This, of course, was unrelated to the wanting, as the wanting began before he delivered the news that awoke me and, in spite of it, continued to linger.

2007-11-28T10:44:00.000-08:00

Bouncing Off Clouds

Bouncing Off Of Clouds We Were
Is There A Love Lost And Found?

Make It Easy
Make This Easy
It's Not As Heavy As It Seems
Wrapped In Metal
Wrapped In Ivy
Paint It In Mint Ice Cream

We Could Be Bouncing Off The Top Of This Cloud
I'll Put On My Silver
We Could Be Bouncing Off The Top Of This Cloud

Failure To Respond But
I Did. But Did You Listen?

Bouncing Off The Top Of This Cloud
I'll Put On My Silver
About What You Said, Has It Come To This?
I'll Put On My Silver
Bouncing Off The Top Of This Cloud

Well You Can Stare All Day At The Sky
But That Won't Bring Her Back
That Won't Bring Her Back
You Say You're Waiting On Fate
But I Think Fate Is Now
I Think Fate Is Now
Waiting On Us

Make It Easy
Easy, Easy

We Could Make This Easy
Easy, Love. Easy

We Could Make This Easy
Make This Easy
It's Not As Heavy As It Seems
Wrapped In Metal
Wrapped In Ivy
Blue Umbrellas Now Smiling

We Could Be Bouncing Off The Top Of This Cloud
I'll Put On My Silver
About What You Said, Has It Come To This?
I'll Put On My Silver

Bouncing Off Of Clouds We Were

I still love me some Tori Amos.

2007-10-09T14:02:00.000-07:00

Go web, go!

But no, did you know that there's a difference amongst The Amazing Spiderman, Spiderman 3, and Spiderman & Friends?

Well, there is. And I feel superior just knowing so. And for knowing this little bit of useless information that might one day propel me to the Trivial Pursuit championship games:

Spiderman's "spider-sense" manifests in a tingling feeling at the base of his skull, alerting him to personal danger in proportion to the severity of that danger. It appears to be a simultaneous, seemingly clairvoyant response to a wide variety of phenomena.

And is it wrong to find such intellectual speak of Spiderman quite sexy? Come reciting in a ball cap.

2007-10-08T15:00:00.000-07:00

I like ball caps on guys, when a guy knows how to wear one right. I can't help it. I should probably like neck ties on men, but I like ball caps on guys. Go figure.

After this thought crossed my mind, the one that immediately followed was another quote from the last novel I read.

"A baseball cap, worn frontward or backward, knocks fifty points off your IQ. A bucket hat? Seventy-five. Pants with the crotch at knee-level, revealing the cleft of your arse, making you walk like a penguin? A hundred. These articles are perhaps acceptable for four-year-olds, or circus chimps, but adult men?"

Mostly I agree, but I still like ball caps on guys.

2007-08-20T14:22:00.000-07:00

It's official. I've reached my maximum capacity for purchasing things of unbearable cuteness, whatever the hell that means. Actually, it means I bought this sunshine for yeah, the sunshine, and this awesome play mat over the weekend.

I also bought a "thing that goes 'round and 'round." Ryder fell asleep shortly after playing with one of these, before we were able to find our way out of IKEA, so while lugging him and all of our soon-to-be-purchased treasures toward the exit, we voted to ditch the "thing that goes 'round and 'round," assuming he would forget all about it somewhere between his nap and resuming consciousness.

He awoke once we were out of the building while being buckled into the car seat. He looks at me, half asleep, and asks, "That thing that goes 'round and 'round?" His expression was one of longing.

You're thinking, "No, you didn't" -- especially if you've been in IKEA -- but I did. You should feel bad for the others in my party who patiently waited as I went back in and bought the little wooden toy. I was rewarded by being chased with it most of Sunday.

I'm obviously losing my ability to think rationally. Or perhaps I never had it, and being irrational has just never been so fun.

2007-08-13T10:33:00.000-07:00

Upon returning home from Super Target, I'm quickly asked, "What'd ya get me? What'd ya get me?," by one Mr. Ryder.

I tell him I got bottled water, cheese, etc. He says, "No, what'd ya get me?" So I give in and let him have the DVD I have, in fact, gotten for him. I also pull out a DVD I purchased for myself.

"What's that one?"

"That one's momma's. It's called 'Belly, Butt & Thighs.'"

"Bellybutton Thighs?"

"Yes, that's right. Bellybutton Thighs."

2007-07-13T07:59:00.000-07:00

Steve Martin's Shopgirl was made into a film several years ago, and the movie did not do the book justice. The writing is really good; I recommend reading it.

"He doesn't understand the subtleties of slights and pains, that it is not the big events that hurt the most but rather the smallest questionable shift in tone at the end of a spoken word that can plow most deeply into the heart."

2007-07-10T09:55:00.000-07:00

I'm on an all-sushi diet. As of now, I mean; I did have doughnuts this morning. BUT, I've been gearing up for this for about a week, eating sushi for lunch Monday - Friday, and I'm now ready to go all the way. All fish, all the time. Bring on the wasabi.

2007-07-06T13:03:00.000-07:00

I got books.
And ate Dolmas
and Shrimp Meconos.
And today's only July 6.

2007-07-05T10:11:00.000-07:00

I'm only a little jealous today when I receive an out-of-office alert from co-workers saying they'll return on Monday, July 9. While I certainly shouldn't complain about a day off, having the Independence Day holiday fall mid-week this year is a little inconvenient.

I guess I could have taken a couple of vacation days, but I really need the time to catch up. This is why I say I'm only a little jealous. However, I am actually a lot jealous. I'd prefer not to be behind in the first place.

Hope you had a Happy Independence Day.

2007-06-26T12:13:00.000-07:00

Am I the only one in the state of Texas who didn't know the symbolism behind this?

2007-06-20T10:37:00.000-07:00

Someone gave me a copy of Jonathan Safran Foer's Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close, and I passed it to a couple of others. One friend just finished it about a week ago, and when he returned it, I was flipping through, looking at things I'd underlined and the writings he had added to it, which I had encouraged. It was rather interesting to compare notes.

Anyway, some of the quotes that I really liked are below. It's a very good book.

"... I used to be an atheist, which means I didn't believe in things that couldn't be observed ... It's not that I believe in things that can't be observed now, because I don't. It's that I believe that things are extremely complicated."

"Nothing is beautiful and true."

"Grandma said, 'I hope you never love anything as much as I love you.'"

"What were we spending so much time doing if not getting to know each other?"

"You cannot protect yourself from sadness without protecting yourself from happiness."

"When I looked at you, my life made sense. Even the bad things made sense. They were necessary to make you possible."

2007-06-15T13:24:00.000-07:00

This is so not something anyone wants to hear about, but I have
The World's Largest Callous
on my foot.

I want to stop the world and fuss over it, but alas, there are things much more worthy of attention.

2007-05-23T08:13:00.000-07:00

Life By The Drop
» Stevie Ray Vaughan

Hello there, my old friend
Not so long ago it was til the end
We played outside in the pouring rain
On our way up the road we started over again

You're livin our dream oh you on top
my mind is achin,' Lord it won't stop
That's how it happens livin life by the drop

Up and down the road in our worn down shoes
Talkin about good things and singin the blues
you went your way and I stayed behind
We both knew it was just a matter of time

You're livin our dream oh you on top
my mind is achin,' Lord it won't stop
That's how it happens livin life by the drop

No wasted time, we're alive today
Churnin up the past, there's no easier way
Time's been between us, a means to an end
God it's good to be here walkin together my friend

We're livin our dreams
my mind's stopped achin,'
That's how it happened livin life by the drop
That's how it happened livin life by the drop
That's how it happened livin life by the drop

2007-05-21T14:33:00.001-07:00

It's strange how things can affect you. I've always thought myself to be straight-forward, open and honest, but the thing is, I'm only some of those things some of the time. Open? Well, no, and particularly not in person, though being open on paper is more comfortable for me. Some of the things, some of the time ...

My friend, Sarah, is dead. Saying she "passed away" is supposedly the way to soften it, but how can you really, possibly soften the death of a 33-year-old wife, mother, daughter, friend? If you would have told me on Halloween, when our boys went trick-or-treating together, that she would be gone in six months, I would have never believed you. After eight years of remission, her Cancer came back with a vengeance and went through her body like a tornado. She learned she had "innumerable Cancerous lesions" in her liver on April 27. I saw her May 4. She started chemo May 8. She died May 12.

I haven't properly grieved, and I know some of that is because I'm still in denial. I mean, she went to San Diego for treatment, and it's like I think she's still there on vacation. Her family was moving there ... it's complicated, but they're all gone now. They're there, but they're there without her.

Sarah was beautiful, and hilarious, and one of those rare people who make you feel instantly comfortable. Our first meeting was at a campout, and she was probably the only girl who enjoyed getting her drink on as much as I did. We bonded while shot-gunning beers. Our relationship evolved into something special and more mature as the years passed ... as she and Kevin started a family ... as I started my own and she introduced me to the magic of Infants' Mylicon while constantly telling me to chill the fuck out, that I wouldn't break the damn kid.

We didn't see one another often enough, making it even more difficult for me to believe I won't see her at the next event, at her twins' fourth birthday party in July. And I cannot fathom for one minute what her boys are going through. I don't have words for them or for Kevin. As blessed as we all were to have known her, she was blessed with a wonderful, caring, husband to whom she was married 13 years. It breaks my heart to see her family going through this.

If I haven't grieved, maybe it's because I just don't know for whom I should start.

2007-05-08T12:42:00.000-07:00

From this article on Slate:

"Albert Einstein, said (in a quote that doesn't make it into The Secret): 'Only two things are infinite, the universe and human stupidity, and I'm not sure about the former.'"

Loud and clear.

Just the other day a friend asked me if I really did read this book. And I did, until I quit. The author of the Slate article gives a pretty good assessment.

I feel sort of like I did when I was 19 years old and read The Rules (yes, I admit it), only now I'm supposed to be old enough to know better.

I must quit listening to Oprah Winfrey.

UPDATE: Another one of my favorite quotes from this article (though you probably have to read it to put the quote into context):

"... I thought starting with the million-dollar manifestation was like saying, 'I love you' on a first date; I didn't want to scare the universe into not taking my calls. I came up with three things I thought the universe would find reasonable: a kitchen floor, unclogged sinuses, and a new desk."

2007-04-23T12:58:00.001-07:00

You should know of my Sunday dilemma, should you ever be in search of music in Dallas. Yes, yes, I know about the Internet but I wanted to get my hands on a copy of a particular import soundtrack immediately because well, I just happened to have time to listen to it right then and there, so I wanted it right then and there. Immediately. Now.

I went to CD World where they, so you know, do not regularly receive soundtracks. Most of the soundtracks they have are used ones they've purchased from folks selling CDs there. They can order it for you, sure, but I can do that. And did I mention that I wanted it right then and there? I love this store, but I had to move on ...

... to Tower Records -- or shall I say the place where Tower Records once was? They closed down. So on to Borders in West Village, which I normally avoid like the plague, but you know, there I was. And they searched and didn't have the CD and questioned whether it was really out or not. I'm telling these people that it's out, yes, but they're looking at me with such doubt that I actually started wondering if I really saw that it's out. For the record, it is out.

So dammit, I venture on to Virgin Megastore at Mockingbird Station more determined than ever to get my hands on a copy of this CD and yes, to prove to the Borders people that just because they don't have it doesn't mean that it doesn't exist. I'm happy I got distracted and went to Francesca's before trying to go to yet another music store that has disappeared from the Dallas scene. Virgin Megastore? Closed down.

Barnes & Noble. These people were at least wise enough to acknowledge that the CD came out last October, but they didn't have it. I officially gave up for the day, disappointed that I'd spent so much time to return home empty handed. (I wasn't entirely empty handed; I did have a new shirt and a pair of earrings with me by then.)

All is not lost -- because I'm sharing my experience in the hopes that one of you will not try to go to Tower or Virgin, especially not on the same day, just to be disappointed.

Also, today I called Bill's Records, which apparently recently MOVED (glad I didn't drive there) and they have no soundtracks right now.

Yes, the Internet. I ordered the disk online and will hopefully receive it in a matter of days. Even though I wish I had it right now. Either I'm getting a lesson in patience, some of what I've been preaching to my two-year-old lately, or I'm not supposed to have a copy of this CD -- getting my hands on it shouldn't be so tough.

2007-02-26T12:18:00.000-08:00

Diet Coke: an indispensable part of our lives? Bold statement, but good advertising.

Yours,

2007-02-05T11:18:00.000-08:00

You oughta know.

2007-01-30T13:27:00.000-08:00

I can't get out of my damn head lately, and therein lies a major problem, the root of all evil. The difficult thing is that I've probably never been busier, I have no time to be trapped in here, yet I can't work my way out.

Sometimes in the morning, while sitting on the back porch before starting the mad dash to get out of the door, while checking out the squirrels and birds and watching my breath float in the air, I sometimes briefly see things in perspective.

2007-01-26T08:37:00.000-08:00

I got it figured.

Put me in this place and throw a crumb. Scarfing it down would be overeager. Ignoring it would be ungrateful, considered rude.

There's some sort of fine, invisible line. Doesn't work for me, monkey. Prevents me from being comfortable, and when I'm uncomfortable I'm an idiot.

I've created this scenario; you've played along. And in some way, I've enjoyed that and wouldn't want it to change because if it did, I wouldn't want the result of the evolution. Because I do not want what I haven't got. And in some respects, I do not want what I do.

2007-01-22T09:41:00.000-08:00

Read up. The first sentence is dead-on, the rest of the article states the obvious. Jeff Tweedy moved beyond the Americana genre a long time ago.

2007-01-11T08:53:00.000-08:00

Cooper Tito McC
August 1996 - Jan. 8, 2007

Cooper was born in August 1996 in Canada and moved to Houston, Texas before his first birthday to live with Jeff & Ja'Na. In August of 2001, Cooper was adopted by Jennifer and moved to Dallas where he enjoyed running at White Rock Lake and playing at the dog park. In April 2002, Cooper participated in the Mighty Texas Dog Walk, a 5K benefiting Texas Hearing & Service Dogs, and helped set a world record for the World's Largest Dog Walk.

Cooper, Blue Heeler ACD, was a devoted and loyal companion to his family. Tolerating the taunting of his 6-lb. Yorkshire Terrier brother Dexter and the antics of two-year-old Ryder, he never once showed aggression toward these occasionally pesky members of his family. "Pooper," as Ryder affectionately called him, was extremely loving and enjoyed hugging and somersaulting into our laps for a belly rub. He was particularly fond of fleece "babies" with squeakers.

Cooper was near-fluent in English, and understood every word of the language. He obeyed most commands, including sit, stay, down, shake, go back, kennel, and porch. He was always eager to please, though if encouragement ever was needed, Taco Bell tacos would do the trick.

Cooper enjoyed traveling, camping and trips to the cabin in Antlers, Okla. No matter the environment, Coop was happy as long as he was at our side. He will never be forgotten and will forever be missed.

In lieu of flowers, hug your animals a little longer and a little tighter. Better yet, register for this year's Mighty Texas Dog Walk taking place April 14 in Austin.

2006-12-20T11:36:00.000-08:00

In a million years I would have never guessed I'd receive a book from him for Christmas. It was a nice surprise.

2006-12-03T21:40:00.000-08:00

Be still my beating heart

Origin: From the poem All One
by Mary Elizabeth Coleridge (1861 - 1907)

Meaning: Expression of excitement when seeing the object of one's romantic affections. Originally used with the swooning earnestness of woman's poetry of the Romantic period. Now more often used ironically, about suitors who are indisputably unsuitable. This according to The Phrase Finder.

Be still, my beating heart, be still!
There is no hope for thee tonight.
The fading of the wintry light
Has made a blackness of the hill.

Be still, be still, my beating heart!
For thee tonight there is no fear.
The moon has risen white and clear,
And we shall neither meet nor part.

2006-11-27T08:44:00.000-08:00

You know what's messed up? I'll tell you what's messed up, and the fact that I'm telling you is completely ironic. You'll see. I may ramble.

I've been working on my character flaws ... realizing the only thing I have control over is me, my behavior, my thoughts, my actions, but I still have a hard time with the idea of influence. So I can't control other people, and I know that may seem like an easy concept to digest, but I struggle with it; I think I can influence them. Why should/do I want to though? I'm working on not wanting to do so. This may make absolutely no sense.

What's messed up is that in working on myself, in becoming aware of the fact that I think other people should do certain things, live their lives a certain way, etc., and that I should just keep my mouth shout, I'm suddenly aware of this flaw in other people. I want to shake them and tell them that some things are just none of their business, that they shouldn't judge people they don't know, that they don't know where that other person has been or where that person is going. Hell, they don't even know that about themselves.

But who am I to judge others on their opinion? I shouldn't judge them for judging. You know? So I guess my telling you isn't ironic, it's the fact that I feel this way in the first place. You feel what you feel though, and all I can do is be aware of the feelings and try to accept that we all go our own pace. We have different plans, different ideas. Just because I think my way is the right way doesn't mean another person will agree. I'm starting to become alright with that.

2006-11-07T10:47:00.000-08:00

I wrote this yesterday.

It's rainy. OK, it's not rainy but wet from the massive downpour of last night. We'll call it the massive downpour of Nov. 5, shall we? I'm original like that.

At first it was rather enjoyable -- last night, the rain and Jeff Buckley. I was listening to that song; you know, the one that mentions rain and shoes, a funeral, and insomnia, though it's mostly about a lover coming over. You know it, right?

Procrastination ... extending one's Sunday in the hopes of delaying Monday ... call it what you will, but I finally ran out of mundane tasks to serve as fuel. I didn't feel like reading, and rational thought had begun to creep in, reminding me why it is that I need sleep. I have no understanding of why I want it at the most inconvenient times and avoid it by ingesting a pot of coffee at 2 o'clock in the morning. There's no explanation for that, so I throw my hands in the air and chalk it up to being difficult, jinxing myself in more ways than the obvious.

I went to bed, and I fell asleep ... for a total of two hours before waking to loud thunder and my son's periodic coughing bouts. Needless to say, I had a hard time getting up once I woke up, which was later than what is required to start things off on the right foot.

I strolled into daycare in the sweats I'm wearing now, bumping into more people than I would have liked before heading home. I'll probably get more done working here today anyway.

2006-11-01T12:32:00.000-08:00

Random:

I missed posting in October (almost, sort of).
I apparently miss Judd Nelson as well.
Cookie has the best brat pack quote on her blog: "What about prom, Blaine? WHAT ABOUT PROM?!"
It's really all about me, at least I think it is, and I can't help that.
I can't quit listening to Simple Minds.
Someone showed up out of nowhere, and made me nostalgic, hence the prevalence of 80s-influenced thoughts.
Even though I went to college in the 90s and didn't know this person in the 80s.
I'm confident that this is boring you.

2006-10-30T08:47:00.001-08:00

My baby boy turned two years old yesterday. We had a party at our house, and the kid got tons of presents, including a Radio Flyer bouncy horse. Remember those?

Last night, after everyone left, I asked him if he had a happy birthday. He shook his head yes and said, "Happy day!" I think his new favorite song is Happy Birthday because after bath time, he sang, "Happy Birthday to ME. Happy Birthday toooo ME!"

I already miss the baby stages. Every morning when I tie his shoes, I think to myself, one day he won't want me to do this; he'll want to do it by himself.

He's growing so fast.

2006-09-27T12:42:00.000-07:00

I see a red door and shutters painted black

I "dislike" stating that things have been busy, blah, blah, blah. It's life, right? And if anyone has free time on his hands, let me know; I can give you a few errands to run. The thing is that no one really cares why you've not posted or written, they may just wonder when you will. Or they may not give a damn about that either.

And you may not give a damn that I'm terribly excited about the exterior of my house being freshly painted, thanks to my fabulously handy father. But I am excited. I live in an older home, and the bricks were painted when I purchased it, so the entire house had to be painted -- not just the wood. To get ideas on what colors to select, I drove around older neighborhoods, those with painted brick houses, too, and took digital photos of the ones I really liked. I probably looked criminal.

My dad started painting last week and wrapped up this week. He's now re-building the deck out back -- the one I may have previously referred to as appearing rickety though it's stable.

I've spent a lot of time staring at the house lately, when I'm not twiddling my thumbs. I see that time increasing exponentially once this deck is complete.

2006-09-19T15:46:00.000-07:00

No words.

Though he might appreciate it if I'd quote some LL Cool J. He was funny like that.

2006-09-13T13:17:00.000-07:00

Hey You
with the stupid hat,
the squinty eyes,
the blemishes that should have long ago disappeared;
Come here.

You, come here
with your messy hair and worn out boots.
But keep the Kerouac paperback
in the Chevy console. Keep your
stories of dogs in snow,
of late nights at the tap house and
of your father providing consumers with fuel for vices.

You worked crosswords
and me,
asking how to spell "feminine."

Go on
and kick an apple core toward my feet.
Hope maybe they'll slow down,
maybe they'll let you catch up to walk me home.

You go on.

2006-09-08T10:42:00.000-07:00

Last night, after taking a well-deserved and much-needed, long, hot shower, using the body wash and deep conditioner I never seem to have time for, I opened the curtain and looked at myself in the mirror. I noticed something that has been missing for nearly two years and decided I wanted it back. I wanted my belly ring back.

I took it out when I was seven months pregnant with Ryder, afraid that my swollen belly and stretched skin would cause that sucker to rip right out on its own. This was somewhat of a monumental activity since I got the piercing when I was 18 and kept it in for 11 years. I was a bit heartbroken at removing it. Just a little.

I thought I'd rush to put it back in as soon as the baby was born, but that wasn't the case. It took a while to get my stomach back to where I felt like decorating it again. Last night was the night.

I layed on the bathroom floor for a good 30 minutes working at getting it through the skin. It hurt. A lot. And for a moment I considered the fact that it might actually be more painful than getting my tattoo was last month. I think it had to do with having to watch it poke through the layers of skin that had closed up over time. But I got it in, and I'm pleased.

Reunited and it feels so good.

2006-08-25T15:06:00.000-07:00

I don't want to wear the same t-shirt everyday, so why would I want to listen to the same genre of music all the time? One must be more open-minded than that.

A friend and I were passing "Do yo chain hang lo?" lyrics back and forth yesterday, laughing at our pop culture knowledge and our embarrassing affection for stupid shit like that, which honestly, can just be plain fun. Like she said, sometimes you just want to shake your ass while under the hairdryer. It's not always about deep, metaphorical lyrics.

So anyway, I've been cheesing it up with frickin' Nickelback lately. I love that shit -- reminds me of "Rock-tober, Roll-vember" with the fricking Eagle station back in 1990. Robin remembers Slaughter and "Fly Back to the Angels." Ask her.

So happy Friday, and here are the latest lyrics blaring through my headphones.

"Show me what it's like to be the last one standing
Teach me wrong from right, and I'll show you what I can be

Say it for me
Say it to me
And I'll leave this life behind me

Say it if it's worth saving me"

Amber is going to be so disappointed. After all of her efforts to introduce me to M. Ward, I'm listening to Nickelback and quoting Jibbs.

2006-08-17T10:43:00.000-07:00

Did I mention that we went to Florida the last weekend in July? It was Ryder's first time at the beach, and we did no more than eat, sleep and swim. It was wonderful.

I finally got around to posting this picture. Maybe I'll get around to writing something about it later. Or maybe not.

2006-08-16T14:17:00.000-07:00

Today has been a very good day. Please take note of the date so that when I say "I've not had a good day in I don't know how long," you can respond with, "Since Aug. 16."

How did I just turn "I had a good day" into a seemingly negative post? I didn't mean it that way; it has been nice.

2006-08-14T08:26:00.000-07:00

Another Item Broken. Add it to the growing list.

In an attempt to get what I thought was possibly one toy out of our subwoofer speaker, I think I may have broken the thing thus paralyzing our entire surround-sound system. The DVD player is hooked into the system, so we can watch Bob, but we can't hear him. This qualifies as a serious household emergency. I have someone (my father) coming to check it out today.

So last night, Ryder and I watched Baby Einstein in his room on my laptop. Also, it turns out that there was not only a star-shaped block in the speaker, but also one of our busy popper balls. Perhaps I should have just let them go missing.

2006-08-09T14:08:00.000-07:00

Because you've been dying to know: my windshield is now in perfect condition. One thing fixed, check.

2006-08-09T11:31:00.000-07:00

I am a sucker. While we still love Bob, Melmo is now in the picture as well. Lord help our household.

2006-08-08T10:20:00.000-07:00

It just goes to show that geniuses need not have cooking skills.

About once a week our company cafe has a particular special that works extremely well for me: a ginormous baked potato, two side items and any size fountain drink for $3.99. How can you beat that?

The best part is that it's enough to feed me at lunch and Ryder at dinner so I totally don't have to worry about that after work. AND it's much more healthy than going through the Wendy's drive thru, even if you can replace the fries with mandarin oranges.

I'm a SuperMom. People ask, "How do you do it?" They are in awe, so don't tell them my secrets, OK?

2006-08-02T14:53:00.000-07:00

It was sometime during the month of May when a rock flew off a truck and hit my windshield while I was traveling west on I-30. May. And what was a chip turned into a crack within thirty minutes, and the crack has been growing ever since. I've marked its growth along the way with a permanent marker.

I find all of this rather symbolic.

So next Tuesday the windshield will be replaced. I'm tired of a constant visual reminder ... I'm just tired of staring at a crack. I want to fix what's broken. I'm starting with the windshield.

2006-07-19T08:27:00.003-07:00

All I've been doing lately, besides trying to catch up on work and going through my daily to-dos, is listening to music. Music, music, music. I haven't done that in a while for some reason, and I guess I'm catching up.

Oh, and I'm reading. You Remind Me of Me. I think I mentioned that. It's really, really good but has taken me awhile because I got sidetracked. I got sidetracked on a lot of things, but I'm back. Pity party over (didn't I say that before, too?). Next, I'm finally going to get around to reading The Kite Runner.

In between those two things, my parents are driving me crazy. That's about it.

2006-07-17T14:51:00.000-07:00

I spent Saturday night having dinner with nine very fun ladies at the latest hotspot. Odd because I'm never out, and I'm definitely not at the latest hotspots.

I felt all cool and flattered when one woman said, "I love your lips, and they're real." I shook my head yes in affirmation that they are indeed real, but she wasn't asking a question. She was making a statement. "Oh, I know," she said. "You can tell the difference."

We were the last people to leave the restaurant, this after 10 tequilla shots were provided to our table courtesy of the front man, I believe. We left there at 1 a.m. I just realized they closed at 11 p.m. But who could kick out 10 ladies singing "Leaving On a Jet Plane" and "Stand up, stand up for Jesus, for God's sakes don't sit down?"

I was one of them for one evening, and it was fun.

I'll post pictures later, but not tomorrow because I'll be without computer tomorrow. I'm getting a new one, and I couldn't be more excited. How pathetic is that?

And finally, try listening to Pink Floyd's Wish You Were Here just one time. You won't be able to; you'll find yourself listening over and over again.

I'm going to miss Amy when she moves at the end of the month. We definitely toasted her Saturday night.

2006-07-13T10:28:00.000-07:00

Because I have little to say lately, I'm posting more words from other people.

"Maybe I didn't really know you. Maybe you were just a mirage. Maybe the world is full of food and sex and spectacle and we're all just hurling towards an apocalypse, in which case it's not your fault. I've been thinking about all these things and ... you're probably standing there monitoring. And one more thing - about the letter. Nuke it. Flame it. Destroy it. - It hurts me to know it's out there. Later."

-- Message left by Lloyd Dobler in the film Say Anything.

I love Lloyd Dobler.

2006-07-12T08:51:00.000-07:00

Shine On, You Crazy Diamond

"It sounds like a pretty nice life, actually, and it's pleasant to think of Barrett ending his days as a vaguely Victorian figure - an odd old Englishman who'd made quite a splash in his youth, tottering through town on two wheels."

This article is a good read.

2006-07-06T21:01:00.000-07:00

How is it that gay guys give the absolute best birthday cards ever? Where do they find this shit, is what I want to know. (I can't wait for my dad to see it displayed on the counter.) And my gift? A combination wrench/key for the water meter with a big ass bow tied around it. It's my favorite gift so far, though it's not officially my birthday until tomorrow.

The other funny thing about this couple of guys ... T always refers to N as "Gladys," because he's in the know about everything in the neighborhood and is usually complaining about neighbors who put their bulky trash out before the appropriate time, calling the city on any derelict cars, etc. I actually relate to the Gladys mind frame and can appreciate someone else doing my dirty work.

Anyway, wish me a happy birthday, bitches.

2006-06-28T09:18:00.000-07:00

I called to make an appointment with my dermatologist, whom I've not seen since 2003, and learned that the earliest appointment available is July 26, which is fine as long as my leg isn't all gangrened by then.

The sore is located between my shin and calf on the inside of my leg and is about the size of a pencil eraser. It feels strange, itches and won't heal. I'm concerned it may be skin cancer, but that seems like an odd place to get skin cancer. I tend to assume the worst though, so I'm just about convinced that's what it is.

The nurse is supposed to call me back today; maybe she can give me an idea of what it might be. Maybe they can get me in sooner before staff infection sets in and my leg has to be amputated. Maybe.

And yeah, I know that gangrene is due to lack of blood flow and that staff would infect my whole body and kill me like that lady who got the bad pedicure, but so what. So my post isn't medically accurate.

I also need the doc to look at my ear. It's really fucked up, my ear. I've actually had this place on it that I constantly pick at for about two years. Yeah, I know it's gross, but I'm a picker and this I blame on anxiety. I doubt my ear will fall off though B has told me numerous times that it will. I hope he's wrong because I don't think I'd look so hot with a missing leg and no ear. Looking hot is more important than walking and hearing(?). Would I still be able to hear on that side?

Both places are on my right side. Coincidence? Who knows. Perhaps I really should be making an appointment with my shrink instead of my dermatologist.

2006-06-26T12:56:00.000-07:00

God bless freelancing.

2006-06-26T11:34:00.000-07:00

I've been craving french fries and ranch dressing all day, and I finally got them. French fries and ranch are good for Mondays, especially when you're returning from a three-day weekend.

2006-06-21T13:00:00.000-07:00

I just looked through the pictures on my Text America site, and it's amazing to see how much Ryder has changed. I can't believe how big he is or how fast he's grown. I'm sure I'll be saying this same thing a year from now.

Also, massages are totally worth it (even if you return to the office with your eyelashes all clumped and mashed together).

Finally, please remember to grab your keys off the monster Scott toilet paper holder when exiting the Target bathroom. Otherwise, you could end up at the check-out totally confused, with a large salesperson in a red shirt and khaki pants checking with customer service's lost and found. Once you find your keys on that gigantic toilet paper holder, you'll then have to call off the dogs who've decided to help you find them and explain that the mystery's solved; you simply left your keys with Scott.

2006-06-20T13:29:00.000-07:00

My diet, along with other obvious external factors like sleep, probably has much to do with how I'm feeling these days. Truth be told, I'm leading up to and attempting to justify my decision to hit the spa during lunch today.

It was a last minute massage appointment, made hastily 45 minutes in advance, but I'm glad I scheduled it because this time it's the back that ails me in addition to the tension headaches. Have I mentioned that even my big toe hurts? Perhaps I need a new mattress and a toe pillow?

And since ~A suggested I mention boobs, as Lorie has recently. For the record: My boobs are fine. They are exceptions to my body's current rule of aches and pains; they may be gifted with super powers. At this point I cannot be certain.

2006-06-16T09:03:00.000-07:00

I was only able to watch portions of last night's interview, but my mom TiVO'd it so I can watch the rest later. I don't think I missed much, as most of the highlights were on the Internet.

I'm going to whine now and bore you some more because, like I said, I've not much to write about these days. Whining: I seem to have a permanent tension headache. I may OD on Advil soon. Sharing: I'm glad it's Friday, and I'm practicing gratitude. It's a good exercise.

2006-06-15T11:12:00.000-07:00

I can't help it ... my television will so not be playing Bob the Builder at 8 p.m. CT. I'll be watching this Dateline interview with Britney. I'm working our entire schedule around it tonight. I obviously don't have TiVO.

It's so bad, ya'll, but I can't help watching the gum smackin' and the talk of being "country" as an excuse for driving with your baby in your lap. I'm seriously not judging; it's just sort of like watching an accident. And when I feel down, I'm just glad I don't have her life.

I might be going to hell.

2006-06-02T12:25:00.000-07:00

I never knew that finding a single cheerio in one's purse, particularly during a very intense meeting, could make the entire day shine more brightly.

2006-05-31T14:06:00.000-07:00

Thought for the day:
Honestly, no one cares if my life has blemishes all over its ass.

Secretly their lives do, too. (A wise friend and I agreed on just this today.)

2006-05-23T09:41:00.000-07:00

All About Ryder
(Inspired by Taylor)

So I haven't had much to share lately, no stories or anything really. I read Taylor's post about Parker and decided that I, too, should post an update on my boy. He'll be 19 months old next Monday, which is really hard to believe.

It seems he's learning something new every day. He's really starting to talk, and like P-Dog, he's telling me when he has a BM (a.k.a. POOP). He actually goes and gets the diaper for me, saying "diaper, diaper, diaper." He wants that dirty one off! We're starting to potty train a bit, but he always wants to go to the potty after he's already gone potty. He's not good at telling me in advance. But it's OK, because we're totally not rushing and just sort of waiting for him to really figure it out. He's starting to do so.

Ryder says "Mama" about a hundred times a day. He says it over and over and over, sometimes for no reason at all. I just mimic him and say "Ryder" repeatedly right back. Now when he really wants something, he'll whine, and say "Mommeee." That's when he's working it.

One of his newest phrases is "I love you." The first time he ever said it was on the phone earlier this month when I was in Raleigh. It about made my heart burst and overflow with love.

He loves smoothies and is still a big eater, weighing in at 27 lbs., though he's 33 inches tall. One thing he likes better than food is Bob the Builder. Since the grandparents' awareness of this affection for Bob, Ryder has received more videos than he can watch, Bob pajamas, several of "the machines," including Roley, Muck, Scoop, Scrambler and Benny. He also has a vehicle shelter where the machines sleep at night. Yes, I realize he has inherited my crazy gene.

Further proof of this, is his anal retentive behavior. He has to put everything back in its place before bed, before we leave, first thing in the morning, etc. For example, there are these two "babies" (stuffed toys) that go on the shelf above his bed. He's recently decided they need to go to bed with him, but when he wakes up in the morning, and I go to get him, he lets me know that those babies go back on the shelf. He also gets upset if you do things out of order. Weird, I know, but so much like me that it's scary. It's strange, but the doctor said it's nothing to worry about. It's not a sign of autism or anything like that, though it could possibly be a sign of a little OCD. BIG surprise, eh? Right now, everyone just thinks it's cute and helpful. We'll see how cute it is when he's 30.

So Ryder's doing well. Learning and always wanting to help feed the dog, water the flowers, sweep the floor, etc. It's amazing to watch him grow, to see how he just absorbs things like a sponge. And man, is that kid lovable. I could go on and on, but well, I think that's enough today. I do know I need to post some new pictures.

2006-05-16T08:04:00.000-07:00

The forces were against my getting a Pop Tart this morning, but I overcame them. I think I've mentioned before that every other floor in our building either has a soda machine or a snack machine. My floor has a snack machine that ran out of Pop Tarts a week ago; I think I double-handedly consumed them. Two floors up, the snack machine is out of order; two floors down, the sucker won't take dollar bills; four floors down, I finally got my Pop Tarts.

But Pop Tarts weren't enough. I had to go down to the cafe and grab a muffin. And yes, I am PMS'ing.

2006-05-09T10:17:00.000-07:00

Really, I have nothing for you these days; I wish I did. This is not to say that life is boring because it's far from that, but it's not the good kind of action occurring. I'm sure I'll share more when the time is appropriate, if the time is ever appropriate. I don't know.

Work's going really well. Really well, I said. It and my boy are my two areas of focus right now, so I'm experiencing my share of pleasure in the midst of a bunch of crappity-crap crap.

And have you seen my chili peppers? Watching them grow from seeds we took out of a dried pepper strand (that we brought back from New Mexico in '04) makes me happy. They're the prettiest shade of red.

2006-05-03T19:49:00.000-07:00

Walking down long corridors in hotels always makes me think of The Shining. The hotel room in Raleigh doesn't quite compare to The Paris in Las Vegas, not to mention that my best partner in crime isn't here to celebrate it with me. At the same time, the landscape is amazing, so then, there's that.

There's this old school plaque on the desk, like one I received in middle school for being on The A Team for receiving all A's in the seventh and eighth grades, that proclaims "Complimentary High Speed Internet Access," and the airport is only a half mile away.

This place has its benefits.

2006-04-30T20:43:00.000-07:00

I love when people compare having a baby to having a dog. Because yeah, having a baby is JUST like having a dog. People like T can totally attest to it.

2006-04-24T15:08:00.000-07:00

See, it's not just you, so don't take it personally.

-----Original Message-----
Sent: Monday, April 24, 2006 11:19 AM

A guy can really starve to death waiting for you to take him to lunch. I'm sure you're busy, but I know you have to eat. Let's do lunch soon. :)

Your hungry friend,

SS

2006-04-14T10:43:00.000-07:00

I cannot yet report back on the book I referenced in my last post because I've not read it during the past three days. I hate when I do that; I have to read a little everyday or I start forgetting things. I think it has something to do with being an overloaded mama. I don't know. Anyway, it's good so far.

We saw Phantom of the Opera at the Music Hall at Fair Park Wednesday night. It was really very good, and we had great seats (mainly because I bought the tickets for my husband back in December and gave them to him for Christmas). Yes, it was HIS gift because he's the Phantom fan, but I enjoyed it as well. The thing is, we didn't get home until late, and then I had to be in Plano at 8 a.m. for a Habitat project in which my employer is involved and for which I'd volunteered.

You'll recall I just returned from Vegas last Friday; I still haven't caught up on sleep from that trip. And I just found out I have to book another trip next month, though luckily not to Vegas.

So ... just very busy, and very ready for the weekend. Have a Happy Easter everyone.

2006-04-12T14:49:00.000-07:00

If you haven't already, you should watch this. It's fucking awesome, but bear in mind that, as a child, I was obsessed with the film Kramer vs. Kramer. The two are absolutely nothing alike.

I'm currently reading this; I may command you to read it later, after I've finished, and only if I've determined it worthy of your time.

2006-04-10T14:57:00.000-07:00

I am strong. We should arm wrestle.

2006-04-06T00:40:00.000-07:00

I have had fun. I still miss my boy, but I've had some fun ...

... when I wasn't standing seven hours on a trade show floor in pumps; when I wasn't going this same amount of time without eating and with only two bathroom breaks; when I wasn't holding a company sign in a local casino like folks you see at airports: "This way if you are this person!"

I've had fun, though not much sleep or relaxation.

Also, I head home Friday and cannot wait to have a diet coke. For real, you just can't get one in this town.

2006-03-28T10:52:00.000-08:00

Work is crazy nuts right now and will remain so until April 8. I'm even having assistance with daycare pick-up this week because I really need to stay late at work, which totally sucks because I have less time with my boy in the evening.

AND, I leave next Tuesday for Vegas. I'll be away from him for three nights, and I don't know how I'll handle it. I mean, I know I'll be busy and all, and there will be some fun involved, but I'm just going to worry and really miss him. And really worry.

To top it all off, between this crazy week and the flight out we'll have GUESTS over the weekend - as if I won't be stressed enough. So I'll have no break, and the guests are my in-laws. (This is different than my *favorite* aunt visiting because, well, I can just be me and wear my jammies in front of her and what not, and I don't feel like I have to entertain her, and well - and this is the BIGGEST part - she doesn't get on my nerves.)

Oh, and I tried to do our taxes last night and I think we actually owe money. A lot.

I'm not having such a great Tuesday; someone stole my optimism. I feel sorry for the poor intern candidate I'm about to interview this afternoon.

2006-03-24T15:03:00.000-08:00

It's Friday, and I have a date with my husband to see Lucinda Williams play at the Lakewood Theater tonight. The baby's staying overnight with my Dad, and while this will probably make me terribly anxious after the show, right now I'm terribly excited.

I've been listening to Prince's Kiss for the past hour. Seriously, I know it's super old and whatnot, but try listening, and you can't help but get all happy and shit.

2006-03-23T10:19:00.000-08:00

Some days good stuff comes; I wish it came everyday.

Some days I just want to crawl under the covers and peek out only to watch that stupid GNR video I've referenced before that takes me back to 1992, when I was certain that I could fix all those angsty boys I dated, when I was certain I'd eventually become engaged to Shannon Hoon after college graduation. But alas, he became a father and then OD'd in the middle of my studies. I had planned to save him, but I guess I was too busy with editing courses and summer rush. Plus, he never returned my calls.

I moved on from angsty boys for a brief period. I latched on to those who believed themselves normal, quite a perky bunch, thinking their perceived normalcy might rub off on me. Eventually, I went back to finding those most like myself, thinking that if I could fix them, all that was broken inside of me might simultaneously be repaired.

If you knew me in real life, you'd know that as I roll the toothpaste tube from the bottom up, I actually use a bobby pin to secure it in place; that I make plans for outings that seem like fun but then stress once the date arrives because it throws off my routine.

Keeping order doesn't prevent chaos, and worrying in advance won't lessen the blow of a tragedy that may or may never happen. And no one can ever fix another person.

Simple lessons, right?

2006-03-20T10:43:00.000-08:00

Two days out and 200+ messages to go through can make a girl's brain sore. I'm taking a rest, on your behalf. That's a lie.

I was digging through an old box -- a box from my previous office that I hauled up north with me and stuck in a cabinet to sit for the past two years -- looking for pictures, the few I saved that weren't incriminating. I found those few.

The negatives are gone, most of the photos are gone, and I guess I chunked the disk, too. The pictures weren't saved to the computer; the sent emails with photo attachments are also gone. I did some good work. And I'm not sure why I'm even looking for them now. Really, it has more to do with me than with anything ... sometimes I look back with a better understanding of my actions, behavior, etc., but sometimes the answers don't come as easily and I have to search more intently.

I made a choice and I've been sort of wondering, imagining, fantasizing, what-have-you, what might have happened if I had made a different one. One shouldn't indulge in mind games of this sort. But the thing is, I have this strange sense that I'd be in the exact same place regardless, especially after some recent correspondence and information I've received. Things happen as they're supposed to, and I'm supposed to be right here.

His will, not mine, be done.

And I also wonder how two people, not having ever met one another, have ended up in such similar places right now. It makes me love them both for very different reasons. And it reinforces that I am in this place because I'm supposed to be here.

Digging through those photographs in the box, I realized that I have very few recent pictures of myself. When cameras are around now days, they're clicking away, aimed at my boy (I certainly don't blame the photographers; the boy's cuter than I am). But as a result, I don't have any recent pictures. I should have some taken, see if I recognize myself.

Looking through that box today, I found a lot of me.

Paul Simon sings, "A good day ain't got no rain. A bad day is when I lay in bed and think of things that might have been."

But nostalgia isn't all bad. Some things just make you wonder ... and learn.

2006-03-15T11:19:00.000-08:00

Bring Your Green Hat