I am in a (re)structuring phase of my life. I'm trying to do little things, to help me on the margins, which will hopefully lead me to small happinesses, which will in turn hopefully lead to leaps of joy. (But I have to get in better shape first, or I might twist an ankle or pull a muscle in my wild abandon.)
Part of doing this is doing things to take care of myself. So I'm making some changes. I decided I was going to get a fresh start.
First step: Crosstrainers. I hate shoe shopping, mostly because my feet don't fit into any old shoe, so I don't even like to try. I'd like to think I have Cinderella's capability of capturing the interest of the prince, but sadly, the feet of one of her stepsisters. (Shh. Don't tell him yet.) So I thought to myself, "Self. This isn't so hard. You've worn this type of shoe for years. You saw some for sale just a couple months ago, but for whatever reason, you did not buy them. Buy them. The time is now. The bell tolls for thee, well-worn footwear!"
So I got online, to my favorite retailer. You all know what company I speak of. I look online. No footwear. None. I check other places. I even am thinking, "whatever, I will pay a ton of money plus obscene shipping and handling to get this problem taken care of. Nothing!!! So now I am like Shoeless Joe. Soon I will be limping about in the rain. I must fix this problem, but I must finish this list first.
Second step: Rainjacket. For where I live, I need the following: a. water-resistant and/or -proof; b. extended hood; c. knee-length; d. wind-resistant; and e. (for me) under $150. I would say $100, but read on. I go online to what used to be my second-favorite clothes retailer, but is steadily gaining on the #1 spot. It has 2 L's in it. I search for 3/4 length jacket. Five choices come up. None of them looks like the old coat I have. I call the customer help line. No, they don't make them anymore, and yes, now they all are ugly and $150. I am desperate. My rainjacket doesn't keep out the rain anymore. But I'm not desperate enough to buy one in pink. The lady says they have my size in Very Berry. I say I think I'll try the size bigger in Bright Elm. She says there aren't enough left to have them on the website, even, so I jump at the chance. Big mistake. Literally. The reviews say the coat runs big. Gah.
Third step: Replace loved sandals. I have these sandals that I love to wear. They're the first pair I've ever worn and liked that had something between my toes. Do they sell them anymore? No. Did I buy the first pair online? Yes. Do you sense a pattern here?!?!?!? I'm telling you, people, if you shop online and find something you like, buy a zillion of it and store them in the back of the closet or even under the sink if you have to, or you might end up like me. But it gets worse!
Third Step: Replace Slippers. Not any slippers. Wicked good ones. Only they don't make 'em like they used to. Who wants backless slippers?!?!??!!? Mine have a hole in them after constant wearing in the cold NW winter. Six months ago they didn't have the style I wanted, looks-wise...now they have an approximation, but there's just enough of a back to be annoying, and not enough to actually keep my Achilles warm. Yes, my Achilles gets cold. Doesn't yours? So now I have to buy UGLY ones for $60, or have my feet perish in the cold and dreary winter. I need black. And white. And comfort. And none can be found at reasonable inconvenience.
Fourth Step Comfort jacket. I've got this seersucker jacket that I wear everywhere. It's lemon yellow. I don't like lemon yellow. But it keeps me warm when I'm cold, and cool when it's hot, and so I wear it everywhere. I tried to see if they still made them, even when my mom told me she hadn't seen them in awhile. Do they make even an approximation? No.
Fifth Step: Suitcoat Jacket. I have two black ones. I lost weight so I thought I'd get another one. Do they have it? Nein. It's not even a sizing issue, it's just that they don't make them anymore.
Sixth Step: Yoga pants. I have these black pants I wear a lot. I got them when I was 16. Feel free to cringe. But they are soft and lovely and don't have holes yet so I still wear them in public. Do they make pants like this anymore? No. It's all weird modal waists and 100% polyester or super skintight.
Seventh Step: Bookcase. I broke a commandment for years. I coveted a dark cherry bookcase that my mom bought, and then she gave it to my sister, and I always wanted it. It got left in Chicago. I'm looking online now, as I need some bookcases, and I realize that with inflation prices have gone up, but they just don't make them anymore!
Etc. Same with furniture like the stuff my parents have - they've had the same kitchen table since I can remember. I wanted to buy one like it for my house, when I have a house. But the company went out of business. My grandparents have some of the same kind, and they're about 40 years old. They're still comfy.
Why don't they make 'em like they used to???????
Result: Frustration!
I'll let you know if I find any replacements for the things I need for the things I love.
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Emotional Elevator Analysis
This is my elevator analysis of how emotions can sometimes go, instead of numbers/trends, like at work.
Using work (or not) terminology:
Black = banker terminology (acceptable)
Blue = words I would use, but would get me a raised eyebrow for banker appropriateness
Red = words have zero place being in an underwriting
peak
float descend skyrocket
hill incline slant / flail trend...end
up dip rise dwindle minimal/stable / creep
climb flop increase shin splints slope \ /
decrease plunge plummet
Using work (or not) terminology:
Black = banker terminology (acceptable)
Blue = words I would use, but would get me a raised eyebrow for banker appropriateness
Red = words have zero place being in an underwriting
peak
float descend skyrocket
hill incline slant / flail trend...end
up dip rise dwindle minimal/stable / creep
climb flop increase shin splints slope \ /
decrease plunge plummet
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Birthday
Yesterday, I thought of you all day, R. About your many good traits - the habits/processes I observed in you that I want to emulate; I also thought of your cheerful smile, your way with words, your love of buttery sweet goodness, and fresh fruit shakes.
I've decided that I don't like summertime heat because the last time it was hot, you were here, but so so sick, in the sterile-yet-seemingly-dirty hospital. The heat now reminds me that you are here no longer.
My heart and soul remember you. I know you are at peace, and that you stop by once in awhile to see how I am. I appreciate it, as I appreciated all the small (and big) things you did for me while you were here.
Happy would-be 29th, R.
I've decided that I don't like summertime heat because the last time it was hot, you were here, but so so sick, in the sterile-yet-seemingly-dirty hospital. The heat now reminds me that you are here no longer.
My heart and soul remember you. I know you are at peace, and that you stop by once in awhile to see how I am. I appreciate it, as I appreciated all the small (and big) things you did for me while you were here.
Happy would-be 29th, R.
Friday, June 17, 2011
Whirly Word Love
Here are the first letters in the first name of every person in my immediate family:
D S N T W A J R L D V K I
We love words. We heart them muchly. We syntax, debate, spell, and rearrange.
I downloaded an app on my ipod called "whirly word." It's kind of a stupid app but it can distract me while I'm waiting at the doctor's office for a few minutes, or waiting for a haircut, or waiting in the airport, etc.
The app gives you six letters in a wheel and you have to find all the word combinations that can be made from those six letters.
The rules are as follows:
1. The word has to have at least three letters;
2. Each letter given can only be used once per word;
3. No proper nouns; and
4. (I added this) No plurals.
In honor of the love I have for my family, here are the words made up of the first letter of the first name of the first circle of my family.
D S N T W A J R L D V K I
We love words. We heart them muchly. We syntax, debate, spell, and rearrange.
I downloaded an app on my ipod called "whirly word." It's kind of a stupid app but it can distract me while I'm waiting at the doctor's office for a few minutes, or waiting for a haircut, or waiting in the airport, etc.
The app gives you six letters in a wheel and you have to find all the word combinations that can be made from those six letters.
The rules are as follows:
1. The word has to have at least three letters;
2. Each letter given can only be used once per word;
3. No proper nouns; and
4. (I added this) No plurals.
In honor of the love I have for my family, here are the words made up of the first letter of the first name of the first circle of my family.
There are, of course, probably many many more words than these. Feel free to comment and notify me of ones I missed. Even if it doesn't mean love to you like it does to me, at least we share a love of words. |
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Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Pomegranate Love
(Sung to the tune of "My love is like a red, red rose")
My love is a large pomegrante, plucked fresh from the tree
My love contains an aril sweet, tart juices bursting free
Though you must dig to find the fruit, and pay old Hades' fee
My love will stain your stubborn heart, and you will ne'er be free
My love's sequestered deep inside, a gem inside a mine
My love's a tough extraction job, it's delicate and fine
Can't push too much or pull too hard, or else the ruby breaks
And leaves its bright red tears behind, hearts' ransom it forsakes.
But if you find the precious fruit, and nourish it with love
The seed that's planted will grow strong, as if blessed from above
And it will bear a love so rare; one money cannot buy:
A tender heart, sincere soft words, a lovelight in the eye.
My love is a large pomegrante, plucked fresh from the tree
My love contains an aril sweet, tart juices bursting free
Though you must dig to find the fruit, and pay old Hades' fee
My love will stain your stubborn heart, and you will ne'er be free
My love's sequestered deep inside, a gem inside a mine
My love's a tough extraction job, it's delicate and fine
Can't push too much or pull too hard, or else the ruby breaks
And leaves its bright red tears behind, hearts' ransom it forsakes.
But if you find the precious fruit, and nourish it with love
The seed that's planted will grow strong, as if blessed from above
And it will bear a love so rare; one money cannot buy:
A tender heart, sincere soft words, a lovelight in the eye.
Saturday, June 11, 2011
headache
Headaches are caused by:
1. Not enough water
2. Music that's too loud
3. Grinding your teeth
4. High pitched whining noises
5. Hitting your head on something
6. Lack of sleep or food
7. Staring at a computer screen for too long
Some days, I get exposed to six out of seven and manage not to get a headache. Not too bad.
Some days, one hit from the list is all it takes.
Headaches are different than brain aches. Brain aches are when you use your head a lot at work and are mentally tired out. The cure for brain ache is to (when time permits) go home and rest your noodle.
Headaches are cured by (not in any particular order):
1. Magic blue pills, also known as painkillers, can't remember the name right now (because I have a headache)
2. Sleep
3. Drinking water
4. Going for a walk
5. Concentrating on something else besides the pain...sometimes known as deep breathing exercises
Now for the obligatory cheesy poem about today:
Head ache, go away. Don't come back another day.
Sunshine, here to stay. Summer's here, it's one fine day.
1. Not enough water
2. Music that's too loud
3. Grinding your teeth
4. High pitched whining noises
5. Hitting your head on something
6. Lack of sleep or food
7. Staring at a computer screen for too long
Some days, I get exposed to six out of seven and manage not to get a headache. Not too bad.
Some days, one hit from the list is all it takes.
Headaches are different than brain aches. Brain aches are when you use your head a lot at work and are mentally tired out. The cure for brain ache is to (when time permits) go home and rest your noodle.
Headaches are cured by (not in any particular order):
1. Magic blue pills, also known as painkillers, can't remember the name right now (because I have a headache)
2. Sleep
3. Drinking water
4. Going for a walk
5. Concentrating on something else besides the pain...sometimes known as deep breathing exercises
Now for the obligatory cheesy poem about today:
Head ache, go away. Don't come back another day.
Sunshine, here to stay. Summer's here, it's one fine day.
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
I Have Decided: Part I
1. Geraniums smell awful.
2. It takes some serious lack of sense to anticipate the light by shoving your board across the road. It takes serious skill and command of your 'board to glide down an 8% grade hill in rush hour traffic. It takes some serious luck to not get hit doing either.
3. High-pitched noises are almost never a good omen.
4. I have a weakness for games involving fish tanks. Perhaps it's some vestige of a psychological phenomenon from my childhood - or perhaps it's just that I can have fish without having to actually clean the smelly, dirty tank.
5. I like to watch crowds, but not be part of them...at least, not on foot. Perhaps if they parted like the Red Sea whenever I wished to go someplace I would like it better. I like crowds at baseball games. But not if it's just milling about and people are pressed up against me because there's no room to walk.
6. Getting upgraded to a suite at a 4 star hotel is decidedly awesome.
7. Sitting next to people on airplanes who are a. taking up more than their fair seat room; b. drink coffee; c. smell strongly; or d. all of the above is not my favorite thing to do.
8. I still don't like the TSA.
9. Lady GaGa could really use some more variety in what passes as 'music.'
10. Sometimes, the view is worth the climb.
2. It takes some serious lack of sense to anticipate the light by shoving your board across the road. It takes serious skill and command of your 'board to glide down an 8% grade hill in rush hour traffic. It takes some serious luck to not get hit doing either.
3. High-pitched noises are almost never a good omen.
4. I have a weakness for games involving fish tanks. Perhaps it's some vestige of a psychological phenomenon from my childhood - or perhaps it's just that I can have fish without having to actually clean the smelly, dirty tank.
5. I like to watch crowds, but not be part of them...at least, not on foot. Perhaps if they parted like the Red Sea whenever I wished to go someplace I would like it better. I like crowds at baseball games. But not if it's just milling about and people are pressed up against me because there's no room to walk.
6. Getting upgraded to a suite at a 4 star hotel is decidedly awesome.
7. Sitting next to people on airplanes who are a. taking up more than their fair seat room; b. drink coffee; c. smell strongly; or d. all of the above is not my favorite thing to do.
8. I still don't like the TSA.
9. Lady GaGa could really use some more variety in what passes as 'music.'
10. Sometimes, the view is worth the climb.
Thursday, May 26, 2011
Clammy
near sweat, close to cold
partially warm, not dry or wet
uncomfy limbo
a state of being
associated with nerves,
handholds, and fever
partially warm, not dry or wet
uncomfy limbo
a state of being
associated with nerves,
handholds, and fever
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Echoes
A Poem for Two Voices
Give up Give up
says the hammer of stress
beating a tattoo of drudgery
on your dreams on your dreams
Give up Give up
sing the fog horns
in forlorn low tones
letting the light of hope fade
to a glimmer
shimmer
mirage
in the distance
All right All right
says your heart
countering with its lonely tattoo
a solitary thump without echo
...... echo?
What? What?
Stop.
Did you hear?
A voice
Small and soft
In the background
Nervous at first, then growing stubborn and
Strong Strong, calling out
In a loud, singing echo:
I won't
I won't
I can't
I can't
think that working
and toiling
and fearing
is the whole story
I'll hope a new sun I'll hope
a new moon
a new faith
a new song
is just beyond my
Reach Reach
Give up Give up
says the hammer of stress
beating a tattoo of drudgery
on your dreams on your dreams
Give up Give up
sing the fog horns
in forlorn low tones
letting the light of hope fade
to a glimmer
shimmer
mirage
in the distance
All right All right
says your heart
countering with its lonely tattoo
a solitary thump without echo
...... echo?
What? What?
Stop.
Did you hear?
A voice
Small and soft
In the background
Nervous at first, then growing stubborn and
Strong Strong, calling out
In a loud, singing echo:
I won't
I won't
I can't
I can't
think that working
and toiling
and fearing
is the whole story
I'll hope a new sun I'll hope
a new moon
a new faith
a new song
is just beyond my
Reach Reach
Monday, May 16, 2011
Playoff Time
R,
It's playoff time...my first playoff season without you.
I thought about you all day yesterday...
Love you, miss you.
It's playoff time...my first playoff season without you.
I thought about you all day yesterday...
- the blueberry shakes we used to make together
- the Pens games we got excited about
- the SSMB (brawl) games you always dominated
- yes, even as Yoshi
- reading aloud to you
- singing old timey songs on the projector (but never country)
- listening to Linger
- chattering away to your listening ear
- watching J kiss your smiling face
Love you, miss you.
Sunday, May 8, 2011
Recipe
How to Bake a Breakup:
Ingredients:
Broken heart
Numb brain
Water
Prep Time: Depends on the maker, and the relationship
Steps:
1. Break heart into little pieces. Place in medium sized mixing bowl.
Be numb from shock.
2. Add water.
Cry your eyes out.
3. Mix heart and water together.
After you've wrung every tear out of you, go to sleep exhausted.
4. Chill overnight. Re-read recipe.
Be confused. Ask yourself why you broke up. Is it a horrible nightmare you can't wake up from? (Is it just that you forgot the salt, and that's why it tastes so nearly inedible?)
5. Realize you mixed the heart and water in wrong proportions.
Be despondent. Wail in frustration. Tell yourself you'll never find another who takes care of you so well, or that there was someone better for you anyway. Add a sniff and foot stamp and if you are really feeling adventurous, add a few ounces of self-pity.
6. Turn on the oven to "bake" and the proper setting. (It won't be 350 degrees for every person). As the oven preheats, stew and plan and reanalyze every little thing you each said in the last few days before the breakup.
7. Re-read the recipe. Repeat steps 2-6 over and over, to varying degrees.
When you have the mixture just about right, dump the heart and water mixture into a casserole dish and bake until hardened. Bake times very depending on how finicky the oven is and if you like it chewy or hard.
Note: Best served room temperature. Please limit servings. And serving size....
Ingredients:
Broken heart
Numb brain
Water
Prep Time: Depends on the maker, and the relationship
Steps:
1. Break heart into little pieces. Place in medium sized mixing bowl.
Be numb from shock.
2. Add water.
Cry your eyes out.
3. Mix heart and water together.
After you've wrung every tear out of you, go to sleep exhausted.
4. Chill overnight. Re-read recipe.
Be confused. Ask yourself why you broke up. Is it a horrible nightmare you can't wake up from? (Is it just that you forgot the salt, and that's why it tastes so nearly inedible?)
5. Realize you mixed the heart and water in wrong proportions.
Be despondent. Wail in frustration. Tell yourself you'll never find another who takes care of you so well, or that there was someone better for you anyway. Add a sniff and foot stamp and if you are really feeling adventurous, add a few ounces of self-pity.
6. Turn on the oven to "bake" and the proper setting. (It won't be 350 degrees for every person). As the oven preheats, stew and plan and reanalyze every little thing you each said in the last few days before the breakup.
7. Re-read the recipe. Repeat steps 2-6 over and over, to varying degrees.
When you have the mixture just about right, dump the heart and water mixture into a casserole dish and bake until hardened. Bake times very depending on how finicky the oven is and if you like it chewy or hard.
Note: Best served room temperature. Please limit servings. And serving size....
Saturday, April 30, 2011
when in need of a laugh
For some reason, I find this link extremely funny: http://dagobah.net/flash/fanten.swf
That is all.
(I feel certain no animals were harmed in the making of this film.)
Maybe I posted it already, but if I did...it still makes me smile.
That is all.
(I feel certain no animals were harmed in the making of this film.)
Maybe I posted it already, but if I did...it still makes me smile.
Friday, April 29, 2011
departmenting licenses
Today I was watching Bones, organizing my bills and sorting through my (mostly) junk mail. I was congratulating myself on being productive while entertaining myself, when I came upon my car registration renewal paperwork (sadly, not junk). I put it in my "I will deal with this when I am done with the junk mail pile", but as my hand was moving back to the stack in front of me, I realized that I was proverbially dead meat, and my heart started beating a little bit faster.
On Ides of April, aka Tax Day, I went to get my license to drive renewed. The DOL (not labor, but licensing) mailed my license to me. I put it in my Very Important Paper pile (not to be confused with the "I will deal with this when I am done with the junk mail pile" - not only because one involves capitalization for emphasis and the other quotation marks, but also because, erm...not only always goes with but also grammatically, so I had to stick one in).
*cough*
Then Certain Events happened and my mind got scrambled. I knew exactly where it was as of Sunday afternoon, but now I have no recollection of where my new license is. It's not in either stack of papers - quotations or capitalizations. It's not even in junk mail. It's not with the stack of languishing Christian Science Monitors, nor is it in the newly filed non-junk, but bills pile. It's not where it was on Sunday, and it's not in the garbage, it's not the recyclables. It's not in the couch, it's not on the kitchen counter, it's not in the bed, and it's not in the closet.
My mind can't relax because I can see the license clearly in my mind's eye, exactly where it was on Sunday. I moved it to make room for food (I am now cursing the food in retrospect out of immature spite) and I have no idea where I put it.
My temporary license expires soon. I really don't want to go pay the $45 again, and stand in line again, and hold up my car registration to boot. My apartment just isn't that big. Where could it be?!?!
I am entering the department of crazy, all over this silly license business.
And perhaps the saddest thing about this is that the episode of Bones was to introduce (perhaps) a spinoff show, where there's this guy whose name is Walter, who has the talent of being a "finder." Seriously. You name it, he finds it, no matter if it seems impossible. It's due to some weird brain thing he sustained while he was a POW in Iraq. But anyway...I was thinking, if he came up to me right now and asked me what he could find for me, I'd tell him nothing, because I haven't lost anything. And then I realized a few minutes later that I was missing my license and I wanted to say "oh snap" but I didn't, and then I just rolled my eyes (this was pre-panic) and decided to add the copy of my 2009 tax return to the "needs finding" list. Unsurprisingly, I have found neither, and wish I had a Walter.
On Ides of April, aka Tax Day, I went to get my license to drive renewed. The DOL (not labor, but licensing) mailed my license to me. I put it in my Very Important Paper pile (not to be confused with the "I will deal with this when I am done with the junk mail pile" - not only because one involves capitalization for emphasis and the other quotation marks, but also because, erm...not only always goes with but also grammatically, so I had to stick one in).
*cough*
Then Certain Events happened and my mind got scrambled. I knew exactly where it was as of Sunday afternoon, but now I have no recollection of where my new license is. It's not in either stack of papers - quotations or capitalizations. It's not even in junk mail. It's not with the stack of languishing Christian Science Monitors, nor is it in the newly filed non-junk, but bills pile. It's not where it was on Sunday, and it's not in the garbage, it's not the recyclables. It's not in the couch, it's not on the kitchen counter, it's not in the bed, and it's not in the closet.
My mind can't relax because I can see the license clearly in my mind's eye, exactly where it was on Sunday. I moved it to make room for food (I am now cursing the food in retrospect out of immature spite) and I have no idea where I put it.
My temporary license expires soon. I really don't want to go pay the $45 again, and stand in line again, and hold up my car registration to boot. My apartment just isn't that big. Where could it be?!?!
I am entering the department of crazy, all over this silly license business.
And perhaps the saddest thing about this is that the episode of Bones was to introduce (perhaps) a spinoff show, where there's this guy whose name is Walter, who has the talent of being a "finder." Seriously. You name it, he finds it, no matter if it seems impossible. It's due to some weird brain thing he sustained while he was a POW in Iraq. But anyway...I was thinking, if he came up to me right now and asked me what he could find for me, I'd tell him nothing, because I haven't lost anything. And then I realized a few minutes later that I was missing my license and I wanted to say "oh snap" but I didn't, and then I just rolled my eyes (this was pre-panic) and decided to add the copy of my 2009 tax return to the "needs finding" list. Unsurprisingly, I have found neither, and wish I had a Walter.
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