It's NOT Rocket Science!

Master Plan, Phase 2: On Hold

2012-01-07T22:44:00.001-07:00

Somehow, I am not quite sure how, I arrived at the plan to adopt an older dog *AND* a puppy in 2012. Luckily Iggy seems agreeable to it all. He's never had 2 dogs at the same time. I've only had 2 dogs at the same time for a couple of years (prior to moving out of that house/relationship). So it is a little outside our comfort zone.

I know I mentioned before that I had always wanted to adopt older dogs because I worry they won't get a second chance. But I don't view that as excluding me from adopting a puppy too.

But first to see if Phase 1 of the plan was going ok. We took Radar to the vet yesterday. I was worried about:1: his weight (too skinny)2: his back leg (hip displaysia? arthritis? too late to do anything?)3: his hearing (either his name really isn't Radar, or he has "selective hearing" or he's deaf)

The vet was a funny little man. Very bookish. Prone to acting out his diagnosis (the loping imitation of hip displaysia was sorta funny). And he drew out a couple of diagrams about hip displaysia versus arthritis on a paper towel for me to take home. He told me that "adopting older dogs is like a mystery -- you see lots of clues but really have to guess at what the history is since you can't just ask them."

At that point we were talking about his hips and walking ability. Radar seemed not to care if the vet moved his back legs all around (the adoption vet said she was unable to extend his back right leg). The vet was speculating about whether the issue was genetic (hip displaysia) or arthritis (the vet thought perhaps Radar was hit by a car at some point -- does this really happen and the dog lives?). Radar's back legs both show muscle atrophy and especially on the right side. In fact, his right side is noticeably smaller than the left.

And his waist is too small. The vet seemed disappointed that Radar didn't have diarrhea. If he did (I guess) this might allow for the weight loss (5 pounds since he was originally dumped at the shelter). Without that as a reason, he was worried that there might be some cancer, specifically in the lungs which "sounded funny". The vet listened with 2 different stethoscopes, so he probably knows what he's talking about. But it could also be that when dogs are super skinny (like Radar) the heart rubs against the lungs and causes the grating sound he was hearing.

So first order of business is to fatten Radar up. Which is a good goal. It seems harder for me to lose weight myself or get my pet to lose weight. But I seem good at gaining weight (seeing all-new numbers on the scale these days -- eek!). The vet gave us a web site to use to figure out what to feed the dog to increase his weight gradually. (The annoying thing about that is that the web site is in kcals and the dog food bags seems to list in grams...I need to figure out some conversion somewhere. Of course even fattening up the dog the right way can't be easy.)

In a month or so, we will go back to the vet and weigh Radar. Then, if he's gained weight we'll see if we can get the vet to listen to his lung again. Then we'll decide if we need just x-rays on the hips or the hips and the lungs. I am trying to decide if knowing what the hip issue is will help us figure out how to treat it.

The vet also said it looked to him like Radar had some minor hearing loss. Radar's ears twitched to the vet's clanging of metal lids behind him, but he was really mostly interested in the treat I was holding. Inconclusive at best. It seems like as time goes on his hearing gets better. I think some of it is that he's learning what the relevant sounds are (the garage door means Iggy is home, the doorbell means someone new is about to come in, etc). And I think a lot of is that his name wasn't Radar...and now that he's learned to respond to that name we're stuck with it. (There was also a Hawkeye and a Trapper at the shelter...)

He probably does have selective hearing too. We all do, right? Choose to hear what we want to hear... ;-)

At any rate, today we decided to delay phase 2 of our master plan. On about an hourly basis I oscillated back and forth: get a puppy now because Radar seems to love other dogs and desperately wants to play on our walks? Or give Radar time to settle in and convince him that we're his family (he is so friendly that he'd go home with anyone!)?The "give Radar some time" side won out. So we missed out on the super-grumpy-but-totally-cute Frank

and the possibility of owning an intriguging Sharpei/Mastiff mix.

I am assuming that there will always be cute puppies to adopt, right?

New Year, New Dog

2012-01-03T11:35:00.001-07:00

We lost our dog last summer. It took a while to want to get a new one, but sometime time fall we decided to get one after we got home from our Christmas/New Year's trip.

We both knew we wanted to adopt from a rescue, the pound, the Dumb Friends League, etc. I think my husband wanted a puppy because you have the greatest chance to mold their personalities and the least chance of getting unusual issues. I have always wanted to adopt an older dog. I worry that they won't get the second chance. If I am truthful I want to adopt all dogs. I have a hard time choosing. In fact that was why in college I ended up with a grey and a black cat -- how do you choose just one?

The dog I had picked out from the web was an 11-yeat-old bulldog with "special needs." We saw her and she was really cute, but some of her special needs led to the conclusion that she would be best in a one-dog household. We haven't entirely ruled out getting a puppy. My second choice was another 11 year old, a beagle. She was cute and lovable to the handler we saw. However on our visit with her she wanted nothing more than to be on the other side of the door. The counselor said she was "independent" but to me it seemed we stressed her out. She would probably get over that eventually... The next dog we saw we took home. An 8-year-old yellow lab. He has a decided limp which I guess could be the precursor to arthritis or hip displasia. The vet there checked it out and said it was currently ok but to see if our vet wanted us to start him on something for joint pain...

We're in our settling in phase. I tried a walk with the dog...he tugs a bit, wants to greet every dog, every person we meet, and would like to hop in any car for a ride. So we don't have to worry about him being friendly. But he might try to go home with anyone with treats or a car! He had his first accident. We've had two or three dozen trips outside as we're trying to learn the signals for that. The only time I've heard him bark so far is on walks -- when he thinks other dogs should come over and play. He slept through the night the first night.

Dad Project (or Why I am Not A Project Manager)

2011-08-07T22:34:00.000-06:00

I am thinking about starting to keep track of my home improvement projects. I would like to see if they are as ridiculous as they feel.

A month or so ago my parents were coming out to visit me. We always do a lot of things that I think my mom and I are totally into. And I feel like my dad just sorta gets dragged along...so I had this brilliant (hopefully you can feel the sarcasm there) idea that I would think up a "Dad Project." Thus the idea was born that my dad would help me refinish the upstairs guest bathroom.

While I'm not a project manager, I work on projects all the time at work and I'm familiar with risk analysis, boundary conditions, scope creep and all that.

And every single home improvement escapade I have been involved with has had issues with planning, scope and how to define when you're done.

So before proposing this fantastic bonding experience idea to my dad, I decided to set the boundaries.

Me: Dad - would you be interested in helping me with a little home project when you guys visit next month?

Dad: What do you have in mind?

Me: The upstairs guest bathroom. You know how I called you 15 times to help me through replacing the sink faucet, fixing the tile in the shower, re-grouting the shower tiles and re-caulking everything around the shower a year ago?

Dad: Yes...

Me: Well, I thought you and I could re-do the floor -- just linoleum like you showed me how to do in my old condo and put in a new vanity. So sorta finish out the renovation. And I thought it would be faster and more fun if you were here to show me how to do some of that -- like remove the old vanity and help me do the linoleum around the toilet since that seems more difficult than what we did last time. And I replaced the toilet seat recently so it's new.

Dad: That sound do-able. How big is the bathroom?

Me: Gosh. Hang on, let me get the tape measure out. But I can almost touch all the wall when I stand in the middle. Except the shower wall.

Dad: Ok. 6x9 probably. Are there issues with anything? Like plumbing leaks? Or cracks anywhere.

Me: Hey, yeah, 6 by almost 9. No, I, er, *we* fixed that moldy tile and the stuff we did last time is holding up fine. Except I really should clean that gritty stuff off the tiles still.

Dad [pointedly ignoring that I didn't finish the grout job]: Then should we paint too and put a frame around the mirror? You know, just to really spruce it up.

Me: No, I don't think so. I want this to be something we can do on Sunday and Monday while you're here and then you guys can go up to your cabin in the mountains.

Dad: Ok, sounds fun. Take an inventory of your tools and let me know what I need to throw in the car on the way our there. But think about the paint. It's relatively cheap and it makes a lot of difference.

I did think about the mirror frame. So much so that I found a lovely example of what I wanted: teal frame around the mirror, brushed nickel hardware and dark woodwork. Since our house has dark walnut finish on all the doors, floorboards and accents it seemed like a natural fit. And a way to save some money.

But that mirror thing ended up costing about $300 more ($80 for the new mirror to be cut down since the home-improvement store won't cut mirrors they didn't sell, $50 for paint and chair-rail type boards to do the framing and drywall screws to hang it, plus $180 for a new mirror and $20 for hanging supplies).

And inevitably the project took an extra day of my parents' vacation. Then it took an extra 3 weeks for me to fiddle with the mirror frame and finally decide it wasn't going to work and 1 more week of dragging Iggy to several stores to find a replacement mirror since the old one turned out to be way too big and I couldn't make the new one work.

So what I intended to be a 2-day, $500 ($300 for the new vanity, $80 for linoleum and some random supplies) was instead probably an $800 project and took 4 days of work, and 45 calendar days.

On the up side it turned out really well. It inspired Iggy to want to do more. So this weekend we bought His-N-Hers projects. Of course, Iggy's project (replace the kitchen light that broke last year when the new roof was installed) is done and my project (paint the dining room wall) is still in progress.

Clearly we know why I'm not a project manager now...

In case you're wondering, here's the before:

And the After:

I'm Allergic to Power Point

2011-06-24T01:04:00.000-06:00

So...just got off the phone with 100 of my co-workers. And I had to present a slide to them. I truly hate public speaking with PowerPoint slides whether it is to 5 or 500 people. I don't know why. If you want me to go to a client and stand up in front of them and talk about our product I can do that all day. And you can throw questions at me in that situation that I don't know or expect and I can think on my feet. But give me some PowerPoint and I start sweating and my voice quavers and I start wondering if it's possible the world might conveniently end before my presentation comes up.

This one was initiated this morning by my boss emailing the team leads saying "I can't make the meeting - which of you wants to volunteer to present this at the global team meeting?"

I thought it would be clever to deflect that one by saying "I volunteer so-and-so." Be careful what you say because on a teeny-tiny blackberry screen you boss only sees "I volunteer..."

Anyways. I got all my words out without choking or sneezing or more than 25 ums or 50 sos. [ "So we put 5 things on the um agenda because they're super-important. So first up is um..." ] Minimal add-on comments were needed by the big boss. So I would say it was a marginal success.

And the world didn't end. That I know of.

I was thinking about how far I've come (if I do say so myself) in my "career." "Career" is quoted because I have no idea what I want to be when I grow up. If you could make finger-quotes in the air while reading this, it would be good. I most often picture myself as a sort of James Bond spy who flies in, assesses the situation, figures it all out, fixes it and then flies on to the next cool spot. I did want to be a spy when grew up. Or a detective. Or maybe a veterinarian.

I've always wanted to travel internationally for business. I actually got my first taste of that earlier this year. Granted it was "only to Canada" and they speak English... But it was a start! I realized when I got back that I did it all wrong too. I did my typical fly-in-the-night-before-at-midnight-so-I-don't-miss-any-time-at-home and then I was only there for a day and a half and flew right back out. Because of the time change I was so wiped out that I didn't even got out for dinner my one evening there -- I just had room service and worked! That's ok behavior if you're being sent to places like Bismarck or some small town in North Carolina or even Cincinnati. But not if you have to take a passport to get to your destination! Clearly I have some learning to do about how to do it right.

It was weird to answer at immigration the question "What is the purpose of your trip?" "Business meeting with a client." "What client?" And I don't think I was very convincing because the guy asked me like 10 more questions.

The sort of funny thing was that I didn't really even think about the fact that this is a teeny step in the direction of being an international business traveler until a month later. But I did think about the fact that there were literally 100 people on the phone today from different places including Europe, Australia and all the time zones in the US.

Anyways, those were my 2 big unexpected events so far in 2011:
- traveling internationally for work
- presenting to 100 people around the globe.

Sounds way more glamorous than it was. I still don't like presenting PowerPoint slides either.

Joining the Water Bunnies

2011-05-08T10:24:00.000-06:00

The gym class I like was canceled last Saturday so I decided to suck it up (and in) and try the Aqua Aerobics class. The only things I knew about the class were (1) you wear a swimsuit and (2) the women I've seen in the locker room getting ready for it wear water shoes too. The only people I'd seen getting ready for this class were at least 70 so I had a sneaking suspicion that I would be a little young for it. I tried to convince Becca to go with me to "old lady aqua aerobics" so I wouldn't be the only novice/youngster/wet-behind-the-ears-neophyte but she had things to do that day (uh-huh, sure you do, I believe you). So in my usual "gak! class starts in 10 minutes and I'm still at home in my PJ's" style I rushed over and changed into my swimsuit and water shoes and ran into the pool in time to see what equipment everyone was grabbing before they got into the water and before I could change my mind.

Here's what I learned:

The only male was the instructor.
Most of the women were older and liked to pick on/flirt with the instructor.
Apparently the women had complained about the music last week so this week it was all old 80s pop and Taylor Swift. (Can you really work out to that stuff?)
I wasn't the youngest but I was the least connected. Even the 30-somethings brought a couple friends (darn you Becca) so it was like one big hen party except held while standing 3 feet of water.
My towering 5-feet-7-and-three-quarters-inches (if you ask Iggy and his friends I'm at least 5'10" but I'm telling you what the doctor told me) made the workout much easier for me. The poor 4'9" woman next to me had to struggle through all of it -- but most especially the "ok, now run 2 laps" segments. At one point she gave up and just did a dog paddle to keep her head above water.
Speaking of running laps, you do this in the water, of course. 30 women can create quite a current if they all choose to run the same direction around the pool! At some point the instructor will call out "ok, switch directions". If you're lucky you get caught in the whirlpool where the water is trying to change directions with all the ladies -- it's a lot of fun when you're tall enough to keep your feet on the ground. Not so fun (again) for the cute little lady next to me.
The instructor tried to have us work our abs. Whatever technique he was talking about was incomprehensible to me. I kept getting my head under water. I think this is a big no-no. Everyone else had perfect hairdos (and dry hair).
Even at the end of the senior ladies' water workout session there is the plug for personal training purchased through the gym (really? an octogenarian wants a personal trainer? maybe he wants to feed his ego with some one-on-one harmless flirting?) with the twist that "we can hold the sessions in the pool with kickboards and waterweights."
I was surprised to find I was a little sore in my legs the next day.

It was a fun new experience, but I can't see me doing this regularly until, oh, another 20-30 years...

Gym Candy

2011-02-20T23:34:00.000-07:00

I know. Sounds gross. Bear with me.

Long before I knew what eye candy or brain candy was I learned about Candy Christians. We were in Germany and it was Christmastime and we were at the chapel on base. I loved that place (for all the wrong reasons, but more on that later). The preacher had said two very meaningful things (to me) that sermon:

Always keep Christmas in your heart.

and

Make sure you get here early next week before all the Candy Christians.

On the former: I thought he meant to always have that spirit of giving and love and hope and happiness and excitement in your heart. I thought that sounded quite lovely. I was in 5th or 6th grade and we'd been in Germany for a while. It was snowy outside. We'd been to the Kris Kringle Markets to find little wooden ornaments for the tree. We had a cozy little apartment in some little village. There were presents under the tree. My dad was going to be in town for a while. My brother and I got to pick out a comic book or Trixie Belden novel at the base book store before going home. To take that and capture it and keep it in your heart always seemed quite nice.

Later I realized that it was the first significant misunderstanding about Christianity that I had. While it was probably a nice double-meaning to the statement, in context it meant to reject the commercialism of Christmas and focus on the True Meaning.

On the latter: I was a little old for it (feeling quite mature for my age), but I wasn't opposed to Halloween or candy. I figured whatever next weekend was (besides also being Christmas Eve and Christmas) it was something exciting I was about to discover. You see, the reason I liked that chapel had very little do do with the building or the religious content of what I learned there. In the military, at that time, you had your choice of religions: Jewish, Catholic or Protestant. All housed in the same building. This fascinated me. I was learning lots about culture and people living all the places that the military dragged us. And this was one more thing. As a "Protestant" we had 4 ministers: an Episcopalian, a Methodist, a Baptist, and a Lutheran. Each one had his own costume that he wore on Sunday (one was rather boring and just wore a suit). Each sermon had a slightly different order and different songs you sang for processionals/recessionals and different ways of doing communion. I truly have no idea which was which, but I loved that it was a little random what you experienced each Sunday. The rotation wasn't a strict "every 4 weeks you're up" -- I have no idea what it depended on, but I like to think it had more to do with the needs of the community being served than something like rock-paper-scissors. I mean, if you were a minister, wouldn't you rather give the Christmas sermon than the sermon in December 18th? So I figured Candy Christians were some sort of new flavor of costumes, rituals and songs. Cool.

In the car on the way home I overheard my parents talking about what time to leave next week based on getting there and getting a seat before the Christmas and Easter Christians.

Oh.

C and E Christians.

Not Candy Christians.

Sigh. I have always had terrible hearing.

But actually, I hold to my original interpretation. Now that I know what brain candy (necessary after a tough day's work; this justifies sitcoms) and eye candy (drool) and (cringe) gym candy is.

Which brings me to January 2011. We bought a membership to the local 24-hour Fitness in November (shoot me now - I hate gyms and desperately prefer to be outside or playing a game - but these damn love handles are so-o-o-o-o-o persistent!!!). The deal was that we had to go at least once a week each (so that when summer comes I can ride my bike ad nasuem and only go to the gym on days were I can't break away from work during daylight).

And in the first couple weeks of 2011 I was dismayed! The gym was packed! A line to check in. No lanes in the pool. No ellipse machines available! Really? They must have 3 dozen! Running into your neighbor during classes...

I hope that this type of gym candy - the people that start their 2011 resolutions with a weight-reduction, fitness-achievement, gym goal - thin out by March. (Who makes new years resolutions? Does anyone keep those for more than a month? Why start in January? Why not start in November? ;-) My original guess was that by Valentine's day they'd be gone. And it did thin out a bit, but the "rush hour" at the gym from 6-7 still leaves me without a monotonous machine to battle with or the last spot under a speaker in a dreaded aerobics class.

The gym candy that I hope continues includes:

Inappropriately Dressed Petite Asian Woman: The first time I saw her she was wearing a fuschia cable-knit sweater, navy dress pants and maroon loafers. I saw her today and she was wearing a tech-wicking-sports shirt over a one-piece floral swimsuit and some capri Nike pants. A huge upgrade (I am an exercise-wear slut -- love that stuff!). But she was still wearing the loafers. She's so cute!
Uber Skinny Jump Rope Woman: The first time I saw her I swear my jaw hit the ground. She is thinner than Jaime Lee Curtis and has a similar set to her jaw. She seriously jumped rope in the gym for 10 or more minutes. I might've been able to do that in 5th grade, but today jumping rope for longer than 2 minutes kicks my bootie. I was so impressed!
Water Bunnies: The elderly women who use the pool to side-step up and down once between each 5-minute hot-tub session. Sounds divine. I'll be there someday too. And I've learned not to use the close lane in the pool because it causes them distress when they have to avoid me and jump the lane ropes.
Grunting man: The first day I saw him I was on an ellipse machine and was sadly in front of the weight lifting machine where you pull down with your arms from about eye level to your waist. He started with a 45-lb weight on each side -- 90 pounds! He did 15 reps quite easily. I was impressed. Then he added a 45-lb weight to each side -- 180 lbs. Alright. Wow. No problem for Mr. V (his shoulders were at least twice as wide as his waist which was similarly twice as wide as his feet). Then he added another pair of the 45-lbs disks. And another. As the weight added up the grunting started. And got louder with each set. At the 360-level it started to make me uncomfortable because I was sure that even the people even beyond me (people on machines in the next two rows!) could hear. At the 450-level he was grimacing through his teeth and snarling the numbers. It was disturbing. At 560-lbs I think I blushed on his behalf. He was back today. It wasn't any less disturbing but was definitely less amusing.

I guess maybe I could do without Grunting Man. But I love the rest of the gym candy. I wonder how they see me. Not that we're supposed to notice. I hate being on display at the gym. Sigh.

A New Year...and no new me

2011-01-02T11:09:00.000-07:00

It's that time of year again. New Years' Resolutions. High Expectations. Great Hopes. Oh All The Wonderful Things That Could Be.

Meh.

I usually rebel and make my own "Chinese New Year Resolutions." It lets me delay setting goals until February when I can look at everyone else's goals and take the best/easiest parts for my own reuse/spin.

Anywho.

Today is the expectation-filled, pristine, malleable, day of "Anything's possible!" It's New Years Day.

And I did absolutely zero -- it was like a passive protest. We were up until 2 or 3 am playing board games. We slept in until 10 or 11am. At 3pm I decided it would probably be best if I finished those 2 mostly-empty bottles of wine left over from the celebrations last night. I read my book club book for next week (proactive book club reading! Something I haven't done in months -- I'm still finishing September's book) a bit and played meaningless computer games. Then around 7:30pm I thought maybe I should work on perfecting my Cosmo recipe (it's getting getting pretty good, if I do say so myself, but since I just had one I may not be the best judge).

Then while trying to ignore Iggy's college football game on TV and reading more of my book-club-book I found the profession I wish I'd ended up in. It's perfect. Or at least it's a perfect fantasy that I could be there. And, appallingly enough, I briefly considered buying this book, published in 1973 that costs $500. Uh, what?!?! Wouldn't it be hopelessly out of date? Aren't there any new advances we should know about? I think I need to do more Googling.

I have always loved fast airplanes and mystery stories. What better marriage of the two things than Aerospace Pathology? Plus that vocational title just oozes future, cutting edge, all that is scientific and [bonus!!!] mad scientist lab coats. How did I not even know about this field? Especially given that a *textbook* on the subject was written during my toddler years. There was ample time for me to have heard about it before I went to college.

My general lack of motivation regarding goals is probably that things are pretty good. Iggy and I are doing well, the dog is [mostly] behaving, I have a couple groups of women I like to hang out with (book club, hockey), I exercise fairly regularly (because it keeps me from screaming in frustration when working with unmotivated clients), etc. I would love to lose those extra pounds I somehow found in the last 2 years and eat healthier and all that, but not enough to do anything about it. My job pays the bills, lets me save toward retirement, play hockey and basically do what I want. Explaining my job isn't sexy and no one I tell about it suddenly gets a wistful look on their face and says "I wish I could do that!" or "Gee, that sounds so interesting!" When I get to the point where I am dreading work so much that I won't get out of bed, I guess it will be time to do something about it.

At any rate, don't expect anything spectacularly different from me this month. I'm still that same old me and not pretending that I can (or even care to) be a new, improved me. ;-)

Happy New Year, y'all.

Travel Envy

2010-10-30T14:09:00.001-06:00

One of the things I do when I've sick of work but have a lot to do is browse travel sites while waiting on the server to respond. A few weeks ago I got an email with a link to a blog about what influences your travel decisions. It asked a panel of travel bloggers if nationality, gender, age or religion was the highest consideration when making a choice about your next trip.

Interesting. What influences my travel decisions? At least nationality (I don't go where there's violence against Americans or the US Gvt says I can't go) and gender. I do like to travel by myself, but I like to go places where I can get by speaking English and where women are basically equals in society when traveling solo. And I especially like to go where I can visit with someone I know some of the time. Luckily age hasn't been a limitation for me yet. But I do feel an urgency to visit as much of the world as possible as soon as possible. I really regret not traveling around when I was "young and carefree" and willing to stay in questionable hotels/hostels. Right now I really like having airline tickets to mark the beginning and end of an adventure and at least a place to stay the first night. During my pondering about religion and my trips, I had a funny a-ha moment where I realized I have probably crossed that line from being religious to not -- and that is still uncomfortable to say. A different blog perhaps. But even back when I still fooled myself into thinking I was religious, I would be fascinated to see other religions and their influence on culture...but probably not enough to make it the deciding factor for a trip.

So after I'd thought about what influences my travel, I read the rest of the blog. Honestly, that took me a few days -- probably 2 weeks, if I were to tell the truth. And more than half of it was last night sitting on the couch with Iggy's new iPad waiting for him to finish whatever he was doing so we could watch a movie.

Most of the travelers in the blog are truly independent and sound like they would never consider stooping to a pre-arranged tour. I am 90% sure that if I traveled enough then I would be the same way. But several years ago I took a tour bus trip of ...er... the UK or Great Britain? Great Britain (we didn't see any of Ireland -- a regretful omission). Granted, other than one grandson, myself and my companion were the only ones under 50 on the bus. So while I had a great time, I'd like to save those trips for when I am a senior citizen. Much like the panelist Michael Schneider. He and his wife are in their 60s and still doing "strenuous" travel (he mentioned kayaking and hiking recently) -- and will consider beaches and cruises later! I hope to be writing that blog (or whatever new-fangled thing replaces blogs) in a couple decades!

The panelists would probably turn up their noses at my all-inclusive resort vacation this year too. (Or at least delay it until they were 70.) But in my life even that has its place now. That Mexico trip was probably one of my favorites (even without the wedding, but having everyone cater to or defer to me for that probably fed my ego more than I care to admit). It was so cool to have all the families and friends meet each other in a neutral site. It was nice to take the "turf" and some of the obligation and the "timeframe" out of the picture. No one was really there long enough to figure out those areas where I know they'd disagree (respectfully, of course) and everyone was free to do different activities but to hang out when they wanted to. I like to think everyone got something for themselves out of the trip -- even if I did force them to spend their hard-earned vacation days and $ on a place and time of my choosing. Iggy and I have a "stay 5 days and get 3 days free coupon" for the anniversary of our trip. So we're likely to do a repeat all-inclusive stay next year.

One of the most interesting comments was at the end and was on gender (which most panelists seemed to admit was at least an unconscious or unwilling consideration). It is (sadly) still easier to be respected as a man in basically any culture. Regarding that, one panelist (Wade Shepard) said, "I am surely missing something." Think about that for a minute. By itself the quote could be saying that he's missing out on the experience of living in the world as a woman. But, I admit, that quote is a little out of context. It comes after a paragraph on how he's observed his wife being treated when he's not with her -- and how it would be disprectful to *the man* to treat the woman like that if she were with a man. (!!! Do NOT get me started!) The whole quote is "This stuff [cat-calls, ass-grabs, propositions, etc.] does not happen when I am around, and it is my impression that women may travel in a very different world than I. I am surely missing something."

I love the sentence on it's own for the double meaning. But I also like what he's saying...

One panelist (Dave) says he alternates extremes on his trips. This is a fascinating idea. Like one time I could go on a humanitarian trip to an African country to help build a schoolhouse then the next time I could go to a Scandinavian country for a week of indulgence and spa treatments. Poverty then luxury. Giving back then selfishly taking. Both sound fun to me. I probably do this to a lesser degree on a subconscious level since I really enjoy variety, new experiences and learning.

Another panelist had an interesting comment on the concept of novelty. Nellie Huang is from Singapore and her partner is from Spain. So traveling to the Mediterranean or north Africa might feel exotic for her, but would be ho-hum for her traveling companion. Likewise Indonesia or Asia might not feel as exotic to her as it would for someone else. Along with this as a consideration for me comes comfort zone. Being a military brat made me comfortable in situations where I couldn't understand a word being said. Not that I like it. But it doesn't freak me out. It didn't occur to me until traveling with someone outside of my family that this might bother other people. I remember once in Switzerland after 4 or 5 days of making the effort to use my high-school French on signs and when with people when they'd stop me in the street to ask directions (a huge compliment that they didn't just assume I was a foreigner) just wanting someone to talk American (not English) and to have a diet Coke (not a Coca Cola light) and have a McDonald's hamburger (something I rarely crave when in the States). So I get the comfort zone thing. But it doesn't happen to me on day one. And the next morning after my Swiss-induced homesickness, I was ready for whatever came my way even if it involved butchering the French language some more and some odd food (with the exception of "Chinese Fondue").

The most interesting panelist to me was Angelina Hart. She has this concept of raising "global children" and takes her daughters on what I would consider atypical trips. Would most moms consider taking their daughters to Iran? Especially when they were under 10 years old? Wow. Seriously. I wanted to be 10 and be her daughter. And then I wondered who the daughters hang out with. I remember coming back to the States from Greece (not nearly as unusual) and not having much in common with the kids here. Of course, her daughters live in the US and just visit other countries so maybe those are apples and oranges, so to speak. But an interesting goal -- to raise global children.

In the end I am cognizant of my jealousy of these people and their lives. I can't wait for my next trip, but at the moment I have too much to consciously plan it (obviously my priorities are out of whack). But I indulge myself with a minute at a time here and there on my non-work computer while chained to my desk...and dream about river cruises through Eastern European countries or a Nile cruise and some time pretending to be Agatha Christie on a dig in Egypt. Or visiting Casablanca. Or Antarctica. Or...

Jealous of the Commute (Really?!?)

2010-10-29T23:16:00.000-06:00

Traditionally some of my girlfriends (the chix) go to the Zoo Lights in December. I've been the least consistent member, I think, even though my best friend organizes it. Not really sure what that's about, but maybe something to think about later.

At any rate, she sent the email today asking what day we'd all like to go. And in the zoo announcement about the lights was a link to a blog on riding your bike to work for a year. That's quite a commitment. I used to live about 4 miles from my work for about a year. I can probably count the number of times I rode my bike to work on both hands without reusing any of the fingers. Which is odd because I really love to ride my bike -- actually, living at that apartment was when I rediscovered riding my bike and bought a "serious" bike with my tax return.

I think it's really cool that the zoo is challenging its employees to have a lower carbon footprint right here, right now! It's a way many of us could contribute to a better planet by acting locally.

The blog is OK -- a little sparse (only monthly updates). But I think it might be hard to write a blog that your work links to and share too much "genuinely" -- I would always have that filter in place.

I am impressed by her ability to get to volleyball in various cities after work -- and by the amount of difference it's making (1 tank of gas in 3 weeks, a family vacation where they used only public transportation, etc.).

But I am also confused by using people who drive to work to help you out. Sure carpools are better, but if you don't use them consistently then some days the driver rides alone...and it sounds like if you have a kid then someone has to drive to work to have the flexibility to deal with unforeseen issues. Which vaguely reminds me of my work friend in the early 90s who announced that "since I'm pregnant I need a cell phone." I mean babies have been born for ... probably millennia ... without the aid of cell phones. And kids have had to wait for parents in the past. Not that I would be any different in either situation. At any rate.

Maybe I'm just jealous because I don't get to ride my bike to work (I work at home). I wish I had a commute so I could squeeze in a little exercise twice a day in already "wasted" time. Yeah, it's probably that...

Can't wait to hear how she does in the winter -- or if that means she mostly takes the bus. (BTW - her command of the bus system is impressive. When I took the bus I basically only knew my one route and didn't ever try to get too fancy if a bus was crowded.)

Change the World for $1 a Day

2010-09-08T17:47:00.000-06:00

Speaking of projects where you use $1/day like the previously-mentioned dress project, I saw a site today sponsored by GoodReads that had the concept of donating $1/day for 1000 days. The specific project was to send books to Africa:

At Books For Africa, we believe that education is the great equalizer in the world, and books are at the foundation of a strong educational system.

$1/day seems like so little. And then there's the rest of the math:

Monthly—$30 a month (Pay Period = Monthly, Donation Amount = $30)
Quarterly—$91 a quarter (Pay Period = Quarterly, Donation Amount = $91)
Semi-Annually—$182 twice a year (Pay Period = Semi-Yearly, Donation Amount = $182)
Annually—$365 a year (Pay Period = Yearly, Donation Amount = $365)
One-Time—$1,000 (Pay Period = One-Time, Donation Amount = $1,000)

Even the $365 seems like "not much" when I think of it as all I'd have if I put a $1 in a bucket every day at the end of a year (excepting Leap Year, of course). The funny thing is that it starts to feel a little different if you ask me if I want to write you a check today for $365...

In a sorta related item, you could change your world for some "spare change"... I have never really understood the appeal of Bank of America's Keep the Change program: Bank of America will round up every Visa debit card purchase to the next dollar and deposit the difference in your account. What freaks me out about that is that I hate being imprecise. I am wondering if all the rounding up with play havoc with my ability to guess how much I have in my account at any given time. I know you may think that the need to be precise and guessing at my account balance are opposites, but they're not. I really do know, maybe not down to the penny, but in general I know if I can make a purchase or not. If you were taking out a few extra pennies every time, I could end up in really big trouble. I've seen Office Space. I know what pennies do. The linked article on the Keep The Change program said that it's unlikely to help you unless you can get to the point of saving $5000. And if you can save that much, you should probably be putting your money into something with higher yields.

But still, we're taking a small amount and ending up with something big after a while. So, can I commit to it? Is it worth it? Is it enough?

Exploring the Kama Sutra in 69 days!

2010-09-06T18:26:00.000-06:00

Just kidding. Although that was a suggestion when I asked for project ideas. Bet you can't guess who suggested that!

I got some other interesting ideas for one-off posts and a link to a blog where a woman re-created a dress a day on a budget that was fascinating. Good idea, but I have no time for projects which require time. (sigh)

I got a couple of ideas for longer-term projects like

volunteering and blogging about those experiences (I used to love taking my dog to a Boulder, CO halfway house so that she could participate in pet therapy. Alas, my current pooch, while super-sweet and quite a character, doesn't have the temperament for that. I could consider other volunteer opportunities -- like I've always wanted to help with Habitat for Humanity.)
reuniting with lost friends or those relatives that live down the street that you never call and only see if another relative visits from out of state and sharing that experience (I should totally do this and feel guilty for avoiding it -- I almost didn't mention it here!)

I found a writing class I wanted to take, but got scared of the commitment. My job takes all hours of the day some days and is so unpredictable that I just couldn't justify spending any money on anything. (I actually did decide to learn Spanish a couple of years ago, but only made 2 of the 5 classes due to work.)

The search continues...in the meantime I will write up mid-year reviews for my team (a new job task I've never had to do previously and which is not proving to be all that fun). Wheeeeee~~!

A Few of My Favorite Things

2010-08-27T16:12:00.000-06:00

Travel, Lattes, Independence

This was taken on my trip last year to visit Calle in New Zealand. After a 3-day sailing adventure that we went on together, I got to spend a lot of time exploring by myself during the day when she was at work. It was a nice, sorta independent time, but also with the comfort of knowing I would be going to hang out with someone I really enjoyed in the evening. The other thing I really like about this photo (besides the very artful pattern the barista made for me) is that I love lattes. They're like comfort food in the mornings. I love having a latte and watching people walk by the window. Or while reading a book. It makes me slow down and appreciate the peace of the moment.

Bling, Rain, Dogs, Flowers, Family

I adore shiny things. So these raindrops were like special sparkly treasures. It doesn't rain that much in Colorado, so I always enjoy it when it does. I was dog-sitting at the time for two huge, lovable, fluffy Old English Sheepdogs named Cromwell and Hastings. (Awesome names -- I feel like I should cultivate a British accent just to hang out with them.) And there's always the sentimental side when I see or take flower photographs. When we moved to Colorado my grandma on my Dad's side used to come and visit. She grew prize-winning orchids in her basement and had a fascination for alpine tundra flowers. I think she went on every guided nature walk that Rocky Mountain National Park ever offered. And I think she cataloged every possible variety of flower there. When we moved her out of her house she literally had a dozen+ boxes of flower photos (not shoeboxes, think bigger, like a box that would hold a shelf of books). So I've seen a couple flower photos in my lifetime...and I guess I didn't fall far from the tree if I'm also taking them.

Bike Rides, Outside, Autumn

The picture above was taken on a bike ride around Dillon Lake with my buddy, Becca. We happened to be there on the perfect day to see all the Aspen colors -- and it was sunny too! Can't get any luckier than that. I can't describe how much I like riding my bike. It's the best tax return investment I've ever made. Riding is when my brain processes through most of those sticky thoughts or bottled-up things that I don't easily let go. Being outside is a part of that. I like the feeling of huge open space and nothing over my head to hold it all in. It lets those sticky, bottled-up bits just float right out. Plus I think I might be part plant or something because I feel better when in the sunshine. I like exercising, too, because it lets me be a little less careful about what I eat (or it used to - sigh) and I'm always chasing that feeling of coordination and fitting into my space that comes with it. I prefer to ride by myself most of the time because I'm terrible at pacing and hate holding people back. Plus from the articles I read on riding it seems like there's a pack order and a social/physical obligation to contribute to the pace by taking the lead sometimes. That would totally defeat the purpose of me letting my brain unwind.

Split-Aparts

I know this is a cheesy picture, but I look like I was the page of some magazine! The sepia tones, the symbolic "new view" of opening the curtains, the way the beautician did my hair, the fact that I don't look too chubby, etc. All nice work from the photographer. But this really symbolizes being a part of a team. I like working together and accomplishing something bigger than you could by yourself. Those little things you learn from other people -- little on the fly tidbits or the new ways to see something -- fascinate me. And marriage is the ultimate team, right? The two of you against the world? Before I get to carried away, I better move off that topic, but you get the basic point, right? Just one more thing -- apparently the notion of split-aparts is something I got from a movie I don't remember ever seeing. I'm terrible at remembering movies.

Ice Hockey, The Path Less Traveled, Art

This is a statue of a jazz band in the wintertime in Reykjavik, Iceland. Nobody goes to Iceland in the winter on purpose, right? Most tourists go in the summers for all the outdoor activities. But for this atypical tourist excursion, I went with my women's ice hockey team. I love ice hockey -- it can be quick, physical, strategic, and still a finesse game all at once. The women's teams I have played on seem to be very interested in setting up plays and learning to work together (men's teams seem to be more about the physical and individual glory). Sadly, for the Iceland tournament, my team didn't do any scoring on the ice (hee), but we do have some great stories to tell!

And that's how I arrived at the new image at the top of this blog page - it's almost all of my favorite things all smushed together into one collage.

Time For a Change

2010-08-16T15:38:00.000-06:00

We saw Julie and Julia recently. I was jealous (or inspired). Now that I'm done with the Bridezilla project, it sounds fun to have a new project and it even sounds fun to have a deadline.

But what to do?

I sorta half-heartedly started this type of thing with the 5280 magazine's top restaurant review. I blogged about the meals we had out. This was fun (and I might continue) but it's been over done, I suppose. And I currently have no set schedule or goal.

I should learn to cook. It looks fun, and I sure do like to eat. Even thought that's been done, I could pick a different cookbook that sounds more fun to me. Like the Moosewood Cafe (their book for cooking at home) or the Coyote Cafe cookbook. I could get a cooking series show on DVD (I think I saw the Giada De Laurentiis and the Rachel Ray series at Target) and cook the things they make. But Iggy is already a great cook and he seems to like cook the evening meal. And, honestly, I don't see me sticking with this one for very long.

I've wanted to learn to garden too. But we're getting close to winter, and I'm sure I'd lose momentum. Plus the wait to see anything is somewhat incompatible with my need for instant gratification.

I like doing home improvement projects, and I have quite a few of those on my list that I'd like to do. But probably half of those are the "hire a contractor" type as opposed to the do-it-yourself type.

I've seen some cool photo blogs where they take a picture a day. That might be fun. But what sort of goal to set?

I love riding my bike, but I'm such an amateur that I'm fairly certain I have nothing to say on the subject. Besides, that's one of those things that's more fun to DO than to TALK ABOUT.
I've always loved reading -- and I'm in 2 book clubs. The problem with that is that right now I read so sporadically I rarely finish the books in time for book club. And my book clubs tend to pick best seller types, so those tend to be over-reviewed. I'm not sure I'd have much original to add.

I thought about trying my hand at creative writing today...and after all, this is a writing medium. I saw some interesting ideas all over the place (for example: 100 ideas, Writing Forward). But, again, what goals/timeline?

Thoughts? Advice?

Maybe I don't need a project...I'm behind at work anyways (but that's a constant state).

MILs

2010-07-29T22:34:00.000-06:00

View from the Balcony

We woke up to the sound of the waves gently rolling on the shore. The light is very muted here since it’s “rainy season”. For some reason, laying in bed listening and letting my unfocused eyes wander around the shell-shaped swoops of the textured ceiling I thought it would be cold outside. The AC isn’t on very high and the temperature is pleasantly in between cool and comfy-warm.

We’re here to get married. Which is exciting! And I am so glad to be here for a host of reasons that are unrelated to the wedding that’s sorta hard to sort them all out:

I get to see Calle. (This is my friend from New Zealand and it will be twice in her 3-ish years there that I’ll see her. When she moved down under I had resigned myself to the occasion email.)
I successfully got my dress here. (It was a royal P.I.T.A. carrying it through the airports and the planes didn’t have a closet for it as promised. I have no idea what shape it’s in after being smooshed in the overhead bin on top of everyone’s roll-aboard carry-ons…we’ll find that out later today.)
I am on VACATION! (I stayed up all night before the trip trying to get caught up. I really should just work 10 hours every day – including weekends. It would be a lot easier in the end. I got my hours in at the layover at Phoenix and while there are 2 things I promised to get done before I left that I didn’t…well, someone else will figure them out. And hopefully have forgotten that I dumped that on them when I get back to work in a couple weeks.)
Iggy, while a nervous traveler, seems to be a great companion (not only for trips but in general).
One set of in-laws is here and that is going well…which brings me to the something I’ve been thinking about for a couple days.

A couple of days ago a friend of mine posted on her Facebook wall “my MIL makes my life difficult”. And this weekend I’m about to gain two MILs. So how should I approach this?

I had a MIL once. She was great – fun, adventurous, brave, successful, smart, savvy. But she made my life difficult too. Her son, my ex, always chose her over anyone else. Granted I was easy-going at first. So every time he wanted to spend Christmas at my in-laws’ house – and there was always a good reason why we needed to, some saddening life event, some challenge she was facing, etc. I said “Ok, but next year maybe we can go visit my folks or have people come to our house.” It never worked out that way. And he was always wanting to go to their house in the mountains and spend the weekend. Every vacation we went on while we were married, they went too. She was cool, but I was second fiddle.

So I got to thinking about that. My ex-MIL was someone I really liked and actually liked hanging out with. Just not for every free moment. And my ex didn’t really see what I was complaining about – I mean his mom was cool, so what was my deal? So does anyone think their own mom would be a difficult mother-in-law?

Then I realized that this isn’t the point. For my own mom, we have differences, sure. But I have a lifetime of getting to know her and getting used to the nuances of what makes her happy or sad. So anyone coming into the picture now is a couple of decades behind me in figuring this situation out – they’ve got some adjusting to do. I think it’s like a foreign culture, almost, to try and learn how someone else’s family works. Do they brush their teeth before or after breakfast? Is it acceptable to have a nightcap before bed? Do they eat meat? Do they like to debate at the dinner table? Do they pray before dinner?

Anyways – here’s to adaptability and new adventures! I hope this weekend of all our families and friends meeting goes well. I’d hold my breath, but I’d probably pass out. And the scenery’s too pretty to miss…

See the bee?

Quality Time at the Ballgame

2010-07-08T14:20:00.000-06:00

So, before you go and think that I never actually watch the game when I'm at the Rockies, here's a picture of the game -- you can see the baseball and everything:

Now on to the non-baseball part of the night.

It was an interesting night before we even got to the game. Iggy, Becca and I had sorta planned to eat before going into the game, but Becca didn't get here as soon as I'd estimated based on her IM saying "leaving soon". And when she got here, I looked at the time and said "I think we'll have to eat in Coors Field" -- more so we were all on the same page about the initial destination than anything. I'd worked on my stuff right up until the last minute so it wasn't like I was sitting at the door going "WHERE *IS* SHE?!". But I made her feel bad that she'd screwed up the plans. (sigh) At least she shrugged it off easily.

Then we seemed have front row for everyone making out. I think July 6th must be National Make-Out Day, but somehow the holiday was left off my calendar. I'm not big on PDA for myself, and so I'm not being hypocritical when I prefer that they wait until they get home for tongue action. At least on the train. And in the ball field. The couple right in front of us was pretty impressive. They arrived in the 2nd inning. Each had a beer in each hand. Then they left at the top of the 4th and came back later with round 2 of 2 beers each. They left in the 6th. I hope neither of them was driving. During the time they sat in front of us their vocalizing went from cheering for the players/friendly banter to a fight to making up (tongue action) to the decision to leave while they were both still in the mood. I suppose they could've come back (we left not too long after them)...

So of course I'm sitting there thinking about communication (my slip with Becca) and couples (well they WERE right in front of us). Getting married soon has me worried about communicating and keeping that up -- it's a lot of work. It's worth it, but it's never really easy. And just when you think things are going along fine is really when they're all about to blow up. Or maybe I'm really just a closet pessimist. That's about when I looked to my left and saw this woman:

I basically get this: it's a nice night out and she gets to spend time with her honey. And she gets to do something she likes. I just wonder what the conversation went like where you arrive at it being OK to spend money to sit at a game and read a book. OR maybe she lost a bet. At least she was in the nose-bleed section, right?

Fashion Cents (Tales of Bridezilla, part 2)

2010-06-08T23:18:00.003-06:00

We were sitting at the Rockies game tonight and I got to thinking about fashion. No, silly, I was still following the game, but it's sorta hard to see the game when you're sitting on the aisle and people keep walking up and down *supposedly* in between at-bats.

Just FYI, I would spend the rest of my life in my favorite jeans (if I could just lose this darn 15lbs I gained in the last 2 years), a tank-top bra, sweatshirt and my trusty Ecco Receptors if I had the choice. I dress up to go to the office under great duress because I find all business clothes stuffy, uncomfortable and pretentious. Or slutty. There seems to be no middle ground.

So I color me incredibly surprised when I am totally excited about a wedding dress. I don't quite know what to make of it. But even the whole fairy-tale thing seems to come into focus for me with Iggy. I have never been so girly in my whole life really. When I went through the whole wedding thing before it was basically because my best friend was a fabulous party planner and I figured it was just me that couldn't grasp why you'd have a big day of pretending to be fabulous and wearing a $2000-single-use-dress.

Anywho...the Rockies game. I saw a lot of flipflops and sneakers pass by. But I also saw a surprising number of high heels. Who wears high heels to a baseball game? On a Tuesday night? These women were uber cute - nice designer handbags (also a new weakness of mine - wtf???), cute mini skirts, trendy flowy "jackets" over a camisole with some glittery beaded necklace. I love high heels even if I don't wear them much (I seem to already be sorta tall) and I find it fun to wear them with jeans. I have been known to wear them to bars too -- but the point is to look sexy there. I wouldn't wear them to a sporting event because there are lots of sticky children and people spilling mustard and beer on you there. And I just really don't want that all over my toes...or my fancy shoes I guess. I just rinse my sneakers off if they get dirty, but I'm not so sure my cute shoes would hold up to that.

Earlier today while I was in a meeting, er, while I was on a break, I surfed for a picture of a wedding dress I saw in some bridal magazine (oh gag me -- a bridal magazine?!? what is happening to me?). The picture was 1.5 inches by 1 inch so you really couldn't see it. But the picture I found on the web was...well, I am sure that is a $2000 (or more) dress. And after all the shoes and put-together women passing by, I am sorta thinking that even though that dress would probably make me into a Greek Goddess (probably Athena and not Aphrodite -- don't get too carried away here, I'm not quite *all* that), I think I have the wrong hair.

Huh?

I recently got about 14 inches of hair chopped off for a hairstyle that looks like this:

Granted, Katie Holmes is much cuter than me and could certainly pull off Aphrodite in the expensive gown.

But at the moment I picture my hair matching something more like this dress:

Which is, of course, uber cute and uber fashionable and uber un-pull-off-able for someone that really, really, really doesn't like to be the center of attention.

This is more of the hair that I would need for the dress I saw:

But Salma Hayek could pull off any dress.

I dunno. I have zero fashion sense. I just know that cents-wise I would have a hard time paying a lot of money for a one-time-wear-dress. So I am not sure I am going to go try on that dress...or if I do, I will pretend to you later that it only cost $200...

Be Careful What You Read (or The Search for the Best Burger)

2010-05-17T18:56:00.001-06:00

My brother went to New England Culinary Institute and has had an interesting string of jobs:

fine dining in Chicago where he got to shop for fresh ingredients and determine what the nightly special would be
worked at a Alzheimer's center where he managed his budget so well that he hired another person, bought new stuff for the kitchen AND in a place where the residents were chronically underweight he was praised for making food so good that they actually ate and gained weight (it's a funny world where you hear "congrats - your residents are getting fatter!!!")
wine store manager - my personal favorite since this was in town and I frequently got great tips on wine selections, samples, etc. I should write about the time I asked the wine store clerk to go to Rome with me...but that's for another day.

At any rate, my brother, Henry, has always been more interested in reading nonfiction while I almost always prefer fiction. It's one of the many ways we're different. When he moved Colorado and I was trying to reconnect with him after not really seeing him in years, I asked what his favorite book was at the moment. As kids we used to read a lot -- it was an easy way to entertain ourselves with all the road trips and on those days where you just weren't up to trying to communicate with the neighbor kids that didn't speak the same language as you. And I've always felt that what a person reads tells me a lot about them. Sorta like a horoscope or palm reading for the bibliophile (and just as accurate -- haha).

He gave me a copy of The Best Food Writing for the previous year by Holly Hughes. I kinda perused the table of contents, saw that it was a collection of articles from various sources, and asked him if he had a recommendation of where to start. (I rarely read books like that in any sort of conventional order.) In his typical enigmatic way, he shrugged and said "I thought this was one of the better years, so any place is good."

I'm a fan of hamburgers and fries, so the first article I read was on some author's search for the best burger ever. This was a terrible idea. It got me thinking about what I liked and sorta changed my outlook. No longer was I interested in fast-food burgers -- maybe that's not so bad, but wait. I kept thinking about the burgers I really liked: Chili's Ground Peppercorn Burger, Red Robin's Banzai Burger, etc. The article's author talked about several "high-end restaurant" burgers and what goes into a burger and quality of meat and other ingredients. I was craving burgers. I went to Red Robin. That didn't help. The next day I went to Chili's. That didn't help.

The next day I caught up with my brother and told him about the article and that it had me on this odd, insatiable quest for a supreme burger. He smirked. Clearly I was highly suggestible and an amateur at what was a occupational hazard for him (as a chef he must read tons of articles on food and preparation). How is he not like 300lbs? He's tall (6-foot, plus or minus), thin, with the teeniest hit of a belly. I found out later that after cooking all day, he's sick of it. His pantry is stocked with cereal and his frig holds a couple sodas and some milk. His wife won him over by making him a dinner of macaroni and cheese (presumably from a box) -- she's quite proud of this and I love her for it.

"Maybe just read the next article -- and you'll be onto another quest," quipped Henry. Brilliant. Frustrating. I had the urge to stand on his feet and pull his hair again like I did when we were kids. Except he's a lot taller than me now and that probably wasn't the way to get to know him again.

It didn't work, by the way. I'm still looking for great burgers. Which is why when I saw (via facebook) a list of the restaurants that are in some local Denver burger contest later this year, those restaurants moved to the top of my dining out adventures list.

The first one we tried was Argyll. It's a "gastropub". ...? I had to look that up -- basically it seems to me that it's pub food "kicked up a notch" as Emeril would say. It seemed like a Scottish pub in my completely inexpert opinion -- on the lower level of a small shopping block, dark, a little noisy, bottles of wine on the wall (I'm always tempted to order one just to see the guy take it off the wall), our waiter was wearing a plaid newsboy hat, there was a framed kilt next to our table...

Here's what I was after -- and why Argyll made it to the top of my list in my current burger quest.

The Argyll Burger Ground Lamb and Beef Patty on a Potato Bun w/ Harssa Aioli & Hand Cut Fries. Optional toppers: avocado, fried egg, bacon, Cheeses: English Cheddar, Stilton Bleu, Gruyere, Haystack Goat

When I ordered their signature burger, I said to the waiter "I'm having trouble deciding if I should get cheese on it -- what do you recommend? Cheddar?" The waiter said, "Whoa! Let me stop you right there. Since you can get a fried egg, bacon and goat cheese on it, most people do that -- it's like having 5 animals at once!"

Holy cow.

I didn't do it; I'm not that brave. It was a great burger though. But I can't say it's the best -- I have 9 more restaurants to try first -- but the bar is set pretty high now!

------
Postscript -- to complete the dinner review, here's the rest of what we tried:

Olives - Olives Marinated w/ Pepper Flakes, Anise and Orange Zest served with Feta and Garlic Confit
Fried Oysters 3 Fried Oysters w/ Horseradish, Ginger, Pickled Apples, Fennel & Watercress
Shephard’s Pie Layers of Stewed Lamb & Beef w/ Vegetables, Topped w/ Mashed Potatoes & Herbed Horseradish Croutons
Lemon Tart topped with blackberries and fried basil

The Olives were interesting -- temperature warm and a teeny bit spicy from the pepper flakes. I like the Fried Oysters -- except that the fennel stayed with me throughout the entire meal (and even later!). Iggy loved the Shephard's Pie (that's the spelling copied and pasted from their web site...not mine...maybe it's the Scottish spelling or maybe my spell checker is on the fritz) and he is going to try making it at home (yay!). The only down side was being so full -- even an hour later when we got home I still felt really full.

This was the only non-Scottish or non-food-themed thing I saw while there. Is there a link between Scotland and Japan that I missed?

Jackson thinks I'm a Drama Queen

2010-05-12T16:57:00.004-06:00

A friend of mine once told me a joke about "my dog must think I'm the greatest hunter since I come home from the store with chicken, pork, beef -- all at once and in only an hour or so."

I've always figured that this was basically true.

And if not, it's really fun to imagine how your dog sees the world without all the silly logic and convention that humans have. In fact, my new friend, Jackson, thinks I am the oddest, most unpredictable drama queen he's ever met. Can't you see the quizzical "what is your deal?" look in his eyes in this picture? Here's my best approximation of what he thinks about our relationship:

You know, it's an honor where I come from if someone sticks their nose in your crotch/butt. I don't know why you get all bent out of shape about this.

Or about mud. I don't yell at you or grab your feet and wipe between the toes when you come in from outside. If it's such a big deal, maybe you should invest in chocolate-brown carpet. I don't see any reason that you can't just leave the door to the back yard open all day. (I won't mind if you close it when it's time for bed.)

It's the neighbor dogs that bark. I just stand by the fence with my blinky ball in my mouth and wonder what their deal is. Ok, sometimes I do growl at them -- but it's only because they make no sense. Who cares if there's a fence there? I only bark at the mailman, the UPS guy, the FedEx lady, the snotty dog that gets to walk on my yard every day and people that don't belong on my block! Granted I'd be happier if most people would choose to use a different sidewalk for walking, but is that so much to ask?

Oh, and I bark at Iggy when he coughs or sneezes because I really don't think those things are healthy. We need to keep him in the pack because he is the best hunter in all the land -- you should see the stash he comes home with every day! Although he seems to not be able to find rawhides as often as he should given his obvious hunting prowess...it's really odd.

Speaking of food, why do you think I want to eat the same food every day? You have something different 3 or 4 or 5 times a day!!! Would it kill you to put some some gravy on my kibble?

If I lay down when I sit by the table at dinner, then I can't really see if you're going to drop something. It's better if I sit next to you and watch closely. Then I can clean up your precious carpet before that food gets ground in there and makes a stain. (I would do this for you, out of the goodness of my heart, even if you got that chocolate-brown carpet.)

I would like to eat that dumb cat that keeps walking on the backyard fence. Ooh! Who does she think she is? Grrrrrr!

I like your pillow and the soft blanket for the same reason you do -- they're comfy. And really, I have been sleeping on that side of the people-bed for a few years now and no one's ever had a problem with it. I like the floor-bed-thingy you got me -- thanks. Now I have one more place to nap during the day. Sometimes it's hard to give all the spots equal time, but the floor-bed-thingy is not a replacement for the couch or the people-bed. And I've even added your office to the list of places to sleep. You should be honored! We can talk about your role in dispensing treats in between naps later -- you need some work on this part of your duties. I am *always* willing to go on a walk (despite your frequent, superfluous sit commands at every single, friggin' street) or car ride with you -- even at 6a.m. in the snow.

Which reminds me -- when I have my nose out the car window and am gulping air, then farting is an expression of joy. Don't knock it. And don't stop. It's hard to keep my balance with your crazy braking habits. Plus it turns off the breeze I was so enjoying.

The blinky ball is mine. Stop trying to take it away. I will allow you to play tug with it, but I do not want to "drop it". That's why I am chewing on it. Duh.

No, I don't want a bath. I don't mind licking myself. You're just jealous that you're not that flexible.

I like socks. Worn ones are better. Just because I carry them around the house doesn't mean you can blame me for the ones you've clearly misplaced in the dryer -- I only take "clean" ones when there's no other ones available.

I don't understand why you sit in the corner all day or why when you're clearly not enjoying talking to the phone you won't just put it down and let me out. I whine to remind you that you're being unreasonable about this. Really you should consider not talking on the phone. It just pisses you off. Sometimes I tolerate your frequent "work breaks" to rub my back or belly. But mostly I like those -- keep that up.

Anywho-o-o-o...time to go nap in the sunbeam on the couch. Catch ya later.

Kicker dancing is finer than frog's hair!

2010-04-29T21:19:00.004-06:00

Found this is a magazine today -- although I don't know why the web version of the article doesn't have this part (unless it's a link...I didn't follow the links).

Texas-isms:

Y'all: You all. "All y'all" is even more y'alls
All git out: Exceedingly
Dag nab it: Exclamation in lieu of honking the horn
Fixin' to: Planning to
Fair to middlin': Just okay
Hissy fit: Temper tantrum
Conniptions: A huge hissy fit
Scooch over: Move over a bit. [I always thought this was spelled "skootch" -- glad to get that straightened out!]
Coke: Any carbonated beverage:

Patron: I'd like a Coke.

Waiter: What kind of Coke would you like?

Patron: I'll have a Dr. Pepper.

Kicker dancing: Boogying to country music
Finer than frog's hair: Superlative for pretty, etc. A possible pick-up line.

I had a neighbor at my old condo's that responded with "fair to middlin'" every time I asked him how he was. I mostly saw him at the garages. He was an elderly gentleman (apparently with Texas roots).

My folks live in the Texas now and my dad used to teach an ESL (English as a 2nd language) class for a while. He has a funny story about a shy, quiet Korean woman pulling him aside after class one day to ask him what "fixin' to" meant. She thought it was a naughty word -- but was confused because all these super-polite and mostly helpful people kept saying it to her right in the middle of conversations.

I challenge you to write a me a short paragraph using all these words! I'm working on my own mini-story too...

How 'bout them cupcakes?

2010-04-20T13:17:00.005-06:00

My friend, Antonia, read about The Shoppe in Denver in a magazine. I was intrigued by their website and we set up an evening to meet there for dessert.

They are located on Colfax -- and if you're at all familiar with that street you'll be curious about which section. When I first moved to Denver Colfax was known as a street where you could buy *anything* and supposedly you could see "working girls" if you were to drive down it for a couple miles. I have no idea -- we never went back then (I was in Jr. High). About 10 years ago when I was learning to play hockey -- and starting with roller hockey -- we used to go to Pete's Kitchen afterwords for breakfast or gyros. This was back when they were winning awards for "best late night eats". Man -- I should go back. A gyro sounds pretty tasty. If our game was late enough, we could see the drag queens since they tended to congregate there after midnight. I always loved that because even if I shower after hockey (fairly big *if*) there's no way I am going to look put together at 2am -- and there were people there that looked like they stepped out of a fashion magazine. Another thing I enjoyed was that a few blocks from this night life type area was a really upscale French restaurant that there was no way I could afford at that time. I love juxtapositions like that. (Although that's probably not the right word.)

Anyways, back to the present... Recently they've done a whole "revitalization" project and moved one of the most popular independent book stores in Denver there (The Tattered Cover) as well as some trendy new restaurants. Well, we weren't headed to that new, trendy part. But a few blocks away sorta sandwiched between a liquor store, a closed retail store and some other off-beat stores is The Shoppe. The specialize in cupcakes -- and have menu of a few dozen different kinds. While waiting in line we saw a little boy carrying his cupcake back to his table. His eyes are so wide -- and he was taking every step very gingerly so as not to hurt the cupcake. Very cute. My eyes might've been just as wide when I got my order!

I tried a latte (yum!), the Lavendar Lemon Cupcake special, a sample-size peanut butter cookie sandwich and a sample-size carrot cake cupcake. I would recommend the sample-size items -- you get to try more flavors that way. The Lavender Lemon smelled like lavender and tasted like lemon. Strange separation of the senses, but wonderful!

The woman who rang me up said "now if you can't finish that all, we will give you a box". Very thoughtful of her to assume I'm not a glutton... I responded that I would give it my best shot since their website does recommend that you eat the item on the day of purchase. And if, due to extenuating circumstances, you do have to wait until the next day they seem to begrudgingly acknowledge that you could store it overnight in an airtight container.

I had no issue finishing mine...

I loved the ambiance of the place too. The dining room is probably the size of my office (then 2nd bedroom in my house). They have lots of art on the wall -- a couple walls of art on display by artists that's also for sale. It looked like those rotate periodically because I saw something announcing the next artist. They have another wall that's all paintings/decoupage/collage type stuff of cupcakes. A couple of the walls are built at angles and I love the lights. I would hang these in my house if they wouldn't look out of place.

They have a book nook and t-shirts for sale. It *is* a lot of stuff crammed into a small little space, but I didn't feel crowded. The best part might've been the turning spice rack next to the napkins filled with jars of every kind of sprinkle, decoration, red hot, candy, etc. imaginable for topping off your cupcake.

I hear they do wedding cupcakes too...

Jing!

2010-04-04T18:00:00.010-06:00

Before I knew I was getting a restaurant diary for my birthday, we went to Jing and I decided to keep track of places we ate that I liked (apparently if you say something once and embarrass Iggy by taking pictures he will remember this behavior -- and even encourage it!).

I have a soft spot for Jing. It's one of the first places Iggy and I went. We went there on what I didn't consider a date. It was February 15th. I purposely asked him out the day after Valentine's Day so that he wouldn't think it was a date. (After the fact I learned that his friends considered it a date since it was on Valentine's weekend.) We went to a movie first (Frost/Nixon) and then went to dinner afterwords to discuss the movie. When we were all done with dinner and standing up to leave, I said sorta offhandedly "Funny - we never even got around to discussing the movie." Iggy sat back down and said he really did want to talk about the movie. (Big points -- I was impressed!)

Besides that association, I love the atmosphere. There are circular booths done in white suede. There's a waterfall. And all the art and is minimal and striking. But I especially love the ceiling. There's this curtain-type thing that spirals around is a double curlicue. It has beads on the end and it must've taken several bolts of fabric to make. It starts short and gradually gets longer as it spirals toward the center. The picture below is only of half of it, and doesn't really do it justice, but you get the idea. It's really cool. I would totally do that in my living room if it wouldn't look weird.

This time we went for Denver Restaurant Week. There's a Pris fix menu for $26.40 each (or $52.80 per couple -- gotta love the Denver Mile High theme -- even though I forget which step of the Capital building is actually 5,280 feet high).

We sat in the bar for a bit since we were uncharacteristically early. I ordered a mojito of the specials menu made with Thai Basil instead of Mint, but I think I ended up getting the Strawberry Mojito. That was pretty good. Iggy tried the Ginger Limeade (vodka, Canton Cognac, fresh ginger) -- that was better.

When we sat down at our table we ordered Buddha Drops. These are drinks that come with a little flower in it (the "Buddha Drop") and eating the flower will make your mouth and tongue tingle for a while. Kinda fun. Supposedly it enhances the taste of the food and the drink. Maybe...but all I could focus on was the tingly sensation. It was fun (but distracted me from the food rather than enhanced it)! I got my Buddha Drop in a Love Potion No. 8. (Thought it was supposed to be #9? Maybe that's too risky for being in public? Maybe something got lost in translation? Maybe it's an elaborate joke on people like me who are easily confused?) That is made of vodka, Hypnotiq and grenadine. It's a pleasing lime green color. I quite enjoyed it. Iggy got the "traditional" Buddha Drop drink which probably tasted better, but wasn't lime green and didn't have a catchy name. His loss.

Clockwise below: Buddha Drop, Ginger Limeade, Strawberry Mojito?, Love Potion No. 8
I am not really a sushi fan. Or even a fan of fish in general. I say it's because I'm a Pisces and I don't eat anything that swims in solidarity. That includes alligator. It's not that I have tried most of it...it's just that it all seems to taste ... well, fishy or be chewy. On the Montana trip CuervHo ordered some sushi and sashimi and let EZ-Ho and me try some. I did like some of that but I'm not sure I could make a whole meal of it. Luckily cows and chickens don't swim or I would be a vegetarian. (haha) And honestly, it probably goes back to a childhood experience with trout. Having never seen it before we came back to the States between stays in Greece, that's what was for dinner on the farm -- the guys had spent the day checking the trout lines and we were having the rewards of their efforts. I dug right in only to have a caring aunt explain that "you have to be careful of bones". I looked all over that dumb thing and didn't see any bones. I was expecting something ... well, bone-shaped. Like the ones you see on the Flintstones. I asked for some clarification and found out that the bones were these super-fine clear things all throughout the fish. That is just way too darn much effort. I asked for a hot dog instead.

Anyways, I convinced Iggy (also not a fish fan) to try the sushi that was on the 5280 appetizer menu -- along with some reliable sliders. Not bad. Even for a non-sushi person. Iggy didn't finish his and I didn't help him out though, so maybe not something I will order next time.

The sliders were great though -- the hot jalapeno was a nice touch with the cucumber. And you gotta love a burger served on that puffy dough thing that you usually get with the duck at Chinese restaurants. Yum!

In the picture below:

Four Sauces for dipping: red wine, teriayki, wasabi, pepper; Kobe Beef Sliders: little burgers served on Shanghai buns with a cucumber strips and a jalapeno on top; California Rolls

I didn't take pictures of our dinners, but they were quite good and the presentation was cool. I had the most fun with the drinks and the appetizers...so that's what you got above.

You should go -- let me know what you think!

You Know You're High Maintenance When... (or Tales of Bridezilla, Part 1)

2010-04-02T15:19:00.004-06:00

... you take 3 salespeople to help you pick out a ring.

I'll get back to that. It's been a busy few months:

My boyfriend's family came to visit in December for Christmas (the first time I've met his mom/sister).
I went to TX on Christmas day (and stayed a week) to see my mom, dad, grandmas, brother, sister-in-law and niece.
Had a quiet New Year's by going out to dinner and watching a movie in. (Yeah, I know, I'm old and boring -- I'll get to that too.)
Went to Montana with the ColoradHos (playing as the Denver BroncHos) for a tournament in January.
One of my good friends on the hockey team had 4 brain aneurysms not long after we got back -- that was super scary, but amazingly and miraculously she's made so much progress in her recovery that they're expecting her to play hockey again in the future!!!
Went to St. Paul, MN to visit a client for a week in early February.
Got an unexpected offer on my condo in mid-February (I hadn't listed it yet, just had asked a friend what I needed to do to fix it up in order to list it).
I went to Warren, NJ the 3rd week in February to visit a different client.
The last week of February I rented a storage place, donated 75% of my furniture, moved the rest of my stuff, cleaned my soon-to-be-ex-condo, had it's furnace fixed, had it's carpets cleaned and closed on the place (a shout out to Becca and Iggy for all the moving labor and for putting up with my stress-monster ways during that time!).
We found out my grandma had 2 weeks to live, so I booked a ticket out there toward the end of that time to see her and help my mom who took FMLA leave to do the hospice care.
Got engaged.
Turned 40 (told you I was old and boring).
Actually went on the trip to TX to visit my grandma one last time.
Had an "intervention" at work to remove all other clients from my plate for one week so that I could concentrate on one that's in danger of missing a go-live in September.
And since then I have been playing catch-up from that crazy week -- it wasn't worth it, by the way, because we couldn't agree on the specs and they're still in danger of missing September and now all my other deadlines for my other clients are closer and need attention. (For the record I said I didn't like the idea, so perhaps I'm guilty of not putting in the 150% effort needed to make it work. Most likely, yes.)
I think that's it. We've now arrived at April 2nd and Easter weekend. Holy moly, where does the time go? (See? I even sound old and boring. ha!)

I was completely surprised by the proposal. We went to dinner and a play the day before my birthday because I was planning to work on my birthday (a Saturday), then play hockey, then go out with the team for dinner/drinks. Iggy and I had a lovely dinner Friday night at Limon (planning to blog that later) and the play (The Goodbye People) was good. When we got home I said I wanted to open my presents.

I should pause here to say that I am terrible with presents. If I buy you one, and I see you, I will give it to you. I can rarely wait for the day that occasions the present. I should probably become a last minute shopper -- it might be cheaper because after I give you the first one I tend to have to go and buy one so I have something on the right day. And...I'm just as bad at getting them. My mom/dad shipped me some presents, and my mom always wraps lots of stuff individually. I opened present per day until they ran out.

Iggy has strict rules about waiting until the day for presents. But I think I'd worn him down because he said OK this time. I opened some fun stuff - a restaurant diary, a wine label preserver and diary, a subscription to 5280 magazine (a Denver/Colorado magazine), a vodka infuser (so much fun! -- have had one OK batch so far and one pretty good one -- the good news is that it's fun to test!). After all that he said "I have one more present" and that's when he asked me if I would marry him. I was so surprised! And I'm a good guesser! (Hey - this is my blog - I can spin my abilities any way I want!) He said he struggled with what to buy because he's not sure how I *really* feel about diamonds.

After I got back from TX and Iggy got back from the guys' trip to Las Vegas for the opening weekend of the college hoops tournament, we went to the store to trade in the solitaire ring for a different ring. Normally I wouldn't probably have done that -- because I like keeping the gift itself. But he said that was the plan, so I figured it must be a good one. Now, I am not a very good shopper. I like having a list and a plan and getting in and out as quickly as possible. So I looked at the website over the course of the time he was in LVNV. I picked out a few, printed out the pages and took them to the store. I even said on the way there "hopefully this will take like 30 minutes and then we can go to lunch". Iggy, in his wise ways, said "maybe we should have lunch first". That was a good call. At the store I showed the salesperson my list. She said she'd look them up and to browse for a minute.

?!?!

I didn't want to browse randomly. I wanted to see my list. And I was tired of all the random salespeople gushing "Oh congratulations!" And I was not pleased that there was a crowd of people to wade through. Eventually she gave the list to someone else to look up -- apparently there were easier customers to wait on that actually liked browsing and wanted to make an afternoon of it. Salesperson 1 down.

The only part of browsing I enjoyed was watching the other people. Luckily there were lots of those. There was a knot of girls (women in their early 20s) picking out an engagement ring. There was a woman there older than me. She and her future husband seemed to be beaming as brightly as the 20-year-olds. I know have a little hang-up currently about being 40 and being a bride -- I seem too old to be all giddy and gushing, don't I? Not that I was ever that way, I guess. I'm also a little hesitant because I was married once before and I feel a little guilty at going through this "once-in-a-lifetime" process for the second time. Not that any part of it's really been the same -- including my feelings. I think when I was 24 I figured it "made sense" and was the "next step" after dating for 5 years... Anyways. Back to Bridezilla and the ring selection!

Salesperson 2 was a guy -- I hoped that would be better and he'd be more no-nonsense about the whole thing. He looked at their inventory on the computer in the back room (after inviting us to browse and get ideas while he was occupied). When he came back he said "we have 2 of your top 3, so let's go find them." Ok, better. But we couldn't find either of them. Apparently they have no organizational system at all. I picked some randomly after that. The "rules" only allow you to keep 3 rings out at a time, so I kept having to choose one to give back. Sometimes he'd put it in the case and sometimes in his pocket. (Does that seem fishy to you?) Usually that was really easy, but at one point I had to randomly pick. And I kept holding my solitaire up to the ring in question to try and imagine the diamond in there... Eventually he offered to get a loose stone to let me see how it might look. That was good. A couple of the settings that seemed cool looked overpowering (to me) with an actual diamond as the featured attraction. Then I thought I'd like to look at the one I randomly selected to give back. Of course we couldn't find it again. (I wonder how many rings they lose even with the "only 3" rule.) Eventually Salesperson 2 said "I have an idea -- I will be right back."

His idea was to bring in Salesperson 3. Apparently each time we got a new salesperson we went up the foodchain of salesperson hierarchy. I was thinking at some point we might actually get to talk to Tom Shane himself. This guy said "let me double-check the inventory and see if I can find your #1 choice." He also invited us to browse while we waited.

(sigh)

The good news is that he did come back with the ring I wanted to see! It had been ordered off the web and was going to be shipped out at the end of the day. So I felt a little guilty about choosing someone else's ring, but he assured me that he'd changed it so that the Kansas City store would be fulfilling that order now.

I really tried not be be a Bridezilla, but I think I turned out worse than all the other brides-to-be there. Most of them were excited to tell their story to the salesperson and seemed to love hearing "congrats" from people whose job it was to sell them a ring (granted one of the Tom Shane commercials says they don't pay their sales staff on commission -- cynical me thinks that instead they probably use a bonus system).

It’s All Relative

2010-01-01T21:23:00.001-07:00

As I am approaching 40, and starting to feel old, it's always nice of my relatives to remind me that everything is relative (a shout out to my college buddies who thought the Physics 2 lesson on Einstein's theory of relativity applied to all things in the universe -- including emotions, luck, and 5-year plans).

I just got back from a quick trip to see my family at Christmas. To set the background:

my dad's mom - Dot - is 96. On Boxing Day she ended up getting admitted to the hospital with pneumonia.
my mom's mom - Annie - is 88. She fell and broke her arm recently, then during rehab fell and bruised her back, so she's in a downhill snowball of increasing pain right now.
my niece - Merci - is 6. I love this because there is a 90-year age gap between her and Dot.

My folks have been caring for their moms for the last 6+ years. It's noble. It sounds exhausting to me. There's figuring out how to pay for it all (if health insurance sounds confusing try that combined with medicare, veteran's affairs benefits and retirement benefits). There's the emotions involved - from the "you kids are all trying to get your inheritance before I'm even gone" to the "I wish the Good Lord would take me now" to the "no one ever visits me". My dad stops by his mom's place at least 4 days a week. He may not stay long (Dot goes to bed at 7pm most days, so with long hours at work it's hard to get back from work before she's getting ready for bed), but he picks up and delivers all her groceries and does all the laundry. My mom spends 2 hours most days after work with Annie. This boggles my mind - 9 hours at work (with a lunch break that she usually works through), the 1 work commute, then 2 hours talking and playing cards ... when does she eat or sleep or do the insurance thing? Does she do anything for herself? I hope I can handle it with as much grace as my folks when it gets to be my turn to take care of them.

I didn't get to see Dot too much, sadly. I saw her the first morning, but that afternoon was when she had to go to the hospital. She was feeling well enough the third day to see us for a bit. It's tough to talk to her because she won't wear her hearing aids. By the time she got them, she was so used to silence that background noises like the clicking of the car blinker bothered her. So I have to shout, but even then my voice is too soft and it reminds me of a comedy of errors the conversations we do have.

HOW ARE YOU DOING TODAY?
Yes, lovely.
DID YOU HAVE A NICE LUNCH?
I don't think so.

It almost makes sense, but not quite. As a result, I decided not to let the same thing happen to me. So last year when the doctor said I could maybe use an eyeglass prescription, I decided I should probably get it filled right away. I have to say that I find glasses annoying - and that whole seductive librarian thing I thought would make it fun just isn't all I thought it would be. (sigh)

Moral: Don't wait.

My cousin Les (who is younger than me and in his residency for oncology) flew in to see Annie for a Christmas surprise. Les and I spent most of our days in town with Annie playing cards. One day we showed up and Annie was slumped over in her wheelchair in a dark room. She was in too much pain to move, so she couldn't push the call button to get help. Her oxygen wasn't on - so I'm not really sure why they had the tubes in her nose. I hate to think how long she was sitting there. But I do feel lucky that we walked in at that moment to push the button and get the oxygen back on. And to distract her a bit so she could maybe ignore the pain. So I suppose I don't blame her for saying "I wish the Good Lord would just take me" a half dozen times. On the other days we mostly just played cards or wrote letters for her. I am vaguely wondering what the people who get the letters I wrote for her will think. First there's the handwriting - mine is atrocious and obviously not hers. Then there's the "voice"; if she said "I think I'm going to die in this place" then I wrote "I might be in the rehab unit for a while." Annie has always been a bit of "realist" ("the glass is half empty"). And if she repeated herself (either due to pain meds or the early signs of Alzheimer's, I am not sure which) I wrote something else. If I knew the people, I wrote a note from me to say hi, and if not I wrote about the card games. I wished I'd kept track of how many times she told me to "enjoy being young because getting old isn't all it's cracked up to be". I don't feel like I'm exaggerating to say it was nearing triple digits for the 4 days (probably about 16 hours total) that I was there.

Moral: Enjoy what you have going on right now - tomorrow's going to be a whole different game.

Merci instantly took to Les. She thought it was entirely funny to call him "the doctor in the house": "the doctor in the house will probably knock over the Jenga tower this time!" or "the doctor in the house and I are watching football". This would be followed by peals of giggles. They watched a football game together where he taught her to cheer for the Steelers. She had never seen football but learned how to yell at the TV quickly even if she had no idea what was happening. "You've got to be stronger than those other guys! Go Steelers - Go Steelers - Go Steelers!!!" She still has unending energy - it really is amazing. She gets up at 5:30am and doesn't want to go to bed until 10pm. If only I had that discipline, enthusiasm, and ...well... energy.

Moral: Amuse yourself.
Enthusiasm is contagious. Try it out.

So...thanks to my relatives for the reminder that it's all relative.

Happy 2010 everyone.

Grout Vision

2009-12-14T09:24:00.003-07:00

Have you ever had a completely obscure item demand your attention? Something you never noticed before somehow becomes un-missable all of a sudden?

I remember when my parents came out to help me paint the exterior of my new (to me) house (built the same year I was born). And yes, my parents have an odd sense of what's "fun" and how to spend their vacations... For the weeks during which I was trying to pick colors, I suddenly noticed a lot of interesting choices that my neighbors used. Prior to that I'd only really noticed the turquoise house with white trim. And maybe the Jamaican lady's bright pink house. But that also had white trim and wasn't glaring -- the only reason to notice her house was the large number of whirly rainbow kite things in her front yard. Take, for instance, the house in a cul-de-sac down the street: it was an decent mint green which contrasted nicely with the dark wood accents like the porch. The maroon trim also matched nicely with the roof and wood accents. But mint green and maroon as a pairing? Not for me. I got a lot of ideas of what not to do. In the end, I chose something super-boring: tan with forest green trim and a brilliant blue door. (Yes, that might've been the last neighborhood in the entire USA that isn't covenant controlled!)

But that sort of fixation (colors to paint with) seems sorta normal given the project I was taking on...

However, after that project was done, I suddenly focused in on caulking everywhere I saw it: public restroom sinks, the counter at a hole-in-the-wall pizza shop, the shower at an upscale hotel, etc. Caulking is everywhere! I had no idea. Had never even noticed it before. This came about because my dad had me re-caulking several areas on the exterior of my house before we started painting. While I was doing that, he was busy sanding off a water damaged spot on the north-facing wall, resealing it, priming it, etc. I definitely had the easier job. But he finished first. He came over to inspect my work. He burst out, "Tammy, it's a house, not a Picasso! It doesn't have to be a perfect masterpiece!" Apparently I am more of a perfectionist than I thought...

That was more than a decade ago, and while it's not as prevalent now, I still seem to notice other people's caulking jobs than I think most people do...

A week or so ago I got sucked into a project on the guest bathroom. There's a deadline since the guests arrive 12/20. I replaced the faucet (which the directions said would take "approximately 12 minutes" -- it took me 2 days and an additional trip to Lowe's). I mopped the ceiling to get the dirt/mold off that. I ripped out the caulking to replace it (ahem! It needed it - really, I swear! ok, maybe not). In the process I tried whitening the grout with bleach. When that didn't work, I went to Lowe's and bought tools to scrape out all the old grout and re-do that.

So, of course, I've started seeing the grout in the master bathroom and on tiled floors at restaurants. sigh. I'm wondering if I'm replacing my caulking tunnel vision with a grout one... Is that progress?

My Life Since High School: Reader's Digest Version

2009-12-08T18:41:00.003-07:00

An old high school friend found me on Facebook. He asked me for a "Reader's Digest" condensed version of my last 20+ years. It was sorta fun to write up (and sorta morbid because it got me thinking about obituaries). Some of this is probably repeat for this audience, but I thought I'd post it -- and you should send me yours too!

School/Work:

· I worked at a book store during college. This was my favorite job ever. If there was a way to make a living at that, I would totally do it. I’m keeping it in mind for when I retire, although I acknowledge that there won’t be any books left in the world by that time. (As an aside, I got an Amazon Kindle for my last birthday and love that too…)

· 1992: Got my BS Aerospace Engineering – but I never used it to be a Rocket Scientist.

· My first “real” job out of college was as an “Engineer” for a company that made for roadside sobriety testing. Then I moved to the software industry since that was taking off. I worked at a dot-com for almost 8 years. I had several desks at that company in several buildings in downtown Denver, and the company had 5 names…but it was all the same group of people. I never got a car as a signing bonus and I didn’t retiresuper-rich at age 24.

· 2001: Was bored being a software developer and talking only to the computer all day long, so got an MBA International Business hoping to move into something where I could talk to actual people. Haven’t really used that either, but I did switch career paths.

· My current job is as a “business analyst” where I write technical software specs, but talk to the client to figure out what it is that they want. It’s my 2nd favorite job – and it pays a lot better. I get to work from home and travel to client sites. This is almost how I pictured my life as a “grown up” – if there were international travel it would 100% (except the part about being a female-James-Bond spy). It’s not as glamorous as I pictured!

Love/Family:

· Best Friend: I am still friends with my high school BFF. Outside of my family she has been my most constant friend/companion.

· College sweetheart: We dated for 5+ years and were married for 10. When we divorced I got my first apartment on my own ever (always had roommates until then).

· Ariel: I had a cat that I got in college outside a local grocery. She lived to be 19. When she passed away this summer, it was the first time I felt I was truly alone in the world. (My mom/dad/brother/grandparents all live in Texas now.)

· Akela: I had a dog, an Alaskan Malamute, that I took through a pet therapy program. We spent 9 months visiting an Alzheimer’s unit in North Boulder every weekend, but the clinical smells and machines made her nervous. So we switched to a halfway house in Boulder for the next 2 years. The whole experience was very rewarding for me (and hopefully the dog and the people we visited).

· Hockey: I picked up roller hockey, then ice hockey during my dot-com years. I’ve broken both wrists (separate incidents) while participating. If I break a 3rd one, I promised my mom I would take up ballroom dancing instead. I’ve played all over Colorado, in Laramie, Las Vegas, Dallas, Reykjavik and Toronto. I missed the Calgary games with one of my wrist injuries. That’s all with my women’s team. I occasionally play co-ed, but don’t travel with them.

· Travel: I’ve gotten to see a bit more of the world (my favorite pastime). I’ve been scuba diving in Bonaire, St. John and Cozumel. I went to Great Britain (Scotland, Wales, England) on a bus tour (gah! – possible preview of retirement travel). I took my brother to Rome, Italy one Thanksgiving. Went to Paris one summer to visit a different friend. Had the chance to move there, but couldn’t make the leap. I visited a friend in New Zealand (Wellington area) this year.

· Road Bike: With my tax return in 2005 I bought a road bike (from a company known for their mountain bikes, if that tells you anything about how I do things). It was on sale and 2 years old (still new on the showroom floor though). My tax return only paid for about half of it. It was the single best investment I’ve ever made. Even though I’m not very good at it, I love riding and in the summer try to take my “lunch” for a couple hours and ride the trails in the Denver Metro. I rode my first organized tour (Elephant Rock – 33 mile road route) this summer.

· Next Chapter: I spent a couple of years “dating as an adult” (without the coercion of high school dances and meeting hundreds of new people in massive college classes) and enjoying being on my own, doing whatever I wanted whenever I wanted. I have never really believed in “the one” theory, but last fall I re-met someone I knew years ago and I might be changing my mind…

Bonny Lass

2009-11-25T11:57:00.003-07:00

As I see posts all over Facebook and Blogger about what people are thankful for, I decided that I just had to actually sit down and write this blog that's been in my mind for a few months now.

It was late afternoon one day this summer. I'd had a hectic day and really wanted to squeeze in some "me" time. The best (or most enjoyable) way for me to do that is ride my road bike. But it was getting close to when I'd hit darkness and I have no light for my bike plus I just really like being in the sunshine. (I swear I am part plant and photosynthesize.) In the end I decided that it would be motivation. I was going to do my 60-minute route but would have to go all out to beat the streetlights turning on.

Toward the end of my ride I came up to the last of four really awkward road crossings. This one you approach as you're headed down a steep, curvy path and it's a narrow dip in the pavement following a sharp turn that puts you out into the street -- at which point you can look for cars/other obstacles. There was a woman standing exactly in the middle of the sidewalk dip. She was straddling her bike, but looked confused. I stopped to see if she was OK -- but before you think I'm a good Samaritan, I should admit that the other choice I had was to run directly into her.

We had this amazing conversation standing there in our funny little bike-riding outfits straddling our bikes. She's a breast cancer survivor. She spent 3 months debating about buying a bike and hauled several people to the store with her to look at them. She trusted her son's opinion most, but didn't want the bike he liked. So she and I discussed her bike and why it fit her (I think she made the right decision -- even if it was partly based on the fact that she liked the color). She told me her "daughter" (who is not really her daughter but who is married to her nephew) told her to keep her iPod turned down low while riding so she could cross intersections safely. And her other daughter (not sure if this one is a biological daughter or not) said to watch our for scary things. We laughed about that phrase. This daughter has a 3-year old and sometimes lets her "kiddie speak phrases" spill over into her adult conversations. It was an amazing little community she had and I loved hearing all the support and how she'd been using this as part of her breast cancer recovery. Very inspiring. We also compared monthly mileages and routes. We talked about how much riding made us feel free and how we liked being outside and going "fast". Then she asked me something odd:

Do you ever just do something crazy?

Um, well, I've known you about 15 minutes and only because you're blocking the path. You seem cool, but you're also about 15 years older than me. So I'm unsure if our definitions of "crazy" are the same.

Turns out she had a $100 bet with some girlfriends. They had a lunch planned at The Fort. So she mentioned she might just ride out there and back. They scoffed at her since that's probably a 30-40 mile ride (one way) for her. I told her it would be long based on her current mileage, but it totally sounded reasonable. And if she wanted a ride home, couldn't they just throw the bike in the car? I hope she did it. That's not so crazy after all - it was just a new adventure for her.

At that point we realized that it was basically almost dark -- and prior to our chat we'd both been trying to race home to beat the darkness. She said something about it being scary to ride in the dark (guess her daughter knew was she was talking about after all!). So we rode most of the way to her house together and then I peeled off for my last couple blocks. It actually was a little scary riding in the dark...

So I just wanted to share with you all one thing I am thankful for: uplifting chance encounters where you feel like somehow you were supposed to be in that moment even though it was not at all in your plan. A bit wordy, but it's one of my favorite things.

Oh, and you guessed it. Her name is Bonnie.

eBooks (or A Ripple in the Space-Time Continuum)

2009-10-22T23:21:00.002-06:00

I love my eBook! I've had it about 8 months now. Why do I love it? Let me count the ways!

It's lighter than carrying several books around. I realize it's ridiculous to need to have choices of books on a trip, but I'm neurotic that way. I am fine with going to the store to pick out a new book (love doing that!) but I don't ever want to be caught without a choice of what to read.
I can download books instantly. Granted my Kindle only works in North America, but before I went to New Zealand earlier this year I simply downloaded 4 or 5 new books. This also allows me to avoid a situation like on my trip to North Carolina a year or so ago. I took my 450-page book that I'd been working on for 3 weeks. I was on page 185. The trip was so awful that I spent so much time delayed at the airport and wasting time in the hotel room (work was a disaster too) that I actually finished the book after 3 days. I surfed the web for the nearest bookstore: there was one locally open from 9-4 (I was on-site from 7:30am-6pm, so that wouldn't work) or a Barnes and Noble down the highway about 25 miles. I went to the grocery store where I had choices of Harlequin Romance or Louis L'Amour. I should've taken the opportunity to broaden my horizons (having never read one of either) but instead I was grumpy about it and decided to "tough it out" by waiting to buy a book at the airport.
I can search the book easily. I love electronic searches!
I look up more words that I don't know - because the dictionary is *right there* and I barely have to move a finger to get the answer.
I can search things on Wikipedia - like when I was recently reading a historical novel and I kept looking up events and people. (I was highly impressed that the author got it right – I mean *I read it on the internet so it must be true*!)
I can make notes on the fly and highlight stuff I like - and retrieve it later.
I feel like part of Star Trek when I read it. Seriously - I'm participating in the future! Someday I'll have a flying car too!

I would like my eBook even better if it:

Had a touch screen.
Allowed me to share books I purchased with my friends.
Had a color screen.

And guess what? There's one on the market that has some limited capabilities like that!
So by the time I buy my next eBook it will be even cooler! I love competition that benefits the consumer (but that's another topic).

This week I've seen a couple of interesting news stories. In the first it seems that there's a market to *print* books that were only available electronically to-date.

Hewlett-Packard Co., the world's top seller of personal computers and printers, is teaming up with online retailer Amazon.com Inc. to join Internet search leader Google Inc. as the latest entrants in the quirky new market of re-creating digital books as paperbacks.

The concept represents a different type of book recycling, as digital copies created from print get a second life as paperbacks.

MICHAEL LIEDTKE, HP, Amazon to Sell Paperback Versions of E-Books, AP Technology Writer, October 21, 2009

Does that seem odd to anyone else? (Ironic? I don't know anymore – after the controversy of Alanis Morissette's apparently misinformed definition of "ironic" I avoid that word.) I guess it's not really all that odd. I work with companies who "want to go paperless" but then print out every meeting agenda and who are miffed when I tell them the software system they bought from my company only has on-line help. (If you printed out our on-line help it would take 1000+ pages.)

The second article was equally pause-worthy, but for a completely different reason. It almost compared the advent of the eBook with the advent of the Guttenberg Press! Holy Smokes!

On Monday, the Kindle 2 will become the first e-reader available globally. The only other events as important to the history of the book are the birth of print and the shift from the scroll to bound pages. […] In literary terms it's a transbook, by which I mean that it is the book which can contain all books. Why are so many writers so afraid of this staggeringly wonderful possibility? A book is a singular object that can contain many voices, but the transbook has the potential to be a singular object containing all voices. It is not just another kind of media; it is the dream of ultimate text.

Stephen Marche, The Book That Contains All Books, Wall Street Journal, October 18, 2009 (quoted from Amazon's Kindle Blog)

It's not that I disagree. But W-O-W! I totally like the idea of a book which contains all books. It's Escher-esque. It makes me feel like there's been a ripple in the space-time continuum like when Marty McFly started to disappear because his mom started falling in love with him.

Stress and the Inner Valley Girl

2009-10-05T21:04:00.003-06:00

I've missed you. I've missed blogging. I've thought about things to say...but my work (which hit a slower period when my first client of the year went live in March) has been C_R_A_Z_Y! Or normal. Really the slower period that allowed me to think and breathe and relax was atypical.

I wanted to write about a piece I've been going over in my mind on my bike ride -- hopefully I will get to that later this week.

But here's today's ... boggle ... I guess, is a good word.

I ordered a bottle of wine with my take-away dinner. The hotel bar tender asked "how many glasses?" I said "one". You would think this was unheard of! (Is New Jersey dry? Or is it, like, part of a northern Bible Belt? Maybe I missed that somewhere...) I was planning to consume it over my entire stay here. After I got back to my room I remembered that I only stay here 2 nights...even though this trip lasts through Thursday. I have to fly to the next location on Wednesday. Maybe he had a point. It's already half gone, though, and I think I'll have just one more tiny little glass before I go to bed...
I TOTALLY thought that it would be SO COOL to be that super-smart business person that hops between cities consulting with clients and solving problems. This combines a couple things I like: travel and problem-solving. But now that I at least travel and problem solve I feel sorta disillusioned. I never feel super-smart or like I save the day. The client always wants something my company's product won't quite do. And it really is a lot of effort to convince them that my way is so much better and really is what they wanted even though they didn't know it. It's just not that glamorous! (siiiighhhh)
Plus, let me just say that I somehow missed the trip to Hawaii even though I helped with that client. Instead, I, like totally, get to go to rad places like Cincinnati, Salisbury (SC), Burlington, St.Paul, etc. Nothing wrong with any of them - they all had their own adventure (remind me to tell you about the 3-alarm hotel in Cincinnati sometime) and I think I might be stora glad I made to all of them. Fer sure.

Anywhooooo - back to why I need a bottle of wine:

The trip started by getting a center seat on the plane. (Like, no WAY!)
Then I watched a woman stow her wheelie bag in the overhead bin, walk 4 more rows and stow her other carry-on in the bin across from my seat. (Which totally explains why there usually aren't any places left for my rollie bag!!!) THEN she sat NEXT TO ME and ate her smelly sandwich. EEEWWWW!
Upon arriving at Newark I had this total deja vu...I guess from a previous business trip to Mahwah. That's like a whole other story.
My fellow Business Analyst told me "it's really easy - just take the shuttle from the airport to the hotel". I asked an information person for the way to the hotel shuttles. He told me there weren't any. Um, so, like, what? So, ok. I'll just ask someone else. They told me to take the train. Back to that Mahwah thing...I did that then and got my entire party lost and the little conductor guy got mad at me for missing my stop. Then he stood by me until the next stop to make sure I AND my party got off his train. Lousy conductor guy. Not even cute.
Anyway I do take the NJ Transit and after the 3rd train get to the station at the town listed on the hotel address. But, like, guess what? The hotel isn't really in that town. Like how's that even possible? Rat-friggin' bas....nevermind. I give up, call the hotel and order them to send the shuttle.
A car shows up. Black. No stickers. Guy hops out. Says "you need a ride?" Did I happen to mention that by this point it's totally DARK and I'm completely frustrated? Do I get in this car? Did I mention that the book I was reading while I was waiting was a mystery/thriller about serial killers? Then he says "you're going to the Marriott, right?" So either that's an amazing coincidence (or maybe it's the only hotel in town and I do have luggage with me) or he's my ride. My stress level is nearing the "high" marker. Whatever.
This hotel doesn't have room service. What the?!?

And, in re-reading this, apparently when I vent, I resort back to the Valley Girl talk I so carefully emulated in 6th grade -- from all my cool friends that were newly-arrived from the States and totally in the know of what was happenin'!

Broking: not just a funny word

2009-09-09T09:50:00.002-06:00

I learned a new word today. My company strives for "broking excellence" in the insurance brokerage market (I don't really know what that is - I have a lot to learn, even though I've been here 3 years -my job is related to a different branch of the company).

Although, I guess Merriam-Webster recognizes it as a word:

Main Entry: bro·king Function: noun Date: 1569 chiefly British : the business of
a broker : brokerage

The business of broking sounds a lot like Wall Street trading to my uneducated ear. There are big centers around the world, with open cubicle format and big monitors on the walls showing current quotes/prices and such.

At any rate...I started out thinking "broking" was a funny word, but ended up feeling overwhelmed by an industry I didn't know existed that's actually related to the paycheck I bring home.

Frosting Deprivation – then Backlash!

2009-08-30T12:08:00.003-06:00

This summer I went to a birthday party for a person that doesn't like cake. This is a completely foreign concept to me, by the way. At the time I was sorta happy to not have the calories. But over the next couple weeks I kept thinking about frosting – which is the real reason I like cake. You can't just have frosting, coincidentally, you have to have cake to anchor the frosting – and it allows you to pleasurably consume more frosting if you have cake than if you were just eating frosting out of the jar. Not that I've done that – oh no, never, never. Ok, maybe once or twice. Or that I've conducted a scientific study. But I am pretty sure I'm right about this frosting stuff. I have a lot of experience.

At any rate, I went to a lunch at P.F. Chang's with some girlfriends. They have those mini-desserts. After lunch, I ordered first and I asked for two: the velvet cake and the chocolate one. You should've seen the look on the face of the girl across from me. "I didn't know you could order more than one!"
she blurted. I giggled, but honestly, I don't think mine is a revolutionary idea…no one likes to be limited, do they? Both the desserts I ordered have plenty of icing.

About a week later I found myself dog sitting for some friends. I went to the store to buy myself some snacks and found myself in front of a single-sized serving of carrot cake. Coincidence? Probably not. Here's the cake before I consumed it – look at that frosting-to-fork ratio!

I was surprised that I couldn't eat the whole thing in one sitting – and not even in a single day. I would normally say that's a sign of maturity and growing up…but I really don't think a mature person would still eat so much of the cake that they feel icky. Granted I felt slightly better after complaining on FaceBook that I ate too much frosting. But it didn't stop me from finishing the cake the next day (and getting a minor sugar rush/wooziness all over again).

I must conclude from this experience that I should've had cake the day of the birthday party because I had thought about it so much that my body needed it. In the end that would've saved me a lot of calories.

The moral of the story is: even if you don't like cake, people expect birthday cake at a birthday party. (So please have mercy on us and have cake anyways!)

Memory Lapse (High School)

2009-08-26T12:30:00.003-06:00

I found myself in one of those situations where I was feeling disgruntled and simultaneously appalled that I was feeling that way. Does that happen to you?

A high school buddy "friended" me on FaceBook and his profile picture showed someone I didn't really recognize. I was vaguely offended that this person had "gone on" with his life and visibly aged – that they didn't fit into the mold or the image I still held of him. At the same time, it was cool to see that he'd turned out totally different than I expected and that he seemed super happy. Really, this was a minor player in my high school life (and never a romantic interest). It's akin to the feeling I have when my cousins (who were 2 when I met them) started driving, or graduated high school or (gasp) got married. It's jarring and elating all at once.

So it got me thinking specifically about high school. I HATED high school. Or, more specifically I HATED Greeley. I've basically blocked a lot of that experience from my mind, I think. For example, in the last few months the following events came up:

A friend says I wrote letters to him one summer that he spent out of state. While writing letters to an acquaintance that is out of state is definitely something I would've done as a teenager, I had no recollection of this until he produced the letters.
Another friend emailed me that "every time I hear Pour Some Sugar On Me by Def Leppard, I think of sitting on your kitchen floor and singing that at the top of our lungs". I can totally see us doing this – because we were
HOT (so hot), Sticky Sweet! From [our] heads to [our] feet! Yeah!
But again, I have absolutely no recollection of it.
I found this picture of me on FaceBook:

Don't I look like I'm happy and carefree and obnoxious? Even though they seem totally in character with how I remember myself during that time, I just don't remember those moments. I do, however, remember just about everything since the minute I left Greeley.

There were certainly some good things that came of my time in Greeley (my best friend to this day, my brother and I learned to drive, my parents were the happiest I'd seen them in a while, I learned how to survive in "typical America", etc.) but I counted the minutes until I could leave.

I moved to college in the fall of 1988 and spent the next year coming back to Greeley on the occasional weekend to visit my mom and brother. When my dad came back from his remote tour and the family moved to New York State, I gave Greeley the double-bird in the rearview mirror and avoided it for the next several years.

I remember the first time I was asked to go back and do something fun with a friend. I really didn't want to, but it was important to her so eventually I said I'd go. She drove. When we got to the old section of town, my body had a physical reaction – my throat closed up, I gulped for air and hyper ventilated. But it largely turned out to be anticlimactic. So I got to thinking maybe it was really just my issue. In fact many of my high school buddies still lived there – and were raising their families there.

There are some obvious superficial reasons that I disliked Greeley almost immediately when we moved there:

I was in High School in Las Vegas. But in Greeley, 9^th grade was still Jr. High. (Huge insult at 14!)
In Las Vegas I had 6 classes – including computers!!!
In Greeley I had to take 7 classes AND they didn't have a computer class (what sort of backwards place was this to not have computers in the mid-1980s?!?). So I had to pick 2 classes to join mid-semester that I didn't think I would fail. So I took Home Ec (my male counselor seemed to think I could handle that) and French 2 (since I was in French 3 by the time we left Germany, I figured this was safe, plus the counselor wouldn't let me go higher than that without some sort of testing despite what my transcript said).
Everyone in Greeley had lived there for a lifetime. This was unfathomable to me. I actually had someone tell me "don't talk to him; he wet his pants in the 3^rd grade". So, apparently a single mistake in an entire lifetime would never be forgiven AND I was lacking a lifetime of history which would tell them who I "really" was. This was completely foreign to a kid that moved every 2 years on average.

And a couple reasons I was slow to let go of my prejudice:

I got to read Romeo and Juliet for the 3^rd time (and in my third school). Lucky me - but my essay was easy to "write"...
I took all the math (my favorite subject) my school even offered by the end of my junior year, but if I'd lived on the "better" side of town I could've gone to a high school that offered Calculus.
My Speech/Semantics teacher thought it was appropriate to let 2 students use the PA-system for their project. These two students had the principal announce that there had just been a shooting in the front drive and that the school was on lock-down. They used the next 10 minutes to observe our communication and then presented on "the language of duress" or some nonsense. Note that this is a good decade+ before Columbine. Nevermind that I'd actually lived through something similar when we were overseas (but with unknown foreign terrorists to blame, not American teenagers). After class I told the teacher about that incident and that I sincerely hoped she lost her job. I didn't follow through on going to the principal though – after a little reflection he was also without the ability to judge appropriateness (since he was a participant).

There were some other less obvious reasons:

A girlfriend of mine was raped by one of her sister's friends at a party her older sister threw when the parents were out of town.
Another girlfriend was raped while walking home from cheerleading practice.
Another friend's mom got a restraining order against her dad when they moved out. Eventually my friend and her mom just left town in the middle of the night with no forwarding address. We did hear from them later…but several months later.
One of my girlfriends had her mom and dad start charging her rent the day she turned 18. This was mid-way through our senior year. Who does that?

I'm not saying these things don't happen. I think one of my biggest issues with Greeley is that it was billed as "an all-American town – the perfect place to raise a family". It's not like a "big city" where everyone universally accepts that "bad things" happen.

Beneath the lovely veneer Greeley was insidious and creepy. I always get the image of the witch in Snow White when I think about this… At this point, Greeley's grown enough that its creepiness would be expected, in my unsolicited opinion. Or maybe it's just me – and my trite coming-of-age experience.

Thanks… (or “The Cast of Characters”)

2009-08-03T23:25:00.002-06:00

On my long ride this weekend, I got to thinking about why it is that I get so frustrated with wasting time. I've been frustrated that it took me so long to get out of a relationship that wasn't great for me…and with not trusting my instincts on several occasions in relationships. My only real conclusion was that lame saying about "you have to have the bad to appreciate the good." Aside from that drivel, I realized I did learn a few things along the way – and that there have been a lot of people in my life who've taught me something whether I wanted to learn it or not.

I think that all of these concepts have put me in the spot I am today…and losing Ariel seemed like a good place to review it all. So I think, in short, that I need to stop wasting time being annoyed about wasting time (yes, I get the irony there)! I'm in a good spot now.

Family

The 'rents: A constant in my life. Always pro-Tamma even when they tell me I'm not doing it right. I'm very fortunate here.

Bro: True ally in learning to navigate life – when we were military brats, when we were trying to figure out life in the USA and small-town America (mind boggling!), and in learning how to integrate life outside the nest with our upbringing. And I had a fabulous time touring Rome with you – even if your idea of being a tourist didn't include the Coliseum or the Vatican. Eating/drinking our way through a week was fabulous!

SO's

Irv: I will never be happy in a relationship where there's not a lot of physical contact/affection. Sadly, I had to learn this one again. (I am a slow learner.) I always fall in love intellectually, but I am never happy with only the intellectual connection.

Zog: Communication and expectations. We spent so much time together that it seemed like we really should be able to read each other without speaking. But that's just not how it works. (sigh) Thanks for all the work we did learning about how to communicate. And along the way it opened my eyes to what I expected the world to be – and how that was so different from most of the people around me. And thanks for getting me into playing hockey – it's been a conversation starter in so many areas.

RBS: You deciphered the "blank look" that has plagued me for years. I could've avoided a lot of frustration if I'd figured that out before. Now I'm learning to use that as my poker face. ;-)

Rico: Even if it was all a "what if" scenario you reminded me to dream big. And I love how different our outlooks are – I am constantly learning from you.

Alan: You believed in me and got me started on a new career path. I am so happy to no longer be a code monkey! I would be dreading every day still if I had to write code all day and not occasionally talk to a real live person without having to first read up on the latest Java lingo. You helped me pick out/buy my road bike and are largely responsible for my current obsession with riding. I liked to ride my bike before, but became addicted once I got a really fast bicycle. Thanks for pushing me to that next level. It helps immensely with my ability to deal with the world.

Chix

Becca: A constant in my life. Always pro-Tamma even when I'm being an idiot. And usually not afraid to tell me I'm being an idiot. Honorary sister, really.

Calle: My partner in crime! I wish I'd met you years ago – we've had great adventures and have more ideas for adventures than I think we'll be able to squeeze into this lifetime. We have so many similar interests and life occurrences it's a little unreal sometimes. But let's keep it that way – always push the envelope!

…and the fine print

This is by no means an exhaustive list. It's simply as far as I got during my 3-hour ride…and as much as I can remember now that I'm back in front of the computer. My brain is super-dinky.

And, while I know you're significant, Iggy, I don't know what your bottom line contribution to my life is yet. It's easier to see that when it's either existed for a lifetime or it's over and done with. I'm by no means ready to be "over and done with" our time… Thanks for the last week – I know in reality that I was a bit melodramatic over a cat, but you get the concept of her being part of my family too. And this was a review of my past, not my present or future. ;-)

In Memoriam

2009-08-03T14:22:00.005-06:00

When we first “adopted” you outside of King Soopers Grocery, you and your sister could sit on top of a medium pizza box!

I remember you meeting Akela and telling her who was boss. And not really believing that we needed another dog when we got the puppy.

I liked the expression you had when Akela would hold your head in her mouth—and you had to walk around with crusty hair until you could find a place to clean your fur. I could almost see you roll your eyes.

Although, to be fair, Akela wouldn’t let any other dogs chase you (you were HER cat) and she did save your life once.

I remember our battle over you being an indoor cat. You were so determined that I once accidentally caught your tail in the door as I was carrying in the groceries! :( The vet fixed that though—and even if your tail became one vertebra shorter than normal it looked OK.

You were a radio-active cat once! And you had to stay at the vet for a few days until your levels were “safe”… But it worked and the hyperthyroid issue never bothered us again.

The school bus driver once stopped because you were following Akela and I on our walk. She wanted to know if you followed me on all my walks. You usually did. But when it was time to come home, you would lie down and meow at me to carry you back. I guess that’s fair — your legs were much shorter than either mine or the dog’s...so it was probably like walking a marathon for you.

The neighbor across the street asked if I could keep you inside on their wedding day because you were apparently in the habit of leaving them presents (little mice) on the doormat. And they didn’t want to have to clean that up when they were in their fancy clothes. You used to leave me presents by my truck if I had scolded you for something. You used to leave GW presents by his jeep if he scolded you. I assume the presents on the front door mat were for Akela.

Although there were small squirrels and rabbits in addition to the plethora of mice you left us in your lifetime, probably the most impressive “present” was the hummingbird. And all that without front claws! I used to joke that if you had front claws we’d find the mountain lion on the front doorstep sometime.

You were very snuggly and loved people. The vet always commented on this. And you were a great comfort to me when I broke my wrist (both times) and especially when I moved out.

We had a good run—19 years! I miss you.

Wordle

2009-07-16T14:25:00.003-06:00

I changed the image on my blog to be a word cloud (thanks to some help from http://www.wordle.net/). I love word clouds. This one is based on my blog content.

A couple of things I notice about me:
o I apparently have medium-strong tendency to use both the words "naked" and "nekkid"
o I use "really" more than I thought I did -- but "like" doesn't appear that often (where did the valley-girl talk go?!?)
o I ask for "directions" more than I thought, but then I do spend a lot of time on "Street"s (heehee)

I've always heard that it's interesting what the writing process teaches you about yourself!

San Diego Zoo

2009-07-10T23:06:00.007-06:00

First - if you are staying at a hotel with shared bathrooms, please lock the door when you are using one. Please. Thank you.

Now, on to the day. I can see why the San Diego Zoo is "world renowned". My only complaint was that some of the viewing areas are a bit cramped.

I don't actually have any funny stories, but I'll leave you with a couple pictures.

I think this business is hysterically named...if I lived here, I would definitely be a patron...

Did I mention that our hotel is underneath the landing path for the San Diego airport?

The bridge (Laurel St) across the highway and into Balboa Park.

In Balboa Park, there a water lily garden.

While we were watching one of the polar bears play by the glass, another of the polar bears decided to pounce! There was a tremendous splash and then some wrestling. Very fun to see.

Watch out - they foam at the mouth! And I hear they spit too!

Very cute...

I love otters.

Probably the coolest thing I saw today - I've never seen a real, live koala before. Here's one with her "joey". All the koalas were sleeping. Apparently they sleep about 20 hours per day...I think that's as much as my cat!

I really liked the Elephant Odyssey - it took you through what we can learn about extinct animals based on the descendants living today. I also like the "W" in this picture.

European Accommodations

2009-07-09T23:42:00.007-06:00

...in San Diego! I didn't pay a lot of attention when I booked this trip because it was in the middle of some really busy times at work. So I sorta found something that looked OK and went with it. It said "European Style Hotel"...and I thought "how fun!"

The hotel is nice...but the room is super dinky! It actually reminds me of when I was in Iceland (I guess that's part of Europe). It has small single-sized beds (I would swear they are smaller than twin beds...but maybe I am just a bit bigger than the last time I stayed in a twin bed) and you share a shower and water closet (no bidet though!) with the rest of the floor. (Although, to be fair, in Iceland we had private bathrooms and showers in the rooms.) Luckily the shower is a one-at-a-time deal with a lock on it so I don't have to feel like I'm back in college sharing a floor with 50 of my closet friends whose names I don't know!

Did I mention that it is ALWAYS an adventure of some sort to travel with me? (Luckily this time there were no airport or airplane incidents unless you count the squabbling siblings sitting in the row behind us.)

...you can do that?

2009-07-09T11:48:00.004-06:00

So...recently I saw a young kid texting while riding his bike. I thought he was super talented. I can't do that -- I typically stop to text while riding. Occasionally I'll take a call, but let's face it, I ride so fast that it's hard to hear over the wind.*

A couple of days later, when I was forced to take a new route due to road construction (grrr), I saw this picture on in the bike lane:

I thought this was an amazing talent - certainly one I don't possess. It reminded me of this scene from The Chase (1994) with Charlie Sheen (start around the 3 minute mark).

So I just want to take a minute to give a quick shout out to the person that put the template on backwards on the day that the road repainting happened. I giggled all day. It reminded me of the "not my job" picture.

* not sure if you can get the sarcasm there...I'm not really that fast.

Bar(r)e Nekkid

2009-06-22T21:19:00.002-06:00

I’ve been sorta in denial about this business trip. I booked it late enough that I got yelled at by Corporate for not booking at least 8 days in advance. So after rubbing elbows* on the plane with highly important people, I was even less skeptical about how much fun this trip was going to be. As my final flight is landing I pull out my itinerary again and this time look at the hotel page.

As I mentioned, I booked my travel myself. But other than the flight being into the right city and at times I prefer (given that I have to go at all) I didn’t really pay much attention to picking out the rental car or the hotel. I called the 2 hotels recommended by the client I’m visiting and found out they were booked, so I did a zip code search. But there were no hotels in the zip code my client is in, so I chose one about 10 miles from the office address. At this moment I notice I am staying in the town of Barre.

Barre? Like as in ‘Bare’ without the extra ‘R’? Is it worth examining my feelings to determine how I feel about a business trip to a town named after being nekkid? I am pro-nekkid, for sure, but haven’t I heard that one should “never mix business and pleasure”?

I get to Bar(r)e and take a right, as per my instructions, on what looks to be the only major street. I am feeling pretty good as I see this is N Main Street and my directions also say to find the hotel at 173 S Main Street. I see couples out strolling and eating ice cream cones. I glance at the clock on the car, but it confirms what I already know – it’s almost midnight. Then I wonder what time zone my car is from (since it clearly wasn’t cleaned on the inside – gross, gross, gross – they probably didn’t reset the clock). But my cell phone (which has decided to jump back in with the “in crowd” and auto-update it’s time zone when it changes on) says it’s 11:52pm as well.

Wait, what the? This is Washington Street! I was clearly on N Main Street and I didn’t make a turn. I wonder if I am going north instead of south.

I have no idea since it’s pitch black and I gather there are trees everywhere and no one believes in leaving store signs on or putting street lights on streets here. So I make a U-turn and drive all the way back to where I started and a little further. But that side of N Main Street has a different street name as well. So I stop at a gas station for directions. (Finally! Something open after midnight is this place!) I instantly love the woman cashier purely because she knows where the glorious Days Inn Barre is. Her directions are priceless and I think I love her even more:
- Go back the way you came
- At the statue of the naked man veer right (if you keep going straight you fall off Main Street)
- Go through 3 lights and up a hill
- When you run into a brick wall, turn right – that’s the Days Inn.

Check -– naked guy, uphill, brick wall, motel! How fitting that the town of Bar(r)e has a naked man statue for a landmark. (For the record I saw the statue, but didn’t realize it was nekkid until she pointed it out.)

I find the motel with no issues (really, how could I not with those directions?). But since I’ve had the audacity to arrive after 11pm at night, when clearly all good people are strolling around outside eating ice cream, my room keys are taped to the office door. Holy Moley! In any other place I’ve been I think there’d be either
.....(a) a serial killer in my room
.....(b) a dead body in my room
.....(c) cameras hidden in my room
Or at least
.....(d) a party in my room
by now. I am vaguely amazed to find none of these, but to be honest, I didn’t even check for (c) so if you see nekkid pix of me on the web that’s where they come from.

Today as I was leaving the office, I asked my client, “So how do you say this?” and show them the name of the town.

“Bear-ee.”

As in White? Manilow? Rasp-? That pronunciation never even occurred to me. I am sure this says something embarrassing about my psyche…sigh.

* Why do I never get seated next to women? Why is it that the men I seem to sit next to assume that because their shoulders are broader they have the rights to the armrests? Why did I not remember that I find it creepy when the shirt of the random guy next to me tickles my arm? Why did I not wear long sleeves? Why am I so grumpy?

Memory Rocks but Diamonds Suck

2009-06-11T13:18:00.009-06:00

Iggy and I went stayed a night at The Stanley Hotel last weekend. It's supposedly the inspiration for Stephen King's book The Shining (even though the intro in the book expressly says it isn't) and the indoor hotel scenes from Dumb and Dumber were filmed there. It's a nifty old hotel, and I would recommend staying if you like that sort of thing.

While you're there, if you want to watch the movie version with Jack Nicholson, The Shining plays in a continuous loop on channel 42 (I think). So apparently I am not the first person with the idea of staying there and watching the movie to see if it creeps me out...and made bringing along the portable DVD player superfluous.

We arrived at the hotel just as the last ghost tour was leaving for the day. We had the option (at 5x the price) to go on the nightly ghost hunt, but alas, we had dinner reservations. So we opted for the ghost tour after a leisurely brunch the next morning.

I learned some interesting things:

There are different kinds of hauntings. Residual hauntings are like movies played back and don't interact with you. Interactive hauntings can...well...interact with you.

Ghosts show up as orbs of light on pictures.

Certain rocks or geologic formations are conducive to residual hauntings. Of course, The Stanley sits on 4 of the best rocks for this. And it has no formal foundation to get in the way, so the rocks touch the building giving the building even more ... receptiveness? ... to residual replays.

Certain energy (notably magnetic fields) increase the ability of hauntings to present themselves. This is why when F.O. Stanley built his own generator, the place was double primed to receive paranormal activity.

Lucky for the current owners, The Stanley was a vacation spot. Thus, there are only happy ghosts there because the people who were staying there were rich, happy, and banished the kids to the 4th floor for their entire stay. What better way to relax and party? If I were the current owners, I would blame everything that went wrong on the happy ghosts playing a prank and charge you more for the experience.

You only have cold water? That must be Matilda! She used to do that to the governor when he stayed just to get a rise out of him. I'll check with maintenance, but I bet there's plenty of hot water still for everyone.

You kept hearing knocking on your window? Really?!? Aren't you lucky! That's our most elusive ghost - Hank! He was one of the summer help and he loved to do that on the night of the summer bonfire after all the guests had gone to sleep -- of course he told his ghost story at the bonfire so the guests were subconsciously thinking of ghosts! Isn't that funny -- a ghost of a young lad pretending to be a ghost?

I made up the Matilda and Hank stories, but that rest of that is the truth! If I got some of the other (more serious) details wrong, I apologize; I wasn't taking notes. I was just along for the ride and now can't get the idea of rocks with memories of ghosts out of my head. This made me remember way, way, way back when I was a poor undergrad with no cash and working part-time at a book store. I came across a book that actually said diamonds attract negative feelings. I remember thinking "I knew there was a reason I didn't like diamonds" -- which, if nothing else, sets me apart from 90% of all my female contemporaries. (And 76% of statistics are made up on the spot, right?)

I tried to find that folk lore about diamonds attracting negative energy on the web too. But wouldn't you know that most stuff on the web says that diamonds have good qualities??? But I did find this:

The Hindus believed that a flawed diamond, or one containing specks or spots, was so unlucky that it could even deprive Indra of his highest heaven. The original shape of the stone was also considered of great importance, more especially in early times, when but few, if any, diamonds, were cut. A triangular stone was said to cause quarrels, a square diamond inspired the wearer with vague terrors; a five-cornered stone had the worst effect of all, for it brought death; only the six-cornered diamond was productive of good.

~ The Curious Lore of Precious Stones, George Fredrick Kunz

So at least certain shapes of diamonds are bad luck (be careful when you pick out your engagement ring - no one wants to be deprived of heaven or inherit quarrels, terrors, or gasp! death)! Then I hit pay-dirt on Amazon.com -- this is actually from that book I found back in the early 1990s!

When you hold a diamond, it can feel cold to your touch. This is because of the high thermal conductivity, whereupon it can suck into itself the warmth of your body. It possesses a high psychic energy as well and can easily magnetize into it radiant fields thoughts and actions. Due to this great absorption power, you should clean your diamonds often to rid them of any negative energies that they might have taken in. Soak your diamond for at least an hour in an ionic solution of a teaspoon of salt and a teaspoon of baking soda, dissolved in eight ounces of water. Rinse well. Your diamond will feel better and shine brighter.

~ Stone Power, Dorothee Mella, p.84

But how often do I need to clean my diamonds? I also like the use of big words like "conductivity" and "whereupon" followed closely by the ultra-technical "suck into itself".

Anyways...I want to believe in ghosts and rocks with memory and that certain minerals/gems/items have power to help me through my day. Or that, like Patrick Roy, stepping over the red and blue lines on the ice helps me play better. Really, I do.

~~~~~
I did some other web surfing on the interesting things I heard on the tour. In case you're interested:
o Orbs are just dust spots on your camera lens Personally I am disappointed with that article. While I don't want to be like the fanatical guy on our tour who kept talking about all the ghost tours he'd been on and the strange things he personally had experienced, I like the idea of ghosts being orbs of light. And even better if they show up on pictures that way. (Admittedly, the fanatical guy did make me interested in going on a ghost tour next time I'm in Las Vegas.)
o Stanley Hotel - Ghost Hunters video
o Geology and Ghosts

Hyjacked Lyrics

2009-06-08T12:29:00.002-06:00

I got gnats in my cleavage
what am I gonna do
I'm gonna get those gnats
That's wot I'm gonna do

I LOVE that UB40 song!

~ from an email from Calle that made me laugh out loud

How Many Calories in a Gnat?

2009-06-03T17:22:00.006-06:00

I'm wondering because I think I might've consumed half the Gnat Population in the State of Colorado on my bike ride today. Before you scold me for breathing through my mouth, let me just say I really do try to remember to use my nose. It's just that for, say, 30 years before I figured out that daily prescription allergy medication actually let me breathe like "normal" people I had developed this habit. It's hard to teach an old dog new tricks, I tell you!

I also remembered why I like to zip up my bike jersey to the very tippy-toppy zipper tooth today too. If I had done that, a small colony of the remaining Gnats of Colorado wouldn't have set up residence in that little valley on my upper front torso (you know -- between the ...cough! er, ahem, well, the ta-ta's). You would think I would remember this lesson after last summer's wasp incident.

Let me digress for a moment. Indulge me, please. As much as I like to pretend that I am a tomboy, truthfully I am a girly-girl. I used to have the honor of living with two Alaskan Malamutes. One was quite the mighty huntress. Once she dove through the snow while we were snowshoeing and came up with a live chipmunk/pika/small-moutain-squirrel thing. Another time she came in from the back yard with her very own deceased ground hog (apparently the TOY groundhog I bought her was insufficient for entertainment). Both times I instinctively let out this high-pitched shriek and both times the dog dropped what was in her mouth and looked at me like "what? you don't like what I brought you for dinner?" She was very put out with me and gave me the cold shoulder for a while each time. These aren't the only times it happened, but for some reason I remember those the best.

Back to last summer. I was mountain biking with a friend up Waterton Canyon. He was behind me on the trail as we were descending back to the start/parking lot. I saw a wasp just as it got sucked into that valley I mentioned earlier. Here's how I remember that incident:

Ohmigod! A Wasp!
Maybe it will fly out! No! Oh NO! Oh @#$#$-@*^%$!!! It's stuck in my sportsbra! WHAT IF IT STINGS ME THERE? Ewwww! Get it out!

EEE-ee-EEEEE-E-E-eeeeeeee! All while gently slamming on the brakes because I was aware I was on a gravel patch and I didn't want both a wasp sting and road rash.

After a decent stop where the bike falls to the ground as I leap off and simultaneously rip my jersey off, I start tugging at my sportsbra unconcerned if anyone gets a free show. Luckily before I'm done with this little strip-tease move the wasp manages to fly out before dislodging his stinger. My virtue (if not my dignity) remains intact.

Here's how my friend remembers that incident:

did

oh, so hey, there's this little bug in my shirt.

YIKES! THERE'S SOMETHING WITH A STINGER NEXT TO MY BOOBS!

So, from this I must conclude that only dogs can hear me scream. I knew my voice was high. Remember that I have a job where I work from home? Most people ever only talk to me on the phone. There's usually a point where they figure out that I'm almost 40 and are surprised. I assume this is because I sound younger (and not because I act immature)... But I had no idea that when I revert to that primeval girly reaction it went out of human hearing range.

But wouldn't you think that after that trauma I would remember to zip up my jersey? I'm a slow learner.

And at any rate -- how do I count the gnats in my diet? I am sure they're a delicacy somewhere. Or for iguanas or frogs.

I Bring the Sunshine!

2009-06-01T00:45:00.007-06:00

Over Memorial Day weekend Iggy and I went out to Seattle - our first trip together. It went really well. Thankfully he's a bit like me, or at least he's willing to humor me in terms of travel. I like to have three things when I travel:

plane tickets to/from home/destination
hotel while at destination
(optional) a car -- if you can get by without this, so much for the better, IMHO

So a week of winging it on vacation! I love it!

We did some touristy stuff:

walked around the Space Needle
saw the International Fountain (very cool)
browsed the festival near the fountain and Space Needle -- and subjected ourselves to some odd campaign about "Free Hugs" (some girl won a bet because we both hugged her)
bought salmon at the Pike Market and had it grilled for dinner
rode the Monorail (which required Iggy to sing the Simpson's Monorail song -- I need to see that episode)
went on the Underground tour took a ferry to Bainbrigde Island for brunch

Space Needle

Buying Salmon at Pike Market

International Fountain

And we met up with some friends: (1) an old work colleague of mine who showed us the MicroSoft Visitor's Center (very cool even if you're not an MS Corp fan -- I really want that surface computing technology on my laptop) and her fiance, (2) a friend of Iggy's from college and (3) a friend of Iggy's from high school.

We also went to Unicorn Crepes and had a Chili Cheese Dog Crepe and a Pizza Crepe! Bet you've never had one of those! (They were quite tasty, if a bit messy.)

I could totally live in Seattle. However, it may be an unfair judgement since the 5 days I was there were sunny. In fact, the 10 days I was in NZ were sunny too. The day I left it rained in NZ. And continued raining for 2 weeks. So My new theory is that I bring the sunshine! heehee

Ho(ckey) Shenanigans

2009-05-18T14:55:00.007-06:00

I had a blast playing in the Fireman's Tournament this weekend with the ColoradHos. Here's why:

This group of women is very clever...and the jokes were non-stop this weekend.
For example, for this tournament, the team changes it's name to the Fire Ho's.
Most of the chix have "Ho Names".
When I showed up to the first game, Gung-Ho gave me a hot pink feather boa.
The jerseys we wear say "I put the Ho in Hockey" and are hot pink.
Anytime one of us falls down (and this happens frequently since ice is slick) everyone on our bench yells out "HO DOWN!"
Whenever we scored half of us would yell "Hey!" and the other half would respond back with "Ho!" a couple times. Hey! Ho! Hey! Ho!
Anytime more than one person fell down there were cat calls and comments like "get a room, you Ho!"
Enfeug-Ho wore a Catholic School Uniform over the top of her hockey gear. At period breaks she did some Ice Dancing a la Ice Castles to show off the twirlyness of her pleated skirt.
Apparently there is a tradition what when the Ho's play the Littleton Fire Department team there are shenanigans! (The rest of these pertain to that game.)
We went on the ice to the song Girls Girls Girls - and every song the scorekeeper played during the game had a similar theme...like that song about "save a horse, ride a cowboy"...
Gung-Ho wore devil horns on her helmet while Heidi Ho wore a halo.
The Littleton team lined up before the game and they all took of their hockey jerseys and had on white tank tops underneath where they had written on their own Ho Name! Very clever! They played in those instead of their jerseys.
B-Da-Ho bought us all bras to wear over our jerseys. I had the bright idea of trying to stuff mine with some old hockey socks but apparently my eyes were bigger than the bra because I had trouble keeping the stuffing in my bra while I was skating. But I was very pleased with my front porch! Barnaby-Ho said I should always skate with cleavage because it makes my shot much better. And I think the reason I had several poke checks during the game was that that other team was distracted by my cleavage. B-Da-Ho told me at our next game that seeing me skate by with all my cleavage made her giggle because I appeared to be fascinated with it. I tell you I was just trying to keep it contained!
One of the Littleton players called Pocit-Ho a "little muffin". I don't know why this is amusing, but it just is.
Before we started the game, those of us with feather boas -- or leis -- went out for the first puck-drop. During the line-up we skated up to our opponent and asked their name (my D opponent's name was Doug). After he told me I said, "Well, Doug, it's always nice to know someone's name before you lei them" and wrapped the feather lei around his neck. (Doug mostly just looked perplexed but after a few seconds he sorta laughed.) Cuerv-Ho said it was too bad that Doug's name wasn't Don -- that way I could've called him Don-Ho when lei-ing him. I don't think I am as quick-witted as Cuerv-Ho.
Coach Lance (aka Ho-Ho-Ho with jersey number 25 -- get it? Santa Claus?) put his bra on backwards. He probably had the best boa - a very long, luxurious lilac one. He also had probably the best "lei" line. He told the opposing team's center that "I don't know which team you play for, so this could either be very interesting or very awkward, but what's your name? Well, ???, it's always nice to know someone's name before you give them a lei."
The goalie from the other team skated all the way down so he could score on our goalie (normally goalies can't cross the center line during play because then they would have "illegal equipment").
And at the very end all 30 of the skaters between both teams took the ice and played (talk about a cluster)!!!

I wish there were more pictures - but here's one where you can see us before the first face-off. I'm hidden behind Ho-Ho-Ho at center ice, but you can see Doug-Ho in the red shorts at the far left with my lei.

One other thing that was cool about the Ho's: they stick together. One of the Ho's had an ex boyfriend show up and yell at her between period breaks from the scorekeeper's box. Then he proceeded to wait in the parking lot after the game to continue harassing her. So none of that is cool, but we all sorta made a wall of people around her so he couldn't get to her and we walked her to/from her car. Coach and a couple other guys were on the front line there, while we sorta spirited-away/distracted X-Ho. And pretty soon the guy figured out that he wasn't getting anywhere and left. Cuerv-Ho figures that in 5 years it will be a legend, right? "Hey remember that year when X-Ho had the stalker show up?"

I invited Iggy to this game after hearing there were going to be shenanigans. I wasn't sure about that choice afterwards because it wasn't a real game, but was more of a drop-in: no refs so no penalties and face-offs were the "tap your stick 3x then go for it" type. But Iggy said it was very amusing to watch even if it wasn't a real game. That's good - because it was highly amusing to play in that "game".

Doing Something Bafflingly Crazy

2009-05-15T09:21:00.007-06:00

Mistakes: It could be that the purpose of your life is only to serve as a warning to others. This poster was on my mind this morning. I remember being vaguely offended when a friend gave my ex (the hubby) a tshirt with this on it. He thought it was funny. So I was clearly missing something. Sorta funny because now I think these are hysterical. Part of my deja-vu was about 6 months after my ex started dating his current wife, he IM'ed me in the middle of my work day. Said he has something to tell me, do I have a minute? I knew he was dating and I knew it was serious and I thought the chick was a good match for him, so I was totally expecting the "we're engaged" notice even if that would've been sorta quick (I personally don't believe love has a time-frame, so 6 months, 6 years? Who cares?).

Instead, what he said was that he had come to realize a few things and wanted to apologize for a couple... It was a really, really odd sort of vindication for me. It made me feel simultaneously justified, hollow and not insane (which is not the same as sane). I guess if you chose one word for the moment it would be bittersweet. It was not something I expected or needed. But I did appreciate it.

I was giving Alan 6 months and was sorta expecting the same thing. "You made me realize 'x'...and I'll do that better with the next S.O." However, he's already started that stuff. So I have this theory that I'm like the perfect starter sig-other. After dating me, you get it, and the next woman is "the one". So I thought maybe I could find a funny "Demotivator" about it. This was the closest I could find: Dysfuncation: The only consistent feature of all your dissatisfying relationships is you. True...and hard to argue with...

While I was looking out on despair.com, I found these next two that I also thought were funny and relevant...one because of the rocket scientist reference. Potential: Not everyone gets to be an astronaut when they grow up. We used to joke that because the Cold War was over we just wasted 4+ years on a degree that allowed us to get a stellar job at a fast-food joint.

The other one I like because I think I can embrace the idea of doing something crazy that leaves a total puzzle for future generations. Priorities: Hundreds of years from now, it will not matter what my bank account was, the sort of house I lived in, or the kind of car I drove... But the world may be different because I did something so bafflingly crazy that my ruins become a tourist attraction. I always wonder about the things anthropologists/archeologists say about ruins/historical sites. How do they really know with any degree of certainty? But I do like stories...true or fictional.

Self-inflicted drama

2009-05-14T09:31:00.006-06:00

Sometimes things just work out, you know? I don't know why I'm always surprised.

I had agreed to meet Alan last night for a movie (don't start with the "that's not super-bright, Ms. Rocket Scientist" stuff -- I thought we had the ground rule worked out and I need to get the "karma/whatever-you-want-to-call-it" worked out to neutral here). I figure a movie is safe - not much talking and so I won't cry and it's something we can do to get back to "just hanging out" feeling normal. I go to the movies with lots of friends, right?

I got the time wrong, so we missed the movie. While we were sitting in the parking lot deciding what to do next, a car stopped on the exit ramp from the highway, the flashers came on, and a woman got out and approached us. Her oil light had come on and the car "just stopped". So we drove her to get oil at a nearby gas station. It was interesting...she was very cautious and wouldn't get into the car with Alan at the gas station until I was ready to get in as well. And when we got back to her car there was a male police officer there. She asked me to stay with her for a minute. So I basically stayed until the oil was dispensed and the car started. (Alan stayed in the car.) I can understand her being nervous...but I'm not sure it would've occurred to me to worry about it. Although I would've just called AAA on my cell phone and cut out the random people.

While we were helping her out, Alan and I were joking, trying to lighten her mood. As she leaves, she says to me, "So you know how lucky you are? It's so nice to find someone that makes you laugh!" Oh the irony!

At any rate, Alan and I ended up just talking instead (to reiterate -- not what I wanted). But I am hoping that this will help bring him closure...and gets him to a happy place. It didn't seem like that was happening/helping last night. We had a repeat of all the drama...and you know I cried the whole time. (I seriously think I got defective tear-dispensing-system or I am an emotional over-achiever when it comes to crying. Or I need book like How Not to Cry at the Drop of a Hat For Dummies.)

After all this I'm exhausted and torn. Do I call Iggy and "confess" to this drama and that Alan broke "the rule"? And I feel responsible since I put myself in the situation where it could happen. Do I just deal with my own drama and not involve Iggy? So what do I do? I work for a little while (since I can't very well ride my bike at 10pm...well I guess that's not impossible but it's not appealing to me). I don't really come to any solution but I do end up calling Iggy because I said I would. He only knew that I was going to the movies with a friend. I didn't think to mention the friend's name and I certainly haven't mentioned his significance yet. So while I think Alan and I are clear on where we stand NOW, I'm going to have a lot of explaining to do if I do explain it. And I can't see how any of it is going to sound reasonable and non-sneaky. See why I hate dating? I know I do it to myself...I really have to start working more on the "full disclosure" type of communication. I work with details in my job -- and I do OK there -- why is it so hard to do that in my personal life?

At any rate, Iggy and I talk and the whole thing comes up and miraculously he's not angry. And today I couldn't find my wallet anywhere, so I ended up having to call Alan -- it was in his car. Talking to him was very low-key and the handoff went fine. He even apologized for breaking "the rule" (see? he really is a good guy).

So I learned 2 things (again):

Stressing about it has very little impact on what will happen.
I create all my own drama, really.

I gotta figure out how not to do either of those...

Have you ever had déjà-vu? (Didn't you just ask me that?)

2009-05-12T11:28:00.004-06:00

Drama, Drama, Drama! It drives me bonkers! (And yeah, it deserves the capital-D!)

I was married for 10 years (and we were together a total of 15). When we divorced when I was 34, it was practically half my life. The only people that had known me longer were my mom/dad/brother and Becca (a friend from Jr. High). So I couldn't imagine my life in the total and complete absence of my ex...even though I was completely willing to move onto the next chapter. For those of you that don't know me, we are still friends -- for instance he called me the other day to see if I could dog-sit and during that conversation I asked for advice on my 18-year-old cat whom he'd lived with as well for a dozen years.

But my drama with him is over. It's all just calm, once-in-a-while chats or we show up at the same hockey drop-in or a mutual friend's party. Whatever. It's all good.

Today's drama is with a guy I dated off and on for a few years ... longer than I care to admit. (Let's call him Alan.) So it's like a bit of deja vu from all my other dating experiences. In this case, it's been basically over since he stood me up for a planned ski trip in November. There were a few conversations after that...but they amounted to nothing changing. So we gradually stopped talking at all.

In the last month or so I've started seeing someone I'm really interested in. Let's call him Iggy (heehee - I crack myself up - he took a Facebook quiz that said his punk rock alter ego was Iggy Pop).

Then, mysteriously, in about the same timeframe Alan starts texting, IM'ing, calling. I checked my text messages. His last text before that was 3/3 regarding a hockey drop-in that we attend and he wasn't going that night. Coincidentally I've been busy (NZ, then 3 hockey tournaments in 3 weekends - woo hoo - life is fun!!!) and didn't really get back to him. Monday I told him that I was dating someone else and I'd still be willing to hang out as friends, but he had to understand the ground rule first (ie; I won't date you so don't try to convince me). And since then it's been all Drama, Drama, Drama. With flash-backs and deja vu to my divorce and the other break ups I would label significant in my life. He's telling me about people he might date (go for it - that makes me less nervous about you trying to break the ground rule), we're having conversations about why it went wrong (which is ultimately good for me, right? I get some closure, right? right?!?!), and he's saying all those wonderful things that used to make me happy (but now just give me a headache and make me cry -- although I cry at cartoons too, so that might not be a good measurement).

So, is it worth it to try an be friends?

Does anyone else worry that if they don't try to get back to some sort of harmonious spot (friendship or measured tolerance or something) that their ex will turn into an Ax Murderer and they'll be a sad story on the 9 o'clock news? Actually, I'm actually not worried about violence from any of my exes...it's more that I can't stand conflict in any form (even sitcoms and reality shows make me tense sometimes) so I must get back to a point where we don't all cringe when the other person walk through the door.

How does one break up without all the drama?

I guess the answer is "don't date anyone". And at times I think I could almost do that. Frankly, there's so much about dating that I dislike. And I don't think I've gotten any better at it as an adult. Which completely disappoints me. I always figured those high-drama situations from high school were because I was young and new to dating. But in the end I really like the connection with another person...that can be a really cool thing. So I guess I'm stuck with dating. I hope I'm not in some sort of doomed Groundhog-Day-esque loop until I figure it out and get good at dating. (The quote in the title is from that movie.)

I remember a saying from my Brazilian friend, Rico: Is it all OK? No? Then it's not the end -- because it's all OK in the end.

I think I'll go ride my bike and get my head back on straight hopefully.

Lyric Hat Trick

2009-05-04T17:27:00.005-06:00

The other day I posted on my facebook status:

...is looking for a hat trick:

...you bleed just to know you're alive - Goo Goo Dolls/Iris
...I wanna sunburn, just to know that I'm alive - Thriving Ivory/Angels on the Moon
...? anyone? Bueller?

There was a third song about hurting and knowing you were alive that I knew vaguely but couldn't think of.

One thoughtful soul wrote back with an uplifting song about how it's really all OK (Al Green - Everything's Gonna Be Alright). Apparently he was worried I was depressed. I'm not. I swear. Neither of those songs make me sad. I love the sound of both of them and in particular I find those lines poetic. The person singing/writing the song might be sad...I don't presume to know, I guess.

The Goo Goo Dolls song has a couple of other cool lyrics:

You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be

And all I can taste is this moment, And all I can breathe is your life

I just want you to know who I am

Now, the movie it's from (City of Angels) I find to be a tear-jerker. But not overly depressing.

I don't recall where I came across the band Thriving Ivory and their self-title album. But it's that and the new Chris Cornell album (Scream) that seem to be getting the play-time on my iPod. Angels on the Moon has a few other lyrics I like, including part of the chorus:

Don't wake me cause I'm dreaming, of angels on the moon

Where everyone you know, never leaves too soon

a part that sounds like a shout out to the 9/11 heroes to me:

This is to one last day in the shadows
And to know a brother's love
This is to New York City angels
And the rivers of our blood

At any rate, I like those songs and was looking for a third one -- because you know the world revolves around hat tricks right? (Maybe I should change the name of my blog to "Chasing Hat Tricks"...)

So today I gave up and did it the "old-fashioned" way: I Googled it. (Can you taste the irony there? Old-fashioned? Google? Ok, nevermind.)

Here's the most popular result:

I know your pain is for a reason,

You need to feel just to know that you're alive

- Kutless/To Know That You're Alive

Not bad, I guess. The sound of the song is OK. Probably the true hat trick for my lyric collection in this case.

Just overall not exactly what I had in the back of my mind. By the way, I heard the song I was trying to think of over the weekend while driving home from a hockey game. I tried to remember it all the way home, but forgot it. Yeah, my short term memory leaves something to be desired, and I couldn't remember the song's title or who was singing it. It had the phrase "dirt" in it. I just knew it did. But when I Googled "dirt lyrics" it came back with dirty lyrics. Hmmm...different topic, really. Eventually I got my search refined enough that I got the song I wanted. I love the internet! I was originally introduced to this song on an album of covers done by Johnny Cash - yep the Man in Black, himself. Covering other people's work! So here you go - the song I was looking for for my hat trick:

I hurt myself today
To see if I still feel
I focus on the pain
The only thing that's real

- Nine Inch Nails/Hurt

...which has the other cool lyric You could have it all, My empire of dirt. This song I do think is a little sad. So maybe it's not really a hat trick. What do you think?

Back in the USA

2009-04-27T12:58:00.006-06:00

(please hum "Born in the USA" while reading the title of this blog posting...thanks)

After 23 hours of travel back to the USA, I am safely back home! Yay!

On the way to the airport:

Apparently, when it's frosty outside it will cause the axle on one set of your tires to repolarize randomly while driving. Otherwise, I am unsure how you create those skid marks.

At the Auckland airport I had a 3 hour layover. The highlight was probably a young boy leaving the toy area with a new whoopie cushion. He'd run 3 or 4 paces ahead of his dad and the throw it down on the floor and sit on it. If the noise wasn't quite right he'd bounce up and down until satisfied. (Repeat from "run 3 or 4 paces" ad nasuem.) The pure joy on his face was pretty cute. And apparently Kiwis don't get mad at children making noise in public places.

I also liked this wastebasket at the Auckland airport:

So...is there a lot of spitting at the airport? And it happens in the walkways? Are Spitters (I use a capital letter here because I think they probably deserve a formal group) willing to walk all the way to the bathrooms to spit at the toilets?

I'm glad to be back. Didn't enjoy the return trip as much as the trip out there...probably because I wasn't really ready to be done with vacation. I'm happy to be in my house, slogging through my work emails... It's good to see my cat again. It was nice to reconnect with Becca and S. But I do miss Calle already!

Last Day in NZ

2009-04-25T01:47:00.005-06:00

Calle and I went to Martinborough last night and stayed in this really fabulous hotel. Today we went down to the coast to hike. We saw rock formations called "The Pinnacles". Then we went to a local winery that one Calle's friends really likes ("TK") for a little wine tasting. It's been a fabulous trip...but I'm a little sad to leave Calle and NZ behind.

Who has drawers in the kitchen this organized?
Calle relaxing with the wine from our winery visit. ;-)

The Pinnacles

The parking lot for the hiking trail...

The drive after the hike...

Beach - black sand!

Funnies quote of the day? "It's bush cleavage!" Calle pulled in a little far to our parking spot and the shrubbery outside our hotel room was crammed into the front of the car. heehee!

Wandering around Wellington

2009-04-22T19:49:00.005-06:00

I spent Wednesday and half of today (Thursday) exploring the downtown area of Wellington. Yesterday I did some shopping - mostly book stores since I can never resist a book store. Today I've been to the Wellington Museum (has history on this city and bay specifically), Olympic Museum (New Zealand was involved in reviving the Olympics!) and Te Papa (to see the colossal squid that was pulled out of the ocean on a fishing trip near Antarctica a few years ago). I'll leave you with a random assortment of what I saw around town.
Interesting apartment building...
The "beehive" is an interesting (and somewhat controversial) piece of architecture. It's part of the government buildings and apparently some object to having such an odd/non-traditional building for an official building. I can't really get a feel for the architecture here, though. It's very eclectic.
Even the office buildings are interesting. You can also see all the wires from the trains.
Close-up of the orb...I forget the story on it (sorry).
This is a courtyard down by the bay with near the library. There were lots of interesting statues in the vicinity.
I love this quote - the headquarters of the verb!
There are lots of signs around town that are funny to me. These were a couple. The one on the right was on a billboard outside a Prebyterian Church.
Even if I have no idea what this says, I like it. The plaque by the statue simply said "Spinning Top" and listed the artist/year/medium. It was in a little courtyard-type mall between two high-rise buildings that sloped downhill to the main street. Note the cyclist - it seems like lots of people commute by walking or cycling here. Cycling looks fun (lots of steep hills) but there are virtually no shoulders and I have yet to see a bike lane. Keep in mind that they drive on the "other side" of the road here too -- I'm still learning which way to look for cars (and here's where that kindergarten advice of "look both ways before crossing" comes in handy).
Cute statue in another little courtyard mall.
Wire sculpture outside of Te Papa Museum.

Land Ho!

2009-04-21T16:41:00.005-06:00

On Sunday morning we got up bright and early to catch the ferry from the north Island (and the city of Wellington) to the south island (landing in the city of Picton). It's a 3-hour ride across Cook Strait, so the ferry shows movies in transit. The movie was The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, but we didn't watch and instead opted for a bit of time on the deck as we pushed out into the harbor and then breakfast.

It was an uneventful trip to Picton, the highlight of which might've been tryingto figure out the older gentleman that seemed to be video-taping the cafeteria on his digital point-n-shoot camera. I offered for Calle to make a diversion (see how nice I am? Calle gets to do the fun part!) while I snatched his briefcase to see what we could learn from that. In the end none of us were motivated enough to care.

After a brief stop at the grocery for food/beverages for the boat, we caught a taxi to the port in Waikawa where we were renting the yacht ZigZag. After some paperwork and an orientation to the boat we were on our way (about 2pm local time) for a sailing adventure in Queen Charlotte Sound!
ZigZag
Calle Sailing!

Sunday was a beautiful day -- but this was bad! It meant there was no wind! Sailing is more challenging without wind. We were able to do a little bit and I got to observe all the 18 billion ropes that go into operating the various sails and whatnot on a yacht. I also got to observe the tiller operation...I learned that the easiest way for me to remember it (when I don't have time to run through the fluid dynamics of force pushing on a rudder at this angle will move the nose opposite of the handle) is that I need to point the handle where I want the "butt" of the boat to go. I learned a few words to add to my vocabulary from scuba diving (that vocab is bow, stern, port, starboard):

vang (some rope-y thing on the bottom of the main sail -- no idea what it does, but I like the word)

tiller (steering device/lever)

tell-tales (little pieces of yarn on the sail that tell you if the wind is hitting it right by how they move)

tack (a zig-zag basically where you shift the front sail from one side of the boat to the other because the wind shifted)

mainsail (the big sail that's on the mast and the one with the boom that shifts and you constantly conk your head on)

jib (the smaller sail in the front that is the one you shift in a tack)

We had to motor most of Sunday due to the lack of wind, but (like I might've said) it was a great, low-key learning day for me. We moored in Camp Bay (Endeavor Inlet) for the night.

Monday was a bit different. We had a southeasterly belowing in making lots of whitecaps on the water. We had lots of wind for sailing, but we also had a bit of drama and had to harness ourselves onto the boat because of the unpredictability of the wind/water (and my lack of experience). Even though we'd practiced the man-overboard drill on Sunday, we didn't have to use it (I stayed on the boat, thank you very much). We sailed until about lunchtime and then found a little cove to tie up to a dock in. We were waiting for the storm to finish, but it never did, so we stayed tied up there all night. My advice to you is to remember a deck of cards when you go sailing. Calle and Mal are great people and fascinatingly entertaining but I wanted to do something other that talk! I can't remember the name of the bay we stopped in, but my best guess is one just west of Blumine Island.

Tuesday was perfect! Calle and I started the day with a dip in the bay - talk about taking your breath away. I was in and out of the water so fast I am not even sure I got wet. C-O-L-D water!!! We had nice amounts of wind for sailing and instead of just watching, I actually tried helping on the tacks and I got to steer for a while! Fabulous! Not sure I need another expensive hobby but I might look for sailing lessons when I get back to Colorado this summer. We saw some penguins swimming around while we were sailing - pretty cool!
Calle and Mal preparing to sail
Penguins! Pitt Rehab - it's a sign that I saw Penguins sailing - the Pens are going to do well in the playoffs!
For Rico - we are fabulous!

We were back in the marina by noonish and took a taxi to the 2pm ferry back to Wellington. We saw dolphins jumping in the waves during this ferry crossing. Calle and I have divine take-out Indian food (after I had an even more divine shower) and watched some TV before calling it a night.

Kiwi Hat Trick!

2009-04-21T16:21:00.006-06:00

In the Auckland airport, I logged onto the internet, sent a couple work emails related to the work I did on the flight from Denver to LA, and then truly closed off the work part of my life for the next 9 days.

I took a couple pictures from the plane as we were landing in Wellington. After we dropped my stuff at Calle's place, I took a quick shower (so there *was* a shower in my near future) and then we headed out for the day. Calle's goal was to keep me up until 7 or 8 pm. We walked downtown by the bay. We had a cup of coffee by the bay, did some people watching and checked out the yachts. (Actually the coffee was a "flat white" – similar to a latte, but apparently with lots more foam. There's also a latte on the menu, so I have to figure out how those are different later.)
First Sighting of Wellington!
Cannot wait to be there!

Then we headed out to the Wellington Zoo. The "Zoo keeper says" signs there cracked me up. My favorite animals were probably the Sun Bears.
Zookeeper Says (like Simon Says?) Check out the "x" on the giraffe's eyes.
Sun Bear
Chimps with a view of Wellinton (and a rugby game)

But the most important thing is: WE SAW A KIWI! So I got my hat trick already!

I met Calle's neighbors (Kiwi person).

We went to the Wellington Zoo and saw the Kiwi birds (they're nocturnal! So I couldn't get a picture.)

On the way home we stopped at the local market for some Kiwi fruit.

Tonight we went back up to Calle's neighbors and watched a rugby match on TV while barbequing on the huge grill they have. The match was between a South African team and the Wellington Hurricanes. The 'Canes won! I gather this is an unusual event. I don't really understand rugby, but Calle's neighbors did their best to explain what was happening to me. The problem is they kept comparing it to "American Football". I see some similarities, but I'm also not the biggest NFL fan. There's a lot of lateral passing in rugby. And apparently you have to slide into the end zone for the goal to count.

At any rate, it's like 9pm here now. So we’ve made Calle’s goal of keeping me up until a reasonable bedtime...and I did get up at 2:30am local time...so it's not quite 20 hours of awake time, but I am tired. We have to get up early tomorrow to catch the ferry to the south island and go on the sailing adventure.

I'll leave you with this picture I took on our walk around Wellington.
Pretty!

Travel Adventures - Safely in NZ!

2009-04-17T12:32:00.001-06:00

I started today...or I woke up Thursday to blizzard warnings in Denver. I was concerned that I wouldn’t be able to fly out of Denver. It rained all morning, but by 3pm when I was leaving to meet my friend Becca to drop me off at the airport it was just overcast. We made it to the airport and I made it down to the gate with no issues. Then the downpour opened up. Flights were delayed into Denver and our plane had to wait for a crew arriving on another flight. I started to get worried that sure, I’d get out of Denver, but I would miss my connection in Los Angeles. I really wanted to be on that flight since I’m not sure how many flights per day there are to New Zealand. Finally the crew arrived – along with my seat-mate: a very loud, smelly woman who spoke only some Asian language. Her partner sat in the window seat directly behind her. The shouted at each other during the entire flight, passed food back and forth (bread, bananas, pretzels, hard boiled eggs). When she decided she wanted to go to the ladies’ room, she said something to me, motioned with her hands. As soon as I closed my laptop and put up my tray she stepped over me! The lady on the aisle was standing up to let us out so this petite woman stood with her fanny in my face for a good 3 or 4 seconds. … We made it to LA in time for me to make my connection. All’s well that ends well, right?

LA to Auckland
The flight from LA to Auckland was much better. The only creepy part was at the terminal in LA. I had to walk down these long white tunnels with electronic airlocks at points in order to get from terminal 6 to terminal 4. There was absolutely no one else in there. I was 110% sure I was in the wrong place or breaking some law and probably going to get caught between airlocks. At one point there was an odd sound behind me. It turned out to be a cop that zipped by me on one of those power-wheely-things…what’s the word for those? The next airlock was actually closed, so I had to go up the stairs and continue above ground. If I’d know you could walk above ground at the beginning I would’ve totally done that.

I had the aisle seat on my flight to New Zealand and the 2 women sharing my row were quite nice and at no point straddled me with the derrieres prominently displayed. I liked the head stewards phrase “If you’re not heading for Auckland, please kindly depart the aircraft.” No other instructions…no admonition…just “kindly” depart. He didn’t even say you had to use the front door…just depart the aircraft somehow.

There was quite a bit of turbulence on the flight, but this was oddly comforting while I was sleeping. Thanks to some Advil PM I probably slept a whole 8 hours of the 12.5 we were on the plane. That’s probably the first 8-hour night I’ve had in a month. The only down side was the 6-foot+ man behind me who liked to stretch out and in the process kept kicking the back of my ankles. Footsies at several thousand feet, anyone?

In New Zealand!
Here in Auckland – it’s now Saturday morning – I had to go through customs. The only hitch there is that I don’t know Calle’s address and I don’t have hotel reservations. So they wanted to see my departure tickets. And could I take off my hat? Apparently I look suspicious. Then, after re-checking my luggage, I had to walk to the other terminal (why can’t I just have a layover that doesn’t involve switching terminals?). To do this you follow the blue and white line between a chain-link fence topped with barbed-wire and some trailer offices bordered by hedges. At 4:30am. In the dark. Smelling jet fuel. Why did that not feel creepy, but the long white tunnel caused my stress levels to rise?

Good news – one last flight and I’m there! Despite the odd schedule and long travel, I’m feeling pretty good and getting excited to be there and TO NOT WORK FOR A WEEK!

April is Poetry Month

2009-04-03T11:23:00.003-06:00

Here's my current favorite from a book I'm reading:

My Dream
Fly between my clouds
Listen to my silent harmony
Drown in my distant oceans
Immerse in my salty sea

Inhale my delicious roses
Experience my spiced tea
Touch my inflamed tears
Hug my wisdom tree

Then

When you wake up
From my living dream
Pass me a not and tell me
What you have seen?

from the book (p.6) Poetry Eyes by Amal Saleh

Landlubbing Wench No More!

2009-04-02T21:29:00.006-06:00

Guess what!?! Calle's friend is going to take us sailing when I get to New Zealand (in less than 3 weeks)! Calle's going to fly me to the port too - so I get to go in a big old jet airliner, then a crop duster (ok not really, but a small plane) and then on a yacht! And that's all before I've even been in the country for 24 hours!

Calle's friend said I need "Wet weather jacket with hood and some cheap waterproof overtrousers will do. Sailing boots if you really want to stay snug in the dirtiest of weather but drag them around behind the car for a while first. You know how it is..." Do you think they have waterproof overtrousers at REI? I am going to find out this weekend. I'm just not sure what they are...it will be like a treasure hunt!

I hope I don't get seasick. And I hope I'm not too jet-lagged to be awake for it. I literally will go from the airport to the dock.

Oh boy! I can't wait! Now if I could only finish all my work projects so I can actually have vacation while I'm sailing around! I had one of my 3 clients go live on 3/20. On Monday they will be handed off to the support team. The 2nd client went live on April Fool's Day and we're working out the kinks there. They'll be handed off to support next Friday. The last client delayed until mid-May :( and is thinking about another delay (will find out tomorrow). I start two new projects on June 1st - so there's not too much room there... We'll see.

Now off to study up on that class I found out I have to teach on Monday - gah! Nothing like teaching something you haven't tried to do yourself...at least I only talk for an hour and there's already Power Point slides on the work intranet.

Good night y'all.

Is it time?

2009-03-23T23:34:00.004-06:00

I work from home and my cat, Ariel, sits on my lap most of the day. Friday she would not leave the spot on her chin alone - kept incessantly scratching it. She had a cancerous lump removed from there when she was about 14 or 15. At that time the vet told me to take her to chemo. I balked - I have no idea what 14 "cat years" are equivalent to in human years - but I wasn't sure she'd survive cancer treatment. And how happy could she possibly be? Besides being sick and getting hairballs from her fur as it falls out, she hates car rides and it would've been weekly car rides for a couple months. Ariel will be 19 sometime this summer (in retrospect, I probably should've done the treatment) ... and that lump is back again. I'm also noticing that she's getting sorta skinny despite the premium food and canned chicken.

Ariel's had a pretty good run, I suppose. She's an excellent mouser - even without claws - and has left me "treats" by the front door in every place we've lived. She used to go on walks with me and the dogs (although she would want to be carried back instead of walking back). She purrs so loud that sometimes on conference calls people ask me what the background noise/feedback is on my phone. She's mostly deaf now, so she scares the bejeebers out of me once in a while - she meows loud enough to hear herself and in the middle of the night it's somewhat unexpected.

My ex called this weekend to see if I could dogsit one of the dogs that we used to "own" together. I declined because Ariel is totally over dogs ;-) and I told him I couldn't make up my mind what to do about "the final visit". It was an interesting conversation because he we were dating when I got her outside the local grocery store and because he lived with Ariel as well for 13 of the years we were living together/married. It was sorta nice to talk through it with someone that knows Ariel...and someone that I've had to make this decision with before.

At any rate, Ariel seems to be doing better today - she tried to eat the flowers on my desk and she was grumpy when I snoozed the alarm because it meant a delay in the presentation of her breakfast. But I still wish she could speak English so I could figure out if she's uncomfortable.

My favorite Ariel picture - her showing the new puppy who is the boss. She's probably 2ish here.

2009-03-19T15:57:00.004-06:00

I promise this will be the last of my historical posts for a while. I'll find some inspiration somewhere soon, I swear!

Triumph!- July 2, 2007
This morning I went for a run (yay - luggage means I have running shoes again!). I tried to run by the Siene River, but this section of town (the suburbs) it doesn't have foot paths everywhere. I did OK, but tomorrow I may either do a short run in the park (I think it might be like 8 minutes around, so I could probably do about 4 or 5 before getting really bored). The news here is that without Rico (he is at work today) I found my way back to the apartment!

I had a small work project to do, but to accomplish that I had to travel across Paris to a tech section and find a computer store. My computer charger was not in my luggage. :( A computer battery is an odd souvenir, but I am happy because I can download my pictures and read my email. :) The news here is that I only made one little mistake -- exiting the metro instead of changing trains -- to get to the store. Then I actually found my way home AGAIN! Dang, am I good!

But that is getting ahead of myself. So last night Rico and I surfed dell.fr (the French version of the Dell computer web site) and found out what a computer charger was in French. I carefully copied down the entire description because I had no idea which words were the important ones. Then Rico showed me what Metro station to get off and where to switch trains. Today I got off the metro at the stop Rico told me about. I could see a row of computer stores just off to the left. So I went in the first one and tried reading my list. The lady (who I swear was speaking an Asian language) had no idea what I said, so I showed her my paper. This caused a conference with another person behind the desk. Then she handed the paper back and started talking to the man next to me. After being ignored for a couple minutes I figured that meant she didn’t have what I wanted. So I left. Went to the store next door. Same scenario. So after they ignored me at this store, I stepped out on the street and sorta looked around to decide on a different course of action, or if maybe I didn’t really need to use my computer anymore until mid-July when I was back State-side. A man who’d been in the store came out and said to me in English, “Do you know SUE-cf? They will have what you want.”

I am wondering how you spell “SUE-cf” (as I heard it) and if you trust some random guy who says, “take a left at the second street and there it is.” How does he know what I want when so far no one has understood the words I copied off the web? Heck, I don’t even know what I want in French.

At any rate, I say “merci” and decide that as long as I am wondering around I can wander 2 more blocks. It turns out that he doesn’t count every street as a street. Only streets with stoplights count as streets. So, 5 blocks (if you count all the paved areas with painted lanes where cars can drive) later I see a sign in circus letters saying “Surcouf”. Ah.

It’s like a 2-story Best Buy with more stuff. Apparently Dell is not a brand used much in France. So I have to wait in a special line for the portable computer peripherals guy (I forgot the French words for that - my ability to understand French is back but the ability to speak it still escapes me). I show him my paper and he answers me in English that he has my part. I almost cry. Literally. I had no idea I was so invested in this process. He tells me something else that I don’t understand. When I cock my head to the side like a dog and knit my eyebrows, the guy in line behind me says “he says you can use it in the UK as well”. Well, bonus! I will have to go to the UK next time. Should I be happy to not be pegged as an American tourist or irritated to be thought British?

That night I listen to Rico tell the story to his friends over dinner. He says he told me how to get to Chinatown (the Asian language is now making more sense) and that was all. He seemed amazed that I made it there, found a store with my battery and made it back. In fact, when he called me to see if I was lost (I set up my cell phone to work in France for such emergencies), I was already back at his house working. He seemed so surprised! Ha! His friends gave him a hard time for being so vague with me - like they thought he was being mean!

“Every Day” does not include Tuesdays - July 3, 2007
Today was a lazy day -- I slept in until 11am. Yay! Then I cleaned the kitchen from last night's dinner and showered. Then I was off for my first complete day of being a tourist!

I went to the L'Opera Garnier -- where the story of the Phantom of the Opera takes place. It was VERY, VERY cool. I would love to go to an opera there someday. You can totally see the grand staircase from the book and the thousands of "candle" lights (electric now), the mirrors on all the walls, and all the places to slip into to hide... I didn't get to see the actual theater since it was closed for a rehersal today. But I actually decided that was best -- then I can wait for that until I can see the play too.

After that I wandered over to the Musee de L'Orangerie -- supposedly a lot of impressionist works in there. I went there via the Louvre gardens. I really like the glass pyramid things and that courtyard in front of the Louvre. I knew the Lourvre was closed on Tuesdays, so I was just planning to see the outside. I didn't realize that the Orangerie was also closed on Tuesdays. The sign outside said "open every day until 7pm and Wednesdays to 9pm" -- if my French is holding up. The French woman behind me in line was irritated as well to find out that "every day" does not include Tuesdays. At least it wasn't just me.

So from there I went to the Musee D'Orsay on the other side of the Siene -- which also has a lot of impressionist paintings. It is actually open on Tuesdays. Apparently the rest of Paris knew that as well. I got there at about 3pm. It took me a few minutes to figure out that the crowd in the museum square was actually a line to get into the roped off lines which, in turn, lead you into the museum so you can get in line to pay. Dang! I waited in that line for 1 hour to get to the door of the museum -- and the right to get into the line where you can purchase tickets. It rained -- at one point it POURED -- so I bought an umbrella from a street vendor for 5 Euro -- like $7.50. It was worth it. And now I can add to my collection of umbrellas purchased from street vendors -- I have one from New York City (Times Square -- when I went for an evening on my Mahwah, New Jersey trip a few years ago for work), and one from Rome (when JJ and I were wondering around over Thanksgiving in 2005). I finished my book club novel while I was waiting in line -- some of it takes place in Paris, so that was cool. When I was next in line to actually buy a ticket, the ladies in front of me took sooooooo long that the entire line next to me emptied out and filled again. The couple behind me was American too, so I could understand their conversation. I seriously thought the guy was going to go take matters into his own hands -- he was getting so frustrated. Like it was worth a scene to see a bunch of old paintings by guys that didn't color within the lines! At any rate, we did finally get into the museum. I saw some really famous stuff -- Van Gogh's Starry Night, a couple of Monet's Water Lilies, the Renoir of the party picture, etc. The building is a converted train museum. I love the building...

After that, I braved the museum bookstore for some postcards (yikes -- can you say 100 smelly people in a place that holds 40 by American standards).

The off for a walk along the Siene...I ended up by Notre Dame -- so I went in for a quick look around. There was a service in progress, but still a lot of tourists wandering around. I tried to be discreet (no flash, quiet, etc.) but I think it would be annoying to be at a service and have people walking around and talking. (Although those big halls eat up the noise except for the speaker and the choir).

I got back to the apartment to Rico playing the guitar! Very nice. Dinner was the gnocci from the market... JJ, I would say it's more flour, less potato, than the ones in Italy.

Tomorrow -- the Louvre!!! Not sure what else. Then Thursday through Saturday I can finally use my French from high school -- Rico and I are going to visit the Mediterranean coast of France with his days off! Je vais a la plage!!!

Pick-up Lines & Cute Dresses

2009-03-18T23:20:00.009-06:00

Pick-up Lines - June 28, 2007 (note: Having not been inspired to write lately, but going through some old travel diaries as inspiration for my NZ trip in April, I found my Paris trip emails to my folks/brother...thought a couple were funny.)

I made it to Paris!

My luggage didn't. And I forgot that rule about packing a change of clothes in your carry-on... Air France said maybe in 2 days I will get my luggage. If not, I can fill out the claim form. Sigh.

So after seeing my friend, Rico, through the glass windows as I arrive at the luggage carosel I spend close to an hour waiting for my luggage, watching everyone else find theirs before wearily leaving without knowing how lucky they are, and then filling out forms.

Poor Rico has been standing outside the secured area this whole time. As I finally reach him, and get a big hug I sigh and say, "Thank you so much for waiting through all that. Let's go buy some underwear." Which I meant in all honesty since I didn't pack my carryon with that type of provision. The expression on his face lets me know I said something funny, so I think about it and realize this may not be how every woman greets her male friends after a flight. ha!

I wanted souvenirs...but not sure I wanted clothes. But...The adventure begins!

The Knight Says “Shhhhh!” … & a REALLY Cute Dress - June 29, 2007

Hello again. 2 am in Paris. But when you sleep in until 11am, then nap from 7pm-11pm, feels ok to still be awake! :)

JJ, to answer your question...I know some French, but it's not as easy here as it was in Switzerland. Not sure why. I tried reading some of Rico's French novel, but it took like 30 mintues to get through 1 page. And it just wasn't that interesting...

Rico had today off, so we went to Le Petit Palais -- which is across the street from Le Grand Palais, which I think we saw on our trip. It's on the Champs Elysee and has square trees lining the boulevard. At any rate, the Petit Palais is FREE! And has lots of art and a coffee shop. We saw a cool huge painting called something like "The Death of Count ..." It is about 35 feet long! Lots of people (~300) -- different knights, commoners, the king?, weeping maidens, and, of course, the dead guy. One knight is telling the others "shhhh". Very funny -- some guy in armor with his finger to his lips. How can you be quiet in chain mail? Apparently someone else was noisier though. Then we had a café a the museum coffee shop.

No luggage yet today. They said 2 days. And in my sleep-deprived state I forgot to ask if the 2nd day was Saturday or Monday (do they include weekends?). At any rate, I think I have enough clothes now. I went to The Gap in the shopping district (Grand Boulevard) -- figure at least I know what size I am in there. I mean, it took me a while to figure out that my bra size here is 95. (Dang! In the States I am only a 36. Here I am HUGE! I love the French!) I wasn't sure I wanted to know my French/EU pants size (in case there is some sort of similar explosion at my waist)!!!

I also went to the popular tourist shopping building (Gallerie Lafayette) to see if I could find a dress for a nicer dinner out. I did find a lovely one and it was 50% off! It was 950 Euros -- almost $1300... Yes, this is the sale price! I'm not even sure that means I have good taste -- it was probably last year's model that didn't sell. I didn't buy it (in case you were really wondering).

Tomorrow there is a jazz concert in the evening at some tech park and I don't have to shop anymore. I am going to wear my 3 pairs of pants and my size 95 bras over and over and over! I am sick of shopping already!

Bon soir.

Live Out Loud

2009-03-16T01:11:00.010-06:00

Calle sent me this card for my birthday. I love the colors and the message. I also want to say, Calle, that I don't really understand the the big font/little font thing, but I'm prepared to embrace it!

PS - Can't wait to see you again in New Zealand! Soon!

Attack of the Viscous Floor Lamp

2009-03-13T01:21:00.006-06:00

Usually our dog, Akela, jumps up on the bed after we stop reading and turn out the lights. She'll nose her way in between us to lie down.

2 people and 1 dog fit on the bed.

After our cat, Ariel, is sure that the dogs are asleep she will come in and lay down next to my arm on the non-Akela side.

2 people, 1 cat and 1 dog fit on the bed.

Our other dog, Tasha, likes to sleep on her mat at the foot of the bed. So as long as we all lay relatively still this configuration works. If you move too much the animals will let you know that this is unacceptable verbally.

Around 3 AM, Tasha must’ve had an active dream chasing a big rabbit. She knocked over the floor lamp that is in the vicinity of her mat, scared herself silly and went running around. The ruckus woke me up, so I turned on the overhead light and it was pretty obvious (even at 3 AM) that I just needed to stand the lamp up. During my 10 seconds out of bed, Tasha had come back into the room and firmly lodged herself into my spot on the bed. Apparently, as a dog, after you have been through a life or death struggle with a floor lamp, you’re not willing to budge from your spot on the bed. All my coaxing only got her to move over a little bit -- Tasha would have nothing to do with her mat. I tried artfully arranging myself between the various animals, but since Akela didn't want to be next to Tasha, she kept nosing me over to the edge of the bed, which left Ariel less room than she liked. If it had not been 3 AM, I might've been able to come up with a logical solution, but as it was I found out that:

2 people, 2 dogs and 1 cat do not fit on the bed.

At least the cat was willing to make the sacrifice and sleep elsewhere so I didn't have to sleep on the couch.

This is from an old letter I found today. I had written it to my mom back in the days when I was married, but when we were down from 2 cats/2 dogs to just 1 cat/2 dogs -- so probably around summer/fall 2003. Thought it was vaguely funny and since I haven't been too inspired to writing anything, thought I'd post it.

Hoping for a Hat Trick

2009-03-06T00:06:00.002-07:00

I asked Calle if it might be possible to have a "hat trick" day while in New Zealand:

talk to a Kiwi (person)
see a Kiwi (bird)
eat a Kiwi (fruit)

She said, "I might have to send you to the zoo...and the fruit may not be in season, but we'll see what we can do." ;-)

Calle also said she might take me on a flight! She got her private pilot's license and I haven't had the chance to fly with her yet. That would be soooo cool. (No pressure, Calle, if you read this...I just think it's cool you have a pilot's license at all. My "M" on my driver's license pales in comparison...and I'm out of practice at piloting a motorcycle too...sigh)

Note to self: check out the Napier wine region in NZ -- apparently it's what the locals talk about!

Shimmers and Aoraki

2009-03-03T22:18:00.006-07:00

I'm reading a book called Straying from the Flock by Alexander Elder to get some background on New Zealand before I head out on my trip. I like this (p.37):

I realized that Shimmers [the cat] was a hard-working animal with an important role in the house. Klaus and Micha brought back carpets from the many countries that they visited and Shimmers made sure those carpets stayed in place. He moved from one carpet to another, following the sun throughout the day, and at night he held down the carpet in front of the fireplace.

I never knew my cat (Ariel) was doing such important work all day!

In an earlier post on my Kiwi Project, I mentioned that "Aoraki means Cloud Piercer in Maori" and that Mt. Aoraki was buffeted by fierce winds called the "Roaring Forties". I found an interesting legend about both those things. Here's a quick summary:

Aoraki and his 3 brothers were sailing their canoe when it struck a reef and capsized. The 4 men climbed onto the reef and sat down. They were caught by the wind and frozen in place. As they turned to stone, they became the South Island of New Zealand. Aoraki was seated the highest on the reef and became the tallest mountain.

In thinking about Mt. Aoraki/Mt. Cook, I think it will be even more awe-inspiring than our mountains here in Colorado. Sure it's a couple thousand feet shorter. But it starts from SEA LEVEL! Our mountains start from a mile high or so... In a couple places in the book (so far) the author mentions going from 'glacier to rain forest' or from 'palm trees to snow' in a few hundred feet!

Additional info:

Mount Aoraki Legend:
http://christchurchcitylibraries.com/HeManawa/LegendAoraki.asp
http://goaustralia.about.com/cs/newzealand/a/aorakilegend.htm
Straying from the Flock by Alexander Elder, p. 81

The Sparkly Ones, Please

2009-03-02T21:55:00.005-07:00

I always love the things you learn about yourself on chair lifts. I spent the last weekend skiing at Winter Park. I typically go with my friends Tori and Mikaela - both women from my hockey team. They both have condos up near the ski area, so it makes it easier to ski all weekend because we can stay overnight at one of the condos and avoid the long "commute" back to town.

Over Thanksgiving Tori was out of town and she agreed to let me use her condo. Mikaela was also out of town so I was skiing solo. On one of my lift rides up during that stay, the guy next to me asks "Who are you skiing with?" I tell him basically that I'm solo because my friend Tori is out of town but she was still kind enough to let me stay at her place. "Where is she?" I say she's gone to the Caribbean with her family for the holiday. "How rude! Your girlfriend goes on a tropical vacation and leaves you behind!"

I date women?
I would prefer to be laying on a beach instead of skiing?

This past weekend, Tori and I are up skiing - Mikaela is again busy. On my first lift ride, I rode up with a man, a woman, and a young girl. I politely ask how their ski day is going. The little girl is a riot. She apparently took lessons the day before and wants to show her mom how to "catch air" and "go off jumps". "Hey look - there's a good jump!" she says as pointing to a mound of snow that is easily 2 feet taller than she is. I ask what grade she's in. "Kindergarten!" Her mom mentions that Friday was a teacher in-service day. I say it seems like kids these days have more non-school days than I did. The mom says "Where do you go to school?"

At 38, I look young enough in my ski gear to be in school? (fantastic news!)

Twice as Tori and I are getting off the lift together, I'm approached by random people who ask me to take their picture "and make sure you get the mountain in the background." Tori wonders why they never ask her. I assume it's because I look young enough to be in school (and she doesn't) - and tell her that. Tori jokingly calls me a lesbian high school photographer.

Later that night Tori and I run by the grocery store. I have long hair, so while I have somewhere near a billion hair bands, I never have one with me. I've forgotten mine (again) on this trip. The only blemish on our day is that my hair is driving me nuts. We're looking for hair bands and discussing the relative merits of the many choices. I say "Ooooh - I want the sparkly ones!" Tori thinks this might have something to do with why I might be mistaken for someone younger.

So, I say, "bring on the sparkly ones!"

My Job is Like Internet Dating

2009-02-24T21:31:00.006-07:00

I inadvertently told a client today that "my job is like internet dating". Note to self: remember to engage brain BEFORE opening mouth.

I work for a company based in Illinois ("I-ain't-sick" if you ask my 4th grade geography teacher), but my home office is in California. I do my job from my home in Colorado. So a bad commute for me is when my black cat isn't readily visible in my dark hallway and I either trip over or kick her. Most days I don't comb my hair or get out of my PJs until I decide that I want to go outside for lunch or to work out. I can get up 15 minutes before a meeting and no one knows the difference. I can make faces at the phone when someone is annoying me and not risk my boss showing up to see my childish display. On the down side my work is ALWAYS here and I can get caught up in "one more thing" for work and suddenly it is 11pm. I actually have to set my alarm if I have something fun to do in the evening because I've worked through it more than once. In the office you get a clue because everyone else leaves or they turn the lights out!

But consider the similarities between working-from-home and on-line dating*:

I never meet most of the people I talk to
most of my conversations are via email or instant message
if I want to meet someone it requires a pre-arranged meeting place (usually a public place)
and I need to tell that person what I will be wearing/carrying and send them a photo (try meeting someone at the airport whose only recognizable feature is their voice)
when I do meet this person they look nothing like my mental picture
our relationship in person is nothing like our relationship via electronic communication (neither good nor bad, simply different)

Later today this client called me back (apparently the faux pas wasn't too bad...or they're attributing it to the 'quirkiness of rocket scientists'). I had asked them to test a change I made to their data. In this call my lovely client told me that it wasn't working. I swore it was! They insisted that I log in and see for myself. Ah, they were right (dangit). What do I say?

"Oh, I guess I have a commit issue." [Forgive me for this explanation, but in the database you can do all kinds of things when you have the auto-commit feature turned off, but until you type "commit" none of it is saved.]

So now the client thinks I have commitment issues - in addition to a job that's like on-line dating. (sigh)

* I'm not an expert. I don't even dabble anymore. But I did at one time try this. I think I failed the eHarmony personality test and it was all downhill from there. I'm not bitter (I swear) just disenchanted.

Professional Experience

2009-02-20T14:21:00.001-07:00

Something to keep in mind in today's economy:

"There's another line of work that requires less than 30 minutes of experience to call yourself a professional," says Marc Rabinoff, Ed.D., a professor in the department of human performance at Metropolitan State College of Denver. "And that's prostitution."

Women's Health, March 2009, p. 120

Kiwi Project: Premlinary

2009-02-18T22:55:00.000-07:00

I have a trip to New Zealand coming up. I know basically nothing about the country except:

Parts of The Lord of the Rings movies were filmed there. Pretty, but whatever.
New Zealanders call themselves 'Kiwis'. This refers to the bird, not the fruit. I think if the fruit first.
My super-cool friend Calle lives there. This alone is enough to warrant a trip!
They have wineries and mountains and beaches! What more do I need?

So I've started reading random things about NZ. I won’t bore you with all the stats, but I did read the CIA’s World Factbook page on NZ. Seems like a pretty “modern” country.

First country to allow women to vote!
About the size of Colorado, Italy or England.
About the same population as Colorado (NZ ~ 4.1M, CO ~ 4.3M)
The "main" or most populated island is the North Island -- where the capital of Wellington is. This is where Calle is.
The Maori came over from Polynesia around 800 or 900 AD.
The British Captain James Cook arrived in NZ the first time around 1769.
The highest mountains in NZ are all on the South Island in the Southern Alps.
They have mountains with glaciers on them!

This completely derailed my fact-finding mission. Of course I had to know how high the highest mountain is there! Being from Colorado I am a somewhat of a mountain snob and what others sometimes call mountains look like hills to me.

The tallest mountain is Aoraki/Mount Cook at 12,319 ft. Not bad – and apparently still growing about ¼ inch per year. But the Southern Alps are also battered by something called the Roaring Forties. These are (apparently) westerly winds that tear around the open waters at about the 45°S latitude picking up momentum in the open waters – and lucky NZ is the first land mass in the way.

Aoraki means "Cloud Piercer" in Maori.

This is fantastic - I'm going someplace with colorful names like Kiwi and Cloud Piercer and Roaring Forties!

PS - It's interesting that the mountain has a Maori name and a British name. I will have to find out more about this history. I also came across a "fact" that the Kiwis are fiercely competitive with the Aussies. I wonder if this is like the Avs fans think we have a rivalry with the Red Wings. The Red Wings couldn't care less... And I wonder if this is some business-person's interpretation.

Hi, How are you today?

2009-02-17T14:13:00.000-07:00

Besides being an Ashley MacIsaac* album title, this is my pet peeve of the day. And before I go too far, I promise to write about something that doesn't bother me in the very near future.

Why must the drive-thru people ask me how I am today? They don't care. It irritates me to leave a question unanswered OR have to say "Fine, thanks, how are you?" and wait for a response. Plus, I have difficulty suppressing the temptation to be a smart alec and say something like, "Well my dog got hit by a bus yesterday**, my boss just yelled at me for something he screwed up**, and it's too windy for a bike ride today, so I'll just have to get chubby by ordering crappy food here and paying for it from the change in my ashtray. How are you today?"

If the fast food joint must prolong my drive-thru experience by adding something pre-recorded*** while the drive-thru host makes change for the car 4 cars ahead of me, then just please say "Hi, thank you for choosing [fast foot chain] today. Go ahead and order when you're ready." Or if really necessary to prolong my wait to interact with an actual human that can actually take my order, maybe add in a blurb for the latest rearrangement of the 7 ingredients available with a nifty new marketing name and tell me it's available to try. But don't ask me if I want one. Questions take longer because I must answer them or seem rude.

Maybe they should just take the human out of the equation at all. They could install a touch-pad ordering system (covered by a rain/snow guard of course). Of course they'd also have to provide a thing of sani-wipes so I can clean off the pad before ordering (think of those wipes at the grocery store so I don't have to share germs with the last person to use the cart). And a conveyor belt/mechanical arm to deliver my food/beverage options. Although, maybe this is asking too much. Even in The Fifth Element, there are still humans involved in the order-taking process. And that film is just about dead-on with how I envision the future.

Just skip the "pleasantries" and get on with getting me my food. I'm very grumpy when not fed. (I submit this as evidence.)

*** I didn't realize these were recorded until today. It never bothered me that a guy said the "Hi" message, and then a woman took my order, and then a guy handed me my food. I figure it takes at least 5 people to complete my order anyways in this day of specialization of skillz. I'm sure there's a joke in there somewhere about "How many peeps does it take to make you a Chalupa?" but I'm not feeling particularly clever at the moment.

** Hyperbole

* And let me just say, I love Sleepy Maggie. I wish I could fiddle like that... Or play the guitar like a (bleep) riot... As long as I'm lamenting musical talents I do NOT possess I should probably confess that my mom sold the family piano because neither of us kids showed any talent. She's absolutely right - I didn't really bond with the piano.

[0] Origins

2009-02-13T14:58:00.000-07:00

In trying to uniquely identify myself in the blogging realm, I was immediately put into a quandary. I'm still defining who I am (at almost-38, I know, pathetic!), so how do I pick (and commit to keeping) one moniker?

So I gave up and decided to go with the thing I was going to blog about today. Like the Dread Pirate Roberts, I'll most likely change my mind in the morning (I won't be killing my apprentice, though, if I do change my mind).

Today in a meeting at work, our fearless leader talked about the launch* of a new project. As with many of my co-workers, I'm on the project, but don't finish my tasks and start actual work until later. The kick-off meeting included some facts about the virtual team:

200 years of experience**
members in 4 times zones
diverse backgrounds (including a rocket scientist!)
etc.

This is something I will never live down. For some reason the fact that I got a B.S. in Aerospace Engineering from CU-Boulder in the early 1990s is fascinating to people. The guy that got me my current job mentioned it in his recommendation. Our trainers tell the clients. Which is fun. Because I show up on-site and the client is ogling like I am from another planet*. It usually takes me some self conscious moments of checking my zippers and buttons and a trip to the bathroom to see if my hair looks like mad-scientist hair to decide it's not me but some weird corporate culture thing at this client. Then later in my visit someone at the client site will slip up and say "it's not rocket science". I'll flippantly say, "even if it was, I could still help you." [My BS in AE allows me to b***-s*** with the best of them, really!] Then they get these great big grins on their faces and admit that that trainer who was there last week mentioned it, but swore them to secrecy.

Granted I work in the insurance industry, so it's probably somewhat unusual. But really? The cold war ended around the time I graduated. Only like three lucky superstar* individuals got jobs in AE. I wasn't one of them. In fact, I voluntarily switched careers when I graduate because I HATED a class I took my junior year called Aerospace Dynamics. I got a D. [I wasn't alone. 60% of the class W/F'd or got something lower than a passing C.] This meant I didn't have to repeat it, but that I couldn't take Propulsion the next semester. I ask you, what kind of Rocket Scientist can't understand orbital transforms?

At any rate, there have to be a lot of my fellow AE graduates out there in non-related fields. Or am I the only one whose degree gets used as a selling point in unrelated industries?

* are you thinking of rockets yet?
** does this seem like an odd statistic to anyone else? I feel like I should be 200 years old - and then who'd want me on anything besides a history project?