Does anybody read these?

Since we last talked...

2012-02-06T14:16:00.002-06:00

Wow, what a month it’s been. When I last talked to you all, I was supposedly closing on my house “any day now.” Well, it’s been a month, and I’m still waiting to close on my house “any day now.” I will believe that I own a house when I have keys in my hand. And if it doesn’t happen soon, I’m taking the money I’ve saved up and going to Europe.

As soon as I renew my passport.

I haven’t even officially become a homeowner, and there’s already drama with my HOA. I can’t wait until I can get on the board and shake things up. The newest thing is that we have to buy parking stickers that have to be on our cars or they’re going to tow our own vehicles out of our own numbered parking spots?

That is officially one of the top-ten dumbest things I’ve ever heard. There’s this thing in life called being a grown-up. And part of being a grown-up means if someone is parking in your assigned, numbered parking space, which I might mention is deeded to you and is your own personal property and you don’t like it, you have a few options. You can a) tell them to get off your property or b) call a tow truck and have their ass towed. It’s really not that complicated.

Welcome to home ownership.

But now we have to have parking passes, which we have to pay money for. To park in our own numbered, assigned, deeded parking spots. Which is kind of bullshit, because it IS my property. And if I want to let you park on my property and park my car elsewhere (which I am sometimes known to do when I have guests), then that’s my god-given right. We did that in our assigned parking spaces in college, and it wasn’t an issue. You know why? Because unless we called to complain, no one actually knew there was someone parking in our spot. I’m guessing that in addition to paying for parking passes, I’m also paying to have tow trucks patrol our neighborhood and look for stickers. And they will, because they can make a lot of money that way. And someone’s going to get accidentally towed and there’s going to be some pissed off people, unlike the other way around.

I guess if that is the biggest issue I have, I will be OK. And, really, the fact that I was hoping to close this week, and it’s really not looking good is about to become my biggest issue.

Urgh. Remind me again why I wanted to buy a house?

Nah, it’ll be fine, just as soon as I get settled. I’m just freaking out because I have a lot to do and I am running out of time. But I’ll get it done; I always do.

Fear and loathing in NashVegas

2012-01-06T12:47:00.003-06:00

My apologies to Hunter S. Thompson for making a play on the title of his amazing novel. Maybe someday, when I grow up, I might be half the journalist he was.

Maybe.

The cutesy play on words was my attempt at being funny about a subject that has ceased being funny.

Many moons ago, I used to jokingly tell people my weight loss plan was to get so fat that Richard Simmons had to come and save me. It was a joke, of course, and people would laugh. But, Richard is a pretty inspirational guy, and while I'm glad he's never come to my house with a crane, maybe I could use one of his pep talks.

Hell, I'd even sweat to the oldies if he asked me. I just draw the line at wearing short shorts like he does.

All kidding aside, I'm not sure what I'm going to do. Normally when I feel like this, I at least come up with a plan on what I'm going to do to get all this weight off. Probably half the time that plan gets discarded with some empty Cheetos bags, but at the knowledge that I'd eventually try again was always there. Maybe the Cheetos would be, maybe not.

This time, I've gotten shot down, and I'm not really interested in getting up. Yes, I'm distressed at the fact that my clothes don't fit and my ass is the size of a house. Yes, I'm distressed that it's getting harder to navigate a flight of stairs. Yes, I worry that I'm going to make myself sick because I can't get better.

It's all there, and then I just file it away and stop caring.

I have hit the portion of our program where I feel completely and totally hopeless. Where I realize that I could work my ass off and lose weight, but I'm just going to gain it all back and have to do it again, so I'm not really sure what the point is. Sounds like a big waste of time.

I was in a different place less than 24 hours ago. I was going to go to the pool. I was looking at running shoes. I'd even made up my mind that I might try a half marathon again, figuring if I gave myself nine months to train I'd be fine. After all, I did it in five months last time.

Now, I'm in my office with the door closed, crying, and typing this on my lunch break because I have absolutely no desire to eat. Yes, I know that's not healthy, but at the same time I know that I'd have to go many, many days without eating before it would be an issue. I also know that last time I felt so shitty I lost all desire to eat I lost 20 pounds in 28 days. Yeah, I was so weak I could barely get up the stairs in my house, but I looked great.

It's been a long time since I hated myself, and I'm pretty much there right now. It's been so long that I don't know how to fix it. And perhaps more frightening, I'm not sure I want to fix it.

I spend so much time in my little clueless vacuum thinking that people who dislike me because of my weight are the people who have a problem. I'm beginning to suspect that I'm wrong.

Maybe I need to hate myself so I'll want to do something about it. Maybe that's what it takes to get away from the Cheetos.

I don't know anymore. I don't know about anything. I think I've just reached the point where I'm shutting down and disconnecting. I'm sure that can't be healthy, but neither is being the size of a small heifer (hiefer? That's a hard word to spell.).

Maybe I'm just in a funk. I ran out of anti-depressants and I'm still debating what to do about my prescription because of this new HSA we have at work. But, maybe, the clock has just run out.

No idea. Not even sure why I'm saying this, although I do feel well enough to put the tissues away.

Progress, I say. All I know is that I'm not buying new pants, so I need to come up with a plan.

A real one. Not some bullshit plan that involves Cheetos.

Whole lotta updates

2011-12-28T12:37:00.003-06:00

First, quick house update: loan is approved, house passed inspection. Now I wait to see when I get to close. Trying to decide if I really need to shut the utilities off from the inspection and turn them back on when I close. Haven't done it yet, and no one's said anything. But I don't want to screw anything up either. Oh, I'm also waiting to hear from the homeowners' association about putting a fence around my deck because it's up so high.

In this new-fangled effort to improve myself, I've worn jewelry to work today. I even sprayed on a nice perfume. I have not, however, attempted to put on make-up. That will require waking up earlier. It's a miracle I am awake and clothed when I arrive here each morning. However, the new house has a separate tub and shower and being that I'm not a huge fan of teeny-tiny showers, I will probably start taking baths in the evening and adjusting my routine. Perhaps that will translate to time for make-up. We'll see, but I wouldn't hold my breath. Some people are just not girly.

House. Girliness. What else?

Oh, because I am down to only a few pairs of pants that still fit, I am going to get serious about losing weight starting Jan. 1. I know everyone says that, but I have to. I'm starting to feel unhealthy, and I don't like that feeling. I know I'll never be thin, but I'd really love to fit into my pants. I'm not going back to Weight Watchers, though. Or at least that's not the current plan. I suck ass at keeping track of points. I think I am going to check out the local TOPS club next week. I had a lot of success with TOPS. Maybe I can do that again. And the gym. No matter what, there will be lots of quality time at the gym in the new year.

As a matter of fact, I think I'll call them to inquire about tomorrow. I'm done stressing about the house, so I guess I'll work on the next thing, which is me.

Not that I'm a fan of resolutions (although we currently have: make more of an effort on personal appearance, floss and lose weight listed), but I am going to work on my novel in 2012. Not necessarily because it's a new year, but because there is apparently a market for it, and I'm going to try it out.

Not much going on around here. I think I am going to make dinner tonight and then veg on the TV with a movie. I got that new Justin Timberlake one for Christmas, and that doesn't sound like a bad time.

I'm boring right now.

2011-12-19T10:40:00.003-06:00

There's not much to say these days. My life is completely and totally consumed with the drama that is involved with purchasing a home and probably pissing off a friend.

I have a home inspection Wednesday. Home inspections are expensive, especially when your realtor tells you that you have to pay to have the utilities turned on for one day. Have you ever done that? Hella expensive.

I passed my home-buyer education course; my loan is pretty much wrapped up. I am completely and totally broke and can't use my credit cards at Christmas, but other than that, life's OK.

Everything is fine in the grand scheme of things. I'm not going to end up homeless. I got a really great deal on a house that has some plusses from mine and some minuses. It will be home soon enough (pending inspection). The eye twitch is a little less active, although now I've started having very odd dreams...

While this has been stressful and probably will be for the next month or so, I think at the end of the day we will look back and see this has all been a blessing...

I'm leaving Friday morning to spend a few days with my family. Maybe I'll have something new to talk about when I get back. Sorry to be so boring lately.

Burnin' down the house

2011-12-09T16:15:00.002-06:00

OK, not really. We're just moving.

So, more on the saga of the house. I have worked my ass off over the last two years to get myself in the financial position to buy the house I've been renting on a lease-purchase agreement. And, it worked. I got myself approved for the mortgage, and everything was going well.

Until the appraisal came back.

Thirty thousand dollars too low.

Yes, that says $30,000.

Which would be the exact amount that the person I was buying the house from needed to recoup what she'd put into it.

I think you see where this is going.

She won't sell and lose her ass. Her suggestion was for us to continue our arrangement until the market picks back up.

But, I don't see why I need to lose my ass, which is what would happen if I continued renting to have the privilege of paying an extra $30,000 for the same house that's down the street.

So, I'm not going to. I've hired a Realtor and I'm trying to buy that house down the street. I should know next week. I really love my neighborhood, so I'm hoping it works out.

If not, there are other options. In some ways, some options are better (Hello, finished basement!) and/or "naked hot tub deck." In other ways, they are not as good. For example, the den/kitchen combo that was the only thing I ever wanted in my house so that the kitchen could be the central gathering place where people gathered, cooked and socialized? None of the other houses had that. So, I will still have to make a mock fireplace. I might get a window I can put next year's Christmas tree in front of.

I'm also going to lose the upstairs loft, which we just used to store crap before it got to the attic. The bedrooms are bigger, which makes that easier to swallow. And, I get to pick out a bright, new fridge and stove. Hello, double oven.

I will keep you all posted. Say a little prayer. I'm hoping this works out, because we're going on Week Three of the nervous eye twitch, and it's starting to get annoying.

Not as annoying as re-boxing all my stuff and renting a Uhaul, but annoying nonetheless.

Wow

2011-11-23T09:00:00.002-06:00

The proverbial shit has hit the fan in these parts.

There's disaster with the house, and I'll probably have to move. I'm really not happy about that. We'll see. I'm meeting with a realtor today to look at other houses in my neighborhood. I like my neighborhood.

Really, if I have to move, aside from a zillion man hours re-packing all the shit I just unpacked and moving it, what have I lost? Some money, which would be made up with a lower purchase price. A couple of gallons of paint that I will need to repaint the new house (and the old house). A few fixtures that I've replaced - new faucets, new lights...although I haven't ruled out swapping those yet. I am very partial to the track lights in my kitchen, and they don't seem to have them at the store anymore.

I'm very upset about the whole thing. It's nothing I did. I've worked my ass off to be a homeowner. It's more the fault of all those folks who got loans they couldn't pay. The foreclosure rates are so high that no one's property has value right now. That really, really sucks.

But, maybe it's time for stainless steel appliances and new kitchen counters? Glad I hadn't done that yet. Not looking forward to repainting the pink bathroom or Michelle's teal bedroom OR an entire new house, but we'll cross that bridge when we get to it.

After all, I won't believe that any housing deal will go through in this market until I see it with my own eyes.

Wow, our country is jacked up. Kudos to the folks occupying Wall Street, not that I think Wall Street really cares who they're screwing over.

The mom-mobile (and other cars)

2011-11-03T10:33:00.002-05:00

Today is the 100th anniversary of Chevrolet.

In case you're new to this blog, I will let you know right up front that I am highly biased when it comes to Chevy cars and trucks.

I am from Detroit. My father and his siblings worked for Generous Motors, as we always called it.

I have only driven two cars that were not Chevrolets. One was a 1986 Plymouth Horizon that my grandma lent to me when I got a job at the local newspaper, which was five miles from my campus apartment. The Ho-ho, as it was called, got me around town, was easy to park and went like a BEAST in the snow. It was a good little car.

After graduation, I drove a Pontiac Sunfire for nine months, until it met its untimely demise at the hand of a lady who was apparently absent on "red means stop" day of driver's ed. I bought the Sunfire because the dealer where I bought it neglected to tell me they had no Chevy Cavaliers with automatic transmissions. It was pretty much the same car, anyhow.

I learned how to drive a Cavalier, and I pretty much drove Cavaliers until I bought my HHR in 2009. I love my HHR. It looks super cool (although the white is kind of hearse-like), it has tons of room. I can haul stuff, I can go camping, and I still get 26 miles to the gallon.

Everyone in my family has a Chevrolet. We're not big fans of biting the hand that feeds you, and dad's employee discount makes it hard to say no to GM. Our trucks are Silverados and our cars are Cobalts. And then there's me with my crossover vehicle. (Actually, Grandma wanted an HHR but settled for a Cobalt, and my Aunt Lil bought an HHR after riding in mine.)

Yesterday, when I drove by my local Chevy dealer, I noticed there were not nearly as many HHRs on the lot as there usually are. When I sat down in front of a computer, I read that GM has phased out the HHR after 2011. Apparently because the PT Cruiser has been phased out, they feel like there is less market for my little retro station wagon/SUV.

That makes me sad. The HHR is a great car. I actually had someone ask me about one yesterday and I recommended it wholeheartedly. In fact, the only real issue I've had with mine is that my salesman told a little fibbaroo about it having XM radio.

It's tempting to replace mine before they're all gone, especially when I think about the great deals they are sure to offer on the remaining inventory. But, at the same time, I know that there will be another great GM car that will come along and it will be waiting for me when I am ready for a new one (which I hope will be a long, long time from now).

When I bought my car in 2009, I worried that GM might go bankrupt and I wouldn't have anything to drive. If there were no General Motors products, what would I drive? A Ford, I guess, since I am committed to buying vehicles from American companies made by union workers. And I do catch myself looking at the Ford Fusion once in a while...

GM is stronger today than it has been in years. Gov. Jennifer Granholm tweeted yesterday that Michigan is second in the nation in economic recovery, in large part due to the automotive sector. Buying American (not just cars) helps. Yes, you can get foreign cars for less money, but I've seen Kias and Hyundais that don't last nearly as long and are built to be disposable. As someone who has been driving GM products for 20 years now, I don't see the quality lag that people always blame for buying Hondas and Toyotas instead. My Cavalier, which I sold at 6 years old to a friend, only needed a replaced fuel pump before it met its untimely demise at the hands of a Mini Cooper. And, even then, it was sold to someone who planned to fix it. My dad's 1989 Silverado, that he sold seven years ago for 500 bucks, is still on the road today.

Happy Birthday, Chevy. Here's to 100 more.

Song of the day: "Like A Rock" by Bob Seger.

Mother knows best

2011-11-02T13:35:00.002-05:00

I don't know if I've mentioned this here, but I talk to my mom on the phone everyday on my way to work. It helps me keep in touch with her, because I miss her and she's my biggest cheerleader.

Today I tell her that I am going to Weight Watchers, but I am dreading it because I am sure I gained weight. (It was much worse than I imagined, for those keeping track at home.)

She tells me: I know you hate it, but you just need to write down everything you eat. Not just because you need to keep track of what you're eating, but why you're eating. It can be not only a food journal, but a real journal too. So when you lose 100 pounds and people want to know your story, it will already be written.

I thought about that for a bit, but then I realized a few things. First of all, I'm not a huge fan of other people's inspirational stories. Yes, I have tons of friends who have had success with weight loss and they do have inspirational stories. My TOPS pals have been huge inspirations for me. But, as we all know, my journey to become the super-sized version of me really started when I found myself surrounded by people with disordered thinking about their bodies and their eating habits. So, I try to avoid first-person testimonials most of the time. And secondly, the readers of my blog did not sign up for a play-by-play on my weight loss journey (which, to date, has not really left the parking lot). I hate when folks get on some sort of idea and their blogs go off on some crazy tangent to Uninteresting Land, and I am not going to do that to you all.

Don't get me wrong, there may be a post or two about my internal struggle with a cupcake, especially if I can make it funny. But I won't be telling you how much lettuce I ate, how many points I get or if I went to the gym. Unless, of course, there's a story there. There aren't many stories about lettuce, and rightly so.

I have huge, major hesitation about Weight Watchers, and I have a feeling my time there will be short-lived. I paid $99 through the end of the year, and that will be fine, but it really is expensive. I don't really dig how much money people make off me losing weight. It kind of makes me feel skeevy.

But, I need accountability and TOPS is not that convenient here. Still, maybe I will try to find a meeting that works for me. Maybe I will find a group of "diet buddies" that don't cost $12/week. I know what to do; I just need folks to hold me accountable. If no one asks about me going to the gym, I won't go. Even though I know I NEED to, losing weight and becoming healthier just isn't a priority for me, no matter what I do. Yeah, my knees hurt and my pants don't fit, but I don't hate myself anymore, and that's worth way more than $12/week to me.

Sometimes I wish I did. Maybe it would all be easier then. Maybe I'd be looking for that magic pill.

I don't know. I'm going to start working out again, so that will help.

Any other suggestions would be greatly appreciated.

November

2011-11-01T14:31:00.003-05:00

And with the turn of the calendar page, my favorite holiday has faded into memories for another year.

So, I'm doing what any person distressed by Halloween being over would do: I'm planning Thanksgiving.

The evites are sent, the menu is planned, and I'm still on the hunt for some more plates.

If only I had a table...

I'm also hoping, although this may be a long shot, that The Money Pit will officially be mine by Thanksgiving. Even if it's not, we'll still have champagne, but I'd really like to be done with all this house-buying nonsense. It's very time-consuming. If I have to fax or email one more document, I may scream.

But before we can finish purchasing the house, we'll need an appraisal. So, that explains why I'm going home to clean and move furniture tonight. I need the house to look like it's worth what I'm paying for it.

I think it will be fine, but I do want to paint the bathrooms a) to give myself peace of mind and b) because I finally picked out colors for the damn things. Maybe that will be this weekend's project.

This morning I saw a tweet that said there are eight weeks left in the year, so now's the time to start working on all those New Year's promises we've neglected.

If only I had that kind of time.

It's also the beginning of National Novel Writing Month, but I'm not even going to try. I know I won't have to crank out 50,000 words. But I promise I will write my book someday. I'm just not sure when. Maybe I'll at least get some more thoughts out. Maybe I'll find the handwritten missing chapter that's on a legal pad when I unpack those last few boxes.

Yep. There's still lots to do. Just as soon as I get the Halloween decorations packed in the attic for next year...

Shhhhh...

2011-10-25T16:12:00.002-05:00

I have a secret. It's something that not even those closest to me know.

And, no, I'm not telling you.

However, there is someone I should tell because it affects them as well.

But, I don't really like the person. And, I'd rather not talk to this individual at all. Like, if I saw this person on fire on the side of the road, I'd probably call 911, but I'd most likely not pull over and piss on them to put the fire out.

Some people are just better left in the past. And, after all, it was not I who burned the bridge.

I really just feel like if this person was supposed to know the secret, they would have not been an asshole who needed to be put in time out.

And, while it's kind of shitty of me, I feel like adults can figure some things out on their own without having to be told by others.

Not my problem, really. And not feeling like opening up that can of worms. Not looking for a reunion, not looking for redemption.

Just wishing the teeny tiny pang of guilt I occasionally get would just adios right out of my brain.
I'm sure it will someday, when things have been in the vault much longer...

I've got your back.

2011-10-25T08:54:00.002-05:00

So, last night (or this morning, really) I had a dream.

I had a dream that Jennifer Granholm, the former Governor of Michigan and all-around great gal, was president of the United States.

Alas, this was only a dream because she was born in Canada. However, the events of this dream reminded me what we, as Americans, need to do right now in our country.

In this dream, we were all still struggling financially, similar to the America of today. (Hell, it was my dream, and maybe in my dreams she becomes president instead of Obama, not just after him, like I previously thought.) We were at an event, which was in a big city, I'm going to guess Detroit, and people were begging this mythical President Granholm to help them. They had no jobs, they were sick and hungry without access to affordable healthcare and food.

Finally, as she walked by me, I said:
"You have to help us. Just push it through if you have to. Don't worry about consequences. We've got your back."

In this dream, President Granholm goes home, helps her kids with their homework and then goes on to tackle America's problems one by one, steamrolling anyone who didn't want Americans to be prosperous.

People were calling the White House telling them that the President had to do something about the state of the country, and if she did the right thing, we would not let her fail. They did the same thing with their Members of Congress.

Finally, our government started to get things done. Our elected officials realized that we, the voters, are the ultimate decisionmakers, and listened to us more and big money less.

And while I realize this was a dream, probably even a fantasy, I think we need to do this. I think we need to call/email/tweet our representatives and our president and tell them "If you make the right decisions and work hard to get America back on track, we've got your back." And for those who don't, we need to not have their backs. We need to vote and we need to be loud. After all, we elected these people to represent us and we need jobs, food and affordable housing and health care.

It's time to tell politicians that they need to stop worrying about the people who write the big checks like the Koch Brothers and start worrying about the people who pull the levers. The Koch Brothers might have a lot of money, but they only get one vote (in one Congressional district, I might add) just like the rest of us.

Call your elected officials. Tell them to get things done, and if they do that we have their backs.

And, if they don't, be loud so that people know that when it's time to head to the polls.

This is our America. Let's treat it that way.

Table for how many?

2011-10-21T13:50:00.002-05:00

So, it's my turn to host Thanksgiving. Last year I wanted to host in my new house, but it was Ashley's turn, so this year it's my turn.

My dining room in my house is pretty big, which is good, except I only have a little table right now, which is not good. I'm going to make a new table out of a door, but this means I have to find a vehicle big enough to carry around a door and actually find a door.

I really should do that before Thanksgiving.

So here I am, planning a menu, buying extra pieces of Fiesta, making an inventory of my table linens in my head and mentally arranging pies on top of the buffet, and I have no table. And, actually, if I get a bigger table, I'm probably going to need to procure a few chairs, as well.

Although, I'm not even sure how many people are coming to Thanksgiving.

AND, if the Lions are on TV, are we really going to have some big sit down dinner in the dining room, using gourds with everyone's name carved into them as placecards?

Hmmm... really the holidays are just about the friends and the food, so even if we're eating on card tables, it will be fine.

In fact, as long as there's pumpkin pie, cornbread stuffing, green bean casserole and wine, everything will be OK.

And, if I didn't plan, well, I wouldn't be me!

It's time.

2011-10-18T14:18:00.002-05:00

Today I went to the store to buy a few household items and get some more fall decorations for my house. Anyone who knows me knows that Halloween is my favorite holiday and fall is my favorite time of year. So as I loaded my cart with pumpkin-scented candles and a sparkly spiderweb that I'm going to use for a wreath (and Coke Zero, since we're being honest), I was in a pretty good mood. You know, one of those really good moods where it's hard to come back to reality.

But luckily, there was a rude, hostile customer to help me out with that. This woman was not only rude, but she was racist and rude. She was so distressed that there were three people ahead of her in line that she started that passive-aggressive, griping customer talk to no one in general.

"Oh my god, this place has really gone downhill. I can't believe that there's only one checkout lane open."

And the cashier did exactly what I would've done if this lady was at my workplace. She ignored her rather than call her a racist bitch to her face.

The lady didn't like that. She decided to go a step further and say: "Maybe you didn't understand me because I didn't speak Spanish, you Mexican piece of shit. I wonder what happened to that nice white lady who used to be the cashier here."

OK, so then I might have called her a racist bitch, but I don't think she heard me over her passive-aggressive, asshole customer routine.

I thought the cashier (who may or may not have been Hispanic; she did speak English with an accent I couldn't quite discern. I actually thought she was Middle Eastern) was going to cry. She quietly left the register and went outside and told whoever the girl was on her break to come back in and help her. When she came back in and turned the other girl's light on, bitch lady said thank you in a way that let you know she was not really thankful.

As I was loading up my car, I see bitch lady come out and get into a car that was broken down in the parking lot. From its temporary tags, she appears to have acquired it five days ago.

She really should have not created all that extra bad karma for herself.

After I got over my amusement at her new-to-her car being broken down, I got really upset. This is the second day in a row that I have experienced racism in the neighborhood where I work (yesterday I read some disturbingly racist comments on a neighborhood Internet forum created by the area's city councilman). All of a sudden, this is not really a place I want to be. This is a neighborhood that is allowing its hatred of the "new kids in town" to stifle its growth as a community. And it's just mean and ugly. I don't care what your perceived grievance is, no one deserves to be called a "Mexican piece of shit."

And as I usually do when people are ugly and racist toward Latinos, I thought of my own family.

I worry so much for my nephew, my sister-in-law and my Mexican family in Florida. They are all American citizens, and they contribute to society. (Not that mistreating them would be OK if they didn't.) People here in the United States see brown skin and hair and hear words that aren't in English, and they flip out. They assume you're illegal; and they assume you are a drain on society.

I told someone yesterday that I know more Asians and Europeans who are here illegally than I do Hispanics. But it's only the ones who look different who are getting persecuted. Adam told us one time that he was asked for his "papers" one day while he was fishing. This is an American citizen, folks. Who was asked to prove he was an American citizen while he was fishing. How many times has that happened to any of you?

Yeah, I didn't think so.

Our immigration system is broken. Only a minute number of people are able to come here legally each year. I just read an article today about students coming here on student visas and being forced to work in awful conditions in factories and not even getting to go to school. Our citizens are being harrassed. A record number of people were deported this year, even though there are very few legal paths to citizenship. People think it's OK to call someone a "Mexican piece of shit" because they had to wait in line at the store for a few minutes.

Our country is an ugly place these days. It worries me to death what kind of life my precious nephew will have here because he has brown skin and speaks Spanish. I don't want him to lose his culture, and I don't want him to ever be called a "Mexican piece of shit." It is breaking my heart just thinking about it.

My mom always says, "Unless your grandpa was named Cochise or Geronimo, you need to be for immigration reform, and you need to not bitch about people who come to our country for a better life, 'illegal' or not."

I think that's good advice here. We all have a stake in making our country a better place for everyone who lives here. We all have a stake for providing more safe, legal avenues for people to become citizens of our country.

Very few of us are truly natives here. Your family didn't get deported by the sheer grace of God, and now it's time to pay it forward. It's time to provide opportunity to the next generation of new Americans.

Motor City Madness

2011-10-12T11:18:00.002-05:00

I'm not the world's biggest sports fan. I rarely watch ESPN. I love Keith Olbermann more for his political banter than his baseball observations. I don't always know the names of cities' sports teams, let alone their players. I don't eat, breathe or sleep sports.

But I'm a Detroiter, and sports have always been what united Detroiters. And, for the most part, our sports teams have always given us a lot to cheer about.

Right now, the Detroit Lions are one of two undefeated teams in the NFL. And yes, I know it's still early in the season. But for a team who rarely wins five games in a season, being 5-0 is a major accomplishment.

The Tigers are in the American League Championship Series right now. I'm hoping in a few short games they will be headed to the World Series.

And hockey season just started, and the Red Wings never disappoint.

(Of course, basketball is still locked out, so that sucks. But maybe eventually the Pistons will join the fray.)

In a side note, the Michigan Wolverines football team is also currently undefeated. That may be more impressive than the Lions.

Last night, I cried watching the baseball game. I don't normally cry watching sports, but I cried last night. It wasn't because the game was particularly moving, it was because I was overwhelmed thinking about what these sports victories mean to Detroit.

Detroit's had a tough run of luck over the last few years. The unemployment rate is higher there than anywhere else in America. People's cars are worth more than their homes. The city and state are pretty much broke.

There's not a lot to cheer about in Detroit these days.

To me, and most Detroiters, the Tigers' and the Lions' victories mean more than just winning games. They represent a city coming back. A city that isn't giving up even when the rest of America is telling us we should. Imagine if the Lions had given up when they were left for dead. Or, for that matter, imagine if General Motors had.

Detroit has faced many obstacles in its 300+ years as a city. It's always been like a phoenix, rising from the ashes.

Maybe to rest of America it's just football or baseball, but to us it's all about not giving up. Detroit's a city that you may leave, but it never leaves you. It's always home, and it's always there for you. That's the way it's always been, and that's the way it always should be. I think of my brothers (along with Eminem, Kid Rock and Uncle Kracker) with their Old English "Ds" tattooed on their arms. I think about the way I crank the radio up everytime a song by Bob Seger or Stevie Wonder comes on.

I miss home. I pray everyday that things will get better for all of my friends and family that I left behind. A lot of times, I hate myself for leaving, but I do love Nashville and my life here as much as I loved my life there. (Even though Nashville really needs an MLB team.)

Things are getting better. There's still a long row to hoe, but GM and Chrysler are making money again. And even for those who are still looking for work or even maybe have given up, they are getting pleasure from watching the Tigers kick some ass.

Whether we bring home the pennant or not, Detroiters are winners, and the rest of the country shouldn't write us off. We'll be back. We always come back.

Taking the plunge

2011-09-28T09:24:00.002-05:00

So, I'm going to Weight Watchers today. They are having a special -- 10 weeks for $99 -- so I figure for $9.90 a week, I can try it out and see what happens.

I'm not sure about all the points and that shit, but I know this: I need to get back into a routine of weekly accountability and working toward being healthier. I would rather go to TOPS because it's cheaper and I do well with it, but the WW office is across the street from work, so I have access to more than one meeting a week.

I can tell already that we are going to have a throw-down about my goal weight, but I'm not going to worry about that right now. I can tell that, because it's physically impossible for me to get to my goal weight. Why? Because I'm a big girl with an athletic frame. That won't change even if the frame is not covered in fat. The high weight for my height on the infamous height-weight chart is 128. When I had my body fat tested a while ago, my skin, bones and muscles weighed 131. Needless to say, 128 is never going to happen for me. As much as I bitch about my period, I'd much rather have it than look like Leann Rimes.

This blog won't be about losing weight. It's still about whatever I want it to be about. And nine times out of 10, cupcake recipes are more exciting than weight loss. And losing weight doesn't mean I'm giving up cupcakes. Not happening. We'll work around it, even though my body at 35 is way different than my body at 25. At 25, I could go to the gym and work out for an hour and eat whatever I wanted. Now I have to work out for an hour and eat lettuce to lose weight.

I'm trying to get back on track with a lot of things, and, of course, I'll keep you posted. I'm just hoping this won't be a complete and total waste of $100. It could happen.

Labor Day

2011-09-05T12:00:00.002-05:00

I'm cooking up several blog posts, but I needed to stop for a minute to reflect on Labor Day.

In this day and age, it's easy to lose sight of the contributions of organized labor to our society. As the attack on the American worker continues, we need to remember our history and move forward as a nation, never losing sight on what others went through in order for us to have basic rights.

Child-labor laws. Health care. 40-hour work weeks. Safe work environments. Fair wages.

All of those things exist because organized labor stood up for all of us. Men and women lost their lives to organize their industries. And we take that for granted. Day by day, the rights of the worker are eroded. Companies have back-room plans to thwart labor efforts. Customers and workers cross picket lines. No one "looks for the union label" anymore.

9 percent of our workforce is unemployed. Every day, American workers train people in India to do their jobs. One-third of our population is uninsured.

Yet, we're buying cheap crap at Walmart. We're driving foreign cars made in non-union shops. We want everything cheaper, and we don't understand why we're losing our rights as workers.

Even if we're not in unions, we need to stand up for those who are. If the last few years have taught us nothing, we should know that we can't trust corporations to do the right thing. Labor unions hold them accountable. Without unions, those working today wouldn't be making holiday pay. No one would have health insurance at work. Those of us sitting at home wouldn't have a paid holiday. We wouldn't earn fair wages and our workplaces wouldn't be safe. Because big business doesn't give a shit about people, they want to make money and will do it at any cost. If that weren't the case, companies wouldn't have secret plans to stop union activity at their businesses.

Buy American. Look for the union label. Take a minute today, between your pool parties and barbecues, to thank organized labor for your holiday.

Poster children

2011-08-22T13:32:00.002-05:00

I am just back from a whirlwind trip across three states. It was fun, but now I am broke and tired.

Of course, after a weekend of almost completely and totally disconnecting (except for spending real, one-on-one time with family and friends), reality often hits you like a ton of bricks.

One of my many tasks at work is keeping up with the news headlines on our industry and our members. This requires me to follow a lot of news outlets, and sometimes I feel like I am on information overload. One thing that I've learned in today's world is to read news articles but never, ever click on the comments. People are just assholes, and it seems like the comments on every news story reflect this.

I saw an article today about what essential wardrobe pieces every plus-size woman needs, and I wanted to read it. I have never been a fashion plate, but I'm always looking for a few good, flattering pieces to add to my closet.

The suggestions were -- to put it politely -- interesting, so I decided to see what the comments said. I can sum them up in three categories.
1. OMG, did you really tell fat people to wear belts? What are you thinking?
2. Why are there never any plus-size models modeling plus size clothing? (With a side of "Really, size 10 is not plus-size. Jerks")
And, last but not least: 3. You bitches need to shut your traps and get on the treadmill so you don't have to wear plus sizes.

Now, I have never been the poster child for the fat acceptance craze. I accept my fat, because what the hell else am I going to do with it, but I am doing what I can to be healthy, whether weight loss is involved or not. And, my levels for everything continue to stay normal. I'm not diabetic; I don't have high cholesterol. I'm just fat. I go to the gym (although not as much as I should) and most of the time I watch what I eat. Not because I want to wear "normal" clothes, but because I don't want to keel over at 40 with a Twinkie in my hand. But I love to cook and I love to eat, and everything I make isn't always good for you. Everything in moderation, my friends.

In some ways, I give a lot of kudos to the folks who are in the fat acceptance movement. It takes a lot of courage to say "I'm fat, and you need to deal with it." However, no one should jeopardize his or her health. Whether you are too fat or too thin, if it affects your health you need to deal with it. If you're diabetic or you're having joint pain, you need to work on losing weight. Just like if you are a size 0 and you're vitamin deficient or have other issues. Everyone needs to try to be healthy, and too thin or too fat are generally not healthy.

Part of being healthy is having a healthy attitude about yourself. I have said many times that I would like to look better and be physically stronger but until that happens, this body is the only one I have. I don't sit around wishing that I were a size 2, because no matter how much I lose, that's never going to happen. My body is not made that way.

We can't put everyone in a cookie cutter. We're not made that way. We don't need to compare ourselves to one another. We don't need to base people's value on their pants size. What makes the world a wonderful place is that we are all different, and if you take the time you can find beauty in just about everyone.

We're destroying ourselves. When I hear someone say a size 10 is a plus size, it doesn't motivate me. It makes me feel hopeless. When someone minimizes my concerns and tells me to "shut my trap and get on a treadmill," it doesn't help. If someone said, not only to me but to the woman who is clearly too thin, "I'm worried about you. You would feel better if you did something to improve your weight," that would be much more helpful. But instead, everyone has to be a hater.

I don't wish weight issues on anyone who doesn't already have them. I am here to tell you after struggling for most of my life that they are absolute hell most of the time. It doesn't help that people are complete and total insensitive assholes. It's really a miracle that everyone with body issues haven't offed themselves. I wonder how many people have?

Career aspirations

2011-08-16T10:21:00.002-05:00

So, a friend of mine went to a funeral luncheon yesterday. While she was there, she texted me about this casserole she had fallen in love with. (Don't judge. Sometimes there are culinary emergencies.) She explained it to me and then tasked me with figuring out how to make it and cooking it for her.

Anyhow, after a little sleuthing and asking a few more questions, I found her recipe. She was pretty impressed.

I also found about a zillion more things that I want to make, including chocolate chip zucchini bread.

My friend's daughter has gotten into cooking and baking and she wants to go to culinary school. She's just in junior high now, but if she has that kind of passion and keeps working at it, I'm sure she'll have no problem.

Of course, that has me wishing that I'd done something like that. I love being a writer, but I really wish I could've done something with my other passion, which is working in the kitchen.

I wouldn't ever make a negative comment about my education. I got a great education, and I excelled at my studies. But had I not gone to a college prepartory school, perhaps I might have been encouraged to learn a trade. Maybe all-A students are just expected to go to college and get all kinds of degrees and sit at a desk all day.

Now I have way too many student loans to make a career of cooking and baking. Which is unfortunate, because I'm really good at it. I haven't figured out if I'm a better writer or a better cook. I probably have to work harder at cooking and baking, but it's a lot of fun to me.

Maybe things are better as they are. Cooking and baking are still fun for me. Writing tends to be more like work.

And besides, no telling how much I'd weigh if I were around delicious food all the time.

Sad eyes

2011-08-12T11:11:00.003-05:00

So, today I got the "sad eyes" again, and I must report that emailed sad eyes are almost as painful as real life sad eyes.

What are the "sad eyes," you ask?

The sad eyes are something that you get when dating (or, at least, I get when dating). They are when you are talking to someone and it's going swimmingly and then you meet them, and they look at you like their puppy just got hit by a car.

Yes, they are so depressed that they have to be seen in public with you that their eyes become filled with malaise and discontent. Not going to lie, it stings a little.

You know, I might be fat, but I'm not Quasimoto. And it's taken me a long time to realize that the only body I have is the one that I'm in right now. And, yes, I need to lose weight. Because my doctor says so, not because you don't think I'm attractive enough.

I have a friend who's lost almost 100 pounds. I'm pretty sure she just did it to attract potential mates. And, guess what? She's still not attracting potential mates. It could be because she didn't do anything to fix her attitude. There are lots of unhappy thin people out there.

And really I'm not unhappy. Unless I try to date and get the sad eyes. The sad eyes suck. It's OK if you're not attracted to me. After all, you could have back hair and you probably can't spell. But I'd never ever give anyone the sad eyes. But that's mostly because I can't imagine being so mortified by someone that I couldn't have a meal with them, even if I never intended to contact them ever again.

But, then again, I'm not a shallow asshole (except about back hair and poor spelling).

Really, wouldn't the world be a better place if we could learn how to treat people with kindness?

Remember the Titans

2011-08-10T10:55:00.002-05:00

While I did like the movie "Remember the Titans," and I think that maybe I'm supposed to be writing about fiction this month (although that may be nonfiction; not sure.), this post has nothing to do with that movie.

My work has Titans season tickets. And whenever they aren't being used for a game, they raffle them off among the employees. Last year, there was a game and no one else wanted to go except me and this one other girl, so I told them I would take the tickets.

Although you'll remember this time last year I was having a lot of medical problems. And the night of the Titans game, I was having them. And no one wanted to go with me.

So, I didn't go. I went home and slept. I even tried to get other people to take them, and no one wanted them.

So no harm, no foul, right?

Things are never that easy around here. And generally doing something wrong means receiving a passive aggressive nastygram. Which we did.

The new official edict of the office was that if you knew you couldn't go to a game you should not try to win the free tickets.

Instead of trying to plan being sick in advance, I decided that it would be a long, cold day in hell before I asked for the tickets again.

I'm serious. They could be playing the Colts (since I don't actually know the names of any of the Titans players) and Peyton Manning himself could hand-deliver the tickets, and I'd probably take a pass. I don't really like football that much, and when you have an outdoor stadium it can be too hot or too cold or too rainy. Not to mention we all know how much I love parking downtown...

Luckily I have to work Saturday night, so I didn't ask for tickets to this week's game. It also helps that being from Detroit, I pretty much abstain from pro football anyhow.

But if I'm tempted to ask about the tickets, I'll just "remember the Titans."

Stories

2011-08-08T12:25:00.000-05:00

If you’re not telling your story, someone else is, and it’s probably not that flattering.

My Imaginary Internet Friend, Steve, from The Twitter said that today. If Steve “borrowed” it, I have no knowledge of this, but it inspired me.

This blog was created many moons ago (or six years at the end of the month) as cheap therapy. It was also a way for me to get my side of a long-forgotten story out, albeit in a totally passive-aggressive way.

All of that is neither apples nor oranges. It doesn’t matter these days. Some friendships have been patched back together, although they are not the same. Others have been left in the morgue. And a few folks are on the periphery but not completely discounted. Sad to explain friendships in that way, but much like people themselves, our relationships evolve.

This past weekend, I’d hoped that my friend Cindy was coming to town, but she didn’t make it. She’s got a lot of stuff going on, so I understood, but I really do miss her. I haven’t seen her in forever, and although we keep up with each other via email and Facebook, we’re not as close as we once were. After all the shit we’ve been through, it’s probably a miracle that we’re even friends, so I will take what I get, but I really need to make an effort to spend time with her. And besides, I really do like Alabama. (Don’t tell anyone I said that, OK?)

Ninety-nine percent of the time, I don’t give a shit about what story people tell about me. I think it’s funny that folks would even take the effort to tell stories about me, but whatever does it for you. Of course, we’re all concerned with how we are perceived and what people think of us; it’s only human nature. Of course, some people’s opinions you have to take for what they are.

I’ve been taking a mental stroll down memory lane lately, and I’ve thought of some interesting things. Occasionally, I catch glimpses of places, people and situations that are probably just best left in the past. Sometimes I wonder if I might have not learned my lesson about certain things.

It’s taken me a long time in life to like myself. And I am a good person, and if people don’t like me, it truly is their loss. I don’t have to make everyone like me. I don’t have the time or energy for that. Sometimes I wonder if people can see past the things they judge me on, and then sometimes I don’t care. I make no apologies for who I am, although sometimes I feel like I should. I know I can be a tough pill to swallow, but we’re all different. That’s what makes life exciting.

I need to do a better job of telling my story before someone else tells it for me. If nothing else, it’ll keep us all entertained.

Yay, boobies! (and recipes!)

2011-07-27T09:01:00.002-05:00

My friend Shay has her birthday tomorrow. Shay is a one-woman breast cancer awareness machine. A big, pink ball of save the tatas good times.

In honor of her birthday, I am re-posting her favorite blog post ever.

It's the one where I rant about people who think the pink ribbon campaign doesn't help.

Maybe I'm just a sucker for pink shit. After all, I am making her birthday cake (chocolate zucchini cake with cream cheese frosting) in my pink Longaberger baking dish. I think a buck went to Susan G. Komen.

Preview

2011-07-26T13:49:00.001-05:00

So the theme for August's NaBloPoMo is fiction.

While there will be no fiction in the posts here (although, as always, I cannot vouch for the comments), we will talk about fiction. Movies, books, TV shows, favorite authors... I'm guessing every post won't be about fiction, but I'm guessing we'll have a lot of fun with it!

Writing

2011-07-26T11:06:00.002-05:00

This is a question for all my fellow writers/bloggers/charmers of words.

When you start a post and then don't get it finished for whatever reason, do you save them in your drafts or just delete them?

I save them. Some of them, I may want to revisit later. Others capture how I am feeling in a given moment, but, for one reason or another, I don't have the balls to post them. I just feel like they are part of my story even if I don't share them.

I had written a really great post, but for some reason it disappeared. I guess it was God's way of telling me to take a chill pill, because I am fired up today. I have PMS, so everything is pissing me off. But I also feel like America is hitting rock bottom with this debt crisis thing, and I felt compelled to say something about it in more than 140 characters. Lots more characters. That Blogger erased.

Oh well. I'm sure something else will come along soon enough.

Until then...

Reason 3,126 Nashville will never be a world-class city

2011-07-16T21:51:00.004-05:00

I know I haven't told you the other 3,125 reasons. If I live here long enough, I am sure I will get to them.

Tonight, I was supposed to go downtown to watch my friend Kathy's big gig at the Hard Rock Cafe. That's a big deal, and I was super excited about it.

I rushed home from working late, changed my clothes and hopped on the interstate. I should've known when I didn't have to wait in line at Kroger to get gas and ran into no traffic that everything that was going to go wrong was going to be once I got downtown.

And it was.

First, I couldn't get down the road in front of the Hard Rock, nor could I get in their parking lot to valet, which had been my plan when I was running late.

So, I went to the next-closest garage (took me about 10 minutes to go a block to do it). The girl said they had parking and it was only $2 more than the valet, so it was all good.

Except it wasn't.

There was no parking in the garage. And by the time I drove around for 10 minutes to find this out, I was going to miss most, if not all, of Kathy's show. So, I figured I'd just go downstairs, tell them they're out of parking and go home.

There's an attendant when I get up front (although I noticed they've replaced the pay booth with a credit card machine), so I tell him, "Hey, you're out of parking, so I am going to just go home. Here's my ticket; let me out."

He says, no problem, and sticks my card in his automated machine.

And it tells me to pay $12. For 10 minutes of parking, which was not really parking, it was driving from floor-to-floor looking for non-existent parking spots and giving up.

I have no problem with paying for services that I receive. I was more than willing to pay $12 to park there for a half-hour to watch my friend sing a few songs. But I didn't park. There were no spots in the lot. Therefore, I do not need to pay; I did not receive the promise service.

He called someone who was some sort of supervisor who says it's a $12 flat rate and I have to pay. (I have been in plenty of garages downtown that just let me out for free when there were no spots, so I am not sure why today was special.) I tell him I am not paying if we have to sit there all night.

Finally he let me leave the garage after taking all of my personal information and telling me not to ever pull into one of their garages again if I didn't intend to pay. I told him that if that's their policy they should put their "Full" sign up if they have no fucking parking spots.

I was pissed. I just went home, and I'm still seething. I'm mad because I'm sick of getting fucked over by Central Parking. Usually what happens with them is that I park in their lots, pay their little credit card machine and get a surprise when they charge my credit card two or three times the posted rate. They usually call it special-event parking, although most of the time I have no idea that anything's going on besides me grabbing a bite to eat with friends.

When Garth Brooks was in town, lots that normally charge $5 were charging $30. There really should be laws against that.

And, in most major cities there are. In most cities, there is a parking commission that regulates the parking garages and lots. In Detroit, you have to post your rates at the beginning of the year and you can't change them, no matter what. So if Garth Brooks is coming to town, your lot better charge $30 all year long. In fact, that's what they did the last year Tiger Stadium was open. Yeah, we bitched, but I'd rather know that I'm going to get robbed than get a little surprise when I log on to my online banking. On the plus side, I've always had enough money in my account to cover it, so that's good.

The costs to park downtown are outrageous anyhow. Hell, I've parked on fucking South Beach for cheaper. South Beach. Nothing about South Beach is cheap. It doesn't help that there's one company that owns 75 percent of the lots, and they are apparently shady as fuck. Surely even without government regulation, it's got to be illegal to say a parking lot costs $6 and then charge a credit card for $10.

Surely.

So, today I stood up for myself. No one should have to pay to not be able to park, especially not more than $1 per minute. It was obvious I wasn't "stealing" parking from them. I was in the garage 10 minutes. I didn't like being treated like a thief. Especially not by a company who has overcharged my credit card for parking probably a dozen times.

You might ask me, why do you park in Central Parking's lots if they are such assholes? Believe me, I have asked myself that several times tonight. The problem is, they own almost all the lots downtown. It's really hard to not park in their lots, but if I have a choice, I don't park in their lots.

I think aside from getting ripped off, I am just pissed because our city is better than this. I'm sure they think it's OK for a private company to buy up all the land downtown and screw people over for parking. But the problem is, when people come to a city, they expect to be treated fairly, and they aren't treated fairly when they come to Nashville to visit and park downtown. And that hurts us if those people don't return. It hurts the city if people like me, who used to go downtown all the time say "Fuck Central Parking, I am just not going downtown and getting screwed anymore." So, that hurts the restaurants and bars where I like to spend money.

We want to be a world class city. We want to attract tourism. But who wants to go to a city where you get a little extra surprise on your credit card bill when you get home?

What I think is most interesting is that people who don't believe in regulating private industry say that we can trust businesses to do the right thing.

Do you really think charging someone for a service they didn't receive is the right thing? Not to mention topping it off by lecturing them about stealing parking that didn't exist.

Businesses are out to make the most money possible. They don't give a fuck about people. That's why people need government to make rules that protect us.

Fuck Central Parking.

House guests

2011-07-12T09:46:00.003-05:00

So, because my Writer's Block is not on my desk, I decided to see what the Internet gods had in the way of a writing prompt today.

My writing prompt was to tell about a house guest I had or tell about a time when I was a house guest.

There are so many adventures I've had over the years.

I could tell you about the time my work needed me to go to the Chicago Auto Show, but my client was too cheap to pay for my hotel room at the Fairmont with everyone else, so I had to stay with my friend Kathy. And take a bus to the El to a bus to the Convention Center. Oh, and then I slipped on the icy stairs of her third floor walk-up and wasn't sure how I'd move for the rest of the trip. That was a good time.

Seriously, it was. Although if it hadn't been for a cold, February week in The Windy City, I might have moved there forever. Not going to Chicago for the weekend is on my top ten list of reasons I miss Detroit.

There was the time that a friend came to visit me in Detroit on my birthday. And I had the flu, but she was on some whirlwind tour of the Midwest with no cell phone, so I couldn't cancel. So, I slept on my couch the whole time she was there, including right through a tornado that picked semi trucks up off the Interstate and threw them onto a golf course.

Not nearly as fun as almost breaking my back in Chicago.

Last, but not least, was the time I went to London to visit a friend from college who was working there. February in London is much better than February in Chicago. It was a marvelous trip, except for the part where I slipped in the shower and was sprawled out in the bathtub wrapped in the shower curtain while my male friend is shouting through the door: "Are you OK in there? I'm going to come in and check on you!" Luckily I was able to recover because he came in and saw me in all my glory.

Because I'm pretty sure that would've made me wish I was back in Chicago, hobbling like an old lady with a neck that wouldn't move. With the icy wind cutting through me.

Do you have an interesting house guest story (or three)? Leave it in the comments or leave a link back to your blog.

Do these pants...

2011-06-23T12:55:00.001-05:00

We all know there's no good way to answer the age-old question: "Do these pants make my ass look big?"

But sometimes the pants answer the question for you.

Recently I noticed that my black dress pants were a little snug. They still zipped up and didn't look horrible, but I wouldn't have made any sudden movements in them.

So, when I saw that Lane Bryant (where big girls shop!) had pants on sale, I picked up a new pair of black pants just one size higher.

Because surely if my pants were a little snug one size higher would fit.

Except they didn't. They wouldn't zip up. They wouldn't even lay-on-the-bed-with-a-clothes-hanger-in-the-zipper-to-pull-it-up zip. It was not happening.

At this point I have two options. I can go to Lane Bryant and trade them for the next size up (you know, two sizes bigger than what I normally wear). After all, they were a new style (read: I have no underwear that you will not see when I wear these pants). Or I could lose weight and wear my damn pants.

I chose the latter.

I have been eating things only rabbits should eat (and those little 100-calorie chocolate-covered pretzel packs). I have been going to the gym everyday and have even become a regular at something called "Water Wake-up with William." William is also known as Hot William Who Teaches Yoga. It's a good class except that it's at a time when I normally like to sleep.

I have lost six pounds so far. So, realistically, that is 6 percent of my goal. (Arggh.) I am trying to ignore the nay-sayers, although that's hard when people actually tell you they think 10 is a plus size (they don't have it where the big girls shop!) and that Kate Winslet (who might be a 10) is obese.

Wow, we have really allowed our brains to be screwed up with some misconceptions about body image, haven't we?

But, anyhow, I lost six pounds this week. Next week, I hope to get the pants on. Maybe in following weeks I will zip them up and even make sudden movements in them.

I guess at that point, I'll also have to look for new underwear.

This is not about fans. (Sorry.)

2011-06-16T11:17:00.004-05:00

About a month ago, when I was home for my brother's wedding, I went in the day of the wedding (thanks to my grandma who scheduled everything for me when she was getting her hair done) for a manicure, polish change on my toes and hair cut and style so I could look half-way decent at the wedding. The hair salon I still go to is the one that I went to when I lived in Ohio, and, since it was two blocks from my office when I worked there, many of my coworkers went there too. (We used to go tanning on our lunch break. True story.)

While I was there last month, one of my former co-workers came in to get her hair cut. She had also moved away, although she had some bizarre commuting thing going on because she and her husband couldn't/hadn't sold their house there yet. It took me a while to figure out who she was, so by the time I did, I didn't really have time to catch up with her. Clearly she is working elsewhere or she wouldn't have the bizarre commuting situation.

Not to mention I don't really feel the urge to communicate with most of the folks there. It was just a year of my life that I generally gloss over and pretend it never happened. If I could hit the mythical rewind button, I'd change a lot of things that happened in that time period, both personally and profressionally. In fact, I'd probably still be in Detroit because I would have never, ever taken that job. But hindsight is 20/20, and life is good now, so I guess it was just a speed bump in the road.

There are a few people I really miss and wish that I kept in better touch with, and those are Erin and Robin, who were kind of my assistants but not really because other people were massive control freaks who didn't really let me do my job. Other than that, I'm not really interested in keeping in touch. And frankly, I'm guessing since no one heard my side of the story that they all probably think I'm a flaky loser anyhow. They don't know that every idea I had was abandoned mid-stream (not by me) and that I was essentially set up to fail. They probably don't know that the position that I was offered and brought on board for was different than the one when I arrived at the office (after moving my life 250 miles). For example, in some great scheme to pay for me (because my former employer had a great scheme to pay for everything) she'd basically sub-contracted me to another person for 10 hours a week. Another person an hour away. (I could also say another person completely unqualified for her job and all over the map, but that'd be mean of me.) And I couldn't turn in my mileage. But, this was something I learned after I'd worked there a few weeks.

The fact is, I was miserable in that job and it wasn't working out from the minute I got there. As a matter of fact, I'd already made up my mind to move to Nashville and had several interviews here the day that she basically told me that she'd hoped I'd failed with the to-do list that she'd given me because she had no money to pay me. The decision for me to leave was a lot more mutual than she let on, and the whole situation was dealt with very poorly.

But, like I said, hind-sight is 20/20.

I had an amazing team, and I do often wonder about all of the girls and what they are doing now. They are all strong, amazing women with good heads on their shoulders. I'm pretty sure they could do whatever they want to do in life. And I remember all the fun times, like when our team had Secret Santa and I kept leaving everyone presents to confuse them. Or when one of the girls posted a photo of her politician dream crush (yes, I used to work with political nerds just like me) and it turned out to be our boss's brother-in-law (and co-worker's brother).

Sometimes I even think maybe I'd like to do more of the nonprofit fundraising stuff. I help Carol when I can, but fundraising has never really been where my passion lies. Writing brings me joy (although yesterday when I had the writer's block that was debatable). And fundraising isn't bad when I have a passion for the organization. I get all excited about it when I am reading a proposal for Carol or working on the Vision Walk, but if it's a cause I'm lukewarm about, it's harder to get behind it. And while I'd love nothing more than to singlehandedly save Appalachia, there were roadblocks there. Community perception means a lot when fundraising. I've learned that along the way. And I just read last week that professional fundraisers should never be expected to shake down their personal connections. So, when I was hired for a job because I had the same last name as a lot of people in the area, it never should've been expected that I bring them all to the table, especially by an organization that had a perception problem in the community.

I think I'm going to start working on my Vision Walk fundraising sooner than later. I have the Alzheimer's Walk for work, and then I'm doing the Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure because it means a lot to Shay and I need to get in shape for the Las Vegas Half Marathon in December. It can't hurt to have another skill set, especially if it allows you to raise money for charity.

I really don't know how this relates to fans. I really should've found a way to do that.

Actually, hold on -- sometimes a fan of going down memory lane. Not often, but sometimes.

There you go.

Block

2011-06-15T09:10:00.004-05:00

I have a little writer's block, and a whole lot of shit to write.

I have done everything in my office that does not require me to write copy. I have updated the website, prepared some course evaluations, did the pagination for the next issue of my magazine, went through all my press clippings, caught up with PRSA on the Internet. Yep, all done.

So, it's time to write magazine articles and press releases, and I can barely eek out a blog post. It's going to be a very long day, isn't it?

While I like all the layout and creative stuff I do (although I'm less creative than I used to be), I dislike not having standing weekly writing assignments. Because when I do have to write, it's like pulling teeth sometimes.

(I know what you are all thinking. If you wrote here everyday, you'd be sharper. I know that. I'm doing much better, aren't I?)

I'm going to go try to write something. I'll start with the easy stuff. Maybe that will help. It'll all get done by Friday. Maybe I just needed to wait until it felt like I was on deadline. I'm not sure.

So, today I'm not a fan of writer's block. But since I'm supposed to be telling you things that I am a fan of so you can learn more about me, and the subject of this post is "Block," I will tell you (in case you didn't know) that I love New Kids on the Block.

Love them.

I will not, unfortunately, be partaking in this whole NKOTB-Backstreet Boys nonsense because I don't actually know who the Backstreet Boys are aside from JT. Oh wait, JT's from 'NSync. Maybe I meant Nick Lachey... Actually, no. After I became a grown-up, I was pretty much off boy bands, so this is pretty much how it goes: NKOTB, yes; JT, yes; Nick Lachey, hell yes; and all other boy bands and their members, no.

My favorite New Kid: Totally Jonathan, even after all these years. I follow him on Twitter. He sent me a direct message one day, and I squealed like a teenage girl.

Yes, I'm working on getting a life. Give me time.

Whoosh!

2011-06-13T16:02:00.003-05:00

I was all excited about my $30 Lane Bryant dress that I look absolutely wonderful in today. Then Michelle Obama went out in a $29 Gap dress and looked even better. Oh well, it was nice while it lasted.

I went to Kroger at lunch today and bought Smart Ones/Lean Cuisines/Healthy Choices for breakfast and lunch for all week, along with a bottle of Pepsi Max and some sweet tea made with Splenda.

I am going to the gym after work to run. Yes, run. I am really, honestly starting Couch 25k today. Honestly. I even committed to run in the Susan G. Komen 5K in the fall. I am even going to get another pair of my Susan G. Komen pink ribbon running shoes for the occasion. And, I'm actually excited about it.

After all, I figure if a 400-pound man can run an entire marathon, I can do a 5K. And then a half-marathon (Nashville next April?). I don't know that I'll ever do whole marathons, but I need to get addicted to half-marathons again. I was in the best shape of my life when I did them. And that was -- agh -- 90 pounds ago.

Yes, I have 90 pounds to lose. At least. Yes, I'm pissed about it. But the only thing I can do is start running. I just need to watch what I eat and work out everyday, and I will be fine.

I know how to do it; I just got lazy and let other things take priority. That's no way to live. Sometimes you have to be a little selfish, especially when it comes to your health. And while I've been able to stay healthy so far, I'm not silly enough to think that will last forever at this weight.

We're switching our schedule at work for the summer, which will make it challenging to squeeze the gym in, but I just have to do it. I have to find that girl who worked her ass off 8, 9, 10 years ago to look awesome and feel great. She's in here somewhere. I don't think the fat's completely suffocated her yet.

Ooh La La!

2011-06-10T13:53:00.003-05:00

Today I went to get my free birthday treat from Panera Bread. Despite the entire case of delectable goodies, it didn't take me long to decide what I wanted. Yes, the cookies were cute, and the bear claws looked heavenly, but there is one pastry that holds a very special place in my hear and remains my favorite after many, many years.

The chocolate croissant.

My love for chocolate croissants started on a trip to France almost 20 years ago. I went with my friend and I didn't actually speak any French (Hablo Espanol.), but I wanted to see the world, so I saved babysitting money for years to take a 17-day tour of Europe. It was one of the most amazing trips of my entire life.

Because it was sponsored by the French class, the trip started with 3 days in England, then had over a week in France, and then about a week divided between Austria, Lichtenstein, Switzerland and Germany. It was a nice introduction to Europe.

We had an interloper for a third roommate, so by the time I arrived in France, I was pretty much over hanging out with my classmates. So, when there weren't organized activities, I'd just wonder around the little French towns and take in the sights. This meant that I was by myself for lunch everyday, and I didn't speak French.

I figued out that "l'eau" meant water at dinner the first night, so that solved one issue. I'd drink "cafe," or coffee, in the mornings and "l'eau" with lunch. At dinner, it was always vin. I love vin, and in France every town has their local vintage.

So, I knew enough words for beverages. That's good.

Lucky for me, some words in Spanish are very similar to French. For example, "pan," which is Spanish for bread, is very close to "pain," the French word. This is how I figured out that "pain au chocolat" meant chocolate croissant and christened it my new lunch food. (Yes, I had a a chocolate croissant and bottle of water everyday for lunch. Don't judge.)

If you ever go to France, make sure you have a real, authentic pain au chocolat. They are amazing. The ones here in the United States are pretty good too. But there's no way to describe the feeling of sitting on the steps of an old French church in an old French town eating a chocolate croissant.

So, even when I have the Panera bread version of pain au chocolat, it still takes me back to that trip in France. The bright lights of Paris, the exhilliration of looking down from the Eiffel Tower, le chateau, the tales of Marie Antionette, and many, many more memories. Some day I'd like to get back, drink a lot of wine, maybe even take some cooking classes. I'd like to visit the South of France, because I've never been there. I could spend a lifetime in Paris and never see all the sights. And there's so much more champagne to be drunk.

It's amazing how a two-dollar pastry can evoke such memories. I'm glad I took the time to share a few of them with you.

Grilled

2011-06-08T13:25:00.002-05:00

I love to grill out. So, I was quite distressed when I found out that my condo association actually enforces our city's grilling laws. This means that because we are in a multi-unit dwelling with vinyl siding, we aren't supposed to have charcoal or gas grills. It's absolutely ridiculous, and I don't think anyone else enforces this rule. At least, when I drive around other developments or visit my friends, they all have gas grills. I understand banning charcoal, especially with wooden decks, but I really don't see how I am going to burn down my house with a gas grill on a concrete patio several feet from my house.

I bought an electric grill. It actually works really well except that it uses the entire 15 amp breaker that it's on, so we can't watch TV or turn lights on or anything else while it's running. But the steaks were good.

I am glad that my neighbors don't set my house on fire with wayward charcoal grills. I just wish there were some consistency in enforcing the law. It seems pretty ridiculous if you ask me.

Computer problems

2011-06-07T09:11:00.002-05:00

I am also not a fan of computer problems.

Technically, this should be last night's post, but see above.

I don't even remember what I was going to write about. However, I think my cousin's husband has solved my computer issues, so that's good. I just need to order an external hard drive and move shit around. The, real question, however, is how did 50-some pictures from my brother's wedding, 2 CDs, and my BlackBerry software fill up my damn hard drive?

I guess we will figure it out when I start to move stuff, eh?

I deleted tons of shit last night, which was like the proverbial cleaning of the closet, but it didn't even make a dent in my hard drive space.

And, despite it all, there was some stuff I just couldn't delete. We'll see how I'm feeling when it becomes time to move things. I guess deep down even though now things make me grumpy and want to bitch slap people (I have a list) until they cry, at the time I was happy and having fun.

Old

2011-06-05T22:23:00.003-05:00

I am not a fan of getting old.

I will spare you all the gory details, but in addition to having more gray hair, I'm also fatter, moodier and have the face of a 12-year-old girl.

I'm trying to lose weight, but I'm not sure if there's any point as I hear more and more people saying that in your late 30s, you're pretty much screwed.

I'm just tired and grumpy and I am thinking I should probably get some rest before I attempt to stuff myself into some clothes in the morning.

Fans

2011-06-05T00:10:00.002-05:00

We could have used some extra fans today.

Not the kind that love us, the kind that makes things cooler.

It wasn't as hot as 112 degrees outside, but it was warm at this year's Top Dog & Cat competition at Belmont Pet Resort. As usual, we ran out of water.

But that's a good thing; we met a lot of fans of Brown Dog Foundation who showed up to support us. We raised a lot of money to help the pets get medical care.

I am worn out and ready for bed. It has been a long day.

Thanks to everyone who supports Brown Dog. It's amazing group that's really helping a lot of animals and people. Every time I hear the story of another pet they've helped, it's hard not be proud of all the hard work, even if you can barely keep your eyes open.

Cosmos

2011-06-03T22:30:00.002-05:00

Tonight, I made myself a nice, frosty cosmo. It was a good way to end a very long, short work week. 5 p.m. on Friday couldn't get here soon enough.

As I drank my cosmo, I thought about Carrie Bradshaw, the fictional woman in the "Sex and the City" show. I love Sex and the City. I have the entire box set of DVDs of the show and both movies. I just love the whole premise of it. Four women living in the big city, who tell it like it is and are there for each other as they navigate their crazy lives. I think we all have our close friends that we can share anything with. It was a great show.

One thing female fans of the show do is to figure out which character they are most like. And I've always identified with Carrie Bradshaw. I'm neurotic, single, a writer. Sometimes Carrie tries to sabotage her relationships, usually unintentionally, when things are otherwise good. And, I really do love a good cosmo.

Somedays I wish I were more like Carrie. I'd love a cute little walk-up apartment in a real big city (Nashville is nice, but it's not hustle and bustle like New York). I'd love to write books and have my face on the side of a bus.

Well, maybe, all that attention comes with a lot of scrutiny. Here I'm kind of anonymous, and I still have had to deal with a whole bunch of shit from some loony tooneys along the way. Maybe I'll write my great American novel with a psuedonym.

We'll see. I'm nowhere near worrying about that yet.

Cosmos. Writing. Friends. One of my all-time favorite shows.

And since we're supposed to be learning new things about me, I will tell those of you who are new that last year, on my birthday, I won a contest to be a VIP at the Sex and the City 2 sneak preview. I got to see it before everyone else, best seats in the theater and got a prize pack from California that included SATC martini glasses. It was very cool because I never win anything.

Betty Crocker

2011-06-02T16:54:00.004-05:00

I love to cook. I am a big fan of baking and cooking things. Especially when I'm stressed out. Although right now my stress level is pretty low, and I'm still going to go a little crazy in the kitchen tonight. I want to make a pie and some muffins and some Italian pork chops plus throw a butt roast in the crock pot for pulled pork tomorrow night.

I am trying to decide if I'm going to have some vino this evening. I am thinking about it. I have a Malbec at the house that will be tasty. I just don't drink wine fast enough when I'm alone, and it's expensive to open for one glass before you pass out on the couch. Maybe that's why I generally prefer hard liquor -- longer shelf life.

I have a zillion cookbooks. In fact, the bookshelf on my den is completely filled with cookbooks. You'd think I'd always know what I want to eat, but that is not the case at all. It's a constant struggle for me. If I were a fan of planning ahead, then I'd probably never have to worry about it, and I surely wouldn't go to the store as much as I do. It seems like I stop on the way home almost every night. No telling how much extra money this habit costs me.

Maybe that will be a goal for next week -- to plan out my menu and make one trip to Kroger. Maybe I'll just eat mac & cheese all week and save money. I guess it will depend if I am over this baking and cooking craziness by then.

Probably not. I never really get over it. So, I think my goal next week will be to try at least one new recipe from a cookbook that is already on my shelf and report back.

And, while we're on the topic of fans, I should report that most people are fans of my cooking. In fact, the guy at work who doesn't eat at potlucks because he's afraid of germs from other people's kitchens, always asks me when I'm going to make another treat for my co-workers.

The answer to that would be that I will channel the "muffin madness" into goodies for Monday's staff meeting.

Dilemma

2011-06-02T08:53:00.002-05:00

So, this is my post from June 1. We are going to count it as my post for June 1 because my Blackberry ate it and my computer was already turned off, or it would've been posted June 1. It counts. I am going to make my blogging goal this month. Or at least be slightly more respectable.

For most of June, following the theme "FAN," I will be posting things that I am a fan of. There will be other things, but think of this as a way to learn 30 new things that I like. OK, knowing me, there may be a few things that I am not a fan of. But, you'll still learn more about me. Maybe I'll even learn more about myself.

So, if you've been here a while, you have probably figured out that I am a fan of Vince Vaughn and Kevin James. Love them. I watch just about everything they are in. And, if either of them is in a film with Adam Sandler, I am the first one at the theater. Hilarious guys.

Last night when I was returning "No Strings Attached" (a very cute, funny movie) to the Redbox, I saw they had "The Dilemma." The previews looked hilarious, and it's Vince and Kevin. I had a buck and nothing better to do, so I rented it.

It really wasn't that funny. There were a few funny moments, but it wasn't bent-over-in-your-chair, clutching-your-sides hilarious. I definitely didn't laugh until I had tears running down my cheeks, which often happens when I watch movies with these guys (Four Christmases? Grown Ups?). It was just a disappointing movie, partly because Ashton Kutcher and Natalie Portman (who knew she was funny) killed it in the movie I'd watched the night before. They were so good, I've even made my peace with Ashton replacing Charlie on "Two and a Half Men," which seriously had me laughing so hard the other night that my roommate came in the living room to check on me.

Not sure what happened with The Dilemma. I still love Vince and Kevin, and I'll still watch whatever they make (separately or together) in hopes that it will have me rolling on the ground laughing. They're really funny guys; I just think this movie just wasn't that funny. Not their fault. It was a little dark, but it had the potential to be hilarious. It just wasn't. Not sure whose fault it was. From what I've read on the internet, people seem to be blaming Ron Howard, but he's usually an exceptional director. I guess it will just be one of life's mysteries.

Not sure what movie is next. Summer's a good time to catch up with nothing on TV. It's too hot to go outside.

Any good movies you're a fan of that you'd like to recommend?

Maybe...

2011-05-31T09:02:00.002-05:00

...June will be better.

In fact, I know it will. First of all, the theme for June is "fan," and I got all kinds of commentary for that. The South is hotter than a mofo right now, so there's that kind of fan, and the other kind of fan...well, that'll fill up a book, hours of therapy and several blog posts, I'm sure.

I am finding this topic quite ironic because on the way to work this morning, I was thinking about some of the lunatic fans I've encountered and all their plusses and minusues. The minuses made me want to be antisocial and cave up from the outside world (that and being completely and totally overextended with everyone else's nonsense), but if i had all that free time, I could work on one of the plusses, which is to work on my book. So, that'd be a plus. Assuming I can actually write fiction...because, as you know, this has so far been a strictly nonfiction operation. (Also probably why people piss me off.)

I will save most of the merriment for tomorow, but there will be more writing here. I'm still not going to write for the sake of writing, but I need to get some of the shit that's in my brain out. I'm hoping that doesn't piss you off.

But, then again, not really sure I care. This is still MY blog.

So close, yet so far away...

2011-05-23T13:36:00.002-05:00

Yesterday, I stumbled upon a sandwich marathon of sorts (I think they called it "Best Buns") on the Travel Channel. Besides learning where to get burgers in Reno and Lobster rolls in Maine, they addressed a topic near and dear to my heart:

Who has a better coney dog: Lafayette or American Coney Island in Detroit?

I won't bore you with the whole story of these rival businesses owned by brothers, next door to each other for 70+ years. And I can't even tell you personally which one is best, because I lived in the suburbs and went to National, Leo's, Kerby's or the coney island right across the street from my house (we could've walked, had we not been fat, lazy Detroiters trying to score hot dogs), Westside Coney Island. As Ron said today, in Detroit there's a coney island on every corner, and people go 4-5 times a week.

Yeah, those were the good old days. How I weighed 70 pounds less and went to coneys once a week will always be one of life's mysteries. I think it helped that Vic Tanny (Bally's whatever) was also on the way home and I ate a lot of Greek salads.

I always miss Detroit coneys, and they're just not something that you can make on your own (mostly because the recipe for the sauce contains some questionable ingredients). I mostly blame the intro to the TV show "Hung," which starts out in front of American and Lafayette and ends up at Hung's house, which I believe is West Bloomfield. (Quarton Lake, maybe?) This Travel Channel show yesterday didn't help much.

Luckily, there is an option for displaced Detroiters here in the Music City. A few months ago, I had driven by a tiny hole-in-the-wall establishment attached to a gas station called Jim's Coney Island. It looked a little sketch, but I was at Def Con 4 on the coney situation after watching Carmen Harlan scarf them down on national TV.

I read the reviews for Jim's and people said it was pretty authentic. They also said he had Faygo pop (that's soda, for those of you not blessed enough to be Midwestern), so right there I knew it would be good.

And it was. Aside from the fact that the bar stools were built for NBA players and not my short ass, everything was perfect. I had a coney with onions and mustard (the only way one eats a coney), chili cheese fries (which were good, but a little salty) and a Faygo Rock & Rye. I took a picture with my phone and sent it to my brother who thought I had somehow ended up in Detroit. No, but it was a close as I'd get at 11 a.m. on a Monday.

The food was good, and it's nice to know I have a place to score some Faygo and salt and vinegar Better Made chips with my coney dog. Cincinnati coneys are good for what they are, but Detroit coneys are a whole different beast.

Of course, I shouldn't be eating any of it because I'm on a diet. But homesickness does not know anything about calories. And it's neat to have someone to talk about the Red Wings and Ram's Horn and all things Detroit with.

Older

2011-05-22T18:08:00.002-05:00

So, yesterday was my birthday. I turned 35. Surprisingly, it was just like any other day, really. Except with cake.

Yesterday was busy. I had the Vision Walk in the morning. It was nice and a great success. Of course, I am really out of shape, but that's going to change very soon.

Starting this week, I am trying a 70 day plan. Losing weight would be nice, but I'll be fine regardless. I just want to be more fit. I don't like things being so jiggly. I'd love it if my clothes fit a little better.

I don't care how much I weigh really. I love myself. I don't worry about other people's judgments of me. It's taken me a really long time to realize that, but that's OK. But I'd like to live to see the other half of 70, and statistics show that people who exercise more than 20 minutes a day are healthier. So, it's time to stop being lazy. Although it's usually less lazy and more busy that keeps me from working out.

Although today, 110% lazy. I do have dinner in the oven, though. That's progress. Just don't ask if I am still wearing my pajamas at 6 p.m.

I'm headed to the shower as soon as I get done writing this. I thought you might all miss me.

I painted another painting last night. It's my brother's birthday present. It was the hardest one I've done, and it doesn't look great, so I hope he doesn't hate it.

I wish I could get motivated to go back to church. With Easter and the wedding, I was doing better, but now I am a little distressed by this report on the church's abuse history. It's never bothered me before, but blaming it on the 1960s? Really?

Because we all know from our lives that if you don't take responsibility for your actions, you can't improve your situation.

And when it comes to sexual abuse by priests, I can't even bear the thought of that.

I need to call work and find out my schedule for the week. I need to vacuum my house.

I need a nap.

Maybe this is what 35 feels like?

Catching up

2011-05-11T11:54:00.002-05:00

A million moons ago, Brad Paisley sang a song that went a little something like this:
"It's all because two people fell in love..."

That was the theme to last weekend.

I went back to Ohio for my baby brother's (he's 30, but he's still the youngest) wedding. It was a great weekend, but I am still worn out, three days later.

We all stayed at Burr Oak State Park, where we also had the reception. Everything was nice. The dining room overlooking the lake, our cabin overlooking the lake, catching up with family and friends. The weekend was a roaring success.

I think my brother and my new sister-in-law will be happy. They seem happy, so that's a good thing. And I got to see my other brother and sister-in-law and my precious little nephew, who can now say my name. Although he mostly just bosses me around.

Of course, after two whirlwind trips to Ohio, I won't get back for a while. First of all, I am officially out of vacation time at work. Second of all, it costs more than $50 to fill my gas tank right now, and the trip requires three fill-ups. So, I'll be staying close to home for at least a few months.

My birthday is coming up, and I wish I could be excited about turning 35. But I'm old, hormonal, and falling apart, and I really just want it to be another day. I've been so busy with the wedding that everything else has gone to the wayside, especially my Vision Walk fundraising. Maybe I can pull together some last-minute donations, so I'm not completely embarrassed. But it won't be today. I'm working until 10 tonight. That should be fun after a week and a half of no babyland.

After about 30,000 people this weekend asked me when I was getting married, it made me think about it. I told them, politely, that I wouldn't hold my breath, and that's pretty much where I stand. My track record has not been so great. Actually, my track looks a little more like a minefield. It's amazing that I have all my body parts.

Regardless of whether or not I have any desire to put up with men's nonsense, I do need to lose weight. Maybe not as much lose weight as take advantage of the good health benefits one gets from daily exercise. I need to get back to the gym and get back in a routine. It's hard working two jobs, but if I don't make time to take care of my body, it's going to stop working as hard as I ask it too. You have to put something in to get something back. And it's not about looking good or finding a spouse, it's just about making it one more day...

Maybe...

2011-05-02T13:28:00.002-05:00

...someone will give a shit about this mish-mash of a blog post.

May's theme is "Maybe." I guess the idea is to focus on how to turn your maybes into realities. Of course, maybe you didn't notice that it is already the second day of the month, yet I've only written one post for May. Maybe I can just start fresh today.

And, not to set myself up for failure, but I'm leaving on Thursday and I'll be gone for five days so my brother can get hitched. So, yeah, I guess I am setting myself up for failure.

I'm finally getting a second to breathe at work, which is part of why you are getting a blog post. It's hard to believe someone who used to eat, live and breathe a whole separate life on the computer barely turns the damn thing on these days. But, guess what? I'm reading books. Real ones. And they're good.

And I drink coffee and discuss them with strangers, which is fun.

Yesterday after church (a place I had not been in some time), I went out to Chris' and he changed my oil while I played playground, ice cream shop and tea party with Shelby. Sometimes when he smiles, I just wish we could go back where we were. The other night, we were talking and I told him that he's a good person and a good friend and sometimes he knows me better than myself, and he said the same for me. I concluded that we're still a good team; we're just playing a different game now.

I thought I'd be married by 35. Well, really, I thought I'd be married at 30, but I gave myself an extension. Now, with just 19 days to 35, I'm realizing that being single is OK. I don't have any desire to be married, and I've made my peace with the fact that I probably won't get to be a parent, although I haven't closed the door on the possibility of foster kids once I get a little more financially stable.

But, in some ways, I like being on my own. And right now I have roommates, but it'd be OK if I didn't. I even keep going back and forth about getting another cat.

I feel slightly compelled to write something about Osama Bin Laden being taken down by the Navy Seals, but I'm not nearly as optimistic as some, and I'm definitely not jubilant. Killing is bad, and we need less of it in this world. I still feel like there will be retaliation, and it surely didn't make our president more palatable to those who hate him. I just want to say, I may think George W. Bush is a moron and I may hate the way Republicans have divided this nation, but I don't hate any of them. In fact, I pray for them daily. But, this does not often seem like a courtesy that extends both ways.

I miss intelligent discourse. I miss the gentility of politics back in the day. Most days, politics and government in this country and the discourse (if you want to call it that) surrounding it make me a little nauseous. So, what should be an occasion for our country to band together and have national pride has just been a way for the haters to blame even more shit on the black guy.

It's been a year since Nashville's floods. For most people, things are back to normal. For many, things will probably never be "normal" again. I'm just glad the weather's been kind to us lately and pray for those to whom it has not.

The Fourth Estate

2011-04-21T08:41:00.004-05:00

You probably already know that yesterday, two photojournalists were killed in Libya. What you may not know is that one of them, Chris Hondros, was a graduate of the School of Visual Communication at Ohio University and an active alumnus. In fact, the director of the school told The Post yesterday that Hondros had delayed a presentation to the VisCom students to go back to Libya.

I was in Athens the same time Chris Hondros was. The VisCom students were in a separate school and tucked away from all the J-school students, so our paths probably didn't cross. I recognize his name, but it could be from seeing one of his photos around campus or something. It could also be because he was a Pulitzer-nominated, award-winning photojournalist.

But as we Bobcats mourn the loss of one of us, and as we journalists mourn a fallen member of the press, it gave me pause to think about my own journey and where I am and where I'll never be.

I've always been a good writer. When I was in 4th grade, I won a contest for a fiction short story, which was published in the local newspaper. I got to meet a real writer who critiqued my work, but when you're 8 years old, the most exciting part was that we got to have a hot school lunch, which was rare in Catholic school.

I'll never forget in 8th grade, we had an English assignment of writing a movie review. Everyday when my dad came home from work, I read his copy of the Detroit News, and the movie reviews were my favorite part. I read every single one, even though I could count the number of times I got to go to the theater on one hand. So, needless to say, the teacher wondered if my review was my own. She finally concluded that my work reflected my voracious love of reading.

By the time high school rolled around, I was reporting on the school newspaper and was the editor my senior year. I also got involved in a mentoring program at the local newspaper and did some writing for them, as well. Most of it never left the newsroom, but working with real reporters and editors was awesome.

At some point, I decided I wanted to be a foreign correspondent. I think it was when I went to Europe in high school. Of course, I spoke Spanish which meant my foreign correspondent assignments would probably not be in France or Italy. But, still when I arrived at journalism school, my advisor thought this was the perfect plan. And she gave me a little advice: Always keep your passport current.

But somewhere along the way, the lines got blurry. My career as a top-notch, objective reporter got waylaid when I decided to get political and fight for student financial aid. But now there's Fox News (ironically run by another Ohio grad) and MSNBC where the news personalities are actually political figures. Hell, even my longtime crush George Stephanapolous is now anchoring the morning news despite having been Bill Clinton's press secretary. So, the lines are blurry for me, and for journalism as a whole. And there's comfort in hanging your hat in the same place every night and knowing there'll be food on your table at night.

And, as wimpy as this sounds, there's a big advantage to not getting shot at when you go to work. (Although it can get a little dicey in the 'hood where we have our offices sometimes.)

I even let my passport expire, which was not good the time I was supposed to make a last-minute trip to Tel Aviv for work. Someone else had to go, and I went to get a new passport the following week.(Now I find my passport comes in handy for trips to Jost Van Dyke and Canada.)

I feel kind of like a jerk and a sell-out right now. I took the safe life with a cushy office job, and once in a while I interview someone about the latest and greatest innovations in caring for the elderly. The highlight of my career in recent years has been interviewing an up-and-coming country singer who wrote a song about Alzheimer's disease. And even though I'm not making friends with dissidents to topple a government with my investigative reporting, people still benefit from my wonderful press release on National Nursing Home Week.

I guess what I need to remind myself is that there are a lot more PR jobs out there than there are jobs for ace reporters traveling the globe. So, I'm not Anderson Cooper or Christiane Amanpour. I'm still talented and people still enjoy what I'm writing. In fact, when I recently announced that it was time to resurrect my half-finished novel, people went a little crazy with anticipation.

So, that's good even if I'm not going to be on CBS Evening News tonight. (But one of my PR clients was. In 2001. That's why I often tell people I reached the pinnacle of my career at 25.)

I don't believe that's true. I think I've got a lot more good to do, but I think I need to start doing it before I get any further behind with my notable elderly people.

Writing...

2011-04-14T21:57:00.002-05:00

One post a week?

Not great, but could be worse, I guess.

I am so swamped at work. I have 137 Who's Who nominations this year, and I've fact-checked, written summaries and scanned in photos for 30. Yikes. I see some extra hours in my future in the next week or so, but I'll get it all done. I always do. I could probably hammer them out in two solid days if people would just leave me alone. We'll see...

I'm going through some inner turmoil/internal debate on the journalist vs. writer vs. blogger dynamic. I think the reason this blog doesn't have ads or lots of followers or even frequent posts is because it's just me venting. I write for money at work. I don't know if I'm a journalist anymore. I don't deliberately slant my reporting, but hell, I don't get to report very much anymore. I sure as shit don't feel like Katie Couric on the rare occasions that I do get to interview someone.

Eventually I want to write fun stuff. I've thought about fiction and nonfiction projects, but they both require a lot of time. Lately I haven't even had time to READ books, let alone write them.

I know lots of folks out there are bloggers and they are getting paid for their content, and I'm not sure I hate that. Self-publishing is OK, but there's a lot of badly written shit out there too. Who knows? I'm sure there's people who think I'm no Hemingway.

I'm not. I know that. But I've learned reporting and writing from some of journalism's best. And I've always been a good writer. I was first published when I was in 4th grade. I wrote for the community newspaper and edited my high school paper in high school. In college, I switched to PR, but I still got a lot of pick-up on things that I wrote. I just didn't like the crowd at the campus paper. I just kind of did my own thing, but I'm way too political to be any type of objective journalist.

But realizing your bias is a good thing. Wouldn't it be great if some of the folks on our national news broadcasts did that?

I blog for therapy. I keep thinking of clever, themey blogs, but I always come back to this. It keeps me sane. It lets me vent. It helps me keep in touch with people.

That's not something people pay you for. In fact, I'm sure all the cell phone companies (and my therapist) would say it's the other way around.

Weekend

2011-04-08T16:35:00.004-05:00

Today's NaBloPo prompt was: What is one thing you are looking forward to this weekend?

One thing. Hmmm...

Sleep.

I'm not sure how much sleep I will get or when exactly I will get it, but I am looking forward to it. I need to rest.

This entire week, I have been writing magazine copy, taking and uploading photos (which are nowhere near being cropped and/or edited), and I've perused 137 biographies of notable nursing home patients that need to be entered into the computer and woven into press releases by the end of the month.

Did I mention that sometime in all of this fuss I have to design a magazine?

This is my busy time at work, and I'm nowhere near the frenetic levels that I will reach sometime between now and May 4th, when I head out of town for my brother's wedding.

Which reminds me...all of the shower invites need to be in tomorrow's mail.

I just want to sleep. One good night of uninterrupted sleep. Me, lots of pillows, cozy PJs and the sleep fairy. Put a pea under my mattress and don't wake me up until well after the sun comes out.

I'm not sure if this is going to happen or not, but I have high hopes. I have my fingers crossed. Because if I don't get to sleep this weekend, I am not sure when I'll get to sleep.

I'm really going to try to keep you all in the loop, but if you can't find me at my desk, chances are I'll be sleeping. Or at least dreaming about it.

Let them eat cake!

2011-04-07T11:55:00.004-05:00

I don't know if I've ever mentioned that I'm slightly obsessed with Marie Antionette (and I get it from my mother). Anyhow, my trip to Versailles when I was in high school was pretty amazing.

But, that's not what cake I'm talking about.

Last night, I finally broke down and took a cake-decorating course. I've been making yummy cakes and cupcakes for ages, but I'm not known for pretty desserts. I'm known for delicious desserts.

Wouldn't it be great if they were both?

The class was at a wine bar, so it's miraculous that I stayed sober enough to learn anything. I think that was because I was also trying to stay sober enough to not buy the $40 glass of Cakebread that was calling my name. (Stop looking at me like that. Doesn't your wine talk to you?)

Anyhow, I thought my cake looked pretty good. I did a little freehand rose, a cute pink border, some polka dots around the outside. My leaves looked just about perfect. I was satisfied.

Until I went on this cake website and saw all these other people post the pictures from their cake-decorating classes.

Holy hell, I suck.

However, my boss, who decorates and sells cakes for fun saw mine in the breakroom (Like I could eat a whole cake by myself...), and he said it wasn't bad. He said I had the basic techniques down, so I just needed to get some tools and practice, because it's mostly just trial and error.

So, now my inner Martha Stewart is clawing to get out. I want to go spend a fortune on fancy tips and decorating books and dyes and make some cakes.

I am going to weigh 17,000 pounds.

I already have some guinea pigs. And I've got some ideas. So, we'll see what happens.

Maybe it will be beautiful and delicious. Wouldn't that be nice?

yfrog Photo : http://yfrog.com/h86hrcjj

girl stuff

2011-04-04T22:23:00.000-05:00

This post is about nothing. Well, nothing except how much I hate cramps, moodiness, hormonal acne, ruining my clothes, and all the other fun stuff that comes with being old and hormonally imbalanced.

I almost forgot the migraines and the weight gain. And the weight gain sucks when you only want to eat chocolate and drink wine.

I'm miserable. My doctor just tells me i'm too old for hormones and dismisses my concerns. I am going to talk to my internist, but does anyone have any thoughts on what I can do to not be so miserable? Hormone issues are very real and unpleasant.

Quickie

2011-04-03T23:08:00.004-05:00

When you go so long, even a quickie will do. Right?

Today has been crazy; this whole weekend has, really.

Last night, I came home and promptly fell asleep on the couch. Today, I took a nap after work. Work was OK, except when I got criticized for getting a line when a 90-year-old woman decided to write a check for her great-great-granddaughter's crib. Really? I am pretty sure we should thank the heavens she was able to buy a crib and write a check and not worry about how long it took her.

In retail, as in life, I function under the "Do unto others as you would like them to do unto you" philosophy. It makes sense.

I came home and finally had St. Patrick's Day dinner. Corned beef roasted with cabbage, potatoes and carrots and my Bailey's Irish Cream brownies. My belly is full. We watched TV and now it's just about time to hit the hay. Busy, busy time at work starting tomorrow. I have all my Who's Who nominations, and this was our biggest year yet, plus our magazine goes to print in 3 weeks. I still have three articles to write. Hoping to finish them up tomorrow.

Not doing so well with the daily posting already, but I'm just dusting myself off and starting over. I guess that's "sprouting," right?

Toxic waste

2011-04-01T11:12:00.004-05:00

So today is the first day of April, and the first day for attempt #2 at National Blog Posting Month. This month's theme is "Sprout," and I'm feeling a journey of self-discovery coming on. After all, the very first writing prompt was:

"What are you ready to let go of?"

Wow, that is really a loaded question today. You see, I have a few people in my life who are toxic and it's time to phase them out.

The friend of a friend who calls Obama a Kenyan and makes other inflammatory and/or racist statements about the President? Nice knowing you. (OK, not really.)

The former roommate who has completely and totally taken advantage of me in too many ways to list here, but I kept offering friendship and compassion because I thought she was a nice person? Well, she acted in a way last night that made it quite obvious she is not a nice person, so it's time to cut her loose.

My friend back in Detroit who forwards me every crazy right-wing propaganda bullshit email in America? The one who votes for nuttos like Rick Snyder yet doesn't understand why she hasn't had a job since the auto industry tanked? The one who offends me to the marrow of my bones with her hatred of Latinos who are here both legally and illegally? Adios. (That's Spanish for "Don't let the door hit your ass on the way out.")

And there's one person I can't cut out completely, but her effect on me will be minimized as of right now. No more stinking thinking, no more listening to bullshit or temper tantrums. It's destructive; it's unproductive; it makes me feel bad. I don't need that in my life.

Last night, after the former roommate was a complete and total asshole to me, I had a thought. She is constantly giving out negative energy. She whines, she takes advantage, she bitches and moans, but she never does anything positive to counter all that negativity. Now, I don't believe in karma, but I do believe if you have no positive energy in your life for yourself and/or other people, you're going to get a lot less good out of life. The universe puts out what it takes in.

All our lives, we've heard toxic waste is bad. And it is. It's very harming to us emotionally, mentally and physically. Both in reality and metaphorically.

When you're a toxic person, you're wasting your life. You're wasting precious moments of your day that you can't ever get back. You're wasting them on comparing yourselves to others, gossipping, bitching, moaning, and just being unpleasant.

When life gets you down (whether it's real or perceived), work on how to get back up. Don't just lie on the ground and wallow in self-pity. That accomplishes nothing except wasting those precious moments. More toxic waste.

As we're talking about growth and renewal, I'm going to pull the weeds in my garden. I'm clearing out all the dead and clutter so that pretty flowers can bloom...and grow.

And, that's no April Fool's.

WTF?

2011-03-31T09:34:00.004-05:00

I swear on a stack of Bibles that last post had paragraphs when I wrote it. What the fuck is going on here, Blogger? Anyone? Bueller? Normally, I like Blogger. I really don't want to break up with it. But writers need paragraphs. Just like we need to spell properly. Urgh.

Editor's note: I went back in and added paragraphs. I'm starting to get pissed at Blogger, but how pissed will I have to get before we break up. Maybe I should try a new template?

Frantic, but fun

2011-03-31T09:02:00.003-05:00

So, today's writing prompt over at the National Blog Posting Month site says to use one word to describe how March went, and another word to describe what you hope to get out of April.

March was frantic. I'm hoping April will be fun.

About 20 zillion things have happened since we talked last. I went to Florida to catch some Major League Baseball (go get 'em, Tigers!) and spend quality time with my family and friends.

It was really great, even though I didn't get to the beach (Lance and Estela have a pool, so I still came back with a great tan) and, since I didn't get down to South Florida, I didn't get to catch up with my peeps in Miami-Dade. But, it was a good trip. Might try to get back at Christmas, but we'll see how my calendar works out.

Let's see...what else? Work has been busy. We just had our big Conference downtown this week, and a couple of our members asked me yesterday if I had gone to school for photography.

So, I told them the truth: that I went to college back in the days where you had to pay for your own photo and darkroom supplies, and I was way too poor for those classes. Isn't that lame? Anyhow, they told me they never would've guessed that I wasn't a trained photographer. That made me feel good. Almost as good as when the guy at work who is afraid of food that people bring into the office asked me if I would make a treat for everyone. That was definitely the ultimate compliment.

Life is grand right now. I'm staying really busy. My house is so close to looking presentable (well, except for my bedroom, but it is next on the list) that it's not funny. The downstairs is so ready for company that we've had two events just this week. Our Jane Austen Book Club met Sunday for book reading and movie watching, and the wine club met last night.

Through my new found love of The Twitter, I'm making lots of new blogger friends. I'm still a little distressed that my blog has no central theme. Well, except that this is a chronicle of the adventures of a semi-crazy, single gal living in the big city. I've always fancied myself to be like Carrie Bradshaw on "Sex and the City," so I guess that's my chance.

So, maybe life will slow down a little bit for April. I want to have fun, but I don't want to be dog tired and worn out from all the work. We'll see...

Oh, and the theme for April is "Sprout." Definitely appropriate, although it's cold as balls here right now. (Why do we say that? Balls aren't cold...) But anyhow, I'm hoping for some physical, emotional and spiritual gardening in April, so that's a good theme. As always, I'll do my best to post something, but I make no promises. This blog is totally like the mechanic's car up on blocks sometimes.

Failure

2011-03-08T11:07:00.002-06:00

This month's NaBloPoMo topic was to blog daily with a one-word subject describing your mood and where you were. Oops. I failed horribly, considering it's March 8. Although I was going to fail anyhow, because I am headed to Florida for some fun in the sun on Thursday and you know how I feel about computers in paradise. And blogging on my Blackberry sucks.

So, this is it until I return from the land of beaches and baseball.

Must. Get. A. Tan.

I am excited to see Juanito. He was looking very grown up on the Joe's Crab Shack website today. Let me tell you, that bebito is a LEGEND already.

I am always excited to see my family these days. I miss them. Gary and Kori aren't able to come, but I will get to see them next month for Kori's shower.

Things are gearing up for the Vision Walk too. Not getting much interest in my team, but I'm hoping to raise a lot of money. It will hurt not having the breakfast this year, but I will still try to get some money raised. Every year I say I'm going to plan all year, and I never do. I just get so busy.

But you all knew that. You poor, dear readers knew that I get busy and neglect things. I will try harder when I get back. I promise.

Because lots of assholes who can't write are getting followings on their blogs and get to write books. Real books that make money. Because they have followers. So, perhaps I should pay more attention to this blog and actually write something worth reading. (I will also say, there are lots of GREAT bloggers who may or may not have book deals. I'm just mystified by this whole "If you build it, they will come" philosophy to writing.)

Speaking of great writing, I got to interview an up-and-coming country star yesterday and the piece turned out really well. I am super excited about it.

But, honestly, having a job that I love where I get to write and be creative and have health insurance is good. I have a feeling life can be better, but right now it doesn't suck.

I'll see you all in a week or so. I'm going to the beach.

I've been busy

2011-02-27T23:14:00.002-06:00

So, life has been busy around here. We started a Jane Austen Book Club, which is a great success and is keeping me reading, along with my other book club. I also learned how to make scones, and people proclaimed them the best scones ever.

I also accidentally ended up as the leader of my wine group, which so far has just meant drinking a lot of wine.

However, my wine-drinking days may be limited, because I really need to lose weight. I hate gaining weight and I just can't take it anymore. I know I will never be thin, but mostly I don't want to buy new pants.

We'll see how it goes. I'm not committing to anything, but I'm going to try more.

I was told this week to blog what I know. I am going to start doing that, but I really hope I don't scare folks off.

Oh, and P.S.

2011-02-16T10:53:00.003-06:00

My health insurance signed a 3-year agreement with St. Thomas Health Services yesterday, so I guess I am allowed to get sick if I need to.

This is good, because yesterday I realized that the food poisoning I got from salmon many moons ago was probably actually a salmon allergy. I took some Benadryl and stayed out of the urgent care clinic this time, but needless to say, my days eating salmon are over. That's sad, because it was pretty delicious. Well, until I had my head buried in a trash can at work. Then it just sucked.

Other than that, health is good. However, you'll read in my next post that it's time to lose weight. Several reasons: a) I'm earning a trip to Vegas. b) My clothes are too tight and I can't afford to replace them and c) people in health care should look healthy, even though I suspect some of them are -- to quote my Uncle Donny -- "fat on the inside."

It's all we can do

2011-02-16T10:49:00.001-06:00

One thing that I have learned in my almost 35 years on earth is that there is a real danger in comparing yourself to others. If you get caught up on who’s skinnier, has more money, has the same amount of money for doing less work, and so on, you can really harm yourself and damage personal and professional relationships.

I just don’t do it. I don’t like it. I don’t think it’s productive, and I avoid that type of thinking like it’s the plague.

However, when it’s all around you, it’s hard to not let it drag you in. I have a co-worker who constantly compares herself to others and worries about what they have versus what she has, etc. I don’t even know how much vacation time I have, so I surely don’t worry about who else has vacation time or how or when they are using it. The only time I care is if someone is about to embark on an adventure and I need something before they go. Otherwise, it’s not my business.

Those of you who have been reading my blog for a long time or perhaps have known me for a while know that learning how to mind your own business and not worry about what others have or what they are doing has been a very painful lesson for me to learn. It’s something that’s made me stronger and smarter and a lesson I think everyone probably learns with age, so I’m glad I learned it sooner than later, I guess. It still took a lot of tears and self-loathing to get to a point in my life where I realized that the only person I can control is myself, and no one else really matters on that journey.

Comparing myself to others and never stacking up probably didn’t help me with the disordered eating that plagued me in the past. And still, our society wants you to compare yourself to others when it comes to weight and physical appearance, and that’s frightening. So many people are engaging in unhealthy activities because they want to look like the unrealistic, airbrushed beauties they see in magazines. I think dating is frustrating to me because guys seem to be totally caught up in these unrealistic images.

I just don’t want to go back there and engage in that kind of thinking. I know how much money I make, I know how much work I do. If I looked it up, I would know how much vacation time I have. I just want to come to work and do my job and not worry about my coworkers. I don’t want to get eaten up with worry about who makes more and who went to the doctor without getting docked from their sick time. Frankly, I’m way too busy to let that eat me up for half the day.

And, as far as looks, I’m not 12. I don’t need to compare myself to others like I’m in junior high. Yeah, there are a lot of people out there thinner than me. But, try as I might, I’m not ever going to be rail thin or a size 2. My body just isn’t made that way. And you know what? For a lot of people, they're just airbrushed to look that way. And, as a friend once said, never underestimate the power of Spanx. However, I did realize yesterday that it’s a tad bit hypocritical for someone who is not a healthy weight (although somehow, I pass my yearly physicals with flying colors) to work in the health care industry. I do need to set an example, so I am going to have to lose some weight.

But that’s not me comparing myself to others. That’s me working hard to be the best that I can professionally and personally.

After all, that’s all we can really do.

Well, this sucks.

2011-01-20T08:45:00.003-06:00

I don't know if you've all noticed, but I absolutely, positively hate the for-profit health care system in this country.

And surprisingly, this post is not actually about all the dickwads in Congress who just voted to repeal our first attempt at fixing our system since FDR was president. Assholes. I'm going to vote to take away their health insurance, too -- by working for their opponents in the next election.

This post is actually about the cocksuckers who run my health insurance company over at United Healthcare. (Yes, I'm putting their name in here in case they Google themselves. They deserve to know how much they are loved. And I'm not saying anything inaccurate, so they can't do anything to me.)

You see, it's been three years since their last pissing match with the hospital where all my doctors are. And it's really not looking good, although I have yet to get the "your-doctors-are-such-big-meanies-that-we-can't-work-with-them-anymore-so-we-hope-you-don't-get-sick" letter.

I am going to go out on a limb and say it. I don't think I have written about it here before, but I went to Vanderbilt doctors once and left crying. I really don't see myself as committing to their health system anytime soon. My one experience at Centennial hospital when I hurt my face wasn't horrible, but they really fucked me over with that whole lawsuit thing, so I would prefer not to go back there.

But most importantly, I love my doctors. My GP is awesome, my ophthalmogist and my OB/GYN are all exceptional. They know my medical history and are concerned for my wellbeing. And, they're all at Baptist Hospital, which was completely intentional on my part. If something happens to me or I need some type of surgery or medical stay, I want to go to Baptist.

So, what's going to happen if my hospital doesn't let United rape them in the name of profits is that there will be no point in going to my doctors because if something happened to me, they wouldn't have privileges at the hospitals I'd have to go to. So, yes, this really sucks.

And, I think you've all been here long enough to know what I'll do if I can't go to my doctors. I'll just stop going. Rather than find new doctors, I will just not go. Maybe I'll get really sick and need to go to the emergency room, and then I probably won't care that I have to go to Vanderbilt. But my six month blood work, annual exams and and check-ups? Nope, not looking for three new doctors for that. I'll just go back to being a ticking time bomb.

I don't like change. From before I was born until I was 30 years old, I went to the same doctor -- the son of the man who delivered me. The three of them (the dad and his two sons) had a family practice not far from where we lived back in Michigan. I went to the dad when I was a baby and then his sons after they graduated from medical school. They took care of me and they knew me. And, in the last five years I've built that with my doctors here.

I shouldn't have to change.

But, then again, the insurance company shouldn't take 600 bucks a month for my premiums and then STILL demand concessions from my providers, especially since they just raised my copays. What exactly does insurance pay for?

So, by not going at all, that means that not a dime of my 600/month goes toward my care. That'll make a nice bonus for some insurance executive.

Oh, well. At least I'm doing my part.

And at least my Congressman is one of the good guys who stood up for us yesterday. Seriously, if your representative voted against health care reform you should be pissed. We need a government-run plan. I know people are against big government and yadda yadda blah blah blah, but I'd take my chances with big government if I have to choose between them and big business anyday. Even the current crop of shitty public servants we have are better than some bean counter trying to create record profits at the expense of our health.

Just think of it that way. It's not doctors, it's accountants, who are calling the shots with our medical care. It's not a commitment to quality, it's the almighty dollar, that is the ultimate decider in what care we get and where we get it.

How's that better than what they have in Canada?

Please someone explain that to me while I cancel all my doctors' appointments for next month. And then say a little prayer that I stay healthy.

Rising up

2011-01-18T14:09:00.003-06:00

I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: "We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal." - Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

Yesterday, I think we all reflected on the work of Dr. King and the changes our country has seen. Yet, not only are there still mountains to climb in race relations, but there are so many other areas of injustice that we've not only declined to address but some people still think are OK.

Sunday at work, a whole bunch of college girls came into work to shop for a baby shower. As I was talking to them I learned that they were Belmont soccer players and they were all on their way to Lisa Howe's baby shower.

And that made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

(If you're not sure why I care about Lisa Howe and her baby shower, click on her name and look at what comes up when you Google her.)

Unfortunately, the warm and fuzzy feelings lasted for about 20 seconds, because then I realized that our country is still filled with evil, dangerous, bigoted people. And these people are not only not feeling warm and fuzzy about Coach Howe's baby shower, but they are also not feeling warm and fuzzy about the fact that she, along with other gay folks, feel like they should have rights.

Yes, in 2011, there are people who still feel like human beings should be denied basic rights based on who they are. Gov. Tim Pawlenty says he's running for president and one of the first things he'd do if elected is repeal the recent overturning of the military's Don't Ask Don't Tell policy. Rep. Casada and my newly elected state Representative, Mr. Gotto, have formed a group to fight the Metro anti-discrimination ordinance that was proposed after Coach Howe's firing. Rep. Casada even went as far as to say that it's not government's place to tell businesses with whom they must do business.

Do you know what that reminded me of?

Back in 1964, the United States Congress passed a law requiring workplaces and "facilities serving the general public" to stop discriminating against race. And I think today, 25 years and one day after the establishment of Martin Luther King Day, we'd all agree that was a pretty good idea. Or at least I'd hope we do. I know people sure were up in arms when Rand Paul said he didn't support that landmark piece of legislation.

Yesterday on Oprah, she did a restrospective of her shows on race over the last 25 years in honor of Dr. King's legacy. On one of those shows, she had the Little Rock Nine and some of the white folks who had gone to school with them. Those white students, now grown up, all renounced racism later on in life and were mortified by their actions. They cried and begged the black students to forgive them for their comments, actions and even their indifference. At the end of the show, they all hugged and talked about how far our country had come since those days so many years ago.

And our country, for the most part, has come a long way since those days. Or at least I used to think that it had until Obama ran for president and I realized how many racist people are still out there. To some extent, I think even people who are "OK" with people who are different than them are not really OK with people different than them being in charge. It's sad.

But, I can't help but wonder: Will there be a day when all of these people who denounce gays, treat them poorly, fire them from their jobs, etc., come together with them and apologize?

I know people hide behind religion and say that people choose to be gay. And to those people I ask, when did you choose to be straight? No one chooses whom to love. Trust me, I have had in-depth conversations with many gay people on this topic, and they don't choose. Just like we didn't choose to be straight. And regardless, God makes us all and He doesn't make junk.

How can anyone claim to be a Christian and fire a woman because she has a baby on the way? Because now she has no job and a baby on the way. She had no performance issues. She lost her job because of who she is. If she had been fired because of her skin or eye color, there'd be a lot more people pissed off about it. And, I'd like to think that even in Tennessee, a lawmaker wouldn't have the balls to stop a law aimed at discriminating against people for those reasons.

I've said a million times that all of my political opinions stem from one sentence: What Would Jesus Do?

Jesus dined with prostitutes and tax collectors. Jesus healed the blind and lame. Jesus loved everyone.

I just don't believe that Jesus wouldn't love someone because of whom they love. I can't believe Jesus would begrudge two wonderful people of being exceptional parents because of their genders.

Of course, I think Jesus would also be cool with a black president.

Yesterday, much like everyone else on Twitter, I tweeted a favorite quote by Dr. King. Mine was: "Freedom is never voluntarily given by the oppressor; it must be demanded by the oppressed."

Yet when gays demand freedom, we say they are in our faces flaunting their sexuality. Yeah, because straight people never do that. When a guy has a picture of his wife and kids on his desk, why isn't that "flaunting his sexuality"? Because that's what people said about Lisa Howe. If she hadn't "flaunted her sexuality" she'd still have a job. Since when is telling people that you and your significant other are expecting "flaunting your sexuality"?

Really? I'm waiting.

Everyone in this country who is oppressed -- the poor, those without healthcare, immigrants, those who look different, GLBT people, the disabled -- everyone needs to rise up. And those of us who support them cannot be silent. I would rather step on toes now by standing up against injustice than to be the person 40 years from now who has to apologize for just standing there and letting it happen.

Jesus never did that. In fact, Jesus told us: "Whatsoever you do to the least of my people, that you do unto me." So, just like I proclaim the Lord's good works and profess my faith, I stand up for my brothers and sisters who have no voice.

After all, it's all about "What Would Jesus Do?"

[Sidebar: What a crappy little blogger I am. Oops. Anyhow, I think I am back in business. And, since 2011 is the year that I reinvent myself professionally and personally, there will be more stuff coming soon.

And by soon, I mean right after I de-Christmas my house and run the vacuum. But soon, I promise. Not just to you but to my roommate, as well.

One of the things that I'm going to be embarking on is actually making my novel into a novel. I have a start of it in my brain, and we'll see where it takes me. After talking to some professional colleagues today, you'll probably all see it first. Like I said, stay tuned. You are all about to witness greatness.

Or, at least, better-than-averageness.]

Garth

2010-12-23T11:05:00.003-06:00

I am too tired to post anything else about last night on the Internet, so you have to go to this post on my much-neglected music blog to read about the concert last night and really my old-geezer commentary on the music industry in general.

The man. The myth. The legend.

I need to do more with the music blog. Album reviews. Go to more shows. Maybe not bitch so much about how these young whipper-snappers have nothing on Merle Haggard.

Maybe that's my new year's resolution.

I also think that I am going to hop on over to my cooking blog and post about the mulling spices I made for my coworkers.

Posts on all three blogs in one day? Oh God, the Internets may explode from the excitement.

I am going to try to post either tomorrow or Saturday, but just in case I don't get to, I hope you all have a safe and happy Christmas.

Not so hooteriffic

2010-12-22T13:36:00.003-06:00

Sorry about totally bailing on NaBloPoMo. I just got busy with the holidays, but you all told me this would happen. I am trying to keep up the best I can. Luckily most of my work projects are done and it's quiet around here.

Perhaps it's so quiet that no one noticed that our lunch took two hours today? I hope so, but I'm still pissed that we couldn't even get dessert.

When I first started working here, one of the girls in the office went to Hooters every Tuesday with the guy who worked on our computers. Not long after I arrived, he got canned. And while we don't go every Tuesday, I have picked up his slack and accompany her to Hooters. It doesn't hurt that I love Daytona wings like it's my job.

Every year, we go to lunch at Hooters right before Christmas. We call this lunch our "Hooters Holiday Extravaganza." We go, have lunch, exchange gifts. Fun times. The last two years we've gathered up others from the office to join us. Our only two rules are: You're not allowed to share a dessert (you have to eat the whole thing), but sharing of fried pickles is highly encouraged. Whatever we end up eating, it always ends up being a lot of fun.

I got hooked on Hooters' food back when I had a friend who worked for them. Everything tastes great, and they really do buy their food from quality sources. Their seafood is actually pretty awesome. And most of the girls there are pretty sweet.

However, I will not lie and say there are not challenges to bringing your own hooters to Hooters. While some waitress are a lot of fun and treat us like everyone else, others assume that because we aren't there to stare at their tits or try to touch their ass that we aren't going to tip as well as the horny businessmen. And that generally translates into shitty service.

Yet, the good times outweigh the bad and, in the past, the holiday extravaganza has gone off without a hitch. Today was a whole different story.

I don't know if our waitress was new or stupid or paid more attention to the guys. It was hard to make an assessment of someone who said about 4 words to us and we only saw three times in the two hours that we were there. Yes, I said two hours. And yes, we were on our lunch HOUR, not "hours." And that two hours was such a clusterfuck that we didn't even get dessert.

So, I am probably a little grumpy. You know how fat kids are when you don't let them have cake.

But, in addition to not being able to order dessert because of the slower-than-molasses service, we also had checks and meals that were completely and totally FUBAR, not to mention that I got overcharged because she told me the lunch special listed on the menu as Monday-Friday, 11-3, was only available on Friday. Once again, stupid? New? No one really knows...

I didn't want to tip her, but Shay said something about it being Christmas, so I felt bad. So I gave her 10 percent, but when you figure that she overcharged me by $3.20 plus tax, then really I probably gave her way too much money.

I wish my friend still worked for Hooters' corporate office, because I'd be calling her faster than you can say "disgruntled customer." But she doesn't. I looked through my e-mail to see if I still had her e-mail with the name and contact info for the owner of that particular Hooters (from the time they told me they didn't have Daytona wings), but I must've deleted it. I guess after four years of relatively good luck, I wasn't expecting such a horrific lunch there.

I guess it would piss me off less if we didn't still have one more week with our time-card Nazi boss who was waiting for us when we arrived back at the office (As far as I know, no one from our group got yelled at, but another group of late lunchers did.). Two hours isn't acceptable for lunch during the work day. And they weren't any busier than any other day when they get us in and out in an hour. Trust me, it's not that hard to make some wings and fries.

Plus I got overcharged. I think that pisses me off almost as much as being late to get back to work. I always go there and get the exact same thing, so I have no idea why the fries didn't come free with the wings today. Plus I got charged for blue cheese that never quite made it to the table, despite me asking for it twice before I gave up. But considering it took 45 minutes to get our checks, there was no way in hell I was questioning it. I didn't have another half hour to spare while she tried to figure it out.

I'm trying to decide if I should call the manager. I hesitate because they were not helpful during the Daytona wing fiasco of 2006. However, there's a lot of turnover in food service. It could be a different person now. I did leave a passive-aggressive comment on Twitter in which I tagged Hooters. I guess I would probably bitch if I thought it would help. But, at the end of the day, I'll probably still be overcharged and even more frustrated and grumpy than I already am.

Oh well, I guess I will stew on it until the lunch rush is over. I know better than to call a restaurant manager when they are busy.

At least I get to see Garth Brooks tonight. If I could figure out how to make my own Daytona wings, I'd probably just break up with Hooters, but I haven't quite figured it out yet.

Did you miss me?

2010-12-20T08:49:00.003-06:00

So, when I fall off the wagon, I really fall off the wagon. I missed two more days of blogging! I'm sitting down here to write who-knows-what. I need to write all kinds of things I know about (and a few I don't) for work, but I am feeling the urge to procrastinate. My pile is finally a manageable size, so I guess that is a good thing.

I had so many things I wanted to discuss. I went to my roommate's master's degree graduation on Saturday, and it reminded me of my graduation and college and all that stuff, so I had been tempted to walk down memory lane. The alma mater was also in a bowl game on Saturday, which was exciting, except that they lost. Although had I known there was a ticket and hotel deal for $40, I might have been drinking daiquiris and eating muffalettas down in Nawlins with them.

I started my holiday baking which seems like a more insurmountable task with each passing year. So far, I have Snickers fudge, which is super rich; rum balls, which are super boozy and delicious; oatmeal scotchies, which never turn out just right; and caramels, which need to be cut and wrapped in waxed paper. Tonight I plan to make peanut blossoms and thumbrints and get the dough ready for the crinkle cookies. Everything will be done tomorrow night, but that means that people getting them in the mail aren't going to have them for Christmas.

I am going to see Garth Brooks tonight and again on Wednesday. I figure since I haven't seen him since college I might as well stock up in case it's another 12 years before I see him again. Lance was going to come up, but he's busy with his last week working in Miami and couldn't get away. I know it makes sense for them to live in the house they own at least while the housing market sucks, but I sure will miss crashing on their couch so close to the beach. Luckily I have Toma and Tara who have a guest room for me, and I know where I can stay on South Beach for $50/night. Because let me tell you, I need a beach break more than you can even imagine.

That's why we're thinking about a trip to St. John next fall if we can swing it. I hope we can. I miss my friends and the cheap rum and the beach and boat rides and conch fritters and views and villas. I need my little island in the middle of nowhwere. I guess in the meantime, I'll just make a painkiller and listen to Jimmy Buffett. The rum balls I made will help.

It's weird not rushing to get out of town for Christmas, but it's expensive doing two trips in a month. And, really, now that I've got it decorated and almost cleaned (although that's what I will be doing on my days off in the next week), I am looking forward to spending Christmas in my own house.

Bad blogger

2010-12-17T14:34:00.002-06:00

I didn't post yesterday. I have been so busy lately, running 900 miles a minute, actually doing work at work. Yes, life is rough. And I completely and totally forgot to post yesterday.

And, truthfully, the only reason I am posting right now is because I am about to fall asleep sitting at my desk so I don't think assignments that require a lot of reading would be the best choice right now.

The worst part about all of this is that I volunteered to work tonight. Although my could-be hernia seems to be acting up right now. It feels like I have a really bad stitch in my side. Speaking of work, toyland told me that I could come in and close next week, but I heard on the news that they are not closing until 10 p.m. Christmas eve (yes, from Tuesday until 10 p.m. Christmas eve. Crazy.), so I'm not sure what that is all about.

I can't even see straight. I really need some rest. Maybe I can locate some caffeine in these parts. Remind me to never get up at 5 a.m. to make a cake again. It has been a really long time since I've been this tired.

So, I missed a day of blogging, and the world kept spinning. I'm not sure if it's helped me to write everyday anyhow. My life is pretty boring, and 75 percent of the time I don't have time to develop any type of story idea. But still, stringing words into sentences and paragraphs and pages is good.

My roommate wants to have a New Year's party. I haven't ever had a new year's party before. I'm not sure who would come to such a thing. We'll see...

I will try to find something charming, insightful, funny, something to say over the weekend.

AGGGHHHHH!!!

2010-12-16T00:33:00.003-06:00

So, I was so busy today (yes, it's still Wednesday because I haven't slept yet), that I almost forgot to write today.

I like my new boss. He's a visionary. We need vision. And he has a good sense of humor. That's good too. Plus, he thinks we don't get enough time off for Christmas, which I think is exceptional if he will fix it. Yes, this is all good.

Speaking of good, I got the part for the hot water heater under warranty today and I am looking forward to a nice, warm shower in the morning. Thank goodness I looked the part up on the manufacturer's website or I might not have known it was still under warranty.

Everything is shaping up at the homestead. It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas.

I need a nap. Tomorrow's another busy day.

Motivation

2010-12-14T22:04:00.002-06:00

I just can't get motivated this year. I have boxes of Christmas stuff everywhere and I just can't get the trees put up and get everything situated. You think I would want to in my new house, but it's not going very well. Any ideas on how to get in the Christmas spirit? You'd think that all the snow would help.

I'm just tired. I don't have a lot of energy. I am having a hard time keeping up. My house looks like a war zone.

If I don't have it done this weekend, I am not sure that I will see the point. I'm hoping I'll get a lot done tomorrow. Fingers crossed.

Toy time!

2010-12-13T21:44:00.002-06:00

So, today on Yahoo there was a list of the "Top 20 toy fads we can't believe we bought into." As somewhat of a toy expert, I feel compelled to address this important issue.

I agreed with some of their observations. Zhu Zhu pets, Silly Bandz and Tamagotchis were all toy fads that seem to have fizzled out.

Some of them, like Pokemon, Cabbage Patch Kids, Ouija Boards and Skip It started out as fads and probably don't deserve the shelf life they've received, but they've really outlived fad status.

But perhaps the toys I disagreed with the most were a few that I consider classics and not fads at all. In fact, it pissed me off a little someone would have the nerve to include these in a list of fads they feel a little swindled by. These toys included Pick-up sticks, an Easy Bake Oven, Barbies, Legos and the Magic 8 Ball. Those toys were some of my favorites and, frankly, toys that I would still play with at age 38.

I remember my Easy Bake Oven. I not only had the yellow one that looked like a microwave (it was the 80s), but I had a special Holly Hobbie Easy Bake oven that I bought at my church rummage sale for what I'm guessing was my lunch money. I loved Holly Hobbie, and that Easy Bake Oven was my prized possession. And while the little cakes and cookies you make with that thing are pretty gross, I'm sure that it fueled my passion for baking and cooking at a young age. I remember when I moved up from Easy Bake Oven to real oven. The results were equally unappetizing. But luckily my culinary skills are much improved 26 years later.

I loved Barbies too. As Christmas approaches, I'm always reminded of my best Christmas present ever, which was the Barbie Dream House. You see, my cousins had one and I really wanted one, but we could never afford it. So one year they came out with a Barbie cottage that only cost $30 to the $150 for the Barbie Dream House. I asked for it instead. And then the Tuesday before Christmas my dad won over $2,000 on the lottery. Being a kid, I didn't really understand why he'd been so excited that day, but I sure was excited when I came on Christmas and saw the box for the Dream House at the bottom of the stairs. I probably played with my Barbies a lot longer than was cool, but I hated to part with that house. The ones they make now aren't nearly as cool as mine was.

What was your favorite Christmas present? What's your all-time favorite toy and why?

Time flies by

2010-12-12T20:43:00.003-06:00

Anyone know where the weekend went?

I got a lot done but still much to do. The weather is awful and work is delayed until 10 a.m., because, of course, the office isn't going to be closed.

The ride home was rough. I bought all my Christmas baking supplies. I unpacked my Christmas decorations, but who knows when I will get it all done.

I'm about ready for bed tonight. The drive home was frightening, and I think it wore me out.

You do what you gotta do

2010-12-11T23:05:00.002-06:00

I almost forgot to post today. I have been unpacking the monster pile of shit from storage and reorganizing so I can finally decorate for Christmas.

But while I was unpacking, I found some photos from a few years ago. In the summer of 2003, I was at my lowest weight since high school. I found some photos from the Kappa Phi convention and TOPS conventions those years.

I looked amazing back then. I guess I didn't realize it, but I looked amazing.

And now I am too fat for my fat pants.

Starting tomorrow, it's a whole new me. It's time. I want to be that girl again. It'll take me 80 pounds to be that girl again, but surely I can do it.

I don't have to be thin, and the reality is that I'll never be thin, but I do need to be thinner than I am.

Who knew that some photos that have been in storage for five years would wake me up?

But I'm sure glad they did.

I have no intentions to make this a diet and fitness blog. I have no desire to be obsessed with diet and fitness (remember my post from the other day?), but I do need to make a clean break and get back to the gym. I know I can do it, and I deserve it.

Wonder if there's a TOPS meeting in these parts?

Cookie time

2010-12-10T09:50:00.002-06:00

This is my list of Christmas baking that I will start this weekend. Am I missing anything?

For the work cookie exchange: pumpkin drop cookies with icing.

Candy: snickers fudge, potato candy, caramels

Cookies: snickerdoodles (red and green), thumbprints, chocolate chip, oatmeal scotchies, chocolate crinkles, Mexican wedding cakes, rum balls, peanut butter blossoms, cut-out cookies.

Midnight oil

2010-12-10T08:39:00.003-06:00

I have always been a night owl. When I was growing up, my dad had to be at work at 5 a.m., so that meant he left the house at 4:30. In the summer months, I would sit up on the couch and watch TV until almost time for him to wake up. Sometimes I would pretend I was asleep while he got ready for work so I didn't get in trouble for staying up so late.

In high school, I would get home from my part-time job at 10 p.m., do my hours of homework and then be on the bus by 7:15 the next morning.

In college, I would go out to the bars (usually O'Hooley's, the Junction or the Pub. Or all three) after Student Senate meetings, stay out until last call, grab something from the Burrito Buggy and drop people off at dorms and houses all the way down to old Building 38. Then, I'd be on the copy desk by 7:30 a.m. to edit the paper the next day (or later that day, really...).

Even in my adult life, there have been times that I've barely made it home in time for work. But, I get to work and my job doesn't suffer. I do, however, find that as I get older these days are fewer and farther between. I definitely couldn't run every Friday on three hours of sleep like I did in college. I also couldn't go three days without sleep like I did when we were finishing our final projects for Campaigns and Elections and Civil Liberties classes.

Yet, I still have my late nights. And I like to think I'm not as old as I feel. I surprise myself sometimes. Last night, for example, I worked until 10:30 but had to make a layer cake for my roommate, who goes to work at 6 a.m., to take with her this morning. So, I was up until 1:30 and got back up at 5:30 to put the final touches on it. And I feel fine, although I did practically make out with the boy who gave me my latte at Starbucks this morning.

So, even though I tend to be a night owl, especially when I don't have anywhere to be the next morning, you would think I could put up with someone else doing it. And, for the most part, I can.

But it's starting to get really old doing my dishes before bed every night and waking up with a sinkful the next morning. I like to go to bed with a clean house because it gives me a feeling of accomplishment. And frankly, I am getting too old to wash dishes that magically appeared overnight while I wait for my car to warm up.

Our other roommate is sweet, but she's a musician who does the whole restaurant gig when she doesn't have music gigs. She keeps odd hours, even by my standards. Because even if I'm up at 1 a.m., I am watching TV or reading, not dirtying every dish in the house to make what appeared to be a multi-course meal. And when I lived in other people's houses, I wouldn't dare be up in the kitchen all hours of the day, because I would have felt horrible if I'd woken them up. Plus, we've already determined that I like to have a clean kitchen when I go to bed. (And my mom -- and the roommates of my youth -- will tell you it's taken me a long time to get to that point in my life.)

Often here in town, you see ads for housing by musicians looking for other musicians. Or people saying "I'm not really looking for a musician for a roommate..." I'm not saying that I don't like having a musician for a roommate, but I am saying I can why those advertisements exist now. I would guess that other musicians might have similarly suited schedules. They are probably more acclimated to late-night jam sessions and just general overnight rambling than your average flack and graduate student. Although I do believe I have been pretty forthcoming with the fact that we're both getting older, have to get up early and are well past our late-night partying days.

How late is late? Have I become an old fuddy-duddy? Perhaps this is true. But sometimes you have to be a fuddy-duddy when you are working two jobs to pay the mortgage, a car note, an assload of student loads. You know, all that real life stuff...

Funny thing. I wasn't devastated when my little musician pal with this late-night texts stopped texting. Girl needs to sleep, and even though he's hardly starving, I still felt like a) he should sleep and b) he should do a little more with his time. Don't get me wrong, it'd rock if someone would give me $2 million bucks for 90 minutes of my time, but they won't, so it's best if people don't text me at 4 a.m., you know?

And while he woke me up with his texts, at least he didn't steal my cheese out of the fridge while I was at work.

And sometimes he told me cool stuff that other people didn't know yet. That was neat. But still, I never felt like he understood "real life" and how the common folk lived. I chalked it up to him being in his own, little, super-rich-people world, but now I am beginning to think that all musicians, regardless of level of success, live in that same place.

"Lies make the baby Jesus cry!"

2010-12-09T12:11:00.002-06:00

So, I was stuck, and I packed up my Writer's Block the day we thought we were all going to get canned at work. I decided that since I had to post, I'd go over to the NaBloPoMo website and see what today's writing prompt was.

Here it is:
What one thing are you often tempted to lie about? When do you think it's okay to lie?

That didn't really help at all, because I still don't have much to talk about. Much like Todd Flanders on The Simpsons, I think "Lies make the baby Jesus cry." (How's that for a holiday tie-in?) I don't believe there's ever a good time to lie. I believe it's important to tell the truth.

Someone once told me that if you always tell the truth, you only have to remember one story.

Maybe I'm too old to keep my stories straight. Or maybe, and this is probably closer to it, I have gotten burned by so many pathologically lying sociopaths that I have taken an all-or-nothing approach to honesty.

So, yes, sometimes this means that I have to pretend I didn't hear someone ask me if their jeans make their butt look too big. Or when my roommate asked me if I was mad the other day, I cleaned it up and said, "There's no point in being mad now; let's just say I'm frustrated." I don't lie, but sometimes I try to soften the blow, so to speak. I might be candid, but I'm not cruel. I think that's an art we could all benefit from.

There's just no excuse for making things up. What you think might be a harmless white lie or a tale that no one will ever find out isn't true can end up causing serious damage. Didn't I just talk about that yesterday when I wrote about breaking up with friends? There is a person that I have not talked to in years, nor do I have any inclination of talking to ever again, whose messes I am still cleaning up, simply because the truth evaded her. I don't know if she had mental problems or just wanted to be cool, but constantly explaining your association with her and how it affected your perception of reality gets old. Honestly, she should probably thank God everyday that I don't know how to contact her, or I would've last time I got my ass reamed for her lies. I should share the joy, shouldn't I?

Lies hurt people. The truth always prevails and hearts are broken and relationships are wrecked. And, even if you think you might hurt someone telling the truth, I can promise you that lies hurt a million times more.

So, I found something to write about after all. I don't even lie about my weight. I just won't tell you, so don't ask. Ever.

Distractions

2010-12-08T11:55:00.003-06:00

I am sitting here trying to decide if I want something to eat. I still don't feel great, and I'm not really sure I'm hungry. And, based on a mass office e-mail about the state of affairs in the shared refrigerator, I'm guessing that the brown-bag lunch I brought on Monday did not survive my bout with "the plague" either.

So, here I sit, spending my lunch hour blogging. (There it is again! "Blog" as a verb. I give up!) I'm not sure this is the wisest choice since I am having limited success accessing my Twitter feed on the work computers these days. Perhaps they've realized this is yet another way employees amuse themselves during the day.

Amusement, of course, is strictly prohibited in these parts. Nevermind that almost 70 percent of all businesses use Facebook AND some businesses are exclusively using it to communicate with consumers. Or that I got an e-mail on Monday with the 10 FB pages all PR professionals should "like." Not this gal. We practice PR in a vacuum that is firmly entrenched in the Dark Ages here.

Oh, also FYI, Facebook surpassed Google as the #1 visited website during the course of the work day. So, obviously we weren't the only minions dicking around on the Internet. But seriously, do you know how I found out Elizabeth Edwards died yesterday? Not by watching ungodly amounts of cooking shows or by reading my book-club book. I found out on FB. Yep, that's pretty much where everyone finds out everything, for better or for worse.

I love old people. Not the ones who live in the communities I write about. The ones who work here in the office. It's 2010, people.

Really, honestly, this wasn't supposed to be a post about the evils of the Internet police. It wasn't even a post about the evils of the Internet, although I do think we all need to work a little harder to successfully integrate our online presence with our real-life presence. There has to be balance.

I used to spend all my time on the Internet. It's nifty to be able to make connections with folks hundreds, thousands of miles away who share similar interests. Some of those folks make it on to the list of my top friends.

But some of those people are, how to put this politely? Oh well, some of the people you meet on the Internet (much like some of the people you know in real life) are ape-shit crazy. I had to learn a lot of hard lessons about being burned by assholes who hide behind the anonymity (or so they think) of a computer screen and a DSL connection. And, while I have lots of great friends I've met on the Internet and I've yet to get chopped up and buried in someone's backyard, I have had a lot of heartache. And still, every once in a while, something reminds me that some people are just best left on the other side of an Internet connection.

Yet, there are times I've had success. I recently met up with my friend Vicki from my Virgin Islands travel forum. She's cool. She even took me to Walgreens to get the Zantac I foolishly forgot to pack on a business trip in her town. All of my Virgin Islands travel friends seem nice, but that could be because for the most part we just meet in the Virgin Islands (or sometimes on the mainland) and drink occasionally. Although Ben did give me a sweet deal on fixing my computer. And it works, so he obviously wasn't lying about being a computer fixer on the Internet.

Maybe it's the quality over quantity approach I've taken to finding Internet friends. And, these days if I don't like you in real life, you get deleted. I've done that several times, and even though it feels a little shitty when you do it, it seems to work out better in the long run. Sometimes there's still a little residual damage, but I'm a firm believer that everything works out in the end.

Especially when people lie. I've learned in my old age that I have zero percent tolerance for lying these days. Lie about who you know or even (how does one do this?) who you are? You're out. Perhaps you lied about details surrounding a vacation we took together? Adios, "friend." And lying about me to other people? Well, that's just a do-not-pass-go, do-not-collect-$200 offense.

As my lovely friend Vicki likes to say (mostly about Mayor/Governor Haslam), "Them's good people." If you're not good people, you're just not worth it. Life's too short. And, it's not my job to take you under my wing and try to help you become a good person, because nine times out of ten, you'll just end up screwing me over and I'll have to break up with you anyhow.

This post isn't directed at anyone. If you are reading this and feeling a little defensive? Well, that sounds like a personal problem. Right now, there's not anyone in my life that I'd like to delete. It's taken me a while, but I've surrounded myself with good, loving people who would have my back in a bar fight. So, please if you are my friend and you hear from me on a regular basis, don't let your head go to a bad place and feel like this is a passive-aggressive jab from me. It's not.

I just think every once in a while, we need to do a gut check about our time we spend "connected" and with what/whom we are connecting. I have cut way back on my Internet usage and relying on the Internet to "connect." Probably 90 percent of my friends on Facebook are people with whom I have an offline relationship. I don't troll the Internet looking for new pals, although I do appreciate the occasional happy coincidence that brings new people into my life. While it's great to talk to a long-lost friend from high school on instant messenger, nothing can replace hitting happy hour with a real, live person. I don't want to get away from that. I don't think that we should.

I would much rather shut my phone off and stick it in my purse at dinner than to look up at the dinner table and see every single participant at the meal facebooking, tweeting, texting one another and the rest of the world to give a play-by-play of the evening's event. Much like I no longer live my vacations through a camera lens (I used to be notorious about that), I don't want to live my life on Twitter or Facebook. Not even here on blogger. I want to live my life on earth. I like sharing observations with everyone here, but I want to share my life with my family and friends. With distance, Facebook does make that easier. However, you have to actually live your life, or you won't have anything to share.

Sneak preview

2010-12-08T09:19:00.002-06:00

I just got this tweet over on The Twitter, and I decided that I would accept this challenge from a fellow blogger. Not today, but sometime in the next 23 days before 2010 ends.

TPCarney I propose a new tradition for bloggers/online writers: an end-of-year post going over three things you got wrong in the past year.

Three things I got wrong. That'll take some time to pull together. Not because it'll be hard to dig up three things, but because it will be hard to narrow it down.

When I'm 94...

2010-12-07T17:02:00.002-06:00

The title of this post is a play on the Beatles' song, "When I'm 64," which is one of my favorite songs. The number 94 is symbolic, because today would be my grandma's 94th birthday if she were still alive.

My grandma was an amazing woman. She's been gone almost 28 years now, but I still remember her. She had amazing grace and an unbelievable relationship with God. She could teach us all about being strong in the face of adversity.

I wish I could say that she made me who I am. I guess in some ways she has, and the few years I spent with her will always make an impact on my life. But, no matter how hard I try, I will never be like she is. In some ways, that's OK because she's irreplaceable. In other ways, I think we should all try to be like my grandma.

I have been planning since I started NaBloPoMo to post about my grandmother on her birthday. I had no idea what the post would be like, but I wanted to talk about her. Because the older I get, the less we talk about her.

Today I got a glimpse of her courage and wisdom, and it reminded me that I need to find more grace and faith. I need to work a lot harder at it. My trials and tribulations are nothing compared to what she went through, and I can be so petty and I don't always put things in God's hands.

I suck at putting things in God's hands. I'm too much of a control freak. I hate that I am that way, and I need to work on having a little more grace. Just like today, I got at the end of my rope around here and I got bitchy and all I could think about was how to be a meaner person, so I could just take control of the situation.

Or, I could pray.

I know it sounds simple. I know it sounds silly to go to church and pray and read the Bible and just give all your problems to God. I know it probably seems naive in today's day and age.

But if my grandma worried, I never saw it. I might have seen her with a candle lit, with rosary beads or singing in the church choir, but I never saw her worry. In fact, when my dad almost died in the early 1970s, she just gave it up to God.

That's some grace, people. That's a kind of faith that not many people have.

It is the same faith my Aunt Rita had when she found out she was going to die from cancer. She made her peace with the Lord and went to heaven. She knew she was ready and would have God's rewards. My mom is the same way. If anything were to happen to her, she's confident enough in her faith to just get ready to go bewith the Lord. That's so amazing to me.

Sometimes it ticks me off that I don't stand up for myself, but I like to believe that I am being the bigger person by turning the other cheek. Still, I wonder if my Grandma were here today, what would she think of me.

So, today, on her 94th birthday, I am really going to try to be a better person. A better Catholic. A better Christian. In addition to What Would Jesus Do, maybe I should think about What Would Grandma Do, although I would bet they are the same about 99.999 percent of the time.

All of this reminds me of another song, which describes my Grandma so much better: "Amazing Grace."

Happy Birthday, Grandma. I miss you. You left us way too soon, but God must have needed you more in heaven. And I know you're still watching down on me and taking care of me, so if you could send some of your grace my way, that'd be great.

Holiday spirit?

2010-12-06T11:39:00.002-06:00

Working retail at Christmas is usually a pretty lucrative gig. In fact, I generally make more money in the last quarter of the year than I do the rest of the year combined. (The store does that too.) However, things are not the same when you're at a store that sells more baby gear than toys. I don't think many people know that you can get many of the toys, for the same price (well, unless the misfits in toyland forget to take down last week's sale signs) with shorter lines. If they did, I think our lines would be longer. And we'd get more hours at our store.

So, the purple people can volunteer to pick up shifts in Toyland at Christmas time for extra money. Well, that is, unless the manager of Toyland tells the top Purple Person that he has it "under control" for the holidays. Which is bullshit, if any of you have ever been in a busy toy store at Christmas. There's nothing "under control" about it.

Something about the whole thing wasn't sitting well with me. And frankly, I feel really bad about working only two or three shifts a week when the other stores are drowning and need extra help. The money doesn't hurt either. And, besides, I miss the kids and all the toys.

Did you hear me? I MISS THE KIDS. I like the new moms and expectant mothers, but I love the kids. In fact, every time I thought about quitting at Toyland, a little kid would come in the store for the first time and the look on his face was so priceless that I would decide to tough it out a little longer. Every time I tried to quit, which always had more to do with grown-ups who can't play well with others, a little kid reminded me that I wasn't at my job for a paycheck. I was at my job because nothing in the world makes you feel better than knowing on Christmas day little Timmy was going to have the perfect present under the tree because you helped his mom or grandma find the right toy. If you don't believe me, ask Shelby about the Rose Petal Cottage that Santa Claus brought her last year. Ask my cousin's son Little Dylan about his railroad worker outfit that he wears to ride on the train every year.

Perfect gifts, every time. Smiling, laughing, happy children are my specialty. For the most part, parents and kids alike loved to come to the store and see me. Yeah, there are new moms who appreciate the help I give them on their baby registry or thank me for recommending the car-safety class, but it's not like it was in Toyland.

I miss it a lot, even the crazy insanity of Christmastime. Even though I bitch and moan about the customers who threaten to punch you because you didn't stop a shoplifter or steal out of the Toys for Tots bin, the co-workers who get stressed out, and the long hours, it's fun. It's worth it.

And this year I don't get to do it, because some of my former co-workers have decided to tell the new manager, whom I do not know, that I do not like children and shouldn't be allowed to work at the store. Yes, these folks would prefer some random Christmas worker with a grumpy disposition, a short till and a questionable work ethic to moi.

I'm confused. I'm sad. And I'm a little pissed off. Because I have never, ever demonstrated anything but my love for children there. I was never anything but a good co-worker. I guess that it's easier to say I don't like kids than to blame me for some other offense that could be verified (like poor attendance or short tills).

I don't care if they don't want to work with me. Just say I'm a lazy bitch. You'd be wrong, but you could say it. Say I don't get enough extended warranties or credit cards (although looking at BRU statistics, once again, you'd be wrong). But please don't say I don't like kids.

I love kids. You don't know how often I cry because at almost-35 I am realizing that I'm never going to be the person sitting on the other side of the baby registry desk. Since I bought my own home, I have seriously been thinking of becoming a foster parent, and it will probably happen as soon as I get my finances and free time situated. I don't hate kids. Sometimes babies make me a little nervous because I haven't ever taken care of one for an extended period of time, but I know I could do it if there were anyway I could have one.

Unfortunately, there isn't. And honestly, I probably stay at this job because I get to be around little kids a few times a week.

I just think of some of the things I've done for customers. I played with a single mom's kids one time while she purchased a few Christmas gifts and snuck them out to the car. I drove to three different stores to track down a birthday gift for a little autistic boy who came into our store. I used to sit at the Thomas the Train table and the service desk and color with a little boy whose mom was serving in Iraq. I cried a few months ago when a dad left with a little girl in a car seat that I knew wouldn't protect her in a car accident.

Yeah, I'm a real bitch. A total asshole. I surely wouldn't want me around my kids, if I had them.

Whatever. Perhaps the shittiest part of all of this is that not only have I alienated my former co-workers to the point that they hate me, but they also feel compelled to lie about me. How the hell did I manage that?

Well, Merry Effing Christmas to me, I guess. At least I can sit at home and bake cookies while those losers work their asses off. Oh, and I can also rest assured that they will get theirs in the end.

Too bad none of that pays the bills. But I'll manage.

Shepherd's pie?

2010-12-05T20:42:00.003-06:00

I made some great shepherd's pie tonight. But, I think it could be better. Since it's great winter-time food, I am going to play around with it and see if I can come up with an even better version (think sour cream in the mashed potatoes, for example).

As soon as I have the best spinach pie ever, I will post the recipe.

I guess that gives you incentive to keep checking back, doesn't it?

I am also going to try my hand at inventing my own Christmas cookie. Did I tell you that? I'll be experimenting with that next weekend.

(P.S. Let's call this a cross post.promo for my cooking blog, which is where I'm putting it now.)

Angst

2010-12-05T10:55:00.002-06:00

Today's post is a little less about zeitgeist and a little more about angst.

Please, bear with me.

First of all, I caught a cold on vacation. So, I woke up this morning and couldn't breathe. That made me grumpy, but now I am chock-full of Dayquil and coffee and I just might live.

But that doesn't stop my case of the grumpies.

Especially when I am in the kitchen cooking and I see pet de-wormer on the kitchen counter.

Now, first, let's get past the grossness of leaving any medicine, especially pet medicine, where we cook food.

The bigger issue is that my roommate's cat obviously has worms. Her cat, which eats my cat's food and lives in the same house with my cat, is not well. And last time Portia had worms (when I first found her), it cost me $110. And I don't have $110 because someone was short on her rent this week.

When she first asked to bring her cat here, I told her that in no way could her cat's arrival upset my cat. It was my cat's house (and I like to think it's mine too). Her cat is her responsibility, and that includes feeding her and taking her to the vet.

I'm guessing if she can't pay her rent, she can't afford to take her cat to the vet. And now, her cat is sick and my cat is at jeopardy of getting sick.

So, yes, I am grumpy.

I think I would be less bitchy if this were the only thing. It's not. It's nowhere near being the only thing. But I'm not sure what to do, so I just internalize my bitchiness and pray that my cat doesn't get sick.

I'm sure at some point I will go postal, but for now I am just sitting here trying to think how to address the many issues that have built up over the last four months.

We all have our vices

2010-12-04T15:49:00.002-06:00

So, 31 days to let you all figure out who I am and what makes me tick. Surely that includes a few confesions, right?

I'm a bitch before I have coffee. And sometimes I'm still unpleasant after two cups, but that is probably has nothing to do with Juan Valdez.

I love chocolate. With the exception of chocolate-covered bananas, if it is has chocolate I will probably eat it. But I hate bananas.

But, perhaps the most serious problem that I have is that I am addicted to Bath and Body Works.

I went to college in Ohio in the mid-90s. Bath & Body Works was started in the 90s in Ohio by Les Wexner, who owns just about everything. OK, maybe just The Limited Brands. Regardless, he's a billionaire and the person behind Bath & Body Works. And when I started college, they didn't have one on every corner. You had to make a day of it and go spend a fortune in Columbus, purchasing lotions, soaps, shower gels and whatever else you needed.

And, I did it. And once they built one in Athens, where I went to college, and then later moved to a big city, I realized that I always got caught up in their "more is less" promotions. (One soap might be $4, but if you buy 3, they are 3 for $10.)

Anyhow, years and years of my love for all things that smell delicious caught up with me when I moved earlier this year. I found bubble baths, soaps, lotions, that were still in the box delivered to me from their online store. I moved all of these boxes with me and then said, "You are not buying anymore Bath and Body Works until you use what you already have."

I have been making progress, but I am pretty sure I could provide free bath products to dirty people for at least another year without buying anything new. And, true to my plan, I deleted all of their e-mails promising free gifts and savings with my purchases.

Well, that was until I got some housewarming gifts. Apparently, giving smellies for your house from Bath and Body Works makes a nice housewarming gift. They really do, I am being seduced by the aroma of the strawberry scent bug in my downstairs bathroom while I write this.

However, this week, I had to break down and go inside. My new wallflower air freshener needed a refill. It did not, however, need six, but they were only $4 each if you bought six. So, that's what I bought.

I did not buy holiday soaps or candles or sugar scrub, so I still consider this a victory.

Or at least a manageable loophole.

Now, I must go upstairs and take a bubble bath with last year's after-Christmas clearance chocolate peppermint bubble bath.

The long road home

2010-12-03T21:13:00.002-06:00

So, I just drove 500 miles from Ohio to Tennessee, and I am tired.

I love living in Nashville, but it's so far from home. That journey really wears me out these days. Not sure if it's because I'm too old, don't do it enough or am just a wimp, but I am just about ready for bed.

It doesn't help that my brain is on Ohio time and it's past 10 there. I think I am just going to pass out where I've landed and finish the rest of my journey in the morning. I had to stop and drop off my traveling companion, and I just don't want to battle deer, other drivers and sleepiness to make the last 50 miles on my own.

Nashville has been where I've grown up and become the woman that I am today, and I wouldn't trade it for the world. (OK, there are a few experiences that I would probably trade if I had the chance.) But it does do a number on me to be so far from my family. But at least I have a reliable vehicle that will get me back and forth to Ohio once in a while.

Now, if only I had a magical fairy who put gas in my car as I was driving down the highway.

The Information Age

2010-12-02T09:18:00.002-06:00

While I would love to tell you more about how I've watched nothing but ESPN, Disney and the local news with a girl who was quite unfortunate-looking in HDTV (I shouldn't say more; I probably went to journalism school with her.), instead I am going to blog some more about this age of information saturation that we are in and how Facebook has enabled you to not only reconnect with your long-lost BFF from high school, but also to know when he last took a poop.

Thanks, Mark Zuckerburg. You definitely deserve a crisp billion-dollar bill for that shit.

(Sidebar: remember when I didn't believe that "blog" should be used as a verb? Well, times they are a' changin'. However, blogs are just a vehicle for my writing, really. So I should say write. Oh well, will try harder next time.)

Surprisingly, this latest post about over-sharing and Facebook is not about my friend who likes to tweet about drinking milk. Although I hear she recently made some cookies. This is about my friend who's gone to crazytown on her diet.

I'm all for dieting. Hell, I've been dieting since 1984. And, since I'm at my fattest weight ever, I probably should diet.

But do I really need to know every time you eat some Special K or do a sit-up. Nah, I can probably live.

I don't care if you have one of those apps that updates your Facebook after you run. In fact, if I ever run again, I will probably get one. But "Two egg whites and veggie sausage links. Yay!" is crazy, especially because people eat breakfast everyday. And, if you're really working to lose weight, you do sit-ups everyday.

So, that's pretty much the summary of her FB posts: eat healthy stuff, work out, talk about other issues relating to eating healthfully and working out.

She's a nice person, and I wouldn't defriend her for it. After all, remember how upset I was when someone defriended me for -- gasp -- supporting health care reform? (Actually, that happened twice and both times the people were pretty much assholes. And both were people I considered to be pretty good friends. Now I consider them to be Class A jerks. I'm hoping they always were.)

Anyhow, it's not that I disagree with her. Actually, I'm sitting here, super-fat and eating fudge for breakfast, and thinking perhaps I could benefit from reading these posts. But then I realize that what upsets me is that a) I'm sad for her. Is her only existence focused on weight loss? and b) I kind of wonder what she thinks of me. Does she look at me and get sad like she does for the people on the Biggest Loser?

I didn't used to worry that people, especially my friends judged me and felt sorry for me. But lately, it just seems like the signs of the times. And it doesn't help that right now, I'm not terribly happy with how I look so that emanates from me.

But, soon enough, the holidays will be over and we'll be back to Eggos for breakfast.

Oops, I hope that's not too much sharing.

Crazytown

2010-12-01T10:15:00.002-06:00

So, I am supposed to take the next 31 days to explain what makes me tick and tell you about the culture that shapes who I am.

It's no wonder I blog to stay sane, because this week with my family is making me crazy.

Right now, my brother is telling his theory about Sex and the City. We are all laughing so loud that I can barely type. My mom is telling us to stop before we wake up the baby.

This morning my oldest brother asked me if he could borrow my blog so he could tell everyone on the Internet about how he slept last night.

My youngest brother doesn't believe in the Internet. Says it's the devil.

My middle brother asked where my blog was and how he could leave comments. Considering they are all crazy, I told them it was private.

My dad has told me no less than a dozen times that I need to clean out my car so I can get my brakes fixed. I've never seen brake-fixers go in your car, but what do I know? Dad's great, but when he gets on something, he will be on it for weeks.

He just told me I spend too much time on the Internet, and I explained to him that I have to write everyday.

When he asked me why, I said: "Do you all not realize that I am a writer?" Seriously, do they not know what I do for a living?

I should have brought my therapist home with me. She'd have had a field day.

So, this is day one. If you've always wondered what makes me so crazy and neurotic, maybe this gives you an idea.

Does anyone else have massive amounts of craziness anytime their family gathers?

Also, thanks for the comments. I have decided that I need to read more blogs, and I am totally going to start doing that, trying to leave 5 comments a day, like you suggested. If you know of any blogs I should be reading, let me know.

Preparation

2010-11-30T19:44:00.005-06:00

As I have been mentioning lately, I have been giving thought to reinvigorating my blog. I've debated a new layout (nothing's struck my fancy yet). I've thought about coming up with a theme. I'm trying to figure out ways to attract new readers without having to blog about Justin Bieber and Lindsay Lohan. You know, the things writers think about when they start writing to entertain their audience rather than just using their blog for therapy, which is pretty much what mine has always been.

So maybe that's my theme: I write so I don't go nuts.

One of the things I'd planned to do was participate in National Blog Posting Month. The gist of NaBloPoMo, as it's called by all the people in the know, is that you pledge to write something everyday for one month. This helps you become more disciplined with your writing (although I would argue that I am disciplined in writing at work, but at home my blog is like the shoeless children of the cobbler or the mechanic's car that's up on blocks). But they give you a daily prompt if you get stuck, and it fosters the whole "If you build it, they (readers) will come" theory. So, we'll see if I get any more readers.

Every month, NaBloPoMo has a theme. The theme for December is "Zeitgest." Now, I speak zero German, so I wasn't really clear on what they were looking for here. The description on the Web site said: "You have 31 days to capture the mood of your culture and your life as they exist right now. Use words, photos, music...?"

This should be interesting. 31 days to capture my spirit, attitude or general outlook of a specific period in time...

At least it's the holidays. I am seeing a lot of posts on our wacky, quirky family traditions. Bear with me for the next 31 days. Maybe we'll both learn something.

Giving Thanks

2010-11-24T14:12:00.002-06:00

Thanksgiving is tomorrow. I just wanted to take a few minutes to say some thanks just in case I don't get to tomorrow when I am up to my elbows in pies.

First of all, I know it sounds silly, but I want to thank anyone who is reading this. Your support of my craft means a lot to me, and I promise that there will be lots of exciting things happening here in the next few months. Just be patient.

This year has been a wild year, but I am so thankful for all of my family and friends. I am especially thankful for my adorable nephew Juanito and my new family, the Stanfords. If nothing else, they give me an excuse to head down to Florida and soak up the sun. But truly and honestly, I am very fortunate to have a good relationship with all of my siblings and their families. It is something I do not take for granted, even though I am so far away.

I am thankful for my home, even though sometimes I worry that it's a big expensive money pit. I really do love it, especially now that I am getting settled in.

I am thankful for my job, which gives me an opportunity to use all of the skills I gained in my five years at Ohio University.

On a lighter note...speaking of Ohio University, I am glad that Bobcat football is fun to watch this year, and they are doing so well that it is on TV once in a while. Maybe I'll even head to Detroit if that's the bowl game they get this year?

Life is good. I am blessed. I hope you all are too.

Have a safe and happy holiday. If nothing else, I will see you Wednesday for the beginning of National Blog Posting Month. I have to catch up on some besos with my nephew before then.

Back up and running

2010-11-24T00:38:00.003-06:00

I got my computer back today. And it is pretty fast. I am super excited about it.

I am mostly excited because this means that I am going to try to manage to participate in National Blog Posting Month for December. We'll see how it goes, but I really want to get back in the habit of blogging and get my words out to a bigger audience.

I am leaving Saturday to go visit my family in Ohio. That will be nice.

I made a cake for my office Thanksgiving tomorrow. It tastes delicious, but it doesn't look nearly as pretty as I'd hoped. Well, hopefully people will enjoy it.

There isn't much exciting going on right now. Sometimes boring is good. Things are still stressing me out, but it's not worth mentioning right now.

Soul mates?

2010-11-22T11:02:00.003-06:00

I just read a very interesting article about soul mates.

I do believe in soul mates. I believe that my best friend, Michael, and I are soul mates, even though we aren't a couple and won't live happily ever after. We finish each other's sentences, we know when the other is hurting; he just happens to prefer to date men. If he didn't, we probably would have ended up together and been quite happy. As it is, we are still wonderful friends and he's still trying to convince me that I want to come live in Hotlanta. Now that my family is leaving Miami, it will move up one space on the list, but I don't think I'd be looking for me in the 404 area code anytime soon.

So, there are different kinds of soul mates. There's the best friend kind, which I definitely have. And then there's the happily-ever-after kind, which I somedays wonder if I've given up on.

In fact, with the exception of Michael, I have not ever believed, not even for a minute, that I had found my soul mate. Even when a relationship was significant, I have never thought "This person is my soul mate." It's not that I don't believe in soul mates or that I haven't connected with anyone, I just haven't ever felt like anyone I've dated was sent to me by God to live happily ever after. And, that's what I think a soul mate is.

I used to have a friend and every single guy she dated was her "soul mate." She'd get so worked up over them, plan out her entire life, thank the heavens, and then she'd find out the guy was already married, screwing around on her or just not that into her. Then she'd be devastated because she had lost The One and go into a period of intense mourning until some other guy batted his baby blues at her. Then, it would start all over again.

Having gone through a pretty rough patch when a pretty serious relationship broke up last year, I can't imagine doing that with every single guy I dated. Dang, I already can't afford my therapy bills.

Do I believe God has a plan for each and every one of us? Yes.

Do I believe that he already knows whether or not we are going to have a lifemate and, if so, who that person is? Yes.

Do I believe that is one person? Yep.

Do I believe that we can miss that person and end up miserable for our entire life? Nope.

You see, God won't send that one person He's picked for you until you are both ready. So, if you meet a guy with baggage who's not ready, chances are pretty good he's not your soul mate. If you meet someone and you're not ready, chances are he's not your soul mate. Now, that doesn't mean you might not get involved with someone else only to have your chosen one return to your life later when you're both ready. God knows exactly when all this is going to happen. And, if I've learned nothing else in 35 years, it's that it's just best to let God call the shots and trust in His plan. It's not always easy, but it is always worth it.

So, yes, it's devastating when you are with someone and it doesn't work out. But you can't worry that it will never happen again for you or that you let The One slip out of your hands. I know it's easier said than done.

In the Meantime (which is the title of an amazing book on this very same subject), being single isn't all that bad. Having a lot of meaningful relationships with friends and family is a very good thing. Going on dates with guys who probably aren't The One can be fun, as long as you keep your heart open and don't get too caught up on what will or won't be. I keep busy. I work, I have a book club, I hang out with my friends. I'm not sitting around pining for some mythical man of my dreams. I also don't proclaim every man I meet in line at the grocery store The One so that I don't have to worry about missing out or being alone. I'm just working on being the best me I can be.

If someone else is supposed to be part of that, I'll know when the time comes. I do find that it generally happens when you least expect it.

And, if I end up by myself, I won't get bummed out. After all, my soul mate could end up living down the hall from me at the nursing home when I'm 90. You never know. But by working on yourself, you clear out all of the spiritual, emotional and mental clutter that is keeping your soul mate from finding you... because if you're not ready, he's not going to show up.

Quick one

2010-11-19T08:42:00.002-06:00

I am travelling for work today, so not much time to blog. Of course, I am validating my decision to post right now with the fact that I am going to spend my lunch time in a car with my coworkers and there is NO WAY we will be back by 5. And, I just realized that Bill Maher is not on again until January. That's the real reason for TGIF.

But, it'll all be OK.

I wanted to tell you about a couple of things and then send you on your merry way until Monday. Since my laptop is still in Chattanooga (I am trying not to panic at how long it has been there. I'm sure it's fixable. If not, let's hope Santa Claus brings me a new one.), there won't be any blogging until next week. And since I'll be in a three-day flurry of activity to wrap up before I'm off for a week... Well, you shouldn't sit by the computer with a cup of coffee and wait on me.

While you're looking for something else to entertain you, I recommend you go see the movie "Burlesque." I went to the sneak preview last night, and it was fantastic. As one of the other moviegoers said before the film, "I hope it's more Chicago and less Showgirls."

And it was. It was glorious. Think Coyote Ugly meets Moulin Rouge. Only good. Really good. Cher is great as always, and Christina Aguilera was surprisingly good. I really loved this movie.

So, go see that. You won't regret it.

The new Harry Potter movie? I also saw that before everyone else (and for free!) and it's great too. Pretty dark and a little scary, but so is the last book. I don't normally like the movies, even though I adore the books. I loved this movie. It still glazes over parts of the book that I thought were important, but it's hard to shove a whole (or even half of one) book into a two-hour film.

Lastly, some more housekeeping items. I am up to 25 followers on Twitter. I am trying to learn how all that works, but I do not -- not on Twitter, Facebook or with this blog -- have any desire to tailor my message in a way that will get me more fans. I tell you what I have to say, and if that doesn't have any keywords, then I guess I don't light up Google or trend on Twitter or make it to the top of the Facebook news feed. Would I like to make money with my Internet content? Some days I would. But I am not going to create a message specifically to create money. That's not how real writers work. Or at least they shouldn't.

Anyhow, my whole point was: Friend me on FB if you haven't. Follow me on Twitter. Tell your friends. I am going to give a prize to my 50th follower, so maybe that will be you. My e-mail address, so you can find me on FB is richardslj AT gmail. I think you can use that to find me on Twitter too. As soon as my computer gets back, I'll have links to both of those places here. It's part of the blog makeover project on my to-do list.

Speaking of that project, I'll be refreshing my links. If you have a blog that you'd like me to link to or follow, drop me a line. I'll be glad to add you.

You guys have a good weekend, and play nice while I'm gone, umkay?

Go here.

2010-11-18T10:27:00.002-06:00

Just a quick one because I really am working (I can hear you snickering; stop it!). I have found the most amazing Web site and I want you all to go there.

The Spinsterlicious Life

I hope that people who are happily married can relate to it, but I'm not sure. As you all know, I had a long overdue therapy session this week, and I told my therapist that I don't hate being single. I like to travel. I like sleeping in the middle of the bed. I like not having someone telling me how to spend my money (well, other than my mortgage lender lol).

Sure I'd like to have someone to curl up with me and watch TV. However, I wouldn't be devastated when he headed home at the end of the evening.

So, I think I've finally realized I'm spinsterlicious. And I'm OK with that.

Another "Commie" rant

2010-11-17T10:06:00.002-06:00

OK, you've been warned. And I'm not really a Communist. I love Jesus. Now, if you're interested in Commie rants, feel free to keep reading. If not, there's a little red box with an X in the corner...

I got yelled at when I went to the doctor today.

Not because my blood pressure was high, I forgot to take my medicine or because I was fatter than the last visit, although all those things are probably true. But, lucky for me, the doctor I went to see was my therapist.

I haven’t been there in months. Because my co-pay is $50, and that’s a lot of money. But when you’re having panic attacks and anxiety, you just finally have to say “I’m not healthy and I need to go to the doctor.”

So I don’t eat this week. At least I won’t shoot myself. It’s a trade off.

But joking aside, I really didn’t go because I couldn’t afford to go. Yes, I have two jobs, one with really great health insurance, and I still couldn’t afford to go to the doctor. Because mental health co-pays are ridiculous, if your insurance covers mental health at all. And, that’s with “great” insurance.

Anyhow, I was telling my doctor about the new political group I am in, and we started talking about issues and we ended up on health care reform. I’m sure it had something to do with me telling her that I stopped coming to see her because I couldn’t afford my co-pays, but it morphed into a whole discussion on the state of our country’s health care system and why something has to be done about it.

Our conversation really blew a lot of popular arguments out of the water. First of all, here is a doctor telling me she wishes we had a single-payer system. Yep, that’s right. You see, right now for-profit insurance companies, mostly HMOs, pretty much set the rates for physicians. Dr. Joan told me that in the 1970s she worked part time and actually received more money per hour from the insurance companies than she does now. So, here she is, at a time when she should be retiring, and she’s working more than ever just to make ends meet. Do you think that the CEO of the insurance company makes less today than he did in 1978? Because I don’t think he does.

For-profit healthcare is bad. And people don’t realize how bad it is because they don’t actually pay for it themselves or they are relatively healthy.

If you’re a nerd like me, you might pour over your explanation of benefits when you get it from your insurance each month. You might see that a prescription that gets billed to your insurance for $12 at Target gets billed for $35 at Walgreen’s (true story). And you might see the little dance that your health care providers do with your insurance company.

You see, this is what the dance looks like. You go to the doctor. Your doctor bills the insurance company $150. The insurance company tells the doctor the visit only really cost $50, $20 of which you have already paid. Now, does it cost $150 for the doctor to look in your ears and write a prescription? No, but the insurance company is pretty much only going to give her about a third of what she bills for, so she better not ask for less or she’ll screw herself.

But it gets better with the insurance company paying $2,400 on a $10,000 hospital visit. (Once again, true story.) Because not only are insurance companies (who are more accountants and less doctors) dicking doctors over on what they’ll pay for services, but they’re also raping you and your employer on the insurance premiums.

I’m lucky. My work pays 90 percent of my premiums and I pay 10. That’s really good, because my insurance premium is over $600/month. So, let’s do the math. My office visits are $60, $20 of which I pay. When I fell and got hurt, they paid $2,400. All my medicines are generics because they stopped paying for my name-brand stuff, so I pay for that. The insurance company is still making an assload of money off me. And they’re making an assload of money of you too.

Yet, when money was tight, I couldn’t afford to go to the doctor. So, that argument about not wanting America to have rationed care? Well, we already do. And imagine if I were one of the 50 million people in our country who don’t have insurance. Oh, and by the way, guess who pays for their care? Did you guess everyone who has insurance? Because we do. The hospital has to recoup their costs somewhere, and that somewhere is the people who pay.

There’s also the argument about waiting for care. We do that here too. If you don’t believe me, let me send you a picture of my hole in my mouth where my tooth used to be. I’m out of dental insurance until January. Speaking of waiting for care, some of my long-time readers might remember when I was unemployed and uninsured and working my ass off to find a job with benefits because I was having health problems. No one should have to do that, because it’s scary. No one should die because they got laid off from their job.

Or what about substandard care? You think we don’t get that when some bean counter at our insurance company decides that we’ll be just fine on prescription X instead of prescription Y because X is cheaper? And, exactly what kind of care you think the uninsured are getting? Because I’m guessing they’re not going to top surgeons at Vanderbilt.

So, we have rationed care. We have substandard care. We wait for care. And we do all of this with insurance. Insurance, I might mention, that is raping us and our employers on a monthly basis.

How is this better? Really? I wish that one person could honestly explain how it is better. I suspect to some it’s better because poor people who don’t work don’t “drain” the system. But they do. And with this economy, any of us could be next. And I don’t know about all of you, but I’m not really healthy enough to shop around for new insurance.

We need health care reform. And, by reform I mean, “We need to tell health insurance companies to go fuck themselves and make health care nonprofit.” We are the only country with for-profit healthcare. We also pay more for healthcare than any other civilized nation. We really should be getting more for our money, but CEOs need to fly private jets and live in mansions. While I wait next year to get a plastic tooth for half-price.

(P.S. I just saw a tweet saying that insurance companies spent more than $88 million dollars in campaign donations to fight health care reform. So, seriously, who do you think the problem is here. Obama? Really?)

Times, they are a changin'

2010-11-11T11:13:00.003-06:00

First of all, I realized this morning that I have been at this blogging thing for more than five years. In honor of that, I wanted to thank those of you who have managed to stick with me that long. I appreciate it in more ways than you realize.

I also wanted to let you know, to quote one of my all-time favorite songs: Baby, you ain't seen nothin' yet.

There are lots of changes coming here. Nothing that will affect the content of this blog, unless it improves it. Mostly, I am just embarking on a few projects to focus on my writing outside of reporting on the new therapy room at the local nursing home. Don't get me wrong, the work I do is rewarding and I love to have a full-time job working in media, but there are so many other things that I want to work on.

This blog will pretty much remain the same. It is going to get a facelift, but the content will be similar. However, there will be more of it, because I am signing on to the next National Blog Posting Month. That means that in December, I will be pledging to post every single day. I'm also going to try to follow more blogs, and I hope to get more followers here. Feel free to recommend your favorite blogs in the comments, and feel free to recommend me to your friends.

While I don't anticipate too much cooking in December (It is Christmas in Toyland, after all), I am going to work on photography and improving the cooking blog. That will probably be in 2011, but keep checking in on the blog anyhow. I think I am going to stuff some squash this Saturday.

The music blog hasn't ever been what I wanted from it, and I need to figure out if I scrap it or reinvigorate it. I'll have that figured out before I go see Garth Brooks in December, I'm sure.

There is a new blog coming up, and I think it has the potential to be huge if I can get the word out. I guess that will be the grand experiment in social media. Stay tuned for details.

Speaking of social media, I have joined The Twitter. I know, I know. I didn't want to do it, but professionally, it makes sense. If you're on there, feel free to follow me @richardslj. It'll be the same wit you've come to appreciate -- only in 140 characters or less.

Calvin ball

2010-11-09T21:08:00.001-06:00

Remember the comic strip "Calvin and Hobbs"? If you do, you probably remember that Calvin was notorious for changing the rules of the game to his advantage. Calvin ball, if you will.

There is a little Calvin ball going on in my workplace. Say a little player that we all make it out unscathed. Our new boss arrives next Monday, if we can all hang on that long.

Personally, I am trying to figure out how someone gets out of having what is supposed to be a celebratory lunch with some for whom she has lost all respect. Needless to say, I deleted the save the date for his retirement party.

The only good thing is that I sent my laptop to be fixed, and when it is, I am making changes in blog land.

But no Calvin ball, I promise.

Election recap

2010-11-04T15:53:00.003-05:00

I have been meaning to share my thoughts on the election since Wednesday morning. Here they are, all wrapped up with a tidy little bow.

1. I am not sure what (or if) Americans were thinking.

2. I am sad my former boss, Ted Strickland, lost. That was not Ohio's best move.

3. I am not completely desolate like I was when this happened in 1994. Why? Because this wasn't as bad. I know you think I'm nuts, but it was less seats and it will be OK in the long run.

But mostly, this race reminded me of when people have a friend -- in this case, that friend is Barack Obama -- and the friend pisses you off. So to get back at them you do all this stuff to get back at them, but ultimately all it does is ends up screwing you in the long run?

This was America's way of saying, "I'm so pissed at you now Barack, that I am just going to eat these Twinkies until I can't fit in my pants."

Or, "I don't care that I have been waiting to see 'Due Date' for months or that Robert Downey Jr is my favorite actor, there is no way I am meeting you at that movie, Barack. I am not ever going to that theater again, just in case you're there and I might run into you."

Let me know how that works for you, America. I'll be sitting over here in my fat pants eating my Hillary Clinton Cookies.

A matter of housekeeping...

2010-11-04T15:27:00.002-05:00

So, this shit has hit the fan among bloggers and real, live journalists (of which I am both) about a bit of a plagiarism scandal.

Haven't heard about it yet? Check out this. And this. And this one, too. And come back when you're finished, OK?

Welcome back. Now on to my story.

What all of these articles reminded me of is two fold. 1) There are lot of stupid douchebags in the world, and 2) Apparently it would not hurt to remind people that I am a writer, and stealing my shit is not cool.

One time at work someone stole my shit. Yep, some lady took an article out of our e-newsletter, copied and pasted it and sent it out to all of her business associates. Some of those business associates were also our business associates, and it did not end well. As a result of that, we had to put a disclaimer at the bottom our e-newsletter. It was written by an attorney, but basically it says. We don't write this stuff so you can steal it.

But all this reminded me of that time I got plagiarized and how we had to get that disclaimer. And then I thought about this blog, and thought that perhaps it was time to issue a disclaimer here.

I am a writer, and even though I let all of you read this for free (not like you'd pay for it), the way writers make money is when someone pays for their work. I don't write anything here expecting to make money, nor do I make any money off of my blog; but, my point is: you'd better not make any money off of my blog either.

Let's say I do write something here that is worth sharing or repeating (stop laughing at me). Feel free to link to me and feel free to quote me. But don't feel free to post it on your blog without telling people it came from me.

To put it in layman's terms: don't steal my shit. Don't pretend you wrote something that I wrote. I know computers allow people to copy and paste, but that doesn't it make it right. If you want to copy and paste, at least include a link so someone can come here if they like it and want to see what else I've written. (Let me know if you are going to link to me, because that'd be kind of cool.)

And, if you make money off of my words, giving me credit might not be good enough. When in doubt, just ask. I'm a pretty reasonable person and I know that it doesn't matter if you're a writer if no one reads your stuff. My words and writings are not public domain. It's like what grandma said about that first boyfriend: no one buys the cow when they get the milk for free.

As always, 99.9 percent of the world's problems could be alleviated if people played nice and used a little common courtesy. That's how we roll in these parts.

WWJD?

2010-11-02T13:01:00.003-05:00

After I pissed off crazy Republican lady last week (and, yes, I know not all Republicans are crazy), I said I wasn't going to talk about politics anymore because it just pisses everyone off, including me.

But, really, what I need to talk about isn't political. At least it shouldn't be. In my mind, it's a text-book case of "What would Jesus do?"

We, as a nation, just need to figure out how to do it. And, I don't see how that's going to happen because each side thinks the other is wrong and one side hates the other like poison and won't compromise.

I don't think helping others should have "sides."

In the Bible, Jesus says, "For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, a stranger and you welcomed me, naked and you clothed me, ill and you cared for me, in prison and you visited me."

The righteous will answer him and say, "Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you drink? When did we see you a stranger and welcome you, or naked and clothe you? When did we see you ill or in prison, and visit you?"

And the king will say to them in reply, 'Amen, I say to you, whatever you did for one of these least brothers of mine, you did for me.' (Matthew 25: 35-41)

Jesus doesn't say: Give to those who work; give to those who have health insurance; give to those who are Republican or Democrat. He says "Whatever you do to the least of my brothers, that you do unto me."

It is our moral obligation to help the poor. It is our moral obligation to ensure that those who are sick get affordable and adequate medical care. It is our moral obligation to give as much as we can to help those who cannot help themselves. It is our moral obligation to speak up against injustice.

Which, is why I am writing this today. It isn't about being Republican or Democrat. It's not about where you worship on Sunday morning. And, say what you want about our works not getting us to Heaven, but then I will remind you that Jesus said: Whatever you do to the least of my brothers, that you do unto me.

All of these Christians who want the Ten Commandments in the school seem to be losing sight of the two greatest commandments of the Lord. One, Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind; and two, Love your neighbor as yourself.

I don't think if you're griping about paying more taxes so your neighbor with cancer can have health insurance that you're really following the Lord's commandments. Maybe the reason these folks fight so hard to get the Ten Commandments in schools is because they need to see them in order to do them.

But, that's not my place. We're not to judge others. They will have their day the same as I. But we all need to do our best job as Christians. Some of these people want the United States to be a "Christian nation," but they obviously don't know what that would mean.

Let me tell you a little story that illustrates my point.

Today, I went grocery shopping on my lunch break. I bought a dozen eggs, some brown sugar, 2 tubs of yogurt and three Lean Cuisines. And, yes, the content of my cart will matter in a minute.

As I was leaving the store, I see a man in a wheelchair leaning his head into a car in one of the two left-turn lanes. I get into the other lane, because I need to get back to work. Yes, probably not WWJD, but I had no cash, so I couldn't help this man anyhow.

As the light turns green, the man begins to roll out in front of my car, and I have to slam on my brakes to keep from hitting him. He was obviously homeless, and I am guessing the fact that he had one leg probably limited his ability to find steady work even when the economy was booming. So, I stop and wait for him, and the light changes while I do.

I am sitting for the red light, and I hear a tapping on my window. I just shrug my shoulders because I have no cash, but the tapping persists. So, I roll down my window.

"I'm really hungry, ma'am. Did you buy anything at Kroger that you could share with me?"

I looked in my bags, even though I already knew the answer. "I'm so sorry," I replied.

He moved on to the next car. The light changed, and I drove off.

In the few-mile drive back to my office I began to cry. I weeped for this man who had entered my life for only a brief minute. I weeped for our country and the state of affairs that would reduce a disabled man to begging for food in a busy intersection. And, I weeped for our Lord, who must be heartbroken that we can't do better for our people.

Whatsoever you do to the least of my brothers, that you do unto me.

I don't have the answers. I wish I did. All I know is that we have to create a social system that works to protect and aid the least of our brothers. No human being should be put in that situation that man was put into.

I wish we could pick and choose. I wish I could tell the government that instead of funding unjust wars and state-sponsored murders that I would like to put my taxes toward housing subsidies, food banks and other social welfare program.

But mostly I wish that every Christian would listen to their hearts and the Lord and demand that we help the least of our brothers. And frankly, until they do, they should stop demanding that we have a "Christian nation," because there is nothing Christian about how this country treats its people.

Because it seems like a waste...

2010-10-29T12:05:00.002-05:00

... to spend $40,000 on a degree I never use.

So, I wanted to toss out these two dime-store commentaries on elections and campaigns. And then, I'm going to shut up because I've already voted, and none of it really matters anyhow.

1. In this, the era of "early voting," organizations who put out voters' guides might want to step it up and get those out a little early. I voted three weeks ago, so sending one this week really didn't help me. Not that I needed one, but I did appreciate it and when every dime counts in an election, you need to really make your sure your literature is making an impression.

2. Yesterday, in case you didn't figure it out, I had someone I considered a friend blow up on me because I said Karl Rove has a political strategy to use particular issues to target "ignorant" voters. She called me rude, deleted me from Facebook and then told other people that she never wanted to be in the same room with me because of my "bullshit."

It's OK, I am not ever going to be in the same room with her because she's a class A "asshole." And I am half-tempted to call her out by name in case she ever googles herself. But frankly, that'd be a waste of time, because I think there's a reason she got defensive when I refered to ignorant voters.

OK, enough of the sidebar and drama. What's done is done, and words -- on either side -- can't be erased. But Google Karl Rove and "wedge issues," and you'll see that this is shit I didn't make up in my mind. And, as for "ignorant voters," well, let's go back to the founding of our country. The electoral college exists because some of our founding fathers believed that the general public would not be smart enough to elect their leaders by popular vote. Yes, in some ways that's elitist and contradictory to the spirit of democracy. But, to be honest, I haven't thought it was a bad idea for a long time. After all, in the time that I've studied electoral politics, we've had the Republican Revolution of 1994, numerous primaries getting rigged to put the weakest link up to the more formidable opponent (I'm not positive this doesn't explain some candidates this year), two bullshit presidential elections and this whole mess this year.

And, I don't care what you have to say about it, when you have a candidate for U.S. Senate who doesn't even know what's in the first amendment, America is not putting its best foot forward.

And, deep down, even if we disagree on what it means, don't we all want America to put its best foot forward?

Politically incorrect

2010-10-28T14:27:00.002-05:00

I don't care if people are Republicans or Democrats. Life would be boring if we were all the same. Actually, some of my dearest friends are Republicans, and I don't love them any less. I don't think they are stupid or that they have made the wrong decision. Because they aren't stupid. They've done their homework, and they can tell you why they are Republican. I can respect that. I often wonder if I were in another tax bracket if I would be a Republican, but since I will probably not ever be in another tax bracket, we don't need to worry about that.

I generally tend to identify more with Democrats, although I will tell you that Tennessee's race for the Governor this year had me thinking outside the box, so to speak. It was two very moderate candidates with similar positions and similar backgrounds. I had even met both of them, and they were both very nice guys. However, the Democrat has been classless and negative the last few weeks.

It was hard to make my decision, and no one will ever know how I voted on that one.

I am a middle-class, white-collar daughter of a retired autoworker. I'm a woman who believes that men shouldn't be allowed to make decisions about our medical care (although I do believe that people have the obligation to sort those decisions out with their religious beliefs). My family hasn't ever been wealthy, and I highly doubt that we ever will be. We're not destitute, but it's my guess that anyone in my family is only a few paychecks away from it, if that.

But, I have always believed that society has an obligation to help its own. Whether it's through offering affordable health care for everyone or giving people a hand-up when they are down on their luck, we can't let people rot and suffer. We need our school kids to be smart and competitive in a global market place. We need to provide unwed mothers with a full range of options -- from reproductive services to financial assistance.

We are only as strong as our weakest link. And yes, as one of my heroes, Hillary Clinton, said: it does take a village to raise a child.

In my village, we would all come home on payday and throw what we could into the pot. And then when someone needed something, it would be there for them. Maybe that makes me a communitarian, or maybe it makes me a socialist. I don't care what the label is, hungry kids without access to warm beds, clean water, adequate education and health care make me sad. It breaks my heart and makes me ashamed to be an American.

It surely doesn't make me a Democrat or a Republican. All they do is fight amongst themselves, sling mud and waste our money on stupid attack ads. Yep, you heard me, they're both guilty and I'm just about fed up with our special-interest-run "democracy."

Maybe people hate me because of my beliefs, even though I'm respectful to those who believe in a free market, capitalist society. I don't think it's right to not provide affordable healthcare or to tell someone what medical procedures they can or can't have, but I have to admire people's convictions. Especially when they are religious beliefs. After all, they'd tell me that my faith requires me to think like them.

But the beauty about God, just like the beauty of American politics, is that we all have free will and the right to make our own mistakes. God forgives. We all get the opportunity to live and learn.

I had someone I liked and considered to be a nice person get upset with me today. And, for some reason, it really bothered me. I think it mostly bothered me because I completely misread this person. I thought she was accepting, kind and caring, and obviously she is not. Or perhaps she only is to people who watch Fox News.

I guess the whole point of this blog is that I have laid my politics and beliefs all out on the line here. If you don't agree with me, I have no problem with it. But if you have a problem with it, you can go on with your life. I would say "you won't hurt my feelings," but you probably will, especially if we were "real" friends. But, please don't try to argue with me. I'm not going to wake up tomorrow thinking that Glenn Beck is the best thing since sliced cheese, so there is no point in trying to convince me. Either you accept who I am and learn to tolerate it or you move on.

Case closed.

News flash!

2010-10-26T12:26:00.002-05:00

Really, US magazine, is this headline really breaking news?

Charlie Sheen found drunk, naked in hotel

I'm not surprised. Anyone? Bueller?

I shouldn't make fun of Charlie, but don't we just wait around to see what mess he gets himself into next and how he manages to get out of it?

And, most importantly, why the hell do I get these US magazine "breaking news" emails anyhow? Who signed me up for this crap? Lindsay Lohan?

Does anyone else lose brain cells when they try to follow celebrity news? It almost makes me want to follow the elections more closely.

You know, because real breaking news would be a headline like this: Rand Paul is not crazy.

Ha ha ha ha ha

Crossing the line

2010-10-26T09:48:00.002-05:00

I have a friend -- a real friend, not one I met on the Internet -- who sends me tons of e-mails on various topics throughout the course of the day. A lot of them are forwards, with or without her personal commentary. Some of them are just funny, "Hey, look at what I saw on the Internet;" some are urban legends (I used to reply back with a link to snopes.com, until she sent an email out about how snopes.com is just liberal propaganda); and, speaking of propaganda, a lot of her e-mails are crazy-ass, right-wing bullshit.

I don't know if she reads my blog or not. I guess we might find out. And, I've never responded negatively to her e-mails, even though some of them have insulted me to the core of my being.

Why, you ask?

Well, because she is a good person with a kind heart. Everyone has their own political beliefs, although sometimes I wonder if people use "political beliefs" to hide behind some other beliefs from some of what I've read... She's just of a different generation. At least she keeps in touch.

So, even though Barack Obama isn't a Muslim, has a birth certificate and is no less capable of being president than any other native son just because his skin's a little darker, I've never gone off on her or called her out. Even when she sends me crazy Glenn Beck rants that are flat-out wrong, I never correct her.

There's no point. Much like I'm never going to read one of her right-wing e-mails (well, what I read of them, most of them hit the trash because the subjects piss me off) and become a Republican, she's not going to suddenly believe that Obama was born in Hawaii because I e-mail her a PDF of his birth certificate (it's readily available all over the Internet, for any loony toonies who are interested).

As for being insulted, for those of you who may be new, I have my lovely cunada (how do I make a tilde on here?!), Senorita Benitez, and mi sobrino favorito, Juanito en la familia. Translation: My sister-in-law Miss Benitez (now Mrs. Richards Benitez) and my favorite nephew John in my family. Anyhow, I don't take jokes about spics and beaners and whatever else nastiness people come up with, very lightly. I'm color blind and I don't care whether you have your papers or not. It's not my concern, nor is it anyone else's as long as you are a valuable member of society. And let's face it, no American with papers is going to pick oranges for $5/bushel. It's not really legal anyhow. And god forbid the price of Tropicana go up.

But, still, her Mexican jokes took me aback, but never once did I try to make a right with two wrongs by going on the defensive. Even when I wanted to lash out because it hurt me and my family. I just let it go. I shouldn't, I know. I should stand up for mis amigos y mi familia (my friends and family). And, for the most part I do. You don't want to debate immigration reform with me, and you sure as hell don't want to let me know you're a racist.

Yet, none of that really pissed me off. Different generation, head full of Fox News propaganda. Sometimes you can't help it.

Until today. Today, I get an email about the "truth about the pink ribbon campaign." I won't bore you with all the details, but suffice it to say, breast cancer awareness is some big sham created by the pharmaceutical companies and it won't ever cure breast cancer because they don't want it to. Masectomies, chemo, radiation, medications -- all part of the sham. Getting the cancer removed can't actually save you, according to this email. It just makes you look like a deformed freak, who's still full of cancer.

Now, I am not a doctor. And I don't know who started the pink ribbon campaign. I do know that I give money to Susan G. Komen every year, and I can't believe that someone wouldn't have called them out if they didn't give that money to scientists who were working on a cure. And I also know that regardless of how close we are to finding a cure for cancer (which is no easy feat, I might add) that the pink ribbon campaign is important. If you don't believe me, ask one of my best friends who lost her mom to this horrible disease. Next year, she gets the genetic testing and, if she has the gene, she plans to go ahead and get a masectomy to try to prevent cancer. Is that really any different from eating whole foods or stopping smoking? I don't think it is.

Whether the pink ribbon ever cures cancer or not, it has brought awareness to the cause. Because 26 years ago (when the campaign first started) you still talked about cancer, especially breast cancer, in whispers. I know this, because that's about the time that my mom's best friend got diagnosed with this horrible disease. And we always whispered about Cindy's cancer. Hell, that's how you knew it was bad, when people whispered about it.

Now, 26 years later, we have "feel your boobies" and "save the ta-tas" campaigns. The valet at the Hard Rock Cafe last night was wearing a pink polo shirt and the restaurant had a line of pink drinks, with a portion of the costs going to breast cancer. And no one whispers anymore. When we talk about Shay's mom, we don't whisper. When we talk about Shay maybe having to get her breasts removed, we don't whisper. Hell, we tell people to feel their boobies and save their tatas.

I love that this month is one big, giant ball of pink awareness. And, you know what? I will bet every dime I have (although it's close to pay day, so that's not much) that this pink ribbon campaign has saved lives. Because now we shout "feel your boobies" instead of whispering "she has the breast cancer," and I bet at least one woman has heard us, given herself an exam and found a lump in time to fight the cancer and beat it.

Yeah, definitely, at least one.

Happy Pinktober, everyone. Don't forget to feel your boobies!

Falling in love again

2010-10-21T12:07:00.002-05:00

It's fall again, so that means my favorite time of year has arrived. Apple cider, caramel apples, trick-or-treaters ... I am ready for it all.

I've even been watching football this year, although after last fall, I've realized that watching football by yourself is pretty lame. Well, I guess it's lame after the company I've had the past few falls.

We're having a Halloween party this weekend. That should be fun. Nothing major, just some snacks and hopefully everyone will wear costumes.

As for falling in love with anything besides autumn, I'm not sure how I feel about that. As you can see, this time of year reminds me that I'm not a huge fan of doing things that are fun with men (like watching football) by myself. But, at the same time, I'm not a huge fan of men's nonsense.

And, it's always there. Even when you think a cat can change his stripes, they always reappear. Generally when you least expect them.

Politics 101

2010-10-07T11:01:00.004-05:00

Last night, I went to a fundraiser for the Nashville Women's Political Caucus. It was a great event, and they invited me to participate in their future leaders program next week. So, I'm pretty geeked about that.

For those of you who may be new, I have a degree in political science. I always thought I'd be some big-time political operative, or, at the very least, live out of my rusted out Chevy Lumina while working for the next Harry Truman or something.

Then, real life, with all its student loans and total craziness happened upon me. I went back to Detroit, dove into a new world with the car guys, and gave up the dream of full-time politics.

That's not to say that I didn't get in with the auto unions -- the real car guys -- and spend my weekends and evenings eating finger foods with Debbie Stabenow or going door-to-door for John Dingell. Because I did. A lot. I love people and want to do whatever I can to help all humans, but my real Democratic roots come from being the daughter of a second-generation American auto worker.

Well, that and my commitment to Catholic social teaching. Which, somedays, it seems like the church isn't committed to.

But I digress. This is not supposed a political rant. Just some political guidance from your favorite armchair quarterback.

I want to give everyone one little piece of advice for this election. I know that people are pissed off with America and fed up with the way things are in this country. We all feel that way. But, remember what your grandma said about throwing the baby out with the bath water.

Despite what you're hearing on TV ads, voting the old guys out of Washington isn't going to fix the problem. Yeah, some of the people in Washington are despicable, but so are some of the people running against them. But most of the people are there are just hard-working, everyday men and women just like you and me, who are trying to make a difference. They don't deserve to be voted out because you're pissed off at the President.

Or more likely, you're pissed off at the former president, because Obama hasn't really had time to screw things up like if he'd been given free rein on the executive orders and eight years like some other people. You can be pissed off at "Obamacare," if you want. I know I am, but only because it doesn't do enough, like tell the insurance companies to go fuck themselves because America isn't going to be the only nation with for-profit healthcare anymore.

This is probably why I don't get to be president. Well, that and the fact that I am not 35. Or a man.

This all brings me to today's point (see, I almost always have one). Special interests are the problems with American politics today.

It's not the Kennedys or the McCains or even Sarah Palin. It's the big money, special interest lobbies that run this country that are the problems. Just like health care reform. We didn't really get anything done (contrary to what Rush Limbaugh might want you to believe) because Blue Cross/Blue Shield and Kaiser, who have big ass, shining skyscraper offices in DC, gave tons of money to all the candidates to make sure that they protected their bottom lines.

Even my beloved car companies squash public transit bills and fuel economy standards because it affects their profits.

When you're picking a candidate this fall, don't look at the Ds and the Rs. Don't say "Fuck you, old guy, I'm voting for this random person no one's ever heard of!" Don't pay attention to the ads you see on TV. Instead, I want you to actually do your homework and see where the money is coming from. For example, 91% of all the money given to the Tea Party is from a handful of billionaires. Who's in the pocket of big oil? Who's in the pocket of the health insurance companies? Even who's in the pocket of the UAW and the car companies?

Try to find the guy who is truly for you and me. It will be hard and it will require some work and reseach. It's a lot harder than voting for whomever is blowing up Glen Beck's skirt this week. Or even Rachel Maddow's. Turn off the TV and look on non-partisan watchdog groups' websites. Find out where the money is coming from. Find out who is truly and honestly most aligned with your values and who will truly and honestly go to Washington to represent you.

It takes a lot of money to get elected, and everyone takes money from someone. But I'd feel better about someone who took money from a teacher's union than someone who took money from SarahPAC. And, look at the amounts, too. For example, Blue Cross gives just about everyone 500 bucks. It's when they give your guy 5000 bucks or 50,000 or start running ads for him that you need to start to worry.

Get involved in the process. Regardless of who wins, let your elected officials know how you feel on issues. Visit their local offices or stop by if you happen to be in DC. Call them and talk to his aides. If you support him, attend a fundraiser and get to know him better. I can guarantee if you put a little effort into it, it will pay off in the long run.

We need to stop letting government happen to us. We need to stand up to the people who don't care about anything but making money.

After all, as one of my great heroes, Tip O'Neill, said: All politics is local.

A lover, not a fighter

2010-10-06T10:32:00.002-05:00

In the past, some folks have taken occasion to insinuate (or flat-out say) that I am a drama mama and I thrive on a good conflict.

Those people are smoking big, giant crack rocks that would make Whitney Houston proud.

I hate fighting with people. I hate conflict. I am the first one to back down when I sense a fight coming up. I will walk away as you shout out me before I dive into the fray. I don't like to fight. I'm a communitarian. In my utopia, everyone holds hands and sings kumbiyah all the time (John Mayer is leading this sing-along with his acoustic -- after all it is utopia).

OK, maybe we don't hold hands. I don't really like holding strangers' hands. I sit by myself at church so no one will want to hold my hands during the Lord's Prayer. It creeps me out.

Anyhow, fighting is bad. No good ever comes from it. Feelings are hurt, and assholes are never anything but assholes.

Recently, I was asked to join the board of a nonprofit organization here in Nashville. Normally I would not be inclined to do such a thing, but I was there when the organization was founded and it's something that I believe in. I was not asked because of whom I know or how much money I have, which is a good thing, because I am just an everyday person. But now, that is becoming my detriment.

There is a person who doesn't want me on the board because she looks down upon me. Now I can guarantee I know people in this town who could buy and sell all of her friends, even if I don't drop their names every 22 seconds. In fact, I find most name-droppers do that because they don't really know shit. And from her own donor history, I am guessing that she probably talks a really big game.

I could fight her. In fact, I've already lined up a pretty big celebrity to participate in our spring fundraiser next year. I think that's going to be a pretty good opportunity. Of course, it's months off, but I can guarantee that she's not nominating the pet of a major country artist to be Nashville's Top Dog.

But, I'm tired. It's exhausting trying to prove myself, especially when it's not necessary. You all know, I don't beg people to like me and I don't blah blah blah on about myself in order to prove my worth. I am what I am, and if you don't like that, you're more than free to go fuck yourself.

I don't want to do it. I just don't have the energy. I work 65 hours a week because I don't have a rich husband to pay my bills, nor do I ever see that happening for me. I like working. I also like helping people, but I do not like people who give me attitude while I am trying to help. Volunteers, especially those who go the extra mile, should be appreciated not treated like shit.

Because otherwise, one day you'll look up and they'll be walking away as you're shouting over their shoulders at them.

The joys of homeownership

2010-09-16T15:52:00.002-05:00

No, I am not being facetious, like when I spend all my money at Lowe's on paint and supplies or when my neighbor bogarts my parking space. I really am joyful about owning my own home.

You can all remind me when the next thing goes wrong.

Even though it required something going wrong, I love my new kitchen faucet. Much more user-friendly. And less cheap-looking.

I am finally getting things organized. I guess inviting everyone you know to a party will do that for you.

My new buffet is built, and my Fiesta is going to look awesome in it. And, while we're on the topic of new furniture, I found a really cool kitchen table at a furniture store that I need to go order. And then, I will be all done furniture shopping.

Can we get a "hell yeah" for that, please?

I heard a report today from the home front that the downstairs bathroom is now pink. All we need to do is add our black and white accessories, and we should be ready to rock and roll. I will post pictures soon, because I am super-geeked that I took inspiration and rolled with it.

I am switching from cable to satellite, and they are giving me a free TV to do this. I am going to put the new one in the den, and move the old one to the living room. This was a hard decision because I really wanted the living room to be a place where you sat and talked and hung out and weren't focused on the old boob-tube, but my awesome couch would just be so comfy for watching movies... We figure if we tuck the old TV in the corner, then it still won't be the focal point of the room, especially once we get the fireplace build out in there.

Do you have a TV in your living room? Any feelings on it either way?

Aside from that, life is pretty boring. I am working a lot at Babies R Us, but that's a good thing. I am hoping to start getting ahead sometime soon. Especially now that the only home improvement thing I can think of that I need is paint for the upstairs bathrooms.

It is nice being a homeowner. It's nice having my own space (even though it's a lot more to clean). There have been some bumps along the road, but it really is worth it.