Sunday, March 23, 2008

Unconscious Mutterings

I say ... And You Think:

1. Money :: Hungry
2. Unhappy :: Happens
3. Joking :: Kidding. Maybe.
4. Chipmunk :: Cheeks
5. Date :: Hot
6. Slideshow :: Hours upon hours of entertainment (See #3)
7. Chicago :: Take the train for awesome architecture, shopping, food, and Seurat in the Museum of Art.
8. Lifetime :: You get one. Make it good.
9. Skid Row :: That would not be the way to do it (See #8)
10. Edward :: Scissorhands

Well, it's certainly not the chicks and bunnies and peeps edition, now is it?

Unconscious Mutterings

I say ... And You Think:

1. Money :: Hungry
2. Unhappy :: Happens
3. Joking :: Kidding. Maybe.
4. Chipmunk :: Cheeks
5. Date :: Hot
6. Slideshow :: Hours upon hours of entertainment (See #3)
7. Chicago :: Take the train for awesome architecture, shopping, food, and Seurat in the Museum of Art.
8. Lifetime :: You get one. Make it good.
9. Skid Row :: That would not be the way to do it (See #8)
10. Edward :: Scissorhands

Well, it's certainly not the chicks and bunnies and peeps edition, now is it?

Monday, March 17, 2008

January Nubbins

Since the temperature has finally climbed above only-fit-for-a-Yeti-cold, I've been wandering outside checking for nubbins. I love nubbins. They can be the itsiest of bitsiest barely poking out of the ground nubbins, but the discovery of these little guys is so important to my psyche, they might as well come with a garish neon sign that says YOU MADE IT, BABY!

I'm pleased to say, the nubbins are back.

The garden so far is still a winter wreck. It's muddy, leafy and generally bleaugh, but dammit, there are nubbins here, there, and everywhere, which means all is good.

Along the driveway, some of them are a bit larger than the rest. These are actually January nubbins, otherwise known as those silly flowers that thought the 3-day winter thaw meant spring was here and it was time to wake up and start growing again. If only. If only.

The good thing about a freak winter thaw is that it gives us super duper procrastinators a chance to plant more bulbs (hell YES we did). The bad thing about a freak winter thaw is that once it's over, winter returns. Often with a vengeance. A painfully extended, bitterly cold vengeance. With long nasty teeth.

But January nubbins don't know good from bad, and once they've committed to growing, they can't smoosh themselves back into the bulb, hit snooze and wait for the alarm to go off thirty sixty ninety-nine days later. So they just stop where they are and wait. Sure, their little green nubbiny heads get snowed on and they freeze up, but amazingly, they're OK. They just bide their time and wait until it's safe to come out-come out wherever they are and start growing again. Their early growth might be a little worse for wear due to perils of snow and ice and shovels and snowblowers, but I'm telling you, January nubbins are troopers. When they feel warmth, they start to grow. But if it's not the right time, they don't defiantly keep growing anyway. They don't give up, and they don't wither away and die. They're wise enough to stop and wait for the right time. And when they feel the warmth yet again -- one, two, three, even four months later -- they simply start again.

On the outside the garden is still gray and shmucky, But packed inside every little nubbin is a lesson of timing, patience, strength, resilience, hope, promise, renewal and life. Like the nubbins, I'm glad to have made it through the winter. Lately it's seemed like I've been frozen, not ready, willing or able to move. But looking back over the past few months I'm glad I was strong enough to hold on, because holding on was all that was necessary. And now, it's feeling warm again. I think it's time to grow.


January Nubbins

Since the temperature has finally climbed above only-fit-for-a-Yeti-cold, I've been wandering outside checking for nubbins. I love nubbins. They can be the itsiest of bitsiest barely poking out of the ground nubbins, but the discovery of these little guys is so important to my psyche, they might as well come with a garish neon sign that says YOU MADE IT, BABY!

I'm pleased to say, the nubbins are back.

The garden so far is still a winter wreck. It's muddy, leafy and generally bleaugh, but dammit, there are nubbins here, there, and everywhere, which means all is good.

Along the driveway, some of them are a bit larger than the rest. These are actually January nubbins, otherwise known as those silly flowers that thought the 3-day winter thaw meant spring was here and it was time to wake up and start growing again. If only. If only.

The good thing about a freak winter thaw is that it gives us super duper procrastinators a chance to plant more bulbs (hell YES we did). The bad thing about a freak winter thaw is that once it's over, winter returns. Often with a vengeance. A painfully extended, bitterly cold vengeance. With long nasty teeth.

But January nubbins don't know good from bad, and once they've committed to growing, they can't smoosh themselves back into the bulb, hit snooze and wait for the alarm to go off thirty sixty ninety-nine days later. So they just stop where they are and wait. Sure, their little green nubbiny heads get snowed on and they freeze up, but amazingly, they're OK. They just bide their time and wait until it's safe to come out-come out wherever they are and start growing again. Their early growth might be a little worse for wear due to perils of snow and ice and shovels and snowblowers, but I'm telling you, January nubbins are troopers. When they feel warmth, they start to grow. But if it's not the right time, they don't defiantly keep growing anyway. They don't give up, and they don't wither away and die. They're wise enough to stop and wait for the right time. And when they feel the warmth yet again -- one, two, three, even four months later -- they simply start again.

On the outside the garden is still gray and shmucky, But packed inside every little nubbin is a lesson of timing, patience, strength, resilience, hope, promise, renewal and life. Like the nubbins, I'm glad to have made it through the winter. Lately it's seemed like I've been frozen, not ready, willing or able to move. But looking back over the past few months I'm glad I was strong enough to hold on, because holding on was all that was necessary. And now, it's feeling warm again. I think it's time to grow.


Monday, March 10, 2008

Would You Like Some Fries with Your Catch-Up?

So, yeah. I've been working 60+ hours a week. Plus that mothering thing. Hilarity does NOT ensue. Exhaustion, however, is stuck to me like Barnacle Bill. I have NO IDEA what that means, but I'm sticking with it.

First of all, work. Yeah, just not going there. Think a refrigerator full of biological experiments combined with a bathtub full of biological experiments, combined with a litter pan full of....well, you get the idea. That's work, which is just plain sucky and sad. Moving on.

Is it fair to complain about the weather? I know I live in a weather state. I know snow is a part of the annual equation. And although this past weekend we managed (for maybe only the first or second time all winter) to dodge the snow storm of the century, this has been a long, hard, cold, snowy, hateful past few months. I'm definitely winter-weary. Tonight we went outside looking for any sort of green nubbins. There are a few just starting to poke out of the ground. Please, please, please let us see something green. Or yellow. Or purple. Just no more snow. Oh, and sorry Ohio. Sucks to be you this week. I'm sure we'll get our turn again soon enough.

This weekend I did a little singing for an annual Church Cabaret gig and I SANG A SAD SONG. Unheard of! I'm usually brought on for something fast, loud and showoffish. I'm the comic relief, or the antidote for the preceding 87 angsty ballads. This year I sang one requisite fast, loud and showoffish song. And then (to quote TeenTuna) OMG!! I sang a slow, sad song. On purpose. Because I wanted to. And I liked it. Mwahaha.

Older brother turns half-century today. I spent Sunday afternoon counting out 50 pennies, 50 Whoppers (chocolate, not creepy King variety), 50 pringles, 50 peanuts, 50 PEEPS (PEEPS!), 50 electrical whoozits, 50 nails, 50 hot dogs, 50 batteries..... They all went into a Home Depot pail with a gift certificate for his Big Bucket 'o 50. It's so rare when anybody in my family gets a "regular" present from me. See: Mwahaha (above)

Facebook, that online social crack where I spy on keep in touch with my college kids had a "book shelf" application I added to my page. I listed books I was reading, had already read, and wanted to read someday. I added several titles to all three columns and forgot about it. About a week ago, Facebook emailed me and had the nerve to ask me AREN'T YOU DONE READING THESE BOOKS YET? Dear Facebook: Bite me. "Reading books" just means they are within reach in both the short-term (can't stay long because the legs are falling asleep) lots (bathroom) and the long-term (can't stay awake so I have to keep rereading the same 5 pages every night) lots (bedroom). So, no. I'm not done yet. Check with me again in July.

Big Brother. These people are insane. I really have no time to watch the daily feeds, but I catch up on the broadcast show and housecalls. But seriously. This season they're nuts. Moving on.
Project Runway. WHY DON'T I GET BRAVO?? I saw it anyway. And liked it.
Survivor. Dunno. Still kinda warming up to it. I'm cracking up that Cerie has got the manipulation mojo working overtime.
Idol. Still haven't seen any yet. I'll check back in when it's down to 12. (See: working 60 hours)

TeenTuna and I got new passports. Her picture? Cute as all get out. My picture? Words cannot describe. My first set was SO BAD I decided to get retakes at the post office the next day when we processed the paperwork. The result? If passport picture #1 was a 7/100 on the fugly scale, the retake was optimistically a 9/100 on the fugly scale. My picture might as well say, "please take me to that small room and interrogate me right now." And speaking of paperwork, they realized that my older passport technically wasn't expired, so I had to fill out a separate form explaining how I lost it and where it was and all the steps I took to find it. I wanted to write in Big Black Permanent Sharpie: IF YOU EVER SAW MY BASEMENT, YOU'D UNDERSTAND.

So, while I play catchup, I'll multi-task and redo the Musical Horoscope Meme for March.
WITH NO CHEATING AND NO SKIPPING

Here's how it works:
1. Put your iTunes on Shuffle.
2. For each question, press the next button to get your answer.
3. You must write that song name down no matter what.

Q. What would best describe your personality?
A. "December"
(Cold. Dreary. Endless. Dark. Lately, not far off the mark)


Q. If some one says it's okay you say...
A. "Just One of Those Things" (Ella Fitzgerald)
(Roll with the punches, baby)

Q. What do you like in a guy/girl?
A. "Ascendo ad Patrem"
(Evidently I like them dead and Latin)

Q.How do you feel today?
A. "A Baby Just Like You"
(At the very least, I'm in need of a bottle and a nap)


Q.What is your life's purpose?
A. "Rabbit Hole" (Alice in Wonderland. Soundtrack)
(A life turned upside down in the rabbit hole? Do you suppose this means my purpose is to play croquet with the queen? Well, I have been known to play both chess and croquet, however I don't much care for hats (glad or mad) or tea)

Q. What is your motto?
A. "Simple Joys" (Pippin)
(OK. Simply awesome. This made me smile because it's totally true. A song so good, I had to play it twice. OK, thrice)

Q. What do your friends think of you?
A. "Lovliest of Trees"
(Wow. No clue here. Maybe my bark is worse than my bite? Ba-DUMP-bump.)

Q. What do you think of your friends?
A. "Sanctus - Coeli et Terra" (Orlando Consort & Perfect Houseplants)
(So, it seems weird, but it kind of fits. This is standard mass text performed in weirdly merged Gregorian chant/Jazz style. Those are my friends. Familiar, standard, regular and reliable -- but with a distinctive flair and twist. And you might think it sounds totally weird but it -- and they -- always just work. And you can't help but smile and think just how COOL it is)

Q. What do you think of your parents?
A. "The Mirror" (Spring Awakening)
(Moving. On.)

Q.What do your parents think of you?
A. "Greeks" (Eddie Izzard)
(Although I'm not an executive transvestite, I am funny and a bit off...)

Q. What do you think about very often?
A. "Getter Better" (Beatles)
(I can swing with that)


Q. What do you think of your best friend?
A. "Body & Soul"
(Slow and jazzy?)


Q. What do you think of the person you love?
A. "Still Love Friday"
(No matter what else happens, I can always count on Friday showing up once every seven days.)

Q.What is your life story?
A. "Fun to be Fooled"
(Fools rush in... Well, if I'm going to be fooled again, at least it's to a Harold Arlen soundtrack, and that can never be bad)


Q. What do you want to be when you grow up?
A. "Bargaining: But Today?"
(Yeah. Do I really have to grow up TODAY?)

Q. What do you think when you see the person you love?
A. "Misty" (Sarah Vaughan)
(Awwwww. "Look at me. I'm as helpless as a kitten up a tree." Seriously one of my most favorite jazz tunes.)

Q. What is your hobby/interest?
A. "Midday" (Yusuf -- who is NOT CAT STEVENS)
(Does this mean LUNCH?)


Q. What will they play at your funeral?
A. "There is no Rose of virtue"
(Well, once I die, there won't be anymore, now WILL there? But you know, I could do without the tootling recorders at my funeral, no offense to recorder tootlers)

Q. What is your biggest secret?
A. "I Wanna Be Around (Tony Bennnett and Bono)
(I'm not sure how big of a secret it is, but it's better than the alternative, right?)


OK. It's late. I've finally posted. I'll try to be around a bit more often.
Thanks for being patient.

Would You Like Some Fries with Your Catch-Up?

So, yeah. I've been working 60+ hours a week. Plus that mothering thing. Hilarity does NOT ensue. Exhaustion, however, is stuck to me like Barnacle Bill. I have NO IDEA what that means, but I'm sticking with it.

First of all, work. Yeah, just not going there. Think a refrigerator full of biological experiments combined with a bathtub full of biological experiments, combined with a litter pan full of....well, you get the idea. That's work, which is just plain sucky and sad. Moving on.

Is it fair to complain about the weather? I know I live in a weather state. I know snow is a part of the annual equation. And although this past weekend we managed (for maybe only the first or second time all winter) to dodge the snow storm of the century, this has been a long, hard, cold, snowy, hateful past few months. I'm definitely winter-weary. Tonight we went outside looking for any sort of green nubbins. There are a few just starting to poke out of the ground. Please, please, please let us see something green. Or yellow. Or purple. Just no more snow. Oh, and sorry Ohio. Sucks to be you this week. I'm sure we'll get our turn again soon enough.

This weekend I did a little singing for an annual Church Cabaret gig and I SANG A SAD SONG. Unheard of! I'm usually brought on for something fast, loud and showoffish. I'm the comic relief, or the antidote for the preceding 87 angsty ballads. This year I sang one requisite fast, loud and showoffish song. And then (to quote TeenTuna) OMG!! I sang a slow, sad song. On purpose. Because I wanted to. And I liked it. Mwahaha.

Older brother turns half-century today. I spent Sunday afternoon counting out 50 pennies, 50 Whoppers (chocolate, not creepy King variety), 50 pringles, 50 peanuts, 50 PEEPS (PEEPS!), 50 electrical whoozits, 50 nails, 50 hot dogs, 50 batteries..... They all went into a Home Depot pail with a gift certificate for his Big Bucket 'o 50. It's so rare when anybody in my family gets a "regular" present from me. See: Mwahaha (above)

Facebook, that online social crack where I spy on keep in touch with my college kids had a "book shelf" application I added to my page. I listed books I was reading, had already read, and wanted to read someday. I added several titles to all three columns and forgot about it. About a week ago, Facebook emailed me and had the nerve to ask me AREN'T YOU DONE READING THESE BOOKS YET? Dear Facebook: Bite me. "Reading books" just means they are within reach in both the short-term (can't stay long because the legs are falling asleep) lots (bathroom) and the long-term (can't stay awake so I have to keep rereading the same 5 pages every night) lots (bedroom). So, no. I'm not done yet. Check with me again in July.

Big Brother. These people are insane. I really have no time to watch the daily feeds, but I catch up on the broadcast show and housecalls. But seriously. This season they're nuts. Moving on.
Project Runway. WHY DON'T I GET BRAVO?? I saw it anyway. And liked it.
Survivor. Dunno. Still kinda warming up to it. I'm cracking up that Cerie has got the manipulation mojo working overtime.
Idol. Still haven't seen any yet. I'll check back in when it's down to 12. (See: working 60 hours)

TeenTuna and I got new passports. Her picture? Cute as all get out. My picture? Words cannot describe. My first set was SO BAD I decided to get retakes at the post office the next day when we processed the paperwork. The result? If passport picture #1 was a 7/100 on the fugly scale, the retake was optimistically a 9/100 on the fugly scale. My picture might as well say, "please take me to that small room and interrogate me right now." And speaking of paperwork, they realized that my older passport technically wasn't expired, so I had to fill out a separate form explaining how I lost it and where it was and all the steps I took to find it. I wanted to write in Big Black Permanent Sharpie: IF YOU EVER SAW MY BASEMENT, YOU'D UNDERSTAND.

So, while I play catchup, I'll multi-task and redo the Musical Horoscope Meme for March.
WITH NO CHEATING AND NO SKIPPING

Here's how it works:
1. Put your iTunes on Shuffle.
2. For each question, press the next button to get your answer.
3. You must write that song name down no matter what.

Q. What would best describe your personality?
A. "December"
(Cold. Dreary. Endless. Dark. Lately, not far off the mark)


Q. If some one says it's okay you say...
A. "Just One of Those Things" (Ella Fitzgerald)
(Roll with the punches, baby)

Q. What do you like in a guy/girl?
A. "Ascendo ad Patrem"
(Evidently I like them dead and Latin)

Q.How do you feel today?
A. "A Baby Just Like You"
(At the very least, I'm in need of a bottle and a nap)


Q.What is your life's purpose?
A. "Rabbit Hole" (Alice in Wonderland. Soundtrack)
(A life turned upside down in the rabbit hole? Do you suppose this means my purpose is to play croquet with the queen? Well, I have been known to play both chess and croquet, however I don't much care for hats (glad or mad) or tea)

Q. What is your motto?
A. "Simple Joys" (Pippin)
(OK. Simply awesome. This made me smile because it's totally true. A song so good, I had to play it twice. OK, thrice)

Q. What do your friends think of you?
A. "Lovliest of Trees"
(Wow. No clue here. Maybe my bark is worse than my bite? Ba-DUMP-bump.)

Q. What do you think of your friends?
A. "Sanctus - Coeli et Terra" (Orlando Consort & Perfect Houseplants)
(So, it seems weird, but it kind of fits. This is standard mass text performed in weirdly merged Gregorian chant/Jazz style. Those are my friends. Familiar, standard, regular and reliable -- but with a distinctive flair and twist. And you might think it sounds totally weird but it -- and they -- always just work. And you can't help but smile and think just how COOL it is)

Q. What do you think of your parents?
A. "The Mirror" (Spring Awakening)
(Moving. On.)

Q.What do your parents think of you?
A. "Greeks" (Eddie Izzard)
(Although I'm not an executive transvestite, I am funny and a bit off...)

Q. What do you think about very often?
A. "Getter Better" (Beatles)
(I can swing with that)


Q. What do you think of your best friend?
A. "Body & Soul"
(Slow and jazzy?)


Q. What do you think of the person you love?
A. "Still Love Friday"
(No matter what else happens, I can always count on Friday showing up once every seven days.)

Q.What is your life story?
A. "Fun to be Fooled"
(Fools rush in... Well, if I'm going to be fooled again, at least it's to a Harold Arlen soundtrack, and that can never be bad)


Q. What do you want to be when you grow up?
A. "Bargaining: But Today?"
(Yeah. Do I really have to grow up TODAY?)

Q. What do you think when you see the person you love?
A. "Misty" (Sarah Vaughan)
(Awwwww. "Look at me. I'm as helpless as a kitten up a tree." Seriously one of my most favorite jazz tunes.)

Q. What is your hobby/interest?
A. "Midday" (Yusuf -- who is NOT CAT STEVENS)
(Does this mean LUNCH?)


Q. What will they play at your funeral?
A. "There is no Rose of virtue"
(Well, once I die, there won't be anymore, now WILL there? But you know, I could do without the tootling recorders at my funeral, no offense to recorder tootlers)

Q. What is your biggest secret?
A. "I Wanna Be Around (Tony Bennnett and Bono)
(I'm not sure how big of a secret it is, but it's better than the alternative, right?)


OK. It's late. I've finally posted. I'll try to be around a bit more often.
Thanks for being patient.

Sunday, March 09, 2008

Unconscious Mutterings

I say ... And You Think:

1. Homicide :: Murder

2. Divisive :: Politics

3. Flash :: Back

4. Steaming :: Cup of Hot Chocolate

5. Crunch :: Abs

6. Look Out! :: Uh-Oh!!

7. Anticipating :: Waiting...waiting...waiting...

8. Slim :: Skinny

9. Navel :: Orange

10. Help :: Help!


Hoping nobody will notice I've been a bit AWOL if I sneak in through the back door and post a little meme.

Unconscious Mutterings

I say ... And You Think:

1. Homicide :: Murder

2. Divisive :: Politics

3. Flash :: Back

4. Steaming :: Cup of Hot Chocolate

5. Crunch :: Abs

6. Look Out! :: Uh-Oh!!

7. Anticipating :: Waiting...waiting...waiting...

8. Slim :: Skinny

9. Navel :: Orange

10. Help :: Help!


Hoping nobody will notice I've been a bit AWOL if I sneak in through the back door and post a little meme.