I swore that my room was going to be painted by the end of this weekend. By a bit of luck and a bucket full of stubborn determination, my "failure is not an option" attitude won out and I'm now sitting in a freshly painted bedroom. It's about halfway put back together, which is no small miracle considering the adventures I went through with the new bed frame and the missing hardware. I have some new kick-ass window treatments, courtesy of the misfortunes of Linens 'n Liquidations 'n Things. I even got the employee to dismantle some displays to get me some hardware I wanted.
So, it will be a few more days arranging and rearranging furniture and getting things back in order. For now, I'm happy not to be spending another night on the couch, and I'm looking forward to putting this project in the "done" column.
Sunday, November 30, 2008
Beautiful, Beautiful Yellow
I swore that my room was going to be painted by the end of this weekend. By a bit of luck and a bucket full of stubborn determination, my "failure is not an option" attitude won out and I'm now sitting in a freshly painted bedroom. It's about halfway put back together, which is no small miracle considering the adventures I went through with the new bed frame and the missing hardware. I have some new kick-ass window treatments, courtesy of the misfortunes of Linens 'n Liquidations 'n Things. I even got the employee to dismantle some displays to get me some hardware I wanted.
So, it will be a few more days arranging and rearranging furniture and getting things back in order. For now, I'm happy not to be spending another night on the couch, and I'm looking forward to putting this project in the "done" column.
So, it will be a few more days arranging and rearranging furniture and getting things back in order. For now, I'm happy not to be spending another night on the couch, and I'm looking forward to putting this project in the "done" column.
Saturday, November 29, 2008
Unconscious Mutterings
I say ... And YOU think :
1. Sleepy :: Tired
2. Thanksgiving :: Holiday
3. Fifteen :: Going on Sixteen
4. Authority :: Respect mah!
5. Bangs :: Hair
6. Curled :: Hair
7. Young Man :: Lad
8. Surprised :: Agog
9. Mistake :: Whoops
10. Handle it :: With care
Yes. I really thought of "agog".....
1. Sleepy :: Tired
2. Thanksgiving :: Holiday
3. Fifteen :: Going on Sixteen
4. Authority :: Respect mah!
5. Bangs :: Hair
6. Curled :: Hair
7. Young Man :: Lad
8. Surprised :: Agog
9. Mistake :: Whoops
10. Handle it :: With care
Yes. I really thought of "agog".....
Unconscious Mutterings
I say ... And YOU think :
1. Sleepy :: Tired
2. Thanksgiving :: Holiday
3. Fifteen :: Going on Sixteen
4. Authority :: Respect mah!
5. Bangs :: Hair
6. Curled :: Hair
7. Young Man :: Lad
8. Surprised :: Agog
9. Mistake :: Whoops
10. Handle it :: With care
Yes. I really thought of "agog".....
1. Sleepy :: Tired
2. Thanksgiving :: Holiday
3. Fifteen :: Going on Sixteen
4. Authority :: Respect mah!
5. Bangs :: Hair
6. Curled :: Hair
7. Young Man :: Lad
8. Surprised :: Agog
9. Mistake :: Whoops
10. Handle it :: With care
Yes. I really thought of "agog".....
Friday, November 28, 2008
Black and White Friday
Today wasn't shopping
Today was clear the room
Spackle the room
Sand the room
Prime the room
Prime the room again
Paint the ceiling
Collapse on the couch.
Today might be "Black Friday" but in my world...and in my hair...and on my clothes...
it's all white.
Tomorrow? COLOR.
Too awesome for words.
Today was clear the room
Spackle the room
Sand the room
Prime the room
Prime the room again
Paint the ceiling
Collapse on the couch.
Today might be "Black Friday" but in my world...and in my hair...and on my clothes...
it's all white.
Tomorrow? COLOR.
Too awesome for words.
Black and White Friday
Today wasn't shopping
Today was clear the room
Spackle the room
Sand the room
Prime the room
Prime the room again
Paint the ceiling
Collapse on the couch.
Today might be "Black Friday" but in my world...and in my hair...and on my clothes...
it's all white.
Tomorrow? COLOR.
Too awesome for words.
Today was clear the room
Spackle the room
Sand the room
Prime the room
Prime the room again
Paint the ceiling
Collapse on the couch.
Today might be "Black Friday" but in my world...and in my hair...and on my clothes...
it's all white.
Tomorrow? COLOR.
Too awesome for words.
Thursday, November 27, 2008
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
Pilgrim's Progress
Thanksgiving is an interesting holiday, to be sure. From enormous balloons in New York City, to the annual drubbing of the Detroit Lions on TV, to the welcoming of Santa, to family feasts of epic proportions to the 500-page newspapers (485 of which are ads) prepping us for Black Friday, I can't help but be reminded of the old advertising jingle, "You've come a long way, baby!" But the question is, come from- and going to- .... where?
I would never profess to be any sort of expert in Pilgrim life or history. For the most part, my education has been cobbled together from PBS, The History Channel, historical fiction and nonfiction books, and, A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving where they ate popcorn and toast. Suffice it to say, I am aware of my limitations.
But I have to imagine that way back in Pilgrim days, there probably weren't weeks upon weeks of planning for the big feast. There wouldn't have been festive decorations with holiday ribbons, faux plastic leaves and gourds. There wouldn't have been meticulous planning around the whimsical likes and dislikes of the guests -- be it for food or for people -- and the hosts wouldn't have turned themselves inside out with panic thinking the entire event "wasn't good enough."
Back in Pilgrim days, life was hard. It was uncertain. It was scary. Every single day. But I have to think if you had the luxury of worrying, it meant you had the luxury of living -- which was an accomplishment in and of itself. As much as we like to romanticize the Indians bringing corn and the sweet potatoes, the Pilgrims roasting a turkey and making a pumpkin pie, and then the whole lot of them clasping hands and sitting down together Normal Rockwell-style, I have to admit I have a really hard time believing it happened.
Although the arrival and settlement of the Pilgrims would eventually threaten the very existence of an entire nation and culture of people (which is a sad and frankly troubling thought), I still believe the essence of being a thankful individual no matter who you were was based on a shared set of common beliefs. Thankful for the beauty of nature. Thankful for the bountiful earth. Thankful for a full belly. Thankful for family. Thankful for the luxury of worrying. Thankful for the gift of living. Thankful for the hope and promise of tomorrow.
If you think about it, the scenery maybe different now, but our circumstances haven't changed all that much. Life is still hard. And uncertain. And scary. And full of worry. But we, like our ancestors, have the luxury of being alive. And if we can remember that, then this funny, overly romanticized holiday becomes less about big hats, buckle shoes, three hour parades and football, and becomes more of what it was supposed to be all along. It's easy for the gratitude to get lost among the overwhelming minutiae of the day. But even in the midst of it all, there are opportunities and reasons everywhere to find...and give...thanks.
Wishing you a full belly, a warm spirit, and infinite reasons to give thanks.
I would never profess to be any sort of expert in Pilgrim life or history. For the most part, my education has been cobbled together from PBS, The History Channel, historical fiction and nonfiction books, and, A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving where they ate popcorn and toast. Suffice it to say, I am aware of my limitations.
But I have to imagine that way back in Pilgrim days, there probably weren't weeks upon weeks of planning for the big feast. There wouldn't have been festive decorations with holiday ribbons, faux plastic leaves and gourds. There wouldn't have been meticulous planning around the whimsical likes and dislikes of the guests -- be it for food or for people -- and the hosts wouldn't have turned themselves inside out with panic thinking the entire event "wasn't good enough."
Back in Pilgrim days, life was hard. It was uncertain. It was scary. Every single day. But I have to think if you had the luxury of worrying, it meant you had the luxury of living -- which was an accomplishment in and of itself. As much as we like to romanticize the Indians bringing corn and the sweet potatoes, the Pilgrims roasting a turkey and making a pumpkin pie, and then the whole lot of them clasping hands and sitting down together Normal Rockwell-style, I have to admit I have a really hard time believing it happened.
Although the arrival and settlement of the Pilgrims would eventually threaten the very existence of an entire nation and culture of people (which is a sad and frankly troubling thought), I still believe the essence of being a thankful individual no matter who you were was based on a shared set of common beliefs. Thankful for the beauty of nature. Thankful for the bountiful earth. Thankful for a full belly. Thankful for family. Thankful for the luxury of worrying. Thankful for the gift of living. Thankful for the hope and promise of tomorrow.
If you think about it, the scenery maybe different now, but our circumstances haven't changed all that much. Life is still hard. And uncertain. And scary. And full of worry. But we, like our ancestors, have the luxury of being alive. And if we can remember that, then this funny, overly romanticized holiday becomes less about big hats, buckle shoes, three hour parades and football, and becomes more of what it was supposed to be all along. It's easy for the gratitude to get lost among the overwhelming minutiae of the day. But even in the midst of it all, there are opportunities and reasons everywhere to find...and give...thanks.
Wishing you a full belly, a warm spirit, and infinite reasons to give thanks.
Pilgrim's Progress
Thanksgiving is an interesting holiday, to be sure. From enormous balloons in New York City, to the annual drubbing of the Detroit Lions on TV, to the welcoming of Santa, to family feasts of epic proportions to the 500-page newspapers (485 of which are ads) prepping us for Black Friday, I can't help but be reminded of the old advertising jingle, "You've come a long way, baby!" But the question is, come from- and going to- .... where?
I would never profess to be any sort of expert in Pilgrim life or history. For the most part, my education has been cobbled together from PBS, The History Channel, historical fiction and nonfiction books, and, A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving where they ate popcorn and toast. Suffice it to say, I am aware of my limitations.
But I have to imagine that way back in Pilgrim days, there probably weren't weeks upon weeks of planning for the big feast. There wouldn't have been festive decorations with holiday ribbons, faux plastic leaves and gourds. There wouldn't have been meticulous planning around the whimsical likes and dislikes of the guests -- be it for food or for people -- and the hosts wouldn't have turned themselves inside out with panic thinking the entire event "wasn't good enough."
Back in Pilgrim days, life was hard. It was uncertain. It was scary. Every single day. But I have to think if you had the luxury of worrying, it meant you had the luxury of living -- which was an accomplishment in and of itself. As much as we like to romanticize the Indians bringing corn and the sweet potatoes, the Pilgrims roasting a turkey and making a pumpkin pie, and then the whole lot of them clasping hands and sitting down together Normal Rockwell-style, I have to admit I have a really hard time believing it happened.
Although the arrival and settlement of the Pilgrims would eventually threaten the very existence of an entire nation and culture of people (which is a sad and frankly troubling thought), I still believe the essence of being a thankful individual no matter who you were was based on a shared set of common beliefs. Thankful for the beauty of nature. Thankful for the bountiful earth. Thankful for a full belly. Thankful for family. Thankful for the luxury of worrying. Thankful for the gift of living. Thankful for the hope and promise of tomorrow.
If you think about it, the scenery maybe different now, but our circumstances haven't changed all that much. Life is still hard. And uncertain. And scary. And full of worry. But we, like our ancestors, have the luxury of being alive. And if we can remember that, then this funny, overly romanticized holiday becomes less about big hats, buckle shoes, three hour parades and football, and becomes more of what it was supposed to be all along. It's easy for the gratitude to get lost among the overwhelming minutiae of the day. But even in the midst of it all, there are opportunities and reasons everywhere to find...and give...thanks.
Wishing you a full belly, a warm spirit, and infinite reasons to give thanks.
I would never profess to be any sort of expert in Pilgrim life or history. For the most part, my education has been cobbled together from PBS, The History Channel, historical fiction and nonfiction books, and, A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving where they ate popcorn and toast. Suffice it to say, I am aware of my limitations.
But I have to imagine that way back in Pilgrim days, there probably weren't weeks upon weeks of planning for the big feast. There wouldn't have been festive decorations with holiday ribbons, faux plastic leaves and gourds. There wouldn't have been meticulous planning around the whimsical likes and dislikes of the guests -- be it for food or for people -- and the hosts wouldn't have turned themselves inside out with panic thinking the entire event "wasn't good enough."
Back in Pilgrim days, life was hard. It was uncertain. It was scary. Every single day. But I have to think if you had the luxury of worrying, it meant you had the luxury of living -- which was an accomplishment in and of itself. As much as we like to romanticize the Indians bringing corn and the sweet potatoes, the Pilgrims roasting a turkey and making a pumpkin pie, and then the whole lot of them clasping hands and sitting down together Normal Rockwell-style, I have to admit I have a really hard time believing it happened.
Although the arrival and settlement of the Pilgrims would eventually threaten the very existence of an entire nation and culture of people (which is a sad and frankly troubling thought), I still believe the essence of being a thankful individual no matter who you were was based on a shared set of common beliefs. Thankful for the beauty of nature. Thankful for the bountiful earth. Thankful for a full belly. Thankful for family. Thankful for the luxury of worrying. Thankful for the gift of living. Thankful for the hope and promise of tomorrow.
If you think about it, the scenery maybe different now, but our circumstances haven't changed all that much. Life is still hard. And uncertain. And scary. And full of worry. But we, like our ancestors, have the luxury of being alive. And if we can remember that, then this funny, overly romanticized holiday becomes less about big hats, buckle shoes, three hour parades and football, and becomes more of what it was supposed to be all along. It's easy for the gratitude to get lost among the overwhelming minutiae of the day. But even in the midst of it all, there are opportunities and reasons everywhere to find...and give...thanks.
Wishing you a full belly, a warm spirit, and infinite reasons to give thanks.
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
An OLD Time for Us
This one is for TeenTuna, who just finished reading Romeo and Juliet for English class. Not only did they have to read it, and listen to it, and memorize and write down 25 lines from the play, they also got to watch "the really old movie" in class. When she told me about "the really old movie, I was wracking my brain trying to think of an old black and white Gielguld or Olivier version. Then it occurred to me, and with a tone of anticipatory annoyance, I said, "are you talking about the Zeffirelli film?
"YEAH!" She said.
I picked up my eyeballs that had rolled across the floor and said, "I thought you meant OLD. This one was from the late 60's."
"Exactly," she said. "Old."
Harrumph.
An OLD Time for Us
This one is for TeenTuna, who just finished reading Romeo and Juliet for English class. Not only did they have to read it, and listen to it, and memorize and write down 25 lines from the play, they also got to watch "the really old movie" in class. When she told me about "the really old movie, I was wracking my brain trying to think of an old black and white Gielguld or Olivier version. Then it occurred to me, and with a tone of anticipatory annoyance, I said, "are you talking about the Zeffirelli film?
"YEAH!" She said.
I picked up my eyeballs that had rolled across the floor and said, "I thought you meant OLD. This one was from the late 60's."
"Exactly," she said. "Old."
Harrumph.
Monday, November 24, 2008
Research 101
When I was a devious youngster, one of my preferred activities was exploiting the gullible. I started out with small tricks, like "try this spoonful of Vanilla flavoring. It smells SOOO GOOD" and progressed to calling the police when children wouldn't eat their breakfast and then I went so far as convincing those not in the know that my pink plastic retainer was carved out of the roof of my mouth. Classics, each and every one of them.
When it comes to the Internet, though, I am and always have been a total skeptic. Regardless of what I have in front of me, my first order of business is usually to run over to Snopes to check it out. 99% of the time my skepticism is well-founded as a CAPS-LOCK, BOLD, LEANED OVER FALSE flashes on the screen. It's not like I don't want to believe. Buried somewhere in my bleak, dark exterior is a tiny flicker of blind optimism and faith. Just not so much where the Internet is concerned.
So...
Frozen tidal wave? Nope.
USS New York made from 9-11 scrapmetal? Well, yes, but the picture being passed around is the USS San Antonio.
New U.S. Dollar coins designed to eliminate "In God We Trust"? Um, no.
Warm, fuzzy musings by George Carlin? Carlin himself called it a "sappy load of shit."
And so on and so on and so on.
It doesn't take much time to go online and look for verification about whatever it is the Internet is trying to feed you. Sometimes it will totally surprise you and it will be true. I would have NEVER thought the dead dog story was valid. I must admit I was very pleasantly surprised. Emphasis on surprised. But still in all, presenting information gathered on the Internet as your sole source of RESEARCH (students, I'm talking to you) is akin to finding a wadded up piece of paper in the gutter with the same information written on it. Maybe the information is good...but maybe it isn't. That's why you check and recheck our story and our sources BEFORE hanging your research skills out on the public line.
Tonight, as I was online skimming through the daily articles of my local newspaper, I came across an article that presented a long number of stores that have declared they are closing between October 2008 and January 2009. The list was rather long and whereas some of the locations appeared to be very OLD news, others were a left-field surprise. The list wasn't just a compilation of very bad news. The list was also false.
Hitting the charts at #23 on the hot list of Internet crap, Snopes listed this "store closing" email as a mixture of accurate, inaccurate and out-of-date information. My newspaper? Printed the bogus email verbatim. What's next? The $250 Neiman-Marcus cookie recipe?
Like I said, I want to believe. If I were told the Internet were dying and the only way to save would be to clap my hands and shout my beliefs, I'd be the first one to do it.
Right after I made sure it wasn't a hoax.
When it comes to the Internet, though, I am and always have been a total skeptic. Regardless of what I have in front of me, my first order of business is usually to run over to Snopes to check it out. 99% of the time my skepticism is well-founded as a CAPS-LOCK, BOLD, LEANED OVER FALSE flashes on the screen. It's not like I don't want to believe. Buried somewhere in my bleak, dark exterior is a tiny flicker of blind optimism and faith. Just not so much where the Internet is concerned.
So...
Frozen tidal wave? Nope.
USS New York made from 9-11 scrapmetal? Well, yes, but the picture being passed around is the USS San Antonio.
New U.S. Dollar coins designed to eliminate "In God We Trust"? Um, no.
Warm, fuzzy musings by George Carlin? Carlin himself called it a "sappy load of shit."
And so on and so on and so on.
It doesn't take much time to go online and look for verification about whatever it is the Internet is trying to feed you. Sometimes it will totally surprise you and it will be true. I would have NEVER thought the dead dog story was valid. I must admit I was very pleasantly surprised. Emphasis on surprised. But still in all, presenting information gathered on the Internet as your sole source of RESEARCH (students, I'm talking to you) is akin to finding a wadded up piece of paper in the gutter with the same information written on it. Maybe the information is good...but maybe it isn't. That's why you check and recheck our story and our sources BEFORE hanging your research skills out on the public line.
Tonight, as I was online skimming through the daily articles of my local newspaper, I came across an article that presented a long number of stores that have declared they are closing between October 2008 and January 2009. The list was rather long and whereas some of the locations appeared to be very OLD news, others were a left-field surprise. The list wasn't just a compilation of very bad news. The list was also false.
Hitting the charts at #23 on the hot list of Internet crap, Snopes listed this "store closing" email as a mixture of accurate, inaccurate and out-of-date information. My newspaper? Printed the bogus email verbatim. What's next? The $250 Neiman-Marcus cookie recipe?
Like I said, I want to believe. If I were told the Internet were dying and the only way to save would be to clap my hands and shout my beliefs, I'd be the first one to do it.
Right after I made sure it wasn't a hoax.
Research 101
When I was a devious youngster, one of my preferred activities was exploiting the gullible. I started out with small tricks, like "try this spoonful of Vanilla flavoring. It smells SOOO GOOD" and progressed to calling the police when children wouldn't eat their breakfast and then I went so far as convincing those not in the know that my pink plastic retainer was carved out of the roof of my mouth. Classics, each and every one of them.
When it comes to the Internet, though, I am and always have been a total skeptic. Regardless of what I have in front of me, my first order of business is usually to run over to Snopes to check it out. 99% of the time my skepticism is well-founded as a CAPS-LOCK, BOLD, LEANED OVER FALSE flashes on the screen. It's not like I don't want to believe. Buried somewhere in my bleak, dark exterior is a tiny flicker of blind optimism and faith. Just not so much where the Internet is concerned.
So...
Frozen tidal wave? Nope.
USS New York made from 9-11 scrapmetal? Well, yes, but the picture being passed around is the USS San Antonio.
New U.S. Dollar coins designed to eliminate "In God We Trust"? Um, no.
Warm, fuzzy musings by George Carlin? Carlin himself called it a "sappy load of shit."
And so on and so on and so on.
It doesn't take much time to go online and look for verification about whatever it is the Internet is trying to feed you. Sometimes it will totally surprise you and it will be true. I would have NEVER thought the dead dog story was valid. I must admit I was very pleasantly surprised. Emphasis on surprised. But still in all, presenting information gathered on the Internet as your sole source of RESEARCH (students, I'm talking to you) is akin to finding a wadded up piece of paper in the gutter with the same information written on it. Maybe the information is good...but maybe it isn't. That's why you check and recheck our story and our sources BEFORE hanging your research skills out on the public line.
Tonight, as I was online skimming through the daily articles of my local newspaper, I came across an article that presented a long number of stores that have declared they are closing between October 2008 and January 2009. The list was rather long and whereas some of the locations appeared to be very OLD news, others were a left-field surprise. The list wasn't just a compilation of very bad news. The list was also false.
Hitting the charts at #23 on the hot list of Internet crap, Snopes listed this "store closing" email as a mixture of accurate, inaccurate and out-of-date information. My newspaper? Printed the bogus email verbatim. What's next? The $250 Neiman-Marcus cookie recipe?
Like I said, I want to believe. If I were told the Internet were dying and the only way to save would be to clap my hands and shout my beliefs, I'd be the first one to do it.
Right after I made sure it wasn't a hoax.
When it comes to the Internet, though, I am and always have been a total skeptic. Regardless of what I have in front of me, my first order of business is usually to run over to Snopes to check it out. 99% of the time my skepticism is well-founded as a CAPS-LOCK, BOLD, LEANED OVER FALSE flashes on the screen. It's not like I don't want to believe. Buried somewhere in my bleak, dark exterior is a tiny flicker of blind optimism and faith. Just not so much where the Internet is concerned.
So...
Frozen tidal wave? Nope.
USS New York made from 9-11 scrapmetal? Well, yes, but the picture being passed around is the USS San Antonio.
New U.S. Dollar coins designed to eliminate "In God We Trust"? Um, no.
Warm, fuzzy musings by George Carlin? Carlin himself called it a "sappy load of shit."
And so on and so on and so on.
It doesn't take much time to go online and look for verification about whatever it is the Internet is trying to feed you. Sometimes it will totally surprise you and it will be true. I would have NEVER thought the dead dog story was valid. I must admit I was very pleasantly surprised. Emphasis on surprised. But still in all, presenting information gathered on the Internet as your sole source of RESEARCH (students, I'm talking to you) is akin to finding a wadded up piece of paper in the gutter with the same information written on it. Maybe the information is good...but maybe it isn't. That's why you check and recheck our story and our sources BEFORE hanging your research skills out on the public line.
Tonight, as I was online skimming through the daily articles of my local newspaper, I came across an article that presented a long number of stores that have declared they are closing between October 2008 and January 2009. The list was rather long and whereas some of the locations appeared to be very OLD news, others were a left-field surprise. The list wasn't just a compilation of very bad news. The list was also false.
Hitting the charts at #23 on the hot list of Internet crap, Snopes listed this "store closing" email as a mixture of accurate, inaccurate and out-of-date information. My newspaper? Printed the bogus email verbatim. What's next? The $250 Neiman-Marcus cookie recipe?
Like I said, I want to believe. If I were told the Internet were dying and the only way to save would be to clap my hands and shout my beliefs, I'd be the first one to do it.
Right after I made sure it wasn't a hoax.
Sunday, November 23, 2008
Unconscious Mutterings
I say ... And YOU think:
1. Spit it out :: MINCE PIE
2. Shadow :: 6 more weeks of winter
3. Database :: Constantly needs fixing
4. Expression :: Smile
5. Boss :: Everybody has one
6. Baby :: Infant
7. Mystic :: Guru
8. Kate :: plus 8
9. Boobies :: 3rd-grade slang
10. Raid :: ANTS
Another rather odd list, if I do say so myself. Which I do. But hey, I don't make them up. I just answer them. Mutter along HERE.
1. Spit it out :: MINCE PIE
2. Shadow :: 6 more weeks of winter
3. Database :: Constantly needs fixing
4. Expression :: Smile
5. Boss :: Everybody has one
6. Baby :: Infant
7. Mystic :: Guru
8. Kate :: plus 8
9. Boobies :: 3rd-grade slang
10. Raid :: ANTS
Another rather odd list, if I do say so myself. Which I do. But hey, I don't make them up. I just answer them. Mutter along HERE.
Unconscious Mutterings
I say ... And YOU think:
1. Spit it out :: MINCE PIE
2. Shadow :: 6 more weeks of winter
3. Database :: Constantly needs fixing
4. Expression :: Smile
5. Boss :: Everybody has one
6. Baby :: Infant
7. Mystic :: Guru
8. Kate :: plus 8
9. Boobies :: 3rd-grade slang
10. Raid :: ANTS
Another rather odd list, if I do say so myself. Which I do. But hey, I don't make them up. I just answer them. Mutter along HERE.
1. Spit it out :: MINCE PIE
2. Shadow :: 6 more weeks of winter
3. Database :: Constantly needs fixing
4. Expression :: Smile
5. Boss :: Everybody has one
6. Baby :: Infant
7. Mystic :: Guru
8. Kate :: plus 8
9. Boobies :: 3rd-grade slang
10. Raid :: ANTS
Another rather odd list, if I do say so myself. Which I do. But hey, I don't make them up. I just answer them. Mutter along HERE.
Saturday, November 22, 2008
Six-Day Warning
I know that most people I know are dreaming of turkey, stuffing and pumpkin pie. While I look forward to Thanksgiving as much as the next person, what I'm really looking forward to is the next day.
No, I'm not going "Black-Friday" shopping. If I step into any store on Friday, it will be a Home Depot for painting supplies. This coming weekend, God-willing, I will FINALLY get my bedroom painted.
For the 3rd consecutive Saturday night, I spent a few quality hours with a putty knife in hand chipping away at wall number four. And it's done. There may be tiny spots to chip here and there, but I'm done. Four walls that were...well, whatever color you might want to call it...are now chipped down to plaster. This gives me several days to do some repairs to walls and ceilings, fill eighty billion nail holes, sand and wash the walls. I'll take off Thursday to eat, drink and be merry, but then Friday starts three solid days of "Get it done, or ELSE."
Take it from me: there will be no ELSE.
As I was chip-chip-chipping tonight, I thought it would be really cool if I had some sort of display that would flash my progress. If it would should how much was done and how much more there was to go, I might be more encouraged as the hours passed. I guess my own eyes and judgment don't give me enough positive reinforcement. But I can report tonight's wall went very, very quickly (as wall-chipping goes), and TeenTuna was extraordinarily helpful helping me getting this chore done. Silly kid, she thought it was fun. Too bad I don't have a fence to whitewash.
So, come the end of next weekend, I plan on being the most thankful person in the entire world. To have this room painted marks the end of the 2008 house renovation projects. Sure, there will be more to do in 2009, but I'm going to spend some quality time patting myself on the back and looking at all the progress we made, inside and out.
Change. It CAN be a good thing.
No, I'm not going "Black-Friday" shopping. If I step into any store on Friday, it will be a Home Depot for painting supplies. This coming weekend, God-willing, I will FINALLY get my bedroom painted.
For the 3rd consecutive Saturday night, I spent a few quality hours with a putty knife in hand chipping away at wall number four. And it's done. There may be tiny spots to chip here and there, but I'm done. Four walls that were...well, whatever color you might want to call it...are now chipped down to plaster. This gives me several days to do some repairs to walls and ceilings, fill eighty billion nail holes, sand and wash the walls. I'll take off Thursday to eat, drink and be merry, but then Friday starts three solid days of "Get it done, or ELSE."
Take it from me: there will be no ELSE.
As I was chip-chip-chipping tonight, I thought it would be really cool if I had some sort of display that would flash my progress. If it would should how much was done and how much more there was to go, I might be more encouraged as the hours passed. I guess my own eyes and judgment don't give me enough positive reinforcement. But I can report tonight's wall went very, very quickly (as wall-chipping goes), and TeenTuna was extraordinarily helpful helping me getting this chore done. Silly kid, she thought it was fun. Too bad I don't have a fence to whitewash.
So, come the end of next weekend, I plan on being the most thankful person in the entire world. To have this room painted marks the end of the 2008 house renovation projects. Sure, there will be more to do in 2009, but I'm going to spend some quality time patting myself on the back and looking at all the progress we made, inside and out.
Change. It CAN be a good thing.
Six-Day Warning
I know that most people I know are dreaming of turkey, stuffing and pumpkin pie. While I look forward to Thanksgiving as much as the next person, what I'm really looking forward to is the next day.
No, I'm not going "Black-Friday" shopping. If I step into any store on Friday, it will be a Home Depot for painting supplies. This coming weekend, God-willing, I will FINALLY get my bedroom painted.
For the 3rd consecutive Saturday night, I spent a few quality hours with a putty knife in hand chipping away at wall number four. And it's done. There may be tiny spots to chip here and there, but I'm done. Four walls that were...well, whatever color you might want to call it...are now chipped down to plaster. This gives me several days to do some repairs to walls and ceilings, fill eighty billion nail holes, sand and wash the walls. I'll take off Thursday to eat, drink and be merry, but then Friday starts three solid days of "Get it done, or ELSE."
Take it from me: there will be no ELSE.
As I was chip-chip-chipping tonight, I thought it would be really cool if I had some sort of display that would flash my progress. If it would should how much was done and how much more there was to go, I might be more encouraged as the hours passed. I guess my own eyes and judgment don't give me enough positive reinforcement. But I can report tonight's wall went very, very quickly (as wall-chipping goes), and TeenTuna was extraordinarily helpful helping me getting this chore done. Silly kid, she thought it was fun. Too bad I don't have a fence to whitewash.
So, come the end of next weekend, I plan on being the most thankful person in the entire world. To have this room painted marks the end of the 2008 house renovation projects. Sure, there will be more to do in 2009, but I'm going to spend some quality time patting myself on the back and looking at all the progress we made, inside and out.
Change. It CAN be a good thing.
No, I'm not going "Black-Friday" shopping. If I step into any store on Friday, it will be a Home Depot for painting supplies. This coming weekend, God-willing, I will FINALLY get my bedroom painted.
For the 3rd consecutive Saturday night, I spent a few quality hours with a putty knife in hand chipping away at wall number four. And it's done. There may be tiny spots to chip here and there, but I'm done. Four walls that were...well, whatever color you might want to call it...are now chipped down to plaster. This gives me several days to do some repairs to walls and ceilings, fill eighty billion nail holes, sand and wash the walls. I'll take off Thursday to eat, drink and be merry, but then Friday starts three solid days of "Get it done, or ELSE."
Take it from me: there will be no ELSE.
As I was chip-chip-chipping tonight, I thought it would be really cool if I had some sort of display that would flash my progress. If it would should how much was done and how much more there was to go, I might be more encouraged as the hours passed. I guess my own eyes and judgment don't give me enough positive reinforcement. But I can report tonight's wall went very, very quickly (as wall-chipping goes), and TeenTuna was extraordinarily helpful helping me getting this chore done. Silly kid, she thought it was fun. Too bad I don't have a fence to whitewash.
So, come the end of next weekend, I plan on being the most thankful person in the entire world. To have this room painted marks the end of the 2008 house renovation projects. Sure, there will be more to do in 2009, but I'm going to spend some quality time patting myself on the back and looking at all the progress we made, inside and out.
Change. It CAN be a good thing.
Friday, November 21, 2008
I wanna be like you-oo-oo?
I'm too tired and cold and tired (did I mention tired?) to offer up anything of worth tonight. The best thing I have is that Ashlee Simpson and father what's his name-Wentz had their baby and named it Bronx Mowgli Wentz.
Ahem.
I think they really missed the boat here. If they truly wanted to saddle this kid with a dorky name and a lifetime of teasing, while still ensuring the initials spelled out some of importance to someone (in this case BMW), they should have tossed the Bronx and gone either for Bagheera or Baloo.
Ahem.
I think they really missed the boat here. If they truly wanted to saddle this kid with a dorky name and a lifetime of teasing, while still ensuring the initials spelled out some of importance to someone (in this case BMW), they should have tossed the Bronx and gone either for Bagheera or Baloo.
I wanna be like you-oo-oo?
I'm too tired and cold and tired (did I mention tired?) to offer up anything of worth tonight. The best thing I have is that Ashlee Simpson and father what's his name-Wentz had their baby and named it Bronx Mowgli Wentz.
Ahem.
I think they really missed the boat here. If they truly wanted to saddle this kid with a dorky name and a lifetime of teasing, while still ensuring the initials spelled out some of importance to someone (in this case BMW), they should have tossed the Bronx and gone either for Bagheera or Baloo.
Ahem.
I think they really missed the boat here. If they truly wanted to saddle this kid with a dorky name and a lifetime of teasing, while still ensuring the initials spelled out some of importance to someone (in this case BMW), they should have tossed the Bronx and gone either for Bagheera or Baloo.
Thursday, November 20, 2008
My Day in Haiku
Twilight at midnight?
No living dead for me, thanks.
They live in mirrors.
The weather today?
I think I saw polar bears
in line for "Twilight"
Went to the pie store.
"Sorry, we have no pumpkin."
SERIOUSLY? *sigh*
iPod Name That Tune
Today hit "Neuma Neuma"
Head-bopping ensued.
Gmail now has themes
How geeky am I to think
that this is cool beans?
Head bobbing wakes me
as I fall asleep blogging.
must be time to post.
No living dead for me, thanks.
They live in mirrors.
The weather today?
I think I saw polar bears
in line for "Twilight"
Went to the pie store.
"Sorry, we have no pumpkin."
SERIOUSLY? *sigh*
iPod Name That Tune
Today hit "Neuma Neuma"
Head-bopping ensued.
Gmail now has themes
How geeky am I to think
that this is cool beans?
Head bobbing wakes me
as I fall asleep blogging.
must be time to post.
My Day in Haiku
Twilight at midnight?
No living dead for me, thanks.
They live in mirrors.
The weather today?
I think I saw polar bears
in line for "Twilight"
Went to the pie store.
"Sorry, we have no pumpkin."
SERIOUSLY? *sigh*
iPod Name That Tune
Today hit "Neuma Neuma"
Head-bopping ensued.
Gmail now has themes
How geeky am I to think
that this is cool beans?
Head bobbing wakes me
as I fall asleep blogging.
must be time to post.
No living dead for me, thanks.
They live in mirrors.
The weather today?
I think I saw polar bears
in line for "Twilight"
Went to the pie store.
"Sorry, we have no pumpkin."
SERIOUSLY? *sigh*
iPod Name That Tune
Today hit "Neuma Neuma"
Head-bopping ensued.
Gmail now has themes
How geeky am I to think
that this is cool beans?
Head bobbing wakes me
as I fall asleep blogging.
must be time to post.
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
Helpful Hints
When taking an exam, it is always important to answer every single question. Even if you don't know the answer, take a guess. You just may know more than you think you know and get it right!
If, in fact, you really don't have any idea, by all means, take a guess anyway. So, for example, if when asked
List 5 different behaviors that can compromise your vocal health
you answer
A freak para-sailing accident
take comfort in knowing that although you may not get any points for the question, you just may endear yourself to a tired and overworked educator more than you could possibly know.
click picture to enlarge.
To see the rest of the test, click HERE.
If, in fact, you really don't have any idea, by all means, take a guess anyway. So, for example, if when asked
List 5 different behaviors that can compromise your vocal health
you answer
A freak para-sailing accident
take comfort in knowing that although you may not get any points for the question, you just may endear yourself to a tired and overworked educator more than you could possibly know.
To see the rest of the test, click HERE.
Helpful Hints
When taking an exam, it is always important to answer every single question. Even if you don't know the answer, take a guess. You just may know more than you think you know and get it right!
If, in fact, you really don't have any idea, by all means, take a guess anyway. So, for example, if when asked
List 5 different behaviors that can compromise your vocal health
you answer
A freak para-sailing accident
take comfort in knowing that although you may not get any points for the question, you just may endear yourself to a tired and overworked educator more than you could possibly know.
click picture to enlarge.
To see the rest of the test, click HERE.
If, in fact, you really don't have any idea, by all means, take a guess anyway. So, for example, if when asked
List 5 different behaviors that can compromise your vocal health
you answer
A freak para-sailing accident
take comfort in knowing that although you may not get any points for the question, you just may endear yourself to a tired and overworked educator more than you could possibly know.
To see the rest of the test, click HERE.
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Being Alive
Tonight, after "long teaching Tuesday" I shlumpfed down in front of my computer to check on the latest news before I crawled into bed. According to sources that care, evidently Brittney Spears compares her life to jail and feels "like a prisoner"
Then, two different songs popped up tonight while I was shuffling the masses on my iPod. The first was a song called "Grateful" by John Bucchino. A portion of the lyrics include:
It's not that I don't want a lot
or hope for more or dream of more
but giving thanks for what I've got
makes me so much happier thank keeping score.
In a world that can bring pain
I can still take each chance.
For I believe that whatever the terrain
our feet can learn to dance.
The other song is by folksinger Carrie Newcomer. Called, "Bare to the Bone" it says
When I rise, I rise in glory.
If I do, I do by grace.
Time will wash away our footprints
and we’ll leave without a trace.
Between here and now and forever
is such precious little time.
What we do in love and kindness
is all we ever leave behind.
I'm not here to bash Brittney because let's face it, it is very easy to appoint yourself the guest of honor at your very own "poor me" pity party. We all do it. We are tired, stressed, and worried. There are unending concerns about the economy, our family, our employers, our friends, our relationships. There is sickness of body and sickness of heart. It's really no wonder we, as a society aren't collectively sucking our thumbs and rocking slowly in the corner waiting for it all to go away. But then look at the comic:
You are alive - This is a powerful thing. When you weigh all the sadness, worry and hurt and against that one tiny sentence, they cannot stand.
You are alive - This is a living thing. It means so very much. It means active. It means functioning. It means potential. It means growth and achievement. It means life.
You are alive - This is a gift. Accept it, remember it, and live it for yourself and others.
But how is it possible to ignore the crushing day-to-day problems that bombard us from the minute we wake up until the minute we fall asleep, and sometimes even manage to creep into our dreams? By giving thanks for what we've got. It sounds so simplistic, but it really is the key. Step outside of the Hell and focus on the Hallelujah. There really is much in everybody's life to be thankful for. And then, no matter what life brings us -- no matter the terrain -- our feet will learn to dance.
In the big game we call the game of life, the point of it all is not to finish with the most or the best. In the time that will outlast each and every one of us, no superlative will matter or even last. What we do in love and kindness is all we ever leave behind. So, my advice to a still very young Ms. Spears is to remember instead of feeling like a prisoner in a jail of our own making, remember you are alive. No matter what the circumstances, we can learn to dance. And then? We can hold up the hurts of others and fill them with music and light and healing and peace.
That is a song -- and a life -- worth singing.
In the comments, Spears appeared to criticise her father, who has placed her under strict control since being appointed her conservator earlier in the year.What I find interesting about this topic isn't the Brittney factor. It's that I ran across several things that put life and life's difficulties in a different perspective. The first was an online comic called "Bellen"
"I think it's too in control. If I wasn't under the restraints I'm under, I'd feel so liberated. When I tell them the way I feel, it's like they hear but they're really not listening," she said.
"If you do something wrong in your work, you can move on, but I'm having to pay for a long time. I never wanted to become one of those prisoner people. I always wanted to feel free. I think I've learnt my lesson now, and enough is enough."
Then, two different songs popped up tonight while I was shuffling the masses on my iPod. The first was a song called "Grateful" by John Bucchino. A portion of the lyrics include:
or hope for more or dream of more
but giving thanks for what I've got
makes me so much happier thank keeping score.
In a world that can bring pain
I can still take each chance.
For I believe that whatever the terrain
our feet can learn to dance.
The other song is by folksinger Carrie Newcomer. Called, "Bare to the Bone" it says
If I do, I do by grace.
Time will wash away our footprints
and we’ll leave without a trace.
Between here and now and forever
is such precious little time.
What we do in love and kindness
is all we ever leave behind.
I'm not here to bash Brittney because let's face it, it is very easy to appoint yourself the guest of honor at your very own "poor me" pity party. We all do it. We are tired, stressed, and worried. There are unending concerns about the economy, our family, our employers, our friends, our relationships. There is sickness of body and sickness of heart. It's really no wonder we, as a society aren't collectively sucking our thumbs and rocking slowly in the corner waiting for it all to go away. But then look at the comic:
You are alive - This is a powerful thing. When you weigh all the sadness, worry and hurt and against that one tiny sentence, they cannot stand.
You are alive - This is a living thing. It means so very much. It means active. It means functioning. It means potential. It means growth and achievement. It means life.
You are alive - This is a gift. Accept it, remember it, and live it for yourself and others.
But how is it possible to ignore the crushing day-to-day problems that bombard us from the minute we wake up until the minute we fall asleep, and sometimes even manage to creep into our dreams? By giving thanks for what we've got. It sounds so simplistic, but it really is the key. Step outside of the Hell and focus on the Hallelujah. There really is much in everybody's life to be thankful for. And then, no matter what life brings us -- no matter the terrain -- our feet will learn to dance.
In the big game we call the game of life, the point of it all is not to finish with the most or the best. In the time that will outlast each and every one of us, no superlative will matter or even last. What we do in love and kindness is all we ever leave behind. So, my advice to a still very young Ms. Spears is to remember instead of feeling like a prisoner in a jail of our own making, remember you are alive. No matter what the circumstances, we can learn to dance. And then? We can hold up the hurts of others and fill them with music and light and healing and peace.
That is a song -- and a life -- worth singing.
Being Alive
Tonight, after "long teaching Tuesday" I shlumpfed down in front of my computer to check on the latest news before I crawled into bed. According to sources that care, evidently Brittney Spears compares her life to jail and feels "like a prisoner"
Then, two different songs popped up tonight while I was shuffling the masses on my iPod. The first was a song called "Grateful" by John Bucchino. A portion of the lyrics include:
It's not that I don't want a lot
or hope for more or dream of more
but giving thanks for what I've got
makes me so much happier thank keeping score.
In a world that can bring pain
I can still take each chance.
For I believe that whatever the terrain
our feet can learn to dance.
The other song is by folksinger Carrie Newcomer. Called, "Bare to the Bone" it says
When I rise, I rise in glory.
If I do, I do by grace.
Time will wash away our footprints
and we’ll leave without a trace.
Between here and now and forever
is such precious little time.
What we do in love and kindness
is all we ever leave behind.
I'm not here to bash Brittney because let's face it, it is very easy to appoint yourself the guest of honor at your very own "poor me" pity party. We all do it. We are tired, stressed, and worried. There are unending concerns about the economy, our family, our employers, our friends, our relationships. There is sickness of body and sickness of heart. It's really no wonder we, as a society aren't collectively sucking our thumbs and rocking slowly in the corner waiting for it all to go away. But then look at the comic:
You are alive - This is a powerful thing. When you weigh all the sadness, worry and hurt and against that one tiny sentence, they cannot stand.
You are alive - This is a living thing. It means so very much. It means active. It means functioning. It means potential. It means growth and achievement. It means life.
You are alive - This is a gift. Accept it, remember it, and live it for yourself and others.
But how is it possible to ignore the crushing day-to-day problems that bombard us from the minute we wake up until the minute we fall asleep, and sometimes even manage to creep into our dreams? By giving thanks for what we've got. It sounds so simplistic, but it really is the key. Step outside of the Hell and focus on the Hallelujah. There really is much in everybody's life to be thankful for. And then, no matter what life brings us -- no matter the terrain -- our feet will learn to dance.
In the big game we call the game of life, the point of it all is not to finish with the most or the best. In the time that will outlast each and every one of us, no superlative will matter or even last. What we do in love and kindness is all we ever leave behind. So, my advice to a still very young Ms. Spears is to remember instead of feeling like a prisoner in a jail of our own making, remember you are alive. No matter what the circumstances, we can learn to dance. And then? We can hold up the hurts of others and fill them with music and light and healing and peace.
That is a song -- and a life -- worth singing.
In the comments, Spears appeared to criticise her father, who has placed her under strict control since being appointed her conservator earlier in the year.What I find interesting about this topic isn't the Brittney factor. It's that I ran across several things that put life and life's difficulties in a different perspective. The first was an online comic called "Bellen"
"I think it's too in control. If I wasn't under the restraints I'm under, I'd feel so liberated. When I tell them the way I feel, it's like they hear but they're really not listening," she said.
"If you do something wrong in your work, you can move on, but I'm having to pay for a long time. I never wanted to become one of those prisoner people. I always wanted to feel free. I think I've learnt my lesson now, and enough is enough."
Then, two different songs popped up tonight while I was shuffling the masses on my iPod. The first was a song called "Grateful" by John Bucchino. A portion of the lyrics include:
or hope for more or dream of more
but giving thanks for what I've got
makes me so much happier thank keeping score.
In a world that can bring pain
I can still take each chance.
For I believe that whatever the terrain
our feet can learn to dance.
The other song is by folksinger Carrie Newcomer. Called, "Bare to the Bone" it says
If I do, I do by grace.
Time will wash away our footprints
and we’ll leave without a trace.
Between here and now and forever
is such precious little time.
What we do in love and kindness
is all we ever leave behind.
I'm not here to bash Brittney because let's face it, it is very easy to appoint yourself the guest of honor at your very own "poor me" pity party. We all do it. We are tired, stressed, and worried. There are unending concerns about the economy, our family, our employers, our friends, our relationships. There is sickness of body and sickness of heart. It's really no wonder we, as a society aren't collectively sucking our thumbs and rocking slowly in the corner waiting for it all to go away. But then look at the comic:
You are alive - This is a powerful thing. When you weigh all the sadness, worry and hurt and against that one tiny sentence, they cannot stand.
You are alive - This is a living thing. It means so very much. It means active. It means functioning. It means potential. It means growth and achievement. It means life.
You are alive - This is a gift. Accept it, remember it, and live it for yourself and others.
But how is it possible to ignore the crushing day-to-day problems that bombard us from the minute we wake up until the minute we fall asleep, and sometimes even manage to creep into our dreams? By giving thanks for what we've got. It sounds so simplistic, but it really is the key. Step outside of the Hell and focus on the Hallelujah. There really is much in everybody's life to be thankful for. And then, no matter what life brings us -- no matter the terrain -- our feet will learn to dance.
In the big game we call the game of life, the point of it all is not to finish with the most or the best. In the time that will outlast each and every one of us, no superlative will matter or even last. What we do in love and kindness is all we ever leave behind. So, my advice to a still very young Ms. Spears is to remember instead of feeling like a prisoner in a jail of our own making, remember you are alive. No matter what the circumstances, we can learn to dance. And then? We can hold up the hurts of others and fill them with music and light and healing and peace.
That is a song -- and a life -- worth singing.
Monday, November 17, 2008
Let's Hear it for the Twirl
The good news is TeenTuna has good taste in clothes and doesn't like "hoochie-wear."
The bad news TeenTuna has good taste in clothes and doesn't like "hoochie-wear."
Hoochie-wear is considerably cheaper, because, I think the fabric consists of NOTHING that comes from nature. You could probably melt down a closet of hoochie-wear and re-fashion an enormous Hello Kitty idol and a complete set of season two Hannah Montana DVDs. Not that Hannah Montana is hoochie. I'm just using her astounding celebrity for illustrative purposes. As it should be.
Nice clothes -- not insanely expensive, just age-appropriate that cover all age-appropriate body parts -- can be difficult to find. It's tough when you're not built like a waif, because body-hugging clothes look awful if you aren't built like a walking stick. So, when we find something (which tends to be not all that often) we tend to pounce.
a walking stick ready to pounce just to help me make a point.
Tonight we pounced.
So the child has several new options for school -- some dressier and some a bit more casual and jeans-worthy. She also scored a new Christmas/Party dress that, with its lower-cut bodice and full twirly skirt manages to appeal both to her grownup and four-year-old sensibilities. Toss in a couple of pairs of earrings and she's ready to have some awesome new clothes for High School tomorrow. I'm told often and in very small words and loud voice that it's important. Funny, I guess I already knew that because 1. I already attended high school, and, 2. I don't live in a cave.
The bad news TeenTuna has good taste in clothes and doesn't like "hoochie-wear."
Hoochie-wear is considerably cheaper, because, I think the fabric consists of NOTHING that comes from nature. You could probably melt down a closet of hoochie-wear and re-fashion an enormous Hello Kitty idol and a complete set of season two Hannah Montana DVDs. Not that Hannah Montana is hoochie. I'm just using her astounding celebrity for illustrative purposes. As it should be.
Nice clothes -- not insanely expensive, just age-appropriate that cover all age-appropriate body parts -- can be difficult to find. It's tough when you're not built like a waif, because body-hugging clothes look awful if you aren't built like a walking stick. So, when we find something (which tends to be not all that often) we tend to pounce.
Tonight we pounced.
So the child has several new options for school -- some dressier and some a bit more casual and jeans-worthy. She also scored a new Christmas/Party dress that, with its lower-cut bodice and full twirly skirt manages to appeal both to her grownup and four-year-old sensibilities. Toss in a couple of pairs of earrings and she's ready to have some awesome new clothes for High School tomorrow. I'm told often and in very small words and loud voice that it's important. Funny, I guess I already knew that because 1. I already attended high school, and, 2. I don't live in a cave.
Let's Hear it for the Twirl
The good news is TeenTuna has good taste in clothes and doesn't like "hoochie-wear."
The bad news TeenTuna has good taste in clothes and doesn't like "hoochie-wear."
Hoochie-wear is considerably cheaper, because, I think the fabric consists of NOTHING that comes from nature. You could probably melt down a closet of hoochie-wear and re-fashion an enormous Hello Kitty idol and a complete set of season two Hannah Montana DVDs. Not that Hannah Montana is hoochie. I'm just using her astounding celebrity for illustrative purposes. As it should be.
Nice clothes -- not insanely expensive, just age-appropriate that cover all age-appropriate body parts -- can be difficult to find. It's tough when you're not built like a waif, because body-hugging clothes look awful if you aren't built like a walking stick. So, when we find something (which tends to be not all that often) we tend to pounce.
a walking stick ready to pounce just to help me make a point.
Tonight we pounced.
So the child has several new options for school -- some dressier and some a bit more casual and jeans-worthy. She also scored a new Christmas/Party dress that, with its lower-cut bodice and full twirly skirt manages to appeal both to her grownup and four-year-old sensibilities. Toss in a couple of pairs of earrings and she's ready to have some awesome new clothes for High School tomorrow. I'm told often and in very small words and loud voice that it's important. Funny, I guess I already knew that because 1. I already attended high school, and, 2. I don't live in a cave.
The bad news TeenTuna has good taste in clothes and doesn't like "hoochie-wear."
Hoochie-wear is considerably cheaper, because, I think the fabric consists of NOTHING that comes from nature. You could probably melt down a closet of hoochie-wear and re-fashion an enormous Hello Kitty idol and a complete set of season two Hannah Montana DVDs. Not that Hannah Montana is hoochie. I'm just using her astounding celebrity for illustrative purposes. As it should be.
Nice clothes -- not insanely expensive, just age-appropriate that cover all age-appropriate body parts -- can be difficult to find. It's tough when you're not built like a waif, because body-hugging clothes look awful if you aren't built like a walking stick. So, when we find something (which tends to be not all that often) we tend to pounce.
Tonight we pounced.
So the child has several new options for school -- some dressier and some a bit more casual and jeans-worthy. She also scored a new Christmas/Party dress that, with its lower-cut bodice and full twirly skirt manages to appeal both to her grownup and four-year-old sensibilities. Toss in a couple of pairs of earrings and she's ready to have some awesome new clothes for High School tomorrow. I'm told often and in very small words and loud voice that it's important. Funny, I guess I already knew that because 1. I already attended high school, and, 2. I don't live in a cave.
Sunday, November 16, 2008
Unconscious Mutterings
I say ... And You Think:
1. Please stop :: Some more
2. Move over :: And make room for Marty
3. Sweet As :: Pie
4. Bet :: Wager
5. Mad About :: The Boy
6. It's Over :: Call it a day
7. Intend to :: Mean to
8. Blame :: Game
9. Jefferson :: Thomas
10. Heartless :: Cruel
Another rather bizarre list, I'd say. "Move over and Make Room for Marty" is an obscure reference I think probably 3 people will get. "Mad about the Boy" is a slightly less obscure jazz standard by Noel Coward made famous by Dinah Washington (no embedding, YouTube link HERE)
Evidently it also now been remade into a pseudo-reggae number by Ava Leigh.
And to make this musical trifecta complete, I leave you with a little taste of the 70s. What it is now? Retro? Oldies? For some of us, it's music we grew up with. Oh Yeah.
And just so Mr. Jefferson doesn't feel slighted...
Oops. Wrong one.
1. Please stop :: Some more
2. Move over :: And make room for Marty
3. Sweet As :: Pie
4. Bet :: Wager
5. Mad About :: The Boy
6. It's Over :: Call it a day
7. Intend to :: Mean to
8. Blame :: Game
9. Jefferson :: Thomas
10. Heartless :: Cruel
Another rather bizarre list, I'd say. "Move over and Make Room for Marty" is an obscure reference I think probably 3 people will get. "Mad about the Boy" is a slightly less obscure jazz standard by Noel Coward made famous by Dinah Washington (no embedding, YouTube link HERE)
Evidently it also now been remade into a pseudo-reggae number by Ava Leigh.
And to make this musical trifecta complete, I leave you with a little taste of the 70s. What it is now? Retro? Oldies? For some of us, it's music we grew up with. Oh Yeah.
And just so Mr. Jefferson doesn't feel slighted...
Oops. Wrong one.
Unconscious Mutterings
I say ... And You Think:
1. Please stop :: Some more
2. Move over :: And make room for Marty
3. Sweet As :: Pie
4. Bet :: Wager
5. Mad About :: The Boy
6. It's Over :: Call it a day
7. Intend to :: Mean to
8. Blame :: Game
9. Jefferson :: Thomas
10. Heartless :: Cruel
Another rather bizarre list, I'd say. "Move over and Make Room for Marty" is an obscure reference I think probably 3 people will get. "Mad about the Boy" is a slightly less obscure jazz standard by Noel Coward made famous by Dinah Washington (no embedding, YouTube link HERE)
Evidently it also now been remade into a pseudo-reggae number by Ava Leigh.
And to make this musical trifecta complete, I leave you with a little taste of the 70s. What it is now? Retro? Oldies? For some of us, it's music we grew up with. Oh Yeah.
And just so Mr. Jefferson doesn't feel slighted...
Oops. Wrong one.
1. Please stop :: Some more
2. Move over :: And make room for Marty
3. Sweet As :: Pie
4. Bet :: Wager
5. Mad About :: The Boy
6. It's Over :: Call it a day
7. Intend to :: Mean to
8. Blame :: Game
9. Jefferson :: Thomas
10. Heartless :: Cruel
Another rather bizarre list, I'd say. "Move over and Make Room for Marty" is an obscure reference I think probably 3 people will get. "Mad about the Boy" is a slightly less obscure jazz standard by Noel Coward made famous by Dinah Washington (no embedding, YouTube link HERE)
Evidently it also now been remade into a pseudo-reggae number by Ava Leigh.
And to make this musical trifecta complete, I leave you with a little taste of the 70s. What it is now? Retro? Oldies? For some of us, it's music we grew up with. Oh Yeah.
And just so Mr. Jefferson doesn't feel slighted...
Oops. Wrong one.
Saturday, November 15, 2008
With a Chip Chip Here
Tonight was another exciting evening of chipping paint. It seems like it has been going on forever, and even a friend asked, "STILL?" when I told her my Saturday night plans. Yes, still. As it stands now, it's three walls done with one wall to go.
What continues to surprise me is when you compare the chipped wall to the unchipped wall, it becomes so clear just how ugly and dingy the present wall color is. I'm at a loss to explain the color, except to say it seems to be some sort of off-dingy drab. I don't think it was ever white. And it wasn't beige. Compared to the white plaster beneath it really looks like a dirty gray. Maybe the actual paint color would be something like Mid November Dawn Experiencing A Stalled Low Front with 85% chance of rain and sleet and 100% humidity. It's really just ugh.
I've lived with these walls for a long time and never realized just how bad they were. The more I chip away at the old, the more excited I become for new, fresh and clean color. With my closet already painted this warm very ligth pale yellow, I have a little hint and a promise of what is to come. And on this Mid November Evening Experiencing a Stalled Low Front with 85% chance of rain and sleet and 100% humidity, all I can say is, I cannot wait.
What continues to surprise me is when you compare the chipped wall to the unchipped wall, it becomes so clear just how ugly and dingy the present wall color is. I'm at a loss to explain the color, except to say it seems to be some sort of off-dingy drab. I don't think it was ever white. And it wasn't beige. Compared to the white plaster beneath it really looks like a dirty gray. Maybe the actual paint color would be something like Mid November Dawn Experiencing A Stalled Low Front with 85% chance of rain and sleet and 100% humidity. It's really just ugh.
I've lived with these walls for a long time and never realized just how bad they were. The more I chip away at the old, the more excited I become for new, fresh and clean color. With my closet already painted this warm very ligth pale yellow, I have a little hint and a promise of what is to come. And on this Mid November Evening Experiencing a Stalled Low Front with 85% chance of rain and sleet and 100% humidity, all I can say is, I cannot wait.
With a Chip Chip Here
Tonight was another exciting evening of chipping paint. It seems like it has been going on forever, and even a friend asked, "STILL?" when I told her my Saturday night plans. Yes, still. As it stands now, it's three walls done with one wall to go.
What continues to surprise me is when you compare the chipped wall to the unchipped wall, it becomes so clear just how ugly and dingy the present wall color is. I'm at a loss to explain the color, except to say it seems to be some sort of off-dingy drab. I don't think it was ever white. And it wasn't beige. Compared to the white plaster beneath it really looks like a dirty gray. Maybe the actual paint color would be something like Mid November Dawn Experiencing A Stalled Low Front with 85% chance of rain and sleet and 100% humidity. It's really just ugh.
I've lived with these walls for a long time and never realized just how bad they were. The more I chip away at the old, the more excited I become for new, fresh and clean color. With my closet already painted this warm very ligth pale yellow, I have a little hint and a promise of what is to come. And on this Mid November Evening Experiencing a Stalled Low Front with 85% chance of rain and sleet and 100% humidity, all I can say is, I cannot wait.
What continues to surprise me is when you compare the chipped wall to the unchipped wall, it becomes so clear just how ugly and dingy the present wall color is. I'm at a loss to explain the color, except to say it seems to be some sort of off-dingy drab. I don't think it was ever white. And it wasn't beige. Compared to the white plaster beneath it really looks like a dirty gray. Maybe the actual paint color would be something like Mid November Dawn Experiencing A Stalled Low Front with 85% chance of rain and sleet and 100% humidity. It's really just ugh.
I've lived with these walls for a long time and never realized just how bad they were. The more I chip away at the old, the more excited I become for new, fresh and clean color. With my closet already painted this warm very ligth pale yellow, I have a little hint and a promise of what is to come. And on this Mid November Evening Experiencing a Stalled Low Front with 85% chance of rain and sleet and 100% humidity, all I can say is, I cannot wait.
Friday, November 14, 2008
En Garde!
|
Well, there you go. A foil fencer? Maybe so. I am pretty lethal with a roll of Reynolds Wrap. Actually I am not a fencer at all, but apparently since 3pm today, my child is. Actually, I think the whole thing is pretty cool. It's part athletics, part theatre, part historical ritual, part French, part dance and part plain-old-living-over-the-top, which sums up TeenTuna quite nicely. She's easily the first one in my extended family who has participated in this particular activity. I have to imagine this will prompt a story or two.
Now to figure out where the fencing supply store is...
En Garde!
|
Well, there you go. A foil fencer? Maybe so. I am pretty lethal with a roll of Reynolds Wrap. Actually I am not a fencer at all, but apparently since 3pm today, my child is. Actually, I think the whole thing is pretty cool. It's part athletics, part theatre, part historical ritual, part French, part dance and part plain-old-living-over-the-top, which sums up TeenTuna quite nicely. She's easily the first one in my extended family who has participated in this particular activity. I have to imagine this will prompt a story or two.
Now to figure out where the fencing supply store is...
Thursday, November 13, 2008
Letting Go
There are days when teaching is thankless.
I mean to work.
I intend to educate.
I hope to inspire.
I hope to encourage.
I hope to motivate.
But there are no guarantees that everyone will take the bait, or accept the gift.
The hardest thing is to watch people fail.
There is no Schaudenfreude in education.
Because at the end of the day,
After all the teaching and trying,
After the inspiration and encouragement and motivational gymnastics
It's not up to me anymore.
I have to let go and see what happens.
And if they fall, I have to be strong and wait.
They have to choose to pick themselves back up again.
They have to accept responsibility for what went wrong.
They have to make changes so it doesn't happen again.
And if they make that choice...
If they brush themselves off
If they decide to try again
Then I'll be there
To work
To educate
To inspire
To encourage
To motivate
And to breathe deeply, cross my fingers and let go all over again.
I mean to work.
I intend to educate.
I hope to inspire.
I hope to encourage.
I hope to motivate.
But there are no guarantees that everyone will take the bait, or accept the gift.
The hardest thing is to watch people fail.
There is no Schaudenfreude in education.
Because at the end of the day,
After all the teaching and trying,
After the inspiration and encouragement and motivational gymnastics
It's not up to me anymore.
I have to let go and see what happens.
And if they fall, I have to be strong and wait.
They have to choose to pick themselves back up again.
They have to accept responsibility for what went wrong.
They have to make changes so it doesn't happen again.
And if they make that choice...
If they brush themselves off
If they decide to try again
Then I'll be there
To work
To educate
To inspire
To encourage
To motivate
And to breathe deeply, cross my fingers and let go all over again.
Letting Go
There are days when teaching is thankless.
I mean to work.
I intend to educate.
I hope to inspire.
I hope to encourage.
I hope to motivate.
But there are no guarantees that everyone will take the bait, or accept the gift.
The hardest thing is to watch people fail.
There is no Schaudenfreude in education.
Because at the end of the day,
After all the teaching and trying,
After the inspiration and encouragement and motivational gymnastics
It's not up to me anymore.
I have to let go and see what happens.
And if they fall, I have to be strong and wait.
They have to choose to pick themselves back up again.
They have to accept responsibility for what went wrong.
They have to make changes so it doesn't happen again.
And if they make that choice...
If they brush themselves off
If they decide to try again
Then I'll be there
To work
To educate
To inspire
To encourage
To motivate
And to breathe deeply, cross my fingers and let go all over again.
I mean to work.
I intend to educate.
I hope to inspire.
I hope to encourage.
I hope to motivate.
But there are no guarantees that everyone will take the bait, or accept the gift.
The hardest thing is to watch people fail.
There is no Schaudenfreude in education.
Because at the end of the day,
After all the teaching and trying,
After the inspiration and encouragement and motivational gymnastics
It's not up to me anymore.
I have to let go and see what happens.
And if they fall, I have to be strong and wait.
They have to choose to pick themselves back up again.
They have to accept responsibility for what went wrong.
They have to make changes so it doesn't happen again.
And if they make that choice...
If they brush themselves off
If they decide to try again
Then I'll be there
To work
To educate
To inspire
To encourage
To motivate
And to breathe deeply, cross my fingers and let go all over again.
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Today
Today I got a second monitor at work. It doesn't matter that my cube is the size of a postage stamp. Now that I have two monitors I'm well on my way to world domination. The fact that I was near-giddy about my latest technological acquisition tells you just how sad and small my blue fabric covered ergonomically correct life has become. But I STILL have two monitors, so let's hear it for techno-joy!
Today I learned that asparagus have congresses and tomatoes have international conferences. I'm tempted to toss in a casual response about celery not being invited and becoming stalkers, but I think that joke is too dopey even for me. Library humor: Live it. Love it. Then deny it's very existence.
Today I received a lovely note from a woman at church thanking TeenTuna and me for singing on Sunday. Even though I've been in the biz for a long time, I'm always extremely touched and humbled when I hear and read things like this. I don't sing for the glory or attention of it all. I sing because that's what and who I am, and I cannot imagine a day going by without living in music. I'm just the vehicle for the composer and the poet, and I'm always happy when others get as much joy out of it as I do.
Today as TeenTuna had rehearsal, I solved all the problems of the world, traded stories from the weekend, shared a little bit of gossip and completed three crossword puzzles. I also learned that catamaran WAS one of the answers we were looking for, and that the "Capital of Poland?" was Pee. Seriously. Crossword puzzle puns just about kill me.
Today I came home and did a Google search of "japanese aboriginal". The answer is Ainu and I'm quite certain whatever it was that I made up at the end of the 2nd crossword puzzle wasn't THAT.
Today I learned about the sinking of the Lusitania, the political theory of isolationism, the Sedition Act of 1918, and The Allies vs. the Central Powers. In other words, I have a test on World War I in two days.
Today I was baffled to discover there were NEW ORANGE CONSTRUCTION BARRELS on the road. My calendar say November, and I thought construction season was supposed to be over. Maybe it is. Except for two major roads they have decided to tear apart not far from my house. I'll give them until the start of hunting season (no, it means nothing...it's just a random date) which means everything better be gone by Saturday.
Today I have managed to procrastinate and now a few critical things which needed to be completed will be done first thing tomorrow morning. After all, why should today be any different?
Today I learned that asparagus have congresses and tomatoes have international conferences. I'm tempted to toss in a casual response about celery not being invited and becoming stalkers, but I think that joke is too dopey even for me. Library humor: Live it. Love it. Then deny it's very existence.
Today I received a lovely note from a woman at church thanking TeenTuna and me for singing on Sunday. Even though I've been in the biz for a long time, I'm always extremely touched and humbled when I hear and read things like this. I don't sing for the glory or attention of it all. I sing because that's what and who I am, and I cannot imagine a day going by without living in music. I'm just the vehicle for the composer and the poet, and I'm always happy when others get as much joy out of it as I do.
Today as TeenTuna had rehearsal, I solved all the problems of the world, traded stories from the weekend, shared a little bit of gossip and completed three crossword puzzles. I also learned that catamaran WAS one of the answers we were looking for, and that the "Capital of Poland?" was Pee. Seriously. Crossword puzzle puns just about kill me.
Today I came home and did a Google search of "japanese aboriginal". The answer is Ainu and I'm quite certain whatever it was that I made up at the end of the 2nd crossword puzzle wasn't THAT.
Today I learned about the sinking of the Lusitania, the political theory of isolationism, the Sedition Act of 1918, and The Allies vs. the Central Powers. In other words, I have a test on World War I in two days.
Today I was baffled to discover there were NEW ORANGE CONSTRUCTION BARRELS on the road. My calendar say November, and I thought construction season was supposed to be over. Maybe it is. Except for two major roads they have decided to tear apart not far from my house. I'll give them until the start of hunting season (no, it means nothing...it's just a random date) which means everything better be gone by Saturday.
Today I have managed to procrastinate and now a few critical things which needed to be completed will be done first thing tomorrow morning. After all, why should today be any different?
Today
Today I got a second monitor at work. It doesn't matter that my cube is the size of a postage stamp. Now that I have two monitors I'm well on my way to world domination. The fact that I was near-giddy about my latest technological acquisition tells you just how sad and small my blue fabric covered ergonomically correct life has become. But I STILL have two monitors, so let's hear it for techno-joy!
Today I learned that asparagus have congresses and tomatoes have international conferences. I'm tempted to toss in a casual response about celery not being invited and becoming stalkers, but I think that joke is too dopey even for me. Library humor: Live it. Love it. Then deny it's very existence.
Today I received a lovely note from a woman at church thanking TeenTuna and me for singing on Sunday. Even though I've been in the biz for a long time, I'm always extremely touched and humbled when I hear and read things like this. I don't sing for the glory or attention of it all. I sing because that's what and who I am, and I cannot imagine a day going by without living in music. I'm just the vehicle for the composer and the poet, and I'm always happy when others get as much joy out of it as I do.
Today as TeenTuna had rehearsal, I solved all the problems of the world, traded stories from the weekend, shared a little bit of gossip and completed three crossword puzzles. I also learned that catamaran WAS one of the answers we were looking for, and that the "Capital of Poland?" was Pee. Seriously. Crossword puzzle puns just about kill me.
Today I came home and did a Google search of "japanese aboriginal". The answer is Ainu and I'm quite certain whatever it was that I made up at the end of the 2nd crossword puzzle wasn't THAT.
Today I learned about the sinking of the Lusitania, the political theory of isolationism, the Sedition Act of 1918, and The Allies vs. the Central Powers. In other words, I have a test on World War I in two days.
Today I was baffled to discover there were NEW ORANGE CONSTRUCTION BARRELS on the road. My calendar say November, and I thought construction season was supposed to be over. Maybe it is. Except for two major roads they have decided to tear apart not far from my house. I'll give them until the start of hunting season (no, it means nothing...it's just a random date) which means everything better be gone by Saturday.
Today I have managed to procrastinate and now a few critical things which needed to be completed will be done first thing tomorrow morning. After all, why should today be any different?
Today I learned that asparagus have congresses and tomatoes have international conferences. I'm tempted to toss in a casual response about celery not being invited and becoming stalkers, but I think that joke is too dopey even for me. Library humor: Live it. Love it. Then deny it's very existence.
Today I received a lovely note from a woman at church thanking TeenTuna and me for singing on Sunday. Even though I've been in the biz for a long time, I'm always extremely touched and humbled when I hear and read things like this. I don't sing for the glory or attention of it all. I sing because that's what and who I am, and I cannot imagine a day going by without living in music. I'm just the vehicle for the composer and the poet, and I'm always happy when others get as much joy out of it as I do.
Today as TeenTuna had rehearsal, I solved all the problems of the world, traded stories from the weekend, shared a little bit of gossip and completed three crossword puzzles. I also learned that catamaran WAS one of the answers we were looking for, and that the "Capital of Poland?" was Pee. Seriously. Crossword puzzle puns just about kill me.
Today I came home and did a Google search of "japanese aboriginal". The answer is Ainu and I'm quite certain whatever it was that I made up at the end of the 2nd crossword puzzle wasn't THAT.
Today I learned about the sinking of the Lusitania, the political theory of isolationism, the Sedition Act of 1918, and The Allies vs. the Central Powers. In other words, I have a test on World War I in two days.
Today I was baffled to discover there were NEW ORANGE CONSTRUCTION BARRELS on the road. My calendar say November, and I thought construction season was supposed to be over. Maybe it is. Except for two major roads they have decided to tear apart not far from my house. I'll give them until the start of hunting season (no, it means nothing...it's just a random date) which means everything better be gone by Saturday.
Today I have managed to procrastinate and now a few critical things which needed to be completed will be done first thing tomorrow morning. After all, why should today be any different?
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Take a Message
I'm officially too tired to be witty or profound on my own, so tonight I'm going to highlight some favorite blog reads. Both of these are sort of "message in a bottle" blogs that are both fun and poignant inside with what we think and how we share it.
The first is the hysterical Postcards from Yo Momma which is a blog filled with IM conversations from the maternal unit.
Some favorites include the hilariously biting Mom, Dad and Facebook: A Dangerous Combination
There are always the wonderfully inane Post-Election Reward
Or the top vote getter of all time, Don't Passive-Aggressive-Smile-Face-ME. If that doesn't sum up mother-child relationships in one short paragraph, I don't know what does.
The other site as poignant as "Postcards" is funny. PostSecret is a Sunday-only blog that posts...secrets. According to the website, "PostSecret is an ongoing community art project where people mail in their secrets anonymously on one side of a postcard." The secrets are sometimes funny, sometimes sad, sometimes risque, sometimes poignant, sometimes celebratory, sometimes defiant and sometimes cries for help. Secrets from the PostSecret site have prompted the publication of four books, as well as national art exhibits and lectures all over the country.
You might wonder why anyone would share their secret with the world. I think the answer is, because everyone needs a sounding board, a wailing wall, a strong shoulder or a sympathetic ear. As you read through the site, you might be embarassed at some and think others are silly or strange. But it's very comforting when you hit on someone else's secret and your gut reaction is, "I thought I was the only one who felt this way." It makes the world a little smaller, and a lot more sympathetic.
So....what do YOU have to say?
The first is the hysterical Postcards from Yo Momma which is a blog filled with IM conversations from the maternal unit.
Some favorites include the hilariously biting Mom, Dad and Facebook: A Dangerous Combination
There are always the wonderfully inane Post-Election Reward
Or the top vote getter of all time, Don't Passive-Aggressive-Smile-Face-ME. If that doesn't sum up mother-child relationships in one short paragraph, I don't know what does.
The other site as poignant as "Postcards" is funny. PostSecret is a Sunday-only blog that posts...secrets. According to the website, "PostSecret is an ongoing community art project where people mail in their secrets anonymously on one side of a postcard." The secrets are sometimes funny, sometimes sad, sometimes risque, sometimes poignant, sometimes celebratory, sometimes defiant and sometimes cries for help. Secrets from the PostSecret site have prompted the publication of four books, as well as national art exhibits and lectures all over the country.
You might wonder why anyone would share their secret with the world. I think the answer is, because everyone needs a sounding board, a wailing wall, a strong shoulder or a sympathetic ear. As you read through the site, you might be embarassed at some and think others are silly or strange. But it's very comforting when you hit on someone else's secret and your gut reaction is, "I thought I was the only one who felt this way." It makes the world a little smaller, and a lot more sympathetic.
So....what do YOU have to say?
Take a Message
I'm officially too tired to be witty or profound on my own, so tonight I'm going to highlight some favorite blog reads. Both of these are sort of "message in a bottle" blogs that are both fun and poignant inside with what we think and how we share it.
The first is the hysterical Postcards from Yo Momma which is a blog filled with IM conversations from the maternal unit.
Some favorites include the hilariously biting Mom, Dad and Facebook: A Dangerous Combination
There are always the wonderfully inane Post-Election Reward
Or the top vote getter of all time, Don't Passive-Aggressive-Smile-Face-ME. If that doesn't sum up mother-child relationships in one short paragraph, I don't know what does.
The other site as poignant as "Postcards" is funny. PostSecret is a Sunday-only blog that posts...secrets. According to the website, "PostSecret is an ongoing community art project where people mail in their secrets anonymously on one side of a postcard." The secrets are sometimes funny, sometimes sad, sometimes risque, sometimes poignant, sometimes celebratory, sometimes defiant and sometimes cries for help. Secrets from the PostSecret site have prompted the publication of four books, as well as national art exhibits and lectures all over the country.
You might wonder why anyone would share their secret with the world. I think the answer is, because everyone needs a sounding board, a wailing wall, a strong shoulder or a sympathetic ear. As you read through the site, you might be embarassed at some and think others are silly or strange. But it's very comforting when you hit on someone else's secret and your gut reaction is, "I thought I was the only one who felt this way." It makes the world a little smaller, and a lot more sympathetic.
So....what do YOU have to say?
The first is the hysterical Postcards from Yo Momma which is a blog filled with IM conversations from the maternal unit.
Some favorites include the hilariously biting Mom, Dad and Facebook: A Dangerous Combination
There are always the wonderfully inane Post-Election Reward
Or the top vote getter of all time, Don't Passive-Aggressive-Smile-Face-ME. If that doesn't sum up mother-child relationships in one short paragraph, I don't know what does.
The other site as poignant as "Postcards" is funny. PostSecret is a Sunday-only blog that posts...secrets. According to the website, "PostSecret is an ongoing community art project where people mail in their secrets anonymously on one side of a postcard." The secrets are sometimes funny, sometimes sad, sometimes risque, sometimes poignant, sometimes celebratory, sometimes defiant and sometimes cries for help. Secrets from the PostSecret site have prompted the publication of four books, as well as national art exhibits and lectures all over the country.
You might wonder why anyone would share their secret with the world. I think the answer is, because everyone needs a sounding board, a wailing wall, a strong shoulder or a sympathetic ear. As you read through the site, you might be embarassed at some and think others are silly or strange. But it's very comforting when you hit on someone else's secret and your gut reaction is, "I thought I was the only one who felt this way." It makes the world a little smaller, and a lot more sympathetic.
So....what do YOU have to say?
Monday, November 10, 2008
I'd Like to Teach the World to Sing...
As i was getting ready for long-teaching-day Tuesday, I started thinking about the whole process of teaching which led me to think about the 2008 word of the year, which has to be change. Over the past many many months we have had the word "change" blasted at us every which way, and I wonder if the entire concept hasn't become a little, well...yesterday. If so, that would be too bad because if there is one thing change is NOT, it's blasé.
To teaching voice is to teach change. It's truer for this particular musical instrument moreso than any others because we sing as soon as we can babble. Nobody teaches us how. It's just one of many ways we express ourselves. The problem is, after years of singing with Elmo, giggling through all 99 bottles of beer on the wall and wailing with all due teenage angst with the tortured alternative grunge singer du jour, our instrument (to put it bluntly) has been through the ringer and then some. So, when the time comes to study voice, there is a lot of un-doing that has to be done. There needs to be a lot of change.
But here's the problem. There is one little detail that is easy to forget. Although there is a certain excitement and allure to making the decision to change, the actual process isn't all that exciting. In fact it's often boring. And time-consuming. And frustrating. Progress can be so incremental, it often seems as if nothing is changing at all. Once that happens, the self-doubts set in: to undo past habits we SWEAR always worked before (except, of course, when they really didn't, but who wants to admit THAT?) for an unsure result seems folly. Why spend all this time spinning our wheels going nowhere? Forget the work and turn up the radio. We'll sing what we can and fake the rest. It's so much easier that way.
The important thing to remember is, without training eventually the voice is going to fail. Without changing old habits, the same notes will always be problems. We'll never be able to sing as high as we want to, or as long as we want to, or as freely as we want to. Without change, we've chosen to limit ourselves to only that which we know, instead of that which we imagine we can become.
This semester I've been teaching a pedagogy course -- that is, a course in teaching students how to teach. After assigning a certain set of readings, they came back and said they understood now how I taught. Actually, they accused me of being overly encouraging, which, frankly, I found hysterical. Over the weeks, what these students came to learn was that although teachers teach, the good ones do more than instruct. Good teachers encourage and challenge students to change for the better. Good teachers remember what it was like to be a student and empathize when change seems to come too slowly. Good teachers recognize and celebrate improvements, and inspire students to listen, work and practice diligently on their own.
Teachers are changed with the task of seeing possibilities, hearing potential and inspiring change. Our reward is sharing in the student's realization of a free and relaxed vocal instrument. It doesn't happen with every student, but I never give up trying. Every singer represents another opportunity to embrace change for the better. And looking at all the thousands upon thousands of songs to sing in this world, I know for certain it's worth the work. It's worth the trouble. It's worth the change. Every single time.
To teaching voice is to teach change. It's truer for this particular musical instrument moreso than any others because we sing as soon as we can babble. Nobody teaches us how. It's just one of many ways we express ourselves. The problem is, after years of singing with Elmo, giggling through all 99 bottles of beer on the wall and wailing with all due teenage angst with the tortured alternative grunge singer du jour, our instrument (to put it bluntly) has been through the ringer and then some. So, when the time comes to study voice, there is a lot of un-doing that has to be done. There needs to be a lot of change.
But here's the problem. There is one little detail that is easy to forget. Although there is a certain excitement and allure to making the decision to change, the actual process isn't all that exciting. In fact it's often boring. And time-consuming. And frustrating. Progress can be so incremental, it often seems as if nothing is changing at all. Once that happens, the self-doubts set in: to undo past habits we SWEAR always worked before (except, of course, when they really didn't, but who wants to admit THAT?) for an unsure result seems folly. Why spend all this time spinning our wheels going nowhere? Forget the work and turn up the radio. We'll sing what we can and fake the rest. It's so much easier that way.
The important thing to remember is, without training eventually the voice is going to fail. Without changing old habits, the same notes will always be problems. We'll never be able to sing as high as we want to, or as long as we want to, or as freely as we want to. Without change, we've chosen to limit ourselves to only that which we know, instead of that which we imagine we can become.
This semester I've been teaching a pedagogy course -- that is, a course in teaching students how to teach. After assigning a certain set of readings, they came back and said they understood now how I taught. Actually, they accused me of being overly encouraging, which, frankly, I found hysterical. Over the weeks, what these students came to learn was that although teachers teach, the good ones do more than instruct. Good teachers encourage and challenge students to change for the better. Good teachers remember what it was like to be a student and empathize when change seems to come too slowly. Good teachers recognize and celebrate improvements, and inspire students to listen, work and practice diligently on their own.
Teachers are changed with the task of seeing possibilities, hearing potential and inspiring change. Our reward is sharing in the student's realization of a free and relaxed vocal instrument. It doesn't happen with every student, but I never give up trying. Every singer represents another opportunity to embrace change for the better. And looking at all the thousands upon thousands of songs to sing in this world, I know for certain it's worth the work. It's worth the trouble. It's worth the change. Every single time.
I'd Like to Teach the World to Sing...
As i was getting ready for long-teaching-day Tuesday, I started thinking about the whole process of teaching which led me to think about the 2008 word of the year, which has to be change. Over the past many many months we have had the word "change" blasted at us every which way, and I wonder if the entire concept hasn't become a little, well...yesterday. If so, that would be too bad because if there is one thing change is NOT, it's blasé.
To teaching voice is to teach change. It's truer for this particular musical instrument moreso than any others because we sing as soon as we can babble. Nobody teaches us how. It's just one of many ways we express ourselves. The problem is, after years of singing with Elmo, giggling through all 99 bottles of beer on the wall and wailing with all due teenage angst with the tortured alternative grunge singer du jour, our instrument (to put it bluntly) has been through the ringer and then some. So, when the time comes to study voice, there is a lot of un-doing that has to be done. There needs to be a lot of change.
But here's the problem. There is one little detail that is easy to forget. Although there is a certain excitement and allure to making the decision to change, the actual process isn't all that exciting. In fact it's often boring. And time-consuming. And frustrating. Progress can be so incremental, it often seems as if nothing is changing at all. Once that happens, the self-doubts set in: to undo past habits we SWEAR always worked before (except, of course, when they really didn't, but who wants to admit THAT?) for an unsure result seems folly. Why spend all this time spinning our wheels going nowhere? Forget the work and turn up the radio. We'll sing what we can and fake the rest. It's so much easier that way.
The important thing to remember is, without training eventually the voice is going to fail. Without changing old habits, the same notes will always be problems. We'll never be able to sing as high as we want to, or as long as we want to, or as freely as we want to. Without change, we've chosen to limit ourselves to only that which we know, instead of that which we imagine we can become.
This semester I've been teaching a pedagogy course -- that is, a course in teaching students how to teach. After assigning a certain set of readings, they came back and said they understood now how I taught. Actually, they accused me of being overly encouraging, which, frankly, I found hysterical. Over the weeks, what these students came to learn was that although teachers teach, the good ones do more than instruct. Good teachers encourage and challenge students to change for the better. Good teachers remember what it was like to be a student and empathize when change seems to come too slowly. Good teachers recognize and celebrate improvements, and inspire students to listen, work and practice diligently on their own.
Teachers are changed with the task of seeing possibilities, hearing potential and inspiring change. Our reward is sharing in the student's realization of a free and relaxed vocal instrument. It doesn't happen with every student, but I never give up trying. Every singer represents another opportunity to embrace change for the better. And looking at all the thousands upon thousands of songs to sing in this world, I know for certain it's worth the work. It's worth the trouble. It's worth the change. Every single time.
To teaching voice is to teach change. It's truer for this particular musical instrument moreso than any others because we sing as soon as we can babble. Nobody teaches us how. It's just one of many ways we express ourselves. The problem is, after years of singing with Elmo, giggling through all 99 bottles of beer on the wall and wailing with all due teenage angst with the tortured alternative grunge singer du jour, our instrument (to put it bluntly) has been through the ringer and then some. So, when the time comes to study voice, there is a lot of un-doing that has to be done. There needs to be a lot of change.
But here's the problem. There is one little detail that is easy to forget. Although there is a certain excitement and allure to making the decision to change, the actual process isn't all that exciting. In fact it's often boring. And time-consuming. And frustrating. Progress can be so incremental, it often seems as if nothing is changing at all. Once that happens, the self-doubts set in: to undo past habits we SWEAR always worked before (except, of course, when they really didn't, but who wants to admit THAT?) for an unsure result seems folly. Why spend all this time spinning our wheels going nowhere? Forget the work and turn up the radio. We'll sing what we can and fake the rest. It's so much easier that way.
The important thing to remember is, without training eventually the voice is going to fail. Without changing old habits, the same notes will always be problems. We'll never be able to sing as high as we want to, or as long as we want to, or as freely as we want to. Without change, we've chosen to limit ourselves to only that which we know, instead of that which we imagine we can become.
This semester I've been teaching a pedagogy course -- that is, a course in teaching students how to teach. After assigning a certain set of readings, they came back and said they understood now how I taught. Actually, they accused me of being overly encouraging, which, frankly, I found hysterical. Over the weeks, what these students came to learn was that although teachers teach, the good ones do more than instruct. Good teachers encourage and challenge students to change for the better. Good teachers remember what it was like to be a student and empathize when change seems to come too slowly. Good teachers recognize and celebrate improvements, and inspire students to listen, work and practice diligently on their own.
Teachers are changed with the task of seeing possibilities, hearing potential and inspiring change. Our reward is sharing in the student's realization of a free and relaxed vocal instrument. It doesn't happen with every student, but I never give up trying. Every singer represents another opportunity to embrace change for the better. And looking at all the thousands upon thousands of songs to sing in this world, I know for certain it's worth the work. It's worth the trouble. It's worth the change. Every single time.
Sunday, November 09, 2008
Unconscious Mutterings
I say ... And you think:
1. Coverage :: Some people never seem to have enough
2. Cynical :: Guilty as charged
3. Gust :: of wind
4. Improvised :: Takes as much skill as it does imagination
5. V :: How I sign most of my emails
6. Guests :: No room for any at the moment
7. Brutal :: Truth
8. Grant :: Give
9. Pull :: Influence
10. Streaming :: Media
Wow. Guess this is all about me week. That, or I need a nap. Or a timeout. Or a big bottle of wine. Frankly, all of the above sounds good.
1. Coverage :: Some people never seem to have enough
2. Cynical :: Guilty as charged
3. Gust :: of wind
4. Improvised :: Takes as much skill as it does imagination
5. V :: How I sign most of my emails
6. Guests :: No room for any at the moment
7. Brutal :: Truth
8. Grant :: Give
9. Pull :: Influence
10. Streaming :: Media
Wow. Guess this is all about me week. That, or I need a nap. Or a timeout. Or a big bottle of wine. Frankly, all of the above sounds good.
Unconscious Mutterings
I say ... And you think:
1. Coverage :: Some people never seem to have enough
2. Cynical :: Guilty as charged
3. Gust :: of wind
4. Improvised :: Takes as much skill as it does imagination
5. V :: How I sign most of my emails
6. Guests :: No room for any at the moment
7. Brutal :: Truth
8. Grant :: Give
9. Pull :: Influence
10. Streaming :: Media
Wow. Guess this is all about me week. That, or I need a nap. Or a timeout. Or a big bottle of wine. Frankly, all of the above sounds good.
1. Coverage :: Some people never seem to have enough
2. Cynical :: Guilty as charged
3. Gust :: of wind
4. Improvised :: Takes as much skill as it does imagination
5. V :: How I sign most of my emails
6. Guests :: No room for any at the moment
7. Brutal :: Truth
8. Grant :: Give
9. Pull :: Influence
10. Streaming :: Media
Wow. Guess this is all about me week. That, or I need a nap. Or a timeout. Or a big bottle of wine. Frankly, all of the above sounds good.
Saturday, November 08, 2008
Once more, with peeling
Here we go again: once again I'm covered in paint chips.
Progress on my bedroom (which has been next in line since AUGUST for an interior overhaul) has moved at a pace that would insult snails, molasses in winter three-toed sloths. Needless to say I've been a little busy. But despite my insane schedule, I've been trying to get through the prep work -- a little bit at a time -- so when painting day finally comes around, everything will be chipped, washed, repaired and ready to rock and roll.
One wall was already completed. I basically had to chip away all the paint, because it was cracked in bits and pieces all over the wall. I wasn't entirely surprised that the dingy off-drab grey chipped down to white plaster. After all, it was an outside wall, and I imagined the constant exposure to hot and cold, sun and snow, and wind and rain didn't help matters much. It seemed a very plausible excuse, and explains, in some sort of twisted way, why tonight I thought I'd move the computer table and expose the smaller interior wall to make sure there weren't any repair-type surprises.
And there weren't. Until I picked up a paint chipper to get at a little corner that had started to chip. And with one not-particularly strenous swoop, a huge swath of paint came off the wall.
Ugh.
So, I spent the next couple of hours chipping the wall. Luckily for the wall, my sanity, and any other innocents, the paint came off fairly quickly and easily. So now, it's two walls done. Two to go. I'm no longer betting that any of the remaining walls "won't need that much work." They probably will. But I'm hoping, frankly, that my lack of despondency, panic and sheer anger at the slowness of this project shows my newfound understanding of the home renovation biz. Nothing ever goes as planned, nothing is ever as easy as you thought and you might as well accept it now and get over it. But I also know that time spent on the front end of the project will pay off in the end. Over the long haul I'll be glad I scraped and repaired and took the time necessary to do the job right.
Just do me a favor and remind me of how serene and accepting I am of this situation when, after picking paint chips out of my hair and surveying the spectacular destruction of my house, I decide the best home improvement would be to stick my head in the oven and just forget the rest.
Progress on my bedroom (which has been next in line since AUGUST for an interior overhaul) has moved at a pace that would insult snails, molasses in winter three-toed sloths. Needless to say I've been a little busy. But despite my insane schedule, I've been trying to get through the prep work -- a little bit at a time -- so when painting day finally comes around, everything will be chipped, washed, repaired and ready to rock and roll.
One wall was already completed. I basically had to chip away all the paint, because it was cracked in bits and pieces all over the wall. I wasn't entirely surprised that the dingy off-drab grey chipped down to white plaster. After all, it was an outside wall, and I imagined the constant exposure to hot and cold, sun and snow, and wind and rain didn't help matters much. It seemed a very plausible excuse, and explains, in some sort of twisted way, why tonight I thought I'd move the computer table and expose the smaller interior wall to make sure there weren't any repair-type surprises.
And there weren't. Until I picked up a paint chipper to get at a little corner that had started to chip. And with one not-particularly strenous swoop, a huge swath of paint came off the wall.
Ugh.
So, I spent the next couple of hours chipping the wall. Luckily for the wall, my sanity, and any other innocents, the paint came off fairly quickly and easily. So now, it's two walls done. Two to go. I'm no longer betting that any of the remaining walls "won't need that much work." They probably will. But I'm hoping, frankly, that my lack of despondency, panic and sheer anger at the slowness of this project shows my newfound understanding of the home renovation biz. Nothing ever goes as planned, nothing is ever as easy as you thought and you might as well accept it now and get over it. But I also know that time spent on the front end of the project will pay off in the end. Over the long haul I'll be glad I scraped and repaired and took the time necessary to do the job right.
Just do me a favor and remind me of how serene and accepting I am of this situation when, after picking paint chips out of my hair and surveying the spectacular destruction of my house, I decide the best home improvement would be to stick my head in the oven and just forget the rest.
Once more, with peeling
Here we go again: once again I'm covered in paint chips.
Progress on my bedroom (which has been next in line since AUGUST for an interior overhaul) has moved at a pace that would insult snails, molasses in winter three-toed sloths. Needless to say I've been a little busy. But despite my insane schedule, I've been trying to get through the prep work -- a little bit at a time -- so when painting day finally comes around, everything will be chipped, washed, repaired and ready to rock and roll.
One wall was already completed. I basically had to chip away all the paint, because it was cracked in bits and pieces all over the wall. I wasn't entirely surprised that the dingy off-drab grey chipped down to white plaster. After all, it was an outside wall, and I imagined the constant exposure to hot and cold, sun and snow, and wind and rain didn't help matters much. It seemed a very plausible excuse, and explains, in some sort of twisted way, why tonight I thought I'd move the computer table and expose the smaller interior wall to make sure there weren't any repair-type surprises.
And there weren't. Until I picked up a paint chipper to get at a little corner that had started to chip. And with one not-particularly strenous swoop, a huge swath of paint came off the wall.
Ugh.
So, I spent the next couple of hours chipping the wall. Luckily for the wall, my sanity, and any other innocents, the paint came off fairly quickly and easily. So now, it's two walls done. Two to go. I'm no longer betting that any of the remaining walls "won't need that much work." They probably will. But I'm hoping, frankly, that my lack of despondency, panic and sheer anger at the slowness of this project shows my newfound understanding of the home renovation biz. Nothing ever goes as planned, nothing is ever as easy as you thought and you might as well accept it now and get over it. But I also know that time spent on the front end of the project will pay off in the end. Over the long haul I'll be glad I scraped and repaired and took the time necessary to do the job right.
Just do me a favor and remind me of how serene and accepting I am of this situation when, after picking paint chips out of my hair and surveying the spectacular destruction of my house, I decide the best home improvement would be to stick my head in the oven and just forget the rest.
Progress on my bedroom (which has been next in line since AUGUST for an interior overhaul) has moved at a pace that would insult snails, molasses in winter three-toed sloths. Needless to say I've been a little busy. But despite my insane schedule, I've been trying to get through the prep work -- a little bit at a time -- so when painting day finally comes around, everything will be chipped, washed, repaired and ready to rock and roll.
One wall was already completed. I basically had to chip away all the paint, because it was cracked in bits and pieces all over the wall. I wasn't entirely surprised that the dingy off-drab grey chipped down to white plaster. After all, it was an outside wall, and I imagined the constant exposure to hot and cold, sun and snow, and wind and rain didn't help matters much. It seemed a very plausible excuse, and explains, in some sort of twisted way, why tonight I thought I'd move the computer table and expose the smaller interior wall to make sure there weren't any repair-type surprises.
And there weren't. Until I picked up a paint chipper to get at a little corner that had started to chip. And with one not-particularly strenous swoop, a huge swath of paint came off the wall.
Ugh.
So, I spent the next couple of hours chipping the wall. Luckily for the wall, my sanity, and any other innocents, the paint came off fairly quickly and easily. So now, it's two walls done. Two to go. I'm no longer betting that any of the remaining walls "won't need that much work." They probably will. But I'm hoping, frankly, that my lack of despondency, panic and sheer anger at the slowness of this project shows my newfound understanding of the home renovation biz. Nothing ever goes as planned, nothing is ever as easy as you thought and you might as well accept it now and get over it. But I also know that time spent on the front end of the project will pay off in the end. Over the long haul I'll be glad I scraped and repaired and took the time necessary to do the job right.
Just do me a favor and remind me of how serene and accepting I am of this situation when, after picking paint chips out of my hair and surveying the spectacular destruction of my house, I decide the best home improvement would be to stick my head in the oven and just forget the rest.
Friday, November 07, 2008
Riding the Bullet Train
- I now have clean plates. I'm still short on silverware, but if I got up and left you all hanging for 15 minutes, I'd have a full complement of forks, knives and spoons.
- Why is it when you run out of plates you run out of everything else too? This applies to socks, toilet paper, toothpaste and patience. Conspiracy theory, anybody?
- Survivor finally got interesting last night. America's Next Top Model has been rather boring this entire cycle. And I hate to say it, but Amazing Race -- a show I LOVE -- has been less than riveting as well. Don't get me started on Heroes. I don't think I understand anything about this show anymore. I fully expect the weird Hawaiian Island Polar Bear to show up at any moment.
- No more political commercials and no more robocalls. Life is very, very good. However, I'm still not planning on answering my phone if the incoming call doesn't pass my caller ID test. I'm happy, not stupid.
- Opportunities for leaf scuffling are growing thin. This week was perfect for mid-afternoon scuffling. It's supposed to rain this weekend, though, which totally ruins the scuffling experience. Wet leaves don't scuffle. They wilt like soggy corn flakes, and then they stick to your shoes. Yuck.
- Tomorrow is the last home game of the football season here at TunaU. Can I say THANK GOD? I think you're either born with the whole football tailgating gene or not, and I was definitely reading a book, or sleeping, or cleaning out the lint trap when the love of the tailgate was passed out. If I wanted to eat out of my trunk, I'd just set up shop in the grocery store parking lot every Saturday.
- South Park continues to amaze me for their ability to take current events and put huge chunks of actual quotes in an episode less than 48 hours later. If you missed it, the entire 2008 Election ended up being an "Ocean's Eleven" ripoff, which was priceless. The Simpson's Halloween show was quite spectacular this year as well. I especially loved the whole Charlie Brown Halloween sendoff.
- Do you think it would be possible for South Park and The Simpons to go to The Cartoon Network and beat up all the animated crap they show on TV? I think the Fairly Odd Parents and all those other unbelievably inferior cartoons would be in a world of hurt. It would be a public service.
- Friday is nearly officially over. I'm way tired (there's something not new at all), and Fiddle-Dee-Dee, tomorrow is another day. With God as my witness, I'll see you all back here tomorrow.
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