Mama Christy's

Farmville's Tragic Hidden Costs

2010-08-30T12:44:00.000-07:00

My buddy Mike got a little fed up with Farmville... he posted this letter to Farmville on his Facebook and now I'm pretty sure he's sleeping on the couch.

Dear FarmVille

by Michael E. on Monday, August 30, 2010 at 8:30am

Since you've been spending the majority of my wife's time with her, I thought maybe it would be cool if you would come over and share some of the duties that normally fall to her husband. Maybe bring home a paycheck or two, cut the grass, take out the garbage, do the dishes.....something maybe (surprise me). Oh yeah, her birthday is coming up but I guess you already knew that. I can't really suggest what she may like as I'm not sure I know anymore. Oh wait a minute...she likes "you!" Maybe you can find a way to let her farm in her sleep so she doesn't miss any quality time with your freakin imaginary asparagus or your stupid beehives that she had to become friends with countless random teenagers and sex offenders with fake profiles in order to build (she doesn't even like bees!) I personally will be getting her a prescription for Ambian which I will be secretly mashing up into her dinner so that she might fall asleep before midnight instead of you keeping her up until 3:30am and letting her fall asleep with her face in the keyboard trying to get one last magical baby blanket to make a nursery for all of the "poor little orphaned platypuses" or whatever random sob story you throw at her to keep her clicking on weeds and bear poop. I considered having an intervention until I realized you were having the same sick affair with all of her friends and family members. So you win again Mr. Farmville! Maybe you could cut some of us "ex"-husbands a break and add some fucking seasons into your little tryst so that we might get to know our wives again for a mere 3 month period during the Winter months? Know that I am learning how to program so that I can hack into your programming and add natural disasters into the mix but I am sure that you will parlay that into something where she can click on hurricanes and flood waters some God awful amount of times to earn some ridiculous limited edition duck pond. So I guess, bottom line Farmville, you win. You have proved to be the better man. Go fuck yourself! Please extend my thanks to your friends HappyPets, FrontierVille, HappyAquarium, HappyIsland, ZooWorld, BackyardMonsters, and PetVille.

Oh Boy, Oh Burger (A Review)

2010-08-07T06:26:00.001-07:00

The Cherry Cricket doesn't seem like much from the outside. Located in chic Cherry Creek, this place isn't flashy, it's not particularly classy. If you're looking for a little black dress and suit kind of place, move on. However the long line on a Friday night should be a clue: this place has something.

What the Cherry Cricket has is burgers. The menu is simple, almost disappointing if you don't know what you're about to consume. Customizable, delicious beef burgery goodness. I had mine with blue cheese crumbles and bacon. Bill took his with smoked, bacon and barbecue sauce (and the rest of mine, of course). Of course, you can get all the required side deliciousness: baskets of fries, rings, frings but they also have a surprisingly extensive list of beers.

Dress is casual and the prices are low, especially for the area. If you go on a weekend, be prepared to wait for a table. I doubt, after 65 years they need many more endorsements, but if so, they've got mine.

2641 East 2nd Ave
Denver, CO 80206
(In Cherry Creek North)
303-322-7666

Open everyday 11AM -2AM
Happy Hour 4:30 - 6:00PM and 10PM - Midnight

Happy Father's Day, whether you like it or not

2010-06-20T05:49:00.000-07:00

My dad and I have a rocky relationship. He's a Jehovah's Witness, an organization I left nearly 20 years ago. I have made choices he cannot approve and sometimes doesn't understand. At times, we've gone months or weeks without talking.

My dad has hurt me more than almost anyone ever could. I am positive I've done the same to him and yet, we work through it. We find our way to a battered but nonetheless welcome peace. Sometimes I reach out, sometimes he does, but we always find our way back to each other.

Several years ago I was at a point where I wondered if my dad loved me anymore, whether he regretted my existence. At the time, my parents were in the process of moving from Laramie, Wyoming to Rochester, Washington. Even though our relationship was in shards at the time, as my parents prepared to move, I felt like a person about to be orphaned. My issues with my dad made the process excruciating. How could I ever hope we'd fix this if I couldn't go to him, take his hand and talk?

You know what it's like when people live in one spot more than 20 years; stuff builds up. Crap builds up but also stuff. Almost like the Oregon Trail days, on their journey to the West, my parents were dumping items they loved but could live without at the edge of the trail. Furniture, books, pictures, hideous old clothes all went by the wayside.

Apparently, most of the items my parents didn't need, they believed I truly did. Almost every week, I'd get a call asking me to come pick up a box or two. Sometimes the items were my own possessions; items from my past, sometimes possessions of my parents which they thought I needed or wanted. Sometimes they were right and sometimes they were wrong. Thanks Dad, but I really don't need a 20yr old home humidifier that doesn't work. Let me know if you find someone who does need that, I need to have a serious conversation with that person.

Each kid has a story of betrayal by his or her parents. The bike you begged for on your birthday but didn't get. The piano recital they couldn't get to because they had to work. We collect them, moon over them, sometimes using them as excuses for crappy behavior in our adult lives, even though they're really not. One of my parent's little betrayals had been that I'd believed, right or wrong, that they'd lost my baby book. My brother had one but not me. Oh boy did I use THAT little gem during hard drinking binges.

One afternoon, we went to pick up a box of items my parents took out of my room. My scrapbook from H.S., a trunk full of Barbie clothes, the letter I earned for band, various other items were piled in to the box but at the bottom was another, smaller white box. The kind books usually come in. Its lid would hardly stay on for the number of items stuffed into it. Papers, letters, cards, heralding and celebrating my birth, a handwritten sign that my dad's coworkers must have put up on a door somewhere with the details of my birth. Finally, amazingly, a baby book. Mine. You may need tissues for this next part, I know I will. I opened the cover and got the shock of my life.

Most of the time it's the mommy who fills out the baby book but not for me. My father filled out mine. The dad I fought with for twenty-some years had filled in every single page, every milestone, ever anecdote of that journal. Every entry burst with pride, every word filled with love. Practically every single day of my first year was there, written in his horrible handwriting, accounted with the same care and diligence he brings to everything. I cried for hours. I'm crying now.

No matter what happened after, no matter how we let each other down, I will always know how much I mean to him. It's all there, written in ink, for me to see.

Because he's a J.W., I can't call him to say Happy Father's day. Can't send a card, can't take him to a ballgame or golfing, can't have a picnic. But today I still want to say 'Thank you, Dad.' For everything.

A Life Worth Living

2010-03-03T16:04:00.000-08:00

My grandfather died a week ago.

All things considered, it was very peaceful. All things considered, I am incredibly lucky. For those reasons, and because it's how I process death, I haven't cried very much since it happened. I start grieving long before my loved one actually passes and by the time it happens, I'm well into a numb/dry spell. I spend days and weeks telling everyone in ear shot my little memories, our special 'nobody else cares' traditions so I'm talked out and often cried out when the day itself comes.

I have cried a little but for other reasons, other hurts. Much less involved with my grandfather and more involved with old wounds and tough memories, the kinds of things that come up when you spend time with close relatives. Since he died, I've spent a lot of time thinking about and remembering little things. saying goodbye quietly and gently.

Two weeks ago, I went to see him.

I sat at on PopPop's bed and picked up his hand. Wish #1 fulfilled: touching him one more time. He was incredibly frail but didn't mind that I sat close. He woke for a few minutes and greeted my brother and I. Wish #2: he knew us and was glad to see us.

Alex brought beautiful little Lorelei, my niece. Wish #3: PopPop met all of his great-grandchildren. The contrast between the two people was striking, bringing the reason for our trip into sharp clarity. A life beginning with joyful noise and one ending with respectful quiet. His voice was a whisper, Lorelei's is usually a delighted squeal.

Though the trip was brief and for me, very sad, it was also incredibly fulfilling. Time was precious so we didn't waste it. Sure, we had downtime; hours of talk and quiet with my parents, my brother, sister in law, aunt and uncle but that time was time well spent. These people knew him and respected him, loved him just as much as I did. To spend a few hours, better, a few days bonding with them was a balm to my heart and a reassurance that wonderful new things can come from the end of wonderful old things.

Throughout the trip, and even through profound grief, I had an overwhelming sense of gratitude. To my parents for arranging the trip, to my grandfather, aunt and uncle for facilitating it, to my brother and his family for accompanying me on the journey. To the universe for setting the situation up so perfectly, at exactly the right moment. It might not have shown outwardly, but even as my heart broke, it was comforted by the kindness of near-strangers, by the touch of someone I deeply loved and the chance to be near him one last time. Few times in life is a person fortunate enough to get the sort of closure I did. Rarely is anyone lucky enough to actually get there in time or to say what they're really feeling. I carried that gratitude home with me and it's propelled me through the last few weeks, will probably drive my life for a long time after.

There were many wonderful, comforting moments during the trip. I was able to say things to him that I needed him to know. He told me what I knew but needed to hear. The climax came just before we left that first day. That was when I was able to find exactly the right words.

Thank you for saving my life.

I'd hoped for a kind response, an acknowledgement. Instead, I got his best, last gift.

You're welcome. It was a life worth saving.

Why do I have to be THAT kind of writer?

2010-02-07T06:57:00.000-08:00

I am the sunny optimist. I complain that literature has to be sad. I get into great debates with literature teachers about the reason WHY great literature has to be so sad.

I think I finally understand. I don't write when I'm happy or content. When I'm happy, giggly, goofy or silly, it's hard for me to write. I want to be enjoying the moment, not clacking away at my keyboard and my loved ones want me to be enjoying the moment with them, not clacking away at the keyboard.

The other downside to writing in that mood is that unless the occasion is momentous, happy giggly goofy silly writing is, well, boring.

Now I understand. Pain makes me write. When I'm tired of crying, or when I cannot yet cry, writing forces the emotions out. It lets me see them, lets me tell others what I mean in a way I generally cannot with my voice.

Now that I know it, one thing concerns me. Does this mean I have to start being miserable?

Holding His Hand

2010-02-07T06:09:00.000-08:00

When I was five, I flew all by myself to Cincinnati to be with my grandparents for Spring Break. It was one of the most magical weeks of my childhood. That time, one on one with my grandparents was a wonderful fanciful treat. I stayed in a room decorated just for me, we visited the zoo, I had my hair done at my grandmother's salon, they showered me with gifts and showed me off to friends. Every night, during cocktail hour, they let me use their foyer as a kind of stage where I performed selections from Annie and Fiddler on the Roof with great enthusiasm. If they were anything but enthralled, I never knew. I must have come back spoiled rotten, my poor parents.

When I was six, I wanted to play the flute. More than anything. My cousins, older beautiful, sophisticated fourth and fifth graders that they were, both played an instrument and I wanted to be just like them. My grandparents paid for the rental. My hands were tiny; too small to make the first crucial reach of the flute's keys. I wouldn't figure out breath support for another four years and got light headed every time I touched the thing. I quit.

When I was seven, I wanted to play the piano. My parents had purchased an antique full upright and I'd been tinkering on it, plunking out commercial jingles and Rogers and Hammerstein melodies by ear. I wanted lessons. My grandparents offered to pay the month or two they figured I would stick to it. I took private lessons until I was seventeen. They ended up paying for five years of private voice lessons too.

When I was 11, I got braces. I have a mouth like a bowling alley. Tiny, narrow jaw; great big horse teeth. I had two oral surgeries, countless extractions but after years of pain and inconvenience, I had a beautiful smile, financed by my grandparents.

When I was 19, I became a single mother. My first husband had walked out seven months earlier. My daughter and I had nothing. My grandparents were part of the network of people making sure she had a good start. Thanks to them, she had tiny pink sleepers, a lovely cozy cradle, a carseat, a swing.

When I was 31, Cowboy had been hospitalized and out of work a month. My cupboards were bare. I went to sleep one night knowing I had no means of feeding my children the next week. My grandfather's 5:00AM phone call woke me. He was worried for us and was sending grocery money.

I said goodbye to my grandmother the next spring. Actually, I never got the opportunity to say goodbye. I was too blocked to write and by the time I had the courage, she'd lost the ability to understand. I spoke at her wake and in a cracking voice, talked for all of her grandchildren about her propensity for fulfilling wishes and rewarding hard work. I still think of her and thank her in my dreams.

When I was 35, I introduced my children and husband to my grandfather. I looked forward to that moment for months and fussed about it almost as long. This man, opinionated and sometimes dysfunctional as he is, has been so many things to me and I owe him so much. I couldn't wait for my family to meet him and him to meet them. I wanted him to see what bright, intelligent children they are and to know that he influenced the way I raise them. To hear him say I was doing well was like the blessing of heaven.

When I was 36, I needed a surgery to save my life. Giving me the money as a gift would have been inappropriate. I needed to demonstrate I had the strength to walk the path I was setting. It was a very big investment; one I needed to make in myself. My grandfather offered to pay half only if I came up with the other half on my own. I wanted it and I found a way. My grandfather helped me save my life.

They are moving my grandfather to Hospice this week. At 96 the man who used to walk or swim at least two miles a day can no longer walk across a room. I wish I could carry him. The man who attended weekly concerts and treasured lively conversation has been devastated at the loss of his hearing; even the best hearing aid a poor substitute. I wish he could hear through my ears. His eyesight is fading, I wish he could see through mine. These are the quality of life issues, there are others, much more serious that are shortening his time. If I could give him more time in comfort, I would. Since I can't, I can only offer compassion and hope I get there in time to say goodbye.

I owe him so much that 'thank you' seems lame. There's so much I want to say that every thing I start seems insipid. He and Grandma talked about holding my hand when I was a baby. I guess, I'll start by holding his hand and hope the words come. If I can't tell him how I feel, at least I can say goodbye the same way I said hello.

Resolutions? Bah! The Leaves are Changing

2010-01-06T12:09:00.000-08:00

It's January 6Th. I'm guessing, and you're probably hoping that this is THE LAST New Year's Resolution Blog entry you'll read this year. I procrastinate, plus, I was really busy. Honest. The highlights from Christmas and New Years:

It was a joy for to see my brother, sister in law and tiny niece. BONUS! They took a gas stove that had been taking up space in our garage for almost five years. Win win. Oh and the bad weather only made a 6 hour drive down into a two day drive home for them (sorry, guys).

Christmas Dinner at the in laws was relaxed and stress free, for the most part. Lowlight: my daughter and Sargent David nearly skunked me at Cribbage. Hiighlight, watching Sargent David give Mistress Shanna a field sobriety test in their own kitchen while we all offered support and suggestions. Family bonding moment.

Cowboy and I attended a White Trash New Year's Bash where we won a prize for best couple's costume. Not particularly sure if that's a compliment.You be the judge:
I had to work New Year's Day but the highlight included getting to say "I know something you don't know! I am not left-handed, er, well actually, I sort of am!" while playing ping pong during a system issue. Yep, that's right, I am an ambidextrous ping pong paddler. HA!

This year, instead of resolving not to sin (or maybe too sin? now that sounds like fun), I am looking at my life in terms of trees. Some trees lose their leaves and start new ones from time to time, other trees-- evergreens, keep their 'leaves' all year.

There are habits I picked up and personality traits I treasure. These are my evergreens:

Placing a high priority on my nutrition and personal needs. I know how I got where I did, what it took to get back to where I am and what it takes to stay here.
Making time for the kids even when life gets busy
My love of learning. Anything. Anytime.
Date nights and downtime with Cowboy so we remember why we like each other
Willingness to teach others what I know for their development and my future delegation benefit

Habits I want to develop, I will think of as new leaves(examples):

Blogging more often and with more quality
Leaving work at work
Taking breaks and lunches at work

Finally, there are some leaves and branches I may want to prune:

My sedentary lifestyle is the one remaining habit of obesity that I haven't done enough to change. I want to move more to live more.
Newly acquired and hopefully short lived smoking habit. Nasty disgusting habit, it can go, thanks

My inability to let go. I want to let go of not being able to let go? Tough one. That might take a few
Here's to growth for those things I need, endurance for those things I want to keep and letting go of those I don't.

Bucka's Cocoa Log

2009-12-24T07:34:00.000-08:00

I've been talking about it for years. Wondrous, just sweet enough miracle out of my grandmother's kitchen. Maybe it was the way my mom and aunt sighed in reverence when it was presented, but Bucka's cocoa log has always seemed like pinnacle Christmas treat in my rather eccentric head. I searched every speciality bakery in Denver looking for its like, with delicious result but never quite finding its equal. Mom repeatedly told me making it isn't that hard, I could do it. I finally decided to make it the attempt. With help. I did my best to recruit my coworker Julia-- wondrous expert armature baker that she is. Julia had family obligations (two days before Christmas? imagine that!) so I was on my own.

As you know, my dad faxed me a copy of the recipe card which my grandmother clearly typed in a manual. Grandma, who we called Bucka for reasons nobody remembers left a whole box of incredible recipes from a time when nobody cared about carbs and the A1c didn't exist. Kinda hope nothing critical is lost under that particularly large black splotch on the second page.

As I shopped for the supplies yesterday, I kept hoping maybe Bucka's good spirit would stand at my shoulder as I mixed, whisked and folded, encouraging me. More likely, her real spirit would stand at my shoulder telling me "you know what's the matter with YOU?" That was really more her style. Let's face it, the lady didn't really get pleasant until her dementia was so bad she couldn't remember who we were. But.. I digress.

Yesterday, after the three lasagnas were put bed, I ran out of excuses and knuckled down.

Separate eggs? Ooooh dear. I use Egg Beaters, for Pete's sake. After one failure, I managed to separate all five. Beat whites into stiff peaks? I live in Colorado, high altitude and stiff egg whites don't mix. The only stiff peaks here have ski runs on them (oh STOP, get your minds out of the gutter!). I bravely pressed on. Kitchen Aid on high and whaddya know? Peaks are stiff!

Wait, what? Grease a pan, press wax paper into it and grease the wax paper? This seems excessive. Surely Pam will do, right? My 'this seems like enough' cooking/baking attitude kicked in.

Soon, I had a beautiful beige bowl of fluffy stuff ready to spread on the wax paper. Popped into the oven, fifteen nervous minutes and two phone calls to my mom and.....!

Fail.

The directions said to turn the cake out onto a towel sprinkled with powdered sugar. 1) The cake wasn't fully cooked (as I should have noticed from the absence of browned edges) and 2) I tried to actually turn the unsupported pan over, like a jackass. A gooey chocolaty mess slid, sort of 'glopped' out onto the towel. Cheryl declared it a delicious gooey mess but you can't spread fudge frosting on a gooey... oh whatever! I started over.

More separating, peaking and folding. Beautiful beigy fluffiness ready for the pan. The properly prepared pan. I took no chances: GREASE, not Pam! After more consultation with mom, I cut a piece of cardboard, covered it with a towel, sprinkled that with powered sugar annnnnd! Successful flipping! Nervous but successful rolling followed, whipping the cream, more rolling and finally...

Bucka's Fudge Butter cream Frosting

Personally, if there were no other foods but this stuff, that'd be ok. Amanda says that instead of a wedding cake, she wants a cake made entirely of Bucka's Fudge Butter cream Frosting. Three tiers, please. It's orgasmic, seriously. If you're sitting on your couch eating Betty Crocker frosting from the tub, shame on you. Not because you're eating frosting, because you're eating crap frosting. This is a ridiculously easy recipe; I'm embarrassed to have used packaged frosting up to now. For the size of cake, it spreads a little thin so just to be careful (and to account for the mysterious disappearance of at least half the first batch, possibly related to all the fingers being sucked in my household), I made two batches.

I'm a great cook, but my presentation generally needs a little something (read as, my food is often ugly but delightful). I knew -- I hope-- that you'd want a picture anyway so.. TADAH! my rather messy but INCREDIBLY delicious Bucka's Cocoa Log

You know you want the recipe. What follows is as near a Bucka-to-English translation as I can manage. There are some things that don't come across easily. For instance, the recipe calls for a 'moderate' oven. No idea what the hell that means. Also, the word 'carefully'' is used A LOT when actually combining the cake ingredients so... yeah. Be careful.

Merry Christmas!

Bucka's Cocoa Log (Bunche Noel, Yule Log, Damn Awesome cake)

Cake:

5 eggs, separated
1 1/2 cups granulated sugar
2 tablespoons cocoa
3 tablespoons cake floor
1 teaspoon real vanilla
1 cup heavy whipping cream

Pre-heat 'moderate' oven to 375F. Grease a 10"x15" jelly roll pan. Line pan with wax paper, grease the wax. DO THIS, do not use Pam.

Mix sifted cocoa, flour and 1/4 cup sugar into a small bowl. Set aside.

In a small bowl, beat egg yolks until they are thick and lemon colored. Add vanilla and 1/4 cup sugar gradually. In a mixer bowl, using the whisk attachment, beat egg whites to stiff peaks. Beat one cup of sugar into egg white mixture. Fold egg yolk mixture carefully into white. Fold sifted cocoa, flour and sugar mixture gradually in with the other ingredients.

Spread cake mixture into jelly roll pan. Bake at 375 for 15 minutes or until the edges brown very lightly. (Christy's note: avoid the urge to check on the cake, even closing the oven door can cause this thing to fall)

Cut a piece of cardboard slightly larger than the jelly roll pan. Cover with a large tea towel. Sprinkle tea towel with powdered sugar.

Once the cake is out of the over, loosen the edges, then place towel covered cardboard sugar-side down on top of the pan, gently turn over. Cut off crisp edges, then roll cake up with the towel. Allow it to cool at least 30 - 45 minutes rolled up inside the towel.

While cake is cooling, in a chilled bowl, whisk whipped cream until frothy and make the frosting.

Fudge Butter cream Frosting

2 cups confectioner's sugar
1/3 cup cocoa
1/4 cup butter, softened
dash of salt
1 teaspoon vanilla
4 tablespoons light cream (you can use whipping cream from the cake ingredients if you like)

Cream softened butter and 1 cup sifted confectioner's sugar thoroughly. Sift remaining cup sugar, cocoa and dash of salt together. Work these ingredients into creamed mixture alternating with cream and vanilla. If frosting is too stiff to spread, you may add a small amount of cream.

Unroll cooled cake and gently spread cake with whipped cream. Lightly re roll and chill for 30 minutes. Transfer cooled cake to your platter, spread with fudge frosting. For authentic 'log look' it's best not to smooth the frosting. Tool marks are a good thing. If desired, garnish with chocolate candies, maraschino cherries or mint leaves. Keep well chilled and covered.

Serves 8

Barney is Part of My Christmas Culture

2009-12-22T14:32:00.000-08:00

We're all molded by our experiences and shaped by our environments. I'm not different. My parents became Jehovah's Witnesses when I was about eight and my brother was five. We stopped celebrating all the normal American holidays. We didn't just put the practices on hold, our house was purged of any items involved with Christmas, Easter, Halloween, etc.

Christmas mornings with my family are wonderful. We usually spend them with my husband's parents and his sister's family. In a beautifully decorated home, we share gifts, laughs and participate in their grand and not so grand traditions. I am very grateful to be included in their celebration.

Through no fault of Cowboy's family, I often feel like an outsider. Like an orphan invited out of kindness but never fully belonging. Though I cook and bake for the season and I know it's appreciated, I have often felt that I didn't really add anything to the festivities. There often seemed to be something held back, some parts that we all knew I couldn't fully appreciate because I wouldn't get it.

This year has been different. I've stopped moping. I gave myself a mental and spiritual smack to the back of the head. My family--Cowboy and my children and I-- have our own very rich, rather unique traditions. I realized I short-change us when I discount the little things we do. We don't make a big (expensive!) pilgrimage to Rockefeller Plaza. We fill our Netflix list with Christmas movies and watch them as a family. This year I had the privilege of introducing my 15 yr old son to Clark Griswold in National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation.

I've learned that very few people stick to a set traditional plan each and every year. The Gilmore Girls taught me that rigidly adhering to such a schedule can rob some of the joy and spontaneity from the holidays. Some years I bake dozens of types of cookies and candy. Some, I simply bake thousands of one type. Nobody ever complains when you hand them a cookie.

I finally understand that it doesn't matter how much or how little money a family has, the point is the time you spend, the laughs you share and the love you feel. The year I volunteered full time in a food-bank, working 40 hour weeks leading up to Christmas taught me that you don't have to speak the same language to be comrades. You don't have to worship the same way to help others.

I've learned that what's important to your family is what matters, not some grandiose idea someone constructed of what the holiday ought to be. If it's important to your children to watch the Barney Christmas special (even when they're 18 years old), then that's your tradition. It has as much value as anybody's stately procession to Midnight Mass.

As I've mentioned a couple times (to everyone who will listen, shouting on the street corner, bugging people on Face book, Tweeting ad nauseum), my brother Alex, sister in law Deena and niece Lorelai are coming for Christmas. I'm serving a completely non-traditional Christmas Eve meal of smoked ribs and lasagna. I have no set plans for the evening or the morning that follows; it's our first Christmas together in 29 years. Over planning might spoil it all. I intend to hug them, love them and enjoy every minute our families spend together.

I grew up. I started celebrating again. Every time we did something that seemed silly but turned out great, we added a thread to the fabric that makes up our family's traditions and culture. It's a fabric we've woven ourselves. The lives we've made from it fit just right.

Happiness Is... (and some stuff that drives me crazy)

2009-12-22T13:57:00.001-08:00

Lots of things make me happy but some things also drive me crazy. I think this calls for two bullet pointed lists, don't you?

First: Things that make me crazy:

It drives me crazy when I wake up at 5:48AM on the first day of my vacation. Retro was happy about it, though. It was all his fault anyway; he pushed me off the bed. How does an 18lb dog take up an entire king sized bed?
It drives me crazy that I cannot shut down my work-brain while on said vacation (and use that energy to think up great blog topics).
It drives me crazy when my children ask me if they can do things they aren't supposed to do at moments when I'm distracted. They then blink those big innocent blue eyes which I mistakenly gave to them in my genetic material and protest 'but you SAID I could, Mama!' Sneaky sneaky little children.
It drives me crazy that my To Do list never diminishes (I also love this, look for it later)
It drives me crazy when I am completely unable to think of good blog topics which causes me post bullet pointed lists instead (and the occasional Princess Bride reference) just to keep you reading
It drives me crazy when three hapless circus folk kidnap me while I'm out on my ride and drag me to the Gildor Frontier, OH and when my fiance tries to murder me on our wedding night. (see? You're still reading, aren't you?)
It drives me crazy when I procrastinate. I should work on that. Later.

Whew! I feel better.

Things that make me happy:

Bullet points in blog posts
Fuzzy (any shade) pink heart print pajamas
The crew at MY Starbucks who know exactly how much to put in my Shot in the Dark with lots of room
Wearing my pink heart-print fuzzy pajamas into Starbucks with my Cowboy. We've started making a run together before he leaves for work on my days off (the days I actually take off). Oh and the fact that they don't even blink when I do this
Inside Jokes that aren't that inside
Being an important part of an organization at work and a family at home
A To Do list that never diminishes
Deadlines (I do not stay focused without them)
Sometimes ignoring my deadlines
Sweaters
Singing Christmas carols unnecessarily loud in my car
Great sex!
Gilmore Girls Season 4
My grandmother's recipe for Cocoa Log (Bunche Noel for you, Julia!). My parents faxed me a copy of the recipe which looks very much like it was typed on a manual type writer. It makes me think that my grandmother may have typed it up. Even though it's a faxed copy, it makes me feel a little closer to her and this time of year, that's a good thing.
The thought of my brother and his family coming for Christmas, maybe the start of a new Christmas tradition?
The thought of the lasagna AND smoked ribs we're serving for Christmas Eve dinner (which I will be eating with my brother and his family)
Listening to my children describe their favorite Christmas rituals, none of which involve spending money.
Cheryl wiggling on the couch next to me even though I've asked her to stop about five times. This also drives me crazy. There's one sure-fire way to fix it.

I must go.. she needs to be tickled. A lot.

Writer's Mountain

2009-12-22T05:57:00.001-08:00

There will be no blog post this morning because the only thing I can think about to write is my inability to write. Annoyingly unoriginal.

Look for a list of things making me happy soon.

Christmas Newsletter

2009-12-18T06:56:00.000-08:00

I am a schlub.

Seriously, not only do I not send Christmas cards, there's no freakin' way I have the energy to write and to send a Christmas Newsletter. But I do have to say, these newsletters make me feel even more schlubby than usual. Not only do I not send Christmas cards, I also didn't design and create my daughter's prom dresses, Cowboy didn't run a marathon and none of my children graduated from the MIT/Harvard/Yale/Stanford Prepartory school two years early as the valedictorian.

Sometimes the evil snarky part of me wishes for the newsletters with the truth of things like, the reason hubby had the time to train for a marathon is that he's been out of work for year. The aftermath of the child pushed to graduate early with honors is a self centered, ulcer ridden ego maniac and $1,450,000 in school loans. Those custom designed and created prom dresses cost 5x as much as any ever purchased at Macy's.

I was going to write the 'real' Christmas newsletter and thought myself very clever until I realized that's been blogged to death. Call me unoriginal. Then I thought of writing Christmas Newsletters for various famous movies, mostly John Hughes films. Also unoriginal. Newsletters from my pets? Yawn. Argh.

I give. Here it is. The McClurg Family Newsletter, good and not so good.

(standard opening)
It's been a busy year here in the McClurg household!

This year Amanda's teeth paid for us to go to Las Vegas tax free. Flexible Spending reimbursement, yay! Cowboy and I had a wonderful time with my friend Aimee and her boyfriend. We'd give you details but some of them are too risque even for the Internet!

I went through four complete wardrobes, spending probably 20% of our income as I whipped through several sizes. I have extra skin enough to donate for 10,000 grafts OR go as a "flying squirrel" to Halloween next year without buying a costume. I have also embarked on a new project at work which is unpaid and unsung. Actually, it's sort of sung. I'd been doing the job illicitly for a year. Now at least I can call myself 'legit.' But I won't call myself 'legit' because my children use that word with annoying inaccuracy. "I do not think it means what you think it means.' Like all things career driven, if I do this unpaid job for a year, I may be able to apply for the paid position for real.

We now have three children in high school, which is almost unimaginably expensive. On the upside: nobody's gotten killed, pregnant or arrested, which doesn't seem like such a big deal until you turn on the evening news.

This spring, Cowboy won a competition naming him Go Automotive Network's top Technician in Colorado. He's looking forward to competing again early next year and hopes to compete in Go's first-ever National event. Never fear, we found a use for the 50" LCD TV prize, even though we had purchased it's twin a month before. We all knew he was a superstar. Finally, some recognition for it!

Cheryl had two most boring (awesome) Parent Teacher conferences ever because she's a stellar second grader ever. Also a plus, we found out that she isn't hard of hearing. We'd been afraid that she might have hearing problems because at home she yells. A lot. Turns out she uses a perfectly normal, acceptable voice at school. She yells at home because our house is loud. Period.

Patrick was voted Class President for the third year in a row. Though he doesn't think his classmates like him, I have a feeling the votes indicate otherwise. The votes also confirm what I've known for years; this kid has charisma.

My brother, his wife and my darling niece are coming to share Christmas with us. Their arrival on Thursday will herald the first time he and I have celebrated Christmas together in 29 years. You read that absolutely right. To mark this momentous occasion, if I am brave enough (am I brave enough?) I plan to recreate my grandmother's famous Yule Log. I'm terrified. I don't follow baking directions. I follow the "that looks like enough" school of cooking. 'Nuff said.

To sum up: this year was filled with joy, fear, tears, hugs, giggles, private jokes, cuddles, fights, folly and triumph. Can't wait to do it all again.

Of Accountability and Weight Loss

2009-01-22T06:28:00.000-08:00

One of the things that happens when you lose a lot of weight fast is that people think you are 1) judging them, their weight or their eating habits, 2) a great weight loss coach or 3) stuck on yourself.

I've lost 100lbs in a year. A hundred. Pounds. That's a lot of weight, really fast. People notice.

I can't do much about number three. When you look better, you feel better so you carry yourself with a little more pride and you dress better. Actually, I was more stuck on myself when I was fat: I was the hottest fat chick in the room, damnit. Anymore, I kinda feel like just a so-so medium sized chick. If people won't try talking to me to see whether or not I'm a snot, sadly, I can't help change the perception.

The first two are a different thing entirely. People I barely know feel that they have to justify what they're eating for lunch just because I happen to stop by their table to say hello. It's none of my business and I'm really not judging. Who am I to do so?

I'm not a great weight loss coach either. What I am is someone who is going through something big and who has made lots of mistakes on the way to AND from. I might have some perspective for you but serious people need serious help. Doctors, therapists and Weight Watchers are probably better bets for coaching than me. Even so, there are several people who IM me at work, email or ask for my phone number.

I had a long conversation yesterday with a lady about what she's doing to try to lose weight. She wants it very much and on the surface, she claims to be 'trying' to make good choices. Unfortunately, everything in her life is someone elses fault. She ate pizza because that's what the kids wanted, her husband forced her to have McDonald's at the mall food court with him. She couldn't say no to the donuts her boss brought to work because that would have been rude, so she had three.

THIS POOR WOMAN!!! She must live in a gulag. Her children must keep her imprisoned in a cage with a small slash in the door just tall enough to permit a slice of pizza to be shoved through. Her only recreation was a trip to the mall with Warden Husband, shackled to his side with no choice but to eat what he's eating. Even worse, when she shows up here to work, her supervisor pries open her jaws, using a medieval torture device and shoves in DONUTS!

Let's come back to reality here: this is a suburban middle class working woman, very much like me. She lives in a suburban neighborhood very much like mine, with lots of access to good restaurants and health food and grocery stores, even some specialty markets. While her family might choose to eat those things, there's no good reason she could not find something more appropriate to her weight loss goals to eat herself.

I don't know her very well, so I tempered my response, but bottom line, tough love answer: this isn't everybody elses fault. You are not fat because people forced you to eat the wrong things. You, like me, have access to and the ability to obtain healthy, appropriate food choices.

Does that mean I might have to cook 2 dinners sometimes? Yes (but that is why you teach your children to cook).

Does it mean I can no longer purchase junk food? It means I no longer purchase junk food that I like. I purchase crap I hate but other people like all the time. I don't eat crap I hate, so it works.

Does it mean I might have to buy special food, just for me? Yes. Think of it as spoiling yourself; go for things you've always wanted to try but never had the courage before.

Does it mean that I eat things that don't taste good? NEVER! I do not eat things I don't like. Period. If you are going to eat small portions and things that are good for you, make them the best tasting small portions of healthy foods you can find.

Does it mean I might have to say no to things I like? Yes, but how much do you want this? As long as you want smaller pant sizes more than you want french fries, you can do it. As long as you want to be free of diabetes more than you want that piece of cake, you can do it.

Some days the french fries are more important and some days you want chocolate cake more than anything else in the world. Those days are not the end. On those days, that's what you want. If that's what you want, eat it. Eat it and then move on. As my friend Janice Taylor says "All is forgiven; move on." As long as your overall goal doesn't change, you can have those days and still remember what you really and truly want. You can still have what you truly want because you will still work for it.

My weight loss has never ever been easy and I don't have all the answers. I lost 1/3 my body weight on Phen Phen and put 2/3 back on. I drank a Slim Fast Shake for Breakfast, another for Lunch and EVERYTYHING IN THE FRIDGE for afternoon snack.

My weight got so out of hand and my resulting health problems so bad, that surgery was the best option for me. However, after a long time and a lot of therapy, I know that the things that led up to it were driven much more by my choices than by unseen forces shoving food down my gullet. I spent years in denial, thinking I could hide under food: hide from men, hide from tough choices, hide from food that doesn't taste as good as french fries.

As long as I continued to hide and deny, to blame everybody and everything but my own actions, then my weight continued to go up. Even before surgery, the day I took charge and took responsibility was the day I knew I was in control. A figurative weight was lifted from me: my shackles fell off, the bars to my cage flew open. Knowing that this is my choice is liberating: nobody can force me to do anything. I am in control of my destiny, I can set my own goals.

Surgery is helping me attain my goal. Helping. My weight was so high that I felt it was the best option to rapidly change myself. However, surgery is only a tool, surgery can't make good choices for me. At the end of the day, I. Am. Doing. This.

Most of us do not live in a gulag, most of us have access to a plethora of food choices. Before any of us can take the step and lose the weight permanently, we have to decide that we are making the choice. I am. Myself. Making this choice. For Me.

If you are thinking about losing weight, if you are already trying to make lifestyle changes, you must hear this. Therapists will say it, Weight Watchers will say it and if you ask me, I'm going to say it too. We all know what we're talking about. Weight loss begins and ends with you. Only you can make the right choices for you. If you fail, you are the only one to blame, true. Don't think about failing. Do not allow yourself that intention.

Intend to succeed and you will. Think about this instead: WHEN you succeed, when you take responsibility and you are accountable, YOU get all the credit.

Happy Thoughts Bullet Points

2009-01-02T16:27:00.000-08:00

Little.. and big things that make me happy:

A new president
My weight loss; I've lost 97lbs from my lifetime high of 307.
Renewed romance with my Cowboy
Energy for fun activities with my Cowboy
My kids
My dogs
Sushi
New Year's Day sales
Lego Batman
Buying something 5 sizes smaller than last year
Friends. Plural.
A social life!
Used CDs and paperback books on Half.Com
Flannel sheets and a super fuzzy warm blanket
Smudge Pots by Stila: eyeliner that stays put. Forever
Flannel Jammies (though I've almost caused an electrical storm simply rolling over under the sheets)
Cherry Pomegranate Crystal Light
New surround sound/dvd/stereo system with an iPod dock
A totally cool Mini to carpool in
A totally awesome carpool buddy (owner of the Mini)
Coworkers I actually like
My job (most of the time)
Sexy underwear (leading to)
Really great sex
Pink nail polish
Freshly brewed coffee
Sleeping in
Staying up late
Facebook
Firefly on DVD

Happiness is..

2008-08-16T17:10:00.000-07:00

see Obama pictures

Things making me happy today.

Grocery shopping without needing to use an electric cart or oxygen
Guiltless Pasta-Free Lasagna recipe I created for dinner that turned out totally YUM!
Looking at 1/2 cup of said Lasagna, thinking it won't be enough. Twenty minutes (and 20 bites later) being completely satisfied with just that much
Seasons 1 - 6 of X Files on DVD
Seasons 1 - 3 of Angel on DVD
Peanut butter toast (and being satisfied with only half a slice)
More energy, wait, I mentioned that, sort of, but it gets another mention
Teen aged children who talk to me and who sometimes listen when I talk to them
A happy healthy hubby
Great naps
Great sex
My new Sprint Wireless Internet card that came the day after I ordered it and is almost as fast as cable or a corporate LAN
The kind of relationship with my mom where we can really REALLY talk
A visit from Cara last week that's still making me feel good this week
Really great emails and phone calls from friends and coworkers
Meeting a 'old friend' face to face for the first time and finding that we click just as well in person as we did in cyberland
Being who I am today.
Being where I am today.

Updates

2008-08-15T11:02:00.000-07:00

I tweaked a few things on the blog: updating my picture and my iPod Top 25. Interesting how much your music taste changes in the course of a year. Only two songs are still on the list from the first time I posted it.

It Was the Best of Times... It Was the Worst of Times..

2008-08-15T06:15:00.000-07:00

Back to school.

I am enjoying my last two weeks recovery at home in peace and quiet. Beginning at 6:15 and ending at 7:30AM, my children trickle out the door, headed to their institutions of learning. I drag covers off, I push breakfast, I brush hair, I approve, or disapprove outfits, I ponder the meaning of 'rhetorical reasoning,' with confused teenagers. During the day, I can nap, I can talk on the phone, I can eat without exclamations of "ew!" or "can I have some?"

The downside: we've shelled out over $1,000 in the last two weeks. First, of course, is the published school supplies list, then shoes, clothes, etc. School supply list: it sounds so simple.. don't be fooled! Each year there must be at least one item on the published school supplies list that is next to impossible to find. In print it will seem so simple, listed as "red felt tip fine point marker, blood red only." Once you're on the hunt though, you realize this item might actually exist only the imagination of the teacher. To obtain this item you may be forced to drive 100 miles, trade a kidney or meet a dark stranger in an even darker alley. This is nothing compared to what happens next.

You've obtained that final, mythical pen or composition notebook. You've lovingly packed each backpack with exactly what each supply list detailed. You've purchased enough Kleenex, band aids and hand sanitizer to open your own hospital in a 3rd world country. You sleep the sleep of one content that she has accomplished the impossible; properly equipping five children, 1st grade to high school with all they need for school. One short day later, your peace is shattered.

One by one, your children walk through the door from their first day of school with looks of consternation and suspiciously 'listish' looking pieces of paper clutched in their hands. It is the 'secret/surprise' school supplies list, the one that teachers save until AFTER you've already purchased $500 in supplies the teachers said they needed! This list details exactly how much money you wasted as item after item you lovingly pursued and purchased is chucked in a box because "the teacher wants us to have a different one, Mom. I have to have it by tomorrow, Mom. Or else."

I swear, it's a conspiracy!

The secret school supplies list can ONLY be released after you've spent every penny you have on the things the school and teacher originally said they needed. The secret school supplies list MUST be purchased no later than the 2nd day of school or your innocent children will be locked in a dungeon and flogged with last year's moldy textbooks. The secret school supplies list contains items even MORE expensive and exotic than the published school supplies list. You and every other parent in your district wander, dazed, confused and downtrodden down the same aisles and byways you thought not to see for another year. You sell a kidney to obtain the graphing calculator, mortgage your home for those particular markers. Bloodied and bruised, you return home with the items which are taken off to school without a further comment. At last though, it's done. No more notes come home demanding obscure and outrageously expensive items never before necessary in any school setting.

You're done hunting, done spending...

Until Homecoming.

The Big Show...and now?

2008-08-03T14:51:00.000-07:00

July 22nd!! Can I say my rebirth day? I think I can, in some ways. I actually slept the night before the surgery. We stayed up until 11 to get me one last protein drink and 32oz of water since my surgery wasn't scheduled until 3:15. They wanted me at the hospital by 1:15.

11:00AM the nurse and asked if we could head in sooner; Dr Chae was ahead of schedule! I was ready to go right that second but she told us to leave at 11:30. Would have worked out great if I hadn't forgotten my photo ID and insurance only to remember it about 10 minutes away from the house. Survived Homer-on-Bart style strangling from Cowboy as we turned around to get it. Amanda accompanied us; she and Cowboy would go to Family Night while I was in surgery.
12:00PM check in to the hospital, weigh in; liquid diet has sucked 5 pounds off my in three days. Heck with surgery, maybe I'll just.....nah..never mind.
12:20 inform surgical prep nurse that I am a 'very difficult stick,' she scoffs, as do they all.
12:35 surgical prep nurse apologizes to me and admits that yes, I am actually a very difficult stick. I have three pokes for one IV line. Not so bad; my all time record was 14 for 2 lines.
1:00PM Cowboy and Amanda come to sit with me a few minutes; Dr Chae stops by and is very efficient confident and business like. He promises to call Cowboy personally as soon as I'm out of surgery. Anethesiologist stops by, same drill.
1:30PM I'm wheeled into the operating room where the technicians, anesthesiologist and I begin discussing Masterpiece theater...
4:30PM Dr Chae phones Cowboy to say I am in the recovery room and doing just fine. I'm fading in and out but recal the recovery room nurses being gentle and kind, especially when the press that blessed PCA unit into my hand to administer the blessed blessed morphine.
6:00PM Cowboy and Amanda come to my room to give me love and congratulate me but I'm still in and out and feel like I'm smothering; they turn up my oxgen. I think my sister in law tries to call but I can't talk to anyone; the nurse takes the phone off the hook.

I spent four days in the hospital, learning to manage my pain, trying to clear my lungs with that stupid repirizer. The staff were wonderful and attentive; just tough enough to keep me from being lazy but kind enough to let me rest when I needed.

Accomplishments:

Standing up and walking just a bit the same night as the surgery
Touring around the nurses' desk everyday,
Taking a shower, going to the bathroom without help and not throwing up once.

Sugar Free Jello tasted disgustingly sweet; I live on 2 tablespoons of broth 3 times a day but I wasn't hungry so it wasn't hard.

Cowboy brought me home from the hospital July 26th, driving as if I was made of spun glass (good because every bump kills me). He was up four times with me that night; I don't think he slept at all the first three days I was home.

I came home on oxygen because my resting pulse ox was barely acceptable and the minute I got up to move it plunged into "so not acceptable' numbers. I have a big machine that generates oxygen out of the atmosphere for home time and a portable machine with a back up tank for when I leave the house.

Amanda took on the role of dietician, nurse, CNA, hair washer and baby sitter. She now makes a mean protein shake and can figure up the calories and protein consumption for one day in less than 10 minutes. All the kids pitch in to help where they can; as the oldest, she's been absolutely priceless.

I make short journeys to the corner or down the street and back twice a day.
I have an external drain removed one week post op, the doc thinks I've lost at least three pounds since the surgery, tells me to take it easy but I don't have use oxygen when I'm just sitting now.
I think I'm losing between one half and 2 pounds per day right now. I know this sounds dangerous but after the procedure I've just had; it's normal. I take between 200 and 400 calories only on any given day.

My body is not hungry. Everything is swollen and the nerve endings in the new pouch are damaged; I can't feel hunger. However, I can think hunger. At first, thoughts of cheeseburgers, chicken or french fries just flit through my conciousness like weird dreams. The second I concentrate on them, my stomach burbles and I realize what a bad idea they would be. These thoughts are more frequent now, though, and a bit harder to deal with. I ran errands with Cowboy today (yay, out of the house for 2 hours, no breaks, in and out of the car and walking around) but had to flat refuse to go inside the pizza place to wait for his calzone with him. The idea was torture.

I would not say I am in mourning; I know I will have these things again, in small amounts. I would say though, that three weeks on liquids has gotten a bit old and the old noggin would really like some solid food to gnaw on. Good thing I only have a week to go before I go to soft foods; I'm planning chicken stew for the first night. Mmmmmm!

The Pre-Show and Red Carpet

2008-08-03T14:11:00.000-07:00

I told you I'd try to come back but didn't make any promises. But am I glad I didn't; as you can see, never made it back. Here's what's gone down since we talked:

The week of July 13-19 contained three post op appointments and various sticks, pricks, prods and pokes. No issues though; I was cleared for surgery.
July 19 started on a clear liquid diet. Clear liquids means Sugar Free Jello, Crystal Light, SF Popsicles as much broth as you can drink (ask Dave Barry about broth and it's many attributes) and clear protein drinks or shots. Yep. That's it.
July 19th also happened to be the day of the company 'picnic' at the zoo. I put picnic in quotation marks because the company did not provide any actual FOOD for the occasion so I don't think it counts as a real picnic. No food at the zoo was OK in one aspect; no temptation. Bad in another; disappointed (and whiney) fam. Me? I'd prepared; I had two Isopure clear protein drinks and one protein 'bullet' (27grams of protein in 3.1oz of cough syrupy liquid). We arrived at 10:30AM. By 1:00PM the fam started eyeing my vittles. Figured it was time to go.
July 20th Cowboy and I drove to Wheatland to retrieve my oldest child; it's an all day trip basically. I prepared my little cooler of acceptable goodies. I'll say this: the clear protein drinks taste a little weird but they are very filling. If you are honest with yourself and can get past the 'head hunger' they'll keep you satisfied. They won't keep you from the urge to strangle your husband and oldest child as they chow down on Wendy's double cheeseburgers and large fries while the smell nearly kills you. Ok, I know they had to eat but it would have been great if they could have chosen that day to eat, oh, I don't know, fried scorpion or something.
July 21st was my last full day of work and I'm glad I went. I let the team know I wasn't shirking and my team in return, gave me tons of love and support. Clear liquids beginning to wear but then by midnight, I can't have ANYTHING so clear liquids should seem like a feast, huh? Yep.
July 22nd.... the day, I wonder if I'll even be able to sleep.

I Have a Date...Wait, What?!?!?

2008-07-13T05:20:00.000-07:00

see more dog pictures

I had what was to be the first pre-surgery meeting with my Weight Management Specialist this week, post class. I was feeling less than successful too; Bill had a bad 'head' weekend last week, which resulted in being stuck in the house with a man with mixed mania/depressive episodes (think.... trampoline without any fun...boing..boing...boing). We were broke, so I wasn't able to stock up on 'OK for me' snacks for this time. The result was a lot of snacking and a couple pounds sneaking back. I hadn't quite finished flogging myself by the time I got to the group meeting.

We were expecting only our WMS to be present for the weigh in and check up on our progress. This meeting is a crucial step in the process to getting a date. We had to have 2 days' menu prepared for each of the three stages after surgery. We also had to have a good plan for fighting dehydration; the number one biggest cause of hospitalization and complication after surgery.

Mike, our WMS was there but Shannon, the program coordinator, was present as well. They told us they were splitting up the class because it was so large. Half of us went with Shannon, half stayed with Mike.

It turns out that I was in a group who had been determined as ready for surgery NOW and, against normal procedure, Shannon was ready to schedule us that day. She had cancellations and needed to fill them asap. I am so grateful to the other people in my group; they very graciously let me have the date I have.

Just so you're all aware, there's a higher power, there's a magic at work here. Repeatedly in my meditations, as I thought about, intended for my surgery to happen on the best possible day... one date appeared in my head. Hovering in my thoughts of the 'best possible' as far back as May; this date... is THE DATE she just so happened to have available.

July 22nd. *waits for it... first you'll say GREAT....then a couple seconds later you'll get a look on your face and say 'wait, what?!?!?! That soon?' I know this because that's what EVERYBODY who hears it does. Everybody except Bill but he doesn't count because he's insane anyway.

Yes, that soon. The Tuesday after next. I have 18 gozillian things to get done between now and then.

I feel pretty good about where I am in preparation where work is concerned: my FMLA and short term disability paperwork is done, my leave time is arranged and I have begun preparing my team to take over for me while I'm gone.

Home is another matter all together.

I woke up at 5:30AM today with the realization of just how much food is in this house that I'll have to get the kids to eat or something. It's stuff I buy for me now that I won't be able to eat for a few months (fresh fruit, fresh veggies, some low fat cheese etc). They'll be thrilled; they're always trying to sneak away with it anyway, which is maddening since most of the time they have something way better (and bad for you) available instead. I go on clear liquids for surgery prep next Saturday and won't get back to even 'mushy' foods for at least a month.

I wanted to bring someone in to do a top-to-bottom house-cleaning but now I think I won't be able to afford (or schedule) it beforehand. Guess we'll all be scrubbadubbing up until the date. Amanda is visiting her father in Gillette (and having a great time, I hear) but she'll need to be retrieved before the date. The original pick up date had to be rescheduled because now my pre-op appointment is on that day.

I need to pick up a bunch of tiny dishes and tupperware type items. The best way to make sure you don't overeat is to serve yourself the right size portions in the right size containers. Besides, it saves a LOT of wasted food when all you eat is a half (or less sometimes). We were waiting until we had a date to get them. Now we have the date but not the time we expected to prepare.

Finally, I have tried not to treat this time as a Feast of Defiance; eating everything I know I won't be able to have for a long time. I will someday be able to have those things again, in very very small doses, but I will have them. On the other hand, I have planned a treat or two into every week including a lot of these things. With the date so close, though... Well.. you tell me:

Do you think I can get Pizza, Wings, Cheesecake, Ice Cream, Death by Chocolate, Fried Rice, Sesame Chicken, Bagels with lox (and a TON of cream cheese), Cheese Fondue, Chimichanga and Corndogs into one week and still meet my 30 Weight Watchers points per day goal? Yeah. I didn't think so either. Oh well. I did plan a donut into Friday, and it was great!

It's SO SOON!! I'd stay to chat but, like I said, 18 gozillian things to do. I gotta go. BTW, I just found a new purpose for my photoblog. D'uh, what'dyou think?

I'll try to get time to blog before The Date but can't make promises. Wish me luck, please!

What's it worth to ya?

2008-07-01T15:16:00.000-07:00

see more dog pictures

That's what it really comes down to, you know. What's worth more to you: the food or something else. I'm getting really good at making this decision.

Some days, the birthday cake is worth it. Some days shopping in a store that doesn't sell plus sizes is worth a lot more and the birthday cake. Of course, there are days when I know there's going to be cake, I make the choice to put it into my plan and I have it without guilt.

Is it working? I lost 7 lbs this week. You tell me.

BTW, looking for a fabulous, guilt-free super yum desert? Mix 1/2 cup fresh fruit (berries are my favorite) with 1 Jello Sugar Free pudding pack and 2 tablespoons Cool-Whip free. For even greater delight; freeze for one hour then eat.

Warning: this dessert can result in extreme food-gasms!

WTF??? and other moments

2008-06-19T11:07:00.000-07:00

more cat pictures

All that navel gazing yesterday was really in preparation for class, where I truly expected to get on the scale and find I had gained a pound or two. I felt like I had a Black Hole Weekend: this happens when your gravitational pull becomes so great that you eat everything that crosses your event horizon.

You can imagine my surprise when I stepped on the scale to find out that I lost 3.2lbs. Imagine my surprise, yep. Probably not imagine the tears afterward. Not tears of Joy.. tears of WTF-ness because... well... WTF? I'm supposed to be learning to anticipate how my weight will have changed over the week and I could have sworn that I'd BLOWN it completely this weekend.

I sat last night and thought about it and.. .well.. I didn't really eat THAT much over the weekend and I did really well the rest of the week. But still. I'm supposed to be tuning into my psychic powers and stuff... and I can't even anticipate my weight? Fine witch I'm turning out to be!

If the witch reference isn't enough to warn you off.... WARNING! Blasphemous (depending on your point of view) material follows.

On a lighter note, out of the mouths of babes:

You know those stop lights with a residential street crossing onto a major thoroughfare, the ones that take forever to change for the person waiting on the residential street? There I sat yesterday, waiting to turn left. I looked to my right and noticed a crosswalk button. Hmmmmmm

"Shelley! Jump out and press the cross light button, it'll make the light turn!"

"Oh no, Mama, just wait a second. It'll go right...... now!"

DING! The light turns green.

From the back of the 'Burb:
"MOM! Shelley-Sue is Jesus!"

Climb that Mountain; Ditch the Donuts

2008-06-18T13:31:00.000-07:00

see more dog pictures

Sometimes the people who are trying to be the nicest to you are the ones who hold us back most.

In my classes, we are supposed to identify our saboteurs; I'm sad to say that Cowboy is one and most of my coworkers are as well. They all love me, I know, but Cowboy says helpful things like "it's OK honey, you just can't lose weight like other people". He was shocked and confused when I practically clawed his eyes out for saying it. When I calmed down, I had to explain that the support I need from him most is to remind me that I can lose weight like everybody else: by eating less and moving more. The surgery will help me do the one for a while, it's true, but in the end, I have to work at this every day for the rest of my life.

My coworkers know how hard I'm working on eating right and preparing for the surgery but sometimes they still bring in donuts, cakes and cookies, sometimes with the reasoning that I should enjoy them now, while I still can. I'm determined not to mourn that way for food. I will NOT put on weight before this surgery. When my day comes, I will already be eating the way (if not the amounts) that I will be for the rest of my life. I know that after a year or so, I'll be able to have small amounts of sugar without getting sick. I've made up my mind to get used to that now, not wait for the surgery to force me to give them up.

I know that people who lose large amounts of weight, with or without surgery, plan most of their meals and spend a lot of time and energy making sure they have the right food available. I'm doing the same; packing lunches, planning ahead, grocery shopping for myself almost separately from the rest of the family.

It's working too... most of the time...

Sunday I did really well, saying no to cake and ice cream at my nephew's birthday party. Unfortunately, I went so long between meals that I was starving by the time we got home and overate that night. I probably saved some calories skipping the sweets but would have served myself better to have taken a filling, sugar-free treat to the party so I wouldn't be ravenous later.

Yesterday, some sweet but misguided people on my team were trying to talk me into eating a donut. I was laughing but I was serious about saying no. They eventually placed an entire box, open, on my desk in front of me. I could have cried from frustration. I know they mean well but I make a food plan every day and yesterday donuts weren't on that plan. It was exhausting sticking to my plan but I did it.

On the other hand, I did not walk last night.

I used up all my energy resisting Dunkin Donuts!

Story of my life?

2008-06-06T05:35:00.001-07:00

more cat pictures

As part of my preparation for this surgery, I take a weekly class. We work on many of the skills and learn information we'll need in order to be successful. You can't just let them cut your tummy apart, give you a pouch the size of a golf ball and think all your problems will be solved. Many are just beginning.

We have homework every week. This week, we have to write out our story, specifically, our history with food and weight issues, what things we think affect our weight, our perceptions about weight loss and what it takes for us to actually take off the pounds. I love writing, even though I don't do it often enough here. I'm enjoying the project but doubt they counted on someone as verbose as I am. I'm guessing we won't show what's in our story to anyone; which is good. It's not a novel like to win any prizes but it's turning into a novel. What's come out of it so far has been interesting, though.

A few things I hadn't thought about until now:

My background is hugely food-centric. My dad has a Masters in Hotel, Restaurant and Institutional Management and worked in the food service industry the whole time I was growing up. He even helped me apply for my first three jobs, all of them in the food service industry. I'm not saying this was a bad thing; it wasn't. I'm just saying food has been part of my life, not just as a means of survival but as a means of attaining the means of survival, for as long as I remember.
I've been binge eating since I was 13 or 14. I never thought of it that way, but there's not really any other way to explain a 95lb, 4' 11" girl eating a fully loaded double cheeseburger, large onion rings and Pepsi the size of a hot tub.
I've used food as a means of taking control of my life. and rebelling against... everything. When I ordered that double cheeseburger during lunch at school, I was making my own decision; my mom couldn't tell me no. When I bought candy and junk food with my first paychecks and then hid them in my room, I was controlling my life in a small way. I was a rebellious kid but I never snuck out, I never did drugs or drank. I ate instead. I never thought about it, but my unconscious decision's worked out as well for me as theirs did for many of my classmates who chose less legal, more drastic options.

I said two years ago I was on a journey to smaller pant sizes (and beyond). I still am; I may have gotten detoured but I think I'm back on track at last.

Surprise. I'm back. And other surprises.

2008-05-28T07:35:00.001-07:00

I am having gastric bypass surgery at the end of the summer. Surprise!

Nearly ten years ago, I started thinking about this option. I knew people who had it and did very well, some not so well. I noticed surgery wasn't a cure for addiction issues, emotional problems or low self-esteem. I sympathized with the what appeared to be incredibly difficult (and sometimes disgusting) side effects of a stomach (or pouch) the size of a golf ball. Sometimes I agonized with them while they struggled with the same dragons they'd been fighting all their lives.

Obviously, this decision wasn't a cure all. People I knew who were.. well, damaged going in, remained damaged on the other side. Damaged with a pouch instead of a stomach and maybe a smaller ass but still damaged. Someone I know who was an addict before is an addict still, still goes in and out of rehab on a regular basis. He's just an addict with a smaller pant size.

I spent years reading websites like ObesityHelp.com and learning about patient's experiences, insurance company fights, private pay woes, weird side effects.... and amazing sucess stories.

I learned about the Lap Band, the duodenal switch, the Roen-y and everything in between. I had no insurance and we had no money. My ass expanded in destitution.

Things have changed, a lot. I've thought, a lot. I've researched, a lot. "A lot" has just lost it's meaning for me and now looks like alien.

I am doing this. I'll tell you why, piece by piece. In boring detail. If you want to know (or suffer from insomnia), stay tuned.

My First You-Tube

2008-05-28T07:19:00.000-07:00

Well, actually it's Cheryl's first. Kindergarten graduation was last night.. with a little music program first. I love the way Cheryl's school sets these up, by the way: short and oh so sweet.

You can't hear the song, the video's jumpy (taken on a digital camera, not a video camera) but the point is... It's hysterical! Ok ok ok, if I can get geeky assistance and a song that I think goes well with it, I'll add some appropriate music. In the meantime, please enjoy Amanda's running monologue!

My favorite author, Janice Taylor says laughter's great for weight loss(check out her new book, please! I'm loving every second of "All is Forgiven, Move On") and she's absolutely right. Have a yummy giggle on me!

Our Lady of Valentine's Day Love

2008-02-11T07:56:00.000-08:00

I get a weekly email from Our Lady of Weighloss, Janice Taylor's Kick in The Tush Club. After last night's navel gazing about my weight and eating habits, this was just the sort of Valentine I needed.

Check her awesomeness out!:

Motivational Musing The Greatest Love of All
St. Valentine’s Day is around the corner, and I want to remind everyone that the greatest love of all is self-love. That’s right … hug yourself, love yourself, and if possible, bestow multiple gifts upon thyself this St. Valentine’s Day! (gift links below!) Self-love and weight loss go hand-in-hand and thigh-to-thigh, if you will. I know how it feels not to like myself and to lead a life of compromise. It’s a big, fat drag. And now I know how it feels to like – even love myself. I promise you, it’s a whole lot better and there’s no pastry, chocolate bar, or basket of bread that’s worth it putting self-love on the back-burner.
Love is an art that requires conviction, faith and daily practice. Self-love is within you, always available – ready to comfort and embrace. Fully accept yourself this St. Valentine’s Day. You deserve to love yourself, no matter your size, hairstyle (I had the ultimate bad cut a few weeks ago and struggled with self-love.),or I.Q. (my brother was the smart one!).

Five Fabulous Tips on How to Exercise Your Self-Love
Muscle

1. Write out a list of all the things you like about yourself. If you are short on ideas, ask a couple of good and kind friends. (Caution: steer clear of critical relatives.)
2. To get your day headed in the right direction, start the morning with a few self-loving affirmations. Write them first and then say them aloud. “My loving energy flows through me and out into the universe, connecting with all the Gods and Goddesses of love.” (Okay, a little over the top. I like a touch of drama.)
3. Every night jot down three things that you are grateful for. “I am grateful that I love myself.”
4. Praise and compliment yourself as often as possible. Criticism is soul crushing. Praise builds. “Wow, that chocolate smoothie I just whipped up was awesome". "I am great.” “And woo hoo! Girlfriend, look at yourself in those tight-ass jeans.”
5. Look adoringly at yourself in the mirror. Accept yourself just the way you are. No kidding, you are really fabulous. No need to wait. Love yourself NOW.

Thank you, Janice!

Whaddya Wanna Know?

2008-02-10T20:30:00.000-08:00

My new job?

It's going fine. I like the work; it's different enough that I have a challenge. It's also familiar enough that I don't feel I'm completely starting over. The team has some.. er.. interesting dynamics. I got some great advice before I left my last department and I'm taking it to heart: lay low, learn a lot, keep your mouth shut and stay neutral.

Right now, the best part of the job is that it's 8-5, Monday through Friday. The whole family's enjoying it as I've worked some incredibly kooky hours over the last year. Unfortunately, the schedule's not likely to be quite as good after March 1st. I'll need to bid for my shift and I am truly low man on the totem pole. The good news is that they have people who really like weekends and people who really like nights. Most likely, I'll be home most of the weekend and in time to kiss kiddos goodnight.

What am I going to do?

Nothing.. and everything. Learn as much as I can, try to contribute to the team in as positive a manner as possible. Remember that I'm not there to make friends and that there are dues to pay everywhere you go. Above all, learn as much as I can and enjoy the opportunity to stretch my wings and make a bit more money.

My health?

In a phrase: diabetes sucks ass. Everytime I start feeling like I have a handle on what my numbers should look like, surprise! I'm wrong. It's becoming a me versus food sort of struggle. I feel extremely guilty about the numbers being off which causes me to get mad which in turn results in inappropriate eating behavior. The obvious result is that I then have even worse test results than before. My fasting blood sugars have yet to run in the numbers my doctors want. They added a second medication, trying to help.

What am I doing about it besides whining?

I give up something for Lent every year, even though I'm not Catholic. I believe in the excersise: self restraint and sacrifice as a means of purification and learning self control. This year, I gave up sugar sweets, particularly nightly desserts. At present, I get huge cravings for sweets after most meals but especially after dinner and before bed.

For the next 40 days, I am giving up anything that qualifies as dessert and a lot of other items that revolve around huge amounts of carbs or sugar. It's my choice, not my family's or my coworkers, so no whining if someone else wants a sweet either. It's my life, it's my choice and it's not their problem. I am allowing myself sugar free jello and gum for those times when the cravings get the best of me. I also realize that two huge sweet holidays come between now and Easter: Valentine's day and my birthday. Guess I'll have to find another way to celebrate.

So far so good; it's Sunday and no slips. My hope is that 40 days from now, I can look back on how it went and realize if I made it this far, I can make it all the way. Here's hoping.

Cheap Entertainment

2008-01-25T19:36:00.000-08:00

My new favorite for free entertainment on the web: The Wikipedia 'Random Article' Button

HOURS, even DAYS of useless (sometimes uncited or unreliable) trivia. Beware, though, I think the thing has a mind of it's own. One day, nearly 1/3 of my random articles were Judaica related, including on entry on a band that specializes in Hasidic Jazz fusion recordings of traditional dances like the Hora.

Not. Kidding.

Along the way, I've learned a TON and laughed often. Example: Frank's Mom

Tonight, it's Lithuanian History. Man, we're a duplicitous bunch!

The Last Weinerschnitzel - The Sequel

2008-01-15T07:21:00.000-08:00

The holidays loomed large in my future; I didn't worry over much about my job prospects as I played with my family at Christmas. My regular supervisor had worked with the sup P, from the other department in the past. In fact most of my current management team came from that department. Jen sent P a friendly recommendation for me. He responded that he planned to schedule interviews the second week of January.

As I waited, I worked hard to keep disappointment from affecting my attitude at work, telling myself what I'd learned over and over: everything happens for a reason. I hadn't gotten what I wanted but the Universe has a funny way of knowing what you need and sending it your way regardless of what you want. If you can be patient, things usually turn out OK. If you can be patient.

Sure as sunrise and taxes, the invite arrived the afternoon of the 7Th, dated for Wednesday. I took it as a good sign that the supervisor seemed to be as punctual as I try to be. I made myself take ten breaths before sending an acceptance... and squealing quietly to myself. Behaving like a St Bernard puppy might be endearing in a friend but it's not terribly professional; I'm trying to learn restraint.

I met my prospective management team; strong handshakes and direct looks into my eyes. Kind eyes, but very direct. A tiny voice in my head said "Forget the coaching, the articles, the advice. Tell them what you feel, really. Tell them what you know, truly. Tell them what you'd do, honestly." It didn't sound like that tiny voice that told me there are no calories if you eat a brownie standing up. It sounded rational and wise.

I took a chance. Within the first minute, I'd broken the cardinal rule of job interviews: they knew I have children and they knew how many. By the time it was over, I'd told them about the biggest mistakes of my career with this company, then how I recovered from it and ensured it wouldn't happen again. By the time it was over they were saying "when you start" as opposed to "if you come to work for us."

One last leap, I asked, 'has this been a good interview?'

'This has been the most surprisingly, unconventional interview I've ever had,' said T(that's not a typo, the manager's name is T, the sup is P). 'It's also been one of the best. When you get back to your office, you need to find out the first possible day you can come to us.'

Jen called me at home the next morning: 'they're asking for your salary information and release date. This looks good, Christy.' I wasn't even scheduled to be in for two hours.

Dan and P were engaged in er... vigorous negotiation over that date. Dan has a ton of projects going right now, my timing was bad. Still, he acknowledged I only did what he told me to do. Would have been nice if I'd waited, but he didn't tell me to wait. I was flogging myself even so; I hate thinking I let anybody down. He assured me I hadn't at all. That was the whole problem.

The day wore on and so did the battle. Turns out that Dan and P are more alike than I thought. They went back and forth, P wanted sooner, D couldn't possibly think of it till later. I felt like the last Weinershnitzel at Oktoberfest; a nice change! Instead of left over and forgotten, I was a hot commodity, a valuable asset. Knowing a bit about the two personalities involved, I thought it might have been more appropriate if they'd have a light saber duel in the parking lot, but also thought it might not be a great career move to suggest it. Finally, they came to a compromise. Still felt like a Weinerschnitzel: but one cut in half and without an offer letter.

Friday, I was entirely useless and single minded like a kid on Christmas Eve: WHERE THE HECK IS MY OFFER LETTER? People don't argue over the release dates of employees they aren't going to hire!

The offer came in the late afternoon and a thousand years later. I did a happy dance and embarrassed Debbie. A fair offer, a small raise, a real position, not Interim. Jen and Debbie pulled me away from the desk before I could reply "Yes, yes, a thousand times, yes." They were right, I needed to take a few minutes and calm down so I didn't gush. I called Cowboy and let him know it was safe to celebrate. I secluded myself in a conference room and celebrated myself.

Ten minutes later and much more appropriate I sent something bland, professional, upbeat but still affirmative. A round of congratulations from Dan, Jen, Debbie and others, then discussion of who could be brought in to take my place until the position is phased out.

Dan doesn't doesn't offer false praise and doesn't compliment lightly. When he remarks "oh, and good job!" upon receipt of a completed project, that is high praise indeed. As life returned to normal and I started my usual Friday evening duties, I asked, as I always ask him when I leave his desk: is there anything else I can do for you?

Yes. You can build a cloning machine and make a copy of yourself. Give the copy to them and then stay here so I can have the original.

Weinerschnitzels don't cry, but this one almost did.

And Now for Something Completely Different

2008-01-13T05:47:00.000-08:00

Before I go 'on with the Weinerschnitzel', I stopped by Caffeinated Librarian's blog this morning because I am up ridiculously early and I haven't read her pages in a coon's age. If you've never read her, please go do so now; she is exactly what she advertises herself as but better!

One of the posts on Libby's blog had a link to a political quiz and since it's that time of year, I thought I'd take it and post my results as well. The last political thing I posted was a very short fun-quiz type of dealy that showed me as the bleeding heart liberal. Other than that, I've avoided discussing politics here whenever possible. My reasons: I am a hopelessly poor debater and take the issues personally, and the responses from people who disagree with me very personally. My family and friends are the only people who know the details about my views, though, as in everything, I'm fairly transparent.

There are lots of old sayings but the warning about mixing religion and politics into casual conversation works for me. Blogs that talk about both can get big followings. There can also be big firefights in the comments section. I'd sure love more attention, but not that kind. If you want your blog to run that way, I say, go you. I don't, so I generally don't bring that stuff up.

On the other hand, several big things happened in my politics world this week. The primary results were interesting, but it's a couple much smaller items that stayed with me. They may be why I'm thinking about this stuff.

Governor Bill Richardson stepped out of the race for president. I have been following Richardson and quietly talking him up since 2005. Anytime one of my latino friends brought up their concerns about this race, I'd throw Bill's name out as someone to watch. Every time someone I'm close to would express concern about Darfur, I'd mention Mr. Richardson and his work in the region. I like the man as a person, for his background and outlook, and as a politician for his diplomacy skills and bravery. It's too bad that he didn't have the sort of money machine backing him that the big candidates do. I hold out a strong hope that he will find his way into a Democratic White House; I think he'd be a great VP or.. maybe better, a Secretary of State.

The best thing Hillary could have done for herself was to get just a bit choked up in front of a crowd this week. She looked more human than she ever has, and this is coming from someone who respects her a great deal. Now I wouldn't be the one to give advice on when to show emotions to anybody. I generally show far too much emotion and it has cost me dearly in my life. However, people need to know that the issues touch you, that it all means something to you. As a woman, that's an incredibly delicate balance. Hillary was terribly maligned when Bill was president. I felt it was almost criminal of him to let her be his scapegoat on unpopular subjects. That said, she often comes off as more mechanical than personable, so I applaud what others might be criticising at this moment. If Dan Rather can cry on TV girly, you can get a lump in your throat!

So that's it. That was my week in politics. Below are the results of my quiz, which tell me I need to read up on some folks:

85% John Edwards
84% Chris Dodd
84% Joe Biden
84% Barack Obama
81% Bill Richardson
80% Hillary Clinton
79% Mike Gravel
76% Dennis Kucinich
36% Rudy Giuliani
30% Tom Tancredo
29% John McCain
26% Mike Huckabee
24% Mitt Romney
19% Ron Paul
17% Fred Thompson

2008 Presidential Candidate Matching Quiz

The Last Weinerschnitzel, Part One

2008-01-12T05:33:00.000-08:00

I am Interim.

I really hate that term. It didn't used to bother me; everybody was Interim. I was simply more Interim, just hanging out to learn everything I could and fill in where I was needed. Unfortunately, Interim-ly-ess-ness will grate on you eventually and I am not the most thick-skinned of folks. By the middle of December, if Interim were fabric, it would have been wet burlap and I'd have been wearing it for pants.

Maybe you don't understand what I've been doing for the last nine months-- no more than 27 people on the planet really understand what I've been doing for nine months. I'll give you a BRIEF (yes, brief.. even I can be brief) overview:

We manage the traffic for three call centers. We decide what percentage of the calls each center will take at any given time with a goal of getting 80% of our calls answered in under 20 seconds. Very often, we make changes on the fly because what seems fairly predictable (a given number of agents ought to be able to take a given percentage of the calls) isn't. We assist management in scheduling overtime, meetings, training sessions and events in such a way that the 80/20 goal is met. That is job Number One.

Job Number Two is reporting on every possible number or statistic about those calls: how many, how fast, how many people left, how they scored on QA, how long they waited, how long they were in meetings, who is calling and what they want when they call. We then assist Dan to predict how many calls we'll get from where for what when we do this all again.

Job Number Three. Since we already monitor agent activity, we are often the first to notice inappropriate behavior. We are often required to investigate and provide evidence for disciplinary action. This earns us the reputation of being bullies, babysitters and big meanyheads. I have an opinion about this, but I said brief.

I love what I'm doing. Job Number One is tedious but rewarding when you get it right. Job Number Three is depressing but a fact of life. Job Number Two is what I live for. I am Mistress of the Minutiae and I like spinning these numbers all over the place and then making good guesses about what happens next.

But that's not why I love what I am doing. I love it because I get to work with the two D's: Dan, the Jedi Master, who has been my mentor and friend since I started at Sprint, and Debbie, who has a Black Belt in data management and is one of the most kind, giving and under appreciated people I've ever met. Dan and Debbie do not hoard knowledge; they are happy to work with others and share what they know. If you're an adult, you know what a rare quality that is and why, when you find two such people in one place, you make every second count.

THE POINT

My job is going away. Not today or tomorrow, but in the next three to six months. The center is going to a system which will eliminate the need for Job Number One, the primary reason for our existence. Dan feels that he won't need three people for Jobs Number Two and Three. In a few months, when it's mostly reporting and a tiny bit of investigating, my spot will be expensive and redundant.

I knew this was coming; I had lots of warning. However, I believe in fairies, magic beans and managerial miracles. I hoped. I hoped if I learned enough and was bright enough, helpful enough, enthusiastic enough, they'd decide to keep me.

They didn't. In December it was announced that there were two and only two people becoming Actual instead of Interim. I was the last Weinerschnitzel; cold and greasy, destined to be thrown away and forgotten.

Dan let me cry, which is completely unprofessional, and rant, which isn't much better, then put my problems right back in my lap. You know this was coming, he rightfully said, and no one made you volunteer to do what you've been doing. You could have stayed back, but you wanted to learn and I let you, with no promises attached and a clear expecation of the future. Now, what you knew was happening has happened, what are you going to do about it? Don't sit here and cry, get up and help yourself.

There was a job in another department very similar to what I'm doing and it's not Interim. Go apply, he said. Then he gave his own very precious time and helped me polish my resume and cover letter for submission as he has done for me on three other occasions. I sent off the packet, then got word that they would be calling for interviews the second week in January.

The Weinerschnitzel waited.

Smile, Darn Ya!

2008-01-07T15:32:00.001-08:00

A friend of mine sent another friend (hope I can call her a friend) a sheet of scratch n sniff smiley face stickers inside a Christmas card.

This is what she did with those stickers. Warning: uncontrollable smiling ahead.

Nerd Search 2008

2008-01-04T20:08:00.000-08:00

If you didn't read my MSN Blog, you might not be familiar with Nerd Searches. I haven't posted one in a while, so maybe an explanation is in order. After this, I'll begin to put them off to the side and you can check them out if you feel like it.

I come across weird things that trip my interest in everyday life, I'm sure you do too. For me, I must then go find out as much about them as possible. I read an article on MSN recently about a certain kind of whale that is believed to live up to 200 years. Off to Google I go, plugging in "Whales" and I end up spending three hours reading everything from Wikipedia to the National Cetacean Institute's website.

Today, I am reading (or re-reading as an adult, not under Mom's duress) The Once and Future King. I run across this phrase at the end of Chapter Six of "The Queen of Air and Darkness:"

(Plot Summary) Arthur has just announced that he intends to make Might work for Right by introducing a code of chivalry, making it popular to be good in hopes of winning over his detractors and uniting his country.

The magician stood up as straight as a pillar, stretched out his arms in both directions, looked at the ceiling and said the first few words of the Nunc Dimittis.

A new Nerd Search is begun: What is 'Nunc Dimittis?'

Inspiration from the Radio

2008-01-04T11:00:00.001-08:00

Fridays I don't have to be at work until 10:30AM so I generally run a few errands before toddling off. It's been a gloomy couple of weeks but finally the sun is out. I left off my sunglasses and let it shine through eyelashes; a cheap and most effective cure for wintertime blues.

Big Yellow Taxi: it's really hard to screw up this song, no matter who sings it. Joni knows how to spin her words and chords. Shelley and I sang out loud together as we came home from the store.

Fire and Rain: JT never fails to cheer me up but especially those super hits. Did you know that his Greatest Hits album is one of the most continuously well sold of all time? More singing out loud as I drove to work.

If You Leave: I'm a product of the 80s. I can't hear OMD without bopping, singing and thinking of Molly Ringwald.

Combine sunshine, first thing in the morning productivity, these great songs and the newest from Starbucks: Skinny Mocha Lattes and my morning started off great!

Find a Reason

2008-01-02T13:54:00.000-08:00

Apparently, I don't have my normal high-pro glow. People are concerned that I'm unhappy.. but I'm not. Really. It never hurts to think of reasons to be happy anyway.

Things that are making me happy today:

It's Wednesday, I didn't have to be at work until 9AM.
The children are still on Holiday break, I got to sleep in because they didn't have to be up for school.
Traffic was super light; I got to work 45 minutes early, which means I get to leave 30 minutes early tonight.
Smoked pork roast for dinner in my lunch bag.
I accomplished my entire 1st of the year to-do list before 2:00PM today.
New socks
Triple Grande Non-Fat, Sugar Free Cinnamon Dolce lattes that taste almost as good as the fatty sugary one.
Aynde made it to Owensboro safe and sound and she has a phone, at last!
The Mary Engelbreit desk calander I got for Christmas.. so pretty and I can frame the pictures or scrap book with them when I'm done
Working with D, someone who I 'get' and who 'gets' me, and with whom I get a LOT accomplished (nothing to make you happy like productivity!)
A fabulous note to Shelley from my grandfather, encouraging her to reach for her dream and touching her so much she actually cried.

Life is good.

Mama Christy Has a Project

2008-01-01T16:07:00.000-08:00

There was a reason I asked Santa for a digital camera.

The one resolution I made this year was to participate in Project 365. Announcing: http://www.mamachristysproject365.blogspot.com/

Consider yourselves guinea pigs, by the way; I'm learning as I go.

See?

2007-12-29T18:11:00.000-08:00

Look what Santa brought. See?

Do you think he'll take her back? She eats a lot!

Updates:

We had a lovely, snowy Christmas. Everybody got just what they asked for and some things they didn't even know they wanted. See?

My grandfather promised us a needlepoint custom designed just for us. It arrived a few weeks ago, and it's completely lovely. See?

We've had some lovely, but rather cold weather. See?

Of course, the cold made for a lot of good quality time together. See?

Not everybody likes to play on the computer when it's snowy. Some of us have other ... er.. pursuits. See?

Happy New Year to you all!

Well, They Said They Wanted 'Over The Top'...

2007-12-14T15:42:00.000-08:00

D, C and I started planning in October for our cubicle's Christmas decorations . I can't remember who said it, but as we sat on Friday afternoon, it occurred to us that it'd be totally fun to turn our cubicle into a Gingerbread House. We googled for many different pictures of our subject, got good ideas, sketched and brainstormed away.

Building Maintenance and Management advised us that we could not put anything up before December 10th, but we were way ahead of them. In November, we ordered two rolls of 'b-flute' 1/2 corrugated from http://www.papermart.com/. We cut it into four foot strips to fit the cube walls. Some we scalloped for the roofing and glitter snow applied. The shutters were cut and spray painted white. The weekend before the 10th, D and C started assembly while my children and I cut out and glitter sprayed hundreds of gumdrops.

We've made little enhancements all week, up until today, when we declared we absolutely had to finish up the project. Please pardon the pictures; I took them with my cell phone and .. er.. tried to 'fix' them, which is problematic at best. I hear Santa might be bringing me a nice little digital camera so I can photo blog more often.

Anyway: the Gingerbread Cubicle! Tell me what you think!

Detail of the windows, which we decided to change at the last minute. I'm glad we did!

No such house would be complete without the tree:

I may have had to cut back on the sugar, but I still know how to make a little something sweet.

Merry Christmas!

Eight Random Facts

2007-12-07T16:07:00.000-08:00

Eric tagged me and I've procrastinated long enough. Plus, now I finally have something to talk about!

Here are the rules. (1) Each player starts with eight random facts/habits about themselves. (2) People who are tagged need to write a post on their own blog (about their eight things) and post these rules. (3) At the end of your blog, you need to choose eight people to get tagged and list their names. (4) Don’t forget to leave them a comment telling them they’re tagged, and to read your blog.

1. I am afraid of water. Anything deeper than an average sized pool (even Olympic sized ones) terrifies the heck out of me. Deep water, boats, boats on water, icebergs floating in water waiting to sink ships are the things that fill my nightmares. Sharks hanging around icebergs waiting for ships to sink so they can eat the people on board are my worst fantasy. It's not that I can't swim; I can, very well, with several different strokes. It's just the thought of the unknown beneath me. It's a good thing I've lived 95% of my life dead center in the middle of my continent and have carefully avoided extended visitations with anything bigger than a frog pond.

2. I am a 9 year old when it comes to Christmas; maybe even six or seven. I figure I was frozen in time when my family stopped celebrating and only picked back up when I grew up and made the decision for myself. I never told my mom, but I would lie awake listening for Santa even after we'd made the switch. A little part of me believed that my grandparents were in cahoots with the man in red because presents always arrived shortly after THE DAY. I'm not saying this to make my parents (who frequently read my blog) feel bad; I know they were doing what they thought was right and I love them for that. This is just a random fact but it's seasonally appropriate. I believe in Santa!

3. I have recently been diagnosed with Type II Diabetes. Very recently; Tuesday recently. Is this a big surprise? Not at all. Is it a bummer? Hell yeah. I feel like I screwed up my life AGAIN by 'allowing' this to happen to me. Just when you think you're not a f***-up. Sigh. It's a whole new world; one complete with three daily glucose level checks and medication for the foreseeable future.

4. I get Ear Worm so bad it causes me anxiety attacks. Seriously, that totally cool Bowling for Soup song you love? It kept me up till three AM a week ago. I have found only three methods of removing the song from my head before I pull out all my hair and show up to work looking like a heroine addict: 1)Clonezepam, and who wants to be drugged up all the time? 2) Singing the Barney Song at least three times over 3) Singing vocal warm ups for ten minutes. The last two are pretty much guaranteed to make you unpopular with your family at 3AM.

5. A lifetime ago, I was the administrator of the Largest. Message Board Devoted to a Series of Exceedingly Popular Books That Were Later Made Into Movies. In. The. World. Period. (It's not Harry Potter, that's all the info I'm giving!) I did a terrible job. I have no managerial skills whatsoever and very little natural diplomacy. Tact is a foreign language. I constantly poured gasoline on small flames and turned them into conflagrations of badly executed good intentions. It's a wonder they still let me post there; poor deluded fools.

6. I know American Sign Language, or I used to know a lot. I still know some. I took three years of the language in college. The courses were taught by a woman who had graduated from Gallaudet University and who didn't know when she was yelling. I was terrified of her until she told me that watching me sign must be what it's like to hear someone singing.

7. I grew up in a haunted house. That's right, I believe in Santa Claus AND ghosts! Half my readership just scrubbed my blog off their history (so I guess I'm down to just the one reader). The old Victorian house my parents rescued from being torn down had many residents besides us; there is no other way to describe it. Some either did not know how to pass over or had chosen not to do so, some I think may have been members of the Fae families. I also think some of what we experienced wasn't an active spirit or soul but the echo of some one's very powerful life event. I have since developed a pretty detailed theory about ghosts, poltergeists, angels, demons, fairies and 'emotional imprints.'

8. I am half Polar bear. I almost never get cold and actually, am usually too warm. Fall and winter are my favorite seasons because I can always bundle up to stay warm but I can't take my skin off to stay cool. When Cowboy is huddled under two quilts in sweats and socks, I'm sleeping with no blankets in shorts and a tank top. I rarely wear a coat unless it's wet outside or the temperature is below freezing.

OK.. whew! I am not sure I have eight people to name, but here goes: Heidi over at Virushead, Chris on Three Hour Tour, Libby from Caffeinated Librarian, WHW from Television and Stuff and Ted from http://www.tschopp.net/. Sorry.. that's everyone who met these criteria 1)I can remember their name or how to find their blog and 2) Does not appear to have done this Meme recently.

Kinda Cheesy. HA HA HA HAHAHAH

2007-11-21T17:39:00.000-08:00

You Are a Brownie Cheesecake

A little chunky and a little gooey, you pretty much run on sugar!
You take hedonism to the extreme.. And people love you for it.

What Kind of Cheesecake Are You?

I Have No One to Blame But Myself

2007-11-21T17:37:00.000-08:00

Exotic Dancer Name Is...

Whisper

Exotic Dancer Name Generator

VirusHead Made Me Do It

2007-11-21T17:35:00.000-08:00

You Are a Liberal for Life

You've got a bleeding heart - and you're proud of it.
For you, liberal means being compassionate, pro-government, and anti-business.
You believe in equality for every person, and you consider yourself universally empathetic.
Helping others is not just political for you ... it's very personal too.

What's Your Political Persuasion?

Why is this so funny?

2007-11-21T16:17:00.000-08:00

It shouldn't be, but it is!

Me, Shelley, and Patrick... Elf Style!

Elfin' it Up!

Try it yourself at WWW.Elfyourself.com

What's Your Game?

2007-11-16T17:50:00.000-08:00

We dropped Amanda off at the CSP academy for her course Sunday morning. It's about 40 minutes from our house to Golden; it didn't seem worth the drive back home only to turn around in four hours to pick her up.

In Golden, on a Sunday morning when you aren't (find a delicate way to say this, Christy....) inclined to attend services at a house of worship? There isn't a lot to do.

What to do.. what to do.... As we meandered the road led, as many in that part of town do, towards the mountains, towards.... Black Hawk and Central City. There might be something to do there on a Sunday morning, just maybe. Up the hill we went.

Beautiful Sunday morning drive; through a deep canyon, rushing water just below, mountain goats and big horn sheep above, through four tunnels shooting straight through the mountain and into these tiny towns located side by side.

Keep in mind, Cowboy and I are not big gamblers, which is to say, we don't. The last time I gambled was probably 1998, when I put $5.00 into a nickel slot machine in Vegas and made that five last three days. When I finally cashed it out, on our way home, it was $8.00 and I counted myself pretty darn lucky. Unlike the miners of old, we weren't going up the hill to strike it rich.

There are lots of places to park up there; most major hotels have big parking garages. We cruised both tiny towns, seeing the sights. It's sad but fairly obvious that the big outfits have put the little guy out of business: we saw a ton of empty store fronts. I'm sure it's hard to make it in that sort of town.

We were starting, so we found a spot in one of the mammoth structures and walked through the Mardi Gras casino in search of food. Good things about casinos: generally you can find food that won't cost you an arm and a leg. We found a huge breakfast for $3.99, coffee included! So huge was the breakfast, though, that we had to walk.

Eventually, we found ourselves at Colorado Central Station where we decided it was time to gamble. We weren't feeling as reckless as when in Vegas (besides, Central Station doesn't have nickel slots), so opted to conserve our resources by playing penny slots. The good thing about slots: they're sort of like video games: pretty colors and fun music. Bad thing: they're sort of like video games: they take your money. Correction here: they took Cowboy's money.

We played two hours. I lost $0.22, Cowboy lost $30.00. Completely satisfied for another nine years, we were back in Golden in time to grab lunch and the girl.

I really don't see myself taking the trip up that road again for a while. I'm already taking enough chances: I have three teenagers!

Soup

2007-11-13T20:29:00.000-08:00

I am cooking more; I got away from it over the summer when the kitchen was hot and I was working a lot of overtime. I tend to cook for an army so if I make two full meals a week, they generally last the family four dinners plus a lunch or two for me. It's good for me to be in the kitchen; I feel like a better provider, a better mom. It's also better for my weight-state-of-mind.

Besides dinners, I'm making a pot of soup each week. Soup helps me pack a full serving of veggies and often fiber into a yummy, home cooked meal which travels easily. The soup is made just for me, with stuff I like and nothing left out because others don't. I eat it three or four days out of the week; taking it with me for lunch at least twice. Other family members are welcome to a bowl as long as there's no complaining about the contents. It's called Mom Soup for a reason.

I usually start the soup in the morning, figuring to have it ready by evening.

Last week's soup was sausage and bean. So thick it was nearly a stew; I first rinsed a package of 15 bean soup mix available at WalMart or your local grocery. After the beans soaked overnight, I started bringing them to a boil in water twice a deep as the beans in a 14 quart stock pot. I sauteed diced onions, garlic and smoked sausage in a skillet, then deglazed it with red wine.

Onions, garlic, sausage all went into the stock pot along with a can of beef broth and a can of diced tomatoes. Salt, pepper, herbs of choice (mine are red pepper, basil, thyme and bay leaf) and long long hours simmering on medium low are the finishing touches.

This week's soup is turkey and rice. Thanksgiving may be next week, but turkey is a good option for a big family any time so we make it several times a year. Besides, Cowboy's parents are hosting at their house and making the bird on T-Day; they aren't likely to send home the carcass for my soup making pleasure. Turkey last Sunday won't spoil our appetites for it next Thursday.

I make sure not to pick the bones too clean on my bird, leaving lots of meat to fall off in the soup pot. For good measure, I cook the neck in the same session. This time, we stuck a quartered onion in the cavity during roasting. All went into the pot with water covering the bones completely. A good grinding of salt, a bay leaf, chopped parsley and sprinkling of thyme, then the whole was brought to a slow, rolling boil in my trusty stock pot this morning.

This afternoon, I carefully strained the bones from the broth and added diced celery and carrots along with sauteed onions and garlic. Most of the water's boiled off by this time, so I added a few cups more and 3/4 cup uncooked rice, then turned down the heat to simmer.

I just checked; I have a pot of glorious broth swimming with veggies, meat and rice. Tomorrow's going to be so yummy. I think I'll pack extra for work.

By the way, soup is also good way to win friends and influence people.

Give someone a bowl of homemade soup; warm a tummy, make a friend.

It is Beginning...

2007-11-11T06:30:00.000-08:00

I am up, showered, coiffed and coffeed. Why? Against my will, I tell you!

The terror begins today. The knot in my stomach tells the tale, I don't want to do this. It's too soon. I'm not ready. I may never be ready.

I've put it off, made my excuses but still the inevitable marched closer and closer.

It all began so innocently, blinking it's big blue eyes at me. Of course, I had to take it home, nearly 16 years ago; it was helpless.

But now the day is coming nearer. The day...

My oldest child starts driving.

Amanda is enrolled in the Driver's Education course Alive at 25 Once completed, she's on to the dreaded Learner's Permit. We're just over a year shy of her Driver's License.

There is no hope; if you must wish anything for me, wish that it's over with quickly.

Ahhh... silly pointless time wasting!

2007-11-09T18:16:00.001-08:00

moar funny pictures

Task Completed

2007-10-26T17:16:00.000-07:00

I was cleaning out my Tasks lists on the Treo this week and came across this item I meant to turn into a blog entry.

Entry: "Elephant Peeking at Me"
Ren Faire - June, 2007: Remember that I went to have a Tarot reading at the Ren Faire? The wonderful old lady, Norma, who read for me likes to take her time with clients; it took her almost an hour to get to me.

Norma and her partner, a palmist, had a nice shady space with covered benches for clients waiting their turn. The rear of the space is a fence; the parade staging area is on the other side. I enjoyed people watching all the interesting types going past the booth. As I sat, I noticed over the fence, lots of activity as the faire participants got ready for the parade that runs through the whole park several times a day.

A snuffling noise made me turn from from watching people pass by the booth's front. One of the faire's two elephants had been stationed to wait his turn just behind Norma's booth; while he was there, apparently decided to say hello to me. I was so charmed! Perhaps I'm being niave but it was so fun to have an elephan reaching out his trunk to say hello to me. The handler came and took him away shortly, but not before he and I exchanged smiles and nods of a friendly sort. The whole experience added to the magic of the day.

Godmother Wisdom

2007-10-25T14:08:00.000-07:00

I just noticed this: more often than not, appearing intelligent is not about what you say, it's about what you don't.

Hobbits to Isengard

2007-10-16T19:56:00.003-07:00

Who knew Orli had this kind of rythm

Mashed Taters - Flash

2007-10-16T19:56:00.001-07:00

It's nice to know it's not just Amanda and I who get obsessed like this...

That Time of Year...

2007-10-12T17:58:00.000-07:00

What Your Halloween Habits Say About You

You are an outgoing person who's a bit of a showoff. It's likely that you dress up for Halloween every year.

You definitely think of yourself as someone who has a dark side. And part of having that dark side means not showing it.

Your inner child is stubborn and a bit bossy.

Your fears are irrational and varied. It's hard to predict what you may be afraid of on any given day.

You're prone to be quite emotional and over dramatic. Deep down, you enjoy being scared out of your mind... even if you don't admit it.

You are a total overachiever and workaholic. You're the type of person who plans their elaborate Halloween costume weeks in advance.

What's Your Halloween Personality?

Only if David Boreanz Came Along with the Deal

2007-10-12T17:54:00.000-07:00

Thank you to VirusHead for making me think....

You Could Be a Vampire... If You Had To

Like most people, the thought of being a vampire has crossed your mind. But you're not sure if you'd do it, even if you could.
Living forever doesn't sound half bad, if you could live forever with the people you love the most.
But do vampires even love? And would the vampire version of you even be you?
It's all too much to contemplate. Luckily, the chances of you ever becoming a vampire are astronomically low.

What you would like best about being a vampire: Living forever

What you would like least about being a vampire: Blood stained teeth

Could You Be a Vampire?

Nerd Search: The Return

2007-10-10T11:32:00.000-07:00

It's a horny subject, I warn you!

What is Elk Antler (NOT HORN!!) made of?

How to Feel?

2007-10-05T13:33:00.001-07:00

My ex husband is getting divorced.

He told me during a rare phone conversation Monday. My first thought was "THANK GOD!" Fortunately, my second was "Don't say that out loud."

This isn't about a possible JD-Christy Do-Over.

I'd never consider leaving Cowboy for JD. Not. Ever.

The feeling's mutual? Good.

That doesn't prevent me from being conflicted.

It's been apparent to me for some years that M has been biggest problem in our relationship with JD. For me, this was a minor irritation. By mutual consent, I have as little to do with the man as possible, but gradually, we've reached a point where my exchanges with him have been neutral, bordering on cordial.

M was a different story: Once every couple years we'd have an ugly fight over something stupid and she'd break out the lawyers. My attorney would take one look at the frivolous claim of the day and convince them to drop it before they got slapped with a fine for a filing a nuisance lawsuit. Not before she collected a tidy retainer from me, of course.

For Amanda, M's interference has been less expensive but more costly: near total disconnect between father and daughter.

Amanda and her half sister (M's daughter w/ JD) don't speak at all anymore.

Step parents are too often villain-ized in TV and movies; Amanda herself can attest to the fact that the Wicked Stepmother/Stepfather image is often far from the truth. Cowboy has raised Amanda as his very own, no different than our other children. Sadly, M never saw Amanda that way.

I realize I probably played a part in it; I made it clear from the start that Amanda is MY child, that M was not her mother. M may have felt a deep resentment towards Amanda because of my stridency. I did not want to share her with anyone, especially not people who often told me how much they hated me. I can see how part of it might have been my fault.

That doesn't explain the years (yes YEARS) when JD didn't see her more than an hour or two twice a year while she was visiting his parents. His mom would tell me it wasn't his fault, that it was causing a strain for him to see her even that much; frankly. I didn't want to believe it. At one point M told JD's parents that they couldn't see Amanda without her permission and a big part of me wonders if she was saying something like that to him too. When Amanda did begin to visit her Father, M and sister, she'd bring home tales that were highly reminiscent of the Bothers Grimm. I wouldn't have believed that they didn't let her sleep in a bed at their house, if M hadn't told me herself that it was true.

Now what? I'm sorry for JD; divorce is hard, especially with children. I am sorry for A's half-sister. At the same time, though, I can't help but feel relieved.

Wouldn't it be great if this marked a turning point? Wouldn't it be wonderful if Amanda, her sister and father got a fresh start and built a better relationship? It'd be wonderful. It may also be part of a future without global warming or AIDs. I can hope.

Finally, a teeny tiny part of me has been doing a little "told ya so" dance all week. Told ya so, she sucks. Told ya so, he does too. Told ya so, she's a poo poo head with bad 80's hair and no sense of style. Told ya so, he's a selfish lover who can't take care of himself.

But that's really a very small part of me. Honest. The vast majority is being very mature and sensitive about it. I ended our conversation by offering to help him if there was anything he needed. See how mature I am?

I'm completely conflicted and I'm not even the one getting divorced!

I have one thing to say

2007-10-03T15:05:00.000-07:00

GO ROCKIES!!!!!!!

That is all.

Invisible Buffalo

2007-09-22T22:23:00.001-07:00

Invisible Buffalo
Originally uploaded by fairygodmotherchristy

Very pretty but I prefer my buffalo visible. Really.

Who You Callin Turkey?

2007-09-22T22:22:00.003-07:00

Who You Callin Turkey?
Originally uploaded by fairygodmotherchristy

Custer State Park

2007-09-22T22:22:00.001-07:00

Custer State Park
Originally uploaded by fairygodmotherchristy

Mule Deer

Vacation Wrap Up

2007-09-22T07:25:00.000-07:00

The last two days of vacation, I started jotting things on the Treo for later blogging. The time has come to post:

I highly encourage a visit to this area; it's one of the standard trips every American family should make as there's really nothing quite like this part of the world: Rushmore, Crazy Horse, Custer National Park and the surrounding towns. There's something for everyone from the hardiest 'outdoorsy' type to the couch potatoes who prefer to pull up to the curb of the next attraction. The communities around Rushmore and Rapid City really know how to entertain you (and separate you from your money).

Mount Rushmore itself has been updated. Though I miss the old cafeteria of North By Northwest fame, people of any age and ability can move around the site easily and appreciate the monument. The drive in from Rapid is beautiful but the Custer highway has some tunnels specifically designed to frame the mountain as you emerge. Very spectacular.

The motel in Gillette lacked such amenities as working A/C and clean bathrooms and sheets. I'm sorry to say I missed the highlight of the facilities, the shower in the kids' room. Cheryl reported that the shower curtain smelled 'like Will farted!' Will declared he had done no such thing but agreed the curtain did have a certain tang. I wouldn't recommend it to anybody so will not link to it here.

The Grand Gateway Hotel in Rapid City was nicely decorated, comfortable, clean and fun for everybody. Two for one bar drinks for Mom and Dad went along nicely with swimming for the kids. The pool area even had a 130ft water slide into the dinosaur footprint shaped pool!

Mount Rushmore National Park's surrounding forests were decimated a few years ago during an especially bad fire season (or two). Though I had delivered a lecture not thirty minutes previously about the life cycle of forests and how forest fires are a natural part of this process, I still cried when I saw the devastation. I hadn't been to the area since I was 17 and had forgotten about the fires. I cannot believe how different the area looks. I did feel much better the next day in Custer State Park, where everything was as I remember (except for those Invisible Buffalo.. read on).
When playing the License Plate Game, the parking lots of major National Monuments are fabulous. At Mt. Rushmore, I was declared the winner (by my own authority) when I found one from Alberta, Canada.

The area around Rushmore also is the summer home of a number of visiting international students. We were served ice cream by kids from Poland and Russia. Our darling redheaded waitress in Keystone was named Ieva (pronounced Eva) and came from Lithuania. My mother's family being from that area, she could have been a distant cousin judging by her coloring and facial structure (and willingness to talk!).

Custer State Park is very pretty at dusk, as you drive along the wildlife loop. You can enjoy the wild turkeys, mule deer and buffalo. It's fairly secret right now, but we imagine sometime in the next few years, they'll announce something new.. which we may have been the first to discover: INVISIBLE BUFFALO! You can't see 'em but you know they're there by the chips, which are not invisible. In all seriousness, it was disappointing, but the closest we got to the big furry guys (aside from numerous signs warning about the danger of charging buffs), was about 1/2 mile away from a group of about 100.

At some point during nearly all visits with my parents, I find myself apologizing for something I did as a kid. This time it was giving the impression that I didn't enjoy the last trip to the area. Apparently, I was a little hard to read as a teen and perhaps slightly surly. The impression was that I hated every minute and was determined to spread the feeling. I corrected that forcefully: I've always remembered the area and what a great trip it was. I did manage to block out a shouting match in the car when I apparently told my parents to 'pull over' because I was going to 'walk home' which took place somewhere outside of New Castle, Wyoming (a couple hours BY CAR from my home at the time).

First Word to the Not-So-Wise: when dealing with highways in South Dakota and Nebraska, don't always trust your instincts. We took the more logical (but wrong) turn out of Hot Springs, South Dakota. As a result, we missed the turn back into New Castle or Torrington and ended up driving the width of Nebraska, North to South. We calculated that the drive itself worked out to be roughly the same number of miles, only a little bit longer drive time; state highways vs interstates. However, I HATE being lost and for about an hour, we were good and LOST.

Second Word to the Not-So-Wise: Do not be distracted by the tempting, fatty, salty glow of the giant M as you enter Chadron, Nebraska from the North. If you fall into McDonald's fast food clutches, you'll miss the turn for the ONLY HIGHWAY headed your way and might have to back track as far as ten miles after you discover you mistake. Not that we fell victim to such an obvious trap...

Third Word to the Not-S0-Wise: Even the best Sprint Broadband service doesn't work in the more rural areas of Southern South Dakota and most of Nebraska. Technology will get you lots of places but it's always a good idea to have a good ol' paper map for when Technology has 'No Service.'

Eric, you are correct, Sir. I got good mileage out of this event. I may even have one more post in me about everything I saw. Certainly I shall post a few pictures, as I can't figure out how to embed them from http://www.flickr.com/ but have set up photo blogging from between Blogger and Flickr.

Stay Tuned!

Wonderful Wyoming (Windy!) Wedding

2007-09-12T21:07:00.001-07:00

Alex and Deena W___ were married at 2:00PM, August 31st, 2007 at a ranch that's been in Deena's family for six generations. It was hot, it was dusty, windy, it was beautiful! This is Wyoming, people!

I have no shots of the ceremony itself: the kids had a very talented photographer to do that for them and mine would pale by comparison, but I do have highlights and a few nice photos from the rehearsal dinner and the reception:

The setting: grazing land amongst the sweeping plains of North East Wyoming with a view of the Black Hills. The boys had created an arch of iron(?) with linked horseshoes for the couple to stand beneath. I didn't realize it until later, but the horseshoe motif was very clever, picture two horseshoes entwined, or crossing one another. The symbol of two becoming one works very well, it's also the first letter of their last name (W).
The Gents: four groomsmen dressed in black cowboy hats, top coats (Alex, correct me if I'm wrong, k?), vests, white shirts, black jeans and boots.To say it was sunny would be an understatement, no rain for our newly-weds' day. The must-have accessory turned out to be sunglasses.
The Ladies: a quartet of Deenas' closest friends, each with a pretty purple dress specially designed for her. Despite the wind, hairdos held up, make-up stayed fresh. The flowers made it through the ceremony; good thing they had extra for the reception.
The Little Ones: The ring bearer, a cousin of Deena's, I believe, was darling. He was dressed just to match the Big Boys and did a beautiful job, standing still without complaining through the ceremony. Cheryl looked darling with her hair in loose curls and a wreath of baby's breath. Deena's mom, Luanne, designed her dress so that the bodice was made of the same material as Deena's dress and the skirt of the same material in the Bridesmaid's gowns. She carried a tiny white basket filled with pink rose petals remembered it was OK if they blew away.
The Honored Guests: we were very fortunate to have so many members of both families join us. Besides both sides of Alex (and my) family, all of Deena's grandparents were able to attend, including her grandfather whose health has been declining. Poppop and Uncle Rick were there, representing the W's, along with my mom's sister Karen. Best of all, the same uncle who married Bill and I also performed the ceremony for Alex and Deena. Both Alex and Deena had unexpected friends show up from far away, both at the ceremony and the reception.
The Groom: Alex smiled. A lot. This is big. Alex smiles at Mom and Dad, he smiles at me, at Cowboy, he smiles quite a bit at Deena, and even at his friends. That afternoon, Alex smiled and smiled and smiled. But not during his vows. Maybe it's a sign: both Alex and Cowboy said their vows with faces set in stone, men of their word, they took it seriously. When it came time for him to say the "I take you Deena" part, he was also loud enough to be heard in Utah! When this guy makes a vow, he says it so everybody can hear.
The Bride: Soft blond curls floated down Deena's back, her delicate tiara sparkling in the sun. As I think on it, every inch of Deena's ensemble was created or set by someone who loves her very much. The dress was made primarily by her mother, but Deena's whole family helped with various parts. The tiara I mentioned was made by an Aunt in Texas just for the occasion, her hair carefully set and prepared by a long time friend of the family, her flowers arranged by the sister of one of her best friends, even the cake prepared by someone close to her. I gave her a handkerchief that had belonged to our great-grandmother, Miriam to carry as her borrowed thing. Alex and Cowboy said their vows the same way; Deena and I did too. We both sniffled just a bit in awe of the moment.

It was so bright, the wedding party wore shades but I didn't feel it detracted at all. Afterwards, everyone piled into the vehicles for the drive back to town and the reception. Tons of barbecue chicken and beef, fabulous potato salad, tons of ice tea and lemonade and a keg. Cowboy felt it part of his groomsmen duty to assist in the draining of the last, and had enough to make him the best dancer in the room. No really, he gets better with a little beer.

Some other highlights from the reception:

Mark (the best man) gave a fabulous toast that really did capture the heart of Alex and his bond with Deena. It also captured Mark's bond with Alex.. which mostly involves horsepower.
Alex and Deena are darling together. During their dance, I cried.
My parents danced. In my memory, I can't recall ever having seen them dance in a formal setting. I cried.
Patrick danced with Deena, as did Bill. I didn't cry, I got pictures.
My mother didn't stop dancing the whole night. She danced with my dad, then she danced with Deena's dad (more than once, actually, I think), she danced the hokey-pokey, the chicken dance and the conga. It was awesome!
The cake was handmade by one of Deena's friends and turned out beautifully; she'd never worked with fondant icing before but she did so well!
I got to dance with my husband. I think it's been close to five years since we had danced and I forgot how much I missed it.
Will caught the garter. Not sure how happy I am about that...

Last but not least, the best thing about the whole day.....

Alex did NOT have to work!!!

Congratulations, Alex and Deena. It was a privilege celebrating with you both!

Check out the album I created for this on Flickr (boy I hope this works!)

Wedding Album

Big Girls Don't Cry

2007-08-31T05:55:00.000-07:00

Family Du Godmother's Great Wedding Caper Notes to Date:

The remnants of Hurricane Dean made interesting driving weather yesterday. Because of Dean we were treated to a fabulous sunrise. Dean also had us moving through various types of fog banks and low lying clouds like nothing we'd ever seen. Tropical storms really aren't so scary once they've worn themselves down into 'Monsoonal Flows.'
The stretch of Highway 59 between Douglas and Gillette should be renamed 'Bunny Memorial Highway' judging by all the remains. Apologies to those with tender stomachs, but I have never in my life seen as much roadkill as I did yesterday.
Our motel gets classier and classier, water stained ceilings and black mold in the shower are just a few of the delights so far. Please don't believe the advertising: they do NOT have free breakfast for guests but are fairly adept at giving directions to their restaurant, less so to the grocery store.
We won't be moving to Gillette, Wyoming. I respect Alex and Deena (not to mention her wonderful, wonderful family) too much to trash the town here on my blog. However, if the city fathers should somehow stumble onto this site: your town has potential, I hope someday you'll manage to find it again.
Amanda's dog, Dora (who may get a new name from her new owner) is completely darling. My mother's efforts at 'dog matching' have definitely paid off; Dora and Amanda both appear to be smitten.

Speaking of smitten, it was a genuine privilege to meet Deena and her family yesterday. The rehearsal dinner was everything such an event should be: a meeting and gentle blending of two families at the happiest of times. The highlights:

Represented in that room were four generations of two different families. Long marriages and deep ties, children lovingly raised and in turn raising their own.
Deena's family are friendly and forthright. They love her very much (of course!) and obviously love Alex too.
Alex's boss oh so considerately consented to let him off work in time to shower and attend his own rehearsal dinner. (I am not kidding) We can only hope he'll do the same today for the ceremony (again, I am not kidding).
The atmosphere and food were just right. My father and grandfather planned and the restaurant executed an event as close to perfect as anyone could ask. If you have the chance to eat at The Chophouse, may I suggest the Chicken Marsala?
My speech went off very nicely. I had given up writing it down and spoke off the cuff, having thought and roughly planned it for two months. I managed to incorporate every one's ideas without taking too long. Best of all: I got through it without crying.
Alex and Deena are great together and I WILL get a good picture of him if it kills me (Deena has never taken a bad photo in her life).

I need to wrap this up in order to hop in the shower. We're heading down to the ranch early, to be available for set up. Cheryl's dress is perfect, Cowboy will be smokin' in his tux.

Weddings are not without their challenges at the best of times; I just hope Alex and Deena have gone through all they'll have to face already.

My Wishes for Deena

2007-08-25T17:32:00.000-07:00

We've never met face to face Deena, but I trust Alex's judgement implicitly. As you prepare to join your life with his, I wish you all these things:

May you feel welcome as a member of our family; loved and accepted just as much as he loves you and accepts you.
May you have a marriage that is more than even what you wildest dreams imagine.
May Alex find you attractive always, especially when you feel unattractive. May he always see you as the girl he first loved(even if this means he never notices when you change hairstyles or gain/lose weight).
May you have a houseful of love, between you both, your familes and all who know you.
May you have the man who is strong when you need him to be, yet understands and supports that often it is we, the women, who must be the strong ones.
May you worry only when you need to.
May Alex be your helium and your string: giving you flight, yet holding you steady.
May you be blessed with a peaceful home and the talent for keeping it so.
May your ends always meet.
May you find a man who trusts you enough to cry with you. There are few higher honors than a man's tears entrusted to one who won't disrespect them.
May it be forever.

I can't wait to meet you. Congratulations!

My Wishes for Alex

2007-08-24T21:29:00.000-07:00

Little brother, I'm so happy for you and so proud of you! I finally understand why mom always cried during beautiful pieces of music and happy parts of movies (I am sooo my mother's daughter).

Alex, I wishes for you:

May your bond be like the strong bonds you've been surrounded with all your life. May you take the steadfast, stubborn, longlasting love we saw in our grandparents and parents into your own marraige.
May you find in Deena a real partner, a woman you know you can share your whole self, even the grumpy in the morning, unshaved and messy haired self with.
May you be both a leader and a follower in your relationship, learning and becoming the teacher by turns.
May you be comforted and offer comfort as it's needed, that you can become to her what she has been to you.
May you have what you need, yet know the pride of self-reliance.
May you work together to accomplish your goals; nothing is so satisfying as sharing these experiences.
May you suffer crises, that you can know miracles and recovery.
May you argue, that you can make up.
May you have met someone who compliments your attention to detail with flexibility, your devotion with respect and honor.
May you have found a partner who makes you want to work and to grow.
May you find tenderness and intimacy in quiet times, a sense of humor and steady temper in loud ones.
May you have found someone who gets your jokes, even the really dry ones.
May she mean as much to you as Bill means to me, that to lose her would be losing a part of yourself.
May it be forever.

I love you.

Inspiration from the iPod

2007-08-24T21:10:00.000-07:00

At the end of my Featured Space week on MSN last year, I posted about 'Inspiration from the Radio.' It may have been one of my best posts to date. Music stirs us all deeply. In addition, times of intense emotions tend to inspire me to write. When my grandmother was dying, three years ago, I wrote the tribute that drove my grandfather to ask me to speak at Alex and Deena's rehearsal dinner.

Knowing both these things, I guess it's not surprising that with a week to go before my little brother marries the love of his life, I am suddenly bursting with inspiration. One tiny whiney note: where the HECK was all this inspriration over the course of the last two months, huh? It's gotta all arrive in one night? Yeah, that's reasonable!

*cleansing breath*

Annnnnnnd we're back.

Tonight, I heard Rascal Flatt's sing 'My Wish' and all my wishes for my brother and his fiance began crowding into my brain. It might take me more than one post. I hope you bear with me, I may have wishes for more people than simply Alex and Deena. As I sit I can think of wishes I have for both my grandmothers, my parents, my kids, my grandfather and the rest of my family.

It's a darn good thing I'm practicing to be a Godmother. No other creature has the capacity to handle the vastness of well-wishes bursting out of me right now.

Without further ado...

What's Up Buttercup?

2007-08-22T05:26:00.000-07:00

What's new? Where've you been? What's going on in your life?

The answers!

Cara was here for a visit. We got to spend a couple hours together, rebonding. Aynde even called while she was here (weird? nope. We're connected like that!) so all three of us were sort of in one space for a brief time. Cara took the girls and I out for hibachi at Hanabi's (home of THE BEST TEMPURA ON THE PLANET!!). She put up with me playing 'my best friend is a (soon to be) doctor.. so what do you think this bump on my leg is' and didn't even sigh once. I admired her new Palm and she admired my Treo. Oh and yes, I remembered to get a picture:

(Cara's the tall one, I'm the short one, duh!) Oh and she passed her boards! Go CARA!!!

My hairdo is new.. but not terribly. Pat and I made me spiky! (she calls it a 'sprout' but whatever, it's SPIKE!!) It's basically my same cut but I can spike the top and back if I feel attituderific. Right now it's causing me to use about double the product I would normally, though. Gotta get that under control.
Posting pictures of my 'What Not to Wear' purse. (Yes, still buzzing about the new purse. At least little things that make me happy make me happy a LONG TIME). 'What Not To Wear purse', you're asking? The purse is NOT an example of what not to wear. Instead it's an example of how much the TLC show has taught me. Not too big or too small; has some detail but not too much, some pattern, but not too much and the wallet I found matches perfectly and isn't too busy. Observe:

Happy sigh... Yep. Still love it.

We have finished repainting the main living areas of our house. By we, I mean Cowboy and the Kids painted the walls a gorgeous sort of.. latte color and the trim is high gloss enamel white. I assisted with chocolate chip cookies home baked and lasagna reward as rewards. I do not paint.
We have finished washing the carpets and saddle soaping the couch. By we I mean myself and the Kids. Cowboy does not wash carpets or saddle soap anything but his boots.
Cowboy has finished rebuilding the fence on both sides of the house.
He also added a three foot by twenty foot stretch of brick next to the driveway where the grass had been turned to mud/dirt when we (and the previous tenants) ran over it in order to get into the driveway from our very narrow street
We found lovely things for the girls to wear at the wedding. Amanda has a skirt and blouse from Ann Taylor and Shelley has the same from Fashion Bug (she felt Ann Taylor was too grown up).
The boys have been out to Washington and back. They flew out all and back all by themselves and even managed a 2 1/2 hour stop over in Salt Lake without incident. They've seen the ocean, gone to a county fair (where Will says there were many 'hot girls') and a farmer's market. Mostly, they spent hours playing with the dogs and horses at my parent's house. Mom and Dad also got them their outfits for the wedding, taking some of the burden off us (Thank you!!).
Everybody starts school in the next two days. That's right. Everybody. My baby starts Kindergarten today. We were lucky enough to get her into their all day program. So long daycare bill!!

Coming up:

My last day of work is Friday, after which I'm not back until September 5th.
My parents arrive Sunday. Hence the painting, cleaning, fence rebuilding and brick-laying and time off work. The new fence/gate is needed for Retro and the new dog, Dora (coming with my parents), who will be Amanda's.
We leave for Gillette, Wyoming and the wedding in a few days. We'll arrive the afternoon of the rehearsal, then dinner and the wedding the next day. I cannot WAIT to meet Deena and her family and pretty much have my 'speech' all wrapped up (except for the 'please don't let me cry' part).
After the wedding, we're going to join my parents, grandfather and uncle on a mini-tour of South Dakota. We'll swing through New Castle, Wyoming (major metropolis) on our way to Custer and then Mt Rushmore. We'll spend the night in Rapid City and then start back West. We'll pass through Sturgis and actually end up back in Gillette before we turn South for home.
My brother in law has given me my next writing assignment: something light from the perspective of the 'civilian' for his Trooper newsletter/magazine. He said something about my being a good writer, which is like someone saying to you "Oh yeah, you're the funny one. Say something funny!". You appreciate the compliment but aren't sure you can live up to the pressure.

All this excitement is already causing me loss of sleep and panic attacks. Have I ever mentioned that I happen to be wound tighter than a spring? oooooooooooh yeah. By the end of next week, I'll make Shelley-Sue's Drama Queen tendencies look like a Zen Meditation.

I Want To Know

2007-08-01T21:26:00.000-07:00

I want to blog but my brain has serious "hamster on a wheel" syndrome (it won't shut up long enough for me to concentrate on one thing). I give up. Instead, here's a list of things I want to know. Feel free to answer any you like or add your own questions -- in other words, lurkers, I know you are there, please speak up, especially the one of you living in Alaska!

I want to know:

When did I learn how to figure the Lowest Common Multiplier to a string of numbers in my head? I know there was a point when I could not do this at all, I know approximately when I learned to do it on paper. When, exactly did I transfer this knowledge to my head?
Why can't I explain how I get the Lowest Common Multiplier in a way that makes any sort of sense to another rational adult?
Why is it that 12 people working in Las Vegas can't take as many calls per hour as nine people working in Temple, Texas?(this question, believe it or not is completely unrelated to the previous two)
Whatever happened to a 'free education system? I got the list of school fees for the kids today. Sheesh!
Speaking of fees: what exactly does the fee for Honor's English cover, considering that MadManda has to purchase separately each of the books she'll be reading in the class?
Where the heck is the Weight Loss Bandwagon? I swear I only got off it for a second; now it feels like it's MILES ahead of me.
Which artificial sweetener is Starbucks using in it's Sugar Free Cinnamon Dolce syrup?
Where are the executable CD's for my two Heroes of Might and Magic games have wandered off to?
Can I download songs sung by the King Kamehameha Children's Choir on iTunes?
(MadManda wants to know): Why is 'Superman' a butt head?
(Retro wants to know): Are you going to finish eating that?
(Will wants to know): Is riding on an airplane scary?
Is it Friday yet?

Little Things

2007-07-28T14:30:00.000-07:00

It's funny how the tiny things can make such a difference to us: the smallest irritation or perceived sleight can become worthy of hours spent whining and bitching (to ourselves or others). On the other hand, fifteen minutes spent in quiet meditation (or prayer, if that works for you) can bring us such peace, contentment and clarity; a small, inexpensive excursion you do for yourself, your partnership or your family can mean more (and be better remembered) than the Grand Vacation that cost a bazillion dollars and everybody argued the whole time.

Back on MSN I liked to periodically list the things that were making me happy. Here's my first "Little Things Making Me Happy" on Blogger

Meditation (what? You saw that coming? Ah. So much for subtlety): A quiet room, a quiet mind, sweeping out the cobwebs, draining out the boiling anger, letting in the sunshine, pulling up my own energy and that of the Source to calm me and give me purpose.
Music: iPod, live, sung to myself, on the computer, on the radio. Celtic, 'Spiritual', Rock, Country, Alternative. Music to fit (or change) my mood, makes me happy.
Small Rituals: Meditation, having a cup of tea in a cozy shop, scrubbing the heck out of myself in the shower, cleaning house (I do this one SO rarely!). Little rituals keep me grounded, centered, content.
Gratitude: saying thank you over and over again all day long. Thanks for things I take for granted: smooth highways and fast travel. Electricity, running water. Sunshine after clouds, rain after heat, spring after winter. Asking for what we need and getting it.. somehow, even when it seemed hopeless. Being gifted what I never knew I needed until somehow gave it to me without strings.
Children: five awesome people on their own journeys. It's a struggle and a pleasure but the joy of participating in their lives is never without reward.
Work: Learning a new function, pulling thousands of pieces of disparate material into a report tells us how we're doing, drawing a good wage(AND INSURANCE!) for a job I find challenging and enjoyable.
Learning: Picking a subject and finding out everything I can. Talking, reading, listening, watching and learning. Expanding my horizons.
Serendipitous Moments: The tea shop that I found on the net-- that wasn't open for another 30 minutes--just so happened to be located next to a spiritual bookstore that was, open, I mean. Finding just the right purse, after months of fruitless searching, when I took Cowboy someplace he wanted to go instead (and having it be 80% off too!). Moments that make me tingle make me happy.
Anticipation: The boys are going out to Washington to see my parents, my parents coming out here to see us, Amanda's dog arriving, back to school, my brother's wedding, my children and husband meeting my grandfather for the first time, our first ever (mini)vacation as a family to Rushmore after Alex's wedding.

What's making you happy? Sit quietly and think about it. If you can find nothing to be happy about, look for one small thing about which to be grateful. There is something, even if you have to dig. Hold it in your mind and feel other things you forgot start to occur to you. Revel in the knowledge that you are loved, somewhere. You are provided for, somehow. Feel yourself filled with a warm glow when you realize these things.

Use that energy.

Pass it on.

Harry Potter Post Number 7,450,560

2007-07-24T20:45:00.000-07:00

I'm wondering.. is this blog number seven hundred million about the final installment of Harry Potter? Probably. I told Caffeinated Librarian that I was blogging about HP, and so I am. Just like everybody else, damn it.

For those of you following along (snort.. all two of you), my book was actually in my mailbox when I wrote the last post. The story of how it arrived (and how Amazon needs to work on their communication skills), will have to wait. The book was in my hands Sunday morning; I finished it Monday evening.

My boss, recruited into Harry-0-philia partially through my efforts this winter, was disappointed I wasn't finished Monday morning. As he looked at my copy sitting on the Traffic desk, one could almost glimpse inner turmoil: was it a misuse of company time to send me to a conference room until I was finished with the book? Unless he reads my blog (Dan? are you out there?), he'll have to wait till tomorrow.

I'm not quite sure how to proceed, so I'm going to borrow a page from CL and use bullet points. I am NOT using my love of bullet points as an excuse (much...)

Serious spoiler warning. Huge. Big Huge Spoilers. Continue at your Peril.

Overall Impression/Rating: I liked it. I liked it for what it was; the end, the sewing up of the threads, the goodbye to old friends at the end of a journey. I felt the pacing was quick but not too quick to savor this last chance to look in on the Wizarding world. I knew there was a lot of death to this book going in, and believe Rowling's inscriptions (is that the right word for the poetry and the William Penn quote?) prepared us even more for this probability. I know what some might say about the ending/epilogue: unnecessary and sappy. I once complained to a literature professor how unfortunate I feel it is that all 'great literature' must be sad. I like happy endings. I think the young and young at heart will appreciate the epilogue because it answers the question all us happy ending types always ask: what happens after 'Happily Every After?'
Kleenex Count: I knew when Amanda cried straight on from 200 pages to the end of the book, that I was in deep owl droppings. I did not cry for Mad Eye; he's just not lovable enough. Now, if you didn't cry for Dobby, you are one hard hearted son of a biscuit. I bawled. I bawled for Fred, Tonks, Lupin and Collin Creevy. I am a crier, though, we've established. Tears also appeared when Scrimgeour brought Dumbledore's bequests to the kids, when Kreacher turned the corner, when Harry saw his parent's grave, Ron came back after running away, the kids listen to the radio show, Aberforth tells the tale of Ariana's death, Snape died, when Harry went through Snape's memories, Harry marched to his death surrounded by his dead loved ones and when Neville was the one to step up first against Voldemort. I'm still dehydrated.
The Vernons: It was obvious for at least the last two books that Petunia knew more about Wizards and the wizarding world than she let on. My personal theory was that Petunia was actually a squib, but I like Rowlings' explanation more. In the matter of Dudley's (partial) redemption, to me, one of the overriding themes of this book was a lost cause may become an ally (or maybe just slightly less of a loss) if shown kindess or respect. A nice life lesson.
The Malfoys: Did anyone else tire of the 'Maloys are being punished' story line that's dragged on for the last two books? Me too. You're Voldemort, for crepe's sake: you don't punish people. You PUNISH them, I felt it wasn't true to his style to leave them all alive. But anyway... Draco's refusal to ID the trio when they're brought to the manor went nicely along with Dudley's (tiny) act of kindness and the theme I mentioned earlier. Here, though, is another theme: once a selfish bastard, always a selfish bastard. That one tiny mercy doesn't make a lot of difference when the Malfoy parents were clearly looking out only for numbers 1, 2 and 3 alone. One can easily imagine they claimed (again) to have been Imperiused when the whole thing was over. I guess I just found a third lesson: give people the chance to redeem themselves but don't beat yourself up if they don't take it.
The Weasleys I (like Libby) had accepted that the Weasley clan would most likely sustain a major casualty in the war. I managed to delude (most of) myself into thinking George's ear was the casualty. In the back of my mind though, I kept thinking they were getting off easy. When Percy climbed through the cave opening, I knew we must be losing someone already in Hogwarts and my heart started breaking. I can't imagine Fred without George without Fred; it actually made ending the series that much easier. There can't be anymore books because there can't be stories with only George, not Fred.
Mrs. Weasley: So cool she gets her own bullet point! It may sound horrible, but I pictured a Jedi battle when Bellatrix fought Mrs. Weasley. Didn't prevent it from being frickin awesome. Rowling could not have chosen a better pairing: the woman who clearly never nurtured anything in her life against the wizarding world's best mom. That's right, we're moms. We can heal wounds and conjure up fabulous sauces, school supplies, new tennis shoes and money for field trips from nowhere. We can also kick serious ass!
Umbridge: There is something horrible about a person who fights evil with it's own weapons. When that same character can actually go along with evil because it serves her agendas, that's unspeakable. I think Umbridge is actually Rowling's scariest character because people like her exist.
Magical Creatures: There is a fundamental difference between Potter and the Death Eaters in the way they treat and view magical creatures. It magnifies the difference between the right way and the wrong. Harry buries Dobby because it's the right thing to do, not to make any kind of show. None of the Death Eaters would ever think to do that but sadly, neither did many other basically decent Wizards.
Becoming our Own Hero: There comes a time when we realize the people we idolized aren't so great after all. Harry's already done this but he's gone beyond. He takes it one step further by doing right where Sirius did wrong, Lily did, where Dumbledore did. He ends the book as his own man, surrounded by people who care about him but out of the shadow of his parent's sacrifice, even of his own place in destiny. We must all do this. Our heroes show us one part of the path, one way of doing things but sooner or later we find they have faults. We must find a way of becoming our own heroes, without need of fame or praise if we're ever to be really happy. I feel certain if Harry ended the book in front of the Mirror of Ariced, he would see only himself, just as he was. We should all be so lucky.

Amazon.com Bites and The Worst Writer's Block. Ever.

2007-07-21T18:22:00.001-07:00

My copy of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, which I dutifully preordered June 12 did not arrive today. I was dubious about ordering it this way in the first place, seeing how Manda and I skipped all the hub-bub of the last release and STILL had a copy in our grubby paws by 12:05AM (24hour grocery stores sell books, at a discount even!). Still, well-meaning coworkers and peer pressure got to me and I caved; I preordered.

Manda didn't. Instead, she dragged me to King Soopers at 11:30 for HER copy. I ended up there anyway; I should have just purchased the dag nab thing that way. I should have run to Sam's or Costco this morning and gotten it for $17.99 (and NO SHIPPING!). But nooooooo.. I have to be all '21st Century', Internet savvy, seduced by one coworkers' story that she actually received her copy of HP:ATHBP a whole day early.

Manda's on Chapter 11 and periodically gasps or laughs. It's torture.

I sent a very uncharacteristically un-world-peace-good-karma-pay-it-forward email to Amazon at exactly 7:15 pointing out that their delivery guarantee was as valuable as Confederate money.

It's a good thing my Pat did such a great job on my hair; otherwise the day might be a total loss.

As for the Writer's Block: my grandfather has asked me to speak at Alex's rehearsal dinner. It's something of a tradition for my father's side of the family to have a little speech, poem or song prepared for very special occasions. Sometimes my grandparents spent weeks getting it ready, sometimes they made the thing up in the middle of the event.

I spoke at my grandmother's wake and most of my family read my blog at least occasionally. I guess it's kind of a passing of the torch that Pop-pop has asked me to do it for Alex. Needless to say, I'm incredibly honored and touched. I'm incredibly proud of Alex and couldn't be more happy for him. Combine that with a history of saying exactly the very most WRONG thing at the worst possible times and.......

Forget Writer's Block. It's Writer's Mountain.

I know it's lame...

2007-07-14T06:52:00.000-07:00

I know it's lame, but a quiz related update is better than no update...

Which Family Guy Character Are You? (pics)
Stewie You are smarter than most of those surrounding you, yet it is wasted on heinous projects. You demand alot and kick ass when you dont get it.
Take The Quiz Now!	Quizzes by myYearbook.com

Somehow I saw this coming...

2007-06-21T21:19:00.000-07:00

Which Princess Bride Character are You?
this quiz was made by mysti

Courtesy of Aynde...

Also from Virus Head

2007-06-18T21:06:00.000-07:00

Your Greek Goddess Soulmate (With Pictures) Girls Only
Goddess Athena You are most like Athena. She was the divine sponsor of warriors and heroes, she introduced several of the arts and crafts necessary for civilization, and she represented wisdom. Obviously, the goddess played a prominent role in Greek mythology. The poet Hesiod states that Athena emerged from the head of Zeus; indeed, she sprang out fully grown and armed for battle. The idea that she was born from a male underscores her relationship with men, both divine and human. In the human realm, Athena consistently becomes a protector of heroes; while in the divine she completely avoids sexual liaisons with gods.
Take The Quiz Now!	Quizzes by myYearbook.com

What is your TRUE name?
Dagda The Irish-Celtic god of the earth and treaties, and ruler over life and death. Dagda, or The Dagda, (''the good god'') is one of the most prominent gods and the leader of the Tuatha D Danann. He is a master of magic, a fearsome warrior and a skilled artisan. Dagda is a son of the goddess Danu, and father of the goddess Brigid and the god Aengus mac Oc. The Morrigan is his wife, with whom he mates on New Years Day The Dagda is portrayed as possessing both super- human strength and appetite.
Take The Quiz Now!	Quizzes by myYearbook.com

What Mythical Creature Best Suites Your Personality?
Unicorn You are sweet and forgiving. People love you, there is no doubt about that. Keep it up and you will become Miss. Populartiy!!! You arn't timid and you let people know that in a nice way. Congratulations!!!
Take The Quiz Now!	Quizzes by myYearbook.com

What is your Spiritual gift?
Meduim You have a very special gift. You are a Meduim .....AMeduim is some one who can talk with spirit and bring peace to those who have lost loved ones and the loved ones they lost. This is a gift that you must use wisely and not take for granted.
Take The Quiz Now!	Quizzes by myYearbook.com

A GOOD RELIGION QUIZ
Hindu You are a Hindu. Beleiving in many different Gods, and reincarnation. If you are American and got this one, don't be scared. Look into it
Take The Quiz Now!	Quizzes by myYearbook.com

Which Tarot Arcana are You? (women)
World Completion, reward, assured success. Triumph in all undertakings. Arrival at the state of cosmic consciousness. Can mean also movement in one's affairs or travel.
Take The Quiz Now!	Quizzes by myYearbook.com

MMm... loving the last one. The very first reading I ever did (and come to think of it, the latest too) turned up this card in the Final Outcome position.

Speaking of, I had a Tarot reading done at the Ren Faire this weekend. It was the first time I let someone read for me. She spent an hour with me, working and talking. It was fascinating.

There was lots I have seen before in my own readings but also I learned a lot that I might not otherwise have seen with out help from an outside observer. By that, I mean that some cards I see all the time for myself turned up in familiar positions. However, there were some present in very (uncomfortably) accurate positions which I never have. Also, some recurring themes; a card that we get almost every time we read for MadManda came up in portion the reading concerning her specifically. COOOOOOL!

Best of all, she offered to send me some materials she used to use to teach _ for free_ and even sent me home with a book on Palmistry. It felt very much like a case of being led to someone who might help guide me in the next step on the journey. Wonder where I'm going next!

My Celebrity Lookalikes.

2007-06-16T20:49:00.000-07:00

Eric, does this mean you're going to start referring to me as Condi?

R.I.P. Crisis-A-Minute Christy

2007-06-15T18:50:00.000-07:00

A not-so secret nickname my parents gave me growing up. Didn't matter how big or small the issue was, for me, it was all about the drama. ALL about the drama. Every little setback was a major catastrophe, every minor obstacle an urgent crisis.

Ask my parents, or just check their phone records for calls at ungodly hours; the trend continued into adulthood. Ask my bosses, my husband, my ex-boyfriends and friends. It was a bad idea to put me in charge of the team Christmas decoration contest, much less expect me to do something like I did Tuesday. Three years ago, I'd have collapsed completely.

5:30AM Tuesday: I'm driving through rain, headed in to cover the Traffic desk for D, who is sick. It's my day off but with the Mandatory OT, I was scheduled to be at work anyway. It's too early to be going anywhere without coffee and I left the house without it.

5:45AM: Properly prepared with Starbucks, I get to the third floor. I start the process of logging into 3 computers, multiple data bases, programs and trackers, and setting up 4 monitors with multiple views of the same thing: who is doing what, where and how fast.

5:55AM: The business analysts just to the right of me are having trouble logging in to their phones. I can't log into the desk phone or my own extension. A quick check, nobody on the floor can log in to their phones.

5:57AM: The main Traffic desk downstairs confirms the phone servers for the entire building are out. May be related to the lightning strike that took out a tree near us the night before. I have three minutes before my people need to be on the phones or retail will grind to a halt and my company will begin losing thousands of dollars an hour.

Maybe during Cowboy's extended and repeated hospitalizations, I learned to deal.

I start making alternate plans. Mandatory OT means our two alternate sites may have people in their seats early. It'll be less than half our staff but something is better than nothing. I find out how to get our people credit for being here on time and get the word out through our leads. I send the hardest email of my career, to the sups, my managers and even the director, that our main site is down and we have no ETA on repair.

6:00AM: Sites T and V have people logged in! Not very many, but there aren't very many calls at six either and Tuesday is our slowest day of the week.

If sites V and T can receive calls, will they be our calls or the default? Two fast phone calls and I have my answer: the calls are (because my allocation did work) are for Credit issues. We're in business.

6:05AM: I have thirty agents here and nothing for them to do. Next plan: I have the leads get most people started on a web based training we all have to complete in the next two weeks. The rest I get into off-queue order processing.

6:30AM: Sup M arrives and joins the conference call I attended earlier. Our problem is minor compared to what all of the Collections groups are groing through. Back at the Ranch: The floor is quiet, everyone has something to do.

6:45AM: Have everybody log out, they're going to reboot the servers.

6:46AM: We select a few people to log in again. Log out. Log in. Log out. Log in. Scattered reports that they're getting Credit calls. Then Collections, Care.. Retention. Log out again. Log in... wait... success!

6:50 AM: We have the whole center log in, I set tentatively reset the allocation to give us the majority and pray. Agents sitting around the Traffic desk give me the thumbs up: it's Credit calls they're getting. Even better, we're operating at normal capacity within ten minutes.

A few minutes later, my screens go live and my magic call tracking eyes are back too. I send out a follow up to my earlier note: the issue is fixed, we're live and kicking; what's more, the issue cost us very little out of our SLA. Throughout the morning people stop by to thank me and I wonder what I did that was extraordinary.

It's not until I am driving home that I realize what I did: I handled a crisis. I stuck my finger in the damn and got everybody filling sandbags until the Army Corps of Engineers could arrive.

I guess she's gone. Rest in Peace, Crisis-A-Minute Christy.

The ABC's of Me

2007-06-15T17:44:00.000-07:00

From Aynde:
A - Attached or single? Attached for (knock wood) life to my Cowboy.
B - Best friend? Cowboy, Aynde and Cara.
C - Cake or pie? Cake! Anything Oooey Gooey and Fudgey!
D - Drink of choice? 32 oz of ice cold water with 1 tblspn of apple juice mixed in.
E - Essential item? Treo755p
F - Favorite color? Deep rich red
G - Gummi bears or worms? Bears but too many make me yak.
H - Hometown? Laramie, Wy.
I - Indulgence? Miso Soup, Sashimi and Tempura Nuri (that's calamari or SQUID if you REALLY want to know)
J – Jail? Er... technically, I have been arrested twice. For my dogs(long story both times). I have never been actually put in a cell, just processed and then released when I paid the over due fine.
K - Kids? 5! MadManda. SuperShel, WondrousWill, PrecociousPat and CommandanteCheryl
L - Life is incomplete without? Projecting positive energy and learning everything you can.
M - Marriage date? June 4th, 1994
N - Number of siblings? 1: Alex.
O - Oranges or apples? Apples. Granny Smith
P - Phobia/fears? Water. Deep, dark water.
Q - Favorite quote? All it takes is faith and trust. And a little bit of Pixie Dust.
R - Reasons to smile? Everything!
S - Season? In Texas? Fall in the Rockies.
T - Tag three. Cara, Virushead, MadManda
U - Unknown fact about me? I am allergic to pineapple.
V - Vegetarian or oppressor of animals? If They didn't want us to eat meat, They should not have made animals out of Meat.
W - Worst habit? Worrying about things I cannot control
X - X-rays or ultrasounds?? Mostly ultrasounds. Five babies. Lots of Jelly on the belly, see your baby on the telly!
Y – Can you Yo-Yo? No, yo?
Z - Zodiac? Pisces and BOY, am I!

Eric At Random: It's Meez!!

2007-06-13T13:50:00.000-07:00

Thanks Eric, for the link: Eric At Random: It's Meez!!

Ya know... sometimes these things don't get the fact that people come in different shapes. I'd rather be thinner, yeah, but this isn't a body type I'd ever choose for myself, not to mention that I'm not ashamed of how I am shaped right this second.

Also, it's more... er... Charmed than Bippity Boppity Boo and that's so not what I was going for and my kitchen has never EVER been this clean. That's what makes it a fantasy, I guess!

Meme-o-rama-apalooza-ganza

2007-06-12T20:03:00.001-07:00

*note the sarcasm in the title? I thought you might*

I pulled a few different Memes from The Daily Meme and tried each on recommendation of VirusHead.

From Tina's Tuesday:

Have you ever been on a diet? If so, when? Dozens! Starting from the time I was about eighteen, I believe.
What was the most pounds you have ever lost? Seventy-some. Fen-Phen. I gained back more than I lost. A lot more.
Are you currently on one now? If so, mention your stats (start, lbs lost, etc). I am not on a diet as there is no end to this journey. I'm changing my relationship with food and losing weight along the way. So far, I have lost 30 lbs since July, 2006 with help from WeightWatchers and Our Lady of Weight loss.

From That's My Answer

Can you name three albums you owned when you were younger than you’re embarrassed about now, but secretly enjoy?

1. "Annie." I brought it to music class 'show and play' every Friday of 4th grade when the cool girls brought in the soundtrack to Grease. All the way through H.S. the same girls never let me forget it. I still hate Grease.
2. A 45 of Madonna's "Material Girl". I didn't have the special adapter to play 45s on my record player so I had to weight the disc with pennies placed just right.
3. Every album Poison put out, on tape.

From Ten on Tuesday : Time to Brag: 10 Awesome Things About You

I'm a fabulous cook.
I'm stand-up comedy funny
I am the hottest (steadily slimming down) fat chick I know.
I have a natural, disgustingly sunny disposition.
(With apologies to YaNo..)I am a great hugger and collector of great hugs.
I have beautiful eyes.
I have sexy lips.
I give good phone.
I am naturally empathic.
I value diversity by nature, not popular trend.

By far the hardest one to do was the last.

We're taught from infant hood to wait for recognition from others; to avoid mentioning what we like about ourselves. It's rude, it's arrogant, boasting, we're told. Later, we're criticized for seeking the approval of others and not being content within ourselves.

Pretty hard to live up to, isn't it? People who love us and want the best for us unwittingly send us mixed signals.

There's a place in this world for healthy self esteem (key word: healthy) and step one is remembering to say nice stuff about yourself to yourself.

I'm taking a page from Jack Handy : I'm good enough. I'm smart enough and dog-gone it, people like me!

Must Be Our Lucky Day

2007-06-05T20:41:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was our 13th wedding anniversary. Cowboy and I celebrated w/ dinner at the Melting Pot. It's the third or fourth time we've gone to this particular locale; the restaurant was undergoing renovations on our previous visits but they were complete this time. The result was wonderful; the alcoved booths of the lower floors with have been duplicated throughout, creating an intimate and romantic atmosphere throughout. Soft lights, brick walls and velvet curtains wrap the diner in luxury and quiet. In addition, hand cast (therefore heatproof) tops adorn many of the tables; ours was glazed absolutely beautifully.

They changed the menu slightly; there's a new salad, also a new themed event, 'Fung Shui Fondue,' which has differing tiers going up with the quality of wine served. All this was sadly lost on the Cowboy and I as neither of us would know a good bottle of wine from Thunderbird, frankly. We enjoyed our Fondue Fusion cooked in the Coq au Vin without knowing what we were missing. We speared, dipped and flirted our way all the way through the chocolate-peanut butter dessert course, remembering along the way why it is that we work so well together, after all our ups and downs.

I feel bad that I forgot to wish Chris and Prudence a happy anniversary also, as Chris thoughtfully remembered Cowboy and me. Belated congratulations, you two!

Chris, as a kind of answer to your wedding post, a few tidbits about ours:

We were married by my Uncle, a judge in Fairplay, Colorado. At the start of the ceremony he told the assembled that the occasion actually marked two firsts for him. It was time a member of his family attended a marriage he performed as well as being the first (and only) time he presided over the marriage of a family member.
Our cake was baked in Laramie at Home Bakery, one of the oldest locally owned and operated businesses in town. I worked there around the same time I met Cowboy, when it was owned by a friend of the family. I only had the money for one layer, which I arranged for my parents to pick up and bring to Fairplay for the ceremony. They surprised me by purchasing a top layer for Cowboy and I to save for our first anniversary.
I wore a gorgeous peach maternity dress because I was pregnant with Will. Shelley-Sue (nine months)had a bottle just before and therefore slept through the ceremony. MadManda(who was 2 and a half) was supposed to be our flower girl but came down with a bad case of the bashfuls and opted to be held by Grandma Raspberry during proceedings instead. In this way, though, all three of our oldest children were present for the event.
I smiled (and cried) through the whole ceremony, while Cowboy frowned the whole time. I was worried that he was angry, but he later explained that he was just serious, because he felt that strongly about his vows. Oh and that he thought I looked like an angel when I walked out to meet him under the Aspen.
Both my mother and Cowboy's helped me get dressed and my mother in law lent me her wedding ring to wear as my something borrowed.
My aunt made us a lovely wedding picnic and my cousins Janet and Donna served as our wittnesses.
The pictures taken of Cowboy's grandma are the last ones of her attending a family gathering before her Alzheimer's Syndrome became too great for her to socialize.
My mother in law put together the flowers, which were breathtaking. Her only downfall is a slight tendency towards big arrangements. My bouquet could have served as a centerpeice in the dining room at Hearst Castle. But it was beautiful!
Cowboy's parents took the girls and my parents paid for our dinner at the Chart House but our honeymoon was delayed a bit. Cowboy's parents later sent us for a weekend at a bed and breakfast in Aspen.
We went to see a movie before picking up the girls the next day. I can't remember what movie but I clearly remember crying during the preview for Lion King. I'm such a sap!

Last year, my mother in law presented us with a wedding album she put together for us. Somehow, we never got around to it; our lives have been pretty hectic up to now. We look so YOUNG (and my hair is so BIG!), but so happy and so right. It's nice to know we still are.

snick THE FIZZ ahhh

2007-06-02T19:31:00.000-07:00

WHW made me think of it with this post about the Pop Aisle: in-search-ofsoda.

Faygo. One the tastes of summer from my childhood.

We drove to Michigan nearly every summer. Bucka (that's Grandma to you nonfamily members) always had a dozen bottles chilling in the garage fridge when we got there. We invariably restocked at least twice during the visit and even brought a case or two home to Wyoming with us after. Faygo isn't available in Wyoming.

Sweet sticky strawberry fizz; no one can be depressed while holding an ice cold bottle of Redpop. There are lots of other flavors but it's the one I remember, the one I could still taste if I thought about it hard enough. It'd be polite to say that the best thing about Michigan was my grandmother, and she was a great part, true. It's also true that my relationship with her was always rocky at best. The two best parts were (in the mind of and in order of importance to an eight year old): the rope swing hung from the very tippy top of the rafters and Faygo.

Several years ago Alex and a friend were back in Michigan. They were helping my parents clear up Bucka's estate and made a trip to a grocery store. "All of the sudden," Says Aaron, "Alex yells 'FAYGO! It's FAYGO!' I thought he'd lost his mind." Crazy yes, but my brother kept his wits about him long enough to bring a case back home with him.

Bucka is gone, her house sold. The old barn with the fabulous rope swing belongs to someone else. I relegated Faygo to the past along with all these and many other things; one of many sweet memories locked away in a part of me that no longer exists.

The buzz about The Fizz started with my kids. There's a new juice joint in this town, owned and operated by the parents of their classmates. Several weeks they started asking if they could stop by after school. The first visit produced rave reviews. We drove by a couple times and finally stopped by my first weekend off.

I came in for root beer. I'm something of a connoisseur and the place happens to feature a few dozen (yes, that's right dozen) varieties. The space was formerly a convenience store and the new owners have made good use of the glass refrigerator cases. Row upon row of good old fashioned glass bottles offer instant refreshment and a delicious predicament to a first time visitor. I thought I'd never be able to make a choice in the face of such excess. There really was no choice at all.

Amongst a collection just as impressive as the kids promised, a shimmer of bright summer red. It couldn't be the same stuff, could it? Probably just that sad imitation, Strawberry Crush or an off brand masquerading. A closer look and confirmation: the real, honest to goodness Faygo Redpop. There really was no choice at all.

Cowboy obstinately refused to let me buy a six pack. It is as good as I remember. I savored every sip and fought off greedy and curious kiddoes. You can't go home (or to Bucka's Michigan) again, but sometimes a tiny bit of the past comes to you instead.

Meme from Aynde who got it from Libby

2007-06-01T18:23:00.001-07:00

Meme-O-Rama

I bet it's been a year since I did one of these. The sheer length of this one should catch me up!

1. The phone rings; whom do you want it to be? My dad, calling just to talk.

2. When shopping at the grocery store, do you return your cart? If there's a cart corrall or if I didn't have to park in BFE. No cart corrall + parked in the next state: nope, sorry.

3. If you had to kiss the last person you kissed, would you? Over and over. She giggled when I kissed her tummy.

4. Do you take compliments well? I think so.

5. Do you play Sudoku? Online and handheld. I can't play on paper.

6. If abandoned alone in the wilderness, would you survive? I'd like to think so but I'm guessing I'd end up as bear food.

7. Do you like nipple rings? Uhhh.... I'm past the age when that would be a good idea. On a man? sometimes.

8. Did you ever go to camp as a kid? Yep. Fifth and 6th grade, plus Band Camp in HS. Also, my dad did a lot of work at UW Science Camp catering events, so I hung out there a lot as a kid.

9. If a sexy person were pursuing you, but you knew he/she were married what would you do? Gently but firmly say no. There is far too high a cost to such things for everyone involved.

10. Could you date someone with different religious beliefs than you? Cowboy finds it distressing when I date other men.

11. Do you like to pursue or be pursued? Both in equal portions.

12. Use three words to describe yourself at the moment: Engaged. Multitasking. Content.

13. Do any songs make you cry? This is an inherited trait. I got it from my mother. Beautiful music makes me cry. Happy music, sad music, whatever.

14. Are you continuing your education? Until I stop living.

15. Do you know how to shoot a gun? Country girl, of course! I'm a good shot too.

16. If your house were on fire, what would be the first thing you grabbed? Kids. Hubby's faster than I am anyway.

17. Who was the last person you shared a bed with? Cheryl and MadManda.

18. Whom do you text the most? MadManda

19. Favorite children’s books? Where the Wild Things Are. If I Ran The Circus.

20. What color are your eyes? Greenish-blue today.

21. How tall are you? 5'3"

22. If you could do it over again, start from scratch, would you? Not if I had to give up one person I have loved.

23. Any secret admirers? If I knew about them, they wouldn't be secret, now would they? Of course I do!

24. Have you ever taken pictures in a photo booth? No. I should try that someday.

25. Where is the farthest place you have traveled? In real life? Oahu. In meditation? The stars!

26. Do you like mustard? Dijon and honey-dijon. Yellow and Spice = Ew.

27. Do you prefer to sleep or eat? Eat. No question.

28. Do you look like your mom or dad? I am a Wolf in everything but my eyes. I look like my dad, my aunt Susie and my greatgrandmother Miriam. Except the eyes.

29. How long does it take you in the shower? Seven to ten minutes.

30. Can you do splits? Ever since I was very young.

31. What movies do you want to see right now? Shrek the III, the BBC version of Hamlet I have coming from Netflix. Too many to mention this summer.

32. What did you do for New Year’s Eve? Got to bed by 10 so I could get that 2.5x OT pay the next day.

33. Was your mom a cheerleader? She'd be insulted by the very suggestion.

34. Whats the last letter of your middle name? E

35. How many hours of sleep do you get a night? Six or seven.

36. Do you like Care Bears? Nope. Too sweet and from me, that's saying something.

37. What do you buy at the movies? Bucket O'Popcorn and Bucket O'Pop to share w/ Cowboy.

38. Do you know how to play poker? Several different kinds but I am a horrible liar and should never try to bluff.

39. Do you wear your seatbelt? Not as often as I should.

40. What do you wear to sleep? My pretty lavender satin nighty

41. Anything big ever happen in your town? Town or Hometown? My town was the site of one of the country's worst school shootings. As for Laramie: ever heard of Matthew Shepard? We're not all gay bashing hicks, contrary to media coverage.

42. Is your hair straight or curly? Wavey

43. Is your tongue pierced? ouch. No.

44. Do you like liver and onions? Confession: never had them. Bigger confession: probably won't try them.

45. Have you ever been in love? Many times.

46. Do you like funny or serious people better? Funny.

47. Ever been to L.A.? I think Anaheim may be the closest I've been.

48. Do you steal or pay for your music downloads? I SHARE, thank you. But no, actually I buy nearly everything I have.

49. Do you hate chocolate? What kind of a dumb question is this? Obviously trying to fill up space. Pshaw! (I LOVE chocolate)

50. What do you and your parents fight about the most? Whether or not I am a screw up, whether or not I think that they think that I think I'm a screw up.

51. Are you a gullible person? I am trusting but not gullible.

52. If you could have any job, what would it be? Fairy Godmother.

53. Are you easy to get along with? Nope. High Maintainence but I give as good as I get.

54. What is your favorite time of day? Early morning or late at night when I have the house to myself.

55. Are you a generally happy person? I refuse to be unhappy for long. I will find a reason to be happy even if I have to work at it.

*pant pant*

Incidentally, I pressed the wrong key and had to do this twice. I STILL have an hour to go before I get to go home.<

Further Evidence of My Decline

2007-06-01T04:38:00.000-07:00

Last year I wrote about becoming one of 'those people' (meaning a Coloradoan, mostly). If you're just joining me, or if you're forgotten, a link: Mourning for my Wyomingiteness

It hasn't gotten any better. I really am one of those people now, with some glimmers of the redneck I was underneath it all.

I am a gadget-a-holic, as evidenced by recent acquisitions:
- A new laptop and extra memory for said laptop

- A Sprint wireless internet card w/ USB adapater

- A Motorola Q

And finally, deciding that the Q was only a neo-gadget, it's been handed down to MadManda (who conveniently destroyed her Blue Katana by starting a water fight w/ Cowboy while carrying it in her pocket)
- A Treo755p in Burgundy

This is, of course, in addition to my 'old' phone, the i870 by Nextel

Happy (thought slightly guilty) sigh...

Where has the redneck gone, you say? She's still here, under all the sophistimicated database maintaining/report creating glamour. I have proof, though I'll spare you any pictures you might find disturbing.

The elk were moving from the lower meadows up into the high country last weekend. A dangerous trip at any other time, it was particular rough during the first weekend of the summer. More than one elk vs man accident claimed the life of one of these great animals last weekend. My brother in law, as a Colorado State Patrolman, was required to work every day of the holiday weekend and happened to be present at one of these incidents.

While it is sad to see anything die after being hit by a car; a practical, unabashed-though-slightly-citified redneck might inquire: what happens to the carcass? Nearly 200lbs of meat shouldn't go to needless waste! Usually, some helpful (hungry) passing motorist volunteers to take care of that problem. Cowboy and I have actually waited several years for the opportunity to get in on the action.

Now, you sophisticated city folk may be sitting at your computers with horrified looks on your faces at the very thought. Consider this: what could be more earth-friendly, practical and efficient than to make use of what would otherwise go into some landfill to rot? I think my native American brethren would approve: if the animal is going to die either way, better that it's death serve a purpose. Filling my freezer and feeding seven hungry souls seems a noble purpose indeed.

As a kid growing up in Wyoming, I helped my parents raise many different kinds of animals for food. It might seem heartless to those who have always procured their dinner from neat packages in grocery stores but there is a feeling of accomplishment when you have worked for months to raise and care for what you're eating.

Hunting for game is an accomplishment in itself. In my part of the world, we still remember that hunting is honorable work when the animal is used properly: as food, not just a prize. Man has removed nearly all the animals that preyed upon these great beasts. Without hunting by man, the species would overpopulate and become subject to starvation and disease. It's not the same, of course, in this case but in the great scheme of things, making use of the animal still serves a purpose.

It's also not as simple a thing as you might imagine; there's quite a bit of very dirty, nasty, smelly, dirty work involved in the process, not to mention some quick thinking and phone calls to local game-processing butcher shops. Just getting a carcass this size off the ground and into a vehicle is a procedure in itself.

We got a call from D Saturday evening: if you want one, we've got one, but you need to come now.

Unfortunately for us, we didn't move quickly enough. As mentioned before, a passing motorist volunteered and a Trooper who didn't know we were on our way allowed them to take the elk. No hard feelings; we were really playing the part of scavengers in this scenario and the first rule of scavenging is 'first is first.'

Most days I feel completely urban, from the top of my sophiscatedly cut, colored and high-lighted hair to the tips of my professionally pedicured toes. I think it's a testament to how deeply my country-girl goes that in one quick minute I transformed into something else: a woman prepared to have a dead elk on a tarp in the back of her Suburban but later, a woman with a couple hundred pounds of low-fat, range-fed meat in her freezer.

That someone else claimed the right is disappointing, but not terribly so. After all, I can still visit my local butcher or grocery store for a fine cut of beef instead. On one point, though, I did find myself sighing wistfully. With the loss of the opportunity also went another possibility: months worth of 'roadkill for dinner' jokes!

I'm Not Fooled About This Either

2007-05-30T21:04:00.001-07:00

Someone in my department thinks it makes crappy news less crappy to give it snappy name. Snappy is a subjective term. Often, the only subject who really finds such things snappy is the person doing the snapping. Unfortunately, no one has adequately explained the concept of treating adults like adults to our management staff. We are still talking about the company that sponsored a death march in 100+ degree heat last year and called it a "team builder."* Thus, everytime management announces mandatory overtime they call it something like "Overtime Blitz", "OT Bonanza" and the latest "Overtime-A-Palooza."

We're not fooled people. Mandatory overtime with a (not-so) snappy name is still overtime that is - wait for it- mandatory. If my employers put it out as a business need and didn't try to dress it up, they might find us less resentful. When people grumble about the latest, it's not generally the number of hours we're asked to contribute, it's the stupid names and activities that put a bad taste in our mouths.

Supervisors and production managers of call centers, factories or production floors, just a tip: ice cream and balloon animals are great. At a kid's birthday party. A handshake, that ever welcome time-and-a-half on our paychecks, and if you must, grown up snacks (PLEASE GOD, NO MORE BUBBLE GUM!!!) are much more appropriate for adults. On behalf of Skilled Non-Exempt Employees everywhere: thank you and good night.

Oops. I almost forgot: The question on the 'management performance assessment' you are filling out which pertains to grammatical and spelling accuracy contains a typo. Coincidence or irony?

*For reference: http://shortfatmama.spaces.live.com/blog/cns!91AA1DCBA39C409C!1211.entry

Everybody Wins (Except That They Don't)

2007-05-29T21:17:00.001-07:00

It's a big week around here. The. Last. Week. Of. School. This is the week Sk8trboi has his 'Continuation' ceremony in celebration of moving from Elementary School to Jr. Hi. MadManda's cramming for finals. Thursday, Miss M goes on the class trip to an amusement park and tonight she had her Class Unit's awards ceremony.

This is a week that is bound to make me angry. This week I have already watched one child and will doubtless watch another participate in a gathering in which all children are supposed to be honored. What I will see instead is a program in which the same half dozen kids are recognized, some receive token acknowledgement and others are almost completely forgotten.

Here's my rant: if you are going to reward excellence and excellence only, then do so. Put together an event where you stress and reward those who have put in the time and effort and who have earned recognition. I respect that. However, if you are going to design (and advertise)a ceremony where everybody is recognized, even if their performance may honestly be mediocre; make darn sure you recognize everybody.

Please DONT pretend to recognize everybody when you aren't. Don't give out 'awards specially designed for each child' when 75% are fill-in-the-blank participation certificates and the other 25% are not-so-thinly-veiled awards for being popular. Please DONT put together a PowerPoint slide show that you call Class Memories when what you really mean is Memories of the Cool Kids with some Partially Visible Nerds/Geeks/Weirdos/Losers Thrown In Because We Have a List We Have to Complete. We know the score, so please don't humor us. Please don't insult us by designing fake awards ceremonies and then go on to recognize only those who fit whatever image it is you happen to like this week.

If you want to reward excellence, by all means do so. No one questions a champion's right to be recognized for their hard work and dedication. If, however, you are presenting something as all-inclusive, please insure you include everybody. It might not seem like much but try explaining the difference to the kid you forgot.

Anyone feel like buying me a house?

2007-05-28T10:39:00.000-07:00

Only three quarters of a million dollars, American. A bargain, really!

Think of the magic one could make. I bet it's soaked into the walls.

http://www.chagford.co.uk/fowchag10.html

Nice to dream, isn't it? Meanwhile, back at home, I forgot how green it is here in early summer.

Memorial Day as Labor Day

2007-05-26T08:02:00.000-07:00

I am not a popular person in my house today. It's a good thing I don't put much stock in popularity compared to a clean house. I appreciate that it's a holiday weekend; the way I see it, the long weekend means we have time to clean AND time to play. Works out well, doesn't it?

Needless to say, the younger members of my household don't appreciate my view of things. I understand; I remember lots of weekends spent with brooms, mops and resentment towards the evil grown ups enslaving me. I sit here today as proof that a young person can go on to have a happy life even if their parents made them clean when they'd rather be doing something else.

The Cowboy is another story. He used his superior hint-ignoring capability to escape in search of gentle water and hungry trout. My mother taught me never to wish harm on others, but if you must, you might think to yourself that it wouldn't be so bad if they were inconvenienced as a kind of karmic return. It'd be too bad if Cowboy got sunburned or if there were mosquitoes out this morning.

Maybe he'll feel really bad when he comes home and everyone else has worked hard to clean. Maybe he'll be driven by his guilt to do the yardwork he's been putting off. Maybe he has a secret stash of money and he'll be compelled to sweep us all off for a luxury end to a weekend of hard work.

And maybe my next car really will be a broom!

ShortFatMama Evolving

2007-05-11T21:22:00.000-07:00

Over a year ago, I made the switch from Blogger to MSN's Spaces because that's where Cara and Aynde were. Along the way I met Mocha, Eric, Chris, Catholic Mom, the Librarian and many many more. I had a great time, was even featured on MSN's home page once for a week. Then everybody started moving back to Blogger and my bosses blocked my connection to Spaces. I guess they wanted to know they were paying me to work, not blog. How unoriginal!

I haven't updated http://shortfatmama.spaces.live.com/ since January and to be honest, I feel it's largely because I have moved past her persona. I'm done identifying myself soley as a fat chick; it's a vicious circle. I talk about myself as a fat girl, I AM a fat girl. No More.

Some months ago, if you read me before you knew I had joined Weight Watchers and begun a new journey to smaller pant sizes. I'm still working on that goal. Frankly, there are many days when all I want is someone to show me where the zipper is on my fat suit. Most days are just about taking the next step in the path, making the vision a reality through actions and thought. I talk about myself as a shrinking girl, I think shrinking thoughts, take other steps in a shrinking direction and low and behold... I really am shrinking. Visualization. It's scarey stuff, folks.

So here I am, the phoenix rising from the ashes of the fat lady. I look good in orange, don't I?

But it hasn't only been about my need to move away from Short Fat Mama and into MamaChristy, Fairy Godmother To Be. I have been hiding out for another reason. I took another step, one that I am not sure the very spiritual people I like and respect around the blogsphere will support. I hope they will, I hope they'll respect my choice to explore as I respect theirs to stand by a faith that works for them. I have begun exploring alternate religions and am finding much joy, enlightenment and yes, magic of a positive sort in the experience.

Over a year ago I read a book that made me feel I wanted to become a godmother to others. I wanted to live my life in a way that would have a magical, positive affect on others. It's this journey, and life along the way that will make up my blog from here.

I will not be posting on http://shortfatmama.spaces.live.com/ after this. I have moved back here to blogger but am starting fresh. Similiar name, different vein. If you liked MamaChristy before, good. She's still here, there's just less (and more) of her to like!