BIzarre
Probation for short sex offender sparks debate
2 things about this story really weird me out. Can you guess what they are?
A time and a place...
Also spent 5 days in my mother's company. Now, I love my mother, but I haven't spent 5 straight days in her company since I moved out in March, 2001. It was difficult to hold my tongue a few times. I have a top 5 list of my favorite quotes made by my mother that over the weekend. I won't bore you with all of them, but I will share the number one quote:
"Do you ever feel like people are staring at your cleavage?"
Let me explain:
I was dressing for the graduation ceremony and the reception to follow in the Chemistry department for the graduates. I bought a new dress for the occasion. Cute thing, fell just below my knee, fitted but not too fitted in all the right places. And a bit of cleavage. I looked great, if I do say so myself and I will, since no one else bothered to all day.
My cleavage was not "in your face." I wasn't pouring out of my dress. That is to say, I wasn't tartin' it up. I looked respectable. Respectable enough that I planned to wear the same dress to an awards banquet at work a few days later (and I did.) Yet, my mother felt my cleavage was over the top, so to speak. She then went into this bit about there being a time and a place to show cleavage---not at church, school, work...and apparently not a graduation ceremony in Georgia where the people behind us were eating popcorn and M&Ms during the commencement address. (Which to me is a far more inappropriate, but hey, what do I know?)
She never did say when it is appropriate to show a little cleavage. Frankly, I think she's jealous.
2 more Mondays
Not a lot has changed. The Wonder Dog has been more lovey late, but that's about it. Poor kid needs a haircut, I'm starting to lose sight of his eyes under all the hair.
Anyway, I'm alive, just busy. Wanted to touch base....I promise a real post soon.
Regrets
Woke up this morning thinking about my most recent regret. I suppose I shouldn't feel too bad about it, seeing as how I was not privy to all the information regarding this person, but I feel bad anyway. Not sure which bothers me more---the fact that what happened happened at all, or that the circumstances were more delicate than I knew at the time.
Regardless, I shouldn't have done what I did. I know that. All the explanation in the world won't change that.
So, why do I want to do it again?
Two sites
Book a Minute
Movie a Minute
Check out, specifically, the War and Peace condensed version. Too funny.
Two Choices
What would you do? You make the choice! Don't look for a punch line; There isn't one! Read it anyway. My question to all of you is: Would you have made the same choice?
At a fundraising dinner for a school that serves learning disabled children,the father of one of the students delivered a speech that would never be forgotten by all who attended. After extolling the school and its dedicated staff, he offered a question:
"When not interfered with by outside influences, everything nature does is done with perfection. Yet my son, Shay, cannot learn things as other children do. He cannot understand things as other children do. Where is the natural order of things in my son?"
The audience was stilled by the query.
The father continued. "I believe,that when a child like Shay, physically and mentally handicapped comes into the world, an opportunity to realize true human nature presents itself, and it comes, in the way other people treat that child."
Then he told the following story:
Shay and his father had walked past a park where some boys Shay knew were playing baseball. Shay asked,"Do you think they'll let me play?" Shay's father knew that most of the boys would not want someone like Shay on their team, but the father also understood that if his son were allowed to play, it would give him a much-needed sense of belonging and some confidence to be accepted by others in spite of his handicaps.
Shay's father approached one of the boys on the field and asked if Shay could play, not expecting much. The boy looked around for guidance and said, "We're losing by six runs and the game is in the eighth inning. I guess he can be on our team and we'll try to put him in to bat in the ninth inning."
Shay struggled over to the team's bench put on a team shirt with a broad smile and his Father had a small tear in his eye and warmth in his heart.
The boys saw the father's joy at his son being accepted. In the bottom of the eighth inning, Shay's team scored a few runs but was still behind by three. In the top of the ninth inning, Shay put on a glove and played in the right field. Even though no hits came his way, he was obviously ecstatic just to be in the game and on the field, grinning from ear to ear as his father waved to him from the stands.
In the bottom of the ninth inning, Shay's team scored again. Now, with two outs and the bases loaded, the potential winning run was on base and Shay was scheduled to be next at bat.
At this juncture, do they let Shay bat and give away their chance to win the game? Surprisingly, Shay was given the bat. Everyone knew that a hit was all but impossible 'cause Shay didn't even know how to hold the bat properly, much less connect with the ball.
However, as Shay stepped up to the plate, the pitcher, recognizing the other team putting winning aside for this moment in Shay's life, moved in a few steps to lob the ball in softly so Shay could at least be able to make contact. The first pitch came and Shay swung clumsily and missed.
The pitcher again took a few steps forward to toss the ball softly towards Shay. As the pitch came in, Shay swung at the ball and hit a slow ground ball right back to the pitcher.
The game would now be over, but the pitcher picked up the soft grounder and could have easily thrown the ball to the first baseman. Shay would have been out and that would have been the end of the game.
Instead, the pitcher threw the ball right over the head of the first baseman, out of reach of all team mates. Everyone from the stands and both teams started yelling, "Shay, run to first! Run to first!" Never in his life had Shay ever ran that far but made it to first base. He scampered down the baseline, wide-eyed and startled.
Everyone yelled, "Run to second, run to second!"
Catching his breath, Shay awkwardly ran towards second, gleaming and struggling to make it to second base. By the time Shay rounded towards second base, the right fielder had the ball, the smallest guy on their team, who had a chance to be the hero for his team for the first time. He could have thrown the ball to the second-baseman for the tag, but he understood the pitcher's intentions and he too intentionally threw the ball high and far over the third-baseman's head. Shay ran toward third base deliriously as the runners ahead of him circled the bases toward home.
All were screaming, "Shay, Shay, Shay, all the Way Shay!"Shay reached third base, the opposing shortstop ran to help him and turned him in the direction of third base, and shouted, "Run to third! Shay, run to third" As Shay rounded third, the boys from both teams and those watching were on their feet were screaming, "Shay, run home! Shay ran to home, stepped on the plate, and was cheered as the hero who hit the "grand slam" and won the game for his team.
"That day," said the father softly with tears now rolling down his face, "the boys from both teams helped bring a piece of true love and humanity into this world."
Shay didn't make it to another summer and died that winter, having never forgotten being the hero and making his Father so happy and coming home and seeing his Mother tearfully embrace her little hero of the day!
AND, NOW A LITTLE FOOTNOTE TO THIS STORY: We all send thousands of jokes through the e-mail without a second thought, but when it comes to sending messages about life choices, people think twice about sharing. The crude, vulgar, and often obscene pass freely through cyberspace, but public discussion about decency is too often suppressed in our schools and workplaces.
If you're thinking about forwarding this message,chances are that you're probably sorting out the people on your address list that aren't the "appropriate" ones to receive this type of message. Well, the person who se nt you this believes that we all can make a difference. We all have thousands of opportunities every single day to help realize the "natural order of things." So many seemingly trivial interactions between two people present us with a choice: Do we pass along a little spark of love and humanity or do we pass up that opportunity to brighten the day of those with us the least able, and leave the world a little bit colder in the process?
A wise man once said every society is judged by how it treats it's least fortunate amongst them.
Someone please explain this to me.
Case in point:
Today, I learned that English college class was watching an episode of Seinfeld during the class. It was the basis for their essay on drama.
Let me put it another way: Their essays were to be about drama as depicted in Seinfeld episodes.
I'm so confused. How is Seinfeld drama? Why would a college Composition & Rhetoric class be writing a paper on the drama in a sitcom?
Why does someone think that this is worth AP credit, when the AP class (all 2 of them) is writing critical surveys of Shakespeare and Chaucer? Granted, they may never need the critical knowledge of those 2 again in their lives, but really, how's Seinfeld any more applicable?
I just don't know...
Serial killer nurse allowed to donate kidney
Maybe I'm being a bit too silly, but I'm not so sure I'd want any sort of organ from a convicted serial killer. Seems to me it would be inviting bad karma.
Not that I really understand this whole "karma" concept. So, in an effort to educate myself and, thus, you dears, I've done some reading.
Check this one out. Yahoo!'s new AskYahoo! feature is pretty cool. Ask a question, and a team answers it. Can be as far-fetched as you can dream.
Anyway, karma is basically the idea that every thing you do, good or bad, will cause a reaction in your future. The good things you do will return good things, the bad things will return bad. Easy enough, right? Well, dig a bit more--it's also about intention. If you meant for your actions to be negative, then you'll get negative reactions. If your actions wound being beneficial to others, but you hadn't intended that or don't know it's happened, then you don't bank good karma.
Would the (intentional) sins of the hand be visited on the kidney? (I know, that's a little dramatic sounding, but, oh well.)
Sorry, my train of thought is a little weird sometimes.
Wasting away again...
No, wait. I see it sitting on the bar. Damn. Wonder if this is the morning The Force will kick in for me. Hold on...almost...there......ugh. No. Be right back.
Aahh...much better. Now that the sleep fuzzies are starting to clear, I'm ready for you guys. Question is, are you ready for me? *giggle* Whatever, right?
Anyway, as I sit here on the couch, watching the " women in trouble/are trouble" channel (a.k.a. Lifetime Movie Network), I'm perusing the news again. Let's see what I can glean today.
On the MSN front page...
The first thing that jumps out at me on the MSN page is never the revolving square with the the picks of the day. Instead, it's the text links just below (I'm sure I'm a marketing nightmare).
Today, the headline "Naval sex cases rarely tried" catches my eye right off the bat. Maybe it's because I'm still half-asleep, but the first thought in my head was "Naval? How in the world do you do that? I must read this story and found out more." Apparently, it's about sexual assault (rape) cases at the Naval Academy and other universities. Now, I'm not a journalist, just a lowly librarian/English major, but I'm thinking that headline would definitely win some award on the UIL circuit.
Hm, the "Suggested Searches" list always intrigues me. This morning it lists Mount Vesuvius and the infamous Neverland Ranch. Wonder how those two made it on the same list?
On Yahoo! News...
Strippers Win Right to Meal Breaks, OT (Australia) Did you know strippers had unions? And apparently the Australian union lobbies for better working environments. This got me though--"Its members are believed to work mainly in strip bars and as erotic dancers." Obviously, I don't know much about this profession. Other than bachelor parties, what other venues are there for strippers to work?
Man Says Stripper Delivered a Rob-O-Gram Man opens door to leave for Bible study. Met at door by woman who says she's there to deliver a strip-o-gram ordered by a friend. Man says "sure, go ahead (I can be late to Bible study, right?)." Another man barges in with a knife claiming homeowner owes money for earlier services--man agrees and says he owes money for "sex one time" but not the other time when she fell asleep first. I sure hope he's spending more time in Bible study--apparently he needs it.
Police Rescue Moose Tangled in Swingset The end of the story says that the moose walked away without looking back. Can't you just hear his thoughts "Geez, I hope none of the guys saw me, I'll never hear the end of it."
Man Wins 'Rock, Paper, Scissors' Contest And now he's off to a national tournament in Vegas. What in the world?
Mayor Wants Nude Cycle Race Called Off In this New Zealand town, apparently, exposing your self falls short of an offense, so they can't call the race off on account of visible hoo-hahs (and the children that might see them). Instead, they're going after racers for not wearing helmets while cycling--which apparently is an offense. Thank goodness we have standards, friends.
On a different note...
There's a reality show about cheerleaders? Why?
So, there it is. A pot (4-cup) of coffee and 90 minutes later and I've reviewed things that made me stop. Yes, I read other, "important" news (I'm not a rube. Not so much anyway.)
Enjoy your Saturday.
Quietly sexy
A few years ago, when R and I were dating, he and his dad apparently had a conversation about me. The sum of the conversation was that I'm sexy, without being ostentatious or "in your face" sexy. My sexiness is implied, quiet.
It's not a fabulous story, but that's my understanding of what they meant.
Made me feel good, especially since I don't often think of myself like that.
Piemonade
I was thinking about it today. It's a Tuesday, and I don't like Tuesdays. So, I decided to do as much as I could so the day would at least feel productive. Kinda nice, actually. Really did get a lot accomplished.
In the back of my mind was "piemonade." Obviously (I hope), it's a made up word. How come we don't do things like this more often--create words out of necessity of the context we're working in? It seems so silly that so many people lock themselves into the accepted language/vocabulary. Children do this all the time..they make the word fit the moment, not hunt the pre-existing words that don't really do the moment justice like adults do.
That's what is supposed to be fun about language--that you can play with it. You shouldn't have to master it in order to screw with it a bit. Feeling and being should be prerequisite enough for making the language fit you, not vice versa.
Aw, hell...have fun. And eat some piemonade.
Tuesday...ugh
1. They aren't Mondays. I actually kind of like Mondays. I like to look at the list of all the things I need to do during the week and make a dent. Tuesdays aren't like that. I guess because I've already started.
2. They aren't Wednesdays. Wednesday is half-way through the week. You know Hump Day.
3. They aren't Thursdays, complete with the "just one more day" feel.
4. They aren't Fridays. TGIF, need I say more?
5. They aren't weekends. Do I have to explain this?
Fear
It's not hard because of the story line itself. Well, it is that...partially because it's the hot guy in this box. But this one pulls up two of my biggest fears--the dark and enclosed spaces.
I know I'm 29 years old and shouldn't be afraid of the dark, but it doesn't work that way. I've never been able to explain it, and probably never will. But, I've got a nightlight in my bedroom (though it is one of those blue lights that's really soft..I just have to have a touchpoint) and never, ever enter a completely dark room alone. If I can't see what's in there or coming at me, I'm not going in. I realize that might make me look paranoid, but I don't particularly care.
The enclosed space thing is probably more common in adults. Claustrophobia. I don't do well in any situation where I'm feeling confined. Elevators are just barely tolerable, if they're mostly empty or I'm within touching distance of someone I know. Large groups are torture--close quarters and strangers touching me, ugh. I'd always just laughed it off, until December. I was having some breathing/lung capacity tests run. It involves being in a small (Plexiglass) vacuum chamber in order to have me breathe into a machine. Two things got me as soon as the door was closed. I was sitting on this stool and the respiratory therapist's voice came from a hole just behind my head (speaker). That meant I was in a sealed container. And then, I realized that my arms were touching the walls of the chamber. That set me on edge. I'm halfway through the first (of three) stages and I shoved the door open. The therapist jumps and tells me to leave the door closed. Told him that wasn't happening.
Ugh..there's thirty minutes left. Even knowing he makes it through, I'm just sitting on the edge of my seat.
Bigfoot, Sasquatch...whatever
I'm not so sure I'm willing to believe in this stuff. I'm pretty open-minded when it comes to bizarre things, but this might be too far-fetched even for me.
The people the Travel Channel story spotlighted are very into their Bigfoot research. Not only do they believe the creatures exist (and there are reported to be many, many of them), they often believe they have in fact seen irrefutable evidence of them, if not sighting an actual Bigfoot. They conduct investigations that seem rather scientific--evidence collecting, photographs, written reports when the investigation is finished. Good for them.
Regardless, watching the show prompted me to hit the Internet. Being a librarian, I live to research. Here are the two most interesting sites I ran across.
Bigfoot of East Texas ~~ This one neither instills confidence nor provides sufficient evidence that they aren't nutty. The reported sightings/hearings could be attributed to any number of un-fantastic things. Also, the pictures they've got posted don't show anything I haven't seen when I've moved branches and rocks around in the woods myself.
Texas Bigfoot Research Center ~~ Okay, these guys are better organized, they even host a conference every year. I think this is the group featured on the Travel Channel show, I recognize a couple of images that were flashed on the screen. Anyway, the site details handprint evidence, research studies, and has a pretty broad collection of sitings in Texas and surrounding states. (There was even a fairly recent report of a siting about 5 miles from my grandfather's place!) What I liked best though was the bit on photographs. These guys actually discredited some of the more "well-known" alleged pictures. Nice strategy--prove your own legitimacy by disproving someone else's.
I don't want to sound sarcastic or condescending. I'm sure these people are sincere in their belief/knowledge of Bigfoot creatures and their existence. I'm not. My inability to believe was actually supported by the Travel Channel's show. Everyone of the people they talked to in conjunction with the East Texas studies appeared to be what we call "good ol' boys" round here. Now, I may have missed the portion of the show where their credentials were detailed, but frankly I doubt it. I'll even go so far as to admit that maybe I'm being a bit stereotypical, if not a bit hypocritical, since so many of my friends and family members could be labeled good ol' boys and I happen to know they're intelligent and credentialed people.
Call me a sympathetic disbeliever.
My 2 cents
So, everyone's freaking out over Cheney. Of course, from what I can gather, in most arenas more are concerned that the American public didn't know until 15-18 hours after the event rather than the fact that he shot a man. Unless you happen to have lunch at my school. Apparently the laying of the blame was a HOT topic one day this week.
Who cares?
Please don't get me wrong--I'm sorry that the poor man was shot and subsequently suffered a minor heart attack. I mean, yes, hunting accidents are definitely a concern, but they happen. The majority of the time there is absolutely nothing newsworthy about them--they might garner a tiny blurb in the local paper. Certainly there's no reason to begin questioning the motives of the Cheney or the White House.
Had the man shot been a foreign dignitary that Cheney was entertaining and buttering up before some trade deal was negotiated, sure, I'd expect to hear about it on the news. But the man is an old friend. If the incident even merited news coverage, I can completely understand not publicizing it until being relatively certain that the man was okay.
There's nothing in stone that says a government official's personal life automatic property of the public and the media when he or she takes office. I realize that it does, de facto. That aside, absolutely nothing in the world should assume that the personal lives of their friends or colleagues should be public knowledge.
Aahh, Valentine's Day
And, it's not because I'm bitter about not having a man. Frankly, the last time I did have a man, I got roses for Valentine's Day. My question--why'd it take a commercialized holiday to get flowers? Not that I'm expecting anything any day of the year, but that's not the point.
So, in honor of this day, I'll share 2 sites with you.
One is purely silly.
The other is a little silly, but makes a valid point.
Enjoy!
PSA--This one's important
Here's the rest of the report from the UK's Office of Fair Trading.
I was going to post the link to the ad the loser had up--certainly sounded legitimate. However, the powers that be finally paid attention to a complaint, and deleted the ad and all things associated with the guy's ID. Woohoo.
Regardless, be careful, kids.
Easy like Sunday morning...
Did a run today. Sorta. It's not one of my "scheduled" days to run (those would be Sunday, Tuesday, and Thursday). I found this training schedule for "couch potato to 5Ks" on the web. I'm on week 2. It hurts sometimes (read "everytime"), but hell, it oughta be worth it in the end.
Anyway, I ran today 'cuz I knew it would feel good. And it did..once I got back and showered and rubbed my legs down.
The Wonder Dog and I have been lazing about the whole afternoon. Usually, I do that on Sundays, but we've got an event at church tomorrow, so I'll be lucky to see my home before 9 p.m. Today was just a good day to throw some bad television on and commune with the couch. At some point, I'll get up and get dressed to go out. Some friends of mine from high school are going t some karaoke thing tonight and invited me along. They think I'll join them onstage. Ha. I won't get that drunk. Not by a long shot.
So, I went grocery shopping in the rain last night. There's nothing quite like dashing from the car to the door of Wal-Mart in the rain. (The umbrella was left, with the other 3, in my office. One day, I'll remember to bring those stupid things home.) I dash in, and get a buggy, do a quick check of how bad I look in the mirror by the Maybelliene display. Crap..that's what I looked like. Actually, more like a drowned rat, but it's Friday at the Wal-Mart, who do I have to impress?
$175 (yikes!) and 1 hour later, I've been hit on twice. Apparently, drowned rat is attractive to biker redneck. Who'da thunk it?
Knowing
You know what really got me? In a ministry team meeting at church this evening, we did a quick, one-verse Bible study to close the meeting. We read Psalm 130:6...
My soul waits for the Lord more than watchmen wait for the morning, more than watchmen wait for the morning.
And, yes, we did discuss what that means--that what we wait for in waiting for God is ever so much more than what the watchmen who've been standing guard all night receive when the sun rises.
The last question though was "When do you consciously wait on the Lord?" I was reminded of another passage..."Be still, and know that I am God." (Psalm 46:10). I've never believed that the psalmist intended us to read those words as a whisper.
When do I consciously wait on the Lord? When He smacks me over the head and shouts "BE STILL."
Pressure? What Pressure?
I should count my chickens--I ain't got nothing like this poor woman.
Ahem...wtf?
Wonder what monastery under a vow of silence that dude's going to next.
Pondering
This is what gets me...apparently, the men's underwear market is not very dynamic.
How would you correct that?
Crazy Market
My counter quit working...and other shit
Soapbox
But, I've never applied it to what we do in church. I can certainly see how those 3 little words we hear so much in high school can be cross-applied to worship and Bible Study--"It's too hard." It certainly must be a factor in why so many don't attend church, it's simply not accessible to them at their level. And if we’re called to witness to the masses, then we must meet them at their level.
I’m not for dumbing down anything either. I just don’t think the answer to raising the intellect and coping skills of our society is to lower our expectations (that’s a teacher for ya, huh?). But, there are several accommodations we could be making.
I printed the article and used it in my debate class Friday. Granted, that class has the cream of the crop in it and they all are capable of grasping complex language. We talked about the implications of the study, then I asked them how they felt it applied to church. They agreed with what you and I said. Then, one made an interesting point—-all this is connected to Maslow’s hierarchy. The third and forth levels are love/belonging needs, and esteem needs. In a church context, if they don’t feel like they belong and can contribute, then faith and religion seem out of reach and they won’t stay. Faith and religion can be scary enough without us inadvertently excluding someone.
Okay…as I read over this before publishing it, I realize I not only crawled on my soapbox, but, also, maybe on my high-horse. Can you tell I just spent all weekend listening to and taking part in arguments on philosophy?
Decision
I want the man I marry to be a gymnast. Or at least be able to move like one.
Just think about it.
Hm.
From the London Times
Stress? Shhhh...
Seems to me, the librarians mentioned in the above article have more problems than working in a dull and monotonous environment. Maybe they need to invest in some of the "beer pills" Q's wife put him on.
Poetry
Emily Dickinson
Tell all the Truth but tell it slant---
Success in Circuit lies
Too bright for our infirm Delight
The Truth's superb surprise
As Lightening to the Children eased
With explanation kind
The Truth must dazzle gradually
Or every man be blind---
New Year's Resolutions
I meant to post yesterday, but sleeping late and eating with family, as well as the traditional New Year's Day nap took precedent. Ah well, those of you who are still around, will still be here today, right?
I don't make New Year's Resolutions. Sure, there's things I should quit doing, or alter about my life, but resolving to do them in my head, even putting them on paper or saying them out loud in the presence of someone other than the Wonder Dog won't make me do them. I know this for a fact, seeing as how I made resolutions up until 2003. Did I ever keep a one of them? Well, maybe the do more Bible study one, but not the others.
Instead, you may have noticed that I added a 43 Things list to my sidebar. These are the things I want to do in my life. There's no time limit (well, the turning 30 gracefully dream kinda does have to happen in 2006, since you only turn 30 once, thank God.). Just, at some point, I want to be able to say that I'm doing, have done, or am maintaining those things. Call 'em resolutions if you want. I see them as more of a "Things to do before I die" list. It's a revolving/evolving list.
Regardless, I hope your New Year's celebrations were wonderful. If you made some resolutions, that's great! Good luck on the road to meeting them (and I don't say that sarcastically, even though it sounds like I did in my own head.).
From Dave Barry's Blog..
I was...um....fortunate (maybe)...to have one of these a few weeks ago. 2 of them, actually.
I wanted to die afterwards. For the record, they absolutely DO NOT MIX with anything else, and certainly not anything spicy.
My head's hurting just thinking about it.
Bewildering
Pack of Angry Chihuahuas Attack Officer
First, there's whole "chihuahuas attacking officer" bit. I mean, that's just funny. I can envision the ribbing he'll get for days to come. And can't you just hear the conversation with a grandchild one day?
"Grandpa, were you ever shot at while working?" (obviously, the boy's totally in awe of the whole "grandpa was a cop" thing.)
"No, kiddo, but I was once viciously attacked."
"Really, Grandpa?? What happened???"
"Well, I had to take a boy home after he'd made some bad choices while driving. Just as we reached the door of his house, all this loud noise started up. I drew my gun, ready to meet the attacker head-on. When the door opened, out rushed FIVE attackers. I couldn't do anything to protect myself against those odds."
"Were you hurt?"
"Yes...I still have the scars. See? Right here on my ankle, you can still see the teeth marks. It was horrible I tell you, just horrible."
Hehehe...
The other bewildering story is at the end of the article. Woman calls in 2 hours before the attack above to report that someone has broken into her home and put porn on her computer. Now, no other damage was done, nobody was hurt, nothing taken.
I can't even begin to comment anymore on this one, the words just aren't there because I just can't wrap my brain around it. Feel free to comment for me.
I can hear a friend of mine right now...."How come things like that don't ever happen to me???"
Gems from Defensive Driving, part 2
1. Don't intentionally annoy or confront others--in fact, avoid conflicts whenever possible.
2. Evaluate risks as you go.
3. It's your responsibility to stay informed.
4. Many of the decisions you make behind the wheel are influenced by your overall attitude.
5. Never travel in the tightly-spaced, fast-moving packs of vehicles that sometimes form on highways and rural roads. Such clusters are often responsible for multi-vehicle pile-ups.
6. Use caution when visibility is reduced.
Gems from Defensive Driving
Important rules for life (oh, and driving):
1. Good driving is no accident.
2. Expressway driving has fules that must be followed.
3. Don't stop on the ramp--you could be rear-ended.
4. Choose the appropriate lane.
5. Cooperate with other drivers.
6. Carry bottled water and snacks with you. They'll keep your strength and spirits up.
7. Remember, only YOU can control your reactions to situations.
8. Use caution in work zones.
9. Never overdrive your headlights---don't drive so fast that you can't stop in the space lit by your headlights.
10. Pay attention to your physical condition, and pull over when tired.
11. It's sure to irritate a pedestrian if you almost hit him.
Okay, that's all I've got for the first 4 lessons (of 10). More later, I want to watch the Pope Joan thing on Primetime.
VH1-Classic
Wound up watching "Hysteria: The Def Leppard Story." Honestly, I really like Def Leppard, but I've never seen this biopic. Interesting story.
One question...
The actors playing the band--how come only the real Joe Elliot and Rick Allen look better than their counterparts in the movie? Why would you choose actors for the other guys who are the more attractive versions?
Christmas Morning
First, as the Wonder Dog and I walked around the complex this morning, we were both awed by the silence. He even stood still for several minutes, just enjoying the quiet. We walked a bit more, and saw a huge flock of birds coming out of the trees behind the property. He put his paws on my knee (the sign that he wants to be held). I picked him up and we watched the birds flying off together. I was struck by the silence. That made Christmas morning for me. Just made it.
Then, on the couch watching William's sermon from last week, the 4th Sunday of Advent. It's seems that Sunday is always full of sermons about Mary's visit from the angel, telling her that she was carrying God's Son. William discussed the description of Mary's mental/emotional state upon that pronouncement--she was "troubled." The ultimate conclusion was that we, today, should be "troubled" about Christmas. Not the rush we all seem to be in this time of year. Not what we go through in shopping for that one difficult person. Not the stress of preparing that perfect holiday meal. No, we should be troubled by the miracle of the virgin birth and God coming to live among us, fully human, fully God. We should be troubled by what it means to us, what it meant to the world. And, once we are troubled by Christmas, all other "troubles" of our life will disappear.
The last thing I was struck by, is far more mundane than the other two. Just after the Presbyterian service is broadcast, "Changing Your World with Dr. Creflo A. Dollar" comes on. I don't usually watch this, because I don't care for his preaching style. But, this morning, I thought I'd watch it, if only because it's Christmas morning. I got oh, 4 or 5 sentences into it when he said something that I didn't find appealing. He, too, was talking of the visit from the Angel to Mary. It was the way he described it--"The Angel came to tell her that she was pregnant, and the child had been conceived not with the sperm of a human man...." I'm sorry. I don't think that something so wonderful and miraculous as virgin birth should be described so basely. It, I don't know, impedes the miracle, to me. Kinda like when the Discovery Channel airs a show on the science behind the parting of the Red Sea, or the 40 Days Flood. Some things should just be accepted as read. Now, I know that many people need more than just "blind faith," but goodness...talking about sperm and Mary in the same sentence?
Sharing a family recipe
Buttermilk Pie
1/2 c butter (real butter, not margarine. Really, it makes a difference.)
2 c sugar
2 tsp vanilla (the real stuff is best, but the imitation will work)
3 eggs
3 tbsp flour
1/4 tsp salt
1 c buttermilk
1 9-inch pie crust (deep dish)
Preheat oven to 300 degrees.
Cream butter and sugar. Add 1/2 cup sugar at a time as you do this.
Blend in vanilla. Add eggs, 1 at a time.
Combine flour and salt, add this to the mixture a small amount a time, mixing well.
Add buttermilk, mix.
Pour into pie crust
Bake at 300 for 90 minutes. Let stand until cool. Best served at room temperature or slightly chilled.
For a variation, put 1/2 c chopped pecans in the pie crust and pour the mix on top.
Note: This makes lots more mix than you'll need for a "regular" pie crust/plate. Not enough for a second pie, but this does well baked in custard cups, too.
Enjoy. And Merry Christmas.
~~Jayne.
Christmas Adam
Do you know what my Christmas dream is this year? A backyard and a doggie door.
No, really, I have the same wish I do every year--that more and more the miracle of Christmas will involve far more than Santa making it around the earth in a night and people getting extra days off from work.
Whine
I know I need to take it. I've had this horrible, painful, completely unattractive virus thing in my ears all week that has down-graded to a common, everyday cold. The only thing that's helped me all week is regular doses of Extra Strength Tylenol. I haven't slept more than 3 hours any night since Saturday. It's driving me crazy.
So, tonight, I decided to go ahead and take some Ny-Quil to help me get more sleep. Thing is, I hate Ny-Quil. I hate the alleged cherry flavor (I don't like cherries, but, guys, this ain't cherry flavor). I hate the consistency--it's like swallowing Palmolive. The flavor--did I mention I don't like the cherry flavor? Well, whatever that green crap is supposed to be is even worse (licorice? medicine? toxic waste?).
So, I'm sitting here, debating the best way to get this nasty crap down my throat. I know this is silly and immature and I should just take it "like a big girl." You have to understand, though, this is the only substance on Earth that makes me want to retch every single time it goes down my throat. Not a few times it has succeeded in its attempts and left me feeling worse than when I started down that road.
I'm thinking that the best option for me is to take alternating swallows of the fake cherry goo and milk. I'll let you know how it goes.
Thought for the Day.
~~Spider Robinson
If you want to get me something....
Anyway, if you're looking for a few ideas...here you go.
Librarian items at CafePress
Darn near anything in this collection will do.
In the event that nothing there speaks to you, I've been eyeing a fondue thingy at Dillard's.
Merry Merry.
Walk the line
Okay, he's an ex-boyfriend. In fact, he's visited this blog before, in the early days. M returns.
I didn't realize that I missed him until he opened the door last night. I mean, yeah, I miss his company and our conversations. I didn't realize I just miss being around him. Nothing romantic or prurient, just around him.
Damn. I don't like being reminded that I feel for someone.
P.S. The title of today's post has not a blooming thing to do with anything else. I had Johnny Cash playing in the truck last night on the way up.
So I'm a little different than some
It isn't fancy--a wide sterling silver band, with doves and flowers embossed on it. The dove has what could be construed as an olive branch in its mouth.
I've worn it there for months, now.
Today, I was asked why I wear a ring there, since I'm not married. I've not been asked it before, but, knowing that I would, I had an answer prepared.
The doves represent hope and peace, the flowers are hope and renewal. The ring symbolizes important parts of my faith--my Christian faith. I wear it to remind myself that there are more important things than being married or remaining single.
I started wearing it the last time I got really down about being without a partner. I vacillate on this one. Sometimes, it doesn't bother me at all, other times I'm really, really bothered about it. Wearing this ring is a token to help me remember that it's okay to be single.
Doesn't mean I wouldn't like someone to replace this ring for me one day. *grin*
I've got it!
http://www.lizhickok.com/assets/portfolio/pages/06telegraph.html
Wonder how many weird looks the family will give me this year?
Book Personality
take the WHAT BAD BOOK ARE YOU test.
and go to mewing.net. not as good as reading a good book, but way better than a bad one.
Regis and Kelly
Kelly is being a total child "I don't wanna try it! You can't make me!" Then she does it anyway because Gelman told her to.
I hate women like that. Either do what your told, or don't. But don't be a whiny child. There's no point and you make the rest of us look bad.
And she's skinny, too. Damn her.
It's 6:45 a.m.
Last night, I fell asleep on the couch watching "The Dukes of Hazzard." I've always loved that show. So, this morning, when I rolled over (still on the couch), I turned on the TV to find that I was still on CMT (seems like I remember changing the channel to the X-Files rerun, but maybe not.). So, for the last hour, I've been watching country music videos.
A few thoughts on that...
Song's called "Why." I'll look up the artist later. Anyway, the guy's HOT. But he's got this weird idea that he must wear a black cowboy hat. There's really only so many people that can pull off a black cowboy hat. He's not one of them. I realize that there is a standard formula for male country artists, but that formula kinda quit working so well when they started piercing their ears--like this guy, who's name I promise I will look up. Artist's name is Jason Aldean. His "big smash hit" so far is "Hicktown"--a rockin' good song.
Billy Joe Shaver "Live Forever." Okay, LOVE Billy Joe Shaver. It just seems really, really odd that he's doing a music video though. Not what I'd expect, but no one asked me. Great song, too.
Reba McEntire "You're Gonna Be" (Okay, I'm not sure it's in Reba's contracts to use slang pronunciation and spellings, but that's how she sang it.). Beautiful song, but so many of hers are. My only complaint is that they constantly film her with lighting that makes her look ghostly. Ick.
Trace Adkins "Honky Tonk, Badonkadonk." WTF??? This is a cowboy's version of "I Like Big Butts." I kid you not. Some of the best lines: "How she even get those britches on" "That's why we do it, boys...it ain't for the free whiskey...it's for the badonkadonk." WTF?
Montgomery Gentry "She Don't Tell Me To." Dude's so involved in this song that he 's about ready to cry. That' would be the one who's always wearing duster. Today, he's all in black with some silver accents on his jeans, a hat that looks like something Zorro would wear, and red ropers. What?
JoDee Messina "Delicious Surprise (I Believe It)" This chick rocks. She is just so much fun and takes absolutely no crap off nobody. She also gives the impression that she's really internalized every word she's singing. Awesome. I'm gonna have to get this CD.
Faith Hill "Like We Never Loved at All." Sad, sad, song. "Story line" in the video is set in the 70s, and ol' Tim helps her out with this one. She looks great with the big, big hair, thought the bright yellow dress could've been left on the rack. He looks stupid in the golf cap thing he's got on in the beginning of the video.
Terri Clark "I Just Wanna Be Mad." She's obviously a farm-girl, tomboy. I love it. The song's great, too. They've had a fight, she assures him that she loves him, but right now, she just wants to be mad. I'll never understand why so many men don't get this concept. Trust me, gentlemen (and I use that term loosely), you guys are every bit as moody and stubborn as we can be.
Brooks & Dunn "Believe." I just heard this song for the first time yesterday, even though it's been on the radio for awhile. This one made me cry. I've always thought Kix Brooks has a great voice, and I tell you what, he could pull off some serious gospel in my opinion, after listening to this song.
Okay...that's it for my way too freakin' early music report. Have fun, kids.
Ugh
I live in a one-bedroom apartment with 4 closets. Today, I started rearranging furniture after picking up a bookcase from R. (Wait, this isn't the sad part.)
What does one inevitably do when moving furniture around? Vacuum before placing things, right?
I had to look in 3 closets before finding the vacuum cleaner.
Novel Writing
I wrote about 8,000 words and stopped. Stuck. Damn it.
I've been doing everything except write in the last few weeks. Hell, I haven't even written here in a week and a half.
I've written 3 letters to my grandfather. I mailed one.
I've watched incredibly bad daytime and night time television. The weekend fare has been pretty sad, too.
I've been litter training The Wonder Dog. I came across an 8-FOOT LONG COPPERHEAD NEAR MY PARKING SPOT AT HOME and have discontinued all walks that take place in the dark. Okay, so it was only 8 or 10 inches long, but I hate snakes. The litter training isn't going so well. But, we have had the break through of going potty near the tray today, instead of in another room.
I've been to the doctor 3 times--and was told last week that I have asthma. I've probably had it for my whole life, it was just never diagnosed. Crazy.
I've crocheted 2 afghans and a handful of hats. Even a camouflage one for a friend's little girl.
But, writing? Not a word.
I've seen some strange things
I crochet, and I'm learning how to knit. My grandmothers both taught me how to crochet, and I'm learning how to knit now as an homage to the grandmother who passed away 18 months ago.
There's an abundance of crochet sites and list servs out there. There's always motherly/grandmotherly types, and people my age (and younger) who's grandmothers taught them how to crochet and they just enjoy it now. You can peruse any one of those sites and find patterns, recipes, project ideas, etc. All are innocuous. All.
Until the group I found today. Oh my.
Kinky Crochet
I kid you not. There's a recent poll asking members which of a list of things they'd like to see patterns for. Included are pillows with "toy pockets" and whips.
I did not join this group. There's just something wrong with a hobby associated with grannies and a request like that. I mean, I applaud them for bringing crochet into the 21st century, for finding new ways to incorporate it into people's lives, and for broadening the scope of the craft (ahem).
All I can think of is my grandmother happening across this site, thinking it's harmless (and it is, but you know what I mean). Yuck.
Birthdate
| Your Birthdate: October 9 |
You are a born idealist, with more pet causes than you can count. You prefer be around others, both when working and while relaxing. Generous and giving, you believe you can change the world one person at a time. You're open minded and tolerant. People feel like they can tell you anything. Your strength: Your go-with-the-flow flexibility Your weakness: Your flair for the over dramatic Your power color: Pine green Your power symbol: Circle Your power month: September |
NaNoWriMo

Okay, so, I've decided to challenge myself. I've entered the National Novel Writing Month event.
Do me a favor...keep on me about this. Somehow, deadlines only do so much for encouraging me to do something.
Medicine head would be preferred
I'm drowning. Slowly.
Before you get all worried about me, you need to know that I'm drowning in snot. I've had more snot come out of my head than an elephant. I swear it. The stuff coming out of my head isn't natural either. I mean, it's bound to be natural since I'm not in the habit of implanting unnatural things in my sinus cavities, but it's not regular snot.
I haven't slept anything not drug-induced for the last 3 days, and even then, I wake up because I can't breath. Or, one side of my face is in excruciating pain. This pain signals that something in my sinus is moving and interested in relocating to the outside world.
All I can think of is "if I ever get out of this house again, I'm so having sinus surgery ASAP."
I'm also taking applications for a babysitter for The Wonder Dog. Yes, babysitter. He's not a dog so much as he's a small, furry, 2 year old. I can't entertain him if my head is stuck in a box of tissues.
Don't laugh, I'm very serious, about the surgery.
And the babysitter.
I thought getting online and posting would make me feel better. Thought I'd do an interesting post. Then, my left cheek started throbbing again. Nevermind.
Sick Days
Sounds weird, doesn't it? "A cold in my eyes." I promise you, that's what the man in the white coat told me when I went in thinking I had pink eye. (Yes, a childhood "disease," but you go work in a public school, ok? Trust me, you'll get it every so often.) Regardless, no contacts for a few days and I have to rinse my eyes with saline solution morning and night so I can keep them clear. Not that any of you wanted to know...but hey, you might be able to use the info one day.
While I was lying around this morning waiting on the doctor's office to open so I could call and beg for an appointment (yes, I want an appointment today, I'm terribly sorry I didn't call last week to schedule one, but my illness schedule got bumped up a month and I didn't get the memo until 20 minutes ago. Damn the luck.), I looked at my bedroom and decided that the feng shui was completely off. Now, I don't know the rules involved in feng shui, but I do know that the lay out of a room can not make me feel totally uncomfortable and I can let the room be until it is fixed. Sometimes, I'll move the furniture around every day for a week until I feel like I can sit down and not feel anxious. The Wonder Dog hates it---just when he gets his spot figured out, I move the furniture again.
Sidebar....
I have the same sort of idiosyncracy about restaurants and bars. I cannot, I mean absolutely CAN NOT, sit with my back to my "exit path." I'd like to think it has something to do with a lesser known, social custom that I still see practiced in the South that requires that the lady in a party be visible to the room. Sadly, I think it's because I'm crazy. I visibly freeze up---shoulders 'round my ears, problems concentrating on the conversation, etc. I was talking about it last night with a date. He tried to pull the chair out for me and I bypassed the one he had at ready and sat on the other side of the table. He claims it's some form of claustrophobia (which I do have). Sounds plausible, I guess, but judging from the rest of the conversation last night, I think he was blowing smoke up my ass.
Back to the scheduled blog...
So, this afternoon, when I was feeling better and could stand up AND breathe simultaneously (I'm telling you, my sinuses were naaasty.), I rearranged my bedroom. I had this "princess" canopy thing hanging over the head of my bed. The netting ones that fall from a hoop. I realize you don't typically see those in the bedroom of someone my age (even if I am incredibly young), but I liked it. Kinda a romantic thing.
Well, since there's no romance going on in my house these days, I decided to not put it back up over my bed. Instead, I hung it in a corner of my little yellow armchair that R gifted me with. (You remember R, my best friend...wonderful at all the things I'm not, like furniture placement) I was thinking "meditation space" which is becoming increasingly important to me. I see myself curling up in the chair, pulling the netting around me, and blocking myself off from the world for a bit. Mother came over for a few minutes and told me it looked like I'd created a throne for myself.
Could it be because I have my tiara on a little nicknack shelf on the wall next to my chair??? And the sign that says "I didn't ask to be a princess, but the tiara fit"???
For the record, I'm not a princess (literally or figuratively), but I do believe that every once in a while, a woman needs to feel like she is, even if her only subject is her dog.
For future reference...
Says the woman who's had most of the bottle in the last 3 hours....on top of 2 'ritas.
Hero Worship, part 2
I think when we get older, heroism amounts to something different. My heroes aren’t necessarily famous people or done newsworthy things. Suddenly, not their great acts, but their character is what I want to emulate.
I don’t think there’s a lack of heroes, not for adults. It’s just the criteria has grown up as we did.
So, who are my heroes? Let me tell you.
My students. Everyday they teach me something new and surprise me. They also call me to task and push me to be more than I am, even if they don’t realize it.
One of my former students. He’s in his freshman year at UT (as in Longhorns, people) this year and is one of my favorite friends. He’s amazing to talk to and gives me hope for the future. He sees the bigger picture and the things that are important, but knows how live as well.
My best friend. Because of him, I’m more than I was when we met and it’s because he pushed me to do it.
The people who hold it together after major crises and tragedies. Yes, we all falter at some point, but those people who don’t let the situation get the better of them and become those “less than stellar” individuals.
The men and women in the armed forces who give of their lives—both literally and figuratively—everyday.
30 Questions
2.Where was your first kiss? Sadly, outside my locker in 8th grade. (Apparently, waiting THAT long made me some sort of freak. But, if you'd seen the guys I went to school with, you'd have waited too.)
3. Have you ever seriously vandalized someone else’s property? No. But I wouldn't tell you anyway.
4. Have you ever hit someone of the opposite sex? Yes. Many times.
5. Have you ever sung in front of a large number of people? Yep, everytime I read the scripture at church--thank God I'm not miked.
6. What’s the first thing you notice about the opposite sex? Hm, eyes. If the eyes are kind, he's a winner in my book.
7. What really turns you on? Authenticity--in any context.
8. What do you order at Starbucks? Anything they're willing to put a double shot in.
9. What is your biggest mistake? So not going there.
10. Have you ever hurt yourself on purpose? Not recently ;)
11. Say something totally random about yourself. I've never slept through the night.
12. Has anyone ever said you looked like a celebrity? Drew Barrymore. I hear that ALL the time.
13. Do you still watch kiddy movies or tv shows? Sometimes, that's all that's on TV.
14. Did you have braces? Yes.
15. Are you comfortable with your height? Mostly. Being 5'4" put a stop on my supermodel career pretty quickly. However, if you know an agency that wants shorter women (you know, part of that "real" look"), let me know.
16. What is the most romantic thing someone of the opposite sex has done for you? Uh-uh. Never kiss and tell.
17. When do you know it’s love? Even trying to describe it would be an injustice.
18. Do you speak any other languages? Taco, enchilada, Madre, gracias. Do these count as speaking the other language?
19. Have you ever been to a tanning salon? Yep. Every year in February and March.
20. What magazines do you read? Real Simple (but not real cheap), Cottage Living, Newsweek, Time.
21. Have you ever ridden in a limo? Nope.
22. Has anyone you were really close to passed away? Grandma
23. Do you watch mtv? The music channel for people who don't like music? No.
24. What’s something that really annoys you? Blatant stupidity.
25. What’s something you really like? warm cookies and cold milk, a good book, back rubs, Christmas carols, blue jeans and t-shirts.
26. Do you like Michael Jackson? The music, not the man, um...person.
27. Can you dance? Pretty well. I don't make a fool of myself at least. I do better with a guy who can lead well.
28. What’s the latest you have ever stayed up? 4 p.m. It was the end of a 22 hour first date. Probably the best first date I've ever had.
29. Have you ever been rushed by an ambulance into the emergency room? Twice, after car accidents in which I wound up with back and neck injuries.
30. Do you actually read these when other people fill them out? Yep.
Stole this list of questions off Q's blog.
Hodge-podge
Part of me is thinking "well, duh." The rest of me (the 90% that's typically in charge) is thinking, "I know this, so why do I deny it so often?" Everyday, I come across something I could be writing about...then I don't do it because it doesn't seems like a "worthy" topic. Hold me to it, guys, no more "unworthy" topics--just writing.
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I learned the other day how hummingbirds accomplish migration. See, physically, they are incapable of undertaking the task by themselves. They hitch rides under the feathers of geese who are heading south (or north). The geese act as a transit system and take them to warmer climates.
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Today, I had an interesting conversation with a coworker today. We were talking about a man who used to attend the school I work in and now teachers at a military academy. He told her once that one of the things he's learned while teaching there is that there are bell curves within bell curves.
What I mean is, at a military academy, you find the cream of the crop on the bell curve (by and large, at least). Within that population, there is a second bell curve---highs, lows, and "averages" within those students.
We then talked about how it's the same in prison situations. In a prison population, there are leaders, status quo sorts, and whiners. The bell curve again.
I see it in the people I work with. Leaders--the ones we all go to when we need assistance, or turn to for a clue as to how to handle/react to something. The middle of the roads--ranging from just getting by to verging on being a leader. Then there's at the bottom of the curve--struggling ones or those others question keeping on staff.
Anyway, it's just an interesting look at societal dynamics.
Tybee Island Lighthouse. Supposed to be the tallest one in Georgia (or maybe the US, can't remember now. Anyway, I did make it all the way to the top..but was too chicken to go out on the landing.
Everytime we see a turtle on a back road, we have to pull over and help it across. On the road to Tybee Island, I saw turtle crossing signs. Hehe.
I don't have birthdays anymore
But, like I said, my birthday was over the weekend. It was painful. See, this is the year of the last one I'll celebrate. I turned 29 Sunday.
The last few years, the birthdays have all hurt. Until this one, 26 was the worst. I'm not sure why, it just did.
This year, I woke up crying. I didn't want to be turning 29. Certainly not turning 29 in a Howard Johnson Hotel with my brother in the next bed over. (geez, I'm tearing up just thinking about it.)
Mother says I'm being ridiculous. So what? It's my right. I am, after all, an adult.
In times of crisis...

I post this one because it will never happen again. My two dogs don't get along. The Wonder Dog would love to play with The Old Man, but The Old Man doesn't like children -- 2-legged or 4-legged ones. This is why The Old Man continues to live with my parents (that and his hip injury make stairs impossible)
During the recent evacuations for Hurricane Rita, the Boys rode 9 hours with me to my grandfather's. Usually, this is a 2 hour tour, and I was beginning to feel marooned on our mandated evacuation route--the "Gilligan's Island" theme kept rolling through my head. Anyway, I suppose in times of near-crisis, even the Boys can tell that it would be in their best interest to not piss me off and just play nice with each other.
In this picture, the crisis was that their Scottish terrier cousin (on my dad's side, of course) was about to eat their food. He'd been eyeing it for a couple of hours and the Boys just couldn't take it anymore. They were pleased to find that at the next regularly scheduled feeding, I moved the bowls to my room and had copious amounts of extra food and treats.
Feelin' a need to crow
So, in July I started going Weight Watchers. I've been rather impressed with myself. Not only am I really, truly keeping up with the plan rules, I've been exercising almost every day. I'm ready to announce my progress so far.
Since mid-July, I've lost 20 pounds.
The people at the meetings are stunned--first of all, where the hell did I have 20 pounds to lose? Was my leg hollow? No, I just "wear it well." To look at me, you'd never know there's 20 more pounds floating around to lose. But there is. By all accounts, I'm little, petite---and this is from men who want to date me.
Anyway..just had to share.
Watch out for small planes.
Carole Lombard
You're a little bit of a fruitcake, but you always act out in style. You have a good sense of humor, are game for almost anything, but you like to have nice things about you and are attracted to the high life. You're stylish and modern, but you've got a few rough edges that keep you from attaining true sophistication. Your leading men include William Powell, Fredric March, and Clark Gable. Watch out for small planes.
My own damn self
For twelve years, one thought ran through my head more than any other.
I am not my mother.
My mother. People respect and admire her. I can’t go anywhere in this town without hearing about how great she is. And she is great. She’s a master at her job, at her church work, at being an example to others. Few women inspire me the way she tends to. Granted, it’s not always to be better than I am. Sometimes it’s just to be different than who she is.
I haven’t said it in four years. Not because I finally decided to believe it, but because I finally gave in.
To a point.
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Everyone says I look just like her. (Well, everyone except for a whole two people in my life. Both those women think I look more and more like Daddy everyday. I do have his shape. Not build, shape. There’s a difference. Personally, I don’t think I look unlike him, but
not just like him.) Looking like Mother isn’t an altogether bad thing. I think she’s beautiful. It does mean that I get her family’s short stature, and that double-chin thing that I can’t
seem to shake. We have a very similar smile and have confused people on the phone. We’d even have the same color hair, if we didn’t color it (she goes blonde, I go dark auburn.)
I went into education, just like she did. Even taught elementary school, just like her. I loved being in the classroom and watching students “get it.” Paperwork and parents never bothered me. I love the challenge of getting the material across so that every student masters it. Third-graders were the breaking point. They were a wonderful class, but I’m just not cut out for that age. At the first opportunity, I hopped on a high school position and ran with it. You know what my favorite part of this job is? Watching the strides the students make in a year’s time.
In high school and college, Mother and I clashed constantly, which I think may be a prerequisite for a healthy mother-daughter relationship. Man, life was hell in that house for awhile. I take full responsibility for my part. The main issue, I think, was that we’ve something of the same temperament and clashed. Looking back, I’m not sure how we shared that house through some of those things. Seems like one of us (me, I guess) would’ve bolted at some point.
I hear that I’m just like her pretty often, too. Sometimes, I just have to laugh at that. Personality-wise, I think I’m a whole lot more like Daddy—same quirky sense of humor and all. Mother and I may do things similarly, but it’s just because I learned those things from her. I make a lot of it up as I go, though.
Even going off to school and then moving out on my own later, I strived to be different from her. My life at nearly 29 years old is very different from hers. I’m single (she’d been married 11 years), have no kids (she had two, and one was getting ready to go to junior high, eek!), have lived on my own for several years, and have a masters degree (she was starting to go back to school to become a teacher). Those are “big” things in life and those aren’t the things I’ve chosen to do because of my desire to not become her. No, it’s the little things that I do.
The first thing I did that I felt like carried my signature on it and separated me from her a bit was making spaghetti sauce. I don’t know why that’s such a big deal to me. She doesn’t do anything fancy with spaghetti sauce. A can of paste, can of sauce, maybe some diced tomatoes, ground beef browned with onions, spices. Easy. I, on the other hand, take whole tomatoes and dice/puree them fresh, garlic, chili powder, oregano, basil, and thyme. Salt and pepper to taste. With or without ground beef. Nothing canned or preserved. It’s not what I grew up eating, but I don’t want it any other way anymore.
There are other things, too.
I buy shoes because they make me feel pretty.
I drink a vodka tonic (with extra lime) every night before bed.
There’s always a bottle of decent chardonnay, and chocolate in my house.
I sleep in the nude 90% of the time (clothes are constricting, you know?).
I’m a writer and love wordplay.
You’ll never see me wearing sensible shoes two days in a row.
I tend to cuss when I drink. Or get pissed. Or breathe (sometimes).
My best friend is a wonderful man, who’s involved with another woman.
I’m less tolerant of stupidity than she is.
I’m way more liberal than she is.
I cherish the days that I can sleep late (even if “late” is only 8 a.m.).
I think nothing of shopping at Wal-Mart at 2 a.m. to avoid the lines.
I love good rock music (Aerosmith, Van Halen, Queen..that era).
I refuse to listen to the Christian station. They play nothing I like.
Okay, so some of that’s mundane. I told you it wasn’t big things that I do to project being different from her. But it’s not always the big things that make people anyway. It’s the little things.
Worship your librarian
Worship on Librarian Avengers.
Okay, okay, so I was telling them to worship me before I became a librarian. Sue me.
The clock REALLY is ticking.
Every year, Beloit College in Wisconsin releases a Mindset List to help faculty understand where the incoming freshman class is coming from. I have this feeling that, particularly for me, it’s going to get more frightening. And actually, I think it’s a little sad how many different things they missed out on, for one reason or another.
Anyway, here’s the Mindset List for the Class of 2009.
http://www.beloit.edu/~pubaff/mindset/









