New blog!

I have decided to keep blogging...I have a new blog titled, Je rêve en français.

Thanks for following :)

And it's over

Well, the big day has come and gone. I'm now part of the dirty thirty, flirty thirty, or whatever thirty club. The weirdest thing happened, too. I woke up yesterday, my 30th birthday, with wrinkles all over my face! I screamed, naturally, and then realized it was just a dream. Then I really woke up. No changes so far. However, my colleagues at work did say I seemed more considerate when I brought the contents of their mailboxes in to their rooms. Of course, the catalyst for that could have been the beautiful gift basket they presented to me that morning, clad with shower gel, lotion, body splash, sensual aromatic lotion, a red rose bush, and a very racy card. I believe there were also some hand sanitizer wipes and a giant container of Clorox wipes for my, ahem, germophobic tendencies. (Hey, I work around kids all day, and I have to protect myself!) Husband took me out for a delicious dinner at Coppertop, followed by some gift opening. I am now the proud owner of the Eclipse DVD, along with a video documentary about Forks, the real town that inspired the setting for Meyer's saga. How exciting!

Today I spent the day at the Turning Stone Spa. What a delight! I started in the whirlpool and followed that with a 75 minute massage and lavender wrap. I could just feel those toxins running from my body! Eight hours later I am still fully relaxed. Seriously, what a wonderful treat! I cannot wait to go again...I had a nice meal and even made time for some gambling before my departure. Unfortunately I wasn't lucky while gambling, but the people-watching was surreal. I'm always up for that entertainment!

And now I am home. What a fantastic 30th birthday! I feel truly blessed to be a year older. I have an amazing family, wonderful friends, and I am one happy lady!

Thank you for joining me on this journey. It has been a great deal of fun blogging these past 10 months. I really am sad to write this final entry. It's just so....final! So, instead of abandoning the blog entirely, I've decided what I really need is a new blog. Thus, I am taking suggestions from you. Comment with ideas and/or titles for a new blog! I'll be checking periodically over the next few days, so don't be a stranger :) Send me your ideas!!!

On the Eve of a New Era

On the eve of my 30th birthday I...

• cleaned snow and ice from my car, and shoveled my driveway, front walkway, and side walkway 2 times
• got my car stuck at the end of my driveway, then had to shovel and dig myself out - using all sorts of 30-year-old expletives!
  
• took a long afternoon nap
• made and ate a pizza
• and........
• watched Eclipse, my favorite of the twilight Saga movies

Now that I've had my Edward and Bella fix I can sleep easy, dreaming of all the wonderful blessings tomorrow will bring! (I won't actually be 30 until about 12:45 Thursday afternoon).

Despite the shoveling and time spent out in the bitter cold, I enjoyed the beautiful scenery Mother Nature has provided for my 30th. (But seriously, Lake Ontario, you can turn the snow machine off now. We're approaching four feet here in 95+ hours - more than plenty!)

On the eve of this new era, I'm thinking of all the people that have come into (and out) my life. I'm thankful for every one of them. I have had many blessings in my life, and if there's one thing I've learned this last year before turning thirty, it's that life is precious and shouldn't be wasted. While it's easy to get caught up in the little things that seem big, the good things in life can pass by. So, I am making a promise to myself, to each day honor my family, my God, and the Green Bay Packers. Just kidding, Jimmy Valvano! I vow to focus on the important things in life: God, family, friends, and people in general, because we are what makes the world what it is. Without people, our lives would be meaningless.

Come and get me, 30! :)

Holy Snow!

TWO. MORE. DAYS!

Let's see. It's been snowing steadily since Sunday. When I say "steadily", I mean it hasn't stopped. Non. Stop. Snow. It feels like a blizzard, dumping over two feet of snow. Now, where I come from (downstate New York), that would be considered a snow STORM. But here in upstate New York it's called snow SHOWERS. Did you read that correctly? SHOWERS. My ass.

Snow brings with it a magical feeling. I dream of snow days, and I want to put on a snowsuit, run outside with my snow tube, and find the nearest sledding hill. That's the child in me itching to come out. Instead I wake up to an alarm and force myself to get dressed, shovel a path to my car, dust it off, and head out on the slippery, unplowed road, determined to get to work in one piece. That's the adult in me forced to come out. Funny how life has changed.

Since Sunday I've shoveled (with my husband's help, of course) the deck twice. Each time the snow was over a foot high. Initially I felt bad about missing the gym two days in a row due to a disinterest in driving late on snow covered roads, but no longer! I actually considered creating a workout video called "Shoveling Moves: A Full-Body Workout!. My abs, legs, arms, and back are definitely feeling the burn.

A little while ago I went to put the garbage out at the curb and observed that we've gotten about three more inches since I came home a couple hours ago. As I look out the window I can see the wind is kicking up (the pine tree actually dumped snow on me as we were shoveling the deck and I mistakenly blamed my husband, thinking he had thrown snow at me) and it is blustery!

I do want to go on the record for having predicted this storm long before it even hit weather radar. Over a week ago I mentioned to my husband that historically there has always been a snow storm around my birthday. Mother Nature did not disappoint this year. What would make a lovely gift for my special day this year? A snow day! What a blog entry that would make for the finale of this blog! Fingers crossed, everyone, and we'll see what your intentions will bring :)

SNOW DAY SNOW DAY SNOW DAY!!!

To beard or not to beard

Why do men (and apparently some women) have the capability to grow facial hair? What useful purpose does it serve? Some people may argue that its purpose is to keep its owner warm. But how much warmth could it possibly provide? And why do some men have the ability to grow a thick and plentiful beard while other men can barely grow a whisker? Recently I heard a radio show that claims Native Americans cannot grow facial hair. Could that be true? And wouldn't they have needed facial warmth, if that is indeed the purpose of a beard?

If anyone cares to shed some light on this topic, please do! I welcome your thoughts :)

Say hello to Husband with a beard (which, ironically, will be removed on my birthday, leaving only the mustache behind!). As you can see, he is quite capable of growing a thick and wiry beard. For the first couple weeks it was very itchy and uncomfortable. I'm pretty sure he's itching to lose the beard, though there may be some separation anxiety when it comes time to remove it. In his (and my) defense, it is part of a six-week Toys for Tots fundraiser. The culmination is a mustache contest, but he refused to grow the mustache without the beard. His reasoning? Some people can pull off a mustache and look decent, while other just look creepy. He didn't want to look creepy (thank goodness!)

Countdown: 5 more days!

I cannot believe that the date is approaching so quickly! It seems like I've been blogging about it for ages. This past week I've had the chance to think more about the whole idea of turning thirty. At first I started the blog because I thought all the hype about turning thirty was just that, hype. But my thoughts may be changing. Turning thirty means the end of my twenties. For the next ten years I can be only thirty-something, no longer a twenty-something. But is that really so terrible? I frequently hear on television shows and movies that forty is the new thirty. Wouldn't that mean thirty is the new twenty?

So here's the bottom line: I'm turning thirty in five days and can't do a thing to change it. I could borrow my mother's idea and start counting my age backwards, which would mean I'd either stay 29 or return to 28. A tempting idea, but I'm not interested in denial.

They way I see it I have two choices. I can mope about and fall victim to society's irrational obsession that turning thirty means the end of my youth, or I can embrace my upcoming 30th birthday and see it as a blessing. Intuition tells me the latter would be the better choice.

TGIF and the search for the perfect shoe

Thank goodness it's Friday! Really. What. A. Week. It went by quickly, but it also felt especially long if that makes any sense at all.

In a previous post I wrote about how disappointed I was (and maybe still am) in the lack of comfortable, stylish, and affordable shoe options for teachers. We, like nurses, doctors, and other professionals, are on our feet all day. By the end of most days my heels, calves, knees, and sometimes back hurt from standing in mediocre shoes on an unforgiving tile floor for most of the day. Recently I noticed multiple teachers I work with wearing the same style shoe. After inquiring, I learned that those shoes are DANSKOs, a brand of expensive clog originally designed by a couple from Denmark. Every owner/wearer I spoke to swears that they are so comfortable they bought more than one pair. So, out of pain and desperation I bit the bullet and bought a pair. I have to say, so far I'm not convinced they are so wonderfully comfortable. I wore them around the store and it felt like I was walking on a hard wood block. How can that be good for my feet? I do like that they have a substantial arch, which I find most dress shoes lacking. I also like that they have a bit of a lift to them, because that will help me look taller without having to suffer through heels all day. I feel much older than 29 right now. Who thought I'd be searching for comfortable, practical shoes before my 30th birthday? Certainly not me. Happy almost-30th Birthday, Bridget, you now own a pair of plain black clogs. Whoopee!

If you have DANSKOs and love them (or don't love them), please comment below and tell me! I'm on the fence - do I keep (and give them a chance) or return?

Old Man Winter

I've known for awhile that winter would rear its cold, snowy head eventually, but we've been so spoiled the past couple of years that I hoped it would hold off for a bit. Well, it's here and it looks like it's staying. So I shouldn't have been surprised by the bone-chilling cold air today. But I was. Time to break out the long, poofy bubble coat, which I bought for these cold New York winters.

By the way, for those of you who might think cold weather is something new for me, I grew up in Southern New York. The air was just as cold there. Could it be that in my old age I am becoming less tolerant to the cold weather? I blast the heat in my car until it gets so hot that when I move my arm my watch, which has been in the direct path of the heat vent, burns my skin. But I don't learn. Every day I do the same thing. I am THAT desperate to get warm. Right now I am curled up on my couch in my warm flannel pajamas with a super warm and buttery soft blanket wrapped around me. Between my body and the blanket, leaning against my stomach, is a microwavable heat bag. Most people stick it in the mic for about a minute and a half, I heat it for three minutes. And then reheat it again. My shower water is scalding hot. I even brush my teeth with hot water. I revel in sitting in the sun, feeling its warm rays on my body.

I think the snow is really pretty, especially when it clings to the trees and sparkles in the sun. I like tubing and want to try snow shoeing. I've gone cross-country skiing but I wasn't very good. Maybe I'll try that again this year. In the past I've enjoyed skiing. I even have a pair of skis engraved with my name - I know, LOOOOSER! But mostly I enjoy curling up on the couch with a heat bag, under a blanket with a cup of hot tea cradled in my hands watching a cheesy movie or reading a fast-paced book. Ah, the possibilities. For now, I'll welcome winter, cozy up to my heat bag, and remind myself to wear my poofy coat.

Let it rain, let it rain, let it RAIN

Notice how people are always so entertained by the weather? It's such a common conversation piece. There is something so exciting about storms, whether it be pouring rain, snow, wind,or thunderstorm. Right now it's about 50 degrees and raining, with strong gusts of wind making eerie noises through the house. It shouldn't be fascinating, but to me it is. If it was cold enough to snow, we would be in trouble! There are major flood warnings out through Thursday morning, and the local news channel is predicting massive power outages as a result of 50 mph winds. I don't think I want to know what a gust that strong feels like! Again, if this was snow I'd be wearing my pajamas inside out and backwards, flushing ice cubes down the toilet, putting cotton balls underneath my pillow, and running laps around the dining room table hoping desperately for a snow day. Wait, I think I just heard thunder. Or it could be the train (which also captivates me!). I think maybe the weather is so exciting to me because it's a force that cannot be controlled. Mother Nature is unstoppable (although I did hear recently about scientists that have devised a way to alter weather patterns and precipitation - very bad idea!), and her storms can be quite fierce and unpredictable. I mean, how often are weather predictions correct? More than half the time it seems that the meteorologists are taking their best guesses on the weather for any given day. Even storm predictions fall short. A prediction for a foot of snow really only drops 3 inches. A 5-inch snow prediction has left us with two feet. Is there no way to accurately predict the weather? If there isn't, that's fine, but let's not pretend there is by creating and using fancy technology like the Doppler system.

As a kid I was absolutely terrified of thunderstorms. At the first sound of thunder my entire body would stiffen and I'd break out in a cold sweat! If I was at home I would immediately retreat to the basement with my favorite teddy bear and a flashlight...all by myself, counting the seconds until it would all be over. Crazy, huh? My family thought I was absolutely nuts. My brother loved thunderstorms so much (either that or he just loved torturing me) that he would stand outside in a thunder and lightning storm, staring up at the sky. I attribute my fear to the day I was in the child seat on the back of my dad's bike and we were several miles from home. It started to thunder and I remember being really scared. It started lightning and pouring and I started screaming and crying. My dad says I totally freaked out. I think that is definitely the day my fear was born. My fear of thunderstorms has, for the most part, diminished - thank goodness! Now house centipedes have replaced that fear! (Ewwww!)

10 DAYS and flush

Whew! Thanksgiving was a whirlwind this year! We spent Thanksgiving with my family, then traveled back upstate for a second feast. Sunday we were invited by my in-laws to another turkey dinner. I loved every minute of it! THREE Thanksgiving dinners and I didn't have to cook a single one. I'd say I made out well.

Well, the birthday to end this blog will occur in 10 days (Dec. 9th). I don't really know what I'm expecting to happen, or if I should expect anything at all. Will something magical happen the moment I turn 30? Will I be wiser and more sophisticated? My bet says no. Just another year, another number. One hope is that I'll be able to celebrate somehow, sometime, and somewhere with my Love and good friends! The other is that I get a Blog of Note.

Now onto the real blogging part. I have to bring this up. What is it that prevents people from flushing a public toilet after they've gone to the bathroom? I hope that on my birthday I'll have an entire day of no unpleasant surprises when I walk into any stall. It's so gross, really. I mean, is it that difficult to push the handle? A gentle kick would also do the job. I don't mind so much when there is only pee in the bowl, but there's absolutely NO NEED for anything more substantial to linger behind. Oh, and.... if you sprinkle when you tinkle, be a sweetie and wipe the seatie! PLEASE!!!!!

'Tis the season

'Tis the season for peace, joy, love, and crazed shopping!

Well, the day after Thanksgiving traditionally marks the beginning of the holiday season here in America. Store decorations are up, sales are abundant, people are skittering every which way looking for the perfect gifts for their precious ones, and Christmas music plays on the radio. Hanukkah begins the first week of December, with Christmas soon to follow.

Usually the holiday season raises my spirits and adds an extra spring to my step. Not this year, though. I am not feeling Christmas-y. It's unfortunate, really, because I look forward to this season all year long. I guess I'm in a rut. Maybe things will turn around?

With that said, I'm hardly getting any shopping done because I'm not in the right mood. Anyone who normally gets a gift from me at Christmas, including my family, may feel gypped this year. I'm hoping my advance apology will grant me pardon!

Enjoy the season...

Thanksgiving = Give Thanks

I love this time of year. Thanksgiving is here, and Christmas and New Year's are just around the corner. Holiday lights are up, the temperature is getting colder (well, that isn't much fun!), and snow starts to flurry. People are abuzz with shopping lists and pre-holiday tasks. Parking lots are packed and people seem a little cheerier. It's a magical time of year!

But of course, nothing would be magical if I didn't have family and friends to celebrate with. Thanksgiving is supposed to be a time of giving thanks for who and what we have in our lives.

I plan to take some time over the next few days and focus on the people and things that I am thankful for in my life. I recently heard someone say that we should be happy with what we have instead of focusing on what we don't have. That resonated deeply with me because it's so easy to get caught up with what we don't have and what we want. Television commercials, magazine ads, billboards, and movies all remind us of what we don't have but could have.

When we sit down to make our holiday "wish" lists, maybe we could also make a "thanks" list. What are we thankful for? Who could we give thanks to? It always feels better to give than to receive (although receiving feels wonderful, too). If you try this and find you have difficulty listing things you are thankful for, watch the documentary titled "God Grew Tired of Us". It's the story of the Lost Boys of Sudan who trekked over 1,000 miles to reach safety at a refugee camp in Kenya while their country was torn apart by civil war. Many have been placed in the United States, where things like electricity, indoor plumbing, refrigerated food, and beds were a new experience for them. These are things I take for granted every single day. This documentary was a reminder of how much I do take for granted, so this year I'd like to spend time being thankful for what I have instead of thinking about the things I don't have.

Have a safe, happy, and thankful Thanksgiving everyone!

Zombie Apocalypse

My husband sometimes refers to a "zombie apocalypse". I didn't get it at first so I had to look it up. According to wikipedia, it's "a widespread rise of zombies hostile to human life engages in a general assault on civilization."

Now, I doubted that he really believed this would happen because of its supernatural implications, and was thoroughly relieved when I realized he was really referring to the state of people's minds as being zombie-ish. He feels that people today are walking around in a state of complete self-centeredness, in an altered reality, failing to see what's really going on around them. And in that case, the zombie apocalypse IS really upon us, as you can witness for yourself by clicking here.

Can you believe this? I am astonished. And frightened. Really frightened.

Final Countdown

Well, I realized today that The Big Day, my 30th birthday, is less than one month away. On December 9th I will turn The Big 3-0. I can hardly believe I have been blogging for nearly ten months! In light of the upcoming event, I took some time today to ponder the idea of a birthday. In my mind, birthdays are celebratory. Why not celebrate the day one was born? I believe life is a gift, and a birthday is a perfect opportunity to be thankful for that life and celebrate it with the people who really make up that life: friends and family. Then I started to think about how we only celebrate that one day. I mentioned to someone that I would like to celebrate my birthday for an entire week. She suggested the entire month. At first I laughed at the ridiculousness of it, but then I stopped. Why NOT celebrate for the entire month? So, I made a decision. This year, the year that I turn "Dirty Thirty", I am going to celebrate my birthday for the entire month of December. What does that mean? It means I am going to do something to celebrate "me" each day for the entire month. It might be something small like taking the time to paint my nails, meditating, or giving myself an extra hour of sleep. Or it might be something bigger like having dinner with friends or going to a movie or show. I don't get to do all the things I enjoy because life gets in the way. That is no longer going to suffice as an excuse, at least for the month of December. I am thankful for my life, and I know that 30 has great things in store for me. I'm going to celebrate being 29 until December 9th, and then I'll celebrate being 30 until the 31st (an beyond, of course). Life is a blessing and I am very happy to be here. I plan to celebrate that blessing!

Countdown: 22 days!

Meditation Medication

It shouldn't be any surprise that I thoroughly enjoy reading. I used to read simply for entertainment, getting my thrills as a kid from books like The Babysitters' Club, Sweet Valley Twins, and Nancy Drew, and later moving on to mystery/thrillers by authors such as R.L. Stine, Christopher Pike, and Stephen King. In high school and college I had no time to read anything for leisure as my days and nights were filled reading mandatory selections, and I was barely able to finish those on time. I entered into a reading slump at that time, with reading for fun taking a place on the back burner. After moving back home after college, and pre-graduate school and working almost full-time, I started dabbling with books again. The first one? Invisible Man by Ralph Ellison. Poor choice. I hated most of it, but trudged through it to the end. I got smarter with my second choice: The Da Vinci Code Special Illustrated Edition. That got me back on track and things progressed. Now I LOVE reading again, and not just for entertainment. I like to read some non-fiction, too, in hopes that I'll better myself in some way.

Some teachers are stuck on having students read "quality" literature and the classics, but I have to be honest, I've read a lot of what's considered "quality" literature along with many classics and they just don't keep my interest. We took our classes to see the musical Little Women last year, and to prepare myself I read the unabridged, original version. I won't even say how long it took me to complete it, but it was a long time. So I don't push the classics or even quality literature. My advice to students (and their parents) is read. Read a magazine, newspaper, cheesy chapter book, even the back of the cereal box. As long as a child is reading, and reading for fun, they are becoming a better reader and they will love reading. That is my personal opinion.

Anyway, I'm finishing The Giver right now. It's a young adult novel, so it's a quick read. The messages in this book are so powerful and relevant to our world today. If you have not read this book, make sure it's your next pick from the library or bookstore. It will change the way you look at society and the way things are. Now off to my next book, a gift from a friend: One Day by David Nicholls. I can't wait: I'm so excited! Reading has now taken the place of TV watching in my life.

(If you have book suggestions, send them my way. I love reading books based on personal recommendations!)

Two springs ago I read Eat, Pray, Love (don't judge it by the movie). I think it was that book that introduced me to the idea of introducing meditation to my life. After reading the book, I tried to meditate. I mean I TRIED. Rather than calm me, it frustrated me. I couldn't do it with ten thousand thoughts popping through my head. I love how the sun feels on my back right now. That breeze feels good. I wish I was at the beach. Maybe we can go to the beach this summer. I'd need a pedicure first. What color should I get? It went on and on and on. Then I got smarter, realizing I couldn't do it on my own, so I picked up a guided meditation CD from the library. I had better success with that. The problem is, I haven't graduated beyond the guided CD. The book I just read by Deepak Chopra recommends meditating 30 minutes twice a day. I would love to do that, but I don't think I can. Can I even sit still for that long? Probably not. Anyway, that is one of my new goals, to meditate twice a day (even if only for a few minutes). Everything I've read claims it is restorative to the mind, body, and soul. I'm ready to be restored!

Frenchie French French French!

I may have already mentioned this, but I am absolutely infatuated with France and most things French. I have even idealized the French people, and often find myself making excuses for what others perceive to be rude French behavior. Maybe I was French in a past life.....

Anyway, I studied French in college and later enrolled at the Sorbonne in Paris while on a study abroad adventure. There were some trying days, but all in all it was a pleasant trip full of personal growth and discovery. And lots of baguettes! I came back from Paris in 2001 and graduated from college in 2002. In 8 years I have spoken little to no French, but find myself waking from dreams completely spoken in French. I have regretted not being able to continue my practice of the French language, and I do miss certain aspects of French culture. I've even been stalking novels that take place in France just so I can get my French "fix". Well, God has been listening to the silent wishes of my soul.

On Friday I learned that I would have the opportunity to teach both Social Studies AND Language Arts to a young boy from Madagascar, whose second language (and the language spoken in his previous school) is French. He speaks little English, so I was thrilled to get him in my classes. He speaks English as much as he can, and then sometimes asks for clarification in French. Today I explained the concept of a lake (remember where he is from - he understands it as a sea), and he told me "J'ai pas de gomme." It took me a minute, but eventually I realized he needed an eraser. Evidently I've forgotten the difficulty of bouncing back and forth between languages - not an easy feat, at least not yet. I do, however, love that I am able to communicate with him. And here's the best part: today he told me that my French "is very good"! Woo-hoo! Still got it...

Wegmans

I have to say it. I love Wegmans. LOVE L.O.V.E LOOOOOOVE Wegmans. It is the greatest supermarket in the world (I'm guessing on that one, but it seems like it has to be). If you've never been to Wegman's, you are truly missing out. Did you not hear Alec Baldwin during his stint on "The Late Show"? His mother refuses to move closer to him because she'll miss Wegman's. Now if that doesn't speak volumes about Wegman's, I don't know what will. Bottom line: it is the be-all-end-all of supermarkets. When my parents come to visit, my dad spends no less than two hours shopping there, filling the car with bags of amazing things. It is superior.



There is one thing that drives me crazy about Wegman's, though. The people. Earlier this week I referenced those with no spatial awareness. Tonight I'll focus on the cart leavers. That's right. The people who can't walk ten feet to the nearest cart return. Instead, they leave it next to their car and drive off, or they push it away from their car and drive off, leaving the cart to smash into some innocent shopper's car. We all know that's rude, but how LAZY is that? The cart returns are strategically placed in the parking lot, making it more than easy to walk the cart and leave it there for the cart crew to pick up. Maybe I am especially annoyed by this because my car was once hit by one of these "runaway" carts and dented to such a degree that my front door would not open. If I ever personally witness someone doing this in the parking lot, you can bet money that I will confront that person about their rude and lazy attitude and it will NOT be pretty. Very little irritates me MORE than people being inconsiderate due to laziness. It was almost 70 degrees today. It's not even snowing. There is no excuse. Return the cart!

It is such a widespread problem, in fact, that there is a support ribbon for it! (See a previous post on Support Ribbons )

Fear Mongering

Fear mongering, according to Wikipedia, is the use of fear to influence the opinions and actions of others towards some specific end. Yesterday I spent my day off getting the flu shot (my arm still hurts today) and having my yearly eye exam. The "vision center" was an absolute zoo. I suppose I should have expected it, with it being a holiday and all. Finally, my name was called and I sauntered back to the dreaded glaucoma test site. There has to be a better way for testing besides blowing air into each eyeball. I can usually sit still for the first "puff", but my eye has a mind of its own and blinks uncontrollably in anticipation for the second "puff". When it was over I was directed to a row of chairs to wait. I pulled out my book, The Giver by Lois Lowry, and read. Minutes later I was called into the exam room by a man not much older than me. I sat down in the exam chair and he read my file aloud. I said "correct" several times, mentioned that I swim with goggles over my contacts, and then he launched into a speech about contacts and bacterial infections. Apparently baths, showers, pillows, pools, lakes, rivers, and hands can cause serious eye infections. He pulled out a poster of hideous eye infections to illustrate his point. What the heck, dude? He hadn't even assessed my eyes at this point, but I was concerned. Was there something wrong with me eyes? Upon examining my eyes he found no problems (thank GOD!), but I was still shaking. He continued his rant about how people overuse their contacts and then come into the office complaining that they scratched their eye, which he said is impossible to do. I couldn't help it, but I had to interrupt him and point out that my husband did indeed wake up one recent morning with a terrible searing pain in his eye that turned out to be a scratch. He was treated with antibiotic drops and felt better. The "doctor" then backtracked and said it was certainly possible, but not often. I think it's time to find alternative eye care. Fear mongering isn't appreciated, especially when it's unwarranted and directed at me while I'm sitting in an exam chair. So take note, doctors, keep your fears to yourself.

Success

I have to admit that lately I've been very interested in spirituality. Maybe it started a couple years ago when I read Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert. Her exploration of three different countries and cultures helped to heal her soul and put meaning back into her life. I just finished listening to an audio book of Deepak Chopra's called The Seven Spiritual Laws of Success. I love Deepak, I really do. I've read a few of his books and thoroughly enjoyed them, but they were challenging to get through. Deepak doesn't fluff his writing. Every single sentence is meaningful, thus making it impossible to read quickly or leisurely. Mostly, I find myself reading and re-reading specific sentences and paragraphs. When listening to this audio book I was constantly rewinding so that I could receive the full impact of his messages. It turns out there is also a DVD version of the book. I watched that, too. His book promotes positive thinking and living, and the 7 laws are simple. Check out the extremely condensed summary of each law, along with suggestions for daily practice HERE. I absolutely believe the world would be a better place if more people read books with messages like those that Deepak conveys.

Practice silencing your mind. Wish people well when you come into contact with them. Don't be hasty in actions: think of the potential consequences beforehand and focus on bringing good things into people's lives. Accept things as they are (within reason, of course). Ask yourself: What do I desire? Don't force things. Find your unique talent and use it to serve humanity.

Spatial Awareness

Recently I have noticed that people have very little spacial awareness. This evening I was at Wegmans trying to get some produce and meat for supper, and I was continuously encountering people who were just standing around in La-la Land. I must have said excuse me at least 20 times, and the people would eventually move but not without bumping into my cart or a store display. Coming down aisles I was greeted frequently by carts just sitting in the middle of the aisle while their drivers were gazing blankly at the shelves. When are people going to realize that they are in my way?! (Ha-ha!) Seriously, though, a little bit of social awareness in public wouldn't hurt any of us, and it would probably allow more people to be more time efficient.

Tick Tock

So here in the U.S we have exited Daylight Savings Time. It's lighter earlier in the morning and darker earlier in the evening. I was a little excited by this since my body CANNOT wake up when it's dark outside. It doesn't matter how many hours of sleep I amass, if it's dark outside my body refuses to wake up. Because of this I am a chronic snooze button presser. This usually results in me racing around like a chicken with my head cut off in the morning while I try to get ready for work and be out the door in hopes of beating the morning rush and getting there on time. Most of the time it works, too. But it's a horrible way to start the day. I'd prefer a calmer entry, but unless the sun is willing to cooperate I'm afraid all will remain as is for now. I don't mind the darkness settling in early for the evening because it's cold outside anyway and I won't be venturing out there for much. Plus, I'm exhausted at the end of the day and prefer to work out, go home, eat, and jump in bed early to read myself to dreamland. The early darkness makes that easier. So, winter is on its way, bringing with it my favorite holiday: Christmas! The unofficial countdown has begun with Christmas music on the radio and store displays. Now if only people's moods were cheerier...

Full Circle

I'm all out of blogging ideas tonight, so you'll have to settle for my poor attempt at poetry.

Sadness raging
Darkness
Rushing thoughts
How did it happen?
When did it start?
Kicking and screaming
Violently fighting the questions arising
Negativity?
Naivete?
Ignorance?
Coming like waves
All at once
Powerful feelings
Charging in
Relentless
Giving up
Barriers breaking and
Tears flowing
Rivers
Body trembling
Clarity and peace
Calm.

Garth Parties On

Sometimes stuff happens and I feel like I'm in the Twilight Zone because I can't believe this crap could actually happen. Other times, like today, I feel like I am stuck going through a revolving door and cannot exit.

I was reminded of this two times today: Once when I was actually going through the revolving door at the gym, and twice when I got home and heard the SAME news story on the television that has been playing for days. It's THE most ridiculous news story, at least in the way it has been presented. Apparently some guy wandered into a city elementary school during a Halloween celebration and "fondled" two different teachers in two different classrooms. Then he walked out of the school intact. Up until today police weren't sure who the guy was. Did you pay attention to the "fondled" part? He didn't attack them, he FONDLED them. So, how did the guy get away with no injuries? Those teachers should have broken his hands and anything else they could grab. But really, "fondled"? It makes it sound like it was some sort of ridiculous movie. And why do they keep playing the story over and over on the news? It's the same information every day. Each morning and evening this week I have felt like Bill Murray in Groundhog Day, except his radio is my television.

Click here for news segment

News update: the fondler's name is Garth (Wayne's World?) and he left his wallet behind at the scene, which is what led police to find him (where's Jay Leno? I have a stupid criminal for him!). Oh, and he was already on parole for some other crime. I'm shocked. Well, party on, Garth.

Sim City

Today I skipped the gym to go home and relax. Ha! Relax, I did not. As I turned onto my street I noticed everyone outside raking their leaves. (Well, except for our neighbor across the street who was mowing his, but I'll get to that later.) Part guilt and part motivation forced me to pick up our rake and join the neighbors. The neighbors next door to us are foreign, and three years ago the grandmother and I were both outside raking on Halloween when she approached me. We hadn't really met yet, and I was excited that she might be friendly. I put down my rake and joined her at the property line. Expecting formalities and niceties, I was thrown off balance when she started yelling at me. Her English was not very good, but I was able to pick out enough words to understand that she was yelling at me for the leaves in her yard. Apparently she had been outside everyday raking and raking and everyday our tree would dump more leaves in her yard. Ummm, how does one respond to that? I think I said something to the tune of, "Well, maybe you should wait to rake until all of the leaves fall off the tree."

So when I walked into the front yard this afternoon and saw her raking her leaves, my anxiety level instantly elevated. Actually, I was kind of hoping she would come over to harass me about my leaves in her yard so I could bring several facts to her attention: they hadn't mowed their backyard all summer, so it was a field of tall grass giving refuge to God knows what creatures; they throw their garbage out their upstairs back window and then bag up what the crows and mice haven't eaten on garbage day, dragging no less than 10 bags to the road; they honk car horns at all hours of the day and night, throwing my husband and I into fits of psychotic rage when we're awoken at 2 in the morning on a work day. She never did say anything today, though, so I didn't get a chance to enlighten her with these facts.

I think you should meet some of my other neighbors, though, so that you can truly experience life on my street. My husband and I joke that it's like a Sim City.

We have Van Man, who works nights and drove a white bomber van for the first two years we lived here. Our early bedtime was consistently interrupted when his van would start and the foreign neighbors honked. Van Man now has a new van. It's white.

Then there's Karate Lady. We first got a glimpse of her when she was outside in her driveway doing, well, karate. Sounds and all. With a bo staff. It is quite the treat to witness this performance.

Meet Poison Ivy, our other neighbors, who let their back yard turn into a poison ivy breeding ground. Her youngest daughter had had a rash for years, but she could never figure out what it was from. Once it started creeping under their fence onto our property, we tried killing it with chemicals, but to no avail. Finally, another neighbor who works in the emergency room at a nearby hospital gave my husband a "bunny suit" (A.K.A Haz-Mat suit) so that he could tackle it. One vine was growing up our tree, so it had to go. Due to 20 plus years of ignorance, the vine was so thick we had to chop it with an axe.

He still got poison ivy, even with the suit!



There's Chores, the guy who makes his kids do all the yard work while he sits on his little bench and supervises. And his neighbor, who we don't have a name for, is in love with his leaf blower and constantly uses it to clean the street in front of his house. Then he washes the street.

Welcome to my Sim City, except I didn't get to choose the characters. I wonder what role we are filling?

Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

Have you ever read the children's book titled Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day? If not, you should. It chronicles the worst day of Alexander's life, one so bad, in fact, that he wishes he could move to Australia. Life would have to be pretty bad to wish for that! ;)

Today is not my worst day, but it's not great, either. It's pretty close to Alexander's, though (read it if you haven't). I woke up on the wrong side of the bed, cranky and tired. Tired because I went to bed late, and cranky because I'm tired. And it might be closing in on that time of the month. (I always refused to believe that this body cycle thing could actually affect someone's mood, but as I get older I am finding truth in it.)

Examples of how my day is off-kilter? Let's see....I spilled my tea on me while getting into my car; my purse fell off my arm this morning on my way into work and the ground was wet with snow; my lesson was rubbish; I dropped my drink in the hallway on the way back to my room - TWICE!; people are behaving strangely, thus making things awkward; the sound of my clock is getting on my nerves every time it changes minutes; people are asking me ridiculous questions; it's cold out. I would like nothing more than to put my jammies on and climb into my bed with a freshly heated heat bag. But it's only lunch time and that would be impossible. I have an appointment after school and class tonight. My only hope is that I will be able to fall asleep quickly tonight to release this grumpy feeling.

Halloween

Halloween. What can I say? Loved it as a kid, but can't really get into it as an adult.

I enjoy dressing up for work when everyone else participates also, but there's something a little creepy about adults without children handing out candy to other children. And while we're here, let's talk about that whole concept. Who came up with the idea of having kids go around to people's houses and beg for candy? It's a bit bizarre.

This year we had about 30 trick or treat-ers, give or take. I bought a large bag of candy at Sam's Club that had 110 pieces of Hershey's chocolate: Hershey's bars, Almond Joys, Reese's Peanut Butter Cups, Kit Kats, and Whoppers (malted milk balls). In past years I've been annoyed by the rudeness of trick-or-treaters: No thank-you's, no Happy Halloween's, and lots of asking for more candy than what they've been given. This year, however, I found the kids who came by to be more well-mannered. Only a handful of the kids stood there with bags still open after receiving their candy.

I do feel like there should be an age limit. I think my parents made me stop after 8th grade, and I think that's a good time. I don't enjoy opening the door to 6 foot tall masked figures begging for candy. There should also be a time limit. When Halloween falls on a Sunday or weeknight, it should be understood that trick-or-treating stops at 8 p.m. People have to get ready for work the following day and don't appreciate people in costume banging at their door late at night. And, why would someone allow their school-age trick-or-treating child to be up and out that late?

Maybe I'm turning into a humbug, or maybe my points are valid. I hope you all had a Happy Halloween!

PS - Do people in other countries celebrate Halloween? Is it similar to the way Americans celebrate?

Kudos to the Sandpaper Fist

Everyone has experienced the Sandpaper Fist at least once. I didn't coin this phrase - it actually came from a friend of my husband's. I shouldn't have to explain it to you either, because if you've experienced it you know it. *

I would like to recognize the SPF for being a regular presence in my life. Sometimes it brings me great laughter, and other times it just, well, hurts. So, kudos to the Sandpaper Fist! Where would I be without you?




*If you need further explanation, email me and I'll explain.

Pare it down

I feel like I need to write tonight, but I am suffering from some serious writer's block. For like the first time in oh, let's see....EVER, I cannot think of a blog-worthy topic. S0 I'm going to revert to a journal-style blog tonight in which I recap my day for you, and maybe by the end I'll find something important to pull out of it.

Today I spent the day with my mother-in-law and aunt-in-law cleaning out my grandmother-in-law's house. (For those of you that have not been following regularly, she passed away on Monday). Fortunately for us, she was a very neat and organized person and out clean-out session was very productive. We made it through three bedrooms in about five hours, and I'm talking dressers, closets, and everything in between. Many things were donated to the Rescue Mission. Participating in this task today made me realize how much crap I'm holding onto and cramming into my own house. I have a hard time letting go of things because somewhere during my life someone must have drilled into my head that I might be able to find a use for them some day. But after cleaning out a well-organized person's house today I realized that in the end it's all just stuff that nobody else really wants. It only becomes a burden for the people left to clean up after you when you've gone. Needless to say, I've been inspired to go through my own things and pare down. Starting tomorrow.

For anyone else that is also inspired, or maybe those of you that need some inspiration:

http://organizedhome.com/
http://www.getridofthings.com/get-rid-of-stuff.htm
http://blisstree.com/live/how-to-start-getting-rid-of-stuff-get-rid-of-maybe-items-207/
http://www.discardia.com/2003/09/getting_rid_of_.html
http://www.fool.com/personal-finance/general/2007/08/29/get-rid-of-your-stuff.aspx
http://ezinearticles.com/?Top-7-Questions-To-Help-You-Get-Rid-Of-Stuff&id=500714

They Come

I don't know anyone that enjoys funerals, but I find that I particularly hate them. Mostly. I do like that family you might not often see gets to reconnect, even if only for a short time and under unfortunate circumstances.

I like wakes (for what they can do for a grieving family, not because I think they are fun). As a family member it's wonderfully comforting to see people come to say their goodbyes to your loved one. It reminds you that they were valued in their lifetime, and that people liked them enough to bare the elements to come say goodbye. That's a testament to their earthly life. I also love the stories that people share of your loved one. You know that family member in many ways, but their friends and other people are often able to relay stories that widen your perception of your loved one. It helps to create a different picture of that person and can put a smile on your saddened face.

I like to think that our loved ones who have passed attend their own wakes and funerals. On a couple occasions I have actually found that to be true. When my grandfather died about five years ago we took him (his body) for one last drive past my grandparent's house on our way from the funeral home to the church. The hearse led the way, stopping in front of the house. We pulled up behind the hearse and my dad rolled down the window and said something like, "One last drive past the house, Dad. Say goodbye." It was a cold, rainy, and dismal January day. There was no breeze outside; the air was very still. As we all looked toward the house, the limp American flag on the flag pole lifted up and stood at attention. It then started flapping wildly, even though there wasn't any breeze. My grandfather was a World War 2 Navy veteran that had lied his age to serve in the South Pacific. He loved his country as much as he loved his family, and for years he wore an American flag design bucket hat wherever he went. When we saw that flag start wildly waving, we knew it was my grandpa. As we started driving away, the flag dropped to its original droopy position. At the beginning of his funeral mass the lights went out for about a minute, then came back on. Call me crazy, but I believe that was his way of saying he was there with us.

Here's another example. Today was my husband's grandmother's funeral. She was a woman with a very funny sense of humor, so earlier in the week I told him to pay attention today because it could be likely his grandmother would send some sort of sign. We got it at the cemetery. It was the end of the pastor's speaking part, and she threw a handful of dirt on the casket. Others came forward to do the same. The sun went behind the clouds and hail started falling sideways. This little hail storm didn't end until the last handful of dirt was thrown on her casket, and it didn't hail for the rest of the day. My husband squeezed my hand and laughed. We knew his grandma was there making her presence known (and probably saying, "Stop throwing dirt on me!"). Even the funeral director mentioned the extraordinary event.

I do think our loved ones have ways of letting us know they have safely passed into the next life, and we can see these ways if we pay attention and allow our minds to be open.

This is a quote that was read at Gen's funeral today, and I think it's just a perfect tribute to her life.

"Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly proclaiming, 'Wow! What a Ride!"

Be sure to enjoy the people you love while they are on this earth.

Purple or Pink?

Rough day. My head hurt for most of it and I couldn't get a single productive thing done at work. All I want to do is collapse in my bed with a book. I'm never at a loss for something good to read, but today I got lucky. A book I saw at Barnes and Noble (and later ordered from Borders with a gift card) greeted me on my doorstep this afternoon. THAT put a smile on my face. The author is Robert I. Sutton, PhD, and I'll let you do some internet searching to figure out the title. I CANNOT WAIT to read it!

Here's the gist. We all come in contact with people that irritate us on a regular basis. We might even find ourselves saying, "What an asshole!" I find that I am feeling this way more and more lately, but it helps to surround yourself with positive people to offset the irritations caused by others. I seriously don't understand why people can't be nicer to each other. It seems like people are quite competitive with each other, and thus less likely to help each other. I feel like so many people just want so badly to get recognized for their accomplishments that they have no problems pushing other people out of the way via means of backstabbing, bullying, or pulling stunts to make others look bad (or they want attention off themselves so they blow other people in). And yet we continue to show signs of being a society of mediocrity. Here is my wish. I wish people would just do their job as it is defined and be helpful to others. I really don't think that's so hard. As a result, people would probably be happier. This might lead to people being less stressed and thus healthier. I think all of our lives would improve if we only stopped focusing on ourselves and how we are perceived by others, and instead started focusing on how our actions affect others. Let's be more considerate. Wear as many colors together as you can tomorrow to show your support of a kinder, happier, more unified society of people! (keep reading and you'll understand this)

When I logged onto Facebook this afternoon I noticed that apparently people were supposed to wear purple today to show support for the anti-bullying of gays. It turns out I had worn purple today. Coincidentally. But it was nice to know I had contributed to a positive movement in some way. I scrolled down the page a little ways and noticed that today is also Breast Cancer Awareness Day, which means we were supposed to wear pink in support. Who decides the dates of such clothing support, and why were they on the same day? My gut feeling is that since Breast Cancer Awareness has been around for years, today should have been pink day. How frustrating for people who wanted to support both causes! Purple and pink don't really go together well, unless they are in a patterned design. Not to mention the fact that most men don't own purple OR pink, so that eliminates most of their support. So again, who decides? And why the show of colors? How are the colors decided? If a person doesn't wear that color, is it assumed by others that he or she doesn't support that particular cause? I'm just confused....someone please explain.

I can't wait to hear about your Thursday outfit choices!

Loss

Dying is a part of life, unfortunately. I don't think anybody really wants to die. To quote the singer/songwriter Kenny Chesney, "Everybody wants to go to heaven, but nobody wants to go now." There's a part of all of us that knows death is inevitable, and most of us fear it. Maybe that fear comes from not knowing what is in store for us after death, or from feeling like we're not ready. We have ideas about what life is like after death, but I guess none of us really know for sure. Death carries a tremendous amount of mystery and uncertainty with it.

I've read a lot of books about the afterlife, specifically those written by psychics and mediums who proclaim to be knowledgeable in that area. I guess one day we'll all discover the truth, but until then I'd like to think that there is life after death and that it's just as glorious and perfect as the Bible and these mediums say. As you know from reading my previous post, I had the privilege of attending a John Edward show this past weekend. One of the most important things I took from his show was that there is no pain on The Other Side. Any pain people experienced in this life before crossing over goes away. That is very comforting to hear, especially since two of my grandparents have crossed over after being in a lot of physical pain. I like to believe that their pain does not follow them to the next life. We don't want anyone we love to be in pain. Yet while these thoughts of the afterlife are comforting, they don't make dealing with loss any easier.

My husband's family has suffered a great loss today. My prayers are with this person's soul, and I hope that on her soul's journey to heaven she experiences true love, happiness, and peace as she is reunited with loved ones who have passed before her. May God bless and bring comfort to her family in this time of sadness.

Pumpkins are better than men

versus

Today I went to a John Edward (psychic, not politician) event. I volunteer at a venue in downtown Syracuse, so I not only got to watch for free but I had the opportunity to be a microphone runner. Such an interesting experience.

On the way home, I heard the end of a radio joke about how pumpkins are better than men.

1. Every year you get a brand new crop to choose from.

2. No matter what your mood is, pumpkins are always ready to greet you with a smile.

3. One usually makes a better pie.

4. They are always on the doorstep there waiting for you!

5. If you don’t like the way he looks, you just carve up another face.

6. If he starts smelling up your place, you can just throw him out.

7. From the start you know a pumpkin has an empty, mush filled head to begin with.

8. A pumpkin is turned on (lit-up) only when you want him to be.

As funny as some of these might be, I can probably think of 8 reasons why men are better than pumpkins.

1. Pumpkins can't love you back.

2. Pumpkins aren't good cuddlers.

3. Pumpkins won't warm up your bed on a cold winter night.

4. Pumpkins can't give you children.

5. Pumpkins can't give you a kiss goodnight.

6. Pumpkins can't have a conversation with you (if yours can, that's an entirely different issue)

7. Pumpkins can't help you navigate through life's tough moments (unless you can throw your pumpkin at someone or something)

8. Pumpkins can't give you a lifetime of cherished memories.

Pumpkins are seasonal and usually overstay their welcome. Not many people want to see a pumpkin past Halloween, and Thanksgiving is pushing it (especially if there is an early snowfall). Pumpkins can't dry your tears, comfort a bruised heart, or offer a hug. Pumpkins can't build decks, remodel kitchens, or repair broken pipes.

I'd take my man over a pumpkin any day.

Courtesy Curtsy

This afternoon became a "me" afternoon. I inadvertently left my gym bag at home this morning after fighting with Moe to go downstairs and rushing out the door to get to work on time. Then my after-school tutoring session was canceled. So, with nowhere in particular to go except an empty house, I took off for my second-favorite place: Barnes & Noble. Barnes & Noble is to me what a candy store is to children. I always start by perusing the new arrivals. About five books into my scan, I came across a book with the title, Is It Just Me?: Or Is It Nuts Out There? I was immediately interested. Then I saw the author. Whoopi Goldberg. Now, I don't mind Whoopi, but she can be strongly opinionated and outspoken and she's pretty much the reason I stopped watching The View. But something made me open the cover and read the inside flap.

Here's a short excerpt: "Have you noticed that things aren't as civil as they once were? Or that rudeness is no longer an exception but a lifestyle? Sure you have. All you need to do is set foot outside your door to see that bad manners are taking over everywhere. People are yakking on cell phones in restaurants, even at church. Folks in carpools wear enough cologne to make our eyes bleed. Complete strangers think it's OK to rub a pregnant lady's belly. Passengers abuse flight attendants, family outings to the ball park are ruined by rowdy drunks . . . a congressman heckled the President of the United States."


Heck yes, I've noticed! Who hasn't? I've been in a movie theater when a woman not only left her cell phone on so that it rang, but she then ANSWERED it THREE times and had short conversations. Loudly. On my way to Barnes & Noble a woman did an illegal U-turn in the street and then opened her window and proceeded to yell at me for not giving her enough room. On my way into Barnes & Noble in fact, a woman on her cell phone let the door slam in my face TWICE. That was all just within a half-hour.

It's highly coincidental that I would stumble upon this book today, because yesterday while walking through our neighborhood I noticed that people are lacking basic social courtesies. When I was a kid we were taught to say hello to people we knew. I'm not referencing strangers here, because stranger-danger was drilled into our heads, too. (In my family we had code words and the whole shebang). I'm talking about neighbors that I live next to not saying hello or giving a wave when they see you outside. Countless times I've given the wave and smile and gotten a blank stare in return. While I'm standing in my driveway and them in theirs. Talk about an awkward moment. While walking yesterday I saw a neighbor approaching with his young kid and dog. We were the only people on the street. As they got closer I opened my mouth to say "hi", but stopped when I realized the man put his head down and wasn't going to reciprocate. I wanted to scream, "Hey, remember me? I bought a pond at your yard sale and you offered to walk it over to my house. We had a conversation, albeit a short one, but a conversation nonetheless! How can you pretend we don't know each other?" When did looking people in the eyes and exchanging a cordial greeting become the way of the past? No wonder people have so many relationship problems - we don't know how to communicate! And what happened to common courtesy? It's apparently out to lunch with common sense.


Ron Clark wrote a book titled The Essential 55: An Award-Winning Educator's Rules for Discovering the Successful Student in Every Child. It specifies 55 essential rules to basically prevent kids from becoming adult jackasses. Look a person in the eyes when they are speaking to you. Wash your hands before you eat. Stand to the right on escalators. Basic information that some people already know and incorporate into their daily living, but that most people need to learn. I think we could all benefit from a trip back to kindergarten to learn simple manners because it's so clear that people have either forgotten them, don't care about them, or never learned them in the first place. Before we try to fix the bigger problems of the world (world peace?), I think we should start examining our own daily practices and rethink how and why we treat the people we encounter on a daily basis like they are invisible. Practice a little common courtesy. Hold the door for someone. Let someone merge in traffic. Say hello to a co-worker. Maybe even ask him or her how they are doing. You never know, you might find an unexpected friend. Maybe you won't. But at least you won't be perceived as a total jerk.

Provide for the pets

I don't know about anyone else, but those ASPCA commercials rip my heart out and make my eyes tear every single time they play over the television. The faces of the little animals are so sad!

As a kid I had a guinea pig for a little while until I woke up one morning to find her (Twinkles) missing from her cage. Apparently she had died the previous day and I hadn't noticed, so my parents removed her dead body and we later buried it in the backyard. A few years later I was able to convince my parents that despite my previous track record I was older and more responsible so they bought me a hamster. I named her Chip Mint, after my favorite ice cream. We bought her a three-floored "hotel" with metal cage-style walls and a red bottom. I cleaned her cage semi-regularly and played with her a lot. We even bought one of those clear exercise balls for her to run around the house. I didn't really like picking her up though. She was quick and her claws freaked me out when they touched the skin on my hands. The gate on her cage was faulty and she got out more than one time. Once she was missing in the house for three days. I think my brother finally found her behind the couch. Another time my brother and his friend took her out to play with her, but they got distracted. She wandered off and was found a few days later. Needless to say, I really wasn't proving to be the best pet caretaker. So it wasn't surprising that my parents wouldn't get my brother and I a dog. Until one day...

I was sitting at the dining room table one Wednesday evening making campaign cards for 8th grade student council elections. My dad came in from work and told my brother to go out to his truck and grab his gym bag. My brother came in with the cutest little beagle puppy! While my brother and I were elated, my mother was not. She closed herself in my parents' bedroom for the night. Anyway, we named the puppy "Willy" and we had him for twelve years. He was a great dog for most of his life, although in his last years he was quite mischievous. Making up for lost time I guess. I wonder how much money my dad spent bailing him out of the pound.

Then almost a year ago we adopted our cat, Moe. For those of you who are not familiar with the story, Moe just kind of showed up at our house at the beginning of last summer. He'd watch our house from the yard across the street, and then eventually ventured into our yard. He slept in our front flower bed and finally nudged his way into our hearts. He laid on my husband's lap on the back deck and followed me around giving me hugs and sweet talking me. As the weather turned cold we decided to make him part of our family. I am so glad we did. He is our little Moe :)


Anyway, I think it's because of my recent experience in adult pet ownership that I turn overly emotional at the glimpse of an ASPCA commercial. This month's service project at school is Pennies for Pets, which will support local shelters with food, money, and other supplies. But here is one thing I don't understand. The list of items needed includes cat and dog food, but they only want IAMS (which was recently recalled) and Pedigree. Now, those are two of the most expensive brands of pet food (IAMS cat food can cost upward of $8 per small bag!). I don't even buy that food for Moe. So I'm wondering two things. Are they requesting that food because it's the best and I should be feeding that to my cat? If they are in desperate need for food and supplies, should they really be requesting the most expensive products? I hate to use this saying here, but it keeps popping into my head. Can beggars really be choosers in this scenario? Wouldn't they get more food to feed more animals if they weren't so picky? My husband's previous cat ate Meow Mix for the entire 16 years of his life. Are the less expensive brands really worse? I've tried buying the more expensive and supposedly healthier brands, but Moe won't even touch the food. I'd love to donate some food to the shelter, but I'm not buying the prim o brands that I don't even buy for my own cat.

UFOs

Let's say I saw a UFO. I would be in such a state of excitement, fear, and awe that I would want to tell people. But I wouldn't tell anyone. Why? Because anytime I see a news report of a UFO sighting, it's usually by some "dumb redneck hick" (not my words, thus the quotes), which immediately discredits the report. And everyone would think I was either certifiably crazy or joking around. Doesn't anyone outside of this stereotype witness UFO sightings? Apparently so.

Click here.

The Chinese certainly have had their share this year. Clicking here might give you goosebumps.

Hawaii, too.

Then do your own search.

I know I'm risking mockery by putting this out there, but I saw something very similar in Syracuse yesterday afternoon. Three orbs moving first in a straight line and then into a triangle, followed by more than ten single aircrafts with glowing comet-like tails that faded quickly, not like airplane exhaust trails. All going in the same point of direction. I don't know what they were, but they were fast and quiet and made me feel like I had been transplanted into the filming of the movie, Signs. That's all I'm saying.

Nothing HOSPITAbLe about it

My husband's grandmother is in the intensive care unit at one of the local hospitals (prayers please!), and his family has been very happy with the care she has been given. I stopped at the hospital today to see how she was doing and to see if I could be of any assistance for his parents (food or coffee runs, etc.). You should know that I hate hospitals. I always have. From the moment I walk in the doors that hospital smell causes my entire body to feel weak. Couple that with my germophobic tendencies and we've got What About Bob? part 2. Anyway, once I finally stepped into the cubicle that is called a room in the ICU, I was bombarded with sounds. Beeping monitors, loud gushes from some sort of oxygen apparatus, beeping from the IV bag thingy. Immediately my own anxiety went into overdrive. How in the world is anyone supposed to actually recover in the hospital when there are so many noises distracting patients from sleep? After all of these years of medical advancements we can't do better that this? I'm finding this so hard to believe. Our healthcare system is a mess, there is no doubt about that, but what is going on that our hospitals aren't quieter and more conducive to recovery? No wonder so many people refuse to go to doctors or into hospitals when they are ill. It's quieter at home!

There was a sign hanging from the ceiling when I first approached the ICU wing that said something to the effect of, "Every person entering the ICU must first wash their hands or use alcoholic gel sanitizer". I immediately started looking on the walls for sanitizer. A nurse approached me and asked me if I was lost, to which I replied, "No, I'm looking for hand sanitizer." She laughed, "Oh, you're probably the first person to actually read that sign and do what it says." What??? You mean to tell me that in a part of the hospital where it is most crucial for patients not to be exposed to germs and harmful bacteria, there is nothing but a SIGN monitoring people's hygiene? We're going on pure faith that humankind will follow directions and do what they're asked to do? I've been in the bathroom at the gym. I have seen too many women bypass the sink after emerging from the stall. There should be a scary Hulk Hogan-style man standing at the entrance to the ICU with a giant bottle of hand sanitizer forcing people to de-germ! Aaaaahhhhh!!!

Long la-long long long

Well, this has been the absolute longest week! The rainy, gloomy days coupled with the fall chill has made the days blend together. Excitement surged through me at the gym this afternoon when for a split second I thought today was Friday. It sure does feel like Friday.

I can't even remember what I did on Monday besides work and visit the gym. Tuesday I worked, went to dinner with a friend, and sat through a fantastic lecture by Michael Pollan. That was a LONG day, mostly because I left home at daybreak and didn't return until almost ten o'clock. Then yesterday I tutored after work, raced home and scarfed dinner only to bolt out the door to my knitting class and get stung by a bee on the way, forcing me to drive home and doctor it. (By the way, who gets stung at seven o'clock in the evening in October in New York? And on the back of my heel, no less!) Luckily, being a few minutes late to my class wasn't a big deal. I know how to knit, having learned as a child and then relearning as an adult five years ago. I have a gazillion hats and scarves, so I thought it might be neat to venture onto something more exciting - a sweater! I picked a short-sleeved cardigan so it wouldn't be as involved as a long-sleeved sweater. I absolutely love the picture.

I chose a multi-colored thin cotton yarn (in different colors than the picture - rusty red, pale yellow, sage green, khaki, and white twisted together) so that the cardigan can be worn alone in warm weather as well as over a long-sleeved shirt in cooler weather (I'm always thinking!). Well, I went with my pattern to this class (and for those non-knitters out there) and had already started a tension square to figure out my gauge for the pattern. I had been hoping the instructor could help me figure out how to problem-solve that my square was about 1/2-inch over gauge. She had me rip it out and start again on smaller needles. I knit another square, we measured it, and decided it was pretty close to gauge so I tore it out and cast on 97 stitches. I did two rows after that before the instructor came over and said she made a measuring mistake. I had to rip out the two rows of 97 stitched and knit another freaking tension square. Two hours of class and all I came home with were two cramped hands and a stupid tension square that wouldn't even pass as a coaster. I'm hoping next week's class goes better! My goal is to finish the cardigan by Christmas, so encourage me whenever you can!

The F Word

The F word is the most useful and versatile word in the English language, in my opinion. You can use it as an adjective, as a noun, and as a verb. It also happens to be the word most used by yours truly in a hairy situation, especially when driving in a lost stupor around downtown Syracuse on a rainy night. Like tonight. Although I argue that there isn't much choosing involved when that word is used (at least for me). It's an involuntary reaction, like when the doctor hits your knee with that thingy and you kick your leg out. You don't intend to do it, it just happens.

Knowing I would be in downtown Syracuse for an event this evening, I called a friend and met her for dinner. Or tried to. Downtown was a traffic and parking nightmare. Apparently there were two events going on the same night. Note to Syracuse honchos organizing this stuff: Don't do that! After a half-hour of navigating around one-way streets and closed streets (F word!), I slipped into a street parking spot while my friend paid for lot parking. We had an enjoyable Mexican feast, but getting to that point was hairy.

Our local library system in Syracuse (Onondaga County) is AWESOME! Not only is it connected in such a way that patrons have access to a plethora of books from every linked library, but it sponsors a library lecture series that brings bestselling authors to Syracuse. Two years ago I went to see Neil DeGrasse Tyson and loved the experience. Last year I went to hear Geraldine Brooks (People of the Book and March) and Khaled Hosseini (The Kite Runner and A Thousand Splendid Suns). And because my mother-in-law donated me her ticket to tonight's lecture, I was able to see and hear Michael Pollan (author of books such as The Botany of Desire, The Omnivore's Dilemma, and In Defense of Food, among others) after my Mexican feast. I think his books are worth reading. He presented some very valid points tonight as he debated the health crisis revolving around American foods. Here were some of the highlights:

• Americans spend the most time analyzing food and looking for food with the healthiest nutrients, yet we are also the ones with the most cases of heart disease, cancer, diabetes, and obesity.
• Americans rely on government studies and doctors to know what to eat, yet the science of nutrition is very young and is approximately where the science of surgery was in the 1600s. Basically, it's ludicrous to organize our lives around an uncertain science.
• Americans eat until they are full, whereas other cultures like the French and Japanese only eat until they are no longer hungry. Very different things.
• We're always looking for an easy fix , but don't want to throw out this diet of over-processed, overly refined "foods" we've created and marketed as being "healthy" and "nutritious".
• We have to change the way we eat by going backwards to the way our ancestors ate. Good rule of thumb to follow while shopping: Would my great grandmother recognize this as food? (Example: go-gurt, fruit roll-up)
• Start thinking about where your food came from before you put it in your mouth

I left the auditorium with a buzz and a skip in my step, which stayed with me until I started to leave the city toward home. I drove toward the on-ramp to the route that would get me home, but instead found it was closed and was detoured to God knows where. The F word. Ever notice that detours are like those tunnels in Super Mario that warp you to some unknown place? Not a good combination in the dark of a rainy night. The F word again. And my Garmin chose that moment to get stuck on the opening screen where it makes me agree that I will not touch it while I'm driving. Another F word. Finally, I figured out where I was and headed toward a different on-ramp. Road closed. Really big string of assorted versions of the F word. Solution? I drove around the barriers down the supposedly closed road and entered the highway. Bonus? The car behind me followed suit. And it wasn't a cop.

So apparently my word of choice in a spur of the moment hair-raising situation is not shucks, shoot, darn, or goodness gracious. If I were in England, perhaps it would be Bloody. Maybe I'll even start using that instead. It certainly sounds more elite and educated than my current word of choice.