I don't understand weather.

I think it's weird that it's so cold outside and yet still light at 6:05 pm. Does not compute.

Sparse

Out at sea for seven years

I got your letter in Tangiers

Thought that I'd been on a boat

'Til that single word you wrote

That single word it landlocked me

Turned the mast to cedar trees

And the wind to gravel roads

Idaho, oh Idaho

"Idaho" Josh Ritter

This song is sparse in the most wonderful way - acapella and quiet, like a lullaby. I'd never paid much attention to it; in fact, I think I usually forward through it, but now I want to visit Idaho.

The smell of spring...

...rotting flesh emanating from pretty flowering trees. Awesome. 

I hate Bradford Pears, and the neighborhood is lousy with them.

Hello everyone. I haven't forgotten about you; I've just been sick. Again. I'm on my 3rd round of antibiotics in as many months and am now expecting to die from something mundane like a paper cut. I hate being on these things, but what do you do if you can't get better?

Wow, that's a lot of snow.

7 inches of snow to be exact.
Wow, just wow.

Being sick sucks. That is all.

If you need an explanation for the title of this blog, here you go. I pulled a muscle in my sleep last night. Well, I wasn't really asleep; I was kind of half awake, and I felt when I did it. It's a muscle that I always have trouble with - between my neck and my shoulder - could be the trapezius if it's on the side, not just the back. Anyway, I don't know if I was doing windmills in my half-sleep or what, but WOW it hurt. It seems to have worked itself out during the rest of the night though, just a little sore this morning.  

Yeah, whatever.

I'm feeling all disconnected and emotionally ick tonight. Sigh. Also, the cold weather has made the skin on my hands crack; bottles of lotion have not made a dent. My thumb hurts and the crack on the side of it makes it hard to hit the space button. Double sigh. 

Maybe it will be better tomorrow. Lotion for the hands, then sleep, then a chance for a better, pain free tomorrow. Here's hoping...I wonder if that sentiment makes me optimistic or just stupid? But then my dog sniffs me like I might be some sort of imposter, and it makes me laugh and feel better. An optimist (against all odds), then, I guess.

So the house went on the market around noon yesterday and it's being shown today - gulp. My parents house in Jacksonville sold in like 2 days. I want the house to sell, and all, but not so fast!

I have on the most insane high heels right now, and they're actually comfortable. We'll see how I feel about 10 tonight (or five minutes from now for that matter).

If you could see me now...

...you would see me, near tears and close to hysterics, hopping from foot to foot and shaking my hands like I'm trying to dry them, all the while shouting "eww eww eww eww eww EWW!!!"

I dropped poop on my shoe. I'm traumatized. I've become a lot more zen about gross stuff since I got Elsa, but poop on the shoe is not something I can meditate away. I DROPPED POOP ON MY SHOE!!!

Eww eww eww eww eww eww eww. I thought I needed new shoes, and now I'm convinced I do.

It's such a beautiful day, and I can't get my arse off the couch. I have lots of pleasing outdoor activities to attend to; I just have to make it out the door. Cleaning and laundry can wait, right? Sun and 60 degree weather are much more pressing.

OK, here I go.

I think today is the perfect day to try out my new orange retro looking Auburn hoodie. 

But really, why don't eyeballs get cold?

I think this video - and the song that goes with it - is just lovely. Hope you enjoy it.

Why don't eyeballs get cold?

Deep breaths...in...out...in...out

It took me 1.5 hours to get home tonight - a distance of around 12-13 miles probably. All because some idiot driver flipped his semi and the double wide that was apparently on it. I was practically psychotic as I sat (and sat and sat) in traffic. I hate traffic. I would drive 30 miles out of my way just to avoid traffic. But every road, and I mean every road (because I pretty much tried them all), was a parking lot. Deep breaths...in...out...in...out...

I didn't think this day would come...

I think I've finally done something so mortifyingly embarrassing that I can't write about it here. That's bad folks. But in the "counting my blessings department," it could have been soooooo much worse. I just feel like I should maybe protect myself from the people out there who don't realize just how much of a spaz I am. My friends know the score and love me anyway, and if they had witnessed what happened - after they stopped guffawing - they would have comforted me and then laughed some more when it became apparent I wasn't really going to die from embarrassment. Sheesh - it's going to take a while to recover from this incident. 

Non-distress

You've got to love a problem that can be fixed with your dog's tennis balls (your dog's NEW tennis balls you should clarify)! It's not as nice as my mom's, but it's much better. The eggs have hatched and gone forth and prospered in all corners of the squares.

Distress

There is something seriously wrong with my down comforter. I just got it out (yes I know I'm a bit late), and it's just...wrong. I washed it last year before I put it away, which was actually in June (yes I know I was a bit late with that too). I didn't notice anything then, but now that I've put it on my bed, I don't even know how to explain it. I'm sure a lot of it can be explained by the fact that it's kind of cheap, but it's just bizarre. All of the down is in a clump in each of the little squares. It's like little eggs under the cover. I'm going to throw it in the dryer with some tennis balls and hope it makes everything spread out. If not, then I guess I'll be putting my comforter back on. 

Crap! I just bought new sheets and was really excited to have a pretty, soft bed. I'm trying to model it on the bed I sleep in at my mom's house. It's the best bed ever. The sheets are incredibly soft and the down comforter is all puffy and downy, and it's like you can just get lost in the bed. There's no way I'm getting lost in this bed. Crap!

Here's a picture of my new car. Let's take a look at the improvements over my former car:

Four doors.

Room for Elsa so she doesn't fall off the seat because she's too big to curl up on it.

Windows that go down and, most importantly, back up again.

A trunk that doesn't take the strength of Andre the Giant to open and doesn't threaten to close on you and snap you in half when it's cold.

A sunroof that doesn't have to be pushed to open.

A dashboard with nary a crack or view of the ground beneath.

I dashed out yesterday to Target and bought every possible auto protection/cleaner product I could. I always start with the best intentions...

It's completely childish.

What is wrong with me? Am I 8? Even in a relatively somber speech on a historic day, I can't NOT laugh when I hear the word "duty." It's just funny people.

And for a quick mini-rant: I wish all these people who keep saying that they're "finally proud to be an American" would just shut up! I think it's rude and disrespectful to all the people who have worked and sacrificed for the entire span of this country's existence. The historic magnitude of today should be just ANOTHER reason you're proud to be an American (and because I'm an American, I can say that. And because you are too, then you can disagree with me. And then we can both go on with our lives and the pursuits of our happiness. That's something to be proud of too.).

Anyway, yes, there are BIG problems. Yes, people in power have made some terrible decisions. Yes, we all hope that President Obama will save the world, the economy, the environment and invent calorie-less cupcakes. But you weren't proud of your heritage before today? That says more about you than the state of the country, I think.  

A book review, I guess

I'm actually reading two food books right now. The one I wrote about the other day and one called Julie and Julia: My Year of Cooking Dangerously. In order to stave off her biological clock and an impending nervous breakdown, Julie Powell (this is a true story, by the way) decided to cook every recipe - that's 524 - in Julia Child's seminal Mastering the Art of French Cooking. Hilarity, obscenities, offal and 10 pounds of butter induced weight gain ensue.

Anyway, it's been a really enjoyable book, and I'm sorry that I'm down to the last few pages. Although now I can comfort myself with her newest memoir, Cleaving: A Story of Marriage, Meat and Obsession. French cooking mastered, she goes on to try her hand at butchery.

So, as I said, an enjoyable read. It's not rocket science, or food science for that matter, just a little peek into a year in someone's life when they decide to do something a little crazy. But then there's this thought, and it takes the whole thing to a new level (for me at least):

I knew this because for nearly eleven months Julia had resided in my brain, in those drafty, capacious, hopeful apartments where the ghost of Santa Claus still placidly rattled about, along with my watchfully dead grandmother, and reincarnation and magic and everything else that couldn't survive out in the brighter hard highways of my mean metropolitan mind.

So lovely and real and universal. I'm sure we all have these places in us. Harry Potter, my alternate existence as a hippie in a yurt, the idea of soul mates and karma happily wander around in mine.

Food for Thought/Something to Chew On/Insert Your Own Food Pun Here

I'm reading a book on the psychology of food and eating called Mindless Eating: Why We Eat More Than We Think by Brian Wansink, Ph.D. This book is nuts. On almost every page is something that sounds completely insane and ridiculous, but totally bears out in real life.

For instance, Wansink found in a study of waiters that they could pretty consistently pick out which customers would order what kind of food. You're thinking "yeah right," right? They specifically focused a study on soups. There was a list of 5 soups that they concentrated on, and from those soups they built personality profiles for each one. Of the soups listed, I chose tomato (in pretty much any soup situation I would choose tomato). This is what tomato correlates with, based on their studies: "Tomato, The Affectionate Reader: Often a pet owner, and a creative, book-loving thinker." In the words of Sid the Sloth, "I don't like this cat. He reads minds."

Here's another crazy thing. This one is kind of intuitive, I guess, but still pretty cool. When it comes to your favorite food in a meal, do you eat it first or save it for last? I save for last. People like me who save for last are typically only children or the oldest. This is because as an only child, or the oldest, there is less competiton for food so you can afford to wait to eat your favorite thing.

One of the things I love about psychological studies like these is that it proves that no one is really that different - we all do the same dumb things for the same dumb reasons. I find that kind of comforting. Anyway, I've become a fan of food writing, and this is a good book to pick up if you are too. My next food book is Michael Pollan's The Omnivore's Dilemma. It sounds pretty interesting, but I'm not sure it could top this book for flat out "holy crap, I do that too" factor.

Music la la la la la

I wonder when iTunes new pricing goes into affect? There are 2 CDs I want (Alejandro Escoveda and Lucinda Williams) and I don't know whether to wait or buy them. With my luck if I wait for the new pricing, they'll be the CDs that go up to 14.99. I wonder how I can figure that part out too?

YAY!

I took the last of my nasty antibiotics 10 minutes ago. This is seriously a big deal; I never want to have to take whatever it was again! I'm trying to ignore the fact that I still don't feel all that great. I'm definitely better, but still not 100%. I don't think I'm ever going to get better. It's not just me either. I don't know what this is that's going around, but it's evil. Almost everyone I know has had it, gotten over it (kind of) and then a week later, gotten it again. It just doesn't want to go away and takes f-o-r-e-v-e-r to get over. Blerg.

Not to beat a dead horse, but...

...have I mentioned that I'm FREAKING OUT? I have no idea where I'm going to move, and I'm about to cry or possibly vomit. THE DOG seriously limits my options. I may end up in E. Nash. At least I have THE DOG to protect me.

Never Was a Cornflake Girl

I'm not sure I'm a scarf girl either. I looked cute yesterday - tan/black snakeskin flats, tan cords and a cute v-neck, long sleeve black shirt. I also wore a scarf. Here's the thing - I don't do winter well. I'm from Florida. I often forget to wear a coat and then have to rush back into the house to find one when I realize it's 30 degrees outside. Scarfs, hats and mittens - while very practical, and often very cute - kind of mystify me. So anyway, I was looking cute yesterday and decided to accesorize with a black scarf with two cute white embroidered birds. So it was part of the outfit, not just a cold weather blocker. I'm not sure about that. I wasn't sure about it yesterday, and upon (way too much) reflection, I'm still not sure about it today. The thing is, there were probably 3 other girls wearing scarves along with their outfits yesterday. I think they all looked really cute, although theirs were thinner, more gauzy scarves.

And since something like a scarf causes this much self reflection, maybe I should just stick with the scarf with coat model.

I'm checking out The Melrose tonight. I'll let you know how it is. In other, totally unrelated news, my dog, in her uncontainable excitement to see me, almost disemboweled me tonight. 

Freaking Out! Freaking Out!

I find out today when I will be homeless.

Something that is not one of my favorite things...

What's the deal with hot chocolate and how it settles down to the bottom of the mug? I could have made another cup today with all the sludge that was left over. I guess chocolate is heavier than water in a suspension (I totally don't know if I used that word right, but I will assume you all know what I'm talking about).

Anyway, it annoys me on many levels - practically, culinarily, metaphorically. Oh, I don't know. It was a long day; I'm tired.

Big Improvement

I have been awake all day - go me! There has been no napping on the couch, no giving up and going back to bed. I took Elsa on a walk and went to the mall and the grocery store. I did laundry and vacuumed. Boring stuff, but progress nonetheless. The nasty tasting, super-strong antibiotics are doing their job.  

Not that I'm complaining, but

why is it 60 degrees at 8:30 in the morning...in January?

Ok, I take back my voodoo wish from earlier; I got to leave early, which was nice. Now to the couch.

It's a sickness.

I just got back from the doctor's office where I was given super-strong antibiotics to get rid of the sinus infection that the first round of not super-strong antibiotics did not. I'm going on about 6-7 weeks of being sick now. It's awful and makes me really thankful that I don't have any kind of chronic illness.

I've tried not to whine about it too much, especially at work, although I'm sure I've whined about it plenty, but by the time I get home from work there is NOTHING left over for anything. The weekends? Same thing; I lay on the couch and sleep on and off for most of the day. I guess it's what my body has needed to keep functioning, but I'm tired of feeling so bad and having barely enough energy to make it through the day.

So I just took my first super-strong antibiotic and, unfortunately, I didn't take a big enough swallow of water to wash it down right away and it dissolved a little in my mouth. It may be the worst thing I've ever tasted - like I'm scared to take it again because it tasted so bad. It tasted like my dog smells, but a thousand times worse.

Now I get to go to work because "taking a sick day" apparently doesn't mean what I thought it did. Which I understand because we are insanely busy, and I said I would come in if they really needed me, but still, I wish I was contagious (for a select few at least).

My New Year's Eves are always crappy. Why is that?

Don't Go Towards the Light!

When I visited Nana on Christmas Day, I learned that Dad had been watering her poinsettia every day. In case you don't know me or this is your first time reading my blog, my dad is dead. Nana was also talking about Linda, my aunt, and Edith, my great aunt, both of whom are also deceased. It's a little creepy. I hope she knows to stay away from the light if the three of them come back. 

Do you have doubt?

One last thing, one last 2 sentence post for the night. You must go see "Doubt." It is incredible. I want to see it again, but up next is "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button." Hmmm...maybe that's a good Thursday recovery activity.

I just found this online, and it's hilarious. If it wasn't a cute little kitty, it would totally be the stuff of horror movies!

So I'm a little late to the game, apparently, but I have just fallen in love with Iron & Wine, who I initially resisted because I thought the name sounded like some awful 70's quaalude rock band. But Josh pointed out that I&W is just Sam Beam which makes the name more post-modern than annoying. I'm not so sure about that, but I do love the music.

That is all.

Today is the first day that the really stupid thing I did doesn't hurt. It's about time. You don't know how pleased I am about that. 

I know this might make me very unpopular, but I'm completely bored by this "Batman Begins to Return Forever" or whatever it's called - the one with the Joker. Yes, Heath Ledger is sufficiently creepy, but the movie is BORING! 

I hope by this time tomorrow I will be able to take a bath without boiling water, Little House on the Prairie style.

This day sucks.

Rage. 

Anger. 

Ire. 

Extreme irritation. 

Rage. Rage. Rage. Rage.

This is SO not even funny, but so par for the course for my family's luck.

aye aye aye

Every week it's the same - waves of relief that it's Friday again. Does anyone love their job so much they don't feel like this?

This is going to be a long and ramble-y one so settle in.

I like Christmas. Well, let me clarify, I like the idea of Christmas. I like Christmas trees and lights and ornaments. What I hate about Christmas is the rampant greed and stress of the season. It's ridiculous, and for the last couple of years my family has been trying to put a stop to most of that. It's really nice. While there might be things I want, there is NOTHING I need. So now we spend more money on helping people who need it, which - shocker - makes it fun again. I understand the desire of people with kids to do it a little differently, but once you reach a certain age, I'm not sure it's necessary anymore.

The other thing I hate about the holiday season, and Christmas specifically, is how it can make the average single person dread getting out bed and facing the onslaught of "every kiss begins with Kay" commercials. 'Tis the season to make you feel inadequate and alone, I guess. I knew I was in big trouble today when I saw a lone goose trying to catch up with 3 others and felt incredibly sad for the poor goose that was honking disconsolately as the others flew away.

So I guess the season has brought up some unresolved feelings about M. Of course, since up until a couple of months ago we still saw each other once a month or so and talked to each other semi-regularly, it's not like these are some long-buried feelings. I knew they were there - waiting for the opportune time to pop up and drive me crazy. There have been hints about trying again lately too. It's not that it's not tempting to have that question (you know, the "who will it be" question) answered. Especially if the answer is someone you love/d and thought you'd be with forever. Especially when that person tells you they feel the same way.

But something holds me back. I think mostly it's because I'm proud that I haven't settled and have managed to avoid the "getting older...have to find someone, anyone to be with" trap. I don't ever want to make a decision as important as a life partner just because I'm scared and lonely. At the same time, stubborn is high on the list of what makes me, me. He's stubborn as a mule, too, and I wonder sometimes if we both bent a little, what might happen.

I think the biggest reason we keep coming back to this place is that both of us wonder if we were just victims of incredibly bad timing. Here's a free piece of advice from me - never let your dad die 9 months into a relationship. The resultant breakdown is, surprisingly, not that great for fledgling romance and 3 years later we, ok I, still hadn't gotten past it. And yes there is that whole "commitment" thing, but there's also the whole "at some point it's your right and responsibility to save yourself when you're standing at the edge of a sucking emotional abyss" thing. So I don't judge him for leaving. He did what he thought he needed to. Sigh...it's just all so complicated.

Maybe it all comes down to what would I do if I wasn't so proud and so afraid and so stubborn? What would happen if I made a decision one way or the other? What would happen if he would? There are very few, if any, illusions here for either of us. I think we both know that going down in flames is the most likely outcome, but apparently there's something that whispers to both of us that it might be worth the risk. To close your eyes and leap or open them and be too scared to move, I guess that's the question. Not as concise as "to be or not to be," but basically the same thought process.  

One other thing, all of you out there who have opinions, and I know you all have opinions, keep them to yourself. It's not a round table discussion - no opinions or advice needed. I'm just thinking out loud.

I can't even tell you what I did; it's too ridiculous even for me.

If the last 10 minutes and the amount of blood are any indication - today's going to be a crappy day. How long are tetanus shots good for?

oh my darlin', oh my darlin'

The annual Feast of the Clementines has begun. Let us give thanks for Vitamin C and easy to peel citrus. 

I'm a little distressed, though, because I found this post from last year and the clementines were on sale for $3.99.  Stupid recession.

10 minutes later - I guess I should explain that the distress came from the fact that the clementines were on sale for $5 this year.

Words to live by anyone?

People who are unaccustomed to choosing often feel they have no choice because they don't like what the act of choosing requires: inconvenience, clarity, discipline, willingness to risk something new, courage. But those near-term hurdles are what let you win the long-term race. It's worth being inconvenienced if you have a lighter conscience. It's worth being gutsy if your choice lets you sleep at night. It's worth being a little more disciplined if it lets you feel your strength and inner power. It's worth sticking your neck out because that's how you get a life that doesn't suck. 

~ Michelle DeAngelis

apropos of nothing

I think "Sullivan Street" is an unfairly overlooked Counting Crows song. I have a live version of it that I love. Of course, nothing can beat "Raining in Baltimore," but it comes pretty close. I know, I know...me listening to the Counting Crows is never a good sign since they're kind of my go-to depressing music band, but really I'm more introspective than blue (at least I think I am), and they're good for that too.

Great, just great.

My friend told me I sounded like I had TB or emphysema. Nice. When will I be over this cough? I sound like I should be in a sanatorium. Actually, that sounds kind of nice except for the incurable illness part.

10 Minutes later - I thought sanatorium was spelled sani- as in sanitary. But it's not. Now you know.

Snow Dog

I just can't be in a bad mood when I see my dog. When I drove home tonight through all the slush and snow and beginnings of ice, it was just the beginning; I had to take Elsa out when I got home and I also thought I had to rush out to obedience class (but because of the slush, snow and beginnings of ice, I had a call on my answering machine telling me class was postponed until next week - yay!). I'm not sure she knows what snow is, based on her rather odd reaction. I was doubled over laughing as she took a step and then licked the slush, took a step and then ate some snow over and over again. She really should live in Alaska or something. She loves the cold and, apparently, snow. 

Peace, Acceptance or Whatever You Want to Call It

So, I'm about to write a post that I have no idea where it's going to go or even, really, what I'm trying to say. You'll have to forgive me - it's beginning to get late (for me); I'm still on some mind-altering cold medicine, and I *may* have had a glass of wine. 

I've talked before about fear and how I think it's the real opiate of the masses. But, I'm beginning to see how in my life, guilt/shame (which I know are considered very different things psychology-wise, but for the purposes of this post are going to be synonymous) play a pretty big role in keeping me stuck.

If you know me, you know I'm a big believer in karma. I guess that's because I've had it come back round to me. I've made some stupid decisions in my life - decisions that have had big ramifications, decisions that I wish I could change. But, as we all know, there's no rewind button.

But this guilt/shame has practically incapacitated me and left me standing there being stoned over and over by certain people in my life. And I've stood there and taken it in an attempt to make up for my mistakes, as penance. But at some point you have to forgive yourself and stop punishing yourself. You're the one that has to live with it, after all, and sometimes all that's left is to accept it, learn from it and move on. Right? I'm so sick of standing there taking shit just because I think I deserve it. At some point, you've been punished enough, right? All penance has an end, right? I hope so. I think so. I think I finally made it there. I've served my time. I can't take back the mistakes I've made, but I can't pay for them any longer either. It's time to let go. We're even, and I'm not the bad guy anymore.

Why is it so hard to believe that? 

Not to promote sloth or anything, but...

You should be watching Leverage on TNT. If you start next week, you'll have missed only 2 episodes. Do it! Take a night off. Watch some TV.

Overheard

I walked past a girl at work right as she vehemently said, "that's crap, you are how you act." It's a pretty simple concept, but I must have been out sick the day that lesson was taught. I guess learning it now is a case of better late than never. I think keeping this in mind will make it a lot easier to know who gets to be in my life and who is just a waste of space in it.  

Single Ladies (Put a Ring on It)

This video may be the (unintentionally) funniest thing I have ever seen. The song falls in that category too actually. It's brilliantly ridiculous. I love it!

Sick

So I'm sick. I've been sick for like a month now, and I finally broke down and went to the doctor this morning. Turns out I really was sick - fever and all. I've been pretty delirious all day and have entertained myself by napping through Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, watching infomercials and The Real Housewives of Orange County and feeding my dog apple slices (which does count as entertainment because it's funny to watch). My brain is fuzzy and tired.

Pockets

I know the girls at GFY would disagree, but I have to say that a fancy dress with pockets is kind of awesome.  

I'm encountering a harmonic convergence of suck right now. I've felt kind of emotionally ick the last few days - a combination of the suck and holiday induced blueness. But last night I got a treat that made all the suck and blueness recede for a little while. When I took Elsa out for her last sniff and pee, it was so cold and still and quiet outside - very peaceful, especially when you always have little voices yelling in your head (but not in the crazy way...come on, you know what I mean). But the best, most beautiful thing, the thing that kind of calmed the storm and allowed me to take a deep breath was the ground. It was late and already freezing and there was frost on the ground, and it sparkled like someone had shaken glitter all over the yard. Everywhere the moonlight or streetlights hit were sparkles that crunched pleasantly where you stepped. It was so unexpected and so pretty that I didn't mind Elsa wanting to sniff everything in the back yard; I just wanted to keep smelling the cold air and watching the grass twinkle.   

Gaah!

Gaah! Both the bulbs in my overhead light in my bedroom have blown out. How am I supposed to see to change them? Gaah!

I hate busy weeks when I have something to do every night. It makes me grumpy. And tired. But, tonight is a pizza night so I can make an exception.

Wow. Such a good book. Of course if I remembered more of Hamlet from high school, I might have thought twice about reading this. I'm a little (okay a lot) traumatized by the story, but the book was pretty flawless. I got to a point in the book where I couldn't read it fast enough. I say read it!

Train of Thought

Here's my thought - even though you can cook salmon in your dishwasher, it's probably one of those things you shouldn't do.

So here's how I got there. I was thinking that I needed to clean out my freezer because there's some stuff that I should really get rid of, like some tilapia fillets that I've had for a long time. Then I remembered how I read that Dr. Weil said you really shouldn't eat tilapia because there are a lot better fish than tilapia - for instance, salmon. Then I thought that I should have bought some salmon while I was at the grocery store. Then I wondered what kind of salmon Publix had - Asian glazed or hickory smoked or whatever. Which led me to - even though you can cook salmon in your dishwasher, it's probably one of those things you shouldn't do.  

Bath Time

Elsa Wet and Dirty (and from the look of it, trying to escape)

Elsa Clean and Dry

Man, I'm glad this football season is 13 minutes from being over (for us at least).

Yay Me!

Everyone that I've introduced to the Lenka CD LOVES it.  Yay me!  It's very gratifying.

Interesting Fact of the Day

Susan Tedeschi and Derek Trucks live in Jacksonville, FL.  Pretty cool, I think.  

Grey Matter

Ok, so I've pretty much stopped watching Grey's Anatomy for anything except the music, which tends to be the only redeeming thing about the show these days.  Which is sad considering how perfect it was when it first began, but I guess as they say (Frost, right?) "nothing gold can stay."

So back to the music.  A couple of weeks ago there was a song in the background called "Trouble Is a Friend."  It sounded very promising so I went to iTunes to check it out.  The girl's name is Lenka and she's from Australia and her album is great.  I pretty much haven't stopped listening to it since I bought it.  It's just fun, catchy, light-hearted pop that sounds like a grown-up wrote it, which is sometimes hard to find these days.  Here she is:

 Buy her CD.  You won't be sorry.  

A little of this, a little of that

Blech...I'm really sick to my stomach.  My lunch is not agreeing with me.

The trees in my neighborhood are some of the most beautiful things I've seen. Although I've never realized it, apparently leaves fall off trees from the top down - at least they do in my neighborhood. I'd never thought about it before, but I guess it makes sense, science-wise. Interesting, huh? I thought so.    

Finally, it's raining which means I don't have to take Dog out for a walk, which is good because I've got lots of dust bunnies to track down before they pull the carpet up, etc...on Friday.  

"Storm Chasers" on Discovery is my newest TV obsession.

It's an Animal Planet Sort of Afternoon

I just found out that you are more likely to be killed by a falling coconut than by a shark attack. What I hate about statistics like that is this - they just give me something new to worry about. I never knew death by coconut was even on the list of possible deaths and now I have to put it even higher on the list than shark attack.  

I just watched the craziest thing; there was chemical warfare, hostile takeovers, impersonation of royalty and slavery. And it was all about ants. Slavemaker Ants to be exact. I suggest you look them up and be amazed, like me.

Scariest Thing I've Heard All Year

As director of strategic initiatives at AmeriCares, Ella Gudwin grapples first-hand with the adaptability of germs and the tenacity of infectious diseases..."The whole world is covered in a small film of fecal matter, " she adds. "Just get used to it."

I'll pause while everyone goes and washes their hands. Anywho, I'm out for an adventure in the 'Boro (pronounced burro for non-Tennesseans - don't ask me why.) The things dog owners do...

This is getting ridiculous.

I fell. Again.

Found Wisdom

Life is between the trapeze bars. 

(from a card at Davis Kidd)

Fritos specifically.

My dog smells like corn chips. 

Poor Elsa

Elsa's sick. She had to go to the vet and get a shot. Poor baby.

On the upside, she did very well with a stranger who was poking her and prodding her and ultimately sticking her with a needle. 

On the downside, she threw up on the examination table. 

On the upside of that, at least it was at the vet's and not another pile of sick that I had to clean up; I've done enough of that to last me for a while. I'm afraid the smell of Resolve carpet cleaner will never leave my nose.  

YAY!

I found some money in my back pocket at obedience class tonight; also some hotdog, but Elsa was really more interested in that.

Confession

I'm watching Sex and the City (the movie), and I have to admit, I have a gigantic fear of being left at the altar. I think that's what they call "borrowing trouble."

I made the mistake of reading the news today, and none of it was good. In fact, it ranged from terrible to truly atrocious. This was about the only thing that made me smile today.

Legends of the Fall

Ow. Falling hurts. 

I've ignored the klutz part of these chronicles for a while, but I now have some major klutziness to report on. The other night my friend and I were walking our dogs. No, my dog didn't trip me or pull me down or anything. The truth is I have no idea what happened. One moment we were jogging down the sidewalk, the next I had gone flying. My palms were scraped up and my legs and knees were one big bruise. It was actually pretty spectacular - the first total wipeout I've had in a while. It's beginning to look like owning a dog is hazardous to my health!

Again, falling hurts. I don't recommend it. That's my PSA for the day. 

I have been uber productive today, and now I am totally running out of steam. Must...get...up...must...get...dressed.  

Might I add that it's so freaking cold in my house? If anything, I should be glad to be getting out just so I can get warm.   

Have I mentioned that Honey Crisp apples are back? Bliss!

OK, I know who I'm voting for.

I think. 

I have a tiny bruise on my right forearm, and every time I saw it out of the corner of my eye today I was like, "hey, what's that on my arm?"  

I'm such a dingbat sometimes.

I am emotionally ick today.  

I think I have a British sense of humor

Headline in a London newspaper:  We're all socialists now, comrades.

Funniest thing I heard all day.  

Curious, very curious

My power went out the other night. Before it did, something in my house (I don't know what) let out 3 ear piercing beeps. It must have lasted 2 or 3 seconds. Here's my question...how did it know the power was about to go out in enough time to beep? I mean, I know - power surge, blah, blah, blah.  But still...it's like magic.  

Even

So, Sunday something (a bug, bee, ant, sharp stick) got Elsa. I was worried she was hurt, but I have to admit that it was funny watching her spin around trying to figure out what happened. Elsa, who was fine by the way, got her revenge on Monday morning when we were walking right before I went to work. I was mostly dressed - make-up and hair done, top on - but just threw on a pair of stretchy pants and flip flops. She walked down this little rise so I followed her to the edge. I should have been more aware of the slippery, freshly mown grass. My feet went out from under me, and I landed my right on my butt. The scene was similar to the vacuum commercial where a big fluffy cat was sitting on the stairs and suddenly there was a huge POOF and a scrawny cat sat there with hair floating everywhere. It was that, except with confetti-size pieces of grass. Everywhere. 

You might think there was enough padding there to keep me safe, but not so much. My neck and shoulders have been killing me since then, and it hurts to sit on the floor (just one reason I'm glad for furniture). I want to hang upside down. I always hypothesize that hanging upside down will help when I have back and neck problems. Anyone I know have one of those upside down tables?

I'm a secret fan of death metal (even though I don't own any albums, although some would argue that Trans-Siberian Orchestra is pretty close), but I admit to being a bit disappointed when the Avett's went all electric and death metal-y for the finale tonight.  

Sigh

I need a change. It's sad when "Ugly Betty" makes you realize it's time for something new. I'm just not sure how to make the new happen at the moment. But total cool points for Tom Petty's "American Girl."

Today's Walk Is Brought to You by the Letter P

Pee, poop, pear and pinecone

My "friend" was back this morning. I think, but I'm not sure. I thought the van was brown with brown stripes but the van that drove past me (3 times!) this morning was blue with blue stripes. Other than that, it was the same shape, style, etc...So the behavior's the same, but I really thought it was a brown van. And I didn't get a good look at the man the times I've seen him before, but I had the feeling the guy was more middle age. This guy was younger. 

So are there two weirdos driving around my neighborhood in the same type, but different color, van or is my memory just that unreliable? This time I got the license plate, but now I don't know what to do with it. What if this guy was just lost in the neighborhood or something?  

Life is good.

I was in Target and this DVD stopped me in my tracks. I don't remember much about this movie except that when I first saw it, I thought it was the saddest thing I'd ever seen. Does the unicorn run into the ocean and drown or was that my imagination? If I've forgotten, do I even want to know?

I'll drink to that!

Are fanny packs ever acceptable?

Normally, I'd say no, but after this morning's unsettling events, I think a fanny pack might be the only thing big enough to carry all the things I now realize I have to carry when I walk the dog.   Keys, cell phone, pepper spray, doggie sacks - there are just not enough hands.