tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-86831862024-03-07T05:58:31.131-08:00Gray Goose WatchWorrying About Mother Since 1958Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger145125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8683186.post-89906503544532578372008-09-14T10:27:00.001-07:002008-09-14T10:33:18.832-07:00Two Reasons I Haven't Been Posting<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2JXSyjK2e02y-2smhFNu4Ewq_wGzWvV_WCYKChFf88vpntJQq2jCiywctABxrGo9gr9gtjiXzFEB0s_vdNWM4hmp_tVidcjhadsX2V_luLrj8SHv1gfj4tuaZAxhCVLC5yYoWZg/s1600-h/IMG_0384.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5245930482346954850" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2JXSyjK2e02y-2smhFNu4Ewq_wGzWvV_WCYKChFf88vpntJQq2jCiywctABxrGo9gr9gtjiXzFEB0s_vdNWM4hmp_tVidcjhadsX2V_luLrj8SHv1gfj4tuaZAxhCVLC5yYoWZg/s200/IMG_0384.jpg" border="0" /></a> </div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiThD-VXCOA90sbX9vgnnDt30CHADglFroJIaYPinod875rxqIVDx7ZS3u7kLrniYBATCscaEeoHS6yutI9TiioXg2emREbgVNpIH2gRL64ikBdDtY2jXL9ySp4ogUknDoRa7kOIA/s1600-h/IMG_0388.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5245930284612316658" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiThD-VXCOA90sbX9vgnnDt30CHADglFroJIaYPinod875rxqIVDx7ZS3u7kLrniYBATCscaEeoHS6yutI9TiioXg2emREbgVNpIH2gRL64ikBdDtY2jXL9ySp4ogUknDoRa7kOIA/s200/IMG_0388.jpg" border="0" /></a> It's amazing just how much time and energy small animals consume. And sooooo worth every bit.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div align="center">They seem to be getting along fairly well.</div><br /><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5245931119973827586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF1eP_bVlx1_8qaK4hKAHTEz-uRwEEu7qICNyTUNSU-vNFixyNeSr5v46isFgNfCngy_d8dckJpn77hLJ7leDcg3ilvk9lpNR24b58WmQedU-0FDTEJpazEV-m6AWGeoyryk0siA/s200/IMG_0381.jpg" border="0" /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8683186.post-37859389357461835642007-12-28T19:26:00.000-08:002007-12-28T19:28:09.080-08:00Blue ChristmasMy friend Marge died during the night of December 23. I found out on December 24, as we were driving to my inlaws' house for dinner. Gotta say, Marge's timing sucked. Sure do miss her, though.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8683186.post-76217489984009108992007-12-20T08:39:00.001-08:002007-12-20T08:40:14.419-08:00UpdateHe's not going over the mountains to visit family after all. Yay! One less thing to be cranky about. Ho ho ho.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8683186.post-30495681042443639792007-12-19T19:31:00.000-08:002007-12-20T08:39:28.300-08:00Bah. And Furthermore, HumbugI just want the season to be over and done with. I know, it's not what I'm supposed to say this time of year, but there you go.<br /><br />I found out last weekend that my friend of over 20 years has lung cancer and is preparing to die. She's 93 and says she's not going to pursue treatment, has had enough and is "ready to go." Whatever that means. She might be ready, but I am not. I'm intrigued by people's reactions when I tell them this news. Once they hear she's 93, it's no longer sad news. More along the lines of, "Oh well, long life, she's old, whatever." What people don't know is that her sister (the nun) lived to be 101. Many people in her family passed the 100 mark. When I moved back here, spending time with her was one of the big, big perks motivating me. Now I'm thinking about which black thing I'll wear to the funeral. Which isn't far in the future. <br /><br />My spouse is about to leave for a trip across The Mountains to visit relatives. The weather reports call for one to two FEET of snow on the pass. I'm really, really not happy about this. I worry. It's my hobby.<br /><br />While I have for the past nine years gotten the week between Christmas and New Years Day off free and clear, no vacation time eaten up, THIS year I get how much time off? Oh yes, the 25th. AND, we're closing the office at 3PM on the 24th. I'm a little underwhelmed and damn, these crankypants are pinching me.<br /><br />Because of family obligations, I might not get to spend any part of Christmas with my best friends in the whole world, the people who sent me telepathic messages to Come Home for the past nine years. This makes me incredibly sad.<br /><br />So there you have it. I'd love to make some stuff up about the beauty of the season and the glow of the lights, but honestly I'll just be glad when it's all over and I'm back at my desk on the 26th. Nevertheless, I wish YOU a happy holiday, whatever form that might take, and offer <a href="http://www.stinalisa.com/NutsAtChristmas.html">this annual ritual offering</a> as my gift to you. The music of my people! Enjoy!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8683186.post-72959430925476124812007-12-07T20:05:00.001-08:002007-12-07T20:07:33.884-08:00'Tis the Season...to share this fabulous photo given to me by a dear friend last year. <br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS8REKthwE9xCAYGcpYRxlRZ4LzThKOse0FognPsZf2wX7cycdb0fxhUIJhNr0IqI-WWdSz8F-z11uw_iYyUH7dE3UK4AV9VkuCj22c4cU1bRuLT22F4-NsaH6dZXYVKkv682HEg/s1600-h/Santa+Buda.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS8REKthwE9xCAYGcpYRxlRZ4LzThKOse0FognPsZf2wX7cycdb0fxhUIJhNr0IqI-WWdSz8F-z11uw_iYyUH7dE3UK4AV9VkuCj22c4cU1bRuLT22F4-NsaH6dZXYVKkv682HEg/s200/Santa+Buda.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5141448684903272162" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8683186.post-44183056477873571702007-12-02T10:32:00.000-08:002007-12-02T10:42:19.936-08:00Why I didn't get those reports done yesterday<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinw1JbDfWuHPmM23FyEIZLP-u4RyfCDDsPZEfrPoK8BrffpGVTwwV9zmHswKG_UcHSVyT1WIRFIqryFhwPTwEte_LIYI0e6IAbaBUwshWGENrG2HDo93_oRbcZPFERoS4MPwQDvg/s1600-r/First+snow+2007.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrTdmDvkbDhHpWTvAqyB0jG_Bd8BpWva1FjC89dhUxXt5gxlbl2s6ok1DkBPF6a6XfvJNz1efI0CuZBu_ijKAneU_eB58W-Rd2MGK5rkHcsepONVVil0tUULKzRyQgYOy_no4Esg/s200/First+snow+2007.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5139445847163866834" /></a><br />I intended to work for as many hours as I could yesterday afternoon. After I'd been in the office about an hour, the snow started falling -- blowing, really -- HARD. I got home as fast as I could and it's a good thing I did. The hill up to our place was too slippery to drive a couple of hours later. When I got home the wonderful spouse had a fire going. We found a sappy John Travolta movie on TV and watched it and the snow falling from the comfy, comfy couch. Mmm. So much better than overtime.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8683186.post-25619747057289109512007-11-25T10:41:00.000-08:002007-11-25T10:53:26.087-08:00GratefulLike <a href="http://www.betweenthelakes.blogspot.com/">frog</a>, I managed to get sick over the holiday, my only four-day period off work since I can't remember when. It's just a cold, but it's preventing me from having the hours and hours of fun I fantasized about for many weeks before the holiday. The real thing: never as good as the fantasy. <br /><br />Before I took to the couch, however, there was a fabulous dinner at the niece-in-law's amazing house. I did a good share of the cooking, which I liked because it kept me from having to make any more small talk than I already had, and because niece's kitchen has the most ass-kicking view I've ever seen while slaving over a hot stove. Like this, only with a lot more water:<br /><a href="http://www.whiterabbits.com/2004photos/March/OlympicsMar8.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px;" src="http://www.whiterabbits.com/2004photos/March/OlympicsMar8.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />Friday morning, I got up early to go to the holiday parade downtown with my best friend and her partner. It was incredibly fun. Marching bands! Floats made entirely of balloons! It was a gorgeous day, sunny and cold. While I was waiting in line for a chai tea at the Big Corporate Coffee Cafe (the original!), my best friend sneaked up behind me, threw her arms around me and squeezed hard. She said, "I'm so glad you came home!" and gave me a big, sloppy kiss on the cheek.<br /><br />Me, too. So incredibly glad I came home.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8683186.post-46169934692257609372007-10-11T19:37:00.000-07:002007-10-11T19:57:35.474-07:00Two Months? Surely You JestYes I know it's been a really really long time since I logged on. I apologize if you've been checking here and finding nothing new. I've just been so incredibly busy I can't even describe it without having a little panic mixed with Sudden Onset Sleepiness Syndrome. So here it is by the numbers.<br /><br />Days here: 75<br />Workdays shorter than 10 hours: 0 (exclusive of weekends)<br />Saturdays worked: 4-5<br />Dinners with friends: 3, maybe 4<br />Beers with best colleague/friend: 6 (3 different occasions!)<br />Dinners at the best veg restaurant ever: 2<br />Hours with inlaws: More than 20 (not consecutive)<br />Weeks of unpacking it took to unpack it all: Unknown (Check back in a month.)<br />Spats: 2, both minor and short<br />Rainy days: Fewer than we expected -- possibly 8-10<br />Hours spent consulting manual for fancy-schmancy heating system: At least 1<br />Days in new house before bedroom curtains installed: 78 (I hope)<br />Weeks with functioning cable hook-up: 0<br />Calls to cable company: Lost count weeks ago<br />New interns trained so far: 2<br />Interns yet to train: 1<br />Threats to quit by woman who applied for my job: At least 10<br />Times I missed the old place/old job: 0Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8683186.post-40461901292509933522007-08-02T08:43:00.000-07:002007-08-02T08:46:44.948-07:00Ch-ch-ch-changesWe've arrived and I've started my new job. Over half our stuff is still in boxes. We won't have internet (or! cable! or! phone!) until sometime next week. We saw a bunny in our front yard yesterday morning. We have no curtains for the bedroom yet so for now I'm waking up with the sun. <br /><br />It's good to be home.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8683186.post-41803539365685077712007-07-22T18:24:00.001-07:002007-07-22T18:29:36.133-07:00Age: The (Bigot's) Final FrontierSo I'm over at <a href="http://www.buggydoo.blogspot.com/">one of my favorite blogs</a> today when I read this quote from the blogger's husband: <br /><blockquote>"I cannot wait, I cannot wait," says my husband, "until the last Baby Boomer is dead."</blockquote><br />Somebody commented: <br /><blockquote>Wow. Steve sounds like a real asshole. As a boomer at the tail end of the demographic, I vow to live to 110 just to annoy him.</blockquote><br />To which the blogger replied: <blockquote>Oh, go take a Geritol...</blockquote><br />So let me see if I've got this right. Substitute "Boomer" with "African American" or "woman" or "lesbian" or "person under 20" and it's all effed up. But people of my age cohort are cool to wish dead? Okay. Got it. <br /><br />Good thing the younger generation will never be of this age so they'll be free from experiencing this kind of bigotry. Oh, wait...Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8683186.post-15964599284737010932007-07-21T08:03:00.000-07:002007-07-21T08:37:34.231-07:00TransitioningYesterday I went to my two grocery stores for (probably) the last time. I've been doing my Friday afternoon grocery shopping at these two stores since I moved here almost nine years ago. I was nostalgic as I walked the aisles of my co-op. I'm going to miss it. I didn't know it was possible to be so attached to a market. This one's special, though. Worker-owned, wholly meat-free, prone to radical political acts I usually support. They close for Pride every year. The workers recently voted to close for Caesar Chavez's birtday in exchange for staying open on Thanksgiving. I think workers are required to have at least three tattoos. I love that place.<br /><br />My friend and favorite checker was there -- hooray! We had a nice talk and said our good-byes, promising to stay in touch. Then a friend I haven't seen in ages showed up and we had a chance to talk and say good-bye, too. It was all very sweet.<br /><br />My second stop on Fridays has always been the Safeway store near my house. It's in a complex with a post office, my bank and the drycleaner I've been going to nearly all these years. I stopped by the drycleaner to say good-bye and thanks to the woman who owns the shop. She's sweet. She has two adorable kids I've watched grow up as they spend afternoons and summer vacations in the shop. They have a new puppy. I saw pictures of the puppy months before it came to live with their family and I know all about its obedience training and temperament. And its "very sharp teeth."<br /><br />I've worked in service and retail jobs in the past and I never liked it when regular customers with whom I'd developed relationships would just disappear. It tended to make me worry. I think that's why I wanted to say good-bye to people I've been doing business with for all these years. I also wanted to thank them. <br /><br />Next stop, Safeway. I wanted to say good-bye to Sue, who used to be in charge of the flower department at the front of the store, but who is now an assistant manager. I'd never been in the store's office before, so I had to do some searching. In the process, I saw the employees' break room (bleak!) and the back of the dairy section (clean!). Finally I found the office and Sue was there. I said, "Clean up in the women's restroom!" I couldn't help myself. We laughed. I told her I'm moving away, she said the news made her very sad. She asked for details, like what work I'd be doing, how my husband feels about the move, when we're leaving. She said she'll miss me. I told her I'll miss her, too, and told her I always liked coming into her store, because of her. She said she was going to start crying, and then she did. And then I did. Just a little. We hugged and I got out of there fast, because if I didn't I knew I'd be blubbering all over her office.<br /><br />Then I stopped at the fish counter and bought supper. The fish guy wished me good luck and told me he'd miss me. "You've been such an excellent customer."<br /><br />The afternoon sent me back in time to that period in my relationship with this town when I was so often lonely and alienated. I wasn't making friends and in fact my usual ways of making friends were proving completely ineffective. To make matters worse, I worked alone practically all of the time. I remember crying while I said to my husband, "I just want somebody to go to lunch with once in a while. Is that really too much to ask??" There was something about this city -- so big, so hostile -- that hurt my feelings in a deep way. I was often deeply homesick. <br /><br />Having people like Sue be friendly to me and talk to me about themselves, ask me some questions about myself -- it mattered a lot. It kept me from complete desolation more than once. I can never tell them what it meant to me and what it still means that they broke the social rule of this place to reach out to me. But I appreciate it and never will I take such kindness for granted again.<br /><br />I'm also taking away an important reminder about the seeds of kindness. We really can never, ever know the effect of our actions. We might think speaking kindly to a stranger is a small thing and we might forget about it moments after it happens. But to that person? It might be the one bright spot in an otherwise miserable week. It really could, in a city like this one, be the only kindness that person experiences that day. Or week. <br /><br />As I was picking out my corn for supper, a woman came by to sweep up. As she swept, I said, "This corn sure makes a mess, doesn't it?" She looked me right in the eye and said nothing. Earlier that day at the co-op, I had a similar experience. A brief comment meant to connect, to bring a smile, was met with a cold stare and a slight step away. Yesterday, those interactions made me chuckle. Earlier, they could bring me to tears. <a href="http://editbarn.blogspot.com/">Krupskaya</a> talks about <a href="http://editbarn.blogspot.com/2006/12/its-my-kind-of-town.html">city manners</a>. I wish someone had given me a course in city manners about nine years ago. <br /><br />I'm just not going to miss this place.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8683186.post-34007534702761188262007-07-20T16:42:00.000-07:002007-07-21T09:24:07.504-07:00I'm It!I've been tagged by <a href="http://life-suitcase.blogspot.com/2007/07/8-random-things-meme.html">Amanda</a> AND <a href="http://www.betweenthelakes.blogspot.com/">frog</a>. And I'm supposed to tag eight other people, only like <a href="http://bomboniera.wordpress.com/">bomb</a>, pretty much every blogger I know has already been tagged. So screw that part. Heh.<br /><br />The rules:<br /><br />1. Let others know who tagged you.<br />2. Players start with 8 random facts about themselves.<br />3. Those who are tagged should post these rules and their 8 random facts.<br />4. Players should tag 8 other people and notify them they have been tagged.<br /><br />My eight random facts:<br />1. I played clarinet from 4th grade through high school. I was in the concert band and marching band and in the latter wore a ridiculously tall fuzzy hat with a chin strap.<br />2. I've been to Dillingham, AK but I never worked in the fishing industry.<br />3. Falafel gives me heartburn every time I eat it but I will never stop eating it.<br />4. I was taller than my mother by the time I was in 5th grade.<br />5. I took seven years to complete my BA.<br />6. I have a water garden, which is like a pond in a container.<br />7. I've met Sean Penn, Phil Donohue and Bill Harris (of <a href="http://www.super70s.com/super70s/News/Special-Reports/Terrorism/SLA/Emily_and_William_Harris.asp">Bill and Emily Harris</a>).<br />8. I attempted to sneak out my bedroom window once to protest Nixon's arrival at the airport in my town. It was in the '70s and I was probably 13 or 14. My dad busted me before I got halfway out.<br /><br />There you go. More than you wanted or needed to know!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8683186.post-87632459377432068442007-07-01T07:57:00.000-07:002007-07-01T15:32:20.342-07:00Moving at the Speed of MolassesI'd really love to be one of those people whose reaction to stress is a burst a manic energy -- the ones who immediately buckle down and clean (and possibly paint!) the entire house when the stress hits. I'm the other kind. I respond to intense stress by turning into a deer in the headlights. My coping style is neither fight nor flight. It's more like sit here motionless, pretending to be invisible, and hope the threat leaves on its own. I've spent more than a few hours immobilized by anxiety lately. This, it turns out, does not get the packing done. Nor the sorting of belongings headed for the thrift store. Nor the other 10,000 things that have to be completed before we move at the end of the month.<br /><br />I'm trying to remember to take action. Even if the action's small. Maybe I could build momentum. You never know.<br /><br />Yesterday I scored big-time. A couple about 10 minutes away advertised their barely-used moving boxes on Craigslist. I was the first to arrive and drove away with the car full of boxes. Yay!<br /><br />I'm so distracted it's getting ridiculous. I'm forgetting things. Simple things. Things I can't believe I'm forgetting. I forgot my clothes in the laundry room, twice. Then later in the bathroom, I'm ready to change tampons, I pull out the first one and looky there! Another string! Evidently I'd forgotten to take one out before putting another one in. I guess I should be glad there were only two. <br /><br />I would say "Maybe you need to slow down," only I'm barely moving as it is. Maybe I should pay closer attention? You think?Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8683186.post-42660350412330299292007-06-22T19:45:00.000-07:002007-06-22T19:48:38.230-07:00Next ChapterGot the job. Moving up yonder. Stressed, not sleeping through the night. Excited, breathless, filled with dread and apprehension. Imagining the best, imagining the worst. Planning. It's what I do.<br /><br />I've started breaking the news to people. Some are sad, some are handling it "better" than others, but really, for those who are sad, there's little I can do. <br /><br />Should I apologize to them for following my heart?Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8683186.post-40065452313312132232007-06-17T18:58:00.000-07:002007-06-17T19:01:26.699-07:00Adrenaline WithdrawalBack from up yonder. The interview went well, I think. I was interviewed by four incredibly strong women and managed to give good answers (I think!), on about five hours of sleep. I visited many friends and hardly remembered to breathe. I'm exhausted. <br /><br />They asked me about my availability for training. <br /><br />They're hoping to make a hiring decision by Wednesday.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8683186.post-67129223068123178742007-06-12T19:03:00.000-07:002007-06-12T19:09:03.299-07:00Breaking Up: Hard to DoI'm not telling my current employer about the job interview or even that I'm thinking of leaving town. I feel that's the best policy, in general. Suppose I end up not getting a job up yonder for a few months? And it drags on. And on... It wouldn't leave me in a particularly good position to negotiate whatever I might want to negotiate. When I tell them I'm leaving them for a better job. When they break down and cry and beg me to stay.<br /><br />Unfortunately, I'm terrible at keeping secrets. It's possible I'll break down and tell somebody or let something slip at any moment. Stay tuned!<br /><br />I've calmed down considerably tonight. I'm not exactly sure why. Could be the nice calming herbal tea, the foot rub, yoga class, or maybe I've just worn my brain out. It's exhausting, all the planning and worrying. Exhausting! <br /><br />I feel I should be studying up on the particulars of this job but doing that makes me anxious. So either I'll suck it up and study, or wing it and hope for the best. <br /><br />This is so exciting.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8683186.post-37303044867660836162007-06-09T07:45:00.000-07:002007-06-09T07:51:50.635-07:00JittersIt turns out the job up yonder wasn't filled -- they had another position and it was that one they were holding interviews for. I know this because they called me on Thursday <em>to set up an interview</em>. I'm flying up there Thursday for a Friday interview. I'm working at keeping my anxiety under control and not always succeeding. It's a big deal, especially since getting the job would mean a major move. Also, this job is definitely more career-path than my present job, which means I'd have to care about it a lot more. It will require a great deal more of me. Not just in terms of time and focus, but also commitment and energy. I don't have the same energy I did when I worked there in the last century. I was a lot younger then.<br /><br />This weekend I need to shop for an interview suit. Last time I did that was... Let's see... 1995. What is it the young people are wearing to job interviews nowadays?Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8683186.post-43722816309153745202007-06-02T08:53:00.000-07:002007-06-02T08:56:21.816-07:00Or, NotDriving home yesterday on one of our famous narrow, steep and winding streets, I pull over to let a car coming from the opposite direction through. As soon as I do so, guy behind me tries to pass me, thus blocking the other person entirely. A stand-off ensues. I look around to give the guy the stinkeye, he gives me the finger.<br /><br />This, I will not miss.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8683186.post-20664811651138674022007-06-01T13:00:00.001-07:002007-06-01T13:03:22.165-07:00Slow to AdaptNow that we're seriously talking about leaving this place, I realize there are some things I never adjusted to. And now it looks like I might not, ever. Getting really good corn, canteloupe and strawberries in May, for example. A little bit wrong. Too early. But oh, so good. Maybe it's one thing I'll miss about this place. If we ever leave. Which, who knows, maybe we will. Or maybe we won't.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8683186.post-54762019357820739602007-05-30T19:01:00.000-07:002007-05-30T19:06:18.404-07:00Nothing to See HereI'm in limbo. I can't make a frickin' decision about anything: Where to live, what job I want, when to make a hair appointment -- none of the important life issues! The "pro/con" exercise doesn't work about where to live, because how can I balance "Be near my best friend" against "Possibly keep earning a living wage"? "Having health insurance" against "Those big-assed evergreens lining the freeway"? See? It just doesn't work. <br /><br />I was asked to take on a new responsibility at my meditation center. I tried to beg off, saying I'm not sure how much longer I'll even live here. The asker gave me a month to let him know. Not helpful! It's something I think I'd enjoy doing, and it needs doing, but sheesh. Already so many things to consider in making this decision.<br /><br />I'm just not a very good decider. It's a family trait. I once knew my family to take over two hours to decide where to eat dinner and then they still didn't pick a restaurant -- more like a part of town and "we'll decide once we get there." How did we not starve to death?<br /><br />I'm thinking of setting up a few sessions with a career counselor. I'm just that stumped. Now how do I decide which one to see??Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8683186.post-89815324395270509892007-05-23T18:57:00.000-07:002007-05-23T19:06:59.520-07:00BummerSo that <a href="http://graygoose.blogspot.com/2007/04/synchronicity-man.html">job up yonder</a>? Didn't get it. I heard from a friend that "they've already had one round of interviews" and I think that since I didn't get a call or anything, I didn't get in. Which bruised my ego terribly. I used to be pretty hot stuff in that work culture. Now? Stale as last week's bread. <br /><br />Now that this job isn't hanging out there, I need to strategize and come up with The Plan. I want so much in my midlife career, and yet I'm not sure what I want. I've actually never been this ambivalent about my job future. Rudderlessness does not suit me. No sir, not one bit.<br /><br />Helpful hint: Warm Kettle Korn appears to be a curative. Might want to stock up if you're job-hunting. Or enjoying midlife. Get the big bag if you're doing both.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8683186.post-85061690262511228982007-05-17T09:49:00.000-07:002007-05-17T09:59:09.592-07:00Know ThyselfThanks to <a href="http://www.betweenthelakes.blogspot.com/">frog</a>, I have some new information about myself. The test is <a href="http://www.mindmedia.com/brainworks/index.html">here</a>; here are my results:<br /><br />Your Brain Usage Profile:<br />Auditory : 40%<br />Visual : 60%<br />Left : 64%<br />Right : 35%<br /><br />gosling, you are somewhat left-hemisphere dominant and show a preference for visual learning, although not extreme in either characteristic. You probably tend to do most things in moderation, but not always.<br /><br />Your left-hemisphere dominance implies that your learning style is organized and structured, detail oriented and logical. Your visual preference, though, has you seeking stimulation and multiple data. Such an outlook can overwhelm structure and logic and <strong>create an almost continuous state of uncertainty and agitation</strong> [<em>What have I been trying to tell you?!</em>]. You may well suffer a feeling of <strong>continually trying to "catch up" with yourself</strong> [<em>and thus be exhausted all the damned time -- too exhausted to blog, really</em>].<br /><br />Your tendency to be organized and logical and attend to details is reasonably well-established which should afford you success regardless of your chosen field of endeavor. You can "size up" situations and take in information rapidly. However, you must then subject that data to being classified and organized which causes you to "lose touch" with the immediacy of the problem.<br /><br />Your logical and methodical nature hamper you in this regard though in the long run it may work to your advantage since <strong>you "learn from experience"</strong> [<em>absolute proof this test is bogus</em>] and can go through the process more rapidly on subsequent occasions.<br /><br />You remain predominantly functional in your orientation and practical. Abstraction and theory are secondary to application. In keeping with this, <strong>you focus on details until they manifest themselves in a unique pattern and only then work with the "larger whole."</strong> [<em>In other words, you are the world's biggest nitpicker and blind to the "big picture" -- surprise!</em>]<br /><br />With regards to your career choices, you have a mentality that would be good as a <strong>scientist, coach, athlete, design consultant, or an engineering technician</strong> [<em>none of which you are trained for and let's face it, you're not getting any younger, Coach</em>]. You can "see where you want to go" and even be able to "tell yourself," but find that you are "fighting yourself" at the darndest times [<em>like, most of the darned time</em>].Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8683186.post-5067915476330513062007-05-15T19:01:00.000-07:002007-05-15T19:03:16.449-07:00I Know You Miss MeYeah, yeah, I know. It's been ages. Maybe this will entertain you while you continue to wait. Or, not.<br /><object width="425" height="350"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/4yYqCuz-Go4"></param><param name="wmode" value="transparent"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/4yYqCuz-Go4" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"></embed></object>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8683186.post-15685385378649774332007-04-10T11:53:00.000-07:002007-04-10T11:58:08.330-07:00Synchronicity, ManI found out about a job opening in our hometown, the city we'd love more than anything to return to. It's a management job at the place where I used to work. The money's not bad and I'm certainly qualified to do the work. Knowing this brings up about 10,000 issues, all having to do with the unpredictability of the future. I lost considerable sleep last night ruminating and panicking about the possibility of returning "home."<br /><br />When I'm faced with big life decisions like this, I like to gather as much data as possible before taking any action. So I called an old friend of mine up yonder. She and I used to work together in the place that has the job opening. We haven't spoken in a long, long time. Definitely over two years. As soon as she heard my voice on the phone she said, "Oh! I just had a dream about you last night!"<br /><br />These little clues from the universe? A little spooky. Also a little annoying, though I can't say exactly why.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8683186.post-14915884354604384482007-04-08T21:21:00.000-07:002007-04-08T21:39:36.159-07:00Vegan Sunday Dinner, Easter Edition<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP9XnXP7pMo5Ee4zub_UckM9z7AYbrJmLOs6D-t0xQo4E_8IOd2OWF1zUbgcW1Vr_qVnN_3l0B_Hhy-pZuUfTZIba_nCq4k6Pn0isexkmpCA8rcn7K1WP8_vn74Djhwqz9GNX6lw/s1600-h/Dinner040907.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP9XnXP7pMo5Ee4zub_UckM9z7AYbrJmLOs6D-t0xQo4E_8IOd2OWF1zUbgcW1Vr_qVnN_3l0B_Hhy-pZuUfTZIba_nCq4k6Pn0isexkmpCA8rcn7K1WP8_vn74Djhwqz9GNX6lw/s200/Dinner040907.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5051282855364629938" /></a><br />Sundays require comfort food. Simple as that. This week I tried the recipe for vegan "meatloaf" from the latest <a href="http://www.vegetariantimes.com/">Vegetarian Times</a>. I've been searching for the perfect loaf recipe for ages and this one comes pretty darned close to perfection. Other loaf recipes can be found at the <a href="http://www.veganlunchbox.com/loaf_studio.html">Magic Loaf Studio</a>, of course. Lots of delicious Sunday dinners have come from Jennifer's site. Tonight's was little salty, maybe. Possibly from the soy crumbles, which are pretty high in salt. But still very delicious. The leftovers will make great sandwiches. With the loaf we each had a generous serving of garlic mashed potatoes and <a href="http://www.cooks.com/rec/view/0,1725,158176-254196,00.html">Golden Gravy</a> (I always add some sliced mushrooms to the recipe), and steamed broccoli. For dessert there were vegan brownies, the recipe for which can be found <a href="http://www.recipezaar.com/19282">here</a>. They've become a big favorite around here. Unfortunately no picture, because those brownies had to be eaten while they were still warm and taking a picture? Would have delayed the eating.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0