Pride and Prejudice -- Gotta Love Jane

I finished reading my first ever Jane Austen book on Sunday. I had all sorts of wise thoughts after wading my way through all that lingo. So much thought was put into virtue and honor, and connections in society through family. Women had only their virtue since there was no place for them in the work force. Only men inherited property and sons were more highly valued.

Now where are we. Yeah, we are surely ensconced in the workforce now. Virtue is nearly gone, right? We have lost most connections, unless it is friends or very close family. And some people move far away from home and lose all connections.

I am going to think more about virtue and honor, and at least connecting to a few more outside my tiny, tiny circle in life. More importantly, I am going to think about Elizabeth and how she learned to relate to Mr. Darcy. At one point near the end, she didn't shoot her mouth off to tease him even though it would have been correct and true and possibly amusing.

Gosh, I value amusement above almost all else. Gotta work on that. Think before joking.

Our Fabulous Mini Staycation to Del Mar!

You can see the cloudy weather, but we sure enjoyed our first stay in this little coastal town. The population was a lot bigger with the County Fair running daily.

What a nice fair! We had David Cook sing to us, and we wandered through all the fried food and great displays. Our favorite was the minerals and rocks with the best part being the glow in the dark minerals shown under black lights. Wow. Who knew?

We had dinner with David Archuleta at the Hilton. Well, not exactly with him, but we were the only folks left in the dining room at the end of the evening.

I wish we had a week to stay, or that we had a nice little bungalow on the cliffs, but what a nice place. Everyone should visit.

"Before" at BizBash

These may not be the best "before" photos, but you can see the triple chin and the thick middle. I attended an event planning expo Downtown a couple weeks ago. Very fun. Now, one motto I heard a long time ago has always stayed with me . . . "Never trust a skinny meeting planner." It means they don't pick very good food for their events, or at least they don't eat it. Well, I am going to continue to pick good food for catering, but I am surely not going to be able to eat it all. Of course, I may not get skinny, but I surely have to drop some pounds to be healthy. I am hoping to report here that after six months (December 31?), I will be 6 sizes smaller and shopping with the normal ladies for a size 10. That would be dreamy. Haven't been THERE since 1994, I believe. Yes, I believe. Okay, I'll settle for size 12, but nothing less.

Alas, the Day Has Come

I feel like the Universe built a gym at the bottom of my hill just for me. Okay, it's been there for a year and a half, and I never set foot in there until this week. Last year, I planned to join in January . . . wait, February . . . March would be good . . . oops, it's 2009.

I turned 51 in May. Michael Jackson would have been 51 later this year, but somebody made a fatal dosage error. I feel blessed to have made it this far, but I have not been taking care of my "temple" much either.

So I asked my mum for a contribution to a fabulous gym membership for my birthday and she contributed 1/3. I managed to get that in the bank, and I got my annual bonus at work. So I bought the super-dee-duper 24 Hour Fitness discounted membership via www.costco.com. Ya'll, almost anyone can afford this prepaid deal at $12.50/month!

Okay, I'm signed up. I went in and had a talk with Mr. Sales Manager. Of course, he pointed out that I was clueless, had a lot of work to do, and probably would just stop coming on my own. So I am NOW signed up (and a little lighter in the bank account bonus area) for some personal training. Oy. How embarrassing. The trainer will no doubt weigh and measure me. The very thought is heinous, but I plan on being able to looking back to this weight and size.

I am a good worker, a former athlete, and I have a lot of persistence and sticktoitiveness. God willing, I will find a way to be more fit and way more healthy. God help me.

I'm just putting this out to the Universe to make my stand, and be accountable . . . at least to me. I'd better head over to www.sparkpeople.com to be accountable there as well. Gotta love that food diary.

You Gotta Love a Cheetah

Turns out they need to resst up . . . a lot . . . for all those high-speed chases. Who knew?

Classic Meerkat

King of the Wild Animal Park

Here is a raw photo from our trip to Wild Animal Park down near Escondido. They have several many adolescent male lions who are fascinating to watch. This shot is so lovely the way the fountain grass mirrors his fur.

Today's the Day . . .

"Work out at any Express (Fitlite), Active or Sport Club without restriction."

Sounds great, right? And only $299 for two years. That is about $12.50 per month, and it doesn't get any better than that.

I am feeling old, fat, bloated, winded . . . and just plain unhealthy. If you are what you eat, I am basically a lumpy, bumpy chocolate chip cookie. After hitting yet another birthday, and wishing I were more fit and healthy, and after having the Kaiser people point out my BMI every time I visit them, I am choosing to be ready to be disciplined enough to care about my body, my life and my health. If not me, who else?

Costco is offering a membership for $299 and this is THE deal it took to get me to sign up. Okay, I'm not signed up ro signed in, but I have now paid for the deal. The 24 Hour Fitness people were kind enough to build an "Active Club" (basics only) at the bottom of my hill. I should do them the return favor of visiting them and participating in my own destiny.

Yup. It's all paid for. I will sign up. I will go. I will be a better me.

Happy Birthday, Butch

So here I am -- almost as tall as the trees of Arden in the late hours of a winter afternoon.

This was from a trip to Arden near Ashville. Yes, I flew all the way to North Carolina to visit my friend Butch, who is gone now, but not forgotten. It would have been his birthday right about now.

He did not make it to 53 so I go on without him. I hope wherever he is, he can look down and know I am thinking of him. I am sure his family is remembering him fondly today as well.

Guess Where?

Nope. You thought it was Hawaii again, didn't you? This happens to be Laguna Beach down at the cliff's edge where Las Brisas is the best patio hangout with drinks and AMAZING guacamole. Yum.

June Gloom Has Arrived

To counteract the gloom of our first day of June, here is a photo from the lovely shores of Kauai. It is almost always sunny on the lee side near Poipu. This is just a bit north near the blowhole.
Ahhh, good times.

The Original E Ticket

Yup. The Granddaddy of all Disneyland Mountains. Originally, one of your precious E Tickets would go to ride the Matterhorn (before the silly Abominable Snowman was added.)

This is the one we all wanted to go on before Space Mountain and Splash Mountain and Big Thunder Mountain -- the one where you might get lucky enough to cuddle up to a boy because they put larger passenger with smaller passenger in front of them.

Now, it seems like a bone-jarring way to spend a few minutes, but you still get a thrill as you fly down the mountain.

Tinkerbell flies off the top to start the fireworks. That is one crazy sight, now.

Ahhh, the Matterhorn. Good times. Not quite Switzerland's version, but a good one. Check it out on your Internet map site with the Satellite option on! Search on Anaheim, California near Harbor and Katella -- or maybe closer to Ball Road.

Photo-a-Day

This is a dark of the night from Fantasyland shot of the carousel horses as we were waiting for the fireworks. Beautiful old merry go round was one of the first pieces at the park way back in the 50s, right? To me, it always feels like the heart of Disneyland. I still miss the "buckets" that flew overhead. That was a great ride.

I got to go on Winnie the Pooh ride and the Astro Blasters ride/game for the first time ever, but I kept noticing things that are gone. Sort of sad and made me feel truly old. Of course, I still remember the ticket booths and booklets that only gave you one or two E Tickets. Remember? (If so, you too are old.)

I'm Going to Disneyland!

Before . . . After . . .

Can't wait for tonight's American Idol results. And I hear they are going to immediately say, "I'm going to Disneyworld!"

Well, Florida is WAY too far away, but I just went to Disneyland. In case you don't already know, you can get in free on your birthday (if you register on their website, they e-mail you a certificate with a bar code).

In the first photo above, I am all happy and energized at the beginning of the day. In the second, I am on the Astro Blaster ride and not looking too good. I felt a little crippled after walking 12 hours. I didn't get dinner, and there were WAY too many people there celebrating. It was a hot day that turned chilly, and I learned that the Tinkerbell that flies over Fantasyland, is a dude.

Well, that's sort of fitting for our new American Idol hopeful, Adam Lambert. That boy can sing! He has provoked a lot of fantasy from boys and girls, and he is very good at dress up. Can't wait to hear him sing for free for the last time. We'll all be paying for his album or to see him on Broadway soon, I'm sure.

OH, THE HUMANITY

Yahoo! Love Yahoo! Always have. Always will. But must they tease us with the absolutely most superficial headlines/photos ever?!? If someone was watching, would you really click on those links? Somehow they suck you in. You're alone. You're bored. You MUST know what is happening in the world.

This is my favorite of all time . . . "Kardashian Embarassed by Sunburn."

When you compare "Obama braces country for slow, steady recovery," which link would your most basic instinct, that rudimentary, brain stem, knee jerk reaction in you, cause you to click?

I HAD to see Kim Kardashian's sunburn. What kind of sunburn would cause you to Twitter such humiliation? Wouldn't you just NOT Twitter?

And in the grand scale of things, why would such a thing every truly matter to us?!? People are dying. People are out of work. Horrible things are happening all around us, but a celebrity with a sunburned is ashamed of her tan line and is vowing never to wear her Prada sunglasses while vacationing in a Mexican resort -- ever again. Her cry for help is sooo poignant and touching,

"PLEASE HELP ME! This tan line is not ok!!!"

Please be sure to check it out. And as your penance, please click on World Vision's website and make a donation. There are widows and orphans in refugee camps who need Prada sunglasses or maybe food, shelter and medicine.

Big Week

On Saturday, we had free tickets (courtesy of Grammy Museum membership) to see two unknown (to us) artists: Madeleine Peyroux and William Fitzsimmons. We were partial to William. We got to see the oh-so-fabulous Club Nokia. It was uber cool and still had that new club feel. I got a VIP wristband, but couldn't hit the Level 4 VIP Lounge as kidlette is under 21.

Ah, the things I do to stay devoted to her. Reminds me of the time they called me to the desk at our Air France flight to let me know I had been upgraded to business class. It was as if the heavens opened up to me. The bigger seats that lay down flat on that 10 hour plus trip to London!! Alas, I had not signed the kidlette up for their frequent flyer program. She was not upgraded. How could I leave her back in steerage alone?

On Tuesday, we had the best Cesar Chavez Day ever. Okay, it's a new holiday. I had to take a vacation day and she had the day off from school. We went to Warner Bros. Studios and got a private tour from my contact in Special Events. It was very whirlwind on a golf cart, but we pulled up to the two "ER" sets (being dismantled) and poked around inside. We stood in "Trauma 2." We pulled into the ambulance bay and looked back at the Jumbo Mart.

Best part was the "Friends" Central Perk set over in the Property Dept. We got to sit on THE couch and pretend to be friends, drinking coffee. Very cool.

Next, we went to Americana at Brand over in Glendale. This was a very hip new shopping/dining arena with very cool decor and a town square with a dancing waters fountain, complete with music. Best part for kidlette was the three-story Barnes & Noble. It was dreamy in there. They had such big book sections, tons of music and DVD movies. Delightful. I had to buy "Kate & Leopold" just because I'm addicted to that movie.

Now, I am facing being approved for adopting a second dog. Miss Wishbone sure could use a friend. I have passed the hurdles of the application, phone interview, and foster mom phone interview. Now they have to do a "house check." YIKES. Does that mean it should be CLEAN? Or should there actually be a TIDY YARD?!? Well, I've got hours tomorrow to dog proof the yard and house, and get it clean enough for the human who will be the inspector. It may be worth all the effort to adopt Andrew . . . he's a precious 10-yr-old Sheltie who they say is a perfect gentledog and very beautiful.

The Eyeliner

My kidlette is 17 (and a half). There are so many issues to deal with, being 17. I get that. I remember. She is still learning to drive the car. We need to get her licensed and insured -- like this month. I do remember her being 17 months old. It was hard to be 1-1/2.

Actually, every age is hard. I've said that to sympathize her whole life.

"It's hard to be one, isn't it?"

Well, it's hard to be 17.

Let me say this one thing -- it's a pet peeve. I can’t stand the eyeliner. She is so bad at it. And she’s so fair-skinned that I recommended MAYBE NOT THE BLACK. How about a charcoal or off-black? We nearly had a parting of the ways in the makeup section of Target.

Wait, maybe we did part ways. We don’t talk much anymore. She was sooo sweet as a little one. The sweetest kid ever. We were once sooo close. Now we are almost strangers in the same house.

I blame it on the eyeliner.

Becoming Wallpaper

I wanna hide.

I want to delete my blog here. If there weren't so many small memories that I want to keep, I would just wipe it out, but I'm too tired to take time to save them. Since I lost all my photos and data in the hard drive crash, I think losing this would be a bit much right now.

I am hoping to become wallpaper. Or what did they call girls who only watch at the junior high school dance . . . wallflowers. Is that like the flowers on the wallpaper?

Have you seen Zach Braff in Garden State? At one point he wears a shirt made out of the same pattern as the bathroom wallpaper. He blends in except for his head. You gotta laugh. Okay I need that shirt and that wallpaper. (Nobody wallpapers anymore. Have you noticed that?)

Okay, I am easily distracted. Now I want to look up the origins of wallflower. Hold on. I'll BRB. No news. I found wall+flower. Stupid etymology dictionary.

I've bored myself to death with this. Wait, maybe it's working!!

Sunshine and Snowcaps

I know you cannot get enough of my weather fascination -- so I must tell you what sunshine feels like today. And I wish I could show you what the snow-capped hills and mountains looked like. Sadly, I been working all day.

We have had a big dumping sort of rain for DAYS. Okay, I know, I know it's a drought here in California, but seriously!? I have learned to venture out into it since day after day after day . . . RAIN.

It never rains in California,
But girl don't they warn ya'
It pours.
Man, it pours.

Okay, the worst that can happen is . . . you get wet. Can I get a witness on how it feels to have the back of your tattered jeans be wet for hours? I need some sort of shorter pants, higher shoes, or a special form of radar for puddles. I also need more shoes that cover my toes. Okay, I need taller shoes that cover my toes. That's it! I've solved the problem. Meanwhile, on Friday afternoon, I sat in the theater watching He's Just Not That Into You with soggy pants bottoms THE WHOLE TIME.

Today is Wednesday . . . and glory be . . . the Sun came out. I went to buy beans at Starbucks, and had to stop for a very long moment in the parking lot to look up at the Sun. I had to wear my Sunglasses. I threw my head back and turned full face to the Sun. YAY! Vitamin D. Good UVA and UVB rays. Wait, are those bad? Well, there are some wavelength of rays that feel positively, absolutely wondrous. Sunshine!

After days of gray and wet and dark and thunder and puddles and pouring down rain . . . it is a tonic like no other. It's warm and wondrous and worshipful. I think I get the whole Egyptian RA thing. I think I would have joined. Not sure I'd build the Temple to Ra, or sculpt his likeness out of sandstone, but maybe I would?

Computer Meltdown

Yup. Dell baby took a dive -- well, at least the hard drive. I guess it was three years in the making. There were some weird signs for a few months, but it finally got to the place where all the pointers to all the files live. Dead. Blue screen of death. No going back. No booting. And forget about safe mode!

I was clever enough to find the place on dell.com where I could buy the exact replacement drive for my machine. This was the second time I was glad I have an account with Dell. That makes ordering like one click away. They are good to me. It seemed like it arrived the next day.

That leaves me with the challenge of getting the thing inside a laptop. I found a DIY video on the support site for Dell, but I will admit. It looked daunting. There were no girls in this DIY video. So I resorted to calling on my buddy ol' pal -- our beloved IT guy at work. He installed it, got XP up and running with I.E. I managed to get logged on, but I am still struggling with the rest.

What a chore. All I want is my Quicken back. And if someone could clue me in on how the Western Digital Passport works. My really good stuff is locked in there. Have to download Acrobat to read the online guide. Small steps, eh?

Meanwhile we have rain. Days of rain. I looked out on what looks like the Alps this morning, our local mountains full of snow outside my kitchen window.

Thoughts as January Zooms Down the Road

2009. We are about 1/12th done with the year. Whoooooosh!!!

I keep thinking I can keep the New Year alive if I don't manage to make a resolution, go to a gym, or clean my house. Magical thinking, I suppose.

I've decided it's because I'm lazy. Completely lazy. I musta got lost somewhere down the line.

I got all psyched and hyped up with the Big Inauguration. Awesome. Loved it. Love Aretha's Hat even! Actually, I loved the Benediction the most. That guy was very real. And I have been watching very carefully all the decisions by President Obama these first days in office. He is a man of his word, and a man of action. I love him. Can we keep him? I am more hopeful each day. Well, I haven't really looked into the Stimulus Plan. Lazy, I guess.

Now we all know nothing will change about this lazy problem until I decide to stop being lazy and DO something. I think it kind of goes back to making resolutions and going to the gym. If we are what we eat, I am sort of a danish/fun size Almond Joy/granola/organic vegetarian enchilada person. Yeah, not very appealing, and not poised for action.

Okay. I decide. Today, I am going to decide to do something. Maybe each day I can decide on one small change, one small step toward activity rather than inactivity. I guess I'll have to decide tonight to make a plan for some healthier foods, including PRODUCE. Next stop, Fresh & Easy. Or maybe I should splurge on Whole Foods. That place is like an organic produce party -- with a hefty cover charge.

Change for today - plan for produce.

Etsy Browsing

Okay, since I have resorted to blogging about the weather (yet another sign that I'm old), thought I'd share a distraction with you . . .

It's the cutest little Honey Tea necklace. I can't believe how clever this is with the topaz crystals dangling down into the teacup. It looks like it's pouring into the cup. Happy.

Enjoy. Get the Green Tea one for yourself and this Honey Tea one for me!

Elbows?

Okay, now I know I'm truly OLD. My elbows hurt. Unless I think back to being maybe 8 years old and falling down and skinning by elbows, I don't think they have ever hurt me.

I am going to chalk it up to the impending rainstorm after almost two weeks of glorious sunshine out here. Once upon a time, I had a knee injury from skiing. For years, it would ache when the pressure changed and it was going to rain.

But elbows? Seriously. Okay, it's either an arthritis kind of ache or maybe I have tumors in my bones. I know. I shouldn't even say that "out loud" here on the blog.

So let it rain already.

Summer during Winter

Yesss. Maybe you know this about me. I love summer. I love it to be at least 70 degrees -- 75 even better. I love sunshine -- even if the dermatologist told me, "No sun for you!," after the first tiny bit of skin cancer. Alas.

I am convinced I just FEEL better when the sun is shining. There may be something to this Vitamin D idea or the S.A.D.D., but I have become aware that it all effects me. Lately, I have noticed that I just LOOK better since I've been reviewing photos with a bit of sunshine showing on my face during June/July. Yup.

What I'm leading up to here is . . . we have had a week full of summer weather in the 80s. Thank you, Lord. Whatever we did or didn't do to earn this reprieve, thank you.

The only problem is . . . we are getting used to it!

Oh Yeah, John Mayer Was Awesome . . . Twice

We were in the 5th row. You remember how that happened -- the fan club upgrade. Like magic.

Here is what it looked like.

Of course, there were way too many cameras held up the entire time, but I managed to love the whole damn thing. John was chatty, and I love that. He was nervous and seemed very human. He played and played and we loved it.

I turned a little techno geek with my BlackBerry, and looked up lyrics when I recognized the songs. I like reading along with the actual words, figuring out what he means.

The Grammy concert was the bomb, too. I was in an altered state, but no worries. I got a ride with a lovely friend from Murietta. We had way too much fun. And seeing the girls sing . . . Mariah, Celine, Christina, and young Taylor was a treat. Hearing John and B.B. was magical -- the horn section was rockin' loud. Then we got the bonus hour of John Mayer with his screaming electric solo version of Crossroads. Yeah.

You shoulda been there. He played Crossroads as an encore again on Saturday night and here is what that looked like. What a happy boy. And he made us happy.

I Meant to Write . . .

I keep thinking thoughts, and organizing them in my head in order to share here.

Unfortunately . . . I don't follow through with the next step. Maybe I should define the steps.

1. Think thought
2. Log on
3. Blog
4. Post

I guess I should be glad I manage to think thoughts, but that's setting the bar pretty damn low.

December was great, except for the Christmas part. I tried to avoid participating, and really, really tried to keep the bugdet LOW. This was 2008 in a land of impending doom with the equity gone and the college fund dwindling. I was a bit Grinchy and took a total Scrooge approach to the holiday season. At work, we didn't really decorate much and cards were mailed out about Dec. 17.

I was doing great. Everything was according to Bah Humbug plan until the weekend of December 20-21. In these two days, I finally managed to put up a tree and stockings, e-mailed a Christmas card, went to church, visited Grandma #1, and finished shopping. I suddenly realized that Amazon and Dell would still ship me stuff by Monday or Tuesday in time for Wednesday and Thursday Christmas celebrations. Woo hoo!

Then, it dawned on me . . . I have a Dell credit card with a ZERO balance. I almost heard music. I loaded up and even asked for NEXT DAY shipping. I ordered a modest amount on Amazon and paid cash via debit card. The totals were racking up quickly.

I went nuts and even bought myself a new camera. I'd already spent a ton on the kidlette (joy of the only child) and she really wanted a camera. I thought for a long time about this, wanting to make her happy. I was mostly pissed about her constantly stealing my camera because the one her dad gave her broke twice and had been declared dead. After thinking good thoughts and pumping up my own self worth, I thought, "I'm the mom. I'm the photographer. I'm the scrapbooker. I deserve the bitchen boss camera. I need the upgrade. She can have mine which is pretty damn great since it's mine and I picked it and it works great. Yup.

I got the same camera, a little bit newer, bigger and better . . . with the option of a viewfinder, 18 times optical zoom, and 10 Mega Pixels. It's awesome and still affordable -- well, if you have a Dell account with a ZERO balance.

Dreamy, right? Well, I'll share more later. Didn't want you to think I died in the process of Christmas.

Real Life

Real life is chores and bills and errands. Yeah, I have a lot of that going on. So I sit here and avoid it. Actually, I'm in the middle of bills and Quicken and online banking. Thank God for tools to make that all easier, but it still takes time.

Fun life is shopping and music and movies. I started Christmas shopping early. This year, I resolve to wrap as I go. If I can manage to do that, I will not have to stay up so late on Christmas Eve watching the Pope in Rome. After all, I'm not even Catholic! Somehow I am always watching the Pope Show and hoping I don't run out of Scotch tape.


Now for music . . . I am going to two concerts this week! Two! It might be a new personal best. On Wednesday night, look for me on TV. CBS is broadcasting an hour-long show live to announce the major Grammy Nominations Live. I'm sure you'll see me way back in the Loge section. I just couldn't pass up a chance to see the Foo Fighters and John Mayer. Woo hoo! Also performing will be B.B. King and Taylor Swift. I guess I will endure Mariah Carey and Celine Dion in order to see Dave Grohl and the boys. I thought this would be my only chance to see John Mayer and it might be for only one song, but as it turns out . . .he is playing an hour long concert after the TV taping. Bonus!!



I am also going to see John Mayer in his 2nd Annual Charity Holiday Revue, called "On His Own." I didn't realize he was playing at Nokia AGAIN when I bought the Grammy show tickets. So I had to try for fan club tickets as my membership from last year was still good. It might be all acoustic, it might be solo. I will take what I can get. I am truly hoping for new music. It's time, right? And he has mentioned recording a new C.D., so we will be the first to hear it. The best news is that I got upgraded to the 5th row! Can you believe it? Very stoked. Here's the story . . .

I was online at www.local-83.com (Mayer fan club site) the minute the presale fan club tickets were available, but the Pit seats were gone. Then, it told me that Orchestra seats were gone. WTF? It was 10:02 with a 10:00 start time. I tried again, and got seats in Row N. I was still very excited. (Last year we were in something like RR, way over on the left – and it was still amazingly great, not sure how JM will top last year.)

I got an e-mail from MusicToday (fan club ticketing folks) that said I had been upgraded to Front Row! I had heart palpitations and was hyperventilating a bit. Is that silly? It was a really crappy day at work and I felt like there was some magic justice in the Universe that had looked down on me and smiled.

Unfortunately, I found two more e-mails, one saying they made an error, but I had been upgraded; and a second one showing the ticket change to 4th row, center section. Still! I feel supremely blessed, and it changed my perspective about work and life just a little.

Just the thought of being in the 5th row is exciting. But BEING THERE, IN THE MOMENT, will be the biggest thrill of all. Live music soothes my soul and rocks my core more than anything I can imagine. Actually, I wish life could be accompanied at every moment by some form of music. How great would that be?


It makes me wonder how my neurons are connected. Maybe the eyes and ears are connected to a music center in the hypothalamus or something. Well, at least mine are. And there is only one thing that can properly tickle my brain center -- a rockin', screamin', guitar solo with some insightful, soulful lyrics. It doesn't hurt when they are played or sung by some very cute guys who share it all with us so freely. Thanks, John and Dave.

We Did It!

Yes, we did. We elected the first black President in America.

I left work and got home to vote right after 7:30. For some reason, there is never a wait at my polling place. I inked the dots and checked to see #12 was correctly filled in.

I drove through El Pollo Loco for a chicken dinner, listening to NPR talk about Virgina going to Obama. Not since Johnson in 1964 has Virginia gone Democratic.

I got home right about 7:55 just in time to turn on ABC news to hear Charlie Gibson count down the seconds to 8:00 in order to call the election for Obama. The moment the polls closed in California, they dumped all of our electoral votes in the blue bucket and put him over the magic number.

They started flashing to Times Square in New York and all the places where people were starting to rejoice. I had to cry a little when I saw the young black kids start dancing and jumping and screaming down at Morehouse College where Martin Luther King, Jr., went to school. The dream he had is one step closer.

I got to see McCain give his concession speech to the lily white crowd of rich folks over in Phoenix at the Biltmore with that moron Palin at his side.

People were literally dancing in the streets and pouring out into public places in huge numbers. A roar started outside the White House on Pennsylvania Avenue where hundreds of happy voters were congregating in the street. The thought of Bush being gone has been a long time coming, but now we have the man we hope will bring us real and good change.

Obama spoke from Grant Park in Chicago on TV. It was eloquent and moving, and once again very inspiring. He told his girls they have earned a new puppy to take to the White House! How great.

I hope you all got to see pictures and videos of the joy. It really has been a long eight years.

Now, if we can bring home the troops from Iraq and finally track down Bin Laden, our joy will be complete. Oh, and if it's not too much to ask, can we get some of our trillion dollars back from the greedy banking bastards?

And for Christmas, I'd like some new tax tables for the middle class. Pretty please?

America’s First Black President
Historic election
Barack Obama beats John McCain to become the 44th president. » McCain concedes
Election map: Results
Obama's next challenge
CNN's hologram reporter
Live: Election coverage
Election 2008 Results

Months of Work . . . it's in the details

I'm not sure if being a tad bit OCD is good for a meeting planner. If you don't obsess on the details, how will it all come together? On its own?

Here I am in Fallbrook in the Sun Room of the Pala Mesa Resort with my table setting -- in the still quiet room before all the people enter and take over the place. I should have taken a picture the next day after we trashed the place. I love these pre-banquet moments the best. Only the band is setting up. It's so cool and quiet in there. All the linens and programs and flowers and candles and chairs are in place with the place settings just waiting for people -- to come and dine.

Well, I'm not sure it was worth all those sleepless nights and headaches and all, but I did love this moment.

And I kinda like my Nordstrom.com top I ordered the week before. It was stretchy and cute and did the trick.

Having a blast . . . Wish you were here. All the best, Geri

Rock N Roll Will Never Die

Omigosh, just had a moment of pure joy watching Farm Aid 08 as Neil Young rocked the place with "A Day in the Life." It was amazing and magical, and ended with a thrashed guitar. He actually was playing broken strings at the end. I've never seen anyone do that song -- it's so chaotic and huge, but Neil and the band totally nailed it. It made me feel like the hippie spirit was alive and well. Listening and watching that was like having a piece of the 60s transported in time to 2008. If you get a chance, find a way to see this magic.

I tuned in to watch a litte Dave Matthews. He was acoustic and up close with Tim Reynolds -- so great. I had to get up off the couch and dance to Ants Marching. Very fun. Dave is so true and pure. He gives off a sort of glow that reaches out and makes you feel like you are all right, and everything's all right, and there is love and peace enough to go around. Gotta love Dave.

What a great message Farm Aid has -- good food, locally or regionally grown by family farms the way God intended it. To see the factory farms with animals penned up is just a crime. It doesn't have to be that way.

Check out the Farm Aid website. They have links to Farmers Markets all over the country. I was surprised how many are in Los Angeles. I am going to make a point of buying produce on Saturday mornings at our Farmers Market even if i have to put on my hat/sunglasses/big sweatshirt disguise. (I am not a morning person.) I have lived here almost 6 years and never been down there.

So . . . there is joy. Neil Young plays the Beatles and there is good food. Awesome.

The End of Summer

We have had a change in the weather out here. Instead of August heat, we have a chill in the air in the mornings and it stayed gray all day today.

It happens every year, but I am never properly prepared. Summer is my favorite time. I don't know what difference it makes now. I am stuck in an office all week long, then I collapse in a heap for a couple days, avoiding chores to rest up for another week in the office. Lately, there is just way too much OFFICE in my life. And don't get me started on FREEWAY.

I guess I am always nostalgic for those long summer days when we were young. My biggest problem was boredom. I so loved getting friends together to play, ride bikes, or go to the pool at the high school. Admission was 25 cents, and all you needed was your suit and a towel. Once you got there, all you needed was a quick mandatory rinse in the shower and enough guts to jump off the high dive!

We used to ride our bikes everywhere in the neighborhood. We would stay out as late as we could (until the street lights came on!), and try to ignore our moms screaming out our names, followed by, "Dinner's ready!" Once she threw in your middle name, you knew for sure it was time to go in.

We are in the last days of Summer for sure. School has already started. There are no days at the pool. I can't remember the last time I rode a bike. And my yardwork has suffered in the heat of August.

I guess it's time to find something to look foward to . . . maybe Christmas? I should plan my Christmas vacation and take a trip to the mountains! Okay, maybe Santa Barbara? That would be nice.

Rest in Peace, Butch

Butch Schrier Passed Away -- August 17, 2008

I was walking into work from the parking structure, checking e-mail on my BlackBerry. It's not a great one, and I couldn't quite make out the e-mail from an address I didn't know, but the subject was Butch Schrier.

I only had a tiny screen to read a few lines at a time, and I'm not very good with the trackwheel so I scrolled down and just saw bits and pieces. I was sure that it was a message that Butch's mom had died. She was probably close to 95. I saw obituary, Norwalk, services, "our loss."

By the time I got upstairs to the office, I was sure it was about Butch -- that he had died. There was no mention of how. I walked into my office, stunned. When I got to my desk, I checked my e-mail and there it all was on the big screen . . . an obituary with viewing and funeral information. Butch died on Sunday in Anaheim.

It didn't seem right. He was just 52. I thought maybe an accident had happened. Maybe his diabetes got bad.

The e-mail was from his ex-wife, and she had an e-mail address. So I sent a note of sympathy to her and her boys, and asked how and where it happened.

We don't know more than what we observed...he was coughing and complaining of shortness of breath last week and was taking some meds for that. He lost his mother on Friday so he made the trip out here to start the planning on Sunday. On Sunday morning he again was having trouble breathing and 911 was called. That's it...that's all.

Wow. Unbelievable. And so strange that his mom had died on Friday. And him on Sunday.

Here is what was written for Butch's obituary.

All,

Thank you all for your heartfelt wishes for our loss. I have included below the obituary which will be published on Thursday in the Press Telegraph (local paper in Norwalk CA area). Please send flowers if you wish, although in lieu of flowers the family is requesting you make a donation to the charity of your choice in his name or contact Barbara Redick who will be setting up accounts for his children and grandchild to be used for education purposes. If you require additional information, please contact me.

Albert John Schrier, Jr.
August 17, 2008 – Anaheim, CA

Albert, known to his friends and family as Butch, was born in Southern California in June of 1956 to Frances and Albert J. Schrier Sr. Butch grew up in Norwalk and attended Santa Fe High School in Santa Fe Springs. He started his career in the automotive industry at an early age as one of the youngest drag race crew chiefs. His love for all things automotive continued throughout his life, including hot rods, riding dirt bikes, drag racing, building engines and developing new automotive technologies.

He was survived by his daughter Tammy, sons A.J. and Robert, and grand-daughter Kamryn. Butch was a Brother, Uncle, Father, Grandfather to some, but most of all he was a friend to all.

Viewing will be held on Thursday, August 21, at 5:00 p.m. at Chapel of Memories. Services for Butch will be held on Friday, August 22, at 11:00 a.m. at Bethany Church in Long Beach, CA. He will be laid to rest at Little Lake Cemetery in Norwalk.

Wow. I feel like I do want to go to the funeral. I really hate the viewing part, and believe it should be for family. It might help make it more real. It is so hard to have this sink in -- when someone goes suddenly.

I keep wanting to share with someone who knew him. He had just e-mailed me on Wednesday, and asked me to keep in touch. I sent him some news and mentioned I had known him for almost five years. Either yesterday or Sunday, I wondered about him and thought about why he had not e-mailed back. I thought about him this morning even. It's going to be hard to think of him as gone.

August

I need a hobby. A hobby that does not involve a screen -- as in the computer or TV.

The hobby should be gardening, but in the August heat, not so good (although I did manage to prune ALL my rosebushes to remove the dead flowers last Sunday).

The hobby should be scrapbooking since I have one ton of photos from London and Paris, but I just can't muster up the wherewithall. Is that how you spell it? And where can I buy some?

The hobby should be cross stitching since I bought a kit last year, and never managed to get past sorting all my floss colors. Hmmm. Maybe if I become bedridden . . .

The hobby should be walking. I just can't manage to drag myself up the steep inclines of my neighborhood. There is always the new gym they built at the bottom of my hill, but that costs money!

The hobby should be cleaning, but that really is a chore, not a hobby, right? We are doing okay. And no one visits lately.

Okay, I'm back to TiVo and Internet. And it's a lot like work using the Internet -- uses all the same muscles. Well, TiVo IS my true love, but I'm thinking I should break TiVo's damn heart! I gotta branch out.

Well, there's always shopping, but again -- the $$$ thing.

ARGH.

Everyone should have a river run through the middle of their town.

Sitting by the Seine.


Courtney and the pyramid court of the Louvre


ME! Happy as a clam in front of Nike and her fans.


It's funny what you remember about a whirlwind day tour of Paris.

I remember getting up wicked early to catch a black cab to the station to catch the Eurostar.

I remember the beggars outside Notre Dame, "Do you speak English."

I remember the cute little park next to our bateau mouche dock. So cute.

I remember the butter and ham sandwich! And my cold Heineken, waiting for the boat tour.

I remember the crazy girls in front of us, taking videos of each other, all the way down the Seine.

I remember walking into the first courtyard of the Louvre and being wowed. So big.

I remember the statues brought up from the basement, covered in a gauzy fabric, looking sad.

I remember the deep crimson walls of the Italian painting hall in the Louvre.

I remember being so frustrated, trying to buy a ticket at the Orsay, only to find out it was free.

I remember sitting with some statues outside the museum after it closed, drinking water.

I remember when we couldn't find the Metro station near Musee d'Orsay.

I remember sitting on the steps of Sacre Coeur with hundreds of folks, listening to some African guy play Hallelujah by Leonard Cohen on his electric guitar and little amp. It became a singalong. I wonder if they know it means Praise the Lord?

St. Stephen's Tower

Pillars of Royal Naval College, outside the Painted Hall


Looking back across the River



Sunset after 9:00 p.m. Crazy, right?

Royal Observatory Cafe Terrace

St. Stephen's Tower (aka Big Ben)

It was a long day. We missed the Shakespeare walking tour because we had not planned for train delays. Avoid South Kensington station in the a.m. That's all I'm going to say about that.

I took advantage of the moment and avoided pouting about the missed tour. We went down the pier and bought tickets to Greenwich. It was such a nice day in the sun on the River Thames. We got to see so much from the river. It was a slow and lazy trip down and such a lovely place once we got there.

We saw the Royal Observatory, the Prime Meridian, the fabulous park full of grass and trees, the Queen's House, and the Royal Naval College. We managed to load up on cash at an ATM and hit the gift shop just off the Greenwich Pier. We had lunch at the Observatory Cafe and looked at the park. Just beautiful.

When we returned, we walked around Westminster Abbey, down Whitehall Street with the war memorials, peeked at the Royal Horse Guard area and looked toward 10 Downing Street . . . all before embarking on our Westminster by Gaslight (London Walking Tour). We had a really great guide named Angela. She had a very dry humor and a quick wit and had loads of stories about Parliament, the House of Commons, the House of Lords, the history of the places, and a little bit of politics thrown in for good measure. We shared in the Bush bashing, and walked all around, across the River, and back.

One of my best, most unique experiences was sitting in on the House of Commons. I guess it was a debate about Food Security. We heard a lot about Bovine TB and badgers, and how they do things in France and the States. I was fascinated by the set-up and figured out the smartest folks were on the Front Benches.

What a day. I'm sorry we missed Shakespeare and the Globe Theatre and Bankside, but I was so grateful to have a day in Greenwich. (Three people had recommended it to me, and it seems it was meant to be.)

Random Shots

Prince Albert & Queen Victoria (Theed 1867)


Stairs in National Portrait Gallery


St. Martin-in-the-Fields Church (Gibbs 1726)

Have you ever seen this lily? I hadn't.

I Guess

I guess I am easily disappointed. I am very enthusiastic and get excited about new possibilities. I spin them in a string of positive expectations, and then all it takes is a good strong dose of reality to dash my hopes.

My immediate reaction is to push to get my way. I think, “I can make this happen.” If they see my good intentions, my great idea, the plan for something great . . . they will surely come around and join in. Nope. Reality. It can bite – hard.

The question is . . . what then? What do you do next? Pout? Stomp your feet? If you’ve explained your reasoning, that’s all you can do, right? That, and wait.

I guess I have a hard time waiting. That great plan is just sitting there on the horizon, waiting to be realized. I can’t get anyone to play with me, so I sit, looking at the great plan – alone.

I guess that’s the time when a certain sadness sets in. Unrealized hopes are a hard pill to swallow. Or maybe it slides down real easy? And if you do swallow the bitter pill, it can kind of take over and steal your energy and enthusiasm.

There are a few choices at this point. Escapism is good – entertain yourself with movies or books or whatever tickles your fancy. Substances are bad. Altering yourself to a different sort of escape enough times, you either learn or lose.

I guess I should rally to be productive, get all the things done that need doing and cannot be escaped. This is tough. I am more energized when I’m part of the great plan with hopes being lived out. I get sluggish and lethargic and keep looking for escapism. I end up in a TV marathon of movies on TV, TiVo, or DVDs, avoiding the chores and real life.

And so I sit here writing about it. All I can say is, “I guess,” when I’m sure I should be working away. After working all week through the drudgery of sitting in front of screen, here I am in front of a screen.

I guess I’ll take a break from my week of work, and watch a movie. Yeah, I guess that will be great. That, and a cup of coffee. If only I could hire a maid and a gardener. Life would be a bit more perfect. Then, I could sit in a clean house or out in the tidy garden. Dang. I guess I shoulda been born rich.

Buck House

London and Paris

We did it. We turned our dollars into Pounds and Euros, and toured a little bit of Europe. It was my second time to Paris and our first time ever to see London.

Here we are the Royal Observatory in Greenwich - the site of 0 degrees longitude and Greenwich Mean Time. What a lovely place.

Does this observatory not remind you of some crazy professor living up on the hill near Mary Poppins? It must have been built around that time.

We especially liked having lunch near the back of this building, with a view of the Royal Park.

Horrorscope

This is a good time to follow that urge to express your deep inner changes in your personal growth and publish or write your own books.

Wow.

Nice.

It doesn't say anyone will read it or buy a book, now does it?

My Yahoo Horrorscope is often very insightful and strangely accurate. I try to ignore it. I don't really believe in running your life according to how the planets and stars align. God surely doesn't appreciate the worship of creation more than Creator.

Sometimes, I think we look for signs in all the wrong places. Well, at least I do. I tend to look for signs and wonders everywhere -- just more evidence of being a romantic idealist, full of faith and enthusiasm. Too bad that all my entusiasm is getting bashed by reality, and it's is taking a toll.

I try to BE REAL. Just be real with me. Yeah. If you are real enough for long enough, it will dash even your highest hopes. Maybe that's why we love movies and music so much. It's not real! Films take us away to another place, someone else's story full of beautiful people on a flickering screen. And the best music is a rhythmic, rhyming, idealize version of someone else's story that tickles your ears and your heart.

Yeah, I guess I like to live in that place -- movies and music, more than real life. Well, my love horrorscope for this month also said . . .

By the 14th and 15th, you could be tapping into a whole range of deeply-felt emotions: Passion, jealousy, moodiness, possessiveness. Sure, not all of these are comfortable, but you'd do better to explore them than to ignore them.

Yup. My 50th birthday on the 15th and I'll be feeling deeply. No doubt. I have plans to go hear my first ever Philharmonic Symphony -- Beethoven's Third. He changed the course of classical music to Romanticism. I bet he felt something very deeply to compose this one.

Yay. And Happy Birthday to me.

Senior Prom

I should dig up my senior prom portrait. I think I wore a ridiculous wreath of daisies in my hair, and carried a little bouquet of daisies, too. I loved them and the yellow lace dress I designed and my mother made for me. I think it was some of her finest work.

However, all the kids at prom pegged me as Mother Nature. Oh well, better noticed than not noticed? Of course, it didn't help that my date wore a YELLOW PLAID TUX. Guess he wanted to be noticed, too.

So I did my darndest to make sure my baby girl, now 16, looked beautiful and elegant and not like a bad margarine ad. I was sweating it out on Saturday afternoon with the curling iron upstairs during a heat wave, putting on the heaviest makeup she's ever worn, complete with eyelashes and three kinds of eyeliner. This, after weeks of planning which dress, which accessories, what kind of hairdo, and determining can we make do with the shoes we have?

She was a goddess in gold.

Next stop . . . Graduation. To celebrate . . . a trip to London! And Paris!

Eat at Joe's Diner. Have some pie!

"Dear Baby, I hope someday somebody wants to hold you for 20 minutes straight and that's all they do. They don't pull away. They don't look at your face. They don't try to kiss you. All they do is wrap you up in their arms and hold on tight, without an ounce of selfishness in it."

I rented the movie "Waitress" last weekend, and this is the BEST quote from it -- a special moment when the kindest man in her life does hold her for 20 minutes without expecting anything in return. You just have to see it.

I was very touched to learn that the writer/director, Adrienne Shelly (who also starred in the film as one of the waitresses), was murdered just before the film was a hit at Sundance. She was just 40, a wife and the mother of a beautiful little girl. It's so sad to think about it. She just hit her peak for love and life, and then was taken away senselessly.

So see the movie, and wait for the moment. It is so worth it.

Happiest Place on Earth

We had free tickets! Yay!
We ate giant corn dogs and candy! Yay!
We went on Space Mountain and Big Thunder Mountain twice each. Yay!
We waited in line for the Finding Nemo ride at 10:00 p.m. It was great. Yay!

Un Jour, Je Voudrais Visiter Paris Encore

Today, I bought a ticket to Paris.

Sitting on my couch in my living room, the signal left the laptop and travelled however the internet gets me to the London office of Eurostar.com. I got that weird feeling in my stomach when I know I am about to make a purchase I can't quite afford. I pushed the button anyway and charged two non-flexible tickets for the express train under the English Channel. Yup, non-refundable. We ARE going! That wasn't so hard, was it?

I probably wouldn't have pushed the button, except that the tickets were selling out (three months in advance!) and the dollar gets worse each week compared to the GB Pound or the Euro. Selling out? Nooo!!! The prices climbed a bit since I last checked, and we want to go on Friday instead of Monday since The Louvre is open late on Fridays. I guess everybody wants to go to Paris on Friday? It's probably the equivalent of a Friday flight on Southwest to Las Vegas, right?

Now, how to see Paris and the whole damn Louvre in one day. Hmmm. Not really feasible, but we are going to give it a go. If we get back by midnight, we can sleep in before the big concert starts in Hyde Park at 2:00 in the afternoon. We GOTTA be there early enough to get a good spot to see John Mayer open the show. With Sheryl Crow and Eric Clapton to follow, I might just be in rock n roll heaven. Live music . . . in the park . . . in the middle of London, England . . . the day after roving around Paris. The anticipation is almost too much.

I am having fun, researching the trip online. Remember the days when all you had was a brochure or a book?

Okay, back to reality and my spreadsheet of the costs of this monster trip.

And If I Had a Million Dollars

Twice today, I was asked how I would spend a million dollars (after taxes).

Typical response for the $1 million . . .

• $600,000 for a decent house (prices are dropping yanno)


• $50,000 for a fab car (will that pay for a basic Lexus?)


• $100,000 for college tuition for the kid (is that enough?).

I would love to find a way to help others rather than just be selfishly prudent. 10% won't go very far, but I would definitely give away at least that much ($100,000).

What do I have left? $150,000? I might buy a flower shop business, and live happily ever after as a shop owner and oh-so-creative floral designer -- even if I do have to work every Mother's Day and Valentines Day and every Saturday in June.

Of course, the kid would end up wanting to go to grad school, the car would get old, the house would need painting and new plumbing. Wait, how do I pay for my big property taxes?

Now, see how I can worry -- even about how to spend money I don't even have?! Makes me want to say, "Oy, keep the million. I'll do fine on my own."

But I would love that flower shop dream to come true.

What Fingers?

I'm a suspect -- a glaucoma suspect. Who knew?

I went in for my second round of glaucoma testing this morning. They never mentioned anything about dilating my eyes AGAIN, but they did! ARGH. It’s such a sunny day! I was going to get stuff done today, but now I'm hiding out from the sun and sort of nauseous with my giant pupils again. It feels like a migraine when I get sensitive to the light.

I guess they got a lot of nice retina scans to look for "cupping." She probed me for the thickness of the cornea with some tiny ultrasound device. I am not sure how that measurement helps. They repeated a vision test with my glasses on and took the eye pressure and blood pressure.

I did the visual fields test and it seemed like there was A LOT OF NOTHING in the middle of the test for my right eye. That really shook me up, and I made little muffled groaning noises. Surely there must have been little lights I just could not see.

I wanted to cry. It's a scary moment to think that whatever part of the eye was being tested . . . is just blind. Like the traumatic moment in the movies when they ask the blinded hero, "How many fingers am I holding up?"

And the dreaded response is, "What fingers?"

So I feel like I failed or something. It made me want to take the test again. I kept thinking I could do better. I hate failing tests. Thinking about it now, there's nothing to be done to avoid failing. If I can't see the little lights, I just can't, but I really do feel like they should have been there.

Dang.

Like the Mexican-American nurse told me when she checked me in for my first round of evaluation, "Eet's not lookeen good for yuuu."

Nice.

Thanks.

February 15th: After the Hype is Over

Yes, I survived Valentines Day, thank you very much. What a frantic rush of commercialism in the name of LOVE!

I saw couples heading for dinner last night. I checked them out. Do they MEAN it? Do they love each other every day? Or do they set aside their differences for the night? Is that as dressed up as that guy gets?! Is he really taking her to SoupPlantation as a special occasion? In a suit? (I'd pass if I got that invitation.)

So. Much. Hype.

Gosh, there is a lot of pressure to produce on February 14th. Although I'm not sure which is worse . . . to expect something and be let down, not to expect anything because he always lets you down, or not to have a Valentine sweetie at all.

Here is how I survived:

- Hid a small box of See's candy and a fabulous sparkly fairy card in the cereal bowl cabinet the night before for
my Valentine. (She smiled, but did not seem impressed.)
- Got kid ready for school.
- Realized that she had not finished her 15 Harry Potter Valentines with stickers and little boxes of conversation hearts the night before.
- Realized at 7:31 a.m. (we leave at 7:30 a.m. for school) that she could not print her super-custom valentine as the printer was out of black ink.
- Discovered that the spare "photo black" ink cartridge I had purchased for such an occasion would not help. We need the other black!
- Realized on our way to school that I was not going to get anything -- not even a kind word or the leftover box of conversation hearts -- from my sweet little Valentine girl. Geez.
- Had words and tears over this. (It's hard being 16. You just naturally ignore your single mom who sacrifices everything for your happiness and well-being!)
- Held my tongue when she wrote "Mamma" on the spare box of candy hearts.
- Realized I have PMS and gave up sweets for Lent -- so there will be no joy in Mudsville today.

- Drank coffee out my Beatles/Cirque du Soleil LOVE coffee mug! (Possibly the best moment of my day.)
- Drove to work, and got caught in traffic behind 3 accidents on 2 freeways.
- Fed 15 people or so for a lunch meeting. Tangy Tomato Salad is a hit again.
- More work, work, work.
- Drove in hideous, Valentine dinner time traffic. Everyone was going somewhere.
- Picked up kid at boyfriend's house -- fully loaded with a basket stuffed animals, chocolates, silk roses, mylar ballons. He got her a little bracelet. Ah, puppy love. How sweet.
- I drove through Weinerschnitzel (second time this week) for a Polish Sandwich and Iced Tea. (I had 10 minutes to get to my next stop and was in the wrong part of town for good food.)
- Headed for the Drum Line performance for parents so I could pass out the lastest fundraising propaganda. This Band Parents volunteer thing is killing me -- 3rd night this week.
- Went home and treated myself to pistachios -- remember, no sweets!
- Got to watch Eli Stone. That show is a treat for me.
- Looked at last year's heart-shaped See's candy box (sitting on a shelf under the TV, now holding greeting cards), and realized that all of this loneliness without an official "Valentine Man" is better than enduring the abuse of Mean Drunk Guy who thought I owed him big time for any such gifts, and it was okay to beat me up if he got drunk enough.

Yeah. I survived. All of it.

Hard Rock Calling 2008 - Hyde Park, London - June 28-29

YAY! We're going to London.

It's the kid's graduation gift -- the experience of a lifetime, complete with Eric Clapton and The Police, and our other favorites John Mayer and Sheryl Crow. Check out the Hard Rock Calling website. We have weekend tickets. We have plane tickets on Air France. And we are so very, very excited. Woo hoo!

And now, if you all could think good thoughts and try to get the dollar to come back in relation to the Pound and the Euro. Geez, we may not be able to eat over there! I read that Starbucks coffee and muffins for two is about $30. Whoa. And don't even get me started on hotel prices. The ones I can afford actually have enough fleas to be called fleabags. So we are going to pay the ransom asked by one of the cheapest Hilton Hotels, I think. Unless I can come up with an alternate plan.

Once in a lifetime -- together at least.

I am hoping to take the train to Paris. Those tickets are $105 on the Eurostar. I didn't realize it was only 2-1/2 hrs. to Paris under The Channel. Awesome. We are heading for the Louvre for sure with possible pit stops at the Tour Eiffel and Notre Dame. Hmm, what else can we do in one day? That's probably the limit.

Any helpful hints? I am all over Trip Advisor for cheap touring tips, but I can always use more!

Hundreds of Great Thoughts

And yet, none of them are here in my blog. I guess I've been too busy with life to post anything here. No one reads it anyhoo. Just me. My little dalliance. And after my dismal failure at NaBloPoMo, I got discouraged.

I have also been busy trying to jump start some resolutions. I really want to be healthier [read lighter] and I resolved to join the gym they built at the base of my hill for me -- but only after the New Year's swell in gym attendance dies down. Okay, now it's Valentines Day, and I need to get in there! I will.

At least I resolved to give up all sweets for Lent. Never been Catholic, but I like the tradition. Some things only come by prayer and fasting, you know. I messed up last weekend in the excitement of a big Filipino family party (family of my daughter's boyfriend). I wolfed down some Devil's Food Cake and something called a Turon (banana in a deep fried egg roll wrapper, covered in stickiness). Yum. When I automatically restrained myself from a second Turon, I stopped to ask myself why. Oh yeah, I'm off sweets. Damn. I messed up.

Well, I'm back on the wagon, and surely craving anything that resembles a cookie. The only problem is . . . we always have cookies, and candies, and donuts at work. This is hard. I have substituted corn nuts, dried peas, and a few nuts. It is really not the same.

So . . . that is my world. Restraining myself, working, and getting the kid to Colorguard practice and competitions, and serving on the dang Band Parents Association -- torture of the highest order. Seriously.

Here is the result of many hours and days of practicing . . .

Oh, and we're going to London!!

Been There

Okay, I've been to North Carolina and back. It even snowed on me. Somehow, I thought there would be a lot more kisses involved. Turns out I'm his buddy. Yeah, buddy. There's a prefix on that buddy bit, but I will not dignify the term with a mention here. Let it suffice to say . . . I'm a fool for love. And when there's no love involved, I refuse to be fooled any longer.

I saw a lot of trees, not many with leaves, but lots and lots of trunks and branches. I kept trying to imagine the branches with greenery. I guess it's like imagining my buddy sprouting fresh new signs of life by adding some love. Some things are not meant to be. Some things are meant to be, but you can't get the man to cooperate. Yeah. That's the moving on time.

I should know better. Look for signs of life and love and light BEFORE investing your heart!

Extra Credit

Okay, I'm going for extra credit to make up for my Sunday failure.

Here is the long-awaited Homecoming Dance photo post. Ah to be 16 and that damn happy. So few mistakes have been made. The world is your oyster. (Is that a good thing? I'd rather have the world be my own personal Toys R Us, I think.)

OMG I Failed!

I missed Sunday! I was going for streak of blogging every day in November.

Well, I achieved a personal best of like 3 days in a row. Wowie. Dang. What are the rules? I'll just keep going. I don't really need a prize or anything. What would I do with WordPress help of any kind when I can't even function this Blogger account, really.

I've learned in life that the FREE prize is not really all that great. It is a powerful motivator to get anything for free. I have put out some big effort for even a CHANCE at a prize. I have worked hard or achieved some silly thing just to get a little prize that I don't want.

I guess this kind of wisdom comes with age. And yes, I am pretty damn old . . . on a slippery slide down to 50 next year. I looked at my hands this morning, and they are the hands of an old woman. Of course, it doesn't help that I rarely give them any good moisture. I might try drinking more than 8 ounces of water to hydrate the skin, but NOOOOOOOOO!

Anyhoo . . . all that is to say I'm no prize. I will not win the NaBloPoMo prize. I don't want a prize (other than the Mega Millions winning ticket or perhaps a late entry Prince Charming to spend my old age with). And I'm going to think of some prize to motivate someone.

Oh yeah, $20 to my daughter and her boyfriend was offered this afternoon if they'd rake, mow and sweep our little condo yard. Now, if you raking those damn Sycamore leaves out of every bush and border, it doesn't really seem like a small task, but it is a smallish L-shaped yard.

I'll let you know how they did. They were pretty excited about the offer of money. And that's a prize we all go for, eh?

Memory Triggers

I got stuck on VH1 today, starting with an hour on Freddie Mercury, followed by an hour of Elton John. I skipped most of Pink Floyd and Syd Barrett, but saw some interesting moments. The best part I am saving on TiVo . . . The Amazing Journey of The Who.

I was such a Beatles and Stones girl that I never really got into the history of The Who even though I love them and have seen them twice now (finally! it took until the new millennium!).

Watching old 60s stuff triggered my earliest memories of where I was when I heard certain music. Embedded in my mind is the time my best childhood friend's mother took us for a ride in the dad's baby blue Mustang. It was the coolest car in the neighborhood and she was the mom who was the most fun. The Beatles were on the radio with Come Together. Cool. I guess it was from the 1969 album Abbey Road. What a great song -- so obtuse to an 11-year-old. And riding around in a Mustang, singing along? So. Very.

We were totally into the Beatles, my best friend and me. Of course, we were too young to have our own records, but we would sneak into her sister or brothers collections and play their albums before school. We acted out all the songs and listened to them over and over while we tried to figure out the album covers and liner notes. We would also smoke cigarettes, but that's another story for NaBloPoMo.

When I finally got to buy my first record, it was The Ballad of John and Yoko, which was a single in 1969. I guess The Beatles were about to break up if you hear the name Yoko in the actual title of the song. I remember my second 45 as The Doors' Love Her Madly, but that didn't come out until 1971. Surely there was something in between.

I used to get out my little phonograph and 45s and play them alone in my room. I would save my allowance for trips to Sears where they had a display of the top 25 singles. I remember the cost being 49 cents, but it might have been 99 cents. Around the same time, we used to go see two movies for 49 cents. My folks would give us $1 and we could get in and buy popcorn or candy, too.

I wish I could remember more of the singles I bought. We were pretty poor, so maybe I just didn't have that many, but I remember a small stack. And who could forget putting in the little piece of plastic in the big hole of the 45 rpm records? I think I had a cylinder that would let me stack them, which would drop one at a time. Wow. Good times.

Now back to The Who on VH1.

Friday Yuck

The day that will not end. It's only 2:30 and it feels like 6:00. Maybe I am anticipating the time change. Maybe too much has happened here today. ARGH!!! I'm fed up with this day that drags, and the mail has not even arrived.




I have sent way to many e-mails, rearranged the storage closet, called the building engineers when the kitchen drain backed up. Now I have to pay some bills, and return some parts that were ordered according to spec., but are wrong. The boss left for the day, two other people are out, and I want out myself! At least I have the mail to look forward to.



Okay, I will find you a lovely photo for today that has nothing with office drudgery. How about a nice Puss N Boots playing the clarinet on Halloween. You don't see that everyday!

New Month - All Month

Okay, it is once again National Blog Posting Month (NaBloPoMo). Check the link there to see who thought this up. The challenge of the month is to post every day. I have NEVER attempted this superblogger feat, but I am going to do it . . . no matter how short the entry.

I guess I can enter photos since I have been more actively taking photos and getting them onto the computer. I just looooooove blogs with photos. (Lately, I am thinking I am way too visual.) Of course, the camera is not with me at the moment or I'd have some cool high school homecoming photos of my daughter's pep band performing and her semi-formal outfit for the dance, AND some interesting Halloween shots.

Let's see what I DO have here on this machine . . . okay . . . how 'bout first day of school, senior year, for my 16-year-old? Nice shot of her, I thought.

Carry on. I'll be back tomorrow.

Mute, but not Deaf

Okay, I have no voice. It seems like a cosmic message . . . . "Shut up!"

I have been sick, then sicker, then what-the-heck-is-going-on sick. I had to make a deal with God in the dark of the night when I couldn't stop coughing, it made me throw up a little and pee my pants a lot. Sheesh. I think I had to give up two secret crushes and agree not to have sex for a month -- or some terms like that. Actually, I think I had to clear my mind of all distractions and pray for healing.

The main problem was that I was working, leading a tour of 30-40 people all around So Cal and over to the desert of Las Vegas to visit Hoover Dam. Climbing hills and dealing with desert heat, I had to be "on" when I wanted to be down and out and sleeping in a bed. I was up very early, organizing breakfast, lunch, dinner and drinks on Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday, then rearranging hotel rooming list on Saturday morning. Sheesh.

I hit urgent care once my plane landed at home. I got good drugs which have a whole set of side effects you don't want to know, but I am on the mend.

Maybe now I won't have to learn sign language. Maybe a week later, I'll have my voice back?

Maybe if I turn in my 17 hours of OT, I'll feel better?

It Must Be Me

He was lovely, and just my type -- tall, blond, blue eyes, friendly, casual, talkative. Just my age. Single parent of a teen like me.

We talked, we laughed, we shared. All great, right? Well, he didn't buy my drink. Now, it might seem okay. I got there first, and bought my own glass of wine since I seriously needed one. They were small and expensive, so I needed another one after an hour or so, and ordered it.

"That'll be $9."

He did not reach, he did not offer. He did not intend to pay. I reached for my purse after that painful pause. "Let me see if I have another $9."

You know, it could be that he wrote me off as not his type the second he saw me. I hate that, but it could be true.

His son called his cell phone. Maybe it was a rescue call. Call me at this time, and if I don't like her, I'll have a reason to leave. "Yeah, I have to go. He needs me to make him dinner."

Okay, I have a 16-year-old. She knows how to make soup, Easy Mac, hot dogs, grilled cheese, and a few other items.

Oh well. He was very lovely. I enjoyed the whole hour-and-a-half immensely -- even if I did have to buy my own wine.

Kismet?

I remember hearing this word back in the 60s. I guess people said that like we say Karma. Now, we're not really Hindu and we don't really believe that way, but we DO believe what goes around, comes around. Well, Kismet is some sort of Muslim word for the will of Allah. Okay, now. Erase, erase, erase. I will have nothing to do with that form of religion. I will just look for big blessings. And they come every day, well -- at least small ones. I was thinking of Kismet in a wonderful romantic way of meeting. I'll have to find another word.

In the beginning of what is now the Internet, I used to prowl Love at AOL. This was like in 1994. I met a dozen or so people in person and never had a second date. And, yes, I got a complex.

I have looked on Yahoo Personals for years, and even married one in 1999. YIKES! That's another story for another day. It didn't last long, but it's a long and sad story. I'll tell you about that later.

I met a very lovely, emotionally unavailable, blond-haired, blue-eyed, hunk of a man way back in 2003 on Match.com. It was under miraculous circumstances, and I was sure. He was The One. Coulda been, but he decided I was not The One. He still wants to be buddies if you know what I mean.

After adjusting my brain or getting it around all of that, I met Mr. Wonderful from my high school class reunion. Coulda, shoulda, woulda got very serious. Then I figured out he was actually Mr. Mean Angry Drunk Man Who Must Control All. We can't have that. We really can't. No one should. The cost is too high. With emotional abuse comes the most unhealthy form of destruction. It starts on the inside.

Not to worry. I drew a line and stood my ground, defending my life and rejecting all hate. That is not love and you can't sell me on it. My life was good before I met him, miserable with him, and good again now that he's gone. It sure makes you appreciate those days alone, cleaning your place, watching a movie, and doing any damn thing you please without fear of retribution.

Okay, I've been laying low, working hard, cleaning the house, volunteering, and going to church. I have peeked at Yahoo, Match, and even BBW personals. I have looked a couple times on Craig's List to admire the work of the perverts. On Saturday night, I saw a friendly CL ad which was just my speed. I don't know where I mustered the courage and confidence. I guess it mostly came from my buddy who called me vivacious. After four years as a friend, he called me vivacious. Nice.

On Sunday afternoon, I found a response. This was his only post and he got no local responses, except mine. He doesn't like to e-mail much, so how about we meet to determine chemistry. Well, last time I heard chemistry, it was preceded by the word "no." Or was it fireworks he wanted? Can't quite recall. So, you never know, but I think it's a good match.

Tuesday. Magnolia. I'll let you know. Maybe fate?

P.S. He sent photos and he is adorable.

Too Darn Hot

Okay, yesterday I hid out from the 102 degrees that felt like 104 degrees according to weather.com.

Today, it's 105 in the afternoon and my A/C running full bore can only manage to cool us to 82 degrees. I guess the extra humidity of desert thunderstorms is just too much for us in So. Cal.!

Happy Labor Day. We're heading for the O.C. to visit grandma's house and pray for a few degrees relief.

Self Portrait

Okay, I'm barely in MySpace and I refuse to even look at FaceBook, but my daughter and her friends are all about that stuff. It's a whole network of communication they have going.

They are constantly taking "MySpace Photos" with the weird angles and self-portraits at arm's length reach.

I recently changed my hair to Loreal Medium Golden Brown a la Andie McDowell and all my blonde photos just don't reflect the new ME! So I gave in and manged to snap a few arm's length self-portraits to post in order to lure someone into saying hello to me on Yahoo Personals. Sheesh, what a losing cause.

One snapshot struck a chord. It was a mistake, but I like it.

My Cup Runneth Over

I want it all. Yeah, I'm an extrovert. I like to say gregarious. I get energized by people. My ex-boyfriend tried to slam me recently by saying, "You always want more " (as if it were a bad thing). I guess if you're a cold-hearted, greedy bastard demon from hell you don't want "more."

Anyhoo, I noticed as I poured my coffee this morning, that I never leave room for cream. Or rather, I THINK I leave enough room for cream. Once I get the sugar in there, I can barely stir. The cup is so full. Well . . . let me show you . . .

I have heard people at Starbucks say, "Leave room for cream." I never say that since I think I can just add more and more, and there's plenty of room. I guess stirring is actually the problem. Or if you can't get your coffee the right color . . . verging on taupe.

Well, I just had to share. It's better to leave a little room or ask for a little room. We want it all, but it has to fit in the cup. Am I right? Because wasting coffee is a bad thing and I have actually had to resort to copying some guy I saw in Starbucks . . . spilling coffee into the trash to MAKE room for cream.

And is anyone coveting my Tinkerbell mug from Disneyland? Or perhaps my CaesarStone counters? Red KitchenAid Java Spa?

For now, I will think about my cup runneth over from the 23rd Psalm . . .

4Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.
5Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.
6Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the LORD for ever.

Or in Luke . . .

Give, and it will be given to you. A good measure, pressed down, shaken together
and running over, will be poured into your lap. For with the measure you use, it
will be measured to you." -- Luke 6:8

True Love Again

At last, I have purchased my very own photo printer/ scanner/ copier. I am so excited.

It's a Canon MP810. Consumer Reports rated it tops. I longed for it, researched it, considered three or four other options, watched CNet video reviews, visited printers at Circuit City, then bought it online with free shipping on Amazon. They had the best price $234.99 and stores are not carrying this model -- yet.

I had some money set aside for this since April, but I never got around to taking the plunge. I had been using an old HP970cxi that did okay, but couldn't print 4x6" prints. As you may know, HPs never die, but I wanted more out of photo printing. Sorry HP. We had a good thing, but you just couldn't meet my needs.

Just one question . . . Why does a USB printer cable at Best Buy cost $34.99? And who are these guys, the Geek Squad? I know they fix PCs, but how'd they get in the extremely-unreasonable-mark-up cable business? Dang, I saw one for $10 online, but I needed to print NOW!

Well, you will all be happy to know I successfully installed the cable, along with the cyan, magenta, yellow, black, and OTHER black ink tanks, the software, and the paper. I even found the media card slots. Okay, so I just wanted to print one single 4x6 photo. That seemed to take two hours of trial and error with printer settings. I did a little dance when I got to happen, but I can't print from Picasa. And that, my friends, is bumming me out.

Okay, in every relationship a little rain must fall. I'm still in love with Canon and the photos look AMAZING. Now I have enabled my photo hobby to the point where I never have to leave the house, except for my new ink and photo paper habit. It will surely be an expensive one.

Can You Feel Your Heart Break?

I was watching a program on PBS (gotta love pledge season) and there was a lovely lady doctor. She told a story of how she got divorced, was experiencing the Empty Nest, and had a lot of regular stress, and she started having chest pains. She described it as feeling her heart breaking.

Have you ever felt your heart breaking? Where do your feelings live? I know some attribute them to the heart area, some the gut, some just point to the middle.

One thing I know for sure, no matter who ends a relationship, you still have to go through the grieving process. And it hurts.

Yesterday, I do believe I allowed myself to grieve and felt my heart break a little. It was mostly grief for what could have or should have been. There was grief over thinking that since things ended badly, I should never risk again. Of course, then there is no hope for a future relationship, and that is sad, too. What can you do, but guard
your heart after someone stomps all over it?

I resorted to a little Kelly Clarkson rock 'n' roll rage to soothe my aching heart. Since You Been Gone works well.

Here's the thing, We started out friends
It was cool, but it was all pretend
Yeah, yeah, since you been gone

You're dedicated, you took the time
Wasn't long 'til I called you mine
Yeah, yeah, since you been gone

And all you'd ever hear me say
Is how I picture me with you
That's all you'd ever hear me say

But since you been gone
I can breathe for the first time
I'm so movin' on, yeah yeah
Thanks to you, now I get what I want
Since you been gone

How can I put it, you put me on
I even fell for that stupid love song
Yeah, yeah, since you been gone

How come I'd never hear you say
I just wanna be with you
Guess you never felt that way

But since you been gone
I can breathe for the first time
I'm so movin' on, yeah, yeah
Thanks to you, now I get, I get what I want
Since you been gone

You had your chance, you blew it
Out of sight, out of mind
Shut your mouth, I just can't take it
Again and again and again and again

Since you been gone (since you been gone)
I can breathe for the first time
I'm so movin' on, yeah yeah
Thanks to you (thanks to you)
Now I get, I get what I want

I can breathe for the first time
I'm so movin' on, yeah yeah
Thanks to you (thanks to you)
Now I get (I get)
You should know (you should know)
that I get, I get what I want
Since you been gone
Since you been gone
Since you been gone

Thanks, God

I have spent quite a few nights on the balcony off of my tree house bedroom lately, stopping to contemplate the trees, flowers, birds, lights, and view. It is a special place -- all my own. Well, the dog thinks it's hers, too. I hate to admit that I smoked some cigarettes on the recent vacations away with the EX-boyfriend, and I had some left. (I quit years ago, but still have the craving and love the buzz.) So my first agenda was smoking outside so as not to get odors in the house, but I think I'll keep up the meditation ritual. (Yeah, the pack is gone, and I REFUSE to buy more.)

Every time I stand outside, up as high as the tree branches, I stop to thank God for such a beautiful place. It's like we live in a park with our common areas full of lawns and tall trees and landscaped beds. We are directly across the street from a wilderness park full of trees and trails. It is so awesome to have that open space that will never change. We are also across from a "parkette" the city built last year. It is still so new and beautiful and manicured. The birds love this area, and our neighbor has many hummingbird feeders. So we see hummingbirds, sparrows, finches, doves and lots of small unidentified birdies.

From my balcony, I can see over another condo complex, past a housing tract and small shopping center, across the valley floor to the foothills. When the lights come up, it's magical.

It was surely a miracle that I was able to buy our condo. It's been five years as of Monday that I found the place after a fairly extensive search of what I could afford. Prices were going up $10,000 a month and they really didn't stop until last year. Real estate is a test of my faith, and it's only a mustard seed to start.

I remember feeling so very alone making every decision. I remember seeing awful, tiny places that needed work, and big, ugly places that I couldn't afford. Finally, one listing said Turnkey, Turnkey, Turnkey, and so on. And it was perfect. As I drove more south than I wanted to go away from the hills, I said to myself, "Well, I'd better find this place fast, or I'll run into that hill." At that moment, it hit me. I gasped (big time) when I realized . . . IT'S ON THE HILL. No. Way. Not me. I'll never have a house up on a hill.

I kept driving up past a stop sign, up to the top, and up a bit more. I thought I was on the highest point on the highest hill that there ever was. I saw the lawn and the tall trees and the place. Of course, it's a blur. I tried to remember everything by taking notes in my Palm Pilot. New carpet. New paint. Big Kitchen. Really big bedroom with giant mirrored closet doors. Small second bedroom. Really big garage. Little yard. I couldn't really take it all in. I lingered up in the bedroom jotting my notes.

When we left my agent told me plainly in a monotone voice, "There are no negatives. We need to make an offer today."

"What? Who? Me?"

I was dumbfounded. How on earth do I do that? What do I use for a deposit? Play money? In this rising market, offers were going over the asking price and coming in three at a time, a few days after listed. That's exactly what happened in my case. We offered $2,500 over their asking price (which I found out was about $80,000 more than they paid a couple years earlier). There were two other offers, one was the same as mine. Uh oh.

But how much had they prayed? Yeah, I had prayed and sung worship songs on my way each time we went to see a new place for sale. I had a talk with God, plain and simple. I had done my part. I had given my share, I had sacrificed, I trusted Him. I had done without, I had been persecuted and abused, and not lost faith. I took care of a man and his two boys and went into debt to feed and clothe them. I ended up failing miserably, but I always did my part. And I never lost touch with God. He and I were a team. So making a real estate deal fall into place was no problem.

The seller said she accepted my offer because she liked that I took my time while looking at the place. Maybe she thought I would treasure it. Maybe all the others were rushed or rude. Or she caught the spirit of the thing. In reality, I was just struggling to take all my notes in the crazy little Palm Pilot shorthand language.

I was in escrow before I had the early inheritance that was the true miracle gift from my parents. It all worked out, but the $16,000 to close nearly killed me. During the first year of mortgage parents, I nearly starved my kid, feeding her carbs, carbs, and carbs. We cut out every extra except the satellite TV and cable modem for the PC. We just stayed home. My daughter asked why we couldn't go to the movies like other people. Yeah. I hated to tell her we couldn't even buy meat at the grocery store.

It is better now. God is good. I refinanced twice. Once to lower my payments, and once to remodel the dilapidated kitchen (so depressing!). I just consolidated all my old debt with an equity loan, and believe me, there is still equity. Prices doubled over the course of four years, and I call it "play money" since I didn't really earn it. It's like I've been set free. My daughter goes to the movies a lot. And I just buy whatever we need at the grocery store! Crazy! I know!

So thanks, God. I promise to keep talking to you, and I will meet you on the balcony.

Brunette Now

Longest Days of the Year

Okay, it's June, and I'm a lackluster blogger. (I love you, blog. I promise to do better even if nobody reads this but me!) I love summer. I guess it goes back to being free from the school year and riding bikes and playing Barbies, and actually getting "bored." Yeah. Those were the days.

My angel finished her junior year of high school (wow) and was even selected Woodwinds Captain for her marching band next season. This is huge. She has wanted to be a leader for three solid years. She loves the kids so much. Music and marching band are her life, and she is such a very good shepherd. We will think very good thoughts as they approach her senior year. Just doing the job will cause her to stretch and grow.

Meanwhile, she is taking summer school and going on vacation with her dad's family before Band Camp and Drill Week before Labor Day and Senior Year. (So Many Capitalizations!) So after school ended on Wednesday, we had our "vacation" together. I stayed home and picked her up from her three minimum days, shuttled her here and there to perform at graduation and all, then . . . we went to see THE POLICE perform at Staples Center. Yeah, it's been way too long since they quit touring in 1984. I think I died a little when Sting went solo. And Wednesday night, I came alive hearing Message in a Bottle and Driven to Tears and Can't Stand Losing You. Awesome.

Thursday: We drove up to Pismo Beach. Beautiful. Sunny. Sort of quiet and sleepy little pier surrounded by a bunch of surfers. Being there on weekdays, there were not many people. Being from L.A., this is like a miracle to me . . . to enjoy surf and sand and sites with just a smattering of tourists. I guess since it's not a hip or cool beach, I loved it. I am no longer one bit hip or cool, and I really fit in. There were even a majority of white folks up there. Wha'?! I wished I could stay for a week. We walked the pier, had seafood for dinner, and I watched the sun set over the hills. Yeah.

Friday: Got up for FREE breakfast, complete with Belgian waffle maker with timer designed so that even idiots could pour in the cup o' batter and flip the doohickey. Yum. We packed up the car, and I begged my teenager to walk on the beach. Well, she would walk onto the sand, and near the wet part known as the ocean, but she would not get near it.

I ditched my sandals, rolled up the jeans, and put my feet on wet sand. I wish I could have walked a mile or two, just breathing in the moist ocean air. Alas, we had to move on. This was speed-vacation day two.

More Friday: Drove from Pismo to San Simeon up Highway 1. Wow. It happened so many times -- coming around a turn, over a little hill, we would come upon THE PACIFIC OCEAN. Yeah. I know. If you've seen it, you've seen it. But then you SEE IT with rocks, with cliffs, with Morro Rock, with flocks of pelicans, with little piers, with whitecaps, with a circular bay . . . and so on. I don't know about you, but it takes my breath away. Like this . . .

Yeah, God is good.

It's Almost May!

Wow. I'm not sure what happened to me since February. I might be able to recreate it.

Maybe I never recovered from the holidays. Or maybe I am in the throes of still trying to get along with the "new" boyfriend of eight months. Both are true.

I did get to see Pete Townsend and Roger Daltrey be THE WHO one more time at the Long Beach Arena (sad excuse for a venue with breaking seats covered in some awful shade of turquoise vinyl). Pete is still a genius and was very talkative. We all screamed out "Who Are You?!," "We Won't Get Fooled Again," and "We're All Wasted!" as if it were the same year the albums were released. A touch of Pinball Wizard from Tommy finished out the evening. They still rock.

I also got to see E.C. once again. Check out http://www.whereseric.com to get the latest on the Eric Clapton tour. I took the boyfriend and my daughter. Daughter was transfixed as we were, seeing the oh-so-amazing Slow Hand play along with Derek Trucks on slide. That kid was a phenom. I've never seen or heard slide guitar like that!

Real life brought me to Cabo San Lucas and the fabuloso Tesoro Los Cabos resort. I had never been there before. The town seems to party all night, and I'm just too old for that. I think I'd choose a resort on the coast outside of town next time. We took a boat ride down the coast to Chilleno Bay and it was so delightful. We saw all the big resorts and timeshare condo places. Find one with a BEACH! It is a lovely part of the world -- the land's end tip of Baja. Water's cold, but clear and blue. I have some cool photos on my Google/Picasa web album.

The photo above is me in the shade on Medano Beach, hiding my fair, fair skin from the wicked rays, but enjoying life. I am breathing easier as I refinanced my debt and the money came through while I was in Mexico. I also got my tax return money and I even got paid.

Life may be completely different from now on. I still have to melt or cut all my cards and delete all those account numbers so I'll never never go back again. Credit card debt is gone. It's a trap. I never thought I'd find my way out of that maze.

Matching Car Shots (Self Portrait)

I had to post my "car shot" self portrait since i found that Kerflop and her friend, Loralee, have done the same thing at one point. You get more degrees of difficulty if you take a digital photo while driving, mind you.

Okay, I was driving to my 30th (YES 30TH!!!) high school reunion. I'm an old dog, but still learning new tricks. Wait, not tricks exactly. Anyhoo . . .

You can imagine the nerves and trepidation, getting ready for the 3rd deci-annual gathering of Vaqueros. I think I even re-blonded my hair for the occasion, and of course wore too much makeup as usual.

I wanted a self-portrait photo to give me a true impression of the hair and makeup since my rear view mirror is absolutely not to be trusted. My visor mirror, complete with lights, has managed to detach itself halfway from my visor. It vibrates somethin' awful. Mind you, 48-yr-old wrinkles look a tad better if the mirror wiggles, but I wanted the true picture.

Here I am. (No, I did not notice at the time that my car is golden beige, my hair is beige, my skin is beige AND my tank top was beige. Geez.)

Fortunately, I had a fabulous aloha shirt to throw on since it was a luau themed reunion. Yes, there were hula dancers and a fire dancer and Elvis managed to attend from beyond the grave. (Wait, I passed Elvis on the way and he drives a PT Cruiser. Can you believe that one? I was thinking Lincoln Towncar for the King!)

Well, this is all ancient history by now. Take a gander. Count the wrinkles.

Love at Last!

Yup! It has arrived. My true love gave me a KitchenAid mixer for Christmas. Let the baking begin. Of course, I have illusions of loaves of fresh-baked bread and all the cookies we can eat.

I am going to find a home in the new kitchen for this beauty as soon as I feel better. Yeah, that's the ticket.

At least we don't have to hold the hand mixer over a bowl anymore! Yup!

Wing Tips?

Black wing tip shoes. Are these cool? I saw two pairs in my trips in the elevator so far today: one very young, hip guy, and one very old guy.

If you're in the mood to get ME some shoes. Here are my new favorites on zappos.com. They are Clarks so they MUST be comfy. Size 9 please. I promise to wear them out until I wear them out.

Why do birds suddenly appear . . .

I cannot tell you how much I love my new camera. It scared me a bit at first, having to learn all the buttons and setttings, and not having a viewfinder. For a day or so, I kept holding the little display screen up to my nose, only to realize that *duh* . . . there is no viewfinder! Here are my best results using the macro setting for flowers and such.

Trade Winds

I think we all need some Trade Winds now and then.

I spent a delightful week on the island of Kaua'i, the Garden Island, at the end of July. (Click to see my landscape photos, taken with my new camera!) It is a magical place which would be unbearably hot and humid, except for the delightful breezes that are always blowing called the Trade Winds.

From the trusty Wikepedia listing . . . "The trade winds are a pattern of wind found in bands around the Earth's equatorial region." Wow. Who knew? I just know I loved them.

Here is evidence of the beauty of trade winds on my walk to the Grand Hyatt Kauai Resort (near Poipu). If you ever get a chance to blow a few thousand dollars on a resort, this looks like the place to do it. We rented a very reasonable house down the path a bit. I highly recommend www.granthamresorts.com as very lovely booking agents with some amazing properties. I also recommend Poipu as a beautiful resort area, with lots of properties to choose from. This is the sunny side of a very wet island with some great beaches.

Now, I'm a sucker for blue skies, green grass and plam trees in general, but isn't this just beauteous? It makes me feel good just to look at the blues and greens here.

22

"22"

That's all I heard.

Wait! I was 22 out of 25!

I can't believe the phone even rang. I have called KLOS (95.5 on your FM dial in L.A.) for YEARS! And I don't believe I have ever heard it ring. At first, I thought I dialed the wrong number! Of course, you shouldn't be dialing the cell phone in the car as you're driving on the 210 Freeway anyhoo.

But it rang. So I let it ring.

"22"

Dang. I wanted those Jeff Beck at the Greek tickets, but . . . WOW! I was 22 out of 25.

Yippee.

Open the Pod Bay Doors, HAL

Hi. My name's Geri, and I'm a Netflix addict.

I am betting I can run home right now, check my mailbox, and find "Proof" and "The Prize Winner of Defiance, Ohio." I'll be looking for those red envelopes. Be there, be there, be there. I will slide my finger along the perforations, pull out the disk . . . ahhhhh. That's it. Almost sends a little shiver down my spine . . . almost.

I'm a single, working mom with a mortgage. I brown bag my lunch every day at work. I have eliminated almost every extravagant expense possible from my budget, including coffee from Starbucks or the Coffee Bean. However, I will not give up my NetFlix or TiVo subscriptions. (Okay, I also have DirecTV and Verizon.net - - - equally cheap forms of entertainment.) I know, it's a sickness.

I was raised on TV and have been using the internet since CompuServe in the 80s. I sit in front of a computer all day. The first thing I do in the morning is turn on the news for the weather and traffic. I almost believe I am addicted to the frequency of the screen refresh. Anyone heard of this theory? Does your brain sync up with the TV output? Or what?

Must. Do. Research.

Maybe HAL-9000 can help . . . "Open the pod bay doors, HAL."

I love summer so much. This weekend felt like 100 degrees both days and we got a little foretaste of summer. Of course, I hid inside with the air conditioning on for the first time this year, trying to recover from the short week of work and a long week on the freeways.

Dang! Just when the SCE and So Cal Gas bills had equalized at around $35 each! We all paid big gas bills during this past "cold" winter. (Can someone please explain the oil and gas markets to me in English?!) Now we will all collectively start cranking up the A/C units for big summer electric bills. Thanks to my friends at SCE, I saved about $150 last summer with their Summer Discount Plan. You should all sign up!

Today I read a post on Wil Wheaton's WWdN in Exile about his summertime memories. I thought I was too much older than him to have such similar memories. What he wrote totally grabbed me with the sights, sounds, smells of summertime as a kid. I tried to comment there unsuccessfully, and so I will related to it here. My favorite part of what he wrote was:

The barefoot dash across the parking lot, stopping at least once on the white painted lines, before making it into the cool Thrifty drug store, where ten cent scoops of double chocolate malted crunch awaited. The cool linoleum and slightly dry-but-cool air conditioned air inside is as much a part of summer as swimming and staying up late on weeknights.

Wow. Thanks for the memories, Wil. You cracked me up with that description of pausing on the parking lot lines while crossing it with bare feet. The lines have to be at least ten degrees cooler than the asphalt, and we always did that, too. I was right there in the parking lot with you! I could see the white lines and feel the burn on the bottom of my feet, and then imagine balancing on the thick white paint on top of paint. I think in my version, there are a few shopping carts scattered around, not very many cars, and I am about 40 feet away from the front door. I have the my entire weekly allowance in my hand (25 cents), and I have a lead on whoever is following me on this ice cream cone quest.

I totally remember ice cream cones from Thrifty. It's mind boggling to think about scoops being only 10-cents! The one thing I hated at Thrify was that cylindrical ice cream injection device they had. Did they have those at your Thrifty store? I somehow felt cheated. I guess I thought I'd get a bigger portion when it was scooped like at SavOn or Baskin Robbins.

Summertime -- how can you love any season more? I think the best parts were the freedom of running around unsupervised on bikes, riding skateboards, playing "Three Flies Up," and drinking out of the hose with my brothers and the neighbor kids.

Eveyone had a bike. The bike WAS the means to freedom. And of course we had cards in the spokes. Held by clothespins, right? How many kids today even know what clothespins are for! I can remember a crazy clothesline outdoors before we had a dryer. I think my Grandma's clothesline lasted well into the 70s before they got a dryer on the farm.

We visited Ohio every summer. My grandfather grew corn, wheat, alfalfa and lots of soybeans. Now in the 70s, I didn't even understand what soybeans were. What were they doing? Exporting? I remember my grandfather's farm smelling like alfalfa - sort of a special sweet grassy smell. We were lucky to run around, chase cats and dogs and rabbits, and the occasional pig that got loose. How funny was that to see my big ol' grandmother running after a pig heading down the road, yelling, "Sooooooo-eeeeeee! Pig, pig, pig!" Funny.

My favorite part was the lightning bugs. I guess because we don't have them here. Actually in Orange County, there were very few cool bugs. Lightning bugs hovered over the grass, over the corn and over the alfalfa. I can see it. We ran around like crazies, catching them, putting them in a jar, and even squishing them on our ring finger for a glowing diamond ring (gross!). But I digress.

As an adult, I see the beauty of Spring as all the trees and flowers come to life and bloom. I have come to enjoy the trees changing colors in the Fall. I even have learned to appreciate snuggling up with a down blanket on a December night in Winter. But it must be the kid in me that wants to hold on to all those summertime freedoms and adventures. If I could just go back for a day.

Teach Your Children

Spin or no spin, there is still a body count.

I like to watch "This Week" on ABC. In spite of leaning left, I think they present a balanced panel discussion and the show has a really good spirit. (Especially check out the segment called Voices.)

Every Sunday, George Stephanopoulos stops to list the name of each and every soldier who died this week in Iraq, along with their rank, age, and hometown. It breaks my heart.

Imagine the untold number of Iraqis and other casualties. Imagine a list with all of their names and ages. What if their age was measured only in months? I heard a report from a soldier returning from Iraq that they sometimes go into homes and kill families in the name of battling the insurgents. Does anyone remember Viet Nam? It's the same. But then, we could see the similarity coming from miles away.

We are in the middle of someone else's civil/religious war at this point. I vote we take the BILLIONS of dollars spent in Iraq, and invest in our children's education -- so that they might be so enlightened enough by our history that we never go to war again.

May Day

It was my birthday on Monday. Same old, same old, single mom situation . . . no cake, no gifts, no party, no how. No one at work said anything, but they are GUYS. The only other female in the office was on vacation.

I saw my mom on Mother's Day the day before -- so she didn't call. I had one call from a friend up north, and one call from a friend down here (both are married), and my buddy, the IT Guy, gave me a happy birthday hug. Nice. I guilted my daughter into drawing me a picture which turned out to be a lovely undersea scene. Very nice - except that it took extortion to get her to do that.

I took myself and the kid to Brazilian BBQ to attempt celebrating. Okay, let me just say that the Brazilian national drink called Calpirinha was very strong and tasty and made a great adjustment in my attitude.

All day, I knew I was being grouchy. I am trying to count my blessings: health, home, job, car, etc., but I couldn't shake the feeling that I just wanted an empty hole filled in my life. I think I am surrounded by ungrateful, unappreciative people. And I think I must have created this situation. I need to BE more grateful and appreciative. I have to flip this situation somehow to be who I need to be, change what I need to change, and surround myself with some good people. Okay, I'll work on it.

I am posting my photo with my chubby cheeks and my big grin so you can see what a 48-year-old single mom looks like. And if you know a 50-something single dad who needs to fill an empty hole in his life - please let me know.

Am I late for the party?

I just bought my first Led Zeppelin C.D. Just have to tell you I am freaking out on that notion. What took me so long? They are one of my favorite bands from the 70s. I have many of their tunes memorized - including some free-form guitar solos by Mr. Page, Guitar God.

The winner I selected is somehow called Zoso. I call it "Guy Carrying Sticks." I think the band called it "Led Zeppelin IV." The kids on Amazon.com were raving over this one as the best, most classic, all-hits Zeppelin album. I looked over the song list and totally agreed. This would give me the most bang for my CD bucks. Anyone out there voting with us that this as best Led Zep ever?

Now, you may think that buying this as my first Zeppelin C.D. is just a technicality. I know what you're thinking. She actually has all their old albums on vinyl. Nope. My boyfriend in high school had them all. I can remember him buying "Presence" the day it came it out. We took it to a party that night and everyone oooohed and ahhhhed as we played it for the first time back in 1976. This was the same boyfriend who would put on a Led Zeppelin disk every time we got intimate. No wonder I get all warm and tingly whenever I hear Robert Plant's voice!

A few years ago, a friend of mine gave me her cassette tapes of Led Zeppelin. My car still had a cassette deck and I was grateful, but that car didn't last much longer. Ah, to have C.D.s in the car -- a God-given right here in America, don't you think?

Of course, I can still hear Led Zeppelin for free on KLOS 95.5 (the only classic rock station remaining in L.A. thanks to JACK), especially when Gary Moore plays the block of Zeppelin called "Get the Led Out" as I drive home on the freeway at 7:00 p.m. Thanks, Gary. Love ya.

A few years ago, my daughter was convinced that every time she got in the car, KLOS would play a Zeppelin tune. Kids are so cute when they still believe in magic. The magic fades once they figure out that money is a necessity and school is a job, and you're only going to school for so long so you can get a real job. Yeah, there goes the magic.

Oh well, a milestone day. Gotta go get in the car. It's Friday. And Gary Moore has the set all picked out!

Almost Brave

I never seem to meet anyone in real life. I work in a small office. I am a single mom, running around just to keep the two of us fed and clean. (Whew! That takes some doing.) Then on Sundays, I go to a mega church (more than 10,000 people). Not much room for chance encounters.

I did have a fleeting moment at church last Sunday, though. You know, I always have my eyes open. I try to be aware. I certainly am always looking.

After an empowering sermon on Daring to Take Risks (that must be what caused this fleeting moment of delusion), I followed a very cute, just-my-age, just-my-type guy out of church on Sunday. I almost asked him to go to coffee. It went like this . . .

Gee, he's cute. Gee, he's my age. Wow, it looks like he's alone. It looks like he's alone, and he's heading out the back door toward the Starbucks. Wait, is he with that woman? No, he veered left away from her. He is alone!

Gee, I'd like to just go up and ask him to coffee. I'm gonna be brave. I'm going to tap him on the shoulder. I'm going right up to him, and I'm going to ask him, "Would you like to get some coffee?"

I am. I'm gonna do it. Wait. I don't do this sort of thing. I need to be a more brave than I've ever been before. (Is he with her? No.)

Surely God put him right in front of me for this reason. It's fate and destiny and a miracle all rolled up in a ball.

I'm gonna do it. I'm gonna do it. (Think "Little Train That Could.") I think I can. I think I can. I will!

Wait, he is veering right and rejoining that woman. No! Can't be! Dang, he is with that ugly, slightly older woman.

Abort. Abort. Abort mission.

The End

Psychological Visibility

Wow. I ran across some articles by a Dr. Kenner from the Northeast somewhere with a radio show. Turns out she is an Ayn Rand disciple and a rational atheist. I can't go there, but i am fascinated by her idea of psychological visibility. And hey! I think I know this guy!

Contrast this with an unhealthy sexual desire which comes from a different source. If a man has made himself into a con-artist, then he may desire a woman of good character to con himself. He may want her to help him fake that he is better than he is. His erotic feelings may translate into "let's see if I can make her worship me and see how great I am." He has to engage in double delusion -- deluding her about his true nature and deluding himself, faking a self-esteem he has not earned. He's dishonest and manipulative; he has no good virtues to celebrate. In his case, "sexual desire" is the desire to fake to himself and to his partner that he is better than he is. It does not stem from an accurate evaluation of his character. He's trying to rig the psychological mirror to make himself look better than he is.

Toenail Trends

Do you agree that peer pressure has caused ladies everywhere to have perfect, pedicured, painted and polished toenails? Now, I understand the desire for pampering if you can afford it, but I would like to know:

• Does anyone remember the days before everyone was pedicure crazy?
• Why are regular, naked toes now unacceptable? Can we reverse the trend?
• Who started this trend? The one and only Sally Hansen? (Has anyone every actually seen Sally Hansen?)

Everyone's doing it.

I went to a dinner in Las Vegas that was part of a tour I coordinated. I had managed to arrange the invitation, a virtual tour e-mail, the airline tickets, the hotels, the van, the bus, the video, the guides at our tour stops, the beverages, the meals, and the five-star restaurant with fixed menu. I even picked the wines. I had checked everyone in, got to my room, thrown myself into the shower, and managed to throw on a decent outfit complete with matching shoes and jewelry. I think I was even ALMOST on time.

When I got there, I smiled and grabbed a drink, and looked down at all the ladies' toes peeking out of their sandals. They all had perfect painted toenails. Pink and red -- every one of them. Mine were bare. Argh, the humiliation. PEER PRESSURE. It felt like nothing else counted except for my hideously plain toenails. (I did practice my favorite mental health technique of thought stopping and got over it with another drink and some food and wine.)

But back to the peer pressure of painted toenails. You know, even my not-so-stylish mom is doing it. She is 71, and she always seems to have the perfect pedicure. My theory is that single girls and retired people have more TIME for this! I am a single, working mom and I barely keep us clean and fed - if you know what I mean -- and I think you do!

Wait. Am I a hypocrite? I do manage to keep a hair appointment every six weeks, but only in order to cover the grey and be more blonde. Maybe my head is more of a priority than my feet. Hmmm. I am head-centric. AND I can cover my feet, but I can't cover my head. Or can I?

When I do manage to get my toenails painted, I let that damn polish stay on for at least two months until it is so sad looking that I finally break out the acetone. Then, bare toes with that awful yellowish tinge from where the old polish influenced the nails -- yuck. It's worse then before I started!

I have solved the problem lately with closed toe shoes, but spring and summer are coming. Do I submit to peer pressure? Or buck the trend and try to start a new one with beautiful buff bare naked toes? That's it! I'll promote NAKED TOES as if they're naughty!

Naughty naked toes need nothing to cover them when you're a nymphomaniac. Ooooooo, naughty. Yeah, next thing you know . . . people will start piercing them!

And the Cupcake Made All the Difference

Over in the Superior Court jury assembly room today, I was in a near coma state due to boredom. I was finally reading the book that came loaded on my Palm Pilot and waiting to be called for a jury. They had just showed us the everything-you-always-wanted-to-know-about-serving-on-a-jury-but-were-afraid-to-ask VIDEO! I was extremely psyched up after that bit of patriotic hoo ha.

Yeah, and I was totally into being a Juror. I had filled out their questionnaire forms with my extremely precise bubble-filling skills. I sort of admired my official badge way too much, along with my parking hang tag (with in and out privileges, mind you) and the thrilling possibility of getting 34 cents per mile mileage, one way. It was all so glamorous. I was hoping a juicy case might snatch me up and keep me away from work for some extended period of time -- like a year.

We had successfully shamed a girl who was using extremely bad cell phone etiquette (very loud, too many inside jokes, cryptic responses to unheard questions, and goofy giggles). I periodically gave her the evil eye when she got louder than her baseline. Then, the coordinator came over the loudspeaker to ask anyone using their cell phone to go to the front of the room -- for better reception and to be courteous since some people were trying to read! Yeah! Like me! Excellent move BTW by whoever got up and complained! I now gave Cell Phone Girl the continuous evil eye until she hung up. Ah, the drama of the jury assembly room.

I was convinced that I was on the verge of being called as Group 1, Juror 1, Seat 1, and Bailiff's Pet. Surely I would be voted Jury Foreperson during deliberations (if I chose to accept the nomination). Alternately, I could sit back and make smart-ass remarks the whole time (like I like) in order to make my fellow jurors laugh. Any minute now . . . the adventure will begin. It's gonna be great. Which will it be? Foreperson or Smart Ass?

I went back to my Palm Reader book. Just as I was nodding off, the coordinator dismissed us saying, "All new jurors today are dismissed. Your duty is fulfilled for the year."

Wow.

All that, and we are dismissed? I got up early for this?

That's okay. I'm over it. I'm free.

I briefly thought about heading to work, but I'd had a migraine on Monday and it has stuck with me. I could call in sick for the rest of the day. Then I remembered. I wasn't going anywere -- very fast. I had a skinny spare.

I had a TIRE BLOWOUT on the 10 Freeway last night during "rush" hour. ARGH. I heard a funny noise that did NOT come from my deluxe remastered Eric Clapton C.D. Then I felt it. Thud, thud, thud, thud, ta da thud, thud, thud. Dang tire went flat fast.

It was so hard to steer and there was ZERO emergency lane so I forced that car to go as far as a flat would take it. I could see the offramp. I could see the Arco AM/PM mini-mart. I can make it. I can make it. Okay, I am not gonna make it. Surely, I am ruining the rim with all of this thud-thudding.

Finally, there was a little widening in the shoulder - almost the width of a car. So I pulled over and called AAA. Service Call Lady promised to put a rush on my request. Darn if they didn't have a flatbed tow truck there in 8 minutes! This has to be a new world record at least for the greater Los Angeles area. The driver asked if I was the brown Dodge that called AAA. That explains the speediness. I was a gold Saturn, and he was coming to help someone else! (I think God was just watching out for me in a very bad situation.)

I climbed up into his truck which was at least ten feet up off the ground. (Yeah, I'm so glad I wore the five-inch heels today and the Tiffany blue silk pants.) He had to load my car up onto the flatbed. There was just no safe way to change a tire -- and live to tell about it. At least he was a pro. We drove to the AM/PM to pull off the offending front driver-side tire to switch to my teeny tiny spare.

The guy told me that if it was raining, I'd have been hit for sure. He said he sees people who break down on that stretch of freeway getting hit all the time. Ah, perfect. See? God WAS watching out for me. And now I don't feel so stupid for forcing the car to a safe place. He did his tire changing magic with his fabulous jack and spinning tire-iron maneuvers, and told me to "cruise in the slow lane" since the spare has twice the pressure as a regular tire. Ahhhh, that explains why they never want you speeding around with the tiny spare.

All this is to say . . . after jury duty, I drove to my favorite store in case of emergency . . . Just Tires. I have researched this, and they have the cheapest tires and labor around. And if it is just tires you get, they SAY they promise them in 30 minutes. This was not a budgeted item, so I was really whining and lamenting this big expense. Since I have had an major alignment problem for . . . like FOREVER, all my tires were fairly thrashed. Four new tires and a major alignment job later, all is now well on the tire front.

Did you like that extended story? I'm betting you SKIMMED it.

I am home now and have celebrated the day with a Frapuccino and a Vanilla Sunshine Cupcake from Starbucks. Yummy!

We Need an Occasion

I have been trying to recover from remodeling my kitchen for several weeks, now.

Yes, you can thank me for sparing you the hideous details of every goof and blunder and delay and frustration of three months without a sink or stove. (You're welcome!) I thought about taking photos and sharing my pain. I will sum it all up by saying . . . if you are considering a major remodel, first consider moving. I know that next real estate purchase will be painful, but remodeling is guaranteed to be more painful. 'Nuff said.

So today I put my china and crystal in my new cabinets, and I need a special occasion. I realized that the replacement cost of all of my fru-fru eating and drinking aids is approaching the cost of my first car, and we never even use them.

I sometimes splurge and have some nice wine in the goblets. Then, I wait days to do the handwashing required to get it clean. I managed to break one white wine glass on my own (Lesson: Don't drink too much wine, or don't set it on your nightstand where you might knock it off!). Last year, I had a guest knock a red goblet into the sink and break it. Oh, well.

So is it better to save these items forever, unused and in perfect condition? Or should we dive in, celebrate life, and suffer the consequences? Yeah, we should all choose to celebrate life. Next time, I'll save the pieces when something breaks. I have registered my patterns on lenox.com and they will replace items for half price.

So I need a special occasion soon, or I might consider selling all this stuff on ebay!

Okay, here is a peak into my new kitchen. Come on over, and we can celebrate. I'll get out the china and crystal!

Dreaming of Poipu

Okay, as we brave the cold winds of winter . . . I want to dream of July and a sharing a vacation house on the island of Kauai at Poipu Beach. They tell me it is between Shipwreck Beach and Brennecke's Beach. I'm ready for three beaches.

We are going to have a blast. I get to hang out with daughter and my twin niece and nephew, along with my brother, his wife, and my parents. At least there are three bathrooms and four bedrooms so I think we will have plenty of space. My only problem now is that I'll have to wear a bathing suit at some point to enjoy the warm Pacific waters. Time to stop eating cookies, I suppose.

Also have to face a big high school reunion in August. Hmm, maybe I should actually attempt exercising? Scary.

I Try to Appear Middle of the Road

I just want to rejoice a bit as a liberal. Yes, my heart bleeds for the defenseless. Sadly, I am surrounded by conservative Republicans and their version of "life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness." It just seems that money is the thing that makes them happy.

I try to tolerate all viewpoints, to keep my trap shut, and to appear "middle of the road." (What road? How did I get here? Where does that highway lead?)

It comes down to this . . . I have a core value system that comes from treating others how I would like to be treated. And I take very much to heart the verse where it is written, "I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me."

I came to work after voting "NO!" on everything here in California on Tuesday, and my Republican cohorts all said they voted YES on something. I swallowed whatever words I considered wasting on them, and waited. I waited for the rest of California to vote with me. YAY! All eight propositions voted down.

I got two e-mails this morning from Sen. John Kerry and John Adams, of NRDC, related to the successful ripping out of the budget any provisions for drilling in the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge. As John Kerry put it . . .

This victory is testimony to your hard work and the President's slumping political standing that he can no longer force the Republican Party to grudgingly support a blatant special interest giveaway that
vast majorities of Americans oppose.

John Adams told the story of how it happened . . .

Late last night, after months of intense pressure from millions of pro-environment activists like you, the House leadership dropped its plan to allow oil drilling in the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge as part of the budget bill.

In the end, they were forced to retreat after some 22 courageous Republican congressmen stood their ground and promised to vote against their own party's budget if it sacrificed America's
greatest wildlife refuge. With every single Democrat also opposing the budget, the leadership blinked.

It was the kind of showdown at high noon that restores one's faith both in democracy and the sanctity of America's natural heritage.

Now let's all get out our calendars, and make an appointment to meet in Alaska to appreciate the wildlife refuge. One of these days, I want to see the 49th State. Let's just meet there in August -- less snow, you know.

Some Wisdom

Maya Angelou said this after turning 70:

• I've learned that no matter what happens or how bad it seems today, life does go on, and it will be better tomorrow.
• I've learned that you can tell a lot about a person by the way they handle these three things: a rainy day, lost luggage, and tangled Christmas tree lights.
• I've learned that regardless of your relationship with your parents, you'll miss them when they're gone from your life.
• I've learned that making a "living" is not the same thing as "making a life.”
• I've learned that life sometimes gives you a second chance.
• I've learned that you shouldn't go through life with a catcher's mitt on both hands; you need to be able to throw some things back.
• I've learned that when ever I decide something with an open heart, I usually make the right decision.
• I've learned that even when I have pains, I don't have to be one.
• I've learned that every day you should reach out and touch someone. People love a warm hug, or just a friendly pat on the back.
• I've learned that I still have a lot to learn.
• I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.

I hope I’ve made you laugh more than I’ve irritated you. And I hope I’ve added some peace and joy to your life. I’ve probably tried to encourage you, but I’m sure it seemed like nagging. I’ve tried to walk my talk, but I’m sure I’ve failed. I’m sure I don’t deserve a second chance, but I’m still hoping that one day, you’ll give it to me.

Out Came the Sun and Dried up All the Rain

I survived the teenage pizza party this weekend . . . barely. After seeing The Eagles at The Pond on Friday night, we were showing few signs of life at 6:15 a.m. on Saturday morning when the first friend called to say she was coming over!?! I was “flat out” (like a lizard drinking, as my brother would say Down Under) since we got home at 12:30 a.m., and I was awake until at least 2:00 a.m. Then I was full-on slammed with birthday party preparation and doings, and took the last friend home at 11:00 p.m., then up until 2:30 a.m. decompressing. But let us pause for a review of . . . The Eagles! OMG!

Glenn Frey and Don Henley are now mellow geniuses (in their 50s right?), playing their songs with Joe Walsh and Timothy Schmidt with and an entire band backing them. So how great is the drummer who backs up Don Henley on his songs? And how much must they pay Stuart Smith to play every single note of every solo of all those Eagles/Walsh/Henley tunes? The drummer was young, amazing and great. Smith was supernatural. His fingers flew over the fret board as if he sold his soul to the devil that day.

There's something about soaring high with The Eagles music that touches your soul with truth. Maybe it was reliving the 70s, maybe it was the way they navigated the 80s, but these songs and those chords just ring true when turned up to a volume to fill an area with a video system that must cost millions of dollars. Wowzer. We laughed as Frey said he usually dedicates Lyin' Eyes to his first wife (Plaintiff), we sang (most perfect crowd singalong -- Take IT to the Limit), we danced ('Cause all she wants to do is dance!), we screamed for two encores (they made us beg for their Hotel California anthem), and we almost cried with the last notes of the last song . . .

Desperado, why don't you come to your senses?
Come down from your fences, open the gate.
It may be rainin', but there's a rainbow above you.
You better let somebody love you -- let somebody love you
You better let somebody love you . . . before it's toooo-oo-ooo-ooo la-ate!

Wow. So true. I'll have to mention that to the next Desperado I meet -- like for dinner -- tonight.

We had a wicked thunderstorm on Monday night -- Courtney’s birthday. It has never rained on September 19th since she’s been alive. I can’t remember a lot of September rain in So. Cal. Really. I drove home from work with no clue a storm was coming. The first thing I saw was a giant bank of pink clouds in the East, turning all shades of peach and purple and gray as the sun went down. And then . . . a rainbow. It was so weird to see the rainbow first, after months without rain. This rainbow had almost no arc. It was straight down from heaven, and I was sure the pot of gold was at my house! It was. Then, I saw lightning. What? So my brilliant mind deduced . . .

Rainbow + Clouds + Lightning = Rain

Hey! Maybe it’s going to rain? I made it home, found dinner, and watched the heavens open up with a downpour. I started having flashbacks to last October, the beginning of the wettest season here in about 100 years. Are we getting a head start this year? Courtney was marching with the band and colorguard at school with her wool uniform and clarinet, making a video to enter the L.A. Co. Fair. Then, they want to videotape the Fair parade to submit to Disneyland to enter a parade there.

The phone rings . . . Courtney on her cell . . . Mommy! I’m all wet. My clarinet is wet! I don’t know what to do. I’ll come get you. And I’ve got your birthday presents . . . Yippee!

Well, I survived the The Teenage Pizza Party, The Appraisal on my House (I skipped that part Monday morning), A Rainbow, A Thunderstorm, and the most wicked lightning all night into the early morning (with a crazy person outside, yelling at God at 3:30 a.m.!) Then, more rain Tuesday.

Today we have the end of Itsy Bitsy Spider . . . Out came the sun and dried up all the rain. It’s 55 degrees, beautiful, green, glowing, dewy, and clean.

To wrap things up . . . I been out riding fences for so long now. Found the rainbow. Better let somebody love me.

You, too.

My Baby is Turning 14

And she's 5'9" tall. I never imagined such a tall kid. (This photo is from last August, so she's even taller now.)

I never imagined such a sweet kid. We get along so well -- or we have for years now. Teen life is hard (for mom).

She seems to have a very old soul -- so gentle and kind and knowing.

She is a helper and never says no, but I don't ask for much.

She is a musical genius . . . she just HEARS things I've never heard in all kinds of music. She can play clarinet, sax, guitar, piano and a bit of flute. Wow.

She has surrounded herself with good friends and sensible choices. We have avoided the boy crazy streak, I think. Of course, these things are kept secret from Mom. Duh!

She will be a friend, long after I'm done trying to parent her. And there have been moments, when I swear she has "parented" me. Well, maybe it's more like empathy and encouragement. Very sweet.

She is smart in ways that you don't even think about, with intuition and a psychic sensitivity. I never really knew a Virgo this well before.

So, on Monday, my little angel will be 14. God keep her safe, and strong, and on the right path. God help me discern all those moments when I should help, and when I should stand back.

Right now, I stand back to appreciate her . . . since I am embarking on a weekend of celebration, sacrificing time, money, and good sense. A pizza party for 15 teenagers? Most of them are 15 or 16. Scary.

Send Help Now!!!

How many of you have cried out with me . . . "Send help now!"?

I started to pray for the people I have seen on TV flooded out and dying a slow death at the New Orleans Superdome. "Please God, send them help . . . NOW!" I think I yelled so loud that he might have heard me without the omnipresent and omnipotent superpowers.

My dog, Miss Wishbone, was in the car at the time, and she must have wondered what she did wrong. But then, she's used to my ways. Last time she heard me yell that loud was when I heard on the news that Christopher Reeve's wife, Dana, was diagnosed with breast cancer. NO!!!

Now I watch the news, mesmerized by the poorest of the poor waiting for help. What a crime. This should not be happening anywhere in our country, known as the superpower of the world. Today was the first time I heard George W. Bush admit failure. God help him send a literal army of helicopters and Hummers or whatever it takes to get those people fed, hydrated, cool, and medicated if need be. I am still shaking my head, thinking about the hundreds of millions of dollars spent in Iraq. If we weren't drowning in all that debt, maybe we would have more immediate resources for our own people -- dead and alive -- on the Gulf Coast.

If you haven't prayed yet, please stop for a minute and cry out to your personal higher power -- the Creator of the Universe -- Jehovah Jireh . . . "Send help now!"

Cause I'm a Wanderer

I met two people today who don't believe in God. Kevin could not believe in anything so silly as the supernatural. Peter was agnostic with no hopes or dreams . . . and no money.

No wonder he was hopeless. It was so dark, and no way out. He called it a "bad mood."

And what hurt the first guy so badly that he could no longer believe?

Well, I wander through life thinking nothing is impossible. Okay, lots of things are improbable, but nothing is impossible with God.

Ever the idealist, my illusions are quite often shattered . . . but can you imagine not even TRYING?!? That is a very dark place. I guess I've been there, and I will not go back to that dark place. I know the guy in charge there. We are not simpatico.

Time to wander around, wander over, wander through, and wander home.

Ever Sardonic

Okay, I think I just discovered the term for my sense of humor – sardonic. I ran across this revelation in an e-mail I got from my local bookstore.

They were advertising a book reading (and signing) by David Sedaris, who was described as wildly funny with a magnetic wit, and ever-sardonic. Hmmm. Sounds like someone I’d like to hear, and the signing even fits in my schedule. I Googled Mr. Ever Sardonic and found a website full of his essays. I have heard his “Santaland Diaries” on American Life with Ira Glass. Now that is funny!

Now, I’ve been called sarcastic on more than one occasion. (Like that’s a bad thing? Just go WITH it. Don’t fight it. Swim in the beauty of sarcasm. It’s an art really.) But sardonic? What is it? I needed to explore this sardonic concept. It might be me! At long last, a word for the art I practice. You know, I’ve been looking for “me” for some time, now, and I need some better words to describe myself.

Sardonic is ironic, tongue-in-cheek, wry, irreverent, sarcastic humor. From where I sit, that’s the rosy side of things. I love those parts. If you’ve ever seen Saturday Night Live or The Daily Show, then you know what I mean. It just has to be irreverent. And irony rules! The downside of sardonic is for those sensitive types who don’t get it. To them, it is derisive, cynical, cutting, and scornful mocking. Ouch. Here’s the irony of this situation. How can you be cutting, callous and heartless when you have a big heart and a sensitive side?

I guess I just go for the joke, and let the chips fall where they may. That way, all of us who roll with it and get it will have LAUGHED. And to me, this is the best part of life -- laughter. It fuels my soul. It distracts me from my crisis du jour. It lightens the moment and the day, and raises my spirits. Studies have proven that laughter can create a body chemistry that fights depression and disease. And if I can make you laugh, I am twice blessed.

So roll with it. Learn to love the irreverent -- or at least to tolerate me. I'll be laughing.

Memorize This

Best massage ever. It was outdoors! That makes all the difference, being outside on the porch of my cabin next to a full flowing stream with birds chirping. “Would you like lavender-scented oil? Is that okay?” Oh, yes. Of course it doesn’t make any difference to me with no sense of smell for the past 30 years, but I liked the way it sounded. Now the hardest part was going to be getting under the purple flannel sheets naked on my porch with a whole group of folks on the cabin porch next door. I should have brought a robe! (Note to self, bring robe camping when you’re getting a massage on the cabin porch. Okay, that’s never going to happen again!)

“Is my audience gone?” I asked Alla, my genius masseuse.

“Oh, they are both getting massages already.”

That explains the crowd! Hey, I want a massage buddy to get a massage with me! Oh well. (Note to self, find a massage buddy!)

I tried to memorize the sights and sounds and feelings of the massage. Creek sounds – check. Bird songs – check. Warm sun on face, penetrating little purple blindfold – check. Soft fuzzy flannel sheets – check. Limp limbs all happy from massage – check. Wait, only thing better would be if I were on a beach in Hawaii. HEY! Stop that. That’s the memory you stored up in 1993 on Hapuna Beach to get you through the 90s! Be here, be now, and memorize this one. You’ve got to make at least to 2010.

55 minutes of heaven ended all too soon, but my next stop was the giant Jacuzzi tub and WAY too many bubbles in there. That was very, very clean and fun after every inch of my arms, legs, back and neck were covered with lavender oil. All spruced up, I threw on jeans and my favorite black GAP t-shirt, and we were off to dinner on the Canyon Market back lawn before dancing on the front lawn to live rock n roll oldies. So fun!

We topped off the evening with wine and s’mores around the campfire with a big group at someone else’s cabin. YAY! Marshmallow roasting was so fun for the few kids we had with us. Eating s’mores was very yummy. Wine made us a little fuzzy. And we laughed and laughed and agreed to meet in Mexico next year. For free? Okay.

That would no doubt give me another memory or two to memorize. I might make it to retirement age with enough good memories!

Puttering into Nunhood

Okay, I'm back from roaming through the global consciousness project. Whew! THAT took awhile.

Now, I am puttering. What do you do when you're puttering? At the office here, I rearrange office supplies, clear counters, do the dishes, restock cream and sugar, check the fax machine and distribute them, stuff like that.

At home, I have tons of junk mail to look at and throw away. Of course there are always a myriad of catalogs. I can't really afford one thing in them! Toss. Sometimes my puttering ends at the cookie cupboard. Wait. No cookies! Argh. That leads to the, "What's in the fridge?" maneuver. Not much.

Now of course, there is always surfing the internet or changing channels on the TV, but I'm starting to think I need a new level of puttering. I am thinking of becoming a Nun/Gardener.

I'm already at church 2-3 times per week. I am praying everyday just to make it through the day. I guess I could add a bit more of The Message to my reading list now that I finished my book.

I have the poverty thing down. The mortgage, association fees and property taxes take care of most of my income. Then there are those pesky food and gasoline bills.

I have the celibacy thing down. I have sworn off men. Oh, I might pretend to go out once in the next decade, but that will just be for show. I'm just toying with him. No more men for me. What's the point? Do I really need my heart broken yet another time? Sheesh. I better cancel the last of my personal ads. What a waste those have been.

Let's see . . . what does that leave. I was thinking today of a vow of silence. This will be a tough one, but I could at least try shutting my mouth a couple more times per day. I am actually sick of hearing myself talk when it comes down to it.

Now all good nuns need an avocation. So mine is going to be gardening. I have a project just waiting for me that is over a year past due. Now this is glamorous. Wait for it. Wait for it . . . I'm going to replace the mulch in my rose garden. Yeah. I knew you'd like it. I'll let you know how this whole Nun/Gardener thing is going.

Time Traveling through Global Consciousness

Global Consciousness! Now that's a good use of the Internet.

Check this out . . . Article on Random Event Generators predicting global events. Wow. This looks like the discovery of a new phenomenon -- the concentrated emotional outpouring of millions of people influencing the output of the random event generators. Somehow this makes sense to me.

Now, I am currently engrossed in reading the bestselling novel "The Time Traveler's Wife" so I am open to entertaining this kind of trippy thinking. But it seems that the good people at Princeton (locked up in a small lab or cubicle somewhere in New Jersey?) are now looking at Global Consciousness as a project. And I LOVE how they divided their website for Scientific and Aesthetic viewpoints. Brilliant. And the Project seems like an excellent use of the Internet.

I got lost in the aesthetic side, surfing into places that barely had anything to do with the project when I found the "Prayer for America" by Rep. Dennis Kucinich (D-OH) that he entered into the Congressional Record way back in 2002 when we were going to war and authorizing the first round of $45.6 Billion in military spending to blow up, I mean liberate and rebuild, Iraq. I thought this guy was on the fringes when he ran for President, but I kind of like what he is saying in this prayer. It is worth reading and full of topics worth thinking about. Looking back, I wish more of us were thinking about this in November.

Okay, okay. I've gone from lovelorn to political -- something for everyone! And since I am somehow usually surrounded by Republicans who shoot me down, worshipping at the altar of Bush, I just had to vent a little here. Thanks for listening this long.

Valentine for You

Valentine for You
Posted by: ohblahdah.

What I wouldn't do for a heart shaped arrangement of roses! I guess we'll never know. And What I wouldn't do for a certain Pilot Guy if he were home tonight.

Can you want someone so badly that it takes over your thoughts? YES! And how often? I guess it’s better than obsessing over a thing like a car, or a house, or a piece of jewelry.

Here is something I wrote down after an amazing dream a couple years ago. It was so real, and this is how I felt.

"I definitely knew him and wanted to be with him, and admired him and felt safe, and loved, and somehow complete – like a missing piece of something perfect had been found."

Is a piece really missing? Does it just feel that way? Am I whole without him – whoever "him" is? Why do I want to give so much?

Okay, here's what I think. I care. I want. I ache for what I can see, but can’t touch. I want to reach out a touch a little piece of heaven in another person. I want to fill my heart. I want to give and to receive. I want to be balanced about it. I always fear that I’m out of balance in wanting a relationship. Right now, it hits me that it’s out of balance for such a people person, or rather a people pleasing person, to be alone on Valentine’s Day.

It’s okay. I’m good.

I think I’ll go buy flowers – maybe even pink roses. Well, if Trader Joe’s has them on sale, I will.

Swinging - Manhattan Beach

Swinging - Manhattan Beach
Posted by: ohblahdah.

Great day. No work, sunshine, long walk on the strand, good friend, new baby, my 13 yr old baby, and a turn on the swings.

This was in December, and I am jonesing for a sunny day here in February. I took today off for a medical procedure -- diagnostic imaging. Oh yeah, way fun -- especially the no feedback part. "Your doctor will call you."

Can I just say I CRAVE FEEDBACK. Well, I like it when it comes in the form of reassurance. That's the best!

Now, I'm psyching up for a garage cleaning project in the pouring rain. Should smell pretty musty in there. What do I care? I have NO sense of smell for the last 30 years (due to accident and skull fracture). My enlisted volunteers may complain.

I'll feed them chocolate! That should do the trick.

Truth and Grace

Our great weather is gone, and we are back to dreary winter, a bit of rain, and less fabulous sunshine. The trees have decided to bud with leaves, though! Very exciting this prospect of an early Spring. New life approaches us one more time around.

I recently met someone who has tugged on my heartstrings. Things are looking good if I can stay out of the way of my own happiness. Yeah, I get in my own way sometimes. In the process of meeting him online, I tried to describe myself as accurately as possible. I like to say I'm happy and healthy and hardworking. I'm not really sure all that's true, but it's who I want to be. And seriously now, with all the sick puppies I've seen on the personal ads, I am WAY happy and healthy.

I have a friend who describes me as insightful. That kind of surprised me. I never would have thought of that word, but I do get some good insight now and again. I think I deliver it in the wrong packaging sometimes. I need to work on that. The critical and judgmental side takes over and tries to shove INSIGHT down a perfectly lovely person's throat. Wow. That's gotta sting.

I'm taking a class to focus on healing the wounded parts of my life that create some kind of need to do that. It's very very cool. It's almost too much to take in. Of course we all have past hurts, wounds that were inflicted by family or loved ones. We should all try to get over them as much as we can. That way, we won't pass it on. Right?

I missed last week's class for the sake of a dinner for work. From the review I got, it seems we all need Truth and Grace. And we are much better at being truthful than gracious. Truth (or insight) can hurt, but adding grace to any situation can only soothe. I'm going to focus on that and tone down the truth. I've been obsessed with honesty, but I need some new and improved packaging.

Crystal Clear

Now, I know I'm a bit self-centered. I guess we all can be, but I sometimes think that when I catch a glimpse of a big, beautiful, full moon rising, it's just for me. My second inkling is to share it with someone. Does it seem silly to call someone from your cell phone to tell them about the moon? I've done this to my daughter.

"Go look outside right now! You’ve got to see this moon."

"Mommy, I can't see it."

"Well, keep looking. It'll be over the hill soon, and it's amazing."

Lately, I've felt that way about the weather. Maybe God designed these beautiful winter das just for me. It has been warm and sunny and clear, with cool mornings. Maybe it's the sunshine part. (I decided a long time ago that I need that extra Vitamin D.) Maybe it's the way I can see for miles and miles with the snow on the local mountains being the frosting on top of the cake. In the evening, the sky gets sort of a purple band at the horizon just after sunset, and the city lights start twinkling.

Driving home from work, I get a view of the San Gabriel Valley from the 605 Freeway that I love. From the high point, you can see back to Monrovia and all it's lighted car lots, then to Pasadena and the hills beyond to the west. There are some strange pits in Irwindale where they seem to strip mine rocks. Now would we call these quarries? Who decided it was okay to leave giant holes in the land out there? I do like how they fill with water and the light reflects off of them. To the East, there is the flood control channel and plain, the Santa Fe Dam, and all the lights all the way to my hills. Wow. Again, it's all for me, right?

With the trees still bare, the hills around my house are all so very green with the grasses and weeds growing like crazy. It hasn't been this way for a long time. With all the rain and now the sun, I keep expecting flowers and budding trees. It’s strange to see so far through the bare trees, but still have it springlike.

Well, I love it. And I am just going to keep thinking it’s all for me.

Here, Here

Okay at my age, I don't go to that many weddings anymore. Most everyone got married in their 20s, the rest in their 30s. All those divorced folks seem to have remarried as well by now. So I was surprised to be invited to the wedding of the daughter of a friend all of a sudden last week.

I ran out, bought a small gift at my favorite shop on South Lake . . . The Feast (yay, they gift wrap AND have the coolest handmade cards on earth) and was all set to go. The mother of the bride asked me to help her with a song she was going to sing for her daughter as part of the ceremony. All she needed was a little more confidence since she sounded so lovely. “You’re coming, right?” she asked again. Oh sure.

When Sunday afternoon came around, I was beat. Many weeks, the best part of life is a Sunday afternoon nap! Are you with me on this? And if some golf tournament will lull me to sleep with the hushed tones of their commentary – all the better. I got a late start on the best moments of my week since we had gone to lunch after church all morning, and Courtney got her long-awaited and way-past-due haircut at the oh-so-fab SuperCuts.

Well, there was no golf, but I was bored to tears by my second viewing of “Kung Pao” which my teen daughter still finds hilarious on 2nd or 3rd viewing. So I’m snoozing away and I wake up in a sleepy haze to think . . . “WEDDING!”

ARGH!! I had 30 minutes to get my butt to church for the wedding. If I hadn’t bought that beautiful picture frame for the happy couple, I would have skipped it. You know, when you get the inkling to skip an event, think again. Just do it. Go! There is some reason you hesitate, but the payoff will be great.

This was such a lovely ceremony and reception, so genuine and unique, and these kids were so in love. You just don’t see this that often. Well, I don’t. Mom and her husband did great on the duet. They looked great, sounded great, and the song was very touching. There were two other soloists, including our Music Pastor Chris Pipes. He sang, “I Can Only Imagine.” Awesome. A friend of the couple sang “Butterfly Kisses.” Wow.

The first moments of the reception were the best - the toasts after the family was all in place and the bridal party was at the head table. Yeah, eight attendants on each side was a bit much – but they all seemed to be very important the bride and groom. The best man made his toast – amazing, the sister/maid of honor gushed about her perfect big sister, and then . . . the groom started to talk about his wife and their life. So real, moved to tears, honoring his bride, pledging to all of us to be the kind of husband we expect and God requires. We have no worries on his commitment.

Hearing a groom speak so thoughtfully renewed my faith in men in general. Of course, I have a long list of deadbeats who have dashed my hopes, but there are a few rare gems out there. To have a man speak the same way about me would be my heart’s desire.

My favorite moment was when mom danced with the bride. They were cheek to cheek and the love was so evident. I guess the bride’s father was never in her life, and mom was always there. I don’t remember the song, but I will never forget the spirit of the moment. I had held myself together for the most part all through the ceremony and the toasts, but this one got me. I think it was seeing their love for each other, knowing a bit of their stories, and realizing that one day, my daughter would marry and I might be in the same position. We are that close now, my daughter and I, and I hope we will be when YEARS from now she chooses a husband. Hopefully, I have at least another 10 years – maybe more.

Just had to share. There is real love and commitment out there. We should all aspire to find it, grow it, keep it, and cherish it even if it feels like hard work sometimes.

People Get Ready . . .

I am being bombarded with news of the Metrolink crash in Glendale/Atwater Village today. It's a little overwhelming on every channel from every angle. People on their way to work, riding the train like always, then boom. Can you imagine? From 55 to 0 mph in an instant. Maybe 9 people are immediately transported to the hereafter.

Riding to work, then dead. Wow. Or . . . you pick up your stuff and walk off a burning train with a scratch or a bruise. Wow. I think the worst ones to be are the broken and wounded, stuck in the rain with a shattered leg, hoping for the kindness of strangers and emergency response heroes. God bless all of them.

Reminds me of the JPL vanpool that went over edge Angeles Crest Highway recently. Some died, some were badly wounded, and a couple walked away. Does this not boggle your mind? Why did those die? Why did others walk away? Is there a lesson? Will we ever understand the randomness of what happens in these situations?

All I can think and feel in this situation is that there must be a lesson for each one who remains, and for the loved ones around them. There is a purpose for each of their lives. How many times have we been spared? And what is our purpose? Worse yet, what is the penalty for not fulfilling it? Flip it, and what is the reward for walking the narrow path toward fulfilling that purpose? Are we hanging out here until we've completed it?

What a mess. Two passenger trains, one freight locomotive, now they mention one Jeep vehicle driving around the barricades.

People get ready, there's a train that's coming. Be ready, work on your purpose. Love the people in your life, and tell them.

Mysterious Ways

Do you ever get an inkling to turn right on your normal beaten path? You usually go straight, but you could turn right. Do you then argue with yourself, "But I always go straight here."

Now I don't want to get super spiritual with you here. I'm just sayin' . . . maybe turn right this time. There's more to this existence than just us. There's the cloud of witnesses, the powers that be, and things that are not flesh and blood. You can't see everything with your eyes. Sometimes your heart can be the guide. I hope.

When I say I "operate in the moment," I mean I want to be real and open to possibilities of people and protection and all good things.

Think about it.

Goodbye Johnny

Wow. I can't count the hours I spent in front of Channel 4, watching Johnny Carson from Beautiful Downtown Burbank. And now he's gone. It took my breath away a little when I heard the news. My friend Ellie and I looked at the Yahoo! news summary, and there it was at the top of the list. We both gasped. We had both seen the same news story last week about how he was feeding jokes to David Letterman. How cool was that? He wrote jokes to the end. Just never could give up the smokes, I guess. It pains me to imagine the suffering of dying from emphysema. (Please quit now if you still smoke.)

I used to be the only one in my house, staying up late to watch the Tonight Show. I'm not sure if I was born a night owl, but I definitely developed the habit of late night TV starting with Johnny and the monologue at 11:30 each weeknight. It was just about the only time I got to choose the channel!

Okay, we only had three good channels and maybe three bad ones when I grew up even in L.A., but of course there was only one show to watch that late. The Tonight Show was the only place where I could see good comedy, great sketches, current musical acts, actors chatting with Johnny, and all the fun stuff that I craved. I think it formed my humor before we discovered Monty Python or Cheech & Chong, and way before Saturday Night Live.

On choosing channels -- my brothers and I would fight over our TV for years on end. I can remember running up to our old black and white set from the 60s , twirling the dial as fast as I could from my brothers' favorite show to mine . . . clickity, clickicty, click. After I sat down, they would run up and twirl it back . . . clickity, clickicty, click. Now, I run up to switch it again, and one would catch my hand on the dial. Now, it's a stand-off, but I win. I'm oldest, biggest, most willful and stubborn. My brother could only win with violence of some sort, then I would cry out for some actual parental supervision. His M.O. at this point is to lie. Mom's yelling from the other room never came to investigate the crime. Violence and/or lying won most cases -- so let's just say I have issues with both.

Well, we finally got a color TV, but I know we still had to get up to change the channel! I think we might have kept the old B&W in the back bedroom for a while -- til it died.

It seems like it was in the mid 70s when we finally got a second TV to stop some of the fighting. Yeah, but it was something like 13". And the remote control? Was it about 1974 when we got that? Okay, how frustrating is this? Our remote could only go UP one channel at a time, but at least it was wireless. Okay, don't get me started on my love affair with ON TV, cable, the VCR, DVD, and now my DirecTV satellite dish and the onscreen program guide. (We had a little spat last week when they reprogrammed the satellite feed. I'm expecting an apology on my January bill.)

Yeah, I need a TIVO for life to be complete. Ahhh, TIVO. I am dreaming of a DVR.

Thinking back, I'm amazed I lived through the TV years with my two brothers, and our stepbrother. We spent our life there in front of the tube. We wished we could eat and sleep there in the living room. We wanted meals and discussions only during commercials. "Mooooommmmm. Can't it wait until the commercial?!" And you can guess, her answer was usually, "No, turn that thing off."

Well, nobody changed the channel when Johnny's monologue was on - or Karmac the Magnificent. I have missed him since the last show. And now we'll miss him always.

We all must give.

TSUNAMI AID

Children and families need our help in the wake of South Asia's deadly tsunamis, hundreds of thousands are in need of help to rebuild their lives. You can make a difference. It's easy!

This is my personal pitch for you to give – anything you can spare and a little bit more.

You can make a lasting difference in the lives of tsunami survivors by partnering with the good people of World Vision. World Vision has nearly 4,000 local staff on the ground distributing food, reuniting families, protecting children, and much more. They have done a continuing work worldwide for many, many years to help anyone in need. Last year, 87% of their total revenue went to programs benefiting children, families, and communities in need.

I had a very good friend who worked in Development for World Vision. I trust these people, and sent our holiday charity collection from everyone at work to them. I have donated to their efforts to help the persecuted people of Sudan, the needy in Africa, and the earthquake victims in Iran. I wonder how all these people are surviving still?

If not World Vision, try the American Red Cross. Their President said that 94% of the telethon money would go directly to Tsunami victims. That is so cool. There is also UNICEF or Habitat for Humanity. They say they can build a house for $50-100. Imagine that! Giving only $50 to them can build a house in Thailand. Wow.

President Bush signed an emergency bill to allow all donations to Tsunami Aid that are given through January 31, 2005, to count as a deduction on your 2004 income taxes. This is a really good incentive to get Americans to give now.

Like the old song says, “We are the World.” It could have been our coast, but it was the coast of 11 countries that already had major struggles.

Please be sure to give something. Any amount can help.

OMG, I've gone and done it?!

Lately, I feel I'm bursting at the seems with ideas. I've been such a big fan of wwdn and superjux -- but it's crazy to have comments longer than their daily post. So here I am. I don't think I'll tell anyone I've created my blog until I feel comfortable in my own skin -- errr, rather in the template I chose, and the words I use.

Of course, I'm late for work, haven't had coffee, took my daughter to high school in my PJs and a jacket after picking up her friend that called for us to chauffeur her. I'm the day after a board meeting at work and my energy is spent.

I do have a new enthusiasm for a certain brilliant and beautiful pilot -- so maybe I will call him my inspiration. Keep all fingers and toes crossed, say your prayers, lighten up and BELIEVE in this one. I think he likes enthusiastic and curvy women - of my age even! Wowzer.