O.M.G.
My blogwatch says there are 14 new blog posts for me to read. So many good blogs, so little time. At the moment I am blogging this via the wonders of email. Here's a few catch-up items:
1. The Judge in Kandy's case was overwhelmed with requests for jury leniency. He said that he had never seen so many applications from prospective juries to be released. Well, goodness - it's the beginning of summer! What is he thinking? Fortunately, Kandy listed all her reasons, not the least of which was the plane tickets to Ohio leaving the day before the trial start date - and the judge let her go. Yippeee!
2. The garden is really coming together. Still lots of work to do in the rose garden.
3. It felt like we spent the entire weekend in the car. Drove up Pacific Coast Highway (pictures later) past Jenner to Ft. Ross. The girls enjoyed that, but we neglected to find a sandy beach that far north. We should have stopped at Bodega Bay for them to swim... Did you know the PCH is full of hairpin turns?
4. Of course, we ended up taking the scenic route as in, "No Megan, we're not lost. We know where we are, we just aren't quite sure how to get there.
(Warning: Graphic Kid Detail below - do not eat while reading...)
5. 1500 feet from Ft. Ross Megan says, "I'm not feeling good." (Did I mention the hairpin turns?) 1200 feet from Ft. Ross Megan can't hold it in anymore. There's nothing like the sound of a kid up-chucking in the car. 1000 feet from Ft. Ross I can finally pull over - just in front of the sign that says we're 1000 feet from our destination. Wonder Woman Kandy jumps out at gets Megan out of the car, but not before there is vomit all over the floor, her pants & shoes, the seat, and Katie cringing away on the far side of seat (not one of her best moments).
6. Excitement over. On to Ft. Ross.
7. Eventually head to Guerneville (a very gay-friendly town) for very late lunch. Wandered into a few shops, one wasn't appropriate for kids, quickly ushered them out. Another was a hemp store. Megan got a great marionette puppet, Katie and Kandy got a couple of hemp bracelets with beads.
8. Back home. I am beginning to hate driving.
That was our weekend.
How was yours?
--
"We used to think that a hundred million monkeys at an hundred million typewriters eventually could produce the complete works of Shakespeare; now, thanks to the Internet, we know this is not true."
Monday, June 18, 2007
Sunday, January 01, 2006
Looking for Attitude in 2006
208
It is New Years Day; sweet lather! ♪♫ ♪♫I have no idea how to approach this new year. 2005 was not one of my best years, actually rather forgettable. No where to go except up, as they say. I can't say it has been a rock-bottom year. My family is doing well, the kids are great, but deep inside I've been missing a beat, and I don't know how to get that beat back.
People look to me to make the right choices, the decisions, and I just don't know if I have the wherewithal to do that anymore. It's as if a piece is missing, and all the information is no longer within reach to know what to do and when to do it. And on top of it all, I have to lose 50-75 1bs to get out of the danger zone.
What is this girl to do???
Tuesday, November 22, 2005
My Life, but maybe not yours
At work I can't take my cell phone in the building. Oh, and an MP3 player is a big no-no. For the most part, I don't mind the cell phone ban very much - I never use it at work anyway. But,
I miss my MP3!
Why won't they let me take my music with me? Often times I work in a very cold computer room. The room is noisy and filled with shitty electronic interference. I couldn't get a broadcast in there if I stood up on a table and held an antenna. It's not the music they're afraid of. It's that damned little drive that can't be watched 100% of the time. They're afraid I'm not really going to listen to music. Oh no! I'm going to sneak some company secrets onto that nifty little drive and sell them to the highest bidder.
NOT!
I would never do this. But then, I suppose someone else might. At least that's what they think. You see, I'm not being singled out here. I'm just one tiny little cog in the Big Wheels That Keep on Turning. This rule and about a 1000 others protect that information from some common weeny out there.
I hope it's worth it. Maybe I'll have to go out and get a boombox and some CD's to have some tunes.
That is so retro...
I miss my MP3!
Why won't they let me take my music with me? Often times I work in a very cold computer room. The room is noisy and filled with shitty electronic interference. I couldn't get a broadcast in there if I stood up on a table and held an antenna. It's not the music they're afraid of. It's that damned little drive that can't be watched 100% of the time. They're afraid I'm not really going to listen to music. Oh no! I'm going to sneak some company secrets onto that nifty little drive and sell them to the highest bidder.
NOT!
I would never do this. But then, I suppose someone else might. At least that's what they think. You see, I'm not being singled out here. I'm just one tiny little cog in the Big Wheels That Keep on Turning. This rule and about a 1000 others protect that information from some common weeny out there.
I hope it's worth it. Maybe I'll have to go out and get a boombox and some CD's to have some tunes.
That is so retro...
Monday, November 07, 2005
Gaydar Radio
I was poking around blogs when I came across a reference to Gaydar Radio. Funny that.
I wonder how long the term "gaydar" has been around? Well we know it couldn't pre-date "radar," which dates from the mid-40's, so it's fairly recent.
I know that when I was in Keflavik, Iceland, in the very early 70's, we used the term quite a bit. It was that 2nd sense that you discover as a newly liberated person (ie., you no longer live with mommy and daddy), who just happens (!I hate this kind of reference!) to be - gasp! - g-a-y. It was often the only way you could get a bead on someone who-just-might-be One of Us. Otherwise, you could get investigated and thrown out of the service. What a crock.
But, I digress. Gaydar Radio is interesting. I haven't listened to it very long yet, so I haven't got a sense of whether or not it's worth my time and effort of coming back to more that a couple times. I generally do not label my music as being gay or not gay. I think that is a foolish exercise, as well as quite artifical. A song is good, it either says something or not, and you want to listen to it.
However, I do understand that there may be a growing genre of songs with content that has a gay thread - and perhaps the only venue they would have would be something like Gaydar Radio. If that is the case, the more power to them. Everyone's voice should have a platform from which to rise. And Internet Radio is certainly a vastly spreading venue.
In my 50 years, so much has changed... the world is so much smaller - and larger - than it ever was as when I was a child.
I wonder how long the term "gaydar" has been around? Well we know it couldn't pre-date "radar," which dates from the mid-40's, so it's fairly recent.
I know that when I was in Keflavik, Iceland, in the very early 70's, we used the term quite a bit. It was that 2nd sense that you discover as a newly liberated person (ie., you no longer live with mommy and daddy), who just happens (!I hate this kind of reference!) to be - gasp! - g-a-y. It was often the only way you could get a bead on someone who-just-might-be One of Us. Otherwise, you could get investigated and thrown out of the service. What a crock.
But, I digress. Gaydar Radio is interesting. I haven't listened to it very long yet, so I haven't got a sense of whether or not it's worth my time and effort of coming back to more that a couple times. I generally do not label my music as being gay or not gay. I think that is a foolish exercise, as well as quite artifical. A song is good, it either says something or not, and you want to listen to it.
However, I do understand that there may be a growing genre of songs with content that has a gay thread - and perhaps the only venue they would have would be something like Gaydar Radio. If that is the case, the more power to them. Everyone's voice should have a platform from which to rise. And Internet Radio is certainly a vastly spreading venue.
In my 50 years, so much has changed... the world is so much smaller - and larger - than it ever was as when I was a child.
Tuesday, October 11, 2005
Secrets
I was reading a blog that I really enjoy and she mentioned another blog that has a very cool idea. You can post anonymous secrets on postcards on the site.
Check it out.
Quite cool.
Check it out.
Quite cool.
Saturday, October 08, 2005
Howls and Wind
The wind howled through last night. Chairs on the deck are in disarray, much like my mind this morning. I'm feeling fenced in by duty and so little time left to do those things I once set out to do. In the angst of the moment, I'm reminded by my children that I can only do one thing at a time. Like the wind, if I try to blow everything through at once, nothing recognizable will be left, and nothing left to build upon. The point is not to have disarray as a legacy.
Friday, September 30, 2005
Dust to Dust
They say, "Ashes to ashes and dust to dust."
My beloved kitty, Lucky, is buried in the backyard. It was a cold, wet winter day to dig a hole in the garden. She had died all curled up, sleeping in a ray of sunshine. I wrapped her little tortie colored body in a favorite blanky, and set her in the bottom of her last resting place.
The girls said good-bye and laid some flowers on top of her.
The hardest part was covering her up. A most ridiculous thought came to me -
"What if she wakes up?"
And another: "What if an animal digs her up?"
Even in the end I worried about her. I don't know why it is that we humans can get so wrapped up in the cuteness of our pets. They're sort of surrogate people to us, aren't they? They give unconditional love and attention. Demanding only that that their species demands. I miss her just the same. It's a human frailty to live with.
My beloved kitty, Lucky, is buried in the backyard. It was a cold, wet winter day to dig a hole in the garden. She had died all curled up, sleeping in a ray of sunshine. I wrapped her little tortie colored body in a favorite blanky, and set her in the bottom of her last resting place.
The girls said good-bye and laid some flowers on top of her.
The hardest part was covering her up. A most ridiculous thought came to me -
"What if she wakes up?"
And another: "What if an animal digs her up?"
Even in the end I worried about her. I don't know why it is that we humans can get so wrapped up in the cuteness of our pets. They're sort of surrogate people to us, aren't they? They give unconditional love and attention. Demanding only that that their species demands. I miss her just the same. It's a human frailty to live with.
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