Shannon's Writing

Wordpress v Blogger

2011-03-11T14:02:00.001-05:00

Well now I find myself in a dilemma. Having to learn Wordpress for work, should I switch this blog to Wordpress? Any opinions would be helpful.

Everything "got small"

2011-01-18T11:21:00.001-05:00

One of my favorite Steve Martin stand up routines was “Let’s Get Small.” Of course, that was back in the 70s, and he was making fun of people who did a lot of drugs.

My drug of choice is very strong black tea, or Diet Coke. After drinking way too much caffeine yesterday, I was up part of the night thinking about how everything’s gotten smaller in the past couple of years. A few examples:

• Lots of big people are truly trying to lose weight – and keep it off for good. I point to the popularity of “Biggest Loser” as not only a TV show but a brand now. The merchandising is going crazy.
• Blogging turned into microblogging and Twitter.
• The guy who developed microlending programs for third world countries won the Nobel Peace Prize. Now mobile phone companies in those countries are helping poor people to avoid banks completely and pay for everyday things with electronic funds via their phones.
• “Hyperlocal” became a word I see more and more. Now Patch.com is expanding into just about every small town, becoming a replacement for the local newspapers, most of which have folded if they didn’t already have an online presence. People are trying to spend their money at farmers’ markets and other small and independently owned businesses as much as possible, to help their immediate economy.
• The new TV we bought – an LED – is 42” wide, but about 1” thick. It replaced a 32” tube TV that not only weighed about a ton but was about 2 1/2 feet deep and just fit on our entertainment center.
• Everyone’s tightening their belts – super-tight budgets at businesses and kitchen table discussions are much more common now that things cost more and we’re not making more. Much of the time we’re making less and doing without stuff we thought we needed.
• We’re selling stuff cheap on Craigslist and Ebay, and getting rid of stuff on Freecycle. “Someone else can use this stuff, so why are we keeping it?”

So what’s the deal? The recession drove this trend.

If you become suddenly unemployed, which many people I know have in the past couple of years, your first thought is, “Bastards. I worked for them for X years and this is the thanks I get.” Your second thought is, “Now who do I know at X company that I can call and find out if they’re hiring?” No matter what size city or town you live in, you have a circle of family, friends, and acquaintances you turn to when you need something, and we’re relying on them more and more the worse things get.

We’re returning to the days when everyone in town knew everyone else in town, and their business, and everyone lived frugally because they had to. We’re forced to share more of our foibles and weaknesses to those around us, and we’ve gotten past our pridefulness to ask for help. And many of us are finding that there’s an overwhelming positive response from our support systems.

Facebook and other technological communication systems – such as texting between generations of people, some of whom didn’t even own a cell phone or laptop until recently – keep us all connected more tightly than we’ve been in years. And we’re all better for it.

I like this “front porch sittin’ ” sort of mentality. Where you can greet neighbors as they walk by your house (as more people are walking for exercise, weight loss, or just to save on gas), and often they stop to say hello and inquire about your job search, or to pick up some coupons. We’re meeting new people when they buy from us or sell something to us from an online ad. We’re going back to that person-to-person sort of lifestyle, and in the words of Martha Stewart, “It’s a good thing.” A very good thing.

The next installment in the memoir - please let me know what you think

2010-12-01T13:27:00.001-05:00

The washer

There was the time that he threw his circular saw across our half finished deck. Then there was the time he ripped the screen off our sliding door in a rage. There were other instances of his anger exploding into a physical act of violence against some inanimate object or another, but for some reason I never felt like I was in danger. It was more a feeling of watching a 2 year old have a temper tantrum over being told “no.” I’d usually roll my eyes and leave the area. Later he would clean up and be a little astounded at himself and the damage he caused; almost like he hadn’t been there during the actual event. Even slightly impressed at whatever he’d thrown, how far it had gone. Fortunately, I just never happened to be in the way of the tool or other object on the receiving end of the damage.

But the washer was the last straw. I knew the end was near when the washer caused him to beat it completely unnecessarily.

Leaving Massachusetts and packing up not one but two moving trucks, and doing it while I was pregnant and unable to help out with lifting, was hard on him. He’d really never lived in another place for as long. But he sure was happy to leave. At least that’s what he led everyone – even me – to believe. We literally had each other at that point; no friends came over to drink a few beers or help wrap up the delicate items with us, or talk about coming to visit once we got settled. It was just him and I wrapping, packing, taping, labeling, throwing stuff away… then loading those trucks.

Naturally we had to use an appliance dolly to get our washer and dryer out of the basement. To this day I couldn’t tell you how he got them upstairs. My memory is fuzzy on whether he might have had someone helping or not. My instinct is to say he did it himself, but you ask, how would he? He did a lot of things that made me wonder how he accomplished them, though. I just know I didn’t do it and somehow both appliances got into the truck. And of course he did some of his truck packing in a fit of anger… I know now that it was actually the manic side kicking in.

So the washer and dryer didn’t get loaded gently, and the washer’s frame got bent badly enough that once we got into our new place in Michigan, the washer always sounded like it was off balance, regardless of the size of the load it had inside. I actually entertained people at gatherings by describing the sound it would make while washing.

I tried propping it up, leaning against it while it was washing, putting in smaller and smaller loads. Finally I gave up and ordered him to call for service on it. It was at one of the points when we actually had some money to pay for a repair and I took advantage of that.

The repair bill estimate came to $420. “Yer frame’s bent,” the guy said over the phone when he called me at work that afternoon. I sighed and put my head in my hand.
Not what I wanted to hear.

“But we only paid $500 for it new,” I said plaintively.

“Well, that’s what it’s gonna take to replace the frame. So I guess you need to figure that out.”

Yeah, thanks. We’ll do that.

We dealt with the washer for a few more days, until a manic mood hit him again. This time, in the heat of the summer, he put on a loaded tool belt (and how that didn’t make him fall over, again, I don’t know) and pulled the washer out of the linen closet it was in. He disconnected the water line, and then scooted it to the left, then the right, back and forth, waddling it out from behind the bifold door. With a huge crash, he pushed it over on its side. He pulled a hammer out of the tool belt and began whacking the frame with abandon. The noise this made brought me in from outside and as I came in from the back door, I see him standing wobbily next to the washer, just going to town on it like it insulted his mother.

“BRIAN! BRIAN!” I yelled over the din. “WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?”

He stopped hammering long enough to look around for the source of the voice. Seeing me, his eyes focused a little and responded, “Fixing the washer.”

He resumed pounding.

“STOP STOP STOP.” I came a little closer, but I honestly was frightened of his eyes when he saw through me like that. “The repair guy said the frame was bent.”

Gritting his teeth he looked at me and said, “So I am FIXING—IT--!” With these last two words he hit the frame so hard that the hammer actually bounced back off and almost hit him in the face. It threw him off balance and he had to grab the frame of the washer to right himself.

Now I was truly scared. He had no idea what he was doing. I grabbed the phone and went back outside. I dialed my parents’ house. My voice actually quivered. “Dad? Can you come over? Like right now? Brian’s beating the hell out of the washing machine with a hammer, and it’s honestly scaring the crap out of me.”

“I’m on my way,” said Dad.

But of course by the time Dad got there about five minutes later, the washer had ceased to have any interest for Brian and he was back in his shop quietly doing some taxidermy stuff. My dad and I stared at the washer and its new tattoos of hammer marks up and down the outside of the frame. Dad righted the washer and took care of getting it back into place. He didn’t connect it to the water line, however.
With a frown he said, “You can wash your clothes at our place until you can get a new one.”

I hugged him tightly. “Thanks Dad.”

“Just for the record, I don’t like this… what he’s doing… you know…” Dad pointed in the general direction of the taxidermy shop. “You are worth more than that. You don’t deserve it.” This was very strong language for my dad.

Wiping away the tears that had finally burst out of my welling eyes, I said, “I know. I know.” I shook my head, and it was then that I truly did know, I was worth something. I was worth saving. And now I had to make a plan.

Borders gets on the ebook bandwagon

2010-10-15T13:56:00.001-05:00

A bit late. But it seems like they're trying.

http://www.annarbor.com/business-review/borders-introduces-self-publishing-service-for-e-books/

Saline Celtic Fest July 16 & 17

2010-06-29T15:03:00.001-05:00

This article explains all the fun that is coming up...

http://www.heritage.com/articles/2010/06/29/saline_reporter/news/doc4c26591145019519203876.txt

WNBA website fundraiser

2010-06-04T13:10:00.001-05:00

This year we are also in the process of re-designing our website (www.wnba-books.org) to include:

* A blogging platform
* Social networking connections
* New author page with colorful book jackets
* More flexible design to be updated often by WNBA-designated members

The national website is our calling card to every professional who reads, hears, or learns about WNBA. It is the link to chapters and the latest news. Our target for the website re-launch is early 2010. As you can imagine, this significant undertaking requires time and money.

Our hope is that with each member contributing just a small amount, from $10.00-$50.00, we will have the additional funds to complete the launch of the new site and continue offering our grants, awards, and other marketing initiatives to "bookwomen" around the country.

Please send all contributions to Margaret Auer, WNBA National Treasurer, with your chapter notated on your check.

Margaret E. Auer, Dean
University Libraries/Instructional Design Studio
University of Detroit Mercy
4001 W. McNichols Rd.
Detroit, MI 48221-3038

THANK YOU for your continued enthusiasm and support for the Women's National Book Association.

Ta-da!! Here it is!! Please read and comment.

2010-04-07T20:54:00.003-05:00

Paul Bunyan

It was a day in March that was unnaturally warm for Massachusetts. The outside thermometer read 58 degrees, so it seemed that there should be tiny green buds on the grayish brown bushes and trees. But there weren’t. The sunshine and blue skies were a temporary respite from the normal dank gray winter sky, and a hard winter that wasn’t over yet. We were enjoying the weather, even thinking that it might last. But we should have figured it was too good to be true.

I was in the kitchen, cleaning. It was Saturday and that was the time I had available to do things like housework, grocery shopping, and homework. I had just started graduate school and it was much more time consuming than I thought it would be. But I had made the commitment, and my part-time job earned me an almost full-time income, allowing me some time during the week to work on projects and assignments. I’d caught up on the homework for the following week’s class so my attention now had to turn to the house and laundry, which had been neglected most of the week.

The breakfast plates were in the dishwasher and the pans were clean and put away. I was wiping down the sink and countertops, making a mental grocery list of things we needed, and looking out at our two-acre side yard. The sink, under a bow window, looked directly east and the morning sun had already cleared the room, spreading its warmth on the floor now instead of the ceiling and walls as it had earlier in the morning.

My brother Pete, who was visiting for the week from the Midwest, was outside with my husband. Pete had been looking forward to some snowboarding in the area, since I’d been hyping it up to him that we’d had almost 6 feet of snow. But with the weather warming every day for the past couple of weeks, most of the snow had melted and Pete didn't have much else to do.

Now that that there was another male around, my husband Brian was taking advantage of that fact to get some things done in the yard. He was a paraplegic and couldn’t do some of the projects around the house that required standing up. Brian used arm crutches to get around sometimes instead of his wheelchair, even though he’d been told to only use them when absolutely necessary. He had hand controls in his truck so he could drive. I hardly ever drove it because the steel pole connecting the steering column to the gas and brake pedals got in my way and if you tried to avoid touching them, you more than likely hit the gas or brake when you didn’t mean to.

He worked at home, in a shop we’d set up on the property for him. It had a ramp, heat, plumbing and electrical, a stackable washer and dryer, air conditioning, and every imaginable tool.

There were two tall, thin trees just outside the door of the shop that he’d wanted to remove since before we put the shop in. The trees, although not very large in circumference, were still 15 to 20 feet in height, and were bowing towards the driveway. He was afraid they were going to come down in a storm and hit the electric or cable wires. I’d successfully kept him from taking the trees down, at least before the weather got bad. My argument was that not only had we already taken down over 150 trees off the property (according to him, trees near a house caused shade and dampness, which then made mold grow on or in the house), he was going to need another person to guide the tree as it came down so it wouldn’t hit the house. And I wasn’t interested in helping.

With another male around, Brian believed he would get some support for his counter-argument, because there always was one with Brian. (Typically he and I argued about not only the priority of doing certain things around the house, but how to do them as well.) His theory was that there was no possibility either tree could hit anything since they were such thin trees. “Barely even branches.” As long as they were cut properly, they would fall away from the house and the shop anyway.” You worry too much. Trust me.”

My brother stood there listening to this exchange, with an amused smirk, smoking a menthol.

“Do whatever you want then,” I responded irritably, retreating back into the house, my eyes falling on the lawn tractor, an older Craftsman model we’d purchased for cash, which was sitting a couple of feet off the corner of the front porch. It had been covered with a tarp since November. Just the night before, Brian had taken off the rocks that held the tarp on, folded the tarp on the damp ground and opened up the hood of the tractor. He’d cleaned out the mouse nests. Before it could be started up and used, however, the tractor needed an oil change and new spark plugs. Anyone else might have finished this project first. But the chain saw beckoned and the trees were coming down first.

As I swept the floor in the kitchen, the operation began. Brian leaned up against the back end of his GMC Jimmy, which waited about ten feet from the trees. He wound a chain between the trees, about 3 feet up from the ground. He circled his forearms around his arm crutches and stood up wobbily, to stand next to the tallest tree. Then he tied the end of a thin nylon rope to the midsection of the tree, and pulled the tip of the tree towards him. He motioned to my brother to get him something that was sitting on the front step of his shop. Pete retrieved a metal disk and handed it to him.

Brian then wound the rope around the disk, and tied the other end to the hitch of the car. He handed the keys to the truck to Pete and waved an arm, which I assumed detailed whatever instructions he was giving Pete.

The disk, I then realized, was a pulley. He was going to have Pete drive down the driveway slowly, which would pull the top of the tree down. Brian would then cut the tree with the chainsaw, just above the level of the chain that held both trees steady.

I had a bad feeling. So I deliberately did not watch. I turned my back to the front windows and bit my nails.

The next thing I heard – because the windows were open with the nice weather – was a chainsaw starting up, and Brian yelling “OK, GO!” Then I heard my brother hitting the gas… a bit too hard. He wasn’t trying to, but the hand controls must have been in his way. Then I heard more yelling, and I decided I’d better look out the front window quick, to see if there was going to be an emergency room visit in the immediate future.

What I saw could have been in slow motion, or a bad scene in a film, and it wouldn’t have been any more bizarre to watch. As Brian yelled “No, no!” my brother must have heard, “Go, go!” and he kept tiptoeing the gas pedal, which tightened the nylon rope even further. The now-weakened tree, anchored with chain to its brother, squeaked and cracked. The tension on the rope pulled it off the hitch, through the pulley, snapping the tree like a whip. The tree then flipped exactly 90 degrees, and fell towards the front porch, landing with an unnatural thud, squarely on the edge of the tractor’s open hood, flipping the hood closed as it did so. I screamed.

The deep V in the tractor’s hood was almost comical looking, it was so deep. But that wasn’t the only damage. Fortunately the very tip of the tree ended about a foot off the corner of our brand new front porch, but it took the cable and phone wires down with it. The metal plate that held the wires to the house was now dangling a couple of feet off the siding.

I burst out the front door, calling to the guys to see if they were ok. My brother had parked the truck, leaving the driver door open. He stood next to the truck covering his open mouth, ostensibly to hold in his shocked and wildly amused “I don’t want to laugh but I can’t help it” laugh. My husband had the same look on his face and was trying less hard to keep the laughter in.

I was not laughing.

I turned on my heel and went back into the house to get the phone and the phone book to look up the utility company’s number. I got on the phone with a very nice woman in customer service who could tell I was trying really hard not to go ballistic on her. She did some checking and discovered that there was already a crew on our street doing some tree trimming and utility pole repairs. She said she would dispatch them to our place immediately so they could evaluate the damage and try to fix it. She did let me know that this type of damage was usually not covered in our monthly insurance coverage, since it was something we did and not an issue of bad weather.

I was actually seething, I realized, as I was talking and breathing through my clenched teeth. I don’t think I had ever been that angry before or since.

I grabbed my purse and the keys to the truck and walked out the front door. I stalked over to Pete and Brian, who by this point had tears in their eyes, they were laughing so hard.

With my jaw tight, I told Brian I was going shopping, and that I’d be back in about an hour and a half. “You’d better have this f-ing mess cleaned up by the time I get back, and I mean ALL of it.” I didn’t wait for his response and got into the truck and drove away, squealing the tires at the bottom of the driveway as I turned on to the street.

When I got back, the tree was removed and cut up, the wires were back on the house, and there was an epilogue. Unfortunately there wasn’t much they could do with the tractor hood, at least in the time that I was gone.

The utility workers drove up in their truck, parked it at the end of the driveway, and walked up to Pete and Brian, who were lounging by the shop drinking Coronas.

“So who’s the Paul Bunyan?” asked one of the utility workers. My brother apparently collapsed into giggles then, just about spitting out his beer, as my husband sheepishly raised one hand off his arm crutch.

The utility guy grinned. “We’ll get you fixed up. Just don’t do it again, ok?”

So it's been a month since I "promised" something

2010-04-07T09:17:00.003-05:00

Yeah ... that. Just finished up the quarterly newsletter for the WNBA (www.wnba-books.org) and have also started some research on converting print books into ebooks... so I can't say I didn't have the time to write. I've been making time for other things, however. And I have now come up with quite a few more "incidents" to write about, including the many hospital stays of my ex. Wonder how those never made it into the "idea list" yet; I guess I was blocking them :/

I know, I promised...

2010-03-10T13:32:00.002-05:00

But I haven't had much of a chance to flesh out my story. I've certainly added to the idea list, however, which is now 7 pages long. Every day I seem to remember something else that I hadn't thought of in years... last night there was a piece on sled hockey on the evening news, and I watched it closely to see if Rick Middleton was still coaching. The piece was about a group of players who are Iraq war vets, though, so it wasn't the Paralympic team. Just weird stuff like that. So I promise: a real post with a chapter next week!

The writing... yeah.. that.

2010-03-02T14:20:00.002-05:00

So with multiple people in our house getting the stomach flu this week... the writing has gone by the wayside. So I'm at least one page behind. I added some more detail to my chronological outline today, so now I have 5 pages. Amazing how when I am laying in bed at night, what new memories come flooding back, even when they're not summoned.

Next week, the goal is to finish up the first "incident" story about the trees getting chopped down and get it posted here for your perusal and commentary. Slow but sure finishes the book.

Writing the novel - week 2

2010-02-10T21:54:00.002-05:00

So far so good. A page and half of single spaced text--a short chapter, now in progress. Probably one of the only humorous parts of the book, too. It's the story I have told over and over as an example of how moronic my ex was. It's visual and has a lot of detail. It's the story that sticks with me, and easy for me to tell since it's one of the only instances that is not frought with heavy emotion. A good starting point. I'll post it here when it's ready to be seen.

Something's getting written tomorrow!

2010-02-09T14:35:00.002-05:00

So today I was supposed to start yoga. Only when I called the gym yesterday to make the commitment, they told me there wasn't enough interest in the 2x/week class so it would just be a Tues. only class and I'd have to be a drop-in. So that's a little more expensive but not bad.

I got a call from day care yesterday that Ethan had a fever and some stomach upset... so back to the dr. again. Only the regular doctor this time instead of an urgent care. The end result was that he was put on some allergy meds, hopefully that will dry him out once and for all. And he's been put on another antibiotic, because his ear infection is not only not healed up yet but it's back in the right ear again too. So I had to leave work early, pick him up, go to the doc, go to CVS for the prescription... then get home.

Scott got up this morning to leave extra early for work and realized he had a flat tire. So he had to take my car and I stayed home w/the kids. Thank God for a flexible employer!

Which means... no yoga, *and* no writing today. But the writing will happen tomorrow, and I will go to yoga next Tuesday.

Sheesh.

So much for Tuesdays

2010-02-08T12:28:00.002-05:00

Another 2010 goal of mine is to get back to yoga... I've been saying it now for 2 years and haven't done it. Now, an opportunity for Yogalates class has just presented itself. Not only is it cheap, but it's offered in 1/2 hour increments at my lunch hour across the street from where I work! And a couple of girls from the office are going too. It's a no-brainer.

The only problem? It's Tuesdays and Thursdays! So I'm switching up my "writing day" to Wednesdays now. Which leaves only 2 lunch hours a week to run errands... but I truly need to get some exercise again. I felt so much better overall, and slept better, when I was doing that regularly. I even felt sharper mentally.

Could it be that I get a novel done *and* get myself in shape, all in one year...? Stay tuned.

Writing the novel - Day 1

2010-02-02T13:44:00.002-05:00

Today I was able to crank out 4 ds pages of ideas for chapters/stories/situations for the characters. It was all just remembering the crazy stuff that happened. I thought I wouldn't remember much but it was flowing pretty well. One thing led to another, and another. I even was remembering people's names which never happens. So I think it was a pretty successful first day. Baby steps, baby steps. Next week: fleshing out one of the ideas into a page or two of narrative.

I'm realizing today, this is going to be a LONG book.

Back to writing

2010-02-01T10:27:00.003-05:00

And not just on here either. I've now designated each Tuesday's lunch hour to writing, so I can finally start on that book that's been in my head for years. I'm hoping that it will be therapeutic for me, and maybe some good writing will show up while I'm purging years of frustration & annoyance from my brain (left over from my previous life). I'm going to monitor my progress via Facebook status updates and on here, so come along with me while I venture down The Memory Highway of Hell and try to tell the story of what happened in my life between 1999 and 2005.

Yes it's sort of cheating to copy & paste something here, but it's cool

2009-06-19T13:07:00.007-05:00

Book promotion requires mix of old and new

Kimberly Maul

June 19, 2009

As book coverage in newspapers and magazines shrinks, but hundreds of thousands of new books continue to be published a year, book publicists have an increasingly challenging job. These publicists use a mix of traditional outreach and social media in an attempt to not only spread the word about new books, but also build up the reputation of an author.

"What sets book publicity apart is that we're promoting the books, but we're also promoting the author's career," says Tracy van Straaten, VP of publicity for Scholastic Trade Book Publishing.

Traditional tactics of in-person author events, trade shows like BookExpo America, and SMTs are still popular with publishers, who mostly handle publicity in-house. Publishers get galleys, or advanced reader copies, to send to both print and online reviewers, long-lead media outlets, and other influencers within book publicity, looking to build buzz, get reviews, and set up author interviews.

"We've worked with everyone from Oprah to all of the morning shows to all of the evening talk shows, to general interest magazines to hard-core book reviewers," says Dee Dee DeBartlo, senior director of publicity for William Morrow, an imprint of HarperCollins.

DeBartlo explains that all publicity for a book leads up to the on-sale date, but publicists should start building buzz well in advance of the publication.

Technology, though, continues to change old habits, including the way publishers send out review copies of books. "As the Kindle and other e-book readers proliferate, we're going to see more e-galleys," DeBartlo says.

"Start building a community for your book long before it comes out, up until it does, and even beyond that," adds Susannah Greenberg, president of Susannah Greenberg PR, who works only within the book publishing industry. She mentions several tactics that have increased in popularity in recent years, including creating book videos—sort of like movie trailers, but for books—and blog talk radio.

"Grassroots with books is really important because sometimes you want to go from the inside out and social media is a very large component right now," says Heidi Krupp-Lisiten,CEO of Krupp Kommunications, which started as a strictly book publicity agency and is now a full-service PR firm.

Stuart Applebaum, EVP and spokesman for Random House, encourages publicists to work with the editors of a book, to keep up with the status of the unpublished book and plan ahead with creative ideas.

"Editors keep our publicists well-informed," he says, "so [they] are ready to go with thought-out, constructive ideas utilizing both traditional and new communications tools."

- Start early by building up a community of fans prior to publication, which will help spread the word

- Mix both traditional book publicity strategies, like reviews and author tours, with social media and online tactics

Don't

- Don't confine outreach to book review pages. Look to other sections of the newspaper and position the author and book in ways to attract non-book coverage.

- Don't stop outreach after the on-sale date. Continue to build up the author as a personality or expert, which could pay off for future books and projects.

Kimberly Maul, Reporter

PRWeek http://www.prweek.com

Prank or a real crime?

2008-12-11T11:22:00.003-05:00

From Yahoo News this morning:

So far in 2008, Baby Jesus has appeared in several police reports.

At First United Methodist Church in Kittanning, Pa., a baby Jesus was stolen and replaced with a pumpkin. In Eureka Springs, Ark., someone who absconded with a plastic baby Jesus from a public display last week also took the concrete block and chain that was supposed to act as a deterrent.

Previously, stolen Jesus figurines have also been defaced with profanity or Satanic symbols.
The incidents raise a question: Is stealing Baby Jesus harmless juvenile fun, or anti-Christian?
"I suspect most of it is childish pranks," said attorney Mike Johnson of the Alliance Defense Fund, a conservative Christian legal group. "Clearly, there are adults with an agenda to remove Christ from Christmas. But they tend to occupy themselves with the courts and courtroom of public opinion."

Stephen Nissenbaum, a retired history professor at the University of Massachusetts Amherst and author of "The Battle for Christmas," views the thefts as neither innocent vandalism nor religious hate crimes.

"What it means is that it's OK to go around violating even pretty important norms, as long as real human harm isn't being done," he said. "It could be Christian kids doing it — and on Jan. 2 they become good Christians again."
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This is part of an article about how churches are using GPS devices implanted in their baby Jesus figurines, and other parts of large outdoor nativities, in order to track down the criminals/pranksters who take them year after year. Here's an idea--just chain all the figurines together. And/or permanently fix Baby Jesus into his manger in some way. Ideas for that include Super Glue, 4" galvanized deck screws, lag bolts.

Or just attach an anvil to each figurine; you can order them from ACME. That's what Wile E. Coyote, Genius, would do.

The waste is just incredible

2008-12-05T10:11:00.002-05:00

Detroit Police to burn 572 guns

BY TAMMY STABLES BATTAGLIA
December 5, 2008

In another shot at crime, the Detroit Police Department is burning 572 guns today, part of the more than 4,520 firearms confiscated from the hands of criminals during 2008.

Officers expect to display the guns for the media in the Detroit Police Department's Precinct 1 garage downtown at 8 a.m., then take the weapons to an undisclosed location to burn them.
The burn will be the last one of the year. The remaining weapons will be used as evidence to prosecute those who might have used them.

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Good grief. The least they could do is reuse the metal to build a homeless shelter... or recycle it into steel beams to build a house for Habitat.

Or, here's an idea suggested by another reader via comments on this story: sell each gun to a registered user (a non-criminal) for $500 and make over $2 million for the city! That would help the schools, the libraries... hell, it would pay for 25% of what Kwame spent on shutting up the policemen he fired. I just hope the next mayor of Detroit is not as embrassingly loose with taxpayer money and can at least clean up the mess. Anything more than that would be a true miracle.

Ethan update

2008-11-04T11:37:00.002-05:00

I've been remiss on keeping any updates going on this blog about our little guy.

Last weekend the two teeth that have been bothering him finally cut through - bottom lower, in the center. He looks cute with teeth. (OK, he looks cute anyway. :) ) He has taken to chewing on just about everything: his highchair tray, clothing, blankets, stuffed animals, the side of his binky, a finger, your hair... essentially anything he can get his hands on. He reaches out now - mostly with the right hand - to grab things with all four fingers and sort of scratch them toward himself. He's also started sleeping on his side and rolling to his side to play. He still won't sit up by himself but that's only because he wants to stand up instead.

He's also getting more protein now, with Gerber and Beech Nut turkey and chicken "dinners." He doesn't like them alone so I heat them up a little, mix them with any vegetable and then he chows. His eating has been off lately, sometimes he eats so much it's sort of freaky and other times he only wants formula. We've been trying the sippy cup here and there, with apple juice, and he seems to like playing with it. He does get some juice out of it, but not much. So far he's not had any reactions to any foods, which is a relief. He started on barley cereal a couple of days ago and seems to really like it.

He is telling big long stories now, with a lot of "blah blah blah" noises and sometimes singing "lalalalala." Occasionally we can get him laughing REALLY hard, but it's never when the video camera is on, of course. When the camera comes out, he notices it and seems to act differently. Hm, wonder where he got that??

We've had to elevate his head while he sleeps at night because he has been really congested (alternating with a runny nose too). With the mattress elevated, it comes right up to the edge of the crib rail (we keep it down). I think we'll be lowering the crib before the weekend; he'll be pulling himself up soon and don't want any mishaps.

I'm still sorting out some of the 3-6 month clothes, which don't fit, that keep surfacing in the laundry... I've got a huge tub in the basement just about full. He's definitely wearing 6 mo. stuff but there are a couple of 9 mo. size pieces he can wear. Everyone comments about how long he is now. Maybe just because he's so much bigger than he used to be! He and Katie are about the same weight but he is taller. Crazy!

Ben Stein says, don't panic (a year ago)

2008-10-23T08:42:00.002-05:00

Reprinted from Fortune.com... Note the date. I bet Ben Stein would say some of the same things today.
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"STUPID" INVESTORS, REJOICE!

Ben Stein. Fortune. New York: Sep 3, 2007. Vol. 156, Iss. 5; pg. 59

Copyright (c) 2007 Time Inc. All rights reserved. No part of this material may be duplicated or redisseminated without permission.

No one is too stupid to make money in the stock market. But there are many who are too smart to make money.

To make money, at least in the postwar world, all you have to do is buy the broad indexes domestically--both in the emerging world and in the developed world--and, to throw in a little certainty about your old age, maybe buy some annuities.

To lose money, pretend you're really, really clever, and that by reading financial journalism and watching CNBC, you can outguess the market day by day. Along with that, you must have absolutely no sense of proportion about money and the world at large.

For example, right now we are stewing over what everyone calls "the subprime mess" and going crazy, mourning all day and into the night--falling over ourselves to get all of the misery right, to paraphrase Evita. I'm writing this on Aug. 13, 2007, and in the past four or five weeks, the markets of the U.S. have lost some 7% of their value, or about $1 trillion.

But read on: The subprime mortgage world is about 15% of all mortgages, or $1.5 trillion worth, very roughly. About 10%--approximately $150 billion--is in arrears. Of that, something like half is in default and will likely be seized in foreclosure and sold. That comes to about $75 billion. Roughly half to two-thirds of that will be realized on liquidation, leaving a loss of maybe $37 billion. Not chump change by any means--but one-thirtieth, more or less, of what has been knocked off the stock market.

The "smart" investor nevertheless reads the papers, bails out, heads for the hills, and stocks up on canned foods. He gets a really big charge out of reading in the press that there are also problems in the mergers and acquisitions market and that some deals will not go through because there are problems raising the funds for the deal. He does not see that the total value of the U.S. major stock markets (the Wilshire 5000) is roughly $18 trillion. The value of the deals that have failed in the private equity world is in the tens of billions or less. The loss to investors--what the merger price was compared with the normalized premerger price--is in the billions. It's real money, and I could buy my wife some nice jewelry with it, but it's pennies in the national or global systems.

The "smart" investor also reads that the Fed has injected, say, $100 billion into the banking system in the last week or ten days, and says, "Aha! The whole country is vaporizing. Look how desperate the system is for money!" What he does not see is that the Fed is always either adding or subtracting liquidity and that recent moves are tiny in the context of a nation with a money supply in the range of $12 trillion. No, the "smart" investor is far too busy looking for reasons to run for cover and thinks he can outsmart long-term trends.

The stupid investor knows only a few basic facts: The economy has not had one real depression since 1941, a span of an amazing 66 years. In the roughly 60 rolling-ten-year periods since the end of World War II, the S&P 500's total return has exceeded the return on "risk-free" Treasury long-term bonds in all but four ten-year periods--the ones ending in 1974, 1977, 1978, and 2002. The first three of these were times of seriously flawed monetary policy that allowed stagflation, and the last one was on the heels of the tech crash and the worst peacetime terrorist attack in the history of the Western world.

The inert, lazy, couch potato investor (to use a phrase from my guru, Phil DeMuth, investment manager and friend par excellence) knows that despite wars, inflation, recession, gasoline shortages, housing crashes in various parts of the nation, riots in the streets, and wage-price controls, the S&P 500, with dividends reinvested, has yielded an average ten-year return of 243%, vs. 86% for the highest-grade bonds. That sounds pretty good to him.

The "smart" investor, in a bunker in the Montana wilderness, keeps his money in gold bullion. After all, he's heard that home prices are falling slightly nationwide and a lot in some areas (he ignores areas of rising prices like San Francisco and New York City). He says that this will discourage the consumer and lead to a severe, bottomless recession. He even has bald people on TV telling him he's right to worry.

The stupid investor, the guy who just lies on his couch, knows that the consumer is always about to stop buying and never quite does. Maybe someone in his bowling club has told him there has only been one year since 1959 when consumer spending fell--and that was barely, in 1980. Somehow, if the consumer could keep spending after the bursting of the tech bubble wiped out $7 trillion or so of wealth, maybe the consumer can keep spending even if the subprime "mess" wipes out roughly half of 1% of that tech-bubble loss and the stock market has a fit. And maybe he knows that, even if there is a recession, recessions rarely last more than two quarters, and the economy and the stock market revive mightily after that--and that buying stocks in a recession is a good idea, not a bad idea.

Now, the alert reader may at this point be saying, "Hey, that 'stupid' guy who's really smart is a long-term investor. That's why he's doing so well." Correctamundo, alert reader. There used to be a saying: "Bulls make money and bears make money, but hogs get slaughtered." I am not sure that was ever true, but it sure ain't now. The real story is that long-term investors who have some sense of proportion make money. Short-term investors who live and die by the sweep-second hand of the $300,000 watch get rich fast and poor fast and sometimes are slaughtered faster. I have no advice for them except that the next train may be bringing in someone a little younger who's a little faster on the draw and a lot hungrier, so they'd better enjoy their Gulfstream while they have it.

For the rest of us, the stock market is cheap on a price-earnings basis, profits are fabulous, Mrs. Clinton and Mr. Giuliani are far from being socialists and in the long run, both here and abroad, stocks are a lovely place to be. I have no idea what the S&P will be ten days from now, but I am confident it will be a lot higher ten years from now, and for most Americans, that's what we need to think about. The subprime and private equity and hedge fund dogs may bark, but the stock market caravan moves on.

A serious topic

2008-10-15T08:01:00.001-05:00

Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day: Take Action

October 15th is National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day in the United States. More than 25,000 children are stillborn in the United States every year leaving mothers, entire families and communities devastated. Estimates of the rate of occurrence of stillbirth make it at least as common as autism.

Stillbirth is not an intractable problem. Greater research would likely significantly reduce its incidence, but good research requires good data.

H.R. 5979: Stillbirth Awareness and Research Act is under consideration by Congress. This proposed bill would standardize stillbirth investigation and diagnosis, thus providing more data for the needed research. Better research means fewer children born still.

On October 15th, remember the thousands of unfinished children lost and the families who remain to grieve them. Honor them by taking action. Let's help pass H.R. 5979. Write to your congressman!!

I'm with Gigglechick - an undecided voter

2008-10-02T08:20:00.003-05:00

The one blog I read on a regular basis, http://www.gigglechick.com/erin/blog/index.htm, is a personal blog of a woman my age who lives in NJ. She lives with/takes care of her chronically ill mother while also trying to work at home, doing web design for comedians (hence the "giggle" part of her blog's name). She has a pretty interesting and social life, and every day struggles that she is brave enough to post out there for all to see. So maybe I am nosy, bored, or I'm just trying to live vicariously through her single life, I don't know.

Anyway, as I fell asleep last night I thought I had mostly made up my mind about who to vote for. But there are definitely limitations on each of the candidates and what they will actually be able to accomplish in Washington, and I'm not sure I agree on their stands on several issues. (I guess that is how most of the Presidential elections have gone the past few years -- vote the lesser of the two evils and hope for the best.)

So I thought I would check in with the Giggle blog today and see where she stood on this. She's been a pretty fervent Hillary supporter, and I decided a while back that I would just agree to disagree with her politics... up to this point. Surprisingly, today Giggle says this on her blog, and I am in complete agreement:

"I hope that Palin does well tonight, not because I am rooting for her, but, because if she looks like a complete moron and gets devoured by Biden tonight, it just sets women back. I am a woman without a party at the moment."

Palin seems to me, and has from her introduction to the election campaign, a loose cannon. She doesn't know what she doesn't know and that is a dangerous place to be in for a second-in-command political candidate. She can prep all she wants for this debate tonight, but until I hear her respond to a question with a straight answer, and I can tell it's coming from her and not some talking point she memorized, I just can't be impressed. I saw a few minutes of one of her interviews with Katie Couric last night. When Katie asked her to give some examples of Supreme Court decisions besides Roe v. Wade that she disagreed with, her eyes literally GLAZED OVER and you could tell she had no idea what to say. Then her response was some non-answer about how not all the decisions of the Supreme Court are going to be popular with everyone... no shit.

I just hope tonight that she uses her charm and wit and smile as a backdrop for a showcase of some real knowledge and analysis of issues; in other words, I hope she speaks intelligently. Not that that alone would convince me to vote for her ticket. I'd also have to hear some concrete plans on how her administration could get our domestic problems taken care of, and not just in the short-term. I want her to do well tonight because I don't want our gender to be embarrassed. We have finally made some headway as professional women in this country and I hope she doesn't send us back 30 years by talking like a moron in front of 70 million people.

This reminds me of "The Story of Pi" - only a better ending

2008-09-17T08:58:00.002-05:00

Riding out Ike on an island, with a lion

By ALLEN G. BREED, AP National Writer Tue Sep 16, 11:52 PM ET

BOLIVAR PENINSULA, Texas - Many years from now, a small group of Hurricane Ike survivors will probably still be telling the story of how, on the night the storm flattened their island, they took sanctuary in a church — with a lion.

The full-grown lion was from a local zoo, and the owner was trying to drive to safety with the animal when he saw cars and trucks stranded in the rising floodwaters. He knew he and the lion were in trouble.

He headed for the church and was met by a group of residents who helped the lion wade inside, where they locked it in a sanctuary as the storm raged. The water crept up to their waists, and two-by-fours came floating through broken windows. But the lion was as calm as a kitten.
When daylight came, everyone was still alive.

"They worked pretty well together, actually," said the lion's owner, Michael Ray Kujawa. "When you have to swim, the lion doesn't care about eating nobody."

At the Baptist church on Bolivar Island where the lion spent the night, Richard Jones, a shrimper, said he wasn't afraid of the beast.

"That little old fella is just as tame as a kitten," Jones said.

After the storm passed, the lion's caretakers fed it pork roast to keep it happy.

National Guardsmen dropping off food and water lined up Tuesday in the choir loft to get a glimpse of the lion, and the soldiers jumped back when the lion looked up from its perch on the altar and snarled.

Jones said he hadn't stepped foot in a church in the 40 years he has lived on this spit of land. And he wasn't ready to call his survival divine intervention. "I drink beer and chase women, gamble, cuss," Jones said. "You can't call that religion. I'm either too good, the devil won't have me, or I'm so bad the Good Lord won't take me. That's a good toss-up."

"Better to be pissed off than pissed on"

2008-08-27T15:08:00.002-05:00

OK... This post has been rattling around in my head for a while and I "just can't take no more."

Where has all the bathroom etiquette gone??

The last few days here at the office, when I've gone into our floor's ladies room, EVERY TIME, I have walked into a stall that either has:

1) leftovers in the toilet--EWWWWWWWWWWWWW!
2) residuals in the toilet -- almost as bad as item #1, or
3) a giant wad of toilet paper that didn't flush

Ladies... take a look behind you when you're done flushing. It won't take long -- give 'er a second courtesy flush, for all concerned, if you're in doubt that your "extras" willl go down the pipes. This includes you germaphobes who use the tissue-paper "seat covers." Like those keep you from "getting" anything.

On a related note, wipe off the seat if you leave anything there. You know who you are.

And how have these same people, who can't seem to get the concept of flushing what should not be left for others, need a SECOND garbage can in the vestibule between the bathroom entry doors for their "I don't want to touch the door handle" paper towels? Not only is this ridiculously wasteful - even if we do use 60% post-consumer content hand towels - you're still going to get the same damn germs from passing intercompany mail around, touching the copier buttons, the elevator buttons and all the OTHER door handles in the place. I'm all for washing your hands and that seems to be happening, but really.

As for discussions in the bathroom between stalls... keep it free of swears, evil gossip, details of your child's delivery/any one else's terrible birthing stories, gory descriptions of health issues you or others may be having, etc. We'd all prefer that you just didn't talk at all. Do your thing and get out. Neatly.

(HUH!) Researcher says bigfoot just a rubber gorilla suit

2008-08-21T15:23:00.000-05:00

By JUANITA COUSINS, Associated Press Writer Wed Aug 20, 1:22 AM ET

ATLANTA - Turns out Bigfoot was just a rubber suit.

Two researchers on a quest to prove the existence of Bigfoot say that the carcass encased in a block of ice — handed over to them for an undisclosed sum by two men who claimed to have found it — was slowly thawed out, and discovered to be a rubber gorilla outfit.

The revelation comes just days after a much ballyhooed news conference was held in California to proclaim that the remains of the creature found in the North Georgia mountains was the legendary man-ape.

Steve Kulls, executive director of squatchdetective.com and host of Squatchdetective Radio, says in a posting on a Web site run by Bigfoot researcher Tom Biscardi that as the "evidence" was thawed, the claim began to unravel as a giant hoax.

First, the hair sample was burned and "melted into a ball uncharacteristic of hair," Kulls said in the posting.

The thawing process was sped up and the exposed head was found to be "unusually hollow in one small section." An hour of thawing later and the feet were exposed — and they were found to be made of rubber.

Uh-huh. "Bigfoot’s press conference reveals possum DNA"

2008-08-19T09:19:00.002-05:00

By BOB KEEFE Cox News Service
Friday, August 15, 2008

PALO ALTO, Calif. — Bigfoot lived in North Georgia, and his cousins are still there. That’s what a pair of Clayton County outdoorsmen claim.

But if they have definitive evidence to prove it, it wasn’t presented at a press conference here Friday where they had said they would make believers out of everyone. Dozens of mostly skeptical reporters showed up, lured by a flurry of interest in the story since pictures of the supposed discovery hit the Internet late last month.

Matthew Whitton and Rick Dyer said a second round of DNA testing (on what they claim is a dead 7-foot bigfoot they say they stumbled upon while hiking in June in North Georgia) is still being completed.

Of three samples in a preliminary DNA test, one came back inconclusive, one contained traces of human DNA and one had traces of opossum DNA -- probably from something the creature ate, they said.

They didn’t produce a body -- that’s in a hidden location, they said, after being moved from a freezer that broke down a couple of times. They also wouldn’t say exactly where they found the creature, and where they claimed they saw a band of others watching them. And they won’t let anyone but their own hand-picked scientists examine the body.

And hell is freezing over tomorrow.

2008-08-15T13:09:00.003-05:00

Two men in Georgia claim they've found Bigfoot, and are supposedly doing a news conference on it later today. Hey, it could be real. But I liked this article's sarcastic tone.
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http://www.usatoday.com/news/nation/2008-08-15-bigfoot_N.htm?csp=34

Another golf post...can you tell I'm going through withdrawal?

2008-08-11T10:18:00.002-05:00

This is pretty cool!

GAYLORD, Mich.

For somebody who'd been playing golf 50 years and never had a hole-in-one, Bob Hickey got the hang of it quickly. The 66-year-old Grayling man used a 7-iron to card his first-ever ace Thursday on the 167-yard 10th hole at Marsh Ridge in Gaylord. Then Hickey used an 8-iron to ace the 147-yard 17th hole.

According to a 2000 Golf Digest article cited by the Traverse City Record-Eagle, the odds of one player making two holes-in-one during the same round are 67 million to 1. Hickey, who finished at 2-over-par 74, says he'd made two eagles but never came close to a hole-in-one before Thursday. The long-haul trucker says he thinks he benefited from "just pure luck."
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Information from: Traverse City Record-Eagle, http://www.record-eagle.com

Post #70!! I heart Beth Lisick

2008-07-14T18:29:00.002-05:00

(Wow, I just realized I've got a lot of postings here!)

The book I've been reading recently is "Helping Me Help Myself" by Beth Lisick. She is awesome and my new hero(ine?). This book is a documentary of her 12 months of self-help guru work. Each month she picked one area of her life to improve upon and enlisted the help of an "expert" in the field to get some advice from. Of course, she is very sarcastic about a lot of it because at first she is skeptical that this will work. But as the year goes on you can tell there was a change in her; she seems more accepting of just about everything, and definitely relaxes her uptight feelings about a lot of things. She has what the mainstream calls an "irreverent attitude" - my favorite kind of writing. Caustic and bitter, which is funny.

I heard her speak at the WNBA event in SF about six weeks ago, and she was hilarious. She had a great speech about waiting for the "right time" to start writing, if you have a block. There is no right time, and whatever is going on with you, write about it. Someone will appreciate good work eventually. It doesn't hurt to network too. If she needs another career (but it sounds like she doesn't from her book) she could be a stand-up comedian. I went to her website and lo and behold she does voice-over work, poetry slams, avant garde indie films with friends and performance art too. www.bethlisick.com Visit her site, buy her books!! You will not be disappointed.

I don't know when I will golf again...

2008-07-09T19:19:00.002-05:00

In a burst of enthusiasm about my golfing, my sweet darling wonderful husband bought me a brand new Titleist golf bag for my birthday in November. This is under the assumption of my being able to get out of the house one day a week for a league or something, once spring came around. Well, we didn't count on my getting about 1/8 of a paycheck each week through the winter, or my having to look for a new job come spring.

And we had no idea what we were in for in terms of time-consuming parenthood. Here is a "typical" night for us.

- We both arrive at home about the same time, greeting with a kiss.
- I get all the baby stuff and other miscellany out of my car and Scott gets E out of the car for me.
- We let Dudley out and let him run around squeaking his toy in blissful greeting.
- Dirty bottles, nipples, bottle covers etc. go to the sink. We also put our travel mugs in the sink, along with any dirty Tupperware we used for lunch.
- I set E on his playmat and he kicks and giggles like usual.
- Scott pours us each a nice drink - lately mine have been delicious gin & Squirt, thanks to a recent dinner guest who brought us some good stuff (thanks again Mike... I was sort of kidding when I said, "Bring gin.")
- I read over the day care sheet and see what we're up against in terms of sleep and food for E.
- Scott changes his clothes and goes outside to start the grill (because 90% of the time we're eating something grilled in the summer). Dudley follows, because... he does.
- My mom calls to talk about some logistics for the weekend.
- I take the dirty crib sheet off E's crib and take his dirty clothes downstairs. I also take our hamper downstairs.
- Tonight we're planning a trip to a family reunion for the weekend, so we need to take the back seat out of the van. In order to do this, the van needs to be in the driveway. But it can't be there because there's a giant limb from the tree that fell there (that's another story). Scott gets the chain saw out and takes care of that. Then he moves the van and gets the seat out.
- Meanwhile I start a load of laundry, taking E with me downstairs. E does not seem to enjoy the atmosphere in the basement, so we get out of there ASAP.
- Scott starts getting the burgers together, and pours some frozen green beans into a bowl for microwaving. He also feeds Dudley. Dudley won't eat his food until he sees Scott eating some chips.
- I grab a half-full bottle of formula from the day care bag and fill it with more formula to feed E. - Scott and I chat about our days at work.
- E seems hungry even after 4 more ounces of formula so I decide to make some rice cereal for him. Scott gets it together for me and I feed E in the living room while Scott eats dinner sitting on the couch.
- Scott starts reading some of the awesome book I am almost done with; he finds it as amusing as I do. Big surprise! :)
- After the cereal, E seems much happier and even starts giggling. I put away the leftovers for lunch tomorrow, and start the dishes while Scott entertains E.
- E starts fussing before I am done with the dishes, so superdad changes him, and puts PJs on him. While this is happening, I am reminded that I need to finish putting a crib sheet on the crib mattress, and I do that, but only after I realize what I thought was the crib sheet is actually for the pack and play.
- Scott puts E in the crib; he thrashes around for about 5 minutes and goes to sleep.
- Scott goes outside to clean up the yard and mow the really overgrown lawn (we've had a lot of rain). He moves a ladder, sawhorses, the recycling bin, and garbage cans before he can mow.
- I finish the dishes and realize as the water is draining that I need to go to the bathroom.
- I make E's bottles and rice cereal for tomorrow; he's going to Aunt Kim's for the day and not daycare because it's Thursday. I take an inventory of the diaper bag and restock a couple of things. Then I make sure his bouncy seat and playmat are next to the car seat with everything else; Aunt Kim's house doesn't have baby stuff anymore so it's BYO.
- I go to the basement and realize the washer has not actually done a spin cycle. But it rinsed. So I put it on spin and take the contents of the dryer upstairs to fold (they've been sitting there for a couple of days at least).
- While I am folding, Scott comes in from outside and tells me the yard waste bag that I filled up the other day and left in the yard has disintegrated in the recent soaking rains, and he needs me to come help him put the yard waste into another bag, and then store that in the garage, so he can finish mowing that part of the lawn.
- I change out of my work clothes and help him outside. While I am out there, I do some weeding in the front yard. I realize some of the perennial seeds I planted are finally coming up.
- Scott finishes mowing the lawn.
- I go to the basement to change out the load of laundry. While that's working, I decide to document this nutty lifestyle of ours on this blog.
- Scott comes in from his work outside and says, "Jimmy crack corn and I don't care." I have no idea what this means.
- He makes himself a mojito with some of the fresh mint growing behind our grill. I get some white zin out of the fridge for myself.
- While Scott is opening the wine for me he realizes he probably has bugs in his hair from being outside.
- Scott calls his parents to make sure they can take the dog overnight Saturday while we're out of town.
- Scott also calls to confirm up plans to go fishing with an old highschool friend.
- We settle in on the couch to watch some DVR recordings (usually Family Guy or Whose Line Is It Anyway) because we no longer have satellite TV service. There's nothing much on anyway.
- I'm sure we'll be in bed by 10.

I don't know when I thought I was going to golf.

The Amazing One-Handed Parents

2008-06-27T06:02:00.003-05:00

My husband and I are becoming experts at doing things with one hand. We have now mastered the making-a-bottle-with-crying-child in one arm; that's old hat. But we've developed one-handed expertise that we never thought about before. While I was out of town for a weekend recently, he made himself a gourmet breakfast - flipping eggs and cooking bacon - all while holding the baby in the other arm. I've loaded the washer with laundry with just the left hand, caught the remote after my husband tossed it across the room to me (this is a small miracle in itself), and picked up a pacifier from under the baby swing, all while holding E. I've gotten so good that last night my husband tossed his truck keys to me, and I instinctively raised my left hand - even though I'm a righty - and grabbed them with the skill of a professional baseball player.

Throwing things, I still need to work on, however.

The new job update

2008-06-19T06:08:00.005-05:00

So I started my new job yesterday. Full-time, good pay with benefits and everything. I could not have a more different experience than what I came from! Pleasant people who communicate kindly with each other and who seem to have some fun together too. And all the tea/hot chocolate I can drink. Not a bad gig.

I am in the Creative Services Department, which means we have 3 copywriters/promotions managers and 3 graphic designers. We create materials for both sales and marketing departments so they can go to trade shows with information pieces and do their sales-y thing. We also write up email blasts and web copy. Thank God I don't have to do sales anymore. I am just not a good salesperson.

The first day was your typical day... got a temporary badge so I can access the building, turned in all the tax paperwork, direct deposit form, parking form, etc. I was also handed a bag of Company P swag (insulated lunch bag, coffee cup, mouse pad, coasters, pen/notepad, and sticky notes). Then I was shown to my cubicle, which actually is in the shape of a stretched out hexagon. The cube dividers are translucent walls and mesh, so we can all see each other and hear each other. But it gives the feeling of privacy. I have a laptop with a desktop docking station, and a large monitor. They even gave me a laptop case. I have a small table in there (about the size of an end table) that can move around for various needs. There is also a locker in my cube, so I can hang up my coat/sweater, and a little shelf for my purse. I have three big drawers and two deep shelves to put personal stuff in as well.

While I was getting settled, I realized there was a basket of homemade chocolate chip cookies on the file cabinet outside my office with a "Welcome, Shannon!" sign (note the punctuation, only copywriters do that). My boss came by and asked how I liked them, and I hadn't tried one yet, then she said she made them for me! One by one just about every person in the department came by for a cookie and to introduce themselves. Several people were out at a trade show and won't be back until next week. (There were a couple of people right off I could tell I will get along with great, and a couple of people I wasn't so sure of. They also will remain nameless.)

C, another copywriter, asked where I was from and when I said Milan, she said she was too! Through the morning we ended up exchanging emails with a couple of other "Milanites" about the high quality of the fireworks display for the 4th. C had applied for a copywriter job at the other company I used to be at, while I was there, and didn't get the job but she said she recognized me from the interview process.

So then I went and got some office supplies from the copy room, got a nickel tour of the place from my boss and saw the cafeteria/Starbucks, and then called the Help Desk so I could log into my computer. I had email already, since they started copying me on some meeting requests (there's a weekly status meeting). I responded to some of those, and to a couple of "Sorry I am not in the office, but welcome to the group!" emails. I found out there that one of the graphic designers had a baby by emergency c-section Tuesday night... apparently she named her son Indiana. Yes, that's right, like the character in the movies. Everyone's OK and she'll be back in 3-4 months. Until then we all have to step up and take over some of her work.

L, the other copywriter, sent me a lengthy email after lunch with some hyperlinks to the network drives, and some internal links to the intranet so I could explore some product descriptions and even try out some of the genealogy databases. I spent the rest of the day doing that. I tried finding some Maclarens, which I did, and my great-grandmother, which took a bit longer, but finally I did (I kept spelling her first name wrong). She was in the 1930 census in Hesperia, MI. Interesting to note that she was 39 at the time. I found out her exact date of death (August 25, 1979), which I didn't know before.

I also met with C to take over a weekly e-newsletter, which is a sales-based info piece. Gathering the content seems to be the hard part, but I think I have an idea for an incentive to get around that. Free candy bars to all, if ALL of them get their stuff in on time. It will cost me a few bucks since there are 18 people contributing, but I doubt it will happen each week. And for consecutive weeks that all of them get their stuff in on time, the incentives will get better. I don't know what I will do after that, but if we can get this going, I think it will work in the long run.

The best part of this job, the hours: 9:00-4:30!

And the per-gallon price of gas is going to...

2008-05-16T12:02:00.000-05:00

one MILLION dollars.

Hey, I met someone sorta famous

2008-05-13T06:56:00.005-05:00

This past weekend we went to Loftfest, a celebration of 20 years of (our good buddy) Andy Patalan's recording studio. There were about 20 bands there on three stages throughout the night; we enjoyed several of them. But the most hilarious part of our evening was dinner beforehand, on the patio of this bar in Pontiac, where we met Bob Guiney (AKA, Bob the Bachelor from the show "The Bachelor") and hung out with our friend Terri Neely too.

Andy plays in Bob's band (the Bob Guiney Band, formerly called Fat Amy) so naturally Bob's band played at the show. The band was OK, mostly because Bob can only sing OK. Of course the guitar players were awesome. :)

So anyhoo, Bob was a really down to earth guy, quite charming and funny, and better looking than I remembered (yes, I watched the show he was on...). He brought his BIL and cousin with him to the show, and the three of them were telling stories on each other, mostly about vacations they had taken together. I wish I had a picture of the three of them because they were certainly a motley crew. But the funniest part of meeting him was that I had seen him on "The View" a few days before and I told my mom I was going to meet him. Here's the proof!

I love spring!!

2008-04-25T18:23:00.002-05:00

Not only is this kid cute, he's smart too.

I am really enjoying spring this year, and not solely for the reason pictured here, although that is part of it. I think I am noticing things more; things that normally I wouldn't have had time to look for. I saw the tulips and daffodils bud and grow and bloom this year. It seems every day the buds on the bushes and trees are getting larger, and the lilies are growing like crazy. I am feeling the financial crunch of being partly out of work but it is nice to spend time outside these days just doing nothing, watching my dog sniff around and holding my son. And I don't feel guilty about it at all.

I am coming to the end of my SAHM days, and actually that's OK. I think if I had to spend the next year worrying about money and mostly confined to the house all day with just my son to talk to... well, my brain would go to mush in short order.

How to know if you're watching too much TV

2008-04-09T20:23:00.002-05:00

I've fallen asleep several times this past week with commercial jingles in my head, over and over, making me feel like I am crazy. The one that was driving me really crazy was "Activia," that sing-songy way to say the word. Then it was "588-2300, Empire" - the carpet people. But last night it was "Five dollar footloooo-ng" - the new Subway ads. You'd think with my background in advertising that I'd find it entertaining, but it's just plain annoying. I think I need to cut back on the TV watching.

A foot in two worlds

2008-04-07T15:28:00.004-05:00

One summer when I was a kid, my grandparents took me on a trip to the U.P. of Michigan. I stood under the Mackinaw Bridge in the water, saying "Look, I'm standing in Lake Michigan and Lake Huron at the same time." I thought that was pretty cool. But now that I am a mom, a parent, someone responsible for a small person who relies on me for everything, I don't know if I like that feeling so much.

I feel like I have a split personality lately. I have been vascillating between "Ohmygosh I can't get enough of looking into his eyes and I don't want to set him down, I just want to hold him all the time, he's so awesome" and "When can I put him down and get my life back to what it was before?" Which of course, won't happen... life has changed into something else now and I can't go back. But I haven't figured out what that is yet, because I don't know. There's no plan, no guidebook, no instruction manual, no agenda.

I find myself wishing the time away. When we're up in the middle of the night, I check the clock a lot, looking to see how long he's been eating, estimate when he might be done, how long it might take to burp him and then when he might sleep... because that's when I can sleep. Then I want to skip ahead to the sleeping part, particularly if I get a chance to actually sleep in my own bed next to my husband. But then the other part of me says, "Don't wish the time away; then it will go too fast and before you know it he'll be walking and talking and telling you NO and you'll say 'where did the time go?'" I might sleep through the whole night again someday, but for now I'd appreciate one night a week where I am not interrupted and don't have a child sleeping on me. Of course, holding him with both arms while he sleeps and makes that little snoring noise, is just the best whole feeling I've ever had. It also makes me wonder what I ever did with all my free time before.

And I can't wait for the time when he is older and we can take him to do something fun like picking berries or going to a museum, but I also appreciate the portability of his size right now. I look forward to the day that he can dress himself and feed himself, and tell me what he's thinking. But I like the fact that I have some control over what he eats and wears right now, considering I don't have much control over when he eats yet or how often I have to change his clothes.

I'm straddling two worlds in several ways. I also can't wait to lose the weight I gained... although I have lost some, I'm still about 5 pounds up from the day we got married, and even then, I wanted to lose 20 pounds. I'm trying to squeeze into my old clothes, because the maternity clothes are too big. But the old clothes are still a bit small.

I want to get back to work, because I need the intellectual stimulation... but also because we have some stuff to pay off and keep payments up on. The other part of me also wants to just go to play dates with my son and drink caffeinated stuff at a cafe with other moms and chat about whatever.

After talking to a girlfriend and also my sister this weekend, I discovered that I am not alone in this feeling and that it will probably continue. I guess this whole experience of being a parent will make me learn how to react to things "on the fly" and be more flexible. At least, that's what I can hope for.

A few pictures of us & our cute kid

2008-03-17T16:18:00.003-05:00

Sliding into motherhood

2008-03-17T15:56:00.003-05:00

I've been composing this post in my head for a couple of weeks now.

-------------

Tomorrow will mark three weeks since I had a baby. It was not supposed to happen the way it did, emergency C-section and all, but everyone is OK and that's all that really matters. Because our son (still weird to say that) was 6 weeks premature, he has been in the NICU since birth. We've been visiting every day, sometimes twice. At first I had to be wheeled in to the hospital and up to the unit because of my surgery and high blood pressure, and because I was utterly exhausted from healing up. Everyone is saying, you're sort of lucky that you get this time to heal up, otherwise you'd be healing up and taking care of a newborn. I guess it's true. I do feel better than I did three weeks ago but I also am not sure about this time being an advantage over other people's experiences.

I think my husband said it best: Most people have a couple of days of excitement around the time of a new baby being born, particularly their first. Then they bring the baby home and all that excited feeling turns into nervous feeling. Doubting one's ability to take care of this squalling few pounds of person that you love more than anything even though you know nothing about them. It's all a guessing game - Why is the baby crying? Diaper? needs to be held? gas? tired and doesn't want to sleep? scared of a noise? And it's up to you to figure it out and solve the problem ASAP.

We've now had three weeks of up and down and back up again, while we watch our little guy go from an isolette to a little crib, and cross our fingers each time he got to a feeding. At first I wasn't sure I was bonding or connecting with him, but that went away as soon as I was able to nurse. I even say to myself each time I have to sit down and express milk on the dreaded pump: "This is for Ethan," and it doesn't hurt as much. One night last week as I sat holding him, waiting for Scott to arrive at the hospital, I looked at Ethan's little relaxed sleeping face and just about burst into tears, from the sudden rush of love I had for this little guy. As I was telling Scott, I love him simply because he's here, on this earth, not because I know anything about his personality to love, like I would normally for an adult I would meet.

Last night he was circumcised and it just about tore my heart out to hear him wailing ... I felt completely inept. But finally he was soothed and took some food, then collapsed into a limp sleep on Scott's lap.

I've been referring to my parents as mom and dad for 37 years... but now they are grandma and grandpa and I am the mom, Scott is the dad... I need to retrain the brain into using these labels. I also have to remember that there is help when I need it, and to ask for it. I am not good at that, so I will have to work on that too.

I can't make this stuff up

2008-02-10T10:27:00.000-05:00

So I am sitting in the teeny tiny coffee shop here in Milan, The Lighthouse Cafe, finishing up that newsletter copy that is now overdue... Scott is painting the baby's room so I can't be around the fumes for a few hours. When I got here at 9 a.m., there were just three other people here. I figured that would be it, since it's like 2 degrees out today, with gale force winds.

But more have wandered in here since, including a woman I assumed either had Alzheimers or wasn't all there... I mean, you can tell something's just off with her. Big thick Coke bottle glasses, shuffles when she walks, and has the worst hat hair I've ever seen. Wearing an old cardigan sweater and sweatpants, with thick socks and beat up sneakers. She seems to be a regular because she was chatting a while with the owner (at least the guy I assume to be the owner) about it being OK to "practice." No idea what she's talking about.

Of course, I'm all comfy here in the corner on a fairly nice couch with a pillow behind me, laptop on what lap I have left, and I didn't even notice the piano in front of me until she sat down at it. She propped up what seems to be a beginner piano book, and starts playing "How Much is That Doggie in the Window," then "Amazing Grace," "On Top of Spaghetti," "Put Your Head on My Shoulder" and few other short pieces. The guys behind the counter both encouraged her after almost every song at first, and she just waved them off, smiling a little. Real basic, playing slowly but not too badly; she's definitely not any better than I am on piano. But she's got the cohones to sit in a public place and practice, which I don't! I don't even like to practice in private, because I can't stand to hear myself screw up the music like I do. She is talking to herself as she practices, griping about having to turn the page in the middle of a song, and making comments like, "Oh I see, it's a flat..."

I think the piano playing is annoying to the people at the booth next to me, three yuppie-type young people who are chatting about either homework or a business plan... they keep looking over at her with raised eyebrows and singing along sort of condescendingly. The guy sitting at the table looks EXACTLY like a guy that used to date a suitemate/roommate of mine at EMU, I remember her name being Allison (but we frequently just called her bitch because she NEVER cleaned the bathroom and was having loud sex all the time with whoever would sleep with her). She was in the band at EMU and played clarinet, I think. I am tempted to go over and ask him if he ever dated anyone named Allison, but he looks so young, I don't know if it could be him. I have no clue what his name was... I do remember him being a nice guy though.

Women's National Book Association

2008-01-21T16:00:00.000-05:00

Did I mention I've taken on just one more volunteer thing? I'm now the editor for the national newsletter, Bookwoman, which is part of the Women's National Book Association. I'm in the process of doing reminders to everyone to get me their chapter news and announcements before the end of this month... but of course I'm behind in the assignments I have for myself. A whole folder full of stuff arrived from the former editor that I still need to review, I committed to four separate long articles for the main body of the newsletter, and although they are drafted, they're certainly not done.

My parents are coming to visit this weekend so I won't get much done then. And that leaves just a few days between now and the end of the month. Next month we have baby birthing class on Tuesday nights and yoga continues on Wednesdays... so it's time for time-organizing again. I hate that. But it's pretty necessary.

Baby, baby!

2008-01-06T18:01:00.001-05:00

I have really tried to make an effort not to be the whiny pregnant girl... but today I'm having some of those round ligament pains - both sides of my stomach - and the back is hurting pretty good too. It makes me tired. I took some Tylenol - also something I am trying to avoid - but it just took the edge off the ligament pains and did nothing for the back. And it made me more tired. So now we're home from yet another family Christmas, which was fun, but we had to be the party poopers because I just couldn't take the discomfort.

We've also started readying the baby room, in earnest. I took out two more tubs of clothes from the room and another bag for the Goodwill. Tubs go downstairs with the many others that are already there. Then the bookcase in the living room was emptied out, and moved into baby's room. My desk will move to the other side of the living room at some point, and boxes of books, videos and CDs will go, guess where, yup... the basement. A pile of books will also find a new home at the Milan library. Scott calls it making the house "lean." It's definitely less cluttery.

Plans for doing the baby registry at Target and/or Babies R Us are set for next weekend. I am trying to get together with my friend Kim to get a list of invitees for one of the baby showers...and we both want to do some baby clothes shopping at a couple of the boutique-y type places in Ann Arbor.

Pretty overwhelming to think there will soon be another person living here, someone who can't do anything for themselves, relying solely on us for all the things they need. Dudley is sort of like that but we don't have to spend half an hour feeding him or dressing or bathing him ... we have a lot of adjusting to do.

Up half the night (guess I should get used to it)

2007-12-23T05:14:00.000-05:00

I woke up at 2 a.m. to being kicked, not violently but definitely kicked. Then some rain started, pretty heavy. The rain quit then the neighbors' dogs started barking so I got a little worried that there was a burglar in the area. (I also fantasized about yelling out the back door, "Shut your damn dogs up already.")

So I let Dudley out, figuring if there was anyone within a one-block radius, he'd let me know by going after them. He just went out to pee, so apparently no one was out there. I tried to go back to sleep but my wonderful husband was snoring a bit, and I kept smelling the smoky barbecue on him from earlier today. Normally neither thing would keep me so completely awake but tonight it did. Then the dogs, the kicking, and the rain all started in again, and to top it all off I was too hot.

I gave up and got out of bed, really hoping that the clock would say 6 a.m. and I would be justified in getting up, since I passed out on the couch before 9 last night. But no such luck; it was 3 a.m. I decided to read the rest of my book, "Haunted Ground" by Erin Hart. Gotta remember to take that one to mom, she'll enjoy it.

Now it's almost 5:30 a.m., I'm done with the book and trying to figure out if I should get some work done or just surf the Net.

The wind and rain are alternating now; at one point I heard a waterfall coming off the front gutter and downspout.

I'm hungry (when am I not anymore?) so I think I will get some cereal and finish up my data entry for work. Maybe that will get me back to sleep for a little while before we need to get up for church.

We planned on going to the mall today -- yes we are a little crazy -- but I think we can skip it because I thought of a couple of ideas for gifts that my sweet husband can get me, and they do not involve the mall in any way. I was the only one left he had to shop for. Plus I need to find an easy mousse recipe online so I can take my fabulous chocolate cups for the Christmas Eve bash at the relatives'.

Today's musings

2007-12-03T11:43:00.000-05:00

It's a very blustery day, as Pooh would say. Dudley keeps barking at the wind howling around the house (between naps of course).

Lots of little things happening lately... went to my dr. appt today and everything is progressing normally. I'm 24 weeks and 2 days now. No hiding the fact that I am having a baby at this point! I even had to upgrade to the "fat" maternity clothes. But I am still only 1 pound over my pre-wedding weight. The dr. said I probably won't make the 35-pound weight gain goal by the time the due date rolls around but as long as I keep with the 1-2 pounds a week gain, that's OK. My mom says it's not fair; apparently she gained 50 pounds with each of her pregnancies. But my sister hasn't gained a lot with any of hers, so I think I must be on track. Today when the nurse put the heart monitor on my belly, the heartbeat was good and strong like usual, and then I was hearing this other noise, like a thump, in the monitor. The nurse laughed and said that was the sound of the baby kicking, right at the spot where she was holding the monitor's wand.

Work is getting interesting. We have discovered there is a huge demand for children's books in Arabic. Now the fun part is finding out if we did translate even ONE book into Arabic, how to pay for the new illustrations, the translator, new printing and then guarantee sales to cover those expenses. Not an easy task. I found a few Arabic language book sites online but the quality of the illustrations is just not there. I think we'd do quite well with one of our books particularly; but heck, if there's that much of a demand for anything in Arabic for kids, we could do any one of our books and it would probably sell great. We'll see what comes of all that. I told the boss, find us a way to pay for this stuff and we will get it cranking. She wants guaranteed sales first though. I don't think I can promise that or deliver it.

Trying to get some of the Christmas shopping list completed for the family... a few more gift cards and a couple of specialty things and we'll be done. We don't have the tree up yet and I already have some packages for under the tree! Hopefully we can get some decorations up before this coming weekend.

Meanwhile... the mouse genocide continues in the garage. Thanks to Scott's genius idea to make the mousetrap we have a "hair-trigger," it's us 17, mice, 0. We're thinking we've got most of the mice that would have camped out in the storage area of the garage for the the winter. Hopefully the word has spread through town via the mouse network to stay away from our place -- it's no longer the posh digs it once was!

A new story - it came to me in a dream!

2007-11-18T08:55:00.001-05:00

I hate when people say this, but it really happened... this story came to me as I was trying to sleep early this morning.
------------------------------------
THE SWEAT LODGE

They sat in complete silence. Dad didn’t like to be interrupted when he was doing his sweat lodge. That’s what he called it, even though it was a sauna. The sauna was its own little building at the start of the orchard path, but close to the house. Shawna liked to sit in there with her dad, but she brought a toy with her because Dad didn’t want her talking to him. She would just talk to her toy, inside her head.

She’d been in the sweat lodge with Dad a lot of times but she still wasn’t quite used to the heat and closeness of it. It was a small room with no windows, except for a piece of dark glass in the middle of the door that you couldn’t see out of. They’d found it in the dirt when they were raking and leveling the ground for the sauna, and Shawna asked if they could use it in the building. Dad said that would be a good use of it, like the ancestors using all the parts of the deer in the olden days.

Tonight, Shawna’s toy was a doll mom bought her at WalMart. Dad didn’t like them shopping there because he said they weren’t fair to their workers. But mom said they didn’t have much of a choice because they didn’t grow money on trees, just apples. Shawna liked the doll anyway, because it had darker skin and long shiny black hair like her, and you didn’t see a lot of dolls like that. It had a pretty dress on too, and little red shoes. She’d been trying to get the shoes off since mom bought it for her. Tonight in the sauna, she managed to get one of them off. But her hands were sweaty and she dropped the shoe between the slats of the top bench she was sitting on, and it fell to the floor. She set her doll down on her bench, and climbed down to the bottom bench, where Dad was sitting on the other side, by the wall. He didn’t move or acknowledge her.

Shawna spotted the red shoe at the back wall, and crawled under the bench to retrieve it. She turned around to climb back up and realized the stones needed to be wetted. Being eight going on nine, she felt very grown-up when she helped with this step. Dad showed her the right way to do it and she was careful not to splash the water from the cup.

She was starting to feel a little claustrophobic so she decided to step outside for a minute. Fresh steam followed her as she went out the door. Dad said she could leave when she needed to if it was just the two of them, but if she was in the sauna with other grown-ups that she would need to stay in the whole time they were there. Some grown-ups didn’t like kids going in and out and letting out all the steam. But Dad didn’t care if she went outside sometimes.

In early September, it was still light this time of evening. Dad said that was because of where they lived. He said that in this part of the country with the time change, it stayed lighter longer. Shawna didn’t know why the sun being out late had anything to do with the clocks in their house, but Dad knew a lot of things, and she was pretty sure he was right. The sauna didn’t get a lot of use through the summer while Dad was busy working in the orchard, getting just the right combinations of fertilizers and bug sprays on the apple trees. Once school started again, and the apples were ready to pick, he spent more time in the sauna because they had all the pickers come in and do the work.

In the dimming light, Shawna could see that there was someone in the orchard. She squinted to see if the person had a picking bag with them, if it was one of the workers coming in from the back acreage. From his size, she was pretty sure it wasn’t one of the women, and she didn’t see a bag in his hand. He seemed to be walking towards the sauna. Something didn’t seem right and she got scared.

She went back inside the sauna and said quietly, “Daddy, there’s someone in the orchard.” Her voice wavered a little bit, even though she was trying to be brave.

Her father opened his eyes and turned his head to her slowly. “Do you know who it is?”

“No,” she said, shaking her head. She climbed up to the top bench and tightly hugged her doll, who had one shoe still missing.

“I’ll take a look,” he said, getting up from the bench, patting her leg as he stood. His waist and thighs covered with a bright white towel, which seemed to glow in contrast to his summer-darkened skin, he stepped out the door. As the door opened, Shawna saw the very big man already a few feet away from the sauna. The sun had begun setting quickly and it had started getting cooler; Shawna saw steam coming off her dad as he walked from the building. Her father stopped in front of the man and took his regular stance, crossing his arms over his chest.

Shawna got down from the bench and listened at the glass. She could only hear that they were arguing. Or, the big man was trying to get her dad to argue with him. Her mom always said it was impossible to get Dad to argue with anyone, because he was so calm about everything. Shawna remembered her grandfather being the same way. Her grandfather had died last year and she was still sad about that. Shawna opened the door to hear better.

“…and I don’t care that your girl is right there,” said the big man, very loudly and pointing at the sauna.

“She has nothing to do with it,” said her dad, standing completely still with his arms crossed.

“Well, you just better watch her carefully, and you know what I mean,” said the man, turning and walking away towards the road. Shawna and her dad watched the man until the darkness made him disappear.

Her dad turned back to the sauna, his arms still crossed, and he looked at the ground as he walked. When he got closer, he saw her poking her head out the door, and he frowned a little. He came back in to the sauna and shut the door.

“Come here,” he said sitting on the lower bench and patting a spot next to him. Shawna clenched her doll and sat carefully. Dad looked mad.

“What did he want, Daddy?”

“There are some people around here who get upset this time of year when the pickers come in. They say the pickers are taking jobs from the white people.”

“But there are white people who come to pick apples too,” Shawna said.

Her dad smiled. “Yes, but they pay us to do that, then they go home. The pickers come and work all day and we pay them to get the apples.” He looked at the door, as though the man were still out there. “There are people who don’t like that we hire the pickers every year from the same place. Lots of white people around here don’t have jobs right, so they get mad when they see any other people working.”

Shawna thought for a moment. “Kind of like when I see Tina’s doll and I want one too?”

Dad smiled again. “Something like that.” He saw her clenching her fist and said, “What’s this?”

She opened her hand and they both saw that the red doll shoe had made an imprint on her palm from her holding it so tightly. “I got the shoe off and it fell, and then I got it from the floor but I forgot to put it back on.” A shiver went up her back and she realized the steam had faded from the sauna rocks.

“It’s getting cool out here, let’s go in now.” Dad pulled her close in a side hug, and they both stood and went out the door. But Shawna noticed that her dad still looked out at the road once as they walked to the safety of the side porch light on the house.

Cripes, it's been a while...

2007-10-02T13:22:00.000-05:00

My apologies to those who have been looking for updates here... been busy getting married, pregnant, working at the new job, etc. Oh yes, all happened this year!!

I am now Shannon J. again, which is pretty cool, I even changed my name today at the Secretary of State's office (more on that in a minute). I haven't even had time lately to get a haircut, which explains the almost constant ponytail, and my poor dog hasn't been for a walk in - well, I don't know how long. I just spent an hour this past weekend going over an enormous pile of mail (only half of which were bills, thank goodness, and some of them were even paid already) and I spent another 2-3 hours just cleaning the house. The spare room - soon to be the nursery!! - needed some serious cleaning alone. All the while I am trying to stop scratching, since my new injection medicine caused a nasty allergic reaction at the injection sites ... but hopefully the new meds (along with the Prednisone... ah, such wonderful stuff) will help with that.

Let's see... here's been my day so far.

Got up later than expected since my poor hubby wasn't able to sleep last night until like 3 a.m. (so the alarm got reset after it went off at 5:45). One of the issues with working at home and not having established a schedule just yet (hey it's only been 5 months, gimme a break). Anywho, the trash didn't get taken out last night so of course the recycling people and the trash guys both showed up before 9 a.m. (which never happens) and so now we have several bags of stuff that has to sit around for another week before we can get rid of it.

I got myself together to get out the door early to the Secretary of State's office, since we were finally able to get ACTUALLY married yesterday and we have a wedding license now (YAY!)... but hubby needed some help this morning getting off to his job, so of course I helped. Which meant I didn't get out the door until 9:45. I get to the Secretary of State's office about 15 minutes later, and although the smell in the place was slightly worse than the inside of a professional hockey gear bag, I grabbed a number and sat on a very uncomfortable plastic chair and waited. Now serving #54. I have the number 60, so I think, heck, this won't take too long.

I endure a video by the acting Secretary of State on the beautiful flat screen TVs (the only thing that's been updated in this office since about 1980) about how there have been so many updates and modernizations! Ha. About a half hour and a Pop-Tart later, I'm looking around for a water fountain or water cooler, but all there is in the corner is an ATM machine, because of course they only take cash or checks, no debit/credit cards here. Modernized, my butt. Finally I get called up into the line (because they can't rely on us to do that ourselves) and handed a form to fill out. It's about 6 lines long. I wasn't sure whether to put my new name on or the old one so I left it blank.

After letting another guy go ahead of me, and waiting for the lady with the oxygen tank to go ahead of me too, I finally get my turn. I show all the paperwork, fill in the form with my NEW name, get my lovely picture taken, and am told the card will be in the mail in 2-3 weeks. The only good thing here is that now I don't have to come in next month and get the thing renewed, or have to change my voter registration either, since they were efficient enough to take care of those today.

Then I decide to get to the bank and change my name on the savings account, since there's a branch right around the corner. I parked, and as I got out of the car, I see an older African American man getting out of a sedan, yelling at his driver... something about "You gonna say something, bi***? Go ahead, say something!" Great, I get to be in the bank with this guy. So I took my time inside filling out the withdrawal slip and getting in line. He was already with a teller when I got up there, talking to the teller about how she needed to write the balance on his slip much larger, because he couldn't see. I'm thinking he probably could have seen just fine if he hadn't been completely sauced. So while I am filling out another name change form, he's saying to his teller, "I think I know you from somewhere," and the poor girl is shaking her head. Then he starts mumbling about security and how she doesn't know him from anything. He says to her, "Ask me what my pin number is, go ahead, ask me. Ask me." Finally she gives in and says, "What's your pin number?" and he replies, "I ain't tellin you. Now why'd you go and ask me?" Yikes. So he gets his cash and goes to leave, but instead of turning around to see where he's walking, he walks backwards right into a display, which crashes into the wainscoting on the other wall, cracking the molding along the floor and taking a nice sized chip out of the display. Quite a noise. So the managers all rush out of their offices, and instead of helping to pick it up, drunk guy mumbles "Sorry" a couple of times and walks out. This is why I don't shop in the area anymore, weirdos!!

Topping off the day is a 45-minute discussion on the phone with my boss, who wants me to redo several timesheets with more detail, even though I redid several of them last night (which took me hours). Apparently I'm not billing enough time to clients vs. the company, and so now I need to go back and re-redo the work I already did. Which is one of my biggest pet peeves.

I also spent some time today sorting piles of junk on my desk - which you would think would not take all that long considering my desk is pretty small. But it took longer than I wanted it to, and two items I found were some unfinished writing that's been sitting around for about 6 years. Reminding me also that there's another thing I have not done, compounding the frustration of my day.

Other than that, everything's fine. :)

Easy to use website builder

2007-07-11T07:19:00.000-05:00

I signed up for Yahoo! Small Business services in April to develop my website, www.writingandmarketing.com. I've been having a little trouble uploading PDFs to the site... until today. They upgraded the website editing software I use (there are actually 4 to choose from, of course I picked the one that's easiest) and it's really pretty cool. It's called SiteBuilder, and it's good for people who don't want to learn HTML and have flashing crap running across the screen. You can build a store with it too... which I may do eventually.

God Help The Price is Right

2007-06-22T09:43:00.001-05:00

So I had heard a rumor that Rosie O'Donnell was vying for The Price is Right hosting job. I thought, "Yeah right, Bob would NEVER go for that. He's a classy guy." It's a job for someone who can step back and let the contestants be the show. I mean, for 30 years his only political statement was his signoff, "Remember folks, to spay and neuter your pets." Simple, effective and not a topic people can dispute as being important or not. True that he had all those sexual harassment suits thrown at him at one point, but he's an old-school game show host with young scantily-clad models around him all day... what do you expect?

Rosie can't be that unpolitical and subtly opinionated.

Just when I thought the whole thing was just a rumor, then I saw this in People magazine today (my comments inserted with the bullets):

Rosie O'Donnell Meets with Price Is Right Producers
FRIDAY JUNE 22, 2007 09:50 AM
By Emily Fromm

As promised, Rosie O'Donnell met with The Price Is Right producers on Thursday – although the speculation that she'll replace Bob Barker as the show's host has been losing steam.

THANK GOD...

Asked on her blog how her interview went, O'Donnell replies, "we had a nice lunch" – but does not elaborate. Another reader writes, "I see that Drew Carey's name has been thrown into the mix. Any comments?" Writes O'Donnell: "i love drew carey."

DREW CAREY AS THE HOST OF PIR?? NAHH.

Barker started the buzz about O'Donnell replacing him when he said at last week's Daytime Emmys that he had "no doubt" O'Donnell would be a good host for the game show. But he backed off on Wednesday, telling the Associated Press: "I think there are several candidates who could do the show, and Rosie is certainly one of them."

NOOOOOOOO, BOB!! SAY IT AIN'T SO!!!! DO I HAVE TO GET HAPPY GILMORE TO SMACK YOU?

O'Donnell herself sounded pessimistic about her chances in a recent video post on her blog: "I don't know if it's gonna work out," she told fans. "I just think it's a part of American nostalgia, and it's what America needs right now. It would be good for me, but I don't know if it's right for them."

WELL AT LEAST SHE'S BEING REALISTIC. I IMAGINE AT THE LUNCH THEY HAD, THEY PROBABLY TOLD HER SHE CAN'T BE A LOUDMOUTH JERK AS THE HOST OF THE SHOW AND SHE PROBABLY ANSWERED..."WHATEVER." THAT IS NOT THE KIND OF ATTITUDE THE SHOW -- OR THE REST OF THIS WORLD -- NEEDS. WE CAN ONLY HOPE AND PRAY THAT SHE DOES NOT LAND THIS GIG.

My sister's blog

2007-05-30T08:18:00.000-05:00

If someone can help them out... that would be awesome.

http://mombyprofession.blogspot.com/

HALLELUJAH!!!

2007-05-09T13:45:00.000-05:00

Nancy Grace to end show on Court TV

ATLANTA - Nancy Grace is ending her justice-themed interview and debate show, "Nancy Grace: Closing Arguments," on Court TV after 10 years with the network.

That's the best thing I've heard since Rosie O' Donnell quit The View.

Recent peeves, Kid Rock and Blades of Glory

2007-05-04T07:45:00.000-05:00

So I am covering a few topics today.

First, I have to say that Snow Patrol and the Fray are whiny-ass sounding bands who need to NOT be played on the radio ever again. It seems every time I turn on just about any station here in Detroit, I hear these two bands' songs. Their sound (because even though it's two bands I am talking about, they sound the same) is a rip-off of Five For Fighting (a good band) and I am really tired of hearing these posers. They do NOT actually know "how to save a life" even if their stupid song has been adopted by "Grey's Anatomy." Come on. I would much rather hear Marilyn Manson because he has musical talent.

A few days ago a local high school girls' golf team had their clubs stolen from the back of the coach's SUV. The very next day Kid Rock called the coach and told her he was going to help them out by getting custom-made clubs from TaylorMade to replace all the clubs that were stolen! Anything else you want to say about Kid, I think he's a nice guy.
Link to the Ann Arbor News article on it:
http://www.mlive.com/news/annarbornews/index.ssf?/
base/news-22/1178203448215770.xml&coll=2

And finally, I took my sweetie on a date last Friday night to see "Blades of Glory" with Will Ferrell and Jon Heder. Frigging hilarious! We left the theatre laughing so hard, our sides were hurting. I will never hear the song "I Don't Want To Miss A Thing" by Aerosmith and think of it the same way again. If you have not seen this movie, see it. We're definitely buying a copy to have at home as soon as it comes out on DVD.

Weird book titles

2007-04-13T13:38:00.001-05:00

'Stray Shopping Carts' wins oddest title

By JILL LAWLESS, Associated Press Writer

Rogue shopping carts beat green Nazis Friday in the battle for one of Britain's most unusual book prizes.

"The Stray Shopping Carts of Eastern North America: A Guide to Field Identification" was named winner of the Bookseller/Diagram Prize for oddest book title.

The book, written by Buffalo, N.Y.-based artist Julian Montague and published by Harry N. Abrams, beat "How Green Were the Nazis?" a study of the environmental policies of the Third Reich.

"Stray Shopping Carts" received a third of the more than 5,500 votes cast by the public on the Web site of trade magazine The Bookseller.

"It's a sort of strange honor to have," Montague said. "But I welcome the publicity and it's nice that people are finding out my book exists."

Montague's work — documented on his Stray Shopping Cart Project Web site — offers a mock-scientific look at the varieties of lost shopping carts, from the simply discarded to the elaborately vandalized.

"Then there's plow crush — where a cart gets crushed by a snow plow — and train crush," Montague said. "It's really a project about the power of language and scientific classification to shape the way we see the world."

Runner-up for the prize was "Tattooed Mountain Women and Spoon Boxes of Daghestan," by Robert Chenciner, Gabib Ismailov, Magomedkhan Magomedkhanov and Alex Binnie (Bennett & Bloom).

The other finalists were "Di Mascio's Delicious Ice Cream: Di Mascio of Coventry: an Ice Cream Company of Repute, With an Interesting and Varied Fleet of Ice Cream Vans," by Roger De Boer, Harvey Francis Pitcher and Alan Wilkinson (Past Masters); "Proceedings of the Eighteenth International Seaweed Symposium" (Kluwer); and "Better Never to Have Been: The Harm of Coming Into Existence," by David Benatar (Clarendon Press).

Past winners of the 29-year-old prize include "People Who Don't Know They're Dead: How They Attach Themselves to Unsuspecting Bystanders and What to Do About It."

2007-03-29T11:02:00.002-05:00

Ten of the best April Fool's Day hoaxes

Thu Mar 29, 4:19 AM ET

NEW YORK (AFP) - From television revealing that spaghetti grows on trees to advertisements for the left-handed burger, the tradition of April Fool's Day stories in the media has a weird and wonderful history.

Here are 10 of the top April Fool's Day pranks ever pulled off, as judged by the Museum of Hoaxes for their notoriety, absurdity, and number of people duped.

-- In 1957, a BBC television show announced that thanks to a mild winter and the virtual elimination of the spaghetti weevil, Swiss farmers were enjoying a bumper spaghetti crop. Footage of Swiss farmers pulling strands of spaghetti from trees prompted a barrage of calls from people wanting to know how to grow their own spaghetti at home.

-- In 1985, Sports Illustrated magazine published a story that a rookie baseball pitcher who could reportedly throw a ball at 270 kilometers per hour (168 miles per hour) was set to join the New York Mets. Finch was said to have mastered his skill -- pitching significantly faster than anyone else has ever managed -- in a Tibetan monastery. Mets fans' celebrations were short-lived.

-- Sweden in 1962 had only one television channel, which broadcast in black and white. The station's technical expert appeared on the news to announce that thanks to a newly developed technology, viewers could convert their existing sets to receive color pictures by pulling a nylon stocking over the screen. In fact, they had to wait until 1970.

-- In 1996, American fast-food chain Taco Bell announced that it had bought Philadelphia's Liberty Bell, a historic symbol of American independence, from the federal government and was renaming it the Taco Liberty Bell. Outraged citizens called to express their anger before Taco Bell revealed the hoax. Then-White House press secretary Mike McCurry was asked about the sale and said the Lincoln Memorial in Washington had also been sold and was to be renamed the Ford Lincoln Mercury Memorial after the automotive giant.

-- In 1977, British newspaper The Guardian published a seven-page supplement for the 10th anniversary of San Serriffe, a small republic located in the Indian Ocean consisting of several semicolon-shaped islands. A series of articles described the geography and culture of the two main islands, named Upper Caisse and Lower Caisse.

-- In 1992, US National Public Radio announced that Richard Nixon was running for president again. His new campaign slogan was, "I didn't do anything wrong, and I won't do it again." They even had clips of Nixon announcing his candidacy. Listeners flooded the show with calls expressing their outrage. Nixon's voice actually turned out to be that of impersonator Rich Little.

-- In 1998, a newsletter titled New Mexicans for Science and Reason carried an article that the state of Alabama had voted to change the value of pi from 3.14159 to the "Biblical value" of 3.0.

-- Burger King, another American fast-food chain, published a full-page advertisement in USA Today in 1998 announcing the introduction of the "Left-Handed Whopper," specially designed for the 32 million left-handed Americans. According to the advertisement, the new burger included the same ingredients as the original, but the condiments were rotated 180 degrees. The chain said it received thousands of requests for the new burger, as well as orders for the original "right-handed" version.

-- Discover Magazine announced in 1995 that a highly respected biologist, Aprile Pazzo (Italian for April Fool), had discovered a new species in Antarctica: the hotheaded naked ice borer. The creatures were described as having bony plates on their heads that became burning hot, allowing the animals to bore through ice at high speed -- a technique they used to hunt penguins.

-- Noted British astronomer Patrick Moore announced on the radio in 1976 that at 9:47 am, a once-in-a-lifetime astronomical event, in which Pluto would pass behind Jupiter, would cause a gravitational alignment that would reduce the Earth's gravity. Moore told listeners that if they jumped in the air at the exact moment of the planetary alignment, they would experience a floating sensation. Hundreds of people called in to report feeling the sensation.

Miracles never cease

2007-03-23T14:07:00.000-05:00

While on a lovely vacation a couple of weeks ago, I bought a Gentle Leader for Dudley. Supposedly, for $19.99, you put this thingy on the dog's face and they don't pull on the leash anymore. I liked taking Dudley for walks... except for the fact that I just about got my arm yanked out of its socket. So I was willing to give it a try. I fitted him with it Sunday and tried a short walk. Apparently I put it on too tight over the bridge of his nose, because he spent most of our walk (a whole 4 blocks) trying to paw it off. But I have to say, even with that distraction, we had a pleasant walk... he literally could not pull ahead because when he did, I only had to exert the smallest amount of pressure (with two fingers...really!) and he would turn his head towards me. He also stopped walking when I did it.

Last night we tried a looser fit over his nose, and went for a longer walk. What a difference from the yanking and pulling! He still tried to paw it off last night but just about a half-dozen times. Then we had a very nice walk, where most of the time he was next to me. He did want to walk ahead but when he did, he didn't pull. Anyone looking for a help with their dog's yanking... buy one of these things! They are available online (Ebay) or at Petco (significantly more expensive there though).

A big day!

2007-03-13T12:18:00.000-05:00

Today the Rock N Roll Hall of Fame finally acknowledged one of the most influential groups of all time -- Grand Master Flash!! The first time I heard "Rapper's Delight" I was hooked. Of course, that was in MTV's infancy, so anyone who had a video I was happy to watch. But they're a great group just the same.

Plus it's almost 70 degrees here today and that just rocks!

I only hope to achieve all 8 - and have money!

2007-02-21T15:16:00.000-05:00

The 8 Qualities of a Wealthy Woman

By Suze Orman

Posted Monday, February 12, 2007, 3:00AM

What keeps women from achieving the financial security they -- and their families -- deserve? I believe the root of the problem lies in the dysfunctional relationship women have with money.

That's the launching point for my new book, "Women & Money: Owning the Power to Control Your Destiny." My message to all women: Owning the power to control your destiny requires more than 401(k)s and Roth IRAs. It requires reconditioning from the inside. In this excerpt from "Women & Money," I discuss the eight qualities of wealthy women.

Qualities 1 and 2: Harmony and Balance

Harmony is an agreement in feeling, approach, and sympathy. It is the pleasing interaction between what you think, feel, say, and do.

Balance is a state of emotional and rational stability in which you are calm and able to make sound decisions and judgments.

Harmony and balance are perhaps the most important qualities of all, for they serve as the foundation for the remaining qualities. When you possess true inner harmony, what you think, say, feel, and do is one. We are so accustomed to this split-screen state of mind in which we think one thing, say another, feel something else, and act in a way that has nothing to do with what we just thought, said, or felt. When your thoughts, feelings, words, and actions are not in harmony, it shows up as an imbalance -- you feel agitated, uncomfortable, you sense something is off, so you find it difficult to make rational, calm decisions. This is why these two qualities are a pair.

Quality 3: Courage

Courage is the ability to face danger, difficulty, uncertainty, or pain without being overcome by fear or being deflected from a chosen course of action.

Courage gives harmony expression. When your thoughts and feelings are one, courage helps you manifest them in the form of words and actions. When you are afraid to speak or act, courage helps you overcome your fear. Courage gives you the ability to speak your truth, even when it is not what others may want to hear.

Fear is usually what stands between us and our courage. But if we are to embrace this quality of courage to its fullest, we can no longer allow ourselves to hide behind fear. You can meditate on your fear and think about it rationally and try to will it away, but in the end, if fear is preventing you from acting, you must find your courage and act to overcome your fear.

Quality 4: Generosity

Generosity is when you give the right thing to the right person at the right time -- and it benefits both of you.

Generosity is a quality that most women can tap into very easily -- maybe too easily. As women, we tend to be overly generous with our time, support, love, and money -- but giving simply for the sake of giving does not match the definition of true generosity.

True generosity goes far beyond what you give to others. In giving there is a power, an understanding that you are just the vessel that wealth or energy flows through. You allow money to come in through your hands and out through your heart. To be empowered to give, to be moved to give straight from the heart, is a feeling that all the money in the world could never buy. So let me ask you: Is that how you feel when you constantly give of yourself? Do you feel enhanced or do you feel diminished? You think of yourself as a giver, as generous with your time, your talent, your money. Others probably describe you as a generous woman, but if I were to look at you, I might think you give for the wrong reasons. Do you give because you feel that you should? Do you give out of guilt or embarrassment? Understand that true generosity is as much about the one who gives as it is about the one who receives. If an act of generosity benefits the receiver but saps the giver, then it is not true generosity.

Quality 5: Happiness

Happiness is a state of well-being and contentment.

When you find the courage to live your life in harmony and balance, when you understand and practice generosity in the truest sense, happiness spontaneously appears. When you are happy, you are open and accessible. When you are happy, you tend to be more optimistic. You approach new challenges with a clear mind that seeks positive solutions. You see possibilities rather than problems.

Happiness is not a luxury. It is a necessity for true wealth. When you are happy, you have the satisfaction of knowing that your actions come from a place of purity and balance, that they are correct and generous and kind. There are no regrets in this state of happiness -- and that's a goal worth striving for in all areas of your life.

Quality 6: Wisdom

Wisdom is the knowledge and experience needed to make sensible decisions and judgments, or the good sense shown by the decisions and judgments made from an accumulated knowledge of life that has been gained through experience.

The quality of wisdom is more than intellectual, and it is in no way related to how much schooling you have. Exercising wisdom requires cutting through the noise of life and tapping into your core beliefs to make thoughtful decisions. Wisdom results from inhabiting all the qualities that came before it. A wise woman recognizes when her life is out of balance and summons the courage to act to correct it. A wise woman knows the meaning of true generosity. A wise woman knows happiness is the reward for a life lived in harmony, with courage and grace. A wise woman knows how to summon her courage and do what is right, rather than what is easy.

Quality 7: Cleanliness

Cleanliness is a state of purity, clarity, and precision.

Cleanliness is about respecting the importance of order and organization. When you don't know where your money is, when you have no filing system for your important documents, when you dive into your pocketbook to pull out crumpled bills, when your car looks like a garbage can, when your closets are filled with junk and clutter -- you cannot possibly be a wealthy woman. You need to clean up your act -- quite literally -- to bring true wealth into your life. In India, women sweep the front entrance to their home each morning as a way of welcoming Lakshmi, the goddess of material and spiritual abundance, into their home, for there is a belief that she resides at the threshold of every house. In order for her to enter, she must have a clear path.

You might be reading this and thinking that cleanliness is nice but not essential to your financial well-being. I am here to tell you that if this quality is not up front and center, wealth will elude you and you will be left with the mess that you created. Respect the power of this quality of cleanliness. Tell the universe that you have cleared the path for wealth and abundance to enter.

Quality 8: Beauty

Beauty is the quality or aggregate of qualities in a person that gives pleasure to the senses or pleasurably exalts the mind or spirit.

Beauty is what you create when you incorporate the other seven qualities into your life. When you take the steps to have harmony, balance, courage, generosity, happiness, wisdom, cleanliness, and beauty in your life, you will exude confidence in who you are. And there is nothing more beautiful than a confident woman. Remember, when you are confident you feel secure, and when you feel secure you have no fear. And when you have no fear, you have the courage to say what you think and feel in a calm and wise way. And when you are calm, you make wise decisions with your money, which then allows you to be truly generous to others as well as yourself, which, in turn, makes you a happy, powerful, and beautiful woman. Do you see how all of these qualities work together to help you arrive at the goal of being a woman in control of her destiny?

Summoning the 8 Qualities

I've noticed, in my own life and in others', that the more you summon these qualities, the easier they are to access. Harmony yearns for more harmony, and balance abhors imbalance. Courage begets greater courage. Once you are generous in the right way, a lesser form of generosity will feel inferior to you. True happiness will never permit you to settle for a lesser form of happiness. Cleanliness recoils at disorder. Wisdom, once achieved, is with you forever, and beauty inspires beauty in all things.

Carry these qualities with you throughout your life. Write them on a notecard and keep them close at hand -- in your wallet or in your pocket. Make it into a talisman to guide you every day as you make your way through life and all its impossible demands. These qualities will keep you focused and tranquil. Let them and they will offer you constant reassurance that you are acting powerfully and correctly, with love in your heart and the purest intentions, to realize your goals of security and comfort for yourself and all you love.

That's more like it

2007-02-05T12:21:00.000-05:00

Broadcaster to pay $2M in bomb scare

By GLEN JOHNSON, Associated Press Writer 52 minutes ago

BOSTON - Turner Broadcasting Systems and Interference Inc. have agreed to pay $2 million for a Cartoon Network advertising campaign that caused a widespread bomb scare, the attorney general said Monday. The agreement with several state and local agencies resolves any potential civil or criminal claims against the companies, said Attorney General Martha Coakley.

More than three dozen blinking electronic signs with a boxy cartoon character giving an obscene hand gesture were found Wednesday in Boston, Cambridge and Somerville. The signs, part of a publicity campaign for Cartoon Network's "Aqua Teen Hunger Force," also appeared in nine other big U.S. cities in recent weeks, with little interest.

But in Boston, bomb squads responded to reports of the devices in a subway station, on bridges and elsewhere.

As part of the settlement, $1 million will be used to reimburse the agencies and $1 million will be used to fund homeland security and other programs. Turner Broadcasting, a division of Time Warner Inc., and Interference Inc. also will issue a public statement accepting full responsibility and apologizing for the incident.

"Last week's events caused a major disruption in the greater Boston area on many levels — crippling public transportation, causing serious traffic problems, negatively affecting local businesses and perhaps most significantly, costing Boston and surrounding communities thousands of dollars," Coakley said.

Turner released a statement again taking responsibility for the "unconventional marketing tactic" and apologizing for hardships caused to Boston area residents.

"We understand now that in today's post-Sept. 11 environment, it was reasonable and appropriate for citizens and law enforcement officials to take any perceived threat posed by our light boards very seriously and to respond as they did," the statement said.

The company said it was reviewing its policies concerning local marketing efforts and strategies to ensure that they are not disruptive or perceived as threatening.

Authorities say two men were paid to hang the signs around the city. Peter Berdovsky, 27, and Sean Stevens, 28, have pleaded not guilty to placing a hoax device and disorderly conduct.

Coakley said prosecutors were in discussions with the men's attorneys to resolve the charges before a trial.

When PR goes bad

2007-02-01T09:10:00.000-05:00

Today on CNN they're reporting that several lighted circuit boards, funky ads promoting the new Aqua Teen Hunger Force movie and placed around busy areas in Boston, were mistaken for bombs. According to the poor art students who put them there, they've been in place for more than two weeks. What does this say for our counterterrorism policing? And why weren't the boards more clearly marked as advertising, or at least an attempt at it? They were placed in odd areas like underpasses, and subway tunnels, and were just a couple of feet in size. The boards were placed in several large cities including NYC and Seattle, where they had over 50.

I've never seen Aqua Teen Hunger Force, but this seems like a pretty sick way to promote it, not to mention bizarre. Turner Broadcasting, with its silly idea, wasted about $500,000 of the taxpayers' money, and that's just in Boston, because they had to bring out the bomb squads, shut down the subways and roadways for quite some time Wednesday.

We can't take frigging shampoo on a plane but these students figured out a way into subway tunnels and other supposedly secure places, and hang up battery-operated blinking signs, in several large metro populations without anyone noticing for weeks.

Happy 2007 - and it should be!

2007-01-04T16:03:00.000-05:00

Hello you stalwart readers of my blog (I know who most of you are...). Happy 2007!

I came across an article today about how to attend MIT (and many other large universities) for free. It involves twoOpen Courseware websites:

the MIT site (ocw.mit.edu)

the OCW consortium (ocwconsortium.org)

Both places you can just sign up for classes. Only 26 have video lectures available, but many more have materials, coursework, podcasts and other items for you to take classes on everything from atomic physics to wildlife medicine. These two sites are being generously supported by private donations and hopefully they will continue into the future as we become more and more a global society. Exchanging what we know is the most valuable resource!

I said I wasn't getting married again... but....

2006-11-09T09:01:00.000-05:00

That just proves you should never say never! Finally I find the right man for me so I am not letting him go!

Our wedding is set for March 3, 2007, one year from the day we laid eyes on each other at Conor O'Neills in Ann Arbor. Amazingly we met online, on MySpace, so I guess we'll have to send Tom a gushy letter thanking him for developing such a cool place to meet people.

So far, we are registered at Bed Bath & Beyond. We're still officially determining a reception site, although we think we know where we'll do that. It will be an evening cocktail and h'ors douerve reception, and we're asking everyone to wear "cocktail attire" - meaning little black dresses for the ladies (gloves optional) and dark suits for the men. Yes it is OK to wear black to a wedding!

Invites will go out probably around Christmas, so we have a lot of work to do between now and then. I've already purchased a few decoration items on Ebay (again, cheap and functional stuff... gotta love Ebay!) and my dress... then we have to talk about ceremony music, the DJ, get ourselves a photographer, get our attendant gifts, arrange a rehearsal dinner...well, I'm getting exhausted just typing all that. More updates as wedding developments fall into place!

Court, and other necessary things

2006-10-25T18:49:00.000-05:00

Looks like I am now the owner of the house in Greenville, just waiting on the official signed judgement from the county, and an emergency quit claim deed from the area in which the house sits. My lawyer even said she appreciated the volume of information I provided to her, and that the judge had never approved something like this before without any changes to what we requested. So that made me feel good, like I coulda been a lawyer! Hopefully I can get the place ready to sell fairly soon and just get rid of it ASAP. Goodness knows I have some other debt and expenses to take care of instead of paying a mortgage payment on a house I don't live in. I keep saying I wish I'd gotten a lawyer way back when to take care of this before...but there's no sense in beating myself up now, it's mostly resolved at this point.

Reprinted from Snopes.com - Happy Friday the 13th

2006-10-13T11:19:00.000-05:00

Legend: Friday the 13th is a day fraught with peril.

Origins: Although most of us would probably affirm that superstition's
role in Western culture is now a much diminished one, more a source of amusement than anything else, there are still those who allow their trepidation over particular days or dates to prevent them from engaging in their choice of activities. We may make jokes about Friday the 13th and only kiddingly instruct loved ones to exercise greater care on that day, but those who suffer from a fear of the number thirteen (triskaidekaphobia) or a fear of Friday the 13th (paraskevidekatriaphobia) may genuinely feel limited by the rumored potential for ill luck connected with the date.

The reasons why Friday came to be regarded as a day of bad luck have been obscured by the mists of time — some of the more common theories link it to a significant event in Christian tradition said to have taken place on Friday, such as the Crucifixion, Eve's offering the apple to Adam in the Garden of Eden, the beginning of the Great Flood, or the confusion at the Tower of Babel. Chaucer alluded to Friday as a day on which bad things seemed to happen in the Canterbury Tales as far back as the late 14th century ("And on a Friday fell all this mischance"), but references to Friday as a day connected with ill luck generally start to show up in Western literature around the mid-17th century:

"Now Friday came, you old wives say, Of all the week's the unluckiest day." (1656)

From the early 19th century onward, examples abound of Friday's being considered a bad day for all sorts of ordinary tasks, from writing letters to conducting business and receiving medical treatment:

"I knew another poor woman, who lost half her time in waiting for lucky days, and made it a rule never to . . . write a letter on business . . . on a Friday — so her business was never done, and her fortune suffered accordingly." (1804)
"There are still a few respectable tradesmen and merchants who will not transact business, or be bled, or take physic, on a Friday, because it is an unlucky day." (1831)

Friday was also said to be a particularly unlucky day on which to undertake anything that represented a beginning or the start of a new venture, thus we find references to all of the following activities as endeavors best avoided on Fridays:

Needleworking: "I knew an old lady who, if she had nearly completed a piece of needlework on a Thursday, would put it aside unfinished, and set a few stitches in her next undertaking, that she might not be obliged either to begin the new task on Friday or to remain idle for a day." (1883)
Harvesting: "My father once decided to start harvest on a Friday, and men went out on the Thursday evening, and, unpaid, cut along one side of the first field with their scythes, in order to dodge the malign fates which a Friday start would begin." (1933)
Laying the keel of, or launching, a ship: "Fisherman would have great misgivings about laying the keel of a new boat on Friday, as well as launching one on that day." (1885)
Beginning a sea voyage: "Sailors are many of them superstitious . . . A voyage begun [on a Friday] is sure to be an unfortunate one." (1823)
Beginning a journey: "I knew another poor woman, who . . . made it a rule never to . . . set out on a journey on a Friday." (1804)
Giving birth: "A child born on a Friday is doomed to misfortune." (1846)
Getting married: "As to Friday, a couple married on that day are doomed to a cat-and-dog life." (1879)
Recovering from illness: "If you have been ill, don't get up for the first time on a Friday." (1923)
Hearing news: "If you hear anything new on a Friday, it gives you another wrinkle on your face, and adds a year to your age." (1883)
Moving: "Don't move on a Friday, or you won't stay there very long." (1982)
Starting a new job: "Servants who go into their situations on Friday, never go to stay." (1923)

In some cases, Good Friday (the Friday before Easter) was regarded as an exception or 'antidote' to the bad luck usually associated with Friday beginnings:

"Notwithstanding the prejudice against sailing on a Friday . . . most of the pleasure-boats . . . make their first voyage for the season on Good Friday." (1857)
"It was accounted unlucky for a child to be born on a Friday, unless it happened to be Good Friday, when the event was counterbalanced by the sanctity of the day." (1870)

The origins of the connection between the number thirteen and ill fortune are similarly obscure. Many different sources for the superstition surrounding the number thirteen have been posited, the most common stemming from another Christian source, the Last Supper, at which Judas Iscariot was said to have been the thirteenth guest to sit at the table. (Judas later betrayed Jesus, leading to His crucifixion, and then took his own life.) This Christian symbolism is reflected in early Western references to thirteen as an omen of bad fortune, which generally started to appear in the early 18th century and warned that thirteen people sitting down to a meal together presaged that one of them would die within the year:

"I have known, and now know, persons in genteel life who did, and do, not sit down to table unmoved with twelve others. Our notion is that one of the thirteen so partaking, will die ere the expiry of the year." (1823)
"The old story runs, that the last individual of the thirteen who takes a seat has the greatest chance of being the 'doomed one'." (1839)

Superstition held that the victim would be the first person to rise from the table (or the last one to be seated), leading to the remedies of having all guests sit and stand at the same time, or seating one or more guests at a separate table:

" . . . Miss Mellon always gave the last comer an equal chance with the rest for life . . . she used to rise and say, 'I will not have any friend of mine sit down as the thirteenth; you must all rise, and we will then sit down again together.'" (1839)
"Every one knows that to sit down thirteen at a table is a most unlucky omen, sure to be followed by the death of one of the party within the year . . . Some say, however, that the evil will only befall the first who leaves the table, and may be averted if the whole company are careful to rise from their seats at the same moment." (1883)
" . . . so far is this feeling carried that one of the thirteen is requested to dine at a side table!" (1823)

(The "thirteen at the table" form of superstition again harkens back to the Last Supper: the one who left the table first, Judas Iscariot, died at his own hand soon afterwards.)

More generally, groups of thirteen people in any context — at a table, in a room, on a ship — were believed to inevitably lead to tragedy:

"On a sudden an old woman unluckily observed there were thirteen of us in company. This remark struck a panic terror into several who were present . . . but a friend of mine, taking notice that one of our female companions was big with child, affirmed there were fourteen in the room . . ." (1711)
"Notwithstanding . . . opinions in favour of odd numbers, the number thirteen is considered as extremely ominous; it being held that, when thirteen persons meet in a room, one of them will die within the year." (1787)
"Many will not sail on a vessel when [thirteen] is the number of persons on board; and it is believed that some fatal accident must befall one of them." (1808)

By the late 19th century the superstition surrounding thirteen had become even more general, with people going out of their ways to avoid anything designated by the number thirteen, whether it be hotel rooms, desks, or cars:

"'Look at that,' said Parnell, pointing to the number on his door. It was No. 13! 'What a room to give me!'" (1893)
"For some time before the late War I went almost daily to the British Museum reading room . . . I gave some attention to the desks left to the last comers . . . there was a very marked preference of any other desk to that numbered '13'." (1927)
"The mechanic helped him get out [of the racing car]. 'May as well scratch,' he said. 'He won't be good for anything more this afternoon. It's asking for trouble having a No. 13.'" (1930)

Once again these ill omens were avoided through artifice, such as the renumbering of rooms in hotels and inns to eliminate any Room #13's, and misnumbering the floors above the 12th floor in multi-story buildings so that tenants could pretend 13th floors were really 14th floors.

Just as Friday was considered an inauspicious day of the week on which to embark upon a new enterprise, so the 13th day of a month came to signify a particularly bad day for beginning a venture. Although regarding the confluence of a particularly unlucky day of the week (Friday) and a particularly unlucky day of the month (the 13th) as a date of supreme unluckiness might seem to be obvious and inevitable, superstitions regarding Friday the 13th are not nearly as old as most people tend to think. The belief in Friday the 13th as a day on which Murphy's Law reigns supreme and anything that can go wrong will go wrong appears to be largely a 20th century phenomenon. (The claim that the Friday the 13th superstition began with the arrest of the final Grand Master of the Knights Templar, Jacques Demolay, on Friday, October 13, 1307, is a modern-day invention.)

Maybe I'm just homesick... but I like this a lot

2006-10-07T20:10:00.000-05:00

We have a lot of neat memories from when we were kids, and my sister spent some time one day writing down things she remembered. I've made some of these more generic than her original document but the same flavor is there. My comments, added in, are in parens.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

I remember enjoying the big brown “bear” chair at Grandma & Grandpa’s house in the den. (I remember dad fighting to light the fire in the fireplace at their house. It never lit on the first try!)

I remember watching Nova and Tiger Baseball with Grandma & Grandpa.

I remember eating saltines and peanut butter in the next door neighbor's kitchen when mom took us over there with her to visit.

I remember hating softball because the girls teased me. I played for 2 years anyway.

I remember rehearsing plays at school for hours upon hours, and loving it.

I remember clogging classes.

I remember listening to Aunt Sue tell stories about the farmer’s market and going bowling.

I remember Dad and Uncle Eric doing cannonballs in Grandma’s pool.

I remember singing while dad played the guitar. We sang, “I’ll Fly Away” and “Do Lord”.

I remember Grandma Newell playing “The King Is Coming” on the piano. She knew it by heart.

I remember having a cake fight in my friend’s kitchen.

* I remember the year that we only trick or treated to three of the neighbors because the rain was pouring down. That was the year I was a witch and my big floppy hat got soaked.*

I remember Dad drawing X’s and O’s on the ends of our toes with a ball point pen after we’d just gotten out of the bathtub.

I remember my best friend and I going through all the garbage at Ponderosa looking for the retainer I had accidentally thrown away, and finding it under a garbage can.

I remember sledding at the big sand dune by the lake.

I remember playing in the sand, and loving to chase seagulls and swim in the summer.

I remember the first patchwork quilt I ever made. It was for my best friend's baby when he was newborn. It was awful!

I remember playing “Choplifter” and “Olympic Games” on Uncle Bob’s Commodore 64 computer.

I remember listening to my dress shoes tap on the tile floor in the hallway at church when I was very small.

I remember loving my Raggedy Ann dress.

I remember peanut butter & jelly on a hot dog bun (and the song we had to sing when we made one!)

I remember the red flowered nightgown that Grandma Newell made for me. It felt like clean sheets. I loved it.

I remember having a special bed on the couch when I didn’t feel good. We always had jell-o, saltines, and 7-Up.

I remember the day I found out I was going to be a Mom. It was one of the very most special days of my life.

I remember not wanting to fall in love with Jason, but having no control over it. He was just the one for me.

I remember following Ann Pool home from elementary school, sharing a Little Debbie snack, and then her Mom gave me my piano lesson. She didn’t like me one bit.

I remember going to Alabama to visit Grandma and Grandpa in Mobile.

I remember Grandma buying me a Mexican Barbie when I learned my multiplication tables.

I remember devouring all of the Little House on the Prairie books. We watched Little House religiously!

I remember Shirley Temple movies on Sunday afternoons, and watching Sha Na Na.

I remember all of the musicals in elementary school. I loved them.

I remember our babysitter Amy washing our hair in the kitchen sink.

I remember mom checking on us when we were in the tub. “Are you ok?”

Sept 19th - Talk Like A Pirate Day

2006-09-19T14:49:00.000-05:00

My pirate name is:

Calico Charity Rackham

Often indecisive, you can't even choose a favorite color. You're apt to follow wherever the wind blows you, just like Calico Jack Rackham, your namesake. You have the good fortune of having a good name, since Rackham (pronounced RACKem, not rack-ham) is one of the coolest sounding surnames for a pirate. Arr!

Get your own pirate name from piratequiz.com

Dog sprayed by a skunk?

2006-09-19T07:00:00.000-05:00

This is the fail-proof recipe for cleaning up a skunk-sprayed dog. I know because I had to do this one late night last summer.

1 pint hydrogen peroxide
2/3 cup baking soda
1 tablespoon of citrus-based liquid soap

With gloves on, sponge this mixture into the dog's fur, and rub it in down to the skin if you can. Let sit two to five minutes, then rinse with plain water. If a second batch is needed, use fresh ingredients.

If this mixture, or skunk spray, has gotten into the dog's eyes, use a wet rag soaked in milk to wipe the eyes. Wring the rag out over the eyes for best results (dripping it directly into the eyes) or if the dog will sit still, gently wipe around the eyes with the rag. Results should be immediate.

Update on the BS that continues

2006-09-14T13:00:00.000-05:00

Well - my naivete and trust in people who shouldn't be trusted has come around to bite me again. Namely my ex, who we will refer to here as AzHol.

Not only did AzHol lie to me about the refinancing being possible, he said it could happen ASAP and that it would correct both of our credit scores. I talked to the refi guy he talked to and none of it's true (so many people told me this but I was SO hoping for an easy resolution here...) So I had to forward an email from refi guy to my lawyer, stating the truth, and figure out how the heck I am going to pay the already past due mortgage payments, along with the payments that will be due from this point on, since I am most likely going to be awarded the house in the court hearing in October... I am still trying to refi for myself, and hopefully with just a few ontime payments under my belt I can swing it sooner rather than later. An interest only loan would work best but you have to have pretty good credit and mortgage payment history to qualify.

It just pisses me off to no end, that I am making more money than I have in my whole life, and yet I have nothing to show for it... 1/3 of my income each month is going to a house payment for a house I DON'T LIVE IN!! I have no "extra" money EVER, no savings, and very little in the 401K. I might as well throw my money into a hole in the ground.

So I'm feeling pretty low today... and then I get a call about needing to have me sub at the local softball league... so after my 8 hour workday (2 of which have been actually on the phone with the mortgage company and lawyer and refi guy) I go to a 1-hour yoga class, then zip home to pick up the dog, and change clothes again for softball and have to take the dog with me. I certainly hope they are not expecting much out of me, I SUCK at softball worse than I do at golf.

So it's a little early for this but I think it's fun

2006-09-14T12:52:00.000-05:00

Halloween being one of my favorite holidays (I'm a frustrated actress I guess), we were challenged during our department meeting a couple of weeks ago to develop a theme for Halloween for the marketing department. Our boss suggested When the Grinch Stole Halloween which I think is cool. So I wrote this up and gave it to her (yes she loved it!).

When the Grinch Stole Halloween

There’s the time he stole Christmas, but it all came out right
Because of Cindy Lou Who, some roast beast and starlight
But the Grinch took another day -- it’s the worst thing we’ve seen
Come walk through Whoville, and try to save Halloween.

First he outfitted Max with devil horns and a cape
The poor thing looked pathetic, his head wrapped in duct tape
The Grinch himself got dressed up too
As a fierce looking mobster with a greasy hairdo

Then he loaded some bags and some empty old sacks
On that same sleigh and hitched up old Max
Then the Grinch said “Giddyap” - the sleigh started down
Toward the homes where the Whos were decorating the town

They were hanging up twine webs and plastic spiders
And other fun things that were sure to frighten
Like stuffed Kleenex ghosts hung from tree branches
And black cat cutouts raised up on their haunches

There were paper skeletons hanging on doors
And fog machines started, just like the moors
Pumpkin-face bags full of leaves all around
RIP tombstones and zombie hands stuck in the ground
Even a vampire’s coffin with authentic fake locks
And a seven-foot cornhusk tied to a mailbox

Then the Grinch swept in and yelled at the children
“Give me those jack-o-lanterns, wax teeth and black cauldrons!
The cider in jugs and caramel apples on sticks
All of the treats and all of the tricks!
I’m here to steal Halloween and I’ll do it right
So you Whos won’t eat any candy tonight!”

Just then Cindy Lou, and Cindy Lou’s brother
Along with Cindy Lou’s father and mother
Said “Wait a minute Grinch, it seems to us
That you’re a big bully and causing a fuss
Over a night that’s silly and full of sweets
You’re already dressed, so join us and see!”

Maybe it was the smell of the chocolaty Snickers
Or Max’s brown eyes pleading over his whiskers
But the Grinch’s plot was foiled again
By those nice Whos, who made him a friend.

Then Halloween night was a joy for them all
As they went door to door with that plaintive call
The one you can hear from down the street:
TRICK OR TREAT! TRICK OR TREAT! TRICK OR TREAT!

What's Been Happening

2006-08-24T10:54:00.000-05:00

Gosh, it's been some time since I posted eh? Well, there's been some legal wrangling happening and it's just not going anywhere, so I've been entangled in that instead of posting clever things here. I see on my daily George Carlin calendar today something particularly poignant to the issues I'm dealing with lately: "Until you're a certain age, you don't have anything to 'put behind you.' That's what life seems to be: a process of doing things that eventually you just want to put behind you."

As much as I regret my recent divorce (not the loss of the guy so much, but the sadness it leaves like a pond wake for my family), I regret every day not having used a lawyer to do the divorce. This leaves me with financial issues that I am struggling with, including real estate, family law, mortgage companies, etc. So I am trying to get out of this with as little financial and emotional damage as possible...in a short period of time. NOTE TO SELF: Don't try to do anything legal in a quick amount of time, it doesn't work.

Amidst all the craziness and drama, though, small victories emerge. My dog is a lot more well-behaved now than he used to be, to the point that at some locations I can actually keep him off leash. I had a call from a publishing company that wants to interview me for a part-time job ... and I have a referral to a new lawyer who hopefully can get me everything I deserve and want out of this nightmare house situation. Work is going well, I am finding my strengths there finally, and feeling not so alone in the pace at which I am learning the things I need to know.

But the biggest blessing I have right now is Scott. He is a handsome and wonderful person I hope to have in my life a long time. He is an anchor, a funny-man when I truly need a joke, my support system when it's late at night and I am feeling the weight of the world, a supreme listener, a logical voice when I am not capable of that, an awesome hugger/cuddler, he teaches me things every day about nothing and everything, relates to me and my past as well as my present, is responsible when necessary and a lot of fun when it's not, is forgiving, appreciative, clever, intelligent, organized, considerate, generous, and makes me feel like I only need to be ME. Which is the best part.

So I guess putting things behind you, as difficult as it is, still paves the way for lots of new experiences and validates the good choices you have made.

A different kind of training

2006-07-24T14:05:00.000-05:00

Preparing for the next relationship after a divorce (or a bad breakup) means training like an Olympian. (And by relationship, I am not referring to the “transitional” person you inevitably end up with for a short period. This can be a one-night thing or a couple of months, but it usually doesn’t last much longer than that).

First you have to get your mental game on. You know, the separation of head and brain. This is when the brain says, “I don’t need anyone in my life to be whole, I like spending time alone, I like my own company.” The heart and body on the other hand are fighting for someone to come along, ASAP. Their response is, “The hell with that, brain. We need some sex to feel attractive and intimate and less horny, even if it’s short-lived.”

Knowing that Brain is correct, but believing it and actually living it is another. As long as you have Brain’s message in there, and it keeps playing, you’re well on your way to getting past Mr. or Ms. Transitional/Mr. or Mrs. Wrong.

Part of the mental game preparation involves some practical stuff, too. Things like:

Get financially set – Get into a routine of saving money and paying bills on time, particularly if you don’t have that yet. Talk to a financial planner or credit counselor, or a trusted friend about a budget, and then stick with it. This may involve looking for a new job, even. But the relief you feel just from completing this step will allow you the freedom to concentrate on other stuff. Keep reading.

Get a support system – Should you need to talk, find out which friends or family members are okay with you calling in the middle of the night. Because you will need to at some point.

Have fun – Do things you like to do regularly, so you can recharge your batteries. This helps you meet new people (platonic friends) and relax, and not think about Mr. or Ms. Wrong all the time. It helps keep those Pity Parties at bay. Remember that you have to have a reserve of happy inside you first, before you can give it to someone else.

Make actual attempts to be healthy – Exercise and eat right, and get enough sleep. If you do nothing else on this list, you need these three, especially if you never have before.

Then the hard part comes. Get emotionally set – find a way to get your hands on all the tools to battle whatever comes your way. This is the only way to become strong enough to defend yourself appropriately from the No-Confidence and Disrespect monsters. Work out all those past angers, frustrations, trust issues, grudges, negative thoughts, nightmares, bad dates, things that set you on panic, whatever.

This means therapy, kickboxing, screaming at the top of your lungs, or lots of late nights talking to those friends/family while annoying them with yet another “What happened, why did this happen to me, why did this happen now” blah blah blah. Or all of the above.

One day, you will awake and the heart and brain will have signed a peace treaty overnight. This is when you will be truly ready to Go Look. This involves joining social clubs, online matching services, meeting those friends of friends on a regular basis for activities, hitting the gym more – wherever there are more single people like yourself, put yourself there. Take your time to review the available options. You may have to open your horizons to a different “look” than is your norm – or at the very least, hang out with people who have very different interests from yours and see what develops.

Then it’s Dating Time. Keep it on a platonic level for at least a couple of dates, and keep it in public view, during the daytime if at all possible. The reason I recommend these two things, is simply safety. You’re not stuck 1) in your nice clothes sitting in a restaurant for dinner for two hours with someone you have decided within the first few minutes is definitely NOT for you or 2) trying to get someone out of your house (or leave theirs) at night after some unwanted moves or disrespectful commentary. Ideas for the first few dates: go out for coffee, take walks, hit the museums, even shopping at the mall. You’ll also get a lot out of plain old phone conversations (or instant messages/text messages) in between those first few face-to-face meetings.

Then narrow it down. Pick a couple of people to keep seeing, a few more times, and get into the more date-like dates. Dinner, movie, dancing, a few drinks, play pool or darts or go to a sporting event. Bring some friends with you too, or hang out with their friends, and see how the new person interacts with others. This will give you depth of insight you never thought possible. Once you’ve had a few more involved dates, you’ll get a better idea who’s the most compatible for you. (Time is on your side, so use it.)

Only then will you be ready for a relationship - because when you find someone you’d like to spend some time with, exclusively, then the work really begins.

True loving is hard work. Your love test will come when you agree to do something you don’t want to do, but for that person you do it – including setting them free if that’s required.

Love is romance… but it’s also putting up with relatives on a weekend afternoon when you’d much rather be home vegetating on the couch. Love is worrying about the other person when you know they’re making a bad decision and your opinion mattered… but just not quite enough.

Love is not saying “I told you so” when they come back to you and say “I was wrong” or “I’m sorry.” Love is being honest with yourself, and with other people too.

Love is supporting your words with actions – being a loving person has more weight than telling someone you love them. Love is even agreeing to disagree sometimes.

Scott's birthday surprise

2006-06-13T12:15:00.000-05:00

So some of you have met Scott...the guy I'm seeing. Here we are about halfway through an eventful evening at the Arena in downtown Ann Arbor.

I threw him a surprise pub crawl birthday party this past Saturday. We started off at Conor O'Neills, made it to the Full Moon, then to the Arena, Arbor Brewing Company, and then Goodnight Gracies to wind up the night (appropriately enough).

He was instructed to wear a white t-shirt that read "Hi, I'm Scott. It's my birthday!" and then anyone who felt like writing something on the shirt, we provided Sharpie markers to. It was a riot. We also made him carry a neon green plastic pail that said "If you have to spew, spew in this." And we had four helium balloons that said Happy Birthday on them to carry around from place to place.

He was instructed to conduct a scavenger hunt as well - find a coin with 1970 on it, order and consume an "umbrella" drink, get a coaster from a bar, collect a wine cork, a matchbook and a beer bottle top, and get a kiss from stranger. All of which he accomplished by midnight!

Refinancing hell

2006-06-13T10:09:00.000-05:00

I am reminded of Matt Groening's comic strip from ages ago - "Life is Hell." Because I am trying to refinance my house and I am playing two companies against each other. They both want to convince me that the other one is messing with my head, when in reality both are. I am just trying to get the stupid mortgages consolidated into one payment, and get a lower monthly payment... that's it!! Agh.

Big trip to NYC

2006-05-31T09:41:00.000-05:00

(L) Musician in the park playing an accordion

(C) A statue of Hans Christian Anderson in Riverside Park
(R) a view from their apartment (very hazy humid day)

(top L) art in their apartment I liked
(C) an ancient temple on display at the Met
(R) part of a cool display of arms & armor at the Met
(left here) City street

(L) Dim sum - could not believe how crowded!

(R) Ground Zero.

World Trade Center subway line/train station

I was fortunate enough to be able to go to NYC this past weekend to visit Jhoanna, a very close friend, and really spend some time with her.

Here I am in line at the famous Magnolia Bakery where we bought some of their delicious cupcakes...yes, it was worth the wait, even in the heat!
This is the view from their apartment on 106th St. looking down Broadway. (Hey mom I finally made it to Broadway, haha).Here we are at the famous Central Park "sailboat pond," featured in many movies. Weather was great...just a bit of rain both Friday night and Sunday night (we dashed between the raindrops to get home from our dessert stop and walk through Columbia's campus) but we didn't melt. Otherwise it was HOT and humid.

We did a 2 mile run through Riverside Park Saturday, walked in Central Park, then kept walking and walking; we walked through just about every neighborhood, so I could get the full experience of Manhattan. We ate dim sum, did lots of furniture shopping (yes yes yes that was fun, stop apologizing, Jho...), clothes shopping, window shopping, eating popovers (yum), grocery shopping, bakery shopping, street fair shopping, souvenir shopping, chocolate shopping...and of course lots more eating, reminiscing and girl talk!

I did the Met on Monday with Nina, while Jho and Will were in the ER with Ben (a birthday party, an exercise bike and a serious foot injury...but nothing broken thank goodness).

I learned a lot about NYC real estate and architecture as Jho is writing a column for New York Magazine now, on both topics. She also knows where the famous people live. No star sightings this weekend as all of them were off to the Hamptons for the holiday weekend. But I did see the coffee shop from "You've Got Mail," the "luncheonette" that Seinfeld and pals supposedly hung out at, and the spot where John Lennon was shot.

Tuesday before my plane took off I squeezed in a very fast tour of the Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island, both great places to be when it's 95 degrees out, because you're on the water. I also stopped off at Ground Zero and was surprised at how much sadness was there.

Happy Post-Mother's Day

2006-05-15T09:27:00.000-05:00

I found this poem on the Internet around December, and had it typeset and framed for my mom for Christmas.

A Mother

A mother’s love is unconditional
Right from the very start
Comforting, caring and supporting you
As she did her part
A mother’s love is true and kind
No matter what you do
Teaching you right from wrong
And she believes in you, too
A mother’s love never ends
She is always there for you
When you’re feeling happy
Or when you’re feeling blue
A mother’s love is unselfish
As she sacrifices so much
Giving you what she can
Even just a little touch
A mother’s love is strong with affection
More than you will ever know
A very special bond
That will always show
A mother’s love is filled
With hopes and dreams for you
As she sees you succeed
And supports all that you do
A mother’s love is unconditional
And special, it’s easy to define
I have that kind of mother
I am proud to say she’s mine

One of my favorite stories

2006-05-08T18:00:00.000-05:00

This is a story I wrote many years ago but it's one of my favorites. I haven't gone back to change it much since I first wrote it, so that tells me I did it right the first time. Enjoy! - Shan

THE ARTIST by Shannon Edwards December 2000

Autumn is the season of death, Daniel said once. Driving, thinking about many things many people had said, Liz disagreed. It was a time of change. The old goes out and the new comes in, though you can't see the newness yet because it's still frozen, deep inside. The leaves were just turning, so the leaves on the trees were part green and part red; some tipped with orange.

The colors reminded Liz of "Fire," her first painting. One night after staring into the fireplace for too long, she realized not only did she want to, but she had to, express the colors she saw. She’d never painted before; in fact, she didn’t even have any supplies. She even showed up at Daniel’s at the end of the long weekend and asked if he had some paints and some extra canvas she could use. After two weeks of intense concentration, she produced “Fire.” The local critics at Daniel's gallery in St. Paul saw it as a sexual unity thing, but she would always think of it as the colors in the fireplace.

When she had finally shown her work to Daniel, he was ecstatic, hugging her and grabbing the sides of her face and kissing her forehead in his most energetic best friend way. He said he could get her a show in a small community center east of St. Paul. "A lot of local exposure, little initial cost," he said with a grin, convincing her as soon as it was out of his mouth. All along, during those long weeknights and even the fifteen-minute stints at the easel on the weekends, she knew inside that one day she could show her interpretation of the world to someone besides Daniel. It was just a matter of confidence.

Now Daniel was pressuring her to quit her full-time job to concentrate on her painting, but she wasn't sure she could give up the security yet. She told Daniel she'd wait to see how this show went. Daniel gave her one of his mischievous looks and said he'd invite all his rich friends to the show to buy all her paintings. “Then see how right I am, sweetie, you don’t belong in the catering business, really,” he said.

The gold sunset behind Liz disappeared quickly, but in its hanging glory, it glinted off each leaf on each tree. "Each leaf is a flake of gold in the crown of September," said Liz out loud. Boy, if anyone at the restaurant heard that … She wondered how the Budman reception was going, if they got the right centerpieces after all. Then she shook the thought away. I'm not thinking about work tonight, she told herself.

As she passed a small car, Liz wondered what she would do if her show was successful. Would her family take her seriously if she quit her job? Would anyone take her seriously, besides Daniel? She turned on the radio. A familiar song was playing:

Every time that I look in the mirror - All these lives, my face getting clearer

The past is gone...It went back, like dusk to dawn

There's another way - Everybody's got their dues in life to pay

I know, nobody knows, where it comes and where it goes

I know, everybody sing - You got the nose to know, oh, oh.

Dream on, dream on, dream on, dream until your dream comes true.

Yeah, dream on, Liz thought sarcastically. The same worries crowded her mind again. A new artist is lucky to sell a painting to her own mother, even at a first show. Sixteen months to accumulate the work I’ve done, and all of it will be in the show tomorrow, some of the not-so-great stuff there just to fill space. What do I do after this? Wait another sixteen months for success, or failure? How can I compete with these artists who have shows every six months?

As she drove into the last of the sunset, she noticed that people were flipping their lights on in preparation for twilight. She made herself think creatively, hoping some new images would come to her. Okay, she thought, if you had a hat, an old man's hat, what would you do with it to make it alive, or dead? What color would you paint it? From what angle? Using what kind of light?

A huge brown blur, crunching metal, the crack of a rock, blood spattered. The car’s tires squealed against the roadway as she applied the brakes almost instinctively. Liz's forehead lightly smacked the steering wheel at the same time her seatbelt pulled at her groin. What in the world, she thought, looking into the ditch through a large crack in the windshield. Slightly dizzy, she managed to unbuckle the seatbelt and opened the driver’s door. Her car was at an angle to the road, pointed into the median.

Behind her were hundred-foot skidmarks, beside her was her car - the hood of which looked more like an accordion now - and on the ground in front of her car was a large, bleeding deer. Stepping carefully towards it, she could see that it was a doe. She knelt down next to the animal, feeling its warm side and jumpy heartbeat. It gave her a terrorized expression, as though it were trapped, then its eyes glazed over, still open.

Liz held back tears. "Oh God," she whispered several times. She fought with herself mentally for a moment, wondering why this had to happen now, while she was on the way to the show, but trying to calm herself down to think what to do next. Where could she get help? She remembered seeing an exit a couple of miles back. It couldn't be more than two miles, she thought. She grabbed her purse and keys from the car, shoved her hands into her coat pockets, and began walking.

The walk was cold, but it didn't seem to take long, because she was thinking all the way. She tried to continue the creative exercises, but nothing came to her but the sight of that brown shape hitting the bumper. The image tormented her over and over until she reached the Dairy Queen at the exit.

Liz used the pay phone to call for a tow truck. She had to wait because the nearest truck had another customer further down the highway: "Forty minutes away, to be exact," said the nasal dispatcher. Liz sighed and said she'd wait, telling the dispatcher that she wanted to be driven to Grand Junction, but wanted her car to go back to St. Paul. She hung up and called Daniel, but he had already left, so she explained the whole situation on his answering machine, saying she'd try to make it. Hopefully he would think to call in for messages.

Maybe I can still make it to the show on time, she thought. Then the doe’s blankly staring eyes came back to her mind and she shivered a little. She decided she would order a coffee.

An hour and ten minutes and a large coffee later, the tow truck finally showed. A large dark-haired man in greasy green overalls beckoned to her from outside, behind the gas pumps. She looked around the restaurant and realized she was the only one there, so she went out to meet him.

“Where'd ya get stuck?" he asked as she climbed a ladder into the huge truck.

“Two miles south,” she replied.

During the drive to her car, the driver said nothing. The radio played some twangy country music, faintly, seemingly from a distance. As he pulled the wrecker in front of the car to position it, Liz turned around in her seat to look again in disbelief, her jaw dropped open.

The doe was gone.

She sat down, sliding slowly on the vinyl. How did it not die? It was dead when she touched it, she was sure.

On the way to the Grand Junction Gallery, the driver started asking questions. “Never seen a deer hit that hard before and live,” he said. “My brother-in-law hit a deer once, and he swears it bounced back up and kept runnin'. 'Course, he tends to exaggerate.” He looked at her. “I'm Ray. Whatta people call you?”

"Liz," she answered in a soft voice. "And I've never even hit a squirrel. I didn't know animals could do such damage."

"Oh yeah, I'm surprised you could get out of the car. Coulda been much worse." He paused, then asked, "Why are you goin' on to Grand Junction when your car's goin' back to St. Paul? Got a hot date or somethin'?" He grinned and his teeth shone in the darkness, white and straight.

"No, I have a show. I'm an artist." She smiled at herself, basking in the warm feeling from saying that out loud.

"You do sculpture? Or paintin'?"

“Paint. Mostly oils."

"Hmmm. You do any nudes?"

"Uh, no. Just natural scenes, you know, trees and things."

"You always been an artist?"

"No; in fact, this is my first show."

"I knew it!" he said. He smacked the steering wheel with the heel of his hand. "That's why I ask people if they been doin' something always, because they say no, I was a - whatever - once. I met a woman in Texas one time who used to be in a flyin' trapeze act when she was a little girl.”

Liz smiled politely. “I also run a catering service back in St. Paul.”

“Doin' a little moonlightin' tonight, eh?" Ray chuckled. " I won't tell no one."

She smiled at him again, then looked out the window, wondering when they'd arrive in Grand Junction.

“So, uh," he continued, "you go to college for this catering thing? They got a catering major somewhere?"

"No, I started working there when I was in highschool, and I just stayed on after that. I'm the manager now."

"I went to college once," he said matter-of-factly. "I was gonna be a stockbroker." She raised an eyebrow at him and he went on. "Oh, yeah, I was just gonna take this” - here he hit the steering wheel again - “as a temporary job, while I was in school, you know. But I took all the night classes they had, and I would have had to take time off work to get the rest of the classes. Well, I'd gotten used to the money driving truck, and when you get used to having money, you let go of some things. I let go of school." He laughed a little, saying, "But I was still tellin' chicks in bars that one day I was gonna be a stockbroker. Some of 'em even believed me." He shook his head. "I sure was a crazy one then. I figured out one day that the chicks liked me better if I just told 'em I was a tow truck driver." He paused, then said, "Helped me, too, because I knew way before that that I was only gonna get so far in life, then I’d have to settle into something.”

He looked to her for a response, but Liz said nothing. She was frowning out the window, thinking about how Daniel was explaining her absence to his friends. She hoped he wasn't telling them that she hit a deer. That would be really embarrassing.

Looking into the side mirror, she suddenly got an image so clear and full that it frightened her. She pulled a sketch pad out of her bag and flew the pencil over the rough paper. Ray watched her draw furiously, but wasn't sure what she was drawing. Neither of them said another word for the rest of the trip.

The tow truck slowed and then stopped in front of the community center. Liz unlocked the door and slid out slowly. Ducking her head, she smiled, then said, "Thanks for the advice."

"What advice?"

"Well, you helped me make a decision tonight. And I wanted to thank you. Here," she said, extending the piece of sketch paper to him.

The page was covered in round scribbles, like exhaust smoke, but under it all, was the back end of a tow truck, pulling a compact car, a doe running behind them like a wild horse.

New poem

2006-04-21T12:37:00.000-05:00

Revealed

Tiny reddish kernels become green buds
Erupting from the branches
Day by day they advance in size

After a week they are enlarged nubs
A few days later, the smallest leaves have poked through
A month later and adolescent-size greenery moves in a slight breeze

Then full-size leaves reflect the pinkish light
Completely nourishing the branch it came from
With sunlight and sugar

Becoming part of a whistling tribe
Of leaves, branches and
Tree
Producing buds again

SME
4/21/06

Introducing Dudley!

2006-04-10T13:02:00.000-05:00

This is Dudley! I adopted him this weekend and we're getting along great. He's about a year old, and already housetrained. He's a husky, shepherd retriever mix. Note the one blue eye! He's very smart, very energetic and hopefully will be a good running pal.

Two more dogs die...reward up to $18K

2006-03-29T13:24:00.000-05:00

2 pit bulls added to grisly count

Tips keep investigators busy around the clock in case of 9 slain dogs

BY TRACY DAVIS, Ann Arbor News Staff Reporter

Two more young adult pit bulls were found dead north of Ypsilanti on Monday afternoon, and animal cruelty officials said they expect they haven't reached the end of the grim discoveries that began two weeks ago.

The two dogs, found along Clark Road and MacArthur Boulevard, bring the total number of slain dogs to nine. Unlike the first four dogs discovered along roadsides in rural parts of Superior Township, these two dogs were not decapitated and the cause of death is unclear.

Like the other dogs, these two appeared to have been dead for a couple of weeks, investigators said, but they do not believe that the dogs were all dumped at the same time, given that they have been scattered across a three-mile radius in Superior Township.

Meanwhile, the reward for information leading to an arrest in the case has been upped to $18,000, thanks to donations from people in the area.

Update on the dog murders

2006-03-28T09:48:00.000-05:00

The Humane Society of Huron Valley is now offering $12,000 for information leading to the arrest of the person or people involved in the killings of seven dogs found recently in Washtenaw County. If you have a tip, call 734-662-5585, ext. 127, anytime and ask for Julie Curtis, investigator.

This enrages me

2006-03-23T11:27:00.000-05:00

Another dog found beheaded
Humane society raises reward offer to $5,000 - BY TRACY DAVIS AND AMALIE NASH
Ann Arbor News Staff Reporters

Another decapitated dog was found in Superior Township on Wednesday, and the reward for the information leading to an arrest in the case has been upped to more than $5,000, officials with the Humane Society of Huron Valley said today.

The 40-pound female terrier mix was found lying in a ditch near Gotfredson and Vreeland roads in eastern Superior Township. Officials were alerted by a caller after news came out Wednesday of a Rottweiler found decapitated with its feet bound.

Julie Curtis, animal cruelty investigator for the humane society, said the terrier mix, clearly a family pet, fit the pattern of dead animals dumped in the area since January.

Tanya Hilgendorf, executive director of the humane society, said the second dog's body was found about two miles from where the Rottweiler was located.

Hilgendorf said humane society officials are pledging to do everything they can to stop the killings of family pets. She said the society received more than 100 calls about the case Wednesday - including tips, offers of donations to support the investigation and concerns from residents about allowing their pets outside in that area.

The humane society announced a $500 reward Tuesday, and private donations had pushed that figure to more than $5,000 by this morning.

"Obviously we're very troubled and saddened by the pain and suffering these animals are going through and the brutality of the acts,'' Hilgendorf said.

The humane society has responded to four other calls since January, but the two latest findings are the only ones where a pet was involved. In the other cases, skinned and decapitated wild animals were found in trash receptacles and alongside the roads.

The female Rottweiler was found last week alongside five skinned coyote carcasses at Harris and Geddes roads, the same location where seven other skinned wild animals have been found since January. A dead deer was lying near the terrier mix, Curtis said, but the deer carcass was so old it was impossible to tell whether it had been trapped.

Curtis said the terrier mix died two to three weeks ago. Unlike the Rottweiler, the dog's feet were not bound by duct tape.

"It was in great health, it actually would have been a little overweight,'' she said. "Clearly, again, a family dog.''

Officials said the wild animals were likely caught in snare traps and skinned by part-time trappers who sell the furs to make clothes and other items. Trapping season for those wild animals runs Oct. 15 to March 1. Curtis said the dogs may have been accidentally caught in the traps, but it was impossible to see telltale marks on the dogs' necks because they were decapitated.

Curtis said it is unclear whether the dogs were alive when they were decapitated, or whether they had already died. She said older snare traps tighten so much the animal chokes to death within minutes, while newer ones do not.

Neither dog had identification, and owners have not been found, Curtis said. The fact that their heads are missing has made identifying the pets even harder, Hilgendorf said.

Mutilating and killing a domesticated animal is a felony punishable by up to four years in prison.

Anyone with information on who is responsible for killing the pets is asked to call Curtis at 734-662-5585, ext. 112. Humane Society of Huron Valley website: www.hshv.org

Why cats are afraid of water - story

2006-03-17T18:24:00.000-05:00

This is something I would like to have published someday as a children's book. Anyway, let me know what you think. - S
-----------------------------------

WHY CATS ARE AFRAID OF WATER (As told to Katie, by Grandma)

One day Katie asked Grandma, who is the smartest person she knew, why her cat was afraid of water. So Grandma began:

A long time ago, in Egypt, the Queen Cleopatra ruled the land. She also owned all the cats in the world, and they lived with her in her palace on the River Nile.

Cleopatra loved her cats dearly, so she was afraid to let them out of the palace for fear they might get hurt or lost. The cats loved her too, but they always sat at the windows looking out, waiting for the day when they might be able to get out into the world and explore it for themselves. (This is why cats like to look out windows to this day.) They especially were curious about the River Nile and what was in it.

One day Cleopatra met a young man, and they decided to get married, so Cleopatra began planning her wedding. She was so busy choosing her dress and picking out what flowers she would like and what music there would be that she didn’t have time to play with her beloved cats at all.

The cats didn’t understand what a wedding was, so they didn’t know what was going on. The cats just knew that strange people were coming in and out of the palace all the time, and that Cleopatra wasn’t around much for them to play with. They were very sad, because they missed the cat games they used to play with Cleopatra. They started sleeping a lot, and playing by themselves, because they thought that she didn’t love them anymore. (This is why cats sleep so much and play by themselves to this day). But sleeping and playing alone was boring after a while, so they decided to do something about it.

The day before the wedding, the cats had a council. The oldest cat, Nefertiti, took charge of the meeting.

“Okay, everyone, settle down,” she said. “Now, we all would like to explore outside the palace, right?”

“Right,” said the cats.

“Okay, this is the plan. We will wait in the kitchen, and when the kitchen door opens, as many as can fit through the door will run out. Each time the door opens, a few more of you run out.”

One of the cats, Anthony, raised his paw with a question.

“Yes, Anthony?” said Nefertiti.

“Where are we running to once we’re outside?” he asked.

“We are going to the River Nile, of course, to explore what is in it,” said Nefertiti. “So run down the steps and go right to the river. Wait for all the cats to arrive, and we will all play together!” The cats meowed and meowed with happiness. They were finally going to find out what was outside the palace!

That night, the cats went to the kitchen to wait for the door to open. Sure enough, after just a few minutes, one of the cooks, who had armloads of bread for the next day’s feast, opened the door. Because she had so much in her hands she could not shut the door quickly, so all of the cats ran out together. The cook screamed in surprise and threw the bread all over the kitchen. She ran to catch the cats, but it was too late - they were already to the edge of the River Nile.

At the edge of the river, Anthony called the cats together. “I would like to say that because Nefertiti’s plan worked so well, that she should be the first to touch the river.” The cats all agreed, so Nefertiti went to the edge of the water and touched it.

It was very cold, and had a funny way of sticking to her paw. It made her paw darker, and when the wind blew against it, it felt even colder. She decided to lick it, and it tasted very good. (To this day, cats lick their paws often, trying to taste the River Nile again.)

Nefertiti then said, “Everyone, the River Nile is safe! Let’s play!”

The cats meowed with excitement and some ran into the river to swim. However, when they swam out far enough, the fish who lived in the river started biting their paws and tails, and they were afraid. They all ran away from the river, and to this day, that is why cats don’t like water. (This is also why cats like to eat fish, because they were so mad at the fish who bit them in the River Nile.)

Posting for this weekend

2006-03-10T21:46:00.000-05:00

ESCAPE WITH CHOCOLATE

When she looked up from the rolltop desk where she sat writing yet another thank you note, she saw that the rain had finally stopped. Maybe we will get some sun today after all, Sally thought. Bending her head parallel to the smooth surface of the desk again, she wrote four more notes but could not write anymore because of the noise in the kitchen.

She entered the kitchen to see her daughter-in-law, Ellen, perched on a stool by the telephone, crying into a black lace shawl she'd bought for the occasion. Hearing her mother-in-law enter, Ellen looked up with disdain. Roger, Ellen's husband, who'd been left practically everything in the will, laid a comforting arm on Ellen's shoulder as he said, "Really, mother, I can't believe you're wearing that dress today."

Sally lifted her chin and replied, "For your information, this was your father's favorite dress and I wear it for him today, not anyone else." Then she went to the refrigerator for a frozen Hershey bar with almonds. Unwrapping it hastily and taking a crunchy bite, she said with her mouth full, "Your dad loved purple flowers." (The truth was that the dress was now one of the only pieces of clothing she owned, and her late husband didn't have any idea what her wardrobe consisted of, much less did he have a favorite. But her children never did know much about their relationship, so the lie was safe.) This morning she'd packed all the clothing Frank ever bought her - all the housedresses, especially that blue and brown one - into a grocery sack for the Goodwill. She moved her favorites - the yellow, purple and fuschia dresses that Frank had refused to let her wear after she'd had the babies - to the front of the closet again. She also threw away all but one pair of shoes - the yellow, purple and fuschia ones with the gold heels - for going to town. Otherwise she'd go barefoot.

Ellen, though she looked as if she might throw up on the linoleum, defended her mother-in-law, as she had for the past two days. "Oh, leave her alone, Roger. Sally can wear anything she darn well wants to."

With a nod to Ellen, Sally took another large defiant bite of her candy bar, and walked out to the front porch. She smiled as she heard Roger sigh in the kitchen.

She leaned on the porch railing, remembering the day she'd convinced Frank to move out to the "hills," as he called the area. It had taken some work even to get him out to see the house, because he said the dusty gravel road would scratch his car's paint.

Her favorite part of the house, the front porch, looked east over a lush, rolling countryside, and seeing it you'd hardly know there was a highway less than two miles west. The green, gentle slopes stretching almost to the horizon reminded her of England, especially in the spring when the wildflowers bloomed. The rest of the time, there were just weeds. It was so glorious to see the sunrise every morning...each day it was different; sometimes orange, sometimes red, some days it rose faster than others. But it was there every day, ready to be kind to Sally, comforting, telling her it would return for another secret rendezvous tomorrow. Even when an early translucent fog obscured her view of the horizon she sensed its sympathy. It calmed her, preparing her for the long day ahead. Frank never watched the sunrise with her.

She looked over the porch railing at the lawn, which came right up against the porch. He'd always insisted on that. Now she mapped out in her head a walking garden with flowering bushes and fruit trees. Maybe she'd even call that landscaping service to put in stone paths and hybrid roses.

Finished with her candy bar, she wadded up the foil and paper and played with the stiff ball, tossing it from palm to palm. After everyone left tomorrow she'd plant tulips and pansies by the front steps, and paint the mailbox orange, while wearing her yellow striped dress. Nodding to herself and smiling, she could feel the warmth of the early afternoon sun, which had finally come out from behind the clouds. Yes, definitely the yellow dress for gardening.

More poetry

2006-03-06T23:18:00.000-05:00

Here are a couple more poems, ones I like especially. Enjoy. -S

Breakup poem:

Back In Michigan

Back then - back there

You loved me

Cried over me even

Now you are over those hills

Out of mind

You know who you are

Back then - back there

You smiled at those people talking

Laughed with your squinty moon eyes, even

Now you are in the movie theatre

Out of sight

You know who you are

Back then - back there

You made cheap fun

Tried to dance even

Now you are down the street with my twin

Out of sight and mind

You don’t know me anymore.

9/92

Observation poem:

School Bus Leaving

As I drive behind

The big yellow bus

Its windy wake

Shakes the last brown leaves from the trees

A storm of crispy flutterings

Ashes

Scatter in pursuit of learning

Round yellow rooftop

Bends branches forward

Forcing them to

Give up the final coverings

Scraps of deer-colored rags flying

Landing

A carpet for the following car

10/29/01

One of the funniest raps I've seen

2006-03-03T08:49:00.000-05:00

Although I don't watch SNL as much as I used to, I caught this one weekend and it just about made me pee. Two white guys rapping about going to the movies on the weekend. Enjoy!

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
An SNL Digital Short by .....Andy Samberg and .....Chris Parnell

Andy Samberg: Lazy Sunday, wake up in the late afternoon, Call up Parnell just to see how he’s doin’.
Chris Parnell: Hello?
Andy Samberg: What up Parnz?
Chris Parnell: Yo Samberg, what’s crackin’?
Andy Samberg: You thinkin’ what I’m thinkin’?
Both: NARNIA!
Andy Samberg: Then it’s happ’nin’.
Chris Parnell: But first my hunger pangs are stickin’ like duct tape!
Andy Samberg: Then let’s hit up Magnolia, and mack on some cupcakes!
Chris Parnell: No doubt that bakery’s got all the raw frosting.
Andy Samberg: I love those cupcakes like Madame loves Gosling!
Chris Parnell: Two!
Andy Samberg: No, six!
Chris Parnell: No, twelve!
Both: Baker’s Dozen!
Andy Samberg: Yo, I told you that I’m crazy for these cupcakes, cousin!
Chris Parnell: Yo, where’s the movie, playa?
Andy Samberg: On the west side, dude!
Chris Parnell: Well, let’s hit up Yahoo! Maps to find the dopest route.
Andy Samberg: I prefer MapQuest!
Chris Parnell: That’s a good one, too!
Andy Samberg: Google Maps is the best!
Chris Parnell: True dat!
Both: Double true!
Andy Samberg: 68th and Broadway!
Chris Parnell: Step on it, sucka!
Andy Samberg: What you wanna do, Chris?
Chris Parnell: Snack attack, muthaf-----!

Both: The Chronic- What? -Cles of Narnia!
Yes the Chronic- What? -Cles of Narnia!
We love the Chronic- What? -Cles of Narnia!
Pass the Chronic- What? -Cles of Narnia!

Andy Samberg: Yo stop at the deli, the theatre’s overpriced!
Chris Parnell: You got the backpack?
Andy Samberg: Gotta pack it up nice!
Chris Parnell: Don’t want security to get suspicious!
Andy Samberg: Mr. Pibb plus Red Vines equals crazy delicious.
Chris Parnell: Reach in my pocket, pull out some dough.
Andy Samberg: Girl actin’ like she never seen a ten befo’.
Chris Parnell: It’s all about the Hamiltons, baby!
Andy Samberg: Got the snacks in the bag!
Chris Parnell: And I’m ghost like Swayze! (Pause) Roll up in the theatre,
Andy Samberg: Ticket buyin’s what we handle?
Chris Parnell: You can call us Aaron Burnes
Andy Samberg: From the way we’re droppin’ Hamiltons.
Chris Parnell: Bust up in our seats, Movie Trivia’s the illest!
Andy Samberg: “What Friends alum starred in films with Bruce Willis?”
Chris Parnell: Answer so fast that we’re scary!
Andy Samberg: Everyone stand to know when we scream
Both: MATTHEW PERRY!
Andy Samberg: Now quiet in the theatre or it’s gonna get tragic.
Chris Parnell: We’re ‘bout to get tickets to a dream-world of magic.

Both: The Chronic- What? -Cles of Narnia!
Yes the Chronic- What? -Cles of Narnia!
We love the Chronic- What? -Cles of Narnia!
Pass the Chronic- What? -Cles of Narnia!

Shaking my head over this one

2006-03-01T14:16:00.000-05:00

From the AP wires today:

A defiant Saddam Hussein admitted in court Wednesday that he ordered the trial of 148 Shiites eventually executed in the 1980s, but he insisted that doing so was legal because they were suspected in an assassination attempt against him. "Where is the crime? Where is the crime?" Saddam asked.

I'll answer that one. When you're randomly razing the land and killing poor farmers because you want their property, just because you're the President and you can, that's a crime against humanness.

2006-02-22T17:27:00.000-05:00

Here's some of the gals from the marketing department and me (in the red dress) having a good ol' time on the dance floor.

Two more poems

2006-01-31T11:18:00.000-05:00

Flag

Fluorescent orange flag
At the top of the hill
screams for attention:

“I am dying!”

We glance
But no sooner we see it than
The flag has only its stem
Spokes of bones;
When it has disrobed its life
draped on the ground at its roots

10/91

Sleepy Day on the Water

I let
The boat
Rock me
To a
Dream state

When you
Caught fish
I woke
To see
Your smile

Think of
The tap
Of waves
On hull
Or beach

To help
Sleep now
Tonight

7/16/02

A poem by a friend of mine - reactions?

2006-01-21T20:48:00.000-05:00

Everything and nothing
Talk. Talk. Talk.
Comfortable silence holds the sting
Of love

Awkward and elegant at once
They fumble for words best left alone
Just a touch, nothing more
It can speak more than a library of books

And it's that couple that draws the envious looks
They enshrouded in their invisible bliss
Their hearts carry others' hopeful hooks
That they will also know such love and not miss

Some more poetry

2006-01-21T20:01:00.000-05:00

Fog

Fog lay high over the road
A bridge for the ghost pets
So they can be safe crossing
Turtles, frogs,
Cats, dogs
Even the snakes
Saunter over and disappear
With the sunlight

10/11/05
sme

In-between times

Stars still twinkling
Moon shining bright against the black center

But twilight sky has edges of palest pink
That hopes to become peach, then light orange
Morphing into the full arching
Warmth and blue of day

Sunset sky grays the light
Cools the air and brings up wet smells
Browns the earth
Gradually becoming blackness of evening

You and I live in those in-between times
A few minutes out of the twenty-four hour days
When the light on the horizon pushes the stars away
When the dark holds the moon until it is overwhelmed with sun
You can’t watch the twilight leave
Or the sunset come
It’s constantly moving, faster than we can see

sme
10/18/05

Essay on being short

2006-01-08T18:54:00.000-05:00

I wrote this many years ago and after looking at it today, it made me laugh. But it's still true. So enjoy, and viva las short people! - Shannon

A SHORT EPIC

I looked up at The David. The muscled marble towered fifteen feet above me. One oversized hand drooped gently on his leg, while the other hand sagged over his shoulder, holding the stone that would kill the giant. I marveled at the artistry for a moment. Then my gaze came back to the other tourists standing near me, and I smiled in satisfaction that everyone had to look up to the statue. They were all experiencing what I must every day - being short.

I was born 16 inches long, six pounds, four ounces. Dad could place my head in his palm while my feet barely brushed the inside of his elbow. My mother and aunt had to buy doll clothes for me, because there weren't any infant's clothes small enough.

Elementary school was difficult for me. Every day in second grade I remember running in from recess crying, because someone had been teasing me about my height. I could never think of anything horrible enough to say back to them, so I just cried. I didn't think there was anything I could do about being shorter than the rest of the class.

It wasn't until junior high that I finally got defensive about derogatory comments regarding my height. It had been so frustrating for so long that suddenly all I could do was strike back. I developed a stunning repertoire of smartass comments that always shut people up. Though I don't remember any of these comments now, I recall that they usually consisted of an inventive rumor about the object of the insulter's desire, some habit of their mother's, or a remark about the way they dressed. It was junior high. Insults didn't need to be fancy then - just very embarrassing.

In high school, I dreamt one night that I was tall – about 5'10" or so. I was the tallest girl in my class. My shoulders were wide, proportional to my waist and hips, but my head was the same size as when I was short. In the dream I was hanging out with friends by some lockers, and they were all ignoring me because I was towering above them, and they couldn't look into my face to talk to me. I was hideous. I vowed from then on to love being short, accent being short, even, because if I didn't, I might wake up one morning tall and horrendous. If I'd been fat during high school, I probably would have seen the dream as a positive sign, but as it was, I was a bony, shapeless 15-year-old. Being tall and thin would have been a living nightmare.

Worse than anything else are the questions I get. I'm so tired of answering the same old questions all the time. I think I'll have a t-shirt printed up that says, "I am five feet tall, and I weigh 100 pounds. I wear a 6 1/2 shoe, and no, I don't buy clothes at children's stores."

Some of the worst questions are, "Are your parents short, too?" (Not when I need money, they aren't). One thing I hear a lot from people of average height is, "I feel tall when I'm around you." I usually respond with something creative like, "So?" I also get a lot of, "So, have you ever gone out with a tall guy?" Yes, I have. It was hard to kiss him but we got over it. "Shorty" has been my obvious nickname ever since I can remember, along with "little woman," "midget," "welchkin," (when it was found out that I am of Welch ancestry) and the ever-popular short shit." But the worst statement of all is, "Boy, are you short!"

It was only recently, in an Dear Abby column, that I learned an appropriate response to "Boy, are you short!" A woman wrote in saying she was 200 pounds overweight and she liked herself that way. When people asked her why she didn't try to lose weight, she'd reply, "I just lost 20 pounds." That shut 'em up, she said. And to the really rude people who said to her, "Boy, are you fat!" she'd reply, "Boy, are you rude!"

I've never used this reply, but I did have the opportunity to a few months ago. While waiting in line to talk to a professor I knew, a guy I'd never seen before, walking in the hallway, stopped next to me and gasped, "Boy, are you short!" The fat woman's reply popped into my head, but I didn't say it for some reason. Instead I rolled my eyes (which someone told me I do professionally). The rude guy turned to Kurt, a friend of mine standing in line, and said, "That probably wasn't the right thing to say, was it?" Kurt shook his head, bugging his eyes in amazement at this guy's audacity. Apologizing and introducing himself, ironically, as David, the rude guy, tried to make it better by telling me I was very cute - for a short girl. Over his shoulder, I made a furtive face at Kurt that said, "Help me get rid of this guy!" Kurt only shrugged.

However, I defeated the giant by throwing the rock of superiority in his face. Just then, it was my turn to see the professor, so I went in, chatted with him, and got a favor out of him because we were old friends. I made sure all of this conversation was just loud enough for David to hear. Poor David had to wait in a very long line to see this professor, whom he didn't know, and who probably wouldn't do him a favor, when I only had to stand in line two minutes and got exactly what I wanted. That was sweet enough revenge for me.

I have found some definitive advantages in being short, however. No one ever asks me if I play basketball, or encourages me to do so. I don't have to worry about hitting my head on doorways. And I thank fate that adjectives like "lanky," "gangly," and "ungainly" cannot apply to me, nor can the nickname "beanpole," or the phrase "You've grown like a weed." I revel in the fact that my younger sister and my friends can no longer borrow my clothes or shoes, since they're all at least two sizes larger. I win limbo contests. I love singing "Kiss Off" to people who sing me the song “Short People Ain't Got No Reason." Ten bucks can usually get me drunk, no matter what type of alcohol I buy. I hardly ever use the whole towel to dry off with, and I can fall asleep - horizontally - in a recliner quite comfortably.

But I smile widest when I see someone taller than me grabbing a chair to reach the top cupboard in the kitchen. No one can say they have never come up short at some time in their lives.

Reflections on a year of change

2006-01-03T21:33:00.000-05:00

A year ago I was miserably unemployed, heading into my last semester of graduate school with no clear idea of what I wanted to write a thesis about, wondering if I would ever be truly happy again. I am glad to report that I've made the necessary changes in my life to get past all of that, and I am well on my way to a life that I love to live. There are things that are still to be wrapped up but most of it is good and I am grateful for people who take a chance on me...grateful for new friends, old friends, supporters and a little faith thrown in for good measure. As I sit here looking over the bills I have due, I am actually not overwhelmed for once, and I can count on several people who I could call right now who would be happy to hear from me. I have a closetful of clothes which at the moment are all clean, the house is not a wreck, my roommate and I are quietly communing with each of our computers and I actually worked out today for an hour. I had a relaxing weekend with my new computer and about a half dozen movies...along with meeting new friends and enjoying the company of those I have known for years. I have a long way to go still and I am a work in progress. But that's okay, I always have been.

The essence of perfection

2005-12-21T19:01:00.000-05:00

The essence of perfection

I know a lot of people who call themselves perfectionists. Yet they try to perfect things that don’t matter.

I’ve worked in advertising, sales and marketing for a while now. One of the things we have to do quite often are presentations. I can’t tell you how many weekends, evenings and special occasions have been ruined, when I’m at a party or a social gathering of some kind, because I end up listening to some boor tell me at length about a work-related presentation . . . either one they heard, developed, stole, are still working on. They’re trying to get it perfect. I admit, I’ve been the boor myself on occasion, but I can’t imagine why it might have ever been that important; that I spent that much time on it.

Because truly, when you’re looking for perfection, you spend a lot of time doing it. Hunting it down seems to encompass large blocks of time, entire days or weeks or even years. But it doesn’t have to. Perfection has to have the perfect environment in which to happen. Much of the time it eludes us because it can’t be created. It just IS.

Perfection is just being with your friends and not having a time limit on hanging out together. For example, when I’m going out for the evening with some girlfriends. While we’re getting ready, we’re talking about the best moisturizer, the perfect outfit, the greatest shoes etc. But none of that is what the evening is about; we don’t talk about what the evening is really for. Even the process of getting ready is what the point is -- we’re spending time together. If anyone asked what we were doing Friday night, we’d say “We’re going out to have a few drinks and get loose. We’re going to have girl time, go dancing, eat food that normally we would shun during the week, check out some men.” But what we’re really doing is pursuing perfection. Perfection in that environment is having something funny happen or said that night that we remember always and retell the story of, for many years.

Perfection is a smile or laughter shared with a stranger and the uplifting feeling you get from it the rest of the day.

Perfection is entwining yourself in your lover’s arms, finding that exact place to lay and utterly relaxing into sleep without the benefit of alcohol, drugs, or any limbs going numb.

Perfection is music that gives you chills every single time you hear it, even if it’s a song you’ve heard for years.

Perfection is finding something unexpected – the leaf that falls on your car’s window when you’re parked nowhere near a tree.

Perfection is an innocent question from a child. Or an astute observation from them.

Perfection is that inner feeling of “yes, all is right with the world.” Meaning the world you live in; not the entire earth. It’s all fitting into place, it’s all happening the way it should. It’s the disappearance of that gut-wrenching “this isn’t right” in the stomach feeling, replaced with the feeling of excited butterflies, because good things are coming

Perfection is a great first date – conversation flows, you feel sexy, you look good, laughter flows without being forced, there’s mental and physical attraction, but you don’t feel any pressure to make any move. And you don’t want to go home, you just want to spend more time together.

Perfection is waking up in the morning and actually feeling rested and refreshed.

Perfection is finally removing something toxic from your life and having that first-time-in-a-long-time clean feeling. From the soul out.

Perfection is checking in with your friends and hearing that nothing out of the ordinary is happening to them.

Perfection is spending an entire day without working at anything at all. Just doing what you like, being who you are. Without any justification to anyone.

Perfection is hearing from a customer or a friend or a salesperson: “Your timing couldn’t be better.”

Perfection is giving something to someone as a surprise, and seeing the grateful look on their face before they say the words, “Thank you.”

Merry Christmas.

Second and third poem posting

2005-12-19T15:17:00.000-05:00

I didn't post further poetry this weekend as promised, so here are two of my poems today. Enjoy, comment, post your own stuff, whatever! - Shannon
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Grandfather Tree

Wrinkled leathery skin and reaching arms
Stooped over in the twilight
Bent towards the slick road
Patting my rear windshield
Cautioning me to be well and happy
-12/5/92

Children

That’s the color you are when you walk on it.
Hello, friend for today.
They said, “Goddamn snow Lutherans up on the hill.”
Unencumbered.

Strata of sedimentary ice cream.
Tap dancing slowly on the stone decorator steps.
Rubber boots with decals.
Green tile.
Unstable stables, horsing around.
Spinning off, and away.

But?
When you look at it with one eye squinted, it’s much nicer.
- 1/21/92

Travel mug gripe

2005-12-15T11:37:00.000-05:00

Can someone please, please please, invent a travel mug that:

does not get screwed up in the dishwasher
actually keeps hot things hot for a while
doesn't leak after owning it for like, six months
actually holds more than one 6 oz. cup of beverage?

Seriously, people.

More cool websites to visit

2005-12-14T17:36:00.000-05:00

Not that I want you to stay away from my Blog. But these are some neat things I've found, out on that Wacky World Wide Web.

www.AMFJ.com - This is my "baby" brother's website. He keeps it updated each week and usually has some pretty hilarious stuff on it. Go ahead, ask him what AMFJ means. And ask him what color his mohawk is this week.

http://snltranscripts.jt.org - This is the unofficial Saturday Night Live transcripts website. If you miss the show, you can read all about it here. Usually takes 3-4 days to update from the previous week's show.

www.imdb.com/title/tt00933779/quotes - This is the Memorable Quotes from The Princess Bride movie website - totally unofficial of course. Deadly accurate and brings back lots of funny memories of the movie.

www.uppityblueswomen.com - This is the site of one of my favorite bands of all time. Saffire, The Uppity Blues Women will rock you, if you're ever at one of their many gigs around the east part of the country. Buy one of their CDs if they aren't coming to your neighborhood, I promise you won't be disappointed.

I promise some more poetry before the weekend!

"These are a few of my favorite links...la la la"

2005-12-09T16:47:00.000-05:00

I'm trying to do my best Julie Andrews impersonation...anyway. Here's a few websites I visit quite often.

Amazon - great used books in good condition. www.amazon.com
Ebay - great everything for sale, used, new - you can't find it here, make it and sell it yourself. www.ebay.com
Famous Footwear - nice shoes, prices can be a little higher but good quality stuff. www.famousfootwear.com
Sierra Trading Post - great deals and nice gifts too - www.sierratradingpost.com
Petfinder - though I am petless for now, I visit this and its local links to oooh and awww. They've done a fantastic job helping out with lost or abandoned Hurricane Katrina pets. www.petfinder.com
Doug FM - this is not an online station but a local one; I listen to most of the time to this. Their slogan is "We Play Everything" and they ain't lyin'. www.931dougfm.com
Mlive - a very busy site with all things Michigan on it, local and state stories. www.mlive.com

First poem posted

2005-12-07T10:20:00.000-05:00

This is one I wrote in March 1995, not sure where I was in life emotionally. I think this just reflects a play on words more than anything.

THAT’S IT THEN
The sky was gray white that day
No difference between the sky and the ground
It seemed like it
And that seemed like that
But nothing is what it seems
Nothing can be everything
Nothingness is everything-ness
When all is lost
One for all, all for one
It’s all over now
Over and done with
Well done
Well, here we are
Here and there
Over there
Over and over
Overall

Best Hallmark card I've seen in a while

2005-12-05T16:56:00.000-05:00

Seen in the local Rite-Aid:

Front of card shows a woman walking through the grocery store, full cart. A flasher stops in front of her and opens his trenchcoat. Her response: "Thank you for reminding me, I need to get baby carrots."

First posting

2005-12-05T12:58:00.000-05:00

Hello world.
I've finally entered the world of the Blog, took me long enough. I guess I was just too lazy to maintain my own website before.

Any-hoo, here I am, my writing will be posted regularly (probably once a week or so) and anyone is free to comment, suggest, ask questions, tell me good blonde jokes or what have you.

You can also email me privately at sjwriter@yahoo.com if you don't want to post things for other people to read. But know that if it's a really good email, I might post your email to the blog (with permission).

Thanks,
Shannon

Shannon's Writing

Wordpress v Blogger

Everything "got small"

The next installment in the memoir - please let me know what you think

Borders gets on the ebook bandwagon

Saline Celtic Fest July 16 & 17

WNBA website fundraiser

Ta-da!! Here it is!! Please read and comment.

So it's been a month since I "promised" something

I know, I promised...

The writing... yeah.. that.

Writing the novel - week 2

Something's getting written tomorrow!

So much for Tuesdays

Writing the novel - Day 1

Back to writing

Yes it's sort of cheating to copy & paste something here, but it's cool

Book promotion requires mix of old and new

Prank or a real crime?

The waste is just incredible

Ethan update

Ben Stein says, don't panic (a year ago)

A serious topic

I'm with Gigglechick - an undecided voter

This reminds me of "The Story of Pi" - only a better ending

"Better to be pissed off than pissed on"

(HUH!) Researcher says bigfoot just a rubber gorilla suit

Uh-huh. "Bigfoot’s press conference reveals possum DNA"

And hell is freezing over tomorrow.

Another golf post...can you tell I'm going through withdrawal?

Post #70!! I heart Beth Lisick

I don't know when I will golf again...

The Amazing One-Handed Parents

The *new job* update

And the per-gallon price of gas is going to...

Hey, I met someone sorta famous

I love spring!!

How to know if you're watching too much TV

A foot in two worlds

A few pictures of us & our cute kid

Sliding into motherhood

I can't make this stuff up

Women's National Book Association

Baby, baby!

Up half the night (guess I should get used to it)

Today's musings

A new story - it came to me in a dream!

Cripes, it's been a while...

Easy to use website builder

God Help The Price is Right

My sister's blog

HALLELUJAH!!!

Nancy Grace to end show on Court TV

Recent peeves, Kid Rock and Blades of Glory

Weird book titles

'Stray Shopping Carts' wins oddest title

Ten of the best April Fool's Day hoaxes

Miracles never cease

A big day!

I only hope to achieve all 8 - and have money!

The 8 Qualities of a Wealthy Woman

That's more like it

Broadcaster to pay $2M in bomb scare

When PR goes bad

Happy 2007 - and it should be!

I said I wasn't getting married again... but....

Court, and other necessary things

Reprinted from Snopes.com - Happy Friday the 13th

Maybe I'm just homesick... but I like this a lot

Sept 19th - Talk Like A Pirate Day

Dog sprayed by a skunk?

Update on the BS that continues

So it's a little early for this but I think it's fun

What's Been Happening

A different kind of training

Scott's birthday surprise

Refinancing hell

Big trip to NYC

Happy Post-Mother's Day

One of my favorite stories

The new job update