Me, Myself and I...

Business of Happiness - July 24, 2011

2011-07-24T18:17:00.000-04:00

Thirty days ago a friend offered a challenge: Each day for thirty days, take a picture of something that makes you happy.

The challenge was based off of a class experiment from Stanford University wherein all of the students were charged with the exact same task, and at the end of the thirty days, the "happinesses" were analyzed. I think it was actually some kind of marketing experiment (and since the challenge was offered to me by a marketing professional that makes sense), but I'm not going to analyze my thirty days from that line of thought. I'm not even going to try to analyze them at all. The non-definition of "happiness" aside - What qualifies as happiness? Is it mere joy? Pure elation? - this experiment for me was more than just determining what gives me pleasure. It was more about finding pleasure, period.

My thirty days started the Sunday after I buried my mother. To say that I was consumed by grief would be wrong; my emotions surrounding that event are much more complicated than that. However, the challenge definitely came at a time when I was confused and struggling to figure out exactly what I felt, and of all the conflicting emotions in me, I can safely say that happiness wasn't one of them. At first I balked at the notion of even completing the challenge. To think that I could find something each day to be happy about (whatever happy was) seemed ridiculous. But something inside of me, that little niggling part that loves a challenge, no matter what kind, couldn't resist giving it a shot.

I thought it was going to be difficult to come up with something every day. I thought I'd have to manufacture my happiness, and for the first few days, maybe I did a little. I had to search. I had to really think about what to claim for my happiness each day. However, as the month wore on, it became easier. Some days the item or event presented itself with a giant neon light of real pleasure. Others I had to settle for something smaller and just pleasing. Either way, I always managed to find something. And in finding those "somethings," I found something more: happiness is as much created as experienced.

Initially I expected to slog through the challenged; I would complete it, but I wouldn't take anything from it. It was less than two weeks in, however, before my seach each day became a pleasurable experience. I wanted to find something to be happy about. And I realized that it didn't have to be the big things. Sometimes it's the little things like a cat napping beside you or a new favorite color of nail polish that really do get you through, that really do bring happiness into your world. I learned not to expect happiness to find me, but to search for it, enthusiastically and hard, if need be. At a time when I needed all the happiness I could get - in whatever way I could get it and whatever way I could recognize it - this challenge took on a life of its own.

As my thirty days started to come to a close, I became a little sad. The every day hunt for happiness was ending. True, I could still just take that moment each day to savor the little things that come my way, but there's something special about publicly celebrating it. It makes the search more real, and it makes the pleasure experienced more real, too. So I've decided that instead of ending at thirty days, I'm going to make this a year-long experiment: 365 days of happiness.

The first half of 2011 was bad for me. It felt like everything was out of my control, and everything tht happened was negative. I'm not suggesting that searching for a little bit of happiness each day for the next 335 days is going to change my collective luck, or the world's efforts to bring me down, but a little happiness each day - sought or stumbled upon - surely can't hurt.

Alone - June 25, 2011

2011-06-25T16:06:00.000-04:00

Five small letters, really. But when you string them all together into the word "alone," it starts to mean a lot, clear context put into the definition of "separate; solitary; without aid or help."

I've spent most of my life "alone." When I was in 2nd Grade, I became a latch-key kid, responsible for getting myself home safely, starting my homework, and going about the latter third of my day without supervision or companionship. Even when my parents got home, I was generally relegated to my bedroom to wait until suppertime (and then to return there afterwards) or at the very least alone in my thoughts on my couch. In college I had one roommate for six weeks, another two for an entire year that was broken up significantly by overnights with their fiance and boyfirend, and then I lived alone for two years. The few years between then and moving to Kentucky, I was living with my mom but our schedules didn't really coordinate to where we spent a lot of time in the apartment together, and even when we were there, we were in separate rooms for any number of reasons.

I get how to do alone; I'm an expert at it. But, it sucks, and now more than ever because in the last couple of weeks I've realized that there's a vast difference between being independent (which is what I've just generally considered myself - and what I considered my definition of alone to be - my whole life) and actually being alone. Being independent means that you can take care of yourself when the need arises. Being alone means that you have no one to turn to when taking care of yourself gets too hard. Or at least being alone feels like that.

At my mother's funeral, after we processed back up the aisle at the end of the service, I asked the minister what I was supposed to do. He said I could either greet people as they left, or I could go to the basement where a luncheon was going to be served and greet people down there. I knew some people wouldn't stay for the lunch, and I didn't want to miss thanking anyone for being there, so I stayed, gretting each person as they moved to the back of the church. And I did it by myself, left there by my mother's sister who did not speak to me at all except to say goodbye as she left at the end of the day. It was while standing there, taking full responsibility for closing out my mom's life with some "thank you"s, hand shakes, and hugs that I realized just how alone I am.

I have family, that's true, but I was an only child who really only had one parent. And that parent is now gone. The other family (some at the service and some not) might have stood with me if I'd asked, but I didn't. That was me being independent, thinking that I could handle things on my own. I could, of course, but not without getting that first niggling sensation of being really truly alone.

In the weeks since the funeral I've thought about this a lot because the feelings of being alone, that really truly alone, have begun to sink in. After the friend who accompanied me back to Nebraska returned home, I welcomed the respite, but not for as long as I would have anticipated. I wanted people around me. I wanted the silence around me to be broken by something other than the TV. I wanted someone to listen to me as I remembered the backstories behind the last boxes of pictures I brought back with me. I wanted someone to suggest dinner, to eat with me. I wanted anything, but any in-person contact I've had with anyone since getting home has been at my instigation. No one is offering to take care of me (I guess I can't expect anyone to), but now I notice it more acutely. Maybe those people were just giving me my space, allowing me to having the grieving time I needed. Or maybe they just didn't know well enough to ask, to insert themselves into that void. I'm not blaming anyone, and I can't say I haven't done/wouldn't do the same if on the same outside position. But, either way it doesn't change the longing I've suddenly felt for something more than what is real.

I'm not sure that I'd know how to let someone take care of me after all those years of living so independently when I told myself over and over that I was enough, but I find myself wanting that caring more, and that's the cruel part. Now that I want someone there, no one is.

Mixed Emotions - June 12, 2011

2011-06-12T23:58:00.000-04:00

My mother died yesterday.

A lot of people I knew wouldn't even be able to function this soon after a loss like that, let alone blog about the experience, but I find that writing helps me process emotion, and over the last 24 hours, I've felt that if there really is a "right way" to grieve, I'm probably doing it wrong.

Don't get me wrong - I loved my mother. But she and I were not particularly close in that "best friends, tell each other everything, she's the first person I called with any big news" kind of way. Maybe it was because she was raised stoically (I don't really know; I never asked), or maybe it was because she was working so much when I was a child (she held two jobs for most of my life). Whatever the reason, we didn't have a close relationship. So though I am sad at the loss - several times today I've thought "it's weird that I've been in town this long and haven't even called her" even though I know why I'm here - and though I've cried at various points both during the trip back to Nebraska and since arriving, I've also found myself laughing and joking and trying to have a good time despite the circumstances. And that feels odd if only under some kind of social construct that exists in my mind to say that I should be truly mourning and laughter and enjoyment of food and company somehow negates my love for my mother.

A friend of mine offered to make the trip to Nebraska with me even though when she left Pennsylvania, and we then left Kentucky, we didn't know how long we'd be here. And having her along has been great because even in those moments of sadness, I have her to think about, to "live for" in some respects. Today, after we'd picked up mom's few remaining belongings from the nursing home, we were driving back to town, and I was emotional. Seeing the bed mom had passed in, and knowing that the only physical pieces of her left were in four storage boxes headed for the homeless shelter thrift store, I was a little choked up. But needing to think of something else, I pointed out a roadside sign that I've passed numerous times in my life: an historical marker of the Oregon Trail. Melissa slammed on the brakes and pulled a U-turn to get a picture of the most awesome computer game ever come to life. And it made me laugh. Hard. We took pictures, put funny captions with them and posted them on Facebook. Maybe that's not normal for a grieving child, but I was so thankful for that moment of hilarity.

Maybe it's because I've been mentally preparing for this moment for a little while that I can put some of that grief aside; it's grief that to some extent I faced when I made the decision to stop treatment and put her into hospice care. The loss is still real and will continue to get more real, I guess, as time goes on and I really can't just pick up the phone, but I find myself not lost in it, and that's a comfort, even if it's maybe a little odd.

March 08, 2010 - 5K Training...Day...No effing clue!

2010-03-08T20:28:00.001-05:00

Wow! Now you have to give me some credit for chutzpuh. I posted on Day 1 and then just never came back. But I didn't completely make a promise and flake out. I did train for about three weeks straight then got busy then got sick then apathetic then sick again, and now we've rounded back to committed. At least back to Day 1 of Recommitted.

I headed back to the gym today determined to pick up where I left off. I knew that starting all the way over with only 20 days left before the 5K would just be pointless. And if I can't even run for 90 seconds at a time 20 days out, what's the point anyway?

I completed the day's training. I can't say it was easy, but my ass hasn't seen the inside of a gym in almost a month and I was legitimately worried about my head starting to pound somewhere in the middle of the run (hello turning 30 and the onset of migraines!), but I made it. At this rate I'll be able to run for five minutes at a time on race day which isn't great, but it's something.

A part of me wonders why I should even go through with the facade of "running" the race when there's a good chance that I'll technically run less than half of it. Granted it's a run/walk, but I didn't fork over $25 to do something that I could do for free outside my front door, even if I am getting a t-shirt out of the deal. A friend is even driving down from Pittsburgh to help cheer me on, and I feel bad because it doesn't seem like that big of an accomplishment. I'm not going to be able to run the whole thing, so I won't win. I won't break any land speed records. I'll just simply cross a line at some point. Kind of seems anti-climactic. Yet, I keep telling myself it's a first goal. Part of the accomplishment will just be lining up that day and the other part will be crossing that line, no matter what happens in the middle.

Then...I pick a new line. And I commit to being more consistent in my training.

Random thoughts:

1. Lesson learned at the gym today: If you're forced to put your iPod in your bra while running, for all that's holy, don't put the volume wheel against your skin. Nearly made myself deaf at one point somehow!

2. At my little apartment building we all have individual rolling garbage cans. First, I hate how people put their trash in mine because they're all clearly labeled, but more than that, I hate how other people's cans end up next to my building and mine ends up next to theirs and even more than that, I hate how our trash cans get out of alphabetical order in the line out back of the building. Yes, I have issues.

3. If you're looking for a good book in the wake of the Alice in Wonderland craze, I recommend Alice, I Have Been by Melanie Benjamin, the "true" story of Alice.

January 04, 2010 - 5K Training...Day 1

2010-01-04T21:25:00.000-05:00

And it begins...

With only 83 days left until the 5K (notice the little "countdown of doom" widget in the corner?) it's time to start preparing in earnest. Ok...at all.

I went to the gym today with nervous excitement. I even snuck out of work a few minutes earlier just because I couldn't handle the wait anymore, and let me tell you that is saying a lot. I was looking forward to running. Clearly I've either been hit on the head or been invaded by a body snatcher. Either way, I was almost giddy in the car. Don't get me wrong. There was also a little bit of an "I could throw up at any moment just thinking about what I'm attempting to do" thing going on as well, but mainly it was excitement because if there is one thing I love, it's a challenge.

In the same way that I find out all of my information (remember when there was a such a thing as a card catalog and encyclopedias...when you actually had to go to a library when you had a question you wanted answers?), I went to the internet and found a site called "Couch to 5K." Perfect! It has a nine week training program, which is two weeks less than I have, leaving me room to repeat a week if necessary, and looking ahead I'm predicting that's gonna happen around Week 5.

Week 1, however, is not what most people would consider very strenous. But when you're obese and running for essentially the first time since the damn mile run twice a year in 9th and 10th grade, it's a little more daunting. Today the goal was, as it will be twice more this week, to start with a brisk 5 minute walk followed by 8 repetitions (or about 20 minutes worth) of 60 seconds of jogging and 90 seconds of walking.

By the time I got changed into my workout clothes, I was feeling a little more nervous than excited and decided to ease myself into things with fve minutes on the bike. Finally I struck out on the track and realized two things immediately. First a crowded track sucks, and second, I don't really enjoy running (or even walking really) in a continually clockwise pattern. I don't know what that says about me, but I guess I'll have to get used to it because the track runs clockwise and Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, and guess when I've chosen to get in my three training sessions a week.

It wasn't as hard as I thought it was going to be. The fact that I didn't have to be revived with oxygen and/or fluids at the end is pretty much a success in my book. My calves started hurting about halfway through, and I definitely could have walked faster than I was running during the last lap, but I made it through. Success. And as I kept reminding myself when I felt bad for not going faster or craving my next round of walking...it's a start.

Random thoughts:

1. People at the grocery store: If the self-checkout lane says "1 to 15 items" that does not constitute a cart load.

2. Three years in Kentucky, and it still cracks me up when they cancel school because it's cold.

3. Despite the comment above, I'd like to say "DAMN, IT'S COLD!!"

January 01, 2010 - Book List Part 3

2010-01-01T17:18:00.001-05:00

Wish I could say that I was just so busying partying like it was 2009 that I just didn't have the time to post the final part of my book list, but the truth is I just forgot. Here it is!

September, Part 2:

The Graveyard Book by Neil Gaiman, 320 pages (*** ½, I didn’t know until I picked it up and saw the Newberry Award sticker that this was a “kid’s book,” but I think that’s a misnomer in the same vein as Harry Potter being a kid’s book. It’s not as in-depth as Harry Potter is (though there’s only one volume, so it’s hard to be as involved as HP), but the characters created are just as fantastical and yet believable. A baby escapes the house where his family has been murdered, crawling into the nearby graveyard where he is taken in by a childless couple who’ve been dead several hundred years, and through the power of the Gray Lady is given the Freedom of the Graveyard, allowing him to interact with the souls residing there, as well as the outside world when it comes calling, and it does, at various points throughout Bod’s (short for Nobody) life. I’ll admit that I got choked up at the ending.)

As Nature Made Him: The Boy Who Was Raised as a Girl by John Colapinto, 279 pages (***, In the late 1960’s, a circumcision went horribly wrong, and on the advice of one of the foremost sexual psychology experts in the world, a couple made the very difficult choice of raising one of their twins boys as a girl. The book chronicals the child’s experience from the beginning, culling memories, medical records, and medical journal articles for all sides of the story. But mainly the author relies on the narrative provided by the child affected, as he finally broke his personal silence, revealing himself to the world. The personal side of the story is just as fascinating as the medical protocol established because of it.)

Holding Out by Anne O. Faulk, 528 pages (*** ½, This is a reread from several years ago, but I saved it because it was so good. When the Chief Justice of the Supreme Court fails to be impeached by the U.S. Congress for abuse of his wife that leads her to suicide, Lauren Fontaine gets angry. Then she vows to get justice, enlisting the women of the United States to embark on a sex strike (borrowing from the Greek legend of Lysistrata) until the men who let Larry Underwood off see the error of their ways. The book is humorous, intelligent, and great look at just what sisterhood can do to change “feminism” from a theme of victimization back to power.)

The Good Nanny by Benjamin Cheever, 256 pages (** ¾, An interesting look at the power of guilt, suspicion, and racism and what the consequences of all three put together can be. A hard-working couple from NYC move to the suburbs, but in order to continue with their professional lives, they must hire a nanny to look after their two girls. The nanny appears too good to be true, and as such, the parents start to get suspicious of her, as well as resenting the affection the girls heap on her. What happens because of that is what takes this book from whiny to thought-provoking. When you feel threatened, what are you capable of causing to happen?)

Word Freak: Heartbreak, Triumph, Genius, and Obsession in the World of Competitive Scrabble Players by Stefan Fatsis, 384 pages (** ¾, As a child I used to play Scrabble with my parents and then make them leave the board as it was upon conclusion so that I could take graph paper and make crossword puzzles out of the completed game. If ever there was a word freak, it was me. Yet, having read this book, I realize now that I am completely normal and sane, as opposed to some of the characters, real-life people, that Fatsis introduces you to. The history of the game and the personal biosketches of the competitors are compelling, but the almost mathematical formulas used in constructing high-level competitive games and the long lists of words that you will only ever encounter on a high-level competitive game were tedious in their descriptions. As interested as I was in the subject of the book, it took a lot for me to slog through it.)

October:

Angels and Demons by Dan Brown, 592 pages (*** ½), I’ll give Brown one thing: he can write a page-turner. I read The DaVinci Code a few years ago, so I was out of order, but it doesn’t really matter. The stories aren’t dependant upon each other. However, they are very reminiscent of each other. And now, knowing TDC is the second one, I can see some of the claims by people that it’s a retread. It is. You can see the same race to prove/disprove religion, the benevolent/helpful figure that turns out to be evil, or at least to have his own agenda. There’s even another guy in a wheelchair. I wish I’d read Angels and Demons first because I think it’s the better of the two in a lot of ways, not the least is that I like the main character, symbologist Robert Langdon, a lot more in this one.

A Reliable Wife by Robert Goolrick, 320 pages (****, A must-read! The staccato and sometimes disjointed sentence structure and thought proceses of the characters might have thrown me off except for the fascinating story that Goolrick weaves. Robert Truitt, a rich man in a northern Wisconsin town, advertises for a “reliable wife” in a newspaper, and Catherine Land arrives, ready to claim the title of Mrs. Truitt and everything that entails. That Catherine has a scathing past and a scheme of her own isn’t really surprising, but the way the story unfolds will keep you guessing. Add on top of the page-turning suspense the undercurrent of sexual tension, frustration, and consummation, and it’s a book that’ll make your blood pulse!)

The Lost Symbol by Dan Brown, 528 pages (***, I’m hesitant to grade the newest Dan Brown “race for the truth” novel this high, but it’s another pretty consistent page-turner, and there was one moment around page 375 when I gasped, a huge piece of the puzzle connecting in my mind before it was revealed. But something is missing from this book that seemed present in the other two. The symbols and the chase are similar in their predecessors, but the ending left me feeling cheated somehow. A “that’s it??” moment. Still, I’m giving the book extra credit just for being based in Washington, DC, one of my favorite cities period.)

Addition by Toni Jordan, 272 pages (*** ¼, Grace, the main character, has been obsessed with number since she was “8-ish”, and numbers rule her world. The number of bristles in her toothbrush, the number of books on any shelf, the number of forks, spoons, and knives she keeps on hand. When she walks, she counts. When she talks, she counts. Her world is regimented and segmented and ruled by the numbers surrounding her. Until she steals a banana from the cart of the man behind her and ends up falling in love with him. Grace’s stream of consciousness, both before and after meeting Seamus, is a fascinating look at the mind of an obsessive-compulsive.)

The Monsters of Templeton by Lauren Groff, 384 pages (** ¾, Take Cooperstown, NY and all of its baseball/Last of the Mohicans lore, change it’s name to Templeton, throw in a Loch Ness like monster, and a potentially pregnant grad student who’s been inseminated by her advisor, and you get a lot of different monsters in Templeton. As Willie, the main character returns home, lost, she discovers that the father she’d grown up knowing about (and it was one of three possible men) is not really that person or persons at all. On a search to discover her father’s identity by using clues from her own family history, Willie unveils more than just the story of herself, but the story of Templeton. I was intrigued and wanted to get to the conclusion, but the story drug a little. The saving graces were the diary entries, letters, and accounts from Willie’s ancestors.)

Handle with Care by Jodi Picoult, 512 pages (** ½, I knew how this book was going to end after the first
ten pages. Why? Because while Jodi Picoult is a good writer, she is not original. She changes characters, locations, and situations, but the general themes rotate throughout her books. It’s like spinning a wheel, and for this book you land on the “sick child, courtroom, other child in emotional crisis, twist at the end” combination. And the quote-unquote “sucker punch” at the end of the book comes nowhere close to the one at the end of My Sister’s Keeper. Read that one instead.)

November:

The Time Traveler’s Wife by Audrey Niffenegger, 560 pages (* ¾, I put off seeing the movie when it came out because I wanted to read the book first. I finally got around to it, and I was very disappointed. The concept is imaginative and intriguing. The excution left me confused, annoyed, and a little robbed. I felt as though I’d seen this before, and I think it’s because JK Rowling has already patented the traveling back in time to watch yourself in another era. I wanted to be moved by Henry and Clare’s story, but I was really just left with an “eh” feeling.)

The Bone Garden by Tess Gerritsen, 370 pages (*** ¼, The end of the mystery that pervades the book (Who is the West End Slayer?) wraps up just a tad too quickly, with not enough hint ahead of time for my taste, but the rest of the book is completely engaging. And that’s saying a lot for a book about a serial killer, extreme poverty, grave robbing, and autopsies!)

New Moon by Stephenie Meyer, 576 pages (***, A re-read in preparation for the movie, which will probably only result in my being disappointed by the movie since in the two hours since I finished re-reading I’ve already yelled at a commercial, “That didn’t happen!”)

The Race by Richard North Patterson, 336 pages (*** ½, When I was eleven I decided I wanted to be President. This novel, among other things, is proof to me that while I might do an excellent job in the position, there’s no way that I have the stomach, the mind-turning, soul-selling ability to get it. Corey Grace, a senator from Ohio (imagine a Republican Barak Obama only white), decides to run for President, pitting him against an overly ambitious senator from Pennsylvania and a televangelist who labels himself as God’s candidate. The book is incredibly insightful into current politics and what it takes to win. The truth of it all makes you want to shower upwards. There’s a heavy influence on the role of racism and homophobia in the Republican party and politics in general as Corey deals with the “demons” of his past and present. A few crazy terrorist actions, clearly existing only as plot movers, are what keeping this from getting a better grade.)

December:
Love the One You’re With by Emily Giffin, 339 pages (** ¾, Giffin’s books are easy to burn through, but this one took more time for me to get into any than any of her others. Ellen, the main character, suddenly sees an ex-boyfriend while crossing a street, and that chance encounter leads her to question the decisions she’s made since their devastating (at least for her) breakup. Faced with the temptation of what could have been versus the picture-perfect present that feels a little too stifflingly perfect, Ellen faces a choice between Leo, her past love, and Andy, her husband. I didn’t really feel all that sympathetic for Ellen and wanted to yell at her quite a few times. It’s one thing to wonder “what if”; we’ve all done it. It’s quite another to actually jeopardizes the life you currently have to seek the answer.)

Skipping Christmas by John Grisham, 177 pages (****, A perennial favorite! A must-read every holiday season! Don’t ever watch the movie version with Tim Allen and Jamie Lee Curtis. It doesn’t even come close.)

The Penny by Joyce Meyer and Deborah Beford, 243 pages (***, A teenager’s life is changed when she stoops to pick up a penny, starting off a chain reaction that affects not only her life, but the lives of those around her in a myriad of ways. She learns forgiveness, self-worth, and strength, as well as God’s work to get her to each of those places. The religious overtones of the book were not as good as the real meat of the story, almost like a gauzy drape over the top. But the real struggles of Jenny as she tries to overcome abuse and forge a friendship with an African-American girl in 1950’s St. Louis is much more compelling.)

A Cup of Comfort for Christmas edited by Colleen Snell, 307 pages (*** ½, I try to read at least a little bit of this book each year to get myself in the Christmas spirit. Though it didn’t accomplish that this year, it did make me cry to the point of getting a headache. I’m a huge sap, and I love the holiday and the spirit of giving that naturally comes with it. This book just personifies the big and little ways that the Christmas spirit can work its magic in all of us by sharing stories from readers about particular Christmas memories. If you want a good dose of the holiday spirit, or just a good cry, definitely pick this one up.)

Random Thoughts:

1. I have no desire to cook today whatsoever. None. Lunch was an english muffin with peanut butter, and even that was late because I just didn't even want to use the toaster.

2. I'm watching The Biggest Loser: Season 3 marathon on Bravo, and I didn't realize what a crappy host Caroline Rhea was until now. God bless Alison Sweeney!

3. Two more days before I return to work and have to balance that along with eating well and starting the 5K training. I need to write down a plan of attack or this is never going to work!

December 30, 2009 - Book List...Part 2

2009-12-30T19:06:00.000-05:00

As promised, here is the second section of the books I read this month. Hopefully something strikes your fancy.

June:

Case Histories by Kate Atkinson, 400 pages (** ¾, One of the reviews said it’s one of the best who-dun-it stories in a long time. I’m not quite inclined to agree with that because for all of the emphasis on the crimes that are being investigated by the main character, a former police officer, there’s not a whole lot of real crime solving. You get the conclusion at the end, which up until the last 40 pages or so I had no clue what it would be, but it all feels a little more like dumb luck than good detective work.)

The Office of Desire by Martha Moody, 336 pages (** ¼, As this novel went along it got better. In the beginning it felt very disjointed even though all of the characters work, laugh, and love in the same small medical practice office. There’s a saving of souls, a tender death, a gruesome suicide, and covered-up homosexuality running rampant, but even with all of that, it felt like the book didn’t really “get going” until about the last 100 pages. And the end left me just feeling blasé. Still, I did like the author’s writing style, and she offers some very good musings on the character’s situations and life in general.)

The Man of My Dreams by Curtis Sittenfeld, 304 pages (* ¾, Maybe I’ve just hit a little bad streak, but nothing I’ve read lately has lived up to my expectations. The synopsis of the book suggests that the plot will follow the ups and downs of Hannah’s search for the man of her dreams. It doesn’t at all, really. Moreso it shows the myriad of ways that she can sit back and not do anything when opportunity presents itself, self-sabotage when she actually lucks into something, or just get sucked into a fantasy of what’s to come with no real reason to believe it ever will. And who does she end up “in love” with at the end of the book? You can read it to find out, but I don’t really recommend it.)

The Spy Who Came for Christmas by Dave Morrell, 248 pages (***, Did you know that the Three Wisemen were really spies? At least that’s a theory that Paul Kagan, the spy who steals a baby on Christmas Eve and takes refuge with the crippled son and just-beaten wife of an alcoholic espouses. I’m not a big spy novel fan. I don’t even enjoy most James Bond movies, though Pierce Brosnan did a lot to at least get me to watch. But the book was a dollar, and I figured “what the heck??” And it was really good. A page-turner, in fact. It almost makes me wish there was a series. The Spy Who Came for Columbus Day could be big.)

Working Stiff by Grant Stoddard, 304 pages (** ½ to ** ¾, I’m a little bit iffy on the grading of this one. I guess picking up a book with the description of how a woefully virginal English boy gets sucked into a world of kinky sex because he’s being paid to write about it and expecting to not be disgusted by parts of it was expecting a lot, but it didn’t meet all of my expectations as being particularly insightful, or even just raucously funny. In the end I felt more sorry for Grant than enlightened. Not so much for the crazy, sometimes slightly frightening, always awkward situations that he puts himself in for a paycheck, but because he says that he’s more of the type to cuddle afterwards and call the next day, yet as time goes on, it seems that he’s willing to settle for anything but that, even in his personal relationships. The whole book I just couldn’t help thinking, “Oh, I could never do that!” But for an eye-opener “that really HAPPENS?!” kind of read…you might want to give it a shot.)

July:

Shadow Baby by Alison McGhee, 256 pages (**, Too much imagination hindered this book for me. The main character, Clara winter (and she lowercases her last name), goes through life making up stories about the people in her life and the people she knows were in her life once, including her grandfather, and the twin sister that died at birth. The people she’s surrounded by most, her mother and an old man, are word economists to the T, so you’re left mainly with Clara’s interpretation, or outright fabrication of things. And the stories change to suit her needs. I wasn’t really invested in the book until the last 50 or so pages.)

Harry Potter & The Half-Blood Prince by J.K. Rowling, 652 pages (***, I’ll admit that this is a re-read in anticipation of the movie release mid-month. Apart from the one scene that I literally gasped at while reading the first time, I didn’t remember much of the book. And re-reading it, I was reminded of how dependant one book in the series is on the others. Rowling does a fantastic job of weaving the important details through the series, but it forces you to remember things, and if you haven’t read the book immediately preceding/in the last two years, some things might leave you scratching your head for a moment, trying to play the game of “Memory.” But still…a fast, thoroughly enjoying read.)

The Rule of Four by Ian Caldwell & Dustin Thomason, 464 pages (** ¾, The excitement of the novel gets lost a little in the complicated riddle that is the Hypnertomachia, a Renaissance text the main character obsesses over while trying to unlock its secrets. The story, once all of the layers are removed is a pretty good “who done it?”, but it gets weighed down by the prose and the minutiae of the riddle-solving. It felt as though I needed a degree in Renaissance literature to get all of the clues or at least stay in it enough to understand when the solution was found. That said, the ending was great. Maybe predictable, but I felt at peace with the ending of this one.)

Once Upon a Day by Lisa Tucker, 368 pages (*** ¼, A girl with the naivete of Brendan Fraser ala Blast From the Past arrives in St. Louis to find the brother that walked away from the “Sanctuary” that their father has kept them sequestered in for nineteen years. As she searches for him then finds him, and the truth about their father/mother/and past, she grows up quickly but not without stumbles. The book was very engaging, and I couldn’t help getting caught up in the mysteries that surround Dorothea and her family. I almost wish the book had gone for the slightly more painful ending, but I wasn’t disappointed in any part of the book. That’s saying a lot given the last several books I’ve read.)

Secrets of a Shoe Addict by Beth Harbison, 368 pages (*** ½, Minus the somewhat pat ending, this was, quite possibly, the best book I’ve read this year. Laugh out-loud funny. I mean, laugh OUT-LOUD. Especially not to be missed is the date one of the women goes on, with a guy and his marionette.)

August:

Nineteen Minutes by Jodi Picoult, 480 pages (***, Jodi Picoult is a really good writer. Her style is fluid, her observations about life are dead-on accurate in surprising metaphoric ways, and she crafts a pretty good story. My problem is that I sort of feel like all her stories are the same. There’s a really long – usually around 350 page – buildup and then bam…everything gets resolved with a big twist at the end. Maybe it’s nice to know you should be looking for something, but it feels formulaic. And this book felt much the same to me as The Pact in terms of plot. I liked The Pact better, minus the inconsistencies in detail that the author, herself, didn’t seem to catch.)

Accidentally Dead by Dakota Cassidy, 352 pages (***, Despite the author’s penchant for spelling out words phonetically or exaggeratedly or punctuating every other word to try to emphasize a point (Jay-suess, cooooool, This.Is.Not.Good.) and the main character’s penchant for swearing, the story of a dental hygienist who, on her first day at work, accidentally gets turned into the undead by a patient suffering the ill-effects of anesthesia flows pretty well. I read it in a day and had a warm fuzzy feeling at the end. I was rooting for the characters and liked the end. I did get the feeling while reading this, however, that the author had spent some serious time with Twilight while writing it, so if you didn’t like that series, you probably won’t like this.)

Oxygen by Carol Casella, 320 pages (***, This was on its way to a good solid 3 ½ stars before a twist near the end that, while it explained why the main character’s patient died while on the surgical table, seemed too out of the blue and too sensational. Still, the author, who is an anesthesiologist in her “real life”, has a great writing style. Her language is incredibly descriptive without being over the top. And she infused her main character with a sense of grief and guilt that was very believable. It’s a fairly fast read with lots of small chapters, so I’d definitely recommend it.)

The Elevator by Angela Hunt, 352 pages (** ¾, I’ve read a few other novels by Angela Hunt, and normally I love them, but this one felt like there were some things missing. The basic premise is that three women, all with a secret, get trapped in an elevator as a hurricane bears down on Tampa. Hunt is a Christian author, but it felt like any sort of faith-based content was left out until almost the very end, and even then it was the least I’ve seen in any of her books. I don’t want to be hit over the head by it, but it felt like there should have been more. The ending also felt incomplete to me. But I give it a decent score because it was a fast, engaging read as the mysteries played out on the pages.)

The Baby Merchant by Kit Reed, 336 pages (*** ¼, A very fast read that grips you and doesn’t really let go. Sometime in the future (could be nearer than we’d like to believe) “the crop” has dried up, leaving people who waited too long to have children scrambling for babies. Enter the titular character who rescues over-worked mothers by stealing their babies and giving them to wealthy couples. The book follows the baby merchant as he makes one last delivery in an effort to save his own mother’s dignity though he understands quite well that she never really loved him. It also follows the “supplier,” the mother whose baby he’s intent on taking. It’s a very interesting story focusing on just what makes a parent.)

The Shack by William P. Young, 256 pages (** ¾, It’s very hard to give a grade to a book that so many people have read and claimed to have an extraordinary influence on their lives. Admittedly that’s one of the reasons that I read it at all. A father who is grieving the loss of his daughter, who was abducted and murdered years before, is sent an invitation by “Papa” (his wife’s name for God) to spend a weekend at the shack where the daughter’s bloody clothes were found. When the man accepts the invitation he’s greeted by three individuals (or is it just one?) who try to teach him about God’s love in ways that he has not realized it before. There were parts (and admittedly they were strange parts, parts where even I thought “huh?”) where I choked up, but most of the book I spent feeling confused, not quite getting the lesson that I was being taught. Was that my bias and filters or the product of an author trying to espouse God’s intent for the world at large? I don’t know. It’s one you’ll have to read for yourself to judge.)

Barbie and Ruth by Robin Gerber, 288 pages (** ½, The book is supposedly about the Barbie doll and the woman who created her, Ruth Handler, but Barbie is really just a minor character in what appears to be a rehash of Handler’s autobiography, which Gerber quotes quite a bit. I wanted more about Barbie, but she comes only as a chronological accomplishment in the founding, building, and then trials of Mattel, which Handler founded with her husband, Elliot. The animosity of Barbara, Ruth’s daughter and Barbie’s namesake, toward her smaller version is glossed over, but you get the impression that it could be a book in and of itself. Interesting trivia though…Ken is named after Handler’s son (so Barbie has been essentially dating her brother for forty years), who turned out to be gay in real life. No wonder Barbie and Ken never married!)

September, Part 1:

American Wife by Curtis Sittenfeld, 576 pages (***, I want to give this fewer stars but I can’t. After I got past the first sixty or so pages which were torturous for some reason, it really grabbed me and pulled me in. My biggest problem with the novel, which is a biographical retrospective of the main character, the First Lady of the United States, is that it is, intentionally, a novelization of Laura Bush, complete with 9/11 references. The only part that deviates from the script that becomes increasingly more “real” as the book goes on is what saved it in the end. I won’t spoil that for you. I will add, however, that if George W. is really anything like Chuckie B., the main character’s husband, it’s no wonder that I don’t like him in real life. He’s a real ass in the book! And I don’t want anyone to be President if they’re afraid of the dark!)

Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury, 208 pages (*** ¼, It’s a classic that everyone’s supposed to read, and I’ve tried to get into it before but never managed to get past more than a few pages. But it’s the book for the book club this month, so…. In a future that’s undetermined date-wise, Montag, the main character is a fireman whose job is not to put out fires, but to start them. Anyone caught reading a book has their home destroyed, the idea being that if you keep the ideas from people’s heads, you keep them from being confused. The startling allusions to our own time (though Bradbury wrote it in the 50’s) is what makes the book. You can draw direct comparisons from Montag’s world to ours, and it’s indeed unsettling. The only thing keeping it from getting a full four stars was the disjointed sentence structure that made it hard for me to concentrate while reading.)

November 22, 1963 by Adam Braver, 200 pages (****, Fantastic! A mixture of fact and fiction surrounding the infamous day in Dallas, Braver gets inside the head of Jackie Kennedy as she struggles to deal with her husband’s assassination while also fictionalizing the thoughts and feelings of those around her in the moment: Kennedy’s chief of staff, an ambulance driver/mortuary assistant, a man present for the autopsy, Abraham Zzapruder, and the people at the White House charged with arranging a presidential funeral. It’s hard to distinguish what’s real and what’s from the mind of Braver, but none of it seems as though it doesn’t belong. It was a page turner that I couldn’t put down.)

Random thoughts:
1. Today the hairstylist I've been going to the past few times and who has told me (or intimated) that he is straight, came out to me. Then he promptly told me that he was giving up the "demon homosexuality" for New Year's. I wanted to tell him I don't think it works that way. I also wanted to tell him that straight men just don't do as good of hair. Fact. I'd rather he stay sinful and fabulous if it means I don't have to hunt for a new stylist!

2. Three days into the Biggest Loser Wii fitness program and I am SORE!!

3. Some people are just too anti-germ for their own good. I wanted to lean over a toilet stall divider today and ask the mother who was freaking out about her daughter touching the toilet just how many fatalities she's heard of attributed to germs from a public restroom. The only part of me to touch a toilet seat is my ass, and it's not like it then goes into the kitchen and cooks my food.

December 29, 2009 - "...Give Me a Book I've Never Read"

2009-12-29T08:49:00.001-05:00

Applicable to nothing in my weight loss journey, for the next few days I'm going to be posting the list of books that I've read this year. I've always been a reader, averaging 1 or 2 books a month, but with the unemployment thing this year, I got quite a bit more reading done. Because the comprehensive list would be too long to post as one blog, I'll break it into chunks starting with January to May before the deluge begins. Each book listed contains my review. Take it for what you will.

Abraham Lincoln once said, "My best friend is a person who will give me a book I've never read." Hopefully at least by giving you my reading list for the year you'll find something you want to give a whirl.

January:

Family Trust by Amanda Brown, 336 pages (*** ½, From the author of Legally Blonde, which I didn’t know was a book, this story finds over-worked Becca suddenly tied to Edward, a male socialite whose only job is to attend charity functions with stupid names, through a little orphaned girl named Emily. Named co-guardians of the four-year-old, Becca and Edward must learn to handle not only a small child but also each other. Formulaic with hyperbolic characters, but it was still a fun read. Emily, the four-year-old, is a hoot! And you can’t help rooting for Edward and Becca.)

February:

Don’t Look Down by Jennifer Cruisie & Bob Mayers, 384 pages (** ½, I’m not a big fan of books written by more than one individual. I think it tends to muddy the writing, and while I didn’t see it here, it did feel like there were two different genres trying to be packed into one book. On one hand you had total chick lit, but on the other there were explosions, and snipers, and CIA operatives. Plus, the end had way too many twists and turns (not all of them believable or really adequately explained). I didn’t really hate the book, but I didn’t really like it either.)

March:

Welcome to Temptation by Jennifer Cruisie, 416 pages (***, Of the two Jennifer Cruisie books I’ve read lately, this is the better one. It’s the same storyline, just packed in a different setting with different names. But, I liked her characterizations better in this one. The independent woman has more depth, a little something more to hide. The standoffish guy is a little less Rambo, a little more chauvinist, which for some reason makes him more likeable. Or maybe that’s just my issues surfacing. The plot’s convoluted like the last one, but a little more believeable. Sort of. Fluff, but a pretty good read.)

Bleachers by John Grisham, 176 pages (** ½, Not at all what I was expecting, but ok. An injured, damaged high school football player returns home to say goodbye to the dying coach that in turn made his life hell and made him who is he, good or bad. Some of the relationships seemed genuine, others seemed too superficial to be included as thoroughly as they were. But, there’s something about the book that makes you realize you can’t escape your past, no matter how hard you want to, and sometimes you just have to embrace it to be able to move on.)

April:

Little Pink Slips by Sally Koslow, 400 pages (*** ¼, An editor of a venerable ladies magazine, Magnolia Gold finds herself being progressively pushed out of the position by which she is almost singularly identified. And as the story goes along, the mayhem that exists around her escalates. I found myself enjoying the craziness, but hoping for more in the way of fulfillment for Magnolia. Still, it was a very enjoyable read.)

Lamb: The Gospel According to Biff, Christ’s Childhood Pal by Christopher Moore, 444 pages (** ¾, The concept is unique: a narrative of the “lost” years of Jesus’ life. And the protagonist is likeable, but I couldn’t get past the crazy way that Jesus, and Biff, roam the earth in search of the Wise Men, and end up discovering all Eastern religions and incorporating them into Christianity upon return to the Middle East. Nor could I get past the fact that Jesus Christ is an unrepentant swearer. It just seemed wrong to me. The first third of the book was great. The rest was ok.)

May:

The Summons by John Grisham, 304 pages (**, I think I was expecting too much. When Ray Atlee is summoned home by his dying father, a hardened judge, only to find him dead upon arrival, Ray’s life is turned upside down. But not in any real emotional way though he’s dealing with the death of his distant father and the appearances/disappearances of his addict brother. The ending was disappointing. It was my second Grisham book of the year, and I’m really not inclined to give him a third chance based on this one.)

The Birth House by Ami McKay, 416 pages (*** ¼, The story of a young woman, the first girl born in her family for generations, who is pulled into a life of midwifery is strangely compelling. I was sixty pages in before I realized it, and I didn’t really want to put the book down. The story leads you through the life of Dora Rare, from her first encounter with childbirth at the side of the local “witch” Miss B, through her struggle against the all-knowing doctor from the larger town at the bottom of the mountain. Dora encounters not only prejudice from the doctor but from people she’s known all her life who think she’s too independent and too much influenced by Miss B. But when there’s need for her, the women of the community seek her out, and you experience medicine in the early 20th century through Dora’s eyes.)

Ivy Briefs by Martha Kimes, 288 pages (** ½, The amusing neuroses of the author as she battles first the amazement that she got into Columbia Law School followed by her near-insanity as she struggles through her classes gets lost with all of the legal mumbo-jumbo. Granted it gives you a realistic picture of what anyone in law school, forget the ivy league, #4 in the country law school, is up against, but sometimes you feel as bored as she is, slogging through terms that have no meaning, and you don’t get a set of ancillary materials like she does. Still, it is rather entertaining to watch Martha struggle through Year 1, enjoy the slight sense of knowing what she’s doing in Year 2, along with her summer internship at the Lavish Law Firm that wines and dines her spectacularly, and see her senioritis of Year 3. I wish a little more emphasis would have been put on the people she encounters in school. The diverse population was what made Legally Blonde really pop. It would have added a whole new layer here.)

Stay tuned for more tomorrow...

December 28, 2009 - Wii!

2009-12-28T15:36:00.001-05:00

After almost five months being unplugged I finally took the time to get the Wii (William as I call him) up and running again.

The big impetus came from the fact that my aunt, who is incredibly awesome by the way, got me the Biggest Loser Wii game for Christmas. I had kind of assumed it might be in the works when my cousin not-so-slyly asked me last week what I wanted for Christmas. Since George Clooney seemed out of reach, I told her about the BL game. But keep in mind people that we're supposed to keep Christmas in our hearts all year long, so, uh...if you snag George Clooney and want to pass him along...

This game will be interesting I think. I signed up today on the game for a 12-week program. The game creates a fitness program for you and each day when you log in it provides you with a set of exercises to do. The whole goal can be customized as well, whether you just want to stay fit, whether you want to lose a little weight or a lot. And the hardest part...you can pick your trainer! I sat for almost five minutes trying to figure out whether I wanted Bob's uplifting friendly guidance or Jillian's gut-check, she kind of scares me intimidation into action. I ultimately chose Bob because 1) gay men have never steered me wrong before (except in love and that's a whole different blog), and 2) I just didn't think I could handle being yelled at. It's too easy to just turn off the Wii when Jillian pushes you to a place that makes you want to puke. However, I can go back and select the Bataan Death March if I so choose.

Today's routine was yoga, which I am not a fan of. I just can't get into anything that has a pose called Downward Dog. But, I did the routine (mostly...I was a not perfect). I'm ready for some more active things though.

I will say this. While you can operate the BL game without the Wii Fit board, it would definitely be an asset. Without the board (at least I'm assuming this is the case since I can't test it), you have to hold the Wii remote at all times, and it's annoying to switch it from hand to hand, not to mention securing the wrist strap each time.

I'm excited though. What with this and the work I'll be putting in at the gym to get myself 5K ready, I think I have a good shot of reaching my target of 257 (per my input and BL program modifications) in the next 12 weeks.

Random thoughts:

1. While I love having off the two weeks around Christmas, there is nothing on TV to make that time even remotely entertaining.

2. My grandma sent me $20 for Christmas, and I can't decide if I should use it for the Wii nunchuck or groceries.

3. Four months from today is the 5K! Eeek!

December 15 - Unfortunate timing, really...

2009-12-15T20:28:00.000-05:00

I realize now the poor timing of my decision to start on my weight-loss quest. Hello, it's Christmas!

Last night I was all committed, and then today I went to work and the president of the system provided a full-course Christmas dinner! Then, I went to Wal-Mart to run some errands, and prominently displayed by the door (and again, further in) were those damn Lofthouse cookies, aka "devil cookies." They're one of my weaknesses! The super soft sugar cookie topped with a good 1/4" of frosting and then sprinkles! It's impossible to eat just one. Temptation abounds everywhere!!

But I didn't get the devil cookies, and I took the smallest piece of pie on the table for lunch. Ok, yes. I could have passed up the pie entirely, but as I said yesterday, I'm not going to be perfect. And here's my plan. If I can get into the gym routine again and have that down by New Year's, then I can start 2010 with a fridge stocked only with stuff I'm supposed to have and commit to that with a vengeance.

Random thoughts:

1. I don't really pay attention to the people around me at the gym unless they're stick-thin, petite blondes, and then I think, "Why are you here???" I want to scream, "You don't need it! Go out and live your life!" I would be if I were them.

2. I'm not sure what to think of "The Singing Bee" yet. The first two performances were underwhelming, bordering on just bad. The third is showing potential. I'm giving it a chance solely because of Nick Lachey. Yet another thing probably to be embarassed about. Oh well.

3. For the second night in the row, I'm so tempted to be in bed by 10 pm. I've become an old woman.

December 14, 2009 - Ever wanted to know how much I really weigh?

2009-12-14T19:45:00.000-05:00

If I'm just a faceless blog to you, this won't mean much, but I'm sure there are a few people out there who've wondered over the years just how much I really weigh.

296 pounds.

Bam, there it is. Might as well get it out of the way so you don't have to scroll down past the rest of this blog just to see the number. :-)

As much as that number might shock you, and as much as you may not believe me when I say this, it really always has been "just a number" to me. The same is true for the higher numbers I've seen on the scale in my lifetime. While my weight has always defined my life in some ways, I've never really felt defined by it. Even if I have to do things a little slower and I'm more winded at the end, I've always been able to do what I wanted. So it's not a problem. At least that's what I've told myself for 15+ years, with occasional moments of lucidity that something needs to change. And it might change for a while, but I've always fallen back into my patterns of eating too much of things that are not good for me and not getting my butt off the couch.

That stops today.

Now, there's probably an argument to be made that by putting my weight out there, I'm humiliating myself into action. Oh God! They know!! Have to do something about it now! Let's be honest, if you've met me it's not like it's a huge surprise that I'm overweight, obese even by clinical standards. I'll admit that my height hides it better than if I were short, but it's not like I've ever fooled anyone. I'm fat. That's obvious. So simply putting a number to the public image isn't going to be enough to "shame" me into action. I have much more embarassing things in my life: owning the official replica of the Heart of the Ocean from "Titanic," 279 Clay Aiken songs in my iPod, sending an "anonymous" love email to a crush and getting pegged because of the proper use of grammar and punctuation. There's a lot to judge me on. If you want to judge me on my weight over any of those things, fine by me.

So here's the deal. If shame or embarassment isn't going to be enough of a catalyst, then what is. In the more immediate, I'm focusing on two things which I hope will propel me to my goal weight in time. The first is superficial. I'm the maid of honor in my best-friend-since-kindergarten's wedding, and I want to look good (better at least) for it. Second, and this is the first step in a larger goal to eventually run a marathon, I'm signing up for a 5k in March. Running and I have gone together like oil and water to this point, but for some reason I've always wanted to run a marathon. I'm willing, however, to start small. By actually registering, I have a concrete goal to work toward. And I need a deadline. The first deadline of many, no doubt, but a deadline.

Though I don't intend to post every day, I fully intend to blog about my progress, the good days and the bad. Already I anticipate a post lamenting the loss of chimichangas and egg rolls. :-( I can tell you right now that I will not be perfect on this journey, but I hope to see progress each week. I went to the gym today for the first day in a month; I'm counting it.

So...mock me, wish me luck...either way, here we go!!

Random thoughts:

1. The gym smelled like cotton candy tonight. Luckily I hate the smell of cotton candy, but I swear, if I start smelling peanut butter cups when I'm there, this could be brutal.

2. Since I've started my new job, I feel slightly like Melanie Griffith in "Working Girl," only in reverse.

3. A couple of weeks ago my car battery died (yes, I left the lights on...again). It wound down so far that it re-set the stereo system in the car so that when I turned it on the bass was turned up more than I normally keep it. It hasn't really mattered much in the meantime, so I haven't readjusted it. Today, however, when I was trying to pump myself up for the gym, I put on my gym playlist, and started with a little Flo Rida. I've had this car, and the stereo system, for six years and never felt like such a bad ass! It was awesome!

July 07, 2009 - There are people dying...

2009-07-07T13:45:00.005-04:00

It's the event of the year, right? I wasn't planning on watching the Michael Jackson memorial, but when it's estimated that 700 million to 1 billion people are going to be turning in, I didn't want to be the one who didn't see what happened. Maybe I shouldn't have watched, because I couldn't help mocking various parts of the service. So if you're not up for that, don't read on.

Random thoughts:

1. What was with the gigantic lull at the beginning after Smokey reading letters from Diana Ross and Nelson Mandela? I get there was short planning time (sort of...anything more than a day isn't really all that short), but a little better stage direction would have been good. As an aside, Diana couldn't be there? Really? Michael named her as a guardian for his kids, and she couldn't make the funeral???

2. The city of Los Angeles has apparently set up a paypal account so that MJ fans can help defray the cost of this $4 million memorial. If MJ fans are even half as crazy as Clay Aiken fans (and we know there are certainly more of them), they should bust a profit. But, if as a city you're that strapped for cash, should you really be putting on something like this? I get wanting to pay tribute, but those tributes have been going on for a week. Let that be enough.

3. I've decided to make a drinking game (water) out of this thing. Everytime someone mentions a song title (or something really, really close) in a speech, I'm taking a shot.

4. Audience members are yelling out that they love Michael. It's a funeral people. It's not like he's gonna sit up, blow ya a kiss and say, "I love you, too."

5. The pallbearers are wearing dark suits, bright yellow ties, and sunglasses. With one sparkly glove each. Homage or cheesy? You decide.

6. Apparently one of my high school classmates is singing backup at the memorial service.

7. I'm generally not gracious in this respect, but I'll cut the singers some slack for pitch problems today or emotional struggling. Except Mariah Carey. I just don't like her. I do like her husband as host of America's Got Talent though.

8. Magic Johnson, you're funny! And Kentucky Fried Chicken is actually called KFC now.

9. Ooooh, Jennifer Hudson singing the Free Willy song! Bonus points! Wait...is she pregnant and I had no clue? Ok, the dancing around her in a circle was cheesy. Way to ruin a really good moment, whomever decided that.

10. Oh, Al Sharpton. Yes, yes...Michael Jackson is responsible for Obama being elected President. Cause breaking the MTV barrier is pretty much the same thing as getting elected to the White House.

11. Again, because apparently we need a reminder, no screaming (or chanting, or rhythmic clapping) at funerals.

12. John Mayer's facial expressions and eye-twitching always kind of make me think he's OD'ing. Though this is the first time I've ever thought he looked kind of cute. I think it's the vest and the tie.

13. Best eulogy so far: Brooke Shields.

14. Best musical performance: Jermaine Jackson singing Michael's favorite song "Smile." Very emotional. Yes, I shed a tear.

15. Oh Sheila Jackson Lee...did you know about my little drinking game??? That was a pretty impressive string of titles.

16. Is Usher whimpering??

17. Best runner-up eulogy: Smokie Robinson.

18. Who brought a baby to the memorial service?

19. Ok, the cynic in me is mute: This We Are the World tribute has me all teary. Aww, the people in London are making a big circle of hands. And the kids on stage...sad. Oh man, now they're bringing up all sorts of little kids. I'm a goner. I think all funerals should have an uplifting moment at the end. This definitely accomplished that.

20. Oh man! His daughter speaking just killed me. It's hard not to be moved by a little girl who's lost her daddy.

Parts of this were just cheesy, and a reason that everyone should put a little forethought into their funeral, but other parts were very moving.

February 25, 2009 - Hypothermia or me?

2009-02-25T21:13:00.002-05:00

It's a sad state of affairs when your dream dating life is as bad, possibly even worse, than your dating life in reality. I'm not a terribly prolific dater, never have been, but on Monday night I had a dream where I had two dates. Got dumped in both of them. It's no wonder I don't date in real life...

The first dream started with me in the grocery/department store that was about a mile from my house growing up. I was frustrated when the dream started because the sales lady in the perfume department wouldn't wait on me, and I really wanted that bottle of Ralph Lauren Romance (oh the irony!). And when she wouldn't pay attention to me, I had to go to the back of the line which was populated solely by couples. I finally got so annoyed that I left, and as I left, all of the couples turned (almost in synchronisity) to watch me leave.

When I got outside, there was a guy there in a greyish fitted long sleeve t-shirt leaning up against the brick wall. The moment I saw him I realized that we were on a date, and that somehow, somewhere inside the store I'd wandered away from him, and we got separated. It was freezing outside, and I asked if he'd been waiting a while. He had. And he didn't look happy about it. We climbed up in his truck, which had very foggy windows, and he asked if he could just take Webster Street instead of Briggs to take me home, and I said yes, though thinking about it now, Webster was where Saunders is in reality. And that confuses me. Why would I move streets around? It doesn't really matter though because I moved on to the second dream from there, but I know that when the unknown guy dropped me off at home, he wasn't ever going to pick me up again.

Dream #2. In this dream I am quite certain that I was on a first date with someone I met online. And it was awkward. Awkward. When I entered into the dream I knew that nothing was going right. We didn't have anything to talk about, we weren't having fun, it was disaster. I knew there were other people in the house, but no one made an appearance until all of a sudden, my friend from high school, Laura, came skating (roller skating specifically) into the house in a french maid's uniform carrying a humongous tray of dirty dishes. Yet in the center of the tray was a pristine hot fudge sundae in one of those old-school, tall sundae bowls.

When Laura disappeared I just sank to the floor in defeat. And the floor, when I sank down to it, was slanted. Forty-five degrees slanted. I had to almost brace myself to sit on it.

The next thing I remember, the guy there with me was sitting down as well, and the floor had righted itself. Or maybe, like a teeter-totter, he'd just balanced it out. Either way we sat there for several minutes, just watching TV, not talking. As time wore on, we scooted back to lean against the back of the couch that was behind us, but clearly not facing the TV. More time passed, and as it did, we got closer and closer to each other. First it was shoulder to shoulder. Then I was kind of leaning against him. Finally he had his arm around me. And somewhere in the process, he lost his shirt and just had a wifebeater on.

After that things seemed to start being cozy. We were talking. We might even have been close to kissing. That's tough to call for some reason, which probably means we weren't, but it felt like we were heading somewhere. Then, he said he should be leaving. Out of nowhere, "Time to go!" I walked him to the door, and when I opened it, we were greeted with a raging snowstorm outside. Snow was covering everything, and I knew he didn't have a car because I'd picked him up from somewhere when he arrived. I asked where he was going to stay because I knew he couldn't get home yet that night, and he said "I'll find someplace." I offered to let him stay because it was awful out, and you know, I was starting to care about him, but he just shook his head and headed off into the snow in his wifebeater and light jacket. Hypothermia or me? And the hypothermia won. Fantastic.

Random thoughts:

1. Today I saw a crossdresser at the State Capitol. And that's a sentence you don't get to say everyday.

2. The Christmas cards I received this year are still hanging on the back of my front door. I just can't stand to throw them away.

3. For the first time EVER, the guy that I liked from the beginning won Top Chef! Awesome! Too bad he became a little bit of a man-whore along the way.

February 08, 2009 - I certainly didn't expect a Saturday service

2009-02-08T14:40:00.002-05:00

My job is interesting. No day is ever the same, and sometimes you get to do really cool, fun things. Saturday, I got to go to a baby pageant!

I know what you're thinking, and I was thinking it, too. Toddlers and tiaras. But as it turns out, this baby pageant had nothing to do with over made up babies with fake teeth and big smiles. The pageant consisted of four little girls, the oldest one no more than two, and only one wearing an actual dress. And while the babies did get tiny trophies and savings bonds, the winner was chosen by how much money they'd raised for the church that was holding the pageant.

In the end, the baby pageant wasn't the most interesting part of the experience. It was actually a very small part of the program, which was dominated by scripture and song and prayer, and little speeches from myself about the MOD and another girl about the non-profit she works for. I'd had no clue what I was getting into going to the baby pageant in the first place, but I certainly didn't expect a Saturday service.

I have to add one more piece to the story. The baby pageant was held at an African-American church, and while I wasn't uncomfortable because I was the only white person in the church, I was slightly uncomfortable because of the service and its boisterous nature.

I'm Lutheran. When we sing, we use hymnals, not expecting everyone to know the words. When the children's choir performs, we don't clap (apparently Lutheran children don't need audible praise). And when the pastor sermonizes, we don't yell out "Amen!!" It was like being plunked down in the middle of Mars and trying to pretend that I wasn't a complete foreigner. The thing was, the longer I was there, the more comfortable I felt. More comfortable, in fact, than I feel in the church I've been a member of since I moved to Louisville. And I attribute that completely to the people that I was surrounded by.

I have never met such welcoming, gracious people! Every single person said hello to me, and there are people in my church that I've never even gotten a look from. During the prayer, we all held hands. The female pastor (another thing we Lutherans don't have) asked at one point for us to all give someone around us a hug. People came from the other side of the church to embrace me. My own father won't even pick up the phone to call me. (I don't call him either, but that's neither here nor there.) Even the oldest baby just walked right up to me when I was at the front of the church being thanked for coming and lifted her arms like she wanted to be held. I picked her up and held her, and then when I went to put her down to go back into the pew, she followed me and crawled up onto my lap. It was just such a cool feeling to know that not only was I being welcomed because they were being polite but because they were genuinely happy to know me and to have me there with them.

Random thoughts:

1. Those Hilshire Farm "Go Meat!" commercials are annoying. And I don't understand the concept of the airplane one. What appear to be complete strangers on a private jet? Eating lunch meat? Then conga lining it out of the plane? I hope no one got paid too much for that idea.

2. The idea of buying a house is freaking me out.

3. What do you do with a TV when it stops working? Do you just throw it away?

January 27, 2009 - Dear Andy Roddick...Australian Open Edition

2009-01-27T11:29:00.004-05:00

Dear Andy Roddick,

Could this be a turning point in our relationship? Can you actually win when I'm watching you?? Ok, so "watch" may be a relative term since I was half-sleeping. Stupid 16 hour time difference! And "win" might be relative as well because although you were doing pretty good, the match ended because Dojokovic retired. But hey! This is progress!

I told a friend last night before the match started that you were playing, and her response was "don't watch." But I couldn't help it, and at the end of the first set, I figured I was going to have to apologize yet again for bringin' the curse. Then you pulled out the second set. Go you! That's when I got sleepy. I tried to stay awake by flipping around during breaks, but I kind of dozed. I woke up somewhere in the middle of the third set and tried the flipping around thing again. When the tie-breaker started, I was struggling, but I was trying to stick with you, just to prove that I am NOT your curse. Then guess what...I flipped away for a jolt of awakeness, and when I came back, you were walking off the court. This is reminiscent of the 2007 US Open. I look away, you win.

If that's what it takes...I'll keep the remote handy.

Random thoughts:

1. Two snow days in a row! It's like hitting the Powerball! Whoo!

2. Rice pudding is the greatest!

3. Happy birthday to Susan O'Brien and Amber Chacko!

January 19, 2009 - If I were President...I'd bring back the cheese.

2009-01-19T19:49:00.003-05:00

As the nation prepares for Barack Obama's inauguration in the morning, I'm sitting here watching Hour 1 of the History Channel series "The Presidents." I've often wondered why they only show one episode at a time, never the complete thing, and sometimes skip around. I'd like to get my presidents in order and all together sometime, but that's neither here nor there. While watching, I decided to play a little game of "If I were President..."

I wanted to be President while I was growing up. I decided in 5th grade that if elected I would end the Iraq war that was going on at the time (and one could argue has never completely stopped), and so I put that at the top of my to-do list, above such things as marriage, children, or even really 5th grade graduation. But, as the years have gone, despite such nicknames as Madame President, and having a wide collection of anything red, white, and blue, I don't really want to be President anymore. If someone hands the job to me (making me wonder how far down in the line of succession I'd be), I'll take it, but I won't actively pursue it. Something in me suspects that I really only wanted to have the job to stop the war and, probably more importantly, have a motorcade, so I doubt I'm the right person for the job. The world breathes a sigh of relief at my revelation no doubt.

But back to the game of "If I were President...." I'll leave the political ponderings to the people who actually get paid for that. Economic crises, Guantanamo Bay, a college football playoff system - hey, Obama brought it up on Monday Night Football, it's a legit issue - I don't really care for tonight. No, tonight, I'm focusing on the little things. The "cosmetic" things, so to speak.

If I were President...

I've always wondered why that big light under the overhang on the front of the White House (the flat side, not the side with the rounded Truman balcony) hangs so low. I think the wires supporting it absolutely ruin pictures. First, it's not like you can just change the lightbulb by standing on a chair, so they might as well raise it up and just use a taller ladder. Second, the thing's big enough that it'll give off sufficient light for an arrival. If I were President, I'd raise the light a few ticks.

If I were President...

In the Bush White House there is a beigy-colored carpet in the Oval Office. That would have to go. I'd need something darker. A royal blue is always nice. Perhaps a dark green. I'd even take a red-colored carpet. Having grown up with red carpet, you get used to it. But absolutely no beige because beige shows dirt, and I wouldn't be able to concentrate if while reviewing the economic stimulus package I looked down at there were footprints or stains on the carpet. Call me a little OCD, but so be it. I'd just feel like I'd desecrated public property. If I were President, I'd have dark carpet in the O.

If I were President...

"Andrew Jackson in the grand foyer of the White House had a two-ton block of cheese." And, in my opinion, current Presidents are less for having discontinued the fine tradition of allowing anyone and everyone into the White House to discuss their concerns. You can't be a nation of the people, by the people, and for the people if you don't invite the people in for some cheese. Maybe that's the Chatham girl in me where no event was a real event if there wasn't a mound of cheese, but what better way to directly petition your government than to do it in the foyer of the White House while standing around a hunk of cheddar. Say what you will about security, but if I were the President, I'd bring back the cheese. And as Josh would add on "The West Wing", a triscuit the size of Lake Tahoe.

Random thoughts:

1. How sad is it that after two years of campaigning, a massive election night, nearly 60 days of transition and ad nauseum coverage of the impending inauguration that I still had to look up how to spell Obama's first name? And I don't consider myself an uneduated person. One thing I'll say for Bush...I've never had a problem spelling "George."

2. Someday I will figure out how to make my soup delivery dream a reality. It's cold out. I want soup and don't have any. Surely, in this day and age, it cannot be too much to ask for someone to create a way to bring me some.

3. Here we go, Steelers! Here we go! Pittsburgh's goin' to the Super Bowl!

January 18, 2009 - A real turn toward the disturbing

2009-01-18T12:57:00.004-05:00

Again, not a cool dream. I want one of those again. Lately though it's just the disconcerting kind.

I've been completely exhausted lately which means getting up, feeding the cats, turning on the TV, and then falling asleep again on my couch. Normally I don't dream out of bed. I can sleep anywhere, but if I'm out of bed I won't dream. Not so much this morning.

I'm not exactly sure what was going on, but I know I was staying in the home of a high school classmate, and it wasn't a home that I'd have ever wanted to stay in while in high school or even now, but I know better than to expect my subconcious to do what I want. It's quite possible that while staying at this house I was having an affair with her brother, who doesn't really exist, and who, now that I think back on it resembled a mixture of another classmate's brother and Jason Hervey, who played the older brother on The Wonder Years, a show I didn't watch. Whatever.

The next thing I remember is standing at the window and what was a wet street before was now a flood that has smaller buildings around the condo/highrise that we're in. A bus was somehow managing to drive through it, but other than that, there was no sign of life outside.

It was at that point, talking to my sister (a sister I don't have and didn't know I had in the dream) that I realized I was still wearing the dental thing attached to one of my upper molars. The best way to describe this contraption is to liken it to the longish security tags that they put on jeans in stores. It snaps on from both sides, and you can twirl the back piece around. I had apparently been doing that in my mouth for hours. I was a little worried about taking it off, afraid that I would either damage or remove my tooth, but I figured it out and popped the thing into my palm. It was bright pink, and when I turned it over, it said "Facebook" on it. Ok then.

This is where the dream took a real turn toward the disturbing. Again, standing at the window, I was watching the activity outside. The flood waters had receded for the most part, but where it wasn't high, the water was now raging. A mother and a little girl stood on a street corner, and I knew that if the little girl took one step into the street, she'd be washed away. But the mother didn't appear concerned. Nor did a friend of mine, Matt, who was fully prepared to send his pregnant wife, Amy, out into the water to go make a sale of some kind. I looked at her, shocked, and said, "You can't go out there!" But she just stood up, adjusted her shirt over her belly and smiled that if Matt said it was ok, it was ok.

When she left the woman next to me and I started talking about how dangerous it was for Amy to leave, and the woman pulled out a wallet with some pictures. She pointed to a middle-aged black woman singing in a choir, and said that she understood sadness because she'd lost two of her children, one of whom was killed under the babysitter's watch.

Cue me suddenly being the babysitter and in charge of the most adorable little dark-haired white boy in 1940's clothing. We were being marched into a roadway that on one side had buildings and a grassy patch near the road, and on the other side, there was an open field, lined with a barbed wire fence that had barbs big enough for people to be impaled upon. And down the road that was happening. People were being lined up and then secured on the barbed wire before right behind them a bomb would explode, killing them.

I was worried that was going to happen to us, but they stopped several feet away and told us instead to line up along the grassy area, making us lie down. I knew exactly what was coming, and when I laid down, I put the little boy as much under me as I could, hoping that somehow they'd not see him and he'd get to live. One by one I had the firing of the pistol as the head guard, who was very much enjoying his job, shot the people next to me. I tried to count in my head from memory the number of people who'd been lined up on that side to know how much longer I had, just wanting to be prepared. My dream persona is a lot calmer than I would be in such a situation.

When the guard finally got to me, I remember looking down to make sure the little boy was still here, and I noticed for the first time that instead of being dressed like everyone else, I was wearing my pink March of Dimes "I'm Saving Babies" shirt, but it was inside out, so that I could only see the back of the design. Even while in the dream I remember thinking, "That has to be more than coincidence," and somehow that made me think that everything would be ok. I was going to save the little boy, if I there was no way that I would be saved myself.

The next thing I felt was the muzzle of the pistol up against the back of my head. I can only assume it was because the gun had been fired multiple times already, but it was hot against my head, almost burning. I kept waiting for the firing, wondering if it would hurt. My body had flinched involuntarily when I'd heard the other shots, but now I laid perfectly still, just waiting. The gun was readjusted a few times. Once it was just below my skull, but then it came back to the original place, still burning. I don't know why the guard was waiting, maybe it was just some kind of sadistic torture, but just as I let myself surrender to the moment, breathing out and letting my body go completely limp in preparation, I woke up. But even after I woke up I could feel the exact spot on my head where the pistol had rested.

Random thoughts:

1. On to happier things...

Happy birthday today to Laura Deininger!
Happy birthday tomorrow to Becky Carpenter, and my grandma, Sylvia McKown

2. I really need to try to get rid of some of my books. They are all over the place, and most of them I won't read more than once so they just take up space.

3. I think the Kentucky basketball team is starting to believe that they can go in to any game, any place, and come out with a win. I like that!

January 15, 2009 - One direction or the other

2009-01-15T19:53:00.004-05:00

"I'm a delightful, gentle beauty with a lovely smile. I seek all that's good, and I'm well-balanced."

I once had a bear that came with a pair of pajamas that said that when you pressed its tummy. It was supposedly the mantra of a Libra, and both the bear and I, in the pajamas, wore a balanced scale to claim that Libra-ness. That little statement might be true: I like to think I'm a delightful, gentle beauty though some days I have my doubts. But, the part about being well-balanced that damn bear forgot to mention is that while I can make quick, fantastic, good, stick-like-glue decisions on certain things, I can worry other things to death, scared to tip the scale in one direction or the other. Usually it's little things. Today it's something bigger.

Here's the deal. I LOVE my job. LOVE it! Most days I would do this job for free, that's how much I love it. I'd have to be completely supported by a rockingly wealthy husband so that I could do that, but I would. So being faced with the possibility that at the end of the year I might not have my job is scary.

I knew coming into this job that at the end of 2009 it would change. But when you accept a job in the middle of 2007, the end of 2009 is eons away. Not so much anymore. And I didn't know then that we'd be in the middle of a crap economy when I needed to start thinking about things. In fact, that crappy economy has impacted the job in a lot of ways and has absolutely influenced my need to think about it already, as opposed to a little later in the year. So it's not a complete surprise that I need to make some plans. The surprise lies in that the solution might be back where I started: Nebraska.

The job that I want (my boss's job), the job that I have been gearing up to take if my boss leaves for a new position with a project we've been working on since I arrived, is open. But it's open in Omaha. It's possible that the same position will be open in Kentucky at the end of the year, when my position either reverts to part-time, or is eliminated entirely because of the economy, but that's a guessing game. And in the meantime, that same position is open in a place where I have friends, family (plusses and minuses both), and that I sometimes (though not necessarily when it's in negative digits) miss. So the question becomes: Do I, in what seems a crazy turn of events, actually look back and consider a job in Nebraska when, almost three years ago exactly, I started planning my escape?

Someone suggested that I make a pro and con list. And I could do that, but it's really just a balancing of the Libra scales. And it will only lead me to overanalyze to the point where up starts looking like down, and left starts to resemble right. Maybe what I really need to do is just apply and see what happens. Live life now with the same blind faith that I have so far, believing that what's supposed to be will be.

Of course, any advice is welcome.

Random thoughts:

1. Do you remember that sense of excitement you got when your mom or dad picked you up from school when you weren't expecting it? Why aren't there simply joys like that in adulthood?

2. How is it possible that there are enough "Snapped" episodes for Oxygen to fill an entire day with them and not repeat?

3. There can never be enough orange juice for me to drink. It's like the nectar of the gods.

January 12, 2009 - "Poor girl. Has to eat alone."

2009-01-12T20:26:00.003-05:00

I can't ever decide if it's empowering to eat out alone, or pathetic.

Tonight I decided to go out to eat for two reasons. One, I was in the mood for Chinese. Two, I need to go grocery shopping, but we're in a winter weather advisory which means the local Kroger is, right now, simply an element of self-torture. Keep in mind said advisory means we're maybe getting an inch of snow, tops, but milk, eggs, and bread will be in short supply, and lines will be long, so going out to eat was the smarter and/or more sanity-saving option.

It's not that I've never gone out to eat by myself. I have. I've lived alone for years, didn't have a roommate in college, and even when I lived with my mother, we never really saw each other, so eating alone isn't exactly a new thing. But there's a vast difference between heating up some Easy Mac when it's you in the living room and going out to actually occupy a booth or table by yourself. And tonight as I entered PF Chang's, I couldn't help wondering if it isn't just a little sad to go out and eat on your own.

I pondered that question all throughout dinner, which took longer than normal though I'm not sure why. Usually when you're on your own, you honestly can be in and out of a restaurant in half an hour. I have a whole theory that it's because the server wants to turn the table, freeing it up for a larger party and bigger tips, but I can't prove that. Tonight, I was in the restaurant for almost an hour, which, honestly, is an eternity when you're on your own.

When you don't have the distraction of a friend of colleague to eat with, you can focus on the little things going on around you. There's the conversations at the table behind you or the way the guys at the bar are trying a little too hard to establish a connection with the female bartender who easily could be their daughter age-wise. You notice the way that the servers bustle around and pay attention to how quickly your order is taken or your food arrives.

There's a lot to take in, but none of it is interesting. Certainly there's nothing to make the world a better place, or just make the day a little brighter like good conversation does. It's like you're sitting in the center of the world, just watching the world spin around you. You're of no consequence, and you should consider yourself lucky is the waiter/waitress deems you worthy of a refill. Sometimes you don't get that lucky. And even when you do get good service, you wonder how much of it is pity service. "Oh, poor girl. Has to eat alone. Better go give her some more iced tea."

I have friends who won't even consider going into a restaurant and eating alone. Is that because they aren't secure enough in themselves to maintain their own company for an hour? Or are they the smart ones, realizing how pathetic a person looks in his or her own booth, with no one coming? Most of the time I think one way, but tonight I'm not so sure.

Random thoughts:

1. What is with the run on milk, eggs, and bread when a storm hits? Is there some innate instinct to make french toast when the weather gets bad?? And if so, why is there never a run on syrup??

2. Am I the only person in the world who likes to write checks? Sure, automated might be easier, but there's nothing prettier than a fully filled out check.

3. A horse was sold at the Keeneland Track today for $950,000. I want to be in a position, in this economy, to spend $950,000 on a horse! Not that I would buy a horse if I had that kind of money. But maybe a Wii. And a house to play it in.

4. Happy (belated) birthday on the 9th to Nick Clark.

December 31, 2008 - Read Anything Good Lately?

2008-12-31T11:57:00.003-05:00

Each year I keep track of the books I've read because I'm a geek like that, and this year I decided to write short reviews of each one just for fun and so I'd remember when I look back. Hopefully you'll find something good to read, or at least might be steered away from something not worth your time. Enjoy!

Book List 2008

January:

Not Buying It: My Year Without Shopping by Judith Levine (**, Not what I was expecting. Her social commentary regarding elections as well as the actual research she put in to spending on a national and cultural level, didn’t add anything to the book for me. I expected it to be more personal, and while she did journal her feelings on a regular basis about not spending, it seemed rather cold to me.)

Birth: The Surprising History of How We Are Born by Tina Cassidy (****, It might make you reconsider ever trying to go through the act of childbirth, but it’s so fascinating you can’t help wanting to at least give it a go to see what the experience is like for you! Particularly interesting is the section on “twilight sleep” births and some of the stories about men’s roles in childbirth throughout history.)

The Pact by Jodi Picoult (*** ¼, The only reason it doesn’t get 4 is because there’s an interview at the back of my copy where the author talks about how she does a lot of research for her books because she hates when she reads a book and finds a mistake, it makes the author seem sloppy. And I found a mistake. It’s not a big one, and it doesn’t affect the plot at all, but it’s still annoying. And Laura told me she found two grammar/spelling errors when she read it.)

Baby Proof by Emily Giffin (***, The book was good, but the ending left me feeling a little cheated. The author developed a character all throughout the book, and then at the end, she has a major change of heart. Sort of. It left me wondering if it was just taking the easy way out or whether the character had really had the change of heart the author wants to make you believe she did. If she did, I didn’t buy it. Something Blue is better.)

February:

P.S. I Love You by Cecelia Ahern (**, Maybe I’m tainted by the end of the book which didn’t have the ending I expected and seemed almost abrupt about one key thing, but the book in and of itself is decent. And it made me cry repeatedly, but that may be more circumstantial given the death of my grandpa right before I started reading it. I know, why I picked THAT book at the airport on the way back from the funeral is beyond me.)

March:

The Five People You Meet in Heaven by Mitch Albom (**, There’s a lot of hype surrounding Mitch Albom. Maybe not as much with this book as Tuesdays with Morrie, but still pretty big. I can’t say that it lived up to it. It was ok, but not great. I expected the five people to provide more universal lessons as opposed to just lessons for the main character, the recently departed. Though I guess if Mitch Albom had all of the answers he’d be God almighty and just a best-selling author. It’s a fast-read, if nothing else.)

Assassination Vacation by Sarah Vowell (***, This is the kind of book I would write. Informative, funny, and just a touch macabre. I am a McKown, after all. My parents dated in a mortuary and for most of my life I wanted to be President, so it’s no surprise that I would find a book based on trips to presidential assassination sites incredibly interesting. The author covers the first three presidential assassinations providing great historical detail while always keeping the topic interesting and even humorous. When you can laugh out loud reading a book about assassination, you know you’ve found a gem. The only reason it doesn’t get four stars is because I think she’s a little skimpy when it come to Garfield and McKinley. Granted they’re no Lincoln, but still…they deserve a little more attention.)

April:
Nothing

May:
Nothing

June:

Son of a Witch by Gregory Maguire (**, If you've read "Wicked" it might be worth it, but I'd suggest reading "Wicked" again before reading this one. It really relies on your recall of the first book a lot. But...I don't think it's nearly as good as "Wicked" and the end just left me "eh." And there's a lot of stuff in the middle that left me scratching my head. I was never really sure what to make of the main character, Liir, and in the last 60 pages, Maguire throws in a character trait that while it doesn't necessarily bother me, had me going "What?? Was I supposed to see that coming??" I find it hard to recommend books because people's tastes are so different, but I will say this is one book that I wish I'd borrowed from the library instead of buying. I don't feel the need to read it again.)

July:

To Be Someone by Louise Voss (***, The basic premise is that a former rock star, turned hit DJ indulges in a little cocaine, takes a nasty fall, and then must deal with the mess that her life has become. She decides to do that by inventorying some of the songs that hold a particularly important place in her life, the songs that were present in moments – both good and bad – that shaped where she is now. It’s a pretty interesting notion because we all have certain songs that we can remember exactly where we were and what we were doing when we heard them. We hold them in a special place in our hearts and call them to mind as necessary. I didn’t really know any of her songs (if they are indeed real), but she does a great job of putting them in context, and after reading the book, I now want to do this with my own life. Just without the dramatic purpose the main character, Helena, has.)

My Stroke of Insight by Jill Bolte Taylor, Ph.D. (**, I purchased this book on a whim after reading the title because of what was going on in my life at the moment. The book chronicles the stroke experience of a neuroanatomist. Trained to understand the brain in great detail, when she suffers a major hemorrhagic stroke at the age of 37, Taylor gains a whole new perspective on the way her brain works and the way she can control her brain both during rehabilitation and afterwards. The actual description of her stroke and rehabilitation was great. You really get into the moment. Her explanation of brain function is a little technical, but it’s a brain, so you expect some complexity. The part that I didn’t really enjoy was her somewhat redundant emphasis on how if we all just tap into the right side of our brain, we’ll all realize we’re just one big sea of humanity. And while I’m a big fan of flowery language – Nathaniel Hawthorne is my favorite author – she overdoes it. I suggest sticking to the middle of the book for the best read.)

August:

Man o’War: A Legend Like Lightning by Dorothy Ours (***, You might have to be a horse-racing fan, or live in Kentucky, to truly appreciate this book but it really was quite good. It’s pretty technical in a few places, talking about track distances and speeds and horse anatomy, but the author does a good job in bringing it down to the layman’s level. And it’s filled with interesting facts like how trainers used to shoot horses up with cocaine before races. Plus, I now know why Lexington, KY has had the main road “Man o’War” for years, and only recently added “Sir Barton Way” when Sir Barton was the original Triple Crown winner.)

The Family Fortune by Laurie Horowitz (**, For a novel centered around a woman who runs a literary magazine focused on showcasing the best writers, I expected better writing. I realize it’s unfair to compare the real author with one of her characters, but I couldn’t help feeling that Horowitz wouldn’t measure up to Jane’s standards. The story was reined in, with no meandering plot lines, but perhaps it was reined in too much. And the main character, Jane, started getting on my nerves by the end, recognizing that she’s dull and doesn’t fit into the world around her, but not sure that she wants to do anything about that. Still, I read 2/3 of the book in one sitting, so it gets an additional star for that.)

September:

Full of Grace by Dorothea Benton Frank (** ¾, The book started off really well for me. I like the conflict of Grace, a single woman from a staunch Catholic Italian family, living in sin with her stem cell researching agnostic Irish boyfriend. Her parents are primarily a hoot, though they get a little over the top at times, and the struggle is interesting. Then, about 2/3 of the way through, all of a sudden the book takes a surprisingly religious turn. It’s not preachy, but all of a sudden what was a story about family becomes a story of faith and miraculous conversion. It’s not a bad twist per se. I just wasn’t expecting it. On the plus side, the writing is really good. I found a lot of myself in Frank’s turn of phrases.)

Twilight by Stephenie Meyer (****, I honestly didn’t know that this book had been written in 2006. Nor did I know that there were three more in the series until the fourth and final book came out a few months ago. And even then I thought, “Vampires? Really? It’s like a second rate Harry Potter.” It’s not. I don’t have enough good words for this book. I bought it on a whim – a few people I know had read the books and liked them well enough, and it was on sale – and literally got sucked in!! I started reading on a Monday afternoon and was done Tuesday morning. The writing is incredible, and if you don’t fall in love with one of the main characters, Edward, check to make sure your own heart hasn’t stopped beating!)

New Moon by Stephenie Meyer (***, The second in the Twilight saga, this is the only book that felt a little bit like filler. It’s a book that sets things up for the third and fourth installments. But it’s still good. I tore through this one in two days.)

Eclipse by Stephenie Meyer (****, As with the second book in the Twilight saga, this book is more of things that are leading up to the climax in book four. Unlike the second book, this one does a much better job of really bringing in the important points that you need to know. You might not understand them as such, but when you encounter their significance again both later in this book and in the final installment, you recognize that incredible skill that it took Meyer to weave everything in. She’s an incredible author! Her attention to detail is magnificent!)

Breaking Dawn by Stephenie Meyer (*** ½ , I didn’t realize it because I was so out of touch with whole Twilight frenzy, but there were two major camps of fans: Team Edward and Team Jacob. Basically people who wanted the main character to end up either with the vampire or the werewolf respectively. I was solidly in the Team Edward category, but this book gave me a real love of Jacob. Again, it was a page turner, though sometimes it felt like there was too much going on. In the end it was all important, but this book seemed longer than the other books, figuratively as much as literally. And while I won’t say I was disappointed in the end, the climax was less climactic than I anticipated. The beginning and the middle of the book more than made up for that!)

October:
Nothing

November:

The Heretic’s Daughter by Kathleen Kent (***, This book was listed on a recommendation list of new books, so I went in search. The author is an ancestor of one of the women hanged during the Salem Witch trials, and the book novelizes the story of Martha Carrier, and specifically, Martha’s daughter, Sarah, who was also imprisoned for several months on charges of witchcraft. Three quarters of the book provides lead up to the imprisonment of Martha, and I found that part a little slow. It was buildup that was slightly repetitive, if for no other reason than there are only so many ways to say “We were outcasts from the beginning.” But the prison account is spell-binding, which earns the book an extra half star.)

December:

Dinner With a Perfect Stranger by David Gregory (***, A very easy read, I sat down and finished this in one sitting. I’m not even sure it’s a hundred pages, but the length almost lends itself to the book. The premise is that an ordinary man is invited, anonymously, to have dinner with Jesus Christ. At first the man, Nick, is skeptical, but as the conversation goes along, he begins to entertain the notion more and more that he is indeed sitting across the table from the Son of God, albeit in a tailored suit with a tight haircut. I’ve read in some reviews that the end-result of the book was a little preachy, but I didn’t feel that way. When dinner was concluded, I felt instead that a great conversation had taken place. Nick, wondering about God, religion, and faith in general, and Jesus, answering with clarity and patience. I’m sure it’s a book that can be taken a thousand different ways depending on the mileage of the reader, but I liked it.)

The Glass Castle: A Memoir by Jeannette Walls (*** ½, Absolutely terrific!! Walls does an amazing job of chronicling what is a childhood of abject poverty, borderline neglect, and raging alcoholism in a way that isn’t pity-filled. She recognizes the major mistakes her parents made in raising her, but her descriptions of their lives are almost magical in their retelling.)

The Surrogate by Judith Henry Wall (** ½, I’m not sure this book deserves that high of a rating, but it doesn’t deserve any less either. A young woman deep in debt agrees to be a surrogate mother for a very rich, very private couple. However, to go along with the contract she is essentially held hostage and begins to fear for her life. While not necessarily unrealistic, the story seems to get a little far-fetched toward the end, and except for a dog and the baby, I didn’t have any real emotional ties to the characters when I was done. But it wasn’t a bad book. Hard to explain.)

My Sister’s Keeper by Jodi Picoult (***, The story of a young girl created to be a donor for her sister who is sick with cancer was very well written. The two books that I’ve read of Picoult both contain different viewpoints giving the reader an omniscient presence within the storyline, but I think it was much more effectively used in this story than in The Pact. And the interwoven tangential storyline of fire really added a layer to the book, I think. I will say that the end threw me for a total loop; I didn’t expect the ending at all! The only reason it doesn’t get four stars, like the one from January by Picoult, is because there were two editing errors in the last two pages (an omission of a space and then an unnecessary italicized word when another word later in the sentence should have been, but wasn’t) that literally made me stop crying from the storyline. Yes, I’m picky like that.

Doesn’t She Look Natural? by Angela Hunt (*** ¼, The first half of the book about a recently divorced widow who inherits a funeral home and moves into it with her two sons, her mother, and a very energetic Jack Russell, seemed to move slowly. At first Jen doesn’t want to be there, and I think her continual reticence/pining for her ex-husband gets a little boring. But slowly, as she learns to like the small Florida town and learns to appreciate the work of the funeral home, the book got better. Then end is a lot of twists and turns, none really expected, but decent. I’ve read Angela Hunt before, and this one, while having faith-based overtones to it as well, didn’t seem as “preachy” at the other one I’ve read. And apparently this is the first in a series about the characters and locale. I’ll be looking up the rest.)

The Church Ladies by Lisa E. Sampson (* ½, A minister’s wife struggles to live life in small town where Caesar’s wife must be above reproach. The crux of the story is the secret the main character, Poppy, harbors and the relationships she forms with the over ministers’ wives in town, but for being the title of the book, “the church ladies” really get short shrift. You don’t learn anything about them until the very end, and then it feels almost anecdotal. The emotional tug you’re supposed to feel in the middle never really hit as hard as it could, and I honestly never developed much interest in Poppy at all. Plus, I felt like I needed a companion guide to go along with this book on a lot of different levels. You should have a Bible handy, and if you’re not completely familiar with it, you should have some sort of Bible reference book handy because of all of the “there’s that verse that says”s Poppy uses. She also references “The Christian Ladies Handbook” ad nauseum, which probably isn’t even real, but you feel like you need to really understand the point she’s trying to make when she references it. A review on the back of the book says it’s “laugh-out-loud funny one minute, soul-deep serious the next.” Not so much.)

December 04, 2008 - Can cold medicine make your subconcious violent?

2008-12-04T17:11:00.005-05:00

Sometimes the dreams that I have do not quite fit under the "cool" category. In fact, most don't fit under the "cool" category. I can only think of one in the last year, and that was the one where I had a very nice makeout session with Simon Cowell. Usually the dreams are just odd. Sometimes downright weird. Occasionally bizarre. Rarely violent. That's why the last few nights' dreams have been so strange, even for me.

I don't know whether to blame it on the cold I'm suffering through or the medicine I'm taking to combat said cold, but something is screwing with my subconscious. I'm like Gozilla in Tokyo, destroying as many people as possible!

Two nights ago I was in a medical center. It's possible that I was a worker because by the end of the dream I was behind the glass partition that separated the patients from the nurses, but I rarely try to assign any logic to my dreams. I don't remember much about the dream, just that at one point Norm from "Cheers" was sitting in one of the waiting chairs and the next minute a co-worker/complete stranger and I were looking around, thankful that the police had stopped the bloodshed and had cleaned up from the killing spree that Norm had suddenly gone on, with or without provocation. I sense that he was tired of waiting, but I'd like to believe that wasn't the only reason.

As we stood there, surveying the damage and trying to get our bearings, we realized that there random shoes and purses scattered throughout what had been the waiting area and one piece of the back office. I thought everyone who'd survived had collected their belongings during the evacuation that I know happened but didn't witness in the dream, and I couldn't imagine where these people had gone. At that instant the co-worker/complete stranger opened up a closet and screamed. I ran over and looked in. There was blood everywhere and bodies were stacked up to the ceiling. Norm had just shoved them in there, I guess.

Normally dreams don't give me a lot of pause when I wake up, but this one had me closing my eyes and saying "don't go back, don't go back."

Last night was slightly less violent perhaps, but more maniacal on my part, I think. The first part of the dream was innocuous. I was at a grocery store, trying to buy cupcakes I think, and I got yelled at because I was walking around in the store with no shoes on. This was not the first time I'd been in that store in my dream though I've never been in that store in real life. And it was not the first time the girl that yelled at me has appeared in my dream though, as of this moment, I've never met her in real life. Watch. Someday I'll be strolling through the Kroger, and there she'll be.

After I left the store, I hurried to my meeting at the top of the Empire State Building. In real life, today, I had a work thing on Millionaire's Row Churchill Downs (where they run the Kentucky Derby), and I happen to think that's much, much cooler, but I suppose I can handle the Empire State Building if I have to. There was nothing extraordinary about the meeting, or the prep for it that I was in, until all of a sudden the bottom of the building just crashed into the ground.

How does a building crash into the ground, you might ask. It didn't so much crash as sink, violently, into the earth, leaving only the top five floors exposed. Everyone who was in the floors below (and that's a lot of floors!) was instantly crushed. Oops.

I wasn't particularly upset about the event. I think, worryingly enough, that I might have known it was going to happen. My only reaction was to say, "It's a good thing we're on the top floor" when the people for my meeting started to arrive. Let it be noted that none of them were really all that concerned either. Not even the priest in full archbishop regalia who stopped by with a lasagna in hand.

Random thoughts:

1. At Churchill Downs this morning there was a giant collector's Mint Julep cup (a new one is designed every year for the Kentucky Derby), complete with swizzle stick and sprig of mint. I wonder how one gets one of those???

2. God bless, Blistex!

3. Happy (belated) Birthday, yesterday, to Oliver Druschke!! In my defense, I didn't know he was born until this morning. :-)

December 02, 2008 - When you can't think of what to get that special someone for Christmas...

2008-12-02T20:41:00.003-05:00

When I talked to my mom the other day, she asked what I wanted for Christmas. Given my blog post the other day, I couldn't very well ask her for the 52" TV, so I said I'd think about it. Tonight, I decided to do some searching. She's 900 miles away and getting around isn't easy for her, so I figured that if I could find something online that I liked, I'd just use her debit card and get it for myself. She wouldn't object.

Now, there have been a ton of Overstock.com commercials on recently, and this afternoon they were advertising $1 shipping, so I thought I'd check the site out. When I got to the site there wasn't one thing that was burning in my head, so I clicked on the "Other" category just to see what popped up. Was I the only person who didn't know that Overstock sells coffins???

Seriously. There's a whole section devoted to caskets. And being the McKown that I am, I was intrigued and took a closer look. Maybe it's a little weird sitting at home in your robe on a Tuesday night, watching Santa Claus is Comin' to Town, and checking out coffins, but...c'est la vie.

Looking around, I had a few thoughts.

First, let's say that you see the selection and decide to go ahead and make a purchase. Where do you store the thing??? Imagine freaking your kid out some day in the future when he goes up to the attic or down to the basement looking for something innocuous like a box of photos and he stumbles across the coffin you're just holding on to until you have need. Odd.

Second, obviously if you're in need of a casket you're not likely going to be the one making the purchase, so it begs the question...what's the turnaround time for one of these things? How long are you going to have to be on ice so that your family can save a buck?

Third, how in the heck do you ship a coffin?? Do you come home to find one of those little cards in your box saying that you have a package too big for regular delivery?

As you can tell, I had lots of questions. I was very intrigued by this whole thing. So, I clicked on one of the choices, the "In God's Care" 18-inch steel guage to be exact. Truthfully I picked that one (versus the Earth, Wind, & Fire design - in black, the natural wood looks just a little too "pine box" for my taste) because it had a rated review and that begged another question...how do you write a review for a casket? Generally the person who's using it isn't going to care much. That answer was a little disappointing. It's just stars with a "recommended" statement. Boring. I was looking for "We tried it to make sure mom would be comfortable. Lots of leg room, and the fabric is really soft against your skin." Oh well.

Anyway, a few other questions were answered. Apparently the caskets are shipped 2-day via Federal Express, but don't expect shipping on the weekends or holidays. Die on a Thursday though and I guess you're screwed until Monday. Also, beware that if you live in certain parts of the western US, you have to wait three days. Those of you in MT, WY, and ND, consider yourself warned. Also, sorry to the people in Western NB. I'm assuming they mean Nebraska there, but psst...we actually use NE. New Brunswick is a little further north. ;-) Oh...I wonder about shipping to Canada...

One good thing to know is that all caskets come with a warranty. Again, doubt the person utilizing it is going to care much, but should a handle slip off or the lid not close properly, you can get a replacement. Don't expect a return however. "Due to the personal nature" (uh yeah!) of these items, they are not accepted. Apparently you can't take it with you. Nor can you send it back.

Random thoughts:

1. While looking at caskets, I was reading the dimensions. Most are only 74" long, my height exactly. This will be a problem because I demand to be buried in heels.

2. Colds give me REALLY funky dreams, but I can't ever remember them. I have long, complicated, very vivid dreams that I know are dreams while I'm in them, and I just can't recall any details when I wake up. It's annoying.

3. Happy Birthday today to Jeanne Cooper!

4. Happy Birthday tomorrow to Patti Thorson!

November 28, 2008 - People should be glad I'm not one of Santa's little helpers

2008-11-28T10:13:00.005-05:00

Reading the coverage of Black Friday this morning, I was struck by the ridiculous logic some people have when it comes to spending and the meaning of Christmas.

I've never gone out shopping on Black Friday for one simple reason...Nebraska always plays a football game that day. And in my world, football comes before crowded malls. I don't see the need to circle endlessly looking for a parking space, ANY parking space. Nor do I feel the need to be up at the crack of dawn (or long before) to get a deal on anything. I'm sure there are some good deals to be had, relatively speaking. I mean, give me a 52" flat screen HD TV for $10, and I'll be there, but knocking a hundred bucks off just isn't going to cut it for me to freeze the ta-tas off while lined up on hard cement.

But it's not the whole Black Friday tradition that I think is dumb. If shopping is your thing, and you have the money to go out and blow a load in every department store you see, have at it. But if you DON'T have the money...if you're talking to a reporter about how you're having to leverage Christmas gifts against food for your kids...don't talk about how you're saving a hundred bucks on the aforementioned TV. If you're struggling to put food on the table, do you really need a 52"? I tend to think not.

I never realized as a kid that we were actually fairly poor. Both of my parents worked full time (in fact, my mom had two jobs), but I know now my parents struggled. And I can remember more than a few Christmases where I only got one larger than average present or maybe a few smaller things, but that was it. Our Christmas tree always had a lot of room underneath it, and I remember moving what few packages we had around to make it appear like there were more. A couple of years, I even wrapped empty boxes just for the allusion. I was always amazed by people who spent an hour or two unwrapping presents on Christmas morning because for us it usually took about fifteen minutes, tops. And that was IF I didn't open the present from "Santa" on Christmas Eve after we returned from church.

So I get not having the money to make Christmas extravagant, and I imagine that if you have a large family to buy for, it has to be especially difficult in this recession. So WHY are people out buying such ridiculously large items? What makes them think that they have to buy these crazy gifts for people? I wouldn't mind a nice big TV to replace the one that I've had since I was a sophomore in college (though it still works just fine and therefore doesn't need to be replaced), but I wouldn't even think to ask someone to get that for me, or even worse, be disappointed if it wasn't there on Christmas morning. Heck! I'll be surprised if there's anything under my pre-lit but not decorated tree (kittens and decades old ornaments don't mix) come December 25th. And that's fine because I don't need anything, and I'm not asking for anything.

I understand the desire and perhaps even "need" to buy things for kids. The joy on their faces is reason enough alone. But if you're an adult, and you're worrying about paycheck to paycheck, you should not be expecting anything, especially something big and ridiculous like a 52" TV. How do you put that under the tree anyway???

Random thoughts:

1. Normally the Nebraska/Colorado football game is either right before or right after the Texas/Texas A&M game. This year it's Pittsburgh/West Virginia. I don't know what's up with that.

2. I'd never had green bean casserole until last year, but now it's hard to imagine Thanksgiving without it.

3. I wonder...if you buy a headboard that doesn't have an associated footboard...can you just buy an identical headboard and turn it around??

4. Happy (belated) birthday on the 21st to Polly Cox, and Happy Birthday on the 29th to Cheryl Stachniak!

November 04, 2008 - There's an electricity in the air!

2008-11-04T19:43:00.006-05:00

It's Election Day!!!

I'll admit that I'm a geek. I get excited for Election Day like some people get excited for Christmas or their birthdays. When I was little it was mysterious, an intriguing secret held by my parents. They'd take me to the polling place, but I'd either have to wait in the lobby or in the car (with the heater running...no need for that today when it was 75...). I always wanted to know what was going on, and as I got older, I was enthralled by the pagentry of it all: the speeches, the bunting, the waiting on Election Night to see the results. It's probably no wonder that I became a political science major in college and worked on a campaign in the fall of 2002.

I always get excited when an election rolls around, even the primaries, but this year is different. I really wasn't won over by any one candidate and in the end probably voted more based on party affiliation than an intense belief in one person over another. But despite that, this Election Day has been incredible because this year there's an electricity in the air, and it's not just me that feels it.

I'm always dismayed when after being excited all day long I sit down to watch results roll in and the turnout numbers are so low it hardly seems worth the effort and money required to run an election. But it's not like that this time. Everyone is talking about this election. Whether it's talking about the candidates or just paying attention, people have been involved. That's a rarity. And today it's become something incredible.

I don't ever remember an election where I've heard from friends and family who stood in a line to vote. Not just behind two or three people, but minutes, sometimes past the hour mark, waiting to cast a ballot. Every election is important, but it feels like this time people get that. They want to be involved. They want to be part of deciding the future not just of the country, but their states, cities, and school boards. They want to exercise the right that hard work has guaranteed for us. It's an amazing thing!!

Random election thoughts:

1. The Kentucky Secretary of State election result website sucks. It's way too hard to find a lot of results quickly.

2. It's 8:01 pm, and already NBC is calling 15 states. I'm not saying I want another 2000 election, but seriously...a 21 month race ending this quickly? A little anti-climactic.

3. How is "coroner" an office up for election? What is the criteria for that job? Does it require a specific degree? A medical license? And the bigger question...what kind of commercials would that race breed??

4. How does one get the job of painting in the states on the Rockefeller Center ice rink as they're called? I mean, I can't ice skate, but I'd sure learn for that job!

October 24, 2008 - What you are about to see is NOT an improvement.

2008-10-24T18:20:00.005-04:00

It's a universal truth that all good things will come around again, given enough time. The problem occurs when things are brought back but not improved upon, nor even just kept as good as they were the first time. Case in point? Unsolved Mysteries.

I LOVED this show as a kid. LOVED it. Ok, so the ghost segments scared me a little, but I still tuned in every Wednesday night, if for no other reason than to get the crap scared out of me, and from the first moment the show hooked me in. "What you are about to see is not a news broadcast." Sold. And the freaky theme music?? Fabulous.

I was so into this show that I watched the reruns when the show moved to Lifetime about the time that I went to college. It was the best part of a sick day, catching a few episodes in the middle of the afternoon. Sure, the bank robber hadn't been caught. And the UFOs still hadn't been explained. But you paid attention because Robert Stack told you to. And who argues with Elliot Ness, especially when he's telling you the story of Elliot Ness's biggest unsolved crime! I loved this show so much that I still have the telecenter number emblazoned in my head. 1-800-876-5353. I've always kind of wanted to call it, just to see how they would answer the phone. "Unsolved Mysteries. Which mystery can you solve today?"

So, imagine my pleasure when I was scrolling through the TV guide thingy the other day and discovered that Unsolved Mysteries was back on TV! New episodes??? Old ones even??? No. It's some craptastic combination of the two and definitely NOT an improvement.

First, the host. I recognize the fact that Robert Stack is dead, but really, if any show was going to pull off that hosting trick, this one would be it. Instead the new version settles for Dennis Farina. Chances are you had to google him to even know who I'm talking about. You'd recognize him if you see him, but there's no other way to describe him as a host except for "cheap substitute." He doesn't have the voice, the creepy heavy eyebrow. And without the trenchcoat, surrounded by dark fog, there's no point.

Second, the theme. Completely reworked. It retains the essensce of the original theme, but it's not at all as creepy. And creepy was everything. The original theme meant to inspire chills. This one inspires nothing.

Third and most importantly, the mysteries. I don't mind replaying the old mysteries. There are some of them that I really like: the female automotive designer con-artist who was really a man, the warden's wife who went missing with an escaped prisoner, and the reincarnation of lovers into two complete strangers, one of which just happened to be watching the story when it originally aired and recognized himself as the woman's lover in her past life! So I don't mind the old stories, BUT why do they have to put a black band around the old footage as if to demonstrate that it's old. The 80's clothes and hair are enough to do that. Plus, they're cutting and editing the stories down (remember, I've seen them all enough to know), and it just cheapens the whole thing. I've heard rumors that there are new stories to be included in the series as it airs now, but I'll believe it when I see it. And I can almost guarantee I'm not going to get as into them as I did with the original stories, for the forementioned reasons.

Why remake something if you're not going to do it justice? It's an unsolved mystery to me.

Random thoughts:

1. Happy Birthday today to Amy Helgeson, Amy Conn, and Darlene Havel! As an added bonus...Happy United Nations Day!

2. Today was a Cold, Rainy, Late October Friday. So close to a Cold, Rainy, Late October Thursday, but just a few hours too late to be awesome.

3. I really need a larger kitchen. I'd sell a kidney for more counterspace.

September 26, 2008 - Pick a fight for the love of God!!!

2008-09-26T21:23:00.003-04:00

The problem with this particular presidential election is that I really don't care who wins. I'm a Democrat so for my conscience I'll probably vote for Obama, but I'm not convinced. And while I don't think that McCain is the devil that most Republicans are (I say that with some of my best friends hanging out in the R column) ;), he hasn't convinced me either. This would be the first election where one really good argument could swing my vote. Too bad I haven't heard any really good arguments.

I'm sitting here as I type, watching the first presidential debate, and maybe it's because I don't care, or maybe it's because they're just talking in circles, but I find myself paying more attention to the look of the thing as to the substance.

A few observations:

1. Jim Lehrer really wants these two to pick a fight with each other. Has he not read the debate handbook? That's not allowed. Debates are boring, staid, the least about of confrontation possible. He's really expecting too much. Though I'm sure ratings for Debate #2 would skyrocket if he got his wish.

2. Barack Obama looks like a goat. It's a weird thing I do, assigning people animals based on facial features or mannerisms, and I've never even considered doing that for the candidates until tonight when, during Obama's opening comments, I looked up and thought, "He looks like a goat." It's something about the shape of the head, the tapered jaw, and the hooded eyes. And I have to say that tonight he looks like a rather mean goat. As a friend put it, "Yes. With his eyebrows furrowed he looks ready to butt at the camera."

3. There's always been something about McCain's appearance that's been off-putting to me. I'm not sure why, but I've just never really liked him, and I figured out why tonight. He reminds me of a puppet. I'm not talking about a figurative puppet for the party. He's too much of a "maverick" for that. ;) No, no. I mean that he looks like a puppet. A marionette to be exact. Most of his face never moves, only his eyes and his mouth. He can't raise his arms or move them gracefully (and yes, I know that's as a result of his POW time...don't get all defensive), so it looks like someone from above is controlling him by strings. It's creepy. If you don't think so, you need to see the episode of The Twilight Zone when the dummy takes over the handler!

4. McCain needs a better tie for Debate #2. This one looks like a candy cane got flattened. It's not bright enough or bold enough to stand out.

Random thoughts

1. I was supposed to have a nice two days with nothing on the agenda to get me through this weekend. Now I have to be up and collecting donuts for work at 6 am tomorrow. Yuck!

2. There is no logical reason why gas 50 miles away should be $.20 cheaper, but it is.

3. Happy Birthday to:

belatedly to Carlene Brown on the 24th!
Angela Beverly on the 26th!
Kara Brown on the 28th!
Roger Deininger and Terry Alvey on the 29th!

September 18, 2008 - I must have mised something

2008-09-18T22:24:00.004-04:00

Apparently there was a memo circulated, or maybe a commercial that ran on a channel that I don't watch, but I must have missed whatever it was that said "abortion clinics are the places to meet women."

I thought that the Craigslist missed connection for the balding man at the abortion clinic was pretty much an isolated incident. Who would think otherwise?

Well, think otherwise my friends, because today someone gave me the link to a website called OverheardinNewYork. As with the Craigslist ad, I cannot speak to the veracity of what's being posted (Was a girl in daisy dukes really looking for her Prince Charming in a wifebeater and sweatpants outside of an abortion clinic??), but if it is true, we are are a sorry, sorry state.

As reported from a bathroom at Fordham University:

Dude #1: ...so do you think I can have dibs on her, or is that not a good idea?
Dude #2: What do you mean?
Dude #1: Well, she had an abortion six weeks ago.
Dude #2: Oh dude, what are you doing!?
Dude #1: Yeah, but can't she not get pregnant because she just had an abortion?
Dude #2: Oh, that's a good point. I don't think that works like that...
Dude #1: But it was six weeks ago.
Dude #2: Oh, I thought you said six months ago! Yeah, man, you got a sweet deal there. I can't believe your luck, where do you keep meeting these women!?

This new horrifying trend gives me pause. Is it possible that the reason I haven't met a great guy yet is because I simply haven't gotten myself knocked up and then rid myself of the fetus?

I'm suddenly thinking I will stay very, very single for a very, very long time...

Random thoughts:

1. OverheardinNewYork is a pretty interesting site, but it cannot possibly beat the amusement level of Wordsplosion! People after my own heart, putting all bad spellers and poor grammarians on notice.

2. It was a tough decision last night, trying to determine if I was going to root for Kansas State to beat Louisville, just because I dislike Louisville (a lot), or root for Louisville just so that a Big 12 North Division team would lose a game and maybe help out the Huskers. Turns out Louisville won, and I don't care either way. Huh.

3. Happy Birthday today to Sheila Shontz! Happy Birthday on the 21st to Sara Vontz! And Happy Birthday on the 22nd to Becky Buelt!

4. Totally haven't seen or spoken to those last two people for the last 15 or so years, but I still remember their birthdays. If I thought that talent had any good use for humanity, I'd donate my brain to science, but I doubt that's the case.

September 15, 2008 - Gone with the wind...

2008-09-15T18:38:00.005-04:00

Who would have thought that the most bizarre weather I've ever encountered would take place in Louisville?? Since I've moved here I've experience a tornado in February, an earthquake in April, and now a hurricane in September!

Ok, actually I didn't get to experience the remnant of Hurricane Ike that shot through the area yesterday afternoon. I'd driven to Lexington to spend some time with the family, and while I had one moment of panic that might car might be tossed into the air and off the bridge spanning the Kentucky River, the drive was pretty uneventful, if windy. There was little bits of tree debris scattered everywhere, making the route look like any road in Nebraska after a good July severe thunderstorm, but nothing that indicated we were about to get hammered.

And indeed, nothing too dramatic happened in the several hours I was in Lexington. A tree broke off a tree across the street from my aunt's, and I heard today that some power outages occurred in town, but nothing huge. I didn't even realize what had happened until I drove back to Louisville.

As I drove down the street toward my apartment, I noticed that a lot of businesses were closed, and it was pretty easy to figure out it had something to do with the power given that pretty much every intersection was operating on the four-way stop concept. Let me take a second to declare that Louisvillians have a very loose understanding of that concept.

There was only one fast-food restaurant open along the road, so I pulled in to get something before I got home and discovered that I had no power and therefore no way to cook, and I waited for half an hour in the drive through to get a couple of fish planks from Long John Silver's. And green beans. Long John Silver's, for whatever reason, has really good green beans. When I got to the window, the girl on duty looked out and immediately turned around saying, "it goes all the way back to the street, ya'll!!" She then told me that the people behind me in line were going to be mad because they were going to have to close the store as they were running out of food.

I drove home, trying to figure out how I was going to find an all-black cat in an unlit apartment and successfully measure out her medicine, give it to her, and not end up bleeding somehow in the process. Luckily, I walked into the apartment and my lights all turned on, the cable worked (which was absolutely critical given that the Steelers were playing on TV last night, and I was fully tempted to drive back to Lexington and camp out at Aunt Linda's if luck wasn't on my side), and the cats didn't seem to be worse for the wear.

I didn't realize just how lucky I was until I watched the 11 o'clock news. Almost 300,000 people are without power (or were...some have been restored today), and trees are down everywhere. Crazy. We really did have a hurricane without the rains. Winds reached almost 80 mph at the worst and were sustained at 50 mph for over an hour. And I missed it. I have to deal with the after-effects, but I still missed out on the good stuff. I'm a little disappointed, even if I am extremely grateful.

Random Thoughts:

1. If you haven't seen this already, watch it. Then tell me two things: Why did Tina Fey leave SNL, and when is she coming back?

http://www.nbc.com/Saturday_Night_Live/video/clips/palin-hillary-open/656281/

2. The great cat integration of Jonah and Abbie is not going so well. I feel like a bad parent.

3. I don't drink it a lot, but I really enjoy the odd occasion when I get an Orangina.

4. Thank my cousin, Michael, for my new blog home. We'll see how I like it.