As I said in a previous blog, I usually don’t make New Year’s resolutions; however, I did find one that I particularly liked this year. I wonder if anyone has polled the population and figured out whether it’s women or men who make most resolutions.
I tend to think it’s women, because we always think there’s something wrong with us, and we tend to let everyone know about it. (For example, who here doesn’t know that I am impulsive, I love Sephora, and when you combine the two, I’m out of control?!)
With men, I think that even if they know they have an issue, they keep it quiet, silently obsessing about it, and never vow publically to do anything about it like we do; thereby, they create the illusion to women that they think they’re perfect!
Anyway, as my friend, Jeff, said today, “It's been a heckuva year, my Dear.” And, it has been, not just for me, but I think for most everyone. That being said, things seem a lot different today than they did last January 31st. The ending of the old year certainly comes with a new perspective for the beginning of the new year.
Do I want change in 2010? Yes. But, not for me, though I always try to self-improve throughout the year. I want the world to change in 2010. Well, I know the whole world can’t change, but if I had to make a resolution, it would be that things become that much better next year, not just for me but for everyone.
As for myself, instead of thinking of what the New Year will bring, oddly, I find myself looking back on the year. In retrospect, I only had two really bad days out of the 365 this year. They were February 11th, the day I lost a job I loved (and fortunately I did not lose the people I loved at the job I loved), and November 30th, the day I euthanized Rover.
And, looking back, do you know which day was worse? Yes, it was November 30th. Because, in retrospect, I got to do a lot of wonderful things this year, because I didn’t have a job.
This year, I didn’t have a job, but don’t you think I had it all? I do. My job, this year, was to enjoy each and every day; I'm now convinced that it was the job of a lifetime. And, while I could hope for a change in the new year with a resolution, this year I choose to being thankful for the past year with reflection. And a happy Old Year to everyone! ♥
Since I am most popular (even if it’s only in my own mind, but still pretty popular as far as being popular in my own mind goes), I receive MANY questions from readers. So, I’m going to take this opportunity to answer some of them.
Dear Goddess,
May I ask you to write a review for my screen capture product on your blog? I will present you with a license for free.
K.P., Goosepimple Junction, VA
I do not promote products on my blog, and if I did, believe me, I would only promote products like cat food, cookie cutters, shoes, pink computers and phones, mascara, and the perfect travel coffee mug!
Hell if I know. But, I do believe it has something to do with all the drugs that I didn’t take in college.
Dear Goddess,
Will Nathan ever get his license?
Z.S., Frankenstein, MS
Yes, but it will probably be well after Iz and Plume get theirs!
Dear Goddess,
Is it true that you appeared in a book naked?
G.O., Bad Axe, MI
One upon a time, I did appear in the book “Cats and Their Women,” but I was not naked. Well, I was in the bathtub; therefore, I wasn’t wearing any clothes. (And for the record, I stopped wearing clothes in the bathtub long ago, because you don’t get as clean as you do when don’t have clothes on.) So, technically, I suppose I was naked; and non-technically, I was clothed in bubbles and not really naked.
Here is the text for my photo in the book.
Casper is the youngest member of what my grandmother likes to call my "cat collection," which presently includes four felines. I did not discover that Casper was aquatic until I began to take frequent bubble baths to alleviate my aches and pains from long cycling treks.
When Casper hears the water running in the bathroom, he comes in and parks himself on the bath mat. When I get in the tub, he jumps on the edge and roams up and down, occasionally stopping to stick his paw into the bubbles, wash himself, or, much to his surprise, pull his long tail out of the water.
Casper seems to defy the rules of nature, well, at least cat nature, with his aquatic tendencies. I think he's really a cat fish.
And, here is my photo.
Dear Goddess,
What was the most interesting vanity license plate you saw today?
A.T., Cow Yard, MA
It would have to be the plate I saw on a Toyota, which read LACTATE. I can’t imagine paying extra money for a vanity plate and then putting LACTATE on it, unless of course LACTATE was some up and coming new band. I can see SUZIEQ, PEACE, IMKEWL, or even PROCREATE (which would really have to be PROCREAT), but LACTATE?!
Dear Goddess,
Which came first – the chicken or the egg?
Q.B., Sweet Lips, TN
Oh, how I hate these rubix-cube type philosophical questions. Of course, the answer is obvious. The feline came first. (See the First Testament of the Great Cat Goddess for more information.) And, in case you didn’t know, the feline was then closely followed by the person who invented Sephora.
Dear Goddess,
The pumpkin cake sounds yummy. Do you part with the recipe?
Anyway, it wasn’t a pumpkin cake; I lied. It was a cake that contained pumpkin. Here’s the recipe, which includes a pretty picture, provided free of charge, of what it’s supposed to look like upon completion. Your baking mileage may vary. Vermont Spice Cake
Cake
1 ½ cups granulated sugar ¾ cup (1 ½ sticks) butter, softened 3 eggs 1 ½ cups LIBBY”S Solid Pack Pumpkin 1 ½ teaspoons vanilla extract ½ cup CARNATION Evaporated Milk ¼ cup water 3 cups all-purpose flour 3 ½ teaspoons baking powder 1 ½ teaspoons ground cinnamon 1 teaspoon baking soda ¾ teaspoon ground nutmeg ½ teaspoon salt ¼ teaspoon ground cloves ¼ teaspoon ground ginger Chopped nuts and/or nut halves (optional – just say “No” to nuts!)
Maple Frosting
1 package (8 ounces) and 1 package (3 ounces) cream cheese softened 1/3 cup butter, softened 3 ½ cups sifted powdered sugar 2 to 3 teaspoons maple flavoring
For Cake: Beat granulated sugar and butter in large mixer bowl until creamy. Add eggs; beat for 2 minutes. Add pumpkin and vanilla; mix well. Beat in evaporated milk and water.
Combine flour, baking powder, cinnamon, baking soda, nutmeg, salt, cloves and ginger in large bowl. Beat into pumpkin mixture.
Spread pumpkin mixture evenly into 2 greased and floured 9-inch round cake pans. Bake in preheated 325 degree oven for 35 to 40 minutes or until wooden pick inserted comes out clean. Cool in pans on racks for 15 minutes. Remove from pans; cool.
For Maple Frosting: Beat cream cheese and butter in large mixer bowl; gradually beat in powdered sugar. Beat in maple flavoring until fluffy.
To Assemble: Cut cakes in half horizontally with long serrated knife.* Frost between layers and on top of cake, leaving sides unfrosted. Top with nuts, but don’t if you’re just saying “No” to nuts! Store in refrigerator. Makes 12 servings.
*Note: To make a 2-layer cake, frost between layers, over top, and on sides of cake. Garnish with nuts. No nuts!!!!
Dear Goddess,
Do kittens have more fun?
D.N., Yreka Zzyzx, CA
Yes, but only when they’re conscious, which is not often.
Dear Goddess,
I am trying to become more handy around the house, yet I still want to incorporate some measure of femininity while doing so. What do you recommend?
E.E., Whynot, NC
When I’m slapping on yet another new addition to my house, putting up drywall, or handcrafting a reproduction of a 1836 high boy out of two-by-fours, I always keep this tool kit by my side.
Nothing says, “Handy chick!” like a pink took kit!
Dear Goddess,
Have you been able to find the perfect travel mug yet? And, if so, what kind is it?
C.U., Cat Elbow Corner, NY
Alas, I was fortunate enough to receive the perfect travel mug as a Christmas present!
You can put it in the dishwasher, put it in the microwave, AND you can fold, spindle, and mutilate it, yet you won’t hear a peep out of it with any sort of complaint! I can’t wait to take it on my 6:30am drive to high school or to a cold hockey rink.
Rumor has it that Brookstone sells a talking version of this mug that says “Before you leave the house, make sure that your underwear is right side out,” “Tell Nathan to call his driver’s ed instructor again,” “Icing occurs when a player shoots the puck across at least two red lines, the opposing team's goal line being the last, and the puck remains untouched,” and lastly, "I have no idea why that kid is in the penalty box either; I'm a travel mug not a hockey referee, Lady!"
Dear Goddess,
Do your readers really ask you a lot of questions?
J.D., Fear Not, PA
Of course, they do! Do you actually think I’m creative enough to make up all these questions on my own? ♥
Who Gave You the Pink Tool Kit and the Perfect Travel Mug Note Even Though It's Technically a Question and Not a Note: Thanks to Brenda and Steve for my pink tool kit and my perfect travel mug; they were my favorite presents. “The best gifts are not those that cost the most money but those that show how well you know the person you’re giving the present to.”
Note to Self: Always mention on your blog the things you might like to have; someone is bound to read about it and then buy it for you! Um, no one’s given me the Alfa yet. Anyone?! Anyone?!
Yesterday morning at 10am, I was left with an entirely empty house. Well, the furniture, the beds, the dishes, my shoes and the like were all present, including and all my little domestic furry creatures; however, Iz had departed for a trip to her grandparent’s.
Once again, she didn’t want to budge from home, but John, her Dad, told me how much her grandparents wanted to see her. He asked me if I could do anything to coax her into going. I’m not only adding “cat whisperer” to my resume but “child whisperer” as well.
As I folded laundry, she ran into the my bedroom and said, “Have you seen Plume?” I knew exactly where Plume was, but from under the bed, I heard Plume say, “Shh!” I knew I had to placate Iz for larger reasons, so I said, “Plume’s under the bed.” Sorry, Plume!
I saw Iz disappear under the bed, and they she pulled Plume out. If cats can give you the middle finger, I think Plume was so flipping me the bird just then. I said to Iz, “Grandma and Grandpa would really like to see you.” Iz said, “Aw, I want to stay home with you.”
I had to take it up a notch. I said, “Well, they don’t get to see you much. So, it would be nice if you went for a visit with Daddy.” I didn’t see this coming at all, a very valid comeback. Iz said, “But, I was just there in November.” Indeed she was!
I knew then that I had to take it up two more notches. I said, “Aunt Meg and Uncle Steve want to see you, too.” She scrunched up her face, turned her head to the side, and sighed, indicating to me that she was still not keen on spending time with the relatives.
Though I hated myself for doing it, I had go to extreme measures then. I said, “They have PRESENTS they want to give you.” She unscrunched her face, popped her head up as if she was a turtle poking its head out of its shell, and then said, “Presents?!?! Why didn’t you say that? I’ll go!”
She thought for a moment and then said, “But, I’ll miss you, Mommy.” I had to ice this VisitGrandmaandGrandpa cake. I said, “When you get back, I’ll take you to the aquarium for the day.” She said, “Okay! And, can I get a stuffed animal there?”
Long ago, I had put a moratorium on stuffed animals, as her closet door was already incapable of being closed due to the ever expanding stuffed animal population inside it. (And is it just me, or do stuffed animals procreate like rabbits?!) I said, “Sure. You can get a stuffed animal.” She said, “Yeeeeeeeeeessssssss! I’m going to go pack. Can I use your blue-flowered bag, Mommy?”
I then informed John that he had a co-pilot for the trip. I told him that I had to use the “P” word and offer a trip to the aquarium. He said, very heartfelt, “Thank you.” Since it was the holidays, and I was feeling extra generous in the “child whispering” department, I added, “You might bring along the $50 gift card to Toys ‘r Us from Aunt Julie, because I think if all her presents are clothes, she might be a tad disappointed.” He said, “Good idea,” and then thanked me again.
After she left, I sat at my desk, and I was amazed by what I heard, because it had been so long since I heard it – the sound of silence. Other than the tick-tock of the Hello Kitty clock to the right of my desk, it was all quiet on the Eastern Front. I have to say that I sat in my chair, reveled in it, and then I felt guilty about it.
An hour later, as I began to clean up what the Iz tornado had done to her room and the house while packing, I missed her. I worried about her 12-hour trip (Western Pennsylvania) in the car. Ironically, my free time then was not necessarily "free." Suddenly, it became all about doing things to forget how much I missed her.
Normally, my “to do” list when written on paper looks something like this.
When Iz is around, I tend to start with 1a, but then she asks, “Mom, can I have some crackers?” When I return to the list, I go to do 1b; however, then Iz asks from downstairs, “Mommy, can you help me with this?” Again, when I return to the list, I am downstairs, so I decide to do 3a instead, leaving 1b and 1c for later; and somehow, later never comes.
Then Iz has moved upstairs into her bedroom and then asks, “Mommy, can you read me this book in my bed.” When I resume my list again, I am now upstairs so I do 4b thinking I’ll do 4a after 4b but not before resuming with 1b and 1c, but somehow that never happens.
Yesterday, I looked at my list, and I was able to accomplish everything in order. By the time 5pm rolled around, I had done things I had meant to do for ages, which was good; however, I then realized that being out of order and being with Iz may be what the order in my life was really all about. ♥
This afternoon, I picked up Nate, thereby ending my Home Aloneness, thank goodness. Although, when Nathan is here in his room playing with his X-box, it’s like he’s in his own country - The United States of Nathan, Nathanslavia, Nathanland, or Great Nathan. He’s old enough that he’s self-sufficient, except when he needs me to drive him somewhere!
When he walked out of his Dad’s house, he carried a pile of stuff in his arms, which comprised his laptop, its power cord and mouse, and the cherry on top of all of it was a shiny object, which looked like a CD. He kept pointing to it as he approached the car.
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah! Nathan made yet another music CD for the car. Nathan and I don’t always see eye-to-eye where music is concerned. In a blog post past, I had mentioned a particular 9 Inch Nails song that I could certainly live without.
He got in the car and showed me the CD. On it, it said “Mom’s music” in a circle with an “X” through it. Nathan said, “Dad did this.” I started to laugh. Obviously, Quinn knew how fond I was of Nathan’s CDs.
Nathan inserted the CD into the player, and I braced myself. I looked at Nathan, and he said, “Mom, really, I think this is Mom-friendly music!” I listened, and when I heard the first song, I said, quite amazed, “I like this! Who is this?” Nathan answered, “Modest Mouse.” After a song by “A Tribe Called Quest,” I said again in amazement, “I like this, too.”
I then asked a bit doubtful, “What’s next?” Nathan said, “I don’t know if you’ll like it. It’s all 40s music.” I said, ‘You’re kidding me.” He said, “No, seriously, Mom!” On came Cole Porter singing “Anything Goes.” And, after that was Billie Holiday singing “Crazy He Calls Me,” a song I love. I said, “I love music from the 40s, Nathan. Where did you hear this music?” He said, “Well, my game, Fallout 3 has all these songs on it.”
I had to laugh. Normally, I wasn’t one to enjoy computer games; however, just then, I thought it was wonderful that a game had incorporated such great old songs into its soundtrack, giving younger kids a taste of the very old instead of the usual Nine Inch Nails genre. And, today, it was especially nice to find that despite our different tastes in music, Nathan and I found a common soundtrack, one that we could share forever. ♥
When I was at the gym about two weeks ago, I saw that the gym had a new trainer, a woman. Earlier in the year, I had received two sessions as a gift with the male trainer at the gym. I used them, but when cycling season came around, I wanted to be outside riding my bike rather than inside pumping iron and running on the treadmill.
Okay, I was never really “pumping iron” then. What I was really doing then was probably the equivalent of lifting cans of lima beans in my kitchen. But, I did try to tone in addition to just doing “cardio.” And, I love the way some people say “Cardio” like they’re saying “Hermes.” “So, then I did my Cardio,” and you’re supposed to be all impressed like they’re using a Birken bag as a gym bag!
Anyway, I saw Sarah’s (the personal trainer) cigar box sitting there on the table all covered in pretty paper with a sign that said, “Win a free personal training session!” All I had to do was fill out a card with the standard information, put it in the box, and wait to see if I won.
I thought positively: “What the heck! Perhaps this IS the time to tone my thighs and arms.” I thought negatively: “Oh, I never win anything. I’m destined to be a tad flabby.” I filled out the card, opened the lid, and put my card in. To my amazement, the box was empty, well, except for my card. I then thought, “Hmm. I think my chances might be pretty good.”
And, I take that back. I had won before. (Well, I had won track competitions, volleyball games, and cycling racings.) But, I had also won two drawings in my life. My first win was at a criterium race in which I competed. I got second in the race at the historic Holman stadium (and I have no idea why it is historic); but, I won the first in the prize drawing, which was a Thule bike rack.
Then about 12 years ago, I won a baking contest at work. I made a pumpkin cake; and, I was told I got second. Everyone wondered why. The perplexing thing about it was that the woman who won made an apple pie in which the skin was still left on all of the apples. I didn’t try it, but I heard it wasn’t good as you can imagine.
After the announcement was made that Patty had won, there were many people whispering back and forth. One of my co-workers, who was a judge, looked at me and said, “What? Your cake was so much better!” Later, a woman from HR came into my office and told me that they had screwed up and awarded Patty first when my cake was voted first. Victory - it’s not as sweet after the fact...in your office!
Anyway, a few days after tossing my card into Sarah’s cigar box, I got an email saying I had won! And, victory is not as sweet when you know you probably had the ONLY card in the box. But, being positive, it was a victory nevertheless.
At 10:30 today, I had a “training” date with Sarah. From the picture on her business card, I became a bit intimidated. Prior to our meeting, she asked me “Are you interested in signing on for training?” I replied that while I would like to, I was unemployed, so I couldn’t.
I told her that I’d just like a 30-minute work-out for my arms and thighs. She responded with, “Ok, so you really need an orientation to use the machines then.” She sounded somewhat disappointed, though I thought I was being honest in that I was asking her to give me 30 minutes of her time instead of 60 minutes.
When I arrived at the gym this morning, I recognized her from her card. I saw her and asked, “Sarah?” She questioned, “Jean?” I said it was me, and then once I had my gym-legal (shoes you hadn’t just worn inside from outdoors) sneakers on, she said, “Come with me.”
I have to say that her hot pink sweat pants with the bedazzled heart on the back of them and her fake French-manicured fingernails did not give me a lot of confidence in her from the get go. And, as Suze says, “Always go with your gut.” My gut was that Sarah was not going to be any good for me, even it was for free in that moment.
She ushered me around to about six different machines that would be good for thighs and arms. At each machine, she demonstrated the exercise and then said, “Well, you can do this later.” I thought I would at least have her with me while I went through the workout on each machine, but no.
After her curt instruction, I would try to use the machine, and then like the game of Twister she’d say, “Elbows in. Pull out. Thrust further forward. Right hand on yellow! Left foot on green” After a whirlwind 15 minutes, I couldn’t remember much of what she said, and then she even asked in a taunting way, “So, do you think you will remember any of this?”
Sarah waltzed off, and then I attempted a bit of what she suggested, but I did forget a lot of it. Retreat! I went back to my usual gym workout. I got on the treadmill and ran 3.5 miles. I didn’t even bother to go back to the machines after that.
Note to Self: When you have money again, don’t hire Sarah with the fake French-manicured finger nails.
I was trying to make an extra effort or perhaps a pre-New Year’s Eve resolution with the weight training. And, that’s the great thing about resolutions; you can make one as soon as you know what one is; thus, 10, 36, 56, or 76, you’re never too old to start over again.
The ironic thing was that Sarah’s last email said: “I'm giving away a SPECIAL OFFER right now! Sign up with me for 2 sessions weekly for 3 months and only pay $55 each week! Get in shape for the holidays NOW... JUMP START your New Year's Resolution!”
It seemed like Sarah didn’t give a hoot about my attempt at a resolution; it only mattered to her that I had the money to retain her. And, she lost my future business today because of that.
Today, I decided that I’m just going to be who I am no matter who I or anyone else thinks I should be. And, it’s always good to have New Year’s resolutions to remind yourself that no matter where you are in life you can always start over even if it’s not at the gym. ♥
Tonight, my blog is short and sweet – I know, for once! (It's also late for my night owl readers!) Well, the reason it's late is indeed because of “Bye, George.” Now, you’re asking yourself, “What the heck is she talking about?”
Did someone spike her eggnog? Did she inhale too many evergreen fumes? Has eating all that cookie dough the last few days clogged the major artery to her brain?! (Is there a major artery to the brain? Okay, it doesn’t really matter since you should really get my drift by now!)
My friend, George, was up from Austin, Texas this past week visiting family for the holiday. And, I spent the evening with him. (Yes, my late and short blog is all George's fault. He is the "perp." Oh, dear. I have been watching to much Law & Order!)
Exhibit A, George (a.k.a., Georgie):
This picture is from my trip to Austin two and a half years ago; however, George and I concluded tonight that it was too many years ago. So, Austin or bust, if I still don’t have a job by February!!!
On that trip, I shipped my bike down, and George and I biked all over Texas. Okay, we didn’t really, but it felt like it! (Texas was where I had my first quickie, um, quick outdoor pee, and where I first saw Eliza Gilkyson, who is featured in my soundtrack.)
Anyway, George and I got together for dinner tonight. George craved fried clams. AND, did you know you can’t get fried clams in Texas? That’s it; I’m never moving to Texas!
We had planned to eat at Gibbet Hill Grill; however, when George called today, he told me his fried clam dinner date for last night didn't work out, so could we go to “The Lobster Boat” tonight instead. I said that was fine by me.
But, I did giggle at the thought going to a place called “The Lobster Boat.” Perhaps it was because I was subjected to Nickelodeon 24/7 these days. I half expected to be greeted by a maitre d’ named Squidward and for their specialty to be crabby patties. Oh, ye of little seafood faith!
In the end, George got his fried clams for dinner. I tasted one; they were fantastic. And, I had fish and chips. (Just in case you're wondering, there was no Squidward or crabby patties to be found there, okay?)
After dinner, I drove George back to where he was staying. We chatted for about three hours catching up, in which I confessed I still had nightmares about peeing behind that bush in Texas waiting for some scorpion (or some equivalent icky Texas creature) to bite my bottom!
Somehow Christmas had exhausted me this year, which is funny given that I wasn’t even working. I was dragging today, and I knew I was, because I didn’t even bother going to the gym. But, after I saw George, my gas tank went from empty to full in about 5 seconds. The power of friendship is indeed amazing sometimes, isn’t it? ♥
“We cannot tell the precise moment when friendship is formed. As in filling a vessel drop by drop, there is at last a drop which makes it run over. So in a series of kindness there is, at last, one which makes the heart run over.“
~James Boswell
Have a safe trip back, Georgie. I'll see you in March, as long as the scorpions promise to stay away, way far away from my bottom! ♥
If it takes a village to raise a child, then it’s got to take something equally significant to get a small kitten to assimilate into a two-cat, one-dog, and two kid household!
Since her arrival, Plume has lived in Nathan’s room with her food, water, and a litter box. While there, she has spent a good deal of her time wrapped up in a blanket being petted in Nathan’s lap or under Nathan’s bed. She has had brief field trips to the family room. During those times, she was in my lap, wrapped up in one of Iz’s fuzzy baby blankets, while I stroked her gently.
She is a lovely little kitten, though a tad shy; however, this is totally understandable given that she’s been shuffled through three or four homes during her 7 months. And, sometimes I feel badly that such a shy kitten has been thrust into this hustling and bustling household, though I say, “She’s just got to get over it, and I will help her.”
I am a Cat Whisperer when I’m not a Technical Writer. (Hey, I should put Cat Whisperer on my resume and see if anyone notices!) Actually, the way Plume seems most comfortable is wrapped up or under cover (the bed).
Today, she reminded me of one of my cat whispering efforts long ago. I was pregnant with Nathan, and Quinn and I had taken our Saab in for repair. We heard that the mechanics were feeding two feral cats, and when I heard that, I looked at Quinn and said, “We must do something.”
Quinn, being the lovely cat guy he is, supported my effort to “rescue” them. (We had four of our own at home at the time.) And, this all occurred about the time my Mom died, so I guess more than ever, I really needed to save lives that I knew I could.
I remember we talked to the owner of the dealership about taking the cats. In turn, he asked the mechanics to get the cats into the garage, and when they did, they called us. Quinn and I went over on a Saturday afternoon.
The first cat, a black cat, was pretty easy to capture. He didn’t seem to be feral, only a very friendly cat without a home. The second cat, a tiger, was much harder to catch. We chased her over the Saabs and under the Saabs in the garage. We finally caught her and brought the two of them “home.”
We kept them in our basement initially. The black cat was very eager to mingle with our other four cats, so we let him. The tiger cat, who I named Cleo, was not. I named her Cleo after my Mom’s favorite cat, Cleopatra Puss.
The black cat got his name due to necessity. My Dad was in need of companionship, and he said that he always wanted a cat named “Bruno.” One night on the phone I said, “Dad, I have this lovely black cat, and you’ll never guess what his name is. It's Bruno!” Sold! And off Bruno went to live with my Dad.
Cleo was very shy. But, each night, I brought her up from the basement, put her in this little yellow cat sack I bought, and kept her on my lap and patted her while I watched TV. Slowly but surely, she began to venture out of her cat sack until finally she was sleeping with the “tribe.”
Quinn and I were just about ready to consider her cat dependent number five when my engineering manager at work said she might like a cat. Shortly thereafter, Cleo went to live with her.
Plume has been much like Cleo so far, very fearful and in need of a cocoon in which to prepare for life on the outside. Though today, we had to put phase 1 (quarantine adjustment period) behind us. We entered Phase 2 – You are Now Free to Move about the Cabin. I opened the door to Nathan’s room; thus, Plume could freely roam about the house if she wanted to.
With her new found freedom, Plume spent time on Nathan’s bed, under Nathan’s bed, and in Iz’s bedroom. I looked in on Plume and Iz.
Iz said, “Mommy, I’m a cat whisperer just like you! Indeed, she was.
Iz had been the only one for the last few days who could get Plume out from under Nathan’s bed. I finally realized why tonight after Plume ran up from the family room into Nathan’s room. Iz then said, “Mom, I’ll get her.”
Iz got down on the floor, and I watched in amazement as pushed herself (her whole self!) under the bed. Hello? She was the only one who could fit under the bed! Just then, Plume went under Nathan’s dresser, and I was able to pick her up and put her on the bed.
At 3:30pm, I found Plume on my bed, which was a huge surprise. It was huge given that her comfort zone was previously only Nathan’s bed. She had traveled, probably miles in scared kitten mileage, to be on my bed.
She was purring and curled up in my yellow vintage sweater. I started to rub her nose from the temple downward to the tip of her nose. Just then, Iz came in and said, “Mommy, that’s just the way you did it when I was a baby.”
As I said once before, I was totally floored when I became pregnant with Iz. It had been 10 years since I had a baby, but somehow, I instinctively knew what to do. As I rocked her, I rubbed her nose, just like I rubbed Plume’s then, and the funny thing was that human or feline, the expected soothing effect was achieved.
When I glanced up, I saw Liam on the bureau, watching Plume’s every move.
After a 15-minute stare down on Liam’s part, he jumped onto the bed, chirped “Bruppp,” leaned over to sniff her nose, but it was not before she leaned out to meet his halfway. And, when he sufficiently sniffed her, he jumped off the bed WITHOUT growling. Plume, not phased at all, promptly fell asleep.
I loved my job as a technical writer. It was always a challenge trying to get the words right to describe why calls failed. But today, it felt like I had succeeded in an even bigger way.
Failed calls were always the result of some tangible issue; however, a cat having difficulty integrating was always a matter of the heart, because I was trying to figure out how to give love and affection to one who could not speak or spew out code to describe the issue.
XML, ISOthisorthatstandard, Dreamweaver, electronics documentation guru, and "understanding the standards and data requirements set forth in the SOW, DIDs, and TMCR" are just a few of the many skills that are important for a tech writer today. Gosh, at the end of the day, I’m proud, above all, that I can make a scared little kitten feel at home after not feeling so for most of her life, never mind the XML! ♥
Hello? Hello? Is there anyone out there? Ah, I didn’t think so. After all, it is Christmas. Okay, maybe a few of my diehard readers are still out there. And to those of you, Merry Christmas! I hope your day was wonderful.
Iz was thrilled with her American Girl doll, Julie, who she toted around most of the day, changing her outfit as much as she changes her own in one day, which is about 5 times. And, as I suspected, the Swim to Me Puppy was hugely motivational when it was time to take a bath.
Nathan particularly loved his Flying Spaghetti monster gospel, car decal, and keychain. The decal and keychain were supposed to be Nathan’s equivalent of the Swim to Me Puppy. He needed no motivation to bathe; however, he did need motivation to get his license. I wonder if they have a Get Your License Puppy?!
We spent the evening with Quinn (Nathan’s Dad and my ex-husband) and his family. Some may think that a bit odd, but it’s the second year of the “tradition.” It can be a tad awkward every now and then. But, it means a lot to Nathan that I’m there, and Nathan always wins out over awkward. And tonight, we had an especially nice time.
I brought a huge platter of cookies. My hours spent in the kitchen yesterday and today churning out butterscotch-chip brownies, chocolate-chip cookies, snicker doodles, and butterscotch cut-outs were rewarded when I saw Adam, Ben (Nathan’s half brothers or as I call them “The Brothers”), and Iz grab cookie after cookie off the plate.
It would seem that I have viewed the world entirely differently this year through my unemployment-colored glasses; and through these glasses, most everything about life, especially my life, has looked so differently.
Oddly, it’s funny when you O the person who is your X upon leaving and realize that perhaps the X part might have been a mistake long ago; however, you will never know, because way back then, you didn’t even make the effort to know. And that regardless, you will always feel like you O him an apology so great for which “sorry” would only be Xceedingly Otiose. ♥
As I was making my lasagna today, I was visited by my Ghost of Christmas Past. I was thinking that I make lasagna every Christmas, and is that odd? My college boyfriend’s family ordered out for Chinese food every Christmas Eve, so I thought to myself, lasagna was too far off the beaten path of Chinese food. Most importantly, it had become my tradition.
When growing up, I didn't think we had any family traditions. Well, my Dad always put the lights on the tree. And, while Santa brought us presents; my Dad also bought us each a present from him. So, I guess there were a few traditions. And, my Mom always made sure everything (presents and food) was just right.
I remember that when my paternal grandfather, Dziadzia, came for Christmas, he’d bring with him a big bag of these greasy blueberries muffins; God, they were so good. His present was always a crisp $20 bill tucked into an envelope from the Webster Savings Bank.
When my maternal grandmother, Granny, arrived, she’d have a paper shopping bag that contained a jar of pickles, a box of Ring Dings, and the latest issue of the National Enquirer. What a combination, huh? My parents didn’t subscribe to the National Enquirer nor did they ever read it; however, when Granny brought it, my siblings and I grabbed it and read every page!
Anyway, I was thinking that next Christmas, I need to start my own tradition, given that all those “traditions” were gone; and sadly, they were gone along with the people who started them. And, I missed them, my Mom, my Dad, and my grandparents. Most importantly, I knew what my tradition would be, because it was also the best gift I think I ever gave anyone.
About four years ago, Iz’s Dad mentioned that his college ROTC advisor, Sergeant Brown, had died. He only found out, because Sergeant Brown’s brother contacted him three months after the fact. He then said over a glass of red wine and a steak in Morton’s in Pittsburgh in July, that he'd really like to know where he was buried.
That Christmas, I had no idea what to get him. He had three interests then; they were Iz, work, and golf. So, I took it upon myself to find Sergeant Brown. Over dinner that night, he mentioned the town where Sergeant Brown was from in Connecticut.
In December, I called the town hall in the town he mentioned. They had a record of a Phil Brown being buried. In turn, they gave me the phone number of the funeral home that been responsible for the services.
I called the funeral home, and at that time, I was beginning to feel a lot like Columbo, which wasn’t so bad given I love the crime shows! The funeral home told me he was buried in the cemetery next to the funeral home.
The Saturday before Christmas, I hired a sitter for Iz. I told Iz’s Dad, John, that his Christmas present was a field trip for which we had to travel, two and a half hours to be exact. He got this look on his face when I told him that at a certain point during the trip, that he must close his eyes. Yes, I think he thought he might end up starring in an episode of “Forensic Files.”
We got into the car, and I drove for 2.5 hours until we reached the funeral home. I panicked, because I didn’t see a cemetery nearby. I drove around the back of the funeral home in frustration, and I just happened to notice a headstone in the thickly wooded area beyond the trees.
There was a paved entry in between a grove of trees. I drove through, and there I saw the well hidden cemetery. I parked, and then I told John to keep his eyes closed and wait.
I jumped out of the car and saw about 200 headstones. I knew I had to go by each and every one to find Phil if he was really in this cemetery. After headstone 72, I came upon it. Sergeant Phil Brown. I gasped when I saw it. It looked as if no one had ever visited it. But, at the same time, it seemed to say, “I’m so glad you’ve come to visit me.”
I went back to the car and opened the passenger side door. I told John to keep his eyes closed. He made some joke about me pushing him into a ditch. (Hmmm. I hadn’t yet thought about that then!)
I took his hand, told him to keep his eyes closed, and I led him to Sergeant Brown’s headstone. When we were in front of it, I said, “Open your eyes now.” He did.
He said, “Oh, my God.” He knelt down, touched the stone with his right hand, and then I saw him get weepy. I said, “I’m going to leave you two alone now.”
I went back to the car, popped the trunk, and I pulled out a Christmas memorial log I’d brought to put at Sergeant Brown’s headstone. I brought it back, and I said, “Here, I thought you might want to leave this.” John put it in front of the headstone. He looked up at me and said, “Thank you.”
Anway, I decided that next year, everyone will have to each give a gift of the heart to another. It will be the gift of yourself, something that cannot be bought, but shows how much you love and care about the person you are giving it to.
Lastly, the holidays are a time we celebrate with family; it’s also a time we miss family, especially family that is not here anymore. My friend, Tunabreath (a.k.a Melissa) told me how much she was missing her sister, Sherrie, this year. I know that feeling well.
For Melissa and I, home is where the heart is. And, because they've never left our hearts, they are always here at home with us embedded deeply in our hearts. ♥
I have all my presents wrapped. I have all my shopping done. I have a clean house. I don’t have cookies yet. (But, that’s why “tomorrow” was invented, right?) I didn’t get to decorate the outside of the house. (Well, unless, the coffee I spilled on the front steps counts for something. It should, because it was spilled out of a Dunkin’ Donuts cup that was decorated with a wreath or something like that on it!) And, finally, I have some time to wear something chic to celebrate!
Wicked Vacuuming Witch of the East Note:
After vacuuming up tons of dirt and washing salt stains off the hardwood floor, I posted this note on the door. They have been warned!
Though, perhaps this would have been more effective.
And, finally, Thunderbolt took a nap on the couch with Plume this evening.
♥♥ Peace on Earth, and good will towards kittens. ♥♥
Blog Soundtrack Note: When I was growing up, we listed to, eek, LPs. We had this pea green record player from Sears. And, come Christmas time, we'd put this album on that record player; it was an album my Dad got at the local gas station for buying so much regular (ah, before the unleaded days) gas. On it, there was Bing singing this. My favorite Xmas songs were by Jose Feliciano, Bing Crosby, and Nat King Cole. Peace
After everyone went off to school this morning, I took Plume out of her “temporary” office and brought her downstairs with me but not before wrapping her up in the fuzziest blanket that Nathan owned. I traveled downstairs, grabbed my cup of spicy eggnog coffee off the counter, and then I plunked myself down on the couch.
It was time for Plume to know what Law & Order was all about. No, I really didn’t want to subject her to that. I only wanted to subject her to some loving one-on-one time in my arms when the house was peaceful.
As I stroked her, she purred and then stretched out her paws, signaling to me that she was totally content in my lap watching Law & Order. (That’s my girl!) Just then, I had a flashback to the last time I knew I was going to have a baby in my house.
It was when I found out that I was pregnant with Iz. I was thinking, “A baby? What do I do with a baby?” I feared that I had forgotten how to be a Mom. Plume kept purring, and as she did, Motherhood, well, it all came back to me.
When I found out I was pregnant with Iz, I was rattled because it had been so long since I had a baby, 10 years to be exact. One day, she was a few months old and crying. She wouldn’t stop crying. I brought her outside on the porch, and she immediately stopped crying. It was like I always knew what to do even if I think I didn’t. Ah, and as it turns out, I think that's Motherhood.
Love
When I got home today, I realized that Monty was ailing in some way. Whenever any of us went to touch his head, he’d move away and even yelp in anticipation of said touch. I called the vet’s, and they could see him tomorrow. I knew he was in pain.
I called back to see if there was anything I could give him. The receptionist said that she’d ask the vet. She put me on hold, and then she came back on the line and asked, “Can you come in right now? If you can, she can see you.” I said, “Yes. I’ll be there in 5 minutes!”
She ran every test she could on him. Everything turned up negative. She could not determine what was ailing him. She gave him a shot of cortisone and a pain killer. He was walking fine, eating, shedding profusely, and barking; he seemed so okay! But yet, he wasn’t.
So, $187.20 later, I will just have to wait it out. I was sent home with two meds (one for pain and one for inflammation). I hate to admit this, but it took me 30 minutes to figure out HOW to open the bottles for his meds!
Once the pills were wrapped in Kraft American cheese, Monty wolfed them down without any protest; I hope he gets better soon. While I complain about how his barking drives me crazy, I do love him dearly.
Understanding
When I arrived home today, I saw that Nathan's progress report had arrived. He dropped a full grade in English and Biology. I was upset; however, instead of calling him and being mad, I texted him and said, “You’ve gone down a grade in English and Biology. Is there anything I can do to help you do better”
My parents would have been all over my case if this had happened to me; in retrospect, given my own upbringing, I felt that today I should reach out with understanding instead of creating a lifetime of misunderstanding.
Then, as I drove around, I thought, “This is the first Christmas where I ever felt like I was missing some Christmas Spirit.” That is, I was behind in wrapping presents, I had baked no cookies yet, and above all, I was so behind in enjoying the season.
As I was driving down Main Street after bringing Monty back from the vet, I realized that in the last week, I had experienced the Christmas Spirit a bit every day. The spirit wasn’t about having a gift for everyone, having all my presents wrapped, nor was it about having decorated the outside of my house.
The Christmas Spirit was with me always; quite simply, it was all about peace, love, and understanding 365 days a year. ♥
Nantucket, Alaska (AP)–Fierce and Psycho Cycling Chick, Inc. announced today the hiring of Plume, a 7-month-old Maine Coon kitten, formerly of Metrowest Animal Awareness Society Inc.
Plume begins her duties as Vice President of Human Relations on Tuesday. Plume brings to this position her love of people and cat toys, her ability to purr loudly, and her persuasiveness (i.e., butting her head against your hand to request more patting). Welcome aboard, Plume! Live long and prospurr. ♥
When we went to pick her up, the shelter organizer had me sign some paperwork and then asked me for my adoption donation of $150. She then said quickly, “It's tax deductible!” I said that was nice to know, and if and when she figured out how I could claim any of my pets as dependents each year to let me know.
Plume has set up her temporary “office” in Nathan’s room, where she’ll stay for a few days until she familiarizes herself with the Employee Manual. I think she’s on the Conduct Chapter now.
Sleeping is required while on the job.
Harassment, especially in the form of purring and lap sitting, is encouraged.
Coughed-up hairballs are expected, though appreciated only when they are left in highly visible areas so they do not unexpectedly meet bare feet.
The meet-and-greet with fellow employees, Thunderbolt and Liam was a mixed bag in that it had them both asking, “Who let this cat out of the bag?” Thunderbolt walked up to Plume, sniffed her nose, and walked off. Liam glared at her, hissed, and then hid under Nathan’s TV stand. I went to pick him up, and he was shaking. Apparently, unlike Monty, the big dog in the little fur coat, Liam is the little scaredy cat in the big fur coat!
Iz has already started to construct Plume’s family tree by asking the following questions: “Who were Plume’s parents?” “Is she Liam’s sister now?” “Can Monty be her brother even if he’s a dog?”
Both Nathan and Iz spent the afternoon in Plume’s office overseeing the New Hire Orientation. I overheard Nathan telling Iz to let Plume go under the bed when she needed too and to be as gentle as possible. When Plume came out, Nathan would put her in Iz’s lap. When I peeked in, Iz was gently stroking Plume and telling her in a whisper, “Everything is going to be okay.”
Oddly, the scene reminded me of something I wrote about my siblings and myself when caring for my father before he died. “In Jack, I see a pragmatic wisdom, and in Julie, as she rubbed my Dad’s head and talked so gently to him, a nurturing compassion that would have made my mother so proud, and in myself, I find a responsible ebullience.” And today, that scene replayed in my head.
For the first time, I saw my children working together to care for something they loved. In Nathan, I saw a pragmatic wisdom and in Iz I saw a nurturing compassion, which made me so proud of both of them. History does indeed repeat itself; and today, I was elated to see some good history repeating itself right before my very eyes.♥
Did I already mention in this blog that I’m not perfect? Oh, yes. I did!
It would seem today that I felt less than perfect, because at around 4pm, it felt like the walls of the house were closing in on me, and I needed to get the hell out. Ever feel like that?
Perhaps it was the few new inches of snow covering the ground, the frigid temperatures, Thunderbolt meowing at me every time I looked at him, or was it an excited pre-Christmas Iz running around the house chasing Liam, causing Monty to bark like a maniac every 10 minutes?
It might have been all that, and it may have been an email from a friend this morning; she was upset, because she was told her unemployment benefits had expired. I called her and told her that she could reapply; it involved a quick phone call and a few tap-taps on the keyboard at the unemployment office. Facing almost a year of not working myself, it made it seem even more so that the walls were closing in.
Previously, I said that I loved visiting New York City, but I don’t think I could ever live there because I would miss the wide open spaces I have at home. Today, it felt like my wide open spaces had suddenly transformed into the back of the Waste Management garbage truck. Yes, I was a bag of trash, and the walls of the truck were slowly squeezing the life out of me.
I began to channel MacGyver, trying to think of how I would get myself out of this situation. Could I wedge my Swiss Army knife in the corner of one walls to prevent it from moving in further? Would it help if I wrapped myself up in duct tape, hoped that no one noticed, and rolled out the front door?
Then the couch said, “Meet the Parents is on. I know how much you like that one. Come here, sit down, take a load off, and staaaaaaaaay a while.” No, no, no! Then Liam ran by and shouted, “Look, I’ll run upstairs, let Iz catch me, and then you make a break for it.” He ran off, and Iz ran after him. Thanks, Liam! I grabbed my laptop, and I headed to a place I hadn’t been in ages, a place where everyone knows my name – the local pub.
In the Summer, I went to this pub every Sunday to write my blog. I’d enter, plop my laptop down on the bar, and then I would order a speckled hen. Funny, but it was the only place where I would ever drink a beer.
I feel funny saying that I go to a pub every now and then, because it seems like such a stereotypical male thing to do. It’s like I’m Norm at Cheers or something like that. Well, no one shouts out my name when I enter the pub, but most at the pub know me, which really is a nice thing.
Tonight, I sat down and ordered my speckled hen. I then plunked my laptop down on the bar as Dearbhla (Derv-la), the bartender, approached. She said, “Oh, I was going to say it’s nice to see you again and where’s your computer, but there it is!”
Every now and then, when I’m on my own, I also go there for a bite to eat. I bring my laptop then, too. (Like me, my laptop doesn’t get out much!) They let me sit forever with my laptop and never hurry me out the door. On one occasion, one of the waitresses walked by and said, “Jean, we know what you’re doing. You’re writing a novel about all of the employees at this pub!”
I said, “No. That’s not it. I have a blog.” She asked, “A what?” When I hear that, I usually just say, “Oh, it’s this thing on the internet where I write stuff.”
After I say that, there are usually no more questions, except when my brother in law, Kevin, asked me how a blog differed from Facebook. I spent a few minutes explaining the differences to him. I think the blank look on his face, a man who I knew was super smart, left me thinking, “Some people get tech, some people don’t.” We are all wired differently.
Tonight, the pub wasn’t that busy. It really was a wide open space when I arrived. It was warm, inviting, and the sounds of CNN, the Green Bay Packers game, and the Irish music provided a soothing soundtrack. Here I am, where everyone knows my name.
After an hour of “space,” I began to miss Thunderbolt’s meow, and Iz asking me yet again, “How does Santa know if I’m naughty or nice?” (And, no. I will never miss the sound of Monty barking!)
I had regained my space by way of a bar and a beer. And, it might not be so important that everyone knew my name there. In the end, it was only important that I had a place, no matter where, in which I could regroup, remember my name, and, most importantly, remember who I was. ♥
Wide Open Spaces That Become Smaller Spaces Can Be Good Sometimes: On my way home from the pub, I went to pick up Chinese take-out for dinner, really good Chinese takeout. The woman who always answers the phone is a lovely young Chinese woman named Ella.
I have been going there long enough to have seen her through her pregnancy and the birth of her beautiful daughter, Angela. Whenever Iz and I have gone in to pick up food, Angela’s always been there in her stroller either laughing and smiling or fast asleep.
Ella doesn’t speak good English, and I don’t speak good Chinese, so communicating has always been an effort between the two of us. But, we’ve always made the effort. Tonight, I asked where Angela was, and Ella said, “She’s sleeping over there.” I went around the corner, saw her fast asleep in her stroller, and she looked beautiful. She was an angel.
When Ella came back out from the kitchen, I said, “She is so beautiful.” (God, I still get baby lust.) Ella smiled. She said, “I need to show you Halloween picture. If have time, I take you up to see them.”
I said, “I’d love to see them. Angela is such a good little girl and just so beautiful.” Ella pressed the palms of her hands together, bowed, and then said, “Thank you. So are you.”
The wide open space between us instantly became a small and loving space. And, as far as I am concerned, the most important spaces are the ones that squeeze people, especially those who are so far apart due to some barrier, together. ♥
Twelve Days of Christmas Note: Since I’m a writer, I can take creative license when it comes to Christmas or any other topic. (Remember, I am not only a writer, but I’m a Goddess, too.) Anyway, I know the Twelve Days of Christmas are technically the 12 days after Christmas even though it seems like they should be the 12 days before; however, I've twisted this, because I really wanted the opportunity to say this today…
♪♫ On the seventh day of Christmas, Hunter Appliance gave to me…one Whirlpool Duet…before dirty laundry could make me fret!♪♫
Yes, today was the day I received my new washing machine!
Well, it wasn’t my present of choice. I did ask the salesman if they could put a red bow on it, because it’s literally what I was getting for Christmas this year. But, if I had to choose between a pair of stilettos, a Hello Kitty toaster, or a bottle of Hermes, I’d definitely choose clean clothes first. Yes, really!
It was a total shock when my other washer, only six years old, began making sounds so loud and obnoxious that I thought a C-130 was flying over the house. Some bearing went, and it would cost $300 to fix it. Hey, they don’t build them like they used to, huh?
In the "olden days," good appliances lasted 15-20 years; however, today, they’re like everything else, becoming useless the day after the warranty expires. If I had been in the basement the day the washer began acting up, I’m sure I would have heard, “This washing machine will self-destruct in five seconds.” The person who sold me the washer neglected to tell me that it had the Mission Impossible feature, wherein my washer would self-destruct after six years and the $600 I spent on it!
Anyway, it’s almost the New Year; thus, the guys from Hunter Appliance did the out-with-the-old-and-in-with-the-new at noon today. When examining my present in the basement, I realized that a lot had changed in washing machine technology in the last six years. Actually, I was overwhelmed, because where I once had 4 wash cycles, I now had nine.
Nine?! Yes, and here they are: Clean Wash – Bleach Only, Delicate – Hand Wash, Normal – Casual (casual?!), Heavy Duty, Whitest Whites, and Sanitary. I asked the delivery guy what “Sanitary” was. He said, “I think it blasts your laundry with wicked hot water the whole time.” My, we’ve come a long way from the beating our dainties on rocks, Baby!
And there was more. I had water temperatures to choose from (super hot, hot, warm, and cold) and spin speeds (high, medium, low, and no spin.) It seemed that now with all these options, I had to spend at least 10 minutes, before throwing in a load, deciding on the cycle, water temperature, and the spin speed. I’m unemployed, but please shoot me if I ever need to think that hard about washing a load of laundry!
Being a technical writer, I always read the manual. I do. Well, I might not read it cover-to-cover; however, I do read the sections that describe the things I need to know that aren’t inherent. I had to laugh when I read the “Washer Safety” section, which said, “Your safety and the safety of others are very important. We have provided many important safety messages in this manual and on your appliance. Always read and obey all safety messages.” Had I bought a washing machine or a taser?!
Under “Important Safety Instructions” I saw “Do not wash articles that have been previously cleaned in, washed in, soaked in, or spotted with gasoline, dry-cleaning solvents, other flammable, or explosive substances as they give off vapors that could ignite or explode.” Jeez, who knew washing clothes could be so deadly? Did you know that?
And, does this mean if my sweater, previously dry–cleaned, got thrown in the washer by accident that I could be pushing up daisies? When you actually read the manual, a washing machine does begin to sound just as dangerous and threatening as a taser!
To add insult to economic injury today, I found out my car needed new snow tires ($300), and my digital camera failed to turn on this afternoon. In addition to the washer, it seemed that this Christmas was all about necessity rather than luxury, which was fine.
When Iz and I were out and about doing some Christmas shopping, we were chatting in the car, and then she blurted out, “Mom, we’re such good friends. You’re my BFF!” Yeah, we’ll see how long that lasts!
Just then, Devo’s “Whip It” played on my “New Wave” CD in the car. I started singing to it, and Iz squealed. She said, “Mom, you’re so funny! You know all the words.”
I had so many fond memories of that song. I can’t remember how many times Bitsy and I danced the night away to it in college after many beers. And, is there anywhere to go dancing anymore and who’s going to take me on New Year’s Eve?! ♥
This Christmas, more than any other, receiving presents seems trivial to me. I’m glad I can give a bit, if that’s all I can give. I think the best present is that I’m here, healthy, am Iz’s BFF, and I have clean clothes! ♥
"The aspects of things that are most important to us are hidden because of their simplicity and familiarity." ~Prof. Ludwig Wittgenstein
I know you are saying to yourself, "How can Jean be going to a company Christmas party when she has no job?" But, I do! Did you forget about the company I created this Summer? And, remember when I took you to work with me one day? Oh, sure you do, because it was the most fun you had all Summer, right?!
Today was Fierce and Psycho Cycling Chick Inc.'s company party. Given the economy, we had to cut some corners. We were going to have it at Waldorf Astoria; however, we had to settle for our corporate office.
Yes, we know it’s just a desk in the corner at the end of a hallway, but believe it or not, this is where all the greatness happens when it's not happening on the rail trail, of course!
Monty and I dressed up. Of course, Thunderbolt and Liam, being cats, came as they were. Cats don’t like to dress up, while you all know that Monty is a big fan of accessorizing! Doesn’t he look like Elf?!
And, here I am in my little black vintage dress. Nothing says "Christmas party" like little black vintage dress!
And, no. The diamonds aren’t real. I had to sell my real ones to finance the company party!
Here are the appetizers. We really splurged on these!
Then we had a bit of holiday entertainment; she wasn’t booked yet and didn't charge a cent. Amazing, huh?!
We had an open bar.
We feasted on a marvelous dinner. Who needs filet mignon when you can have the steak of legumes – lima beans!
After dinner, we exchanged gifts. Of course, we had a spending limit; no one could spend over $0. Trust me; this really brings out the creativity in your employees.
Aw, guys, you shouldn’t have!
How did you know I needed a pencil can?!
I know you love Hello Kitty, Monty.
I will get you the other three socks next year.
That lampshade hat is so you, Liam.
And, you’re right; maroon really brings out the color of your eyes!
No, Thunderbolt. Monty didn’t have an accident on the rug. I thought these would make a fine addition to your pine cone collection.
You don’t have one? Well, now you do! Merry Christmas, fuzzy dude!
And, it wouldn't be a party without some crazy holiday antics like smooching under the mistletoe, would it?!
(By the way, Monty, that wild and crazy Corgi, faxed a picture of his bottom to Queen Elizabeth. And Thunderbolt had a bit too much cream and told me what he really thought of me; he thinks I need to invest more in foreign markets and spend less time in my nightgown and yellow mohair sweater.)
And, as you can see here, we put even our worthless company items to good use as well!
It was really difficult to put together such a phenomenal party with the little we had this year, but we did it, proving that bad times can be ♥♥good times♥♥ with just a little effort.
After I got both Nate and Iz off to school this morning, I arrived home and poured myself a cup of coffee. The sofa growled again, but before it could say anything, I ran upstairs with my coffee, dilly dallied in front of my laptop, and then I put on my running clothes.
Just then, I heard a strange sound coming from Iz’s bedroom. Okay, that’s a lie. I needed any excuse to procrastinate. To avoid looking for a job? Nope. It was to avoid venturing out in the 15 degree weather to make my way to the gym.
I knew Liam was on Iz’s bed. Like clockwork, I knew he was now stretched out at the end of her bed and snoozing in the sun. I may be a tad mad, but there’s nothing better than rubbing the tummy of a fuzzy cat who is semi-comatose, purring, and lying in the sun. I went in, and there he was.
I did my usual Superwoman dive into the bed, making sure my arms enveloped Liam. He looked mildly annoyed for two seconds, then he stretched placing his front paws on my nose and chin. Unfortunately, his claws were out. They weren’t fully out, but they were out enough that I thought, “Ouch.”
I began to rub Liam’s head. The claws began to retract ever so slightly. The purring became louder, and I thought, “I so want to be a cat in the sun today.” But just then Liam said, “Go to the gym!” I asked, “What did you say?” He answered, “The couch and I agreed yesterday that you need to get out more. Go!”
You Have but to Know an Object by Its Proper Name for It to Lose Its Dangerous Magic
Before leaving for the gym, I checked my email. I saw an email from Iz’s teacher, which showed the email addresses of all the parents in Iz’s class. After, perusing them, I realized that for such a dynamic and happenin’ chick, I had a really boring email address. My email address was like most – firstnamelastname@domain.com.
Perhaps, I should run a service that crafts cool email addresses for people. They fill out a survey, and then I send them back an email address that won’t require them to have a 7-digit number after it!
Criteria for the Naughty or Nice List or Is a Do-Over a Possibility?
When I drove Iz to school this morning, she asked if she was on the Naughty or Nice list. I said, “I think you’re on the nice list; however; when I ask you to take a bath or clean up your room and you give me a hard time, you might end up on the Naughty list for a bit.” She cringed and then asked, “Can you get off the Naughty list?” I answered, “If you listen to me, you will always be on the Nice list.” She asked, “So, I can do a do-over?” I answered, “Of course!” I wish Christmas was once a month; it’s the only behavior modification leverage I have all year it seems!
Old Angst Sigh or It’s Not too Soon to Be thinking about Your New Year’s Resolutions
When I arrived home, I logged into my blog. I read a few of the blogs I subscribe to, one of which is “Please Don’t Feed the Models.” Here, I found my New Year’s resolution. I never make them, so this seemed to be more like the anthem for my life than my New Year’s resolution.
Real Athletes Don’t Match and They Sweat!
I finally made it to the gym after 3 hours of procrastination, but it was procrastination well spent.
While at the gym, a local business man’s wife came in. I have to question her work out each time I see her there. She gets on the stationary bike and does 50 rpm, which is something I think I can do in my sleep. And, she wears a totally head-to-toe matching sweat suit; today, it was pure white.
When I got off the treadmill after running 3.4 miles, I was sweating profusely. I saw her sitting there on the bike. She had make up on, her glasses were perched on the end of her nose, and while she “rode,” she read the paper. I suppose she is “exercising,” but not for nothing, you should look like this after exercising and not like you’re ready for a fancy dinner where the invite says, "Matching White Sweatsuits Only."
Whirlpool is Coming to Town or I Always Wanted a Washing Machine for Christmas
If you added a guitar track to this, it might be a good dance song! The Art of the Appliance Deal or Get Some Ovaries and Negotiate
It was obvious to me today that my washing machine was about to die or explode! So, I dropped by the appliance store after Nate and I saw Plume. (She’s a gorgeous kitten!)
I told the salesman that I needed a washer. He asked, “Top loader or front loader?” I said, “I’m unemployed. I’d like it to be cheap, last longer than this one did (6 years!), and a front loader.” He laughed. Why do I always make people laugh?! I pulled out my recommendations from the repair man. He suggested a Fisher-Paykel (I already had their dishwasher and loved it) or the Whirlpool Duet.
He showed me the Fisher-Paykel. It was a top loader, and after the sale price and rebates, it was $500. I really didn’t want a top-loader, and the washer looked cheap. He then said, “Oh,” as he moved toward the door, “I have last year’s model of the Whirlpool Duet. You can have it for $600 cash.” I said, “Well, I don’t have $600 cash on me.” He said, “You can pay with check or credit card.” I said (and I have no idea where this moxie came from), “How about $550?” He looked stunned. I think at that moment that MY years of “Yes, that’s okay,” had boiled up inside me. He shot back, “$575.” I shot back, “$560!” He said, “Okay!”
As we moved toward the register to close the deal, I asked, “And, you will you apply the $40 from the service visit on my washer yesterday to the bill?” He replied, “You’re killing me.” Whether or not he won or I did, in the end, it was so good to make a stand and to have someone respect that stand. ♥
Today’s Quote Which Will Be Going on My Headstone
In addition to these quotes on my headstone…
"The most beautiful people we have known are those who have known defeat, known suffering, known struggle, known loss, and have found their way out of the depths. These persons have an appreciation, a sensitivity and an understanding of life that fills them with compassions, gentleness, and a deep loving concern. Beautiful people do not just happen."
~Elizabeth Kubler-Ross
"...for the growing good of the world is partly dependent on unhistoric acts; and that things are not so ill with you and me as they might have been, is half owing to the number who lived faithfully a hidden life, and rest in unvisited tombs."
~George Eliot
I would like this one, too.
"The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes "Awww!”
~Jack Kerouac
And, yes, at this rate, I will need to be buried under a billboard along Route 2A to accomodate all that text. ♥
My Social Calendar Next Week or Because She Likes to See Her Name in My Blog
I usually don't post intimate details about my social life here. Oh, um, I forgot. Yes I do! Next Tuesday, I am having lunch with Nancy; before lunch, we will go to a vintage store, one which I've never been to before, believe it or not! Anyway, Nancy, Nancy, Nancy! ♥
If they were to ever bring this show back, I’d like to see an episode called “The Perfect Travel Mug.” Yes, seriously! I travel; therefore, I need the perfect travel mug. I’ve had a long struggle with travel mugs, even longer than the job-finding ordeal. I have four travel mugs, and they all stink for various reasons.
How hard could it be to find a good travel mug when there must be thousands of them right at my Internet-connected fingertips, right? For example, check out this travel mug gem (http://www.walmart.com/catalog/product.do?product_id=12350300&sourceid=44444444440153294342); it plugs into your cigarette lighter and even has a temperature gauge. If there’s a mini TV screen on the other side that plays old episodes of Law & Order, I’m putting it on my Christmas list!
I know it seems silly, but I have high standards for my travel mug. It must be microwavable, dribble-proof, fit in my Saab cup holder, and not make my coffee taste like dishwashing soap it was washed with. Thus far, all my travel mugs have failed me miserably.
Here are my first generation travel mugs.
The first reason they all stink is because they’ve got metal on them. I like my coffee hot. Yeah, doesn’t everyone when it’s not iced coffee? No, I like my coffee really hot; that is, I microwave it after it comes out of the coffee pot! Hey, you all knew I was craz…err, different, right?
And, I’m not too terribly familiar with the science behind travel mugs, but is metal the only thing that keeps the coffee hot? Can’t someone come up with something else that will keep coffee just as hot but be microwaveable? Note to the Mad Scientists Reading My Blog: Figure this out in your lab in the basement and get back to me, will you?
The truly annoying thing is that I need my coffee (and travel mug) the most these days when I have to leave the house at 6:30 in the morning to drive Nathan to school; thus, if I really want to use one of these mugs, I have to microwave the coffee in a cup and then pour it into the travel mug; and who needs one extra step at 6:30 when you're half asleep, huh?!
The second reason they all stink is that it seems none of the tops on any of them are easy to put on, and then once you get the top on (or so you think!), well, put on well enough, coffee still comes spilling out from somewhere when you're driving along! Coffee dribbles down your face, down your shirt, and onto your jeans. (When working, it was especially annoying to arrive at work looking like I had a bladder accident!)
The third reason is that none of them are shaped exactly right so that they fit into my little cup holder in the car. "Like one is too skinny, one is too fat, and the other one is too tall or short," said Goldilocks.
Here is the last travel mug I bought, which I thought I think it was the answer to all my travel mug questions.
It was floral (yes, I am a tad bit of a hippy chick), it had no metal, and the top was rubber and fit like a glove! I was so excited. Upon bringing it home, I plopped it on the kitchen counter. Then I opened the top to rinse it out in anticipation of the 6:30am commute to school the next morning.
When I opened the top, I saw a little white piece of paper with a black writing on it inside the cup. I pulled it out, and it read, “Thank you for purchasing your new Lady Jayne Ltd. travel mug!”
I unfolded the little black and white piece of paper; I think it was the smallest user’s guide I had ever seen in my entire technical writing career. And, you can imagine what this little user’s guide meant -- directions! A travel mug with directions? This was turning out to be one complex travel mug.
Lady Jayne Travel Mug User’s Guide
1. “Hand wash.” NO throwing it in the eighth wonder of the modern world – the dishwasher! 2. “Do not put in microwave.” Oh, no! I was back to dumping my coffee in a mug, microwaving it, and then dumping it into the travel mug! 3. “This product is not intended to be spill proof or leak proof." But, but, but, it's a travel mug! It should be all that and MORE!
Needless to say, the Lady Jayne travel mug might as well be a girdle; because it's something I never use!
This morning, when I got up at 6:20 for the 6:30 commute to school, I thought of my brother-in-law, Kevin. Here's one “quirky” thing about him. Whenever he gets coffee at the local coffee shop, he takes extra cups and tops.
When they make coffee at home on the weekends and he has to go to the dump or drop my nephew off somewhere, he pours the coffee from the pot right into one of those cups. My sister laughed as she told me about this; however, I was beginning to think Kevin had the right idea.
This morning, after rising at 6:20 and visiting Dunkin’ Donuts to get Nathan his favorite breakfast (two ham and cheese croissants, no egg!), I had to agree with Kevin after I got my small caramel coffee.
You can microwave it, if needed. It rarely ever leaks. It fits in my cup holder, and I can recycle the paper and/or styrofoam. Sometimes simplicity still reigns even in 2009. ♥
I am a devoted mother of two wonderful children, a writer (technical by day and creative by night), an avid baker and crock pot goddess (♥ Sucra), a runner and a cyclist, a rescuer of pets, a vintage fashionista, and a dispenser of social glue.
