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Enough About You
Lets talk about me! Memes, lists and posts that are all about me.
Well kids its that time of year again when the 7 Weird Things Meme makes its rounds. I was tagged by Donni...probably because she knows I’m stuffed with weird things. I must admit though that I’m having trouble thinking of any of them right now. So here goes…
THE RULES:
1. Once you are tagged, link back to the person who tagged you.
2. Post THE RULES on your blog.
3. Post 7 weird or random facts about yourself on your blog.
4. Tag 7 people and link to them.
5. Comment on their blog to let them know they have been tagged.
1. I never forward chain emails. I’ve broken so many chains its silly and still no piano has fallen from the sky - go figure. I also wont follow rule number 5, I’m just lazy that way.
2. I’m sick right now, and no, thats not weird considering I spent over a week in a building full of sick people. My comfort food for when I’m sick is a little odd though. It’s not soup or hot tea...its pot roast. Not that I can actually taste it for all the goo, but its what I want.
3. I have really bad ingrown toe nails. If you slid a ruler between the nail and the skin on the side of my toe the ruler would disappear a full 1/4 of an inch. My pedicurist remarks on this all the time. Some day, I’ll get them fixed, but for now I just do a little personal surgery when ever they start to hurt.
4. I’m rather vain of my hair. I’m not saying I’m perfectly coiffed all the time, I’m not, but I cant stand for it to be messed up - unless I’m the one doing it. Don’t touch my hair and don’t roll down the car window when I’ve just spent 20 minutes trying to ‘fix’ my hair - ahem, D!
5. I like the rain. It’s very rare that I will complain about it raining - unless its gonna mess up my hair. A gray day will make me blue, but doesn’t seem to affect me as much if its raining.
6. I talk to myself...whole conversations. Generally with two points of view. It’s sort of like listing the pros and cons of a problem...I just do it out loud.
7. I must get a heart on every swap. I loose sleep over it until its actually time to send it out when I tell myself ‘what ever, they will like it or not, I have no control over it’. Then I loose more sleep waiting for the rating. My first ‘poor’ rating will probably push me over the edge - heh.
Well thats about as weird as I get today...I’m probably impeded by the goo and the desire to sleep for a year. Perhaps when it rolls around again I’ll come up with weirder fodder. 
Yesterday mom returned home. She still feels pretty puny, but is happy to be home where nothing is beeping, or poking, or screaming for its husband. I’m the full length of the condo away and I can hear her snoring away in her bedroom. A little rest, I’m sure, will go a long way. Still, I’ve extended my stay here - I was to leave tomorrow - for an untold number of days. Delta was pretty darn nice about it and waived the $75 change fee, and if I can find the right class of flight home there will be no extra charge. Of course flights to Florida in March can be hard to come by, but I’ll deal with that when I get to it. Hopefully I’ll be buzzing out of here by the end of next week.
The ‘Karmic Question’ post fell flat on its face. Most of you centered on the actual item and not the act....I suspect that is because you wanted mom to be comfortable, and I appreciate that. Actually I was trying to figure out how much of a prude I really am. I was flabbergasted when she suggested just taking it, just as I was flabbergasted when D’s boss filled his doggy-bag with ramekins during a holiday dinner out. My first thought when I encounter something that I want is not “take it” its “I wonder where I can find one of those?”. I can see how small things...hospital pads...hotel towels...might be in a gray area for people. Especially as these business surely budget such losses into their expenses. But not for me...I cant hardly take a free mint as I leave a restaurant because I’m sure I’m missing the 5-cent sign. Evidently ‘prude’ should be my middle name - heh.
I know someone who worries so much that she frequently makes herself sick. Sometimes it’s over things worth worrying about but most times not. If her husband says ‘I’ll see you in a little bit’ she is mildly flipped out in thirty minutes, and totally gone in an hour. Even after he shows up she’ll have an upset stomach. Stress, obviously, is not kind to her.
I can remember doing the same thing to myself once when I was a kid and my dad hadn’t come home yet. He was very late, and my mom was very panicked. The ensuing argument when he did finally arrive home was worse than the worry, and I resolved then and there to keep unnecessary worry to a minimum.
On D’s recent trip to Peoria he failed to call me one night. I thought enough about it to realize he hadn’t called and then let it go and went back to my everyday. In contrast I will lay awake at night wondering if I remembered to lock the truck and unless I get up and check I will not go back to sleep. My night-brain is a much bigger worrier than my day-brain. It ferrets out the most wondrous things to worry about, and if my day-brain tells it to ‘shut up and go to sleep’ night-brain simply inserts those worries into my dreams. The house burns down (I left the iron plugged in), the dog gets hit by a car (I failed to let her in), the truck gets broken into (this happened once, and yes, I forgot to lock the door) and so forth.
Day-brain does some unnecessary worrying too, but where night-brain will chase it in a circle all night, day-brain checks it out and moves on. Worried as I start the car at the gas station that I’ve left the pump nozzle in or the gas cap off? Check the rear view mirror - done. Worried that I might not have locked the front door and I’m already at work? Screw it, that’s what insurance is for – done. Worried the last donut will latch onto my thighs? Eat it - done. Day-brain just doesn’t have time to tote night-brain’s baggage around. Day-brain has stuff to do!
Have I accomplished the childhood promise to reduce unnecessary worry? Night-brain says ‘no’, day-brain say ‘get a grip’!
D and I drove up to Tampa yesterday to have some service done on his car. The waiting room in the Mini Cooper dealership was full (four chairs fill up fast) so we walked over to the adjoining BMW dealership to have a seat in theirs. Both dealership’s are run by the same owner so there were similarities; same chairs, same tv, but the atmospheres were decidedly different. BMW was quiet, almost sterile and populated with carefully dressed folks speaking on cell phones or tapping away at lap tops.
The woman seated nearest to us was clearly agitated that she had to wait. Every ten minutes or so she would get up, walk a few steps toward the service manager’s office and announce ‘I think they’ve forgotten me’. Or, she would stand, directly in front of me, hands on hips and stare out across the waiting room sighing loudly. When I glanced up at her and smiled, she basically ignored me and returned to her chair. Others seemed a little taken aback to see us comfortably seated in their leather chairs reading paperback books, rather than the high fashion, high dollar magazines artfully arranged on the end tables.
I’ve been thinking of replacing my pickup with a sportier SUV. Both the BMW and the Lexus were on my list of ones to consider - the Lexus being my first choice ‘cause I like its looks. But having been in that waiting room, and feeling like ‘poor white trash’ sitting there in my jeans and tennies I’m thinking I’m just not the right caliber of person for that caliber of vehicle. I was by far more comfortable in the Mini Cooper waiting room, drinking my free pop and watching ‘Superman Returns’. If it weren’t for being a homeowner and needing to occasionally haul full sheets of drywall and 500 lbs of tile, we’d probably be a two Cooper family. That, of course, would also be far more likely if there were a dealership closer than two and a half hours away. I wonder if BMW would care that they’ve potentially lost a sale due to their own stuffiness? Probably not.
* The BMW has the prick on the inside.
These days it’s hard to be nice. I don’t mean just because I’m a crusty ‘ol broad, I am, but socially speaking, it’s hard to be nice. A local radio station preformed a not so scientific experiment last week. The female DJ* ‘stranded’ herself beside the road and waited to see if anyone would come to the rescue. She was there for over an hour, and she was purposely unattractive ... guess what? No one stopped. The next day she did it again but this time dressed as ‘hot’ as she could manage. The first car stopped in under six minutes, nine cars stopped in total. All that stopped were married men, and all of them declined to be on the radio for fear their wives would hear. One of them asked her out. In my opinion none of them were being ‘nice’, and the radio station was trying to get the DJ killed.
Being nice risks putting yourself in a unsafe position. I saw “Silence of the Lambs” and I’m that girl ... right down to the broad expanse of creamy white back flesh. For me the scariest part of that movie was when she stopped to help him with that sofa simply because I would have done the exact same thing, cast or no cast. I help folks in the Home Depot parking lot all the time, and I’ve offered help only to have it declined with suspicious shake of the head. The ‘stranger danger’ we have been teaching our children has crept into adult lives. I’m not necessarily against it, but it is a sad comment on humans as a race.
Some weeks ago Tyra interviewed a woman who had been homeless. The woman lamented that when she was on the street passers-by would not even meet her eyes and that they no longer treated her as a human. Then Tyra and the former homeless lady dressed in shabby clothes and went down to skid-row. One of the instructions the lady gave Tyra was ‘not to meet anyone’s eyes because some of these people are dangerous’. Um, hello? It had never occurred to her that people perceived her as possibly dangerous but she had no problem seeing it in the others around her.
I know how she feels. There have been several folks that I’ve wanted to send a little something to as appreciation for their fine blogs. Dan at Chucklehut accepted the offer saying ‘I’d be a fool to expect you to pack up the vanagon and drive out from FL to stalk me - and frankly if you’d really wanted to I think I’ve left enough clues to make finding me pretty easy’**. Others are a somewhat more leery, and hedged giving an address with ‘no thanks needed’ or ‘perhaps another time’. It stings a little to be told that, but I understand the creepy factor that goes hand in hand with such a request. It makes me appreciate those that do accept all the more; they probably still find me slightly creepy but, like Dan, know I’m too far away to do much harm
Dan makes another good point as well; those of us who blog do give away a lot of information. Anyone could ferret out interesting tidbits that wanted to go searching. Long time readers know birth dates and other important life events that some may use as passwords. We share our names, cities and the faces of our children and loved ones all with a blind trust that it really isn’t information that most folks are terribly interested in. But ‘most folks’ isn’t who we should worry about, it’s the odd handful that view the world differently and operate without the basic morals of the vast majority.
Sadly, that handful dictates how the majority reacts. Most of our laws were written for that handful. It wouldn’t occur to me to rob a bank; ok maybe it would, but I’d never go through with it, not because it’s illegal but because its wrong. Simple. But those that see me as a stranger don’t know that and as a basic part of self preservation choose not to assume that I have morals. I can’t say that I blame them. Taking that step and offering a nicety to someone is a baring of the throat for both parties and caution is not unwarranted; a sorry, sad truth indeed.
*I know, I know, I should be using the term ‘radio personality’ but DJ is so much easier to type.
**His exact words, in fact. I kept that email (dated 6/20/05) for his address ... or maybe I am creepy.
Because Rox tagged me and because I heart her here is my response to her 7 Things Meme. Coming on the heels of my 100 (more) things, this was uber tough! If you want the directions see Rox’s entry ... I’m not much of a direction follower when it comes to such things.
-I have a scar in the palm of my right hand that I am particularly attached to because the main character in one of my favorite books carries an almost identical mark.
-I chew ice; dreadful habit, but not one I seem willing to break. I actually get excited if I get a drink with ‘ice pellets’ rather than cubes because they are perfect for chewing.
-I would never have admitted it in school, but I secretly enjoyed doing the research for research papers.
-I like poetry and believe it should be read aloud, with feeling. Robert Frost is a particular favorite. I wait until my only audience is furry and four footed to partake.
-I wont put a bumper sticker on my car. This is a genetic condition that can be traced to my father, who was and still is vehemently opposed to ‘sticking’ anything on a car. In fact I’ve only ever had one and it was a clear sticker to go on the glass (easily removed).
-I like a magazine called “Gothic Beauty”, both for the photo styling and for my fascination with the clothing. Of course, its also nice to be able to stare without being caught. And yes, it gets me odd looks when I’m checking out at Barnes & Noble.
-I inherited from my Grandmother both a copious bosom and the ability to drop food on it. The worst example of this talent I can think of was rolling a buffalo wing down the full length of a bright yellow shirt ... argh!
I haven’t done one of these in a while and figured it was about time. I didn’t worry about duplicates so if you’ve read my first ‘100 Things’ you might recognize a few.
1. I love, love, love makeup ... but I do not touch up during the day. Whatever is left at 5pm has to be good enough.
2. Along the same lines, I am an absolute sucker for those ‘gift with purchase’ offers from the high end cosmetic counters. This is one of the reasons I quit going to the mall.
3. If I find a top or pants that I like I generally buy two.
4. I broke my arm when I was little by falling out of a hayloft. To this date it is the only bone I have broken, though I am no less clumsy.
5. Music is necessary in the car ... so is singing.
6. I will participate in karoke, on two conditions. There must be alcohol involved and the song has to be “These Boots Are Made For Walking”, Nancy Sinatra.
7. I curse like a sailor, and I know how stupid it makes me sound.
8. I believe chocolate is a food group.
9. I am jealous of my dog.
10. I’m not a crying kind of person, but thirty seconds of ‘Homeward Bound’ (or any other sappy movie - or commercial) makes me leak profusely.
11. In school my worst subjects were spelling and math ... not much has changed.
12. I have a group of freckles (moles) on my left arm that look just like the constellation Orion.
13. Bungee jump from a bridge? Only if the bridge is on fire and my ass is catching.
14. I think Paris Hilton is a disease to the young people who admire her.
15. I used to collect certain things, but I’m coming to understand just how unimportant ‘stuff’ really is.
16. I’m not sure I’ll ever get over ‘collecting’ fabric...I am trying though.
17. I was wearing flip flops with jeans long before it was fashionable (I’m still not fashionable).
18. I’m a very light sleeper ... it sucks.
19. I’m very hard on myself but that does not seem to be catalyst enough to affect change.
20. I don’t believe I’m talented (sewing/cooking), I just think I follow directions well.
21. Garnets are my favorite gemstone, but they are not my birth stone.
22. Two different people at two different times have refused to do a Tarot reading for me ... what color do you think my aura is?
23. I don’t currently have any celebrity crushes ... but I appreciate a good body when I see one (Ty Diggs anyone?).
24. I have ‘man hands’. In fact, there is nothing dainty about me.
25. I’ve given up on being able to wear dresses and cute shoes.
26. Forty does not scare me.
27. Dying does.
28. I often describe scents as ‘dark’ or ‘light’. ‘Dark’ ones are generally my favorites.
29. I was often in trouble at school for talking too much. My mouth still gets me in trouble.
30. I cannot fold a fitted sheet.
31. I wear wide shoes.
32. I’m not a big fan of snakes or spiders of a certain size.
33. I’m not easily grossed out.
34. When it comes to t-shirts or knit tops I prefer v-necks.
35. My jeans were always too short when I was in school and I was called ‘highwater’. My jeans are generally too long now. Not because of my ‘highwater’ moniker but because my legs fall in between regular and petite sizes. I opt for too long over too short.
36. I don’t like to run out of certain things, and tend to buy them in bulk.
37. I crack my knuckles.
38. I have exactly two positions I can sleep in.
39. I like to be organized, but once it gets away from me the mess gets pretty big before I set it to rights again.
40. I get pretty testy with men who assume that I’m just a woman and don’t understand the technical thing they are talking about.
41. I believe I am the alpha dog in my house, the dog believes it too but I’m not so sure about D.
42. My ears are pierced – one time in each.
43. I wish I were ‘greener’, I often just forget to try.
44. I’m lazy and I know it so I will go to great lengths to maintain that laziness. For example I knew when I installed a lily pond that I was unlikely to drag out a hose and fill it when needed, so I plumbed a water line from the nearest spigot. All I have to do to fill the pond is turn on the valve.
45. I adore the dappled light found under a shade tree.
46. Halloween is my favorite holiday.
47. I am absurdly proud of the way I pack things to ship them.
48. I’m also absurdly proud of the way I pack a moving van, it is my preferred job when helping someone move.
49. I believe that my only innate talent may be my ability to ‘see’ how things should go together to fit best, without any trial and error.
50. This also means that I never fell for being told, “Its eight inches long”.
51. I don’t like to iron things, therefore I wear a lot of knit.
52. I cant stand it when people use ‘your’ instead of ‘you’re’, and yet I am guilty of using ‘alot’ a lot.
53. When I clean I make boxes and piles of the things that don’t belong in that space.
54. Sometimes it takes me months to return those object to their rightful places.
55. I don’t like my nose.
56. I do like my eyes and lips.
57. I have fallen out of love with hard cover books. I find that a little sad.
58. I drink too much soda.
59. My pinkie toes lay on their sides and the nails grow practically straight up from the nail bed.
60. I scar very easily, and am therefor covered with them. This is probably why wrinkles don’t bother me over much.
61. You can always tell when I’ve been reading; I use phrases like ‘over much’.
62. Credit cards are dangerous things for me. I can justify almost any purchase as necessary.
63. When I was a kid I raised monarch butterflies in the house. Every year they came back to visit.
64. My first real boyfriend told me I looked good driving a pick-up truck. I must have taken it to heart because I’ve always liked them, and my first brand new car was the pick-up I’m now driving.
65. D told me a few weeks ago that he thought I was a better 2-D artist than he was. I was terribly flattered, but I don’t agree with him.
66. I’ve only been in the hospital once, I was 9 and had a hernia. At the time they kept me for a week, nowadays they send you home the same afternoon.
67. When I stated drinking wine I only liked white zinfandel. From there I moved to Chardonnay and other white. These days I’m red zin all the way!
68. Captain Morgan & Coke is my ‘signature drink’.
69. I believe in hurricane preparedness. I have no delusions that the government is going to come and save me.
70. I’m a worrier.
71. I want a fish tank; until I remember what a bear they are to clean.
72. I used to ‘borrow’ kids to go see Disney movies. Now I just go.
73. I hate that I have become ‘cold natured’.
74. When I drive I sit with the seat all the way back and ‘bolt upright’.
75. I am often not a very patient person.
76. I can belch really loudly.
77. I believe there are three kinds of clean: guy clean, girl clean, and company clean.
78. I am guilty of ‘guy clean’.
79. I’m addicted to sugar.
80. I always wanted to be naturally good at something. I’m still looking for what that might be.
81. Because of that I know a little about a lot of things.
82. I was a know-it-all as a child. I fear that I still come across as one.
83. I can’t stand know-it-alls.
84. Where I was born Pepsi was the primary soft-drink, but where I grew up it was Coke. I prefer Coke.
85. I was convinced that I would die in an auto accident and didn’t learn to drive ‘till I was 17 years old.
86. When D buys me flowers he buys his favorite kind. This irks me.
87. There are businesses that I dislike so much I will go out of my way to not give them any of my money. WalMart and Citibank are two.
88. I have little red ‘freckles’ on my fingertips and my face that are called Telangiectasia. I don’t like them.
89. I don’t like people to touch my hair. When D does this I pant at him like a dog.
90. I cannot roll my tongue.
91. I believe I pay more attention to what’s going on around me than most. Therefor I also believe I’d be a good crime scene investigator ... but then so does everyone that watches CSI.
92. If a blog lists a ‘100 Things’ link, it’s the first thing I read.
93. When I type I ‘spell’ the words in my head.
94. I use my fingers when I do mental math, but not obviously. I lay them on a table and increase the pressure to each tip as I count.
95. ‘Measure twice, cut once’ often does not work for me. Its more like measure nine times and curse anyway.
96. I wanted to take shop in Jr. High, but girls had to take Home Economics, where we learned to sew. I hated sewing, and was really, really bad at it.
97. I was in love with my third grade teacher, and hated the woman who took her place when she left on maternity leave. My grades at that time reflect this fact very clearly.
98. I don’t like ‘stretch’ jeans ... give me old fashioned ‘rigid’ denim every time.
99. I can back a trailer, but only when I can see it over my shoulder. I cannot do it using only mirrors, my brain simply can’t sort it out.
100. If you made it to the end you deserve a prize. So, leave me a comment and I’ll draw a winner at random from those names.
Friday afternoon the lung doc for my grandpa told one of my uncles that we should have a family meeting and decide if g’pa would want to be dependant on the respirator. This was the first time anyone had even suggested that the respirator was in place for anything other than to let him heal. We were stunned, but I think we were mostly angry and felt as though we had been misled. As has been standard the call to his regular doc was not returned – he was off for the weekend.
Oddly, I was pretty peppy Friday night. I had a new stereo installed in my truck (nothing fancy but it has a direct connection for my iPod) I had a quick dinner out and picked up D at the airport. I was happy to see him and had aspirations of carving a little ‘us time’ out of the weekend. By Saturday morning though a funk had descended over me and I took myself to town where I scoured several fabric shops for things to coordinate with the Japanese fabrics* I received last week. I had lunch at a favorite spot, and took pleasure in a tiny bird that knew exactly what my bread basket was and perched there expectantly. I went to the tile store, in preparation for the great bath remodel we plan in a few weeks, but was more frustrated than encouraged. Somewhere on the way home it occurred to me what was going on. I was hiding.
Had I been home someone could find me with bad news I just didn’t want to hear, and I might have to examine my feelings; much easier to smother them with new toys and good food. Realizing what I was up to lifted the funk a little, but the overall feeling persisted throughout the weekend. Even multiple e-mails with Jae, and an online chat with Rox and some quiet time sewing couldn’t lift it entirely.
Being emotionally bereft isn’t a new thing around here. My mom would say it is genetic for this side of the family, and she wouldn’t be entirely wrong. I disagree with her though that it makes us ‘less human’. I think everyone handles things to the best of their ability. Doing so differently does not mean someone is doing it wrong. Still, for me at least, something needs to change. A distraction is only a distraction, it is not the balm I so badly want. Admittedly, I haven’t the first clue where to begin or even what should be done. I’m floundering, and that is perhaps what I find the most unsettling.
*I learned a valuable lesson, the colors of the imported items are stellar, but in no way match those available through local venues ... rendering a rather expensive purchase more frustrating than pleasant.
When I was young people always told me how ‘adult’ I seemed, or ‘how happy I was going to make some man someday’ and at the time comments like that never failed to make me swell with pride. Of course in my twenties those same statements would stand my hair on end and turn my eyes green*. Now, nearly out of my thirties, I realize how ‘grown up’ I haven’t been, ever. Lately the life lessons seem to be coming at me from every corner, things I should have known or understood years ago. Some very basic, some very complex.
I’ve always thought that being single and childless at thirty, and thirty five, and now almost forty has played a big role in my extended adolescence. I haven’t experienced those responsibilities and therefore haven’t grown in that particular manner. Sure I have a mortgage and credit card bills, I hold down a job and make a car payment; I’ve been acting the adult for more than a few years. But as it turns out it wasn’t being single and childless that was retarding my maturity, it was loss. I hadn’t experienced loss.
There have been deaths in my family, of course, but they were all distant. Great grandmothers, great aunts and uncles; people that had seemed old and frail from the time I first met them. I even had a friend who killed herself. Once we were inseparable, but by the time she committed the act we were many years and many miles apart. Even the news, when it came, was six months old. At the time it bothered me that I couldn’t seem to cry for her, I remember only being angry that she’d chosen to be so stupid.
In 2005, on the day before my birthday, my grandmother died, we had about four days notice. In 2006 my aunt passed away after six terrible weeks, and a week later my grandfather died. Three very different deaths; my grandmother’s was unexpected but acceptable in time, my grandfather’s a sad blessing and my aunt’s an outright tragedy and perhaps the greatest loss. Three very different griefs and three very different senses of loss. I got a crash course in ‘growing up’ and though painful I cannot say I’d change who it has made me today.
Sure, I’m a little more dour and far too aware of my own mortality as well as that of those I love. But I am also happier than I’ve been in a long time because I’m taking time for myself and not sweating the small stuff - as much. I’ve gained the ability to ‘shrug-off’ folks that aren’t acting like true friends, and I accept them for what they are - acquaintances. My ego is still bruiseable, my failed journal foray as an example, but there too I just made my own contribution and moved on to the next project. My skin has thickened, something that has needed to happen for years. Perhaps strangest of all is a pervasive feeling of wisdom. “Older and wiser” has taken on a true meaning and I believe I am better for it, forty does not bother me (though you may want to remind me of that in about eleven months). I’ve no idea what 2007 holds, and I’ll make no predictions because I know good or bad I am strong enough to take it and learn from it whatever may come.
*My eyes go a little green when I’m really ticked off.
I spent much of yesterday trying to find the floor of my sewing room; it was possibly worse than the last time I went looking for it. Normally it is a pleasurable experience digging through my stash like a miser through gold. But yesterday was different. When I have a project in mind I select the fabrics for it and group them in a little pile. There were piles in the chair, piles on the cutting table, piles on the ironing board, and each time I opened a box to store these piles I found other groups of fabric earmarked for other projects still undone. Yesterday my fabric no longer felt like riches, rather it represented unkempt promises. Promises I made to on line acquaintances, friends, family, and worst of all, to my self.
So as I put each little pile in its box I started a list of all those un-kept promises:
bags for Greenie, Kim, Jan, and Rox, a rag doll for an online friend’s daughter, my brother’s quilt, D’s Celtic quilt, a tool roll, curtains and a throw for the house, secret projects, known project, too many projects. And as I was making the list I glanced upward, thinking, and realized that I had never finished painting my craft room, or the bathroom or the kitchen or the laundry room. And I added those things to my list. Still thinking, I remembered drywall carefully stored in the garage to patch the hole we made when replacing the hot water heater – undone. Electrical outlets uninstalled, light switches uninstalled, and on, and on, and on.
I didn’t name this blog Unfinished Object for nothing!
2006 was a tough year, my family lost a lot…I lost a lot. And when I worry about the big things in life it is inevitable that I eventually worry about this long list of un-kept promises. I have not only hurt friends, I am hurting my self by creating worry and denying myself the satisfaction of finishing what I’ve started. And I am hurting D by creating a home that is perpetually un-kept, half finished and in turmoil. Dieting – undone, exercise – undone, personal changes – undone. I couldn’t stand Susan Powter, but her trademark line fits … STOP THE INSANITY!
Much as I dubbed Christmas as the ‘Dust Free Christmas’ I am dubbing 2007 as the ‘Year of the Finishing’ and I am declaring a moratorium on all new projects, (barring emergencies of course). As I encounter things that I don’t yet have on my unfinished list they will be added. I will work through the list, with the goal of finishing one small project each week and one large one each month. This is my personal challenge for 2007.
My first sewing project will be the journals for the James Kim auction, as they have a deadline, which I hope to have posted this evening. And the first home project will be to put away Christmas, and sort a box of decorations to go to Goodwill. Last year I challenged myself to reduce the clutter, and the habit has stuck. If a pack rat as large as I can build a change in what I save and what I clear out, surely I can learn how to finish what I start in a timely fashion. Wish me luck.
Annie, knowing I’m odder than most, tagged me with the “Six Weird Things About Me” meme. So first, the rules:
Each player of this game starts with the weird things about you. People who get tagged need to write a blog of their own 6 weird things as well as state this rule clearly. In the end, you need to choose 6 people to be tagged and list their names. Don’t forget to leave a comment that says you are tagged in their comments and tell them to read your blog.
And now, weird things:
1. I break meme rules, and email rules, and chain letter rules....
I like answering meme’s but I generally don’t forward them on, or invite specific people to participate. You won’t be finding a comment on your blog asking you to play along with this one, I’ll just give a general invitation to all who are interested. I also don’t return those well wishing emails that tell you to forward them to all your friends and back to the person that sent them. I’m not scared to break a chain letter and I rarely forward anything. It has to be really, really funny (interesting, etc) for me to send it on.
2. I love cold General Tso’s Chicken for breakfast.
3. I have my own set of ‘internet’ rules. I don’t expect anyone else to follow them, they apply only to myself. They include things like: always replying to comments, posting about swap item as soon as I receive them, and avoiding digging too deeply into topics like work and family relationships.
4. I like to cook, and I am good at tweaking a recipe, but I would never say I’m a good cook. People who cook well are inventive, and creative ... I’m just good at following directions. I feel the same way about my sewing.
5. I hate to be interrupted during the last bite anything. I often save the best for last and I want to enjoy it ... don’t bug me when I’m eating chocolate.
6. When its cold outside, or I’m stressed my hands do this:
Evidently my personal hygiene has been somewhat lacking of late because this birthday was jam-packed with gifts to make me smell better, feel softer or have less hair. It started with Rox’s early gift of an Elizabeth Arden Green Tea set, which included perfume, lotion and shower gel. Then D came through with not one, but four separate spa visits; one haircut/style, one facial which includes a somewhat concerning ‘decollete massage’ and ‘hair removal’, one mini pedicure, and one back facial and hand massage. Not to be outdone, my mom gave me practically the entire Origins ‘ginger’ line. Really. There’s a Christmas gift box containing body souffle, essence of ginger, bubble bath, body scrub, body wash and a bath mitt. And since that wasn’t enough ginger there is a second box containing a ginger candle, shampoo, perfume and massage oil.
Rox’s gift is great, no complaints there. And mom’s also is fine, though I may swap a few of the gingers out for other scents, because it really is a lot of ginger. But, at the risk of sounding ungrateful let me explain D’s spa package. He purchased it from a door-to-door salesman for a spa I’ve never heard of. Each visit proudly includes a complimentary beverage (snigger) and a coupon for a discount ‘bonus’ feature; for example if you want the pedicure visit to actually include a full pedicure all you have to do is slip them a $20. And the description of each visit includes a free consultation (skin, hair, color etc) which screams to me ‘we’re gonna strong arm you to buy lots of product you done need’. Sigh, a spa visit just isn’t as relaxing when your cosmetologist is moonlighting as a used car salesman. I’m sure it will be ok, no green hair or anything, but how do I discourage a purchase like this in the future without discouraging all spa purchases? And before you say ‘suggest a specific spa to him’ you should know that I did, but the hot chick in the short skirt who was selling the certificates caused a bit of amnesia - heh.
I took a spill yesterday, nothing serious but still no fun. My mother’s has a home business as caretaker of many homes and condos owned by seasonal residents. As she is still in KC, helping my grandmother, I put on my caretaker hat and made the rounds. One of the things-to-do on my list was turn the water off at her condo. Which I did. But when I double checked it I found that it had not completely turned off so I went back to tighten the valve, which is located on a wall behind lots of shrubs and a bougainvillaea (read - thorny shrub). My first trip to the valve got me a little raked up from the thorns so on my second trip I thought I’d try it from the other direction, hopefully putting me in less contact with the biting shrub. What I didn’t see was the two foot deep hole that I stepped directly in, and grace that I am sprawled full length in, behind, and all over the thorny bush. I look a little like I was on the losing end of a cat fight as I am covered in fine, bloody scratches. I skinned both knees, banged my head on the wall, damaged one of those ugly spots on my legs (very easy to do) and twisted my ankle. Of course I jumped up really fast and hid in my truck lest anyone witness the spectacle of my clumsiness. Last night, getting ready for bed, I made a closer inspection of several bloody spots on one leg that I thought were just scrapes. They were actually thorns, firmly planted in my skin, so I spent twenty minutes or so with a pair of tweezers setting them free. There is still one in my knee, that I’m embarrassed to say I may have to go see my doctor and have him remove it, I just cant get a hold on the thing. As for my ankle, I can get around, my gait looks a little like Quasimodo’s, but then again I never had a runway walk so maybe it’s not so bad.
D and I went to dinner last night, and then a movie. This morning my dad came into the office and asked if I wanted to drive his car – duh! – and we (I) drove around for about an hour (I know one person who just swooned with jealousy) and he made my day by telling me I had now driven it longer than anyone else, besides him. Its been a good two days.
We (and my family) go about our daily lives, we work, we play, we laugh and we worry. The adage is that ‘life goes on’ and it does, but these are strange days when the thrill of driving a dream car is balanced against a doctor saying that someone you love will never leave ICU. Strange days indeed…
Here are the rules:
1. Grab the nearest book.
2. Open the book to page 123.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the text of the next 4 sentences on your Blog along with these instructions.
5. Don’t you dare dig for that “cool” or “intellectual” book in your closet! I know you were thinking about it! Just pick up whatever is closest.
6. Tag five people
And here is my response:
Nearest book, Royal Assassin by Robin Hobb
And from page 123, starting at the fifth sentence:
… Verity’s was for the detail of agreements,the precise maps that delineated agreed borders, and the supporting of his brother in his authority both as a soldier and as a prince.
Prince Regal, youngest of Shrewd’s sons and his only child with Queen Desire, spent his youth at home at court, where his mother made every effort to groom him as a candidate for the throne.
I traveled home to Buckkeep with a sense of relief. It was not the first time I had preformed such a task for the king, but I had never developed a relish for my work as an assassin.
Now I’m supposed to tag five folks, but since I just did a meme, and so may nice folks played along, I’m just going to invite anyone who wants to give it a go, and call it a day. Enjoy!