Monday, July 31, 2006


Think back to your childhood for minute. Who did you look up to and want to be like? And how did that person influence you? Look at yourself today. How much are you like that person?

When I was growing up I wanted to be just like my Aunt Beth in every way. She was a loving, giving person who always made you feel like whatever you had to say was the most important thing there was. She was always a lady. She always dressed well and had a natural beauty that she seemed completely comfortable with and oblivious to. If I had to compare her to someone you would recognize I would mention Katherine Hepburn, that level of classy. She had a scatter-brained quality but I suspect that she never missed a trick. I don't remember her having a lot of hobbies or personal interests but she was one hell of a hostess. When her family fell on hard times, she never waivered; she still radiated pride and charm and integrity. It was hard for her to accept advice; I remember her reacting with a "Yes, yes. I know, I know," and then she would promptly walk away and dismiss every word, no matter how well-intentioned.
God bless her, we would make terrible fun of her cooking and meal-planning skills - or rather lack thereof. She would make the craziest combinations of food for a meal. Dinner at her house might consist of spaghetti, baked beans, beets and fresh blueberries. Just really weird stuff like that. But that's how she was, nobody questioned it cause it was Aunt Beth.
She was very traditional. Almost old-fashioned. She wore classic clothes and bought the best. The furniture in her house up until the past few years when she'd become a widow, was the same (expensive) furniture that she and my uncle had furnished their first home with when they got married. And she's got tons of items that belonged to her parents and in-laws alike.
Aunt Beth is definitely a people-person. That is probably the most evident thing about her. I think she lives to socialize. She's the one in the family who knows all the stories about the ancestors. She's the one to circulate information of births and deaths. At the same time she can relate to you every conversation she's had in a day, who went where, what they ate, you name it. But she does it in the most dignified manner, as if she were bestowing information for someone's biography. Whether you care to know it or not. But no one blinks an eye, because it is Aunt Beth. She kind of demands attention in a very subtle way. I daresay I have never seen her sitting quietly in a corner when there are people around.
She's getting older now and not in excellent health but she does ok. She must be close to 80 now but she is still a lady and a damn fine one at that.
There have been times in my life that I've been faced with social situations that left me wondering how to act or react. I can't tell you how many times I relied on my impression of how I thought she might handle the situation. For the most part, I conduct myself as a lady. (In public anyway). I suspect maybe that she had another side to her too, the one she hid from society. I can't imagine the pressure of having to "keep up appearances" as she did. A word comes to mind when I think of how I've viewed her my entire life and that is "genteel" and sort of like my impression of a Southern Belle fluttering her eyelashes to get her way and not one soul realizing that they were being taken in by her charm...
This writing, I'm sure has fallen short of describing the essence of her but I wanted to share a little of her with you. I can only hope to be a bit like her, but am grateful for the example she set for me.

Sunday, July 30, 2006


There is a winery in Napa Valley, California called Roshambo which caters to a young, "hip" crowd. The hosts and hostesses are pink-haired, tattooed, gay/straight, punky- and whatever-looking. The owner claims that there is a certain kind of person who needs this kind of winery, a place to go and feel comfortable while wine-tasting. My experiences in wine-tasting, I guess, have been marred by the seemingly normal-looking and -acting hosts and servers. Damn.
Anyway, each year the Roshambo winery sponsors a Rock/Paper/Scissors Championship.
Which sounds interesting in a quirky way. But what puzzles me is this, and I have not thought aboot this before... There are die-hard participants in the games that claim luck has nothing to do with the winning of the games. They claim to have some sort of psychological edge or skill that enables them to win the games. One guy, a one-time accountant has quit his job and travels around acting as a commentator for these games. He claims to be an expert player. I'm thinking, wtf? Is it the same dynamic as in, say playing poker and being able to read an opponent's face and body language? Is there some sort of psychological intimidation involved? Can the opponent's next move be anticipated somehow? Someone needs to give me some insight here. Is it like tic tac toe? This stuff is all out of my sphere of comprehension.
I know, let's have an online game of Rocks/Paper/Scissors. I'll start and then you all can join in.
Ro! SHAM! Bo! *thrusting out hand* PAPER!. Your turn...
Let's see what can annoy us today...
421. Waking up from a 2-hour nap at 10:18 pm. (That'll do it every time!)

Friday, July 28, 2006

Crazy, busy morning. Poopy to chiropractor. Poopy and me to drugstore, haircut place. I got a trim. Poopy got the Full Monty. I mean, a buzz. The man has only fuzz on his head. When I met him, he had a wonderful head of hair. By the time we got engaged, he had a ponytail. Still wonderful. That came off and I kept him in haircuts for years. Aboot 3 years ago, he decided he wanted to sport a very short do. Conservative and cool in the sense that it didn't make him sweat in the summer and didn't keep him warm in the winter. I could live with it. Only thing, he'd have to get that cut elsewhere. I'm terrified of clippers. Or rather, the end result of a mishap with said clippers. I don't want something of that magnitude on my fragile conscience, thanks anyway. So everytime I would take him for a haircut he would joke to the hairdresser "Shave it off." I never laughed. Not once. I was of the school of thought that if I didn't raise too much of a fuss, he would tire of the game. Silly, stupid, me.
Once again, today came the pronouncement. "Shave it off." As always, haircut lady looked at me for reassurance/horror/whatever. I thought to myself, you know what, the man has been feeling like crap lately. Absolute crap. If he wants his scalp hanging out all over the place, so be it. I said as much. But I wasn't going to watch. I turned as far away as I could and listened to the buzzing of the clippers. When I got my nerve up I looked underneath the swivelly chair and saw huge clumps of hair collecting there on the floor. Too late to turn back now. My eyes travelled upward and I saw this beautiful man sitting in a chair with minimal hair and a big grin.
It's really not that bad. Not bad at all. A happy man is a sight to behold.
Cost of Buzz cut- $5.00 (Really!)
The Resulting Smile- Pricele$$

Thursday, July 27, 2006

FYI: For all you fans of Leonard Cohen who might not know this- New release out this week, a soundtrack, I'm Your Man. Mike, I lied, I tole you I'd check him out. Haven't gotten around to it... Will, one of these days.
Limes, I noticed on your blog profile that you're a Tom Petty fan. His Highway Companion is out this week. The reviews I read sound decent. I read HARP Magazine, the one I bought last week features him on the cover. I haven't read it yet.
And Brad! Paul Weller's Catch Flame is out. I will definitely give that a listen.
Apologies if you'ns already knew all this. Chances are you all knew before I did. I seem to always be a step or two behind my readers. Am used to it. My own fault for writing "up". (Get it???)
I must be nuts. Yesterday I had cashews for breakfast. Today I'm having smoked almonds.
Last night I listened to Death Cab for Cutie all night at work. Must have been all I needed to get me outta the "slump" I was in yesterday. Feeling way better today. This was kind of funny- there's a new guy at work, Jeff. He's probly 20, if that. He was wearing a Huked on Fonix shirt... He was looking at my pile of cds and said, "Hmmn. Death Cab for Cutie? Didn't think you'd be into them." I'll see what I can surprise him with tonight... Maybe I can borrow some Marilyn Manson.
I'm nearly at the end of The Alchemist. It hasn't changed my life yet, but is giving me some thinking material. I kind of got distracted and picked up Sun Signs and am brushing up on my Astrology.
I'm excited to report that, soon I will be welcoming my good friend Dana back to PA from VA. Being that she'll be much closer, we can enjoy the Replacements and Mitch Hedberg in person instead of via emails. She's got really good taste in entertainment. ;-) Although it's a bit beyond me why one would move back to PA after living in VA... (kidding! sorta...) Will be great to see you!
JuJuBee is finding out her baby-to-be's gender today. They're keeping it secret though, until the baby is born in November. I'm taking bets it slips... That reminds me, yesterday Ju informed me that my second Flickr badge shows up in Internet Explorer but not Firefox. Hmmn...
Off to bed. Y'all have a good day for me.
58. The momentary frenzy that ensues the instant that a cashier calls out, "This register is now open."

Wednesday, July 26, 2006


Or two steps forward, one step back? A quote from Oliver Wendell Holmes:

"I find the great thing in this world is not so much where we stand as in what direction we are moving."
Most of the time, I find that I am not even aware of moving forward. Or backward, for that matter. I've never been a great planner. I know where I want to be, I know what I need to do to get there. I just spend so much time completing my everyday responsibilities that there's no time left for the goal-oriented planning and doing. I don't feel like I'm standing still, either, until weeks and months go by and I happen to notice I'm in the same place I was. And yet in a day's time, I (usually) feel like I accomplished something, anyway. Uh-oh, I'm having deja vu. Did I write this same post last year???
So where do I stand? Here. Am I closer to any goals than I was a year ago? Not really. Shit. I am standing still. Sometimes, though, it seems the world is moving so fast, that I am in actuality going backwards. Like when you're sitting in your car and the car beside you starts to back up and for a second you feel like you're moving and you're not. It's unsettling because you know you're stationary and you are tricked into thinking you've moved.
I think many of us spend so much time just maintaining and trying to keep our heads above water that time slips by and we lose track. Guess I'm just feeling a little stagnant today...
315. How nauseating that fifth mozzarella stick or pancake tastes. (I miss Mitch!!!)

Tuesday, July 25, 2006


Yeah, I know I'm capable of picking a more original title. But I'm thinking I'm hungry so it fit.

I was reading a book just now aboot Life's Big Questions and came across one that picqued my interest. "Is there such a thing as a Generation Gap?" What are your thoughts on this? I'm thinking it depends on a lot of things. I have readers on here that range from their early twenties to mid-fifties. Unless I'm missing something, a lot of times we're seeing things pretty much the same way, although I appreciate different opinions (contrary to what Simon will tell you; that being, that if you disagree with me I'll pout like a Jr. High Schooler and throw a fit.) I wonder why it is we all gather here, is it to check out the dynamic of a wide age-range or is it because it doesn't really feel like there is one here? I'm not sure from my perspective but I'm curious how it seems to you. I think we all have a pretty good rapport here and in email that some of us exchange. We talk aboot music more than anything and that's kind of a universal subject that crosses all boundaries including age.
The book's answer mentions two particular things that "bridge the Gap" and they are Love and Laughter. I think we gots plenty o' that too. ;-)
Paradoxical as it may seem, to believe in youth is to look backward; to look forward, we must believe in age. - Dorothy L. Sayers
(Dear Dorothy, what the hell are you talkin' aboot???)

Monday, July 24, 2006

Aboot 20 songs worth. Don't know if I mentioned it or not but a Replacement's Best of was released last week or so. Was I excited? Do I ever get excited? You know the answer to that if you're reading this. "Do You Know Who I Think I Was" is 20 :-) songs worth of smiling. There are even aboot 4 songs from their early punky days that I'd never heard because I'm not really into their punky stuff. The first four songs are okay and then from there they get progressively better. It's almost as if the songs appear in order of my preference. Did I say that right? What I mean is that I like and love each song a little more in the order they play. I still said it wrong, but it's a great cd. Endorphinistically, (and by that I'm assuming that you are like me in the sense that, when I'm listening to good music, my brain secretes pleasure chemicals) this cd builds to a virtual orgasmical crescendo by the last song. I'll have to research a bit but they may be in chronological order. It seems that each song is a little more polished and better- executed. My favorites are on there with the exception of One Wink at a Time, Sixteen Blue and a couple others. The two previously unreleased tracks, Message to the Boys and Pool& Dive are way cool.
I forgot, just a little, how much I love these guys. I'm not going to try to sell you on them. I gave that up awhile back when I realized that few of my friends have really good taste in music. Just Kidding! I swear.
After the awkwardness of that first paragraph, any delusions I'd had aboot a career as a music critic/reviewer went out the window. I'll keep my night job.
161. A sneeze that lingers in your nose, and then absorbs into your forehead.

Sunday, July 23, 2006

Back safe and sound from a lovely visit with the JuJu's. Leaving there is like having a piece of my heart ripped out. They are awesome. BabyJuJu is more adorable and smart every day and LittleJuJu is amazing and getting to be a wonderful little artist. And in a few short months there will be a LittleWeeJuJu to love. JuJubee and PapaJuJu are wonderful hosts in every sense.
It is such a gorgeous day, was a shame to spend the first part on the road and the next few hours in bed. Traffic was pretty tame but I wish all drivers could conceive the concept that, to pass another vehicle, you actually have to attain a higher speed than said vehicle.
Going to sleep now. Wish me sweet dreams.

Thursday, July 20, 2006


Do not pass 5-foot-high oscillating fan programmed on "High" carrying a paper plate laden with Reese's Fucking Toast crumbs.

I have spent a lot of time now and then trying to compose my own personal definition of what it means to be "cool". I use the word frequently and yet have no real explanation for what it means to me. And no, I never pronounce it "kee-yule." *shudders*
Maybe by the end of this post, I'll figure it out.
I'm thinking of things/people I consider cool and the qualities that they exhibit/share. Cool things or people must be original. Fascinating to some degree. There may be some elusive quality that I can't put my finger on but know it appeals to me. Intriguing is a good word.
The first personification of cool that I recall was someone I met once at an amusement park named George. A real aloof-looking guy except that he was intent on staring at me with the most amazing yellow-green eyes I'd ever seen. Ten Cool Points right off the bat. He wore ripped up faded straight-leg jeans before it was even cool to wear them and white hi-top Converses which have always been cool in my book. Five more points. I didn't even know at the time what an Izod shirt was but when I later asked him what the alligator was for, thinking maybe it was a logo for some club or something, he simply said, "It's biting my left tit." (5 points). He was 16 and had already graduated from high school (25 points) and was studying to be a chemist (28 points). He had a mop of bleached blonde curls hanging down to his eyelashes (20 points) and mutton chops. No guys I knew even had sideburns and I didn't know what mutton chops were, except maybe a cut of sheep meat? Aboot 10 more points. Well, after a fascinating conversation (50 points) that ended up with a "Where do you live? I wanna to come see you." he was seriously tipping the Richter Scale in the Cool Department. We exchanged addresses and wrote back and forth for a year or so but never managed to get together because a.) I was too young to drive and b.) his "old man" kept getting drunk and wrecking their effing car. Maybe not original for the world at large, but certainly for me. I didn't know any college students let alone one who's father drank and wrecked the family car on a regular basis. Seemed fascinating to me...
So I guess it's safe to say that ever after that I gauged "cool" against George's point total. I'm guessing he probly is a pretty cool chemist by now. Hopefully he didn't follow in his old man's uncool footsteps.
Maybe there is no definitive definition for me. I'll keep pondering it tho'. What does "COOL" mean to you? And who's the coolest person you know?
119. Biting your cheek on the very same swollen place where you've previously bitten it.

Wednesday, July 19, 2006

... with the number 50. Honest. I know it would appear that way. It seems like every other post I write has something to do with my (okay, I just can't get over it) age. You'll see, when it happens to you. I wish I could explain it but I really, truly, can't.
But this is what I found myself thinking recently...
When I was younger, so much younger than today (what song is that from, Jeff?) I looked at women my age a whole lot differently than I do now. When I got married at 19, my mother and some of her close friends had a bridal shower for me. The topic of conversation at one point during the afternoon threw me for a loop. And I swear, I'll never forget this for a couple of reasons; One, I thought it was entirely inappropriate being that I was in the state of impending betrowal (is that a word?) or betrothal-whatever. And secondly, well, you'll understand when I tell you...
There I was, surrounded by aboot 10 50-ish women. They were "clueing me in" on how to find excuses for getting around having sex with my husband. Really. It was like walking into a bad episode of the Golden Girls (of course it would have had to have been during the season that Blanche was absent, touring with the Rolling Stones). One woman confessed (proudly) that she would "do her nails" at bedtime and use the excuse that her nail polish was still tacky. Another used her period (sorry, crude!) for an excuse and thought her husband wasn't smart enough to notice that it happened several times a month. I'm guessing he caught on early on and didn't question her because, well, what would have been the use??? I went away from that shower with a very definite resolve that I would never make up excuses not to be intimate with my husband. WTF?
I got off the subject. What I want to impart is how I saw "50" then, as opposed to how I see it today. When I was 20, 50 was this- and I'm not including women I knew well like my mom. I pictured women that age as, literally, over-the-hill. Most of their lives were spent. They were pretty much done raising families and spent their days watching soap operas and having their hair done (in an effort, of course, to impress their friends-certainly not men or anything). They probly bowled on Saturday nights for kicks but were home in bed by 11 to get up Sunday morning for church/gossip session with all the other old biddies. They grocery- shopped in polyester pants, sneakers and windbreakers. They were addicted to coffee and Pepsi and never drank or danced except at weddings. They read romance novels by the score and couldn't tell you the difference between global economy and a Tupperware catalog. I guess my point here is that the image I had of women my age back then didn't exactly prepare me for all the great stuff that I'm experiencing now. Yeah, I realize that times have changed. But I also know a shitload of 50-year old women NOW who still act like those women I just described. It stupifies me.
Well, whatever. I just feel fortunate not to be in the mindset that would make me satisfied with that. My life is not what you would call exciting by any means, but I would not ever settle for a life such as that. I hope I'm not sounding judgemental or like I'm better than that. It just makes me sad that people don't make an effort to be more than they are. 'Course one must walk in another's shoes to fully understand that person.
I'm going to bed now. Say "Good night, Linda."
Isn't it Annoying?...
187. That it's no longer acceptable for sailors to skip down the street whistling show tunes.

Tuesday, July 18, 2006


It's times like this, and even when I'm not in a hurry, that I could just grab a freaking sledgehammer and smash the livin' shit outta your ass.
I'm not really pissed. But I bet I had you going for a second there...

280. A tiny dog angrily barking at a huge dog as if it actually could kick it's ass.

Monday, July 17, 2006

Great old David Bowie song that's stuck in my head right now. The reason being, that I had reason this morning (Thank you Feanor) to go back and dig in my archives to help me remember something I'd written "way back when". And something happened to me that I wasn't quite prepared for. My writing has changed. In a big way. I was laughing out loud at some of the things I'd written. And I think that I was insane those weeks when I initially stopped smoking. Really sarcastic. Maybe too wry. But what I'm wondering is this, have you noticed a change? And did you like me better before or now? I don't know, maybe the change was so gradual that you didn't even notice. I was way more intense. Maybe I was trying too hard and after I got regular readers, I slacked off. Or got more confident. Or maybe I'm just not funny anymore!!! (I'm reminded just now how I had to beg all of you to tell me that I was witty not so long ago. Mike B. was the only one who would back me up on that. Come to think of it, he agrees with everything I say... *wink* Love you, Man.)
So tell me, do I make you laugh anymore? Or cry? Or what? Maybe my life has just gotten so routine and predictable that I lost my flair. I'm depressed now. At least you can go back and read my archives. I'm stuck with How I Spent my Summer Vacation and 738 Annoying Things. Don't tell me I have to go back to posting Trivia questions.
438. When the only shameful thing you've ever done shows up first under a Google search of your name.

Sunday, July 16, 2006

...This has been a weird weekend. With the way I slept, the weekend turned out to amount to like four mini-days. Don't think I'll try that again. None of those "days" were long enough to accomplish much of anything. It's been ridiculously warm in the way of outside temperatures so Poopy had been blasting the AC and it feels like I've been holed up in a bunker or something. This is my weekend to get caught up on household chores so that next weekend I can take a guilt-free trip East to visit the JuJu Clan. Looking forward to that in the worst way. I hate that those grandkids are growing up so fast and I'm missing it. And with JuJu pregnant and due in November with Grandchild #3, I'm all the more aware of how fast time is slipping by. It's downright sinful that we spend all winter waiting for summer and when it finally comes, it goes by in a blur.
What's new here? Not much. Poopy is not feeling great. This is always a rough time of year for him, especially when it's hot and humid. I'm not sure if I've ever posted about his health problem. Maybe I'll do that today.
Have you ever heard of Meniere's Disease? Poopy's hit him (and when I say HIT, I mean that it came out of nowhere and knocked him on the ass) three months after we were married in 2000.
Here's how the damn thing works...
In a normal person, the fluid in the inner ear drains continuously. There's all little intricate processes that go on in there that affect your hearing, balance, sinus activity, etc. In a Meniere's patient, the drainage isn't working properly. The fluid in there builds up causing pressure in the endolymphatic sac and affects your hearing, balance, sinus activity, etc. Lots of things increase or decrease that pressure. Things like barometric pressure rising and falling, humidity, salt intake, caffeine consumption, heights, motion, pretty much, you name it. So... What the patient ends up with is constant spells of dizziness, motion sickness, balance issues, pressure and pain in the ears, ear infections, sinus problems, hearing loss (mostly gradual), headaches, changes in appetite, nausea, etc. Those are the everyday symptoms. Once in awhile a Meniere's attack, which usually comes out of nowhere, will manifest itself by causing extreme everything up there plus a possibility of a blackout, profuse sweating, extreme nausea, intestinal issues, and the balance thing pretty much crashes. There is no cure. No one knows exactly what causes the disease. It's been recognized since the 1700's. It's managed (and I use that term loosely) with meds like anti-motion-sickness drugs and histamine injections, etc, etc. It can go into remission.
Poopy has had surgeries whereby a part of the bone that surrounds the fluid sac is removed, thereby relieving some pressure. It's a temporary fix. He's had it done twice with minimal relief. Any surgery of that type runs a high risk of infection and is risky.
At one point an option was to surgically cut the balance nerve on one side with the desired outcome to be that the nerve on the opposite side would become stronger and take over. But in Poopy's case, the Meniere's has spread to the other side making that option no longer possible. To cut either nerve at this point with leave him with no balance whatsoever.
One experimental treatment at this point is to inject antibiotics directly into the endolymphatic sac. Again there is the high risk of infection. The "fix" is temporary and the injections cost $3,500 (last year's price) and are not covered by insurance.
So that's pretty much my husband's disease in a nutshell. Sucks to be him.

Saturday, July 15, 2006

It's 3 am. Just finished a bowl of cantaloupe, bananas and blueberries. Now necessary to negate the healthful benefits of fresh fruit by promptly devouring 2 oatmeal pies...
Those of you who know me will be shocked to know that aboot one hour ago, while it was pouring down rain, thundering AND lightning, yours truly was WHERE??? Sitting on the swing on my back porch. Nuh-uh you say. Uh-HUH. Get outta town you say.
I'm not sure what posessed me. Once in awhile a voice inside me says, "Face your fears." Usually I tell the voice to bite me and go aboot my business. Tonight I said, "You're on. Watch this." It actually wasn't a very bad storm, as storms go. The rain was horrendous, but the lightning was only like a 3 on a 1-10 scale. But still, that was a big deal for me. I wasn't comfortable by any stretch of the imagination, but I did it.
Tonight I was screwing around on BlogThings, was fun. I have some findings to report. In particular, what kind of Soul I am. Interesting...
***You Are a Newborn Soul***

You are tolerant, accepting, and willing to give anyone a chance.On the flip side, you're easy to read and easily influenced by others.You have a fresh perspective on life, and you can be very creative.Noconformist and nontraditional, you've never met anyone who's like you.

Inventive and artistic, you like to be a trendsetter.You have an upbeat spirit and you like almost everything.You make friends easily and often have long standing friendships.Implusive and trusting, you fall in love a little too easily.

Souls you are most compatible with: Bright Star Soul and Dreaming Soul

What Kind of Soul Are You?
Take the quiz and let me know if you're a Bright Star or a Dreaming Soul. We can be Soul Mates. ;-)
I also found a lot of other interesting things, like what my exotic dancer name is. (Vixen? Eeew. *shudders*) And that I am Spiderman. My grandson will bust a bolt when he hears this. "My Nana is Spiderman!" I can hear it now. Maybe we'll just keep this little secret between you and me. Shhh. I kinda fancied myself a little more like Cat Woman...
354. Losing track of time in the diner's restroom and coming out to find everyone huddled under the counter, bound and gagged.

Friday, July 14, 2006

I borrowed this meme from Simon. His answers were way more entertaining than mine. But he'll lie like a dog for a laugh. (wink wink)
~The inevitability of mortality
~The direction Humanity seems to moving toward
~Mitch Hedberg (posthumously)
~Lewis Black
~Marky Mark R.
~Limits (self-imposed or otherwise)
~Management Intellect (oxymoron?)
~Canadians (kidding!)
~A little turquoise glass stone bearing the words, "Dance like no one is watching, Sing like no one is listening, Love like you've never been hurt and Live like it's Heaven on Earth.
~A copy of Internet for Dummies
~A paperweight with a picture of Poopy and Little JuJu inside.
~Listening to Van Morrison's Crazy Love
~Waiting for JuJu to come on line.
~Thinking that one more coffee can't hurt.
~Learn French
~Enjoy lots of grandkids.
~See Poopy healthy again.
~Cross one eye.
~Write backwards and upside down simultaneously.
~Keep a secret.
~A cartwheel.
~Catch up on my To Do List.
~The speed limit.
~"The Rhythm of the Falling Rain"
~Children giggling
~The Replacements
~Potato Salad
~Iced Tea (no sugar. Lemon)
~Coffee (no sugar. Cream)
~Water (no nuthin')
~Leave It To Beaver
~The Little Rascals
~The Ed Sullivan Show
Have a good day. Feel free to do this meme. Simon won't care and neither will I.

Thursday, July 13, 2006

This was pretty cool. I went here and found myself half way down the page. Was kind of weird. Weird like, have you ever been walking through a mall and see a really cool or weird or attractive or frightening or really hot (pick one) person coming toward you, realize it's a mirror and it's YOU??? Anyway, if you go there, aboot not quite a quarter of the way down the page is a picture of my favorite ride, the Himalaya. It's not a great pic, you can't see the actual ride part, but I was glad to see it... It's kind of a cool site. I loved to see some of the old sideshows, the freaky stuff that they got rid of when I was around 6 or 7 years old.
I don't have a direction or a subject for this post. Don't be afraid, it'll be ok. I do really think sometimes. And I am able to make decisions, though not on a regular basis. But I think I can pull this posting thing off without too much trouble. Give me some breathing room and a cup of coffee.
You will not, in all likelyhood, be reading aboot current events or politics or sports. So that narrows it down a bit. I know! Let's talk aboot sects. Nah, I don't know anything aboot sects. Let's talk aboot food. No, we did that yesterday. Let's talk aboot music. OKAY!!! See, that didn't take long.
Who are you listening to lately? I'm waiting to get my new Replacements cd and in the meantime, I'm going through my collection digging out things I haven't played in ages. Last night was Warren Zevon's Best of, Zucchero, ZZ Top Eliminator, and the Verve Pipe. When I go to bed today I think I'll listen to Symphonic Led Zepplin. Hopefully I'll get more enjoyment out of that than I did from the other stuff I listened to at work. Just wasn't in the mood for any of that.
If you'll excuse me, my computer is playing music that I didn't tell it to. Need to go investigate.
It's just playing three notes, like do-re-mi. What the hell.
Have a good day.
83. A bumper sticker reading I'M TOO BLESSED TO BE STRESSED.

Wednesday, July 12, 2006


Simon's comment about food got me to thinkin' aboot all the great food at fairs. I mentioned Cotton Candy and French Waffles already. Have you ever had a French Waffle??? You Must. They are four and a half times better than a Funnel Cake.

When I used to go back home for the entire Fair Week, I would space out all my favorite foods because, mainly, you can't eat it all at one visit. And you have to save things to look forward to. In no particular order, my favorite Fair Foods follow:

  • Those long, greasy, curly french fries with the skins still on, doused with vinegar served in a paper cone
  • Blueberry and/or root beer snow cones
  • Hot sausage on a hard roll slathered in onions and green peppers
  • Barrett's Peanut butter and Marshmallow Fudge
  • The square icecream cones coated with chocolate and peanuts and a cherry on top
  • Fresh-squeezed Lemonade and Orange Julius drinks
  • Bender's Ham and Cheese sandwiches

I worked for Bender's one summer. The owners turned out to be the grandparents of my first-grade, first love, Leslie Bender. Anyway, these sandwiches were the greatest. We used two ordinary pieces of bread, two beautifully thick slices of swiss cheese and then heaped on aboot a half a pound of insanely delicious chipped ham. Unless you are familiar with this area,(Southwestern PA) you may not know what chipped ham is. It is very, very thin sliced ham. It seems to have a taste and texture all it's own. Yummy, especially with swiss cheese.

I know there are probly other foods that I'm forgetting, I'm sure you'll remind me of some more. I was never really into the Candy Apples or Saltwater Taffy, the popcorn was pretty good though. Tell me what you like.

Now I'm all hungry. I'm outta here.


Annoying item for today:

32. Wondering, having applied 20 SPF sunscreen, then a layer of 40 an hour later, whether they average out to a 30, add up to a 60, or if it's only the last layer of 40 that counts.

Tuesday, July 11, 2006


So as not to take up too much of your time here, instead of telling you everything I love aboot fairs and good "fair memories" I've had, I'm just going to tell you aboot one thing. My favorite ride. Ever.
The Himalaya. I get all smiley just thinkin' aboot it. If you've never ridden the Himalaya, it is (if they even exist anymore) a simple ride. There is a hub like a wheel. All the "spokes" have a seat at the end which seats maybe 5 adults, like a large loveseat. They all face in the same direction, one in front of the other. The track is round with several "speed bumps" around the track. Kind of like the Caterpillar but not covered. There is a decent amount of speed involved, so much that I always got the inside seat so as not to get squished by all my larger-boned friends. The centrifugal force was quite impressive on this ride. Aside from the up and down sensation and the hair-blowing involved, there was The Music. The stereo system on this ride was the coolest in the park. One particular summer I remember Ma Belle Amie blasting from the speakers which were maybe 6 feet tall, situated at specific spots on the way around. The whole trick to the fun meter on this ride was to get the carnies to think that you were cute and they would stand at the end of your car and yell at the DJ in the booth what song you wanted to hear and how fast you wanted to go. If they really liked you, they would slip you tickets and you could ride all night for free. Hee hee. Some of our favorite Himalaya music was Rock the Boat, Build Me Up Buttercup, Sugar Sugar, Venus (Shocking Blue, not Bananarama!), Immigrant Song, Rock Me Gently, lots more. OMG, it was so fun. At certain times during the ride, which was longer if you made lots of noise, the lights would go out completely and they would turn on the strobe lights and you would feel like you were blasting off to another planet. Oh, and if the lines weren't too long and the carnies liked you, they'd let you ride again without getting off. Even waiting in line for this ride was fun with the lights and the music. It always drew a crowd later at night when things got really hoppin'. A regular teenager's heaven on earth it was. If I ever win the lottery, I think I'll buy me my very own version.

Sunday, July 09, 2006

Another beautiful morning on my porch to make up for last night. And I just remembered something I noticed last night, did you? The moon was about three quarters, enough that you could see the "face". Now am I nuts (shut up) or does Mr. Moon usually look down on us? Last night it appeared that he was looking up. When I wrote before about that sad and startled look that I see on "his face", nobody commented one way or another. Am I the only one who sees this? It wouldn't be the first time that I perceived something that no one else on the face of the earth saw or felt. So if I'm all alone on this, well, c'est la vie.
I'm in the mood for a carnival. Summer isn't summer without at least one carnival or fair. I need my cotton candy fix. And if I don't get a French Waffle soon, I may curl up and die. There is something aboot the sawdust and the lights on the rides at night and the smells and sounds of a carnival that just make me so damn excited.
The town I grew up in had a huge County Fair every year. When I was small the train would bring the animals (elephants, tigers, etc.) and the bigger rides to town on a Sunday afternoon. Monday night there would be an elaborate parade heralding the arrival of the Fair. I'm talking hours and hours of bands, clowns, firetrucks, Shriners in miniature cars or on motorcycles or just purposefully striding down the street with their sabres. I would get chills from the sounds of the drumbeats or the firetruck sirens. If you yelled just right at the firemen, they would shower you with candy. And there was that rush of adreneline when you would dart out into the street to scoop up that stray piece of caramel. My grandmother's house was on the parade route which was an obvious advantage. We would set up our lawn chairs in front of the house and place our blankets on the curb early in the day to insure a good vantage point for watching. It was great too, because you could race inside to pee and race back out and not miss more than a band or a float. When we were really small, we would take our pajamas to Gram's and bathe and get ready for bed because 9 chances out of 10, by the time the parade was over, some of us would be falling asleep. And parade traffic afterward was always phenomenol. It might take an hour or more to get back home which was in actuality six or seven blocks away. When I got to be in my teens, it was a big deal to go to the park (where the Fair was set up) after the parade. All the firemen from counties all around who were in town (and were probably drunk...) would be there, as well as some of the bands that weren't from high schools which got herded back on the big yellow buses from whence they came. So the park would be crowded as heck and way more fun.
I'm having so much fun writing this that I may follow up later. Don't want to make this post too long. Have a good day :-)
351. When all of your Cracker Jacks have melted into one big Jack.

Saturday, July 08, 2006

BAD NIGHT (or a piece of it anyway...)
I just spent the most annoying ten minutes on my back porch. Just went out for a schmoke. It's dark. That's fine, I like dark. It's buggy. That's not, I hate buggy. The kids from the house behind us are on the trampoline, bouncing and yelling. It's like ree, ree, ree, HAW! HAW! HAW! ree, ree, ree, really annoying when you're liking to have some peace and quiet. There's a graduation party down the street and they're blasting Ozzy or some damn thing. There's someone in the neighborhood throwing horseshoes and every minute or so theres a CLANG. As soon as I sat down a big ol' honking motorcycle started up and blasted me outta my gourd. There's one of those little wee jumping spiders that lives in the door jamb and I walked through a web on my way back inside where it's peaceful... GAH. So much for sitting on my porch...
453. Realizing that strangers watched you trying to push open a door that clearly reads PULL.
I just spent the most delightful hour, waking up on my back porch with a really good cup of coffee, the birds singing, and The Alchemist. Poopy is still asleep and the house is quiet and the sun is streaming in the windows. There is still a coolness in the air but I feel the promise of a warm and sunny day. The lawn was mown yesterday so the sweet smell of the freshly cut grass is still in the air. The clematis is still blooming and my lillies and hydrangea are out. My neighbor recently built a fountain in his yard and I can see it from my swing. It's so pretty and the sound of the rushing water is invigorating. I slept really well last night so I actually feel rested and content. Every morning should be like this...
I'm not even going to include anything annoying here, don't want to ruin the peace and solitude.

Friday, July 07, 2006

...for new kitchen flooring. Thinking of commercial-grade large black and white tiles. Then we can play chess on the kitchen floor. And only half (the white part) will show the dark dirt. And only half (the black tiles) will show the light dirt. I'll be cutting down on the dirt (that shows) by 50%. Wait, that's probly not right. Someone with a mathematical mind, figure this out for me.
While you're at it, tell me how to get to the Firefox that I downloaded and then couldn't find...
I'l have a real post later...
231. Occasionally feeling guilty because your grandmother allows you to live in her house rent-free and you use her basement to manufacture and sell bootlegged movies on DVD.

Thursday, July 06, 2006


...(not a cow) so I tend to do what people tell me when I'm feeling unsure. As in the arena of computers. I downloaded Firefox. Now what??? Shouldn't there be a icon on my desktop or something?
I'll tell you what's annoying allright...
1. Spending half your life trying to figure out something (computers) and knowing you're going to spend the other half still trying to figure it out.
Oh. I put some new vacation pictures in my Flickr box. The top one. All by myself!

I am so freakin' sick and tired of Internet Explorer freezing up on me I could just...
But I won't, this is only a bloody machine and I refuse to let it get the best of me. Dammit.
I never had that problem with my old computer. Is it just me, the asteroid or something else???
While I'm irritated, may I mention the weather we've been having??? You know what. It's pissing me off. The 4th of July did not feel like a holiday. Thank you Mr. Rain. This morning I am not sitting on my porch swing enjoying a summer's morn. Thank you Mr. Fifty-five Degrees.
Enough already.
K, I'm done bitching. When I need to get away in my head, I go back to the Vineyard. Going there now...
I don't think I told you we visited a glass-blowing place. I can't call it a factory cause it was more like a little shoppe. I didn't think I'd enjoy it as much as I did. It was way cool. The tour guide had some of his work on display. They were different-hued glass whales' tails that looked as if they were coming up out of the water, very fluid and simple but beautiful. There are so many techniques to learn and no two pieces are exactly alike. Ok, that was a duh. The guide was cute and I spent more time looking at him than listening... cut me a break.
We visited a Winery too, it started with a C. Something like Chicanery but not. Was interesting. The best part was that I rediscovered Chardonnay. I haven't drunk it for a long time and I think I'm going to start buying some and find my favorite. We tried a raspberry dessert wine that was very good too. I bought some chocolate hazelnut liqueur stuff that I'm going to crack open as soon as I remember to get some icecream.
I went off on my own in Edgartown the day the other girls went to Chappaquiddick. I had no desire to go there. So I went to a library, checked email (shhh...) and checked out some art galleries. There were four I went to that day, my favorite being The Willoughby. I was the only one there except for a man hunched over a PC with tiny glasses perched on his nose. I was lost in the art work, admiring this and wishing I could afford that, when a voice interrupted my reverie. "So is a bovine a pig or a cow?" "Excuse me?" I replied. "A bovine. Is that a cow or a pig?" I replied, "I believe it is a sheep or a cow, but not a pig. I would put my money on the cow." Hmmm.
I went back to my appreciation of art. Soon I was again interrupted. "What's a ruminant?" "It's an animal who chews it's cud." "Are you a farm girl by any chance?" "Ha ha. No I'm not."
That was the initial phase of a delightful conversation I had with the proprietor, Rick Willoughby. He gave me a very personalized narrative of the work and artists displayed in the gallery. He encouraged me to pursue my art and never take my talent for granted.
The Christina Gallery was nice too but stuffy. After a bit I met up with the girls and we did lunch and then the beach for the remainder of the afternoon.
660. Songs that appear on a soundtrack but weren't in the movie.

Wednesday, July 05, 2006

I'M TRYING SOMETHING (adding a photo)

...don't know if it will work or not. But I've spent so much time screwing around with it, now I don't have time to post. So I guess I'll see you tomorrow. Or later tonight if I don't oversleep...

My goodness, it seems to have worked but I don't want it there. But I guess that's where it's going to stay and every line I type forces it to move down a space; so by the time I'm finished, it will not only be where I didn't want it but even farther down the page. Lord, why do I even bother???
Suitable for (?) something...

Speaking of annoying things;

599. Realizing that you're completely ignoring the meaning of the words you're reading and wonder how long you've been doing that.


...I miss my mind the most. I have been searching relentlessly for the card of the photographer I was talking to at the Artisan's Festival at the Vineyard. I have looked in every cranny of every suitcase, two purses, through all my souvenir bags and I can't find his card. I do remember that his name was Michael...
Did I mention that I was walking around the festival, loving it but with a huge lump in my throat? I found myself feeling ridiculously jealous of the artists. They were there, displaying their work, selling their wares so-to-speak. They all looked so proud and content to me. How did my life get so off track? I wanted to be one of them in the worst way.
So I'm looking at this Michael guy's prints. He did lovely pictures of some sea life but mostly flowers, orchids and hydrangea in particular. The colors were extraordinarily vivid, they looked three dimensional. I asked what camera he used, he told me. I asked him where he found his subjects, he told me. I asked him how long he'd been photographing, he told me and I started to cry. Must have alarmed him a bit. He asked if I was ok. Normally I would have said I was fine and all that but I told him no, I was not ok and why. I told him I was a frustrated artist, newly 50 and working at an unsatisfying dead-end job. We talked for awhile. He was very kind and understanding and I got the feeling he'd been where I am. Finally he asked me if I'd ever read the book, The Alchemist. No. I must. And I must not read it once but over and over and make it my bible.
The next day I saw a boat called Alchemy. And later a store by the same name. If you know me at all, you know I am big on signs and I took these as signs from someone, somewhere that I needed to read that damn book. Then I remembered a print that the Michael guy had done and what it looked like, the picture that drew me in to his area. It was similar to a painting that I had done years ago. It was muted shades of teal and aqua and depicted a beautiful iridescent white-gold seashell. I decided I was drawn in for a reason...
So I bought the book and I'm reading it. Every chance I get. And waiting for the miracle.
Now I'm starting to see the down side of 50. I have this overwhelming sense of urgency hanging over my head. The feeling that I need to get busy living the rest of my life in the best way I can and hopefully, happily and as fulfilled as possible. Too much pressure. I don't even know how I got this far sometimes. And now comes the hard part?
I need a nap.

Monday, July 03, 2006


On Sunday of our trip, if I recall, we went to the Grange Hall in West Tisbury to take in the Artisan's Festival. The Grange Hall has some interesting history, I've learned. In 1994 it was rebuilt by volunteers who traveled to New Hampshire and dismantled an historic barn, brought it back to the Panhandle in West Tisbury and reassembled it. I'm guessing that was no small feat, being that getting to the island requires boat or air transportation. Anyway, back to the art part.
There was some fantastic art, some really original things. I learned what Chine Colle' is from an artist named Renata Radcliffe. That means Chinese Collage. But I think it's the French pronunciation... She worked with hand-made papers and inks and fabric. She was too young to be such an accomplished artiste. I was jealous. Very.
I think I fell a little in love with an artist named Ingrid Goff-Maidoff. She was aboot the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen close-up. She had green eyes, just aboot the color of mine, which you don't see often. They looked way better on her. Her face was pale and flawless with a pretty blush of pink across her perfect nose. Her hair was blonde but not terribly, and framed her face with a wispy, curly halo. She had the rest pulled back in a messy knot that looked like she just didn't care. She looked like a watercolor and her voice was just as gentle. Anyway, her work was way cool and I bought a bunch of her stuff. Very intricate, fantasy-like designs with verses she'd written. I loved one of a goddess and the moon that had a really nice poem. I will probly frame that and hang it in my studio for inspiration. One of her designs was accompanied by the words "Tell me, friend, what world do you see through the eyes of your heart?" Nice, huh? She even had a metal lunchbox like I carry. You know, the kind we had in grade school.
Tomorrow I will tell you aboot a couple more of the artists, in particular, one who really made an impact on me. More than Ingrid even...
Going to work now. Yippee. Talk aboot annoying...
246. The average human falls asleep in only 14 minutes. Many people who read this statistic tend to ponder it in bed each night, making it more difficult for them to fall asleep.

...and it seems like they just keep coming. At least I'm off work tomorrow night so that will be a nice break after a Monday work night.

I had an excellent weekend. The drive back to my old hometown was great. I usually stop at a restaurant to stretch my legs called Punxsutawney Phil's. Yeah, that's where the famous Groundhog lives. Well, not in the restaurant. I didn't see him yesterday... but I did get to have lunch next to an Amish family and that was cool. The weather was awesome and I had a really good time at the anniversary party. Saw a lot of people I hadn't seen in eons. I love when that happens. Afterward I went to visit my dear Aunt Beth who I hadn't seen for a long time. Then I hooked up with Kate, my best friend and we spent the evening "wreaking havoc", as usual, and I spent the night at her house.
Saturday night Kate and I went to a place called Mojo's to hear a band called Paper Street from Erie, PA. They were just ok but the bass player was quite cute. Before we went in, I asked the guys at the door "Is there anyone in there over 30?" They said sure. I asked if there was anyone in there over 40. "Um, yeah, probly." I knew it would be a stretch, but I asked if there was anyone over 50 there. It was so funny, one guy cocked his head and said real serious to both of us, "Are you cops?" We all laughed and coughed up the cover charge and went in. A nice big black daisy stamp on my hand made me feel ridiculously teen-aged. Getting carded would have felt better but would have been even more ridiculous.
Yeah, there was one guy there who appeared to be 50-ish. But we had a good time. I probly shouldn't have danced with my knee all banged up but I have no will-power. It hurts today.
I will get back to vacation stories maybe tomorrow. I need to look up the names of some of the places we went. I don't want to mislead you. There were so many places and being that we spent time in all the different towns on the island, it's hard to keep things straight.
Last Friday I printed one hundred and forty six vacation pictures. Whew. And I think flickr will allow me like 6 pictures per month... Will have to pick only the really good ones.
One more thing. I bought a book on vacation. Well, I bought several, actually. If you're wondering why I spent time in a bookstore on vacation the answer is this: I LOVE books and bookstores. I was on vacation to enjoy myself. I enjoy books. Anyway, this book is sooo funny. It's called Don't You Just Hate That? 738 Annoying Things by Scott Cohen. I will be sharing some of my favorite annoying things... For instance:
269. When the button you push on your remote control doesn't respond at first, so you push it again and get channel 33 when you wanted 3.