Happy New Year

I started this blog last January with the intent of blogging everyday.  I noticed that with this post I will bring the grand total of "daily" blogging to 200.

Not too shabby I say!  Better than half, give or take 55 percent.  

So now the question for 2009 is, do I aim higher, keep it status quo (as in blogging whenever I feel like it) or stop blogging altogether?

I am so not into New Year resolutions, so I'm not really going to make any rash decisions right now.  I do like to use the start of a New Year as a starting point -- easier to keep track of things, like a year's worth of blogging or a year-in-the-life of taking daily pictures, but I stopped the picture thing a month or so ago ... I just stopped and that was that.  One might think that I was in the home stretch and could pat myself on the back tomorrow and say that I'd done it.  But I did do it.  I took over 300 pictures of myself, I carried a camera around with me EVERY DAY and chronicled my life.

And you know what?  It's a pretty active and exciting life.  I spend a lot of time on the ski slopes, in the woods hiking, I travel a lot ... it's all good.

So really the ONLY reason I am posting this blog today is to have a nice round number of 200.  I am not in a reflective mood, I don't want to do the Best and Worst of 2008 (though that might be fun!)  I just want to check in (to make 200) and then well, I can say I posted 200 times in the year 2008.  Not that that is important, mind you.  No big deal.  TWO HUNDRED TIMES BABY.  Seriously, no big deal.

Two hundred is better than 100!  Not that it matters, of course, to those of you bloggers who didn't reach TWO HUNDRED.  Not a contest.

200 200 200 200 200 200 200 200 200 200 200.

HAPPY NEW YEAR (like 200 times!)

Running here and running there

I am all over the place.  It's not that I can't focus -- because believe me, I can.  I can sit down and start writing in the morning and the next thing I know it is dark out.

I know this because I have done it before.  Many times.

I can immerse myself in many things and lose all concept of time.  They call this being "in the flow," and this girl can flow, let me tell you.

But unless I am completely engaged, I tend to be all over the place.  Like this morning.

I have this really strong need to know all I can about alternative foods, supplements, etc. so that ultimately I will know what everything I put inside my body does for me (or doesn't, as the case may be.)  This would seem fairly simple, but I can't just read something that says "this is awesome for you so take it everyday," and be happy.

Oh no.

I have been taking this supplement called MSM.  I ran across it because in my role as Maddie's supervisor in making her feel all that she can be through eating properly, I was looking for something that would help her with her knee.  She tore her ACL last year and while it has been repaired, it still aches after she excercises, etc.  So I came across MSM, which provides sulfur, which is a building block of joints and cartilage and can help athletes.

But it also said it did a whole slew of other things, so I started popping them.  And you have to take lots of them, twice a day.  But people then ask, what does it do?

Well, lots of things.  I just know it is good.

But do I?

So this morning I decided to find out all that I could about MSM.  I mean, ALL that I can.  And I have been reading both positive and negative information on it, and scribbling away in my notebook and definitely reinforcing my feelings that this is definitely more helpful than harmful, when out of the blue I thought, "I know, I would like to Photoshop the picture of all of us on the bed against the background of the ocean view."

So ... I put down my pen, picked up a picture I'd printed off of these various shots and started playing with them, trying to envision how to Photoshop them together.  Since I haven't put any time into actually LEARNING Photoshop, I didn't even begin to play with it that way.  But are you kidding me?  I was doing something!  

Which in turn led me to blogging about my inability to finish a task before moving on to another!

Crazy.

So now I am sitting here, examining all the things I was doing, should be doing and am doing, and have decided I am hungry and need something to eat.

Or not.

Lighting a fire under my Kindle

The Kindle is not my first ebook reader.  Oh so many years ago when my job was to track down all the latest and greatest technology, I came across a company that wrote the software to convert books to several reader's of the time -- one of them being the Rocket ebook.  I had to have one.

Rocket eBook - Gemstar eBook Group Limited - Planet eBook If you are the least bit interested, you can read the short history of the Rocket, which seemed like it was going to shoot into the world with a great burst of promise.  I spent a lot of money on it a lot of years ago -- because I believed.  I don't think I was ever able to purchase anything current -- though I remained hopeful that one day it would catch on.  And you can still purchase the next generation of the Rocket -- but I can't seem to track down much in the way of content that would be appealing to the masses.

Which is why I decided that a reader attached to Amazon.com might just make it!  It's not for everyone -- and it is surely for the devoted reader who needs a book YESTERDAY because they just have to, no questions asked.  And I was happy as a little clam reading my book when I finished it and wondered if I could give the $10 book I'd purchased yesterday to my daughter, who also received a Kindle for Christmas.

And the only way you can share books is to have the same account.  And right now we have separate accounts.  And I'm not too sure I want the same one because that means it has to go on one credit card ... and gee, I wonder whose that would be!  But we'll have to do that, if we still can (we have both registered our Kindles to our accounts, I haven't figured out if we can change hers yet) because isn't sharing books what you're supposed to do?  I read awfully fast and I would hate to think that only **I ** will be the only one reaping the pleasures of a book, no matter what the medium.

I did an Internet search hoping that someone had figured out a way around this blasphemy, but to no avail.  It appears that avid readers are not necessarily evil hackers.  Harumph.

I had to laugh when last night my father was saying that these ebooks would put printed books out of business.  I tried to explain that these "ebooks" have been around for years -- like ten plus years -- and I hardly believe that our rising unemployment rate is due to a lack of book printing.  They are just like phones -- how many people still have land line phones in their homes on top of every family member owning a cell phone?

Exactly.  We hold on to old technology like the dickens -- we are suspect of it -- we expect it to fail the moment we trust it.  I discarded ebook technology for years and years because it did fail me.  I was sick of reading third-rate novels that were the only thing available (along with the Classics, but come on, how many Classics can you read in a given year?) and so I returned to printed books without a second glance.

But I love technology -- I always have.  The Kindle is the same technology as the Rocket, only slightly improved.  And truly, it's only slightly.  The print is better, but I must admit I miss the backlight of my Rocket ereader which allowed me to read in bed with no lights.  True, it is like reading a computer screen, but I only did it occasionally.  What the Rocket lacked at the time was a behemoth like Amazon to back it up: and that is the ONLY reason I am back in the ebook saddle.

But I am ticked off by this lack of book sharing and I am highly suspect of their small teeny tiny print that says that while their Whispernet technology is free today and maybe tomorrow, they can begin charging for it any time they damn wish.      

Which we all knows means as soon as they have enough people on board.  ::::::::heavy sigh:::::::

My father has the Sony eReader and that seems to have a better design -- the buttons to lead you here and there are smaller so you don't keep hitting them by accident -- which I have done countless times with the Kindle.  But the con on that one is that it doesn't have the ability to download books on its own -- it must be hooked to a computer.  Which, as we discovered last night, is easier said than done because his Norton Security kept blocking the site and I had to disarm that, but couldn't do it permanently without uninstalling it, which was a whole HELL OF A LOT MORE HASSLE THAN I FELT LIKE DEALING with, because I was at my sister's for dinner.  Not a pain in the ass fix another Bill Gates headache.  (I blame everything on Bill Gates, because he is a pain in my ass and always has been!)

Oh, the columns I used to write ranting and writing about how he ruined EVERYTHING.   I should write a column on what our world would be like without Bill Gates.  I'll tell you this, computers would work for the people, instead of for his moronic machine.  Windows schmindows -- piece of crap, always was, always has been.

But I digress. 

 ::::::::::::::::deep cleansing breathes, visualizing no Bill Gates in this Universe::::::::::::::::::::::::

And so ...  an old technology peeks out from behind the shroud of obscurity and thanks to Ms. Oprah, the whole world wants a Kindle and the Power of the O strikes again.  

Whatever.

I just want to hand off the book I just read to my daughter.

Does everything have to be so ... proprietary?  I bought the damn book, it is MINE, and now I should be allowed to share it.

Don't you agree?

Driving to the city ... in a blizzard. So?

I am not sure what good a glue gun would have done for my loooooooooooooooooooong drive to NYC on Sunday morning, but Wowsa is all I can say.

Now, let me preface this by saying that I understand that it is not normal to jump into your car amidst rapidly falling snowflakes and countless television warnings about a Nor'easter, and begin a five hour drive.

But ... we had pre-paid tickets to a broadway show and well, how bad could it be?

It was just so slow -- and it's hard to remain "on" like that for hours on end -- and instead of driving out of the weather, we were really driving into it.  It was headed in the direction we were coming from, but it had already begun in earnest, so there was no free ride at all.  Just snow-covered roads followed by slush-covered roads followed by ice-coated roads and at last ... in Connecticut it ended with rain.  

The scariest part was knowing that if I had to step on the brakes, we would go into a slide.  I could feel the car slipping and knew that underneath there was no traction whatsoever ... so it was just a go-slow-approach and hope that everyone else on the road had the brains to understand that the conditions were tricky.

Then this tractor-trailer truck went by at a speed unfathomable for the road conditions and threw up tons of slushy, brown snow that coated my windshield and left me completely blind.  For a second I was totally stunned and fortunately my brain screamed I CAN'T SEE and my hand automatically turned on the wipers, because that could have been it.  Which of course then makes you wonder what the hell you are doing out on the roads in a BLIZZARD that never ends and whose stupid idea was it anyway?

Oh, mine, I guess.  I'M NOT AFRAID!!!!  And let me just say this.  This morning I had to head up north a half hour to go food shopping and yes, it was snowing.  The roads were snow-covered and not for one second did I consider NOT going.  Hell, a half an hour on slippery roads?  What neeny sissypants can't do that?  Hell, I've driven across three states in a blizzard, and I am woman hear me roar!

HA!

I guess you can live your life in fear, or live it believing you can do anything.  (Which I can, by the way!)

So our quick little trip to the city was AWESOME!  Our hotel was awesome, the broadway show was awesome, the weather outside was frightful but everything else was delightful!

We stayed at the Marriott Marquis right in Times Square.  Now, people have always said that they don't like to stay right there because it is too crowded, noisy and not nice.  But I LOVED it.  I loved that I could walk out the door and everything was right there, within walking distance.  The show we went to, Spring Awakening, was right around the corner.  The next show we saw, Wintuk, at Madison Square Garden, was a few blocks from there.  Rockefeller Plaza, right there.  Everything ... it made life so much easier.

And yes, it was crowded and you left the interior of the hotel and entered the moving river of people, but if crowds daunt you, then perhaps a bustling city is not your destination.  I love it.  I don't mind, though it amazes me how irate people get when they turn around from window watching and smack right into you, and then yell at you for hitting them!  Wack jobs.  If personal space maintenance is your thing, then go to Siberia for gawd sake.

We went to the Museum of Modern Art, not so much for the modern art but for the Van Gogh exhibit.  But it was fun to see the girl's reaction to a piece of white canvas hanging on the wall with a square black box painted on.  Or a mirror hanging on the wall with a red dot light stuck to it.   I mean, it is kind of pointless and stupid, but isn't America grand that you can build a museum and put sheer stupidity on the walls and people will pay to go look at it?!!!!

Maddie and Emma also went ice skating at Rockefeller Plaza -- which is touristy but why the heck not.

We had our fun moments -- like when I dropped my mother, Maddie and Emma off right in the heart of Times Square -- just stopped in the midst of traffic and they pulled out all of our bags and stuff and went in to check into the hotel, while my sister and I drove a few blocks to save a few bucks by parking the car ourselves.  But ... when we arrived at the hotel we discovered there was an ENORMOUS area to drop off located underneath the hotel.

Who knew.  Perhaps the cop rapping on my window telling me to move might have mentioned that.  Geesh.

We had our tense moments, like when my mother accidently spilled wine on my sister and Emma and they were furious and made my mother feel awful.

You know, typical family bliss!

But all in all it was a successful, fun and fabola trip, and the only thing missing was Hallie!

What is perfect?

Usually we have these fabulous Christmas trees.  We have a cathedral ceiling living room and can get monster trees -- and have for years.  Last year I recall the tree not being all that spectacular, but it was fine.

But this year somehow we seemed to forget while picking it out that we have a large living room, and this tiny misshapen tree seemed quite lost in the corner.  And the shape of it, well, it looks like some Grinch-type being stole into our house and shaved off portions of this tree so that it would look ... wrong.

Last night we put on the lights and the cranberry and popcorn strings.  I kept glancing over at it and almost shuddering at its sheer ugliness.  Maddie said "fine, this is your fault, you don't have Christmas spirit and now we have a sad tree."

Geesh!  The pressure!

I tried, let me tell you, on the Christmas spirit front.  I bought stuff to make a gingerbread house, I strung popcorn and cranberries and Charlie and I rolled out gingerbread and sang christmas carols -- we were a commercial I'm telling you.

But what a disaster!  I don't know what went wrong, but the house kept collapsing, I was covered from head to toe in the "glue," which is a sticky concoction of egg whites and confectioner sugar that didn't seem to be hardening on the house, but it had no problem doing so in my hair, and no matter what we did, it wouldn't stay up.

Finally, as we desperately tried to apply gumdrops and other pieces of candy to the sinking house, we decided that it was a "disaster house," and had been hit by a vicious snowstorm and killed all the occupants.  (Which was kind of the truth, because we had little mini gingerbread people all around who had been crushed by the walls of the structure.)  And!  Charlie was fine with that.  He even laughed.

Phew.

When I came home from the most fabulous of fabulous hikes in the woods with the new fallen powdery snow, I found Charlie rehabbing the poor little house with a glue gun.  It doesn't look half bad, and the kid loves the glue gun.  I know he had more fun putting the pieces together with that then he did with the sticky other "glue," that was torturous and messy and didn't work to boot.

I glanced at the tree and realized that a little glue gun magic needed to take place in this arena as well.  Now of course I didn't use glue, but with a little rearranging of furniture, a strategically placed poinsettia and rocking chair, our little tree with its numerous flaws has been transformed into a beauty.  It also looks bigger surrounded by things, so it's all good.

Really good.

And I am off to New York City tomorrow in a supposed snowstorm.  But nope.  It will be fine.  

But I'm taking the glue gun just in case!

The haunting of plastic

A vast swath of the Pacific, twice the size of Texas, is full of plastic stew that is entering the food chain.

Ever since I saw a report on this where sea turtles and birds are dying because their mothers are feeding them what they think is jelly fish and the like, I have had a real problem with plastic.  A scientist went through the stomach of dead turtles and birds and their stomachs were full of plastic -- primarily those bags we put our groceries in.

And since my consciousness has been raised to this new level, it seems that I too am swimming in these bags.  I am loathe to throw them away, so I have bags full of these bags tucked all over the place.  I use re-usable shopping bags when I shop, but I am often in a situation where I don't have them with me.  Even if I stack them up and leave them on the counter before I leave to shop, I will forget them.  Or they will be in the wrong car.  I have loads of them -- it's crazy, and absolutely inexcusable, but those plastic bags keep creeping in.

I need to remember to ask for paper.   I had read that from a recycling standpoint, there was no difference to the question "paper or plastic, ma'am," but the paper bags are far more sturdy and able to perform another purpose, even if it's to act as a container of more garbage. Oh, there's just so much waste.

Plastic doesn't biodegrade, it photo-degrades, which means it is broken down by sunlight into smaller and smaller pieces, all of which are plastic polymers, eventually becoming individual molecules of plastic which are still too tough for anything to digest.  These molecules are then eaten by plankton and jelly fish who are then eaten by fish who are then eaten by bigger fish ... and well, then we eat those fish.  So we're potentially eating plastic.

It boggles the mind.  Like the plastic that deformed this turtle.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                    

This is a picture of a dead albatross, you can see all the plastic that it has ingested.

And yet, it's hard to undo using something that is so convenient, I get that.  But I just can't throw them away -- I see them going to sea, and it just feels wrong.

I have stopped using plastic water bottles and I recycle as much as I can, but our family still produces so much garbage.  Everything I throw away I look at, and think all this can did was hold this food for a short amount of time, and now it is useless forever.   Or this plastic container held yogurt and now it is useless, forever.

Forever.  It's not going anywhere.  In fact, it might just end up back in our bellies.

You want any salt with that?

Christmas countdown

It seems to sneak up every year.  You think it is weeks away, and then suddenly it is only DAYS away.  This year, for some reason, it is coming very quickly, and even though I was quite proactive in ordering gifts quite some time ago, I still have that feeling like there is SO MUCH TO DO and i don't have enough time to do it.

I am, of course, talking about Christmas.

Once upon a time I used to get into decorating the house for Christmas.   And this year, well, let's put the Christmas tree upside down!  Nah.  But these days I have no interest whatsoever in it.  Zip.  Zilch.

My children have accused me of being Scrooge.  They say I have no Christmas spirit.

But what exactly IS Christmas spirit?  Does it mean that like most things, it's all about ME creating something for everyone else?  Decorating the house, purchasing and wrapping gifts, stringing popcorn and cranberries for the tree (I have to FORCE people to help do this since Hallie left, she always helped!) and making sure everyone has special holiday meals and plenty of hefty doses of Christmas spirit?

You know, that makes a whole lot of sense when you have little kids.  But my kids are no longer little and I see no reason for having to be the creator of something they can also contribute to.  If it is not inside of me to fill the house with lights and decorations and spend hours on something I have no interest in ... then guess what, it's not gonna happen!  If that is Scrooge-like, then guilty as charged, but I have done my best to purchase gifts that they will all love and enjoy and of course I will wrap them and decorate the tree and string popcorn and cranberries and feed them food that is all happy and Christmas-like.

But it's not what it's all about, and I can't seem to figure out how to impart that, other than to just stop doing the things that to them make Christmas.  Like the gifts.  My kids don't need anything -- and you hear this from countless other people.  We buy our children everything they need and then some more after that.  It's just the way things are (even if you can't afford it) and so it's really, really hard to ignite the spark that has already been fanned into a full blown forest fire years ago.  Whatever gifts I have for my children, they will not get all that excited about.  Because it will be disappointing because it won't be more than they've had before.  That is impossible.

They have it all.  Hard to top that.  And so, let me tell you, it's not all that fun to buy them.  It feels more like an obligation -- because everyone else does it.  And let me tell you even louder that THAT reason is the best reason for me NOT to want to do it anymore!  Ick.

Now, don't get me wrong -- I have a few items that I am excited about giving, but not across the board, and it's those presents that I have purchased out of a sense of obligation that do not sit well with me.  And this isn't new, I've felt like this for a while -- as each year I tried to top the year before, until it became impossible.

And it's a situation I can't figure out how to solve.  But then again, I can't change the way I feel either, and with each passing Christmas I become less and less inclined to feel obligated  to be the perfect Christmas mother -- fa la la la.

And it's hard to purchase more stuff to bring into a house already brimming with stuff.  I say this, as I sit in my office surrounded by piles.  No matter how hard I try to muck out from underneath the accumulation of years of junk, it seems to return as soon as I turn around.  And when I go shopping, I see all this stuff that I so totally NEEEED (not at all) and end up buying it and then wondering what the heck?

Yeah, I guess that all sounds quite Scrooge-like -- but it doesn't come from a place of evil Christmas past's lurking in my psyche -- it comes from wanting to evolve a commercial holiday back to its origin -- of Christmas spirit being about love and peace and happiness and joy.

NOT STUFF!

It's there, inside me.  When we went to get the tree, I inhaled the wonderful aroma of greens surrounding me.  It's all right there, at the surface, but I think that if everyone wants to wallow in Christmas spirit, then they should bring a little to the table -- because it's not all about one person doing everything all the time.  

Or it shouldn't be!

I am famous!

How cool is this!  I was going through my year-in-a-life photos recently and realized that while I think I am getting all these new hairstyles, I'm really just repeating myself!  And then I discovered this fun site and decided to play!  

This first picture is pretty old, like last spring.

The middle picture was taken six weeks ago when I had my hair cut "short."  Well, for me anyway.

And the last was taken tonight, I had my hair done today and she styled it straight, but it's not a lot longer than the above picture when it's curly.

So how exciting is that?  Okay, I'm bored.  And famous!  But this place is cool, check it out: http://www.dumpr.net/ 

 

Playing doctor

And yes, I did do that when I was younger :)

But this is a different topic.

I pretty much have no use for the medical establishment -- and this covers both people doctors and animal doctors.  Oh, I know they save lives and have more knowledge than me in many, many things, but since I was a small child I have had an intense distrust, and nothing has happened over the course of my lifetime to change my mind.

I maintain this belief despite the fact that I would have died without medical intervention when I had my first baby.

So, it makes no sense, and I don't disagree that my entire stance on the subject is irrational and ridiculous!  But some people have blue eyes, and for me, I will do just about anything to avoid seeing a doctor. Or in this case, a vet.

Blue eyes, hates doctors.  Totally the same thing!

My older black lab Luna has this bump on her butt, and yesterday it seemed kind of icky.   I decided to get up close and personal to it (now mind you, the normal person would have thrown their dog in the car and rushed to the vet), but normal has never been my thing.  It doesn't hurt her, because I poked around a bit and she didn't seem to care.

So I looked it up, and with the aid of pictures and descriptions, I have diagnosed her with a lipoma, which is a fatty tumor which is VERY rarely malignant.  Due to this, the standard of care is to leave these lumps alone unless they are causing some kind of functional problem (it's kinda gross to hike in the woods and have to stare at it, does that count as functional?).

While lipomas can be removed, the risk of anesthesia outweighs the risk of leaving the tumour alone, and most vets are reluctant to remove them due to this.

The last time Luna went to the vet, she was kept there for a few nights.  I thought she was dying, but she had in fact gone down to "the banquet" and eaten a lot of crap and was royally sick.  The vet examined her stomach contents and did note that there were walnuts in it.  (This is very helpful information of course!)  He also said she had something wrong with her leg that required surgery.

Huh?  Luna is 11 years going on 12 and she hikes all the time and I've never noticed her limp, much less require SURGERY to repair something that doesn't seem broken.   

The morning I came home and found her on the porch, unresponsive to the throwing of a ball, I knew she was sick.  I was genuinely worried and called a new vet in town and explained that I had a sick dog.  This psycho woman went off on how she did not have time to take care of a dying dog and that I needed to call this place a half an hour away to get immediate emergency care for my "dying animal."  Which was pretty amazing, because my dying animal was laying on the front porch and all I'd told her was that I knew she was sick because she wouldn't chase a ball!

I stared at the phone in disbelief, checked the room for hidden cameras to make sure I wasn't on Candid Camera, and then dialed my "usual" vet, which is fairly meaningless since I never go.  They said they would see her, but it might be a while and I would have to drop her off.  The whole thing was bizarre, and later I found some throw up that made me realize she'd probably run down to the banquet (there is a restaurant that borders our property and the owner/chef throws his garbage in the field.  The dogs love to go down and feast on meat bones, and any other crap a kitchen creates in the course of feeding people).  The bottom line is, I could have saved hundreds of dollars by just waiting.

We also told the vet what had happened, while he was busy going through her poop or throw-up or whatever he was doing -- same thing I'd done, really!  And the leg thing,  hell, that came out of nowhere!

But I bet you my husband will take her to the vet because he does not have faith in my diagnosing skills!

They're not operating on her -- whatever they say!  

I don't feel it is necessary!  :)

New York City here we come!

I have been locating health food stores/restaurants in New York City, parking garages within walking distance of our hotel (located in the heart of Times Square) and printing countless maps to all the venues we will be attending when we head for our annual girl's jaunt into the city pre-Christmas.

And it is amazing how it has changed since even last year!  I love to walk, and I especially adore walking in the city, but all the maps that I have printed in the past were driving directions.  Last November, my friend Cheryl and I were walking to find a french fry restaurant that for some reason I NEEDED to go to, and it was like we were walking in circles, when we realized, duh, we're on one-way streets and these are driving directions.  

Well, now you can print WALKING directions, and how cool is that!  And not only that, but you can get satellite images of all the streets to check out what type of neighborhood you are venturing into.  For example, Cheryl and I hit a few streets that were a little SCARY and we both were basically holding our breath and looking for a few white faces for a few blocks.

It's kind of fun to play around with the maps and adjust the directions to find shorter routes, etc.  And because I didn't want to spend a ton of money to have my car valet parked from the hotel, I just did a search of parking garages and then figured out which one was closest to the hotel.  Get this, it would have cost $120 to have the hotel take my car a few blocks, and to do it myself it is $70!  Not bad, almost half price and the garage is literally a two-minute walk from the hotel.

Speaking of saving money, I heard a report on the news today that the price of gas could get below a dollar before the end of the year.  I just do NOT get it.  Nor am I even going to try.  What I really want to do is get really big tanks and fill them up with the cheap gas -- my own little stockpile if you will -- because of course it will go up again.  The report also stated that the negative aspect of these falling gas prices is that people will again start using as much as they did before, and not only will the demand increase, but we'll be right back at the position of battling for a dwindling resource.  So ... of course none of us will have learned our lesson and we'll be faced once again with the end of the world.

Oh well.  

Maybe I can pass this quiz!

I have been doing practice PSAT tests with Charlie since he is taking the test on Saturday, and it is really quite amazing how many I get wrong.  I've never considered myself to be anything less than fairly intelligent, but if you base this on current standardized testing -- I appear to be semi-moronic!

Which I am perfectly cool with, because in my world it is the morons who design these tests, so it all works out.  What I don't get is why they are trying to trip you up:  Just make it a test to see if kids get things or not.   They are so gawdawful boring that I lose my train of thought and can hardly get through 20 questions.  I think the ones I get wrong are the ones I don't want to think about ... because who cares!  Seriously.  

So I snitched this off of my daughter's blog who snitched it off someone else's.  

Have you ever…

1. gone on a blind date?  Yes, I was living in Boston and a co-worker asked me to go out on a date with him, his girlfriend and his friend.  I didn't know him all that well and I was 22 and I discovered they were much older than me and we went to a nice restaurant and then a party at a really nice house that were friends of theirs.  I was completely out of my comfort zone and couldn't tell you much about the guy.  I can tell you in great detail what it felt like to be in the back of the car (it was a Saab) feeling totally out of my element and wondering how I could get out of the whole thing and get home!  And then afterward getting phone calls from the guy and wanting him just to go away.  Never did that again!

2. skipped school?  I think I could write a novel based on skipping school escapades.  Like the time a bunch of us were skipping school and hanging at Dana Fifield's house and the maids came, and we had to all hang in her closet for hours until they left.  Or the time Heidi and I decided we were going to be rock stars and stayed home to practice our gig.  Which consisted ENTIRELY of her playing "I'm leaving on a Jet Plane" on the guitar doing back up while I sang.  We even told the vice-principal that when we did finally return to school.  We were THAT serious.

 3. watched someone die? No.

4. been on a plane? Oh yes, more than I can count.  The first time was when I flew to Washington, D.C. with my father and grandmother.  He was working with a senator at the time and needed to visit the Pentagon, and my grandmother's family all lived there.  I had a fabulous time ... I think I was 12 maybe?  I don't know, maybe younger.  I can recall looking down at the clouds and thinking it would be the BEST THING to jump out of the plane and land on those fluffy beds of wonder. 

5. been on the opposite side of your country? Yes -- I've dipped my toes in both the Atlantic and Pacific.

6. swam in the ocean?  That's like asking me if I breathe air.

7. had your booze taken away by the cops? No, I don't like to share with anyone!

8. lettered in high school sport? Yes!  volleyball, basketball and softball.

9. cried yourself to sleep? The first time was when my high school boyfriend left for school after we'd spent the entire summer on inseparable terms.  I cried and cried, wrapped up in his sweater, and even woke up in the middle of the night sobbing.  Now I know I was crying for something that would never happen again, though at the time I didn't understand the depth of my misery, since he was only a few hours away!  But it was truly a first love, an intense summer romance, that we tried to keep alive for a few years beyond that, but it was never the same.  I guess I knew all along that night.

10. played cops and robbers? Oh you betchya!  Peter Henning lived up the road and he had GUNS to die for.  He also had the most incredible treehouse, and instead of cops and robbers we played cowboys and Indians.  I happened to be the latter, and I was trying to attack the cowboys in the treehouse, and I was climbing up the ladder, when they started to crank it up.  (It had a chain that they could crank up at the top and pull the ladder flush to the floor of the tree house.)  I kept going, they kept cranking ... and then they let go, and I fell to the ground and landed on a rock.  My ankle was done in, but those damn cowboys didn't care one hoot.  I had to crawl back to my teepee on my hands and knees and get the mother squaw to take me to the E.R.  I don't think I ever had to be anything but a cowboy after that, high and dry in the treehouse!

11. sung karaoke? Well, not in public, but we've had karaoke machines for years, and there's nothing like singing at the top of your lungs for a few hours to release some steam.  Oh wait!  We had a party once and we DID sing to a crowd!  I sang "It's my party and I'll cry if I Want to!"  HAHAHAHA.  That's right.

12. paid for a meal with coins only? This question is purely to find out how old you are!  And the answer is yes, I come from a time when you could pay for a small meal with coins!

13. done something you told yourself you wouldn’t? Yes, like get married, have children, or eaten that last slice of pizza.  I am crazy impetuous and clearly don't listen to myself!!!

14. cheated on an exam?  Wrote the answers on my hand then was too afraid to look at my hand!!!  Then spent a good portion of the time trying to get the answers OFF my hand!   Crime just doesn't pay, too stressful.  I'd rather flunk!

15. made prank phone calls Hello, is your refrigerator running?  Oh, we thought so, it just ran by our window.  Hello, do you have Prince Edward in a can?  Well, you better let him out, he's going to suffocate.  I tell ya, the demise of one of the greatest pastimes of childhood has been CALLER ID.

16. laughed until some sort of beverage came out of your nose? Yes, but only because I laugh a lot.  It was bound to happen!

17. caught a snowflake on your tongue?   Yes, and if you're wondering what happens, it melts.

18. watched the sunrise with someone you care about? My friend Heidi and I climbed Mt. Kearsarge in the dark once to see the sunrise.  We cared about each other plenty, but all we REALLY cared about at the top of that mountain was water -- which we hadn't thought to bring with us.  Oh, and a sunrise on top of a mountain looks much like a sunrise at the bottom of a mountain.  I never repeated that particular exercise.

I also sat and watched the sunrise on a beach in Greece, but the guy was only a passing-by Australian and I never saw him again.

19. been kissed under the misteltoe? Do people actually hang that up?  Can't say I've ever seen it.

20. ever been arrested? Well, yes and no.  I was followed to the police station by the police in the get-away car (that clearly didn't get away) from stealing roadside signs.  My friend Nancy was driving, and quite frankly I kept saying it was STUPID to drive around in a Chevette hatchback with the signs hanging out.  We sat on chairs in the police station until our parents came to get us.  I wasn't fingerprinted or put into the clink.  So, what do you think?  Somewhere in between I guess!

21. gone ice skating? Oh yes.  Heidi and I (I think this was just before we were going to be rock stars) were going to be ice skating somethings.  She lived on the lake, so we spent hours and hours and hours and hours perfecting our skills.  Since then I've skated many times ... but clearly, I should have been an ice skating rock star!

22. been skinny dipping outdoors?  Well of course!!!

23. had a nickname? Nothing I care to remember or put back into the ether.

24. been on TV? It seems hard to imagine that I haven't!  I was on the Uncle Gus show when I was a kid, but that was a local station.  Guess not!

Karma biting you in the ass Orange Juice man?

First off, I feel like hell.  And I find typing to be challenging and I'd rather just curl up and try to sleep this off, but I have too much to do, so I will blog instead.

Sleep what off?

Well, let me tell you.  Ever hear about the word moderation?  

I don't practice it.

So last night I decided to go out to eat and eat food I haven't eat in 43 days.  And I had two cosmos with that.

I should have stopped there -- a piece of fish and a couple of drinks.  I probably wouldn't have been hit by the bus.  But no.  I don't stop there.  I go to a party and drink wine.  On TOP of the cosmos.  Which had hit me, by the way.  And it was a free booze party and I happened to be standing near the bar, so people were putting a fresh glass in my hand.  Or I may have asked.  It's hard to recall.  And I drank white wine, and I am sure it was cheap.  Well, according to my headache, which I just examined, it was absolutely cheap.  WHY? WHY? WHY?

I don't know.

Really, I don't.

I couldn't finish either my salad or my meal because I was too full.  So if I couldn't consume as much food as I have in the past, what made me so sure I could consume alcohol in such a manner?

I don't know.

I wasn't thinking.  I was drinking.  HAHAHAHAHA.

Anyway, I am just prefacing this entry with that so you will understand why I am in a less than stellar mood (I have to clean the house and pack for a ski weekend and I DON'T WANT TO!)

So I just read an article that O.J. Simpson is going to go to jail.  Not for hacking his wife and her friend to death, but for stealing his crap back.  I mean, you can't REALLY blame the guy, he got away with murder so he probably thought that stealing was pretty low on the totem pole of transgressions, at least for him.  But what must he be thinking?  I tell you what he's thinking, he's thinking IT'S NOT FAIR.  Whiney baby boo boo.

And me, in my evil state of mind, am laughing.  I am ROFLMAO (rolling on floor laughing my ass off).  Well, not literally, because that might finish me off today, but seriously.  How great is that?

I love karma.  It's what gets me through my new state of not dwelling on negative things, like nasty teachers that I'd like to cut up into little pieces and put through my Cuisinart and high-speed blender (did I say that out loud?)  Because I know that adults who make children cry will one day get it back, and that makes it a little easier for me not to jump into my car and go punch them in the nose.  Because wow, that would feel good.

But I ... unlike misterstupidorangejuiceman ... **I** know the difference between right and wrong, even not very nice and probably shouldn't do it.

And even better, **I** know how to slip things into my blog without them being too negative.  HAHAHAHAHA.

Wait a minute.  The irony has not escaped me.  Here I am, feeling morally and ethically superior to OJ Simpson, for crying out loud, when I feel like doggy doo from excessive eating and drinking.

My ass, after all.  Has been bitten.  

::::::::::::::::hanging my head:::::::::::::::::

Whiney baby boo boo

Dream a little dream

I know it is hard to listen to someone's dreams, but I woke up this morning after this dream, and it was one of those that just stays with you.  And the funny thing is, during the dream I wanted to blog about it!

In the dream I had given birth quite easily to two babies.  They were beautiful, blonde and I am pretty sure they were both boys, but I'm not one hundred percent on that.  Because they never needed to be changed.  They slept all the time, but they would nurse occasionally.  We kept them on a bed with us, and it was after quite some time that I realized I had no diapers, no clothes, no crib, no NOTHING for either of these babies ... and yet, they seemed perfectly content, and I didn't seem all that worried about it.  In fact, Peter was going shopping and it wasn't for ANY of those things that we needed!

Which is what I wanted to blog about!  I wanted to blog about how EASY it is to have two babies after you've had three and there's been a long span of time.  But ... I have done that, and it's not really THAT easy, so I'm not sure what the whole thing was about!  But during the dream I was so impressed with the serenity of it all -- just taking these warm babies and feeding them, the other one waiting patiently until it was his/her turn.

From my books come the following meanings:

From Zolar's Encyclopedia and dictionary of Dreams, giving birth means:

A union at the physical, spiritual and mental levels.

And nursing a baby means:

A concern for your helplessness and wish to be loved.

From the Dream Directory:

As an object in dreams, a baby or child represents something that requires great care and attention.  The meaning is at issue regarding whether it is your original responsibility or one that has been passed off on you by someone else.

From 10,000 Dreams Interpreted:

The people who appear in dreams are the characters with which we write our "play."  Often they appear simply as themselves, particularly if they are people we know, or have a relationship with in the here and now.  We may introduce them in order to highlight a specific quality or characteristic.  We may also permit them into our dream scenario as projections of our inner life or state of being.  Finally, they may signify someone who is more important than the dreamer.

To dream about a baby that is our own indicates that we need to recognize those vulnerable feelings over which we have no control.  We may be attempting something new.

Psychologically we are in touch with the innocent, curious side of ourselves, with the part which neither wants nor needs responsibility.  Dreaming of a baby can indicate that, on a spiritual level, the dreamer has a need for a feeling of purity.

If that infant was a boy (which I am pretty sure it was), the boy shows the potential for growth and new experience.  

Okay ... last night before I fell asleep, when I didn't even think I'd been asleep, I was jarred awake by one of those quick dreams that I was falling.  According to the book, to dream of falling shows a lack of confidence in our own ability.

Now that is important because I have been trying to make a decision.  And I have been very confident that it is exactly what I want to do.   And JUST before that dream I had a thought that maybe I was jumping in too quick.

After that rather abrupt awakening, I thought to myself that maybe I should meditate on it again in the morning.  And then I fell asleep and the dream occurred at some point.

So what does the dream mean to me?

Well, a union at the physical, spiritual and mental levels is important because that is what I am striving for.  I think we all do, of course, but I am currently consciously seeking this.  The sense of peace that I have at this time is very indicative of the fact that I am definitely on the right path towards achieving this type of clarity.

As for a concern for my helplessness and need to be loved -- the way I see that is that my helplessness is a reflection of my sudden doubts.  And yet, in the dream, when I was nursing I felt the most amazing sense of peace and security -- so the actual contradiction says to me that I have overcome that helplessness via this dream.

How?

Well, a baby represents something that requires great care and attention -- as does making a decision that will affect the rest of your life.  In addition, since a character in a dream highlights a specific quality or characteristic, the fact that mine was a baby makes sense in that my decision reflects something new and a departure from anything I've ever thought of doing with my life.  It is brand new -- and yet requires care and feeding in order to grow.

Don't you just love dreams?  Well, clearly I do.  And I believe that this dream answered the question I'd posed to myself just before falling asleep.

It says to me that I AM making the right decision (and I can still feel the joy in which I wanted to write in my blog in the dream, to explain how EASY it was to have two infants (or this new life's path), and how I was prepared for it, even though I didn't have all the supposed necessities at hand.)

Which says that it is the right decision, I am going to find it intuitively easy and it will bring me joy.

I will keep you updated!

Food never fails

                                          Food never fails as a topic of discussion.  It's really one of the most complex issues we face on this planet -- even if we don't know it!

And I am obviously obsessed with it -- which is my thing, I am an obsessor I admit it!  But I don't want to become obsessed with eating raw, because I think that is what happens to some people, and then they lose sight of the fact that they look scrawny and unhealthy and in need of a good steak.

Last spring some friends and I went to the closest raw food restaurant for my birthday lunch.  It is over two hours away and was a small little place.  The owner was not especially good looking -- he was too skinny and his skin kind of hung off his face.  The people behind the counter were not glowing pictures of health either.

Still the food was delicious.  But my sister told me that she has heard a rumor that it is going out of business -- there is just not enough interest.  Well, it's an awful location -- it's a small town and something so specialized as raw food needs a diverse audience.  But still, it seems to me that he should just cater to the other audience -- and serve organic but cooked food.  But I suspect that he believes that the cooked food is too unhealthy to serve.

But he looks unhealthy.

And when I went to Cafe Gratitude in San Francisco last summer, the food was delicious.  But the waitresses were way too skinny and again, I looked for the glow and didn't see it.  

And it's stayed in the back of my mind.  

For the last 41 days, I have enjoyed my raw food journey.  I feel good and I do not have any cravings at all for cooked food.  Well, except for pizza, and then I just eat it.  I love pizza, and I've made raw versions of pizza which are delicious, and recently we went out to eat and I ordered a pizza with a little cheese and basil sauce and it was to die for.  

Thanksgiving was not a problem at all -- I was perfectly happy with the salads I prepared and I nibbled a small piece of turkey, but I didn't want anymore.  I'm not about denying myself -- and if it had tasted good, then I would have had a piece.  But it's not like that, everything is going fine.

But the other night I was in front of the fire -- a fire that Charlie kept roaring by continuously stoking and putting fresh logs on -- and I was reading.  I was content.  I didn't feel like getting up and preparing anything to eat.  But I'd gone skiing, and I was hungry.  

But still, I kept reading.  And Peter prepared dinner for him and Charlie and it smelled really, really good.  And still, I kept reading.  And then he yelled "dinner's ready," and I thought, oh, I wish it was.

Well, why couldn't it be?

Oh no!  The voice in my head was going to get me!  I knew it!  Once you open that door ...

I ate a small bowl of the shepherd's pie, thoroughly enjoyed it, and that was that.

Then I started thinking about the non-eating aspects of being a raw foodist.  I mean, seriously, how can ALL cooked food be bad?  And I'd already decided that raw onions were too much for me.  But I LOVE cooked onions.  So .... isn't that my body telling me something?  

Well, it appears my body is wrong, because I can't find any evidence to support that cooked onions provide anywhere NEAR the same benefits that a raw onion does.  But ... if I LIKE my onions cooked, doesn't it make sense to eat my onions raw MOST of the time, but occasionally to cook them up because I just plain like them that way?

Then I have "heard" that you don't get any benefits out of a raw tomato, that it is cooking that draws out the lycopene.  And this appears to be true (along with carrots), because our digestive enzymes can't break through the cell walls to unlock the nutrients.

But a piece of watermelon contains more lycopene than a tomato.

So here's the thing.  Unless you spend all day (like I do!) researching this stuff, you aren't going to have a clue.  But I have a reason for it -- I want to know all that I can so that I can help others, and I don't want to be "that" person who insists that you have to eat raw or it's a waste of time.  Because it's not.  

If you can get more lycopene out of cooked tomato sauce on a pizza, then have the pizza along with a salad of fresh, raw veggies.  Now that to me seems like the best of both worlds.

What I am trying very hard not to do is believe any one statement.  I don't go to one place and read that a certain food is this.  I go to a dozen, and then I do comparisons.  I get a raw foodist's opinion and I get a medical doctor's -- and then whatever else falls between those two categories.  Primarily I just want to be responsible before I give out advice to others.

At the class I took on how to become a raw food chef, the instructors were very sure of their statements and there were times that I questioned them.  Because I am a natural researcher, I checked a few things out ... and they weren't always as definitive as was stated in the class.

That can easily be managed by first prefacing the statement by saying something along the lines of "there is some confusion with this particular issue, but to the best of our knowledge ..." but I don't think that they believed there WAS any confusion.  And it's that kind of hard-core belief system that concerns me.

I mean let's be honest here, the human race has been eating cooked food for a good long time.  I've read where maybe it wasn't necessary for food to be cooked, but the cave men were curious creatures, and after discovering fire they started to throw food in it to see what happened.  Then when everyone woke up in the morning, they figured it was safe.  Now of course, this is all guessing, since none of us have ever spoken to the cave men (and you probably don't want to ask that Geico character either, because he is one touchy cave man!)  But isn't it just as experimental to eat raw?

I think it is so interesting that I have reached this "dilemma" if you will, even though I am perfectly content with the diet and its results.  And I think it is because deep down I know that I go to extremes and not everyone does.  So how can I be of use to anyone as an extremist if my only audience is a handful of potential raw food extremists?

I am trying to be practical is all.

And I would hope that if my business was suffering because I didn't have enough raw food customers, that I would come up with an alternative solution.

And THAT is what I mean by not getting bogged down in something.

Just go with the flow.  Cooked, raw, medium rare!

The helmet decision

(The big box in the goggles is the reflection of the computer screen and I am too lazy to take a picture with my camera!)

Anyway.  This morning I went skiing for the first day of the year with Maddie, who had already gone two days in a row.  Anyone who skis knows that the first day can be brutal.  Everything feels wrong, your boots hurt, your clothes feel confining and there is pain involved on all fronts.

I expected this, and the first run did not disappoint.  My legs were screaming, my feet were aching and felt as though someone was driving small nails through them and I couldn't adjust my hat/neck warmer and goggles properly so that I wasn't getting cold air on exposed skin.  In a nutshell, the first run pretty much sucked despite the amazing snow conditions.

Maddie kept telling me that I had to unbuckle my boots.  But no.  I have been skiing for ::::cough cough:::: forty something years :::::::good lord:::::::: and if I know anything it's that once you buckle the boots, you don't go up or down playing with adjustments because it won't work.  Can ruin your whole day.  So I gutted through it.

By the third run things were clicking into place.  I started to realize that we had the WHOLE trail to ourselves, the whole darned corduroy trail with patches of blue sky and the unfrozen lake in our view.  Hello!  Heaven on earth.  And my feet had gone from crazy painful to a moderate ache.  And for some reason my legs weren't burning any more.  I, well, I felt good!  And I was going for it, keeping up with Maddie with no problem.  She was a little ahead of me and I saw her go to the far edge to do a tight turn, and I realized that there was very little between the woods and the trail -- maybe five inches of snow.  Not much of a buffer.   As I reached the spot I peered into the woods and shuddered a bit ... wouldn't want to lose control now -- and fly into the woods towards a sure death.

The helmet discussion has come up before, as year after year passes and everyone we know has succumbed to the brain buckets.  For me, it has always been a question of freedom.   I don't want to wear something on my head that is going to confine me -- feel heavy and cumbersome and cramp my style.  So I've always just insisted I would never wear a helmet, live free or die.

But today the die part kept popping into my head a little more than the live part!  I was flying.  This has definitely niggled in the back of my head in years past, as I've been flying down a trail and caught an edge, and corrected it.  And then thought, wow, that would have been bad.  I don't have to ski fast, and there are times when I slow way down and don't even think about it.  But today, I was skiing with a racer, and they ski fast.

And it feels good.

And this was my first day.  

If my legs can stand some pretty strenuous runs the first time out, it's pretty unlikely that I will slow down in the days, weeks and months to come.  It is ski season.

And I ski.

A lot.

So Peter and I had some errands to run and I told him I wanted to check out helmets.  He was shocked.  He kept pointing out how adamant I have been against them for the past however many years, and I said yes, I understand, but people can change their minds.

And they aren't heavy at all.  In fact, I think it weighs as much as my hat does!  I put the first one on that caught my fancy (pink of course!) and it fit snugly, warmly, and well, it felt right.  I turned to Peter and he laughed.  I asked him, does it look that bad?

He said no, but it's just weird to see you in a helmet.  

Well, for heaven's sake, get over it.  My mind was made up.  I tried a few others on, but this helmet and I had already bonded.  

Peter still couldn't believe it.  He thought we were just LOOKING at helmets.  Well, maybe we were, but I'd found one that felt good, why wait?  So then we had to find him a helmet as well.  Because he claimed that he has always known that it was safer to use helmets.  (He just wanted to be unsafe with me I guess!)

So there you have it.  It wasn't much of a decision at all.  It was just time.  And in the spring, when the sun is shining, I will most definitely NOT wear a helmet and fly down the trails with my hair trailing behind me.  Because THAT is the true definition of freedom.

But the snow is always mushy and you go way slower and it's more like plowing than flying!  And your legs are in shape.

And did I mention it was pink?

Dying for a good cause

The 34-year-old worker who died Friday morning after opening up the doors to the Long Island-based Wal-Mart store and being trampled was a beautiful, sacrificial death.

How wonderful that there are American citizens willing to give up their lives so that others may shop for great deals.  It brings a tear to my eye.  And even more intense was when it became apparent that this person -- this suicidal door opener -- had indeed succumbed to his death, shoppers continued to pour in and ignored what was on the floor before them.

At least we now have another job description for Wal-Mart workers, along with greeter, cashier, etc.  Suicidal door-openers.  You gotta love America, the land of opportunity.

As a firm believer in karma, I have no doubt that those who stepped upon this man will suffer for their disgusting behavior.  Perhaps they will became agoraphobic and forced to watch their newly-purchased flat screen televisions for the rest of their lives.  I don't know, but it chills me to the bone to think that some crappy STUFF was more important than a man's life to these disgusting consumer junkies.

It makes me sick.

If you save $100 by staying in line for hours and getting various discounts, does it really matter in the grand scheme of things?  Could your child have ONE less toy apiece and let you go shop during normal hours when the doors aren't clogged by savages?

It truly was a Black Friday, but I suspect that Wal-Mart will continue the tradition in the years to come.  Because they know what is important:  Providing the CRAP to the consumers at a reduced rate.  It's really all there is.

I am thankful that I care more about human beings than I do about stuff.  Today, yesterday and forever.

To disappoint or not to disappoint, that is the question

I think one of the hardest things for me to do is watch people make the same mistakes over and over.

So many people get caught up in their dramas -- and they repeat the same things that make them miserable time and again -- because those dramas are safe.

One thing I have noticed with being raw is that I don't hold on to anger long -- I have so much more clarity as to what makes people tick, that instead of personalizing it, I compartmentalize all the aspects of it -- then look at each one separately and see how they form the whole. (The whole drama that is!)

I think more than angry though, it just makes me very sad. And it is my own problem that I believe that people can change -- or want to change enough to institute that change.

So I have to learn how to not let other people's actions affect me! Which is one tall order, because life is made up of relationships and imperfections and personalities and situations.

The key is to just let it go. See things as they are and then move on.

Yesterday Charlie was in rare form. That translates into he was being the biggest jerk on the planet. Rude, obnoxious, nasty ... he felt toxic. I wanted nothing to do with him -- and of course he knew that, so he started pushing buttons. In most cases he hits dead buttons -- I have long since figured him out, but there are times when I'm not prepared. And that would be after a long stretch of him being nothing but sweet, helpful and easy to get along with. I can't remember the last time he was the biggest jerk on the planet -- so -- I guess a part of me had forgotten that he can indeed be just that.

I didn't engage when he started mouthing off. I ignored him when he said he wasn't going to go shopping with me (a pre-planned event that he was trying to get out of at the last minute) but when I was driving out of the driveway and he came running after me, and then acted like he was going to slam the car window and then swore at me, I felt like killing him.

A deep primal urge to smash his head against the pavement, or even better, drive over him.

It's not like I had to keep myself from doing either of those things. I wasn't shaking with anger or had my foot poised over the gas pedal. But it's just so sad that I even have such thoughts. That he can evoke such anger out of me.

But why am I surprised? He's done it a million times before.

Because I am always (stupidly it seems) hopeful that the change he has exhibited for months and months has taken permanent hold and that he is no longer capable of being such a ... a... creep.

People will always disappoint you. You just have to figure out how to handle it in such a way that their actions remain just that ... THEIRS! Or even better, not to have it touch you so that you have to use words like disappoint.

For example. If I had just taken a few minutes when Charlie started acting "off," to examine the situation, I probably could have avoided it altogether. First, he was probably feeling a little overwhelmed at the thought of preparing Thanksgiving dinner for everyone. He is, after all, only 13 and that's a big job for anyone. Now obviously I'm not going to abandon him alone in the kitchen, but he doesn't think that way.

Then to top that off, he received some very disappointing news that if again, I had taken the time, I would have realized I should have explained it to him more thoroughly and tried to make him feel better about things. I forget sometimes that things affect him deeply.

But after careful thought I have concluded that I too, am only human and obviously must participate in some dramas of my own.   And the truth is, that people do TRY, and Charlie is a good example of someone who is definitely improving with age.

Hopefully I will to :)

This is where it will end

Just strap on the feed bag.

AhhhhhHHHHHHHHHHHHH

I've discovered it.  I have!

Discovered what?

Well, the meaning of life of course!

As I watched this movie today, so completely and utterly drawn in, I had to ask myself, what IS it about the Twilight books, the movie, that I find so compelling?

I like Bella of course because she is her own person.  She doesn't care about being in the in crowd, she doesn't care what people think of her or what she wears or what she looks like.  In fact, she thinks she isn't that special at all and assumes that is how everyone else sees her.

She is unassuming.

I am not like her at all, really, but I certainly relate to her on a certain level.

And then there is ... Edward.

He is the ultimate ... ULTIMATE ... bad guy.  I've always been attracted to "that guy" -- the one you don't want to bring home to meet Daddy.  Perhaps all women are, I don't know.  But Edward stands for Every Girl's dream, and he has manners to boot.  If he loves you, he won't kill you.  Gotta love that.

Star-crossed lovers are always good fodder for romance novels and movies because ultimately you want to see the near impossible happen.  I can recall when my daughter watched Pretty Woman like everyday for years.  Hey, I liked the movie and I liked looking at Richard Gere, but not everyday.  But I got it, because it is the ultimate Cinderella story and we all want that -- to be swept off our feet and told that we are loved despite who we are.

Bella and Edward are so endearing to our psyches because they are such polar opposites -- and yet, the attraction, despite its impossibility -- is what drives us to root for them.  Because the ultimate message is, if you love someone and they love you, then he can resist sucking your blood and you can forgive him for being a 300 year old monster vampire.  It's really that simple.

And brings us back to the meaning of life. 

Which is love.

That's all we want.

But we want impossible love -- we want love that defies all common sense and possibility.  We want it, because love is like a drug -- once you taste it, you want more and more and more. 

So what is wrong with that?

The power of chocolate

So.  I made this raw chocolate out of cacoa nibs, coconut oil and agave -- which is the basis of all raw chocolate, including the above which you can purchase -- but why bother, because it is a piece of cake (no chocolate!) to make.

The first day I couldn't stop eating it.  I mean, this stuff is crazy.  

And I didn't sleep for three days.

I am very sensitive to caffeine, and I have no idea what the caffeine content is in raw cacoa, but it must be mad crazy, because I was zinging for hours.  So I had some at 7 this morning, thinking I'd be safe. (I looked it up and it says that raw chocolate contains very little caffeine.  So I react to something else then!  Cuz I wasn't dreaming I wasn't sleeping!)

But wowsa!  I am so hyped up -- so, so ... HAPPY!  I mean seriously, I can't keep my lips from turning upwards into a smile.  It's kind of weird.  In a good sort of way.

And I can't keep still!  I have to DO something.

Anyway, the thing is, chocolate is good for you.  At least THIS chocolate is.  We're not talking Three Musketeers bars here, we're talking raw chocolate fresh from the nut.

The nut?

Yes, chocolate comes from a nut, which grows on a tree.  A very odd tree.  And another cool thing about chocolate is that it is ALWAYS in season.  There is no chocolate nut season, the nuts grow all year long.  The theory for this is that we NEED chocolate all the time!

I am hip with that.

So money doesn't grow on trees -- but chocolate does!  Life is good.

This is the tree and the nuts are inside the fruit (pods).  These trees grow in tropical rainforests in South America, Malaysia and Africa.

these are the nuts.

The cacoa pods take five to six months to ripen.  On a typical plantation the pod is cut open with a machete and the beans are removed (there are approximately 45 beans per pod).  The beans are then covered with banana leaves and left to ferment for five days, which reduces the bitterness and enhances the chocolate flavor.  Then they are left to dry in the sun ... and that's it!  Then they are sent off to cacoa buyers and processors.

ALL chocolate is made from these beans.  But the chocolate bars that you buy, for the most part, contain not one iota of the cacoa bean.   Unless you indulge in real chocolate, you are not receiving any of the following benefits:

Raw cacoa has the highest anti-oxidant properties of ANY food in the world!    It has anti-aging and anti-inflammatory properties, it is a good source of magnesium, sulphur, calcium, iron, zinc, copper, potassium, manganese and some B vitamins.

 

Sulfur helps build strong hair and nails, promotes healthy and beautiful skin, helps detoxify the liver and helps healthy functioning of the pancreas.

I could go on ... but the bottom line is, it's a superfood.  Now ... you can find information out there that chocolate is a toxic and dangerous substance and that it will do harmful things to your body and become addictive.  But I've only found one source claiming this and countless others touting the wonders and joy of chocolate.

Since I have been experiencing the mood-lifting benefits of the crazy cacoa wonder all morning, I am less inclined to believe that it is bad for me.  I do know that if I eat too much of it or too late in the day I won't sleep.  There is no argument from me that it is a stimulant.  But what is wrong with feeling fabulous every now and again?  As for addictive ... well.  I can choose not to eat it and have since those sleepless nights!

But it sure does taste good.

Here is a raw fudge recipe that is super easy and will have you swinging from the chandelier and smiling despite yourself!

Raw Fudge

1/2 cup raw chocolate powder (raw cacoa powder)

1/2 cup raw coconut butter (oil)

1/2 cup raw honey

All of these ingredients can be found at a health food store or in most grocery stores.

Mix all ingredients in a pan (warm it slightly if necessary as the coconut butter/oil will be a solid as will the honey)

Press into a 5X5 container and then chill in the fridge for an hour.

And then ... swoon!

When an obsession becomes a reality!

I think I am officially deranged.

I just bought tickets to see Twilight for Friday.  Like the first packed showing.  

I NEVER do this.

In fact, I am against it!  I think it is foolish -- all things can wait.

Except for this.

And ... I CAN'T wait!

Too many shoes, or not enough?

No, this post is not about The Secret -- but it's about ideas and attraction and my overwhelming feeling of certainty that the world is not coming to an end.

I have, as many readers know, not been this optimistic over the past year.  I latched on to any one particular subject and followed it down to its worst-case-scenario, fully believing that peak oil would decimate us, or everyone would die of cancer or whatever else I got caught up in.

Those things are all still true -- but they don't HAVE to be our destiny.  We are all in charge of our own futures -- and we can choose whatever path we want to take. 

Peak Oil is a fact.  But as we now know, the oil industry is incredibly volatile.  We were paying double at the pumps a few months ago.  But all it took was a few adjustments, and suddenly the demand on oil went down enough to balance out the supply and demand war.  Seriously, some how every one of us made some type of change that affected this, even if it was a change that really didn't change your life.

It is infinitesimal changes across a grand scale that can make a grand change.

If you don't want cancer in your life, then you can stop ingesting cancer-causing agents on a daily basis and instead eat foods that will armor your body to guard against what is really an inevitable disease for anyone who eats the standard american diet.

Again, with teeny tiny changes, this too can be done.

I can hear a dozen analysts screaming that I don't know what I'm talking about, that historically this and historically that, blah blah blah.

That's fine.  I'm not an expert, I will admit that.  But I know what I know and I know this without a shadow of a doubt:  We NEED this, this world in turmoil.  We NEED it as our wake-up call, we need to STOP eating crap and buying crap ... and the only way to get some people to do this is to make it impossible for them.  And that is by taking away their buying power -- or their money, if only for a short while, so they can slowly start to GET IT.

I will admit I am a bit of a hypocrite in this whole conversation.  I still buy stuff.  I still buy stuff I do NOT need.  It's a hard habit to break.  I am always amazed when I am in a store (and I will say that I don't go in on my own accord, I am almost ALWAYS with someone else who is, while not making me go, certainly providing me with a situation I wouldn't put myself in on my own) I can't believe how much stuff there is that appeals to me!  I have my buttons.  I love pocketbooks and jewelry and soft materials and cool gadgets and things that sparkle.

But I've bought enough things over the years to know that I just plain don't need them.  That I can live without them.  When I find something I like, I don't think about it at all.  I just buy it.  I have never wasted precious moments of my life wondering the pros and cons of something.  It is as simple as if I want it and seem to have a need, then that is fine.

The other day while shopping I wanted one thing.  I wanted shoes.  Now, I most certainly do not NEED shoes.  I have loads of them.  But I had decided that I would use these shoes (and I knew exactly what type I wanted, what brand and what color) as a reward for reaching a milestone.  Before we reached the shoe store, my sister and I went into this shop that has all the wonderful pocketbooks, jewelry, soft materials and cool gadgets and things that sparkle and I was of course infected with the fever.  I wanted.

But what?

I've blogged before about my perfect pocketbook, which was slung across my shoulder.  But it wasn't so perfect that day because my sunglass holder didn't really fit in it.  I was feeling a bit put out at its slight imperfection, and I am sure that it was no coincidence that there was an entire WALL of pocketbooks that were just screaming my name.

It was bedlam I tell ya!  I started to try them on.  And I settled on one that seemed perfect!  Perfect!  Until my sister started pointing out that it was like a bag on sterioids.  Forget the perfect pockets on the front, that was only the tip of the iceberg.  The thing opened up in three different places, it had multiple zippers and snaps and it opened to the left and it opened to the right ... and well ... you'd never be able to find a damn thing in it!  It was like the castle of pocketbooks -- full of hallways that you'd never really need to go down.  Just point me to the kitchen please.

I felt bereft.  No pocketbook today?  Really?  I hadn't been shopping in weeks, months even!  But then I said to myself no, you are getting something today.  You are getting shoes!

As I was buying a birthday present I noticed these fabulous earrings on the counter.  Made of some Amazon tree, they were really, really cool.  Then my mind flashed to the earring tree on my bathroom counter at home.  FULL of so many earrings I could wear a new pair everyday for months.  Seriously.  I have a lot of earrings.  And bracelets.  And rings.  I just have.  A lot.

So I bought the shoes and instantly felt gratified.  I asked for my size in the color I wanted, put them on my feet, stood up and said I'd take them.  I wore them out of the store and never looked back.  I love those shoes.

I love them because they are not only a reminder of the milestone I intended them for, but they also remind me that I **am** capable of just buying one thing -- that I don't have to instantly gratify every "need" that comes my way, because you know, I never would have loved that pocketbook.  And I have loads of pocketbooks.  I could change pocketbooks everyday for a few weeks too.  I just have.  A lot.

Anyway, so as our economy tanks, I am cool with that because I only need food, I don't need an abundance of stuff because I already have it!  I didn't personally need this lesson myself, because I was already on this path ... it was becoming a natural progression of the type of changes I needed to make, both physical and spiritual.

Because stuff bogs you down.  It really does.  Everything bogs you down in one way or another.

I had my hair cut to feel free.  I could only go so far, but I had this overwhelming urge to cut my hair for the freedom of it.

I changed my diet and I feel free.  Which makes no sense, but something clicked for me, and it ultimately made me realize that I am free from the pull of food.  All food really.

Charlie made chicken and cheese grinders (I invented them because we all loved steak and cheese grinders and when I gave up red meat, we all wanted to keep this wonderful food alive!) last night and the smell was incredible.   So in my mind I ate one.  I could taste exactly what it would taste like ... right down to the mayo on the roll, the slimy feel of the onions and peppers coated in melted cheese, the softness of the bits of chicken as I bit into them.  It was delicious.  And then I watched as everyone ate theirs.  It was mindless.  They were just putting the food in their mouths, chewing and going for the next bite.  There was no doubt in my mind that I had enjoyed that grinder a hundred times more than they did ... in my mind!

We're so numb to everything after all these years of too much, that the only thing that is going to make people wake up is a crisis of immense proportions.

But each and every one of us can control that proportion, by keeping things in proportion.  Because you can ultimately have everything you want -- you just have to want it with pure intention.  And that's when it gets tricky ... because then you have to go deeper inside yourself than you have to when you have enough money at your disposal to just buy everything you want because just maybe, maybe one of those things will meet your wants and you don't even have to try to think about it.

And that begins the great disconnect.

Think about all the mixed messages the universe hears.  The car industry is in grave danger.  They say we must bail them out too because of all the jobs that will be lost.  But wait ... do the worker's REALLY want their jobs?  That is why answers can't be packaged up neatly and problems solved overnight ... because ultimately, in the backs of many of the minds of these people who work on assembly lines, they are secretly happy at the thought of being FORCED out of a job they hate.  Out of a daily existence that has numbed them completely.  As long as there is negative energy mixed in ... it will dilute the solutions.  

Everyone has to think what THEY want.  What they REALLY want.  Yes, they want money to provide food and clothing for their families.  But how much money do they need?   People get locked into jobs for life based on these needs:  The need to provide.  But WHAT are they providing?  In many cases, empty lives that will be led by their children as well, because so many basics have been lost over the years.  We have forgotten that you don't NEED stuff to survive.  You just need food, shelter, some clothing (not closets full) and not 100's of pairs of shoes.

I know that all I want is the freedom to be free of stuff -- to not care about what type of car I drive or the clothes I wear or any of that.  And to a certain point, I have reached that.  But not completely -- I still have human thoughts!  (hahaha, sorry, reading too many vampire books). 

But mostly I want to know WHAT I want.  I want it to be intuitive, I want to believe that every choice I make is pure and not based in any of the emotions that tend to accompany our decisions.

It is what I intend.

Gawd I love my shoes.