Friday, December 31, 2010
Thursday, December 30, 2010
In honor of the local current outdoor conditions, I prepared a lunch of mostly white food. Milk, 1%. Roasted chicken on white buns, with Swiss cheese and just a schmere of mayo. I do admit that the potato chips are more yellow than white, but I read on the package that they are made from russet potatoes. And as we all know, once that pesky, russety peel is removed, the inner flesh of the potato is essentially white. Unless you leave it sitting exposed to the air too long, it then becomes a very unappetizing grayish brown. And while the snow on the prop tree is fake, a much, much larger live version of the tree just outside my patio door is indeed laden with the real stuff. Ah, winter.
Monday, December 27, 2010
Thursday, December 23, 2010
Feeling thoughtful. And a little sad. It's been years since I celebrated Christmas under the same roof as my mother, but this is the first Christmas without her among the living. She loved Christmas. I mean loved Christmas. She agonized over the gifts, the food, the decorating. And loved every minute of it. It was as though a perfect and happy holiday could and should make up for any and every shortcoming and disappointment of the previous year. She believed in the magic. In the days of broadcast television when there was just one opportunity, complete with commercial interruption, to catch Charlie Brown and the Grinch, she sat down and relished every moment of those cartoons along with us kids. She made fudge and caramels and delectible tiny butter spritz cookies. She baked yulekakke, a Norwegian sweet bread with raisins that was heavenly when toasted and spread with butter. When we decorated the tree, the four of us kids took turns placing the ornaments on the branches, saving a tiny plastic Santa for last. After that, only she had the patience to drape each individual strand of tinsel in its own special spot. Tomorrow night I'll attempt to make sweet and sour spareribs just like Mom did for Christmas Eve dinner. It will be just me and my younger son at the table, but the spirit of Christmases past will be there, too. Thanks, Mom, for passing your love of this holiday on to me. For the magic. And the memories.
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
Physical therapy is working! In only six sessions my flexibility and range of motion have improved and the hypersensitivity around the incision is much better. My physical therapist is located in a clinic where a number of doctors practice. On my way back to the PT dept I walk through a couple of other waiting rooms where patients are, well, waiting. How patiently I'm not sure. I also see other patients in the main hallway and waiting to check in or to make future appointments. And it strikes me as somewhat odd when I pass or meet these people who are variously wearing masks, in wheelchairs, or tending to sad or crying tots, that I actually feel pretty darn good! What am I doing here, with a spring in my step and smiling, when all these others are miserable? With the exception of the tedinitis in my hands and wrists that is currently being treated, I am in excellent health. For which I am grateful, particularly when I encounter those who are obviously suffering. My affliction is annoying and limits what I can do, but it isn't life threatening. And with time and effort, I expect to recover completely. I feel a bit like Forrest Gump, who got out of his tour of duty in Viet Nam with a wound to his butt. Certainly not pleasant, but as a ticket out, much less costly than, say, the loss of a limb or an eye. A million dollar wound, I think they called it. It still seems weird to me that I've been off work since the middle of August. Perhaps in the Work Comp world, where I currently reside, tendinitis is the combat equivalent of a bullet wound in the buttocks. Which leaves me to wonder what is in store inside that next chocolate I bite into.
Monday, December 20, 2010
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Where do I begin. Last night I had the strangest dream! Let's approach this from a strictly linguistic angle. Since I'm a word fanatic this seems reasonable, if only for the moment. Mary Jane is a slang term for marijuana, it is also the name for a style of shoe. The shoe was originally designed as a flat with a rounded toe and a strap across the instep. Often fashioned in black patent leather, it was intended as a dress shoe for little girls. The Mary Jane shoe has grown into all sorts of stylistic variations for girls of all ages, sometimes retaining only the strap, or two or three, detail from the original. But this isn't about shoes, it's about my dream about shoes. Shoes and marijuana. In my dream I was trying on shoes in a department store. I was admiring a sparkly, crimson pair of high heel clogs that were on display and was waiting for the clerk to bring them out in a 7 1/2. When I put them on, I instantly experienced a sense of euphoria and happiness and was dancing about in front of a mirror. The clerk told me that the Mary Janes were $5000. I didn't quibble about the price, I did tell him that they were not Mary Janes, they were clogs. He grinned and showed me the box, that clearly showed the style as Mary Jane, clog, in the color scarlet. If you are at all familiar with women's shoes, then you know how styles are given names, often feminine. Case in point, the Mary Jane. I was confused. It seems they were a special type of orthopedic shoe, that could only be purchased with a prescription. The shoes were infused with medical marijuana! Shoes as a pharmaceutical delivery device! In retrospect, just over a week ago I was in the shoe department at Nordstrom. Where I was introduced not to Mary Jane, but to Paul Green. In the form of a gorgeous brown suede slouchy boot. In the Cherry Creek Mall in Denver. Colorado. Where medical marijuana is legal. Somehow, then, this information was deconstructed and reassembled in the twisted labyrinth of my synapses, resulting in last night's dream. I must admit to having felt a euphoric rush when trying on the boots, and retain a somewhat giddy feeling over the fact that I own them. They were, after all, one of only two pairs remaining on the clearance racks. When I wear them I do feel elated. If I'm not dancing on the outside, I'm most definitely dancing internally. Which probably translates to the release of pheromones and endorphins. Which are the body's own naturally occurring opiates. When you're this happy in your own shoes, that's got to be a good thing.
Monday, December 13, 2010
Not only should a wine be delicious, I think it ought to have an entertaining as well as memorable label. Recently, I could not for the life of me recall the name Candoni. I could remember that the wine in question was an Italian pinot grigio with some dancing Roman looking guys on the label, but the brand name eluded me. Also that the label wasn't rectangular and glued onto the bottle, but that it was sort of plastic-y and melded with the bottle. Fortunately, I found this wine in my local beverage store just this afternoon. Meaning, at least when it comes to dancing ethnic fellows on wine bottles, I am most certainly not delusional.
Sunday, December 12, 2010
Zaidy's is a genuine Jewish deli, located in Denver, CO. They have an absolutely amazing full menu, but we were there for coffee and goodies. I was undecided about what to order until our waitress said there was something special...a cheesecake containing cranberries, walnuts and I don't know what else. What I do know is that the woman who creates these luscious baked goods dreamed about this cheesecake and then whipped it up the next day. Dreamed it! I had to have some!
Kristin and Deanna had goodies as well. Kristen opted for the chocolate layer cake with chocolate frosting. Deanna went for the classic cheesecake. Freshly brewed coffee arrived at the table. Gastronomic nirvana ensued.
Saturday, December 11, 2010
The blue and silver tree in the living room. With the big blue beacon snowflake in the background. Beyond the window is the wintry and frigid outdoors.
A tiny living room with a tiny tree and tiny fireplace. Expecting, I would expect, a tiny Santa Claus.
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
Sunday, December 5, 2010
Saturday, December 4, 2010
Friday, December 3, 2010
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
Sunday, November 28, 2010
Thursday, November 25, 2010
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
After approximately 27 hours in the car, I have stopped for the night in Van Horn, Texas. What is special about this little town, you might be asking. For one thing, the Hotel El Capitan. I enjoyed a most delicious as well as enormous shrimp cocktail at the bar and restaurant. And beer. And carrot cake. I'm going to do this more often. Have a great appetizer, then skip the meal, and proceed directly to dessert, and accompany it all with an appropriate beverage or two. I also enjoyed the company of fellow hotel guests Veronica and Jeff. They live in Tucson, which is where I will be tomorrow. I had to drive a little further to get here, but it's not a competition.
Sunday, November 21, 2010
Saturday, November 20, 2010
That's my left hand. I wear three little silver bracelets on my left wrist, I rarely take them off. Partly because I'm lazy, partly because there's really no need to. And partly because they're a talisman of sorts, each one has come to represent an aspect of time to me. From the left they are past, present, and future. Past is in a chain style called Figaro. At the time that I purchased it, a little over five years ago, I was mired in the past, feeling unable to move forward. I hadn't named it then, I just liked it and wore it. Several months earlier, I had stopped wearing my wedding and anniversary bands, both of which were yellow gold. My ring finger felt naked and I started wearing my white gold class ring to fill the empty space. I liked how Figaro looked with it, and switching from yellow to white felt like making a statement about moving on. I started calling Figaro Past about a year ago, when I bought the bracelet in the center, and started considering the Present in my life. Sort of a taking stock of where I was and how I got there. The style of chain is called a beaded snake, which I quite like since the snake is a symbol of feminine power. I'd look at the two chains nestled together on my wrist and feel like something was missing. Obviously I needed a bracelet to represent the Future, and chose the twisted rope style to complete the set. It seemed appropriate, the twisted silver strands echoing how time spirals out in front of us, leading us to who knows where. I've been pondering questions and answers of late, as well as the passage of time. How they're related and tangled up together. How answers seem crystal clear in hindsight. Sometimes startlingly obvious in the present. And how they render the future less murky and easier to face. When I wear a watch, it is always on my left wrist, settling in among the Past, Present and Future. And it only now occurred to me why they make such comfortable and compatible companions.
Friday, November 19, 2010
Thursday, November 18, 2010
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Several years ago, hand written on the inside of a Christmas card, was this sentence. There are years that ask questions and years that answer. I liked the thought, and have had that card hanging up on my bulletin board ever since. It occurred to me just now to google this pithy phrase to see who, if anyone, it might be attributed to. And her name is Zora Neale Hurston. She said many, many amazing things. Like this...Love makes your soul crawl out from its hiding place. And this...Research is formalized curiosity. It is poking and prying with a purpose. And this...Those that don't got it, can't show it. Those that got it, can't hide it. But for me, it is that first quote that speaks to me with such significance and relevance. This is a year of answers I am living. Not always answers that I want to hear, but often what I need to hear. Maybe I'm paying attention where I was earlier neglectful. Or maybe I'm just finally ready to know and internalize and embrace this information that's finding its way to me. I do know that I have been surprised by some answers, blindsided by others. Comforted. Relieved. Ready to move on. Discovering you, Zora Neale Hurston, has turned out to be an answer in itself.
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Adorable Tony seems to have mistaken me for the birthday girl. I went along with it so he wouldn't feel like he committed a social faux pas, I hate for anyone to feel uncomfortable at a party. And then there was the matter of Tony bordering on gorgeous. And since you asked, yes, Tony is a fabulous kisser. He told me that I'm so beautiful that he forgot he has a girlfriend. Sigh. I shall probably never see him again. But if I do, I expect I'll have to kiss him again, if only to remind him of how we met. An odd bit of trivia for those of you who aren't distracted by Tony, God knows I was...my former husband designed that scoreboard hanging on the wall. Cubby's is, after all, a sports bar. In any case, it seems that the clock has run down to zero and the score is 33 to 29. I love it when the home team wins.
Monday, November 15, 2010
Sunday, November 14, 2010
2. Since they've already assumed I have one, why would they assume it isn't functioning properly and would require volume discounts on genuine Viagra and Cialis?
3. Wouldn't finding an apartment and needing renter's insurance cancel out buying a forclosed-upon home, and then needing a VA loan? Assuming I'm a veteran.
4. I suppose if I qualify to buy a house, I might be in need of kitchen cabinets, driveway paving, quality roofing and rain gutters, and a beautiful, healthy lawn. I expect I'll be needing that pesky Credit Score as well.
5. Not only are there singles in my area wanting to meet me and/or chat with me, they also are available in the Naughty, Nice, Jewish, Over 50, and Lonely varieties.
6. If I should manage to hook up with one of these singles, I might just need a Beautiful Engagement Ring.
7. Before I make any meaningful decision about anything, I'm sure I ought to consult Bethea, my personal psychic. And buy amulets. And love potions. Perhaps lottery ticket numbers.
8. We certainly don't want to risk losing contact with Kim, MagicJack, and trisha184, who have all recently changed their email addresses.
9. If the Statewide Job Scam involves Ultrasound Technicians and Certified Nursing Assistants, maybe I should opt for qualifying for the Social Security Disability Claim.
10. If I should be so fortunate to latch onto one of those FREE Ipads or 4G cell phones, I expect I'll be needing to update my Wireless Internet, and get in on that Bargain Ink and Toner sale.
Saturday, November 13, 2010
Friday, November 12, 2010
Dear Mr Cutie-Pie,
Thank you so much for your recent rude and cowardly behavior. This renders you ever so genuinely unattractive in my esteem. Meaning that I will no longer be bothering you with friendly emails and no longer participate in stimulating conversations on politics, music, and the state of the world in general. Should you be interested in contacting me in the future to explain, rationalize, or apologize for this lack of decorum, I shall do my best to listen with an open mind that is free of judgment. Again, I am grateful to you for inadvertently (or intentionally?) revealing your baser side to me.
Ever so truly yours,
The Recalcitrant Goddess
Thursday, November 11, 2010
When I saw today's title in the subject line of the email, I knew what the alluded important information would be in reference to. And all I have to say is, at least this time, it was not due to the pottymouth behavior of yours truly. Really. The body of said email appears below. With any possible identifying references removed or altered to protect the innocent. Or guilty. Honestly, people, let's clean it up! Or keep your fucking pie hole shut! Then again, I thought it inappropriate last spring when a higher management person inquired as to whether or not I was wearing panties. Which, after all, was none of this person's goddamn business. I was informed that since the incident occurred off of company property and was a social occasion, said policy did not apply. Silly me! Naturally, the location of the incident rendered the remark perfectly respectful, professional, positive, and absolutely free of harassment and hostility. And all I have to say about that is, most emphatically, bullshit.
Inappropriate language, such as profanity, sexual comments/jokes, derogatory comments, etc., does not contribute to promoting a positive work environment at Our Company. This type of language is not professional and is not acceptable at Our Company. Employees are expected to display professional, appropriate conduct, which includes showing courtesy and respect towards coworkers. Behavior that is personally offensive, fails to respect the rights of others, lowers moral and interferes with our work effectiveness is not acceptable here in our workplace.
Be conscientious of your words and actions and be respectful to your coworkers.
Our Company makes every effort to provide a work environment free from all forms of harassment. The company Anti-Harassment Policy can be found on pages 14-15 of the Employee Handbook. Our Company has employee guidelines for appropriate conduct and those guidelines are listed on pages 48-49 of the Employee Handbook. Review this information in your handbook or see your supervisor or myself if you have questions.
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
Happy Birthday Susie! I adore you! You rock! You wear forty ever so well. It was a privilege to hear you play live in August, 2003, at the legendary Surf Ballroom in Clear Lake, Iowa. I enjoyed the relaxed and intimate atmosphere at the Surf, we spent the second half of the show on the dance floor, often standing near the stage to listen, setting our beers on the edge of the stage while we danced. I particularly enjoyed you making up lyrics for Angel From Montgomery, singing that John Prine won't care, he'll never know 'bout you messin' up his song! Two girls managed to get past security and were up on the stage dancing. As they were being shown out of the building, you paused in the middle of the song and insisted they be allowed to stay. I also remember that tickets were only ten bucks! As we were entering, there was a young man on the sidewalk who was mulling as to whether he should part with the cash to see you, he wasn't familiar with your music. I turned to him and said even if it was fifty bucks, seeing you would be worth every penny! Later in the evening, he came up to me and thanked me. It's been too long since then, hope to see you soon.
Monday, November 8, 2010
Sunday, November 7, 2010
Saturday, November 6, 2010
Friday, November 5, 2010
Facebook has just informed me that my account is under maintenance and is currently unavailable, check back in a few hours. This is pitiful. I feel cut off from the world! Now they'll probably make me pay to get access. Or be subjected to some sort of twisted and shameful initiation ceremony. I can't breathe! I'm having a panic attack! I'm going through withdrawal! Soylent Green is people! Wait, maybe this lightheaded feeling has more to do with the fact that it is over seven hours since I've eaten anything. Perhaps my blood sugar is tanking. Never mind.
Thursday, November 4, 2010
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
I am officially in mourning. Not so much for the results of yesterday's election, but for the decline and death of idealism, accuracy, fair play, and reasonable solutions to the myriad problems in this country. I just may move to Minnesota so I can proudly proclaim that Al Franken is my senator! Just not to District 6, the stronghold of Michelle Bachmann. Too bad, I kind of like St. Cloud. I remain astonished that political upsTART Kristi Noem has unseated the intelligent, thoughtful, and estimable Stephanie Herseth Sandlin.
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Monday, November 1, 2010
Sunday, October 31, 2010
The bars were packed full with costumed merry makers last night. Yes, I know that it was merely Halloween Eve, but we did stay out past midnight, so technically it was Halloween. Earlier on, when Reid and I stopped for burgers and sweet potato fries at Cubby's, there were already people out in costume. Most notably, a ten or so
foot tall fellow with lit up red eyes and horrifying electronically assisted vocalizations who appeared to be a ghoulish Bigfoot. I was relieved that he was too tall to follow us inside. Later on, there was the usual assortment of zombies, vampires, and slutty versions of French Maids, brides, gypsies, cheerleaders, and gun molls. We ended up sitting with one of my personal favorites of the evening, Georgiana and Chris dressed
quite adorably as Raggedy Ann and Andy. Other favorites were Gumby and Pokey, who had to remove their heads to drink. Probably the most remarkable costume of the evening was our robotic favorite from Futurama, Bender. Complete with cigar. Another favorite was this guy dressed up like Ace Ventura. He had it all going on, Hawaaian print shirt, goofy pompadour 'do, and a rubbery expressive face rivaling Jim Carrey's original. I was quite amused. Seeing a guy in a rather lame cow costume reminded me that I have a terrific bovine get-up. I'm feeling inspired to put the final touches on it for next year! I can see it now! MooBoo! I can hand out Milk Duds and Milky Way candy bars! I do love Halloween.
Saturday, October 30, 2010
Friday, October 29, 2010
Thursday, October 28, 2010
For this girl, the worst part of the mammogram has always been removing those horrible, and horribly sticky, pasties. I never was of the opinion that I needed to exfoliate my nipples. And it seemed those nasty little pasties did just that. Their purpose was to clearly identify the nipple tissue, which is more dense than other breast tissue. More dense or thickening of breast tissue can be a sign of trouble in there, so the pasties with a little metal ball inside were used as an indicator of normal but dense tissue. Enter digital mammography! And those evil little sticky things are no longer necessary! Yesssssss! And October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month, so for once I'm taking care of this bit of feminine business during its designated month. Now that the dreaded pasties are a thing of the past, maybe I won't be so reluctant to do this annually. Although next October I'll probably be saying, what, already? Time flies when you procrastinate.
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Monday, October 25, 2010
When a friend flies in from Australia and has been awake for 36 hours, the obvious thing to do is take him to International Night at Jim's Tap. Then he snaps a photo of you leaning before you've had your first drink. Welcome to Brookings, Lloyd!
Later, we introduce Lloyd to midwestern American delicacies like mac & cheese, pheasant chislic and pumpkin pie!
Instead of making the "kids" sit in the kitchen, they all gravitated towards the table set up in the living room. That was fine with me, the grown-up table was closer to the wine.
Sunday, October 24, 2010
Saturday, October 23, 2010
Patron is so beautifully packaged. Like lingerie from Macy's, it is carefully wrapped in tissue paper before being placed in its box.
Each bottle is identified with a hand written and initialed label to ensure the customer that it has been lovingly sealed in its bottle with professional expertise. Thank you, PSM. Bottle 1990155 shall be enjoyed.
Friday, October 22, 2010
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Behold! My newly acquired 1998 Subaru Forester! The lengths that I go to in order to have something interesting to blog about.
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
Dammit, I'm mad!
Resume so pacific a pose, muser.
Noel sees Leon.
Enid and Edna dine.
Won't lovers revolt now?
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
I slept just plain crappy last night! I observed some increment of every single overnight hour by the time I saw light creeping across the sky. And I wondered if there might be some cause and effect from reading a fellow blogger's detailed account of a sleepless night. But he was not to blame. Some nights, regardless of how tired I am, my inability to shut down my thought process gets in the way of slumber. For a number of months, my sleep pattern was more likely to be interrupted by the constant dull ache of tendinitis in my hands. Or once in a while, just for a little variety, I'd experience personal thermostatic fluctuations brought on by one of my favorite near constant companions, menopause. But last night's struggle for snoozing was due to a psychological ping-pong match between the logical/rational thinking side of my brain and the emotional/visceral side. Concerning my current post/pre surgical medical situation that is bandied back and forth between Work Comp insurance representatives (I'm on my fourth case worker, and they all seem to be functionally incapable of answering their phone or returning calls in answer to voicemails), my medical caretakers (who are more than competent and very caring), the local HR Specialist (yes, that's her title, though I can't say it's fitting...), and a nurse case manager (assigned to me by my company to advise me through my recovery from a work-caused injury). The net is a tightly drawn dividing line between approved and not approved, valid and not valid, allowed and dis-allowed. The thing is, I wasn't handed a rule book at the beginning, I expected to be properly advised by HR and the medical professionals who are in charge of my treatment. All of these entities seem to have a problem with sharing information, and I have signed a number of forms allowing them to do just that. And nothing seems to move forward unless I'm flying the bitch flag and get on the phone. I'm tired, and not just because last night was nearly sleepless. I'm tired of fighting this neverending battle between the bureaucracies. I would like to focus my energy on healing, on becoming well enough to return to work and have some normalcy in my life. This is practically impossible when I'm wondering why my disability pay has disappeared when I have bills to pay. The stress over all of these issues is an enormous distraction as well as detrimental to my overall health. I'd just like to know who is in my corner besides me.
Monday, October 18, 2010
Sunday, October 17, 2010
Saturday, October 16, 2010
Friday, October 15, 2010
Finally! Nietzsche made simple! A Nietzsche I can understand! In honor of his birthday, I am spreading to the masses his message in a relatable form. Thanks to Liz for sharing this link. Like her, I am finding I must continue to hit refresh for a new cartoon. Hmmm. I wonder what old Friedrich might make of that!
Thursday, October 14, 2010
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
The frosting, however, was home made. I avoid the ready-made frosting in a tub. Too many chemical sounding ingredients. And what goes better on a pumpkin spice cupcake than cream cheese frosting! And although my tendinitis plagued hands were very tired after all that piping, squeezing a pastry bag full of frosting turned out to be excellent post-surgical therapy. Like squeezing a stress ball, only tastier.
And here we have the final product, festively decorated for the fall. If you ask me, the only thing better than a cupcake with cream cheese frosting is one with candy on top.