2004

What did you do in 2004 that you'd never done before?

Went 120 mph on a motorcycle.

Did you keep your new years' resolutions and will you make more for next year?

Yes, I haven’t touched sushi all year. WooT.

Did anyone close to you give birth?

Yes, two adorable little babies. A friend of mine that I’ve known since I was 13 and my best friend had one. It’s awesome.

Did anyone close to you die?

No, not yet.

What countries did you visit?

I went through Texas. Does that count?

What would you like to have in 2005 that you lacked in 2004?

Someone who adores me, more $$ so it’s not so tight all the time, a motorcycle

What date from 2004 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?

July 15th. It’s when I got back to Colorado.

What was your biggest achievement of the year?

Trying out a career I’ve been interested in.

What was your biggest failure?

Not moving somewhere that I am happy with.

Did you suffer illness or injury?

Yes. I got this freaky stomach thing. The Dr.’s at Emory never figured it out and for the most part it’s gone, but every now and then comes back.

What was the best thing you bought?

Who knows? Ultimately it's just stuff.

Whose behavior merited celebration?

My children, because they are so awesome.

Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?

My ex-husband, George Bush, Tom™. I’ll keep my personal opinions on each one to myself. Fuckheads.

Where did most of your money go?

To making sure my kids are housed, fed and clothed.

What did you get really, really, really excited about?

Any one of my trips to SF

What song will always remind you of 2004?

Slackers~ have the time

Compared to this time last year, are you: happier or sadder?

Hard to say. Each year has a little of both.

thinner or fatter? same
richer or poorer? Poorer, Colorado is fucking expensive.

What do you wish you'd done more of?

Hiking or doing outdoors stuff w/ my children

What do you wish you'd done less of?

Wasting time on the phone w/ boys.

How will you be spending Christmas?

With my mom, aunt and cousins. My babies are going to Georgia.

Did you fall in love in 2004?

Yes. It hurt, thus the fall part.

What was your favorite TV program?

Overhauled (please someone tell them how rockin’ it would be for my Yeep to get overhauled. PLEASE!!! Yes, I’m begging.)

Do you hate anyone now that you didn't hate this time last year?

No, why bother wasting that much emotion.

What was the best book you read?

Stiff by Mary Roach

What was your greatest musical discovery of 2004?

Oh hell…um…um…just one? Too many ambient and downtempo groove things to even start naming just one.

What did you want and get?

A blog of my very own!

What did you want and not get?

A motorcycle and all the ecoutrements, true love (not to bleve)

What was your favorite film of this year?

Um………I “heart” Huckabees

What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?

I went to SF and partied my ass off w/ my friends. It rocked. I was 35.

What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?

Less drama regarding men. Next year fuck it.

How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2004?

Global Fusion

What kept you sane?

Who said anything about being sane?

Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?

Jason Statham, DUH!!

What political issue stirred you the most?

The fact that George Bush is less of an idiot than 51% of the population that re-elected him.

Who did you miss?

I will always miss my grandmother more than anyone I’ve ever known. She was my hero.

Who was the best new person you met?

This is an unfair question. Frisbee is right up there, though. She is an amazing person and really an amazing echo.

Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2004: Stop being so damn serious, and that it’s alright to be 100% honest to people you love. That was the hardest one, because it was so deeply ingrained that I had to deny being me, and now I don't. It's really wonderful to not have to try to be something that I'm not.

Quote a song lyric that sums up your year.

Times Like These (01) (Jack Johnson)
in times like thesein times like those
what will be will beand so it goes
and it always goes on and on
and on and on it goes
and theres always been laughing, crying, birth, and dying
boys and girls with hearts that take and give and break
and heal and grow and recreate and raise and nurture
but then hurt from time to times like these
and times like those
what will be will be
and so it goes
and there will always be stop and go and fast and slow
action, reaction, sticks and stones and broken bones
those for peace and those for war
and god bless these ones not those ones
but these ones made times like these
and times like those
what will be will be
and so it goes
and it always goes on and on
and on and on it goes
but somehow i know it wont be the same
somehow i know itll never be the same

poppies

This is a new version.

poppies

the sunset petals gone
poppies laughed in my garden, longing, lonely days since
their faces, smile and texture, no longer clear
slender bodies swaying to evening breezes, sensual memory

an old poem

Laughter

Reading poetry, the words so carefully

aligned and placed,

I can't help but feel the poets

hysterical over the jokes they've played.

To gain and graps the attention of thousands,

perhaps even more,

with the description of a though, a mood,

a dirty scene.

Certainaly they are all laughing

at me, and at you, as we

pry and prod for thoughts now past.

Can't you see the joke?

These thoughts, that perhaps mean nothing,

are past.

Why do you care how T.S. Elliot

metered his life?

Or that nobody was Emily D.

The tee-hee's invade every syllable, every word,

and resonate into a smile of my own.

I wrote that a long time ago.

My axis of evil

The U.S. has decided that there is this "Axis of Evil" out there. Countries that do stuff we don't like or agree with. I have decided that I have a list for my own personal "Axis of Evil." Here is the start:

George Bush
minivans
soccer moms
people who use the words "values" and "morals" as a basis for discrimination
sushi
hamsters
drivers who go lower than the speed limit in the left hand lane
liars
manipulators
U.S. foreign policy and the lack of
Donald Rumsfeld
clowns
free radicals
heartbreak
non-foodies, expand a little people
reality TV

Alright, that's a good start.

Online nicknames

Alright, while someone named Smoooochie probably doesn't have much room to talk I just want to pause and reflect on the nicknames people choose to use in online communities, chatrooms, etc.
First of all, stop with the damn "Matrix" names. How many people can be named after the characters in that movie? LOTS! If you like the movie that much be original and go with Keanu Lawrence, or CarryKickAss. For heaven's sakes at least it would be original. To be honest Morpheus just puts me to sleep. (eww...that was bad) Shit, for that matter if you have to name yourself after a famous movie character just give in and admit that you like to watch reruns of Barney, as well. (And no, Smoooochie has NOTHING to do w/ the movie...at ALL)
Secondly, if your name is something common, and I mean common like Tom, Dick, Dumbass, don't be just a Tom, a Dick or a Dumbass. Add an initial or something so that when people go to search for you later they don't come up with 8 pages of dumbasses to search through. Because quite frankly searching through 1 page of Dick...wait...searching through more than one page of Tom is way too much. (heh)
Lastly, it's 4 o's. Not three. Not 2. Not a whole freakin' line long. Just 4. It's really quite simple. So, much so that the guys at Starschmucks could get it so I know all these intelligent geeks who live on the web (yes, I'm talking about most of my pals and myself again) can figure it out.

Alright, I'm done w/ my rant. Move along to the next blog.

legos, lite brite and other little parts

The holiday has created a feeling of chaos that I would really have much rather avoided. All the cooking and preparation have led to feeling very behind in the rest of my daily activity. It was too much for too little return this year. I'm not saying that the time with my cousins wasn't enjoyable, but for me Thanksgiving day has always seemed a bit of an anti-climax to all the pre-day excitement. And now I just feel like I have forgotten to do something important and don't know what it is. So, I'll continue to go room to room cleaning the house, searching each crack and crevice for lite brite pieces, lego parts and whatever papers might have been set down because something more immediate came up. All of which just leads me to hoping that Christmas will be a different story. One with less chaos and anticipation of something fabulous that doesn't materialize. I'm hoping it doesn't sort of just evaporate like a pot of boiled water you actually intended for tea. Perhaps intention will save the day, but it's really hard to avoid the buy in of "stuff" when you have little ones. This is all just post-Thanksgiving frustration and hesitancy to move further into the season. The work, the effort and the chaos will perhaps pay off into something magical for me as well as my babies. As NeeNee would say, "Only time will tell."

Fatkins Rant

I actually posted this on Tribe.net, but was happy with it so I'm double posting it for all you non-Tribers (still don't understand that, but hey...whatevs)

Someone asked what was wrong w/ Fatkins. Well, I'll tell you my problem with it. How often have you gone into a restaurant you really like and the menu has changed to satisfy kosher or vegan diets? Now how often have restaurants jumped on the bandwagon to satisfy Fatkins? Have you ever been on a nice dinner date only to have your date pick their food apart just so they don't get one fucking carb? Trust me, it sort of ruins the meal. If it were something that people just did rather than crusaded it would fine, but it's not that way. It's a marketing crusade and it's fucking annoying. "They don't have low carb beer here. Can we go to another bar?" NO! Shut the fuck up and have WATER. grrrr... *steps off the soapbox*

If that's not enough for you check out www.illwillpress.com click on toons and see Foamy (my lord and master) rant away about the evils of Fatkins.

A new version of an old photo. Thanks Yanni! 

Stand up

Someday when I get brave or stupid enough I'm going to do an amateur night at a comedy club. Here's part of the act.

"Have you ever noticed that the people who push the wheelchairs at the airports are only about one step from needing to be the ones in the wheelchairs? It's as if they took all the Wal-mart greeters that could actually walk farther than 50 feet and gave them the better paying "wheelchair pusher" position at the airport. In Memphis they appear to have only had one candidate so they just cloned her. I swear I saw the same woman walk by going the same direction 3 times in a five minute period."

tea time

There are few things as comforting as a nice cup of hot tea or as refreshing as cold glass of iced tea. That being said there are few more product more ridiculously marketed than tea. Who are these people that create the marketing? It’s like watching a really bad soap opera on Spanish television. I realized this as I was having a cup of “Bengal Spice” and writing an e-mail the other night. I realized that “Bengal Spice” sort of sounds like tiger piss and regardless of how yummy that tea is (it’s goooood) I couldn’t get the thought out of my head.
The marketing is primarily on the boxes of tea rather than in other more common means of media. I have rarely seen a commercial or advert for tea here in the U.S. The boxes are really quite amazing, and granted there are some dull boxes of tea but not as many as really snazzy ones. The boxes invariably have witty or thoughtful quotes, drawings on them that give you a sense of how the tea will make you “feel”, and then to top it off ridiculous descriptions of the tea. One of my favorites (descriptions, not the tea) is, “A single cup of ###### has been known to have the same effect as sitting for 45 minutes in a mountain meadow on a sunny day with your shoes off.” So, if you sit for 45 minutes with your shoes on you cannot get the same effect as this tea. And if you sit for 50 minutes or 40 minutes or anything other than 45 minutes you will not get the same effect as this tea. It’s VERY specific. Or this one at the end of a paragraph describing the ingredients, “Tuck yourself into a private nook, and escape to an enchanting land of pure natural indulgence.” Oh for fuck’s sake. It’s not even real TEA!! It’s just a bunch of dried orange rinds and spices left over!
You know that brings me to a solid point. Actual tea doesn’t dress up to make you want it. “Strong Tea. Great Value.” How is that for straight forward? I think the marketing people just figure if you wanted a cozy getaway you’d just sip on some trail mix steeped in water, but if you want TEA you will have TEA!
And with that I’m off to go have a bath. It will be Smoooochie Tea. Ew…

wtf? I need a hobby. 

grey day sashes

The greyness of the day has settled into the half-hearty snow we received over the past day and a half. The mood fits the crooning of Jack Johnson coming from the beige speakers connected to my beige computer. Or is it putty? Either way it’s as non-descript as the outline of the grass outside. Sparse blades of grass prickle through their downy cover. I haven’t been outside this morning, but am sure that the sounds are clear and crisp as if to mock the grey, cloudy surrounding. It’s a pleasant and expected contrast that those in snowy regions take for granted, just as those in warm climes take thunderstorms as par for the course rather than something special. Today resembles my constitution as I’m in a fit of putty and bland. I want some excitement; a little bit of red in my plethora of grey. But what? A movie? Reading all day with some hot beverage by my side? A pad of paper and my thoughts? Only the day will tell and in it’s muted state I suspect that it won’t give me an answer. So, it’s up to me to create a gash on this blank sheet. Isn’t that the way?

I’m off to buy paper. I have ink and water colors. It’s time.

In Memory of~

My best friend died 7 years ago today. I was fortunate to have her in my life and even more fortunate that she was not only my dearest friend, but my grandmother. Here is the eulogy I wrote for her.

"11/14/97

Trying to capture NeeNee into words is trying to capture a smell or a feeling. Wherever she went there was home. Now that she has past we have to find that part of ourselves, that essence of her, and reconstruct and redefine it to find our home. It is not that our home was lost. It has been altered and can be found by the recollection of the large and minute conversations, interactions, hugs, handholds and kisses. The pain of loss seems somehow to collect the years of memories and flash them before our eyes as if we were the ones about to pass. Does this composite of recollection form a myth or does it solidify what we knew the truth to be? Either way it is this that we carry with us of our lost one into the future. We were so lucky that NeeNee gave us the strength, love and the ability to learn to help us redefine our lives without her.
Where does this leave us? Not as the limbs of a tree whose trunk has died, but as a diamond formed by turmoil, pressure, and difficulty. NeeNee was always the center, but now we must form a chain, each link being connected to form a whole."

I love you, NeeNee. I will miss you always.

Not for the feint of heart

This first link is really something I would suggest people not reading if the "F" word offends them. However, it's pretty fucking hilarious and pretty fucking accurate as well. http://www.fuckthesouth.com/

Secondly, I watched a dentist drill and pull and prod and bloody my little girls mouth today. For the most part I was o.k., but when they were fitting the caps on her teeth and I could see the gums just taking a beating and then a little bloody spit sort of shot out onto her lip I really about lost it. So, rather than look like I was going to lose it I just closed my eyes and stretched. I think if it had been anyone else it wouldn't have phased me much. Still, that was my baby they were working on. She was a true champ though. She's been moaning about not getting to eat anything of substance, so that's a good sign.

I'm reading this book called Stiff. I think I mentioned it before. It is so hilarious. This woman is talking about corpses and yet I find myself laughing harder than I have at a book in some time. I really would type an excerpt, but it would have to be quite a long one as it seems she goes back sometimes several paragraphs to make a joke about her initial point. Oh alright...I'll do it. In this passage she is in a room w/ 40 cadaver heads. Yes, just heads. There are 80 or so surgeons brushing up on their face lifting skills and being instructed by some of "America's top face-lifters."

'"Isolate the brow as a skin island." The narrator speaks slowly, in a flat tone. I'm sure the idea is to sound niether excited and delighted at the prospect of isolating skin islands, nor overly dismayed. The net effect is that he sounds chemically sedated, which seems to me like a good idea.'

Anyway, the book is a delight an not nearly as morbid as it might sound. And on that note I'm off to read about what they used to do with the cadavers AFTER they were done with them back in the 1800's (remember what they made the soap with in Fight Club?)

Look at her BUTT!! It's just so...

If I've ever met you in person I probably have checked out your butt. That's right. I have probably checked out your ass. Why? I don't know. It isn't based on sexual attraction, but more out of curiosity and comparison. It's something I just DO. I notice everyone's ass and I mean everyones. Maybe it's because people are always commenting on mine, even in a tongue in cheek sort of way, but maybe I am just overly aware of bums because mine seems to, at some point, end up the topic of conversation.
It gets even worse because I tend to point out butts to whomever I am with. "Hey, check out that girl's ass. Those jeans look great on her." or "OMG, does he even have an ass? It looks like two legs and a back." I have had mixed reactions from friends, but for the most part I think my pals expect things like this from me. It's o.k. They do weird things like whistle to cars expecting them to follow them home, take three hour long baths, or knit during business meetings.
Even so, I do try to contain this "observational habit" to merely glancing when around family members or business associates. Well, at least I don't make comments. I mean saying, "Wow, you've got a great ass!" to my cousin's boss would just be awkward and even a little weird for me. Please note I've never seen my cousin's bosses ass. That was merely an example. However, I would definitely take a look.

"Why I love the authors I do." a blog entry by Smoooochie

One of my favorite authors of all time is Neil Gaiman. He has entertained me and delighted me in his darkness and light, his fantastical and thoughtful. Even better he makes me laugh. Here is one entry to his blog I'd forgotten that did just that. (www.neilgaiman.com)

'Friday, June 11, 2004 Whales, beavers, unborn rabbits and barnacle geese, actually posted by Neil Gaiman 6/11/2004 10:17:34 PM I need to start listening while I'm talking. I was having an incredibly respectable telephone conversation with an extremely respectable person this afternoon, and the subject wandered over to Basque whalers, the way that it does, and I was explaining that whale meat was one of the few red meats that the Catholic church historically allowed to be eaten on Fridays and during Lent. "And, oddly enough, beaver was classified as a fish too," I explained earnestly and helpfully and accurately. "So on Fridays and during Lent people used to eat beaver." There was the sound over the phone of a very respectable and respected person making a sputtering sort of snorting noise, and I noticed that statement was capable of meaning rather more than I'd meant it to... '

Another of my favorites is a actually a friend of Gaimans. I didn't know this until much after I'd begun reading him. He is Jonathan Carroll, an expatriate who resides in Vienna. I have only just started reading his blog, but have read the majority of his books. However, I'm so not going to type out any of my favorite passages. Just trust me on this one. "Outside the Dog Museum" is one of the most amusing, thoughtfully books I've read. Period. Not read in the last however long. Just ever. Read it. Go..now..the library has it. (http://www.jonathancarroll.com/indexframes.html)

I like this one. 

a ramble about some of this and that

This morning was rough. Awakened at 6:51 on a Saturday after staying up much too late reading. Still a couple cups of coffee and a few handfuls of tropical trailmix and the world seems a better place. Even better the weather channel is predicting an unseasonable 77 degrees. WooT! THAT is one of the delights of Colorado. You'll have snow on Monday and by saturday you are back in shorts.
I'm listening to Nora Jones and sort of recollecting some of the things I read last night. Still reading "A Confederacy of Dunces" by John Kennedy Toole. I'm making a real push though because I have a couple library books I checked out last week that I want to get on. Even more so because the book I put on reserve came in. The library here seems to be the most progressive part of the town. I actually get e-mail notifications! Shock and suprise. I'm getting "Stiff: the Curious Lives of Human Cadavers" by Mary Roach. I've been wanting to read that book since it came out and just haven't. I'll let you know if it's a real live one or not. heh

Alright, so Ignatius in "CoD" wrote a letter to this girl who is rather offensive and brash, but most likely the only human on the planet that would consider having sex with his mass of pink, jiggly flesh. She was saying that she was going to start doing lectures at the Y on one of her crackpot save the world ideas. His response:
"On the dark night of that dubious lecture, the sole member of your audience will probably be some desperately lonely male librarian who saw the light in the window of the lecture hall and hopefully came in to escape the cold and the horrors of his personal hell. There in the hall, his stooped figure sitting alone before the podium, your nasal voice echoing among the empty chairs and hammering boredom, confusion, and sexual reference deeper and deeper into the poor wretch's bald skull, confounded to the point of hysteria, he will doubtlessly exhibit himself, waving his crabbed organ like a club in despair against the grim sound that drones on and on over his head."

This image sort of both made me cringe and laugh at the same time. Sometimes life is like that. Both a trainwreck and amusing at the same time. It's at those times you can just stare and laugh I think.

I realized this morning that my world has seemed rather non-descript and somewhat without form since I moved here. It's been like living with a continuous torrential rain. However, it isn't at all without form or construct. I was wrong. I am just caught up in a storm of change and indecision. The monsoon season will soon be over I'm hoping and I will be able to see the true solidity of what MY world is made of. All through it I've had strong, wonderful friends and family supporting me. What a lucky gal I am. I say that sort of off the cuff, but it's really true.

On the brink

Where did all this stuff come from? How did my house get full of stuff AGAIN!!!??? I just moved and already I feel the need to have a garage sale. How does this happen in the span of 3 months? I don't want all this crap in my house. I want ONE bucket of crayons, not 6 or 7 little containers. I want ONE bookshelf for the kids. I want ONE bookshelf for me. It's not even like it's cluttered because I like to decorate. When it comes to interior design I am the antithesis of Martha. Yet, my house is full of furniture all the sudden. Granted it's nice to have a couch to sit on, but damn I want more open spaces. Less stepping on, over and around STUFF. This weekend I'm throwing out and condensing. I will pretend I'm like the Reader's digest and cut out all that fluff. Who am I kidding? *sigh*

Rage and Fury in fhe face of the approximate~

Today the question was made, “What does the world think of us now?” After working so long in international studies and meeting so many people from around the world I am painfully aware of what the world has thought of America for some time. While there are mixed reviews I think the verdict is in that we are a nation of greedy sloth, a federation of idiots, 50 states full of sheep. That is what the WTC was about. That is what Osama Bin Laden is about. That is what Bush being re-elected is about. We have allowed the idea that “It’s good enough” override the idea of “Let’s do better.” Bush is a prime example of how mediocrity is rewarded in this country. People like him because he is simple enough to make them look smart. People like him because he doesn’t flub words like “moral” or “truth” but don’t recognize that he doesn’t understand the concept behind even simple words that he can pronounce. People like him because he says “Trust me,” and then they don’t have to think for themselves. After all, he is the president so why shouldn’t we trust him? Why shouldn’t we indeed? For me the answer is clear and fairly simple. You don’t trust people that have lied to you once you can prove that they’ve lied. You don’t follow people who don’t mind making money from other people’s bloody sacrifice. You don’t accept a job done poorly when it is the most powerful position in the world. At least I don’t. I refuse to compromise when it comes to the foundations that I know this country to be founded on. He is NOT my leader, and doesn't represent me. I suggest reading “Atlas Shrugged” if you haven’t AND reading “1984” and “Animal Farm” again. They aren’t far fetched literature anymore, because between Ayn Rand and George Orwell, this administration has been portrayed to a T and it’s a disgrace. I’m very angry about the acceptance of mediocrity by the people of my country. I’m very angry that the judgmental idea of “moral value” can override the blatant and horrible facts of national security, economy, and war. I’m saddened and hurt, but mostly I’m disappointed and angry. Still, I don’t have to accept half-assed mediocrity into my life, and I won’t. After all, who is John Galt?
Sometimes we just need a little strength to regroup. This has often given me some~

"In the name of the best within you, do not sacrifice this world to those who are its worst. In the name of the values that keep you alive, do not let your vision of man be distorted by the ugly, the cowardly, the mindless in those who have never achieved his title. Do not use lose your knowledge that man's proper estate is an upright posture, an intransigent mind and a step that travels unlimited roads. Do not let your fire go out, spark by irreplaceable spark, in the hopeless swamps of the approximate, the not-quite, the not-yet, the not-at-all. Do not let the hero in your soul perish, in lonely frustration for the life you deserved, but have never been able to reach. Check your road and the nature of you battle. The world you desired can be won, it exists, it is real, it is possible, it's yours." ~Ayn Rand

Vote

I'm not going to say that Kerry is the end all be all here. I'm not going to say that you should vote for any particular candidate. What I am going to say is go vote. Granted the choices suck. But to quote Michael Moore, "Buying a car sucks, but that hasn't ever stopped you from buying a car." Just go vote.


See you at the polls.

cold hurts

I woke up this morning to a world covered in snow and ice. Not a lot, just a few inches. The wind was blowing most of the night hard enough for the house to creak a little and it felt like a true snowstorm. The first one of the season always holds a certain excitement for me even now. Unfortunately, the cold for me also brings discomfort. It started in my early 20's. Cold equals pain. It's mostly this major distraction in my hands, and today my left wrist. I hate that. The advantage of Atlanta was that there were only a few days really cold enough to create this effect, but now I'm looking at a long season of it again. I think I might go see a doctor about it (again). I wonder why this happens. I've been told it's not arthritis, but then what is it? Still, I'm going to keep looking out the window and enjoying this first snow. It's another thing I did really miss about being so far away from here...minus the hurting part.

Smoooochie Witch 

chihuahua

Deep down inside of me I must long to be hairless. I think about how much time, money and pain I've spent on removing hair from my body and it's astounding. Razor blades alone are a huge cost in maintaining a somewhat hairless body. I think the last ones I bought were somewhere around $8 for four! Still better buy the good ones than get cuts from the cheapies right? I haven't used less expensive ones in a long time, so I don't know that it's true. I'm only speculating. I'm a little afraid of the bloody results that could occur in experimentation. Even so, the more expensive method is probably costing me well over $100 a year just to have hairless legs and armpits. I guess that isn't that much, but when you figure I've been shaving for 20 years it adds up.
Next: the insanity of waxing. I really feel like it pays to have someone else wax my eyebrows and upper lip. Unfortunately, I can't always find the time or the extra $$ to do so. It feels like being pampered when someone else does it, but the effects are the same. Nice clean brow line and no moustache. Fantastic! Still, who the hell puts hot wax on their face and rips out the hairs? I do. It's crazy, and yes, it hurts. Still, beauty knows no pain (to an extent anyway). I've had my legs waxed and actually that is somewhat relaxing. I would do this more often, but it's expensive and the inbetween weeks with fuzzy legs is less than pleasing. I've had my bikini area done and what the hell was I thinking. No, I'll stick to the old razor and shaving cream method for there. Seriously, I was bruised for weeks! Even worse I paid cash for it. WTF?
So, this is probably way more information than any of you wanted. I was just thinking though. It's really a lot of time and effort to keep up being hairless. Even so, it's better than the alternative.

Clean house

How does one keep a house clean when there are kids without making that the only thing done? I like doing other things that cleaning. I like talking to my friends, watching movies with my kids, baking pies, etc. I HATE cleaning up. Seriously, despise it. I do it because I don't want my house to look like a total pigsty, but at the same time it still always looks lived in. I long for a house that is just open and empty of clutter, but I don't know how to get there. Any suggestions? Maybe I should just toss everything I haven't used in the last 3 months. Still, that gets rid of a lot of memories. I don't know. It's overwhelming and it's not something I was ever really trained to do growing up. I never had to clean up, cook, do laundry, etc. My only responsibility was to get good grades. I did that. Am I doomed to have a messy house until Geoffrey and Bronte are older? Even just managing to keep all their papers and stuff picked up feels like a major task. How do people with more than 2 kids do it? I guess just dig in and do it. That is the only way. *sigh*

Bronte at her award ceremony. 

Congrats to Bronte

She's won an award at school. It's for treating others with respect and kindness. She has been helping out with a girl in her class who is handicapped and they've become good friends. Really this isn't surprising from either of my children though. They are both wonderful and kind. I really am lucky.

An accurate photo of me (moreso than my driver license) 

Cake or death

Actually, I'll take pie. I don't know why exactly, but cake just doesn't do much for me. The same with ice cream. There are exceptions, but for the most part I'd rather have pie for dessert than these other things. Just to clarify I'm counting tarts in this catergory since they have a crust that is filled with yummy stuff. Yummm...pie. Even so, I'm fairly particular on the types of pie and how they are made. I love fruit pie, but not when it's so syrupy sweet that you can't taste the fruit. After all it's fruit pie, not sugar pie with fruit. My grandmother used to make the most incredible apple pie. She'd always add just enough sugar so the apples were sweet, but you knew it was apple. Boy, that woman could make a great pie. Custard type pies get a much lower ranking for me than fruit pies. There is something about the consistancy that just doesn't thrill me. However, every now and then I get a craving for Key Lime. It's sort of custardy. Pumpkin pie isn't very high up there either. Which is curious since I really like Sweet Potato Pie (there is one in the oven right now) a lot and they are very similar. I think it's just the whole flashback to eating nearly an entire pumpkin pie one year at my great-grandmother's. Mincemeat is alright. Pecan pie is just too sweet for me. I can see why people really like it, but my tasteybuds just can't do super sweet. Still pecans are super yummy. I wonder if I can make a less sweet version.
Actually, when I lived in Atlanta I'd tease that I could forgive just about anything if I was presented with a fruit tart from Alon's (yes, this IS the most awesome bakery I've ever had the fortune to frequent.) These tarts are phenomenal. Not too sweet, not too much custard in the bottom, nice crispy light crust. Jeezy creezy, I'm having a craving now for one of those like you wouldn't believe. But then I've been missing Atlanta a lot today (after finding out how much spices in the grocery stores cost compared to the Dekalb County Farmer's Market)
Alright, so I like pie. I'm good at making pie. It's yummy.

(still feeling a little silly about blogging)

full on blog

I don't have anything to say just this moment so have an appetizer. It's been aged. The main course will be out later.


clouds
cold
quiet frost
red in a plethora of grey
(1987, by v.k.)

Nowhere in Africa

Yesterday I spent part of my day watching a movie called "Nowhere in Africa." It was about this Jewish couple that moved to Kenya during WWII. The movie itself was fairly interesting, but more importantly it got me thinking about Africa again. Although I hated the professors because they were not nice people, I really did enjoy my time in African Studies at Emory. I really learned so much. I am so much more aware of that continent and currently of all the troubles that are there.
I have been keeping up with various websites that report on the condition of the various places and it's just so much that we don't hear about in our papers. It frustrates me that these millions of people can be living without something so simple as iodized salt for their children or that they can be in the middle of a war zone and yet our press finds ONE C.A.R.E. worker being held captive in Iraq more newsworthy. I get so angry at the hypocrisy of our governments "foreign policy" and our "free press's" ability to cover ONLY the political agenda of the current administration.
I was looking at another movie on TV last night and a commercial came on for the Christian Children's Fund came on. I have serious problems with organizations like that. I know that their intentions are probably very good, often their agenda is often more than feeding and immunizing the community. Other organizations that deal with refugees, while not prosthelitizing, still have major issues with corruption and inability to distribute the goods in a timely manner. It's such a difficult problem, and again we are so oblivious to it because no one tells us. As for me sponsoring someone this is the route I go. I have a dear friend in Uganda right now who actually sponsors a child every year personally from the community she lives in. She pays for the school tuition and helps with books, etc. Every year she asks her friends to pitch in to help. Because of my connections with Emory and UCT I know a couple of people that take books to the library in one of the Cape Town townships. Last year I donated a number of Geoffrey and Bronte's books and pitched in a couple new ones.
Anyway, this is where the movie led me. I think that Africa will always be an interest to me. Cape Town felt too much like home for me not to go back. I didn't get to see it all or feel and taste it all. Africa is such a big place with so many governments and so much constant change. The political, economic, environmental and social structures are too much too keep track of even in just one region, but at the same time it's worth trying to know. While we are up in arms about the minutia of the middle east there are people and things in Africa that deserve that outrage, as well.

I don't think this is acurate, but it's an o.k. photo of someone. 

very simply

Migraines suck.

It's official!

I'm now a real citizen of the state of Colorado....again. I have my driver license (there is no s on the card) and I don't really think the photo looks much like me. I'll scan it tomorrow at work and see what the consensus is. It's not a bad photo, but it just doesn't really look like me. However, a lot of photos that I don't think look anything like me others do. In fact I've been accused of being "not very photogenic." I think that is somewhat true. My sparkling personality just can't be captured. (Holding out the barf bag for all those who might hurl from that last statement.)

Damn, I use parenthesis way too much.

Tonight I have a parent-teacher conference. I always feel like I've been sent to the principal's office when I attend these things and am sort of nervous about it. Bronte's teacher is really quite a sweet woman, but I've just had really weird experiences. What kind you say? Well, last year Bronte's teacher told me I should buy a kitchen table and chairs so she could learn to push her seat in. And then there was the problem of Bronte wanting to rug share a square at story time with her friend. *sigh* I can only hope that there won't be any decorating suggestions or issues with my child being affectionate tonight.

How my newly awakened brain works at 12:22 a.m.

The wind is whipping about outside and causing our garage door to bang. It woke me up. Why doesn't the garage door latch you might ask, thus keeping it from banging? Well, a couple days after we moved in one of my children decided that locking the small door was a good idea while the big door was down. The problem was I didn't yet have the remote to the garage door opener. So, the car and all the contents of the garage were locked inside. The cool thing was I got to break the door open using my fantastic "Charlie's Angels" kick~ HIIII~YA!!!. The not so cool thing is I have yet to fix the damn door so it bangs when it's breezy outside. That is SO going on the list of things to do this weekend.
Also, I remember now why I don't usually go to bed before 11. When I get to sleep too early I find that I am a lighter sleeper than if I go later. Therefore I wake up during the middle of the night at noises like the garage door, that is clear across the house, banging. Then I start thinking I should check it out or whatever and get up and end up checking e-mail or Tribe or now, blogging. I do see this return to my usual waking pattern as a return to health. Still, I am up when I should be down. Awake when I should be having sweet dreams of...I'll keep those to myself, thank you very much.
I was informed this evening that most people tend to work during the day. This is an unfortunate turn of events when I want to talk to one of my best friends (who is a film editor) who ends up having to make meetings with these dayworker types at night so that he can work. hmph! I have important things to ask him! Like what page is he on in the book we are reading together! And is such and such a movie worth paying to see! And what is his mom cooking for Thanksgiving this year! (Speaking of Unfortunate Events and film editors I'm sooooo getting stoked to see the Lemony Snicket movie.) Alright, so maybe I'll just call him now. He's prolly (translation: probably) still awake since he has the foresight not to go to bed so early that he doesn't sleep well. Something I could have used advice on when he was in a meeting.
Thus concludes my rant.

My poor monkey is sick. 

Who's fault is it?

Alright, so my dear friend Abby has a blog so we are blaming her for the madness of me starting one. Now I just have to figure out how this damned thing works without opening 20 different windows and fumbling through. Abby makes it look so easy. HELP!!!

I'm downstairs and the kids are watching cartoons. Amend that to Geoffrey is watching cartoons. Bronte, I think, has finally fallen asleep. That little sweetheart has been throwing up all afternoon after contracting whatever virus her brother had earlier in the week. She was so tough and determined to be well that she kept asking for crackers, tea and water even though it was evident that she was not going to be able to keep them down. I think she will be right as rain in the morning who knows. I can only hope that I don't get the bug. I've got work and plans for the rest of the week. WooT!

Smoooochie!!! 

Wow! My very own blog

O.K. so I've been very hesitant/resistant to starting my own blog because honestly I don't know that what I say or think is all that interesting to other people. Also, I don't know that I'm so verbose as to keep it full of new and exciting things. The pressure is now on. However, I'm curious about this blogging thing and perhaps it can be a way to bring my non-Tribe people more into my life. You know...IRL (translation: in real life) people like family and friends who, for some reason I cannot fathom, don't use the internet as an addiction. So, that being said, this is my first post to my brand-new, sparkly fun blog.