The Backward Life

But Harry Potter Said It

2012-02-04T07:54:00.001-08:00

I never thought I would hear that phrase used to explain away the use of a "bad" word. Let me elaborate:

Last night we were in the car, and I was explaining to Maggie how she has a very expressive face and sometimes she says whatever pops into her head. I was trying to explain how it can be taken the wrong way and offend people. As you can imagine, this did not go over well.

Maggie said, "Fine, so I'm an opinionated prick.". *GASP*

Jon and I both told her she should never use that word. Her reply? "But Harry Potter says it in the 7th book." (I love Harry Potter, and I'm going to say that when English people use it the word doesn't have the same weight. Obviously, I am trying to rationalize it.)

Anyway, Jon asked Maggie if she knew what the word meant. When she
said no, Jon told her it meant "penis". Her only reply: "Oh." said in a slow realization kind of way.

I don't think she'll ever say it again, and I know she'll never live it down. It was a whole week's worth of laughter.

Exercise = Hunger

2012-02-01T22:10:00.000-08:00

Why is it when I start exercising in earnest I feel more hungry? I know I am burning more calories, but if I eat more, than I have to burn more calories and I can only take so much exercise. And to make matters worse, I have been looking at food porn again. There are so many wonderful food blogs out there. I found a recipe I want to try this weekend — Nutella mousse. The recipe comes from the blog My Baking Addiction. They look so pretty and delicious.

Speaking of food, don't you hate it when you eat or drink something expecting it to have a certain flavor or texture and it is completely different? For example, when you take a drink of someone's soda and you think it's Coke, but it's really Root Beer, or vice versa? It makes you pucker your lips and wince. That's how I feel about foods that disguise themselves as something they are not. The mashed potatoes that end up being mashed turnips, the grilled chicken that is really tofu or worse, the ice cream that is really some frozen soy mixture? For all of you who feel the same way I do, this one's for you:

Need Advice? I'm Your Columnist

2012-01-30T12:46:00.000-08:00

I'm pretty certain I would make a fine advice columnist. This may sound like it's coming from out of the blue, but I have been an advice columnist reader for many years. I find myself mentally rewriting the response letters that are lacking. Do newspapers even hire these types of columnists anymore or do most print a syndicated column like Dear Abby?

I might have to do some research and then find out how to sell myself to newspapers that don't currently carry a column of that type. It could be lucrative for the paper- especially if I include plugs for certain advertiser's products and services in my letters. For example, when giving advice to someone about how to handle their anger issues after their son smashed the family car into the mailbox, I could let the writer know about the auto body special they are having at "Such and Such Auto" on Main Street.

When I look at that again, I realize I could never do the sponsor plug thing. I really hate it when you are watching a perfectly good television show where the two main characters are having a serious conversation while driving when suddenly the driver starts to tell their co-star about all the great features in the new Prius. It almost always is irrelevant to the plot, or so poorly written that it is extra forced. (Did I mention the Fox network is the worst culprit?)

So what do I have to offer a newspaper looking for an advice columnist that doesn't include additional ad sales? My witty and thoughtful approach to solving their readership's daily problems — be it criticism from a mother-in-law or getting blood out of just about anything.

What do you think? Would I make a good advice columnist? I could test it out on this blog. Send me your questions, one and all, and I will give you sound and amusing advice to make your lives better.

One Stop Internet

2012-01-30T07:36:00.000-08:00

Lately, the only places I have been on the Web are my blog, website, email and the occasional online shopping. I realized this weekend I have been missing a whole new world of possibilities. I love to go through Blogger's random blogs to find something new. I almost always find a blog worth following, but after discovering Pinterest, I now have a whole new set of places to peruse.

I know. I am behind the times. Apparently, Pinterest is not new, but it's new to me. It is made up of thousands of virtual bulletin boards. Some people "pin" up their favorite recipes, while others made dream wedding collages. Each "pin" takes the reader to a website where the information and pictures are stored. Super talented individuals are posting how they decorated a room or built a playhouse. There is all this free information in one spot with fantastic photos.

I'd write more, but I have to go explore Pinterest a little more.

Clever and Witty or Just Plain Stupid

2012-01-25T07:48:00.000-08:00

Sometimes I make the mistake of thinking I am a lot more clever than I actually am. I am so excited I said something witty or humorous, that I make sure everyone I know hears it -- even if it makes no sense out of context. I will repeat the story (mostly with huge gaps because I wasn't listening to anything else but my own brilliance) and people will look at me quizzically while I say, "Wasn't that funny? You should have seen the look on his face. He thought it was hilarious." Or something to that effect.

Many of you are reading this and know exactly what I am talking about. Maybe you do it too, or maybe you just know me well enough to know I do it. Either way, you get it.

Most everything sounds better in our heads when we have had time to practice. That is one of my biggest flaws when it comes to communication. While I am talking to someone I am thinking about what to say in response, so much so, that I end up missing half of what they are saying. By the time I get to make my comments they are either no longer relevant or the conversation took a whole other turn and I sound like a nincompoop. (Did you know people still use that word? I think it's mostly moms.)

When I fail to think so carefully about my responses, I end up throwing out my filter and saying exactly what I think in a reactionary manner and I get in trouble anyway. So, basically it is a lose, lose situation. You either get to hear me uncensored, which can be offensive, or highly censored and planned out, which can sound canned and unintelligent. I will stick with unfiltered. You either hate me or you love me (Okay, you can just like me, but while we are on the subject I want you to know that many people do love me. I swear. )

Babies, Schmabies

2012-01-23T07:54:00.000-08:00

Everyone is having or has recently had a baby. Not everyone, I am being hyperbolic, but it sure feels like it. For about a month or so I even thought I wanted to have another baby. It probably took a good 5 weeks before I snapped out of it. What was I thinking? I had three of them. They have turned out pretty well, but I am not in a baby state-of-mind anymore. It's a wonder relatives and friends with small children even come to visit us anymore.

Our house invites disaster at every turn. It's like an evil funhouse for babies and toddlers. That outlet with five million things plugged into the power strip looks very inviting with it's glowy, red light. The steep hardwood stairs with the too far apart railings, is just the thing for fun and death. Even our furniture is dangerous. A child could get lost in the wide empty space left after years of the sofa cushions shifting and shrinking into itself. All our tables have sharp edges and there's the lamp that flickers at even the smallest nudge. (I really should get that checked out.) I'm not even going to mention the raised brick section of the floor where the wood stove used to be. Man, thank goodness that is gone — there's no telling how many babies would die because of that thing.

Disclaimer: Not an actual picture from my house.

Now that I think of it in terms of unfriendly, I see the atmosphere isn't great for little ones either. My daughter's disagreements could wake the dead, there is a lot of killing on multiple video game consoles and I am just generally not tolerant of little humans who aren't mine. There, I said it — my dislike of other people's children may have grown into a dislike of all small children. I am in teenage and pre-teen mode now, there is no going back.

Pooplosion

2012-01-20T07:45:00.000-08:00

I used to work for a local property management company, which I hated. It didn't take more than a few weeks before I realized how scheming and unethical the management/owner was. I stayed at the job longer than I should have because I thought I could make life a little better for the residents at my complexes/houses. I did what I could to take care of problems more efficiently, but I also was open about the other options new apartment hunters had in the area. (I'm pretty sure I even got a Christmas card from one of the other rental companies.)

I had an ethical and moral dilemma every morning when I got up, and I knew I was never going to change the situation. When it had become too much for me, I found a new and better job. I am hoping the incident yesterday will help skew things in the tenants' favor.

One of the buildings owned by the property management company had an explosion in the attic, which sent the ceilings down into the four apartments below. There were no gas leaks, so the preliminary assessment is methane. That's right, folks — poo gas. I always knew the place was a pile of poo, but now it may have caused the destruction of property. No one was hurt, but eight or so tenants were displaced and relocated to, what I can only assume is, an even crappier apartment. The building will most likely be condemned and hopefully torn down. My thought is that this better make the city take an extra careful look at the other residences. I can say with certainty the management company and owner have not kept the buildings to code.

I feel bad for the residents (especially of that particular building), but just because something looks good on the outside, doesn't mean it is. There are plenty of good property management companies in the area where you could do business.

Winter Came And Brought Twenty Suitcases

2012-01-18T12:31:00.000-08:00

It's snowing. I know that doesn't sound very shocking considering I live in North Idaho, but it has been a nice, mild season until yesterday. Winter came and knocked on the door, eschewing the overnight bag for at least twenty large suitcases, maybe even a steamer trunk or two. All the surrounding school districts, except my childrens', had 2-hour delays that turned into closures. Now my kids are at school, my husband and I are at work and I'm a tiny bit worried about how long it will take to get home. The news says to expect 8-16" of snow in the next 36 hours. Sounds to me like there should be a snow day in there somewhere.

In the middle of all this white I found amusement in this photo taken on the WSU campus. Thank goodness for eccentrics:

Gourmet Rice Krispy Treats

2012-01-16T15:34:00.000-08:00

I am currently obsessed with making Rice Krispy Treats- not the run-of-the-mill treats, but different flavors and textures. They are really a very versatile treat. During Christmas I found pink and white peppermint and dulce de leche marshmallows. Those were good, but they didn't have quite the flavor I was looking for.

I find it is best to start with plain white marshmallows and add different extracts or other things to flavor the treats. Today I made peanut butter and jelly. I added peanut butter to the marshmallow mix and then added strawberry flavoring. Next time I will probably make two thin pans of peanut butter treats and spread jam in between the layers.

Tonight I am going for pina colada treats. Coconut baking flavoring (which is thicker and not made with alcohol, which tends to evaporate in heat), shredded coconut and finely chopped dried pineapple pieces. Yummy!!!! I might have to put candied cherries in it too. We'll see.

As you can probably guess, my kids are not complaining. Jon is though, he hates marshmallows. I only like marshmallows inside things, or toasted. Plain marshmallows are not my favorite. Oh my gosh, that just gave me a terrific idea for another batch of Rice Krispy Treats — toasted marshmallow. That could take a while though, after all, I would have to toast each marshmallow individually to get the right flavor. I wonder if I can get a camp fire lit in my backyard. The snow might make it a little hard. Hmm, maybe this isnt' such a good idea. I like my eyebrows where they are.

This could work (S'mores):

http://www.twopartssugar.com/gallery/

Okay, I should not have googled "gourmet Rice Krispy Treat" pictures. Now, I feel as though I have to step it up.

See's Candies Are Now Less Appealing

2012-01-09T20:23:00.000-08:00

Jon was given a one-pound box of See's Candies today at work. See's Candies are not easy to come by around here. You have to drive two hours to get to the nearest store. Anyway, he brought them home to share with me — he was even letting me have my pick since it's my birthday tomorrow. We ate several pieces and then I took a small nibble out of each piece to see which ones I wanted to eat later and which ones Jon could have. (Aren't I nice?)

I left the opened box on my side table in my room. Later while we were eating dinner I noticed our small dog Ralph was missing. I found him on our bed, chocolate covering our quilts and his face and only one piece of chocolate left in the box.

I'm ashamed to say my first thought was, "I can't believe he ate the See's Candies before I could eat my favorite pieces." I then quickly turned my thoughts to my dog's health.

Ralph is only about 20 pounds and I knew the chocolate would make him very sick. I promptly grabbed the hydrogen peroxide and we made Ralph drink a bit to induce vomiting. Jon says he lives up to his name — he promptly threw up (even one whole chocolate was expelled) and we gave him a bath. He seemed to be doing better and about an hour later he threw up again. Not just a little, but copious amounts of chocolate, nougat, nut and caramel vomit. Half of this ended up on our Chocolate Lab Lulu's back. (She was laying on the floor under the couch.) The irony is not lost on me.

Now we have two very clean dogs and a lot of dirty laundry. The two dogs are now sitting in their kennels looking very forlorn.

Solitude

2012-01-09T09:16:00.000-08:00

I get a rare moment of solitude today. I am home from work for the morning to take children to doctor appointments, but lucky for me, I have a little lag time in between. I am sitting in my quiet house, with only a few tinkling from the dog's collars, and I can breathe. Sometimes we forget in the day-to-day hustle of our lives, that we need some time to just breathe and reflect. I try not to do too much reflecting, because then I will just feel bad about all the things I'm not doing while I sit here breathing all Zen-like and stuff.

But it is nice, this quiet time. If you listen you can hear all the sounds your house makes when you are away. I can hear the second hand moving around my living room clock. The heater just clicked on and I hear a small whoosh of air. The slightest breeze and my old house creaks a little. It's a nice sound, that creaking. Like the house is enjoying the quiet too and just took a big cleansing breathe before settling in for a few hours of peace before we all invade her again. I wish I could do this more often — sitting still.

You probably shouldn't sit still too long because you are liable to fall asleep or begin to chant.

The Swider (Otherwise Known As The Sweater Hider)

2012-01-08T22:36:00.000-08:00

I was getting dressed this morning when I noticed by shirt (the one that goes really well with my new skirt) had a stain on it. It's the only shirt I have that is the right color for my outfit, but I couldn't possibly go around with it like that. So, what did I do? I grabbed a sweater - a cardigan. It covered up the stain on my shirt, but left enough of the color and pattern showing to look great with my skirt. As I looked in the mirror, I was reminded of a recent conversation I had with my mother-in-law's sister Linda and her daughter-in-law Kim. They both admitted to doing this very thing. Imagine my relief — knowing I'm not the only one.

That is one of the many things I enjoy about winter. The cold weather is a good excuse to wear a sweater, even if you are only wearing it to hide the huge stain that happens to sit right over your breast. You know the one. It makes you look like a nursing mother whose milk is leaking, when in fact your youngest is 11 years old. (If you are thinking, "how is it weird that I would still be breastfeeding my 11-year-old?" then you are terribly disturbed and should not visit my blog any longer.) No, I am not breastfeeding, I am just messy.

So, if there is one reason to enjoy the cold weather, this is it. Wear your favorite stained shirts and blouses, but wear them with a sweater that provides adequate coverage of your slobbery. Then, when the weather is warm again, put them away. It will be like you have a whole new wardrobe come next winter.

Teetering On The Ledge

2012-01-05T07:41:00.001-08:00

Yesterday I felt as if my patience and good will were being dangled over the edge of a cliff. Their shoes slipped off into the abyss as sweat dripped from their foreheads. Soon their grip on the edge began to loosen, as their strength depleted and then with one last whoosh, they plunged to their deaths.

I deal with all kinds of people in my line of work, but yesterday everyone I dealt with had some idiosyncrasy that drove me crazy:

The IT guy, who used up more than 2 hours of my time, and kept using the word "hosed" -- For example, "Oh man, the guy who wrote your program must have been so hosed." "If I can't figure this out, your office is so hosed." As if hosed wasn't enough, it was always proceeded by "so".

The colleagues, who despite several degrees and years of experience, can't seem to do anything for themselves.

Then there's the window washer gentleman who seems to have a crush on me and stops me on my way to the bathroom to just see how I'm doing. Well, how I'm doing is about to pee my pants because he is impeding my progress to the toilet. I started to take a different route, but I was discovered.

As you can see, I'm a bit frustrated. It will pass, but until then I have invented 5-minute therapy. Basically it is just five minutes where you are allowed to complain and moan to someone else and they have to keep patient/doctor confidentiality. We'll see how that plays out.

Then again, I suppose that is what I do already on this blog.

Superheroes

2011-12-28T07:43:00.001-08:00

Jon brought home this costume the other day for Moira. I'm not sure what kind of superhero it turns her into, but it sure made her smile.

It reminded me of another child dressed as a superhero--Superwoman, to be exact. When my sister and I were little we made wrist cuffs and a headband out of cardboard and covered them with foil. Using a marker we drew red stars on them. We found a towel for a cape, but we were short a victim. Then my brother Steve toddled by in his diaper-- perfect! My mom has pictures somewhere of Steve
as Superwoman, and I would love copies.

They might come on handy if I ever go into the costume business. I could put them in my portfolio.

Mom, if you're reading this and you know where those pictures are, scan them and send me copies. I will add them to this post as validation that everything I write on my blog is not bologna.;)

Endurance

2011-12-24T13:24:00.001-08:00

We have been in the car going on nine hours now. The alphabet game has lost its fun, the scenery has lost its beauty and the smell is not so sweet. There should never be seven people in a vehicle with two dogs unless it's a bus in Mexico- and then there should also be a few loose chickens.

Christmas Eve in a car for a ten-hour car ride is not the best idea, but it could be worse. Okay, I can't really think of anything right now, but I know there are worse things.

Even the dog is bored.

Fa la la stinkin' la

2011-12-22T16:40:00.001-08:00

What is wrong with people during the holidays? Even if you're not in the Christmas spirit you could still muster a thank you when a little girl holds the door open for you or the grocery checker offers you a candy cane. Everyone seems so grumpy, but then it also makes me wonder if everyone is just acting normal and I'm just overly jolly.

The Holidays or Christmas?

2011-12-07T07:52:00.001-08:00

I celebrate Christmas. I can't say that I celebrate "the holidays" because I don't celebrate Hanukkah, Kwanza or any of the other religious holidays that come around every winter. I respect and appreciate those who do celebrate their own holidays though. I also think it is a wonderful idea to be inclusive when decorating for this time of year in a public setting- like a University office.

That said, I should not be scowled at, given dirty looks to, or receive under-the-breath comments because I choose to say Merry Christmas instead of Happy Holidays. Instead, if I say Merry Christmas and you actually celebrate Hanukkah, grow a pair and say so. To which I will happily revise my exclamatory to Happy Hanukkah.

Ready, Set, Christmas Shop

2011-11-23T12:46:00.001-08:00

There are few things that fill me with as much dread as going Christmas shopping. The crowds, the decision making, the money, the crowds -- well, you get the picture.

I have found a way to make this year's shopping just a little easier. I am going to purchase the same gift for all the men in my life. I believe you'll find yourself green (or maybe yellow) with envy. In fact, to save some money, I might just go DIY and make them myself.

So, male friends and family members, send me your measurements. You're getting these bad boys this year:

Roasted Dog For Thanksgiving

2011-11-17T09:35:00.000-08:00

Whose to say a kid wouldn't eat their dog? In some countries they eat dog every day- they don't have turkey.

On a more serious note: As many of you know, PETA and I have a hate-hate relationship. After my first anti-PETA opinion column regarding a summertime advertisement, I recieved very unfriendly letters from a few PETA representatives. Well, no surprise, but they are building my ire once more.

I am always careful to say there is nothing wrong with advocating for animals, but ads like the one above, directed at children, raise my hackles. There are better ways to do this. There has to be.

I encourage anyone who would like to support animal rights to forego a membership with PETA and instead, join the ASPCA. They do a lot of good work and have a lot of good people looking out for the interests of animals.
See the full PETA story here:

http://bites.today.msnbc.msn.com/_news/2011/11/15/8819110-peta-hounds-kids-not-to-eat-turkey#.TsK1M0Ic5qs.email

Starry Starry Night

2011-11-14T22:19:00.000-08:00

How cool is this room? Courtesy of A Cup of Jo

I love the idea of sleeping under the stars. The first night Jon and I slept in our bedroom in our current house, we got to experience something like the stars overhead. Our room is built under my daughter's dormer room, and don't ask me why, but the people who fashioned it thought it would be a good idea to put in a drop ceiling. It's an ugly ceiling and I am pretty sure the last tenant thought so also.

Our first night here we hadn't even set our bed up and were sleeping on a mattress on the floor. We turned off the lights, exhausted from moving, and the ceiling lit up with odd-shaped constellations and what could be mistaken for kind of shooting star. Someone had taken glow in the dark paint and made their own midnight masterpiece.

Almost every night since then when Jon turns off the lights he says something like, "What a clear night, all the stars are out." I laugh, even though I've heard it a thousand times or more, and I go to sleep with a smile on my face (even when the sky outside is so cloudy and gloomy no stars can shine through).

Long Weekends Are Good Weekends

2011-11-14T22:00:00.000-08:00

This last weekend was a whopping three days long. It was also Jon's birthday-- his 40th. In honor of his birthday, I stepped out of the house and let Jon, Kyle and Jon's brother play video games for more than 24 hours. I know- I'm that nice. It also gave me a chance to work a little and get some of my stuff done.

Saturday we had cake and ice cream and then Jon and I went to a fundraising dinner. The Moscow High School Bear Boosters have a dinner each year to raise money for sports at the school. This includes club sports, like my son's lacrosse team, which the boosters help financially. We hadn't planned on going, but at the last minute our friends asked if we wanted to fill in the seats at their table (someone had bought tickets but couldn't go).

I felt like a fish out of water. There was a silent auction before the dinner and everyone (they all knew each other) was mingling with drinks in their hands bidding hundreds of dollars on spa packages and tickets to various sporting events etc. When dinner came it was a pleasant surprise. Lots of good company and good conversation. Jon and I had ordered the beef medallion. My idea of a medallion of beef is that it is the size of a medallion. Not this beef. It was more like a beef plaque. The plate came with a ginormous slice of prime rib. It must have been an inch thick and 7 inches in diameter. Jon grunted in pleasure and I tried to figure out how best to eat it without looking like an indelicate pig (sitting next to the vegetarian who said it wouldn't be so bad to watch if the beef was free range).

This wasn't the actual dinner, but the meat looks pretty similar. You can see how this would be unappetizing to sit next to if you don't eat beef for personal reasons. Who am I kidding? This might make me drool even if I was a vegan who had never eaten meat before in my life.

We ended up having to cut the night short when Maggie missed her ride home from the ice skating rink. The weekend ended on a superb note though. Our friends Amy and Allan invited us to their home for dinner Sunday night. We had some of the best corned beef and cabbage and the night was so pleasant.

Good friends, good food, good conversation and a lot of laughter. What more could I ask for?

Snow Pool

2011-11-08T21:44:00.000-08:00

We had a snow pool at work- and no, unfortunately, it is not actually a pool with snow in it. Although, the thought did cross my mind before it rummaged around and found the real explanation.

I was looking for a picture of snow in kiddie pool and I found baby elephants in a kiddie pool. Much better!

You could pay a quarter for each guess you made on what day the first snow would fall. There were rules as to how many guesses you could make, etc. On Friday, as I was getting to work there was something resembling tiny snowflakes, but it was more like rain than snow. It lasted an hour and then was just cold and a little damp outside the rest of the day. This was called as the "first snow" by the snow pool organizer.

There were so many unhappy people in the office, and a lot of argument over what constitutes snow and whether it was fair to have a winner since there wasn't any on the ground. There was a lot of discussion, wasting a lot of time, and I'm convinced it was merely done to avoid work.

All of this is leading somewhere, I promise. I was warming up my lunch at work after the "snowfall" and one of my co-workers came in to get his lunch from the fridge. He then stood in the kitchen, removed his black work shoes, pulled a pair of snow pants out of a bag and put them over his slacks and then pulled on some heavy-duty hiking shoes. I looked at him, oddly I'm sure, and he explained he was walking over to Ferdinand's for ice cream. Ferdinand's is about a three to five minute walk from our office. There was no snow on the ground, it was barely damp and it wasn't even very cold. I'm still a little confused.

This co-worker seems to do this to me sometimes. Just when I think I have figured him out he goes and pulls snow pants out of his bag. It does make for an interesting work day. I never know what he will say or do next. It's kind of exciting. Perhaps, I should keep a little notebook of his eccentricities and share them here with you. Then it will be as though you were all at work with me- making spreadsheets and editing training manuals.

Prostitutes in Acapulco?

2011-11-08T21:28:00.000-08:00

I know, astonishing right? Who would have thought they would have prostitutes in a Mexican resort town. Okay, so I am misconstruing a bit. The prostitutes, 19 of them, along with some peacocks, plasma TVs, fighting cocks and marijuana (big surprise there), were confiscated from a Mexican prison in Acapulco. The authorities are not saying how they got there, but they did make sure to add a disclaimer that the peacocks were pets. It was almost as if they were making sure no one thought the peacocks had anything to do with what the prostitutes were doing there, if you catch my drift. Makes you wonder what their excuse was for the roosters and the marijuana.

My life is not nearly as exciting, or as richly furnished, as a Mexican prison. I wouldn't say I am wholly disappointed, but who doesn't want a peacock? It makes me think back to a trip we took with my parents to Peterson Rock Garden in Oregon. There were peacocks roaming the grounds, pretty colorful ones and a few white ones. They were kind of scary though- they looked like they were ready to charge at the drop of a hat or a running child, as it were.

That memory makes me think of my parents, which makes me think of my mom and her blog, which makes me think of my dad who was featured in her blog, which makes me wonder how he still has all his limbs, which makes me think about what I would do if I lost my arms, which makes me think about how I don't do anything that might remove my arms from my body, which then reminds me of what a boring life I lead.

This is a Kardashian, not a prostitute, but it's what I imagine glamorous prostitutes look like (kind of like Pretty Woman).

You can read the whole story (the one about the prison, not the one about my boring life- that one is right here in this blog) here:

Peacocks, prostitutes found in Mexico prison

Have a Horrid Halloween

2011-10-29T17:22:00.001-07:00

I love Halloween, but this year demands on my time have dampened the spirit. Our tombstones aren't even up yet. I think my colleagues probably think I am really weird though. I got a little overly excited about the trick or treaters who visited the office yesterday. I even wore huge eyelashes with bats on them.
Maggie went to a dance and we are taking Mo on her last year of trick or treating. It is bitter sweet. I will take the time to make Halloween cookies tomorrow and put up the yard decorations- because who wants to trick or treat in a boring neighborhood?

Holy Crap, It is the Week From H-E-Double Hockey Sticks

2011-10-18T19:20:00.001-07:00

An inner ear infection, a ruptured ear drum, a concussion and two missed days of work. Luckily, I cannot claim all of those unfortunate happenings, but some. The only thing pulling me through the week is that I get to see my mom and dad this weekend.

My cousin is getting married- congratulations Trevor- and we are driving down to Walla Walla. My parents will be there, along with my aunt, uncle, cousins and a whole lot of people I don't know.

I have mixed feelings about weddings. They are either super fun or super boring. Although we will not be able to make it for the actual nuptials, we do get to attend the reception. I will reserve judgement on the entertainment value until after, but if my aunt has anything at all to do with it- there will be laughter and fun - not just a lot of uncomfortable conversation and polite smiles.

So here's to what the weekend can bring to make me forget my week!

Useful Lyrics for Everyday Life

2011-10-15T18:04:00.000-07:00

Jon and I have tickets for They Might Be Giants next month. We are so excited to see them in concert again. To get ready, I have been listening to some of my favorite Giant albums. I’ve discovered several lines in those songs I could apply to situations in everyday life.

At work:

“Telephone for Mr. Horrible”
“Someone keeps moving my chair.”
“I’d be fired if that were my job.”

The economy:

“If I was smart, I’d save up for a piece of string and a rock to wind the string around.”

Love life/Dating:

“What’s he like? It’s not important.”
“I could shake my tiny fist and I swear I wasn’t wrong, but what’s the sense in arguing when you’re all alone?”

History:

“Now it’s Istanbul, not Constantinople.”
“Even old New York was once New Amsterdam.”

Self-confidence:

“Be what you’re like. Be like yourself.”

If you haven’t listened to They Might Be Giants before, you should now. They are amazing, and they have produced a number of children’s albums as well. My favorite- No!

Follow this link to see their site: They Might Be Giants

Erin's All Mixed Up

2011-10-07T22:34:00.000-07:00

I don’t know what is wrong with me lately, but I have been doing some really stupid stuff. I realize by putting this out there in the universe I am opening myself up to all sorts of ridicule—but it really is too funny to keep to myself.

First embarrassingly stupid thing:
Jon picks me up from work outside my office building a few minutes after five each day. I am usually out there waiting for him for a minute or two (as I scurry out of the office as soon as the big hand hits the 12). Let me also say, we have recently purchased a new car -- a nice Dodge Durango in a smoky gray. Anyway… yesterday, I was surprised to see Jon with the car idling outside my building when I was leaving. In a hurry to put a long day behind me, I swung open the door, put my bag on the seat and looked up. To my surprise, it was not Jon behind the wheel, but a handsome 60-something stranger. He grinned at me as my face turned red. I apologized, citing that both our cars were similar (on second glance, his looked nothing like our Durango. It was silver and shorter, kind of boxy.). I then did the only thing I knew to do. I leaned in, introduced myself and shook his hand. I then told him it was brilliant to meet him and hoped we didn’t meet in this fashion again.

Second embarrassingly stupid thing: (albeit, not nearly as bad as the first)
I needed a small trash can for under my desk at work. I use it to put my documents that need to be shredded. I prefer a plastic can with a domed lid and swinging top. I ordered one from Office Depot and had it shipped to the office. I didn’t want the large kitchen size so I ordered the small can. The box arrived today- a large box, big enough for a pretty good size trash can. When I opened it up, it had one very small box inside (kind of like Russian nesting dolls). In the very small box, was an even smaller trash can:

Apparently, I ordered a mini, not a small. It holds 2 quarts, just enough for a few very small confidential documents. I’m pretty sure I will use it when I need to shred tiny letters.

Farewell Dear Friend

2011-09-27T07:41:00.000-07:00

The printer at work keeps flashing this message, “The cyan cartridge is close to life.” It makes me feel as though it has been incubating all these months just waiting to spring forth and offer vibrant color to my mundane office documents. What it really should say is, “The cyan cartridge is close to death.” It is obvious, as my brochures and other printed materials have been lacking a fresh burst of color. So long cyan cartridge, may your next life be longer.

The Car of Shame

2011-09-07T07:38:00.000-07:00

We are currently a one-car family. I would like to say this is because we are also a "green" family and concerned about sending more pollution out into the world. I'd like to say we are trying to be economical. In reality, we haven't had the money to buy another car. We haven't taken out a loan for a car in more than a decade and I didn't want to have to now, but it's time — because the one car we do have has begun to slowly break apart, piece by piece.

The engine ticks, the electronics are wonky, only the back windows will roll down (partly on account of the electronics), and now, to top it all off, the back air shocks have stopped working. Our car is now a low-rider and if I took a jar of cream with me as we drove to work, I could make butter. The window thing I can live with-- it keeps us from going through drive-thrus and has probably saved us money — but the whiplash is a bit much.

We've taken the car to the mechanic, and even he didn't think it was worth sinking money into. So, it's definitely time for a new car, which means a car payment, which means debt. As if our student loans weren't enough to worry about.

.... ..... .... .....: This is me taking deep breaths and trying to envision driving to work in a car that doesn't prompt me to cross myself every three miles. (I'm not even Catholic, so you know it's bad.)

Food Fantasies

2011-08-11T07:32:00.000-07:00

I think about food all the time. Even right now, I'm thinking about what to make for dinner and whether I should buy more romaine or skip the salad and have mashed potatoes instead, or just skip dinner all together and eat half a chocolate mousse cake. See how that happens? A simple, reasonable thought about food turns into this unhealthy obsession that causes my brain to battle it out with my stomach.
We host many barbeques and dinner parties at our home. We enjoy doing it -- great food, good conversation and even better friends. It's a lot of work, but at the end of the night we go to bed full (not just of food, but life and happiness). The thing is, at these dinners we talk about food. Everyone shares a story about their most recent food experience, their favorite hometown restaurant or the recipe they tried last week. It's natural to talk about food while eating food, but it can go too far. I've had a friend comment on how she enjoys watching me talk about food. She said it was as though I could taste the words coming out of my mouth. (Those were her words, not mine. To me it sounds a little like vomit, seeing as how it is coming out of my mouth.)

Isn't this plate of food beautiful? This mozarella and pasta dish was prepared and photographed by Framed Cooks. (Talk about feeding my food obsession- she's amazing.)

Her comment got me thinking, and I tried to listen to myself when food came up in conversation. I realized I sound as though I am talking about my first love, or recalling my happiest memory. I love food, I have a passion for food-- not just eating it, but preparing it, admiring it and sharing it. The trick is how to find the balance between my love of the art of food and how eating it makes me feel or is a result of how I feel. How do I enjoy food without using it to calm my nerves or allow a celebratory event to become an excuse to have more food? (What? Armistice Day is not a good enough reason to have a three-course meal and dessert bar?)

In any case, I'm still working on that balance. Let's just say, it will be a lifetime battle-- especially since I just became the proud owner of my very own KitchenAid mixer. Can you see how this might be problem?

Isn't it gorgeous?

Lazy Bones

2011-08-10T07:35:00.000-07:00

We're lazy. All of us. Yes, it is a blanket statement that encompasses every human being. Okay, maybe that is going too far, but you have to admit, it does ring true. If we weren't a lazy society, why would companies continue to produce items that make life easier and keep us lazy? I guess it's kind of a "What came first?" scenario. Do companies produce products because of consumer laziness, or do the products make the consumers lazy?

For example, the electric jar opener. People have been taking jars off lids for years without the help of an electric appliance. I think Black & Decker makes one of these. At least try one of those rubber grip jar openers before you resort to plugging something in.

There are other lazy makers. The jar opener is not alone -- it is just one in a line of products that include jars of jelly with stripes of peanut butter (because if you can't open one jar without an electric jar opener, how can you be expected to open two), electric scissors (really?), crustless bread and easy feet (shown below, and something I considered buying because it was only $6.99).

I am the first person to admit I'm not perfect -- I have been known to call my son on his cellphone when he was just downstairs -- but I can open my own jars, mix my own pb&j, use my muscles to cut a piece of paper, cut the crust off my own bread and I can definitely wash my own feet (although I wouldn't say no to a handsome, topless man fanning me with palm fronds while another one washes my feet).

Get up off your butts and start doing everyday tasks without handholding and running up your electric bill.

Another Life Lesson

2011-08-09T07:23:00.000-07:00

I realized this week how easy it is to get so used to the way we do things that deviating from that, even necessarily, can seem impossible. I was reminded of this by my youngest daughter. Yesterday was her day to clean the kitchen. The kids are on summer break for a few more months and we have given them more and more responsibility as the summer has progressed. Moira was in charge of unloading and loading the dishwasher and doing general cleaning of the entire kitchen. I must add here that Jon did tell them if they were in charge of the kitchen for the day, they got to choose what to watch on TV. This may have contributed to Moira's fast thinking during her chores.

We have almost always had a dishwasher. There were a few years where we didn't and, to be honest, we ate mostly on paper plates. We buy the detergent that comes in a compressed tablet. Usually the kind with the red ball in the middle. I have no idea what the red ball is supposed to do, but if it's there, then it must be special, right? In any case, it's easy to add soap to the dishwasher -- just unwrap the little package and throw it in. We have been out of soap tablets for a few days, and we are using powdered dishwashing detergent in a bright green box -- something I think my sister-in-law left when she moved into a place with no dishwasher. The box is hard to miss and it sits right on top of the dishwasher, a little below eye level on an 11-year-old.

It is so ingrained in Mo that you use the little tablets, that it didn't occur to her there was any other way to run the dishwasher. She didn't want to leave it undone because then she wouldn't be able to watch TV. So... you may have guessed by now that she used liquid dish soap. When I first got home from work, it wasn't apparent what had happened. I opened the dishwasher to get something and noticed bubbles on the bottom. Not a lot. I first thought the dishwasher had not finished it's cycle (it happens sometimes when it is opened prematurely). I started a rinse cycle and not two minutes later bubbles were pouring out of the bottom of the dishwasher and onto the floor. The inside filled with bubbles and after four rinse cycles, it was still a little soapy.

Moira never even saw the box that said "Dishwasher Detergent" in silver. Her mind went directly to the liquid soap, because it seemed the quickest way to get something she wanted -- what she saw as the only option.

I feel like this sometimes. The kids start school again soon and I have to work. I won't be there to see them off to school ( I leave for work shortly after they get up). This is the first year I won't be able to do this. I wouldn't be so upset about it, but Jon won't be there either. I know they are growing up and able to do it themselves, but I am so used to doing it this way, that it seems impossible to do it any other way. I could take a shortcut and arrive late at work, but that isn't really an option. The answer is right in front of my face, but I am so unused to this scenario that I am blind to it.

I need to let them do it for themselves.

Just typing that sentence hurts. All I can think is why did I have to stop working from home? If I hadn't needed to get out of the house so badly I could be there for them. It seems so silly. They are the reason I got a job outside the house, yet this job is the reason I can't be there for them. Crazy how that works, huh? I guess we all reach for the liquid detergent every once in a while.

The Red Shirt

2011-07-23T18:20:00.000-07:00

I spent the last few days in a training seminar on mental health first aid. It was very interesting, and I think is beneficial to anyone, regardless of their field. No matter where I am though, it's the little things that catch my eye and amuse me.

First off, one of the instructors is part of a roller derby team in Moscow, Idaho — The Rolling Hills Derby Dames. She was not shy about recruiting and told me about their "Fresh Meat" days. Apparently, on Wednesdays any woman can come out, regardless of skill, and learn how to be a roller derby dame. After they attend so many Wednesday sessions and master skills such as speed and blocking, they can join in the real fun.

The instructor was a petite woman in her early 40's and she looked me up and down and said, "You should come and join us. I could knock you down. You're like a brick house. It would be fun." Let me just say, I have never been called a brick house, burly maybe, but never a brick house. The thing is, it was not at all offensive. It was said with such admiration and challenge that it was hard get worked up about it.

Later in the day, while the instructor was asking questions of the class (there were also four satellite campuses participating on the screens) she asked one question and no one responded. Everyone just looked blankly at her, or averted their eyes hoping the lack of eye contact would deter her from calling on them. Then she said something that made me laugh out loud and cause the class to look at me suspiciously. She looked at the monitor holding one of the satellite areas and said, "Why don't you give us your take on this." Everyone started looking around for the unlucky student, and the instructor said, "The red shirt. Tell us what you think."

Some of you are unsure why this is funny, but anyone who has ever known someone really into Star Trek gets it. The guy in the red shirt always dies. They are the ones who are dispensable — you never learn their name, and they always meet a sad fate. This student never did come to an untimely end during our training, but it would have happened in a sci-fi flick —I imagine some heavy equipment would have fallen on her head or something.

Writing Away From Home

2011-07-11T19:24:00.000-07:00

Since I started a new job a month ago I feel as though I have been going and going. An 8 to 5 gig with every day responsibility is a lot more work than I thought. Every week was a three-day weekend when I was just writing from home. I love my job, but there are days when I long to be at my desk, eating chocolate-covered raisins and spending hours mulling over a character, but only writing three paragraphs. Now that I'm not at my writing desk every day, I have fallen out of the habit — instead coming home from a day of work and plopping down in front of the TV, begging Jon to make dinner.

I need to set aside more writing time. I have an hour for lunch (who needs an hour to eat lunch?). So, I guess that would be the ideal time, but alas, my writing desk is at home, not at work. Why is it so hard to write in a foreign environment? Some people can plop down anywhere — a random coffee shop, a park, a hotel — but I need to have my own space. I wonder if WSU would let me put my huge writing desk in the architectural garden next to my office building. It would be like a performance piece — "The Displaced Writer".

Until WSU recognizes my need for a comfortable writing space, I will have to make do with what I have — a Cedar Pointe pencil, a pad of recycled lined paper and a forty minutes of imagination.

You Think You're Tough?

2011-05-19T17:29:00.000-07:00

This is what our ten year old does when we aren't around. She uses our computers to make highly amusing videos of herself.

We Need A Dream Interpreter

2011-04-29T18:38:00.000-07:00

Moira told me about a bad dream she had the other night, and I think we might need someone to read her dream. In her dream her class was at an aquarium when the glass broke and fish and sharks went everywhere. This wasn't the scary part though- the scary part was when a clown entered the room and began to eat the glass. Then, with glass in his mouth he started to chew on Moira's wrist and it got all bloody. It was at this point when she woke up to find her wrist curled up under her and sore.

That's disturbing, right?

Excuses, Excuses

2011-04-21T09:22:00.000-07:00

I know I've been MIA lately, but I do have some good excuses.

1. We have been moving to a new house - granted, it is only six blocks from our old house, but it is still moving.

2. There has been a truckload of bad crap happening at work and I seem to be the one who always has to clean it up.

3. Kyle has been playing lacrosse and I am usually the practice chauffeur.

4. I'm tired.

5. I got an iPhone 4.

6. I'm slightly depressed- I need to write, but I seem to have no time.

7. Winter is still happening in our little neck of the woods. It's April 21st (my dad's birthday- woo woot) and it is snowing this morning.

Now that I have made my life look sad an pathetic, here is a random picture for you to dwell on. I saw this car in front of me at a stop sign and had to take a picture. I know you can only see it from behind, but take my word for it, it is very cool.

What You Missed Because I'm Lazy

2011-03-21T11:20:00.000-07:00

I uploaded photos from my camera this weekend and found all our pictures from Christmas and basically the last four months or so. I don't know how I have neglected it this long, but I thought I would share some snow photos.

Keep in mind, snow is not a thing of the past here in North Idaho. This last week, just when we though spring had finally started to bring us rain and some sun, it snowed on Friday. I'm crossing my fingers right now that it doesn't happen again until next winter. (It's kind of hard to type with your fingers crossed. They are beginning to cramp, so maybe I should just knock on wood.)

Jon got a little crazy with our snow blower this year and took all the snow in the backyard and blew it into a pile so the kids could sled. Later on, he actually made a maze with the additional snow so you had to weave around our yard to get out the back gate.

Kyle was buried alive at one point:

And of course, you can't go anywhere in the cold without your winter-weather wear. Moira can tell you that:

I know you're thinking she must be cold in shorts, but alas, she has her socks to keep her warm:

New Family Member

2011-03-21T10:53:00.000-07:00

The kids got a new sister this last weekend — a chocolate lab. We adopted a lab this weekend from the local shelter. She is only a year old, and we named her Lulu. She really is a great dog. We have not been eager to get another dog since Dot died. I mean, how can you replace perfection in a pet?

But, we are soon to move into a bigger house, and we decided it was time. My mom was here visiting for the week so she went with us, and I have to say, it was love at first sight — on both sides. Lulu seems to adore everyone.

When the girls left the house this morning she stood at the window for quite a while waiting for them to come back. Jon finally had to distract her with a decapitated stuffed animal.

We are fortunate to have found such a loving, well-behaved dog. It's nice to have a pet in the house again. Nothing against our leopard gecko Calvin, but a dog is bit more snuggly.

Earthquakes and Tsunamis Are Not Sexy

2011-03-11T14:22:00.000-08:00

The Weather Channel anchor describing the slip plates of a great earthquake: "This is commonly referred to as the mega thrust in a seduction zone." Really?

I am happy to report my family and friends who might have been affected by the disaster are safe. I am praying for all of injured and missing in Japan and the families of those who died.

My Mom Is Coming To Visit

2011-03-09T10:14:00.001-08:00

That is all.

Porn For Handymen or Artists — Okay, any man really.

2011-03-03T10:58:00.000-08:00

I read so many blogs where the authors seem to have such interesting lives and I wonder, why isn't my life more interesting? The most excitement we get in our house these days is when the Sears tool catalog arrives in the mail. I can forget about Jon even looking at me, let alone kissing me, for days. Why would he need my affection when he can page through the one-inch thick semi-gloss pages of all the things he wants but can't afford?

Does Sears know their catalog is akin to porn? Jon was drooling over some sort of vice grip he saw this morning as I was leaving for work. He said, "You should have thrown this away and not given it to me." So, I ripped it out of his hands and threw it in the trash can. His reply: "You know I'm just going to dig that out after you leave, right?" I'm grateful it is just full of tools and not naked women. Maybe Jon will make a collage of all the things he wants from Sears and post it on our bedroom wall to remind me what he wants for Father's Day. As long as it isn't on our ceiling above our bed, I'm okay with it.

It's Only Noon And I Want Dinner

2011-03-02T12:58:00.000-08:00

I plan on making spanakopita for dinner tonight. This Greek dish is made with phyllo dough and is packed with spinach, feta and ricotta cheeses and garlic — lots of garlic. My kids have been begging me to make this dish. This surprises me, because this isn't usually the sort of thing they like. It might be they like it because I make them in little pockets, so they are great finger foods. No silverware required.

What Happened to Spring?

2011-03-01T10:46:00.000-08:00

It is March 1st, yet North Idaho looks more like December. After a week or so of early spring rain and the on and off light of sun, we now have more snow. It has been snowing for the last week or so and last night we saw at least a foot. Here are some pictures from our front yard.

It's Finally Here!

2011-03-01T09:52:00.000-08:00

My two short stories have finally come out in print. The Literary Lab's Notes From Underground Anthology is available starting today on Amazon. Here is the link to buy the book in paperback and also in ebook for Kindle.

You can also purchase the book from CreateSpace. A larger percentage of money from CreateSpace purchases goes to the charity — The Writer's Emergency Assistance Fund. So, to help us donate even more money, you can buy books there.

The books are reasonably priced at $10 a piece. I am so excited. I ordered several copies this morning and urge all of you to do the same.

I feel like I have accomplished something huge, and it gives me a little push in the right direction. I am reinvigorated and even feel like I can begin to submit more of my stories for publication. Forget about rejections — I welcome them. I have been writing more lately and might take some time off from work soon to really delve into it.

Another Day, Another Storm

2011-02-15T09:33:00.000-08:00

It's snowing again. After several blissful weeks of no snow and our plow guy for work telling me he was leaving early for his Florida home, a snow storm rolls in. Huge, wet flakes are coating the ground and it seems the city must have retired their snow plows for the year as well, as they are non-existent. I can feel this day slipping further down on the list of my favorite days. I should have stayed in bed.

On a brighter note, we signed Mo up for an after-school program that employs college students to help with homework. Thank goodness. Every afternoon there is a homework melt down in our house and to know I don't have to deal with it three days out of the week is awesome. That makes me sound like a bad mom doesn't it?

I interviewed for an amazing job last week and have yet to hear anything. Pretty sure that is bad news. I meant to call them yesterday but I wasn't in the mood for rejection. I guess I better put my big girl panties on today and do the deed. I'm not sure how much longer I can work in my current job without committing a heinous crime. I have an office assistant now though, which is a tremendous help. She had an interview with a bank the other day and I was happy for her to leave this place before it turned her heart black, but she didn't get the job. Truth be told, I did a little happy dance in my office. I know it's selfish, but this job is a lot easier to take when you can share the misery.

Save Powell's, Save Books

2011-02-10T11:42:00.000-08:00

I was sad to hear Powell's Books in Portland had to layoff more than 30 employees this week. They say this is in response to consumer spending, or lack thereof, where books are concerned. I think e-books are neat, and I know lots of people like their Kindles, but I would rather have a solid book in my hands any day.

So, I am starting a campaign to save books from eventual extinction and Powell's employees from unemployment. I implore you, dear readers, to buy a book (new or used) from Powell's and other book stores around the nation. I plan on going to their website right now and doing my part.

You can find almost everything you are looking for at the Powell's Books website.

Here is the news story about the layoffs:

Powell’s Layoffs

10 February 2011

Powell’s, the largest independent new and used bookstore in the world, announced via press release (PDF) Tuesday that it would lay off 31 employees. The layoffs affect only unionized employees; no corporate/management jobs were axed. According to the release, the cuts were made due to changes in “consumer behavior,” which

has changed dramatically over the past several years. It’s a story that’s hard to miss with daily articles about the book industry, the future of physical bookstores, and the rise of eBooks. As technology evolves, Powell’s expects consumer reading behavior to continue to change as new options and formats for reading develop and improve over time.

The cuts — which affect employees at retail locations in Portland and Beaverton and in the company’s warehouses — were announced by Emily Powell, who said, “I feel it is critical to make some very difficult adjustments at this time, to address our current reality and to prepare the company for success in the future, a future that looks very different than our business today.”

A report in The Oregonian by Laura Gunderson quotes union rep Ryan Van Winkle saying that the layoffs represent more than 7 percent off staff, not counting management and security guards. The laid-off workers were predominantly full-time and most were retail sales staff. About 25 percent worked in technical operations on the store’s website. It was the first round of layoffs since the workers formed an union in 2000.

In an internal e-mail memo distributed to employees and posted on the Portland Mercury site, the company notes that

Sales for this fiscal year are down and we expect this trend will continue. The largest decreases have been in new book sales. We see this as a clear indication that we are losing sales to electronic books and reading devices. Given the company’s declining sales, combined with industry data on the rapid growth of electronic book sales, we expect to see continuing erosion of new book sales over the next few years. While we believe we can compensate for some of the loss with solid used book sales and growth in gift sales, the erosion of new book sales will continue to take its toll.

The memo further points out that Powell’s will reduce benefits to non-union employees by initiating a pay freeze on July 1, and suspending the company’s 401(k) contributions effective Feb. 21st–both for at least a year. Employees who are members of the union will receive complete pay and benefits, the company said. While those cuts should be enough to offset the current fiscal year’s sales decline, further drop in sales would mean more cuts.

This story is from the following website:
http://mhpbooks.com/mobylives/?p=27989

Because My Current Job Isn't Humiliating Enough

2011-01-30T14:44:00.000-08:00

What exactly is "my way" anyhow?

Barista/new stand (pullman)

Date: 2011-01-28, 7:40AM PST
Reply to: job-tgm4c-2184665683@craigslist.org ^{[Errors when replying to ads?]}

Opening new bikini coffee stand in high volume business district. Location is opening in late february, not yet sure of exact date. Send reume and picture. Experience is not required but is a plus. I have been doing this for years so you may have to learn "my way" of doing things. I will be setting up interviews next week.

Location: pullman
Compensation: min+tips
Principals only. Recruiters, please don't contact this job poster.
Please, no phone calls about this job!
Please do not contact job poster about other services, products or commercial interests.

PostingID: 2184665683

My Dream Self Is Sabotaging My Life

2011-01-26T16:17:00.000-08:00

Have you ever been so nervous about something that it creeps into every aspect of your life? I have a second interview on Monday for a job I really, really want, but I am so nervous about not making a good impression that I have begun to dream about it.

Last night I dreamt I was in the interview in front of a panel and I formed the most perfect answers to all of their questions. I was so poised and confident. My answers were eloquent and right on the spot. It was wonderful.

Then I woke up and I started to sweat and my stomach started to hurt. How could I ever live up to my dream? Now I feel there are unreal expectations from my dream self about how my interview will go. I am now stressing about what I will wear, which shoes to choose, even how to wear my hair so I look like a person they want to hire.

I will be glad when the interview is over. But for now, I have to keep myself from chewing my fingernails down to nothing and stressing about whether or not I need new slacks.

Potential Work-From-Home Opportunity?

2011-01-21T13:42:00.000-08:00

I found this advertisement on Craigslist this week while browsing for jobs. I think it could be a lucrative work-at-home opportunity. I wonder if I would be any good at it? I guess I could start practicing.

I really like that the title of the ad has a question mark behind it, as if the advertisers were unsure what to call it, or what would pass through the censors at Craigslist. This seems to do it. When you say it you have to say it like a question. It's kind of hard to do.

Phone Actressing? (U.S.)

Date: 2011-01-20, 8:24AM PST
Reply to: job-kp7sf-2170413616@craigslist.org ^{[Errors when replying to ads?]}

Can you work a minimum of 20 hours per week?

Do you have a landline telephone, and if not, are you willing to get one?

Do you have DSL or Cable to run your high speed internet service?

Do you feel comfortable using the internet?

Do you feel comfortable having adult chat?

Do you have COMPLETE privacy to talk since you will be working from the comforts of your own home?

Are you hard-working?

If you answered yes to all these questions, please contact us for further details.

**Make sure to check all Spam and Junk folders for a response within 24 hours.**

**We look forward to hearing from you!**

Location: U.S.
Compensation: 10 minutes - $10
Principals only. Recruiters, please don't contact this job poster.
Please, no phone calls about this job!
Please do not contact job poster about other services, products or commercial interests.

PostingID: 2170413616

Birthdays

2011-01-10T16:02:00.001-08:00

Yuck!

Craigslist Originality

2011-01-03T14:02:00.000-08:00

I often browse the local Craigslist to look for items or to put items up for sale. Last week, I was looking through the community section where people post classes, events and rideshare information. I clicked on the lost and found section just in case I had lost something and didn't know about it. (Highly unlikely, but I was bored.)

My boredom was quickly banished by the following found ad. I think I could be friends with the author of this ad. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.

Chris of 10,000 Songs- I found your iPod!!! ((UI Campus))

Date: 2010-12-23, 9:49AM PST
Reply to: comm-pcck7-2127033729@craigslist.org ^{[Errors when replying to ads?]}

Hey, Chris of 10,000 Songs – sorry it’s taken me a week+ to get around posting about your Ipod. I found it lying on the ground on the UI campus during Dead Week, stuck it in my book bag, and totally forgot about it until after Finals.

I’d really like to return this impressive musical compilation to you (10,000+ songs! That must be like 30 days of nonstop listening!) but, I’m going to need your help:

First, I removed the protective cover to check for identifying marks; tattoos, birthmarks, dental records, dry cleaning tags, anything (a name or email address would have been handy) and what did I find? A ton of identifying marks! Only, none helpful. Your Ipod must lead an interesting life – what does it do in its spare time? Bar fights? Death-defying leaps from moving vehicles at high speeds? Stunt doubles as an auxiliary Ninja throwing projectile? Self-mutilation? And now, it has run away to join the circus! I am amazed. How does an Ipod get so many dents, nicks and scratches? Good job on the protective cover, btw. You might want to consider a leash for this bad boy, too!

Next, I poked around a little on the drive. That’s how I found out your name is Chris, and that you have Ten Thousand songs. Gee, I thought I had a lot of music, but I am totally humbled. What are you? A part-time DJ? Long-haul truck driver? College student with unlimited resources? But then, that last is any oxymoron. So I suppose someone like RIAA, ASCAP, the FBI, would like to talk to you about your downloading practices– but, don’t worry, my friend, I won’t tell. By the way, would those naked photos be of you – or your girlfriend? (Just kidding Chris’s Mom, there are no photos, naked or otherwise).

Finally, as a last resort, I am posting a Lost and Found notice. To prevent all the Psuedo-Chris, Anti-Chris, and other sneaky Chris Wanna-bees from stepping up and claiming your Ipod and its b*ttload of titles, however, you will need to provide some specific information so I can be sure that you are you.

These possible details about your Ipod could include:
Description: (Well officer, it was Ipodish, in a general kind of way) – or not.
Memory size: (Let’s see, 10,000 songs, it must be at least …..) – insert lucky guess.
Serial #: (Does anyone know the serial# of their Ipod – I mean really!)
Protective Covering: (Material? Color? Brand?) – Hmmm. Getting better.
Playlists: (“On-the-Go”, “Purchased”, “Workout”) – Rigggghhhht. Let’s try something only you would know.
Songs: (Well, there are at least 10,000 possibilities….) – insert another lucky guess.

As there doesn’t seem to be any single foolproof criteria, we will have to shoot for a combination, here’s what I propose:

Simply tell me: the day you lost it, describe the color and material of Protective covering (bonus points if you remember the brand), the name of a personalized playlist or two, along with a complete list of all 10,000 songs and I’ll be happy to make arrangements to get your Ipod back to you!

(Just kidding about the song list – 1 or 2 thousand titles should be fine. ☺)

As an added criteria you should probably consider a short essay, 250 words or less, explaining the artistic, social, or other redeeming value of “metalcore”. While I totally appreciate the depth and variety of your collection overall (Black Keys – thumbs up!), as I was researching I sampled a few tracks of the various “artists” with whom I was unfamiliar, such as I Killed the Prom Queen, It Dies Today, Lamb of God, etc. After I finished screaming “Make it stop! Make it stop!” and throwing your Ipod repeatedly against the wall (Oh – maybe that’s where all the nicks and dents a coming from!) I went and stuck a pencil in my eye. On purpose.

To save you from similar discomfort, and to protect your Ipod from future damage, I took the initiative to delete all the “metalcore” titles for you and replaced them with “The Carpenter’s Greatest Hits”, “The Essential Barry Manilow”, and, as an added bonus, the extended play version of “Macarena”. (OK, jk again – but seriously what is that sh*t?)

I’m about to leave for the holiday break, but, if you respond with the correct info, I’ll make arrangements to get your Ipod back to you. Of course, if you’re really lucky, you’ll get a new one as a present and then this one can be a backup.

Merry Christmas!

Proffesional Wrestling Has A Lot More Ooh And Aah

2010-12-23T22:55:00.000-08:00

I think I own those blue shoes.

Went to a wrestling match last night in Colfax, WA. Wasn't anything like the real thing. Just a bunch of sweaty high school boys playing rough on a mat while fathers shouted what sounded like odd obscenities at them and their wives told them to calm down. There were no catchy names, unless you count Knezovich (the son of the Spokane County sheriff). I was hoping for something a little meatier, like The Devastator or The Boulder. The outfits were a little boring as well. The closest they got to the real thing was the one with the pirate on the thigh. Granted, it was made from spandex and kept riding up the poor kid's bum, but it was something. (I later learned the whole team wore the same outfits. No individuality at all.)

Wrestling terms are something else. It's like a foreign language, and if you didn't know better you might think everyone was talking about break dancing or strippers. For example, the hip pop, hip heist and hip lock are not just for prostitutes. Neither are the undercup, swisher, belly down or drive him over his ear.

While this is all very serious stuff to the parents and coaches who attend the meets, it all sounds a little crazy to me. Also, another observation: Washington wrestling families seem to be quite the rednecks. I thought North Idaho was bad, but apparently Eastern Washington has quite a pull for them as well.

In all seriousness though, I found myself clenching my every muscle as I watched the matches. My jaw actually hurt when we left two hours later. Those boys took some serious beatings and I never saw any tears. (They probably waited until they were home in their rooms and well away from their peers and their dads.)

Past, Present and Future: The Ghost of Everyday Gloom

2010-12-22T14:01:00.000-08:00

Leo G. Carroll as Jacob Marley in the 1938 version of Charles Dickens' "A Christmas Carol"

Yesterday, I had a visit from the "emaciated Frankenstein" who lives upstairs from my office. Our conversation included a little bit more information than I cared to know. He visited three times, kind of like in "A Christmas Carol." So, in the spirit of the holidays I will tell his side of the conversation (in direct quotes) as though he were the three ghosts who visited Ebenezer Scrooge.
P.S. I am not necessarily saying I am Scrooge, but when it comes to this guy I just want him to stay out of my office. He is depressing.

The ghost of Christmas past:
"I used to be a carpet layer and linoleum and tile and other flooring types. Really, that's what I used to do for a living -- for 20 years. I know it's hard to believe it now. I have lost quite a bit of weight since I got all of my various diseases. I used to be handsome and have hair."

The ghost of Christmas present
"I just spent three days in the hospital. The doctor knows I don't like it so he sent me home early. Being in the hospital makes me really mad. It's hard for me to have a bowel movement when I'm angry."

The ghost of Christmas future
"I have battled cancer and colitis and blah blah blah blah blah*** so I'm sure there is just one more thing for me around the corner. Next year I could be dead, but that is something to worry about after the holidays."

***I tuned out the list of diseases at this point. Plus, I probably couldn't have spelled them anyway.

Annual Christmas Newsletters

2010-12-22T13:04:00.000-08:00

Forward: I was feeling super grumpy when I wrote this. I know it sounds kind of bitter, but I am good now.

Each year my family receives multiple family newsletters from extended family and friends. They are usually several pages long and extol the virtues of every one of their family members — the baby who got her first tooth, the third grader who scored two goals this soccer season, the goals they have to remodel their homes, the grandmother who moved in with them and made them so happy to be together. Blah, blah, blah, blah blah.

No one ever includes the rotten things that happened to them that year. So, this is my official, unofficial 2010 first annual Christmas newsletter with no happy embellishments or cherries on top.

This year, we had to buy a used, slightly skanky car after my beloved VW Vanagon died and required more money to repair than we make in six months.

This year, my mother and father-in-law moved away and their two grown children came to live near us (one of them with us). *aside* While this is not truly bad it does merit a mention.

This year, our teenage son had to have major surgery on his leg because of a non-ossifying fibroma. He now has a rod in his calf.

This year, our eldest daughter got an electrical burn and had to be rushed to the burn unit at Harborview Medical Center in Seattle.

This year, I finished a degree and couldn't find a job to save my life.

This year, I found a job and it may just kill me.

This year, our dog went missing and was never found.

Merry Christmas and Happy stinkin' New Year!

I Need Some Cheerleaders

2010-12-10T16:36:00.000-08:00

I am on the final stretch of revisions for my short story, "Reflecting the Imperfect." I am really cutting it close to my deadline of December 16th and I need some people to cheer me on.

Do you have any words of encouragement for me? Words of wisdom are welcome as well.

Convicted or Conviction?

2010-12-09T12:40:00.000-08:00


This is the part that confuses me.

Either these people have been ordered to build this cross as part of their parole or they are just a little confused about word usage. What could they have done for a judge to order them to build a ginormous cross on their property complete with solar lighting?

The Princess is Where? Doing What? No More Fairytales

2010-12-07T11:40:00.000-08:00

What would happen if Cinderella just couldn't take it anymore or Red Riding Hood discovered fast food or Jasmine entered a war zone? Dina Goldstein knows:

Thank you to Bite the Bedbugs for introducing me to Dina Goldstein's photograph series Fallen Princesses.

Learning Humility and Thankfulness

2010-12-06T10:52:00.000-08:00

I have been away from my blog for far too long. I started to get itchy fingers this morning and decided there was no time like the present to post.

It's December and the city is filled with snow. Signs of the holiday are everywhere — you can't escape them. From the Christmas music playing in the stores, on the radio and even in the street to the tinseled streetlights and houses dripping with icicle lights.

I have had a hard time getting into the Christmas spirit the last few years. Last year, it wasn't until just before Christmas Eve I felt really happy for the holiday. I put up my little tree this weekend, and even though I usually delight in placing the ornaments evenly around the circumference, this year, I let Moira and Maggie do all the decorating. They did a fabulous job. I sat on the couch and watched two, yes two, Hallmark Christmas movies this weekend. They both made me cry (one because of the emotional ending and one because the acting was so terrible). Still, I am not quite ready for the holidays to begin.

Each year we try to do something for someone less fortunate than ourselves. It brings a little humility and always makes us thankful for what we have. Most years we pick a family and do the 12 days of Christmas — leaving them small gifts and home baked goodies. This year, Jon had a different idea. For two weeks out of the month we are not having regular dinners. Instead, we are choosing two countries — the first is Mexico — and eating what those in the poorer regions eat. This week we will be dining on rice and beans (small portions), tortillas and maybe one dinner that involves chicken. The money we would normally spend has been put toward purchasing the items for a few Christmas dinners and miscellaneous non-perishable foods. We will take this all to the food bank this week.

I am grateful my kids don't have to be cajoled into doing this. They know we are blessed and have no problems giving to others. Hopefully, this will put me in the true Christmas spirit and I can enjoy the holiday with my wonderful family knowing we did something for someone else.

Facebook Infidelity

2010-11-17T12:22:00.000-08:00

A New Jersey pastor has told his married church leaders they must delete their Facebook pages or resign. He claims he has spent the last six months counseling couples whose relationships have been ruined after one of them had reconnected with an old flame.

You can read the news story here:

After seeing marriages crumble, pastor tells church leaders they can't use Facebook

I have a Facebook account, and it has allowed me to stay in touch with a lot of people I might not have found otherwise. I don't think Facebook is ruining marriages by giving couples a better opportunity to cheat on their spouses. People who are going to cheat will do it with or without Facebook. Facebook may just make them feel less dirty about it because at least they used to have a relationship with the person. People and their stupid choices are at fault, not social networking sites.

Notice I only said Facebook doesn't make people cheat. There are plenty of other ways Facebook can ruin a marriage. For example, I see some of my Facebook friends posting notes on their spouse's wall telling them how wonderful they are and they miss them. It's a little nauseating sometime, but not a bad thing. It's a bad thing when you are sitting side by side on the couch "watching" TV with your iPhone in your hand doing it. It's a bad thing when you start to get tired of sucking up to your spouse all the time and begin to use Facebook as a "Honey Do" list: Take out the trash, wash the dishes, do laundry, make dinner and for heaven's sake, stop leaving your socks all over the living room floor. (Okay, that last bit came from my own frustration, but you get the point.)

How do you feel about Facebook? Do you think social networking sites are making it easier to cheat?

He's Always Listening

2010-11-15T16:00:00.000-08:00

Some people might think from the title this post is about God. It isn't. It's about sleeping and being studied while you sleep. Okay, so maybe it is kind of about God, in a round about sort of way.)

My son was referred to a sleep center by his doctor recently. He is concerned Kyle might have sleep apnea.When the center called to schedule the appointment they spoke with Jon. They explained to him that because Kyle was under 18 one of his parents would have to stay the night with him at the sleep center. Jon was kind enough to schedule the study on his own birthday. (I'm sure this was purposeful, as he knew I wouldn't make him sleep at a sleep center on his birthday.)

Kyle and I arrived at the center on Friday evening and had to fill out some forms before Kyle was all "hooked up." The room looked like a hotel room with the exception of the myriad of electrical wires stacked in neat piles on the bed.

I had been dreading the study for days. What if I snored or drooled or walked in my sleep or said something embarrassing in my sleep? There were cameras pointing at the bed, but not in the living room area where I was to sleep on a fold out couch. (I use the word sleep very loosely here.) I was starting to feel a little more comfortable after the technician explained he would monitor Kyle from another room to keep track of his breathing patterns etc. (In my head I had imagined a room with a two-way mirror -- like in all the homicide TV shows -- where the technician and several other observers would sit and watch all night long thinking they had fooled us into believing it was really just a mirror and not a window.)

It wasn't until right before the technician left the room that I began to panic all over again. His exact words: "If you need anything just say 'Mark, I need you.' I'll be listening to the room all night."

Seriously? Listening all night? Th room was wired for sound? Does this mean he had been listening while Kyle and I were discussing his "too young to be a doctor" look and how I was sure to embarrass myself when the lights went out and they discovered I probably have a sleep disorder too?

When it was all said and done it wasn't too bad. Kyle had me take a picture of his head once he was hooked up so he could show it to his friends and say, "Those wires were the only thing keeping me alive." What can I say? Kyle is weird, and he takes after his dad.

I Don't Think It Was Involved In A Violent Act

2010-11-06T14:16:00.000-07:00

A girl came into my office the other day concerned about something she had taken out of her old apartment before she moved out. She said when she was cleaning she found a door inside the mop closet. When she opened the door there was a plastic bag inside. She paused here and all I could think was, 'Please don't let it be something gross I am going to have to clean.'

She said there was a blazer in the bag. "A very expensive handmade blazer." She thought she would keep it since no one but her had lived in the apartment for the past year. These were her exact words: "I checked it for blood and everything, and it seems fine."

I found that very amusing. It's not like she lives in a bad neighborhood and her apartment was really nice. What made her mind go directly to blood, and who checks for stuff like that? Has she experienced something like this before? Maybe she once found another item of clothing in a mysterious closet wrapped in a plastic bag and found it covered in blood.

I don't know. It's just weird.

Election Day

2010-11-02T16:21:00.000-07:00

Today is voting day. I like to vote. I like to know I got a chance to say what I want and who I think will best represent me. I like getting the "I Voted" sticker and wearing it all day.

Last week, a young man came to our door asking for Jon. I called Jon over and the young man said, "I'm coming by to remind you that next week is election day. I want to remind you to vote." Note, he only asked for Jon. No one came looking for me? What the heck is that about? Doesn't my vote count too? Did the voter reminder people get confused when I told the Democratic survey kid a few months ago that I am Conservatively Liberal? I thought it was a clever way to explain my politics without having to check Democrat or Republican. Regardless of whether they want me to vote or not -- I did. So there.

The Mystery Man

2010-11-02T14:20:00.000-07:00

I finally met the mystery tenant I have been hearing about for a few weeks. He looks a bit like an emaciated Frankenstein, but other than that he seems pretty nice. (I wonder if I would've compared him to someone else if it weren't so close to Halloween.)

I have heard some interesting stories about his interaction with the other office managers so I have been dreading the day he realized I was here. I can see a little bit of crazy in his eyes, but he suppresses it pretty well. He is a bit of an oversharer though, and I am hoping he likes to keep to himself more than he likes to come sit on the couch in my office and have a chat. We shall see.

It Is Too Good To Be True

2010-11-02T11:04:00.000-07:00

I have been getting a deluge of rent checks the past few days at work. What's up with everyone waiting to the very last minute? I got a check from John Grisham. I would love to fanticize that the famous author lives here and I could go visit him and he could help me with my short story and tell me what a wonderful writer I am and how he wants to hook me up with his agent. But then, when I think about where I work, I think that if it really were THE John Grisham he must have fallen on very hard times because his rent is only $579 and the building was built in the '40s and not in a good way.

Oh well, somewhere near me, maybe in my own house, there is a future famous author.

Three Days of Halloween

2010-10-30T12:57:00.000-07:00

Since Halloween is on a Sunday this year the whole town has decided to celebrate from Friday to Sunday. Last night we took the girls trick or treating at the mall and Kyle went to a school dance. Tonight is a trunk or treat and Halloween party for church and tomorrow the kids are going trick or treating in our neighborhood.

Jon has literally mapped out their trick or treating area. I'm not sure if Jon's intention is to keep them safe or to maximize candy gathering. He did tell Moira this morning that getting candy is her job tomorrow and she must trick or treat from six to nine. She didn't seem to have a problem with that. Go figure.

Here are the first of the Halloween pictures. Maggie is a vampire — "Not a Twilight vampire, but a real old-fashioned vampire." Kyle is a zombie — which is kind of what he is like in the morning before school anyway. Moira is, well Moira is Moira.

She was supposed to be salt and pepper (her idea). We had gotten everything for her costume, but she quickly changed her tune this last week. We found boxes of clothes left behind by a tenant in June when they moved out of the apartments I manage. I brought them home to find dress up clothes for the girls and Moira found her "Soul Train" outfit. The types of clothes make me wonder where and how the tenant was employed. Anyway, Moira is a "'80s or '70s person who dances. Is that right, mom?"

The End of a Season

2010-10-30T12:42:00.000-07:00

Moira's soccer season came to an end this month. She had so much fun playing she wants to do it all again in the spring. (Yeah, more dashing from work to soccer field to practice to school to work to the grocery store... you get the picture.)

I was really proud of how Moira gave it her all.

Don't you love her socks? She is definitely an original.

High School Classmate Dies Suddenly

2010-10-28T10:20:00.000-07:00

A friend of mine forwarded me this story last night, and it made me sad. Mike and I went to high school together. He was very charismatic and I remember he was a great golfer--playing for the high school team. Knowing he and I are the same age makes his sudden death even more scary. Things like this really put life into perspective. My thoughts and prayers are with his family and friends.

Found in the Inland Valley Daily Bulletin:

Long driver Moulton dead at 35

Staff Report

Created: 10/26/2010 11:16:14 PM PDT

UPLAND - In a world of big swingers, one of the most visible and popular of golf's long drivers will be absent at the RE/MAX World Championships that start today. Mike Moulton, who once powered a drive 475 yards in competition, died unexpectedly Monday night in his Upland home following a sudden illness. He was 35.
Moulton, known as "Lava" within the long driving community, had quite a resume in professional power golf. A winner at the 2000 PacBell Classic, he was fourth in the 2001 World Championships and finished third on the 2002 LDA Tour money list.
A member of the Pinnacle Distance Team, Moulton promoted the brand at outings and appearances across North America.
"Mike was a tremendous competitor and showman," said Art Sellinger, LDA's chief executive officer, in a prepared statement. "He had a knack for creating tremendous rapport with his gallery. Feedback we received about Mike's appearances was literally off the charts.
"He will be greatly missed by a great many people inside and outside of the sport long drive."
The 6-foot-5, 255-pound Moulton first came to national prominence in 2000 as he hit three drives between 445 and 449 yards at a long-drive event in Fresno.
He competed against Tiger Woods in junior events in Southern California and later played at Bakersfield Community College. He also played one season for Cal State San Bernardino.
"Tiger could spank it pretty good, but I was always the
freak of the tournament," Moulton told the Los Angeles Times in a 2002 interview. A tribute to Moulton is scheduled today before the world championships at the Mesquite Sports and Event Complex in Mesquite, Nev.
Moulton is survived by his parents, Don and Kathy, and daughter, Ashlee.

Link to the story here:
Mike Moulton Dies

Because Six Just Wasn't Enough

2010-10-26T16:35:00.000-07:00

Seven New Uses For Old Shotgun Shells

Have I Mentioned I Love Halloween?

2010-10-26T16:31:00.000-07:00

Sugar and gingerbread cookies with coconut royal icing. This is what October is all about. Okay, it's about Breast Cancer Awareness and fall and other things too, but this is what it should be about.

Getting Your Husband to Do The Chores

2010-10-26T16:23:00.000-07:00

This is the conversation I had with a tenant at the apartments I work at: (She had just received a notice about clearing the space in front of her door where she had several boxes piled up. Keep in mind she has a very thick Hispanic accent- it helps if you read it aloud with the accent. I think it is much more amusing this way.)

Her: I got da notice you posted on my door and I was all worried. My huband saw it and was like, why haben't you picked up thoe boxes yet?

Me: Everyone received a similar notice. Is there a problem?

Her: Oh, no. I jut tell my huband I had to put da boxes in the ban to take to Goowill. I told him the boxes would go as soon as I put them in the ban. He wah not hoppy wit me. He said we got a notice because I did not keep things clean. Then he got all the boxes and put them in my ban.

Me: Thank you for getting that cleaned up. I appreciate you doing it so quickly.

Her: No prolem. The next time I need my huband to do something could you post a notice on my door? Then maybe he do more than put stuff in my ban for me.

Me: (Trying not to laugh) I'll see what I can do. (Smile...)

This exchange killed me. I still am not sure if she was totally serious or not. I hope she doesn't come to my office tommorow and ask me to post a notice about keeping the floors vacuumed or the dishes washed.

It's There Because Someone Was Stupid Enough To Do It

2010-10-19T20:56:00.000-07:00

I was sorting through old leasing contracts at work today when I took time to really read through the pet agreements.

(Keep in mind I live in North Idaho and the company I work for only has properties in North Idaho and Eastern Washington.)

The pet agreement prohibits tenants from having certain types of animals on the property, including a variety of different dog breeds. Dogs like Rottweilers, Pit Bulls and Chows are not allowed. After this list, is the list of other restricted pets: hawking birds, primates and prairie dogs.

Really? We have to actually put it in writing that you can't have a prairie dog as a pet? (I should probably be just as surprised by the bird and primate provision but, strangely enough, I'm stuck on the prairie dogs.)

They may be cute but they are just squirrels with short tails.

I told Jon this and he reminded me it wouldn't be there if it hadn't been attempted. This goes for the warnings on laundry detergent to not ingest it or on skater's beanies warning they are not a substitute for helmets.

Soccer is Supposed to Be Fun

2010-10-14T10:19:00.000-07:00

My youngest daughter plays soccer. She has returned to the sport after an unfortunate incident in 2006. During her first game, of her first-ever season playing soccer, she went in as goalie. Then she got hit in the face with a soccer ball. She sat on the sidelines the rest of the game refusing to play. Four years later, she got excited about it again. She is having a blast. Me, not so much.

I had this idea in my head of sitting on the bleachers with other moms talking about our awesome children and not caring that some of us were homemakers and others were career moms. I thought youth soccer would unite us. It started out this way. I learned all the other kid's names and cheered for them as much as I did my own daughter. I spoke with moms about their child's teachers and we chatted about the weather and laughed at the comedy of errors happening on the field.

Last night ruined all of that for me. Last night, I sat next to a woman I have known for a few years. She is a nice person. I like her, but last night just sitting next to her made me feel fat and ugly. She didn't do it on purpose. She owns a local gym in town. She has an amazing body — you should see her calves (she could break a person's neck with them). She was speaking with one of the moms last night — one who I had several pleasant, uneventful conversations with in the past — and mentioned that she broke her foot during a marathon last week. The same marathon she finished — even with broken bones. She went on to say that she could not stand being dormant and not working out so she was going to teach her pilates class anyway and still do a few spinning classes each week.

So, I know what you're thinking — 'So what, she likes to exercise?' That's the problem. Even with a broken foot and in pain, she gets out of bed every morning excited to exercise and stay fit. I, on the other hand, intend on getting up and go running most mornings. Then, I pull the covers over my head, sleep too long and have to rush to get ready for work. While working I proceed to stuff my face with croissants and diet soda (taking the occasional break to make a batch of cookies). Dang that woman. She made me feel guilty. I hate guilt (when it's my own).

So, what is the solution? I suppose I am going to have to actually exercise every day now. I should probably stop eating junk too, but I'll have to ease into it. And next week, I will show up to every game in my track suit, just to show her that I do exercise. Come to think of it, the closest thing I have to a track suit are the sweats I sleep in. I guess that's better for me. I won't even have to get dressed those days. I'll just wear my pajamas/tracksuit right out of bed and to soccer.

Bigfoot and Deliverance

2010-10-09T15:33:00.000-07:00

I had to share this after I found it on another blog. The Ellsworth family, who used to live in my hometown, attended a Bigfoot Convention where Rachel saw this sign. (To see the whole post visit Come What May.

I love "Deliverance" references.

My Artificial KitchenAid Mixer Sucks

2010-10-09T15:12:00.000-07:00

I've wanted a KitchenAid stand mixer for a long time, but I can never get myself to spend the money. Last month, the hand mixer I got for my wedding (15 years ago) broke and I was debating whether to a buy a new one or save some money for the real deal. I decided to save money, but in the meantime I also needed something to replace my mixer. I bought the monster of all wooden spoons.

I thought, why not spend some energy doing it the old-fashioned way, right? It has been okay so far—it has built up my upper arm muscles if nothing else. Today, I realized that my fake KitchenAid is a poor substitute for the real thing.

Two words — Molasses Cookies. The recipe makes a huge amount of cookies, but I haven't made them in a year and I just started to add ingredients to my bowl. I creamed the shortening and sugar together using my wooden spoon and it wasn't bad, but then I had to add the molasses, several other ingredients and eight cups of flour. It was so bad my daughters took turns holding the bowl still while I used both hands and all of my strength to mix it. In the end, I ended up finishing it off with my hands (which, if you ask anyone who knows me well, totally grosses me out).

The end result is deliciousness, but I couldn't lift a cup to my lips for the rest of the day. Who needs a gym? Oh wait, I probably should go to the gym to work off these cookies, or I could just make more. It's a vicious cycle.

This picture does not do them justice.

Maggie's Spooky Birthday Party

2010-10-05T13:00:00.000-07:00

Maggie had a lot of fun at her 12th birthday party. With Jon's help, I made bat and raven cutouts, decorated the back porch with pumpkins ready to carve, black streamers and covered the globe lights in purple tissue paper. It looked really cool when it got dark—Jon put up two black lights that gave everything a creepy glow. We shut off all the lights and the kids played ghosts in the graveyard. Jon snuck around the side of the house and scared them all pretty good.

Help Stop Bullying

2010-10-01T10:35:00.000-07:00

On September 19, Sean Walsh, a 13-year-old middle school student, attempted to commit suicide. He spent nine days on life support before passing away. Sean was the victim of peer bullying. He was bullied at school and even after while home schooled for being gay. Sean lived in my hometown, and went to the same junior high I attended. Several media personalities have spoken out about Sean's death, the death of a Rutgers University student who committed suicide after being cyberbullied and several others. I would like to add my voice to the mix.

I have a 14-year-old son and 12 and 10-year-old daughters. I can't imagine what it would be like to lose them. I worry everyday my children are getting pushed around at school or made fun or because of one thing or another. How do we let it get so out of hand? How do we let it happen at all? I am including links to a story about Sean and a blog post concerning the Rutgers student. I hope you will read them and see how senseless these deaths were. I applaud Ellen DeGeneres for addressing this issue on her show and anyone else in the media spotlight who is bringing more attention to this problem. Watch for signs of bullying with your kids, at their schools and in your neighborhood. Your child could be the victim or they could be the perpetrator. Whatever the case, it needs to be addressed and stopped. I know the school hold anti-bullying workshops and school-wide assemblies, but it is not enough to address it once a year — we must be vigilant and stop it before it begins.

Bullied Teen Dies After Attempted Suicide
Rutger's Suicide

School Pictures

2010-09-29T20:34:00.000-07:00

The girls had their school pictures taken last week. The photographers did a great job. Both Maggie and Moira look better in their photos than they did when they left the house. Maggie just needed her hair smoothed for the photo, but Moira, well, I will let you see the before and after pics. Here are the results:


Before


After


After

WAIT FOR IT


Similar, but not representational

WAIT FOR IT

Ta-da!

Halloween Was Made For Me

2010-09-29T20:26:00.000-07:00

I started making new Halloween decorations at the beginning of September after I bought Martha Stewart's Halloween special edition magazine. I think her time in prison was beneficial to her when creating some of the great ideas in the magazine. Today I finished assembling my front windows. Jon did the cutouts—free drawn from pictures from the magazine and online. The green is from tissue paper, and we are lighting it from inside with a lamp.

I also put shadow rat cutouts all over the house. They're kind of cool. They would have been better on a set of stairs.

I've already started on some ravens on perches and some wooden bats to hang from the rafters on my back porch. Those pictures will come soon. Maggie is having a Halloween-themed birthday party on Friday so I did have a good reason to start early.

Top 10 Reasons I Need A New Job

2010-09-27T17:23:00.000-07:00

10. I would rather be doing laundry and cleaning the underside of my stove hood than doing my work.

9.   Payroll needs to start taking Metamucil so I get paid more regularly.

8.   I have to set an alarm on my phone to remind me to blink.

7. I've begun to keep TWO of my favorite pencils sharpened at all times.

6. I call people I haven't spoken to in years, and don't really like, to avoid doing my work.

5. I'm almost positive the smell I keep getting a whiff of is part of my brain decaying.

4.   I talked to the marketing guy from AT&T for 45 minutes the other day and now I think my cell phone carrier might drop me.

3.   There is dust on my bookshelf. (The one that actually holds books I want to read.)

2. The people at the bookstore call me the "Crazy Pencil Lady" and it's not bothering me anymore.

And the No. 1 reason I need a new job:

1. I keep getting pop-ups on my computer for gay porn because I fact checked an article on Hillcrest in San Diego. (Don't type Black Beach into Google—you may regret it. Or not.)

Inspiration Through a Picture Window

2010-09-26T14:13:00.000-07:00

I have been working on my short story for the Notes From Underground anthology. I have until early December to get it finished. Usually I would wait until late November to work on it, but I decided to try my hand at not procrastinating. Editing can be a very stressful process. You reread your work so much the words become second nature. You either begin to see where you need to make changes, or you get so tired of looking at it you convince yourself it is perfect as it is — even if it isn't.

I have found a bit of inspiration for my work lately. Fall has come to North Idaho and, while I usually work in my office, I have begun to sit in my front room near the two large picture windows. From here I have a perfect view of the neighborhood. I watch people walk by with their dogs, their children and their music. I watch the wind rustle through the trees whose leaves are beginning to turn amazing shades of red and orange. I won't lie, sometimes this view is distracting. But, more often than not, I can visualize my main character and understand how she sees the world. This allows me to write her better, give her more personality and begin to find a way for her to find peace.

I think I'll forgo working at my desk more often.

Aches and Pains

2010-09-26T13:50:00.000-07:00

I feel like an old woman today. Jon and I are both sick with some mystery illness. My joints are creaking, my whole body feels like it is arthritic and I am even having a hard time typing this post. I think I am going to be a lot nicer to older people from now on- not that I wasn't nice before, but now I won't just help them with their groceries at the store, but I may even go home with them and cook them a meal.

Jon's New Etsy Shop

2010-09-23T15:55:00.000-07:00

Jon just opened an Etsy shop to sell some of his paintings and other artwork. Right now there are three paintings up for sale. Check them out:

Trippin' Art

Picnicing with the Devil

2010-09-20T11:28:00.000-07:00

I admit I don't follow politics as much as I should, but after seeing an AP report on Christine O'Donnell and her former participation in witchcraft, my ears perked up. Apparently, Bill Maher has dug up a number of interview clips (without complete context and background) where O'Donnell admitted to having been involved with a witch. She says on her first date with a witch she had a picnic on a satanic alter. (I thought witches were only women and the men were warlocks, but my knowledge of that world is limited.)

First, let me just say, who hasn't dabbled in witchcraft? I mean, she is a right-wing Republican and a Tea Party favorite so she has to have great tolerance for opinions that differ from hers, right? If some of these Tea Party followers hadn't been dabbling in witchcraft than how do you explain the fascination and blind support of the movement?

Secondly, I'm sure there are number of people who have eaten a meal on top of a satanic alter. Some of them may have been the meal but others, like O'Donnell, were probably unaware of its significance within the occult. It's not unusual for hunters to come across a stained checkered tablecloth and a picnic basket on a hand-built platform in the middle of the woods. At first it seemed weird, but now they are all used to it so it doesn't raise any red flags.

All I'm saying is, leave poor O'Donnell alone. She has enough trouble trying to explain away her hairdo in the above video clip.

Day One: Minor Setback

2010-09-16T21:53:00.000-07:00

Today is the end of Day One—No Sugar Challenge. I did better than I thought I would. I resisted the lemon cheesecake bars in the fridge and was actually very proud of myself until I remembered we were taking the girls to the county fair. I did have a quarter of an elephant ear with sugar and cinnamon on it. Doesn't sound too bad, right? Wrong! Have you ever seen an elephant ear at a county fair? But, tomorrow is another day, and I will not be going to the fair.


This is not the actual elephant ear I helped eat, but it is pretty darn close. Looks good, huh?

I think you could fry just about anything and brush it with butter and drag it through cinnamon and sugar and it would be delicious. Not delicious enough for me to ruin my challenge again. I will not be defeated.

Seperation of Work and Marriage

2010-09-15T22:07:00.000-07:00

Jon and I were talking today about the idea of "work wives" and "work husbands". You know what I'm talking about. They are the person at work who you interact with as you might your spouse — taking or giving orders, writing a "honey do" list, finding yourself unreasonably irritated by their habits. During this conversation I remembered a commercial I had seen for an upcoming reality TV show.

This show, on the same channel as "Kate Plus 8 Minus 1 Because He Cheated," is called "Sister Wives." I told Jon about it and then this led to him telling me he had acquired a "work wife" without asking for one. (Kind of like Jeff on "Chuck" when he says that all of his relationships with women have been without their knowledge, but the other way around.)

I decided that Jon's "work wife" and I could never be sister wives. She might just drive me crazy. To the point of inflicting harm on myself. This, in turn, would cause a problem for Jon. The police would have to come investigate and during the investigation would find out Jon was a polygamist and he would get arrested and his other wife and their 20 children would be all alone with no one to care for them until someone named Josiah from the colony across the street came and took them in. Jon would get out of jail to find his remaining wife and kids gone and he would have to find more wives, and it would just be a mess.

Needless to say, Jon won't be taking another wife anytime soon, especially if it's his "work wife."

P.S. Did you know that some polygamist wives have a blog that tells the "happy" side of polygamy?

I'm Gonna Be A B**** For Awhile

2010-09-15T11:35:00.000-07:00

Just to clarify — I will be handing out candy on Halloween, not toothbrushes.

Tomorrow I am going to start phasing out sugar. I know this comes as a shock to most of you and it is sorrowful for some, but it needs to be done. I am apprehensive, as I know it will provide days of withdrawal headaches and weeks of crabby behavior.

Starting tomorrow I will cut out any sugary foods — candy, cookie, cake, brownies, ice cream — the five food groups. After my body has gotten a hang of that (about two weeks) I will begin to cut out other foods like white breads, pastas and some sauces. I'm not a zero-carbohydrate person so I will continue to eat some carbohydrates in smaller quantities and made from whole-wheat. I've done it before; I can do it again. Right? We shall see.

So, today I am going to finish off my last bag of peanut M&Ms, having vanilla ice cream for dessert (with the last of the whipped cream) and drinking my last Diet Dr. Pepper (no I won't — they are sugar-free).

Tomorrow: Day 1 of scary, crazy-eyed Erin.

How many stages to grief are there?

You're a Winner???

2010-09-14T15:53:00.000-07:00

I hate waiting. I don't mean waiting for the bus to come or waiting in line at the grocery store (after all, at least I have some smutty reading material or can gawk at the weird people who take public transportation). No, I mean waiting to get feedback for your work. It is hard enough to put yourself out there and allow others to critique your writing, but it is equally as hard, if not worse, waiting for their response.

I recently submitted some of my fiction for a writing contest. I think I have a pretty good shot — as good as any other 30-something, aspiring novelist. I mean, really, how many could there be? Anyway, the contest winners are going to be announced on Friday and I am having a hard time concentrating on anything else. Now would be a good time for me to win something. I'm depressed about not finding a new job, work has become repetitive and I miss my family. At this point in time, I would be happy to win just about anything. I would even settle for a World's Best Golfer award (in the form of a coffee mug) and I don't golf. Do you have one, anyone?

Is that a mime on the telephone? or Do these stripes make my butt look fat?

2010-09-09T22:59:00.000-07:00

I am not overly concerned with fashion. Ask anyone and they will tell you I am just as comfortable in my old college sweatpants as I am in a nice trouser. I have been known to drive my kids to school in my pajamas with a big oversize sweater to cover the fact that my too-large breasts are not held tightly to my chest with a bra. Okay, maybe that was a little too much information.

Anyway, I am going somewhere with this, I swear. Yesterday, Jon and I were at the food co-op trying to find some hippie, all-natural, weed-in-a-capsule to help my son's allergies. (Really, how does that work? I give my son some freeze-dried nettles and it makes him not sneeze?) I digress. As we were approaching the door we spied what looked like a mime on his cell phone. After close inspection, I would say he was NOT a mime. What tipped me off, you ask?

1. He's TALKING on a cell phone.

2. He is not wearing a beret, but a fedora-type hat.

3. The stripes on his shirt don't match up with the stripes on his pants. We all know that a mime, being from France and always conscious of his wardrobe choices, would not have put those on together unless he was experiencing an ocular migraine or a small blood clot that impaired his ability to tell whether something was horizontal or vertical.

4. He clearly was not respecting the boundaries of the glass wall in front of him as he paced.

5. It's obvious those shoes were meant for a clown, not a mime.

6. He was in Moscow, Idaho. At a food co-op that smells strongly of patchouli incense and pesto sauce. (Isn't that enough?)

Now I Know What I've Been Doing Wrong

2010-08-31T14:50:00.000-07:00

This whole "looking for a new job" thing doesn't seem to be working out for me, and I finally know why. According to the feminine hygiene company that is "Summer's Eve," I am going about it all wrong — I have not yet sought career advice from them. Check out this Salon.com story about the new advertorial.
Apparently, I should be carrying Summer's Eve Feminine Cleansing Cloths in my bag to every interview. It could even land me a raise after they hire me. I wonder if they have some sort of certification I can acquire to attach to my resume as well. I'll do some research and let all you job seekers know as soon as I find out.

My Garden's Bounty

2010-08-13T18:53:00.000-07:00

This spring we planted a salsa garden—jalapenos, cilantro, Roma tomatoes, tomatillos, other tomatoes, etc. We also have a bunch of raspberry bushes. Today, I picked my first ripe tomato. It is beautiful.

Here is a picture of a fairly good-sized raspberry for comparison.

Aren't we lucky?

Like Lobster, But Bite Sized

2010-08-13T18:40:00.000-07:00

Who Is This Guy?

2010-08-13T18:23:00.000-07:00

I may be paparazzi. While on a recent trip to the Wildlife Safari in Winston, Oregon, I spied this guy.

I swear he is someone famous. A TV or movie actor. Maybe he has been in some commercials — whatever. The point is, I may or may not have seen someone famous in the smallest podunk town in Oregon. Winston has a road called Turkey Crick (not Creek) and a place called Coon's Hollow. How much more podunk does it get? If that isn't enough for you, they also have a bar called F&N Lucky. Great, right?

So, we also saw some cool animals at the safari. We have been before, but it was more fun this year, on account of the famous person and all.

Here are some of my photos. (Not all of them are of animals butts.)

Buffalo

Bear

Camel

Baby zebra

Native squirrel

Elephant Ears, Giant Curly Fries and Sheep dressed as the March Hare

2010-08-06T21:28:00.000-07:00

The Douglas County Fair was very entertaining. We got the typical fair freebies — pencils, water bottles, orange peelers etc... then we ate elephant ears with honey and butter and a whole basket of fried curly fries. Yum! Before heading over to the Umpqua Dairy ice cream truck we took a stroll through the exhibit halls and looked at the farm animals. We were lucky enough to happen upon a costume contest for sheep and goats. It was the best part of the fair.

Day old piglets. They are so clean and shiny.

They say it's an orchid, but it's pretty weird.

This made my day — the Cheshire Cat, March Hare and the Mad Hatter. When the judges asked the Cat what he was he said, "The Mad Hatter cat" like they were stupid. They Mad Hatter was asked by the judges if it was hard to get his sheep into the costume. His response: "I don't know, I wasn't there when they did it." Seriously people, why would HE put his sheep in a costume?

Mo's Birthday

2010-08-02T21:13:00.000-07:00

My youngest turned 10 today. I can't believe I'm (I mean she) is that old. She had a blast at her party. We had peg-leg (three-legged) races, egg relays, water balloon fights and, as requested by my daughter, dunking (bobbing). We didn't have any apples to bob for so they settled for grapes. It's funny how easily amused they are at this age. We made a red velvet cake with Nutella filling and cupcakes. The cake was delicious. It wasn't the prettiest thing ever, but it was edible. The girls were grossed out when I told them it might turn their poo red. It's like an after party surprise.

Pirate cupcakes

Treat bags in a pirate's chest

Mo and the her mateys in their bejeweled eye patches

Bunting made from brown paper bags (I forgot to take down the fly tape before I took the pictures. It did come down before the guests arrived.)

Egg the Plank (Mo looks like she is plotting in the background)

Pirate flag adorning the wall above the food

Jon and Maggie all dressed up in their pirate gear. Apparently, modern day pirates like the guitar (hence Maggie's T-shirt)

The Joys of North Idaho

2010-08-01T14:19:00.000-07:00

I am a born Californian, and I am proud of it. This makes it hard to live in North Idaho (or anywhere in the state, for that matter). Idahoans don't look too kindly at us Californians — insisting we have stolen their jobs, ruined their economy and otherwise taken over their great state. You hear things like this all the time — mostly from people who have never had a job, don't know what the word economy actually means or have never been outside their own state. Okay, maybe that is a little harsh, but I get a little defensive about my home state, even if dear Arnold is running it into the ground.

I will always be a Californian, but I think, after about 10 years in the state, I am entitled to also being an Idahoan. After all, I did marry someone who has spent his whole life here. So, shouldn't it be like U.S. citizenship? Maybe I need to get a green card of sorts.

This brings me to the actual topic of today's blog post — the Idaho Passport Policy. There isn't one, but there should be. I often feel I need a passport to come to the northern part of the state. The culture here is so different from anywhere I have ever lived.

Exhibit 1:

Isn't this the greatest thing you have ever seen? No need to go into a Walmart, wait 20 minutes at the gun counter to get the attention of the man with the mullet (who has ignored you because you're a woman and a woman doesn't belong in the gun section, but at home baking cookies for her hunter-gatherer) to get you some worms out of the little cooler next to the ammunition. Now, with just a little cash you can purchase your bait from a soda and snack machine outside the gas station. This is by far the best invention ever.

I have decided to continue to document other evidence of why people need a passport to visit this amazing and beautiful state. Further exhibits of this evidence will follow in the days to come.

The Other Moscow

2010-08-01T14:04:00.000-07:00

VS.

I think I need to move. Living in a town that shares its name with a Russian town, is not always a good idea. Here in North Idaho we pronounce it (Mahw-sco), not (Moss-cow). People don't get it. It's like those people who say (Los Angle-ease) for Los Angeles. Okay, I don't really know anyone who says that, but I wanted to compare it to a bigger, hipper, more city-like city.

I am almost always asked to spell it when I must give my address over the phone. After saying M-O-S-C-O-W so many times, I have finally just begun telling people to just put Mo. That's what we call our daughter, whose name Moira is never pronounced right. So, why can't it be good enough for my city?

Until we move I will be accepting mail in Mo, Idaho. With my luck, there is already a city in this fine state that uses that name legally. I mean we do have Athol (lovingly referred to as the A** hole of Idaho- with a lisp), Atomic City, Dubois (not pronounced at all like they would in France), Melba (like the toast), Onaway ('nuff said) and Paris.

Jane Austen's Fight Club

2010-07-29T14:26:00.000-07:00

One never mentions Fight Club
No corsets
No hatpins...

Thank you Jodie N. for sharing this on Facebook. I have watched it at least three times. I want someone to make this movie. Why not? They did it with zombies so why can't they do it with Fight Club?

Jane Austen's Fight Club

It's All Standard, Folks

2010-07-28T17:38:00.000-07:00

A week before a recent 5K Run/Walk (bet you can't guess which one I was signing up for) I received what was titled, "Athlete's Standard Release Form". After reading it several times I decided to share it with all of you so you could get the same joy from it I have received. I have just offered up the most amusing part (between the arrows) so you wouldn't have to wade through the other legal junk.

I think they included the "fixed or moving objects" part just for me.

The Power of a Misplaced, Silent "e"

2010-07-28T17:24:00.000-07:00

This was passed on to me by a teacher friend of mine from Portland. I laugh every time I look at it. This story was by a 3rd grade boy.