(Not) Home For The Holidays

Since last Wednesday, I have been home primarily only to sleep. Wednesday night, we had the family pictures taken and I didn't get home until about 10 pm. Having gone to get the pictures done directly from work. I went straight to bed, read for a half hour, and crashed. I was home for most of the morning on Thursday, but then my brother and parents came about 5 to help with some home chores and then we headed over for our family Christmas eve celebration. It was late again when I got home, so again I just went to bed. The next day, Christmas, we gathered again to open presents and eat good food, both brunch and dinner. We finished dinner about 9, so I got home a *little* earlier at about 9:30. After hitting a pothole on the drive home and limping the last mile home with a flat tire. So Saturday, after a night with little sleep, I called the tire place to make sure they could take care of my care, called AAA to come put the spare on so I could drive my car over there, and then headed over to the tire place - all before 11 am. I took a cab home and then ate lunch. I was home for a couple of hours while the tire place figured out what was wrong with my car - wheel or tire - and then picked up the car again and hit the gym. Got home in time for dinner and was actually home for the evening for the first time in several days. Sunday I actually had most of the day at home. Other than running several errands that I hadn't had a chance to do on Saturday. Then Monday, I went straight from work to birthday dinner for my brother-in-law. Again, I didn't get home until 9:30 or so.

For 6 days, I haven't been home much. (Not) home for the holidays.

Best Things About Christmas

It's easy to talk about the obvious things. Like presents. I must admit that I turn into a 5-year-old about my birthday and Christmas. I love getting presents. I also love to give presents, so I guess that offsets the 5-year-old mentality a little bit. I particularly enjoy when I come up with a clever present. For example, this year, my brother-in-law requested a few items, including a free trip to either Alaska or New Zealand to go fly fishing. It was meant as a joke. So what I did was get him travel books for such a trip - on fly fishing in both places. That was fun!

One of the other things about Christmas that harkens back to childhood is the good homemade sweets. My mother used to make about 15 kinds of cookies. We're down to about 8 kinds, but still all good and somehow there are always more than enough cookies for everyone to have their fill - and then some. One of our other family traditions is a great coffee cake for Christmas breakfast. Doughy dough, pecans, cinnamon, butter - good stuff. Christmas is the only time of the year we have that coffee cake. We've talked about making it other times of the year, but somehow that would dilute the excitement of having it on Christmas morning with the presents.

Beyond being a small child, I love that people tend to be just a little nicer. Perhaps it's shades of our childhoods when we might have worried about whether we were going to end up on Santa's Naughty or Nice list. But I think it's more that Christmas reminds us that we are supposed to be nice to our fellow man. That's part of the point of religion in general. But somehow, usually, around the holidays, people tend to be just a little more patient, a little more kind, a little more likely to go out of their way to do something nice for others.

But the best thing, for me, about the Christmas is a chance to spend time with the whole family. My family - all 12 of us - see each other in smaller groups throughout the year. Every once in a while, we do get the whole crew together at times other than Christmas. But really, the holidays are the time that we will most likely get the whole family together - parents, their kids, the in-laws, and Chris' kids and their significant others. This year, we had a few such days as we took a family portrait on the 23rd and then celebrated Christmas eve with Chris' kids. Two days in a row with some of my favorite people. Can't ask for much more than that. Ultimately, the best thing about Christmas.

The Empress

She was an empress. Queen of all she surveyed. And if you didn't believe that, all you had to do was ask.

Hers was not an easy life. When she was young, she lived with another small creature who loved nothing more than to pull on her tail. Or run her over with his rolling chair. In those days, she also had to share her home with - of all things - another cat! The indignities! Really, it was not to be borne.

Is it any wonder that she became a bit cold? That she reserved most of her affection for the one who protected her from that other cat and the active child? She didn't like being required to share. She was the empress. How dare anyone tell her to be nicer? She was ruler here. She could do whatever she chose, could she not?

Then more indignities. She had to move - bad enough - but she also had to share the bed with a man! Really? The horror. Well, an empress can stand almost anything for a little while. It's only for a little while, right, she thought. But, alas, her mistress had gotten married. And worse yet, her mistress' husband was allergic to cats. Can you imagine? Allergic to an empress? Was he a peasant? At least she still ruled the living room, perched on the couch for hours and hours, watching and ruling over her environs.

A brief sojourn to Paris. A view from the balcony. An opportunity to look down on others. And her mistress to herself again. Life was good.

Then back to the United States. Seattle may be rainy, but here was a large backyard to explore again (Paris had no such pleasures). Grass beneath her feet. Territory to claim.

But what was this? What kind of creature invaded? At least she still outweighed him, that piddling little dog. Appropriate that her mistress named him Taiwan. She was, after all, the formidable China. He was a mere annoyance. A rival for her mistress' affections, perhaps, but she had been there longer. She ruled the couch. He understood that. She knew how to teach him not to eat her food. A well-timed scratch or two would put him in his place.

Another interloper? Bigger than she was? Oh, but she was so tired. She slept more than she was awake. Was another creature really so bad? It could be ignored. She wouldn't deign to even really acknowledge this new invader. She had her couch. She knew she was still loved. Still empress. Forever empress.

Rest in peace, China.

Running In 18" Of Snow

Saturday, we got 18" of snow. Saturday, no one went anywhere or did anything - well, except a couple of my crazy friends who wanted to see how their cars would do in the deep snow. But most of us - those of us who are sane - stayed in and watched the snow fall, amazed as it continued to fall and fall. As much as 2" an hour at times. Needless to say, I didn't get a whole lot of exercise. Most Saturdays, I hit the gym for an hour or so, or I go for a 30-40 minute run. Since neither of those was an option, I bounced on my exercise ball for a while and did some ab work. It was something, but not really enough.

Sunday was the day for shoveling. It took me two hours to get my car out from under all the snow. I had already shoveled the sidewalk a couple of times, so it wasn't hard to get that cleared. The sun came out. The day was pretty nice. There was a nice sense of camaraderie in the neighborhood as all the neighbors were outside at the same time clearing off cars and moving many, many feet of snow. A couple of hours of shoveling and some time on my exercise ball was some exercise. But Sunday's exercise is usually equal to Saturday's. Shoveling was pretty good cardio, but just didn't feel like it was as much exercise as I usually get on a weekend day.

Today, the roads were still pretty covered. The Federal Government was closed. I could get out of my neighborhood and had planned to go into the office. But one of my colleagues said the roads there hadn't yet been plowed. So we all stayed in our respective homes and worked virtually. At the end of the day, I was tired of sitting around. I needed to get out. I needed real exercise.

So I strapped on my running shoes, a warm coverup, and mittens, and ventured out for a run.

There was a foot-wide path on the sidewalks. It was mostly cleared. But it only went down the main drag, not down any of the side streets or around the lake. So I ran up and down the one road. Back and forth. Up and down. Resembling nothing so much as a pendulum. For 30 minutes.

It felt good.

#100

This is my 100th blog entry. Amazing. I haven't been as faithful as I was when I first started. I haven't written every day, and some days, my post is pretty pitiful. But I have kept it up. And that's saying something.

We're supposed to be adding a blog to my company's website. I got a note about it about a month, suggesting that we do so. With only a handful of people, several projects that require everyone's attention, not to mention a proposal or two, I wondered how that was going to happen. Blogs are really only a good thing if they are maintained. A blog that only gets new entries every once in a blue moon is more embarrassing than not having a blog at all. In theory, the blogging responsibilities will be shared among at least three people, possibly four. So you would think it would get done and updated. But in reality, each one of those people is moving at 100 mph and not having much luck keeping up with all they have to do. Which is good for our business - since most of that is paying work - but not good for our chances of having a blog that stays up to date.

When I started this blog, my goals were several. To stretch my writing skills again. To share my thoughts. To convince myself that I could/would write every day. Well, I failed on that last one, but succeeded with the other two. For the most part, I feel like my posts have been pretty well written. Some of them have been worthy, even, of being reposted on Facebook. Where I post them as Notes. One of them even got re-posted by one of my Facebook friends. A very nice compliment.

I don't have any "followers". Well, I have one, but it's me so it doesn't count. But I know there are a few people who do read my blog because I have gotten notes from them. My sister, for example, posted a comment on one of my posts. And I know she's read at least one or two other posts. I have a few friends who seem to read my blog pretty often. So that's nice. And when I posted about giving to charities this time of the year, and mentioned the animal rescue that I volunteer with, I got a note from them thanking me for the shout-out. So although technically I have no followers, I do have people who read my blog. Which is a nice thing.

When I first started blogging, I also used to use the "labels" box to index my blog. I figured it would help with my blog being "found" by the search engines. And maybe then I would get a few followers. But lately, I haven't bothered with that. Search engines, after all, use the words as much as any indexing to find items of interest. And really, I'm not all that concerned about my blog being found. I'm not trying to make money off of it or anything. Mostly it's an exercise for me. And a way to get my thoughts into the world. Whether or not anyone reads them or cares.

So here's to another 100 in 2010. At least. Presumably I'll post a few more times between now and the end of 2009, though I won't be home many evenings between now and then. Still there are some major events to come in the next 11 days. Family picture. Christmas eve. Christmas. Chris' birthday. New Years Eve. Bound to be something to say in all of that.

Snow!

Tonight and tomorrow, we are supposed to get up to 20" of snow. While some parts of the country may cope with that, here in the DC metro area that amount of snow is likely to bring everything to a halt.

If you look at the date, you'll also notice that it's a week before Christmas. Which means that this weekend is a MAJOR shopping weekend. The stores are expecting the shoppers. The shoppers were expecting to be able to get presents this weekend. Now it's highly likely that neither of those expectations are going to be fulfilled.

The only retailers making more money than they know what to do with are the grocery stores. I'm willing to bet that you would be hard-pressed to find milk, toilet paper, bread, and water in most stores right now.

Personally, I am planning to avoid both kinds of stores. I am finished with my Christmas shopping. I have enough food to get through a few days without restocking. I'm good.

Let it snow!

It's Time For Annual Giving

As you hit the stores and buy your presents, don't forget to spend some of your time and money helping others.

Those who are trying to feed the hungry, clothe the homeless, teach the undereducated. So Others Might Eat. Share Our Strength. One Laptop At A Time.

What about those working to change the world one patient at a time? Doctors without Borders. Whitman-Walker Clinic. St. Jude's Childrens Hospital.

What about those who take care of those who don't have voices to tell us when they need help? The animal rescue organizations, like my friends at Lost Dog and Cat Rescue Foundation.

And finally don't forget those who are stewards of the earth. The Nature Conservancy. World Wildlife Fund. The Sierra Club. Greenpeace.

So remember all these organizations - or your charity of choice - in the midst of all the other holiday craziness. Give back. Give of yourself. Just give. It's time.

Caught Between The 19th and 21st Centuries

About a week ago my home phone went out. I came home from work, and it just wasn't working. I called and reported the outage, they had me test a few things, then they tested the line, and they determined that it was an external problem and scheduled a service call. For 10 days later!

But that's not the point. The point is for 5 days (they fixed it earlier than scheduled), I had no home telephone. I called a few people to let them know that (including most importantly my parents). But if you didn't know, you wouldn't know. There was no indication from the outside that the number wouldn't work and I wouldn't know if anyone left a message. It was quite odd.

I know lots of people who don't have a home telephone anymore. Instead they rely on mobile phones. My brother, for example, doesn't have a home phone. In part because he's rarely home; he runs a bar and is there more than anywhere else. My niece and her husband don't have a home telephone; neither do my cousin and his wife who are about the same age. In that case, I think it's a generational thing. I don't actually know the statistics, but I'd be willing to bet that the percentage of home phones drops substantially among those under age 30. Even age 35.

But for me, I felt disconnected. What you need to know is that I have TWO cell phones. I have one for work and one for home. So it's not like I couldn't make a telephone call. I could and did make calls during those 5 days from my home. But I still felt as though I was living in the 19th century, before having a home phone was a normal thing.

The other thing that not having a home phone reminded me is that there are other aspects of my life that depend on home phone service. First, I had no access to the Internet. So no blogging (I try not to blog at work - seems inappropriate). No games on Facebook. While I can post and comment on Facebook via my iPhone, you can't play Facebook games on an iPhone. Likewise, I could check my personal email via my iPhone, but responding was a bit more challenging.

Second, my home alarm system is tied to my home phone. I could set the alarm. But if it was triggered (and really, I hope that NEVER happens because I'm not sure what I will do), the automatic dialer that would call the security service and let them know that my alarm was going off wasn't going to work. So I set the alarm and kept a mobile phone by my bed so that I could call if the alarm did go off. It wouldn't solve the problem of having an alarm incident while I was at work. But it would hopefully have solved the problem of an alarm going off while I was sleeping (though, as I said, I NEVER want that to happen).

So there I was, caught between the 19th century - when the phone hadn't yet been invented much less become prevalent in people's homes - and the 21st century - when the younger generations don't use home phones but rely on mobile devices instead.

Perhaps the 19th century wouldn't have been so bad, because we just wouldn't have known better. But I'm glad to be back in the 21st century, complete with home phone service (Internet and alarm system too).

Just When You Think Your Life Sucks...

I was feeling picked on today. I hit a pothole with my left front tire yesterday, and my alignment is all screwed up now. I have a cold. My home phone stopped working on Tuesday. And my job situation is not what I thought it would be. Poor, poor pitiful me.

Perspective. I just got an email from a friend about a mutual friend. This mutual friend's life sucks even worse than mine. In ways that are unimaginable. And makes me feel as though any complaints I might have are silly and ridiculous. That I should count my blessings and move on.

First, his wife was laid off. It's been several months now, and she's had several interviews but no offers. They live in North Carolina and there are not a whole lot of jobs in their area.

Second, he's in danger of being laid off himself. He's been told that he's at risk. I've sent his resume to everyone I know. But the market is tight.

Now, yesterday, his stepson (his wife's child) was in a car accident. The stepson is not expected to survive.

So now my cold, my car, my phone - all pale in comparison.

Just when you think your life sucks....someone else's sucks even more.

I Dream Of Jeannie, Samantha, Sabrina...

Since I was a little girl, I have wanted to have magical powers. When I was a child, I wanted them only because it was cool. I Dream of Jeannie. Bewitched. Sabrina the Teenage Witch. These are the magical women I grew up on. Having been born in Salem, Massachusetts, only exacerbated this desire. What I would do with such magical powers was undefined, however. After all, what does a small girl - one with a happy family life - really need in life?

Today, however, I know exactly what I would wish for.

I wouldn't wish for unlimited wealth. While it would be nice to have enough money not to have to work anymore, most of the time I like working. If I did have enough money that I didn't need to work, I would definitely do a great deal of volunteer work. I can't imagine just sitting around "eating bonbons".

I wouldn't wish for the perfect guy, though that would be tempting. But would it last? Would the wish wear off and he become not perfect? It's something that I would worry about. Because I'm not sure I would believe in that kind of wish. In that kind of luck.

I would wish for the ability to get home from work instantly. To be able to blink and be home. Or wiggle my nose. Or whatever Sabrina did to invoke magic. I live 5 miles from work. Somehow the morning commute is almost never a problem (with the exception of when a water main broke off the side of the Beltway). But the afternoon/evening commute - painful! Tonight, that 5 miles took 45 minutes. Since I run a mile in 11 minutes, I could almost have made it home faster by running. That's ridiculous. It shouldn't take me longer to drive than it would to run. At a normal time of the year, my drive home is usually about 20 minutes. Still a long time for 5 miles. But this time of the year, commuting becomes even more painful. Because my office is in Tysons Corner - across the street from one mall and next to another. So in addition to the usual traffic - all the rest of the people heading home from work, same as me - there are the shoppers. I have tried various routes to avoid getting near the mall. But since I'm not the only one who thinks of these things, others use these alternate routes as well. Hence a 45-minute commute.

So I wish for magic to get me home. Blink. Twitch. Nod.

Tough Day In Cat World

We had 6 cats in cat world today, no kittens. Four of the "cats" were essentially kittens - under 1 year old that is. The other two were 2 years old, so still young.

As sometimes happen in cat world, we had one human volunteer per cat. That's really too many. It makes it hard for the people who might be interested in a cat to "get through". The space we have in the store for the cats is small, so too many people makes things crowded. The other challenge we have is the dog volunteers with their dogs coming by. You don't want to be rude, but when we have cats who don't like dogs - as we did today - it makes those cats not "show" well. But we don't want to impair the volunteer process for them either. It's a tough line to walk - allowing the cats to shine without making it more difficult for any of the shoppers in the store.

It also snowed today. That always makes things more difficult because it reduces the number of people who come to the store in the first place, not to mention coming by to see the cats.

No cats were adopted. Tough day.

Spreading The News

My Uncle Bill - one of the few uncles that I know reasonably well - is in the hospital. So my mother asked us kids to contact him via phone or email or letter to let him know we were thinking about him. I thought about calling, but cell phones and hospitals seems like a tough combination. And my aunt, his wife, said he was having some trouble remembering things from being on strong pain medications. So it seemed like an email was a better alternative.

But what to write? I didn't want to be maudlin and talk too much about the problems he's having. It's been a bad few years. He had to have all his teeth removed. His new dentures haven't ever really fit. He now has a carcinoma that they can't operate on because he's in too much pain from bursitis. So he's in the hospital so they can try to find the right pain meds for him to take and get his pain under control before they operate. Not a good time at all.

I decided to write about my life and times. About organizing the family portrait to be taken at Christmas and the logistics of all that craziness. About work and some upcoming changes that we are expecting to happen soon. And about the animal rescue volunteer work that I do. Just trivial stuff, really. But hopefully something to make him smile. To let him know that I was thinking about him. And to maybe distract him for just a little while.

Godspeed, Uncle. I hope it works.

Revisiting The Past

As I'm readying my house for a move - i.e., getting rid of extraneous stuff to "stage" my house - I am clearing out my closets. In my closets are boxes of stuff from my past. In my quest to simplify my life - in addition to staging my house, I'd also like to just clear out the things I don't need anymore - I'm actually going through the boxes to weed out things that I really don't need.

Today, I went through a box that included all the stuff that my parents had collected from my childhood through college. It included the script from a play I was in in third grade. All my report cards from elementary school onward. Drawings from kindergarten. My PSAT scores. My GRE scores. (Interestingly, not my SAT scores.) And a bunch of letters that I had written to my parents over the years. As well as a few old love letters.

In 1983, as I was thinking about graduating from college and what I would do next, I apparently was thinking that I would go to law school. I sort of remember having that thought. I mean, what else does one do with an English degree if one has a desire to make any kind of money? On the other hand, I think that I would have made a really bad lawyer. I'm much too empathetic. Perhaps if I had been in contract law? Nah.

I also mentioned going to France for a year or two to try to become fluent in French. I had taken French from fourth grade to eleventh grade. That's a lot of years learning a language that I really couldn't speak at all. I could read pretty well. But I never really got to the point of being able to hold a conversation. So I thought it would be good to submerge myself in the country and force myself to learn what years of school had not achieved.

In the end, I did neither of those things. Ultimately, as much as I'd like to think otherwise, I'm way too much of a chicken to go live in another country by myself for a year or two. My sister lived in France for a few years. She left her husband here and moved there for a job she thought would be a great opportunity. I give her a great deal of credit for taking that chance. I'm just not that brave. And I'm a total homebody. I get homesick traveling for a week. I can't imagine what I would do if I had to live in another country for any length of time. It really would not have been a good thing.

As for law school, as I said, I don't think I would have made a good lawyer. When I was young and impressionable, I thought that I would be a public defender. I wanted to help the helpless. But in the real world, public defenders have to defend people who have done really bad things. And I just would not be able to see myself as part of the process. I would have gotten beaten down by dealing with those kind of situations. Again, it really would not have been a good thing.

So revisiting the past has been interesting. If nothing else, it makes me appreciate that the decisions I've made (or had thrust upon me) have ultimately led to good things.

On Giving Thanks

Jehovah's Witnesses don't celebrate Christmas. They believe that a true Christian should celebrate Christ every day, not just once a year. (They also don't celebrate Easter or birthdays. According to Wikipedia, this is because of the pagan association with those holidays and celebrations.)

There are those who feel the same way about Thanksgiving. Perhaps not that one shouldn't celebrate it at all, but that one should not use the holiday as an excuse to not be thankful all year long.

While I understand their point - and perhaps even agree with it to some extent - I think it's important also to have a single day of the year when we really take the time to be thankful. To take the time with family and friends to slow down, to think about what really is important and therefore what we have to be thankful for, and to say out loud "thank you" to those people who are important in our lives.

Felix teaching Patrick about Thanksgiving (thanks Patricia for posting on Facebook): Patrick (age 4): I'm thankful for TV and video games. Felix (age 9): You're not supposed to be thankful for those things on Thanksgiving, just important things. ...I'm thankful for my home, food, and my parents. Patrick: You said you're thankful for parents. Felix: I am! Patrick: You're supposed to be thankful for me!

Out of the mouths of babes...

So here in public are the things I'm thankful for.

I'm thankful for my family. I'm thankful that our parents raised us to be nice people. That we all get along just fine, thank you. That we love each other, support each other, and generally act as families are supposed to to each other - with respect and honor.

I'm thankful that my parents are happy and healthy in their later years. At 82 and 78, still going strong and still in full possession of their faculties. Can't ask for much more than that.

I'm thankful for a job that I enjoy. While, like any job, it has it's bad days, for the most part, I work with smart people doing good things. Again, can't ask for much more than that.

I'm thankful to be reasonably well off. I'm not rich, but I don't have to worry about money too much. I do worry about having enough money for when I do decide to retire (in 15 years or so!). But I have plans for that and seem to be on a good path. In my mid 20s, when I was in grad school, I was living on $400 a month. I've also been unemployed a couple of times since then and had to watch every penny I spent. I remember well those times and am still thankful that I now am in a position to buy what I need and want when I need and want it. And I try to remember - as part of my thankfulness - to spread the wealth to those who are less fortunate or who are trying to help those in need.

I'm thankful for my health. I have good genes and so far they are holding up. There have been a few health scares along the way, but overall, I can't complain. No chronic pain. No congenital problems.

I'm thankful to live in a country where I am free to be what I can be, to think what I want to think, and to say what I want to say.

Thanksgiving may be an American tradition. But I think it's a good one.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Music Hath Charms To Soothe The Savage Breast

William Shakespeare got that right. Music, most of the time, soothes me. I can be in a bad mood, and a good song will come on and I'll be much happier. When a good song comes on the radio, I might not even mind that I haven't gotten out of second gear in two miles. Turning up the car radio, with the top down, and singing at the top of my lungs while driving down the highway (at normal speeds) - one of my definitions of happiness.

But music also has the ability to bring pain. There are certain songs that are associated with painful memories. And hearing those does not soothe.

He was an old friend. We had hooked up a couple of times years before. Then we hadn't seen each other for quite a while. But were both single again and met for drinks. And perhaps a little hooking up again. Friends with benefits, I believe, is the colloquialism.

That's where it should have stayed. Had it stayed there, there wouldn't have been pain. Hurt. Humiliation. No music that pains. Instead, it became...well, it's really unclear what it became.

It was the first season of Rock Star. In this case, to find a new lead singer for the band Inxs. As a music fan and singer, I was fascinated by this idea. Turned out that he was too. Not a singer, but watching the show. Now you have to understand that music is a big thing for me. For me, any guy that I'm going to be with long term has to like music. I didn't know that this guy liked music. Not only did he like music, he liked the same music that I did.

So I invited him to a concert with me. In the meantime, until the day of the concert, he started coming over after work to watch Rock Star. And after we watched the show, we would retire upstairs. More friends with benefits.

The day of the concert came...and he didn't show up. I waited as long as I could for him to arrive at my house. He didn't come. I went to the concert anyway. And vowed to be done with him.

He came up with a good excuse. A friend had a big problem. He lived out of town. His cell phone battery died. So he couldn't get a hold of me. I believed him. And forgave him.

The season of Rock Star continued. We continued to watch it - mostly together but occasionally over the phone. We did some Christmas shopping together. We didn't exchange gifts, but then again, I wasn't really expecting him to get me anything. And I hadn't gotten him anything.

Then New Years came and went. I thought...perhaps...maybe...I would finally have a date for New Years Eve. No such luck.

And then it was Valentine's Day. I hate Valentine's. Probably because I have had a date for Valentine's exactly twice in my life. Being a hopeless romantic and being alone on Valentine's is not good. And so I thought...perhaps...maybe. But I didn't hear from him one way or the other. In fact, I hadn't really talked to him much since the New Year. But he'd started a new job and was working a lot of long hours. And things were not going well with the new job. Or so he told me. And I believed him.

Until I got a call on February 13th. From his girlfriend. Asking me why I was calling her boyfriend about spending Valentine's together. At 11:30 pm. Waking me up. It was horrible. I had no idea I was "the other woman". He denied it. He denied that she was his girlfriend. His relationship with her was just like his relationship with me. Except that he was moving in with her. He said it was because he was losing money on his business. He told me a whole song and dance. And, this time, I didn't believe him.

But now, unfortunately, the music of Inxs reminds me of him. And this time in my life. And so it doesn't soothe me. It makes me mad. Because I'm embarrassed. Why did I believe him?

But I don't want to feel that way about music. Any music. So I'm going to listen to it for a while. And hopefully it will eventually soothe my savage breast.

Old Dead Guys

Today has been a day for old dead guys. That's what Cindy and I call the classical composers we like. We are not fans of newer "classical" music for the most part. Too atonal. We like the old dead guys. The guys who wrote music that moves smoothly from one note to the next. Music that tells a story. Music that soothes the soul.

This afternoon, Cindy and I went to see the New York Philharmonic. It's part of our subscription to the Washington Performing Arts Society. This year, the New York Philharmonic will be our only opportunity to hear old dead guys in symphonic form, though we have some soloist shows that will likely include a few. The New York Philharmonic played Liszt, Elgar, and Prokofiev - all old dead guys. All eminently easy on the ears. My personal favorite was the Liszt. Les Preludes. Four parts - love, war, the countryside, and destiny. It's considered a symphonic poem, putting thoughts to music. I could hear those elements. Gentle melodies for love; lots of bass, cellos, and timpany for war; flowing violins and violas with flutes intermixed for the countryside; and all instruments playing with drama leading to a definite conclusion for destiny.

I don't always "get" the music. The Elgar, for example, was supposed to be reminiscent of Italy, which is where he was inspired to write the piece (Concert Overture). I didn't get that feeling with the music. Although it was pleasant to listen to, there were no stories in it for me.

The last piece, the Prokofiev, was 10 pieces from the ballet Romeo and Juliet. More pictures, this time of a storyline I know well and could almost envision how the dancing might go. Again, sweet melodies for Romeo and Juliet's love story; louder and stronger playing for Tybalt's death; sad and yet very dramatic music for Romeo's discovery of Juliet dead on the tomb.

Tonight, I watched The Soloist. In it, Steve Lopez. columnist for the LA Times, talks about how Mr. Ayers is transformed by the music he hears. Not just in the sense of enjoying the music, but actually transformed, taken away from the voices in his head. In the movie, they used colored lights and images dancing to portray this sense of being taken elsewhere by the music. Which I think is interesting because there are some, I've heard, who see color when they hear music. It made me wonder if such a person was the one who chose which colors would be used for which parts of the music. Or perhaps it was just what the director envisioned. Doesn't really matter. What matters is that Mr. Ayers is also a fan of the old dead guys. Specifically in his case, Beethoven. When discovered by Mr. Lopez, Mr. Ayers is playing Beethoven in a park in Los Angeles underneath a statue of Beethoven. Coincidentally, and conveniently (so I wonder if it was done for the movie) the Los Angeles Philharmonic was playing all Beethoven that season. At any rate, it made for a nice plot point that Mr. Ayers and Mr. Lopez went to a rehearsal of one of Beethoven's symphonies and, as noted previously, Mr. Ayers was transported by the music.

So I guess the old dead guys speak to more than just Cindy and me.

Rain, Rain, Go Away

We've had a very rainy fall. At least it seems like it's been very rainy to me. Gray, dark, and rainy. Not much hard rain, but at least a drizzle more days than not. I'm not a fan of rain, but I'm really not a fan of what it does to traffic. I really don't understand why rain makes the traffic worse, but it does. Maybe it's because visibility gets worse. Or people feel like they want to drive slower because the ground is slicker. Whatever the reason, traffic is always worse when it rains. So I recite "rain, rain, go away."

The Moments That Make Me Watch TV

Tonight's Grey's Anatomy rerun in Lifetime TV was the first one I had ever watched. And the reason I keep watching. It was the second part of a two-part episode. The one when Meredith has her hands in a guy's chest, holding still a homemade bomb that could blow up at any minute. At the end of the episode, after Meredith is home again, recovering from almost dying, Derek comes to the door to check on her. She says, "You know what I was thinking about today, today when I almost died. I kept trying to remember our last kiss." (or something to that effect) And Derek says, "It was a Thursday morning" and proceeds to describe their last kiss. Like Meredith, I found him irresistible.

It made me think about the best parts of other TV shows.

For Friends, for me, it's the proposal scene. Chandler has been running around New York trying to find Monica, who he's been trying to throw off the scent that he's going to propose. He comes home, thinking that he's lost her. The lights are dim. There are candles everywhere. He walks in, distraught, and Monica says to him "You wanted it to be a surprise."

Ask the average Buffy the Vampire fan which episode that makes them watch, and the likely answer would be when Buffy and Angel finally get together, and he goes bad again. That's certainly a seminal moment for the series. But for me, the one I remember is the episode where demons take everyone's voices. For 22 minutes of the 45 minutes of airtime, there is no spoken conversation. The first time it aired, I had to call my mother and get her to watch because it was so odd. No speaking, no music, nothing. Silence. I hadn't realized how much I didn't actually look at the screen when I was watching an episode. Until I had no choice. For 22 minutes, I had to look at the screen because all conversation was either through gestures or using chalk tablets. If you didn't watch, you didn't know what was going on.

There are others. For all the schlock and garbage on television, there are moments that are brilliant. And those are the moment that make me watch TV.

On Becoming A Mole

I don't mind the cold. I spent several years in New England. I can take it. Though my blood has gotten thinner from many years in the DC metro area, I still don't mind the cold.

No, what I don't like about winter is becoming a mole. Going to work in the dark. Coming home from work in the dark. I do have a window office, so that helps. But somehow it's just painful to get up in the dark, eat breakfast in the dark, and drive to work in the dark. And then getting out of work in the dark, going to the gym in the dark, and driving home in the dark.

For four months a year, I'm a mole. And I don't like it.

A Sucker For Romance?

I'm what they call a hopeless romantic.

Let's think about that term. Romantic is easy. I love love. I love romance. I love to be in love. I love romantic movies. Comedies. Dramas. Whatever. Does the couple end up together? Then I'm all for it. Same goes for books.

When I'm in love, I'm in love. I'm in it to win it as they say. I've really, truly been in love only a few times in my life. I've almost gotten married twice and I've gotten two official marriage proposals, neither of which was from one of the guys I almost married. So, technically that's four times I almost got married.

The first one probably doesn't count. Actually there's no probably about it. I was in high school, and my boyfriend at the time was drunk. We were at a high school dance. I had dragged him to the dance. I actually didn't realize that he was drunk at the time. I just thought he was being ridiculous. He didn't want to be at the dance. He didn't dance. I love to dance. So he sat in the bleachers. And I danced. When I joined him on the bleachers at one point, he asked me to marry him. I'm pretty sure he wasn't serious about it. Especially since he had told me before that while he wanted me and needed me, he didn't love me (it's from a Meatloaf song - look it up). So that's why I don't count that marriage proposal.

The second proposal was from a boyfriend when I was in grad school. He lived in Chicago. I lived in DC. We had started seeing each other the summer before his freshman year of college. After we graduated, we started seeing each other again when I was in graduate school. Over a winter break, while we were making out on the couch in his mother's house, he said something to the effect of "I think we should get married". It was a completely out of context, his proposal. We had barely started seeing each other again. Embarrassingly, I laughed at him. Turned out, he was serious. I did think about it for quite a while. In the end, I decided against marrying him for two reasons: 1) I thought he was too religious for me, and 2) I had been in love with someone else, but it was a hopeless cause and so I was entertaining other offers.

The third time I almost got married didn't include a marriage proposal. The guy I mentioned in the last paragraph - that I had "been in love with" for quite a while - was a guy I had been in love with for many years. It was an impossible love. The hopeless romantic in me probably loved that, but the practical side of me was heartbroken again and again. He and I got together and fell apart at least four or five times over about five years. Finally we had to make a decision. You see, he was/is Jewish. Seriously Jewish, not just Jewish on the High Holidays. So if we were going to be together forever, then I was going to have to become Jewish. Many aspects of being Jewish were appealing to me. But keeping kosher - never again eating pepperoni pizza or a bacon cheeseburger - would have been a challenge. The deal-breaker, though, was not being able to celebrate Christmas with my family. Christmas has been and is the only time of the year that my family consistent gets together. We are not particularly religious (which is why becoming Jewish would have been okay), but we enjoy the time together. To not be able to do that anymore was really not an option. So as much as I loved him and he loved me, in the end it wasn't to be.

The last time I almost got married was just before my 30th birthday. Well, I was on that path; turns out, he wasn't. We had dated in college. We had been dating again for about a year several years later. And just before my birthday, I made the fatal mistake of mentioning that I thought we were headed toward marriage. And he told me that he wanted to marry a woman who would read the Bible with him every day. Which was not me. And that was that. As it turned out, he became a minister (after getting a PhD in physics) and married a woman who wouldn't even go to his ordination (she was that non-religious). Irony.

Since then, I have not dated anyone seriously. I have dated but not for anything real length of time. Certainly not someone that I came close to marrying. Basically, I have concluded that I'm not good at being in a relationship. Maybe it's just a lack of experience. Other than those handful of serious relationships, I haven't had many men in my life. Serious or otherwise.

So maybe I'm not a hopeless romantic. Maybe I'm just hopeless.

Partying Until The Early Hours

I am a night owl, not a morning person. The hardest thing I do every day is get out of bed. My alarm goes off, and I doze and doze until I have no choice but to get up if I want to make it to work on time. Even on the weekends, when I wake up - whether by alarm or not - I turn over at least once or twice before I actually get my butt out of bed.

On the other hand, I often have a hard time making myself go to sleep. Especially if I'm reading a good book. Every night, before I go to sleep, I get into bed and open a book. It's a rare night that I don't read for at least a half hour before I turn out the lights to sleep. If the book is intriguing, it might be even later.

When I was in college, staying up late - talking and/or reading and/or hanging with my boyfriend - was the norm. I almost never had classes before noon. So I could stay up until the early hours of the morning without compromising my GPA. My boyfriend for my junior and senior years of college was also a night owl. I'd be surprised if we went to sleep before midnight very often. It was not uncommon for us to still be awake at 1 or 2 am. I usually got 8 hours of sleep, but it was between 2 am and 10 am.

I explain all this because last night I was up until 1 am. And today, I am exhausted. I slept until 9:30 am this morning. I got more than enough sleep. And 20 or 30 years ago, I would have been just fine after getting to sleep late and getting up late. I would have gotten to class, done my homework, and stayed up late again the next night.

But today, I had to take a nap. Waking up from my nap, I felt as if I could have slept straight through till tomorrow morning. I did get up and finish my errands. I even went to the gym and worked out. But right now, at 7:30 pm, I feel like I could go to sleep again. This is one of the areas in which I don't like getting older.

At 47, I'm afraid that partying until the early hours means the early hours of the night - not the morning.

The $5,000 Burger

Foie gras and truffles. In a burger. Well, I guess you could call it a burger, but not really. Foie gras isn't even beef. And it costs $5,000 in Las Vegas, according to today's Top Chef. What? Are they kidding?

Basically, I am the wrong person to invite if you want to enjoy very expensive food. I would prefer a basic burger. Nice beef, to be sure. I had a Kobe beef burger one time. Although it was quite expensive, it was also very tasty beef. That's probably as high-end as a burger needs to be for me.

The Art Of Negotiation

Books have been written about the art of negotiation. The art of the deal. People like Donald Trump have written these books. The subject matter is business. Or real estate. Or cars. Things that do not have a clear value. The books, and the experts, argue that we need to understand the art of negotiation to get the best value. To do better than the other guy. To win. And most people don't know how to negotiate well. Hence all these books.

I think they've got it all wrong. People know how to negotiate. We all do it every day. Who gets the last cookie? Who has to change the water bottle on the company water cooler?

And that's only the negotiation with other people in our everyday lives.

Honestly, I'm pretty good at negotiation in my everyday life. I think it's because I know who I am. I know my strengths and weaknesses. So I know what I need from other people. And I know what I can do. At least most of the time.

Then there's the negotiation we do with ourselves. If I eat that last cookie, how much farther do I have to run? If I don't go to the gym today, can I make it up tomorrow? Can I make it up by not eating as much tomorrow? If I'm good at negotiating with others in my everyday life, I'm perfect at negotiating with myself. It's not always good for myself, but I do have a perfect record in every negotiation.

When Friends Divorce

Tonight, I'm having dinner with my friend Kevin Nordlie. Tomorrow, I'm going to a show with my friend Cindy Nordlie. Kevin and Cindy used to be married. Technically, they still are. But in reality, not so much.

I used to take credit for Cindy and Kevin. They are both very introverted. We all worked together many years ago. Cindy would laugh at Kevin's jokes. Not that Kevin's jokes weren't funny, but she would laugh more than they were funny. So I began to catch on that perhaps there was some interest here. I had dated Kevin previously. I knew he was a good guy. And I liked Cindy, who was new to our team. Kevin also seemed interested. The three of us used to do things together. One time, when I got tired of the two of them waiting, I just didn't go. The three of us made plans, and I stayed home. I forced them to go on a "date" - sort of. Kevin then invited Cindy to a show, and Cindy came to me to analyze whether that was really a date. "Of course!" I said. And so it was.

Cindy and Kevin dated for many years. Were they ever going to take it to the next level? Cindy got tired of waiting, broke it off, and dated someone else for a little while. And the three of us were still friends, though the two of them did not talk much. Somehow this worked.

After about six months apart, they got back together. I forget the circumstances precisely. This was a long time ago. On a trip to the Rockies, Kevin finally did propose.

I was maid of honor for their wedding. I helped with a lot of the planning, which I guess is par for the course as maid of honor. I was also in charge of dancing at the reception. Cindy and Kevin are introverts. They didn't want to be the center of attention. Even at their own wedding! If it had been up to them, they would have skipped the first dance altogether. Instead, we compromised and the wedding party joined them in the first dance after they had taken a few turns. From then on, my job at the reception was to keep the dancing going. Which was okay, because I love to dance.

Cindy and Kevin were married for more than 10 years. They were together for about 20. And now they are divorcing.

And yet I am still friends with both of them. And I still see both of them about once a month. Ironically, every time I have seen one of them since they went their separate ways, I've seen the other one the next day. So it's almost as it was - with the three of us going out. Just a few hours apart.

Okay, not so much.

Who Can Raise More Crops?

I haven't been blogging for the past few days because I've been sick and just haven't had the wherewithal to blog.

Which is interesting because I have been on Facebook. I've even leveled up in Farmville. Of course, Farmville only requires minimal thinking. The hardest decision you have to make in Farmville is which crop to plant next. Each crop matures in a certain number of hours or days, so you need to think about the next time you'll be able to play the game, and make sure to use crops that will mature about that same time. Because the crops do wither if they aren't harvested within a certain period of time after they mature. Somehow it's fun. I'm not really sure what the appeal is, but it's there nonetheless. There are also animals and trees to harvest. I have lots of types of trees on my farm - apple, grapefruit, orange, cherry, apricot, banana, date, etc. - trees that in the real world would never grow on the same orchard. Oh well. The same is true of the crops. I have corn next to cranberry at the moment. Don't think that happens in the real world. I have lots of animals on my farm too - horses, cows, pigs, chickens, ducks, swans, kittens, etc. I'm a little bitter about the kittens. I keep getting a message about a lost kitten and would I post the message so one of my Farmville friends will adopt the kitten. I want to adopt the kitten! But if I find the kitten - get this message - then I can't adopt the kitten. Which is completely ironic when you think about it....

Anyway, I've surpassed all my friends in my level on Farmville. I'm not THAT competitive, but I do have to admit that I like that I'm the highest of all my friends. Perhaps I'm more competitive than I thought.

It Takes All Breeds

Just like those we seek to help, the animal rescue world is full of different breeds.

The Saint Bernards - The ones who search and rescue for the abandoned and at-risk cats and dogs that need a chance to find a new home and a new life.

The Border Collies - The dog and cat captains who help corral all the other volunteers.

The Golden Retrievers - The volunteers who are eager to please and therefore sometimes have a hard time saying no.

The DSH - The volunteers who just do their jobs, get it done, no fuss, no muss.

The Siamese - The volunteers who whine and complain about being at events.

The Jack Russells - The volunteers who mean well but are high maintenance.

The Airedales - The fosters who take in the strays and give them a home away from a shelter, a chance for some peace and quiet, and one-on-one attention.

The Dobermans - The management of the rescue organization who protect the animals and the volunteers.

And just as in the animal world, it takes all kinds to make a volunteer animal rescue work. includign the mixed breeds who exhibit some of the tendencies of more than one.

We treasure them all. Because they are giving of their time and energy. Because they make the sacrifices and spend the hours. Because they care.

Busy Weekend!

It's being a busy weekend this weekend.

Last night, I went to a colleague's home for a Halloween party. Dressed all in black, per the invitation's request. Wore a mask to ring the door bell. Drank some champagne. Chatted with a bunch of strangers. Ate some snacks. Played with their dogs. Came home. Crashed.

This morning, I got up, cleaned the kittens' room, and answered a few emails. Put some clothes in the washer. Went for a run/walk. Came home. Ate lunch. Took a quick shower. Drove to the Seven Corners PetSmart, where I worked with Lost Dog and Cat Rescue to try to get some cats and kittens adopted. Talked to a bunch of strangers about kittens and cats. Pet a bunch of kittens. Trimmed kitten nails. Only got one adopted. Left the event to drive to Georgetown to get my hair cut. Came home. Ate some dinner. Checked Facebook. Played Farmville. Put the clothes in the dryer. Watched some TV. Read a book. Sleep. Wait for the clocks to be turned back.

Tomorrow, I go to exercise. Eat lunch. Talk to my mother for our weekly chat. Drop by the Reston PetSmart to drop off kitten medicine I didn't use. Buy cat food and litter. Meet with my colleagues for a two-hour meeting. Go grocery shopping. Eat dinner. Play Farmville. Watch some TV. Read a book. Sleep.

Whew!

Giving Blood

I have a fairly rare blood type. I'm A-, which is apparently only found in 9% of the population. As a result, I get calls from the Red Cross asking me to donate.

The first time this happened, it freaked me out. We had had a blood drive at work, and I had donated. I had donated once in college so I knew that I could give blood without any issues. On this occasion, the Red Cross called me about a week after I had donated. They left me a message, and I thought there might be something wrong with my blood. I didn't think I had HIV or AIDS, but it was the late 80s, when the disease was breaking nationwide. And so I must admit that having a message from the Red Cross made me panic just a bit. But as it turned out, what they wanted from me was my blood. Since I have a fairly rare blood type.

Since then, I have been a pretty regular donor. I have given more than 42 times. I try to give as often as I can, but with work schedules being what they are, I can't always get there every 8 weeks.

But the local Red Cross center has had logistical issues the last few times that I have gone. And as a result, I haven't been going.

Here's the problem. Because I have given so much, I have a card that says I'm a preferred donor. Being a preferred donor should mean that I get through the donor process more smoothly. Perhaps not faster. But perhaps even faster. The preferred donors have their own set of cards for order of donation. In theory, we should get through the process more easily. Certainly, I have read all the materials and answered all the questions on many, many occasions.

But the preferred donor line doesn't actually move smoothly. It moves just as poorly as the regular line. The last time I went to donate, I was there for 10 minutes, with no one else giving their histories, and no one came to get mine. I asked the receptionist to find someone to take my history (test my blood, take my BP and pulse, have me answer the history questions, etc.), and she looked at me like I was insane for even asking the question. Another 10 minutes went by, with nurses watching the TV in front of wear I was sitting and appearing to not be doing anything else. Finally, I just gave up. I walked out. And I have not been back since.

Next week, I am scheduled to donate at iNova instead. Hopefully the process will go more smoothly. Hopefully it will be a way for me to start donating blood regularly again. Because I do believe in the process. I do believe in giving blood because not enough people do. But I can't stand inefficiency.

Fingers crossed.

Sore Muscles

I sometimes have wondered if doing Body Flow (Gold's Gym's yoga/pilates/tai chi program) is really serious exercise. Maybe serious isn't the right word. But as someone who usually runs or does an hour of cardio on the various cardio machines, an hour of Body Flow just didn't feel like as much work. Probably because I don't sweat nearly so much in Body Flow as I do when I go for a run or do the cardio machines.

But yesterday I went to Body Flow for the first time in 6 weeks. I have been running more lately, outside when the weather is nice. And I've had very busy weekends. And so I just haven't gotten to a Body Flow class in a while.

When I first started Body Flow, I had already been working out at least three times a week. I was in pretty good shape. I even dropped by the occasional Body Pump class (which uses weights to help with aerobic exercise). So I guess my muscles were already been strong. They weren't as flexible as they needed to be for Body Flow. That I definitely noticed. But I didn't really get sore from taking it.

But today, the day after the Body Flow class, I am sore! My abs are tight. My quads are aching; though some of that is from Saturday's run. My arms also ache.

Guess Body Flow does give me a good workout. And guess I'll be going more regularly!

One Down, Two To Go

Hotel Eberhard has one less guest. I dropped Corky, the boy kitten, off at the Reston PetSmart to live there until he's adopted. Which will hopefully be soon. He's a sweetheart of a kitten. Loves people. Despite having been tortured as a smaller kitten. He and his littermate were dipped in oil up to their necks. His littermate didn't survive.

The hotel still has two guests, however. Sisters Thelma and Louise. Two beautiful little tabbies. Louise has lots of white to go with her tabby. Thelma is all tabby. Louise is more of a player. Thelma is more passive. Louise and Corky used to play-fight a lot. I'll be curious to see what happens since he's no longer around. The girls are supposed to go to a vet in Sterling where hopefully they will be adopted. They should go out there early next week.

Time for room service.

The Social Secretary

I love my family. I love my friends. I enjoy spending time with them. But I am ultimately an introvert. I find it exhausting to be "on" all the time. When I do an adoption event, but the end of it, I am spent. Done. Finished. Ready to collapse.

I find a similar thing happens when I go on vacation with my family or friends. At some point each day, I need some time to myself. Maybe it's just when I'm going to bed. Maybe I'll go for a run. Maybe I'll go for a walk. Or offer to run to the store for something we might need. Just something to spend a little time alone.

Which is why I find it ironic that I am the family social secretary. I'm in charge of reminding people about major events in each other's lives - big birthdays, anniversaries, that kind of thing. When my father turned 70, I was the one who organized the dinner to celebrate. I was the one who got together his present - reminiscences from his siblings about their childhood. (To be fair, my sister did get tapped when my father turned 80, and we went to Hawaii.) When my mother turned the same age, I arranged for the family to send her 70 birthday cards. We all mailed our share (10 each) on the same day so that she ended up getting all 70 cards at approximately the same time. When it was my parents' 50th wedding anniversary, I organized a photography session for us "kids" and the grandchildren to get a formal portrait done - something we had never done before. This year, in honor of my parents' 60th anniversary next year and because it's been 10 years since the last one, my task - assigned by my mother because she knows I'm the family social secretary - is to get an updated family portrait taken. This time, we will include not only the new in-laws but also our parents. I also organize the family Pick-A-Name for Christmas presents every year. The first couple of years, we tried to find a time for everyone to actually pick a name out of a hat. But that has gotten too difficult since everyone is dispersed. So now I just do a random number generation and try to ensure that no one gets the same person two years in a row. Then I send an email to everyone with the list of who has who.

This social secretary thing has also extended to my friends. In the '90s, I took karate. There were 8-10 other women, approximately the same age, who took karate at the same time at the same school. It was great. We supported each other. We sparred with each other. We all got our black belts within a few months of each other. We became friends outside the dojo. In time, we each dropped away from karate for various reasons. Some got married and had children. Some lost interest after getting their first degree black belt. Some got busy with other life events. We kept in touch via email, but we didn't see each other much. Here and there. In pairs. Almost never as a group. Until one of the ladies died. Cherie passed away suddenly a couple of years ago. One of those random health events that she thought was minor and turned out to be fatal. In her honor and memory, the ladies of JSK got together for dinner. It was the first time we had seen each other - all at the same time - in years. And I was the one who suggested it. So I was the one who organized it. And now, I am in charge of keeping it going. Every few months I send an email to all the ladies and offer some possible dates to get together. Eventually some of us find some common time and have dinner. It's usually not everyone. But it keeps the relationships going.

Today I was social secretary for the ex-Northrop Grumman Health folks. Lunch for 7. One of us is still actually at Northrop Grumman, though he's no longer in the Health area. Three of us still work together though at my current company, Cognosante. The other three are at various other health IT companies in the area. A couple of us talked about getting together for drinks. A couple of us talked about getting together for lunch. A couple of us talked about getting together for dinner. And no one actually proposed date, time, and place. So I did. So I think now I'm going to be the social secretary for this crowd too?

I love my family. I love my friends. But I'm an introvert. And also - somehow - the social secretary.

Sleep - That Elusive Elixir Of Life

I know several people who operate on less than 7 hours of sleep. I am just not one of them.

My boss can fly back from the West Coast on a red eye, work in the office all day, go to an event in the evening, and be fine for all of it. Not me. I don't sleep on planes, so a red eye for me means maybe a nap of an hour or so somewhere along the line. But not real sleep. I've even tried taking Tylenol PM, which puts me to sleep at home most of the time. On a plane, not so much. But even if she does sleep on the plane, even if she's in business class, that's still less than 7 hours of sleep because the flight just isn't that long. And you can't just get on the plane and go to sleep. Nor can you sleep through landing. So best case, it's 5-1/2 hours of sleep. And I would be miserable.

Last night, the smoke alarm in my house decided that its batteries were dead. At midnight. So because I had already set my house alarm for the night, it started to beep at me. Scaring the bejesus out of me in the process. I wasn't asleep, but I was close. I had just turned out the light a few minutes earlier, having stayed up to watch the end of Top Chef and then read for a while before turning in. The alarm beeped. The cats jumped. Adrenaline kicked in.

Beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, beep. Six beeps. That's the noise the alarm makes when it's unhappy. It's the same thing that happens if the power goes out.

If I were a good sleeper, perhaps I would sleep through those 6 beeps. Perhaps it wouldn't bother me that the alarm was unhappy. I would just acknowledge that there was an issue, roll over, and go back to sleep.

But that's not the way I operate. First, the beeping and the cats jumping made my adrenaline jump. Second, because I live alone, I am cautious about going downstairs late at night to investigate weird happenings. Was the alarm beeping because it was unhappy? Or was it because someone had jimmied a door or window and so hadn't quite triggered the alarm, but close? Did the beeping mean that the alarm wasn't working, i.e., wasn't protecting me? These are the thoughts that ran through my mind after I popped up in bed with the adrenaline running through my veins. Third, I am just not a good sleeper. Remember, I'm the person who can hear the cats run into the room on my carpeted floor when I'm asleep. Beeping all night. Not really going to work for me.

So I trundled downstairs and opened the face of the alarm box to try to decipher what was happening. Upon closing the face and hitting the System Status button, I heard the alarm voice say "Sensor 4 Smoke Failure". Does that mean there's smoke in my laundry room? Since I wasn't doing laundry, I couldn't imagine that would be true. However, that's the also the one ground floor window that isn't alarmed. I figure it would be a real challenge for anyone to get to that window since there's a huge rhododendron in the way - assuming anyone even saw the window behind the rhodie. But still, I get nervous about that room.

What to do? Go downstairs? After midnight. Somehow that always freaks me out, even though a half hour ago I was down there watching TV. It's not logical, but it's the way my brain works.

So I think "failure", perhaps the batteries need to be replaced. Luckily, being the anal retentive child that I am, I have the appropriate batteries in my freezer. I grab them, go into the laundry room, climb on top of the dryer to get to the smoke alarm, and start to disconnect it. When the phone rings. Adrenaline again! Just when it had sort of started to settle down. Yikes!

"Ma'am, sorry to call so late but we're getting an alarm signal from your house." Well, duh! Of course, it didn't help that I hadn't put in my code to turn the alarm off. Duh! He says they'll put that sensor in test mode so I can change the batteries without the alarm sounding. And then gives me a number to call if I have any questions.

I'm a pretty smart person. I am normally pretty good with mechanics and smoke detectors are pretty simple objects. I took it down, replaced the batteries, and then I could NOT get it back up. I lined up the hooks, twisted, and they just wouldn't hold. I'm standing on the dryer. I'm in my nightgown. It's 12:30 am. I'm tired. My eyes are tired. My head is cocked to the side because I'm taller than the ceiling is high when standing on the dryer. And I can't get the stupid thing back together. I want to cry. I want to yell. I want someone else to make it all better. But there's just me. So I try again. And again. And again. And yell at myself for not paying closer attention when I took it down. Is there a trick I've forgotten since the last time I replaced the batteries? Oh, the frustration!

Finally, it occurs to me that the new batteries are sticking up past the surface of the cover. Hmm....Could that be the problem? I turn the one battery sideways in the hole. Now the batteries are flat in their holes. I put the cover against the hooks. I twist. It holds. Eureka!

All is well, right? Not so much. I go upstairs. Test the System Status again. "Sensor 4 Smoke Failure." What? All that effort (okay, it shouldn't have been THAT hard) and it's still not working? I want to cry again.

I call ADT. Thank goodness the guy had given me the number so I didn't have to look it up. The CSR walks through the reset procedures with me. Still getting the alarm failure. We try a different procedure. Still getting the alarm failure. "Is there anything I can do to just set the window and door alarm, and not this alarm, and get some sleep?" "Sure, ma'am. Do this." So I do. And the alarm is set. And it doesn't beep 6 times at me.

It's now 1 am. Adrenaline is still racing through my veins. So I read for a little while again. 1:30 am, I turn off the lights again. Will I be able to sleep? I'm so tired. Yes, my body says. But only for 4 hours until the alarm - the clock one - goes off again.

Sleep. Elusive. Tired.

The Awkwardness Of Death

I went to a funeral today. Well, actually I guess it wasn't a funeral since it didn't include an interment. But it wasn't a memorial service either since there was a body in the room. So I guess funeral is the best word for it.

It was an awkward situation. For several reasons. First, apparently several of the children didn't know about each other until recently. I don't know all the details, but some of them had not really intended to be there but for their mother's final requests. As a consequence, there was a second awkwardness. A couple of the children - and these are people in the 40s and 50s - came to the service in clothes that are utterly inappropriate for a funeral. One was in a Hawaiian shirt. A couple of were in blue jeans. Another was in a Harley t-shirt. Strange behavior even if you didn't know you were going to be there a day before. Third, the only people at the funeral besides the family were five of us who know one of the children from hanging out at a local bar. Now, we've all known each other for a long time. And we know each other more than it might sound like from that initial description. But that is where we met. We met at a bar. Fourth, there was a dead body in the room. At least the coffin was closed. Fifth, the preacher did not know the deceased. Now, I didn't know her either - I know her daughter - but I didn't have to talk about her the way he did. How awkward it must be to be a preacher in that situation. To try to offer comfort to people you don't know for a family member you don't know. The only thing he knew was that she was a faithful person. And so he read scripture. Fine. And she had all the children that didn't know each other. And so he suggested that they take the opportunity to get to know each other. And to me that was awkward. That was reaching too far when he didn't really know what her wishes were. He knew that her wishes were that her children attend her funeral. But getting to know each other? He had no way of knowing that was her wish. Sixth, at least one of her children - the one that I know - is not religious. She in fact considers herself a pagan. In the best sense of that word. She believes in spirituality. In goodness. In the goddess. And so the preacher reading scripture and talking about the kingdom of heaven was awkward.

But I have a theory. I think funerals are often awkward. At that moment in time, people are uncomfortable. Their emotions are strained. People come together - some the family may know, and others that the family may not know - strangers trying to join together to honor the dead. It's awkward.

A New Era In Grocery Shopping

I remember years ago, George H.W. Bush was taken to a grocery store when he was president to see new scanner technology - something related to RFID I think. I guess he hadn't been to a grocery store in a while because he was shocked by the whole experience, something that the rest of us experienced frequently.

Today, I went to the local Giant for the first time in a while. I'm generally a Safeway shopper. Mostly because my local Safeway has a great baked goods section, and I'm a fan of fresh bagels and their chocolate chip cookies. But the Safeway hasn't been stocking the paper towels that I like in the amount that I like - you can't even buy a single roll; you have to buy an 8-pack, which is many too many rolls for me and I have no place to stock that many anyway. Since I didn't need cookies and I decided to get bread or English muffins for my breakfasts, I thought I would go to the Giant instead.

Another reason that I don't like Giant is that they have stupid self-checkout stations. First, you have to scan your Giant bonus card before you even start checking out. At Safeway, you can scan your bonus card at any time, and I usually do it at the end when I get out my debit card to pay. Since they are in the same wallet, that's the easiest thing to do. At the Giant self-checkout, you can't scan and bag at the same time. You have to scan everything and then bag. They have someone to help you bag, but that person has to handle several lanes and may or may not get to you in time. When the "bagging area" gets full, you have to go bag some groceries to make room for more to come down the lane.

Now, I guess there are two reasons for this. First, it probably helps with inventory control. It seems like it might be harder to put something in a bag that you haven't scanned. Maybe. And second, it encourages people who are buying a huge quantity of food NOT to use the self-checkout. I assume that Giant wants the self-checkout lanes to be used primarily by those with only a few items - even though there are no signs to indicate this above the lanes.

I don't buy all that many groceries. After all, it's just me. So most of the time, I fill two large bags that I bring from home. Which ironically are Giant bags. Even though I most often use them at Safeway. Anyway, I don't buy less than 15 items, but it's usually not more than 20 or 25. And still the bagging area fills up at least once before I'm done. It's annoying.

So Giant's self-checkout actually DIScourages me from using Giant.

But today was a new era. Today Giant impressed me.

I'm not sure if it's a new thing. I don't know if I'm being Papa Bush in saying this. But today I was impressed by the fact that Giant allows you to carry a scanner around the store. Scan the items as you put them in your cart in your bags that you brought with you or in bags that you pick up where you pick up the scanner. And then, and this is beauty of it, you can pay from your cart. You can then just pick up your groceries and go. Amazing.

Now I didn't actually try this cool new technology. I don't really understand how you pay from the scanner. I don't know how Giant controls for shoplifting with this system. I mean, couldn't you just put things in your bag without scanning them?

But what a cool idea! It means many less people going through the checkout lanes. Self-checkout or otherwise. And you know what? A lot of people were using the scanners.

Bravo, Giant! You can bet that I will be back to try the scanner system another day. It's a new era.

A Better Day

My father is out of the hospital. I talked to him earlier today, and he seems in good spirits but short of breath. That makes me nervous. On the other hand, he didn't get much rest in the hospital last night. And he did have surgery yesterday. So maybe I shouldn't be that concerned. But I'm going to go out to their home tomorrow. That will give me a good chance to evaluate the situation in person. I'm hopeful, but as I said, still nervous.

I had a good day otherwise. I found some wine glasses for my mother - in a style that we have used for a while but needed a few more of. I found a present for my buddy Kevin, whose birthday is at the end of the month. I bought a new cordless phone that has two extensions. The salesman told me that I could program the phone so that it doesn't use the built-in answering machine. Which was really quite easy to do. The extension phone worked immediately after it was plugged in - something that didn't happen with the phone I had previously. That extension phone did not work. Ever. I got a couple of silver rings, discounted because there hadn't been much business today. I picked up some eye moisturizer that should last me through the dryness of the winter. Finally, I got more kitten and cat food - so I'm stocked for the duration of kitten-dom. All in all, a good shopping excursion.

Weird Day

Today was a good news/bad news day.

Good news:
I picked up three new foster kittens. I'm only going to have them for a week or so. Basically, the ranch, where the cats and dogs live while they are waiting to be adopted, is having a bout of upper respiratory infection. So not a place we want to put healthy cats. While the infection is working its way out, I'll have the kittens. Probably for about a week. They are very cute, but pretty traumatized at this point after a long car ride to get to NoVA and then to my house. They'll probably be much perkier tomorrow.

Bad news:
My uncle Bill has been battling health issues for a while now. He had mouth cancer and had to have all his teeth removed. He hasn't been able to find dentures that really fit right, and so he's been eating pureed food for quite a while. Then he had to have a heart stint put in. Apparently he was having bladder issues and they couldn't diagnose them until after the heart stint was stable. But yesterday they found a carcinoma. Don't know the extent of the problem yet, but not a good situation on top of the other two.

Good news:
Tomorrow is the birthday of one of my bestest friends - Happy Birthday, Kevin!

Bad news:
My mom called tonight. My father has been feeling run down for a while and felt like his pulse was slower than it should be. This morning he went to the health center on the Asbury campus, and they sent him to the emergency room. Where he was admitted and they put in a pace maker. I don't know much about pace makers, and I think it's *relatively* not a big deal. But scary nonetheless. My father is 82, so his health is bound to have some issues though he's been remarkably healthy until now. But these last few months, things have been getting rougher health-wise. He had a mini-stroke in January. He had diverticulosis this summer. Now this. None of these are major events. But lots of little events are still darn scary.

Here's hoping that tomorrow all the news is good.

Too Many Phone Options

I have caller ID through my local phone company. I also have two old corded phones. And one cordless phone.

Until recently, the caller ID on the cordless phone was working just fine. And I almost never used it. The cordless phone is upstairs, and in the evening, I am almost always downstairs. When the phone rings, I don't actually run upstairs to look at the cordless phone before answering. In fact, much of the time, I don't answer the phone at all. If the phone hangs up in the middle of my answering machine message, then I know it was an automatic dialer and not a call I wanted to take. If someone leaves a message, I can usually hear it and know that I have a call that I may really need to return. It's been a pretty good system.

But the one aspect of the caller ID on the cordless phone that I did use quite a bit was the redial of a number in the caller ID directory. For example, my niece might call me. To call her back, all I would have to do is go through the caller ID list and pull up her number and dial it. Much easier than looking her number up. It only works for local calls, but many of the people who call me are local. So all in all, I found this a convenience.

But recently, my caller ID on my cordless phone stopped working. Unfortunately, neither of my corded phones have this function. I called the local phone company, and they checked their system. They said all looked fine from their end. Hmmm.....

The cordless phone also came with an answering machine. As with the caller ID, I have voice mail through my local phone company. I never use that service - it came with the calling plan - I just use the answering machine that came with the cordless phone. But I noticed the other day when I went to make a call, that the dial tone was three short beeps. Which meant I had a voice mail, not a message on my answering machine. As I said, however, I had never used this system. I hadn't even set up a password for it. But I had noticed it right before I called the local phone company about my caller ID issue, so I asked them about my voice mail service. They gave me the number to call to check voice mail and to set up a voice mail system with my voice on it. Which I did. I had four voice mails, including one that was over a year old. Very strange.

So after these two episodes, I thought why don't I get a newer cordless phone - one that has caller ID and no answering machine. That way, hopefully my caller ID problem might be solved, but at a minimum, I would be able to get rid of having an answering machine and a voice mailbox.

Did you know you can't buy a cordless phone without an answering machine? Every single style and manufacturer, even if they had multiple cordless extensions, had at least one with an answering machine.

Now I suppose it's possible that I could "disable" the answering machine on the cordless phone. I know other people who have cordless phones and phone company voice mail. There has to be a way to do this.

But it seems more complicated than it needs to be. And in the meantime, I still don't have functioning caller ID. And I have two methods to get messages. From all those auto-dialers.

Tchotchkes

Apparently, I have a lot of tchotchkes. Otherwise known as knickknacks. I collect vases, so I have quite a bit of those. I have both glass and ceramic ones. The display case in my living room has about 20 vases. The rest of my house has probably a dozen more.

I have a couple of other display areas. One is a collection of tchotchkes from my college days - a Lego castle, a pair of glass dolphins arcing over a piece of wood, a couple of Russian nesting dolls - all things that I either got from college beaus or from my sister on her travels during that time. So they have some sentimental value.

But to show my house, I need to seriously limit the number of tchotchkes on display. For the pictures of my home, there should be only minimal displays. That way, the house will look less cluttered and bigger.

The same thing goes for pictures on the walls. I asked my real estate professionals, and they said that it's good to have some bare walls. Rather than having something on each wall.

Same idea with closets. It's best to have the closets be somewhat empty. They look bigger that way.

Needless to say, I'm not going to throw all this stuff away. Instead, I will have to rent a storage space for a few months. Until I sell this house and buy another one.

So if you come to my house in the next couple of months, you'll see fewer tchotchkes. For now.

Busy Weekend

So this weekend I am very, very busy. I am painting my master bedroom. I am going to a concert a couple of hours away. I am having brunch with one of my girlfriends to celebrate my birthday. I also plan to work out each day of the weekend. I need to do the usual errands - dry cleaning, groceries, cat food, etc. And then I also want to take some clothes to be altered. And return some others that I bought online that don't really fit. And maybe buy some replacements for the ones I'm returning. Finally, I am planning to rent a storage space so I can start moving some of my things into it to stage my townhouse for sale in early 2010.

Whew! Could be a really, really fast weekend.

Birthday - Week Four

My record for birthday celebrations is six weeks. This year, I'm at four weeks.

Celebration #1 (9/20): My family's celebration, a joint celebration with my cousin Steve and his newborn son, whose birthdays were just before mine. This celebration of MY birthday was overshadowed by the celebration of the BIRTH of Quinton - and you know, that's exactly how it should be. What's year 47 compared to year 1?

Celebration #2 (9/26): My actual birthday, dinner with my good friend Kevin in New Hampshire. We saw a moose on the way to dinner. Freaked out Kevin, but made me happy! I've always wanted to see a moose in the wild.

Celebration #3 (10/2): Celebration with a bunch of my buds at a bar where we often hang out. Needless to say, I didn't pay for my glass of wine. :)

And the celebrations to come....

Celebration #4 (10/10): A concert with my other friend Kevin. We're going to see Nick Lowe (with opener Bill Kirchman) at the Avalon Theater in Easton, Maryland. Should be a fun night out to hear good music. Pretty much my favorite thing on earth.

Celebration #5 (10/11): Brunch with my good friend Cindy at our favorite place for brunch, Artie's, one of the Great American Restaurants. Possibly the best French toast ever. A brioche soaked in eggs and cinnamon. With scrambled eggs, bacon, and hash browns. Yum!

Four weeks and counting....

Is It Really That Bad?

I know the economy is bad. I understand that retailers are hurting. But I just saw a Christmas commercial for Sears. It's October! Please!

I noticed the other day that Hallmark has its annual Christmas ornament in stores, too. I've seen that in year's past and thought it was absurd to display Christmas before Halloween.

But it's one thing to have something in a store. But on TV?

At this rate, Christmas is going to be like elections - we'll all be sick of it before it gets here.

Bad Business

I'm always amazed when people make bad business decisions. Not that I'm the best business person in the whole world. But sometimes people just make decisions that seem so obvious to me to be wrong. And bad business at the same time.

For example, I know a guy who opened a new restaurant. It was built in the shell of another restaurant that had a reasonable amount of business, but had gone out of business nonetheless. So I guess the new owner thought that the area was known to have a restaurant, that people would come to the new restaurant if it shared enough of the good menu items from the previous restaurant, and he hired a bunch of the servers from the old restaurant who would bring back their regular customers.

Except that he didn't address some of the reasons that the other restaurant had closed. He didn't do much advertising, for example. He didn't point people to the new restaurant. It was in the same place, yes. But many of the stores that had led to the old restaurant weren't there anymore. The mall as a whole has been getting less business. Given this economy, that's not a surprise. And all the more reason to let people know about a new business. So yes, some of the regular came back. But not all of them. In the time between restaurants, they had found other places to go. They didn't automatically switch back. Maybe they found the other restaurant was ultimately more satisfying. Maybe they were just in a new pattern and too lazy to change again. And maybe they just didn't know that the new restaurant was there. If they didn't have another reason to go by the space, how would they have known? Bad business.

The restaurants in the area have all started offering a happy hour, when none of them did before. Seems like a good business decision. Bring in more happy hour traffic and make more money overall. But if you offer half price drinks, then you have to bring in double the business to make the same money. That's the simple math of it. And if you do it for most of the evening that the restaurant is open, then you will ultimately make less money. Bad business.

But this particular restaurateur didn't think about that. Instead, he's expecting to make the same sales he used to make. Even though the prices are lower when the business is greatest. And he's open fewer hours. Bad business.

Am I the only one who recognizes that this is bad business?

Home-Buying

One of my cousins is buying a home for the first time. She's so excited. It's lovely to see. Buying a home is still one of the major rites of passage in life. It makes you feel like a grown-up. Not to mention the tax write-offs.

As I said, it's her first home. And that's actually the easy one, although it's scary to do it the first time. To sign your name a million times. To take on that level of debt.

But when you buy another home, when you have a home to sell, it gets more challenging. Because when there are two houses involved, there are many more logistics. It could actually be three houses - the house you are buying, the house you are selling, and the house that your buyer is selling. That's a lot of dominoes to fall in line.

It used to be that you could make an offer on a house and then wait to close until your house sold. So that you could roll the money from one house to the other. But in today's economy, that's no longer an option. From all reports, each person/household has to find the financing to buy that next house WITHOUT selling the previous house.

Of course, you pay yourself back. But it's tough. Because it's hard to get a loan in this economy.

So that's my challenge. I'll let you know how it goes...

On Being 47

I'm the youngest of my brothers and sisters. So maybe that's why I feel like I'm still young. I'm healthy. I'm in pretty good shape. I feel young.

But when I'm out and about. When I'm at animal rescue events. I notice that I am older. I see it in the eyes of the kids who come out to help. I see it in the potential adopters who look to me as a voice of authority, even though I have almost none. They see me as an adult.

And I realized this even more this past weekend. When I got older. When I had a birthday.

When I first let my gray hair come in, when I was 43, it was premature. I have premature gray hair, if not now then because I started getting gray at 17. For 22 years, I colored my hair. At 35, I let the gray hair come in. Then, it just made me look older. So I went back to coloring it. At 43, I let the gray hair show through again. I love not having to color my hair. I get lots of compliments on my hair color - though, granted, they are mostly from women. And I'll admit that I feel a certain satisfaction in being comfortable enough with myself - as I am - that I don't need to color my hair.

But my gray hair is not so premature anymore. Now that I'm 47, having gray hair isn't all that unusual. I think it's still a little premature. But not by much. Not as much as it used to be.

I had the same feeling about not being married. When I was in my 30s, I wasn't worried about not being married. I figured it would happen eventually. Now I'm almost 50, and it hasn't happened. And now I think, maybe it never will. I realized this also over the weekend when I celebrated my birthday, and I realized that I am the same age as my brother when he got married. And that we all thought he was quite old when he got married. And that we thought he'd never get married. And all that time, when we were thinking that he would never get married, I always thought that someday, some woman would be smart enough to realize what a catch he is and snatch him up. And then it happened. With a woman he'd known for a really long time. Who finally made him realize that he loved her too.

So I'm 47. And I'm an adult. And I have gray hair. And I've never been married. And I am old.

Seasons Change

Yesterday was the first day of autumn. I love the change in seasons. By the end of summer, I'm ready for it to be cool again. Ready for the crisp fall air. Ready for the leaves to change - though not particularly ready to rake them. :)

I don't know if it's because I've always lived where there is a change of seasons - as opposed to someplace cold where there's really no summer or someplace warm where there's really no winter - but I have found that I'm pretty much done with each season as it draws to a close. I'm ready for the next type of weather. I'm bored with my wardrobe and ready to move back to the other set of clothes.

So come on autumn! I'm ready for you.

Entering The Housing Market

Tonight, I had the real estate ladies over to give me an assessment on my house and the possibilities for the next house.

The good news - I think I should be able to sell my place for about what I thought I would.

The bad news - I have to get new carpet for the downstairs before I can show my house.

The good news - I have a great credit score so I should be able to get a good loan and rates are still low.

The bad news - I have to rent a storage space to move some of my tchochkes and clothes to "stage" my house for possible buyers.

The good news - The real estate ladies have another property listed that actually sounds pretty ideal for me - 3 BR, 3BA, 2 fireplaces, 1-car garage.

The bad news - No one gets contingency sales anymore, which means I have to come up with a bunch of money to put down on the new place to close the sale - BEFORE I sell my place.

The good news - I may be able to get that money from family.

The bad news - I don't really like borrowing money from my family.

More news to come....