Eating That Elephant--Weight Loss Ruminations

Okay, this is the beginning of the weight loss aspect of my blog. Many times I’ve read and heard the “experts” say that you should write about your eating in a journal or something similar. Although I love to write, I have always resisted this suggestion. Well, up until now that is. Yesterday, I cleaned out my fridge. In fact, you might say that starting this blog is an ideal way for me to postpone cleaning out the pantry as well, but I digress. At any rate, during that somewhat unappetizing chore, I pondered the idea of writing about my weight loss efforts and the attendant random, disjointed thoughts about food, eating, health, etc. that usually accompany such efforts. And I came to the conclusion that writing about such things certainly would not hurt me in my endeavors and, indeed, may even help. Hence this blog.

Today’s missive is simply an introductory entry explaining what I intend to do to dump my excess weight, and how it’s affecting me and impacting my progress. A nice side benefit is that some of you may even find some useful methods in here that can help you in your own struggles. I know I am not in this alone. Simply put, I plan to cover a great deal of ground—handy tips, food tracking, and exacerbating exercise, to name just a few of them.

So…what elephant am I eating? And how is eating such a monstrous portion going to help with weight loss? In case you haven’t heard, there is an old saw that goes: How do you eat an elephant? One bite at a time. Bluntly put, I didn’t gain this weight overnight, I shouldn’t expect to lose it that quickly either. It is the cumulative result of a variety of bad habits and I know I can only conquer it a bit(e) at a time. So this will be an ongoing process and one that is only beginning, since maintaining it will require a lifelong commitment.

While that may seem a bit daunting, and you’re probably thinking, “You have to diet for the rest of your life?!?!?!”, I assure you I will not be dieting for the rest of my life. I will, however, be changing my relationship with food so that my eating habits, ultimately, will be transformed into habits I can happily live with for the rest of my life. And, truth be told, I am hopeful that a side benefit to all my work will mean my life will last much longer than it probably will if I continue following my current modus operandi where food is concerned.

So my plan is to implement these changes bit by bit. After all, past experience indicates that attempting to begin a rigid, daily regimen of hard core exercise, coupled with copious calorie counting, and supplemented by strictly healthy consumption of foods devoid of sugar, fat, and all other types of “bad” things, does nothing more than discourage me. Consequently, it never takes long for my resolve to dissolve and I end up right back at square one.

Personally, I am tired of looking at Square One. I am ready to move past it and keep on trucking. Come along with me if you like…..

 

At Last!—An Outlet for Road Rage

I realize that some of you believe you have already availed yourselves of an outlet for this modern stress-generating phenomenon. Of course, you are the same people who fail to realize that carrying a concealed weapon is illegal or that it’s nearly impossible to aim a shoulder-held rocket launcher while driving in rush hour traffic. You may be well beyond the help of anyone. But, on the off-chance that you’re not, read this and perhaps it will help you avoid that prison term looming in your future.

I propose that we make available to the public both front grill- and rear bumper- mounted paintball gun-type equipment. Ideally, the swivel device that each apparatus would be mounted on would allow each one to rotate a full 180 degrees so that the victims……er…….recipients of our expressions of dismay could be reached even if located off to our right or left.

So far as ammunition is concerned, there would be various types available for purchase. To begin with, all paint supplies would be water soluble so those folks on the receiving end may get rid of their vehicle-based scarlet letters with reasonable ease and have the opportunity to begin anew as courteous drivers once they’ve eliminated the evidence of their vehicular transgressions. Potentially, they would not have to be ‘recipients’ for very long before learning just what they are doing wrong—AND correcting it. Of course, those who commit a plethora of transgressions will spend a great deal of time and effort on personal car care—at least starting out.

Along with being water soluble, ammunition would be available in different types. The least expensive one would be the standard paintball ammo already currently available on the market. More upscale versions would be developed and sold at higher prices which would be driven by their specificity as well as the complexity of their associated manufacturing process.

I suggest we use a variety of symbols to express our displeasure with the Road Idiots we encounter. There could be a package of symbols that do our name-calling for us. The names we ascribe to our fellow drivers could simply be represented by a single letter, i.e. B for bitch, I for idiot, D for dickhead, etc. A pretty simple system, but still potentially effective.

Another package option could consist of graphic symbols. For instance, a picture of a mule could mean ass; a picture of a penis means dick. Of course, whether graphically- or alphabetically-based we would also have packages which are rated to match our particular vernacular. These would use a rating system similar to those used for movies or video games. I would suggest the following ratings: A denoting adult - for packages containing profanity; P denoting prude – for packages without profanity; N denoting nicely nasty – for those who aren’t prudes but are reluctant to join the adults. To clarify how this system would work, one example of the same sentiment expressed by the 3 different packages would be: Package A – an S for shithead; Package G – a J for jerk; and Package N – a P for poopyhead.

Of course, along with this new line of consumer products, we would need some laws to govern the use of the equipment and its ammo. Considering just some of the possibilities…it would be illegal to alter the trajectory of the launching apparatus, thereby allowing one to essentially launch at the offending vehicles’ windows and potentially interfering with the driver’s line of sight, thereby rendering him/her even more of a Road Hazard than he/she already may be. It would also be a crime to launch our expressions of displeasure at motorcyclists and bicyclists, as they are not afforded the same physical protection as drivers of enclosed vehicles. And, it should probably also be illegal to launch at pedestrians—no matter how tempting.

Such a system would give us an outlet to vent our frustrations sans violence, perhaps making the roads safer for us all—maybe lowering our blood pressures simultaneously. So there could also be some health benefits inherent in the use of such equipment.

For those of you chomping at the bit, money clutched in your fists, ready to be the first in line to obtain this system—CHILL! The product and ammunition is still in the research and development stages. I will keep you posted as we near the point of actual manufacture. In the meantime, if you think of anything that could improve this innovation, please let me know. Of course, you will need to sign and submit the attached release allowing me to utilize your brilliant idea(s), without incurring any obligation whatsoever to you, monetary or otherwise.


Word Count - 782
 

Do-Over Anyone?

Don’t know about you, but I believe in reincarnation. Yeah, I think that we all ‘recycle’ through this world over and over again, all the while learning lessons and evolving into more perfect creatures with each pass through. Unfortunately, while we become more perfect, we don’t consciously remember our previous lives or their hardships and triumphs. Save for that occasional deja-vu incident, the particulars of each are lost to us, save for the lessons that we truly learned. That wisdom, we carry forward with us—thus our evolving process.

I also know, through my own personal experience, that people are wanting creatures. Take, for instance, the occupation/profession we pursue. I can’t speak for everyone, but I’ve never felt content with just one--kinda like that potato chip can’t-eat-just-one thing. So here lately, I’ve decided that I’ll happily forego one of my “pass throughs” if I can just get one do-over—similar to the trade-in process many of us use when purchasing a new car. Except, in this instance, we trade-in one future life to essentially put our lives on rewind, go back to our younger days, and choose a different career path than the one we are currently on. And we don’t even have to find financing for the transaction! It just costs us one future life and our credit scores remain unaffected. Of course, if the cosmos, in its infinite wisdom, decided to charitably give us a do-over without our having to trade-in one of our future lives, that would certainly be okay with me.

Actually, there are an abundance of reasons why I want a do-over, aside from the career aspect of life. I want to go to school fresh out of high school, or at least within a couple of years. That way, I can earn more money to enjoy during the years I spend learning that money isn’t everything. I could, of course, use that money to buy a decent house. And my money would also allow me to change my house to suit my needs as they change, so I wouldn’t ever have to move to a new house. I would also begin saving for retirement the moment I began my new and more lucrative career. And, considering the higher pay I would be earning, I would avoid credit cards, car loans, charge accounts, etc. by paying cash for everything except my mortgage. For the mortgage I would make sure I saved a large enough down payment that I could get the very lowest interest rate available anywhere.

The actual career path I would take in my rewound years is something I’m still pondering. I’d love to sing professionally, which raises a whole new question to address. After we rewind, would we be imbued with talents we did not have previously? If not, could we make arrangements to obtain them? Perhaps via a financial transaction? Which, of course, would mandate development of a new form of currency with which to complete the purchase—say, some kind of Cosmic Currency, since I’m sure the currencies used in reality would be totally inappropriate for such things. Besides which, it makes more sense to have a universal currency for use by anyone who chooses a do-over that involves a monetary transaction.

If the purchase of previously absent talents/skills was not an option, then I would definitely have to rethink my choice of career. Singing talent is something in which I am woefully lacking. Perhaps I could become a forensic psychologist—something I’ve always imagined would be fascinating to do. It just doesn’t seem realistic to begin schooling for such an endeavor at my current age. I mean, the forensic psychologists who testify in court on Law and Order and other popular crime series have years of experience in the field which is what leads them to be considered experts in the first place. And why would anyone want to engage in a profession where they wouldn’t be considered an expert—at least eventually.

In terms of my love life, I would delay marriage until much, much later in life—especially avoiding the losers that I previously and erroneously thought were good matches for me. Of course, one of the reasons I’d be able to do that would be the hard-won wisdom that I amassed during the previous, pre-rewind years—part of which includes the knowledge that what is inside a person matters much more than their outward appearance. Maybe I’d just ‘use’ the attractive men until I found one of real substance, being sure not to take the lookers too seriously. After all, attractive CAN be fun even if it isn’t anything solid enough for the long term.

So far as my mental health is concerned, a change would be in order as well. I would, upon reaching adulthood and obtaining my own healthcare insurance, immediately begin therapy with a licensed counselor. Better to begin addressing any childhood issues that could have a negative impact on my adulthood BEFORE that impact actually takes place—what a novel idea!

Yep, a do-over sounds like a great idea to me, especially if I can have it while retaining everything I’ve learned up to this point.
Do-Over Anyone?

Don’t know about you, but I believe in reincarnation. Yeah, I think that we all ‘recycle’ through this world over and over again, all the while learning lessons and evolving into more perfect creatures with each pass through. Unfortunately, while we become more perfect, we don’t consciously remember our previous lives or their hardships and triumphs. Save for that occasional deja-vu incident, the particulars of each are lost to us, save for the lessons that we truly learned. That wisdom, we carry forward with us—thus our evolving process.

I also know, through my own personal experience, that people are wanting creatures. Take, for instance, the occupation/profession we pursue. I can’t speak for everyone, but I’ve never felt content with just one--kinda like that potato chip can’t-eat-just-one thing. So here lately, I’ve decided that I’ll happily forego one of my “pass throughs” if I can just get one do-over—similar to the trade-in process many of us use when purchasing a new car. Except, in this instance, we trade-in one future life to essentially put our lives on rewind, go back to our younger days, and choose a different career path than the one we are currently on. And we don’t even have to find financing for the transaction! It just costs us one future life and our credit scores remain unaffected. Of course, if the cosmos, in its infinite wisdom, decided to charitably give us a do-over without our having to trade-in one of our future lives, that would certainly be okay with me.

Actually, there are an abundance of reasons why I want a do-over, aside from the career aspect of life. I want to go to school fresh out of high school, or at least within a couple of years. That way, I can earn more money to enjoy during the years I spend learning that money isn’t everything. I could, of course, use that money to buy a decent house. And my money would also allow me to change my house to suit my needs as they change, so I wouldn’t ever have to move to a new house. I would also begin saving for retirement the moment I began my new and more lucrative career. And, considering the higher pay I would be earning, I would avoid credit cards, car loans, charge accounts, etc. by paying cash for everything except my mortgage. For the mortgage I would make sure I saved a large enough down payment that I could get the very lowest interest rate available anywhere.

The actual career path I would take in my rewound years is something I’m still pondering. I’d love to sing professionally, which raises a whole new question to address. After we rewind, would we be imbued with talents we did not have previously? If not, could we make arrangements to obtain them? Perhaps via a financial transaction? Which, of course, would mandate development of a new form of currency with which to complete the purchase—say, some kind of Cosmic Currency, since I’m sure the currencies used in reality would be totally inappropriate for such things. Besides which, it makes more sense to have a universal currency for use by anyone who chooses a do-over that involves a monetary transaction.

If the purchase of previously absent talents/skills was not an option, then I would definitely have to rethink my choice of career. Singing talent is something in which I am woefully lacking. Perhaps I could become a forensic psychologist—something I’ve always imagined would be fascinating to do. It just doesn’t seem realistic to begin schooling for such an endeavor at my current age. I mean, the forensic psychologists who testify in court on Law and Order and other popular crime series have years of experience in the field which is what leads them to be considered experts in the first place. And why would anyone want to engage in a profession where they wouldn’t be considered an expert—at least eventually.

In terms of my love life, I would delay marriage until much, much later in life—especially avoiding the losers that I previously and erroneously thought were good matches for me. Of course, one of the reasons I’d be able to do that would be the hard-won wisdom that I amassed during the previous, pre-rewind years—part of which includes the knowledge that what is inside a person matters much more than their outward appearance. Maybe I’d just ‘use’ the attractive men until I found one of real substance, being sure not to take the lookers too seriously. After all, attractive CAN be fun even if it isn’t anything solid enough for the long term.

So far as my mental health is concerned, a change would be in order as well. I would, upon reaching adulthood and obtaining my own healthcare insurance, immediately begin therapy with a licensed counselor. Better to begin addressing any childhood issues that could have a negative impact on my adulthood BEFORE that impact actually takes place—what a novel idea!

Yep, a do-over sounds like a great idea to me, especially if I can have it while still retaining everything I’ve learned up to this point.

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Actually this was written yesterday, but I fell asleep on my couch last night before I got it posted.......

Word Count - 867

 

Word count - 518

Morning Shoe Angst

Wow. This is a first. It seems that somehow, sometime during the nighttime hours, my autopilot went on the fritz. And you’re probably thinking--How does she know this? It’s simple. Upon arriving here at work, I was surprised to discover that I’m wearing the wrong shoes. Wrong shoes? If you are a woman, or mayhap a gay man, then you are more prone to understand this than the straight, and often homophobic, men are. Simply put? I have certain shoes that I wear with certain outfits. That’s just the way I live. Some outfits are multi-talented and can support various pairs and styles of shoes, but not the one I am wearing today.

Today I am wearing a black, heeled, oxford style outfit. But, letting my autopilot get me ready this morning (being unaware that it was broken), I have arrived to work wearing a black, heeled, oxford style outfit with a brown, Earth shoe brand, lace-up, ankle boot. So it occurs to me…….Is it possible and/or likely that when the earthquake in Chile knocked the Earth a bit off its axis my autopilot ended up experiencing a delayed reaction to the trauma?

It would have to be explained by something pretty darned catastrophic, as my autopilot has never failed me before—at least not in matters of fashion. It is true that I sometimes turn it on while driving, and end up taking wrong turns when I’m going somewhere that’s not part of my normal driving path. But that’s merely due to a slight ‘glitch’ in my autopilot driver 3.0 program, and not the fault of my autopilot itself. After all, you know how this stuff works—garbage in, garbage out.

The worst part of having your autopilot screw up in the realm of fashion, as it has with my shoes, is that you then must grapple with the question of whether or not you can even manage to make it through the entire workday—it is such a severe blow to the psyche. And, of course, that leads to the need for pondering such profound questions as: Can I effectively play sick and go home? What kind of sick should I be? Would vomiting on the boss’s shoes lend an air of truth to my story? Or would that be overkill? and Will the boss remember that I had to leave work unexpectedly two weeks ago due to defective, twisted underwear that kept ‘sneaking up’ on me annoyingly, thereby ruining my entire day?

It gives me a headache just thinking about the things I will have to think about in order to come to a decision on this situation. Perhaps I’ll get lucky and the boss won’t come in to work today. Of course, I don’t wish anything bad to happen to her, maybe just something slightly irritating, but bad enough to make her want to take one of those mental health days………Aha! That headache I could give myself with this thinking thingie could be just the excuse that I need………I’ll let you know how it works out—I know you’ll be dying to hear.

 

Today's word count - 601

Damn! Five a.m. comes awfully early in the morning. For those of you who aren’t aware……It’s still DARK at 5 a.m.! Now that you have this information, do you feel enlightened? You would think I’d be more wide awake this morning—given that I began falling asleep on my living room sofa at around 9 last night. Finally woke up enough at 11:30 to stumble off to bed. At any rate, I figure I got 2 to 3 hours more sleep than I normally do and still it was quite a struggle to get outta bed this morning. Go figure.

Gee, I sure didn’t get much blog written this morning before heading off to work……

So here I am, it’s bedtime and I’m scurrying to get my daily 500 words finished. By the way, can anyone here tell me why it is that our minds go blank when we’re in a hurry to finish such a task? I’d much rather already be finished with this and curled up in my warm and cozy bed. Oh nevermind. It was really just a rhetorical question.

Watched the guys sing on American Idol tonight. At least four of them did VERY badly—lots of pitch problems and some really hinky song arrangements. So far I believe Lee Dewyze is my favorite. He kinda reminds me of David Cook. My next pick after Lee would be either Casey (can’t remember his last name) or Michael Lynche. I hope Crystal Bowersox is okay. She’s one of my favorites among the women competing this time around.

Speaking of American Idol, I like Ellen DeGeneras, but she needs to quit rambling when she critiques the competitors. Sounds like she’s trying to do a Paula Abdul impression—only at least we understand what Ellen says, unlike most of Paula’s critiques. And personally, I always felt like Paula was afraid to be honest with the people competing. She sounded as if she had attended the Pollyanna School of Evaluation—ALWAYS find something positive. Tonight I saw that Ellen doesn’t share that fear. She was never unkind to anyone, just honest. And while I LOVE Simon Cowell and respect his opinion, he can be unkind without any effort whatsoever. Having said that, I rarely disagree with what he has to say about the performances. The man DOES know what he’s talking about.

Before this season started, I was considering not watching the show this time. Seems like I am spending more and more time in front of the television, which isn’t very conducive to getting other things accomplished. Anyway, I’m still trying to decide if I’m going to continue to watch the whole season. I’m seriously mulling over the possibility of having my cable cut to only local stations. That would still give me my favorites to entertain me—Grey’s Anatomy and House, to name just a couple, but would prevent my getting “lost” mindlessly in the wicked boob tube to the detriment of having an actual life.

Can’t tell you how many times it’s crossed my mind that if the people in TV shows spent as much time watching TV in those shows, we’d think them awfully dull and lacking any real excitement in their lives. In fact, we’d be so bored we’d probably all just turn the damned things off………Perhaps I’ll just designate certain days of the week as No TV days, or maybe I’ll turn it on ONLY to watch specific shows which I’ve chosen in advance. Well, it’s food for thought, and I think I’ve reached my 500 word goal so I am hitting the hay. Night!

 

I started to write this a while back. In fact, I posted it to another blog on a different website, on February 8, 2010—but the only thing I typed was the title. Almost immediately after getting the title down, I became distracted—by what I don’t recall—and I decided to come back to finish it later. And here I am, nearly one month later, returning to this unfinished entry to see it through to completion. Never, when I began this, did I realize it would end up being such a testament to the condition identified in the title

Unfortunately, I have not only procrastinated to the point of making at least some of you believe I have inexplicably dropped off the face of the earth or maybe simply have died, but I have also managed to completely forget what it is that I originally intended to write. All I can actually remember is that my original ideas were brilliant, humorous, at times philosophical, and frequently profound. Beyond that, I haven’t a clue.

And why would you take my word for it that my original ideas were so terrific? Why because, dear reader, I have never lied to you before. And I am shocked that you would have even considered it as a possibility.

I’m sorry. Give me just a moment to compose myself………

*sobbing into hankie, blowing nose loudly, and dabbing eyes dry*

There. That’s better.

I can assure you that, had I completed the original entry on the (as I recall) cold and dreary February day that I started it, you would have been completely enthralled with every word and turn of phrase. Just imagine yourself alternating between the proverbial belly laugh, small chuckles generated by the similarity of our procrastinationitis-driven experiences, and several of those “I SO know what you’re talking about” moments. That’s exactly what you would have been doing. Really.

So, for now, my personal guarantee of the high quality of prose that would have been displayed here, had I finished what I started, will just have to suffice. When, or perhaps I should say IF, those scintillating thoughts return to my mind, I promise to return to this page to type them for you and all posterity—that is, when I can find the time.

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Okay, I'm relatively new to this blogging stuff. I do have a blog on another site, but I'm not sure it fits the description of what a blog is supposed to be. For me, it generally ends up being a collection of my writing, in addition to whatever musings I wish to commit to the written form. So here, you might find a poem, a short story, a satire, an essay, or whatever else that happens to occur to me. I am assuming (ha!) that my blog can be whatever I wish it to be. I'm sure if I'm wrong about that, someone will probably clue me into that--at least I hope they do.

Happy reading!


Believe it or not, my word count for this entry ended up being EXACTLY 500 words! Is that an omen?

 

Snow UGH!?!?!?! Or Snow YIPPEE!?!?!?!?

This one is definitely a matter of perspective—at least for me. And my perspective is directly affected by my plans for the particular day that it’s snowing. Today it happens to be snowing, but I believe it’s gonna be a Snow YIPPEE kinda day.

If I can stay warm and comfy inside my house, ensconced on my couch in front of a crackling fireplace with my favorite afghan, a great book, and a hot cup of cocoa the YIPPEE factor is decidedly present. On the other hand, if I must venture out, especially to journey to my place of business the UGH factor tends to kick in.

Why, you ask? Well, I actually love snow and I especially love the look of snow, so long as it remains pure white, pristine and unsullied by human foot traffic and dirty tire tracks. Once those elements appear, it just isn’t so pretty. And I especially hate piles of the ugly grey stuff it becomes by virtue of the snow plow’s labors, lining the roadways in unsightly mounds where the plows unceremoniously shove it.

White, unspoiled snow, dredges up memories—Christmases past, nights and days when my whole family stayed at home, maybe not always happily, but at least steadfastly together, creating our own brand of warmth to protect us from winter’s cold just beyond our four walls. Such times reminded us that we were one, despite our daily comings and goings, one unit that no matter how scattered at times, always returned to that oneness and the love it contained for each of us.

Other memories connected to snow all seem tied to my senses in one way or another: the aroma of homemade soups and stews simmering on the stovetop; the sweet fragrance of chocolate chip cookies wafting from the oven teasing our taste buds with their promise of delicious delight; the clean smell of recently washed blankets, worn velvety soft by years of providing comfort and warmth; the lacy look of hedges and trees, laden with their loads of snow, forming spidery laceworks amongst their leafless, sleeping branches; the biting sting of snow against our faces, made sharper by the whirl of winter wind following closely behind; and the feeling of glee in our hearts and bodies as we formed snowball after snowball, lofting them at each other, through the chilling air in celebration of another snow day off from school.

Amazing how every happy memory seems to come from my childhood years. Perhaps that’s because, as a child, I didn’t think about having to dig the car out so I could drive to work, worrying about whether or not the water pipes might freeze or burst, anticipating the higher electric bill always generated by the lower temperatures, or that nagging concern in the back of my mind for those people who don’t have electricity, some who are even without homes.

All those negative things, at least for us lucky ones, never occurred to us as children—rearing their ugly heads only once we arrived on the doorstep of adulthood, no longer shielded from such concerns by loving parents who carried those concerns on their own shoulders so we could remain who we were—children—and just enjoy the snow until adult concerns and responsibilities forced us to step into Mom and Dad’s shoes to perform an identical service for our own progeny.

You know, in pondering all of this, I have made a decision. I believe I’ll stop the Snow UGH! thoughts altogether. The next time I am faced with adult, and therefore potentially sobering, thoughts or chores connected to snow, maybe I’ll just deal with them while also thumbing through the Snow YIPPEE memory files in my mind, so I can at least handle them with a smile on my face and a bit of child-like joy in my heart.

 

Dating? What an insane idea for a senior…ahem…I mean MATURE individual to contend with. I truly would have thought that at this stage of my life, the term would no longer even exist in my vocabulary. And as amazed as I am to find it still present, I am seriously considering banishing it once and for all.

And as if dating itself weren’t bad enough, now we have the option of humiliating ourselves in the process ONLINE! It’s true some people think of that as more advantage than disadvantage, but I can tell you from personal experience, that many of those folks are the ones with something to hide. And if the internet is good for nothing else, it can truly hide a multitude of sins.

Take, for instance, the man who lied about his age AND about how long it had been since his wife’s death. Two things not revealed in his profile, aside from the fact that he was a prolific liar, was that he suffered from terminal diarrhea of the mouth and was also one of the world’s worst chauvinist pigs. I’m guessing he assumed (and we all know how well THAT works) that I was some sort of airhead who didn’t know her computer from her curling iron. That was a huge mistake. I checked him out on the internet and guess what I discovered? His wife hadn’t been dead for even 2 months before he was trolling for women on the internet. What a catch!

The salesman I met through one site had the same diarrhea of the mouth problem—he spoke for a solid hour and I swear I never saw him breathe. But at least he didn’t lie about his age, and he wasn’t a widower, so no worries there. Of course, he never called like he said he would (HA!). I guess the kicker for him was that I didn’t immediately jump his bones when he planted the most boring, dry, and unexciting kiss I’ve ever experienced on my lips at the end of the evening. I am still thanking God he didn’t call!

Then there was the man who had that swarthy, dark-eyed, sexy look. The one who described himself as 5’10” tall, with broad shoulders and smoldering brown eyes. Unfortunately, he failed to mention that he was also 5’10” wide and had actually been a mere 30 years old in his profile picture. After meeting for a quick drink after work one day, he was history.

Oh, and let’s not forget the very angry, resentful man who I met for dinner at a local Cracker Barrel restaurant one evening. He was sullen, never made eye contact with me even once, and complained bitterly about his job, my failure to look like my profile picture, his health, his ex-wife, his years in the military, and his life in general. When I suggested, kindly I hope, that negative attitudes can become self-fulfilling prophecies he seemed genuinely stunned that meeting him would generate a thought like that for me. Honestly, that had to be the longest dinner date in my entire 55 years on this planet.

Of course, there were some good experiences as well, but none that resulted in anything long-lasting in terms of a relationship. Many of the men I met were lovely, even if they weren’t my cup of tea. Thinking back over all my experiences, over the past…years, never mind how many, I’d have to say that I no longer view internet dating as a viable alternative for finding a long-term, or even short-term,…ahem…companion. Anymore it’s just an amusing hobby that I engage in from time to time, rarely daring to take it seriously and reinforcing, when I do, that I have been masochistic since birth.


My entry for 1/1/10
 

Down With Air Travel!

You know, if I had my druthers—and I rarely do—I’d push to eliminate most air travel in order to help with the global warming issue. Of course, it’s easy for me to say that. I hate flying—anywhere. It’s something I do only when absolutely necessary, opting for other modes of transportation when they are available. And think of the energy we would save in terms of jet fuel!

Gone would be the thrill of globe hopping from place to place effortlessly and quickly. A safari would have to be something you REALLY wanted to do, since getting to a locale to indulge that I-want-to-go-on-a-safari desire, would probably involve days, if not weeks of travel, traversing the miles by boat, vehicle, on foot, horseback and any number of other modes of transportation to reach your ultimate destination. It would certainly discourage the hop-on-a-plane-on-a-whim crowd. And that would be a good thing.

“But what about business travel?” you ask. Well, in this day of Skype, web cams, and various conferencing/meeting software applications, the need for travel has already been nearly eliminated. And if physical tours of facilities are a part of your reasoning for such travel, live video is always available for such purposes. Think of the money that corporations would save as far as air travel, hotel accommodations, per diem, etc. Lots of companies don’t even go that high tech to accomplish the same end. Telephone conference calls, or people conferencing into a meeting from far away is something routinely done in today’s business world.

I think it quite feasible, not to mention cost-effective, to severely restrict the number of flights available to the public, which will drive the cost upwards, thereby eliminating many people who utilize it solely for the sake of convenience, rather than need. In my mind, real need would be in case of death or family illness or world crisis. Certainly, we should also keep in mind that the world crisis justification would be available only to a select few—not to the masses.

Oh! I just had another thought! What if we took all the jetliners no longer in use and made them into condos, apartments, or even just indoor sleeping accommodations for homeless people? Of course, piggy-backing on that idea, we could also take all of the super SUVs, like Hummers and Escalades, and other large vehicles like RVs, and convert them into housing for the homeless—minus their monster fuel tanks, since doing otherwise would not render them incapable of continuing their own gas-guzzling ways.

Now I’m on a roll! Hangars that once housed the jumbo jets that are no longer utilized for flying, could be called into service as soup kitchens, hotels, and to fulfill a variety of other needs currently not taken care of due to lack of facilities. How about day care centers for poor people who WANT to work? Some of them could even be paid to staff the day care centers! Talk about teaching a man to fish instead of feeding him fish!

So many GREAT ideas! So little time, money, and influence to make them happen. And of course, sitting here locked in this padded room isn’t helping either. If only I hadn’t spoken any of these ideas out loud.

 

Hawk Mountain Bird Sanctuary

Ah……beautiful Kempton, Pennsylvania, my next gorgeous vacation spot. Wait, what? Whaddaya mean, you’ve never heard of it? You must be one of those, “My idea of the great outdoors is enjoying the view out the airtight, hermetically-sealed window of a room perched high within a 5-star hotel, on a tourist-clogged beach, in Miami, Florida.” Well, if you’re one of those, move on, there’s really nothing here for you.

Kempton, Pennsylvania happens to be home to the Hawk Mountain Bird Sanctuary—a refuge for birds of prey. It’s located in Southeast Pennsylvania and was the world’s first refuge established for them. It’s a lovely, unspoiled spot from which to view the migration of majestic, feathered creatures indigenous to our country. Raptors you can view there include various varieties of hawks, eagles, and falcons. I can think of no better place for a bird lover and outdoors aficionado to indulge both passions simultaneously.

Definitely not your usual “tourist trap” for which many people clamor, it’s quite affordable and its trails are open year round. Even during their busiest season, their costliest trail fee is only $7 and, if you forget to bring your binoculars, you can rent some at the Visitor’s Center for only $5. You also have the option of becoming a member of the refuge, in support of the sanctuary and its work. If you elect to do that, there are no trail fees charged to you.

While restrooms and the proverbial gift shop are available within the Visitor’s Center, this is not your typical American entertainment attraction—it doesn’t even boast strategically placed trash cans on the trail—relying instead on the love of each individual for Mother Nature, in all her glory, to pick up after themselves and thereby keep the place as naturally beautiful as it was upon their arrival.

I could go on and on about it, but not knowing which aspect of it would most interest you, my nature-loving readers, I recommend you check it out at: hawkmountain.org   to get all your questions answered.

 

A reindeer just ate my underpants!

“And why were they on the floor?” Mom rants.

I thought they’d be safe there.

Who wants dirty underwear?

If I’d been thinking

About how they’re stinking,

I’d have known for sure,

That would not stop her,

In fact, her interest would be enhanced

To find those odorous underpants

Her palate’s not picky.

To her, they’re not icky.

She sought ‘til she found them,

And gulped them right down, then

She burped quite happily,

And smiled at me sappily.

As if saying to me,

“I ate them with great glee.

They were the best present

That Santa could have sent.

Thank you, my little friend.

I’ll love you to the end.

Just never stop,” she chants,

“Feeding me underpants.

You may not think so

Because they stink so,

But my diet they do enhance--

Those aroma-filled underpants.”

 

Living on a Limited Income

I am an Air Force retiree. Now many people take that to mean that I no longer need to work. Those people would be wrong. While my monthly retirement paycheck does help keep a roof over my head, it is not enough to live on—at least not enough for me to live on.

Do I have debt? You betcha! It’s the American way. But I’m not writing this to abdicate personal responsibility for the financial shape I’m in. No, I’m writing this to expound on the myriad of things that I’ve come up with to stretch my dollars further. It’s absolutely true that “Necessity is the mother of invention.”

A few years ago, I noticed I was having difficulty getting decent-paying permanent work, despite my 30+ years of experience. Hell. Who am I kidding? It might just be that 30+ years experience that keeps me in this position. After all, who wants to hire someone just 10 years or so from permanent retirement? But that’s age discrimination and a whole other subject. I digress.

I completed a degree in psychology in May 2007, knowing that having the degree would make me more marketable to potential employers. So now, here I am, still without permanent employment, only, now, I am saddled with student loans to repay on top of everything else.

I’ve always considered myself to be a very lucky person and, in that, I am pretty consistent. And lately, I have adopted temporary work as my new “career.” Combining my luckiness (is that really a word?) with temping has kept my head above water for nearly 3 years now. How do I do this?—by doing a variety of things.

First of all, when I am working, I do not buy my lunch every day. I prepare my lunch at home and carry it with me to work. This can save anyone a ton of money, provided they are also cost-conscious when deciding what to buy for their lunches. Second, when working in the downtown area, I park at the cheapest parking garage I can find. And, believe it or not, this can save me as much as $45 of my hard-earned cash--WEEKLY. Of course, it generally means that I’ve got to be willing to walk a bit farther to get to my workplace. Convenience and proximity can cost you dearly.

Another thing that saves me tons of money is that I don’t shop as a pastime. When I do buy clothing, I buy classic pieces that won’t go out of fashion within the year. Trendy pieces are for people who don’t have to stretch their dollars. When grocery shopping, I shop with a list of things that I need. This reduces my natural tendency to impulse buy, and it also eliminates the potential for buying things I don’t need since I check my fridge and cupboards while making my list. The very few times I’ve ventured to the grocery sans list have taught me well just how much this mistake can increase my tab at the cashier’s line.

Other general rules I follow when purchasing groceries:

1. Coupons! There is nothing wrong with saving every penny you possibly can by using these handy little slips of paper. But, by the same token, don’t buy something just because you have a coupon for it. Purchases should either be things you would normally buy or things that will substitute for other items you would normally buy but for which you don’t have a coupon.

2. Comparison shopping—especially in stores that offer a store card. Those stores offer some items at lower prices to cardholders.

3. Buying generic. A store brand of all-purpose flour is not going to work/taste any better than a well-known brand—so why not use that to your advantage and go with the store brand? However, be careful with this. You will find that you maintain some brand preferences regarding some products. For instance, I once tried substituting a generic cheese product for Velveeta in my Broccoli Cheese Soup recipe—HUGE mistake! So while there are some things you probably won’t substitute, staples are one place where you can substitute freely without affecting the quality of what you prepare in your own kitchen.

4. Shopping at different stores. This is one that some people cannot take advantage of due to time constraints. Locally, we have a grocery chain named Aldi’s. They have the most rock bottom prices in town! When I do have the time, I will hit Aldi’s to buy things where I don’t have any particular brand loyalties to adhere to. It’s a great place to buy butter, chips, produce, eggs, and staples—all items where brand does not matter to me.

5. Store sales. I pick up a morning newspaper every Sunday for 99 cents. In my locale, this is the place to find store coupons. There is also a free flyer that comes with the mail every Wednesday that also often contains coupons. Just be sure you’re not purchasing things you would not normally buy just because you have a coupon. That just defeats the whole purpose of what you are trying to do.

There are other tricks I’ve used on the home front that help me economize. For instance, I no longer have a home telephone. I am single and live alone, so why do I need a telephone at home when I have a perfectly good cell phone that travels everywhere with me? I don’t. So I had the little bugger disconnected. That saved me at least $30 a month. And I made sure my plan was with the same carrier as most of the rest of my family which means talking to them mobile-to-mobile doesn’t count against my monthly allotted minutes. Right now I’m considering doing a “step-down” in my plan. I’m finding that I don’t use my full allotment of minutes per month, so I can cut my bill buy changing my plan with fewer minutes available per month.

As far as my internet and cable TV service, I get a special rate. And every time the special rate expires and reverts back to normal cost, I call my provider and negotiate it back to where I want it to be. They’d rather have fewer of my monthly dollars than to have none of my monthly dollars. A simple, “I’m currently unemployed” works wonders. And, as a temporary worker, I am frequently unemployed.

I also don’t waste electricity. In addition to racking up a higher monthly bill, unnecessary use of electricity is just not good for the environment. I shut down my computer anytime that I am not actually sitting at the keyboard using it. Doing just this one thing, took my monthly electric bill to the lowest rates I’ve ever seen. I also: unplug things that I don’t use frequently, shut off power strips when items connected to them aren’t in use, re-use plastic bags when packing lunches, only run the dishwasher when it is full, and I use a myriad of other tips/tricks as I discover them.

To save on that liquid gold that runs my vehicle, I combine trips in the car. For instance, I don’t go to the grocery today, then to the drugstore tomorrow, and somewhere else the next day. I “save up” my errands and knock them out in one trip, if possible. I also make sure I am taking the most direct routes to do my errands, further stretching that liquid gold. And if I am running errands on a day when I need gas, while enroute from place to place, I check to see where gas is cheapest and fill up there.

My entertainment tends toward creative rather than costly. I don’t eat out. I don’t go to movie theaters. I simply cannot afford it. Anytime I am tempted to do those things, all I have to do is think about what it will cost me, and that’s enough to dissuade me. That doesn’t mean my life is dull. I invite friends over to play cards or board games. I rarely rent movies. I use the public library instead of buying books to read—this helps reduce the clutter in my house as well. Use your imagination. You’ll be surprised what you can come up with.

Of course, some of the things I do to economize don’t add up to a huge amount of savings but when I combine the savings gleaned from all I do, it definitely adds up. And, let’s face it, who can afford to waste money given the current state of things? I know I can’t and I squirrel that saved money away to help me make it through those periods when temporary work just can’t be found, because that does happen.

 

The Impossible Team

“The Impossible Team” read the sign emblazoned on the side of the white van parked at the curb in front of my house. Puzzled by the presence of the vehicle, I pulled into the driveway and parked beside my wife’s dark blue Taurus.

Entering the house through the front door, I was amazed to find at least 30 strangers, all clad in white coveralls, swarming through every room. Some of them carried clipboards, making copious notes as they strode from room to room. Others carried measuring tapes, measuring not just the dimensions of the rooms, but also sizes of furniture, lengths of drapes, etc. And, given the decibel level of the noise, it seemed as if they were all talking simultaneously.

And there, in the midst of it all, stood my wife directing, correcting, rejecting, and deflecting every move of every single person involved. Her adroit handling of the situation would have put the world’s most adept traffic cop to shame.

As I approached her, to inquire about the strange goings on in our home, she held up her hand, flattened and with the palm directed at my face, saying, “Not now George, I don’t have time.” Stunned by her abrupt dismissal of my presence, I sat on the living room couch, marveling at all the activity taking place before me, impatiently awaiting that moment when these people would vacate the premises and my wife would explain, quite reasonably I’m sure, just what the hell was going on.

And, 30 minutes later, that is just what happened. I was flabbergasted to see, from my vantage point at the front door, all 30-odd people climb into that van as if it were a greyhound bus, roomy enough to accommodate even more if necessary. I was still standing there, my mouth hanging open in astonishment as my wife came up behind me and said, “I guess you’d like to know what’s going on?” I managed to mumble, “Yes, please.” “Well, let’s discuss it over dinner, shall we?” she suggested as she handed me my jacket, picked up her purse and car keys, and shuffled me out the door.

After arriving at our favorite Chinese Buffet-style restaurant, placing our drink order, and heaping our plates full of food, we settled in at the table as my wife began to explain what was going on. She told me that she had arranged for The Impossible Team to re-carpet and paint our entire house, in preparation for the dinner party we were hosting the following evening. “But, but……,” I began to protest. But she cut me off saying, “Yes, I know it’s very short notice, but that’s why they call themselves The Impossible Team. After dinner, we will go to a movie—a double feature—and by the time we return home, they will have completely finished their work.” “But wouldn’t that” I managed to utter before she cut me off again. “Yes, I know it sounds expensive, but it really isn’t considering all the work they’ll do in such a short period of time. They’re only charging us $10 an hour per worker plus cost of materials.” “Wow, that really isn’t bad!” I agreed.

As we dug into our meals, I questioned the wife further about The Impossible Team, having never heard of the company before. “Well,” said my wife, “I found them in the Yellow Pages, and they had the cutest ad. It said, ‘When Muhammad won’t come to the mountain, we’ll take it to him—experts in mountaintop removal. When you lead that horse to water, WE can make him drink.—no job too small.’ “Well, I must admit, it’s pretty catchy, so I can see how taken you were with the thought that we could get so much done in so little time and so inexpensively.” I responded.

On that happy note, we polished off our tasty and terribly unhealthy meals with gusto. After exiting the restaurant, I called the movie theater to find out what was playing and get show times. Since it was a Tuesday night, we were already sure we would not have to fight a large crowd at the theater. And what a relaxing way to spend an evening! Despite a nagging sense of unease about having strangers in my house while I was gone, I managed to enjoy both flicks and finished the second one grazing through a tub of hot, buttered popcorn.

With a moderate amount of trepidation, we walked out to our car to return home and see what The Impossible Team had wrought in our humble abode. Pulling into the driveway, all was quiet and there wasn’t any sign that the team had even been back to perform its duties. With a very uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach, I unlocked the front door and opened it. The transformation was amazing. There was a slight aroma of paint still lingering inside, but nothing was out of place and it was all sparkling clean too.

We walked through every room, astounded at the amount of work they had done in such a short period of time. It was amazing. As we strode back to the kitchen, I noticed a piece of paper lying on the countertop. Picking it up I saw it was their bill. The total cost, given at the bottom, was $10,534! My eyes nearly popping out of my head, I informed my wife of the cost. She snatched the bill from my hand to examine it. The itemized items easily explained the costs. It seems that the crew who initially came to the house was just the "prep" crew of 30 people, who worked for a mere 30 minutes. But the crew who actually did the work was 200-strong and had worked for 3 hours. Materials accounted for the remainder.

So you see, even mountaintop removal might be easily done, but the bill may be more than we really want to pay.
 

It’s Just a Word

So what is all the brouhaha about the term Christmas? It is, after all, just a word. Some people use it, some people don’t. So why all the angst?

The way I see it—and granted not everyone views it the same way—it’s a word used to denote a particular holiday. And things don’t work the same way here as they do in the month of July. After all, it’s much hotter during that time of the year than it is during Christmas season, and many people refer to Independence Day as the 4th of July, but no one twists themselves into pretzels over THAT variation. Come to think of it, I’ve never heard anyone refer to Christmas as the 25th of December, substituting that phrase for the title “Christmas” the way many do with the 4th of July. So, since Christmas has the name Christ contained within it, I think this Christ guy is causing big problems over trivial stuff.

I honestly don’t care what people call it, so long as they don’t forget it’s the time of year when we are supposed to be especially giving and caring towards one another. Some large corporations have even made it policy that their employees NOT say Merry Christmas, instead substituting, Season’s Greetings or Happy Holidays. But don’t get the Christian segment of the population started on that one! For many of them, such a policy constitutes removing Christ from Christmas altogether because, as usual, they forget that not everyone’s religious or spiritual path is rooted in Judeo-Christian beliefs. Where such corporations are concerned, I prefer to believe their policy isn’t intended to take anything away so much as it is intended not to leave anyone out—i.e., those folks who have chosen a path other than the Judeo-Christian one followed by many people in this country.

Personally, when someone greets me—be it with Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, Season’s Greetings, Happy Hanukkah, Joyous Kwanzaa, etc.—I greet them back, without spreading any angst concerning which words they chose to use. Instead, I revel in two things: that it’s that season of the year when we try to show kindness and caring to each other and that I have just encountered an individual who hasn’t forgotten that’s the whole point.

Which greeting do I use? Depends on the circumstances and the person/people I’m addressing. Am I a Christian? Sorry, that’s a story for another time. But all my life, 55 years, it has been Christmas to me so I do still use that term, amongst others. Still foremost in my mind, is the warmth and happiness behind the words, not the words themselves. And I am far too joyful during that particular time period to view much of anything negatively, especially a stranger who would take the time and make the effort to smile and greet me in passing.

You know, on second thought, I think I have this all wrong. It’s not that Christ guy causing all the trouble—it’s the folks in charge of his PR. I really believe he would get a thrill out of seeing people focus on the humanity behind the words rather than the words used to convey it.



 

I am an avid reader—and that is easily the most blatant understatement I’ve ever committed to paper. I have been enthralled with reading since I was in the second grade. Because I read so much, I don’t have just one favorite. I am fiercely loyal to my favorites, of whom there are multiples—and my devotion manifests itself in the periodic re-reading of my favorite books/favorite authors.

Stephen King was probably the first author to whom I bestowed the title of “favorite.” At one point I had every book he had ever had published, including those written under his alternate pen name, Richard Bachman. As I matured, I came to realize that, even with a favorite author, there were likely to be favorite books, and that focusing my attention on those books was not an indicator of disloyalty to the people who wrote them. This realization gave me the courage I needed to whittle down my collection of Stephen King, lest it completely take over my living space. While I have thoroughly enjoyed many of his books, there are a select few that have made my list of those I will re-read periodically. The Stand and Needful Things are the two that are foremost in my mind.

Another favorite is Ayn Rand. I became enamored of her writing when we read Anthem in high school English class. Although I did not re-read it until years later, I did also read The Fountainhead and Atlas Shrugged not long after graduation and have since re-read all three several times. I must admit, however, there is a section that I believe runs about 90 pages, in either Atlas Shrugged or The Fountainhead that I will not re-read. I view it as a sort of oral dissertation. The main character is on a radio program and proceeds to expound on his personal philosophy/ideology, to the point that it just sounds repetitious and dull to me, so I always skip that part now. Still, that doesn’t keep the book from being one of my so called favorites.

J.R.R. Tolkien caught my attention during my early 20s. Upon discovering his work, I hungrily devoured The Hobbit and The Trilogy multiple times, and now I’m thinking that it’s high time I returned to their beguiling pages once more. I love the Middle Earth that he created, along with all the creatures that inhabit it.

J.K. Rowling, for me, is reminiscent of Tolkien, for she too, created a special world of her own and populated it with creatures and beings and happenings that are anything but commonplace. In fact, when I look at her fashioning of her pen name, it makes me wonder if she isn’t also a Tolkien fan, especially when I consider the world she has created within the Harry Potter series. While it might be more magical than that of Tolkien, the two worlds are equally whimsical. So far, I have read the entire Harry Potter series three times.

Finally, as far as I am concerned, no one writes more convincingly of primitive man and his way of life than Jean Auel has in her Earth’s Children Series of books that begins with Clan of the Cave Bear. Few authors impart the depth and richness of detail that I find in Auel’s writing. At this time, the series is incomplete—I and the rest of her fans are eagerly awaiting the next installment and it sounds like it may actually take 2 books to complete the series instead of the one that was anticipated for so long. So far, I have read the series up to its present point three times.

I suppose I could dredge up some other authors to write about, but while I do have others I enjoy, none of them have inspired me, thus far, to re-read their tomes, enjoyable as they were. About the best way for me to be able to narrow the field at all is to include repeated readings as a requirement in order for them to qualify for my list of favorites.

Goodness, I have droned on, and I believe I hear Tolkien softly calling my name—time for a new excursion to Middle Earth.



 

Okay, it’s official. My boyfriend is not only certifiable, he is also, in all likelihood, insanely rich. Word on the street has it that he’s planning to, literally, give me every gift contained in the song, “The Twelve Days of Christmas.” I’m sure you’ve heard it before—the one with all the freaking BIRDS!!! Like I need a bunch of flying shit machines in my house. Have you ever counted the number of feathered creatures in that blasted Christmas carol? There are twenty-three of them!

Considering all those birds, not to mention the various performers that are part of the twelve gifts, I thought it would be interesting to see how much it would cost my big, burly man to fulfill his chosen mission.

I was knee-deep in internet research to come up with the answer, when I stumbled across an article on the Press Democrat website that summed it all up. So I’ve used some of the information from that article, to compare their arrived-at costs for the whole shebang, and to determine, using my crafty cost-cutting strategies, how much I could shave from the final tally. Sadly, I was unable to add any coupon savings to the mix, as there don’t seem to be many well-known retailers for many of the goods and/or services involved. Rather than bore anyone with all the gory details, I’ll give just a few examples of what I found.

According to the article I happened across, the total cost of all gifts in the song would be $21,465 and some change. That represents a 1.8 percent increase over last year’s figure. Of course, that’s based upon a one-time purchase of each stated gift. If you purchased the gifts as many times as they are repeated in the song, the cost rises to $87,402. And, if you make your purchases online the cost rises higher still.* Perhaps it’s worth it to be able to order the gifts in the comfort of your own home, perched on your chair at your faithful keyboard, typing in your underwear.

My own research turned up appreciable savings on some items, but with others, increased my estimated costs exhorbitantly. For instance, the partridges I found for sale online were only $6.50 each, compared to the $10 quoted in the article—a nice bit of savings for that purchase. However, shipping was $1.25 per mile and since that supplier is in South Dakota and I’m in Southern Indiana, shipping hiked the price to roughly $1088.00. So, with most transactions, “Let the buyer beware.” Before ordering any of these exotic gifts online read the fine print, especially regarding shipping costs for live animals.

As far as the pear tree is concerned, the $16.50 online price that I unearthed was considerably better than the $150 quoted in the article. Of course, the one I found was a Dwarf pear tree, but I decided that any partridge of mine could be just as happy with the smaller tree, given our current economic climate.

While I was shocked to discover that swans could run as much as $5,250, I was pleased to find a painting online that depicted seven swans sunning themselves outside their little swan condos, laying in their comfy little swan chaise lounges, for a mere $99 with free shipping!

Labor costs were up pretty much across the board, what with the mandated increase in minimum wage. And dancers seemed to have gotten an even larger pay hike than the other 12 Days of Christmas performers, some as much as 15 percent.

And, finally, with gold prices what they currently are it’s tough to find any good deals on five gold rings, although I did find a gold-filled set for a mere $55 compared to the $500 price tag on the real thing.

Whether you use some savvy saver strategies or not, to provide one with all the gifts described in the song, is a pricey proposition. And, if you stick with tradition and give live animals rather than paintings, figurines, or other renderings of the animals mentioned, you will definitely cause some mental and/or emotional uproar in the recipient’s household—which may cause the early demise of the relationship you have cultivated with him or her.

Personally, having been forewarned of my beloved’s plan, I am changing my name and moving to Tucson.




* Olson, Elizabeth, Swans a bargain, but dancing ladies will cost you. The New York Times. December 25, 2009. Retrieved online at http://www.pressdemocrat.com/article/20091225/BUSINESS/912251073, 12/29/09.

 

Is Christmas Too Commercialized? (entry for 12/23/09)

Is long hair attractive on men? Is a stick-thin model sexy? Is the business world too competitive? I hope you can see where I’m going with this.

The answer to the question posed in my title depends on who you talk to, because it calls for an opinion. And opinions call into the equation the sum total of our past experience, present economic situation, the influence of others important to us, and a host of other factors. So you could easily have a roomful of people where no two of them share the same opinion on such an issue.

I believe it also depends, a great deal, on whether you’re a “glass half empty” or a “glass half full” person, because our general outlook tends to permeate our feelings in many venues and on a variety of topics. Of course, our answers can also differ based on how we interpret the question. Many people might add on to the end of it, i.e., is Christmas too commercialized to still be a strong religious holiday? Additionally, interpretations of the question may also be driven by how we define the term “commercialized.” To some the word might refer to a lack of recognition of the day as a celebration of Jesus’ birth. To others, it could have more to do with too much emphasis on buying and giving gifts.

I don’t believe it is too commercialized, because I tend to focus on everything that’s positive about the season. Just call me Pollyanna. I love to see the generosity of spirit, the good cheer, and the charitable acts that surround us throughout the entire period. But, at the same time, it could be just as easy to point myself toward the opposite end of the spectrum, seeing only the things that are “wrong” with the holidays and the ways that people commemorate them. Plenty of people do just that. In case you couldn’t tell, I’m a “glass half full” person, so that outlook shows up in much of what I say and do.

As with most subjective calls, I can only speak for myself. I think Christmas can be too commercialized, if we allow it to be. But I believe we all have the power within us to decide that, for us, it will not be. And we accomplish that by making sure our own focus and efforts are channeled in the right direction. Of course, that term “right direction” has many different definitions as well. Such is life. Philosophical questions don’t usually have cookie cutter, one-size-fits-all answers.

 

Entry for 12/28/09, Prompt - you have a date with a celebrity, but he/she cancels, what do you do?



My Date With George

Tonight’s the night! My 8th annual New Year's date with George Clooney is approaching rapidly. George and I have enjoyed these dates—hiding our secret relationship from the world’s prying eyes--for the past eight years. And it just gets more exciting with each passing year.

I wonder where he’ll take me tonight. Dancing? A midnight boat ride on the river? A sumptuous, intimate dinner in the penthouse suite of the best hotel in town? Perhaps a private screening of his new film, “Up In The Air?” The possibilities stymie the imagination. Whatever we do and wherever we go, I know it’ll be a night to remember just like the previous ones. And it doesn’t really matter where we go or what we do anyway—just to gaze into his eyes is enough for me.

I’ve just got to decide what to wear—always a chore—especially since I’m never informed, in advance, of our ultimate destination. So I dress in my best holiday finery, all sparkly, both in appearance and demeanor, for whatever the evening has in store for us. And my entire day is jam-packed full right up to the time when he steps up to my front door and rings the bell. The whole day is focused on my plans for this evening: an hour for meditation—it’s essential that I’m completely relaxed; two hours for a manicure and pedicure—important details for that perfect appearance; an hour-and-a-half to have my hair done; one hour for a de-stressing, hot bubble bath; one hour for a light lunch; and one hour for a power nap to ensure I don’t fade too early in the evening—as if anyone really would in the presence of George.

I breeze through most of these preparations, gleefully and giddily, my eyes and thoughts trained on nothing but tonight and the perfect evening we’re sure to spend together. After all, how could it be anything less than perfect when it involves George? Although I am filled with joyful trepidation at seeing the man of my dreams, the pleasures of my preparatory activities are still not lost on me. Yes, the sensuous, soothing touch of the nail technician as he files, buffs, polishes, and massages my arms, legs, hands and feet finishing with a flourish the prettifying process all planned to impress George. Then the relaxing relief as I put myself in the hands of my very competent hair stylist, knowing that once she is finished I’ll have that sexy, tousled, I-didn’t-do-a-thing-to-it look that can take virtually hours to achieve. Dreamily, I shut my eyes and fantasize about the upcoming evening while she works her magic on my manic tresses.

Lazily, on my way back home, I drop in at my favorite lunch spot indulging myself in the feeling that only having someone else prepare and serve you food can generate. How decadent! And, yet, the best part of the day is still hours off! I order my favorite lunch and luxuriate in having my every meal desire completely fulfilled, through no effort of my own, save to lift my hand to my mouth, deposit each morsel, and slowly devour each, savoring the rich flavors of every ingredient contained therein.

Feeling completely spoiled and content with my full and happy tummy, I return home to complete my preparations there. I begin with a nap and, upon waking, I perform my hour’s worth of meditation, my mind steadfastly honed in on the night awaiting me, and then finish with my hot tub soak to ease away even the tiniest remnants of stress or tension. Happily, I apply my make-up, don my sparkling holiday outfit, and stride confidently across my living room as the telephone jangles incessantly. Picking up the receiver, I hear his voice, the one that tells me George won’t be able to make it for our date this evening, just as it has informed me consistently in the past. Thanking that disembodied voice and sighing, I slip out of my too-tight, frivolous FM pumps and stroll into the kitchen ready to open my customary bottle of Asti Spumante to accompany my solo celebration.

Settling down on the couch with my glass of Asti, bottle at the ready for refills, I say a silent toast to George Clooney, who provides me an enticing and exciting excuse for my annual decadent day of indulgence, even if he serves as only a fantasy man. Maybe next year, I’ll eliminate George, and just do it all for me—because I deserve it. I don’t think Dad will miss making that silly phone call.