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 |  Chaos is that voice at the end of the day that says, "Bet you didn't see that coming." |
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** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** "It turns out that an eerie type of chaos can lurk just behind a facade of order - and yet, deep inside the chaos lurks an even eerier type of order" ~Douglas Hostadter I imagine that chaos and order are like those Russian nesting dolls, and they fit together to some infinitesimally minute level at which we must just give up ever grasping what lies at the core. Still . . . if I had to bet, my money would be on chaos. "Our real discoveries come from chaos, from going to the place that looks wrong and stupid and foolish." ~Chuck Palahniuk I know that place well . . . every wrong, stupid, and foolish acre of it! I used to think it was a dead end, or worse, a complete navigational failure, but sometimes that place was exactly were I needed to be. So what does any of this have to do with me, my blog, or the entries that will follow? I don't know, but pull up a chair. I'll invite some chaos, and we'll see what happens. "It's a cruel and random world, but the chaos is all so beautiful." — Hiromu Arakawa |
| I'm not sure when exactly I fell off the exercise wagon, but I did. I think it happened around Thanksgiving. It started with an ear problem that made me feel dizzy and off balance. After that, I blame it on the general busy-ness of the holidays. I finally got back to it tonight. I kept it pretty short, but it got me moving again and that was the whole point. Sometimes it's just a matter of breaking through the inertia. Work will be getting really hectic again soon. I'm sure I'll be bitching about it, but I really don't mind it as much as I pretend to. I like working on the big, intense projects. I like working toward a clear finish point. It is the never ending day to day business I hate because there is never any sense of making headway. No matter what I accomplish today, there will always be more of it tomorrow. It's like doing laundry or washing dishes. There's nothing gratifying about it. There are some interpersonal conflicts happening at work that may become strained to the breaking point in the next few months. Fortunately, I'm not at the center of any of them. I work mostly with women. We have 25 women in the department and only three men. So, I like to periodically point out that murder is the #1 leading cause of work-place deaths for women. For men, accidents are #1 followed by murder. Whenever I point this out at work, everyone gets to looking real thoughtful. Perhaps they're all thinking of ways to make it look like an accident. |
I’m pondering Paige Turner  ’s entry on procrastination, but I’m not sure if I procrastinate because I’m a perfectionist and fear failure or if I procrastinate because I’m insecure and can’t make the decisions needed to chart a course of action. Perhaps the two aren’t mutually exclusive. I think it is a complex and multi-faceted issue. Or I could just be lazy.  The gal who always procrastinates will change her ways at a later date on the brink of defeat with her task incomplete her naval, she’ll cease to contemplate. But would a lazy person go to all the trouble of writing a limerick on the subject? I think not. Certainly a perfectionist wouldn’t post this crap. So, what does that leave? |
Well, I had to make the dreaded return to work today. In truth, it wasn't too terrible. It was actually a productive day. I even managed to take care of some errands over my lunch hour that had been nagging at me. I don't know why I'm such a procrastinator.  Speaking of which, Tony keeps reminding me that I need to call and schedule when I will start my classes at the gym. I need to do that. I've been really lazy about exercise lately and that's never a good thing. Once again though, I tend to procrastinate. I've been studying my square-foot gardening book though and my plans are evolving. I've convinced myself that I need a strawberry patch, an herb garden, and blueberry bushes. The blueberry bushes are currently at my mom's house, but she's been trying to give them to me for several years. They don't fruit well for her because they don't get enough sun. Oh yeah, I also want to grow the smallish icebox watermelons. Tony just shakes his head. It is entirely possible that I will procrastinate too long and the garden ideas will not come together in time for spring planting, but seeing as it's only January, I have plenty of time to worry about that . . . later. |
| Back in the fall I decided that the time had come to scale back my flower beds. They looked like weed patches for most of the summer, and I couldn't muster up the enthusiasm to do anything about it. I still love flowers, I just don't want to spend my evenings and weekends toiling in the garden. Somewhere along the line, I'd lost the enjoyment. So I have plans to entirely eliminate one large island bed in the back yard while pulling back the edges on several other beds and converting to lower maintenance plantings. It will take a lot of work in the spring, but it should be worth it. All fall I've been mentally planning this down-scaling and considering how and where I will move all the perennials and shrubs that are planted in the bed I plan to eliminate. And that just makes it seem all the more absurd that I'm now, once again, contemplating vegetable gardening. Every year I develop this yen to start a vegetable garden. Usually the urge goes away when I start to contemplating how much work would be involved and how difficult it is for me to keep up with the gardens I have. But I've been doing research. I went to the library today and checked out a book on Square-foot gardening. It claims to require much less effort than a traditional vegetable garden. I really want to try it. I just have to figure out where I'm going to put this garden so it won't interfere with my badminton court.  |
| One of my favorite gifts this year was an electric wok. The nonstick coating on my old wok had been flaking off for awhile leading me to question the long term health risks of Teflon-laced stir fry. But, I didn't want to replace my wok with just another pan. I wanted to up-grade to an electric wok. I don't have the pleasure of cooking on a gas range. My stove is electric with a smooth glass top. The burners heat intermittently making it impossible to maintain the high, steady heat needed for a proper stir fry. The electric wok completely solves this. It heats up super quick and the heat control is extremely responsive. On top of all that, the non-stick coating is pristine! So, in spite of all the things I could and should be doing, I'm trolling the internet for wonderful new recipes that I can try in my super wok. Last night I made asparagus with cashews to go with a baked sesame chicken. It was delicious. Seriously, you should try it. http://allrecipes.com/Recipe/Asparagus-and-Cashews/Detail.aspx Does anyone have any wonderful stir fry recipes for me to try? I'm particularly liking the stir fried veggies. I think maybe this year I might have to grow a vegetable garden to keep up with the demand. |
| Snow fell throughout the night gracing the new year with a mantle of white, and the morning dawned bright and pristine. Too pristine. There is something paralyzing about anything that fresh, and new . . . almost as if we need to hold our breaths and savor the unspoiled beauty for as long as it lasts because we know it won't last. It can't. Eventually we have to dig in with our shovels and scoop the snow aside so we can go about our lives. I think that may be the whole point in making resolutions. We make them with good intentions, but the point is to fuck it up. Once you've done that you are free to go about your life. It's like getting that first scratch on a new car. Sure, it sucks, but it's also kind of liberating because you can stop worrying about getting that first scratch. Not that I make resolutions. I set ongoing goals that are revisited and edited as dictated by whimsy or necessity. The quality manager in me says I should write out my goals complete with benchmarks and measurable objectives so I can implement a "Plan, Do, Check, Act" strategy for achieving my goals. When it comes to my life though, I prefer the nebulous sort of goals that are open ended enough that I can never really arrive at failure. In spite of that, I do look back from time to time to see if I'm moving in the right direction. Last year, I wrote this on New Year's Day: 2009 is still shiny and new, and I am feel myself responding to the Siren's song of possibilities. I have curbed my ambition to accommodate the needs of my family and to fit more neatly into the constraining reserves of my time and energy. I do not want to stay the course hoping that fate with intervene and hand me a winning lottery ticket in return for all my noble self-sacrifice. I need to make something different happen. And that is just the sort of ambiguity that allows me to feel like I've really accomplished something!  So what different stuff did I make happen in 2009? I started eating better and that snowballed into learning how to cook more things which snowballed into a willingness to try new and different foods. I took up hiking, and then added running which I actually enjoy and now I'll be adding pole dancing to the fitness repertoire. Before 2010 is out, I'd also like to go to the climbing gym to give that a try. I made myself, my health, and my interests a priority, and I hope that carries on into 2010. In 2009, I also started the ball rolling on Tony joining the Reserves. He had kind of given up on the idea of serving in the military, and was pleasantly surprised when I brought it up. I didn't think he'd pursue the Navy, but there it is. I made the decision to support him and to see where it might take us. Time will tell. So, enjoy 2010 while it still has that new car smell. Hopefully the kids won't puke all over the upholstery anytime soon. |
| The ranks are swelling. I now have five uninvited guests for New Year's Eve. So much for my plans to have a quiet evening watching Netflix movies and catching up on blog reading. I'm not exactly prepared to entertain, but I have enough brown paper bags, and that's what really matters. The New Year's Eve "Wish bag" is a family tradition that started when my daughter was in preschool. Everyone gets a brown paper bag and we decorate them with drawings that represent things we wish for in the coming year. The kids also whisper wishes into their bags. Just before midnight we blow into the bags and twist them tight to hold the air so we can pop them at midnight to release all our hopes and dreams into the new year. In past years, the kids have talked me into letting them add confetti to the bags, but I'm not falling for that again this year. Happy New Year! I hope 2010 will good to all of you.  |
| Once again, my house is the place people end up when all their other New Year's Eve plans fall through. Yep, me and Dick Clark are the New Year's Eve default settings. So, if you happen to find yourself in Northeastern PA on New Year's Eve, just give me a call and invite yourself over. Everyone else does. On the bright side, it'll be the perfect occasion for the new Wii Rock Band game that Zack got for Christmas. On the downside though, I'm going to have to spend my day off tomorrow cleaning the house to get it up to "company" standards. It has gotten pretty messy with various holiday flotsam and with the kids being home on break. I'll also need to call and remind them to bring their own beer. I've got plenty o' booze and three bottles of wine, but I'm currently without beer or bubbly. |
| I gave my husband a selfish gift this year. I gave him a subscription to Netflix along with a handy little device that connects to the TV and allows him to watch Netflix and Amazon Video-on-Demand directly on the TV. Since Tony is technologically dependent, I set up the queues for him. Although I faithfully stacked the queues according to his viewing preferences, I wasn't exclusive about it. I believe there may be a romantic comedy or two in the queue.  So, 2010 will be the year I catch up on all the movies released in the prior decade. A decade I seem to have missed entirely from a cinematic point of view. Upon reflection, I think I only went to the movie theater to see a movie on two occasions over the past ten years, and they were both kiddie movies. I took my son to see Ice Age II the Meltdown and Robots. On the bright side, it is easy to find movies I haven't already seen. Tonight I watched the movie "Outsourced," and was reminded of why I don't watch a lot of movies. Turns out I have the attention span of a gnat . . . with ADHD . . . and a meth habit. I kept forgetting that I was watching a movie, and I would get up continually and wander out of the room to go do something else, to check on something or look for something, and then I'd remember . . . "Oh yeah! I'm supposed to be watching that movie." It might take some getting used to. In any case, I'm not the only to give a selfish gift this Christmas. Tony bought me a 10 class punch card for the "Sensual Fitness" place in town. There classes include belly dancing, hula hooping, strippercize, and of course, pole dancing. So, I'm thinking the gift is also a bit self-serving. |
| My daughter has a streak of pure evil in her, and I have to wonder where it came from. I think I’m going to blame it on my husband. Yesterday, we were all in the kitchen. I was talking to Tony who was fixing himself lunch, and Katie was playing her new SIMS 3 game on the computer. I was telling Tony about the new cookbook I got for Christmas. The cookbook is all about sneaky ways of incorporating vegetables and other healthy stuff into meals and dishes that kids will eat. My mother gave it to me because she worries about my poor malnourished son who simply will not eat a vegetable. Most of the recipes in the book won’t do me any good because they are based on the premise of hiding good stuff in sauces and the boy-child doesn’t eat sauces either. He seems to have come hard-wired with the deep seated fear that someone might try to slip him something healthy and he must guard against the possibility by only eating foods clearly defined foods. I found one recipe that might be able to fly under his radar. It is a brownie recipe, and my kids love brownies (And really, who doesn’t?), but this version calls for the addition of pureed spinach and blueberries. I seriously question whether my kids could be fooled by this. My mistake was having this discussion with my husband while the girl-child was in the room. “Please Mommy! Please don’t mess with our brownies!” “But if it works, you wouldn’t even notice the difference.” “It’s just wrong,” she countered “blending up spinach and blueberries is just gross.” She’s kind of got me there. When the kids were babies, I made Tony feed them those little jars of baby food spinach because they were just a little too gross for me. The spinach reminded me a little too much of my Aunt’s cows chewing their slimy green cud out in the pasture. I don’t know if I could get past the “spinach = cud” gag reflex to actually make this recipe, but let me get back to the main point . . . My daughter is evil. “If you want to blend something,” the evil child said, “Why don’t you try blending mice? I’m sure the cat would appreciate that. It’d be easier than her trying to pick the meat away from the spine. I’m not sure if the tail would blend well though. You might have to cut that part off.” <shudder> “EEEWWWW! That’s just sick.” “It’s not any sicker than tainting my brownies with spinach.” “But you wouldn’t even know it was there!” “And if I used your blender to puree a mouse, you’d never know about it either.” I had to stop to think about that one. I might never be able to drink a breakfast smoothie again. “You use the blender too.” “I know,” she conceded, “So let’s just agree now. You won’t put spinach in my brownies, and I won’t put mice in your blender.” I wonder if Mom still has the receipt for the cookbook. |
| Tomorrow I have to get up and go to work. Fortunately it is only a three day week for me, so I don't have to completely return to normalcy just yet. It will happen soon though, and then we'll fall back into our daily routines. Before that can happen though, we need to spend a week reflecting on the year and the decade that are ending while we contemplate the year ahead. It's been quite a decade really. It seems like just yesterday that we were getting ready to party like it was 1999, and worrying about the potential Y2K crisis. Tony started graduate school in November of 1999, so for us, the decade definitely centered around his efforts to get through school, complete his internship, his dissertation, and pass all the exams needed for graduation and then licensing. All of that is an accomplished fact now. I wonder what accomplishment will define our next ten years. Hopefully, the next 10 will see both kids graduating from high school and going on to college. I doubt I'll still be living in this house 10 years from now. Hell, I never really expected to be here this long. Next month Tony will find out about the Navy, and we'll see where that leads us. For the first time in a long time, I feel like we are gaining some momentum rather than treading water, and I have a cautious optimism about that. We're not just marking time anymore. |
| Today was tech day. I opened up the computer case and cleaned it out well. Connected the new wireless router and reconfigured the network. Because of that, I am once again able to blog to you from my laptop. This is good because my kids have new computer games, and they are happily monopolizing the desktop. This evening, we went down to my in-laws for dinner. It was mostly pleasant, but as with most families, they would make me crazy if I had to spend very much time with them. |
| It's been a long day full of moments of laughter, joy and some exasperation as well. That's to be expected when families gather together, so I pretend I'm a duck and let it roll off my back like water . . . mostly Highlights of the day:  My daughter's squeal of excitement over her stocking. Her eyes seriously lit up. "I got a Doink!" Ha! It's the simple things. (A Doink is a shuttlecock substitute that we use for badminton because it is easier to control.) The sound of Zack running down the hall to the living room at 5 AM, followed shortly by the sound of him running back to his bedroom once he was assured that Santa had come. (Yes, he still believes in Santa - I think.) Watching my 2 1/2 year old niece turning circles in the middle of the floor so she could follow the R/C helicopter my brother was flying around her. Eventually she surprised him by reaching up and snatching it right out of the air. It was a great catch. There were others, and I'm sure I'll get to them eventually, but it has been a long full happy blur of a day, and I'm tired. Tomorrow we'll be going down to my mother-in-laws for a second round of Christmas food and fun. Sometime tomorrow, I also need to figure out how to make all the new tech stuff work! |
| I hope that everyone has a wonderful Christmas. I am looking forward to the day with my typical childlike enthusiasm. I look forward to spending time with my family . . . A lazy, relaxed day of feasting and celebrating. The weather might get a little dicey, and that could be a problem since we are going over to my mothers for the afternoon and dinner. Hopefully the sleet and freezing rain will hold off or fail to show entirely. My mother said we should come prepared to spend the night "just in case." Ha! I love my family, but being stuck at my Mom's with both brothers and their families would send me straight over the edge. We'll avoid that at all costs. My heart is full of good stuff right now and I'm going to try to settle my brain for that long winter's nap. |
| My brother and his family arrived at Mom's earlier today. Zack is spending the night there with his cousins, and I'm taking advantage of his absence to finally get his presents wrapped. I'm kind of struggling to remember where everything is hidden so I can get it all wrapped. Senility is a sad, sad thing. I had every intention of having someone take a picture of me in my new dress so I could post it today, but somehow the day got away from me (as days are apt to do). I will eventually post a picture though, I promise. |
| I'm off work until Monday! I bought a dress tonight. It wasn't my intention to shop for myself, and I have no dress wearing occasion in my immediate future. Truth is, I don't wear dresses much at all and until tonight I didn't even own a dress (I got rid of what I had because they were too big), so, I couldn't resist. It was 90% off (No joke, I paid $8.50) and it was my size and I had to try it on. That was it. I decided to buy it. I brought the dress home and I tried it on to show Tony. Now, have you all seen that commercial where the wife tries on a new dress and suddenly her husband starts talking about cashing in their credit card rewards so he can get airline tickets and whisk her away to Paris because he is so blown away by how beautiful she is in the dress? In real life, that never happens. I'll swear to it. These are the only realistic responses a married man is going to make in regards to his wife's new dress . . . A. Could you move a little? You're blocking the TV. B. How much did that cost? Or, if he really is impressed with the new dress, you might get a highly flattering and romantic suggestion such as . . . C. Nice dress, but it'd look better on the floor. Television! It's all lies!  |
| This is my daughters 15th Christmas. I don't know how or when that occurred to me, but ever since it did, I keep mentally jumping back to my 15th Christmas. That was the year that stood out. All the Christmases before, and all the Christmases after kind of run together in my memory, but I will always remember my 15th Christmas. That was the year my mother was in graduate school enrolled in an accelerated one year master's program in social work. That's not what made it memorable though. It was memorable because she was undergoing radiation treatment for breast cancer. She was only about 3 or 4 years older than I am now when she noticed a lump. Back then, I believe the recommendations for mammograms was to begin them at age 50. Mom had never had one prior to the lump. Now, her very first mammogram was showing something that appeared to be a cyst, but a strange one. The doctor wasn't convinced a biopsy was necessary and offered to simply aspirate the cyst. My mother had a "bad feeling" though and decided to have a biopsy. The biopsy revealed a very small tumor encapsulated within the cyst. It was an extremely aggressive form of cancer. If it had not been inside a cyst, it very easily could have become a stage IV cancer before it was detectable on exam, but it was found in the earliest stages, and it was not in the lymph nodes. My mother opted for a partial lumpectomy and radiation as her course of treatment. So, in addition to commuting an hour into Baltimore three days a week for school, she had to drive an hour in the opposite direction to get her radiation treatments in DC. Needless to say, she wasn't bringing a lot of physical or emotional energy into the holiday season that year. I'd like to paint some wonderful picture of myself rising to new levels of maturity and selflessness, and there was probably some of that happening, but mostly I was a pissy, resentful teen. Mostly I resented my brothers and my father for going about there lives so unaffectedly. My oldest brother was home from college on break and in typical fashion came home with loads of dirty laundry and the expectation that he'd been busting his ass all semester and no one should ask anything of him for at least the next few weeks. My other brother was a junior in high school with a car and a job and huge sense of entitlement. He continued to come and go and do what he pleased. Being the only other female in the house I had been pressed into service providing the world's crappiest ever homemaker/chore service. The only thing that sucked worse than housekeeping was my attitude. When my mother finished her exams at the end of the semester, she was finally ready to think about Christmas, but she was seriously overwhelmed. My mother is and has always been a Christmas nut. She is the sort who puts up not one, but two Christmas trees (3 if you count the one out on the front porch) along with the whole Snow Village set up and wreaths and garlands and all the rest. She loves it all. So back in 1986, as my 15th Christmas approached, Mom was kind of depressed and very frustrated, and at some point I finally got it in my head to cowgirl up. I did a lot of things that year that I'd previously taken for granted. After I dropped the resentment, I even enjoyed myself as I baked and wrapped, and decorated. I recruited help for the decorating. My best friend at the time was Jewish, and she had always harbored a secret desire to decorate a Christmas tree.  The two of us ended up having a grand time lighting and decorating the tree that year. Then, we turned our attention to cookies. We made dozens and dozens of cookies in shapes of stars, bells, angels, and gingerbread men. My oldest brother stepped up to help decorate the cookies. He's always been the artistic one in the family. Artistic . . . yet depraved. The angels ended up with big botoxed lips curving up in a suggestive smile with an equally suggestive message of "Hey there big boy!" piped beneath the frosting pasties. The gingerbread men wore g-strings. The stars and bells said "Eat Me." It was some of the most fun I ever had making Christmas cookies. Christmas Eve finally came around, and traditionally we've always opened gifts from our out-of-town relatives on Christmas Eve after dinner. Well Mom had a surprise for us that year. It turns out, the only thing she really wanted that year for Christmas was a kitchen floor so clean you could eat off of it. She told us this after dinner as she pulled out the big bucket and set it ominously in the sink. Before any presents were going to be opened that Christmas, my brothers and I would need to scrub the kitchen floor. Since my mother never believed in the adequacy of mops for such a task, we spent the next half hour on our knees scouring the floor, wiping down the baseboards and paying particular attention to the corners. And really, with the three of us all working together, it went pretty quickly. I don't know what I got for Christmas that year nor does it matter. That Christmas was all about learning - very gradually - to appreciate all the stuff my Mom did for us. |
| My wrist is recovering nicely and I'm able to type tonight without a splint, and with very little discomfort. I'll keep exercising the wrist, wearing the splint at night, and taking anti-inflammatory meds for a few more days just to make sure the tendinitis is fully resolved. So my wrist isn't the problem. It's my brain. I can't seem to keep my thoughts focused long enough to write anything and I'm about ready to abandon this whole daily blogging exercise. If not for the stubborn Taurus side of me, I probably wouldn't have lasted this long. |
| Every now and then, a snow storm arrives exactly on-time. For the past two days the meteorologists have been abuzz about the winter storm system preparing to slam the east coast. The snow fall totals were kind of up in the air, but the time frame was remarkably consist. The snow was expected to start at 1PM. So, instead of bagging all the usual errands and staying home, I, along with everyone else in the county, decided to play a super fun round of beat-the-clock . . . Holiday Edition! I made the requisite run to the grocery store. It was impossible so bad in the store that you couldn't navigate from one aisle to the next at the front end of the store because the lines for the registers completely obstructed any and all movement. No one in line would budge for anyone lest they try to cut in line. While I was in the store, they made announce over the PA asking someone to "Please report to the courtesy cage." This struck me as funny. Some stores have a courtesy desk, but my store has a "courtesy cage." Yes, they strive to offer excellent customer service from the security of a triple locked, reinforced steel enclosure. I think the "courtesy cage" could be used more effectively to enhance my shopping experience if they'd lock up fellow shoppers who showed themselves to be discourteous. Like a penalty box. They can come out when they learn to conduct themselves in a more courteous manner. At 1 PM the snow started to fall. It is beautiful and peaceful. Tony was planning to go to Maryland tomorrow to teach a seminar, but it's been canceled and I'm more than a little happy about that. Let it snow . . . Let it snow . . . Let it snow . . . |
Tonight I am tired and crabby and in pain. My wrist is very sore and typing makes it even worse. So I'm going the copy and paste route. Forgive me if you've heard this one before, but this is one of my all time favorite Christmas anecdotes, and it's the best I can do tonight.  I don't know how I get sucked into these conversations . . . “It’s like last year when I went to St. Matt’s to get straw from the manger . . .” she said twirling a dark curl around her finger. “Excuse me?” “Christmas is a Christian holiday. It is supposed to be the season of giving. Peace on earth, good will towards man, right?” “Yeah . . .” “Well last year I went over to St. Matt’s after Christmas. I wanted to be there when they took down the nativity so I could some of the straw from the manger.” What the hell do I know? I’ve been a non-practicing Catholic for a lot more years than I spent as a practicing Catholic. Still I know that Saint Mattew’s sets up a large nativity scene on the church lawn each December. They stop short of live animals, but only just. Being the gardener that I am, my first thought was that she wanted the straw to for mulching or composting. Like I said . . . What the hell do I know? “So what happened?” I asked. “Well a fight almost broke out!” “Over straw?” “Yes! I just wanted one piece of it, but all the blue-haired biddies were there and they wanted the straw to give to there Grandchildren and they started pushing and shoving.” “Over straw?” I was flabbergasted “Yeah, can you believe it? And right there in front of the Baby Jesus too!” “Why the hell was everyone after the straw?” “Oh! Don’t you know?” “No.” Hence the question. “Oh, well it’s an old superstition. If you take a piece of straw from the manger and put it in your wallet, then your wallet will never be empty in the coming year.” “Because it has straw in it?” “No! Because it'll have money in it.” Ah Ha! Magic straw! “So you all were fighting over straw because you want money” “Yeah." "In front of the Baby Jesus?" "Yeah, I could hardly get even one piece though. Those church women are vicious.” I think they were all over due for some smiting. |
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