Politics as blood sport Part 2

Okay, I am back. I know I said one day and it was four but you should know by now that I sometimes have time warp issues...

Anyway...on to the Occupy movement or OWS as it's being called now. Even though Occupy Wall Street has branched out in to many cities and even other countries so I don't think the Wall Street part of the name really holds much sway anymore. And that brings us to my take on the whole OWS situation.

I believe that what you say about the movement says so much more about you than the movement itself.  Especially at the beginning when it was first starting to take shape I saw a lot of posts about it and what people thought. It was really interesting. I have a varied friend base politically. I have friends on the far right and far left and every where in between. And the posts have been pretty reflective of their politics. The far far left see it as a referendum on oppression and corruption and police brutality and sliding into a system where the sheeple all fall in line waiting to be slaughtered. The far right see it as a referendum on a younger generation who aren't willing to work for what they want and hate capitalism and think rules don't apply to them and the sheeple all want everything handed to them on a silver platter and besides that they smell bad. The responses from the middle seem to fall along the....well this is interesting, lets see how it goes peppered with a healthy dose of  permits would be nice, don't block the roads and from me at least...a posting on how much I hate the word sheeple. Seriously, is there a more condescending choice of terms to make? The implication that those that disagree with you only do so because they are incapable of thinking for themselves is so insulting.

And why is it that we are all painting our own  take on the OWS movements? Well I think it's because they don't really know exactly what it is they are protesting. Or maybe they are protesting so many things that it's easy to put whatever face you want on it. If they would pick one message and get behind that I think it would be easier for everyone to understand. But since it's such a varied group of people protesting you aren't seeing that. Some people are there because of the economy, the 99% crowd, some are there because they want an end to the wars, some are there because they want the drug policies addressed, some are there because they love a good protest, and some are there because it's a place to cause trouble and have a crowd to hide in to get away with it.

For the 99% crowd, I am there with you. Not there, camping out, because I don't camp for fun let alone for protest. But I understand the feeling that the system is rigged and people are struggling to succeed in a place that makes it extremely difficult to happen. But you aren't making your voice clearly heard as to why you are so upset. Screw Wall Street might be fun to chant but it doesn't really get the message out. This article was really well done, charts and graphs and everything. It really solidifies that vague feeling of something isn't right with THIS is what isn't right!

For me when the President announced that the reason no one has gone to jail for the entire housing, investing, Wall Street tank our economy mess that we all lived with, dealt with, bailed banks out for, yet still saw no real fix for the majority of the country is because nothing that happened was illegal I was appalled. When I first heard Elizabeth Warren explain what happened and how it happened all I could think was this is fraud. And if it was fraud and it wasn't illegal what in the hell is wrong? And do we really need LESS regulation then if this was okay? I just don't get that. So there is a part of me that says, yeah, 99% I am there with you! There are different rules for some of us than there are for others.

But then on the other hand you get the idiots. When OWS came to Portland they were interviewing someone on the local news about it and how they weren't getting permits or letting the police and city officials know where there were going because you shouldn't make your oppressors comfortable. I said it at the time and I will say it again, you aren't oppressed. Not in any sort of drastic way. Yes, I am there that there is something wrong with our balance in this country, but the fact that you are able to protest without a permit without being hauled straight off to jail says more about what is right than what is wrong. We had 8 arrests the other morning because after two days of protesters blocking a road downtown the mayor finally had enough and opened it again. Two days.  I'm sorry but you aren't oppressed. You are unhappy, there is a difference.

Maybe it's because of where I live and we have a lot of practice protesting here that things haven't been as violent as other reports. Maybe it's because our media is focusing more on the bigger picture where national media only hits the highlights and violent uprising is more exciting of a news clip than showing a group getting together and voting on where they march next. I am not sure, but it seems like our OWS group is a little more well behaved. Which gives me a lot of hope for this country. A police car was vandalized downtown with permanent marker and the Portland OWS talked it out and paid for the damage. When the Portland Marathon hit town two weekends ago the staging area (that they had reserved legally and with all proper permits) was where the Occupy people were. It looked a little tense at first with a lot of speculation...but the OWS group cleared the majority of the protesters out of the area for the day and didn't return until after the marathon was over. Those that stayed were in an area away from the activity and volunteered to help out with the event. That to me says more about what we can get done in this country when adults get together and have a rational discussion than anything I have seen out of Washington lately.

And maybe that's the take I want to put on the OWS movement. I am not in favor of screwing with people who are trying to get to and from their jobs or houses or just move around where they need to be so stay out of the roads please and thank you. I am not in favor of screaming random slogans without any sort of real idea as to what next, what do you want to do to fix it? I am not in favor of people dismissing the OWS group who embraced the Tea Party movement just because OWS camp out and Tea Party shouted down and then went home. But I am all in favor of people being able to say you know what isn't right? This...and then pointing it out so we get a chance to say yes or no. I agree with that or I don't. I am completely in favor of a variety of people getting together and talking things out and making decisions that are fair and reasonable even if you do smell a little from camping out for two weeks.

So do you agree with me that what you see when you look at OWS means more about who you are than who they are? Or are you part of the sheeple that can only form an opinion if it's spoon fed to you by your political party/news cast/guru/favorite blogger? Yeah...nope...it's even a disgusting term if I use it...



 

Politics as blood sport....

As you all know my political leanings are left. I am a proud liberal and progressive. I don't think those are bad words. Progress is a good thing. Staying in one spot is not great for people or a country. And our's has not stayed in one spot in its entire history. We started progressive and have been that way all along. The Constitution of the United States of America was a pretty radical document when it came to be. And just for the record, for any Tea Party people screaming about the Constitution and taxes, it was written in most part because we were broke and the Articles of Confederation didn't have a real way for the national government to get us out of it. So every time I hear one of you yell about what the founding fathers would do I kind of giggle to myself...well we know what they would do, the would figure out a way to get money and get it.  Which they did. Behind closed doors. Read about it, the writing and the ratification process is very interesting.

So all of that being said when I espouse a belief you all know where it's coming from. I am left. But I am not a democrat. I'm not a republican either, obviously. But I don't believe that corporations are evil. I don't think the man is out to get us. I see nothing wrong with knowing how you are going to pay for something before you pass it into law. I had the basic Tea Party views before they became a party. And I might have stood with them more if they hadn't gone off on an "anti" tangent. I'm not anti, I'm pro. I voted for Obama in the last election but he wasn't my first choice. But being an independent I couldn't vote until the main election so I was choosing between Obama/Biden and McCain/Palin. If John McCain circa 2000 had been running with a different running mate I would have voted for him. Obama doesn't have a lock on my vote in 2012 either, we will see who he is running against.

So why am I reiterating my political stance for you all? Because I want to talk about two of the bigger political stories from the past few weeks. The Occupy movement and...no not the Republican Debates or Chris Christie not running or Sarah Palin grabbing a spotlight and shining it on her again, think bigger...yep, Hank Williams, Jr. and his feud with Fox and Friends and ESPN. For those of you that were living under a rock, Hank made an analogy that compared Boehner and Obama playing golf to Hitler and Netanyahu doing the same. ESPN took offense to it and pulled his song from Monday Night football which then made him scream about his first amendment rights being violated. There was a lot of buzz about comparing the President to Hitler and now he has added a  verse to his newest release calling out Fox and Friends and ESPN for the whole deal.

Oh where to start on this one....First off let me go ahead and post the transcript so you can see what it is I am talking about here:

HANK WILLIAMS, JR., ENTERTAINER: Do you remember the golf game they had, ladies and gentlemen? Remember the golf game?

STEVE DOOCY, CO-HOST: Yeah, Boehner.

WILLIAMS: That was one of the biggest political mistakes ever.

DOOCY: Why?

WILLIAMS: That turned a lot of people off. You know, watching -- you know, it just didn't go over.

GRETCHEN CARLSON, CO-HOST: You mean when John Boehner played golf with President Obama?

WILLIAMS: Oh, yeah! Yeah. And Biden and Kasich, yeah. Uh-huh.

CARLSON: What did you not like about it? It seems to be a really pivotal moment for you.

WILLIAMS: Come on. Come on. That'd be like Hitler playing golf with Netanyahu, OK?

BRIAN KILMEADE, CO-HOST: Yeah, I don't understand that analogy, actually.

DOOCY: Well, it's...

WILLIAMS: Well, I'm glad that you don't brother, because a lot of people do. You know, they're the enemy. They're the enemy.

KILMEADE: Who is the enemy?

WILLIAMS: Obama! And Biden! Are you kidding? The three stooges.

So technically when I look at this Bocephus didn't compare Obama to Hitler, he either compared Boehner to Hitler or Biden to Hitler. Depends on which coupling you took for Hitler and Netanyahu. But that's a bit nit picky since he clarified pretty quickly that Obama and Biden are the enemy. And apparently count as three people. The enemy? Really? Okay, that's a different perspective to take. I would say they are not your political party, but enemy? Hmmm... Now on to ESPN and deciding not to use the song (though he says HE left them, they didn't leave him) and first amendment rights. I've made this point before, and I am sure I will make it again, freedom of speech is not the same as freedom from repercussions. You get to say what you want without the fear of the military police showing up at your door with a jail sentence or a bullet to your head in your future. That's freedom of speech. Yes, Jr., you had every right to say what you said, but talk to The Dixie Chicks about what happens when you let your politics get a little bit too loud. Or, oh wait, were you okay with country music turning their backs on them? Freedom of Speech does not equal Freedom from Repercussions.

So now he has released his new song "Keep the Change" and he's added a verse to the end. Just in case you were confused when he trots out United Socialist States of America he wants to make it clear where he stands. But before I talk about his extra verse I do want to address the Socialist thing again. As you all know I've trotted this one out before as well. Wanting people to pay taxes doesn't make you a socialist. Disagreeing with a political opinion doesn't make them a socialist any more than disagreeing with yours makes them fascists. Though I can see how Hank might be a little worried about socialism, since one of the prevailing theories is that each will get their share from society in direct proportion to the percentage they contribute (there are a lot of different types of socialism, by the way, something he would know if he knew what a real socialist was). Not saying that the Monday Night Football theme wasn't a fun contribution, but maybe he has received a little more compensation for that then it was really worth...

Okay so now let's look at his extra verse:

So FOX and friends
Wanna put me down
Ask for my opinions
Then twist it all around
Supposed to be talkin' about my father's new CD
Well two can play that "Gotcha' Game" just wait and see
Don't tread on me

and then he ends the song like this:

Yeah, you can keep FOX and friends and ESPN outta your homes too
Cuz Bocephus and all his rowdy friends and his song is outta there!

So he thinks Fox and Friends twisted his words with some sort of gotcha game? Sorry, they didn't. You said what you said, they just aired it. Twisting your words would have gone something like this:

WILLIAMS: With the economy in the state it's in, seeing them all playing golf together it was as if they were completely  indifferent to the large numbers of people who are unemployed.

BRIAN KILMEADE, CO-HOST: Sort of like Nero fiddling while Rome burned?

CARLSON: Oh, another  leader who passed the buck like that was Pontius Pilot washing his hands of responsibility when Christ was crucified. 

KILMEADE: Oh, yes, those were bad things, right Hank?

WILLIAMS: Ummm...yeah...
(after the break)

DOOCY:  For those of you that missed it we just had Hank Williams, Jr. on who stated that he felt like Obama is passing the buck on responsibility for  Christians being burned.

Now that would be world class word twisting on Fox level...but alas, Mr. Williams, that's not what they did. You might not have meant to draw a comparison between our sitting president and Hitler but you did. You might not have meant that the president and vice president are our enemies but that's what you said. As for calling on your fans to not watch ESPN because you don't like what they did to you...well...good luck with that one. Because no matter who sings or doesn't sing Monday Night Football is on TV.

Okay, well, I've gone super long so I will leave Occupy until tomorrow. But I do want to leave with one last thought, you know who was like Hitler? Hitler.

But does it fit?

Just a warning to my son, this blog is all about body issues, clothing, figures and such things.  You might want to skip it.

Okay, so that's out of the way.  I hate to shop.  Or I guess to be fair, I hate to clothes shop. It is one of my least favorite things to do. Part of it is I am cheap and clothes are not.  But the main reason is nothing ever fits right.  So shopping is a chore.  But a necessary one.  I realized this past summer that I never really replaced my old clothes with new ones as I lost weight.  Or at least with anything more than t-shirts and some casual sweaters.  Basically just enough to get by but not enough to really have any sort of variety.  And definitely no grown up clothes.

I talked about having to buy a dress for my father's funeral because I didn't own one, but this was reaching even worse than that stages.  A wardrobe that had once been filled with slick skirts and suits and dress pants had morphed into a closet full of jeans and t-shirts that had seen better days.  Now I could justify these choices when I was doing more massage.  T-shirts and yoga pants or jeans were my uniform.  But as I have gone farther and farther away from massage I haven't updated my choices.  Part of it is that feeling of why bother?  I am writing for part of the day, cleaning house for part of the day and running errands for part of the day, what does it matter?  And the best answer I have for that is I am vain.  I like to look good.  I like to know that I am looking my best when I leave the house, or when I am home for that matter. So it was time to upgrade. Not going back up to the level I needed to dress when I was dealing with clients and meetings during the day, but a few steps up from schlub were needed.

So on to shopping.  I told Brent I wanted to update the choices with some more grown up clothes.  He was all for it, he has been suggesting I go shopping for awhile.  Though I hadn't said anything I think the standing in front of the closet frowning was a pretty good giveaway that I wasn't happy with what I saw in there.  So shopping we went.  Did I mention how much I hate shopping?  It is one of the times in my life where I can go from happy and loving life to questioning the very existence of mankind in the time it takes to try on three or four items.  I cannot even imagine the level of preparation Brent has to make if he knows I am going to go clothes shopping.  The mood swings in one store alone could flattened someone who wasn't ready!

So why is it so traumatic?  Because finding something that fits is always a chore.  You see the outfit on the mannequin and it looks great, until you look closer and see they have the clothes pinned and tucked into a silhouette that is not at all how the clothes are actually cut.  And here is the part of the blog where I am going to rant about clothing and marketing and sizes.  I am curvy.  There were no straight lines used when I was designed.  Not in the way I think or act or the way I look.  Okay, I am exaggerating, my hair and teeth are straight, but other than that I am a series of curves all hooked together.  Over the years though curvy has been co-opted by marketing people to mean heavy.  If you are looking through a fashion magazine and see the headline, "Dress for your body type!" you can almost guarantee there will be the following body types, straight, apple, pear and curvy.  But curvy is not what curvy used to be,  it's what used to be referred to as full figured.  I guess they think heavy people caught on to full figured meaning heavy so they needed to come up with something else and decided on curvy.  Let me let you in on a little secret, when I was heavy I knew I was heavy and calling myself full figured or curvy didn't change that.

So anyway, if I find something that fits in the chest it is too big through the shoulders and the waist.  If I find a a pair of pants that fit the hips and butt they gap at the waist. If I find something that fits the shoulders I can't smoosh my chest into it.  If I hold it up to my waist and it's the right size the odds of me being able to ease it over my hips to get there are slim to none.  And this doesn't change when I am a size 4 or a size 16 which I have been both and everything in between.  When I lost weight a few years ago and then kept on losing weight to the point where friends started saying things like, "You're done right?  You're not losing anymore?" instead "Hey!  You look great!" I thought I was going to fit everything.  I thought now is my time to be able to just pick things up off the rack and BOOM!  insta fit!  Nope, not even then.  And now that I have put back on enough weight that I am back to "Oh my gosh, you look great!  You had gotten way too thin last time I saw you!" forget about getting most things to fit.

Thinking about this blog this morning as I was getting dressed I decided to take my measurements.  My hips are 3 inches bigger than my bust and my waist is 10 1/2 inches smaller than my bust.  So you see the problem?  I am about as balanced top and bottom as I can be.  I always say that my big butt doesn't bother me because it keeps me from face planting due to my chest.  I am an hourglass.  And clothes are not made for me.  If I wear a wrap dress or belt up whatever I am wearing I can fake it, but to pull something off a rack that is designed for me isn't going to happen.  Now don't get me wrong, I love being va-va-voomy.  It's taken me a few years to get to the point where I truly appreciate my figure, but I am there.  I just wish that there were those out there designing for me.  I am not the only hourglass in the world, and with the preponderance of breast implants out there I am not the only woman in the world whose back are shoulders and narrower than her chest.

Enter Levi's.  I have been seeing the advertising for months for their Curve collection.  Now Levi's and I go way back.  In high school I used to wear men's 501s. Because they were designed to sit a little lower I could get a pair that didn't gap so drastically in the back and still fit my butt.  Yes, I was built this way in high school as well.  And let me tell you guys, don't ever say to a young girl, "They didn't make girls like you when I was in school." you might think you are being flattering but you are being creepy  And they did, they just didn't date guys like you.  Any way back to Levi's...A few years ago they released a  line that they called "curvy"  it was cut a little fuller through the hip and thigh and the waist came up a bit higher in the back than the front.  This kept me covered when I sat down, loved them.  So when they came up with this new line I was dying to try them out and finally they were in the stores.  Or at least 3 out of the 4 selections were.  I tried on the demi curve and the bold curve styles.  The demi made my butt look fabulous with a minimum of gap at the waist.  Any woman with a more substantial rear end will tell you that getting a pair of jeans that doesn't smash and spread your butt halfway down your thighs is a great thing!  Then I tried on the bold curve.  I have never ever put on a pair of jeans that fit me better in the waist.  No gap, no space, no muffin top, nothing but a wonderful fit.  Then I turned around to check out the rear-view....EEP!  I looked like I had a shelf back there!  Umm...nope...not ready to embrace the rear that much!  Going on line and putting in my sizes their website actually suggested the Supreme curve for me...we will see if I try that or not.

But here is my point, Levi's gets it.  Curvy means something more than just being heavier than everyone else.  Women have curves and by having a variety of curve levels in their jeans to choose from you can pick the one that fits your particular set.  Me, I am a bold masquerading as a demi today.  But by having these different cuts in different sizes if you are a size 16 with a flat bottom you can get the slight curve jeans and they will fit as nicely as my size 8 with a bubble butt did!  Can we get more designers to do this?  To give us the options of fit styles?  And please, can we go back to curvy meaning hourglass?

Because I still need to buy some more clothes to round out my wardrobe and I would like them to fit my rounded out figure....

Scary stories

This is a Facebook story in a round about way. It's going to take a bit to get there though, so just sit back and enjoy the ride.

I discovered when I was in my early teen years that I am not exactly the person you want to have with you in a scary situation. I think I have told this story before so if you are familiar with it you can skip ahead to the next section. Anyway...my best friend and I were around 12 or 13 and were watching Halloween at her house while her mother was out on a date. We were discussing just how stupid the people in scary movies were. How they would just stand and scream as the bad guy closed in on them and how we would NEVER just stand there. We would run, or fight, or beat the bad guy with a bat, something...because we were just that tough...and then Chrystal started to scream. I looked over to where she was staring and there was a face in the window next to the front door and the door handle was turning! So I, of course, leaped into action, dialing 911 with one hand while preparing to beat the bad guy with a bat with the other....it was either that or I started screaming as well. Finally Chrystal was able to move but unfortunately it was only enough to tip the chair she was sitting in backwards so she was lying on the ground screaming while I was stuck in my chair screaming. That's when her mother and her mother's date came in the house laughing their asses off at us...yeah....not so tough after all.

So I filed that away in my brain and knew that if I was ever in a situation like that again I needed to MOVE not just sit and scream. Somewhere in the back of my head I am still afraid that if I was presented with what I could only assume was a butcher knife wielding crazed murderer I would do nothing more than sit and scream. But at least I wouldn't tip over in my chair...

Fast forward to me at 16. A girlfriend and I had gone to grab dinner out at Fat Humphrey's, a wonderful sub shop in Albuquerque at the time. We were sitting at a table in front of a window that faced the parking lot. It was Fall or Winter because it was dark outside already while we ate. So anyway, while we were eating someone pulled into the space that was facing our table and after a few minutes turned their brights on. Now this meant they could see us and bug us but the light was too bright for us to be able to see who was in the truck. Being the sweet and lovely young thing I was at 16 I raised my left hand and let them know I needed one more minute to finish my sub. I am sure that's why I raised my middle finger anyway....so the lights go on and off a few times. Basically as soon as our eyes would adjust again from them being off they would flip on again. If my memory serves me correctly at one point after a few rounds of lights on lights off I turn to the window and clearly enunciated "Please stop that" though you know how tricky lip reading could be and it might have looked like "Fuck off" to the people in the truck.

Amy and I decided to just turn our backs to the window and finish our dinner. The truck people eventually got bored of getting no reaction and pulled out and left. We sat for a bit longer talking and finishing up and then headed out ourselves. As I opened the door to my lovely Vega station wagon and was getting in from the far corner of the parking lot we heard an engine turn over and the lights on a big truck turned on. Uh oh...okay, so maybe they didn't give up and go away. At 16 I was not one to show fear or back down but there was a definite moment of "oh shit" that happened right then. But we decided that maybe it wasn't that big of a deal until we pulled out of the parking lot and the truck followed us. 

We did a little random turning and the truck stayed on our tail so we knew at that point we were being followed and we were probably in trouble. Amy, bless her heart, had every faith in me to figure out how to get us out of this mess. Being at least some what intelligent I knew better than to drive to my house or hers, if we were being followed we didn't want them to know where we lived. So I ended up just driving. I drove to my parent's best friend's neighborhood. They had lived there since I was very young and I knew it as well as anyplace in Albuquerque. I got far enough ahead of the truck that I was able to duck into the back  parking lot of the catholic church and get my lights off before they pulled around the corner. It was at this point that we discovered they had installed a fence at one end of what used to be a pull through lot so now if the truck came in behind us we were stuck. Behind the church, in the dark, with no lights or houses.  

Years later watching an episode of Oprah (before the great Oprah renouncing of 06) I saw a safety expert who talked about what to do if you thought you were being followed. First rule, don't go home. Yay! I was a genius! Second rule, go to a police station. Oh...well that would have made sense but I didn't know where one was so I was off the hook. Third rule, if you don't know where a police station is go to someplace with crowds, a movie theater, a supermarket, a gas station. What ever you do, do not go someplace you would be alone. Oh well...okay. Yeah, NOW you tell me! Of course I had figured out the alone part while Amy and I sat in the dark in the car holding our breath every time we saw the truck drive past the church. Just waiting for who ever was driving to realize we must have ducked in back....

But they never did and eventually they gave up and left. Amy and I went to her house and broke down in nervous giggles and relived the whole thing again with what each of us was thinking during the whole thing. Mostly a lot of oh craps....It was seriously one of the scariest moments of my life. I had thought that my smart mouth and bad choice had put Amy and I in serious danger. Seeing that fence blocking what I knew was my only way out of that parking lot almost made me physically ill. 

A few weeks later I ran into a friend of mine in the hallway at school. He asked me if I had been chased by a big truck lately. Turns out it was a mutual friend of ours in that truck. He had recognized me in the window and was just messing with me.

Now you are asking yourself what does this have to do with Facebook? Well the guy that was driving the truck in the story sent me a friend request a few weeks ago. I accepted though I literally have not spoken to him since even before the truck incident. I was trying to decide if I tell him he gave me the scariest night of my teen life, which is saying a lot considering some of the shenanigans we got up to in those days, or if I should just let it go. So I did what I usually do and wrote about it. Now you can share in the bravery that was my teen life...or stupidity. Definitely one of those two....

Time to get creative

When I was first working this blog through in my head I had started it out by saying how I had been lucky to be around very creative people due to my time in advertising. Then I started thinking about it some more and realized that I have always been attracted to creative people. My closest friends in high school were all either musicians, singers, actors, writers or a blending of talents. I am not sure if it's just that most people in the world have some sort of talent or if it's that people who are creative always have a more interesting way of viewing the world that attracts me or if it's just a random coincidence. Things to think about for later.

So anyway as an adult I find that most of the people in my life are creative. They sing, they play an instrument, they paint, they cook, they knit, they write, they design jewelry, they tell jokes, they act, they are photographers. The list goes on and on. Sometimes it's shocking to me how many people in my life are this way.Especially when you start your friendship having no idea they are creative and then find out that they are not only creative in one area but in numerous areas!

My friend Stephanie is one of these multi-talented people. I met her online through Mousehunt (shocked right?) and we became friendly playing the game together but became friends talking about....shoes. Yep, shoes. She had posted two pictures of shoes she was considering for her wedding and one was a plainer shoe, very pretty, but plain, and one was a peacock blue satin shoe that was so pretty it made you smile just to look at. I debated commenting on her picture for a few days because we were friendly but not really friends yet and I wasn't sure if it would be appropriate. But as I watched other people talk about the shoes and read Steph's dilemma of doing what was expected vs. what she wanted I had to comment. The blue shoes. Definitely go with the blue shoes! Later she took those blue shoes and added details to them, peacock feathers and lace and turned what was a cute shoe into a stunning shoe. That's what she does. 

The first time I met her face to face was in Toronto (blogged about here) and she brought gifts. She made t-shirts for her tournament team (in game stuff) she made a sculpture for the people we were throwing the party for, she and another good friend Corrie designed and made a cake for the party (planned with Steph in Vancouver, B.C. and Corrie in Philadelphia, PA.). And then to top it all off she also made each of us a little sculpture of the White Mouse as well as a larger one for the developers of the game to keep. This (at the time) was the first mouse we all caught in the game. Keep in mind that all of this was for people she had never met face to face.  

3 out of 4 Team Schrodinger's Cat

The Nibbler Mouse, Explosive Base and Tacky Glue Trap and Large White Mouse

Close Up of the Nibbler Mouse Clip Board, she added the names of the people who worked on the project.

Close Up of my little White Mouse

And her creativity and generosity doesn't stop there. When I posted a picture of a gorgeous sunrise on my page she commented that she wanted to turn it in to a painting. For most people this would be a random comment and sweet thought. For Steph it was something she wanted to do and did.

The photo of the sunrise take from the plane

Steph's painting.

And it's not just me that she does these wonderful things for, a mutual friend of ours actually made an entry in to UrbanDictionary.com to capture the greatness that is our Steph. So when my birthday came this year and I had a notification that Steph had not only posted on my facebook wall but had posted a link to something I knew it would be fun and creative. I had no idea it would make me cry though, and it did. She took pictures from that original Toronto meet and turned them into a Happy Birthday video for me. It was like all of my friends from literally all over the world were able to get together for a birthday party! It was awesome.

Which left a big question for me...what do you do to say thank you for something like that? I mean a normal thank you works, but is that enough for someone who can write a blog like this one? And as most big questions go I had the answer in about 5 minutes. I would write her a story for her birthday. I had over a month to do it (she and C share a birthday, how awesome is that?) and I had an idea of how I wanted it to go so it would be easy to do.

And it was, mostly...the first hurdle I reached was that I realized I was "Telling" a story not "Writing" a story. I was going to have to figure out a way to read it to her...and then I kept writing and re-writing the middle part. Once it was done and I had a few people take a peek at it to make sure it wasn't totally lame I posted it for her....It went over well. I was thrilled. For those of you on Facebook who are interested it's there. I did make Matt a bit more of a straight-man in my story than he really is. He is normally more of a co-conspirator of Steph's, but every story needs a straight-man and I knew Matt wouldn't mind being mine.

Then I realized I had more I wanted to say so on to the blog. And I guess I have only one thing left...

Thank you, Steph, knowing you has made my life so much more colorful. Which is amazing considering you are colorblind....  Love you.

Not the day I had planned....

For those of you that are friends on Facebook you know yesterday was not the day I had planned. The funny thing is when I picked up Brent and he said that he had seen I had a bad day I had to say that I really hadn't. It wasn't the day I had planned, and a lot didn't go right, but it wasn't really bad. Off and odd but not bad.

So the plan for the day was to go to my dermatologist appointment, talk to her about the medications she has me on and the side effects I am having, see what needed done with that then go home and switch things to my new purse and work on a project I am under a deadline to get done. If I got enough done on my project then I was thinking I would treat myself to a pedicure.

Instead I went to my appointment found out that the lab work I had done the week before was the wrong lab work so I needed to get another blood draw. Good news was I didn't need to fast for this one so I could just go do it that day. While I was at the doctor's office I asked her about a spot on my arm that seemed to be off. It was a mole but it had started bleeding, scabbing, bleeding, scabbing never healing up. She said that wasn't good so off it was going to go. Surprise! You are having a biopsy done today! Needle in the arm, punch and done.

So then I headed home to put on some makeup (no make up to the dermatologist but until the dermatologist works her magic makeup for every place else!) then back out to the lab. When I got to the lab the phlebotomist made a joke about me already being stuck since I had a bandage on my left arm. Then she saw the bruise on my right arm from where they drew blood last week. It was a bad draw and the bruise is still pretty good sized. She was a little embarrassed that that had happened in their lab but I was thinking, the fact that wrong labs were run is the part you should be embarrassed about. Not her fault though on either thing. She spent some time finding a new vein in my arm to draw from and did a very clean draw. Just a needle mark this morning, no bruise at all.

Off to get gas. The new Fred Meyer gas station is near the place I thought I was having lunch and near the place I could get a pedicure so I went there. I get .10 a gallon off my gas by using them. Which always sounds so much better until you realize you only saved like $1.30. Anyway, they designed the new station with super short hoses so you have to have the pump on the side your tank is on, which leads to cars pulling in every which way.  So I ended up face to face with another car and we both finished at the same time. Now I have to go around him or he around me to start. I can't go around him because two cars are behind him and one is blocking the lane to leave so until he pulls out and they can pull forward I am stuck. But he won't look in his rear view mirror and see this, he wants me to move first so he doesn't have to cut out as sharply. He is gesturing at me, not in a nice "you go first" sort of way, but in a "MOVE!" sort of way. So I did the point at the truck blocking the lane behind him hold your hands up in a "What do you want me to do?" move and he finally got it.  Though I am pretty sure he called me a name as he drove by. Subaru Driver.

So off I went in search of lunch. I decided I would treat myself to some cheap Mexican food. There has been an ad on TV the past few weeks for what are essentially taquito bites. Looked good! The problem was we have way too many cheap taco places. I knew it wasn't Taco Bell, thought maybe it was Del Taco so I tried there first, nope not it. So I thought...Taco del Mar? Nope not it either. Oh well it's late I will go get an egg salad at Starbucks instead...they were out so back to Taco del Mar. It was Taco Time that had the special, by the way.

I ended up behind a group of guys on their lunch break. Here is a life lesson for you. If you are ordering food in a place that needs to ask you a lot of questions (black, pinto or refried beans, chicken, pork or beef, corn or flour, here or to go?) do not get so engrossed in your text conversation that you are ignoring the person trying to help you. If your text is so important duck out of line until you are done then order your food. Oh and to the guy behind me...If you are ordering something off menu don't be a dick when the person waiting on you has no idea what you are talking about. Even if you have "Ordered this 100 times!" and if you have ordered it 100 times I suggest you branch out a little. So being the normal person in between the two jerks I was extra nice to the people working there. Not that I wouldn't have been nice anyway, but you know that nice you are to people to sort of make up for the fact that someone near you was a jerk. And I think they both appreciated it. At least they were very nice to me as well. In that so relieved I wasn't a raging bitch sort of way.

So I walk over to the nail salon to see if they can do a pedicure. Yay! They can, I go back out to the car to get my box and my shoes and see...Holy crap!  What the heck is this thing?? Yep, it's a nail. In my brand new tire. So I text Brent to see if he thought Les Schwab would have our tires (they are next to the nail place) and he calls them, calls the BMW place and gets an appointment set up for me to get the tire replaced that still gives me time to get my pedicure! Nice! So after explaining again and again that I just wanted the plain pedicure, no hot stone, not deluxe massage, no little flowers, yes I know it's a plain light color it's what I meant for them to look like...I was done and back on the road to the dealership.

Spent an hour at the dealership replacing my tire. Did I mention it was brand new? Okay, I exaggerate, it was about 3 months old...and then dashed home to change shoes, pedicure flip flops are not meant to be worn for long, then back to pick up Brent. No new purse, no work on the project. But as I said, when he said he was sorry I had a bad day I had to tell him it wasn't bad.

I got a biopsy that will either turn out to be nothing or it will turn out that I really needed it removed, either way better for my health and state of mind. I had a decent blood draw that didn't hurt or bruise. I got .10 a gallon off of my gas. I got lunch out. I got a pedicure. I had time to read an entire book. Which I might add I got an extra kick out of....the first time I read book 5 of the Sookie books I hadn't yet read the Shakespeare mystery series so the fact that the private eye was Lily Bard didn't mean a thing to me, this time I laughed and felt like I was seeing an old friend! And because the day was a little off we went out for sushi for dinner. Not a bad day at all really. Just not the day I had planned.

So today I worked on my project, it's mostly done just letting some ideas settle to see if I change some things around. I looked into changing my purse and realized I need to pick something up at Target before I do so and I am off to the last of my above the neck doctor's appointments this week. So far so good.

I hope you are all having good days. Even if they are off script!

What do you think?

Yesterday the weather had cooled enough to make cleaning C's rooms not seem like a torture session in a sweat box. Though he keeps his spaces semi-straightened he is not likely to pick up a dust rag or toss out an old game note if I am not standing over him with the duster and a trash bag. Because of this twice a year I go in and really clean out his rooms. It's a deal we have had for as long as I can remember. It used to come when he would leave for Mel Brown during the summer and Lionel Hampton in the winter, now it's when he leaves for school in the fall and again after Christmas. Anything he doesn't want me to see has to be put away and anything he wants to make sure he keeps needs to be as well. Then I go in and everything gets dusted and vacuumed, the shelves are straightened, books are put away, scraps of paper are tossed. The bed is stripped and the room is aired out. Everything is just tidied up.

So while I was doing this yesterday I couldn't help but smile. There was a little notebook that he has had for awhile. He has taken notes on a variety of things over the years. There were notes on a marketing plan he was making for me as a school project, actual musical notes written out for some composition he was working on, obvious game notes, arrows up down and sideways for codes as well as notes for games he was designing with plot points and boss levels spelled out. Then things that I had no idea what they meant and wasn't sure if I showed it to him if he would even remember anymore. I've written about my random notes before and to see his made me smile.

But the real treat came when I was dusting the shelves in his bedroom. I was moving his punk rock Elvis glasses to dust under them and Brian Setzer was playing on my iPod and I had to smile. This was when he was leading his big band playing re-worked Stray Cat material and other swing music. My dad loved big band and swing so I grew up listening to it with him. When C started playing trumpet I got the treat of listening to my son play music that my father loved. And that I loved as well. Some of the stuff C played I just didn't get. I like my jazz to hang together, he likes his to flow apart then come back together at the end. There were a lot of times during a concert he was playing in where the director would announce the song and C would make eye contact with me with an evil grin...and I knew somewhere in this song there would be mass soloing and it would be a hot mess. And he would love it. Not just because for him a really tight band is what mattered but because he would know I would be listening in the audience thinking...."hot mess!" Oh and those punk rock Elvis glasses? They were from the year he dressed up as Travis Touchdown for Halloween. Travis Touchdown is from No More Heroes. No, you probably haven't heard of him, most people haven't, but it didn't stop C from dressing up as him for Halloween a few years ago.

Anyway...right after the Brian Setzer song ended All Star started. This might be the very first song that C ever hated. If it would start on the radio he was switching it as fast as he could or if he couldn't reach the dial he was asking that it be switched. Hated it. And I really like it. Not the first time we have differed on music and most definitely not the last, he is full of eye rolls for my more "interesting" music selections and as an actual musician cannot stand a song with synthesized horns. As a child of the 80s synthesized instruments are a way of life. But the reason this made me smile is that for me as a parent I am always a little thrilled (sometimes it comes later after the exasperated part settles down) when he is strong in what he likes and dislikes. He has always been a kid, now an adult, who knows who he is. And I dig that. Even when I get ahead of myself making plans for him that he doesn't really want to follow.

Because, let's face it, most of our lives we will be told by others what they think of us. It's on our report cards as children, "Denise is easily bored and tends to distract the other children when they are trying to finish their work."  It's in our job reviews, "An area of improvement for you would be to show less frustration when others need more time to grasp a concept you are explaining."  We get it from parents, friends, children, spouses, everyone. They all let us know in big and small ways what they think of us.

The real trick is figuring out what you think of yourself. And this is where I have to give it to my son.  Even at 43 years old I have days where I let someone else's opinion of me color what I think of myself.  Where I have moments of self doubt wondering if I really am the person they just said I was.  This isn't the same as taking constructive criticism for areas of improvement and acting on them, (I did get better at hiding my frustration with people at work, usually. I never got better about distracting the other children at school.), I am talking about the moments where you are talking to someone and they give an opinion about you that you would never consider to be a true representation of yourself.  Those are the times that you have to think, okay, that's what you think of me....but what do I think of me?

So listening to music that he loves and then hates, moving the costume pieces around from Halloweens long ago and then seeing his picture pop up on my phone as he made his weekly call home I had to think, this kid has it together.  At least that's what I think of him.  I hope it's what he thinks of himself as well.

See what I mean?  Punk Rock Elvis!