Clearly Centsless..who wants my 2 cents anyway?

Wondering around the neigborhood

2010-01-16T23:24:00.000-05:00

Gnip gnop...gnip gnop
Cadence clear, steadfast
Stealing darkness
Reluctantly witnessing
The lights, living consoles ablaze
Disconnecting, obscuring
Feeling beautifully alone

I move

Gnip gnop...gnip gnop
Desperate lighting inspires the mission
Blinding beacons counter
The darkness quest
Breathing cold air thick and wet
Darkness' rhythm shines
As I steer purposely away from the light

Gnip gnop...gnip gnop

Sorry guys had to re post this...someone left in apprpriate comments...

It's SPRING!

2009-05-12T21:14:00.006-04:00

I love leaves! Spring and Fall are my two favorite seasons. Each provides its own unique visual poetry. I so treasure the colors, shades, textures, and smells that come with the genesis of spring and Fall's cessation.

Spring is the time when it's all still possible. Gardens are conceived, their future yield still in question. Weeding, protecting, feeding and watering, our best is given in the hopes of producing our vision. Despite the promising nature of most beginnings, it's often a crap shoot as to what the end results will be. And in that mysterious unknowing place, after the seeds have been planted, before anything has yet grown... all is possible and exists. It's a truly magical time.

Fall is the culmination. Results are in. It's the time when our hopes and expectations (met or not) also fall away, making room for the magnificent reality. It's over! It's finished! Those beautiful leaves signifying the end. Comforting, crunching beneath our footsteps we can rest soon...and see how perfect it all truly was.

2009-05-12T16:37:00.003-04:00

A recipe for ache

1 slice of melancholy
A dash of fear
Add memory and stir...

The pain insufferably dear
Muscles taught, fighting the pressure/weight

Noticing

Feeling

Been here before

These loathsome enduring rips and tears strengthening
Preparing to withstand even greater obligations

Sitting long enough, needing to move, stretch, BREATHE.

I find I am still here

Body and mind...sore as hell!

It's True

2009-04-27T09:00:00.001-04:00

There comes a point in your life when you realize...

Who matters,
Who never did,
Who won't anymore,
And who always will.

So, don't worry about people from your past.

There's a reason why they didn't make it to your future.

Be kinder than necessary,

because everyone you meet is fighting some kind of battle.

-Anonymous

The memories weigh heavy

2009-03-03T00:17:00.009-05:00

Not my husband!
Engaging smile
Cheeks dimpled
Living
Loving daughters times two
Connected and certain

Seeing me
Knowing me
Stuck between my Rock and no place
with confused disease
Alone

Not my husband!
Disconnecting,
Knowing but not accepting
Body re purposed,
Wasted, inflated with it's own importance

Exhausted,
Bare,
Swollen,
Ice cold He lay simply
NOT my husband.

Back with good intentions...and bad retention.

2009-01-27T22:26:00.009-05:00

Wow a post finally! Will I be able to retain my discipline to blog?

Well, I have never believed in making New Years resolutions but this year I decided that change was in the air. One of the changes I'm making this year is focusing more on friendships and making NEW ones. I need some SINGLE friends and in pursuit of this end, I have joined some different groups, am taking an art class and am looking into volunteering for this.

As a result I have had less time for my virtual life, including my blog. I tend to seesaw between giving 100% to any given project and Nil. All or nothing...which leads me to my next resolution, finding a balance between my projects.

I've also started going to the gym again (my third resolution). I hadn't gone most of last year, and started 3 weeks ago. Why did I stop? I have so much more energy and just feel better period.

Well where to start? So many topics...so little time.

So far this week there has been a theme to each day. It began Monday morning at the gym, but also happened later at the grocery store and then again while I was waiting for my daughter at her art class. I was drawn into extended conversations each time with a very sweet, mentally challenged individual. Just very strange. Two out of the three times the woman (a different one each time) even stopped what they were doing to address me specifically and then talk to me about nothing and everything.

On Tuesday, Relationships was the theme of the day...in the grocery store again (gosh I go there a lot.) I was passing an older gent on one of the motorized carts. I asked him to excuse me for getting in his way. He just smiled sweetly and said "I'm with the blond." pointing to an older woman pushing a cart just ahead. The pair must have been in their late seventies/early eighties and the love and desire he expressed with that simple phrase "I'm with the blond." just struck me. I turned the corner, caught up with his wife and told her what her husband had said. She smiled this big smile and said they had been together for 58 years. In that moment I felt so happy for their relationship and the obvious love and affection they shared. I felt sadness knowing I would never have that with Peter, yet simultaneously hopeful that I might find a love like theirs in my future.

I turned the aisle again to experience another striking couple. Two teenage girls were shopping for soup, laughing and discussing the merits of Campbell vs Progresso. After finalizing their choices, they walked arm in arm down the aisle, one girl giving a kiss and fondling her girlfriends buttocks. I don't mind PDA as a rule, but do think the fondling of body parts in public is a little much. And though that's why they first received my attention, they kept it because I was so impressed with their complete OKness with their pubic display of affection. No one I knew back in high school would have been OK with expressing their blatant or latent homosexuality at their local grocery store. That these young women didn't feel the need to hide I thought that was pretty amazing. I like to think it is a positive sign that the kids these days are becoming more tolerant, and expect to receive tolerance in return.

I wonder what tomorrow will bring? I think the theme might be SNOW, or WHINING CHILDREN, but I'll just have to wait and see :)

All Present And Accounted For

2008-12-09T22:43:00.010-05:00

The Spirit of giving. What is it exactly? Whether we give out of expectation, obligation, to avoid guilt, or for the pure joy of it, we give because not to, would feel worse.

So....

What is a thoughtful gift anyway? I would say, it usually has the recipients wants and wishes fore most in mind, though haven't we all received a present that seemed to speak more about the person giving the gift? More times than not, the "gift" is something they themselves valued and wanted to share with us. These are the gifts that are sometimes presented with the prefacing statement "I know it's nothing you've ever expressed an interest in, but I love loved it and just know you will too."

Ideally, gift giving is a compromise between the values of both giver and recipient. It provides a wonderful opportunity to step outside ourselves, and really see and consider each others' desires and interests. But it is difficult to give a gift we ourselves find little value, and perhaps that is a contributing factor to this more egocentric type of gift giving. One might question whether that type of present even qualifies as a gift. Though the motivation seems pure, they loved the item and want it to bring as much joy to our life as it did to their own, do these kinds of gifts truly have us in mind?

When ever I went shopping with the girls to help them find presents for their Dad, they would pick out Etch a Sketches, glitter pens, kitties, all the things they valued and would love to get as presents. I would constantly have to remind them that that they should think of what Daddy might find useful or appreciate. I wonder how often we fall back into that kid like mentality, of giving what we ourselves would like to receive.

Interesting how in the end, it can be the receiver of one of these types of presents who is the one to give the true gift, by receiving gracefully the unexpected and undesired item.
It is after all the thought that counts.

A bra does not a woman make

2008-12-01T11:32:00.013-05:00

What I want to know is, when did people get so strangely obsessed with their daughters' breasts?

I have been hearing from my daughter since the 2nd grade, and seen with my own eyes, little girls, not even near actual puberty wearing sport bras and training bras. I have overheard mothers talking, asking each other whether their daughter was developing yet. These are mothers of young girls 7, 8 years old, and though some girls do develop at a very young age, most don't even begin to start till they are at least 10 years old. Having said that, most of the 10 year old girls I see at my daughter's school do NOT need a bra though most seem to have them. Through conversation with my daughter's friends over the years I have been left with the distinct impression that the girls don't like wearing them and that they were told they needed them by their parents. One said it was so her nipples wouldn't show when she was cold. WHHHAAAT???? Like, little boys' nipples don't stick out when they get cold? Do we make them wear bras? So I ask what is going on here?

Dumbfounded I have had conversations with my daughter's teachers and they agree with me, that these kids are no where near puberty. Most felt that the parents were mistaking their daughters' extra body fat as developing breasts. If that is the requirement for wearing a bra then many of the boys in elementary school could qualify. So my daughter, still very much a girl, is starting to feel freakish for not needing one. Why is everyone in such a rush to sexualize these still young girls.

So off to the store we will go to get a bra she doesn't need. I am truly incensed by it all.

I wholeheartedly agree with this post on shopping for girls bras. Anyone with young daughters should take a look at what's in store for you when your girls reach that special age.

Meat your neighbors

2008-11-28T12:44:00.000-05:00

This past week, a very odd story ran in many of the local papers..

FRAMINGHAM, Mass. - Police in Framingham are trying to figure out who keeps leaving chunks of meat on the town common, and why.

Police say residents have been finding butcher-quality cuts of meat on the common for about five weeks. In the most recent incident, a resident discovered a large piece of raw, unwrapped meat, along with what appeared to be a liver and some bones on Tuesday.

The town Board of Health is also on the case of the mystery meat. Police are asking anyone with information to give them a call at 508-872-1212.

One helpful lead...?

In possibly-related news, self-professed neo-shaman, Ervin Schnorkbuttle, claims to have proven the existence of a carnivorous spirit inhabiting the Framingham Town Common. Offerings of raw meat, left for the spirit at night, disappear without explanation, says Schnorkbuttle.

Except this meat isn't disappearing!! More likely it is a mischievous neighbor?

Now how bad can the economy be if people can afford to taunt their neighbors with butcher grade meat? It's not like they're tossing around ground chuck.

For a more in detail article on this odd event click here

About me, myself and I

2008-11-26T14:09:00.000-05:00

So many things have been running through my head of late. I just haven't had the mental discipline, to settle on any single one, for my blog. Then this sharing, confessional mood struck and I just went with it. The following is a small peek into me myself and I.

I appreciate big beautiful supermarkets with wide isles and an extensive international food section.
I love the way babies smile and laugh at everything and nothing.
I gave my first kiss in 1st grade, to a very mortified classmate.
And received my first kiss 9 years later.
I love digging tunnels in the snow.
I sometimes listen in on others conversations at restaurants.
And enjoy making up ridiculous conversations when others are eavesdropping.
I so enjoy silliness and quirkiness.
I killed a bumble bee, stomped it with my foot when I was in 2nd grade and it still haunts me.
I believe there are times when emotion should outweigh reason.
I wonder if I am a fearful optimist/hopeful cynic.
I feel very alone.
And desperately miss my best friend.
I would love to find my 2nd special someone...
I enjoy walking into the wind. (both physically and metaphorically)
And enjoy running up and back down sand dunes!
I can do a ridiculous amount of sit ups.
I do not believe in justice...so stop holding your breath.
I work at believing in grace, mercy, and that life never throws you more than you can handle.
As a child, I never knew what I wanted to be when I grew up, and still don't.
I miss the cicadas in Rockland. Without them, summer always feels like something is missing.
I like the new James Bond, but not the films...Come on guys write better scripts! The reason I go to a Bond film is not to see him emotionally connect with a woman and be led astray. I don't want to connect with his softer side. (no pun intended) That's not what Bond is about.
I think Starbucks' eggnog lattes are a little taste of Christmas heaven.
I've been in love, twice in my life.
And talked myself into believing I was, in one other relationship.
I will take a bad cup of tea over a bad cup of coffee any day.
I question those who have all the answers.
I think all clowns are extremely creepy.
I feel that the straight and narrow path may not be all it's cracked up to be...and that first step off, is a real doozie.
I have a ridiculous number of candles that I never ever burn. (Christmas gifts anyone?)
I am very superstitious about ordering new bank checks. (I have at least 2 more boxes. Phew!)

Alright, the feeling has passed. That's all for now.

Sometimes a cold is just a cold

2008-11-13T11:29:00.001-05:00

My body has often been a barometer for what is going on in my life.

Almost half way through my sophomore year in college, I experienced debilitating chronic joint pain in my hips. None of the Doctors could figure it out. I missed class, because it hurt too much to sit, let alone walk there and back. Walking back from the Art building I would call Peter in tears, begging him to please come pick me up in his car. The building was only a mile away from the dorms.

I went for CT scans and MRIs which all came back normal. It was very frustrating business to suffer so, with no attributable cause to validate the pain. As quickly as it came, it left a mere 6 months latter.

Looking back I can see how stuck I felt, and how much my life was moving in the wrong direction. Not until my situation changed, did my symptoms resolve.

I have also experienced, thankfully not in many years,TMJ symptoms so severe that I could hardly open my mouth. The onset has always coincided with a situation where I felt completely unable to express my thoughts and feelings. And not so mysteriously lasts as long as I am in said situation.

Another example is terrible wrist pain that I get from time to time. The doctors diagnosed it ten years ago as Carpal Tunnel Syndrome. I had/have all the symptoms of CTS, however it comes and goes, usually only staying a week or so at a time. It only occurs a few times a year and can effect either hand. So it is obviously NOT Carpel Tunnel. I figured out 5 years ago that it only kicked in when I felt unsupported and over extended. That is when it would start hurting and I would put on one of those oh so attractive wrist braces. My wrist would get the support it needed till it felt better and I would do some soul searching to find where I needed more support. With in the week, I would be as good as new.

While this communication with my body is helpful and healthful for me, it helps further what I think is an ultimately misguided belief that my health and well being are in my control. I received the message growing up, that illness is an outward manifestation of dis ease in ones own life. While that belief empowers, it also fosters the illusion of control. There are things I can control, and I can make healthy choices, but still get sick for no reason. Not everything means something. Like dreams. Some dreams are like your brain just threw up the entire contents of the previous day, but others are important, and meaningful.

Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar and a cold is just a cold!

It's that time of year...

2008-11-11T16:23:00.006-05:00

It's that time of year folks. All the catalogs, and advertisements are sure signs that the gift giving season is upon us. My children can't wait to look through all the catalogs and make lists of what they hope Santa will bring. The Toys R Us advertisement had some questionable items this year.
I found this delightful item in a section that advertised traditional genderless games like Scrabble, Uno, and Life repackaged all pink and girlified. Does the manufacturer really think that girls are going to see these and think "Like oh my God! I never wanted to play Scrabble before but it looks so cute in that pink box. Now that it's pink I just have to have it!" And what about the Ouija board. I thought the whole point of that was the creep out factor. Though the statement on the box...Ask the questions girls want to know creeps me out a little. Which dead female icon would they be getting said advice from anyway?

Or how about this one?
My Life Handheld "Customize your own character, choose a pet, play games, and live a fun virtual life!" Oh yea. I prefer to give gifts that promote a fun filled REAL life. But hey, that's just me.

Personally I am hoping I get the Shamwow. I just love the as seen on TV infomercials. (Hint hint Dad) And those water globes are pretty, though practically speaking, you can just invert any soda bottle filled with water and stick it in a pot to achieve the same effect.

Knowledge is a frightening thing

2008-10-28T15:00:00.000-04:00

I love love LOVE my new phone. So many gadgets and new features, access to the web, video capability all with 8 GB memory card. I have been playing with and so enjoying getting to know all the features of this phone.

Though I usually can recognize by sound, the band or artist who is singing, I have never been one to keep song titles in my head. The new song id feature on my phone has opened up a whole new world. It has given me the opportunity to consider groups I didn't know I liked. For example I felt very confused to find out this one song I had really been enjoying in the car the other day, was Sure Shot by the Beastie Boys. Now I am not talking about their 1986 album Licensed to Ill, which is arguably a classic with their hits Brass Monkey and Fight For Your Right. I Just didn't realize I was a Beastie Boys fan. Who knew? What's next Vanilla Ice?

I

Kids say the funniest things

2008-10-27T15:55:00.000-04:00

Kids truly say the funniest things.

It all started with my youngest who is 6. On the way home from an after school activity, she wanted to know what constituted a Popsicle. Deciding not to go into the fact that Popsicle is a name brand and that the generic reference would be freezer pop, I told her that basically anything that was partially if not completely liquid in nature once frozen on a stick could be considered a Popsicle.

Being still still stuck in the potty humor phase, she started rattling off her special variations of the beloved treat. Peescicle illicited delightful laughter from my eldest, who was more than happy to join in with poopscicle and vomitscicle. Just when I thought I was through with this subject, over dinner my eldest says
"What about obesescicle?"

"What, a fat person on a stick?" I asked.

"Yeah" she said "But she would have to be frozen too, huh?"

"Yes" I answered.

"Freezing is an essential part of what defines a Popsicle. Please pass the pasta."

You can't take it with you, but apperently that's not an issue...Just place your order from the great beyond.

2008-09-29T11:17:00.000-04:00

Identity theft is an insidious noxious act.

Though much can be said about an individual by looking at their credit history, a person is so much more than their credit score and their identifying stats. If only the thieves that steel peoples identities could keep that in mind. The havoc created by a person stealing such personal information is almost unimaginable. For the most part the burden is placed on the individual to safe guard their own credit information. The three credit reporting agencies will put a temporary fraud alert on your account for up to 90 days...but you have to remember to call back when the 90 days are up to put the alert back on. Once criminals start using your identity the real fun starts. Even if the agencies have your account blocked due to identity theft, if credit is issued fraudulently by institutions that don't check your report, you have to document and support each claim as to why you aren't responsible. Each incident then needs to be reported to your local law enforcement office as well. While you are disputing the fraud your credit is going down the toilette...and it can take years to clear it up.

It is depressing business navigating the whole rigmarole. At some point most people have to give their private information (name, social security number, telephone number, address, even mother's maiden name)to secure loans, mortgages, credit, etc. It is not possible to protect yourself completely from this terrible crime. There are steps to reduce the likely hood of becoming a victim, but the reality is that your bank has your information, (unless your one of those people who keep your life savings in a mattress) your mortgage lender has it (if you own your own home) along with various credit institutions servicing a car loan or credit cards.

After being contacted by my mortgage lender, I received the special pleasure of being informed that there was a possibility that both my identity and that of my deceased husband may have been stolen and sold by an employee. So now the fun begins.

My mortgage company trying to mitigate the fallout over the actions of their miscreant employee, offered a free credit monitoring service for 2 years. I signed up right away not even giving a thought that my husbands name was still technically on the mortgage. (Due to the fees and paperwork involved I hadn't bothered to inform them of his passing.) This turned out to be a twisted blessing in disguise. His name being listed first on the account made him the initial target for the identity theft.

Ten days after I had received notification from the mortgage company, I received in 1 day over 15 phone calls from online insurance sites, online degree programs, along with local car dealerships informing me that they were calling in response to my husbands interest in these various products and services. It was jarring to continuously receive calls from these people telling me they had received e mail from my husband regarding his interest in xy or z. I was so irate over these impersonations. How dare these people try to steel services from people in his name and impugn his credit. And the phone calls were just like rubbing salt in a wound. I woke up every morning thinking I wonder how many times I am going to have to say "My husband's dead." today. So after rushing off copies of his death certificate and social security number to all 3 Credit Reporting Agencies to officially declare him dead I think I can finally put this, as well as my husband to rest (again).

When they bought the ticket they knew (or should have known) what they were getting into. I say let them CRASH!

2008-09-27T15:52:00.002-04:00

I am so incensed, I just needed to have a cathartic rant on the topic of this economic crisis... Am I alone in my thinking?

Why do we need a rescue plan? Because collectively, as a society we acted like idiots. The masses ruined it for those that acted responsibly. Now the government is trying to act like a parent stepping in to rescue its citizens in distress. The mortgage crisis came about from people’s arrogance that they DESERVED to have the house, car, boat, new bathroom, second home, etc. regardless of whether it was something they they could realistically afford. What happened to renting an apartment, working hard, and saving to put down 10-20 % on a home, car, home improvement project? I have absolutely NO sympathy for those who took out those crazy mortgages for houses they truthfully couldn’t afford and are now facing foreclosure. It is not your right as an American to own your own home. These people gambled and lost, and are now whining to be rescued.

For those that have lost there jobs and are having trouble paying their mortgage, I feel for them, but the reality folks, is that bad things happen to good people. Part of making good responsible financial decisions involves some planning for situations like lost jobs, deaths, etc. by keeping a cushion of money to land on. Except for those on food stamps, and in our bottom economic strata, ANYONE can choose to live within their means. By doing so you may not be able to keep up with the neighbor next door, but you do get piece of mind knowing that you and yours are taken care of. You would think, that would be more important then keeping up with the Joneses. If the housing market is over inflated and you can’t afford to buy, then don’t, rent.

Then I hear story after story from people that are whining about how they have been taken advantage of by their mortgage company. “Why would they have said we could afford the loan if it wasn’t in my best interest?” While I will admit there are predatory people in the mortgage industry, in the end it is an individual’s responsibility to be actively involved and critically evaluate whether a service/ product is in their best interest. If they aren’t capable of making these decisions, then they should have a friend or family member who is, help them out in that regard. Mortgage lenders offer choices, and just because they say you’re technically approved for certain loans doesn’t mean you should choose them. People who don't understand that the mortgage lenders are looking to make the most money possible off them are hopelessly naive. You don't get something for nothing. I am sure this is a bitter pill to swallow for many but why shouldn't they have to whether the consequences of their own stupidity?

How can we forget the greedy financial institutions that were willing to lend the money out despite the credit risk? When did financial institutions get into the practice of gambling, with no money to back up their bets? On that note, I understand that SOMETHING needs to be done regarding the resulting economic crisis that has come to pass. However, I am very dubious about the Bail Out plan presently proposed. I would rather see the financial institutions who helped bring about this whole mess suffer the natural consequences of their stupidity and greed. Jobs would be lost, credit would freeze up, and many innocent people would suffer and though that would be unfortunate, with far reaching effects, I just can’t see why the mortgage and banking industry should receive a get out of jail card and not suffer the consequences of their bad choices.

Project Morning Person is a total bust!!

2008-09-19T15:02:00.007-04:00

I have come to the conclusion that one should not try to mess with Mother Nature. At least not to the extent that I did while trying to change myself into a morning person. The results after just a few days were promising. Unfortunately, they were short lived. I did start going to sleep before midnight at first, but bedtime started to slowly slide later and later over the weeks. Still getting up very early, I have been so exhausted some days, that I end up taking a nap for a couple hours in the middle of the day. It's ironic that I started this whole thing because I felt like I was missing too much of the day.

I can't help but draw a parallel between what I did to myself and when one diets. At first the weight is lost....you look and feel good....but slowly old habits and ways return and all the weight returns plus 5 or 10 more. Crazy that trying to change oneself for the better should end up having such a negative end result. Perhaps the fatal flaw in my plan was having a specific idea of what should be a normal night of sleep. Trying to achieve this ideal, like trying to reach a certain dress size, is less important than trying to figure out what my body needs to function at its best.

Well my body tells me it doesn't like to get up in the early morning hours. If nothing else I have discovered that I should never get up before 6am, and after 6, only if it's an emergency. I can force myself to get up by 7 for work, or to help the kids get off to school when necessary. And 8 is the earliest I would voluntarily wake up. In an ideal world I would sleep till 9 or 10am and start my day. Perhaps moving to a new time zone, CST or MST would help...But I know my internal clock would just shift accordingly... You just can't trick Mother Nature. I night owl I seem destined to be.

Maybe I just need one of these.
The Flattua bed is supported by a single beam attached to the wall, creating a neat effect that looks like your bed is floating on air.

Then I would sleep as peacefully as this guy is meditating.

The Quantum Sleeper should give anyone piece of mind...you are instantly ready for any crisis or emergency. Though I find no mention of drinking water storage capabilities.

Duck season!...No.... Rabbit season! Actually it's TICK season!

2008-09-17T19:49:00.008-04:00

Oh how I hate these little buggers. I studied all about the many species of ticks while earning my Vet Tech degree, and these little suckers are truly disgusting.

The American Dog tick (Dermacentor Variabilis) is everywhere, and each year I have to make the choice whether or not to put down poison to keep the kids from being covered in them. This year I gambled and decided not to go the poison route. My oldest has lucked out...Apparently her body chemistry was not attractive to them and she had no tick incidents this year. My youngest on the other hand has had 5 bites from dog ticks and 3 bites from deer ticks this year. Luckily I have found them all within a handful of hours but those deer tick nymphs are SMALL!!! More than 1 out of every 2 Deer ticks in this area have Lyme disease, so I have been pulling my hair out (and poor Dana's, looking for ticks) all summer long. Short of dipping her in DEET there is nothing I can do but do a full body inspection EVERY TIME she comes back inside. It makes me want to move to the South West....but then I would just worry about scorpions and rattle snakes.

Threats to small children abound in my area....at least according to the local news. It seems that besides my children being besieged by ticks, I need to keep a watch out for groundhogs, rabid foxes,and such. Those these reports are from a year ago, but are typical of reports from year to year.

I wonder if a whale or dolphin can get rabies? Would they experience the typical hydrophobia? Maybe that's why they are always beaching themselves. What a bad horror film that could make.....A terrorist purposefully infecting pods of whales that start crushing our ships as they try to throw themselves out of the water onto the boats.

Clearly I need to get out more.

I did it and learned a lot along the way

2008-09-09T12:43:00.008-04:00

Over the years computers and I have have had a very tumultuous and complicated relationship. I started out back in the day, dead set against them. They were always something I hated to love and loved to hate. I was a committed technophobe, even using a manual typewriter through out high school, though I finally did get an electric one for college. It was the early 90s and computers were mostly being used to store information, run specific programs, to analyze data, and such. However, they started to creep into my everyday life. By the time I graduated from college, even libraries were replacing their card catalogs with computers, (boo hoo) and there was this phenomenon called the world wide web, that my husband kept talking about.

I remember one late afternoon in 1996, when he decided to show me how it all worked. I listened dubiously as he explained to me the concept of web pages, and started typing in random addresses to see what popped up. There were no real search engines like google so it was just sort of hit or miss. We tried many different addresses but time and time again, after waiting minutes for the page to down load,(the joys of dial up) it would more often then not, say page under construction. We kept at it for an hour or so, Peter getting more and more frustrated as my curiosity faded and my feelings confirmed regarding the limits of a computer's usefulness. Other than running certain software programs, creating word documents, and playing computer games like Doom, I thought that a computer amounted to a very large and expensive paper weight.

Peter remained committed to his technophillic nature and I got to reap the benefits of his ever expanding knowledge of all things computer. The computer became an essential part of my life. Running spread sheets, researching, shopping, paying bills, playing games, keeping in touch with those I care about and love are just a few of the ways computers became an integral part of my day. It would be hard to think of life without them.

Peter had always been the one to install the latest programs or hardware. He maintained it, kept it virus free, defragmented it, added memory, etc. I knew nothing of these things and was gratefully oblivious. If a window popped up while I was using it, asking me a question, I would call Peter at work to make sure it was OK to click on it. I certainly didn't want to cause a problem. I suppose I am starting to sound like a nit wit, but my computer illiteracy was merely a result of a devision of labor. I was completely in charge of our finances, running of the house, all things kids, most of the yard maintenance, etc. so I was perfectly happy to leave the area of computers to him.

But then he got sick. And dealing with the computer alone was not something I knew how to do. While Peter was receiving treatment in Texas, I had to transport our computer there and set it up with DSL. And when we got back home I became obsessed with getting the computer hooked back up and running. Amongst the chaos of my family's return home, the arrival of my husband's parents and siblings, and the setting up hospice care, I had to set up the computer and have it up and running. In my mind if I could do this one last thing without him, then the girls and I would somehow be OK. Over the 8 months he had been sick, I had run the entire show. The computer was the last thing I had depended on him for. On the 8th of August, we flew back from Houston on a private Jet loaned to us by the owner of the Sonics. Two friends of the family were driving back our car full of our belongings, including the computer, and weren't scheduled to arrive till the 10th.

I felt if I could just get the computer up and running without him, then maybe there was hope of a life after Peter. If I could just get it running, then maybe everything might eventually be OK. Late afternoon on the 10th, with my very confused in laws looking on, I spent what felt like 2 hours on the phone with a very patient rep from Adelphia helping me plug cords in the proper places and getting my computer back on line. After, I went into the bedroom where Peter lay. I wanted for him to know that I would be OK. I whispered into his ear that I had done it. I had gotten the computer running.

I needed him to know that although it was NOT OK for him to be leaving us, that it would somehow be OK, even if I couldn't yet see how. I would not crumple up and die. Life would go on. I would go on....without him. He knew the significance of what I had accomplished and what I was really saying.

I was saying goodbye.

He died 8 hours later in my arms.

In these past 2 years, I have been delighted to discover that regarding computers, I wasn't as much of a dunce as I thought I was. I must have picked up a lot from Peter over the years without knowing it. And after getting over my fear of irreparably damaging the computer I've spent hours opening up tabs rooting around and becoming more and more familiar with my computer. It helps a lot that everything is SO menu driven and intuitive. And of course there is that wonderful world wide web of information at my fingertips, so I can usually find out what I don't know. Last year after my computer became infected with a virus I learned how to put it in safe mode and manually deleted the infected files. Is it something that would have taken Peter 20 minutes to do? Yes. Did it take me 8 hours? Absolutely. But I did it and learned a lot along the way.

Hopefully, when my time comes I will be able to say the same about my life.

Ready or not time marches on.

2008-09-02T22:46:00.027-04:00

Ahh the first day back at school. One glorious year when both children will be in the same school, on the same bus. I can't believe I have a 1st grader and a 5th grader. Where has the time gone? I still remember only yesterday when they looked like...

THIS

On the left Dana at 3 months and on the right Sienna at the same age!

What little troll dolls they were. And if you spun them around real quick, their hair would stick straight out just like the dolls from our youth. Remember these guys?

Pulaski, NY times a changn'

2008-08-25T20:18:00.005-04:00

Most of my childhood summers were spent an hour North of Syracuse, right on the beach of Lake Ontario. The closest towns were a 15 minute drive to Sandy Creek or the longer 1/2 hour ride in to the booming metropolis of Pulaski. I still make it back there once a summer with my kids and was disappointed to find one of town's establishments had been taken over by a new owner and my favorite sign gone. It was a drop off place for can and bottle returns. For as long as I can remember, an ancient wooden sign hung outside, with the simple words Redemption Center. Driving by I would think to myself " So THAT is where one goes for forgiveness and finds redemption. Ahh if it were only that easy... " Well, Judy's Bottle Return is now sporting it's new name on a brand new sign. The redemption center and it's magical redeeming possibilities now, is forever lost to me. But my brother drew my attention to another new place. A hair salon called Dye and Curl Up. I think they made the right call by switching the order around. Curl Up and Dye might have been a little too off putting, though both versions leave me with the impression that an appointment should not be made lightly. They could have really gone for the whole kit and caboodle and named it Get Cut, Curl Up and Dye. But that would be just silly.

From Buffalo with love

2008-08-12T22:20:00.005-04:00

I've really enjoyed being back in my old haunting grounds...already having visited one of my favorite restaurants, Panos, I am looking forward to hitting Duffs for some of the BEST Buffalo hot wings on the planet. Five days into my 2 week traveling extravaganza I have stayed overnight at my Moms summer cottage, getting to visit with my brother and his girlfriend, and close friends of the family. Then we were off to my cousins fabulous wedding over the weekend and visited with my oldest cousin and his family.

Now staying with my in-laws in Buffalo I am looking forward to connecting with some old friends in the area and meeting up with one of my best friends and her family who chose to travel the same week to visit Niagara Falls. Maid of the Mist, here we come! It's one of those touristy things you never get around to doing when you live 20 min. away. So I'm looking forward to taking the kids and the fact that they will get to go with their best friends from home is all the better.

Who isn't watching the Olympics? The swimming relay race on Sunday night was incredible! The woman's gymnastics team was painful to watch as they just kept falling and stepping out of bounds. Though they appear to have it together tonight.And I don't understand it but it seems they are dropping softball from the Olympics. But they are keeping team handball? How is softball less of a serious sport than handball?

Well, stay tuned for tales from the redemption center...and a hair salon that you may never survive.

Late night visitors, dramatic exits and mindful driving...(A stream of thought post)

2008-08-06T14:58:00.004-04:00

I'll be on the road visiting family and friends for the next couple of weeks. I will have little to no access to the internet during this time, so posts will be far and few between. Rest assured I will have lots to talk about in my return.

I had a couple of late night visitors last night. Two teenage boys got lost cutting through the woods, walking back from a friend's party late last night. Their cell phone had died and they had no idea on what street they had ended up. My neighbor had been less than helpful (they had rung their doorbell before mine). I couldn't let them inside to use the phone...and didn't want to hand them my cell phone...(bye bye cell phone). But I called their houses and left word of their situation to their parents and offered to call the police to help them where they needed to go. Sure enough the boys in blue showed up with one of the kid's brothers to take them home.

Ah, the memories it brought back of curfews and parties gone awry. Come to think of it, in High School James and I were the only ones with strict curfews...or had the earliest ones anyway. One of my most memorable exits of a party has to have been a cast party in Congers that my whole group of friends attended. James and I had the earlier curfew and left to go home. Driving at night, in an unfamiliar part of the county, I got into a terrible car accident that totaled my parents station wagon. Thankfully no one was seriously hurt, the driver of the other vehicle got stitches in his leg and I got the worst of it, shattering the drivers side window with my head. What a dynamic exit! And for some reason, after, no one wanted to ride with me so much. Go figure.

And that leads me to another memory of friends (you know who you are) who would give me directions, "right" or "left" when I was driving at night leading me into dead ends and culda sacs. I would just blindly trust their directions and oh how they would laugh, when I discovered they had led me into a dead end. They got me every time. :)

My friend Mike and I were the worst drivers I knew back in the day. It wasn't that we drove badly, the mechanics of our driving were fine. I won't speak for Mike, but my difficulty was focusing on the task at hand. My mind would start to wander and I would be thinking about someone or a situation, instead of keeping my mind on the road. I was a bit of a day dreamer and it took me a number of years to achieve the appropriate mindfulness needed to become a good driver.

Though a bit of a speed demon I am no longer a hazard on the road. :) My 8 hour road trip upstate this weekend will hopefully prove that.

Weekend up date

2008-08-03T20:18:00.003-04:00

Here is the update on project Morning Person. Well, except for last night, I am pleased to say that my experiment has been somewhat successful. I have gone to bed before midnight most nights this week. I have slept in however till 8 or so in the morning. Obviously, I have had a lot of sleep deprivation to catch up on. I need to push that back a bit, but so far, so good. I did cheat however, and tried Tylenol PM a couple of nights, which works pretty darn well.

I took the girls to a local amusement park this past Friday. We hadn't been to one in 3 years, so it was a real treat. Dana had to wear her sneakers with gell cushions to make the 48 inch requirement...And after the Boston Tea Party ride, (basically a Giant version of the flume that seats 20 people.) her shoes were soaked, but no matter. The three of us had an awesome day! Arriving at 11:00am, we walked the park back and forth for the next 8 hours or so, leaving at 7:45pm. I was in bed by 10:30 that night! A truly wonderful exhausting day.

This week is a tough one for me. It will be 2 years ago August 11th that Peter died. It is strange how different this year has been to last. Not really any easier, just different. I haven't been reliving the horror show day to day, though I wonder if the body does hold onto memories in some visceral sense, regardless of what our brain holds onto. I had been having a perfectly wonderful day on Saturday, when all of a sudden a dark cloud of doom descended. It came out of no where. I sat still for a moment trying to figure it out, when it hit me that 2 years ago to the day, almost to the hour, the doctors brought me in for the talk, confirming that Peter's condition was terminal. I wonder if the trauma and stress a body is put through lives on in us at a cellular level, a biological PTSD of sorts.

It is at this point my very good friend Eva would say. "Kirsten you think about things way too much." And she is right, in that the answer wouldn't really change how I am feeling or doing. What can I say, but that I am an intensely curious person.

Sometimes coffee isn't just coffee, it's an invitation....to HELL

2008-07-30T13:49:00.006-04:00

Over the past 2 years, I have had the chore of finding, evaluating and hiring contractors to fix up the seemingly endless lits of things going wrong with the house. First of all, I have had very little experience doing this. Peter was a Mr. Fix it sort of guy and did most projects himself. The only project we ever hired out was when we changed the location of the water meter cemented into the foundation floor. Some things you just don't mess with. Secondly, I always worry that the contractor is going to try to take advantage and overcharge me, or tell me I need things I don't really need. So the process involves getting a few estimates from the contractors who even bother to show up, ( you would think in this economy that they would be glad for the work?) decide to trust the ones that are all in the same ball park and then just going for it and praying they show up to do the job promised.

When I got the bathroom redone last year, I decided to use a friend of a friend whom I had heard terrific things about. I got his verbal estimate, told him that it sounded great and waited, and waited, and waited for the written contract. I called and left a dozen messages over a weeks time. He called me back once to tell me it would be mailed out shortly. I never got the contract nor heard from him ever again. Unbelievable! After that fiasco I try to use friends and friends' family members when possible. At least that way, they won't be able to fall off the face of the earth and presumably have a vested interest in completing the job in an appropriate fashion.

So the roof has been the latest project completed. The mason is showing up today...(it never ends...sigh) The roofer was the brother of one of my neighbors. He called me up at 7:30 pm to see if he could come over and go through the estimate. It seemed harmless enough. He wanted to bring me a coffee which I declined. He insisted and showed up with coffee in hand. We went over the estimate in about 15 min. 2 1/2 hours later, he has inappropriately shared WAY too much personal information, not least was, that he planned on leaving his very sick and emotionally damaged girlfriend of 6 years. The message clearly was that he wanted me to know that he was available, for more than the roof job. I realize this was NOT going in a good direction. But he just wouldn't stop talking, his run ins with the law, evictions by his landlords, a stabbing, it just wouldn't stop and frankly, I was stunned into inaction by all that he was disclosing. I hired him to do my roof...! Finally at the end, even he admitted the inappropriateness of the situation with his comment that "you needed a roof and I guess I needed someone to talk to." As I close and lock the door behind him, breathing a sigh of relief, I think OK, surely everything will be back to business as usual. He must have just had a bad day. But the next day he showed up with more coffee and a big smile, and said he was looking forward to spending more time with me, as he touched my arm.

Now I am NOT interested in this man, especially after what happened the evening before. But apparently he has interpreted my tolerance of last nights interaction as interest? And then he does the worst thing a man can do when trying to date a woman with kids. He tried to get on my good side by trying to get the kids to like him. He brought them doughnuts. Who does this guy think he is, showing up to my house buying my kids junk food without my OK? You just don't do that. You don't get to a woman through her children, you get the honer of meeting a woman's children after you have already won her over. I don't even know this guy...it is the third time I have ever met him. So I found myself in the strange situation of needing to break up with my roofer. I kept on wondering if I was reading the signs wrong, but really that was just wishful thinking. It just goes to serve as a reminder that even indifference can be construed as interest. Like the song says you do have to be cruel to be kind...in the right measure though in this case it does not mean that I love you.

All this drama when all I wanted was freaking roof! (which in his defense, was done beautifully.)

The early bird catches the worm....or so I am told.

2008-07-29T22:15:00.004-04:00

I've always been a night person. The evening is my me time and it has always been the most productive and precious part of my day. The problem is that I never get enough sleep. I used to be able to easily get by on 6 hours a night. But as the years go by I am noticing that 5 and 6 hours just doesn't cut it anymore. I find it so hard to stop what I am doing and put myself to bed before midnight. So I am trying a new approach. I am going to try to make myself a morning person. I'll make myself get up at 5:30 in the morning every day until I start going to bed earlier in the evening out of shear exhaustion. Hopefully, this plan will throw me completely off my game so that my body will not realize it is 10:30 at night and I'll at last be able to fall asleep at a reasonable hour for a change.

I am totally intrigued with the concept of greeting the glorious sun as it pulls itself up over the horizon. I am certain that I will be much less smitten with the idea tomorrow morning, so wish me luck with day one of the experiment. Or maybe wish my children luck with me....they might need it more. The entry is short and sweet tonight...it's almost midnight. I'll have only 5 1/2 hours if I fall asleep RIGHT NOW. sigh.......

Stay tuned for more on the contractor front.

A girl, a dress and her Guitar Hero

2008-07-26T23:55:00.005-04:00

I had a fabulous day today. After dropping off my youngest at our friends for fun in the sun, Sienna and I went shopping for a dress for me to wear to my cousin's wedding. I needed to find a dress for a summer, evening, outdoor wedding, fitting into the category of a cocktail dress. I knew I had nothing in my closet that could work, so off to the mall we went.

I have never been one to follow the current fashion trends, or have the latest it fashion item of the season. Honestly, I was a little unsure of what combination of fabric, length, or style, even defines a cocktail dress. Sienna and I wandered in and out of stores lost as to the appropriateness of each and every item I came across. My cousin's comment of "Get something short, tight and strapless." though flattering, wasn't exactly the help I was looking for. After calling friends and family, the general consensus was that Anne Taylor wouldn't steer me wrong. Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! You were right. The sales lady brought me a beautiful dress that was perfect, and even better was 50% off. Yeah me! Now all I have left to do in the next 2 weeks is accessorize.

I felt great about the dress acquisition and headed back to my friend's house. After getting her thumbs up on the dress (Oh thank you for your fashion sense Eva), the girls and I hung out, mooched dinner and played Guitar Hero the rest of the evening. I LOVE that game. I have a feeling Santa is going to bring a Wi for Christmas and Guitar Hero will be in someone's stocking.

Take another little piece of my heart now baby....

2008-07-25T20:27:00.014-04:00

Some of you may be aware that I had to put one of my cats to sleep last week. She was 16 years old and other than the extremely debilitating arthritis that had grown worse from year to year, extraordinarily healthy. She got very bad at exactly the same time Peter was diagnosed. And in fact, had their revealing scans on the same day. I remember quite clearly speeding like a mad women down 93 from a Concord Hospital with my almost deaf husband (they forgot to give him ear plugs for the MRI) so I could get there before the vets closed. Peter unable to stand or sit comfortably at the time stayed in the car while I got the news about Katie.

It was horrible news for the cat and even worse news the next day regarding my husband. Concerns for dearest Katie understandably were set aside for the next 8 months. And after Peter's death, I was determined to not lose anymore beloved members of our family. I am a firm believer that loss when possible should be rationed out. A little water added to a boat over time is manageable, too many waves at once sweeping over your boat, filling it up, will sink it to the bottom. I was not going to let my family sink.

Now here is an excellent example of seeing only what you want to see. As a Vet Tech I saw animals with terrible injuries feigning wellness. Dogs with broken legs wagging their tails, grinning from ear to ear. Cats purring away with terminal crush injuries. Katie obviously hurt over these two years but hid her suffering, purring constantly. Despite the fact that I knew better, I refused to accept her pain choosing to see her purring "happy" self. But when it got so bad she hardly ever stood and it hurt me to watch her walk, I knew it was time. The kids were told and the deed done.

I had known it would come to this. I had hoped I would be able to give her more quality time. I had hoped to spare my kids further pain for a little longer. But hoping is living in the future, and the present reality of her suffering slapped me upside the head telling me I needed to do this. My little Hope party didn't like the present it was given. And I was pissed as hell that Peter wasn't here to help me deal with it.

Peter and I picked out Katie and one other of our cats together at the Buffalo SPCA over 16 years ago and it still seems so wrong that they had both out lived him. And not to get too teary, but it is hard to accept another piece of my past with Peter is gone.

And now for my public service announcement

Never give cats aspirin! It will kill them. They lack a special enzyme many animals have to break it down. It is extremely toxic to cats. There are a few acceptable options only available through your vet to help a cat in pain.

Project Runway and rainy days that never end

2008-07-24T22:39:00.006-04:00

I LOVE the show Project Runway. I think it is one of the best reality shows around. This years cast of designers are proving to be just as talented and interesting as previous seasons. I think Suede's constant reference to himself in 3rd person will ultimately be just as annoying as Christian's fierceness last season. But for right now I love it.

I can't believe that next season's shows will be on Lifetime instead of Bravo. Lifetime has nothing (that I know of) like this show in its line up and I can't help think that it might get lost in between all those B and C movies depicting women as perpetual victims. Bravo upset over losing the show refuses to advertise the defection which though understandable, may frustrate less die hard fans of the show.

On a completely different topic, the kids and I saw the movie Space Chimps today to escape from rainy day home bound madness. It was a terrible movie! It entertained the kids so it served it's purpose...but oh how I wish I could have sneaked out and seen the new Batman movie instead. I think tomorrow we are finally going to have a one day reprieve from all this rain. After the tornado that caused all the ruckus today up North I will be sincerely glad for the break.

A healing or a curse?

2008-07-22T18:24:00.003-04:00

Some days are just easier to bear than others. Surprisingly to me, there isn't even a correlation between good or bad things happening in a given day. Sometimes you just roll out of bed and you know it's going to be a difficult day. It's at those times I find it impossible to listen to music on the radio. I have always loved and listened to music. Perhaps it is part of the CAPD that I have struggled with through out my life, but up until recently, there were very few songs that I could make out the words enough to follow the lyrics and the storyline. For the most part I liked a song based on it's sound. I could make out some words and the sound of the music would clue me into whether it was a love song or an angry song etc.

Well sometime in the last 6 months I had a healing of sorts when something shifted inside my brain, I remember quite clearly sitting in my car, driving around doing my errands, when I realized for the first time in my life I was hearing the lyrics, and actually understanding the story line of the song. It was awesome....till I realized that some of my favorite songs that I had always loved just depressed the hell out of me. It was almost enough to make me switch to a Christian music station. Almost, but not quite :)

Anyway, on those difficult days, I can't bear to listen to music....at least 80% of the songs coming on the radio are about love and loss in every imaginable way. Parents that didn't love there children enough, unrequited love, lost love, love betrayed...the list is endless. And those upbeat moody rap songs I loved so...whoa Nellie! Glad I took peoples' words for it and never played those in the car with the kids.

(Wall E) Yes kids the end is near!

2008-07-20T21:34:00.003-04:00

Boy! Saw the movie Wall E with the kids today. What a film. Definitely entertaining, though somewhat alarmist in tone. Interesting that the author of the script claims that he had not intended to comment on the environment or scare kids into ecological responsibility. I'm not sure I buy it. Decide for yourself after viewing the clip. entended.http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-lkbqgsrRXg

The end of the movie was the funniest and MOST disturbing part of the film. After 700 years in space, hundreds of clinically obese people floating around in their lounge chairs (they are too fat to walk) on board the space craft Axiom, are jarred out of their special seats and slide/roll across the lido deck into a heap. It was the most pathetic/disturbing albeit funny thing I'd seen in a while.

In my opinion the message of the movie was clear. The world is going to Hell in a hand basket! Both girls left the theater saying "That's going to happen eventually isn't it?" I was looking for a movie to entertain, not scare my kids. Having said that, both kids and I did enjoy the movie. And you have to appreciate PIXAR's computer animation. It was a fantastic piece of work.

What's for dinner?

2008-07-18T20:46:00.008-04:00

I remember a time when eating was enjoyable and having friends
over for lunch or dinner was a simple pleasure.  While having
friends and family over is no less a pleasure, it sure can get
complicated.  When I was young, seemingly no one had food allergies.
There might have been the 1 or maybe 2 kids that were allergic
to peanuts but that was it.  And everyone could breath…I don’t
remember kids running around with inhalers or going to the nurses
for asthma medication.  (But that’s for another post)

So many people now have so many different food restrictions due to
disease, allergies or weight loss regiments, that it becomes
virtually impossible to have more than a couple people over for
a meal and meet all dietary needs.  Lets say you have a couple over
with lactose intolerance and another with Crohnes disease allergic
to shade plants, and another whose following the eat for your blood
type diet and wants everything organic…..what do you serve?  That
doesn’t even address the pickiness factor of any children involved.
My child for example as far as cheese goes, only eats Kraft
individually sliced American cheese.  I tried getting the same
cheese sliced fresh at the counter and she could taste the difference.
I even tried the individually sliced organic version and she tasted
the difference. What difference you might ask?  She could actually
taste the absence of certain preservatives present in that horrible
pre wrapped cheese.
Honestly, I don’t entertain often.  But have any of you ever felt
the added pressure when entertaining to meet everyone’s dietary
needs or do you just take it in stride?  Are the days of dinner
parties over and potluck gatherings becoming the norm where
everyone knows there will be at least one dish they will be able
to eat?

Thoughts on the Cayuga wine trail...

2008-07-15T02:12:00.008-04:00

This past weekend, as part of my cousin's bachelorette party, I took part in a wine tasting tour visiting some wineries that were part of the Cayuga wine trail in up state New York. During one of many surreal moments this past weekend, while tasting the wine, I flashed back to when Peter and I used to subscribe to Wine Enthusiast Magazine. Besides the interesting articles, we both always loved reading the reviews of the various wines in this magazine and always sought out the ones with the least points awarded to see in just what creative way the critic would describe his richly offended palette.

I dug up one of these magazines and found a few reviews I liked.

As I was reading them I had the image of what these various critics might be like at a party….summing up everyone around them in a 3 sentence quip.

“He is light, arrogant, with a touch of effervescent zeal. The top notes of intelligence and sophistication only lead to disappointment, as he is completely devoid in body and spirit. All right for a quick lay.”

“This well structured specimen of the female variety feels smooth and polished. Light in spirit with a smooth finish. An easy companion for small and large gatherings alike.”

Does anyone out there know any wine or food critics? Does their critiqing come out in other less appropriate ways? Probably no more or less then the rest of us I suppose....just a passing thought.

The Lies We Tell

2008-07-08T22:26:00.003-04:00

(Not inspirational but definitely introspective….boy it gets dark in here sometimes!)

No matter the primary orientation of our moral compass, varying levels of deception exist. Deception takes its form in the lies we tell ourselves, and the lies we tell others. The conscious ones, that help us get through each day, can be as insignificant as the face saving white lie “No dear, I don’t mind when you leave food in the sink.” and as destructive as “It’s only cheating if I get caught.”

How about the unconscious more insidious lies we tell ourselves. The ones that hit just below the surface. That unsettling feeling you have after you make a decision that you are SURE is right….How many of these decisions are merely a series of intellectual justifications slowly yet surely leading us towards an emotional death.

How can something be right, yet feel so wrong?

May we all be centered and somewhat introspective enough to get to the truth of the matter, what ever THAT may be.

Playing by the rules

2008-07-06T22:42:00.006-04:00

Scrabble and variations of it like Upwards are games that I have grown very fond of in recent years. I love words and though I have a descent vocabulary, I am a horrific speller resulting in a built in handicap. I love to play serious competitive games with those that are equally competitive. And I like to play by the rules.

I am a rule follower by nature. I know how hard it is to make rules and set boundaries in the first place and feel that when possible, rules/policies/ boundaries should be respected. I like the predictability and order they afford.

Now here is the question. What if, what you thought were the rules weren’t? And you had been playing this way for years. Having discovered the “right” way, do you try to relearn the game the way it was designed? Or do you just keep playing it the way you know and love, with others who play by your rules?

As far as the board game is concerned, when ever there is a rule question, I think the rules established by Hasbro are the ones that should be followed. But that question got me thinking on a whole other level.

In life, how often do we get caught playing by one set of rules, only to find that they have been rewritten? Sometimes I have felt like the whole game itself has been swapped out and here I am with my tiles, while everyone else is playing cards.

Is this a feeling anyone else can appreciate?

Just a a day....

2008-07-05T22:32:00.005-04:00

Just a day.....nothing exciting. I wanted to stay home and have a lazy day today but the children had other plans. "What are we going to do today?" they asked. Always the pressing question in the summer months.

I forgot to have any coffee today and had a wicked headache by the afternoon. Arghhhhh. After receiving a last minute invite to my neighbors birthday celebration I popped an ibuprofen and went next door to the birthday party shin dig.

The kids got to swim and play on the trampoline(...a home owners insurance agency nightmare as far as I'm concerned) and had loads of fun. I mingled with the family and guests...got some free advice about my window leak....(mold situation) and had a descent time.

I Need to get my house in order before I leave for my cousins bachelorette party this weekend. Thanks to a friend of mine they will have a friends and a pool to occupy their time tomorrow, leaving me free to get work done!

It feels wonderful to have a long weekend....

Not so subliminal advertising and fireworks (Why I want a Big Gulp NOW!)

2008-07-04T22:37:00.015-04:00

What a wonderful 4th of July! We spent a relaxing day catching up with old friends as well as new ones. Having missed the local fireworks display the past 2 years, we decided to head on into town for the celebratory lighting of the night sky.

A certain amount of investigative work was done before a meeting place was chosen. However, our sources were mistaken, and the fireworks were set off in a completely different location than previous years. Fortunately, we were still able to turn our chairs and see the fireworks fairly well, with the exception of the 7 eleven sign smack in front of them.

It was a great show, though they took the unusual approach of what appeared to be 3 separate finales. It was genius really. Every year, at the end of the show people pack everything up as quick as they can, run to their cars and try to get out as quickly as possible to avoid the traffic. So after what appeared to be the finale the first time, a few cars started to leave. After a minute a second huge display of finale like fireworks was set off and again people left thinking that was it. But a minute later they set off a bunch more. The end effect was slightly frustrating, a lot of fun, and certainly helped ease the congestion of traffic.

And after staring at that fireworks display for 15 minutes or so....I'm just so craving a Big Gulp...

Who didn't have a livingroom like this in the 70s....minus the cartoon characters that is.

2008-07-03T20:20:00.006-04:00

I was looking at some other blogs and found this guy's stuff. Loved the picture....Liked the idea of the cereal cartoon characters reuniting after years gone by...realizing a little to late that the old magic was indeed gone.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

One step closer.

2008-07-01T18:33:00.006-04:00

For those of you following the ongoing mold saga, a wonderful new development has occurred. The source of water has been discovered. After removing the electric baseboard heater and more of the drywall (Thank you Paul for all your help.) we were able to visualize dripping water coming in through what appears to be a separation of the caulk surrounding the outside of the window. A simple fix. :)

The picture to the right is of the dead carpenter ants...also molding ...sigh.

However, in my search for the water source, I discovered that independent of the mold fiasco, I really do need a new roof. :( So I am pricing out different roofs. After the roof ... the leach field. It's all a work in progress.

A study in contrasts

2008-06-30T23:47:00.005-04:00

The open expanse of the South West supports a panoramic view out to the horizon, as far as the eye can see. (redundancy...boy it is late...) Some people feel openness and exhilaration, where the sand and dirt meet the sky in painted plateaus. There is so little to hide behind, so little protection. It’s hot, dry and unforgiving, yet beautiful in its sharp contrasts. Everything feels exposed.

The austerity and strength of the landscape offer the world up in sacrifice. “Take it all!” it seems to cry. Never without direction one starts down the road fully informed not only knowing where they are heading, but with equal ability to look back at where they have been. No excuses. Period!

The North East is a study of contrast as well and affords its drama, first by way of its changing seasons. They provide constant opportunities to challenge our sensibilities. I experience it all, the hot, the cold, the lush green protectiveness of summer foliage, the bare it all bleakness of an overcast winter day, as well as the transition seasons of autumn and spring preparing me for both extremes. These seasons offer comfort at the very least, by their certain predictability. The landscape plays its role in the drama as well. The NE’s unfolding foliage provides protectiveness along with its beauty and warmth. Even in the winter cold, the trees’ skeletal branches seem somehow able to keep the sky at bay.

I might not be able to see what’s coming, even if it’s just over the next hill in the NE, but I can duck and cover when necessary. The weight of the sky won’t crash down on me. I can’t easily see things coming from far away like the SW and get to experience it all bit by bit, enjoying each morsel along the way, because I'm not wasting time looking behind or wondering what’s coming down the road. (If there is even one that continues around the next bend of trees.)

How much of our personality comes into play when deciding where to live? How much does where we live, shape our personality? Or do we just gravitate to what is most familiar?

Why do I stay up late at night thinking about this stuff when I should be asleep?

Too young to be old

2008-06-23T18:43:00.010-04:00

Yesterday, George Carlin…died at the age of 71. My Dad always appreciated his humor. And his mark on the world of Comedy surely will live on.

Living to 71, though perhaps not young, just doesn’t seem that old to me. We all go through life believing we‘ll have more time. We know that we’ll have to die at some point but that day is certainly not today, tomorrow, or for years to come. I certainly don’t feel middle aged. My friends have had children into their 40s, yet are statistically middle aged? I still feel like I’m 25 regardless of what my physical body reflects. So the older I get, the further my definition of “old” shifts. Would it be a gift or a curse to KNOW how much time we had in the world?

Thank goodness our future is a mystery.

The Law of Attraction

2008-06-21T22:06:00.000-04:00

The Law of Attraction in its most simplified definition, “like attracts like” is an interesting and seductive idea. It offers the illusion of control over my present lot in life and an ability to shape my future. All I have to do is embody that desire. Wine it. Dine it. Hold it close to my heart and believe it to be possible and it is mine to manifest.

If only it could be that simple.

What ever I am focused on is what I see and in that sense I do create my reality. For example, when I got a new car I became hyper aware of all cars around me of the same make and model. It seemed like they were everywhere, though I had never noticed it before. After Peter’s diagnosis it seemed that everyone around me was coming down with cancer. That wasn’t the reality though. It was just a byproduct of where my focus lay. Maybe it should be called the law of focus.

Even then it doesn’t even take into account the freedom we gain from embracing that which we most fear. When I push something away it just seems to bring it more power. Even pain works on this principle.

With the birth of my oldest…I experienced the worst physical pain of my life. I can still to this day remember with vivid clarity the pain and feeling as if I were in fact dying. The pain was agonizing and I fought it every step of the way. What a vicious negative feedback loop I created.

With my second pregnancy we decided to try hypnobirthing. Now, I have too many control issues to have been able to get the full benefit of that technique, but WOW what a difference it made learning how to embrace the pain and meet it instead of railing against it. It hurt, but incredibly, it was completely manageable. So in embracing the pain, accepting it, in a sense focusing on it, not only did I not manifest more pain but diminished it.

Compassion is complicated...

2008-06-20T14:30:00.004-04:00

So I am reading an article in Newsweek about oncologists and their patients. The article talks about the importance that compassion plays in the quality of care a patient receives. The article is filled with statements from patients who were grateful for their doctors’ attitudes and felt encouraged by them. I automatically think back to my experience with Peter’s doctors. Having experienced both indifference and caring attitudes through my husband’s illness, I feel I have a unique perspective.

Peter’s cancer was found after getting an MRI for a suspected slipped disk. A day later, we got a call from the Orthopedist in Concord, stating that though his spine was fine, they had discovered a pelvic mass. The doctor gave us the name of a surgeon in Boston after informing us that there was no specialist in the state of NH that dealt with this type of thing (our first clue that this might be something serious). He apologized for doing this over the phone but that he was going on vacation and needed to tell us before he left and then hung up. This conversation took maybe 2 min….and only after my husband hung up the phone did we realize how little information we had. All the Dr. said was pelvic mass. Was it suspected to be benign? Was it a malignant cancer? He didn’t say how big it was or whether that was indeed the source of Peter’s pain etc. It took over 2 weeks to get an appointment with the orthopedic surgeon at Brigham and Williams Hospital.

On the day of our appointment, after waiting most of the morning to be seen, (you are forced to be patient when you are a patient), we were finally put into an exam room where there was a computer (delightful how the medical profession has embraced technology) displaying Peter’s pelvic x ray. The monitor had been left on by accident I am sure. Up till this point we knew nothing , had been given no details and had felt only an inkling of the seriousness of our situation. Having a medical background and much experience with taking, developing, and reading x rays, I found myself staring in horror at THIS x ray, trying desperately to come up with some alternative explanation as to why half of Peter’s pelvis was missing. I instinctively KNEW what I was seeing but couldn’t bring my self to believe it, nor had I the strength to explain what I thought I was seeing. Now if this wasn’t bad enough….we were left to wait yet again for over an hour…just the three of us, Peter, myself and this horrible x ray. So we sat and made small talk ,trying to ignore it. At one point Peter said “Wonder why we can’t see part of my pelvis there?” I said in a wishful tone staring at the floor, that perhaps the mass was in front of it, blocking it’s view.

It was pure torture waiting for the specialist. But finally he showed and very detachedly and plainly told us about the tumor. It was the size of a grapefruit. It had invaded and eaten away, literally, replaced a significant portion of his pelvis. It was an extremely rare and aggressive type of Sarcoma. It had a high rate of metastasis and that he hadn’t seen a case where the tumor was this large and hadn’t already spread. So an entire body scan was necessary. Now truthfully, I don’t mind when a surgeon lacks a bedside manner. I want a surgeon who is calm cool and collected. I want him to be decisive and confident to the point of arrogance as to his ability. So any lack of compassion on his part is forgiven in my mind. The x ray snafu, though certainly not compassionate, was hopefully a simple mistake.

So now enters Peter’s oncologist. We had a surreal moment at our first meeting. After simple introductions Peter with his charming big grin and determinedly positive attitude said “So… what’s the plan?” The Dr. dramatically took off his glasses, fell down in his chair, put his head in his hands and in a defeated tone said “I don’t know. I don‘t know. I just don‘t know.” Peter and I looked at each other, horrified by his reaction. Now maybe it’s me, but that type of bedside manner didn’t just lack compassion, it was cruel. I mean, how can you have confidence in a Dr who has admitted his defeat before even entering into the battle? SO I knick named him Eeyore. He treated Peter with no hope or expectation of his survival. I would have changed Dr.‘s but Peter decided to see past his defeatist nature. I remember when we asked Eeyore if he thought another round of chemo might shrink the tumor more. He merely shrugged his shoulders with a bemused smile and said he didn’t think it would make much of a difference but that we could if we wanted to. The subtext in my opinion was that it was a lost cause either way.

I remember going back to the Surgeon with the results of Peter’s scans and how surprised he was to see that they were clean and that the tumor, despite its size seemed to be completely contained. That is when I dared to hope that Peter’s case might be the exceptional one. For some unexplained reason his body had been able to contain this cancer and would keep doing so till he got his surgery. I had always felt that he had led this sort of charmed life and though as horrible as this experience was, I now dared hope he would pull through.

That brings me to the next chapter of the story. We decided to pursue a second opinion from another excellent orthopedic surgeon at MD Anderson in Houston TX. The surgery Peter was to require was radical to say the least. The choices were between an internal or external radical hemi pelvectomy. And Yes it is as bad as it sounds. So we wanted a second opinion. I can’t say enough good things about MD Anderson. They were professional, friendly, optimistic, and COMPASSIONATE! Unfortunately he took a turn for the worse during our visit and we ended up staying there to continue receiving treatment. His new oncologist was refreshingly lovely, gentle, and encouraging in manner. She wasn‘t going to give up on us! But in the end, those very qualities were largely responsible for even more pain and suffering.

I think a compassionate attitude can take many forms. What is perceived as compassionate depends on where the patient is emotionally as well as physically.. In the beginning, so much of our energy went toward fighting the doctors’ negative attitudes. Then at the end, we were encouraged to fight fight fight! and deny the painful reality that despite our best efforts, the end was coming. I wish we had found the optimistic doctors in the beginning and the realists at the end of his illness, who could recognize when it was indeed time to give up. There is such a fine line to walk between providing hope to a patient and their family, and knowing when to encourage acceptance of the end. To engage in a truly compassionate doctor patient relationship one needs to consider both the patients’ emotional and physical limitations and also be able to answer the question; at what point is it appropriate to stop encouraging a person to fight for their life and embrace and plan for a “good “ death.

If that even exists.

Subtext

2008-06-19T21:02:00.001-04:00

Is it a useful skill reading into the subtext of a conversation? Is it an ability to be cultivated or extinguished? There seems to be a certain arrogance to it....reading between the lines of what a person is saying, drawing inferences that in actuality may be completely invalid. Unless there is a general mistrust of the other person's ability to directly communicate, should it even be necessary. Perhaps in the inevitable void created by things left unsaid, one can't help but to try and attribute meaning, whether it exists or not.

I also wonder if it isn't a little passive aggressive to expect a person to understand the motivating force lying beneath a conversation and to read between the lines.

It is finished

2008-06-18T09:18:00.004-04:00

So, here is the thing...It's one thing to screw something up and disappoint yourself...it is an entirely different thing to screw up and disappoint someone you love. And in this case I paid the price with my self respect.

Since Peter passed, there are days, weeks even where I kinda float through my day in a bit of a fog. I get overwhelmed with all that I need/have/want to do. Balancing the kids needs with my own is a constant struggle and I have no one now to share that burden with. I tend to put their needs ahead of mine and that's where Dana's dance class comes into the picture.

I put Dana back in dance class the summer after Peter died. She still enjoyed it and I wanted to keep everything as normal as possible...so off I went every week. The thing is, that the last event Peter got to do with us as a family was going to her dance recital in June. He had been in horrible pain sitting through the recital and I could hardly pay attention my self with my worry over him. As a result, bad memories associated with dance stay with me. Attending the recital is always highly emotional.

So Dana did dance again this year. It was a larger class and made up of many Moms with young kids/babies. It was crowded and noisy and just unpleasant waiting for her to be done with class each week. Sienna needed to sit there and do her homework, forcing me to sit there as well and listen to many of these women complain about their husbands, when all I wanted to do was slap them upside the head and tell them to thank their lucky stars their husbands were alive and healthy.

I hated going each week to say the least. Sometimes I would block it out and just forget to go...And now we get to the meat and potatoes of the story! I FORGOT TO GO TO THE DRESS REHEARSAL! Now this is a huge mistake. It is clearly stated in the agreement with the studio that attendance in the recital is contingent on attending the dress rehearsal. I screwed up big time and now my daughter was going to be punished for my mistake. I was to see her instructor the next day for class and hoped I could persuade her to make an exception. Well I got a phone call that next morning from her teacher, who proceeded to verbally accost me. Now you have to understand I have never had any interaction of significance with the instructor over the past 3 years. Our exchanges have always been pleasant and unremarkable. Even so, you get a general feeling about a person and I never would have expected in a million years the exchange that was to take place. I felt like a deer in the head lights being repeatedly rammed by an SUV. I was very apologetic and showed the appropriate contrition given the egregious mistake I had made, yet nothing I said seemed to satisfy her. How many times in how many ways can you say you are sorry and that you really messed up? I cried, I begged, she just kept repeating over and over her policy that if you don't attend the rehearsal you can't be in the show. After 20 minutes of this I finally said "Look is there some other way I should be apologizing? (was she looking for a bribe?) At that point she must of felt she extracted her pound of flesh and that I had suffered enough. I can only imagine how stressed she was getting ready for the show...but come on. I allowed my self to be the punching bag she needed to get out her frustrations, and gave her the power trip over deciding Dana's fate, I guess she needed to feel in control that's for sure. And all for the price of my dignity and self respect. Boy she made out real well in that exchange.

If this wouldn't have affected Dana I would have had it out with her. She just wanted to beat someone up. If she wasn't going to let her in the show she could have simply called and stated her policy, express her disappointment and be done in under 3 min. She knew she was going to let her be in it, but wanted to make me suffer first. BUT I AM DONE! FINISHED! NEVER will I do DANCE CLASS again!!!!!!

yeah me.

When does the big guy rest?

2008-06-17T01:30:00.000-04:00

One day, god said "Let there be water behind Kirsten's walls." and deemed it good. On the subsequent days he manifested mold and also was pleased. But not feeling all was complete in his creation, carpenter ants were brought into the equation. Then smiling down on his creation, rested in the knowledge that I was, indeed screwed.

Ok pitty party over. I have the knowldge and ability to fix it...just disapointed at the inconveience of it all. Got to flirt with my favorite Home Depot guy when I picked up the drywall. Just goes to show there is always an upside to any event, sometimes it just takes a lot of searching to discover it.

A long time coming

2008-05-24T15:30:00.002-04:00

So I am going through the letters I sent to Peter back in the day... Each one is like a mini time capsule. I am reading about events and situations that obviously were very important to me at the time, but now I can't even recall the event. Amazing the power of the passing of time. I have forgotten so much in just 15 years. How does ones brain decide what memories stay burned forever in our brain and which ones fade into oblivion?

Why do I have vivid recall of inconsequential mundane events, like Peter and I going for a drive one random Saturday, but can't recall the event I was so excited to tell him about that I had to write him a letter? What will I remember or forget 15 years from now? How do you live in the present, without losing the past?

Why are there so many dead skunks anyway?

2007-10-05T14:30:00.001-04:00

Somehow, today, the question seemed very profound. My daughter asked this question as we drove off to school the other morning. I told her there weren't more dead skunks than any other type of animal in the road. Yet she insisted she didn't notice any other dead animals in the road other than the stinky skunks. Subsequent mornings as we zoomed past a dozen or so squashed chimpmunks, squirls, and woodchucks, (which I tried pointing out to her as proof the skunk was an occasional occurence) all she noticed were the skunks.

I started thinking to my self that is so much like life....why do we always focus on and remember all the bad (stinky) stuff and seem to ignore the rest? How often do we stop and notice how great the grass smells after it's been freshly cut or how the ground smells after a warm spring rain? Our brains seem to be wired to flag with extra importance the negative and to only give a cursory glance to the positive. I must not allow myself to take all the good things for granted!

A bad CSI Episode.

2007-09-29T21:21:00.001-04:00

Why are police officers so darn cute?... anyway....After going to sleep at around 1:00pm Friday night, I woke up at the sound of my doorbell. It was pitch black out and hardly 5:30 in the morning. All I could think about was getting to the door before who ever it was rang the doorbell again and woke up the kids. There standing before me, quite uncomfortably, was my next door neighbor trying to inform me in my sleepy state of consciousness that the rear window of my car had been smashed in. So much for street parking!

I parked my car in the driveway for the rest of the night and went back to sleep. The next morning I called in to report the vandalism, knowing I would need to make a report for my insurance to follow up on. When the police arrive, I am in the middle of trying to clean up all the shards of glass and such....(the such being all the rest of the crap floating around my car ) The two officers are discussing possible scenarios as to how the window got broken, as up to this point I hadn't found the weapon of choice. They started looking inside the car and started tracing the trajectory of the surmised rock by following the path of the ripped upholstery...and their best guess put the rock in the passenger side.

Sure enough, after moving several layers of school papers and such (I've already addressed the "such") there, was said piece of granite. The officers were so pleased with themselves. That's when it got a little rediculous...It was obviously a simple case of vandalism...well obvious to me anyway. They ask me if anyone might have a grudge against me. "Maybe a neighbor?" I said no I get along with all my neighbors and that it was through the kindness of a neighbor that I discovered the whole incident in the first place. What is it about the justice system always trying to blame the victim...Wah wah wah, but really...They just can't leave it be. "Are you sure?" they ask me. "A disgruntled boyfriend perhaps?" Now I am thinking about all these sarcastic comments....they are just running through my head like..."Oh yes I think this must have been a sign from the spirit of my dead husband pissed as hell over my spending too much money fixing up my bathroom." I thought that might sound a little flipant so I just gravely nodded and said "Well if there is someone who did this to send me a message they should have wrapped the rock with note because the gesture was lost on me."