I Mock You With My Monkey Pants

I was watching "Buffy The Vampire Slayer" tonight and this bit of dialogue CRACKED ME UP!! This is why I love the show so much.  I couldn't find a video clip, so I just put the dialogue up...Oz is a guy who goes to school with Buffy. Willow is one of Buffy's good friends and she and Oz are attracted to each other and this is one of their first exchanges.

Oz on Animal crackers
from What's My Line Part 2 (Season 2) 

OZ: Oh, hey! Animal cracker?

WILLOW: No, thank you. How's your arm?

OZ: Suddenly painless.

WILLOW: You can still play the guitar okay?

OZ: Oh, not well, but not worse.

WILLOW: Y'know, I never really thanked you.

OZ: Ooo, yeah, please don't. I don't do thanks. I get all red. Have to bail. It's not pretty.

WILLOW: Well, then forget that thing. E-especially with the part where I kind of owe you my life.

OZ: Oh, look! Monkey! And he has a little hat. And little pants.

WILLOW: Yeah, I-I see!

OZ: The monkey's the only cookie animal that gets to wear clothes, you know that? You have the sweetest smile I've ever seen. So, I'm wondering, do the other cookie animals feel sorta ripped? Like, is the hippo going, 'Hey, man, where are *my* pants? I have my hippo dignity!' And you know the monkey's just, (with a French accent) 'I mock you with my monkey pants!' And there's a big coup in the zoo.

WILLOW: The monkey is French?

OZ: All monkeys are French. You didn't know that?

Daffodils, Jonquils or Narcissus?

Over the weekend, I was flipping through the channels and I found a gardening show on OPB. They were talking about daffodils - one of my favorite flowers - so I left it on channel 10.3 (I love that CREATE channel!) and watched the show. Normally, gardening isn't my thing - too much dirt and too many bugs...but daffodils. The guy was talking about how there are so many different kinds of daffodils and how people call them different names. Huh? Different names for daffodils? Well, yes, as a matter of fact. Apparently, the latin name for daffodils is narcissus.  And some kinds of daffodils (I read about it - it is some kind of scientific Division thing) are considered jonquils and some are not.  All of this and my drive to work this morning made me remember one of my favorite Roby memories...

In April or May of 1986, we finally got Roby away from his evil boyfriend.  This was the man we later found out had AIDS and had passed it along to Roby and a number of other young men in the Portland area.

The night he moved out of G.'s apartment, Roby and I went to my house to bake “break up” cookies. They were some of the best sugar cookies I have EVER had – he stirred them by hand and the creaming of the shortening and the sugar allowed him to get all of his frustrations and anger out. Once the last of the cookies had been cooled and packaged, we went out to the car so I could drive him home - he lived in downtown Portland at the time. I had borrowed my mother's car -  a brown grenada at the time – a big boat of a car with a glow-in-the-dark sticker that said “Lose Weight Now – Ask Me How” from Herbalife with a phone number on it. As we were driving up the hill to get onto the freeway, Roby spotted some daffodils growing on the side of the road (at a car dealership).

“Pull over – I want to pluck one.” At that point, I would have done anything to cheer him up. We pulled over and plucked some daffodils. We started at midnight and followed the daffodil trail ALL around the area. I was starting to get a little nervous, even though I thought it was really funny, as well. We ended up plucking daffodils from every house, driveway and business from Beaverton to Portland. One hill in a cute little neighborhood near a park had daffodils all over it and at the very top, one lone iris. Roby left a little clump of daffodils on the hill and the poor iris. I drove by the hill the next year and a few years after and they never had daffodils there again - other flowers, but no daffodils. (It was worth it to see him smile.)

Once we were satiated with daffodil stealing (eventually, I freaked out because of the whole glow-in-the-dark phone number thing), we dropped daffodils off at the homes of many of our friends. Even then, we had 2-3 vases full of daffodils left, which we both gifted our mothers with. They both said, “I don’t even want to know where these came from.”

It was the first of many nights I spent trying to heal his heartache and one of my fondest memories - the sweet smell of the flowers, the PILE of flowers in the back seat and the return of my best friend after a long, very bad relationship.

P.S. I tried to insert a photo of a daffodil in this but the Blogger-in-Draft has limited where I can pull pictures and it won't let me pull from MY OWN COMPUTER!! Grr. I will figure it out.

Clarification on "Real Life"

I have been thinking about my post from yesterday quite a bit. Not sure why.

I guess I wanted to clarify what I was talking about.  Or something like that.

I don't think that the only meaningful times in our lives are end of life or when someone is sick.  What I meant to say is that I get caught up in some of the insignificant things instead of choosing to focus on what I care about - my family, my friends, being a good person, finding joy in life.  It is easy to get distracted from all of that and things like Eva's blog or memories of Roby remind me that it isn't just about the spreadsheet I didn't finish at work or the scratch on my car door.

I don't know if that makes any sense. I guess I should stop trying to write it down...the whole blog is about that, anyway.  That's why I come here, make my art journal, learn photography, read, take classes, love musicals. I guess this is the place where I think about and write about "sucking the marrow out of life" (is that Whitman or just a quote from "Dead Poet's Society"?  I will have to check).

Anyway, it was bothering me that maybe I said something that I didn't mean exactly.  I know I haven't really cleared anything up here, but at least I tried.  Good intentions count for something...

This is Real Life

This is real life. Go read the blog, look at the photos, watch the video.

When I started reading the blog, I felt a physical pull and when I close my eyes, I can see the hospital waiting room where Roby was. Through my tears for Eva, I wished that blogging and laptops and this constant recording of our lives had been around back then.  I have vivid memories of the days and nights we spent, watching, waiting.  We didn't take pictures.  Only a few. Roby didn't want people to think of him sick.

When I measure the days and times and value of life sometimes, I measure it against the condensed life of having an ill person in my life. Everything is stronger and longer and shorter and the meaning is distilled. Emotionally, I was more myself than at any other time in my life - I was doing the thing I was meant to do in the world. It is an incredible honor and an amazing and heartbreaking opportunity.

I keep reminding myself that I don't have to wait, to try to live strong every day. It is hard to remember daily. It is harder to practice that kind of mindfulness daily.  It is the only way to really live.  As I send out a prayer for Eva and her family, I send her thanks for helping remind me, again, that life is precious and I shouldn't forget it.  Thanks to Patti for posting this today.

Stop, Drop and Roll

 This will probably seem out of left field, but I have been thinking about this recently.  They show people on TV catching fire or running out of burning buildings and whatnot and I always think to myself, "Hey - Stop, drop and roll, buddy!"  I don't know if they still teach that technique to kids, but I think it EVERY TIME.

 Here is a little clip from a local TV news channel that I found on YouTube. I expected to find some old 1970s video, but I didn't see anything like that in my search.

Scared Me to the Core

I watched "Jamie Oliver's Food Revolution" tonight.  Jamie Oliver went to Huntington, WV - a town that was statistically called the most unhealthy city in America based on levels of obesity, diabetes, heart disease, early deaths, etc.  It is a timely show and just fascinating to watch how people react to change.  There were, however, a couple of parts that were SHOCKING.  I don't think this had anything to do with where they were filming - my mom is from WV, so I don't have a bias, I don't think they are hillbillies or anything of the sort.  I think these issues would show up everywhere if anyone took the time to look...

Shocking Item #1:  Jamie Oliver went into the kids classrooms to get them excited about eating fresh food and he dressed up as a giant pea pod.  The kids did not know what his costume was supposed to be.  He was surprised by that, so he went into a first grade classroom and decided to test the students and their knowledge about vegetables.  When I was their age, I might not have been able to identify an eggplant, but I know for sure that I could identify tomatoes, potatoes and cauliflower.  And I knew that french fries were potatoes.  I was just stunned - kids couldn't identify TOMATOES.

Shocking item #2:  The school withheld SILVERWARE from the kids - they only got a spoon...ever.  When Jamie suggested they would need knives and forks, the kitchen staff and principal of the school were like, "What for?"  Ummm...to eat with?  The school has a student body of about 450 kids ages 4-10 years.  When they did provide the silverware (they weren't sure there would be enough), the kids literally didn't know how to use it...6 years didn't know how to use a butterknife.  Now, granted, the kids wouldn't necessarily be GOOD at it, but they should know what a knife is and how it is supposed to be used.

What are we doing?  I just don't get why people have kids if they don't want to nurture and teach and guide them into being human beings who are independent, self-actualized, able to handle themselves in public...I mean, for goodness sake!

So, all of this reminds me of a radio story I heard where they were trying to bring up afternoon scores - the kids in this one elementary school seemed to be having a high rate of illness in the afternoon, the kids were not learning or retaining information. So, someone came in and asked them to change the lunch and recess times around.  Originally, the school ushered kids into the lunch room to eat, then afterwards 15 minutes of recess. When they changed and had the kids go out for recess first, then come in for lunch, they noted that kids ate more of their lunches, they were better able to attend and learn in the afternoon and they had a significant drop in visits to the school nurse in the afternoons.  It is so simple sometimes - and it doesn't cost anything to have recess first. Let the kids burn off some energy, get hungry, get their "stuff" out, THEN bring them in to eat. It makes perfect sense.

Sometimes I get very scared of the world we are building.

It's Not About YOU, Silly!

It is hard to be in a position to see people feeling hurt and vulnerable, to sometimes be the cause of it, even indirectly, and not be able to resolve the issues.  It is tough to know that people question your integrity, your fairness, your desire to do right by everyone. It is challenging to let people have their feelings and opinions and not take on that energy directed at you but not AT YOU.  It is hard not to take it personally.

It is not personal. When you stand between danger and the nearest escape route, you are going to get run over. That's a fact. And it doesn't matter who you are or how good your relationships seem to be.  It's not about you, silly.

Today, I had a hard time remembering that.  Tomorrow is Friday and that is a very, very good thing.

Back to the Beginning Buffy

I went back to Season 1 of "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" recently.  I like to watch an episode before bed. It sometimes takes me a few days to get through an episode though because I always fall asleep.  Tonight, I finally finished the final episode of Season 1 after about a week of starting it.


I am listening to Cibo Matto singing "Sugar Water" from the second episode of Season 2. Some great music, David Boreanez' breakout role, Alyson Hannigan, Sarah Michelle Gellar - the whole crew is great.

If you have never watched "BTVS", you don't know what you are missing. Joss Whedon is brilliantly funny and as I watch the episodes for probably the 20th time, I still see and hear new stuff all the time (when I'm awake).  I know I have waxed poetic about the show before, but this was on my mind tonight. It was my escape from the 11:00pm news (see yesterday's post).

Letter to Local News Media

Dear Local TV Newscasters and their Masters:

I have always been a regular evening news viewer.  I usually take in some news before prime time (if I'm home from work) and almost always watch the 11:00pm news and sometimes Nightline (not since the format change, though).  Over the past decade, I have become disillusioned and miss more and more nightly news casts.  This topic comes up with my conservative and liberal friends and colleagues alike - the news is just not the news anymore.

Daily, I am more and more thankful for the internet and for the myriad other paths to actual news.  If it weren't for alternative outlets for news and other pertinent information, I would think that every event in America, nay, the world had a "Portland or NW Connection". Additionally, I would never be able to go to another local restaurant because of the disgusting and sensationalized restaurant "reviews" that you show on a regular basis. I don't want to see stories on bedbugs for days and days in a row - show the story and move on for the love of Pete.

It is a little sad to see the old time newscasters reading the hideous and unfortunate "news" scripts and engage in uncomfortable banter.  I can almost see them flinching when they have to go from a bombing to an invasive infotainment segment.  I'm not sure why they stand for the disrespectful handling of the audience and the embarrassing way they insert themselves into the news stories.  Please stop forcing the newscasters to chat with each other - I don't care what they think about health care or Tiger Woods or the weather in California.

One newscaster, in particular, is on my DISLIKE list for her pretentious attitude and ingratiating manner.  Her interviews with some of the most vile criminals in the state and her "closeness and friendship" with some of the victims and their families has been such a turnoff that I simply cannot watch this person read any kind of news.

Please note that your "teaser" commercials really only serve to chase me to a different channel. Mostly, I just turn the TV off.  So, I don't watch Leno, Letterman or Kimmel, either.  I'm not sure the national stations know this, but perhaps they should...maybe that will be the next letter I write.

Respectful of my own time and sanity,

Jean

Well, That Won't Work

I was going to give you the Top 10 Most Played Songs in my iPod, but I left it in my car and it is too late for me to go out and get it as I am already in my pajamas.  I thought maybe I could recreate it, but I only know the most recent album I have been listening to on it, so that one is going to have to wait.

I couldn't settle on a writing prompt either, even though I went here to get one. It all just seemed too profound or too pretentious for me at this time of night.  I have a bunch of ideas for things, but I wasn't in the mood for any of them.

Today, all day, I have been freezing cold.  When I mentioned it to someone at work, they looked at me as if my head was on fire and said, "Are you sick?" because I am not usually cold AND because, apparently, it had been warm in the office all day but I hadn't really noticed.  When I got home today, I wrapped up in a blanket and put some blankets on my feet - you know when you get really cold in the winter and you heap blankets on until they are so heavy you can feel the weight of them pressing down?  Like that. I took a nap and when I woke up, I could tell that my feet were warm on the outside, but I am still cold.

So, I'm going back to my mummy wrap to warm up. I think it is just exhaustion catching up with me.  I do pretty well in a crisis, but then you have to mop me up afterwards.

Eclectic Sunday

Looked at some Broadway blogs - not sure why, but that led to more Broadway blogs and a longing to go to NYC and see some shows.

Worked on my art journal - no completed pages, but attempted to jump back into it...I feel like I forgot how to do it. Isn't that silly?

Watched a "Friends" marathon while I was doing other stuff today. Finally, took a nap once I got past the one where Ross and Rachel kiss (I don't know the actual name of the episode).

Watched "Undercover Boss" from tonight - It is almost like watching "Extreme Makeover: Home Improvement" - people are really amazing and their stories are equally moving. So far, of the ones I have seen, the CEOs are good guys. I guess the CEOs who aren't interested in what is happening with their employees and in their business don't go on shows like this...I guess that is the trick, but still, I like it.

Themeless Saturday

A blog without a theme...I'm not so good at that, especially when things are stressful. Then I just get whiny and complainy and then I approach the blog with trepedation because I haven't thought of anything new to say.

I bought a book of lists, but some of the lists are lists I just don't care about or that I'm not willing to put online.  I tried randomly opening it to a list but I kept coming up with either lists I have done before or lists that I have no interest in.

April is Poetry month, so I will be looking for poetry to post then, but right now...no theme.

So, for lack of a theme, here is a randomly chosen list:

List what was under your bed as a child.

Well, when I was a child, I had two methods - one was NOTHING under the bed because that way, the bugs had nowhere to hide.  I was pretty sure that all kinds of bugs came into the house and would climb up the stuff under the bed, jump onto the bottom of the mattress and march up and around and onto the bed to terrify me in the night. I'm not sure why it never occurred to me that if they really wanted to, they could climb up the bedposts and get on the bed anyway. I guess because I was 6 and logic doesn't really enter into childhood terrors.

The other under the bed method was to cram everything I owned under the bed so that the bugs couldn't get through.

Mostly, I didn't keep stuff under the bed.  I kept every stuffed animal I owned on my bed before we moved to Germany (when I was 6 years old). I would tuck the stuffed animals under the blanket all the way around the mattress.  Then I would climb in but there was barely enough room for me, so if I got up in the night, I would often not come back to bed because I couldn't get the arrangement back in the dark. This was also bug evasion. I was particularly afraid of ants. I used to have dreams of multitudes of multi-colored ants marching across the floor and the wall and I would wake terrified and go sit on the chair next to my parents bed until I fell asleep.

Anyway, not really much of a list, but some funny little tidbits I remember from my childhood.

Perspective is Everything

I was driving home yesterday and the thought occurred to me that I was tired of living as if every day the other shoe would drop - lots of work stuff, health stuff - just feeling like I'm always under the gun and feeling the pressure of it.  Then, I'm not sure how or why, but I realized that I had sort of goldfished my life (yes, I know, not a real phrase - go with me here).

Goldfish grow to the size of the environment they are in...

It made me think about the reality of things...When I was 18, my best friend found out he had HIV.  For the next 10 years, we lived as if the next day would be the last. THAT is pressure.  But when you live in a small box, a work box, and you see the same people every day and you don't really see the world or your impact in it, it is easy to feel like what is happening to the box is THE REALITY.  It is, and it isn't.

When I worked as a freelance interpreter, I had a level of perspective that is sometimes lacking in the life I live now - I saw different people each day, from all walks of life, facing different life issues - from the ridiculous to the profound.  Dealing with the profound daily in my formative adult years, I felt like I could appreciate all the levels in between.  Now, the problems of the day often feel profound, but when I take a step back, I realize that they are just problems - not easy ones, certainly, but no one died from them.

I don't know why, but remembering my own past - not the details or a specific story, but just the global reality of what Roby and I experienced as young people, it helped me put things into perspective this week.  It made me think that these issues are going to be fleeting and I will walk out the other side a better person than I was before - stronger.

I don't know if that makes any sense...I guess it is late and it is Friday, so it will have to be good enough for the time being.

Introspection in the Spotlight

I realized a couple of days ago that I lost the thread of what I was doing here a little while ago. I think because I was trying so many things - the Next Chapter group (which I enjoyed and miss), the Artist's Way group, and a few other things.  I have been doing the art journal and all kinds of stuff, but I feel like I started losing touch with the reason I started writing here...

I can't really put my finger on it, but I think I just got self-conscious.  A couple of days ago, I couldn't think of anything to write and I realized that I was feeling a little bit mannered or coy or something.  When I thought about it, I realized how absurd it is to feel shy or uncomfortable - um, hi!  You are writing on the internet.  If I felt shy or inhibited, maybe I should pick a less public place to write my thoughts.

That is one of the reasons I'm so excited to go to the workshop I talked about in yesterday's post.  I want to write some of the stories of my life and my life with Roby.  I have been looking at all these creative endeavors as the jumping off place, but really, that place is just here.  I jumped off a long time ago and I just need to stick to it.  All the other participation is fine but I just need to be brave enough to just tell myself the truth.  Sometimes that is the hardest thing. (Not about anything in particular - just get back to it...)

On an entirely different note, I want to go on the record saying that I was totally wrong about Ashton Kucher. I really like him. He's not my new boyfriend, but I think he is really good.  I think he must have a sweet, smart, marshmallowy inside.

Writing Retreat - I Can't Wait!

Patti Digh, of 37Days and Life is A Verb and my telecourse this year, posted about an upcoming writing workshop in November and I can't wait!

Here is a link to the workshop info.

I haven't been doing much in the way of recording my stories lately, but I have lots of intentions in that direction.  I can't wait to go be in a room full of people devoted to the idea that each life is a brilliant collection of stories. I want to record some of the crazy and wonderful and oh-so-funny things that have happened to me, to honor some of the incredible people who have graced me in my life.

It is so interesting to see the Universe offering up these little gifts while banging me over the head with a shovel in other areas of my life. It's a little disconcerting, but I am trying to pay attention to all of the messages.

Now, off to bed. I have to get up early to work on scheduling. :(

Quote of the Day

"The art of being happy lies in the power of extracting happiness from common things." ~Henry Ward Beecher

This popped up in my "Quote of the Day" widget the other day. I liked it. It makes me feel like I'm good at the art of being happy - I do extract happiness from common things.  It's nice to be accomplished at something so important. :)

Not a Photographer

So, I realized today that in all the revelry and fun of the last week, I didn't take a single photo...that is the hallmark of someone labeled "not a photographer".

Last week, as I was heading off to work, I noticed the cherry blossoms on the tree in my backyard and I realized it has been about a year since I started taking pics and that I had really REALLY slacked in the photo department.

I have to get back on the horse. I was never that steady to begin with, so it is all that much more important for me to continue to learn to take photos and to practice, practice, practice.

Art Block and Storytelling

In all the craziness of the last month or so, I have not been working on my art journals much and I miss them.  I took them out today in hopes that I would feel like I could get back into the process...I feel like I need it to feel human again.  I just couldn't...I felt like I didn't know what to do or how to do it...I think I will re-watch some of the Teesha Moore's videos again to be reinspired. I can hear my inner critic whispering things to me, "Not good enough. That's not how you imagined it. Not an artist."  Those whispers act like a net, catching all the creativity and holding it away from me.

On another creative front, I spent several evenings this week with friends and I felt a similar block in storytelling mode.  All my stories are the same stories I had two years ago, or five. I don't have as many experiences that turn into some funny story and I don't tell the stories enough to keep them fresh.  The art of the story is in the detail, it is in the telling of the specifics that the story comes to life, the fluid movement from beginning to middle to end. Now, I find myself editing the parts that  I am not proud of, or that I think other people will have judgements about. Those silly, painful, embarrassing, less-than-brilliant parts that I want to put away somewhere are the essence of these stories. At the same time, I find that I don't want to just be a silly girl in a funny story - I find some of the self-deprecation difficult sometimes.

I hover between wanting to just create new stories and wanting to embrace the stories of my life and reclaim the details and make sure they don't disappear.  If I don't do something with these moments, they will fade into obscurity. If my stories fade, so do I. We are all a collection of moments and when we share them, we create stories.  Without stories, we are just momentarily present and each fleeting moment goes by so quickly and then it is gone.

It is a strange dilemma I find myself in.  For now, I choose embracing the stories.  Without them, I lose another identity - "The Storyteller".  Without that, I'm not sure I know who I am.

Ugh - Make it Stop

I can't believe I had to work today at 6:00am. That is just wrong. And it is Daylight Savings Time tonight...Come on!

Too Tired...

How is it that I'm out of energy and out of humor and out of patience and I have to work a WHOLE 'NOTHER DAY?

Today was a mixed bag - I will share more about it tomorrow.

Right now, I'm just exhausted and I don't know how long my eyes will remain open.  So, adieu until tomorrow.

Good Omen

So, it seems odd to me that I can go for months at a time and not really have any social engagements and then BOOM, three days in a row.

Tonight, met with some friends I haven't seen in almost a year. Good clean fun. And we laughed!

Tomorrow, an interpreter gathering. Hopefully, some laughter and not too many questions about work.

Saturday, old home week. Friend from out of town, a gathering, old stories. Some new friends hearing old stories. More laughter.

But I do have to work on Saturday. That's definitely a downside to the whole thing. And a doctor's appointment tomorrow. Wish me luck.

Needling Memories

When I was a little kid, I used to get horrible headaches that came on very suddenly, very violently and I would vomit pretty much until I either passed out or until I slipped into an exhausted sleep.  They started when I was a baby and over the years, I have been tested and prodded and poked in many different ways.   I would be playing or talking or whatever and suddenly turn white as a sheet and be sick as a dog for hours. As I got older, they lasted for a couple of days.

When I was 5 or so, I remember going to a bunch of doctor's appointments where they took brainwaves (that's what I remember them saying) and they put me on some kind of hard-core medicine that freaked my mother out because it turned her normal, active child into a little zombie without any personality.   And I still had the headaches.  I wasn't diagnosed with migraines until I was in high school...

At one of these appointments, a woman (who seemed like God's Great-Grandmother to me) was the person drawing blood.  Either she was blind or very, very clumsy and she poked my arm maybe 6-8 times and was very rough, grabbing my arm and yanking me around.  My mother, who was normally pretty compliant, finally made the woman leave and get someone else and thus began my life-long, near-phobia about needles.

I bring this up so that I can proudly announce that not only have I been poked by needles TWICE in the last week, but I did not even tell the nurses that I was a nervous needle patient. I decided to grow up and see if I could just get through it.  I did not cry, I did not flinch, I did not have to run away.  I did not like it, by any means, but I have conquered my fear (for now). Considering the last couple of weeks, when it would be easier to be phobic about EVERYTHING and curl up in a ball and sleep, I am proud of myself.

Note:  I typed up a lovely post - all the side notes and little comments and then Blogger had some kind of editing error, so you are all getting the truncated version because I get SO IRRITATED when that happens and I can never remember all the good parts...

OMG - HEAVEN!!

I just found out that "Les Miserables" is already revived for the 25th Anniversary production and it is coming to Portland in Summer 2011!!  This totally made my day! And my week!

I LOVE this show.

For a video clip of joy-to-come, go here.

On the Other Side

It has been more than a week of significant challenges and yet, I have felt strangely calm. It is unusual for me to find this quiet place in my head and heart and rest there.  I am a worrier - I tend to perseverate about what I said, what I did or didn't do, what I should do. This time, in this place, I have been focused on being healthy, getting some rest, moving forward quietly and not engaging in speculation or negativity.

I have been honest about how I'm feeling...today my answer was, "Losing my sense of humor".

There is cautious good news in my work world. Not all my eggs are resting in that basket, but a lot of them are still there, hiding in the grass. What will be, will be...right?

Oscar Madness and Other Oddities

I have a sty in my eye. :(  I have never had one before and it hurts.  It has interfered with my whole day as my left eye is swollen almost shut. I have alternated heat and ice, have put drops in and now have naturopathic sty medicine.

As for the Oscars, the phrase "most exciting first hour" was used in some pre-publicity and I have to say that I have no idea what show they were actually talking about - it certainly wasn't the show that I was watching.  So far, the only Academy Awards show that was worse was the only I skipped altogether a couple of years ago when all the movies for Best Picture seemed so hideous that there was no point.  It was the year of "No Country for Old Men" or "Let There Be Blood" or something like that...

First of all, why do we have to have 2 hosts?  At least if there is only one and a joke tanks, they can just move along - they don't have to wade through the awkward banter hoping the other person will catch on. I would rather have seen Ellen, Robin Williams or Neil Patrick Harris host than Steve Martin and Alec Baldwin. It was BORING.

What's with having people talk about the actors' personal character before Best Actor and Best Actress?  What if one of them turns out to be a jerk and no one wants to stand up for them?  What if they AREN'T "the nicest person" you'd ever want to meet?  Shouldn't the awards be about the work?

And what was up with that woman who ran up, took over from the Short Documentary winner and used up all his time?  They should have taken her off the stage and let the guy talk.

Need I mention the dancers?  Honestly, getting rid of the Acadamy Award Dancers was the best thing they had done in years.

Some of the speeches (Mo'Nique, Sandra Bullock, the guy who won Best Supporting Actor, a few of the others) were worth it. First Female Best Director - awesome. I liked the John Hughes tribute.  The rest of the show, I could have done without.

New celebrity crush (in addition to Gordon Ramsey and Ryan Reynolds) is Sandra Bullock. I love her - always have. I love that she seems sensitive. I love that she stopped working for a while when she was unhappy with the work she was doing/getting. And she is beautiful. Kind of remeniscent of Jenna Elfman in "Keeping the Faith"...

Comfort on a Sunny Saturday

This made me feel good today:
Advice, like youth, probably just wasted on the young - chicagotribune.com  I actually love the Baz Luhrman song version - the long version, which I listened to today.

That and singing at the top of my lungs to Tanya Tucker's Greatest Hits album from 1971, David Wilcox "How Did You Find Me Here" and some Indigo Girls.  I also downloaded Carrie Underwood's latest CD and listened to that and played some solitaire. Very restful and rejuvinating.

I tried to do some work in my art journal but I couldn't find what I was looking for in terms of images, so I gave up.

Saturday Rant

So, in checking my sidekick info online this week, I was reminded of the situation in the fall when the Danger Network went down and I lost all my photos, contacts, to-do-lists and emails for about a month.  When they restored all the info (I have no idea how that works), a very BIZARRE thing happened.  When I opened up my online account, a picture of one of my friends FROM HIS CAMERA showed up on my account. In fact, 3 photos from his phone somehow magically transferred to mine...and he doesn't even have the same phone service.

I called my friend because I realized I had forgotten this fact and when he called back, he left a message that was something to the affect of, "This could be scandalous depending on the photos that were transferred..." and "if you think you have privacy, guess again".

Imagine, if you will, some of the photos YOU have taken with your phone...and then imagine them showing up on your Mother's cell phone camera account or your boss'...

You see, the phone I was checking was a work phone. Sometimes, when they ask me to check something in the server room and I have no idea what they are asking me to do, I have to take photos of all the wires and configurations and then they can tell me to cut the blue wire or the green one.  In my work, a lot of the information is extremely proprietary.

For me, I had to think that the photos would just be exchanged (somehow) between people on each other's contact lists, BUT STILL...isn't that the craziest thing you have ever heard?
Makes me all the happier that I bought a digital camera and I don't have any reason to take personal photos (of any kind) on my phone. I mean, honestly, scandalous photos are not coming from me - I don't have any worries on that front, but it is just the idea that your personal, private information could be so easily exchanged with someone else's. Weird.

Musical Interlude

 Higher - Creed (don't love the video, but the lead singer is kinda hot and I love the song)



With Arms Wide Open - Creed (to get the American Idol version out of my mind)

TV Guide Says...

My TV Guide Horoscope says:  "Life is good, and getting better by the minute. You don't agree?  Well, you should - and what happens over the next week will surely convince you that there's plenty to smile about. Jupiter, planet of good fortune, will bring marvelous things your way, so get ready to live it up."

I'll take it!

The Mope-No-More Plan

Well, I just can't have any more of the negative stuff in my life right now.

Phase One of the Mope-No-More Plan:

1.  See a movie over the weekend
2.  Make time to read for 30 minutes at least 2 times before Monday
3.  Work on Art Journal this weekend
4.  Friday night - 30 minutes of Solitaire and music of my choice on iPod

Phase Two of the Plan is next week and includes dinner with friends, a visit from an out-of-town FAVORITE FRIEND and fellow Cancerian and an interpreter gathering (and no, they are not all the same event...3 separate events.

I don't have a phase three cuz I didn't want to jump the gun. :)

It's Tuesday

Felt like I lived 1,000 years today. But there were mint chocolate cupcakes. I think you can find them over at Birdstar's blog. I don't even like mint, but damn, that cupcake was good.

The other thing I remembered today (again) is that I have a lot of really good people in my life. That makes it all worth it, right?

Dear Friends - Thank You

I know that things have been vague and slightly ominous in the blog recently - I don't feel that I can really discuss certain issues here, so I thank you all for your patience and good thoughts.

Things are looking slightly less stormy at work (it is not a hurricane, but a torrential rain with very black clouds threatening, high winds).  I have had a health scare, but I am seeing a doctor tomorrow to determine how freaked out I should be (I think it will be a minor thing that needs to be tended to).

There is challenge in the air right now, but I am feeling pretty calm. I have a great support system and I am an interpreter. That is a pretty unbeatable combination. I will land on my feet no matter what happens.

Thank you all for your good thoughts, phone calls and love. I can feel it and it buoys me up.  Maybe I just needed a reminder of how blessed I really am. Thanks for the kick in the pants. But enough now. Seriously. :)