It's been yonks since I posted. I guess I haven't had much to say lately.
I did have an interesting topic come to mind this morning, but I can't seem to remember what it was.
Oh well...I'm sure something will be worth talking about in the near future.
Friday, April 14, 2006
Sunday, March 19, 2006
The Adventures of Bob and the ass in the express lane
I've found a new pet peeve. It's one that other people have because it's been mentioned on late night talk shows, stand-up comedy routines, and sit coms.
It's the express lane at the grocery store.
Today, I went to Safeway to get some things to cook for dinner and I went to the 15 items or less lane. The guy in front of me had nearly 15 frozen pizzas, let alone the 9 cans of cat food he had, and the various other items. It's not like he was one or two items over 15...this guy's total was well into the 20's. It wasn't even busy in the other lanes!
The real reason why I'm angry about it is because he was perpetuating my hunger. I'd been way on the south side of Denver at a friends' place getting new shelves for my trailer, and I didn't eat anything substantial all day. I was looking forward to making a nice chicken and pasta meal when this rude interruption happened, caused by a guy with no grocery store etiquette.
Obviously, the story has a happy ending because I got checked out, and I did make my very nice chicken and pasta. Nevertheless, this guy's violation of the express lane rules has stuck with me, and I realize now that it will always be something that bugs me.
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My sister lost her beloved cat Bob this week. Bob was a gorgeous black persian with piercing eyes. He was a ripe ole 17 years of age. He'd been around since before both of my sister's children, and they have grown up with him as a member of the family. Bob was a fiercly independent cat in his early years, and was actually quite a recluse. His rare appearances were usually purposeful as he was only trying to go from one hiding place to another. All of them were far from human contact. As he got older, he became much more social and even became a lap cat. He loved being combed, and would express his delight by pawing at your leg even though he had long since had his claws removed. He was a great family pet, and he is missed.
R.I.P Bob. May you find an eternal field of catnip.
It's the express lane at the grocery store.
Today, I went to Safeway to get some things to cook for dinner and I went to the 15 items or less lane. The guy in front of me had nearly 15 frozen pizzas, let alone the 9 cans of cat food he had, and the various other items. It's not like he was one or two items over 15...this guy's total was well into the 20's. It wasn't even busy in the other lanes!
The real reason why I'm angry about it is because he was perpetuating my hunger. I'd been way on the south side of Denver at a friends' place getting new shelves for my trailer, and I didn't eat anything substantial all day. I was looking forward to making a nice chicken and pasta meal when this rude interruption happened, caused by a guy with no grocery store etiquette.
Obviously, the story has a happy ending because I got checked out, and I did make my very nice chicken and pasta. Nevertheless, this guy's violation of the express lane rules has stuck with me, and I realize now that it will always be something that bugs me.
------
My sister lost her beloved cat Bob this week. Bob was a gorgeous black persian with piercing eyes. He was a ripe ole 17 years of age. He'd been around since before both of my sister's children, and they have grown up with him as a member of the family. Bob was a fiercly independent cat in his early years, and was actually quite a recluse. His rare appearances were usually purposeful as he was only trying to go from one hiding place to another. All of them were far from human contact. As he got older, he became much more social and even became a lap cat. He loved being combed, and would express his delight by pawing at your leg even though he had long since had his claws removed. He was a great family pet, and he is missed.
R.I.P Bob. May you find an eternal field of catnip.
Saturday, March 11, 2006
Back in bed
I mean literally. I have an actual bed again. Normally, the news of a bed wouldn't be that big of a deal. But you have to consider the fact that since I moved here in August, I'd been sleeping on an air mattress. See, the original plan was that I would move a bunch of stuff out here that I packed in my Element, and my schedule had an opening in it that would allow me to fly back to Jersey, rent a truck, and fill it with things like the bed I have in a storage unit there. That plan never materialzed, for a reason that I can't recall exactly. So, I never got my old bed out here and it was the air matress on the floor that served as my berth when I was in the Port of Boulder. I bought a pillow top thingy to make it feel more like an actual bed, and coupled with a flannel sheep sheet and a big, fluffy down duvet it was actually quite comfortable, truth be told.
So's I get home from a Jersey visit to news from my faithfull roomie CJ that his mother had a bed in her home office that she wanted to get rid of, and knowing about my inflatable trundle, he volunteered to take it. Wahey! We went to fetch it the other night before one of CJ's hockey games. It's a four poster, which doesn't really suit me. I got used to not having a headboard, and footboards usually just got in the way of my feet, so I wasn't crazy about those additions. CJ agreed to swap for his bog standard metal bed frame, and voila! I have an actual bed, and CJ has a girlie four post.
Now, I don't know if I'm alone in this or not, but regardless of circumstances-I could be 24-hour-race deprived of sleep-whenever I spend the first night in a new or unfamiliar bed, I don't usually sleep well. True to form, I slept better on my last night of air matressing than I did on my first night of 'I've got a big girl bed now!' That being said, I didn't have to roll out of bed this morning. I could actually throw my feet over the side and stand up.
It occurred to me that I simply got used to sleeping on the air mattress, and now I have to readjust to doing something other than having a campout in my own house. I started thinking about the other things that I've 'accepted' and just learned to deal with. Then I thought about the things that I can't accept, for one reason or another.
Maybe I just need to accept that there are things I can't accept, pick up the pieces of my shattered life, and move on.
Or, maybe I'll just go to bed.
So's I get home from a Jersey visit to news from my faithfull roomie CJ that his mother had a bed in her home office that she wanted to get rid of, and knowing about my inflatable trundle, he volunteered to take it. Wahey! We went to fetch it the other night before one of CJ's hockey games. It's a four poster, which doesn't really suit me. I got used to not having a headboard, and footboards usually just got in the way of my feet, so I wasn't crazy about those additions. CJ agreed to swap for his bog standard metal bed frame, and voila! I have an actual bed, and CJ has a girlie four post.
Now, I don't know if I'm alone in this or not, but regardless of circumstances-I could be 24-hour-race deprived of sleep-whenever I spend the first night in a new or unfamiliar bed, I don't usually sleep well. True to form, I slept better on my last night of air matressing than I did on my first night of 'I've got a big girl bed now!' That being said, I didn't have to roll out of bed this morning. I could actually throw my feet over the side and stand up.
It occurred to me that I simply got used to sleeping on the air mattress, and now I have to readjust to doing something other than having a campout in my own house. I started thinking about the other things that I've 'accepted' and just learned to deal with. Then I thought about the things that I can't accept, for one reason or another.
Maybe I just need to accept that there are things I can't accept, pick up the pieces of my shattered life, and move on.
Or, maybe I'll just go to bed.
Monday, March 06, 2006
South Dakota: Land of backwards thinking
CHICAGO (Reuters) - The governor of South Dakota on Monday signed into law severe restrictions on abortion, in a direct challenge to the U.S. Supreme Court's legalization of the practice 33 years ago.
Abortion foes have said they hope to use the South Dakota law to eventually bring the issue back before the high court, where they believe conservatives added to the bench by President George W. Bush in the last year could weaken or dismantle the court's landmark Roe vs Wade decision of 1973.
Supporters of Roe vs Wade have promised a legal challenge to the new South Dakota law.
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Thirty-three years. For 33 years, women have had the right to decide what happens to their bodies in the event of an unplanned pregnancy. Now, one State has taken that right away, even in the event of rape or incest. RAPE or INCEST. If you get rapped, or your Uncle shags you, and you get pregnant, South Dakota is saying that's too bad. A collection of cells now has more rights than you, even under those most horrible of circumstances.
South Dakota passed this bill specifically for the purpose of having someone challenge it and take it to the Supreme Court. It's unconstitutional up down and sideways.
This is only the beginning, I'm afraid.
Abortion foes have said they hope to use the South Dakota law to eventually bring the issue back before the high court, where they believe conservatives added to the bench by President George W. Bush in the last year could weaken or dismantle the court's landmark Roe vs Wade decision of 1973.
Supporters of Roe vs Wade have promised a legal challenge to the new South Dakota law.
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Thirty-three years. For 33 years, women have had the right to decide what happens to their bodies in the event of an unplanned pregnancy. Now, one State has taken that right away, even in the event of rape or incest. RAPE or INCEST. If you get rapped, or your Uncle shags you, and you get pregnant, South Dakota is saying that's too bad. A collection of cells now has more rights than you, even under those most horrible of circumstances.
South Dakota passed this bill specifically for the purpose of having someone challenge it and take it to the Supreme Court. It's unconstitutional up down and sideways.
This is only the beginning, I'm afraid.
Tuesday, February 28, 2006
What if's
I've run into one of those situations that requires me to keep my mouth shut. This is a tricky one, though. It involves three people that I like. Not saying anything is the easy part. The situation itself is the hard part, and it's impact on me is minimal. It's hard because I have a pretty clear view of all sides and I see how each of the three is put into a circumstance that none of them really want. It's one of those times when no matter what the outcome, someone gets hurt. It's not like anything I could say would make it better. I guess more than anything, I'm curious about the choices that have been made. Let's face it, this whole thing is an example of the sorts of choices that people make.
Choices can have really great outcomes, and of course, they can result in some not so great things. What's funny is that sometimes we don't realize how the choices we make will affect us until much, much later. That's when regret can enter the picture. Choice and regreat are a formidable pair. When faced with making a tough choice, the ability to see into the future would come in really handy, thus avoiding the possibility of regret. Regret can linger for days and days, even longer than that. Most of the time that large quantity of regret is the work of one, single choice.
The worst combination of choice and regret is when we make a choice that we know is right, and regret it's outcome by second guessing ourselves. Then we have guilt. Guilt is the third member of the choice-regret-guilt trinity. Guilt is the most unforgiving of the three, I think. Guilt can eat you alive if you let it. Guilt is smart, too. Guilt has the ability to make itself known before you actually do something. Let's say that you are doing/not doing something that you know is having/going to effect someone else. You may choose to/not to do said thing, and sometimes you know that you'll feel guility later about doing/not doing it. So in a way, guilt can start messing with your head even before you have anything to be guilty about.
The good news is that we have a choice about how we respond to the various ups and downs we encounter. We have a choice to not let regret get the better of us, and we have a choice about feeling guilty regarding the things we can not change.
Choices can have really great outcomes, and of course, they can result in some not so great things. What's funny is that sometimes we don't realize how the choices we make will affect us until much, much later. That's when regret can enter the picture. Choice and regreat are a formidable pair. When faced with making a tough choice, the ability to see into the future would come in really handy, thus avoiding the possibility of regret. Regret can linger for days and days, even longer than that. Most of the time that large quantity of regret is the work of one, single choice.
The worst combination of choice and regret is when we make a choice that we know is right, and regret it's outcome by second guessing ourselves. Then we have guilt. Guilt is the third member of the choice-regret-guilt trinity. Guilt is the most unforgiving of the three, I think. Guilt can eat you alive if you let it. Guilt is smart, too. Guilt has the ability to make itself known before you actually do something. Let's say that you are doing/not doing something that you know is having/going to effect someone else. You may choose to/not to do said thing, and sometimes you know that you'll feel guility later about doing/not doing it. So in a way, guilt can start messing with your head even before you have anything to be guilty about.
The good news is that we have a choice about how we respond to the various ups and downs we encounter. We have a choice to not let regret get the better of us, and we have a choice about feeling guilty regarding the things we can not change.
Wednesday, February 15, 2006
Count your blessings
Being with my parents this week has caused me to reflect on some things. For one, I'm very glad that my dad is still around after his surgery, and that the worst appears to be over. By all accounts, he should recover pretty close to fully. He was moved to rehab today and is sharing a room with a man who's had a very rough time of late. He's 48 years old, and when he was 40 it was discovered that he had arteriovenous malformation around his spine, which meant he had to quit his job and go on permanent disability. Then last year sometime, he got hit by a car and suffered a fractured back, fractured pelvis, two fractured legs, and numerous other injuries. He had just gotten out of rehab from that a month ago, and then just recently he suffered a stroke. He's divorced and has two daughters that live with his ex-wife. I'm not sure anyone will come to visit him.
So, in what appears to be a delayed list of things I should have given thanks for at Thanksgiving, I've been inundated with thoughts about things that make me feel pretty damn lucky. So, here's a few:
My parents-the people who raised me to be a sponge in the world. They led me down a path and taught me right from wrong. They also taught me how to think for myself, how to appreciate beautiful things, and that a little kindness goes a long way. I don't know that I'll ever be able to appreciate anyone else on the same level as my parents. I'm thankful to them for so many things, far too numerous to list here.
My sister-we've gotten closer in recent years, and I can honestly say that I value her as much as a friend as I do a sibling. If there's one person that I know I can talk to about anything, it's Ruth.
My friends-something that struck me tonight is that I have a diverse group of friends. I have different types of friends, and friends from places who, through simply knowing them, help me form a more worldy view. I love the fact that we have different opinions on some pretty hefty issues, yet we still like each other. The idea of surrounding myself with people who think exactly the way I do about everything scares me. That would mean that I had given up on the value of learning, and being able to see a different perspective.
Days and nights-What did I see today that was beautiful? During the day, I saw the sun reflecting on the water, and tonight I saw a nearly full moon in a crytal clear sky.
Bikes-Duh.
This whole diversity thing is what got this post going tonight. It was another thing that came to mind when thinking of my mom and dad. They break the stereotypes of a clergyman and his wife in so many ways. One example is that they've been trying to fix me up with one of my dad's doctors, who just so happens to be from Afghanistan. And while thinking of the individuals that comprise my own group of friends, I see my parents' influence there, too. There's my older friends, my younger friends, my married friends, my single friends, my atheist friends, my religious friends. my slightly neurotic friends, my boringly normal friends, my pot-smokers, my straight-edgers, my bike riders and my non-riders, and all sizes and colors. There's a lot of crossover in there, as well. Overall, it's a great lot.
Long and short...my dad always says that bad things are just crabgrass in the lawn of life. As long as you have more grass than crabgrass, then things are going ok.
Right now, I've got a pretty big lawn.
So, in what appears to be a delayed list of things I should have given thanks for at Thanksgiving, I've been inundated with thoughts about things that make me feel pretty damn lucky. So, here's a few:
My parents-the people who raised me to be a sponge in the world. They led me down a path and taught me right from wrong. They also taught me how to think for myself, how to appreciate beautiful things, and that a little kindness goes a long way. I don't know that I'll ever be able to appreciate anyone else on the same level as my parents. I'm thankful to them for so many things, far too numerous to list here.
My sister-we've gotten closer in recent years, and I can honestly say that I value her as much as a friend as I do a sibling. If there's one person that I know I can talk to about anything, it's Ruth.
My friends-something that struck me tonight is that I have a diverse group of friends. I have different types of friends, and friends from places who, through simply knowing them, help me form a more worldy view. I love the fact that we have different opinions on some pretty hefty issues, yet we still like each other. The idea of surrounding myself with people who think exactly the way I do about everything scares me. That would mean that I had given up on the value of learning, and being able to see a different perspective.
Days and nights-What did I see today that was beautiful? During the day, I saw the sun reflecting on the water, and tonight I saw a nearly full moon in a crytal clear sky.
Bikes-Duh.
This whole diversity thing is what got this post going tonight. It was another thing that came to mind when thinking of my mom and dad. They break the stereotypes of a clergyman and his wife in so many ways. One example is that they've been trying to fix me up with one of my dad's doctors, who just so happens to be from Afghanistan. And while thinking of the individuals that comprise my own group of friends, I see my parents' influence there, too. There's my older friends, my younger friends, my married friends, my single friends, my atheist friends, my religious friends. my slightly neurotic friends, my boringly normal friends, my pot-smokers, my straight-edgers, my bike riders and my non-riders, and all sizes and colors. There's a lot of crossover in there, as well. Overall, it's a great lot.
Long and short...my dad always says that bad things are just crabgrass in the lawn of life. As long as you have more grass than crabgrass, then things are going ok.
Right now, I've got a pretty big lawn.
Monday, February 13, 2006
Horse walks into a bar. Bartender says "Why the long face?"
Have you ever noticed how often powerlines get in the way of a really nice photo opportunity?
I've had this thought running through my head since I was in Santa Cruz last. It's really been bugging me for a couple of reasons. One, ever since I first realized it, I've been noticing just how often they do ruin an otherwise great picture. And second...well just a minute ago I had another reason, but it seems to have gone away. Maybe I summarized them both with the first one.
Really though, they are all over the place, powerlines. I realize that they provide us with the juice for all of our modern domestic conveniences. This laptop I'm using is a perfect example of that. But they are sometimes a real pain in the tukhes, like when a big blizzard blows through and knocks your power out (like yesterday). Or, when they get in the way of what would otherwise be a nice picture that I'd like to take. Maybe I should just start taking pictures of things I see with interfering powerlines. I could make it a category on Flickr, or something.
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I've seen my father in a hospital bed for 3 days now. Everyday, it seems harder and harder to see him like that. Sometimes, I feel like I can really get everyone through this. Other times, I feel completely helpless. Today, his tailbone was hurting him and making him toss and turn in the bed. He can't really turn on his side all the way. I wish I could give him mine for a little while, or at least I wish I could hold him up off of his. His right quad atrophied some and is making it very difficult to lift his right leg. The parts of him that aren't artificial in his knee are very stiff as a result. Bike riding has given me pretty strong quads. I'd like to lend him mine until his are stronger. He hasn't been able to take a shower since before his operation. I'd like to give him my morning shower, and make it a nice long one. Genetics gave me his sense of humor. I'd like to lend it back to him so that he'd be able to smile. He's tired and frustrated and weak. He wants to go home. He wants to be able to walk again. I really wish I could hang a bag of positive endorphins on his IV drip. And while I'm at it, I'd like to serve up a dose of Hang In There to my mom. She's a rock when she's with my dad, but she's tired of trying to keep his spirits up as well.
I know things could be a lot worse. I know that. I haven't seen my dad like this since the radiator cap on the car engine blew and gave him some bad burns when I was 7 or 8. I was too young to really understand his healing process then. I know that all of this will be worth it in the end, but getting everyone to believe that isn't as easy as I'd hoped it would be.
Take care of your knees, people.
I've had this thought running through my head since I was in Santa Cruz last. It's really been bugging me for a couple of reasons. One, ever since I first realized it, I've been noticing just how often they do ruin an otherwise great picture. And second...well just a minute ago I had another reason, but it seems to have gone away. Maybe I summarized them both with the first one.
Really though, they are all over the place, powerlines. I realize that they provide us with the juice for all of our modern domestic conveniences. This laptop I'm using is a perfect example of that. But they are sometimes a real pain in the tukhes, like when a big blizzard blows through and knocks your power out (like yesterday). Or, when they get in the way of what would otherwise be a nice picture that I'd like to take. Maybe I should just start taking pictures of things I see with interfering powerlines. I could make it a category on Flickr, or something.
-------
I've seen my father in a hospital bed for 3 days now. Everyday, it seems harder and harder to see him like that. Sometimes, I feel like I can really get everyone through this. Other times, I feel completely helpless. Today, his tailbone was hurting him and making him toss and turn in the bed. He can't really turn on his side all the way. I wish I could give him mine for a little while, or at least I wish I could hold him up off of his. His right quad atrophied some and is making it very difficult to lift his right leg. The parts of him that aren't artificial in his knee are very stiff as a result. Bike riding has given me pretty strong quads. I'd like to lend him mine until his are stronger. He hasn't been able to take a shower since before his operation. I'd like to give him my morning shower, and make it a nice long one. Genetics gave me his sense of humor. I'd like to lend it back to him so that he'd be able to smile. He's tired and frustrated and weak. He wants to go home. He wants to be able to walk again. I really wish I could hang a bag of positive endorphins on his IV drip. And while I'm at it, I'd like to serve up a dose of Hang In There to my mom. She's a rock when she's with my dad, but she's tired of trying to keep his spirits up as well.
I know things could be a lot worse. I know that. I haven't seen my dad like this since the radiator cap on the car engine blew and gave him some bad burns when I was 7 or 8. I was too young to really understand his healing process then. I know that all of this will be worth it in the end, but getting everyone to believe that isn't as easy as I'd hoped it would be.
Take care of your knees, people.
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