Should auld 2008 be forgot?

And now, the obligatory "2008 in Review" post. Because I am a sheeple. Tomorrow, I shall sheeple my way through the obligatory "Resolutions for 2009 That I won't End Up Keeping" post. I'm sure you'll want to skip my blog for the day make a note not to miss it.

However, in order to be an over-achiever an obnoxious PITA a bit different from the other "year in review" posts, I shall attempt to do this in Haiku.

*clearing throat*

Survived little sis
birthing the first grandbaby
healthy gorgeous boy.

Also survived my
family's disappointment:
no baby plans here.

Stressful visit home.
Anxiety attack hell
for five crazy days.

SisterFriend had son.
Off to mommyland she goes?
Nope, still snarky bitch! (silent yay!)

Both cats had scurvy.
So many trips to the vet,
glad he takes Visa!

Joe's new job owns soul
They work him too many hours
He deserves a break.

Anxiety rules.
Time to take action on it.
My therapist sucked.

Lexapro saves me
but not without paying price.
Twenty extra pounds.

I started this blog.
It has brought me so much joy.
In part due to you.

Overall, not bad.
Highs and lows seem to balance.
Ready to move on.

Lame but I tried. Tomorrow, Shakespearean sonnets!!! (No, not so much.)

P.S.: Beth posted about choosing your one word for 2009. Check it out - it's an interesting idea. Interesting enough that I may have to break down and give it a separate entry sometime over the next few days.

Healthy living at a discount

I just received the following email at work:

Your Employee Well-Being Committee is pleased to announce that {Employer's Name Here} employees will be eligible for a 10% discount at McDonald's. This only applies to the McDonald's on the corner of Elm and Main and you must show your ID badge before you pay.
McDonald’s does have some healthy options -please make wise choices!

Note: I edited nothing except for removing my employer's identifying information. The massive (red) font was their choice.

Their previous email was about including veggies as part of your New Year's Resolutions so I'm not quite sure how to follow their logic. Or if I even want to follow it. I particularly like the fact that McDonald's does have some healthy options.

I wish I could say I'm surprised to see such weirdness come from this committee. This past Summer, they offered a "complimentary nutrition class or evaluation". That's exactly what I want. A complimentary evaluation. "My, Cate, you're looking quite well today! Gee, your hair smells terrific! Have you lost 30 pounds because your body is ROCKIN'!".

SWYMM: I fail at words

Say What You Mean Mondays - actual quotes from actual people. People who often have at least one foot in their mouth.

In this very special edition of SWYMM, I'm the one with my foot in my mouth. I have a knack for saying stupid things that make no sense and here are a few recent goodies.

"Here, please drive my purse home" To Joe, at my boss's house warming party.

"Just remember that when you're taking antibiotics, your birth control pills aren't reliable in preventing pregnancy." Said to my (male) boss.

"No, drop me off at the door. I totally deserve to be chaperoned." Sadly, this was in a car full of co-workers and I meant "chauffeured". And my coworkers all agreed that "chaperoned" was a safer choice for me.

"Those are the biggest balls I've ever seen!" In front of our uber-religious friend, referring to a sculpture of Christmas balls in NYC.

SomeMonkey: man, you're all sorts of commenty
me: i'm... in the christmas spirit?
pretending i'm in the christmas spirit?
spreading peace love and happiness to all the world
or maybe delirious because i'm freakin starved
SomeMonkey: okay, i'll try again.
your BLOG is commenty.
me: oh, haha
also
commenty
vs complimentary
i get it!

With the exception of the purse incident, these things were all said when I was sober and migraine-free. I should not be allowed to speak in public.

Confession: Give me a minute to jot that down

I have a confession to make... I am obsessed with lists. To the point that it may be a diagnosable illness.

I have lists for everything:

• Weekly groceries
• Daily to-do
• Longterm home improvements
• Trip packing
• House cleaning
• Books to read
• Blog ideas

Even my lists have lists. The trip packing lists? Those are compartmentalized into Preparation (cancel the paper, leave a check for the cat sitter) and Packing, which is further broken down into Clothes, Medications, Toiletries, Entertainment, Other.

I've never met a situation that I couldn't make a list for. And being a closet bit of a certified tech geek, most of my lists are in some electronic format. The previous tool of choice was a Google Spreadsheet. But recently, the new "Tasks" list in Gmail owns my soul.

Some of my lists have even progressed to the point of being made into a database. A searchable database accessible through my website (password protected, of course!). Granted, this is more of a catalog situation, but what's a catalog if not a list? And it's all for the greater good. If Joe can search to see if we already own a CD before he purchases it, we end up with fewer duplicates!

I'm sure there's some fancy word for it (listmania?) and I'm also sure there's no cure. Especially this time of year - because I also get very excited about other people making lists. Year in Review? 2008 Wrap-Up? I can barely stand it!

Now, I'm off to create a list of things I need to do between now and our evening plans. As well as a list for work tomorrow. And a list of things to finish before New Years Eve. Oh, also, a list of things I'm starting on January 1st. Maybe I should start with a list of the lists I need to create...

It's good to have goals

Now that Christmas is over (though the tree is still staring at me, begging to be put away), I'm on to the next thing: New Years. Specifically, all those fancy schmancy resolutions to make me a saint hero slightly improved person in the coming year.

I'll save the specifics except to mention that I've noticed I've been long-winded and rambly lately. The first one I promise to work on. The second I could promise but it would be setting myself up for failure.

So today, I'm chilling, reading other blogs and figuring out my plans for world domination in 2009. It's nice to have a day where the ideas are coming faster than I can keep track of them. Now, to figure out which are meant to be pursued and which are meant to be left for another time.

Let's move along, nothing to see here

I love Christmas and yesterday was no exception. We had a particularly lovely day, just me and Joe. I spoke with most of the family at one point or another on the phone. And while it's sad in some ways to be away from them during the holidays, I wouldn't have it any other way. This way preserves my sanity.

But my point (believe it or not, I usually have one when I start writing but I lose it sometimes due to shiny objects, oh look!!!) is that Christmas has a limited shelf-life for me. I don't want to see it or think about it before Thanksgiving. Really, I'd rather you not even mention it until December 1st. Christmas music? No way, no how before my turkey day has ended.

Then December 1st arrives and I do my best to find the Christmas spirit. Some years it comes right away, others I have to fight for it. This year, I didn't find it until the 23rd but at least I found it eventually!

Today, however, is December 26th. And I'm pretty much done with it. I'm not one of those people that keeps the decorations up until Epiphany. In fact, I find myself working overtime to dream up a legitimate reason we should put things away immediately. The tree is staring at me right now and I'm itching to throw it back in the box.

And Christmas music? Do NOT be playing any more Christmas music. The only "Christmas" music I tolerate outside the holidays is some Vince Guaraldi/Charlie Brown tunes. I also don't watch Christmas specials/movies outside of December.

I'm not sure why all this is. It could have something to do with fear that the cats will destroy something. We fight with them from the minute the tree goes up to the minute it comes down (either by our hand or theirs). I caught Tonya on the mantle this past week and almost beat her dropped her in a donation box lost my mind because I thought that was one of three "safe" areas in the house. It could also have something to do with putting my things back where they belong. Nothing's in its usual spot and it bothers me a great deal.

So assuming you ever found your Christmas spirit this year, when are you "over" it? Are you like me and you can't wait to put things away or are you someone who would love to leave your decorations up year-round?

Also, on an (almost completely) unrelated note, is there any job more terrifying than being a pet store Santa? Anyone know if they get hazard pay? I can't imagine my movements being restricted by that silly red suit while someone tries to put their angry Great Dane in my lap. Maybe kids scream and bite and pee on you but one wrong move and that peeved pet is going to eat your face!

If that's your kind of thing

I wish I could say it is my childlike anticipation of Santa's leavings that has me awake so early. Alas, it is insomnia.

Either way, it means I can wish you all a very Merry Christmas that much sooner! And if Merry Christmas isn't what you're into, umm, Greetings, Earthling, take me to your leader! Unless your leader is scary or smells like peaches or stew. In that case, I bid thee general goodwill and we shall both walk away as if nothing ever happened.

I hope today brings you all good things, whatever you may need. Maybe it's a sweater, or a puppy, or some family time, or even just a temporary distraction from whatever else is happening in your life.

Whatever the case may be and whatever you are celebrating (or not), I wish you a good one.

Less than three,
Cate

Letter to Santa

Dear Santa,

I've tried hard to be a good girl this year. By no means did I succeed 100% of the time but I have made a very conscious effort. Also, I haven't kicked a single puppy so I'm pretty sure that's an improvement over last year already (I kid, please don't send letters)! Anyways, most of my requests are not for me so I hope you will at least consider granting them.

First, I wish for peace of mind for all of those people fighting to make ends meet. Times are tough right now and I hope 2009 will be better for us all whether the struggles be financial or other stress. I also pray for the safety and return of our troops. Not only for those serving but for the welfare of their amazing families who give so much.

I request happiness and joy to all who have shared them with me this year, both on the internetz (including my new bloggy friends) and offline.

For my grandmother, I also request some happiness. She's lived a long time and given a lot of love. To see her so lonely and bitter in her last days makes me sad.

For my sister and her family, I seek enlightenment. Their situation doesn't need to be what it is. And that beautiful baby is in the middle of it all. He will be the one that suffers and it breaks my heart to see them struggle needlessly.

For my wonderful husband, Joe, I request a month-long vacation to a destination of his choosing. My only stipulation is that while he has a great thirst for adventure that should be satisfied, he also needs to spend some time really relaxing. He works hard, both in his job and in being married to me and he needs some downtime.

And if it's not too much to ask (I've asked for a lot already), I'd like to add a request for peace of mind for me. I've worked hard on some of my issues this year and I'd like to continue making progress next year. Less anxiety and more contentment would serve me well.

Thanks Santa. I know you have a lot on your plate and appreciate whatever you're able to do.

Happy Festivus!

Today's the day you've been waiting for! No, not Christmas. Festivus!

I considered taking part in the traditional Airing of Grievances and Feats of Strength but decided instead to just make donations to the Human Fund in honor of all my new bloggy friends

Speaking of my bloggy friends, I've been slow figuring out this whole award thing. But I want to thank The Wife of Riley and Angie at Making Memories (very belated thank you, oops) for this one:
The award states: "This blog invests and believes the PROXIMITY - nearness in space, time and relationships! These blogs are exceedingly charming. These kind bloggers aim to find and be friends. They are not interested in prizes or self-aggrandizement. Our hope is that when the ribbons of these prizes are cut, even more friendships are propagated. Please give more attention to these writers! Deliver this award to eight bloggers who must choose eight more and include this cleverly-written text into the body of their award."

I'm cheating and gifting the award to everyone that reads this. Because you've all made me feel so welcome and I'm truly enjoying blogging for the first time ever.

Now, to put the finishing touches on my letter to Santa for tomorrow night.

Mixed medical bag

I'm feeling pretty tired today and not up to even attempting anything entertaining or witty. Sorry. I can't even actually remember if I blogged yesterday at all.

This morning I had my follow-up appointment from my "Not a fun Friday" post two weeks ago. The short version (which is all I'm sharing here) is that tests I expected to come back fine came back positive in a way that made absolutely no sense. It caused insane stress for the past two weeks. Then last Friday, I spent the day chasing down my records that were supposed to be sent to the specialist because, of course, they hadn't been. I finally managed to pick them up in person.

Which brings us back to today. The specialist had a lot of interesting information for me, including the fact that my other doctor had completely misread my results. Yes, I still needed the appointment and additional testing this morning but the positive result that made no sense was, in fact, negative all along. So I spent two whole weeks spazzing out of my mind for absolutely nothing. For the past few nights, I've barely slept, all from the stress.

The doctor today did find a couple of minor issues that need to be dealt with but we won't have full results until January. At least I'm not dealing with this whole other mess. If I had the energy, I would be really angry. Instead, I'm just focusing on the fact that I won't actually have to be dealing with that issue and I'll do my best to let it go.

On the plus side, maybe now finally I can concentrate on enjoying Christmas!

Confession: I'm not that picky

I have a confession to make... I drink wine from a box. And I like it.

I'll give you a moment to recover from the shock. Or not.

Truth is, I adore wine but I don't like spending a lot of money on it. I challenge myself to keep it under $10 for a bottle and have found some nice wines in that range. I'm sure someone with more refined tastes would scoff but if it satisfies me, that's what matters.

Anyways, back to the boxes. Even with my inexpensive tastes, I've always looked down on boxed wine (the same as I do on wine with a screw top). That is, until I came home one night to see a box on my counter.

me: What is that?
Joe: Wine.
me: Yes, but why is it in a box?
Joe: It was less expensive.
me: For a reason. It's going to taste icky.
Joe: No, it's not. It's the exact same wine you drink out of a bottle, only it cost less for more. Win win!

He was right, of course. Which makes me want to kick things (no, not puppies).

This means the new rule is that we don't buy anything in a box that we haven't enjoyed from a bottle. So far our list includes Turning Leaf Pinot Noir and Pinot Evil (another pinot noir with an awesome monkey on the label).

There you have it, my first Sunday confession. A little weak but I need to ease myself into the juicier stuff.

Better to give than to receive

Every year, Christmas shopping seems to go the same way. We focus first on gifts for family because they're out of town and we have to ship things out. Of course we always usually never meet our projected dates for that. Then, we move on to shopping for each other. By the time this happens, we're nearing shipping deadlines and panicking to spend our budgets for each other. This means he gets a very Amazon Christmas.

That brings us to where we are today. Since I so awesomely suggested cutting our budgets by half, we're both almost done. Oddly enough, we both have about $15 left to spend. Joe mentioned last night maye going to the mall today. Of course, he doesn't pick just any mall - he picks the biggest, craziest, most panic-attack-inducing mall in the area. I asked why that mall and it goes something like this:

me: So why that mall?
Joe: I don't know.
me: I think that mall appeals to you for the same reason it freaks me out - so big and so many choices.
Joe: I guess we don't have to go to that mall. Mainly I wanted to go to Nordstroms. They're having a huge sale.
me: Oh?
Joe: Yeah, their twice annual mens sale. They do the mens and womens sales twice a year at different times and now it's mens sale time.
me: You want to go Christmas shopping for me at the mens sale?
Joe: Well, that might've been for me.
me: Do I need to explain to you how this whole "Season of Giving" thing works?

However, since my mind has decided not to let me sleep the last few nights, I was reading Angie's blog at 3am. She linked to a giveaway that caught my attention. Pooba is giving away Bath & Body Works awesomeness. And because I never win anything, I think while Joe's shopping for himself at Nordstroms, I might just make my way to Bath & Body Works.

If only Amazon keeps their end of the bargain, Christmas should be arriving on Tuesday and Wednesday. Otherwise, Joe will have to grant Santa a bit of a lateness buffer.

ETA: Scratch that. The sale isn't this weekend. He'll have to wait a week to shop for me at the mens sale.

Restraint

Main Entry: re·straint

Pronunciation: \ri-ˈstrānt\

Function: noun

1. what I'd like to use on the nurse's wrists while I punch her in the mouth for screwing up twice on my medical records
2. maintaining enough self-control to not punch the idiot nurse in the mouth for screwing up twice with my medical records

No nurses were harmed either before or after the creation of this post.

No such thing as free lunch

The holidays bring about many opportunities to break bread with different groups of folks. Unfortunately for me, that includes multiple occasions that involve eating with my coworkers.

First, there was our Thanksgiving luncheon. The most Thanks I had to be giving involved the fact that it was only our department. Me and five guys. We all brought something in and I was in charge of dessert. One guy brought in chips and soda. One brought in a delicious pasta salad. My boss, who lives by the mantra "anything worth doing is worth overdoing", picked up 4 massive subs (they were cut in thirds, nobody ate more than a third), more chips, and cookies. Another guy brought in a pumpkin pie (which, umm, I was in charge of dessert, punk!). And the final guy brought in Brunswick stew.

For those of you not familiar with Brunswick stew, here's a recipe. The taste isn't awful but the smell is like rotting meat like dog chow atrocious and the consistency in your mouth is mealy like a rotten apple. And that's not the worst part. When my boss questioned him about the half-eaten bag of corn chips he also brought in, he said those were to go on top of the stew. He was going to stop and pick up a new bag but (brace yourself) since his family had eaten more of the stew than he realized, he didn't have much stew left to bring in anyways. Am I the only one that finds that revolting? It's potluck, not leftovers. His family ate that stuff all week apparently after they made it for a church fundraiser the previous weekend. Nasty.

Then there's our company-wide holiday luncheon. The Human Resources department goes absolutely insane to make sure it's "holiday" and not "Christmas". Which is then followed up by the actual event opening in prayer and one employee singing a song that was not only overtly Christian but wasn't even a Christmas song. I'm not anti-church by any means but good grief! Then they manage to drag the lunch out to two hours in ways that leave just about everyone there feeling inappropriate and harassed. And there's not even any alcohol to lessen the sting!

And finally, today was our department Christmas lunch. This year, the boss decided we would go out. We went to a nice local chain bar and the food was delicious. The problem was the company I was dining with. My boss has bronchitis, diagnosed just yesterday. He spent the entire meal gagging and coughing. Two other coworkers also seem to be coming down with it. One has a sore throat and they're both hacking up a lung as well. And I had the pleasure of riding in an elevator and vehicles with them, in addition to eating my meal in close proximity. Then of course they all spent the entire meal talking about football and what a crock global warming is.

I guess I should just be glad we didn't do potluck again. I wouldn't have been able to eat with everyone sick like that, knowing they had prepared food. And given the world right now, I should also be happy I have a job, especially one that tortures poisons provides me with social eating opportunities.

HALP!!!

Just a brief cry for help. I'm not new to blogging but I'm fairly new to Blogger.

Is there a way to somehow see posts I've commented on from other blogs? I know you can subscribe to see all follow-up comments but the few times I've tried that it's been overwhelming. I didn't know if maybe there's something I'm not seeing (in the Dashboard maybe?) that would just show me which posts I've commented on so I could go back and check them.

Because I love receiving comments so much and it's the season of "better to give than receive", I've been trying to comment a lot but then I lose track.

Anyways, if anyone knows, I'd appreciate some direction.

Otherwise, back to some regular hopefully less boring content later today!

Christmas obligations

I'm supposed to be shopping for Christmas gifts this afternoon online. No, truly, I'm supposed to be working from home. But whatever. So yeah, I told myself I'd spend the afternoon finishing up shopping for Joe. Everyone else is done. I may have to turn in my woman card though - I'm totally failing at shopping.

I even convinced him to cut the budget in half because I am awesome.

me: Know why you're the luckiest man in the world?
Joe: Why?
me: Because you're married to me.
Joe: Oh.
me: Thanks for the enthusiasm. Don't you want to know why?
Joe: I'm sure you'll tell me either way.
me: I want to talk to you about cutting our Christmas budget for each other by half.
Joe: What's the catch?
me: Raincheck. I want to spend money when our house project is finished.
Joe: Yeah, I bet there's still a catch somewhere. I'll find it.

That Joe, master detective. Good to know he's on the case even though I truly just wanted to spend more later instead of now. But now I'm also glad we cut the budget because I'm having trouble shopping for him. Mostly it's pressure I put on myself because he is so awesome and I just want to make him happy.

Instead, I am going to finish addressing my Christmas cards. Wanna see them? I designed them myself.

Front:



Inside:

Unfortunately, I designed them before I found my Christmas spirit. It was definitely during the phase of "pretend you're excited for the holidays and maybe you'll even fool yourself".

Maybe I should consider redesigning them. Or not sending them at all, which I like even better.

Merry Christmas ya'll. Back to shopping!

So many kids and none of them mine (yay!)

As part of my grand scheme to rule the universe achieve world peace get over my anxiety enough to go out sometimes like a big girl, Joe and I went out to a movie and dinner over the weekend. It was another success to add to my list and I'm feeling quite proud. Today, dinner 15 minutes from home, tomorrow, I stage a hostile takeover of Sweden.

Anyways, it seemed that our carefully chosen semi-adult evening was still somehow kids night. Which is ok, I don't hate kids by any means. Some are even cute (SisterFriend's little Z is so adorable I just want to smoosh his face!). Especially when I've had my daily happy pill. We were mainly trying to dodge crowds and chaos to keep me sane. And kids are a complicated issue for me.

At the movie (Bond, James Bond), there was an adorable little boy seated behind me with his folks. He adorably kicked the back of my seat throughout the movie and yet that wasn't the annoying part. The annoying part was that the child did not speak English, which resulted in someone constantly explaining to him in Spanish what was going on and being said on screen. It was like watching the entire movie with a translator in my ear.

Still, I was cool. Chill. Off to dinner at a Mexican restaurant. I'm not sure how to describe it exactly. It's not quite upscale but it's nicer than On The Border. I'd say it's more sophisticated Mexican and not typically a place you'd expect a lot of children. We were seated in a cool booth near the bar. In the booth behind me was the sweetest little guy. Sometimes, I thought he was going to crawl over the seat and join us for dinner. Other times, it sounded like he was gearing up to eat my face. ROAR!!!

But the best moment came when dinner was done and we were waiting for the check. We decided to make a couple of stops on the way home so I figured it was a good idea to use the restroom before we left. I made my way very carefully down the hall (because I had some wine and didn't want to fall on my face) and found a young girl in there, probably between the age of 5 and 20 (I'm not good at judging ages). Actually, maybe about 9? She was washing her hands and singing "Winter Wonderland" when I entered. Very charming. When I came out of the stall, she was still there, singing, now cleaning the counter. This is when she chose to engage me in conversation.

Girl: Hi.
me: Hi.
Girl: Don't mind me, I'm just cleaning.
me: Is the restaurant making you work for your dinner?
Girl: No, I just don't want to go back to my table.
me: Oh? Why not?
Girl: My stepdad's out there. And he's an a$$hole.
me: I'm very sorry to hear that. Don't you think you'll be missed if you stay in here too long?
Girl: Mom's too busy with the a$$hole to notice.

I wasn't quite sure what to say to that. I considered tackling her and washing her mouth out with soap due to her language. But I figure if she's old enough to deal with an a$$hole stepdad, she's old enough to label it as she sees fit. Plus, I was fighting a considerable case of the giggles.

Christmas Pick-Me-Up

A special welcome to those visiting as part of the Christmas in Bloggyland Tour. Hope you're staying warm on your travels.

I've been trying to think of something Christmas-y to share today. I've had a tough time finding my holiday spirit this year so maybe I could take advantage of my new visitors to pose a question:

When you've got the Christmas blues, what do you do to turn it around?

Is there a song or a movie? A memory or a snack? Maybe it's church or family.

For me, there are a few choice decorations at home that always help me find my Christmas joy. One is an ornament from my grandfather. Another is my grandmother's nativity. They both passed away many years ago but these two things bring back a lot of memories from Christmases long ago.

Then, there's Charlie Brown. Every Christmas eve, we make hot cocoa and I watch his Christmas special (I have it on dvd). It involves a great deal of fun but also a great bit of quiet and reflection. And the music makes me feel all warm and fuzzy.

So what does it for you? When you're feeling glum and all the Christmas craziness gets you down, how do you find your holiday happiness again?

I hope everyone stopping in today has a fabulous holiday season, wherever you are and whatever you do. Thanks for stopping by and I look forward to reading your suggestions!

Christmas in Bloggyland Tour

I've sort of unintentionally taken the weekend off from blogging so I decided I'd be back with a vengence tomorrow. Then I saw a link to A Christmas in Bloggyland Tour. Since I'll be at my desk all day anyways, might as well!



Check it out!

If the shoe fits

This is a holiday-related post so I'm going to warn you right now that I say non-politically correct things like Christmas and Jesus and Walmart. Just in case that sort of thing bothers you, please feel free to bail now.

Specifically, I would like to address a certain Christmas song. It's one of only three that I find so horrid I must change the station immediately. The song in question is The Christmas Shoes.

For anyone unfamiliar (and I don't want to spoil it for you) the song is about a little boy in a store at Christmas, buying some shoes for his mama. The hook is that he's short on cash and his mama is dying. He wants to buy the shoes so she can "be beautiful when mama meets Jesus tonight". Of course the guy behind him in line rushes to pay for them and is jolted from his evil consumerism in time to remember the true meaning of Christmas. And then the choir of children make their final plea because if you haven't burst into tears at this part, the final push of wide-eyed youngsters should do the trick.

Touching.

Moving.

Except...

This song makes me feel bad in all the wrong ways. I don't feel bad for this kid OR his mama. In fact, I want to call Social Services. Why is this kid wandering around Walmart (c'mon, you know it's Walmart) by himself trying to panhandle strangers into buying his mama some "Made in China" shoes for $8.96? Where's his papa? I guess papa's too busy with mama to keep track of the kid. And if I happened to be the guy behind him in line I'd probably pay for the shoes just to get him to stop with the sob story and quit holding up the line.

This song makes me feel the same way I'd imagine I would feel if I kicked puppies or poked sleeping babies. (For the record, I have never kicked puppies. I may have poked a sleeping baby or two, but that was just to make sure they were still breathing.) I understand how I'm supposed to feel but that's not what I'm experiencing at all. I'm not proud of this but it is what it is.

I think mostly I'm just angry because I hate being emotionally manipulated. Anything too saccharin, too syrupy, too made for tv makes me feel crazy in my rebellion to prove I'm not susceptible to their ploys.

Yeah, take THAT, sorcerers of sentiment. My heartstrings will not be so easily tugged by your carefully crafted formulas. My heartstrings are impervious to your tricks. I'm not even sure I have a heart anyways, let alone the attached strings.

P.S. Ok, see what you people (Lyndsay, I'm looking at YOU!!!) make me do? I actually made myself go to YouTube and search for the song just so I could include a link. Do you know how messed up that's going to make my "recommended videos"? I'm crying on the inside. Again, for the wrong reasons.

P.P.S. Oh yeah, the link, complete with onscreen lyrics. Don't say I didn't warn you.

More than two

Only my husband would mistake a symbol of love for a mathematical equation.

Text conversation:

Joe: panda spec 8pm pbs
me: <3

5 minutes later, he calls me, slightly out of breath.

Joe: What's less than 3? Is something wrong?
me: Nothing's wrong. Go back to your meeting and I'll tell you how you fail when you come home.

I've only been responding to him in chat and text with <3 for the past several months. Suddenly he calls to ask if it means there's some kind of emergency? SomeMonkey suggested maybe he thought that was my secret distress code in case someone had broken into the house. She may have been poking a bit of fun (it would be in character for her). 

Joe, of course, played it cool accused me of never using <3 before as soon as he walked through the door. I made him pull out his phone and look through my messages. It was in two of the first five he checked. I then opened his laptop and searched his inbox for <3. Many, many matches (all from me - phew!). 


I said nothing. I only pointed, raised my eyebrows, smiled, and walked away. At that point, victory was mine. No point in beating a dead horse. 


P.S. "Less than three" also happens to be the number of hours of sleep I enjoyed last night. I can't wait to get home and curl up on the sofa with my slanket and naked Simon Baker episodes of The Mentalist. 

P.P.S. Please tell me you do all realize <3 is a heart on its side. Right?

I'm pretty certain the elevator wanted to keep me

So I posted about my (almost) anxiety-free weekend trip. The worst anxiety I had this weekend actually involved the stupid elevator at the hotel. I thought about devoting a whole post to it but thought that was kinda brilliant dumb. Who would want to read about my freak out over an elevator? And then I realized - probably the same people that read my rant about John Tesh. Who am I to judge?

The hotel itself was a renovated Sheraton. The lobby was nice and the room was great. A couple of minor picky issues if you really pressed me to find something to complain about but it met my basic criteria: clean and quiet with locking doors and decent wi-fi. (How else would I be able to blog about John Tesh? My priorities are SO in order!)

The trauma all revolved around the one element the hotel seemed to neglect in their upgrades - the elevator. Among my many neuroses is a strong streak of claustrophobia. Tunnels, small rooms, even sitting in the middle of an aisle instead of on the end can set me off. But fearless Joe said this elevator was making him a little nervous as well.

Everything appeared normal as we waited for the doors to open. Even after it was clear the elevator had arrived at the lobby, it paused for a long time before the doors parted. Then, they closed behind us VERY quickly. The inside was dark - no mirrors, no light-colored walls. Even the floor was black linoleum. Then, there was the "chime" indicating passage between levels. It was like a broken "bo-ing". Sad, distant, and definitely in need of repair. Or prozac.

Speaking of prozac... Once the clunky old elevator had made the ascent to the 5th floor, I was more than ready to break free. The pathetic BO-ING indicated we had arrived and I waited for the doors to open. And waited. And waited some more. Just when I was certain we had been swallowed up forever and would have to call for help, the doors slowly split.

But they didn't just open like ordinary doors. It was reminiscent of a seal breaking like when you first pop the safety lid on a jar of jam. Hermetically sealed like a coffin, gasping for air when finally they separated.

By the time we went back out that night, I had convinced myself the elevator was out to get me. Quick to lock you in and very slow to give you up once it had sucked you inside. I can only count my blessings that we weren't staying any higher than the 5th floor and no longer than one night. My sanity may not have survived additional trips in the elevator of death. Two round trips was more than enough.

Sadness

Main Entry: sad·ness
Pronunciation: \sad'ness\
Function: noun

realizing A Charlie Brown Christmas was on last night and you missed it, because even though you have it on dvd it's just not the same

A smallish victory

I went away this weekend without a single anxiety attack - I ate meals, slept through the night, and had a good time.

I'm guessing there aren't many people who can fully appreciate the weight of that statement. Unless you or a loved one suffer the kind of anxiety I do, going away overnight hardly seems like a victory. But for me, it was a major accomplishment.

Joe loves to travel. Every time he has a free day, he wants to be on the road exploring and experiencing something new. One of the things that initially brought us together was that we were both from a sheltered hick town and wanted to explore the world. He had the courage I lacked to venture out and took great joy at showing me new things.

All my life I've had great anxiety when a trip was pending. Countless times I had to cancel last minute. As far back as kindergarten I can remember being sick on field trips and I went nowhere without a barf bag. It continued through high school but by the time I reached college (and met Joe), it seemed I had grown out of these attacks.

We traveled a lot. By car, by plane, even by boat. We drove two hours for pizza and flew eight hours to Paris. We saw London Bridge and Santana and skied and played putt-putt.

But then something changed. Over the past few years, I began to re-experience horrible anxiety whenever we traveled. Sometimes it started before we left, other times I was fine until we were on the way. Recently, it had become crippling. I couldn't even leave the house for a casual meal without becoming horribly sick. Anything outside of my routine threw me into a tailspin.

So finally we're back to my original point. I sought help from a couple of sources. Day-to-day seemed to be improving. We went out for a few meals and I managed to work my way through those. And this weekend, I went away on a lovely overnight trip with my husband and had a great time. It gives me hope that better days are ahead.

John "Doom & Gloom" Tesh

Tonight, Joe and were able to enjoy a really beautiful holiday display complete with a choir singing carols and hot cocoa afterward. To keep the Christmas spirit flowing (since I've had such a rough time finding it at all this year), I scanned the radio for a station playing Christmas music.

I settled on a station playing an instrumental version of Carol of the Bells. Then, John Tesh shares with us some "intelligence". About how the current economic struggles are even affecting how we die. Average funerals cost $7k but you can DIY with some dry ice and a sturdy box for only about $1k.

He then plays some Rudolph. You know, the inspirational "you can do it" reindeer. At the next opportunity, he tells us about how some parents are being forced to choose between paying for housing/utilities/food and paying for childcare. He warned against settling for subpar childcare and said not to lock your kid in the car all day with a sandwich because you might get arrested like this other woman.

Then, falalalala, Deck the Halls, to be jolly. "Not to bum you out but I was at the mall last night and there was a kid with a cold. He was pushing the elevator buttons with his runny nose. So, like I said, not to bum you out. But I'm just sharing."

I kid you not. I may have remembered the actual songs incorrectly and I'm paraphrasing because my memory sucks, but Joe can vouch for me that the above is not in any way an exaggeration.

Merry Christmas from John Tesh, whose "Intelligence For Your Life" radio show made me want to end my life (I'm changing my will immediately to request a DIY funeral). Nobody's gonna mistake him for Santa, that's for sure!

"M" makes me merry

No, I'm not having a Sesame Street flashback. Well, not exactly. Angi_b72 over at Making Memories posted her entry in a game this morning. Since I'm having a rather low-key day (after a really rough night and being ridiculously sick this morning), I requested to play along.

She has given me the gift of "M". The rules are this: Leave a comment either here or at I guess back at Making Memories that you want to play along, and we'll send you a random letter. Then make a list of your ten favorite things, beginning with your assigned letter. That's it! (Somehow, even though I stole the rules directly from her page, I wonder if I somehow screwed them up.)

Here I go, in no particular order.

1. Music - Doesn't matter what my current mood might be, I can always find a soundtrack. Tonight, it goes a little like this. Hopefully tomorrow I'll feel more like this.

2. March - Spring, flowers, sunshine, green grass. I love Spring.

3. Mythbusters - Both fun and educational! But some episodes should not be watched during dinner. Enjoy a clip!

4. Mint - From candy to drinks, mint makes me happy and even soothes my tummy from time to time.

5. Merriam Webster - m-w.com, where would I be without you? I'd have at least 5 typos and errors per post instead of just the usual 2 or 3. In fact, I just had to look up "typos". No e.

6. Macaroni & Cheese - Specifically Grandma's recipe which I make a mean rendition of.

7. Medication - Especially migraine relief and mental meds and Midol.

8. Mentalist - Have you seen Simon Baker? 'Nuff said.

9. Mocha lattes - Chocolate AND coffee together in one place? Add some of #4 to the mix and that's pure heaven.

10. Marriage - I really don't know what I'd do without my husband. I poke fun here and there but the man is a rockstar and without him I'd be wandering around aimlessly in the woods somewhere.

So there are my ten favorites that start with M. Twas fun!

Not a fun Friday

Today should've been awesome. It's Friday. It's pay day and we get our annual holiday bonus (don't get too excited - it's not much, more of a token, but I realize I'm lucky to get even that). I have a three-day weekend ahead. I was scheduled to leave work an hour early to finally finish some paperwork at the bank.

But even as I arrived at the office, I had a feeling of foreboding. I told KarmaChameleon that I just had a feeling it wasn't going to be a great day.

Minor thing that I've been meaning to do but I finally remembered to follow-up on some test results at the dr's office, fully expecting to be told everything was negative/normal. Of course that wasn't the case or I wouldn't be posting this.

My world is in a bit of a tailspin right now. In the scheme of things, this is not a big deal. It's very unlikely that I'll be facing anything more than a minor inconvenience. But since it's happening to me, of course it's a big deal!

I see a specialist for further testing later in the month. Merry Christmas to me!

If I was having trouble finding my holiday spirit before, this certainly didn't help. It's been a long day and I'm ready to curl up with a glass of Cabernet and call it a night. I started out my morning like any other - with a nice, organized list of tasks to complete. I accomplished almost none of them. I'll catch back up tomorrow. (Some of those tasks were blog-related so I'll catch up on comments and following and such in the morning.)

Please come back tomorrow when I'll be less of a Debbie Downer. That's not the general purpose of this blog but tonight forgive me for feeling a bit self-indulgent.

Anyone seen my spine?

After several months and not a single tear, I've decided it's time to break up with my therapist once and for all. The problem is my lack of spine. See, I decided last night was our last session but I didn't actually mention that to her. I went ahead and scheduled my next appointment, put the little card in my purse and told her I'd see her in two weeks.

Maybe my expectations were wrongly based on "Hollywood" therapy. Crying and hypnosis and progress. Because what I got was small talk, shopping tips, grocery recommendations, and compliments about my hair/purse/coat/sweater/shoes. Oh, and a lot of stories about her cat.

As much as I was hesitant to the idea of therapy in the beginning, I do feel I gave it a fair try. Last night was our tenth session. Twice, she has had "epiphanies" about the deeper cause of my anxiety issues but there was never any follow-up. The next appointment, I would arrive and we'd start from scratch. She takes notes but apparently never looks at them or compares them against previous sessions. It's as if each appointment exists in a vacuum.

Anyways, I think I'll probably end up dumping her over the phone. First, I'll postpone our next "date" until after the holidays. Then, I'll kinda realize I don't need her anymore and just never call again. Finally, if she contacts me, I'll tell her "it's not you, it's me!". As in, you're wonderful, I'm cured! Thanks, have a nice life! She's a bad therapist and I guess I'm a bad girlfriend.

Yeah, I'm a wimp. But at least I'm not breaking it off over text or email. Hmm, I wonder if she has an email address listed on her website...

One is the loneliest number

The voices in my head are getting lonely. They want someone to talk to besides each other.

Or Joe. Conversations with Joe make us want to bang our head against the wall sometimes. Like this:

me: I hate it when I look up the spelling of a word and both options are correct. How would you spell "worshiped"? One P or two?
Joe: One.
me: How about canceled?
Joe: No Ps in canceled.

Gee, thanks. Don't ever forget that he's the one with the MBA!

Anyways, another blog I read (I Used to be Witty - and don't let her fool you because she still is) linked to The Secret is in the Sauce (SITS). SITS is all about comment love. Just look for the snazzy SITS logo (like I'm now displaying to the right - see it over there?) and comment away. I'm not above begging!

So my plan for December is to show some comment love in hopes of seeing some comment love. Or, in other words, giving the voices in my head someone else to talk to. Twitter was a total failure for me yesterday and caused a panic attack so we'll see how this goes.

Even when I win, I lose

I know it's the holiday season but lately, everyone wants my money. I'm so tired of money. Not that I have a ton of it but I'd like to give what I do have away just so when people ask for some, I can say "oh, sorry, I have no money!"

• Amazon.com has their annual "vote on your favorite deals" thing. Which I did. And I was selected!!! Which means that because I won, they're inviting me to spend my money on their site.
• A family member sent me wish lists for her, her husband, her baby, and her car. Yes, her car. (Also, "Ask Aunt Cate for the big presents. She has more money than Grandma.")
• I've already griped about the church asking for pledges. Then after you make your pledge, they send a letter saying "Thanks - think you could consider sending MORE than that?".

Except if people think you have no money, then they bother you about how you can make some! I'm a friendly girl (that's friendly, not slutty) and that often leaves me open to solicitation (for sales, not prostitution - what the hell is wrong with you people?).

• Pyramid scheme freaks approach me at Target. "Do you happen to know what time it is? Oh, nice watch. Wanna sign up under us to sell some soap?"
• I decided to start following more folks on Twitter, mostly to see if some would follow me. So I went to some ranking of "Most Awesomest Twitterers EVER!!!", added a bunch. And I swear 9/10 were trying to tell me how to use Twitter to make money.
• Also, the people who have "found" me on Twitter on their own have been all about making me money. Nice of them but if they really care about making me money, it would be easier for them to send a check. And I think really it's somehow about making them money.

Sidenote: I wouldn't mind making millions from my blog/Twitter/belly button lint, but it's not my primary goal. I just wanna be loved and adored and worshipped by millions. I'm making up for my lack of real-life friends with internet comrades.

Anyways, this post is not about that. Maybe the next post will be about that. This post is about... Wait, did I have a point when I started?

He's an ex for a reason

Are we required to have good reasons for all the decisions we made in our youth? I present the following conversation as an example:

me (referring to online pic of (now bald) ex-boyfriend with his new baby): I used to make out with that guy.
Joe: Why?
me: Dunno, seemed like a good idea at the time.

Also, I was about 15 when this happened. Besides the fact that I probably shouldn't have been making out with an 18-year-old when I was 15, am I expected to have a good answer for "why"?

• Because he was nice to me.
• Because 90210 was a repeat and I was bored.
• Because it was Tuesday.

Actually, those work just as well as the justifications I give for my actions now.

Joe: Why did you walk into that post?
me: Because it was there.
Joe: You didn't see it?
me: My eyes were closed.
Joe: While you're walking down the street?
me: The sun is bright.

Joe: Why did you use paprika instead of cinnamon on the toast?
me: Because it was dark.
Joe: Why didn't you turn the light on?
me: I'm conserving electricity like you're always talking about.

I don't understand why my reasons aren't good enough for him. He's hard to please, my husband...

Men are from Mars

Earlier tonight, I decided to share one of my favorite new shows with Joe since he rarely watches tv. About five minutes into The Mentalist, this happened:

Joe: That guy (referring to Simon Baker) looks fake.
me: Fake?
Joe: Yeah, fake.
me: Yeah, totally fake. As long as by "fake" you mean "completely and totally hot".
Joe: Umm, no.

This is the last time I bother sharing anything with Joe. There's absolutely no respect. Even though the conversation about The Mentalist took place only about an hour after this conversation about the movie Get Smart:

Joe: I think that chick in the movie was hot.
me: Anne Hathaway?
Joe: Mmm, yeah.
me: She's very pretty. I'm a big fan of hers. That's why I dragged you to see her other movie a couple of weeks ago.
Joe: She was in that other movie?
me: Rachel Getting Married? Yeah, she was in it. She was the lead.
Joe: Oh, I didn't notice.

Guess she wasn't hot enough for him in that one.

My tummy is rumbly

What's that weird feeling I'm experiencing? Nope, it's not Hardees-induced indigestion. Could it be... hope? Optimism?

It's been so long since I've felt hopeful, it's hard to recognize but I'm pretty sure that's what it is.

Yes, today, for the first time in a very long while, I feel hopeful. A few things seem to be going my way after everyone decided to rain on my parade all at once.

Thanksgiving is tomorrow - it'll be nice to have something to celebrate!

A brief boring status report

I feel like I should blog, preferably something entertaining, but I'm unfocused and unmotivated.

However, I did manage to go out to dinner with my husband last night. Not a big deal to anyone else on the planet but it's progress for me. My anxiety had reached such levels that I couldn't even go out for a casual meal with Joe without having a panic attack, becoming sick, and just picking at my food while I waited for him to finish and the waiter to bring me a box.

Last night, I had a wave of panic while purusing the menu. Who knew Kaiser rolls could be so trauma-inducing? I closed my eyes, took a breath, and pleaded with myself to relax. Which I did after about 5 seconds that felt more like an hour.

The food came, the $2.75 pints came, and we enjoyed our meal. First time that's happened in months.

Baby steps. I'm still working on it.

Properly Aligned

Regarding my zombie status:

me: think i'm gonna dump my therapist tonight
so that's woohoo good times
SomeMonkey: so you're gonna be on the prowl again?
me: i'm gonna just run amuck for awhile
i don't believe i'm a danger to myself or society at large
SomeMonkey: except for falling asleep at the wheel
me: that's why i just had an alignment on my car
less likely to swerve off the road now
SomeMonkey: i don't think proper alignment can save sleep driving
me: but it can't hurt the situation any!

Don't try this at home, kids!

Zombie

Main Entry: zom·bie
Pronunciation:\ˈzäm-bē\
Function: noun

1. a person who appears to be lifeless, apathetic, or totally lacking in independent judgment
2. a corpse brought to life by witchcraft

3. Or me, recently, on my meds. That first definition is, pardon the pun, dead on.

I feel very muddled, like I'm moving through quicksand and the wheels in my brain are stuck in mud. I've been told I have a dirty mind before but this is ridiculous! By 2pm most days, I'm literally falling asleep at my desk.

So what I'm wondering is if taking my meds at night instead will help me sleep (note: I'm not actually having problems sleeping) or if they'll just keep me from any chance of waking up on time. My boss would define that as an inconvenience bad thing fireable offense. Of course, I don't know if this would be better or worse in his eyes than the whole napping-at-my-desk-with-my-head-propped-up-on-a-water-bottle thing.

On a positive note, my anxiety issues haven't been as bad lately. Mostly because I'm too tired to care. Is that how they're supposed to work? I thought the doctor explained something about seratonin reuptake but what she must've meant was "you'll be in a catatonic state that will render you incapable of giving a damn if you're speaking in front of a crowd or if someone has set your house on fire".

Zombies don't care about that kind of stuff. Because they're dead. It must be really good to be a zombie. Minus the smell.

In your head, in your head,
Zombie, zombie, zombie,
Hey, hey, hey.
What's in your head,
In your head,
Zombie, zombie, zombie?

PS: How do you spell "fireable"? Because spellcheck hates everything and nobody responded to my tweet. Which makes me afraid it's another word I've made up. Like unprobable. Or snoosh.

Better door than a window

I just returned home from a hockey game, which my team won in a shootout. For those of you who unfamiliar with hockey, this means it was tied, we played OT and remained tied, and then we all just randomly shoot pucks at the net til someone is declared the winner. Or something.

Anyways, we won, so yay! However, this is the third game I've been to and it appears the guy in front of me is going to be at all the same games. Either he bought a full-season plan or the same partial-season plan.

My seat has an awesome view even though it's in the nosebleeds. Or, at least, it should. Behold my view:

Seriously. I can kinda look around him by craning my neck out at an unnatural angle to the right. But every time play comes to our end of the ice, this guy gets excited and stands up. He's like a linebacker. With spiky hair. I have this urge to mess up that stupid spiky hair. He's too old for that crap anyways.

But, yay, my team won. And still I find a reason to be angry. Issues, I clearly have them.

Sundays are for snoozing

I think if they really wanted you to go to church, services would be on Saturday instead of Sunday.

Yesterday morning, I was awake at 6am. This is typical for me on Saturdays. And leads to me being completely exhausted by Saturday night. Sunday mornings, my body desires to sleep in. Way in. Which generally means sleeping through church (as opposed to sleeping at church).

Oops.

These days, you can't even trust popcorn

I should preface this with something witty. Or at least make an attempt. But I don't want to and you can't make me.

me (listening to Crocodile Rock): naaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

lalalalalalaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

lalalalaaaaaaaaa

lalalalaaaaaa

that loses something in translation

also, i'm feeling tired/lazy, otherwise i'd go change the cd

SomeMonkey: lol

me: i'm not nearly as perky as this

SomeMonkey: you sure you didn't drink at the movie?

me: only diet coke

not sure what Joe sprinkled on the popcorn though

told him to choose

and who REALLY knows what's in those things

SomeMonkey: fairy dust

me: unattended white powder, great idea!

yes, more of that please!

SomeMonkey: i swear, it's not of the "don't check your mail" variety! it's awesome on popcorn!

me: and in brownies?

SomeMonkey: however you want to give it to your politician is great

And yes, our indie theatre does sell alcoholic beverages so Monkey wasn't necessarily asking a silly question. She rarely does.

This is a test

This is only a test.  Had this been an actual post, I'd like to think it would be at least a little more interesting.

Or maybe not.

This concludes our test.  Stay tuned for further instruction.

Beggars

I've finally put my finger on what bothers me about the church we regularly sometimes occasionally attend:

See it? "Make a Pledge" comes before "Welcome". It's like "give us your money and then we'll welcome you". The priorities seem clear.

To be fair, the church and its people have been very warm and welcoming. But the cynical part of me remembers growing up in a small town where everyone at the church was constantly in your business. That part of me is always waiting for the shine to wear off.

In this case, the shine wore off mostly around money issues. We were welcomed first but since then it's been a steady stream of asking for cash. Donations to the capital campaign. Annual pledges. This special event, that special cause, this group, that project.

And of course once you're involved enough to start getting a feel for how the church is spending that money, you start thinking about how you'd do it differently. Or, more accurately, how you think they're doing it wrong.

For example, last week we received something in the mail from the church on 4 out of 6 days. It ranged from newsletters to brochures in envelopes to glossy full-color postcards. When I consider the money they're spending/wasting on printing and postage, it makes me angry and less inspired to donate to them. Also, Joe and I are fairly environmentally friendly folks so the crazy amount of paper (a lot of which isn't recyclable) really makes us nuts.

Anyways, I'm just feeling cranky about it all I think. I do understand that churches need money to run. But while the specifics may vary from church to church, the constant remains that church politics always obscure the positives of the experience for me eventually.

Which is a large reason I'm more inclined to give to other charitable organizations. Like the SPCA and George Costanza Human Fund.

SWYMM: Baby Edtion

Say What You Mean Mondays - actual quotes from actual people. People who often have at least one foot in their mouth.

This week, several quotes on the topic of babies!

"Short term disability is for pregnancy and other illnesses." The obviously pregnant HR lady explaining benefits at my new job.

"This medication is safe if you decide to have a baby for some reason." My doctor, discussing my happy pills.

"You don't exactly seem like the nurturing type." Obnoxious co-worker, to me, when I said I was going to see my sister's new baby.

PS: Must be I have quite the reputation because then this happened:

me: I started a new post while you were gone
about babies!!!

SomeMonkey: and how you eat them?

me: no, don't be silly

i don't eat babies

i kick them

Can't imagine WHY I have this reputation. Totally undeserved.

What's the point?

Like everything else in life, it appears I have my horse before the cart, posting entries before I've even formally introduced myself or the purpose of the blog. And yet, this is a pretty apt representation of who I am.

Everything I do, it needs to have some purpose. I'm not just randomly blogging about any old thing. Well, it actually is about any old thing. I have another blog that's a basic boring diary of my life. Very factual and very vanilla. The purpose of this blog is to allow me the freedom I can't have in the other one to post things that wouldn't be appreciated by my very conservative family and coworkers. Also, some things are none of their business (like religion and anxiety issues and politics). This blog is about having some anonymity. Not that anonymity = license to be a jerk. Just an outlet to be a little more honest and creative.

At the same time, I often find myself jumping into projects head-first before I've really thought them out and organized them thoroughly. This isn't necessarily as contradictory as it sounds. I usually know WHY I'm doing something, I just haven't thought through the HOW. Which is why it will be somewhat about "any old thing".

So, I guess a bit bizarrely, my more anonymous blog is actually the place where I feel I can be the most open and true to who I am. Hence the name I chose, Show My Face.

By way of a less abstract introduction, you can call me Cate. I have a husband, two cats, no babies, and a boring job. As I mentioned in my survey post awhile back, I'm a former Yankee girl now living in the South. I hate ignorance and do my best to ignore hate. My free time is spent mostly reading, writing, running, or meditating (more accurately, breathing - I'm a big fan of breathing).

There, the niceties are out of the way. More babble, incoming!

Like a big girl

Tonight, I did something that most folks wouldn't think twice about. But for me, it was a big deal.

First, a teensy bit of background. The condensed version is that I have a lot of anxiety issues. And by "a lot", I mean therapist and medication levels of anxiety. Most of my issues deal with breaking out of my routine and pushing beyond my comfort/familiarity zone. Basically, your every day agoraphobia with a side of claustrophobia and a sprinkling of general panic.

Anyways, back to tonight.

I went to a hockey game. By myself. Without Joe. And did not have an anxiety attack. Or die. This is a major accomplishment for me.

The arena is very near home and we've been to games many times. In fact, that's how I ended up going tonight - we actually have a mini-plan (about a dozen games spread throughout season) that included this game. Joe had to be out of town and didn't sell the tickets before he left so my option was either to completely waste both tickets or go by myself.

I caught a ride with a friend of Joe's that has seats a few sections over and off I went. Since the game wasn't sold out, I was able to move over with the friend after the first intermission.

Lessons I learned:

1. A large (24 oz?) beer is too much for me. I usually split it with Joe and apparently he drinks most of it.
2. Without someone to hold your beer for you, you can't take off to the ladies' room. Until you finish your beer. Which makes you have to pee even more. 24 oz in one 20 minute hockey period is a lot!
3. I'm not the jinx for our team, Joe is. When we both went to a game a week ago, they lost. This time, they won.
4. Not only did attending the game without Joe NOT kill me, it was actually fun!

Why am I sharing this here? Because, as I said, Joe is out of town. And when I tried to share my accomplishment with him on the phone, well, the satisfaction level was fairly low due to other shiny objects requiring his attention. So I'm proud, even if it's a dumb and small thing, and I felt the need to fully share somewhere. Consider yourself blessed. You're my new BFF.

Sound of silence

The day after. Votes have been counted, speeches given, parties partied. Congratulations President-Elect Obama.

And I woke up to a world that feels somehow empty.

Some magical fairy came overnight and took down all of the signs in our neighborhood for the various winning and losing candidates. The streets are bare.

Also, the house is eerily quiet. The phone has only rung once and it was Joe. No matter how many times I put us on the Do Not Call registry, he still manages to call here.

Still, there's a sense of "now what?". This campaign season built up for two years until it recently became so all-encompassing that it seemed we ate and drank election news. Especially living in a battleground state.

Now that everyone has spoken, the silence is deafening.

*crickets*

PS: Not silent? Me, chatting away while watching the results come in last night. However, at one point I had to go upstairs to discipline an unruly Republicat and Democat. I left my laptop with Joe and came back to find the following in my chat window:

[22:10] KarmaChameleon: *sighs*
[22:11] CallMeCate: this is not Cate
[22:11] CallMeCate: is her man
[22:11] CallMeCate: wazzzup?
[22:12] KarmaChameleon: Hi joe
[22:12] CallMeCate: gobama
[22:12] KarmaChameleon: indeed
[22:12] CallMeCate: ftw

Guess that gives away who Joe voted for. Also, he is no longer allowed to hold my laptop when he's drunk.

An election day update

Yesterday morning, I made a discovery that I was sure would make Joe's day. So I called him on my way to work:

me: I'm going to get your day off to a great start by telling you something that will bring you extreme joy. Ready?
Joe (mumbling because he is not quite awake): Huh? Yeah, sure, ok.
me: You know how the neighbors had two signs up for Team A and they were making you crazy? Well, they both blew down overnight. And one of them is in OUR yard! Which is officially litter so you can throw it away.
Joe: What?
me: You get to trash one of those yard signs! They won't be able to put it back up!
Joe: That's what you called to tell me?
me: You're welcome.

First - I hate that there's no way to slam a cell phone when you disconnect. If someone wants to come out with that feature, I'm first in line to purchase.

Second - How can my husband be so ungrateful? Given all the anger and drama those signs caused, I thought he'd be overjoyed at the idea of throwing one away. His lack of enthusiasm was appalling.

Third - And after all that? I found out that he actually returned the sign to the neighbors' porch. I KNOW!!! And they promptly returned it to their front yard. At least there's only one sign up now instead of two.

PS: It's election day, folks. Make sure you go vote!

Average Joe

Two facts about my husband:

1. He has a very common name (Joe)
2. He has a great and well-deserved sense of self-confidence (depending on the day and my mood, I might instead say he has a big head)
   

Because "Joe" is such a common name, he often finds himself in groups where he is not the only one. In these situations, some sort of differentiating nickname is often used when discussing the various Joes. He has been Tall Joe, Running Joe, Joe from New York, Joe the Programmer, Joe Momma (don't ask).

No, he is NOT Joe the Plumber. Totally different Joe, thankyouverymuch.

This past week, Joe was at a conference for work and there was, of course, another Joe. The chosen differentiation by his colleagues? Refer to the other Joe as "Important Joe".

I asked what that made him. Unimportant Joe? Average Joe? Loser Joe?

"No, just Joe".

Is it unwifely of me to be somewhat tickled that there was an Important Joe that was not him? You know it had to burn a little...

Redundant

Main Entry: re·dun·dant

Pronunciation: \ri-ˈdən-dən(t)\

Function: adjective

not the fact that you have TWO Obama stickers on your Prius so much as the fact that you felt the need to put an Obama sticker on your Prius at all

Seriously, it's assumed. If you drive a Prius and you're voting for McCain, THAT's worthy of a sticker!

Separate checks?

After grabbing burgers at Jack Astor's, Joe was eating leftover fries off my plate when our waitress approached.

Waitress: Will that be separate checks this evening?
me (in-my-head): Yes, two checks, and please charge this jerkface for half my fries!
Joe (for-realz, while giving me the look): Just one check will be fine, thanks.

Why would the waitress assume a man and woman out for dinner, just the two of them, would want separate checks? Did I somehow look unworthy of my husband?

Maybe if it was lunch during the week and we were in business attire. But a man and a woman on a Saturday night? Yes, there are situations which may warrant separate checks. Dating but going dutch would be one. Friends dining together would be another. Isn't it far more likely though that the pair are a couple of some sort? Even if it's a date, last time I checked the man usually ponies up the cash. Otherwise, he's severely handicapping his chances of getting any.

PS: After all that, my husband left her a huge tip. "What, she's quite pregnant, in case you didn't notice. She's serving for two!"

Which, I think, is absolutely brilliant. Pad your tummy, pad your tips. I bet everyone tips the pregnant lady generously. If I ever take a job as a waitress, I'm totally getting a fake baby belly.

Endangered species

I was excited to tell my friend, SomeMonkey, about a recent meal I had with Joe at a seafood restaurant:

me: did you know you can eat dolphin?
i thought it was illegal for some reason
SomeMonkey: did you know there is a fish called "dolphin"?
me: ooooooooooooh
i bet that's it!

She's pretty smart for a monkey.

Who am I?

I'm not feeling very original today but thought I could introduce myself by way of survey. Really, I'm not a big fan of this kind of thing so you won't be seeing much of it here. Just trying to fill in a few of the blanks about who I am, in case anyone cares.

Name: you can call me Cate
Birthday: 3/26
Birthplace: the North
Current Location: the South
Eye Color: brown like a cow
Hair Color: brown like a chocolate lab
Height: 5'4"
Right Handed or Left Handed: right
Your Heritage: diverse but mostly western European
The Shoes You Wore Today: red patent leather kitten heels
Your Weakness In Men: brains and wit
Your Fears: spiders, car flags, death
Pet peeves: ignorance and getting my name wrong
Your Perfect Pizza: banana peppers
Goal You Would Like To Achieve This Year: world peace and global celebrity
Thoughts First Waking Up: "Beats the alternative"
Your Best Physical Feature: elbows
Your Bedtime: quarter past boredom
Pepsi or Coke: Pinot Noir
McDonalds or Burger King: Hardees or Bojangles
Chocolate or Vanilla: chocolate
Cappuccino or Coffee: coffee
Do you Smoke: no
Do you Swear: more than I like to admit
Do you Sing: only in the car and shower
Have you Been in Love: several times
Do you want to go to College: already did
Do you want to get Married: already did
Do you believe in yourself: I totally exist, just like the Easter bunny and armadillos
Do you get Motion Sickness: yes
Do you think you are Attractive: on a good day
Are you a Health Freak: I run and try to eat healthy
Do you get along with your Parents: there's a reason we live 600 miles apart
Do you like Thunderstorms: yes
Do you play an Instrument: guitar, piano
Ever been called a Tease: maybe...
How do you want to Die: old
What do you want to be when you Grow Up: happy
What country would you most like to Visit: as many as possible
Number of things in my Past I Regret: none, they've all made me who I am (though maybe the jalapenos just before bed last Tuesday)

On (Not) Writing

A year ago, I wanted to be a writer. No idea what that meant, but that was the plan. Move from my current job into marketing? Copy editing? Maybe a job at a newspaper or magazine? I took classes, wrote my heart out for NaNoWriMo, read books about writing, and scribbled fabulous notes full of story ideas and characters and scenes.

Ready to put my plan into action, I slaved away for months developing a brilliant project that would meld my love of the interwebz with creative writing. Many hours were spent devising the technical approach and brainstorming the story idea. With my plan of attack thoroughly developed, I enlisted the help of a writer-friend and a coder-friend to make magic happen. My mama (ok, someone's mama, probably not mine) always told me that if you put in the time and effort and believe, you can do anything! And I had faith that this was going to be ground-breaking and life-changing.

Instead, it failed abysmally. We did everything right. Advertised, linked, posted on related sites. People responded and visited the site! But they did not stay. Or they did not return. Or they did not discuss, which was necessary for the project to succeed. And so rather than contemplating sequels, I was left wondering where it all went wrong.

That was summer of 2007. I completed NaNoWriMo again that November and haven't written a thing since other than a stray blog entry here or there (which I don't consider 'writing' based on the type of effort/content).

I don't think I'll do NaNoWriMo again this year. I'm uninspired. I thought about taking another class and that didn't pique my interest either. Instead, I'll just blog away and see if I can relocate my elusive muse. She must be hiding around here somewhere...

Disappointment

Main Entry: dis·ap·point·ment
Pronunciation: \ˌdis-ə-ˈpȯint-mənt\
Function: noun

oatmeal raisin when you were expecting chocolate chip

Cat scurvy is contagious

Now the other cat, Tonya, has scurvy as well.

Rusty finished his 7 days of antibiotics and ear drops without causing too much damage to me and Joe but then he developed a constant sneeze and a fever. An emergency trip to the vet after work, several shots, and another $250 later, he's back on another 10 days of antibiotic pills.

While this sounds like a bad thing, that's not the worst of it. Unfortunately Tonya, our uncooperative fluffy diva cat, also started sneezing Friday night. By Monday, she was a complete snot monster, not breathing well, not eating. So another $120 later and now we have both cats on pills. At this point, I also have to believe we've paid the vet's rent for the month.

Tonya, by the way, has a reputation. Any time I call to make an appointment, I can hear the lady hold her breath while she waits for an answer to "which kitty is it?" and she prays silently that it's Rusty. Once, when Tonya was sick and they had to keep her for testing, I noticed a "DANGER: bites!" sticker on her cage. Awesome, my cat is bad-ass.

So that's the latest. This isn't actually supposed to be a cat blog. I'm not a crazy cat lady. I mean, I may be crazy. And I do have cats. But it's not like that.

Or maybe it is.

Look for something non-feline coming soon!

Caturday

Main Entry: Cat·ur·day
Pronunciation: \ˈka-tər-(ˌ)dā, -dē\
Function: noun

day on which humans wish to sleep in but are unable because kitties want to be fed at 7am

I see a nap in my future.

Apparently we have a hot neighbor

In case you haven't heard, there's a presidential election coming up in less than a month. I look forward to it all being over for a million reasons, among them the ceasing of phone calls and removal of annoying yard signs.

Note: I'm registered as an Independent. While you'd think I would get more calls because my vote's more likely to be up for grabs, I haven't received a single call or piece of mail. My husband, who has registered with his party of choice, receives constant calls and mail. Who's the smart one? (Hint: me!!!)

Anyways, back to the yard signs. I hate them. I think they're tacky and I think they don't mean anything. Everyone knows who the candidates are for the presidential race. What good does it do to put a sign in my yard advertising my vote? I'll tell you what good it does - it tells everyone my vote! Which means anyone who disagrees with my vote now has reason to target my house with trash, eggs, rocks... No, I don't live in some unsafe 'hood. I just live in my own little world of paranoia.

Joe (the husband) never mentioned signs this political season until the neighbors across the street placed not one but two (TWO!!!) signs in their yard for the opposition. We'll call them Team A so as to avoid the politics. Joe's response was that of any grown educated man - he wanted to put twelve signs in our yard for Team B. Even though we're voting for the same candidate, I said no. He argued that he was afraid everyone driving by would think our entire subdivision supports that other candidate because their house is right on the corner but finally he relented (only to put the sign in the front window of his office upstairs - don't think I didn't notice!!!) and we moved on.

So imagine my surprise to come home last night and find a yard sign sitting by the front door, ready for installation.

me: Umm, what's the deal with that?
Joe: It's a yard sign!
me: I didn't ask what it was. I asked what the deal is with it.
Joe: I was getting the mail when a neighbor stopped me. She asked if by chance I was supporting Team B. When I said yes, she asked if we'd mind putting a sign in our yard.
me: Why? What difference does it make?
Joe: She said a bunch of neighbors were afraid people driving by would think our entire subdivision supports Team A and seeing those signs makes them angry. Just like I said!
me: And you said you would.
Joe:I couldn't really say no. So she came back later and left us a sign.
me: Why couldn't you say no?
Joe: It would've been un-neighborly?
me: No, that's not why. Was she hot?
Joe: What's that got to do with it?
me (more firmly): Was she hot?
Joe: (no answer)

Which means the answer is yes and this is why I now have a political campaign sign in my front yard.

My cat has scurvy

Or maybe he's having allergy issues. But scurvy sounds much more exotic.

However, it is truly the cat-owners who are afflicted by cat-scurvy because it is up to us to administer the "cure". In this case, two drops in each infected ear and a pill. Twice daily. For seven days.

As the patient regains his health (and strength), it becomes more and more difficult to give Rusty his meds. Especially since we have to give the first dose before we're really awake in the morning. Right now, we're up to dose #3 (of 14) and already he's learned to pretend-swallow the pill before spitting it back on the carpet. He bit my husband, causing blood and drama and a large amount of cursing in the early hours before sunrise.

His pills are awesome by the way. They come with a label printed just like on my own medications from the pharmacy. It says: "Give 1 tablet by mouth every 12 hours until gone. Give with food. Notify clinic if stomach upset occurs." Rusty's not very good at telling me about his stomach upset. Unless you count that surprise he left on the hall carpet. "Hello, my cat says those pills are making him queasy. Should I give him some ginger ale and saltines or do you have another suggestion?"

Maybe the same nausea remedy for kitty will work for that feeling in my stomach when they handed me the bill.

It's a good day for blogging

New day, new start, new blog to celebrate.

Here I go!

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Cate's Bookshelf

Updated 01/01/12

2012 update: I will no longer be keeping track of the books I read here. I'm just keeping this page up for reference.

My goal for 2011 was to read a minimum of 30 books. No requirements on kind of book or length. (Goal achieved 09/01/11)

Completed Reading in 2011:

1. 01/11 - The Beach Road - James Patterson (Rating: Two Punches in the Face)
2. 01/14 - Oleander House: Bay City Paranormal Investigations - Ally Blue (Rating: Worth Every Penny I Paid)
3. 01/23 - The Thirteenth Tale - Diane Setterfield (Rating: Even Better The Second Time Around)
4. 02/01 - A is for Alibi - Sue Grafton (reread)
5. 02/08 - B is for Burglar - Sue Grafton (reread)
6. 02/15 - C is for Corpse - Sue Grafton (reread)
7. 02/22 - D is for Deadbeat - Sue Grafton (reread)
8. 03/01 - E is for Evidence - Sue Grafton (reread)
9. 03/08 - F is for Fugitive - Sue Grafton (reread)
10. 03/15 - G is for Gumshoe - Sue Grafton (reread)
11. 03/22 - H is for Homicide - Sue Grafton (reread)
12. 04/09 - The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy - Douglas Adams (#jhbc)
13. 04/27 - I is for Innocent - Sue Grafton (reread)
14. 05/06 - The Westing Game - Ellen Raskin (reread)
15. 05/07 - J is for Judgment - Sue Grafton (reread)
16. 05/08 - Zen and the Art of Happiness - Chris Prentiss (reread)
17. 05/15 - K is for Killer - Sue Grafton (reread)
18. 05/23 - The Middle Place - Kelly Corrigan (Rating: good, interesting read and not as depressing as the subject matter dictates)
19. 06/15 - L is for Lawless - Sue Grafton (reread)
20. 06/23 - M is for Malice - Sue Grafton (reread)
21. 06/28 - Wait Till Helen Comes - Mary Downing Hahn (reread - YA)
22. 07/09 - Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children - Ransom Riggs (4 stars, good book!)
23. 07/01 - N is for Noose - Sue Grafton (reread)
24. 08/02 - Tribes: We Need You To Lead Us - Seth Godin
25. 08/04 - The Help - Kathryn Stocket (#jhbc)
26. 08/14 - Rules of Civility - Amor Towles (my review for BlogHer Book Club, #bhbc)
27. 08/30 - Kick-Ass Creativity: An Energy Makeover for Artists, Explorers, and Creative Professionals - Mary Beth Maziarz
28. 08/31 - The Night of the Gun - David Carr
29. 08/31 - The War of Art - Steven Pressfield
30. 09/01 - Poke the Box - Seth Godin
31. 09/05 - Slow Love: How I Lost My Job, Put on My Pajamas, and Found Happiness - Dominique Browning (BlogHer Book Club, #bhbc)
32. 09/21 - Kane and Abel - Jeffrey Archer (#jhbc)
33. 10/07 - O is for Outlaw - Sue Grafton (reread)
34. 10/14 - My Happy Life - Lydia Millet
35. 11/01 - Bird By Bird - Anne Lamott
36. 11/27 - On Writing - Stephen King
37. 12/01 - A Lover's Dictionary - David Levithan
38. 12/19 - A Christmas Carol - Charles Dickens (#jhbc)
39. 12/28 - The Magic Room - Jeffrey Zaslow (#bhbc)
40. 12/31 - How to Be Happy, Dammit: A Cynic's Guide to Spiritual Happiness - Karen Salmansohn

Completed Reading in 2010 (goal = 25 books, did not count textbooks):

1. 01/07 - Anne of Ingleside - L.M. Montgomery (re-read)
2. 01/11 - Rainbow Valley - L.M. Montgomery (re-read)
3. 02/03 - Rilla of Ingleside - L.M. Montgomery (re-read)
4. 02/24 - Inbound Marketing: Get Found Using Google, Social Media, and Blogs (The New Rules of Social Media) - Brian Halligan
5. 2/28 - T is for Trespass - Sue Grafton
6. 03/21 - The Happiness Project - Gretchen Rubin
7. 04/01 - U is for Undertow - Sue Grafton
8. 04/01 - The 8th Confession - James Patterson
9. 04/03 - Favorite - Karen McQuestion
10. 04/09 - Run - Ann Patchett
11. 05/03 - Candles Burning - Tabitha King
12. 06/02 - Inspiration Sandwich: Stories to Inspire Our Creative Freedom - Sark
13. 07/25 - The Zookeeper's Wife: A War Story - Diane Ackerman
14. 09/01 - The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo - Stieg Larsson
15. 09/15 - The Girl Who Played With Fire - Stieg Larsson
16. 09/30 - The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest - Stieg Larsson
17. 10/15 - The House at Riverton - Kate Morton
    
18. 11/01 - Buddhism for Beginners - Thubten Chodron
    
19. 11/16 - Zen and the Art of Happiness - Chris Prentiss
    
20. 11/29 - The Distant Hours - Kate Morton
    
21. 12/12 - Runny Babbit: A Billy Sook - Shel Silverstein
22. 12/20 - In Fact: The Best of Creative Nonfiction - Lee Gutkind
23. 12/24 - Winnie the Pooh - A.A. Milne
24. 12/25 - The House At Pooh Corner - A.A. Milne
25. 12/25 - When We Were Very Young - A.A. Milne
26. 12/25 - Now We Are Six - A.A. Milne
27. 12/28 - The 9th Judgment - James Patterson
28. 12/30 - Life Guard - James Patterson

Finished in 2009:

• 12/31/09 - The Adoration of Jenna Fox - Mary E. Pearson
• 12/29/09 - Anne's House of Dreams - L.M. Montgomery (re-read)
• Anne of Windy Poplars - L.M. Montgomery (re-read)
• Anne of The Island - L.M. Montgomery (re-read)
• Anne of Avonlea - L.M. Montgomery (re-read)
• Anne of Green Gables - L.M. Montgomery (re-read)
• 06/25/09 - 7th Heaven - James Patterson (Women's Murder Club)
• The 6th Target - James Patterson (Women's Murder Club)
• A Thousand Splendid Suns - Khaled Hosseini
• The Kite Runner - Khaled Hosseini
• Devil in the White City - Erik Larson
• Atonement - Ian McEwan