Thursday, October 7, 2010

26 hours

Rachel Breidster: Is picking up where she left off yesterday. She also hates writing about herself in the third person and will cease to do so, effective immediately. :)

I: met with the inspector yesterday promptly at 12:30 and he seemed more than happy with the work that was done to the porch. I followed up his visit with a phone call to the bank that went well, and am hopeful that I will get my money back in 7-10 days.

I: had the most delicious lunch ever at Java Jazz cafe in Delmar. Hadn't eaten there in years and had this amazing hummus, avocado, lettuce, tomato, tabouli wrap. So good!

I: can't believe I admitted that when I was in fifth grade I used to pray that I would wake up and look like my barbie doll. Granted the tv show only airs in Albany County, but still, sort of can't believe I would admit that. On the other hand, I am pretty psyched that I am happy enough with where I am now that I wouldn't think twice about saying something like that on air.

I: really wish it would stop raining. This shit is so lame.

I: just got back from getting an amazing massage to address my hamstring and back pain which has been mildly crippling. I wish I could have spent two hours. Or maybe even three.

I: am still in a fair amount of back and rib pain when I'm sitting down and sometimes wish I didn't have such a "desk job."

I: just got the estimate for the spray foam insulation and almost crapped my pants. It seemed like sucha good idea yesterday. And now it seems terrifying. Time to start tallying up costs.

I: am super excited to see a friend for some catching up this afternoon. :) There will be purchasing of socks, running tights, possibly some new heels, and items for the halloween costume. :)

Wednesday, October 6, 2010

FB statuses

I mostly work alone. I have some interaction over my cubicle wall with my badass admin who I adore, but for the most part, I spend large chunks of time by myself. During that time, myriad thoughts run through my head- some of which end up as facebook statuses, because due to the nature of my job, I have no one to say them to. Sometimes I wish I could change my status every time I have a new stream of thoughts, but I don't like to do that. So instead, I'm trying to breathe new life back into my blog by making a running tally of my thoughts throughout the day here. Think of it as the FB statuses that never had their chance to shine. . . until now!

Rachel Breidster: Is seriously going through withdrawal from taking a rest day from the gym in the middle of the week. She usually only "rests" on the weekends and feels like she's missing out on a lot of fun and good fitness by taking a rest day. On the other hand, she knows it's healthier and is determined to stay away from that gym today!

Rachel Breidster: Thinks one of the best things that can happen when you turn on your car is that Paul Simon is playing on the radio. Paul Simon is (not surprisingly in my car CD player right now, but it gives me a bit more hope for humanity when djs decide to put it on for the world to hear. Little mother and child reunion anyone?

Rachel Breidster: Doesn't understand why people cut you off making left turns when it's raining outside. Frankly, she doesn't understand why people ever do this (actually, she's pretty sure she understands it- drivers are self-centered idiots who are so arrogant they think everyone else should compensate for their careless and reckless behaviors), but especially in the rain. When the car with the right of way slams on its brakes to avoid hitting you while you're making the left turn you don't really have the time for, you do realize that car will just skid when it's pouring right? Great, now it's raining and your car is crashed. Brilliant.

Rachel Breidster: Thinks she thinks too much.

Rachel Breidster: Is so thrilled that the heat is finally on at the office. She was starting to think that hypothermia was unavoidable!

Rachel Breidster: Decided to wear a red shirt today and stop being afraid to clash her clothing with her hair. The pink has been in her hair for nearly 3 weeks and you can't just eliminate all red and orange from your wardrobe just because you've got some badass pink hair. And, she's glad she did it. Red is almost as fabulous a color as pink!

Rachel Breidster: Just got really exciting news from her boss and feels all warm and fuzzy inside. :)

Rachel Breidster: Has gone way too long without seeing her nephews and really wishes she could see them sooner.

Rachel Breidster: Is getting a massage tonight in hopes that her aching back and hampstrings will be better for her to run this half marathon over the weekend. On that note, Rachel is terrified of running a half marathon this weekend and hopes the blogs she read about training for distance through crossfit were correct. She also hopes it's not cold or rainy, because she seriously might chicken out and quit.

Rachel Breidster: Will update her blog tomorrow with highlights of the previous 24 hour's "status thoughts."

Tuesday, May 18, 2010

Being a Homeowner

There's something very empowering about being a homeowner. Something that is hard to describe. I am unsure whether it is the accomplishment of what is so frequently seen as the American dream, or the sense of owning, and therefore being in control of, your own space, or whether it is just being home. We so cherish the idea of having a home- it is, after all, where our hearts are. Whatever it is, I love it.

I was recently talking to a co-worker about being a homeowner and how it has changed my weekends. By this time last year, I'd been out paddling a number of times, hiking, climbing, weekend trips- you name it. People at my last job told me that they looked forward to Mondays to hear about what I had done over the weekend. Now my weekends involve scraping, caulking, painting, mowing, sanding. It's not nearly as glorious, and yet it's still so satisfying.

My kitchen in my apartment was beautiful. Ceramic tiles, new cabinets with shiny knobs. Bright, clean, nicely painted. Here I have the floor that never cleans, no matter how many times you mop it. The walls are half plastic sheets and half bare from our wall paper removal. The appliances are old. The windows should probably be replaced. But it's still my kitchen. Every day I come home to my house.

When I was in an apartment I was very strict about the heat. No heat before November and no heat after April. Do you know I've turned the heat on probably 3 times this May? Because I can. Because it is my house. For some reason it is less of a worry. If I can pay this mortgage, I can pay an extra $50 in heating bills.

I worry a little bit less. It is my home, and if something were to happen, the consequences would be unimaginable, but I worry less. Because it is mine. I answer to myself. And there is something comforting in that. I have so much cleaning to do tonight. And tomorrow night. And the night after. I have to clean my house. Not my apartment that my landlord might see. My house. And I love it.

Saturday, May 8, 2010

Is there such a thing as too much grammar snobbery?

So I'm a self-proclaimed grammar snob. At times I make mistakes, as do most people; however, I am frequently appalled by the failure to master even the most basic of principles of grammar. Recently, one of my biggest pet peeves has been noticing the correlation between people who discuss how ignorant others are, and the lack of grammatical correctness of those people. This slays me.

Frequently it takes place in the form of hatred of one minority group or another. One week it could be immigrants. The next week it is black people. Essentially anyone who could challenge the status quo and voices an opinion that is different than what is seen as the norm is labeled as, "uneducated."

The labelers, on the other hand, aren't making much of a case for themselves. I recently participated in a Facebook dialogue in which people were disparaging the poor, based on a misrepresentation of what poverty in America looks like. The folks railing about the poor made the following types of statements:
This is what's wrong with are nation. . . (our)
There is way more people like that then you think. . . (are, than)
When you vote for people you should have to fill out a survey that your educated. . . (you're)
(About a black woman) They should send her back to Mexico. . .
I am your sister, so you no where I stand. . . (know)

Okay, so am I a total snob, or is it safe to generalize here and say that most people who are discriminatory and hateful are just plain ignorant? Anyone else see this correlation in their lives?

Wednesday, March 17, 2010

so much to do, so little to say

It strikes me as odd that I have been so busy, have had so many things going on, and yet I don't feel like I have very much to blog about.

So I'm just checking in to say that I am still here, One of these days I will write something. Soon. I promise.

In the meantime, here's the news. I own a home. And I love it. I'm in Baltimore for work. And I love that too. It's getting warmer, and that weather, well, it's beyond love.

Hope there's sunshine in your world.

Monday, February 22, 2010

everyone else is doing it. . .

So I wake up to my radio show. I drive listening to my radio show. And I'm not immune to the catchy headlines that pop up after I sign out of my email.

Everyone's talking about Tiger Woods. And the apology.

I'll admit- I didn't watch the apology. Didn't listen to the apology. In fact, I didn't even search it out to see a written transcript of the apology.
On the one hand, I feel like I need to apologize for my lack of attention to the apology. On the other hand, I will not apologize, because I have a good reason for not watching/listening/reading.

I don't care.

There. I said it. Can't take it back. Seriously, I don't care.

Do I know who Tiger is? Sure. Am I glad he is a kick ass golfer? Sure I suppose- although I'm not real big into golf. Did he provide some good discussion materials on race and ethnicity and identification in racial sociology classes in college? Sure. Who could pass up the chance to talk about identifying as Cablinasian?

Nevertheless, the truth is, I don't care that he cheated on his wife. And honestly, I'm not sure that you should care either.

Actually, I don't really care when anyone cheats on his wife. Or husband for that matter. As long as I am not the cheater or the cheatee, I don't really see how it's any of my business. I stand by the same argument with our former president. In fact, I would even say the same thing for Senator Craig who had his little gay escapade in the airport bathroom. (Although I do think it's somewhat gratifying when the gay haters turn out to be the gayest gays ever.)

But seriously, why do we care? Why does Tiger need to apologize to the public? Does he owe Elin an apology? Sure, if she wants one. He fucked up. He hurt her. But he didn't hurt me. And I don't see how he really hurt the rest of the public either. In fact, I might go so far as to say, at this point, we- the public- have hurt him more, by continually broadcasting all of the sordid details in the spotlight. Maybe we owe him an apology . . .

Then there are the people who say, but children look up to him. Yep. I hear that. [Note: I am not a parent, but the remainder of this paragraph assumes my hypothetical parenthood.] If I had kids and they were into golf, I would probably let them know about Tiger- this bad-ass golfer with a funky name. But that's about it. He's a golfer. And as far as I've heard, he's still a pretty bad-ass golfer. If my kids wanted to look up to a golfer; here's Tiger. A writer; here's Margaret Atwood. A political scholar; Noam Chomsky. But if they wanted someone to look up to for morals or virtues; here's your family. And the Dalai Lama. Because here's the thing. I can't golf. And if one day I go out to a par three somewhere, and I can't even get the ball in the hole after 10 tries, I don't think I owe my kids or the public an apology. I am not a golfer. I am an educator, an artist, and a parent. Everything else is just extra. And as a parent, isn't it my responsibility to teach children boundaries? Tiger is a golfer, not a superhero. No one can be everything. These are lessons children need to learn- shouldn't parents be teaching them?

Also, there are the mistresses who say they are owed apologies. Let me get this one straight. You slept with a married man, and you want an apology? What? I don't follow.

Don't get me wrong. There are bad people out there. There are even good people who do bad things. And when people (good or bad) do bad things, I think they owe an apology to the people they hurt. Car accidents, plagiarism, assault, lying. All hurtful things. All deserving of apologies for sure. But apologies to the people they've hurt. Not to the people who just can't take their eyes off of the train wreck.

One last thought. There are apparently quite a few people out there who, "Don't believe in infidelity." These folks are very upset with Tiger for this reason. I find this hard to believe. There are certainly things I don't believe in- the tooth fairy is a good example. But I don't believe in the tooth fairy because I have yet to see any proof that he exists. In fact, I've seen evidence to the contrary. This leads me to believe that the tooth fairy does not exist. How can one not believe in infidelity? It's everywhere! Look around. People cheat- believe it! You don't have to encourage it, or even support it, but I would strongly advise you to believe it. Seriously, it's out there.

My apologies to anyone who is inadvertently hurt by this message. . .

Wednesday, February 17, 2010

Lyrics we'll never get right

I posted a comment on FB about songs that you've been singing your entire life. . . only to find out you've been singing the wrong words!

Below is a list of mistakes I've made at one point or another. I'm really looking forward to hearing from others . . .

1. There's this girl that's been on mind. All the time. Stu stu studio. . . (Phil Collins)

2. Blinded by the light. Wrapped up like a douche another runner in the night. . . (Manfred Mann)

3. I'll get over you. I know I will. I'll pretend my shit's not stinking. . . (Go West/ New Found Glory)

4. Might as well face it you're a dick dick in love. . . (Robert Palmer)

5. You spin my head right round, right round like a razor bladey. . . (Dead or Alive)

6. And we're gonna lift you up. And we're gonna let you down. And we're gonna run around and hurt you. . . (Rick Astley)

7. He tells me in his bad news boys, "Come on honey, let's go makes some noise". . . just another manic monday. . . (Bangles)
There's definitely more- these are just a few to get you started. What songs did you sing incorrectly?

Tuesday, February 16, 2010

victories and setbacks

I've realized today that it has been about 3 months that I have been fighting with my bank to buy the house across the street. I guess it's only been 3 months since I applied. More like a month and a half- two months that I've been fighting. That's a quarter of a year. And I have to be honest, it has been a miserable quarter of a year. I am tense, sad, excited, depressed, despondent, exhausted, snippy, empty. Right now I am completely empty. I got the phone call on December 28th that my loan had been approved. I was thrilled. I had no idea it could be so difficult to go from there.

With all the back and forth with the bank I am really about to lose it. And I've kind of been in this state more or less round the clock for months. It takes up my days, my mornings, my nights. I obsess over every little detail. Will it ever work out? Will the sellers get frustrated and walk away? Will I be able to move out in time for Mike's new tenants to move in? When can the kitty come home? What will I do about the porch? What will I find when I rip off those shingles? The list goes on.

It takes up my thoughts round the clock and tonight, after another day's worth of futile phone calls, I am sorry to everyone around me who has had to deal with what a head case I have been. I am beyond exhausted and completely emotionally drained. I looked up the company's info today and drafted a letter to the president of HSBC. The website gives you the president's name, but not their address. So I called customer service, where I waited on hold for 12 minutes (5 minutes less than last week), where a man told me that the woman listed on the website is no longer president, and he was not authorized to tell me who was. He could instead, give me the name of the representatives manager. I told him I wanted the name and address to the president. He could not give me this information. I asked to speak to someone else, and what do you know, I got disconnected. I feel like I'm banging my head against the wall.

But on to the victories. Let's focus on the positive. Did you know I've been working on this sewing project for my friend Kyle's daugther forever? I finished is a few weeks ago. The picture at the top is the best I can offer. It wasn't finished without struggle.

I'm crafty, yes, but sewing with a machine has never been my forte. I finally figured it out, more or less, but still was suffering from some bobbin issues. Apparently they're pretty common. Well when I went down to Florida, I brough all of my supplies with me and set to work on my mom's fancy pants machine. Soon enough the project was well underway.

I did most of the last finishing touches by hand, and a few machine stitches, but they were done with a bobbin that was pre-loaded by a friend.

This weekend I took on a new challenge. Make a cute tote-bag. Wait till it's done, I can't wait to show off the pictures. But it definitely involved using the machine, and I didn't know how much thread I had left on my bobbin. But, I figured, it's now or never. At some point I'm just going to have to figure out this bobbin thing. So when I ran out of thread, I did. It took me a while. Not to mention in my sewing glory I sewed the handle into the bag and had to rip the stitches and then sewed the bag shut and had to rip those stitches, but practice makes perfect. By the end of the day I had some really good work done, with the help of the bobbin that I had wound and loaded all by myself. :)

Hopefully next week I'll have pictures of my latest project. I need to savor the victories. . .

Tuesday, February 9, 2010

The dislike button

After writing my blog last week, I kept thinking of things that I would become a fan of, and it turns out, there are lots of things.
-Disclosure agreements about hidden raisins
-Free food at the end of a conference or training which I had no part of organizing
-Babies that think they can walk and really they are just toddling around adorably
I could go on, but perhaps I'll wait and expand on those things at later dates.

In the meantime, here's more food for thought. You know when someone posts a status on FB, you have the option to "Like" the status, or "Comment" on the status. Sometimes you don't like the status, either because the person has expressed something unpleasant, i.e. "Jane Smith is feeling really sick to her stomach" or because they have expressed something that you disagree with, "Jane Smith thinks we should all buy hummers and stop shopping with reusable bags." Well if you're friends with Jane Smith or you care about the environment, presumably you don't like this status. You want Jane to know that you don't like this, but maybe you don't really feel like leaving a comment about it either. Hence, the need for the dislike button.

I'm not sure why FB has not given in and created it already, but in my head, there is one.

So today, I would like to talk about what I dislike.

People that drive on your side of the road and then look at you like they're appalled that you don't swerve out of their way.

What's with these people? It could be one of several things. I suppose it's possible they don't realize they're in your lane, but really? Should you be driving then, if you're that oblivious? And, if you didn't realize, and then saw that you were coming awfully close to the oncoming driver, wouldn't you give it some thought? I would. So, I feel like the first reason really doesn't even count, because how could this be?

The second option I suppose, is that your steering is broken. If this is true, you can't control your car. You didn't even know it, and now you need to get to a mechanic, because, my, this is very scary. But again, if this was the case, wouldn't the look on your face be more along the lines of, "Oh god I'm scared?". I think so. So I'm ruling this one out too.

That leaves me with my third and final option. You're pretty much an a-hole. You think that for whatever reason, you have a right to drive wherever you damn well please, and that everyone else should just move out of the way. Dislike.

Here's my bottom line. I don't have the right to drive wherever I damn well please, but I do have a right to drive in my own lane and have the reasonable expectation that I don't have to swerve out of the way of oncoming traffic. So know this, even if there's a delivery truck parked in your lane, even if it would be easier for you to cut the corner, even if your vehicle is just ginormous and mine isn't, I still have a right to proceed in my lane, and I will. Even if it means you will hit me.

Now don't get me wrong, if the delivery truck is parked in your lane, and there's no way you can get around without coming into my lane and there's a whole traffic situation where you won't be able to go unless someone in my direction stops to let you, I'll stop to let you. I'm not a big meanie.

This morning was more or less the third work day in a row where someone had cut a corner or was just driving down the center of the road, came dangerously close to my car and then looked at me like I had done something wrong. Dislike. How about we try this, you drive in your lane and I'll drive in mine. Then we can both drive safely to wherever we're going and smile at one another as we pass.

Now that's something I could become a fan of. . .

Wednesday, February 3, 2010

Becoming a fan

On Facebook, you can become a fan of just about anything. From ice cream flavors to political bents, whatever you are a fan of, you can let the world know on Facebook.

I actually don't know if I'm a fan of anything. At least not in the real (ie. Facebook) world. Part of this is my skepticism about FB apps. I do have a bookshelf and a little green patch. I think I might even have a sea garden. Oh! And a bulletin board for my flair. Other than that, as much as I might be flattered that you think I'm the most popular, or that you threw a snowball with me, passed me a drink or hit me with a pillow, I probably won't return the virtual favor. I worry about all the apps and how much they know about you. Sure I want to know how long I would survive in the Maine wilderness, and of course I want to know how gay I am! Who wouldn't? But in my state of paranoia or distrustfulness, (is that a word?), I guess I will just have to live my life to find out the answers.

In the meantime, back to the "fan" issue. Do you ever wonder who comes up with the things of which you can become a fan? Can anyone do this? Because if you could, I'll tell you what I would become a fan of today:

Restaurants having an ethical obligation to tell you when their salad leaves are crappy before you order your salad.

Now I know sometimes leaves are fresh, and sometimes they're not. They're not made from plastic, so of course they'll start to go bad at some point. The point is, you're on one side of the glass, I'm on the other. Do me the courtesy and let me know. It's kind of like when you ask the waiter, honestly, how's your black bean soup? And he tells you, it's too watery. Doesn't mean you won't come back. Actually, for me, it makes me glad to know that I can trust you'll be honest with me, so when you tell me the quesadilla with guac is amazing, I can start to get excited.

In any event, why not do the same courtesy with the salad? I don't really feel like I should have to ask. I kind of think the person at the counter should just lean over and quietly say, the leaves aren't so fresh today, you sure you still want the salad? Do I think they should make more of an effort to get fresher leaves? Absolutely. Do I think they'll do that any time soon? No. Sometimes, shit just falls through the cracks. So in the meantime, I'd appreciate knowing what I'm buying. Especially if you can see that I'm contemplating my various half soup/ salad/ sandwich combo options.

Becuase here's the bottom line for me. Why do you get a salad? For me, it's because it's the healthier choice. Everyone is in some way making an effort to be healthier. Maybe you go to the gym, or you don't eat PHOs or you go to therapy. Whatever, good for you. Be healthy. I order salad when there's a good one to be had. That's my healthy choice. And you know what happens when you get back to your desk and the leaves are crappy? Well, I'll tell you what doesn't happen. You don't eat the salad. At least I don't. I'll pick through it for a bit, looking for the gems, but then I'm done. Goodbye salad. I will eat the fruit, nuts and other things in my salad, but the "meat and potatoes" (if you will) of the salad is useless and in the trash it goes. And then do you know what happens? Well I'm not completely satisfied with a handful of craisins, almonds and mandarin oranges. And I've already spent my time/ money getting lunch. So now the groveling begins. Well, I've got a half a bag of chips in my drawer and I could get some oreos out of the vending machine. I could also have a few jolly ranchers for the sugar and a cup of tea. Nice, well rounded meal.

And all thanks to my efforts to be healthy. So if I had to pick, today I would become a fan of "Restaurants having an ethical obligation to tell you when their salad leaves are crappy before you order your salad."

I guess I do have things to write about on this blog after all. . . .

Monday, February 1, 2010

the truth is

There are things I want to blog about every day. The more significant truth is that most of these are not things that can be written publicly with my name attached to them.

Within then last week I started thinking that if I really want to have an interesting outlet, it will, unfortunately, have to be anonymous. As such, I am not sure exactly how to proceed from here. Do I keep this blog and then just create another one? If I keep this one, what do I blog about here? Does anyone care one way or another?

I have the urge to write when something speaks to me in a personal manner. This could be in a good way or not. Either way, I prefer to write from the soul. People have often told me that I am a strong writer. I believe I am a strong, and interesting writer. But I also believe that largely, this is only true when I'm sharing something about which I am passionate.

So what is there, that sparks in me enough passion to write, yet doesn't open me up to some sort of crazy vulnerability by posting it on a public blog? I just don't know. I will probably spend the next week or so thinking about how to proceed.

In the meantime, I will share some thoughts.

What do you think most people envision when they use the phrase, "the good old days?"
For me, it represents a simpler time. And while cars make it simpler to visit friends and relatives, and the internet makes it simpler to find the answers to some questions (ie. how long should you let a bag of white tea steep?) there are some things that feel like maybe they would be better if they were simpler.

I'm not personally sold on the idea of some idealistic past that I know damn well never existed. I have no desire to regress to a time where women and other marginalized groups were even more so than they are today.

But there are times, like right now, when I wonder, would it be better to just get rid of the crap. In Michael Pollan's Food Rules he writes something to the effect of, If your grandparents wouldn't recognize it as food, it's not. Don't eat it. I read that in an airport mall in Baltimore. It stuck with me. In a number of ways.

Skittles? Really? What are they? (Don't get me wrong, I love them, and now that I've found out they changed their recipes so that they no longer include gelatin, I'm ecstatic that I can actually eat them!). But, they are not food. We should not be eating food that is hot pink. It's not healthy and it's not sustainable for our bodies.

Likewise, I think there needs to be some serious consideration given to the other aspects of our lives. How many of our conveniences are actually making life more complicated? I frequently walk this line. I have yet to purchase a flat screen tv. I just added texting to my phone. Speaking of phones, mine is about 4 years old. I resist because I think, we don't need these things.

But then, I don't need a new pair of boots either, but show me a pair on sale and I'll buy them. I'm not committed to one side of the road or the other. I just wonder, when is bigger, better, faster, more going to tip the scales to the point of smaller, worse, slower, less.

At what point do we embody the phrase: Live simply, that others may simply live, without being naive and close minded to the positive changes that modern life may afford us. And at what point do we stop worrying about it, and just let it happen?

Tuesday, January 19, 2010

Going batty. . .

I work in a School of Public Health. I don’t have a health background, I have an education background. I write curriculum for the School of Public Health. I work with a panel of nurses to ensure that the curriculum I am writing is clinically accurate. It’s a challenge, but a good one.

This morning I walk into the school in which my office is located and see a sticker on the door. It is a picture of a bat and it says, “If you see me, don’t touch me! I could have rabies. Tell an adult immediately.” Hmm, I thought to myself.

I wonder how frequently people see bats around this campus? We’re not in the middle of a metropolis, but we’re also not really in the middle of the woods either. I feel like there have to be a fairly significant amount of bats to warrant a warning. I haven’t seen any, but I’m new around here, so I guess it’s a problem.

Then I wonder, how many children are walking around on the college campus without an adult? Probably not many, but I suppose it makes sense that we want to make sure that that minor group of children is protected. So we will protect them with these stickers.

And then I wonder about the adults. I’m an adult. So I guess if some kid sees a bat, he will make sure not to touch it, and then he will tell me. Do you know what I would do if a kid told me he saw a bat? I would say, did you touch it? (No). Did it bite you? (No). That’s good, because sometimes they can have rabies. Which I no longer need to tell the kid, because he has already read the sticker, which is why he told me in the first place. So then he doesn’t really need to tell me, because he already knows as much as I know.

I ponder these things as I walk up the stairs to my office. I’m chuckling to myself, thinking, really, what the hell would I do if some kid told me he saw a bat. My first response would probably be, oh, cool. By the time I sit down in my chair I realize, I am probably a fairly irresponsible adult. Cleary the sticker is instructing the kid to tell me because I am going to do something. Should I know what to do? Would you know what to do?

So I googled it. You can google anything. There’s lots of info on what to do if you find a bat in your home, but do you know what they say to do if you see a bat outside? Don’t touch it. If you’ve touched it, or if it’s touched a pet, then it’s a different story. There’s a chance it could be rabid and you could have rabies, in which case you would need medical treatment.

So after all of that, I think they should draft a new sticker. It should say, “If you see me, don’t touch me! I could have rabies. If you’ve already touched me, have an adult contact a doctor immediately.” This seems more logical, so that some poor rabies-ridden kid doesn’t end up sitting, sharing “cool animal” stories with an uninformed adult the likes of me.

Tuesday, January 5, 2010

New Year, new . . . debacles?

So the bottom line is, I love the word debacle. I will use it whenever I can, even when the matter at hand is more of a situation, conundrum, crisis, or even just a non-event. If I can work in the word debacle, believe me, I will.

So just a few updates. I actually don't even think anyone is reading my blog, so at this point I'm talking to myself, which is a bit of a debacle in and of itself, no?

The New Year has brought some frustrations and I'm still waiting for all the promises that a New Year is supposed to bring.

Starting with Rogue. A little over a month ago, this adorable kitty cat showed up, living under Kelsey's and my front porch. She's perfect. Precious. Soft. Sweet. You get the idea. We take her to the vet, get her shots, get a clean bill of health and check for a microchip. We're good to go. We fall in love with her. We're not allowed to have pets in the house, but at some point it just got too cold and we had to bring her in. Considering we were going on vacation soon and buying a house shortly thereafter, it didn't seem like that much of a crisis.

Until our landlord saw the cat and completely freaked out. I knew at some point the kitty would have to go into foster care, I just wasn't ready for it. Yesterday we took our little Roguer to live with his temporary mommy. I cried. Twice. We can see her as often as we like, I know the woman she's staying with and she's fantastic, I am just so sad. I don't want her to think we're giving her away or that we don't love her etc. It's kind of ridiculous to be as sad as I am. I know I'll be okay without her for a bit, I'm really just concerned that she'll think we don't love her anymore, and we so do.

Hives. I've got 'em. Don't know why. I was out painting till about 10pm on Saturday night. Came home and my right forearm started itching. Followed my the rest of my arm. Followed by my other arm. Followed by my belly. Followed by my shins. You get the idea. And no, I haven't changed detergents, deodorants, lotions, soaps, perfumes or anything else. They come and go. Right now they're coming. It's incredible. They're not very visible, so I guess I shouldn't call them hives as I don't know for sure, but I sort of assume. they are fine pink or white raised itchy areas that come and go and drive me crazy! But, what I read online (and god knows if you read it online, it must be true) is that hives can be caused by stress. And nothing causes stress more than debacles.

The house. Last Monday the bank called me and told me that my mortgage had been approved. Sweet. Pick a closing date and get it done! Saturday I actually got the commitment letter. Not that sweet. The loan will only be approved contingent upon my getting the porch fixed. I'm not even getting into it here, but here's the bottom line. The porch needs to be fixed. It's in bad shape, but it's not essential to the house, it's an add-on and therefore not affecting the house. The homeowners have made it clear that they are selling the house as is (ie. not fixing the porch). I currently have no idea what the f I'm going to do.

On a better note; Florida. I leave for Florida on Thursday night. This, essentially, is a good thing. Kels and I go at the same time every year to do a 12 mile hike and spend some time with my parents. It will be fabulous. I am just terrified of flying and have not gotten into my doctor to get any happy flying drugs. And the weather is not looking good. :( But I can't wait to see my parents, do some kayakking and enjoy weather that doesn't induce frostbite.

On another positive note, my friend Wendy makes incredible jewelry. Almost all of the jewelry that I wear is Eclectic Wendy Designs. I have a few pieces from another friend Pam Rainer, and a few pieces that I have made, but for the most part, my ears, wrists, fingers and neck are largely adorned by EWD. Well right now Wendy is running a special that you can enter for a chance to win a personalized piece of jewelry. This is fabulous for a few reasons. One; who doesn't love jewelry? Two; Wendy makes really nice stuff. Three; personalized jewelry is the sort of thing you wish your significant other would get for you, but for some reason they just never do. So it's a win-win. If you would like to see some of this amazing jewelry, or enter in to win a free piece, check out her blog at: . She's also on FB and etsy. Seriously, I love her work and give her jewelry to people whenever I can.

Finally, one last thought. Bathrooms. My new job has three stalls in the bathroom. It seems like every time I go in there, someone is in the middle stall. Why would you do this? At least if you're on the end and someone else comes in, they can choose the other end, and at least for the time being, the two of you have a modicum of privacy. If you're in the middle, neither one of you has that option. Why do people do this? Are you one of those people? Can you explain this to me?

I think it's a bit of a debacle. . .