After a tremendously challenging day at work I came home and passed out for a couple of hours. The only reason I made myself get out of bed at 9:30 pm was because I knew my sweet husband had made me comfort food (turkey pot pie!) to cheer me.
But in my sleep . . . How I wish I could make this come to life on the page! I was dreaming about an English girl joining an early 20th century Portuguese traveling ballet/circus. It was so lush with detail and dialogue. Why can't I write stories like that when I'm awake?
Of course, dreams being what they are, it's entirely possible that it would all be gibberish if I could remember the words. But still . . .
Thursday, June 9, 2011
Sunday, May 29, 2011
Does this breakfast food make me look fat?
At the store where I do the bulk of my grocery shopping, the breakfast cereal is on the same aisle as the cookies. I find that to be both ominous and prophetic.
I was thinking that Honey Smacks (which, incidentally, were called Sugar Smacks when I was a kid) might not be a terrible option as a breakfast food. It's primarily puffed wheat (so perhaps it has a little fiber?) and probably doesn't have much more sugar in it than cereals masquerading as healthy (granola and the like.) I believe I was wrong. The nutritional label tells me that there is less than 1 gram of fiber per serving. And the ingredients, while completely recognizable, were atrocious:
Sugar, wheat, corn syrup, honey, oil, salt, coloring and only one preservative.
On one hand, it's refreshing to see a processed food with so few ingredients listed! On the other hand, the bulk of those ingredients is sweetener. So . . . .
I think I'd be just about as well off to eat Oreos for breakfast.
I was thinking that Honey Smacks (which, incidentally, were called Sugar Smacks when I was a kid) might not be a terrible option as a breakfast food. It's primarily puffed wheat (so perhaps it has a little fiber?) and probably doesn't have much more sugar in it than cereals masquerading as healthy (granola and the like.) I believe I was wrong. The nutritional label tells me that there is less than 1 gram of fiber per serving. And the ingredients, while completely recognizable, were atrocious:
Sugar, wheat, corn syrup, honey, oil, salt, coloring and only one preservative.
On one hand, it's refreshing to see a processed food with so few ingredients listed! On the other hand, the bulk of those ingredients is sweetener. So . . . .
I think I'd be just about as well off to eat Oreos for breakfast.
Gwennie
I just finished watching Sliding Doors with Gwenyth Paltrow and John Hannah. I adore John Hannah. Not so much on the Gwenyth though. (Is it me or does her "English accent" in Sliding Doors slip and drift between cockney and other regional inflections?)
Interestingly, I really love some of Gwenyth's movies, I think it's just her personality that I don't care for. And I'm not alone in this by a long shot.
Nature abhors a vacuum, so the expression goes. And now that Oprah has hung up her couch and headed for Boca Raton, I'm wondering what will fill that void in our collective lives. I imagine there are lots and lots of folks scrabbling to take her place. My great concern is that Ms. Paltrow will translate GOOP from blog to daytime talk show. Ugh.
Though I never watched Oprah, I could easily tolerate the "water cooler" talk about the show. I don't think I could stomach the same about Gwenyth. Which is odd because the things I don't like about Oprah are exactly the same things I don't like about Gwenyth.
That Oprah is quite self-important is an understatement (I have a whole theory about how people who believe themselves to be demigods pronounce their vowels--and Oprah is the original data that caused me to form my hypothesis.) And I truly believe she means well with the charitable causes, her school building, even her lavish giveaways.
Self-important? Gwenyth has that in spades too. To her credit, I believe Gwenyth also means well with her tone of speaking slowly and loudly (so to speak) so we commoners can understand the virtues she extols. But it's the style with which she conveys her near infinite wisdom that bugs me. It seems less genuine and down to Earth than Oprah. Maybe it's because Oprah came from a family of sharecroppers and really knows what it is to be a regular American. Paltrow was born Hollywood royalty. I guess her advice for wonderful, purposeful, healthy living doesn't ring true to me.
Or maybe I've got it all wrong. Maybe it will be Charlie Sheen who steps in to the afternoon arena to enlighten and entertain us for the next 20 years.
Or maybe America will quit watching TV.
Interestingly, I really love some of Gwenyth's movies, I think it's just her personality that I don't care for. And I'm not alone in this by a long shot.
Nature abhors a vacuum, so the expression goes. And now that Oprah has hung up her couch and headed for Boca Raton, I'm wondering what will fill that void in our collective lives. I imagine there are lots and lots of folks scrabbling to take her place. My great concern is that Ms. Paltrow will translate GOOP from blog to daytime talk show. Ugh.
Though I never watched Oprah, I could easily tolerate the "water cooler" talk about the show. I don't think I could stomach the same about Gwenyth. Which is odd because the things I don't like about Oprah are exactly the same things I don't like about Gwenyth.
That Oprah is quite self-important is an understatement (I have a whole theory about how people who believe themselves to be demigods pronounce their vowels--and Oprah is the original data that caused me to form my hypothesis.) And I truly believe she means well with the charitable causes, her school building, even her lavish giveaways.
Self-important? Gwenyth has that in spades too. To her credit, I believe Gwenyth also means well with her tone of speaking slowly and loudly (so to speak) so we commoners can understand the virtues she extols. But it's the style with which she conveys her near infinite wisdom that bugs me. It seems less genuine and down to Earth than Oprah. Maybe it's because Oprah came from a family of sharecroppers and really knows what it is to be a regular American. Paltrow was born Hollywood royalty. I guess her advice for wonderful, purposeful, healthy living doesn't ring true to me.
Or maybe I've got it all wrong. Maybe it will be Charlie Sheen who steps in to the afternoon arena to enlighten and entertain us for the next 20 years.
Or maybe America will quit watching TV.
Thursday, May 19, 2011
Timing is everything
I've had to pee for over an hour but I can't get up to do it because then someone else in the house will come sit at the computer and use it for something important like YouTube or craigslist and I'll lose my place on the gossip website I'm reading and then how will I ever know whether the prostitution whorah goes back to pole dancing????
My life is way too complicated.
My life is way too complicated.
D'oh! Stupid tortoise!
I have always been an all or nothing kind of person. Ever since I was very, very little.
And I've learned exactly nothing in my 43 years' experience on this planet. (Shut up, daughter, as of this writing I am still 43--in my very early forties!)
At age 8 I lived in fear every single school day that, in my absence from home, my mom would clean out my dresser drawers and discover the pile of junk and papers and drawings and garbage stashed in my top drawer. My stomach trembled at the thought of how much trouble I'd be in for my hoarding tendencies when I got home from school.
Sure, there was a solution. I could have CLEANED THE DRAWER OUT MYSELF. But I didn't. Know why? Because I had a master plan in my head in which I cleaned my whole bedroom from top to bottom--every square inch fresh and sparkly--including the dreaded top dresser drawer--and voila! Problem solved! Except that I never quite got around to doing it because I was far too busy playing outside with the neighbor kids and watching TV and (according to my cousin who called me out for it at my grandmother's memorial service) being bossy and controlling. So. Problem not quite so solved . . .
And that story is pretty much all you need to know to understand who I am. But I'll still tell you a couple more ; )
As a teen I knew I needed to buckle down and get serious about my grades. But I couldn't just dive in and tackle a little bit every day--oh no, not me! First (as the blueprints inside my head went) I had to clean my whole bedroom from top to bottom--every inch fresh and sparkly--and only then could I devote myself to the proper sitting-at-my-desk study of homework each night.
But my plans didn't begin and end with a clean room and daily schoolwork. Nope. Because that's too simple a strategy for me. At that time I wanted to be a child phychologist so I borrowed about 10 hefty volumes from the library (Freud, Jung--you know, just some light reading) and packed them around with me for weeks without ever cracking a single one--the plan being that I'd immerse myself in them once my room was a tidy haven for academic pursuits, but, um **ahem** . . .
Also, I "was going to" (my famous impotent phrase) buy a subscription to Phychology Today and dutifully read it every evening, taking notes of vocabulary words and new concepts on a yellow legal pad (I babysat for a lawyer at the time, she left a large impression on me.) And there would be a houseplant (which I would remember to water) next to me on the desk and all my books would be properly organized on the bookshelf to my left. Ahhhhh, it was all to be so *perfect*!
None of that ever got done. And to this day I still have bad dreams about not having completed enough assignments for one of my classes and having to face the realization that I will fail the class and have to retake it . . .
You would think I'd learn from these experiences. But you'd be wrong in your thinking.
Also as a teen I was going to completely swear off sweets (another nugget of information gleaned from my lawyer boss) and exercise all the time and be svelte and skinny. Never mind that I was a completely firm, toned, petite, strong, healthy gymnast who weighed at the least 111 lbs and at the very very very most 117 lbs. Maybe 118 if I let my breath out. But my wonderful get-skinny plan couldn't take effect until I had saved the $13.95 to purchase this pile of bunk:
Because if I was going to do anything I was going to do it 1000%. I wasn't going to eat right and exercise unless I had the foil sauna suit to ensure my loss of at least 6 lbs immediately!
But the other thing about me is that I'm terribly lazy. I easily could have earned the $13.95 through babysitting. And I did earn that many times over. However, I earned it 7 or 8 bucks at a time but was too lazy to save it, clip out the ad from the back of TV guide, fill out the form, send in my money and buy the stupid suit. Instead, I think I fostered my relationship with the love of my life (junk food) 7 or 8 bucks at a time. And never quite got around to eating right. Or exercising. Or in any way making an effort to encourage a healthy lifestyle for the upcoming days when I wouldn't be forced to work out regularly with the gymnastics team and I might actually need a road map for sustaining a healthy weight and exercise regime . . .
The rest of my life story reads a bit like "lather, rinse, repeat." The details and situations might be slightly changed, but the basic plot is exactly the same. At some point you might expect that I noticed that my "all or nothing" ways were getting me nowhere (particularly in the health and weight department) and that I would have modified my modus operandi to be more functional and, dare I say it, more sane. Again, you'd be wrong.
Were this December 31st I think I'd make some sort of promise to myself to learn--and live--slow and steady wins the race. But it isn't December 31st. It's May 19th. It's kind of like being a Wednesday and who starts a new diet on a Wednesday? Nope, diets start on Mondays. So a livable, sustainable attitude and practice about my health is going to have to wait until next December 31st.
Even then, I will only be able to start my new laid back, approachable, even-keel way of life after cleaning my whole house from top to bottom--every inch fresh and sparkly . . .
And I've learned exactly nothing in my 43 years' experience on this planet. (Shut up, daughter, as of this writing I am still 43--in my very early forties!)
At age 8 I lived in fear every single school day that, in my absence from home, my mom would clean out my dresser drawers and discover the pile of junk and papers and drawings and garbage stashed in my top drawer. My stomach trembled at the thought of how much trouble I'd be in for my hoarding tendencies when I got home from school.
Sure, there was a solution. I could have CLEANED THE DRAWER OUT MYSELF. But I didn't. Know why? Because I had a master plan in my head in which I cleaned my whole bedroom from top to bottom--every square inch fresh and sparkly--including the dreaded top dresser drawer--and voila! Problem solved! Except that I never quite got around to doing it because I was far too busy playing outside with the neighbor kids and watching TV and (according to my cousin who called me out for it at my grandmother's memorial service) being bossy and controlling. So. Problem not quite so solved . . .
And that story is pretty much all you need to know to understand who I am. But I'll still tell you a couple more ; )
As a teen I knew I needed to buckle down and get serious about my grades. But I couldn't just dive in and tackle a little bit every day--oh no, not me! First (as the blueprints inside my head went) I had to clean my whole bedroom from top to bottom--every inch fresh and sparkly--and only then could I devote myself to the proper sitting-at-my-desk study of homework each night.
But my plans didn't begin and end with a clean room and daily schoolwork. Nope. Because that's too simple a strategy for me. At that time I wanted to be a child phychologist so I borrowed about 10 hefty volumes from the library (Freud, Jung--you know, just some light reading) and packed them around with me for weeks without ever cracking a single one--the plan being that I'd immerse myself in them once my room was a tidy haven for academic pursuits, but, um **ahem** . . .
Also, I "was going to" (my famous impotent phrase) buy a subscription to Phychology Today and dutifully read it every evening, taking notes of vocabulary words and new concepts on a yellow legal pad (I babysat for a lawyer at the time, she left a large impression on me.) And there would be a houseplant (which I would remember to water) next to me on the desk and all my books would be properly organized on the bookshelf to my left. Ahhhhh, it was all to be so *perfect*!
None of that ever got done. And to this day I still have bad dreams about not having completed enough assignments for one of my classes and having to face the realization that I will fail the class and have to retake it . . .
You would think I'd learn from these experiences. But you'd be wrong in your thinking.
Also as a teen I was going to completely swear off sweets (another nugget of information gleaned from my lawyer boss) and exercise all the time and be svelte and skinny. Never mind that I was a completely firm, toned, petite, strong, healthy gymnast who weighed at the least 111 lbs and at the very very very most 117 lbs. Maybe 118 if I let my breath out. But my wonderful get-skinny plan couldn't take effect until I had saved the $13.95 to purchase this pile of bunk:
Because if I was going to do anything I was going to do it 1000%. I wasn't going to eat right and exercise unless I had the foil sauna suit to ensure my loss of at least 6 lbs immediately!
But the other thing about me is that I'm terribly lazy. I easily could have earned the $13.95 through babysitting. And I did earn that many times over. However, I earned it 7 or 8 bucks at a time but was too lazy to save it, clip out the ad from the back of TV guide, fill out the form, send in my money and buy the stupid suit. Instead, I think I fostered my relationship with the love of my life (junk food) 7 or 8 bucks at a time. And never quite got around to eating right. Or exercising. Or in any way making an effort to encourage a healthy lifestyle for the upcoming days when I wouldn't be forced to work out regularly with the gymnastics team and I might actually need a road map for sustaining a healthy weight and exercise regime . . .
The rest of my life story reads a bit like "lather, rinse, repeat." The details and situations might be slightly changed, but the basic plot is exactly the same. At some point you might expect that I noticed that my "all or nothing" ways were getting me nowhere (particularly in the health and weight department) and that I would have modified my modus operandi to be more functional and, dare I say it, more sane. Again, you'd be wrong.
Were this December 31st I think I'd make some sort of promise to myself to learn--and live--slow and steady wins the race. But it isn't December 31st. It's May 19th. It's kind of like being a Wednesday and who starts a new diet on a Wednesday? Nope, diets start on Mondays. So a livable, sustainable attitude and practice about my health is going to have to wait until next December 31st.
Even then, I will only be able to start my new laid back, approachable, even-keel way of life after cleaning my whole house from top to bottom--every inch fresh and sparkly . . .
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
All In The Family
Now, I realize my sweet little granddaughter Lily probably has many traits from her father, but I didn't know him when he was a little boy so all I see in her is me. Lots and lots of me.
The other day at work a bunch of us were talking about children and how their natural abilities and gifts become apparent at a very early age. One coworker's granddaughter has been a dancer and singer since she was a toddler. A different coworker's son will, no doubt, follow in his father's footsteps and be a paramedic.
Someone asked me, "Can you tell yet? What are Lily's gifts?"
"Being right." I answered. "And knowing everything. Yep, she's my Mini Me."
Sorry, Lily's mommy. And good luck! : )
The other day at work a bunch of us were talking about children and how their natural abilities and gifts become apparent at a very early age. One coworker's granddaughter has been a dancer and singer since she was a toddler. A different coworker's son will, no doubt, follow in his father's footsteps and be a paramedic.
Someone asked me, "Can you tell yet? What are Lily's gifts?"
"Being right." I answered. "And knowing everything. Yep, she's my Mini Me."
Sorry, Lily's mommy. And good luck! : )
Sunday, May 15, 2011
Living the dream!
Do you ever hear your alarm clock going off but you're still asleep so the noise is incorporated into your dream? Like in your dream you think it's the phone but you can't find it to answer it? That happened to me the other day.
Early in the morning (and by "early" I of course mean "at the last possible second I can get up without being late to work") my alarm was buzzing away but in my sleep I was dreaming that I was already up and getting dressed. When I pulled on my jeans I heard the blaring siren. It was my jeans. To be precise, the noise was my bluejeans-early-warning-alarm-system telling me that my pants were too tight and I was on the verge of blowing out a seam with my too-large arse.
Even in my sleep I can't escape my neuroses!
Early in the morning (and by "early" I of course mean "at the last possible second I can get up without being late to work") my alarm was buzzing away but in my sleep I was dreaming that I was already up and getting dressed. When I pulled on my jeans I heard the blaring siren. It was my jeans. To be precise, the noise was my bluejeans-early-warning-alarm-system telling me that my pants were too tight and I was on the verge of blowing out a seam with my too-large arse.
Even in my sleep I can't escape my neuroses!
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