Whoop De Freakin' Do

[copied from dland]

I have never quite gotten the whole New Year's Eve thing. As a kid, I was dying to be able to stay up late enough "to see the ball drop," and when I was a teenager and babysitting on NYE, I would watch it on TV, sitting alone in a quite house (the kids were asleep) and see all the hoopla and wonder what the big deal was. Okay, it's a minute later than it was a minute ago. I'm over it.

So I ended up taking all the ornaments off the tree last night, and then when I got up this morning, the Hubs had taken down the lights and the tree was already put away in the basement. All gone, Christmas!

I went to the gym this morning, where I ran into my original trainer, so I had to fill her in on my story, and then I started my routine, which went very well. It only takes about a half hour, since at this point I'm only doing 15 reps on each machine. (Hey, get me! I know what a rep is!) I think if I can do this two or three times a week, in a week or two I won't feel any soreness or achiness afterwards, and it's not that bad now, I'm just aware of it. I think in general that I'll feel better if I keep to it, and that's the whole point. I'm not even thinking about weight loss at this point. If I can walk up a flight of stairs without huffing and puffing, I'll be happy as a clam.

(heh. Happy as a clam.)

The girls have gone out to a movie -- the Museum movie, I think -- and are coming back home for a gala New Year's Eve filled with sushi and Godfather movies. Neither of them has ever seen even one of the movies, which is kind of amazing since they are both movie fanatics, as we are, and the first two Godfathers are probably the Hubs' top two movies of all time, or are at least in his top five. It is kind of amazing that the first two movies are so incredibly good and the third one is so abominable. I only hope that they choose to have this marathon up in K's bedroom, since I'm not so keen on sitting in my desk chair for hours watching the antics of the various Corleones while they watch in the family room, which is where I basically live, not to mention where I fall asleep every night. We'll see how it plays out. I'm watching the Law & Order: SVU marathon today and I've got a Mac magazine to read. My big plans.

So, I got me one more day off. Although I've enjoyed this week very much, I find I don't have the same dread about going back that I've had in the last couple of years. All the time that the library was closed, I really never thought that having a new library would make a difference to me; I would still hate every minute there and be counting down to retirement. I don't feel that way so much. The worst thing at this point is not having the Colleague there in the library with us, but that's a done deal and not likely to change. As much as I miss her every day, that's ...

Took a break there for 45 minutes because while I was writing about the Colleague SHE CALLED FINALLY and her granddaughter's surgery was very, very successful and all is well. Tremendous relief for all concerned. Amazing what miracles they can perform with surgery these days.

Okay, I'm going to post now so I can call the Sibs and fill her in on the phone call. Happy New Year, all!


WATCHING SVU :: ENTRY #1336

Coasting

[copied from dland]

Is it Saturday? Sunday? New Year's Day? It's all the same to me. Although I picked up the dry cleaning today and went to the mall -- yet again -- so I guess that makes it Saturday. Although the mall will be open on Monday and I have to go back for something else, so it's all the same to me.

Other than the returns at Macy's and talking to an Apple genius about K's iPod, my only accomplishment of the day was taking down the little Christmas tree, the one I keep in the family room with miniature glass ornaments on it. I also have a bunch of miniature Hallmarks, as well as some Hallmarks that move and light up, but I guess they're in the basement somewhere; I didn't look for them last year or this. That gives me two more days off to get the big tree taken down. I may try to get to the gym tomorrow morning (they're only open until noon tomorrow) and then I'd have the afternoon to get it done. Or Monday. Oh wait, I have mall business on Monday. Tomorrow, then.

The thing that is really bothering me is something I shouldn't talk about because it's another person's thing, but briefly, and if you've read this for awhile you may get more, but a dear friend's little granddaughter was supposed to have spinal surgery on Wednesday and I haven't heard anything and it's worrying me. The baby and her parents were flying to a hospital in the midwest to have this done, and the friend has gone down to where they live in the south to stay with their other child. I don't have her cell number or the number there; she had said she would call or email me when it was over. I'm concerned, but they are also very private people, so I'm hesitating to call the friend's daughter, who lives here in town, but I think if I haven't heard by Monday, I'll call. I know that on Tuesday, people in school will ask me about it, the few who know, and will call the daughter, and I'm thinking that the call might be better coming from me. But I'll give my friend another day or two; hopefully, she's just overwhelmed with the stress of the situation in general, not to mention looking after her grandson, who was expected to start walking this week, and she hasn't been able to sit down and write or call. Nothing worse than that. Great success and no complications were the expectations of the surgery, so she's just busy, right? Okay, I got that off my chest.

Otherwise, I've had Law and Order: Criminal Intent on all day since there's a marathon. It's not my favorite L&O and I've probably never seen a whole episode of it before. I saw one before where there was an Orthodox Jewish family and someone ordered the murder of the wife, who was a convert, but I fell asleep before the end so now I don't know who did it. Anyone? Lindsay? It's not SVU, but I thought I'd take a shot. (There's an SVU marathon on tomorrow, btw, and the last episode I've never seen is finally going to be on. Another series at 100%. Yes, folks, this is the excitement that is me.)


WATCHING L/O: CT :: ENTRY #1335

The Continuing Saga of Me

[copied from dland]

I toddled off to the gym this morning for a 9:15 appointment with the trainer. Early, as usual, so I stopped into the CVS next door to pick up a couple of things, and ran into a colleague who retired last year and who, of course, looked fabulous. I don't know if I've mentioned this guy before, but when he retired he decided to pursue his lifelong dream and he started pounding the pavement, as they say, auditioning in New York for whatever he could find, and now, he told me, he does a lot of Law and Order episodes. He has no lines, you understand, has never had one and doesn't expect ever to get one, but they use him as a background extra regularly. Cool, eh?

So there I was at the gym, and the trainer set up a whole routine for me on the weight machines, and one thing with lifting dumbbells, and a couple of floor exercises. She also showed me two of the aerobic machines that I can do at my own pace to warm up and cool down. My plan is to go do this twice a week, plus yoga on Saturday mornings; she also pointed out a Pilates class -- I really have no idea what Pilates is -- that she thinks I can do, and that's on Monday evenings, at 6:00, I believe. Which turns out to be a good time for me, as K will be in an evening class on Mondays, so I won't have to provide any kind of dinner for her that night. (I assume she'll eat on campus, since she'll be there on Mondays from 10 am until 8 pm.)

And then I had a nice massage. Not the best ever, but far from the worst ever, so that was okay. I did feel very good afterwards, so I guess it was okay, and the masseuse was very nice.

The Sibs and I went out for lunch and an intense make-up discussion, since she's converted me to this make-up she's been using, and really, we were like teenagers comparing what we use, and how to put it on, and so forth. We did everything but giggle; it was fun. Turns out she's gotten most of her stuff on QVC, so I went to their website when I got home and ordered another item. Okay, two, but they were good deals, really. What can I say. I have mental problems.

My plan for tomorrow is to hit the mall when it opens and return a couple of things to Macy's. (The MIL gives gift receipts with everything now, fortunately.) I was also going to return something to Penny's, a sweatshirt she got for the Hubs, but I just looked at it and I like it, so I'm keeping it for me. He'd already told me to return and keep the money, or donate the shirt, or whatever, he doesn't care, so I might as well get some use out of it, a nice, cuddly, gray Nike sweatshirt. One less errand for me tomorrow.

I turns out I have a cold after all, which is pretty close on the tail of the last one, less than a month ago, but so far it's not that bad. I'm not coughing or headachy or feverish, I'm just stuffed up and sneezing a lot. It wakes me up a lot at night, too, but what else is new; something would be waking me up if not a cold.

Okay, off to post and juggle the cars in the driveway before the Hubs gets home.


WATCHING STILL STANDING :: ENTRY #1334

Thursday Off

[copied from dland]

These are the socks that R made me for Christmas:

and this is the belt:

I'm weighing in on the Gerald Ford thing. Although I liked him very much at the time (personally, not politically), I'm afraid that what I remember about him are things that are not so great. For one, I remember watching him debate Jimmy Carter and saying something about Eastern Europe not being under Soviet domination and everybody's jaw just dropping -- including Carter's -- and knowing that he had just lost himself an election. On another note, my nephew, now 32 and pictured here in a recent post at his most adorable, was quite the verbal little kid. In 1975 -- roughly when the picture was taken -- we could get him to say, with great excitement, at the beginning of any baseball game: "Bicentennial fwag! Bicentennial fwag!" because, as you may or may not recall, the standard American flag was replaced with some bogus thing for a couple of years there in honor of the great Bicentennial of the nation. But his most amusing Stupid Kid Trick, which his father taught him in 1976, so he was about two, was this:

His father: "Jeff, what does Jimmy Carter do?"

Little Jeff: "Jimmy Carter make peanuts!"

His father: "Jeff, what does President Ford do?"

Jeff: "Pwesident Fawd fall down!"

On the other hand, I admired him and his family very much, and thought he should have been made our permanent ceremonial president, someone with no actual power but who makes all the public appearances. He seemed to have a great deal of integrity, a good quality in a president.

In other news, I'm enjoying these days off tremendously. Today I got my nails done -- more on that in a minute -- and then had a facial. Tomorrow I'm getting orientation on the weight machines at the gym and then the complimentary massage that comes with my membership. (Then an afternoon with the Sibs.) The funny thing about all this, the nails, the facial, the new make-up, is that I smell terrific.

Which leads me to my next problem, which is that I'm allergic like crazy this week, but I don't think it's to any of these specific things: the make-up, the other cosmetic smells. I'm reacting to every bit of dust in the atmosphere, and to other scents that I can't quite track down, but I've been sneezing like crazy. It doesn't seem to be a cold, but it's hard to tell sometimes. The SCM has been known to say things to me from time to time about how he was bothered by post-nasal drip and couldn't sleep the night before and has that ever happened to me? and I have to tell him each time that I've had permanent post-nasal drip since I was four; I was probably a teenager before I realized that every other human didn't have that feeling all the time like I did. But it's been bothering me more this week, I guess because of whatever it is that's irritating my allergies. Let's keep our fingers crossed that it really isn't all my fancy new make-up.

Oh, nails, I almost forgot. I may have asked this before, I don't know. Someone told me that getting your nails done regularly is "a New Jersey thing." Whatever the hell that means, but is it true? Are there no nails salons anywhere else in the country? (Not counting New York, as New Jersey goes, so goes New York City and the surrounding suburban counties.) We have maybe a half-dozen nail salons here in little Bizarro Town, all with names like Sexy Nails, and Sexy Nails II. (Yes, there's also a Sexy Nails III.) Or French Nails. Like that.

My last rant of the day is -- again -- my hearing aids. You know, I have these two devices clipped onto my ears that communicate with each other via RF (radio frequency) signals. This is the only way hearing aids are made now for my kind of hearing loss, but I'm increasingly aware that this is no longer a viable technology because there is just so much random RF signal traffic in the general world. It's increased exponentially in the last few years since I got these aids. At first, I wanted to complain about some new device in CVS that was causing the static, but now it's everywhere, randomly, in stores and in all kinds of places. It's time to replace the technology that powers my ears with something new -- bluetooth would be nice -- but it doesn't exist yet. I wish I knew where to complain to, maybe to the company that makes them. (Only one company does.) It's my understanding that there are so few people with my kind of hearing loss, at least people who have it and wear hearing aids, that the industry just isn't motivated to do much for us.

Anyway, I'm running out to CVS to pick something up (and to avoid folding laundry), so I know what to expect when I get there.

Damn, I smell good.


WATCHING DR. PHIL :: ENTRY #1333

Nothing Broken

[copied from dland]

I went to the gym this morning and took a class called Gentle Yoga and it was wonderful and I did not break a single bone, or my glasses, or anything else. I did have amusing conversations with a couple of people about just being back at the gym after having broken a bone in my knee, and when they asked where I broke it, I pointed at the second treadmill and said "Right over there," which was of course not what they meant, but who could pass up such an opportunity?

I also had to clean the oven today, which does not happen often here since the oven is rarely used for anything except K baking the occasional cake, but the Hubs made garlic bread on Christmas Eve and didn't put a cookie sheet under the foil holding the bread, and, well, you know the rest. I actually still should really run the self-cleaning cycle, but I had to clean it first or the house would have smelled like burning olive oil for the rest of time.

My last big adventure of the day was taking the hairy little beasts for their annual check-up, which somehow turned into an hour-long ordeal. The vet wanted to check the condition of BooBoo's kidneys before giving him a rabies shot, so that's bloodwork, and if it's okay -- I suspect it will be -- I've got to bring him back for the shot. He was suspicious because he's lost a half-pound, which is significant for a cat who only weighed 6 pounds last time, but by the end of the visit, let's just say the vet saw some tangible proof of the cat's odd eating habits, which may be the cause of his stomach distress/loss of appetite. (He eats plastic bags; I have no idea how he's lived to be nearly 16 years old. The cat, not the vet.)

I'm off for a bit more pampering tomorrow, and possibly starting to take the stuff off the Christmas tree. I guess if I'm home for a long enough stretch, I'll run that oven-cycle, too. Nothing on TV again tonight; I slept terribly last night and there was nothing on that I could find to amuse me all night long. I sure hope I sleep better than that tonight. Okay, enough.


WATCHING STILL STANDING :: ENTRY #1332

Where Does the Time Go?

[copied from dland]

Not any place constructive, I can tell you that. Oh, maybe a little.

I'm all mixed up on dates, which you wouldn't think I'd be, considering that yesterday was December 25, but since we had family Christmas on Saturday, I'm all turned around. I think I did post on Sunday, but not yesterday.

Yesterday was as quiet as a day gets. I never did get dressed (although yes, I did put on a bra; a whole day without one is not so much as comfortable as you might think) and other than that, I don't think I did anything at all. Were the girls both here? Uh ... I think so. They went to the movies Sunday afternoon, but I don't even remember what they were doing in the house yesterday, or what I did. I do remember that R slept until 10:30 while we were all waiting to open gifts, and just as we sat down to do that, the ILs called to wish us a Merry etc. and ask what we got, and so on, but we finally got to it. Here's the take:

K gave me a cuddly zippered top I had picked out at the Giant Jeans Conglomerate, as well as two very cuddly pairs of socks.

R gave me a pair of socks THAT SHE MADE (pictures tomorrow) and a matching belt THAT SHE MADE. (She knits.)

The Hubs gave me a couple of books (a new biography of Walt Disney and a book by Bob Newhart), the "new" Beatles album, Love, which is actually wonderful, and a Lenox statue thingy of Mickey and Minnie Mouse. Hey, it means he went to a mall. I'm impressed.

He seemed amused by his bobble-heads, and very much liked the newest Rumpole book that I gave him, as well as another trinket or two. The girls seemed to enjoy their hauls as well, although the backup battery I got K for her phone didn't have the right connector, and I took that back this morning. I'll get her a battery backup for her iPod instead, since she's got one day a week next semester where she has something like a four-hour break between classes, and her phone holds a charge better than an iPod does.

I actually braved the mall again today, twice in a holiday week, this time to get a little more info on that cool make-up I got last week. Okay, okay, I got another item or two, but I also got my make-up done in the store so the girl could show me how to use everything, so that was fine. Today's mall strategy was that I wasn't going to care where I parked, which made things less tense. Of course, I could have parked in my driveway and walked to the mall, considering how far it was, but since we're still having spring in December, it wasn't a big deal.

Then this afternoon, the girls and I headed down the Parkway again to go to a wake, which I think I mentioned the other day. It was a little odd to drive an hour and a quarter each way to spend fifteen minutes there, but it was the right thing to do. The colleague whose father had passed away said that only one other person from school had come, and although he wasn't expecting anyone, really, I did know that other guy was going -- he had told me the time and place of the wake -- and I knew it was the right thing for us to go, too. This guy has been an incredible teacher/mentor/friend to my children, and they wanted very much to pay their respects to him. He was touched that we came, and we were very glad that we went.

I just looked back at my last couple of entries, so, to follow up: I made the pumpkin pies. We did have cognac after dinner on Sunday, and may I say, yuck. Also red wine with dinner, probably the first red wine I've had in twenty years, but it was nice and dry, so I liked it. (I found the wine glasses and the huge wine goblets that were a wedding gift but which we had never ever used until the cognac.) We did have Chinese food last night.

So now you know where the time went, and so do I, I guess. I have some actual activities planned for tomorrow, so perhaps I will have something to write about. Keep your fingers crossed for no broken bones or torn anythings; I'm going to the gym in morning.


WATCHING no idea :: ENTRY #1331

Merry Rat Schism!

[copied from dland]

Boxx wanted to see pictures of my holiday sweaters.

Blue:

Green:

I wore the blue one, because I was also wearing jeans (of course) and I wore the blue crocs, too. Should we all be more dressed up? I have no idea. Since it's usually just the ten of us at the ILs' house, jeans are pretty standard. (Except for the high school years, when the niece, according to her mother, did not own a pair of jeans. She also apparently owned only capri-length pants, which is what she wore year round. But no jeans.)

Later. Next day, actually. I mean, today.

So we headed down the Parkway around two, and got to the ILs around 3:30, no traffic whatsoever. The SIL and her brood were already there, which is maybe the second time they have arrived before us in 30 years. The MIL served the antipasto, everyone dug in, and gifts were opened.

The gifts were all fun, some particularly good, but the MIL apologized and said she was having an off year. Which she was, because just when she was ready to get her shopping started, all this mess with the FIL's back started up and she was making daily trips to the emergency room rather than the malls. Anyway, she had gotten me a Chico's gift card before all the hoohah started, and everybody else got a check. She got one DVD for each kid, then gave them money, and all their stocking stuff. The SIL gave R, along with money, a copy of The Joy of Cooking, which the kid did not put down all evening.

(A note on the FIL's health, since I've mentioned it before. His last injection for pain worked, and it's not a steroid injection, which means he can just go back for one every six to eight weeks for the rest of his life and be pain-free. Score for him. His mobility is still very limited though, and he's finally agreed that he needs one of those scooter things you see advertised on TV all the time, so he's got the prescription and he's getting one of those. The only sad thing I noticed was that he seems so much shorter, what with the back trouble and the difficulty in standing up straight; he seemed no more than 5'8" maybe, and he's always been 6'2". But no pain is the most important thing.)

There was way too much time between gifts and going out, so we pretty much just sat around, and left the house at six. The MIL rode with us, and the BIL drove his crew and the FIL in the FILs' car, which is the only one big enough for him to get into. The restaurant is in a strip-mall of restaurants, but is very nice inside and has absolutely excellent food. (An Italian restaurant.) All was well and nice; they had set us up at a round table, so we could all see and hear everyone. Even my usually-silent nephew spoke some; maybe he's finally growing up. We all have leftovers for today, which impacts on our own holiday meal schedule, but more on that later.

Then we went back to the house for some few desserts, although we'd had coffee in the restaurant. The MIL has many holiday decorations and trinkets all over; the Hubs' favorite is this alphabet-block thing that spells out "Merry Christmas" and has a Santa sitting on it, but every year, he spends heaven knows how much time re-arranging the blocks to say stupid things. Last night, K got into the act, and in a few minutes, topped her father's all-time best:

(That's the MIL on the side.)

We got home about eleven, also without traffic, and now we're in to spend the holidays with -- horrors! -- just us. I woke up with a colossal headache, probably from drinking nearly a whole glass of wine with dinner, which is more wine than I've had in years, so I'm getting a late start. The girls have even offered to go to the supermarket on their own, and I'm thinking of taking them up on it. Looks like we'll have our more-or-less traditional meal tonight (shrimp cocktail, orange salad, something else, I don't remember) but we'll skip the pasta, since the Hubs and K still have huge portions of last night's pasta left over, which they'll probably have for lunch. (I have sea bass leftover, but R polished off her filet mignon.) Somebody needs to make sure that the Chinese food place is open tomorrow, in which case, that'll be dinner. So I'm not cooking as much as I thought, although I will make some pumpkin pies later.

We were saying on the ride home last night that we should have wine with dinner tonight, and nobody could even remember where are wine glasses are. I did find them this morning, but the Hubs also found a bottle of cognac that someone gave him once, and I don't know if I can come up with glasses for that; I got some as a wedding present, but they've never been used, just toted around from place to place, no takers in any garage sale ever, and still someplace in a box in the basement. Maybe I'll look later. As for the wine and stuff, we always have bottles of one thing or another around, even though we rarely drink in the house, because the Hubs gets them as gifts every Christmas. He says he opens one bottle a year and uses it in his cooking from time to time. Anyway, I believe I agreed to drink red tonight, so we don't have to open two different bottles for just the four of us, and I'm guessing I haven't had red wine in 25 years. So tomorrow's headache ought to be a doozy. (I had a nice, very dry Frascati last night with dinner, and I know shit about wine, but it was most enjoyable. The drier the wine, the better I like it.)

So here it is, 10:30, and so far, what I've accomplished today is that I brushed my teeth, had a cup of coffee, and read Parade magazine. And read diaries and typed this, of course. I should probably go put on a bra, and then check the basement for those glasses. Or something.

Merry Rat Schism, everyone!


WATCHING BULL AND TED :: ENTRY #1330

Merry Christmas! Uh ... Wait

[copied from dland]

Okay, it's Christmas for us, kind of, although it feels like a regular Saturday in late October because it's 60 degrees out there today. But don't worry, Mr. President, global warming is just something the liberals made up to try to scare people into voting for them. Nothing for you to worry about.

The Hubs is at the office, and R isn't here yet, since we really don't have to leave until around two. Have I mentioned how much I hate the way this whole operation has been planned this year, the time, the day, everything? All to accommodate my niece -- not Wonderful Niece, the other side of the family -- who is going to Europe on Monday, and whose story, I have to tell you, does not sound kosher to me for a lot of reasons. She's really going, I just think not for the pure academic purposes she would have her grandmother believe.

So, on top of my uncharacteristic mall excursion yesterday, I went to Kohl's this morning because I was suddenly seized of the desire to wear a holiday sweater tonight. I don't believe I ever had any kind of holiday sweater, and they were on sale, so I got two, and with co-ordinated mock turtlenecks to wear under them. K is plenty scared, let me tell you; she's ready to call the padded truck people, and asked me to promise never to wear them. Bullshit. I bought them, I'll wear one set later. At least I'll look like I'm happy to be there, dammit. I won't look remotely like myself, but I'll fit right in.

I finished my book last night, which was Elsewhere, by Gabrielle Zevin. It's a YA book, but reminiscent a bit of The Lovely Bones. In this one, we see what the girl's afterlife is like, what happens there, the relationships she makes. I'm not saying it's a Pulitzer winner, but I liked it a lot and I cried.

So far, two out of the three others here think that being home with just ourselves on Christmas is the perfect opportunity to have Chinese food, like they did in The Christmas Story, especially since it is, they say, the traditional Christmas Day meal of Jewish people. Well, I wouldn't have to cook another meal, anyway. I don't know if Chinese food places really are open on Christmas or not, but we'll have to find out. Of course, we never had Chinese food on Christmas when I was growing up because it was my parents' anniversary and we always went out to some very fancy place for dinner.

I have so much straightening up to do in the house this week, and so far, no motivation to get started. At the moment, another hour of sleep sounds good, although unlikely. Actually, I think I'm going to look for my Mah Jongg sets. I have two used ones that my mother got me ten years ago -- more I guess -- which is another whole story, but someone at school has offered to teach a few of us how to play. I'm just wondering where they're hiding here in the house. There's a nice Christmas activity for you.

Good weekend, all.


WATCHING REEL TALK :: ENTRY #1329

Where Was I?

[copied from dland]

I was going to write yesterday, but I was just knocked out, so here's what I wanted to write yesterday, and then today. I guess.

Yesterday I was going to write about two stories in the news that I found particularly repulsive. The first is the story about the congressman from Virginia who wrote a letter to his supporters condemning the incoming congressman from Minnesota who is Muslim and who plans to take the oath of office with his hand on the Q'uran instead of on a Bible. This man -- the letter-writer -- represents the worst of all possible interpretations of "American", and has no business whatsoever in having a role in making our laws. He had clearly violated his own oath, regardless of what book his hand was on when he took it, by failing to support the Constitution of the United States, which, once again, states that Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof. No one is asking him to adopt the Q'uran, just as no one has the right to ask Keith Ellison not to. Ellison, btw, is behaving like a true gentleman in all of this. I tried to email him a letter of support this morning, but I couldn't get a valid email address, and Goode's site clearly states that he only accepts email from people who live within his own district. What a guy.

The other thing I couldn't wrap my head around was this so-called feud between Rosie O'Donnel and Donald Trump. First off, both of them are assholes and should keep their stupid mouths shut. Second, if you're going to talk trash about each other, quit making stuff up, the truth is bad enough. Third, as soon as you stoop to criticizing the other one's appearance, you've lost your argument and should slink away in disgrace. Rosie's not thin enough for you, Donald? Here's news: she doesn't want to sleep with you, either. He's got bad hair? Rosie, you couldn't come up with something better than that? Both of you: shut the fuck up.

And now, life.

School was over at 12:30, so I'm on vacation. Yay! I'm not hopelessly exhausted today, which is a first for this week, but I've got something going on, not sure what. It's definitely of the caliber of not needing attention, though, so it'll run its course and I'll be fine. After all, the Christmas marathon starts tomorrow with the trip to the ILs, down the Parkway to exit 88. (We live at 160.) Sunday we'll have a Christmas eve dinner for the four of us, then Monday, of course, actually is Christmas, so we'll open presents in the morning and then probably watch DVDs all day. (R is giving the Hubs An Inconvenient Truth and that other documentary about crossword puzzles.) Then some sort of Christmas dinner for the four of us, for which I've asked R to think of some interesting vegan dish to make for her father.

Tuesday's activity is not so much more Christmas as it is another drive down the Parkway. The drama teacher at school, to whom both my kids are still close, lost his father yesterday, and the wake is on Tuesday, down the Parkway at exit 98 (which is still pretty far, as you can guess, just a few miles north of the ILs.) So I think the three of us should go; K just left for work for today and is going to try to arrange her hours for next Tuesday so we can.

Other than that, I'm reluctant to outline my vacation week plans because when I do, I tend to break bones or get Ebola or something. But I will tell you what I did today ater school. I went to the mall.

The. Mall. Let me tell you, you may have heard the occasional movie or TV joke about "the Paramus mall" -- they said it on Ugly Betty last night, and it's in the movie Soapdish, among others -- because Paramus is a funny word, of course, but also it's a town just ten miles over the bridge from New York City and it's covered in malls. But Paramus is just up the road apiece from me, and today I went to The Big Mall, the one with two multi-level parking garages and a twelve-screen movie theatre set to open next month. It's THE single place I avoid like the previously-mentioned Ebola at this time of year, but you know what? I just felt like going. I didn't have to go for anything, just felt like it. Which made it not a chore and an ordeal, but fun. I went to the Apple Store and asked my little questions -- ten minutes, in and out -- and then to Sephora.

So now you're thinking, What's that, a typo? Sephora? The make-up store?

Yes. I, least girly of all girls, went to the high-class make-up store. And I bought myself some high-class make-up, because I'm a big believer in getting at least one Christmas gift each year that I really want, which means I have to get it for myself. This year, I got nifty make-up. It's from a company called bare escentuals.

Apparently, this is a big deal on infomercials and QVC, neither of which I watch, but my sister does and she recently got into this, along with Wonderful Niece, and I started looking at their website and stuff and thought I might like to give it a try. It would be nice to have glowing skin, don't you think? I'm rather caught up lately in taking care of myself and stuff, giving thought to what shampoo I use and the like. OH! And there was this other news story yesterday:

Weight gain is now being linked to having certain kinds of bacteria in your stomach.

Which would explain a lot, I think; all I need now is for ten years of research to get started so someone can figure out what kind of antibiotic I need and then ... I'll be okay. Just kidding, sorta, but not really. I mean, some of my weight gain is certainly explained by what I eat, but not all of it, and not the way I gained it, and not why I can't lose anything at all even when I eat 1200 calories a day for six weeks.

Okay, I think I'm off track here somehow; I'm not sure what track I was on, anyway. The Hubs' last bobblehead came today -- Robert E. Lee; I'll have to take a picture of the set and post it after Monday -- so I've got every gift and everything is wrapped. (Must remember to leave eBay feedback after I post.) I brought home some of the new YA fiction from the recent book shipment, and I guess after I post my feedback, I'll finish one of those. Or, mmmmmm, play with my new make-up. Yeah, that's the ticket.


WATCHING THE GOLDEN GIRLS :: ENTRY #1328

Unexpected

[copied from dland]

R GOT THE JOB!

The reason it's so unexpected is that she originally interviewed for the damn thing before Halloween, and they said they'd get back to her after Thanksgiving, and then they said they were still in the searching process, so who expected them to call her today and offer it to her? But they did. We are jubilant. This is a REAL. JOB. With commuting into the city by train, and getting benefits and sick days and everything. This is creative and educational and for a good cause and all kinds of things that I can't even go into. It's working in a big building that houses many fine organizations and, god willing, a lovely young man who will recognize her many gifts in the elevator that first day, and also have a friend for her sister.

So yes, I'm being unrealistic on that last one, but otherwise, it's one down, one to go, and maybe someday I can retire after all. That part is not unrealistic. This is an organization known for, among other things, keeping their employees long term. So if the job's a good fit for her, it's a career, with advancement opportunities and everything.

When I got home from school and K got home from work, we were so excited that we hugged each other because R doesn't live here anymore and wasn't around.

Ahem. Back to my actual life.

I finally got a phone at work today, and was amused and delighted to see that my new number is actually only one digit off from the number I'd had in the library for the last 30 years. (They put in a completely new phone system, so there's no direct dial like we had before, but my extension number is one digit off from the last four digits of the old number.) I called R first thing to tell her my new number, as she'd asked me to do, and I left it on a message, and then got the wonderful call back from her with her news. (So I'm back to that again. Give me a minute here.)

I actually went to the gym, and not directly home, after school, where I met with the manager/head trainer, whom I really like very, very much. We worked out a plan for next week so I can get back to work there, easing into it. I'm taking a Gentle Yoga class, and she told me what to tell the instructor when I go back to regular yoga, which I'll have to do the next week due to the schedule. And more gym stuff, which I think I talked about yesterday, all on track. The only thing was, I made my massage appointment for the same time I'd made my Apple Store appointment, so I had to change that when I got home.

I also went to the orthopedist just before, last time (on this injury, anyway), and I'm all good to go. I asked him a whole list of questions -- oh god, is my mother here? Who said that? -- and I can do whatever I want, and not wear a brace, and I'm all done with him. So, good.

There must be something to this going out and doing stuff after school, cause this is the first day this week I'm still clear in the head this late in the day. I finally sat down and paid some bills (and threw out the post-it that's been there all week), which I didn't feel smart enough to do yesterday. (Bitter experience has taught me not to touch a checkbook unless I'm feeling particularly bright.)

What else can I tell you? I'm still listening to the giant show tunes mix on the iPod, which I'm shuffling by album and not song so I don't completely addle my brain. I'm up to Camelot, having just listened to The Sound of Music -- slightly more serious than I'd remembered -- and a few songs from Gigi, which I also adore. Did I tell you that the music director at school said a few weeks ago that he'd do a Rogers and Hammerstein for me before I retire? He never will, of course, because a) there are no Nazis in any of their plays except The Sound of Music, and he would die first, and, b) there are no opportunities to dress high school girls in scanty costumes. Last year, Cabaret, which is typical for him. He likes his shows dark, edgy, and depressing. And sexy. This, while extremely weird and inappropriate for a high school, is not indicative of him having a thing for kids, which he totally doesn't, but more with he himself being a whore for ticket sales, and he figures that the sexy outfits bring in the public. He puts on unbelievably successful and professional musicals each year, but I haven't gone in a long time because I hate the shows he does. I'm negotiating for Oklahoma, but he doesn't think he can come up with kids to do that choreography. I offered Carousel, pretty dark, but he doesn't have a boy who can bulk up enough to play Billy. I don't think he likes South Pacific, despite the sex, and anyway, there's no kid who can pull off that operatic voice. I'm starting to think Camelot, although it's Lerner and Lowe, but it's funny and clever, and it's a classic story that all the kids have to read sooner or later, and even Richard Burton didn't sing, really. Of course, he was Richard Burton, but I guess he'd have to work around that.

I was just about to post when Eldest Nephew called from California. Had a very pleasant conversation, and I don't believe he even asked me for anything, which is generally his M.O. (He's quite the eccentric, and only recently self-supporting, but the only time I actually sent him money was when his dog needed surgery and I knew he couldn't pull it off himself. Also, he's a goof but not a liar, so I had no reason not to believe him. And remember, his dog talks, so who'd want to risk losing something like that in the world?) Anyway, had a nice little talk with him about his new attempt to finish his master's thesis -- finally -- with a new topic that sounds intriguing. And he sounds excited about it, so maybe he'll really get it this time. Oy, I sound so cynical. Lest I forget how much I love him and always have, here we are once again, circa 1977:

Good night, Gracie.


WATCHING no idea :: ENTRY #1327

And Now, For My Real Life

[copied from dland]

My earlier entry of the day, which I wrote last night and which was about shingles and my college boyfriend, is here.

We had our first class in the new library today. It was a very mixed bunch of juniors, a tiny class of 11 kids, a class that is technically the level below College Prep, which we call Regular, but which in fact is what used to be called Slow. They were coming in to get books for an independent reading project. One of them already had a copy of Siddhartha that she was reading. Others took various Young Adult novels, a little Stephen King, a little C.S. Lewis. A most interesting group, kind of boisterous and rollicking, but polite and friendly and fun. Not particularly slow that I could see.

I went to the Five Dollar store before to see if I could get some stocking stuffers for the girls, but other than Christmas socks (only $1 a pair), all I got was some stuff for me. No idea what I'm putting in their stockings this year, and really, how long do they get stuff in their Christmas stockings? My parents gave us Chanukah presents until we had our own children, and then they gave gifts to the children. I seem to recall that the ILs did something similar with stockings. Oy. I got years to go yet.

The other morning, I said Hello, how are ya? to someone in the faculty room and she said it to me and then we both just kind of shrugged and laughed. Then she told me that a doctor said to her once that if you're over 50 and you wake up in the morning and nothing hurts, it's because you're dead. I'm still chuckling over that one.

I went to ShopRite before, where I was the youngest customer by 30 years, an experience I am not eager to repeat. Is there something about Thursday afternoons? Is it the day the checks come? Anyway, each and every one of them was the only person in the store, or at least, they certainly seemed to think that they were. As for me, I picked up some frozen White Castle cheeseburgers for dinner, along with one of my all-time favorite horrible trashy foods to eat, Pop-Tarts. Oh my, do I love Pop-Tarts. (Damn! I was gonna get some Cap'n Crunch, too, and I forgot!) Something about not being in mortal belly pain anymore makes me just want to eat anything I can and want to get my hands on. I may have ... four White Castles. My personal best is seven, I believe, but I'm not going for a record or anything, and anyway, that was freshly made at an actual White Castle establishment. (At Thanksgiving, W. Niece's husband said that his personal White Castle best was 16, I believe. This is the guy who has Thanksgiving lunch at his aunt's house and then comes and has a full dinner with us. He can pack it away, boy. And he is very trim and lean, but was not as a kid, according to every picture I've seen. I digress.)

I went to Home Depot before to buy a new toilet seat. Now there's some scintillating news. I remember many years ago going to a Fortunoff's for the first time and they had a wall of unique and unusual toilet seats, and I thought it would be very cool to get one today that was purple, or polka-dotted or something, just to freak everyone out, but they pretty much had white and beige, round or elongated, take your pick. Not exciting.

Q is totally pestering me for food, and has been for 45 minutes, even though she's got a good 20 minutes to go before I feed her. One of the boys in the class today asked me if I had a cat, and when I said I did, asked if I went to such-and-such a vet, because he works there and he think he's seen me there. I said that he's probably been scratched by Q, if he works there, since she's gotten pretty much everybody at one time or another, and he grinned.

Okay, she's driving me batty. First some slop for her and then some nice little burgers for me.


WATCHING STILL STANDING :: ENTRY #1316

A Medical Marvel

[copied from dland]

This is what I remember most about having shingles when I was 20. It was during the summer, and while I had it, I was visiting my college boyfriend in Maryland. (His name, curiously enough, was The Phantom. More on that in a moment, or perhaps, never.) Anyway, we were having Sunday dinner at his grandparents' home. I liked his grandmother very much; I couldn't understand a single freakin' word his grandfather said. (I do remember that this Southern gentleman liked to sit on his back porch on summer evenings and shoot cats that happened to stray onto his property.) So I was talking to the nice lady a little bit about my condition, and she was sweet and sympathetic and said, "You know, if the rash goes completely around your body, you die." Well. Good to know.

Shingles, you may or may not know, is a rash that usually appears on your trunk, above the waist, and forms a band on one side of your body. I had it from the center front around to the spine, on one side only. It was nasty itchy, and I had gone to a dermatologist for treatment when I had no idea what it was and he gave me some lotion or something to put on it, after which I hopped a train for the rural wilds of northern Maryland. Anyway, only people who have had chicken pox can get shingles, since it's a variant of the herpes virus that lies dormant in your system for years until something wakes it up, and since you can't get chicken pox twice, you get shingles the second time.

Can you get shingles twice? Apparently it is very rare, but not impossible. Which means that if anyone is getting it twice, you know who it is. Do I have shingles? I won't know until tomorrow, when I go to the doctor. My rash is in some ways characteristic and some ways not, but again, if anyone will get the atypical edition, it will be me. It's just that thinking about the possibility of having shingles put me in mind of The Phantom's Grandma, and one of the most tactless and stupid things that anyone has ever said to me.

So, The Phantom. I have spent that last 33 years not thinking about him at all, mostly because after we broke up (following a three year relationship) he seemed kind of creepy and weird in retrospect. How did I originally hook up with this guy who was so shy as a freshmen that the other guys in the dorm gave him a nickname that stuck, a nickname that indicated how rarely they ever saw him? My roommate and another friend worked somewhat hard to get us together. I don't believe I ever called him by his real name, which his parents and my father found incredibly strange. (My father refused to call him Phantom, although my mother did. The "the" was omitted in direct address.) I was probably the first girl he ever went out with, aside from a fix-up for his senior prom. I'm fairly sure that I was also the first Jewish person he had ever had a prolonged conversation with.

He was an only child in what appeared to be an extremely dysfunctional family. I rarely saw his parents speak to each other; I know they never did anything or went anywhere together. They weren't hostile, not at all, just distant. His father seemed to have no idea what to do with a college-educated son, although The Phantom did share his father's passion for hunting, and they did that together but I think rarely spoke while they were doing it. They lived in a rural area, on an RFD route, surrounded by farms, but they didn't live on a farm, and his father was in construction, I think, or actually demolition. His father always tried to be pleasant and cordial to me, but he may have expected me to sprout horns and drain the blood of Christian children at any moment. There was always an odd air of caution about him.

The grandparents lived closer to town; I think the grandfather had been some sort of master mechanic in his day. Both families lived in very nice houses with lovely amenities of all sorts. The grandmother had a particular fondness for antique marble-topped furniture, as do I, and she had several beautiful pieces. The cat-shooting thing was pretty fucked up, though. He knew he was shooting neighbors' cats; he just didn't care. He didn't like cats, case closed.

It was a strange relationship, no doubt, and I fully expected for some time to marry this guy, at which point I would certainly give up everything that was familiar to me and move to where he lived. He could never have coped with life here. Driving on the highways freaked him out, the congestion of it all and the pace of life here. Still, I thought that was all okay, until circumstances brought me to a point where I needed to evaluate a rather key issue: was this the man I wanted as the father of my children? Put that way, the answer was a simple and extremely resounding No, and there it was. I broke up with him just after Christmas during my senior year in college. At that point, he was out of school for a year and a half, and had used his B.A. in History to score a job as a gopher assistant in a plumbing construction business. I'm not talking about a path leading to becoming a licensed union plumber. He hadn't made that decision yet.

He was about 5'7", weighed about 125 pounds, had shoulder-length brown hair and long sideburns cut straight across the bottom. (Remember, 1974.) He was really a sweet boy, but terribly immature and insecure. Needless to say, when the end came, some mention of my being Jewish was made. How surprised is anybody at all? He just didn't know any other way to cope.

I've looked him up on the Internet a few times but I don't know if I've ever actually found him. His real name is not all that uncommon, apparently. My dearest hope is that he's happily married someplace and has a variety of lovely children and that he's grown up some and is smarter in the real world than his father was, which he had the potential to be. I was never too keen on being on the outs with someone with a large gun collection in his basement.


WATCHING STILL STANDING :: ENTRY #1315

Through the Years

[copied from dland]

So, yesterday, the Sibs and I were waiting for the ridiculous ceremony to begin, and she was bored -- she's a bored-a-phobic, and I had suggested she not bring her knitting to the courthouse; it was a little too Madame Defarge for me -- and I told her I had all kinds of little video things on my iPod and she wanted to see what I had, so I pulled it out, and before I could stop myself, I showed her this:

Make an online slide show at onetruemedia.com

I posted it here before, when I made it, but I hadn't shown it to lots of people because I thought it might be hard for them to see. K saw it because it was on my screen here in the family room, but I guess I didn't send it to anyone else. The Sibs in particular can have issues when it comes to Jack and Shirl, and I guess when I made it, I thought it would be a hard time for her. But yesterday, she saw it, and was moved, as am I when I see it again. It's the pictures of course, and also the song.

As we were waiting for it to come on, she looked puzzled, like she didn't hear anything on the headphones, and I said, "It's that Kenny Rogers song, you know," and she said "Kenny Rogers song? You mean the one that mommy loved?"

Excuse me?

It's a funny thing, you know, that we're sisters and we both spent so much time with our parents, and still, there are things that I know and things that she knows and they don't always overlap. This must happen in every family or circle of people, I would think. Anyway, even before my parents died, when I first heard that song "Through the Years," it made me think of them. They had their issues, god knows, but still. They were married for 58 years. They stuck it out. What I didn't know was that my mother also totally thought that song was them. It's as if it became "their song", like they needed a new one at that point. (No idea what their original "their song" was, but I'm thinking Doris Day singing with a big band kind of thing. My mother was also very fond of "Sentimental Journey," so maybe it was that.)

Anyway, I'm somehow very psyched that I thought this song was so very "them" and Shirl did too, without my even knowing.

The Sibs said she loved the movie, but it made her sad. I said it made me happy. But I was listening to the song in the car before, and I realized that it makes me happy and said at the same time. I talked to her, and she said it was the same.

Sometimes it feels like one or both of them -- Shirl and Jack -- is right here, listening and knowing. I can just hear Jack's reaction to that one: "Uh! That's foolish." because he was an atheist and did not believe in an afterlife of any kind. (A note on that: for years he would describe himself as an agnostic, but decided after age 80 that no, he was sure now, and therefore an atheist.) But Shirl, I know, would buy it for real. So as far as I'm concerned, she's right here somewhere. Maybe if I'm a good girl, she'll come and talk to me in a dream soon, or more likely, call me on the phone in a dream, which has happened a few times before. Best dreams ever, being with and talking to someone you love who's gone in real-life.

So that's where I am at the moment. Feeling the good stuff.


WATCHING no idea :: ENTRY #1314