My Mission

[copied from dland]

Didja ever wake up in the morning and you knew what you were doing that day, but really, really, you knew that there was something else you were just supposed to do?

Yeah, like that.

It's a weekday, therefore, I go to work. But this morning, I couldn't face the whole shower/hair/makeup/getting dressed all-of-it-routine. Why? Don't know. I did get up and shuffle cars around for K and clean the snow off them, and I made a little list of what I was going to do when I got up. Then I called in sick and went back to bed.

I got up around ... eight, I guess; K was in the getting-ready-to-go-to-school process, just making some breakfast. I snuck in and made a quick cup of coffee, made pleasant chit-chit for a bit, and then she left, maybe around a quarter to nine. I shifted into gear.

My first task was a simple one: fix the squeak in the hinges on our bedroom door. But I knew at six that although this was the first thing on my list, I was going to have do some other work first. Like clean out the cabinet under the kitchen sink where all the cleaning supplies are, because otherwise I wouldn't be able to find the WD-40. I threw out, I sorted, I cleaned. While I was sitting on the floor, I cleaned under the big cart that the microwave sits on, and that whole little part of the floor under the sink cabinet .. the toe-kick, is that what it's called? Of course, this led to a general sweeping of the floor with a dustpan and brush, since I was already sitting on the floor. The cabinet is lovely, the squeak is gone. One down.

I was also doing laundry before during and after, including cleaning out a horrid little corner of the laundry room.

Oh, I forgot; while K was having breakfast, I re-arranged and straightened out the slipcovers on the family room couches (a task I put off as long as I can, since I hate doing it) and made that whole room look nice.

Once the kitchen was done and all the trash taken out, I put away laundry and took a look at the living room and decided to save that for the afternoon. Although I did take some things from it downstairs, so that helped a bit. But I needed to put a slipcover back on a chair in there as well as re-arrange all the furniture back to the way it was before Christmas. Later.

Then I remembered the bathroom. Oy. I won't give you details, but I spent about an hour in there and it looks a lot better than it did before.

I made another cup of coffee and put last night's Idol on the DVR. I got up to put something in the living room and took a look around. Hey, how long could it take?

So I got the living room done, all except the slipcover, but it's arranged back the way I want it and all vacuumed and everything. Oh, I've also been going around dusting all morning. To you, this may not merit a mention in your diary. For me, they should put it on CNN.

It's noon. Done, except to get the last load of laundry out, to get that slipcover on, and to finish that last cup of coffee.

I never, never, never have the energy to clean, but today I just woke up with it. It's what I was meant to do. Okay, it's not a calling or anything, but it all worked out just right for me today.


WATCHING IDOL :: ENTRY #1364

Eyes 0

[copied from dland]

No change yet on the hearing aid front, but my eyes are bothering me a lot today. Not my usual dry right eye that feels like it has sand in it, this is just two heavy, droopy eyelids today. Of course, today was the public debut of me in eyeshadow, so I'm sure there's a connection, but there was always that risk that putting makeup on my eyelids would cause a reaction. Maybe that's it and maybe not; maybe I'm just really tired, although I slept relatively well last night. So I don't know.

You know, I'm very into this makeup thing, which is of course a major lifestyle shift for me. I always wore makeup, but not effectively, apparently. I probably told you all this last spring when it happened, but I wore new makeup one day (not what I'm into now) and someone told me I looked great and I said "Oh, new makeup" and the Chum, one of my closest, closest pals, said "When did you start wearing makeup?" and I had to say that I always wear it, every day, for like, I don't know, 30 years, and she was astounded. As was I; why was I bothering when I must have still looked like shit?

(A word on that, take it or leave it, as you wish. I mentioned something to my sister recently about the goal of wearing makeup so that you look like you're not wearing any, and she said that's stupid; you don't have to look like you're not wearing any, because women without makeup on look like crap. The goal is just to look good.)

So here I'm doing this whole routine, and I'm telling you, not a single being (except my sister) has looked at me and said "Hey, you look good" or "I like your makeup" or any of those sort of things that women say to each other. I pointed out my eyeshadow to the Colleague this morning and she said she was just about to ask me why I looked like I had a black eye. Hmm. (Keep in mind that we have the kind of relationship where we can say to each other "Oh, what's wrong with your face today?" so that was not intended as rude and I didn't take it that way.)

That said, I also noticed around lunchtime that some of the makeup had drifted onto the collar of the mock turtleneck I was wearing, so I felt totally like trailer trash today. Must consider wardrobe more carefully tomorrow.

I selected my wardrobe today for easy access; after my first-period class I dashed across town to get blood drawn for the tests the new doctor ordered. The lab was very nice, in fact, and there's a Dunkin Donuts practically next door, so there's breakfast. (It was a fasting blood test, so no food or drink for 12 hours before.)

Once again, I was in the part of town I grew up in; I seem to be there often lately. I had to drop something else off at the lab after school (ahem), so I was back, and went into the CVS there, too, instead of the one in the center of town, close to wear I live. After another errand or two, I was back there again, picking up a quick dinner at McDonald's, and I took the route home down my old street. (It's the best way to avoid the traffic lights.) It still feels odd when I go past there. What must it be like to grow up and live in the same house you grew up in, to never leave that childhood place? I know several people who've done that, for one reason or another.

An excellent Heroes last night, but what was up with Studio 60? Vipers? They had real-life vipers on the show, and we saw them? (All right, I barely peeked through my fingers, but I think they were real.) Finally I had to close my eyes to keep the vipers out, and I fell asleep and missed the end. I'll try and catch it on the recording, but seriously. I think TV shows should be rated for snake content, not just sex and violence and bad language. I want to know how much serpent to expect so I know whether to watch or not. I'm still amazed that K didn't come running downstairs shouting "Don't look, don't look!" because all of my family members are devoted to protecting me from any possible view of the serpents. They're very good that way. Ah, she must have been asleep already.


WATCHING MASH :: ENTRY #1800

Eyes 1 Ears 0

[copied from dland]

So now I have eyeshadow. I tried taking pictures of my eyes to show you all, but the color didn't come out right, so there was no point. And it was kind of scary, to tell the truth, since I took a separate picture of each eye to show you how my left eye looks all lovely like and my right eye looks all mutant, but in fact, my right eye really looks perfectly fine on its own; it just doesn't look like the left one, and you know, whatever it is your body's got two of, they don't match perfectly, so I'd better get over it. It is, however, more difficult to put eyeshadow on the right eye due to the skin having no muscle tone so it's much wrinklier, but I'll practice. My left eye looks really nice, so I've won half the battle.

My hearing aids, meantime, are the suck. They've been cutting in and out all day, but not even with any kind of warning; it's not as if I hear a signal and they go out. They're just drifing in and out on their own. And every so often I hear random radio sounds, like something out of a 1950s scifi movie. I'm going to the new audiologist a week from Wednesday, and I'm sure it will take several weeks for any new ones I get to come in, especially since I'm hoping for in-the-ear (known as ITEs), which take longer to make because the electronics have to be stuffed into the custom-made ear form, which has to be made first.

I had hoped to go to the make-up store on Saturday with R (so I could get her hooked on it), but the mall was too crowded; I made plans to go after school today with the Sibs instead. We had such a good time! We browsed the shoes at Nordstrom's -- didn't buy -- and took care of some business at one of the cell-phone kiosks, and then I got my eyes done. The girl helping me today was a) not the brightest bulb, and b) had her own eyeshadow on in a somewhat clown-like manner, so the Sibs was indispensable. The girl kept wanting to put three colors on my, including a dark color in the crease, but seriously, my good eye has such a deep crease that you can't see the color at all, and my other eye is somewhat hooded now, so the crease is equally invisible. The Sibs explained how she does it with two colors, and helped me pick out good ones, so that was fun. Then it was 4:00 and we were starving! Just like the old people in Florida, anyway, we went to Ruby Tuesday's, as she had a coupon, and she treated me for a belated birthday dinner! So, an excellent afternoon all around.

And that's all I have to say about that.


WATCHING THE SIJMPSONS :: ENTRY #1362

Sidetracked

[copied from dland]

I was going to talk about the whole Dakota Fanning thing, but I just don't have the energy. Morons are just going to keep on being morons, no matter what. Do they really believe that a child was raped for a movie? Probably not. So what makes it any of anyone's business? Don't like it? Don't see the movie. Case closed.

Okay, so I did talk about it. Having trouble staying on track today.

Had the kind of day where I just kept getting one thing done after another, all the laundry done and put away, eyebrows waxed, supermarket, cleaners, all kinds of crap. Cleaned out the refrigerator. Did every single conceivable exercise in my plan, both in the gym and at home. I even did Walk Away the Pounds for five minutes to see how it felt on my knee. Felt fine. That's still the best aerobic exercise for me to do; for some reason, it doesn't exhaust me or put too much strain on any particular muscle area or body part.

R went in to work in the morning and came here after; she and K are out at the moment picking up dinner (Mexican food) so I've got a chance to write. We went a few places, including to see K at work (more to buy things at K's store), but we skipped the mall, since by Saturday afternoon the mall is not a place you want to go unless you're already there. I had wanted to go to the make-up store with R since I think it wouldn't hurt her to get started on some grown-up make-up and I'd help her out a bit, but it was just too crowded. So I'm going to go after school on Monday with the Sibs, which should be fun.

Ah, dinner's here.


WATCHING MEET THE FOCKERS :: ENTRY #1361

Scattered

[copied from dland]

Boxx commented that she'd like to see Cesar Chavez and Malcolm X added to the poster collection. I gave them both thought, actually. I chose not to include Malcolm X at this time because I do have a Martin Luther King on the wall already, as well as -- I don't know if I mentioned this the other day -- an amazing photograph, large and framed, that's on loan to us. It was taken by a news photographer in Birmingham during the civil rights march there, and shows a group of people being blasted by a water cannon. It's an incredibly powerful picture, and better than anything else evocative of that era that I could find. As for Chavez, yes, I'm aware that there's a serious lack of Hispanic and Asian representation here. I expect to add that in to next year's order. While Chavez is certainly iconic, I don't know if he's quite what I want right now, although I may end up with him. I'm still working on those selections. (If Bill Richardson is elected, though, I promise to get a picture of him in there somewhere.)

I'm done with posters now.

In more exciting news, it's damn cold out there today, record-setting, in fact. This morning, it was about 9 degrees (that's about -13C) with a wind chill of -11 (-24C). This afternoon, it warmed up all the way to 21 (-6C)/5 (-15C). What makes this so strange is that two weeks ago tomorrow we had another record-setting temperature for January: 71 (21C). Not at all surprisingly, there was no heat here and there in the school building today, including the library. Apparently, there are just chunks of the building that didn't get connected or reconnected to the heating system when the construction was done. In the counseling office, which was formerly my library, I believe they removed the heating units (which didn't work anyway) and neglected to put in new ones. Ah yes, the beauty of the lowest bidder.

What else can I tell you? I did not make it to the gym today for a variety of reasons, but I will be going tomorrow, and three days in one week is probably the record for me. I'm going to do my at-home little workout thingies as soon as I post. Then I have four more episodes of Project Runway Season One on disc to watch, some of which I won't get to until tomorrow or Sunday.

Oh, here's a story from last night, which will be somewhat rambling, I fear. I've mentioned my OldFriend, whom I speak to often but rarely see, since she lives in New York City (in a charming area known as the West Village, which is part of Greenwich Village) and doesn't travel well, even to New Jersey, and I am city-phobic and so only get in there to see her every couple of years. (It's a distance of roughly 22 miles by car, btw, so not a big deal distance-wise.)

Okay, transition. R often calls me when she gets off the train around 6:20 and is walking the few blocks home. She called around then last night, but said that she was in the city, meeting an old friend of her own for dinner in the Village, and was early, so she called to talk while she was walking around and hanging out. I asked where she was and she was right around the corner from OldFriend's apartment, so I directed here there. Not to drop in, but just to know where it was, since she was killing time anyway and this way she would know. She moved on, and I was directing her to the antique store where OldFriend works, but which I assumed would be closed at that time. Suddenly, R said "I see it. Oh, the lights are on! I'm going in; I'll call you back."

Remember now, that given our various problems, neither of my kids has seen OldFriend -- and more to the point, she hasn't seen them -- in at least ten years.

R called back about 15 minutes later. She had gone in and seen her, approached her and said "OldFriend?" Unused to being addressed by strangers by name, I would think, OldFriend tentatively looked at her and said "Yes?" At which point R pulled her hat off and OldFriend shrieked "R!" and they had a lovely visit for the 10-15 minutes that R had before she took off to meet her dinner pal.

I liked that very much, as did OldFriend, who called me later as soon as she got home. She was always fond of my kids, and vice versa; we did see her more when they were little. I do remember once after we dropped her off at the bus-stop to go home after a visit, the girls and I were driving home and the obvious finally dawned on one of them -- must have been R, I'm guessing around 8 years old -- and she asked if OldFriend had a husband. I explained that she did not. Why? she asked. I answered in whatever language that OldFriend had not found someone to settle down and share her life with, but if she did, it would be with a woman and not with a man. There was no further why, just an understanding of the answer, that this was part of OldFriend. I had always known that when it came up, it would be that easy, and it was. I think if you present things to kids in a very matter of fact way, they just accept them as normal and move on. They already knew OldFriend and loved her, so what difference did it make?

Okay, gonna go get buff now.


WATCHING REBA :: ENTRY #1360

The Story Is ...

[copied from dland]

That I am lately addicted to the ellipsis. Moving on.

The full story on the posters, with appropriate illustrations, is here.

I just made an appointment to have my eyebrows waxed on Saturday, which is only significant because I've been going to the same person for facials for maybe eight years now which means, I guess, that I haven't done anything to my eyebrows for at least that long, since she hasn't done it and no one else has. It's not like I'm running wild here, since my eyebrows appear to be diminishing with age as well, like my mother's -- who knew -- but you know, I've got the one eyebrow that works and is more or less always arched and I've got the other one that's paralyzed and so it never arches, so I figured a little careful shaping might normal that out a bit. Never thought of doing that in fifteen years. And I forgot to ask the doctor about the botox/paralysis thing yesterday, but I was also deliberately not asking her EVERYTHING at the first visit so she would call the men in the padded trucks on me.

I managed somehow today to get the vice-principal's permission to stay at school through lunch and just leave early, taking my lunch at the end of the day, which was my early day, so it was almost like a half day for me, but with permission. (Only on a mid-term day could I get away with something like that.) So I did an errand or two -- looking for posters for school, actually -- and then went to the gym. Two days in a row, go me! All in all, a good workout, I'm getting better at it each time. The Doobies, sadly, were not the best music I could have gone with, in part because I didn't realize that what I had was from a concert album, which makes everything a little less familiar and the rythym not always steady, so it kept throwing me off a bit here and there. But someone here has got to have a regular Doobies CD, so maybe better next time. And I'm thinking maybe some Creedence.

It was snowing this morning when I left the house, and it actually took a half hour to get to Dunkin Donuts and then school, a trip that usually takes about ten. The roads were slow and the railroad tracks were stuck down, so I had to detour and take a longer route. Which means I forgot to go to the bank, and now I don't want to go out again. Hope the Hubs has what he needs for tomorrow.

Twenty minutes later, it turns out that the one in the house with the good Doobies CD is me, and I had all the songs on my iPod but one, and I had a live version of that, which got mixed up with the others and there ya go. Creedence, I got.

I'm finally catching up on the last House, which I was waiting to watch with K, but she watched it Tuesday when she had a day off. So now I gotta go so I can read the captions while I watch.


WATCHING HOUSE :: ENTRY #1359

So, Then I ...

[copied from dland]

Let's see. I was at school this morning, and then took a half-sick day in the afternoon to go to the doctor, which wasn't until 3:00, so I went directly from school to the gym, which is definitely the way to get that done. Wish me luck for tomorrow. I did all the weight machines, some of them twice, and added a new one, and even did some time on the stationary bike without feeling like I was fixin' to die. The trick there was that I could hear the music playing in the gym, and it had a good beat and I could pedal to it. So now I'm loading up the little shuffle with the only music I have that I've ever been able to exercise to consistently, which is the Doobie Brothers, and I'm hoping it strikes twice here and I'll even be able to ride for longer.

I squeezed in a nails appointment between the gym and the doctor -- another task-filled productive day -- and then it was time. This doctor has some different methods than my former one -- a 30 year age difference will do that -- so she was different, but not bad. I have to say that I have no negative feelings about her or her office. I never felt that she wasn't being appropriately thorough. The other thing I liked was that I wanted to ask her about not taking the hormone replacement therapy anymore, and the very first thing she asked me about, before I got to say anything, was the hormones and that she thinks I should go off them. I told her I want to stop when school is over for the year, and she said I will actually go though withdrawal, and unpleasantly so, if I stop cold turkey. Funny how the GYN never mentioned that. So I'm going back to her (today's doctor) in June, and she's going to put me on a plan that weans me off them slowly, to minimize the bad effects. Sorry if that's TMI. I'm psyched.

*Geek Spoiler* Aw, the little Trekkie just got bumped out of the mansion. I do adore this show. And that CeCe, what a bitch.

Oh, I also asked the doctor if she knew the magic secret to losing weight. She was very sweet, and seemed sad to have to tell me that the only answer is aerobic exercise. (Hence tomorrow's return to the gym with biking music.) She also said that there's some new med coming out that targets belly fat, and since she's a doctor, I assume she's not talking about the same stuff they show on infomercials in the middle of the night. (Maybe this is that thing I was talking about a few weeks ago where they found that certain bacteria in the stomach cause you to retain weight and they're working on a pill for it, but I don't know.) Anyway, she said it might be available when I see her again in June, and if so, she may prescribe it for me. Of course, with any luck, I'll have accomplished some on my own by then and won't need it, but let's not hold our breath. (Oh, and I was weighed in her office today, as opposed to not having the courage to weigh myself at home for some time. The last time I saw that number on a scale, I was nine months pregnant. Enough said.)

So I'm in school all day tomorrow, which is the second day of midterms. That means the kids get out at 12:25, after which the whole staff has lunch at the same time and then we come back until ... when? Thursday is usually one of my early days in the rotation, which means I leave at 2:35, but I know that the SCM will figure that since there are no kids there, he gets to leave early, too, but I think he's not supposed to. Whatever, not for me to worry about. The only thing I don't know, since I wasn't there today, is how long the staff lunch period is. Which means I don't know whether to bring my lunch -- if it's short -- or just go home or do errands if it's a whole hour. One of the errands is for the library anyway, so maybe I'll just ask for permission to go do that, I don't know, I'll see.

The errand, btw, is to go get some posters. I ordered a lot of them today, but there are a few more I want that I couldn't get cheap online, so I need to go to Michael's or some place and see if they have them there. The SCM and I decided to forego the standard library READ posters, and we made a list of iconic images that we wanted to put on the walls. To the best of my recollection (the list is in school), I ordered

• Starry Night
• American Gothic
• a picture of Albert Einstein
• Washington Crossing the Delaware
• a reproduction/explanation of The Bill of Rights
• the Beatles crossing Abbey Road
• a picture of John Coltrane

and a bunch more, I think about a dozen altogether. I'll post the list tomorrow. I'm still looking for

• Norman Rockwell's Four Freedoms
• an Ansel Adams photograph
• a poster for Casablanca or Citizen Kane
• a Picasso
• Jesse Owens leaping from the starting blocks at the Berlin Olympics

and I think some others, but again, the list. I have only three posters on the walls now, saved from the old library. These are

• Martin Luther King and the text of the I Have a Dream speech
• The Niemoller quotation about the Nazis first came for the Jews, etc. and no one was left to stop them when they came for him
• a portrait of John F. Kennedy

Oh, I'm also looking for the picture of the Big Three at Potsdam (Roosevelt, Churchill, and Stalin), but if I can't get it, I'd like a big portrait of just Churchill. And the burning of the Reichstag, if I can find it, and the explosion of the Hindenburg, but I doubt I'll find those at a crafts store. (I did find nearly all of these online, actually, but not all in my price range, which is cheap. I'm not going over $15, and that better be a nice big poster.) Oh, and Lou Gehrig's farewell to baseball.

Okay, there ya go, two entries for the price of one.


WATCHING AMERICAN IDOL :: ENTRY #1358

Another Day, Another ...

[copied from dland]

The story of the day is that I'm not so happy with the new library secretary, whom I believe I will now refer to by the diary name That Woman. Personally, she's fine, although that may just be denial on my part, because she's being all passive-aggressive and I guess that is not personally fine, but we are not failing to call her on things and point things out, albeit in a way that is probably coming across as passive-aggressive from us, but What.Ever. Enough of that shit.

I got my driver's license renewed today, so now I have a horrible new picture on my tamper-proof, digitally recorded and printed, all kinds of fancy new New Jersey Driver's License. The truth is, I didn't even look at it; it was enough to see my picture up on the screen there for my approval and it was indeed horrible, but that's what I look like in pictures. If I lose 30 pounds and look somewhat more human, I'll go back and pay for a new one.

And tomorrow, I'm leaving work after the morning -- which means I can go at 11:15, btw -- and then going to the new doctor in the afternoon. I'm very interested to see how that works out.

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Oh. Did I forget to post this? The Hubs came home and I got distracted and I've done like twelve other things and I just checked my buddy list and my name wasn't in red. Hmm, my bad. Here ya go.


WATCHING ACCESS HOLLYWOOD :: ENTRY #1367

Did I Get A Lot Done Today?

[copied from dland]

I think I did. Not sure, but it feels that way, even though some of what I did was kind of on the odd side, but in the interest of full disclosure, here goes.

I shaved at least two or three minutes off my morning routine by bringing my morning meds and my glasses into the bedroom last night instead of leaving them on my desk in the family room, thereby cutting out the trip into here after my initial bathroom stop. Too much disclosure, you say? Well.

The Hubs' alarm goes off at 5:15, after which he takes a shower, gets dressed, and leaves the house, all of which he can do in 15 minutes, tops. Which is good, because on a day that K has to get up early for work, I need that 5:30-5:45 bathroom time so that I can be all done when she gets up at 6:15. Lately, the Hubs has been sleeping in until 5:25, when his snooze buzzes. The ham in the sandwich, therefore, is me ... I, although that doesn't sound right, but it is ... so two or three minutes is a big deal to me, especially since I'm now doing a ten-minute make-up thing and a ten-minute hair thing. Two months ago, hair and makeup combined took five minutes. But I look a lot better now, so I'm not complaining.

Anyway, I was off to a good start.

I left the house just after 6:30 because I wanted to stop at CVS before work, but I wanteed to get to work by 7:00. CVS because I wanted to buy one of these, which they have in their ad this week. I had actually already ordered one on line, but it was taking forever to come, and you know, a bird in the hand. More on that later. I got one and went to school, after a mandatory Dunkin Donuts stop.

I had to print some things that K needs for school, but I wanted to get them done and put them in my car so I wouldn't have to drag them with me to the faculty meeting after school, and the doors near where I park my car are locked for the day at 8:00 am, so if I go out, I have to go all the way around the building to come back in. Done before 8:00, then.

After 8:00, I had to call one of our vendors and explain why they had billed us in error. Why is this significant? Because it's not my job, that's why. The library has a secretary who's supposed to do this kind of thing, but by the time she gets there and I explain it to her, I could have had it done and filed for hours. New secretary? Not so much working out. Not that she's unpleasant, which she isn't, or for that matter, not smart, which she certainly is. In fact, she's so smart that she has worked out a way to do as little as possible in a job she didn't want to take and get paid the same salary for it that she got doing her old job, which she liked. Despite all of us agreeing on her hours, she pretty much comes and goes as she pleases. I miss the Colleague terribly, more and more each day, and she hates the job they moved her to.

Had two excellent classes in today. Not excellent in terms of their ability, or for that matter, interest, but it was a great assignment and I taught it in a completely different way and they got into it and all of them did it. I liked that a lot.

We were divided up into groups for the faculty meeting, and somehow, some way, I had gotten to make up the groups. So I put myself in a room full of people I liked, and picked the most easy-going presenter for us, the one who was most likely to cut out the bullshit and get us out of there fast. Which is what happened. Home by 3:30, when the meeting was supposed to have ended.

Home, for the make-up festival on QVC. It's like my sister and I haven't shared a hobby so since we learned to needlepoint. We were on the phone while it was on, and I even talked to her about it during lunch, since she had seen the first run of the program this morning. I only ordered one thing, and I needed it anyway. Seriously.

While I was watching the make-up show, I blew up the bean -- the aforementioned had-to-have-it-at-CVS-at-6:45am item -- and gave it a go. Seems okay. I need to find a better way to support my neck, but otherwise okay. I also finally got through to them on the phone, where they offered to refund me $20 since I told them I'd gotten it for that much less locally (which I had) but when I got the guy to understand that I don't need it because I already have one, he said that when it arrives -- it's already been shipped -- I just need to call them for a shipping label to send it back at no cost to me.

I caught up on last week's SVU, so now I've got no backlog of recorded shows to watch. I had leftovers for dinner, which I almost never remember to do, thereby being efficient both in not wasting money and in not leaving stuff to rot in the refrigerator.

And did I mention that the freezing rain/light snow predicted for today never materialized? Okay, that isn't strictly something that I got done, but it is nice not to be thinking of K driving around in it. It's damn cold out there, though, with apologies to my friends in Minnesota, Wisconsin, and Alaska, who all probably think I'm some kind of pantywaist, and I probably am. But it's cold to be out walking over open spaces, like campus parking lots.

What else? Heroes tonight, and Studio 60, and a Supernanny to record and watch later in the week. And Gilmore Girls tomorrow.

Ahhhhhhh.


WATCHING REBA :: ENTRY #1356

Who Can Beath Nixon?

[copied from dland]

I got this game in 1970, when we had to find a candidate to beat Nixon in order to save the free world as we knew it. You know how that went.

So now Hillary has declared her intention to run for president. *sigh* You know, I like Hillary well enough. She's got the liberal cred that I long for. But I hope she doesn't win the nomination. If she does, the Democrats might as well use this as their campaign slogan:

We Really Don't Want to Win!

Because I don't think she has a chance. Neither does Barack Obama, not now. He would make a decent vice-presidential candidate now, and a reasonable presidential candidate in the future. But I don't think this country will elect either of them at this point. Do we want to elect a woman or a true minority candidate? Then s/he's gonna have to be a conservative Republican. Just the first one, just to get the ball rolling. After that, it won't matter who or what runs on what ticket. Why? Remember that old Vulcan proverb:

Only Nixon could go to China.

That's why. And what we really really really need next time is for a Democrat to win, to sweep Washington clean and throw the blackguards out.

John Edwards looks the best to me at this very moment, but I'm reserving final judgment for now. I like Joe Biden, but I don't think he can win, either. You know who I really want to vote for -- Bill Clinton, of course -- but since that's prohibited by that little thing called the Constitution, I'll have to let that go.

---

The other day, I used this expression in regards to someone and K didn't know what it meant:

Here's your hat; what's your hurry?

You know, it's not easy to explain that one. You're trying to get someone to leave fast, but you want them to think it's their idea and you feel bad about it? I just looked it up in Google, but although it's used by many many people -- apparently a popular blog-entry title -- I couldn't come up with a definition. Didn't look terribly hard, but there you go.

It's coldy cold cold out there today, in the teens. Freezing rain predicted for tomorrow. I've got one less to worry about, since R now takes the train into work, but K has her long day at school tomorrow, 10 AM to 8 PM. Maybe I wouldn't be so tense if I hadn't been trapped in that same university's parking lot during bad weather when I was there as an undergraduate. Well, at least she's got a cellphone, so if she's delayed, I won't be a nervous wreck the way my parents were.


WATCHING WINGS on DVD :: ENTRY #1355

Where the Day Took Me

[copied from dland]

Physically, the day took me no farther than my own desk chair, except for the mandatory Saturday morning trip to the cleaners and Dunkin Donuts, and a very brief foray to the Container Store. Other than that, I've been right here.

It's been some day.

I got up at eight, and by nine I wanted to crawl back into my bed. But I didn't, and when I finished my coffee, realized that my whole day was clear, and what lay before me was the copying of pages from my medical file. I started at the back, and the first thing that came up was the full surgical report on the brain tumor. The two big revelations here were:

1. The doctors knew ahead of time that it was a benign tumor as well as an acoustic neuroma, although they were very careful to tell me that they weren't 100% sure of either. They were.


2. I could make copies of these files but I had absolutely no place to put them.

The first one. No use crying over spilled brain tumors, and it's 15 years down the road and I'm okay. So, no recriminations here. But if I had known ahead of time that it was an AN, I could have gone to the big AN specialist in New York -- I know his name, and knew it then -- and the opthalmic plastic surgeon who ultimatley fixed my eye over the course of three surgeries would have been in the room with him and would have fixed my eye right that first day. Letting that go, totally.

Second. I needed something to file papers in. Ergo, the Container Store. But when I got home, I had no place to put the containers. Thus began my day of sorting and tossing last year's papers, followed by the sorting and tossing of the stuff in my one file drawer. Friends, this kind of stuff is my downfall. I never throw anything out, even though I know that someday my children will have to toss it all. I keep every paid bill, every bank statement, nearly every receipt. But today, I was ruthless. And I totally did it. I recycled two paper supermarket bags of papers, and two more of shredded papers (like bank statements.) I threw out every college tuition bill (which I still had, even though they've both graduated) and the year's worth of Amazon receipts. (Why do I keep those?) I filed things I still needed to keep where I could find them. What a concept.

Vindication was swift. When I talked to the Sibs this afternoon, she asked me if I had renewed our shared C0stco membership. And I reached right down into the file drawer and pulled it out and gave her the date. I am a god. (A minor household god, but a god nevertheless.)

During the first few hours of doing this, I had The Bob Newhart Show Season 3 running, so that was excellent. After K left for work, I remembered that I had the first disc of Project Runway Season 1, so I popped that in. I'm not too focused on it though, although it isn't bad background. Bob was better, of course, because I really didn't have to pay too much attention, having seen that all before. But this is fine.

At 6:00, I finished everything, including the medical files and all the shredding. Only then did I remember that I hadn't eaten since breakfast and I hadn't done my laundry, a necessary Saturday task since the Hubs' does his on Sunday -- yes, my husband does his own laundry and cooking, but remember, he snores -- and R is coming over tomorrow to do hers as well. Okay, I did have a piece of pie just before I started the project, which turned out to be cherry pie, actually, in a box marked strawberry. I wasn't too bummed, though, since I had been deciding between the cherry and the strawberry anyway. I like cherry pie.

My desk, meanwhile, is just unbelievably uncluttered and neat, since I filed all kinds of stuff from the desktop too. All I have left (in papers, anyway, I've got other crap on it) is current bills to be paid, the pages I printed out about new hearing aids, and the little booklets for my new make-up. What was obsession for those first few weeks has mellowed nicely into routine, but this make-up line is going to be featured on QVC on Monday, so I've got a list of what I have and all the prices so I'll know what's a good deal or not. Okay, perhaps I spoke too soon about the mellowing of the obsession, but hey, a girl needs a hobby. And I'm not getting more, as such; I'm not branching out into eyeshadow or lip color, neither of which I wear at all, just looking for good prices on stuff I'm going to need to replace anyway when it's used up. Really. Pinky swear.

I also checked to make sure that I have all the documents I need to go and get my driver's license renewed on Wednesday, because they need all sorts of proof that I am neither a terrorist nor an illegal immigrant. Presumably, I have what I need because I have a passport, but I think they would not accept my birth certificate if that's all I had. It doesn't have an official seal of any kind on it, which they seem to want, although it's the only copy I've ever had and everybody else has taken it. I have a New York City birth certificate, copies of which were made as negative photostats, so it's white writing on a black background. It lists my parents' full names -- my mother by her maiden name -- and their addresses, "color or race" -- that's a good one -- ages, and occupations. My kids have always found this peculiar in many respects, since theirs, and all other New Jersey b.c.'s I've seen, look like cute little yellow diplomas with blue printing, including the seals, and only list the baby's name, birthdate, and birthplace. Maybe I'll see if I can get an official copy from the city, although what for I have no idea. If I've never needed it until now, I never will. I guess that when you die they just assume that you were at some time born, yes? I also found my social security card, the one I had issued after I was married with my married name, so not the original, which vanished sometime in the early seventies.

So, I'm good. I had an unbelievably productive day. Go me.


WATCHING PROJECT RUNWAY SEASON 1 :: ENTRY #1354

It's So Late

[copied from dland]

Oy, it's after 8:00 pm and I'm awake -- what's wrong with this picture? Yesterday, I put myself down on the bed after school "for my back," and two hours later I was fighting to wake up, so today I didn't allow myself to be horizontal. K napped, and then we went to the supermarket and then had some dinner and I've been doing this and that since then and now I'm ready to drop.

I just got email from my Good Guy Nephew's fiancée with their wedding date: September 12, 2008. 2008? That's a two year engagement, which seems like a long time for people who've known each other since middle school. (Okay, they've only been a couple for ... wait, that's two or three years already; I can't keep track, but it's not a recent thing.) Well, I guess that gives me time to lose 35 pounds and for both my daughters to come up with some men-folk of their own. I swear, it's going to take a hundred years for any of my sister's kids to make her a grandma. So far, it looks like her best shot is the 17 year old, and even that won't be until after he's out of college. (Although she does have an adorable step-grandbaby via her husband's daughter. But we need a local grandbaby, dammit.)

So my sense of self-discovery is going to a new level this weekend, as I've just acquired my medical records so that I can bring them to the new doctor on Wednesday. I wonder just what's in there, although I have a reasonable idea. Actually, I'm going through it to make copies of some things, like the report on the brain tumor, which I had a copy of once but I more or less lost it. It'll be like taking a trip down memory lane, but in the handicapped lane. I'm either getting a good laugh or a serious depression out of this one. I'll let you know.

In the meantime, when we went to the supermarket before, guess what we bought?

PIE!

Yes, it's the once or twice a year when I satisfy my constant need for PIE. We got a strawberry pie; no idea why, but you seldom see that, just strawberry pie. I used to make that years ago, when I baked more often.

I made kick-ass pies, btw, because I learned to make pie-crust from a master baker, my OldFriend's Grandma Fritzi, who was an amazing baker. How I learned her secret pie recipe and her daughter and granddaughter didn't is another whole story, but once I knew, I used to make pies all the time. I think my pie-need is the crust, actually, since I'm not particular about the filling. I would sometimes use the canned filling but make my own crust, sometimes do the whole thing from scratch. (Grandma Fritzi's specialty was peach pie, as it happens, of which I'm not a huge fan.)

So I'm going to have some pie now and then fall asleep on the couch. And tomorrow I get to yell at my sister for forgetting to tell me that her son and his fiancée set the date, even though I talked to her for a half hour before. She's a bit of a ditz sometimes, I think, but I'll keep her.


WATCHING REBA :: ENTRY #1354

Il Neige

[copied from dland]

Un peu. Un petit peu.

(Forgive me. I took French for six years, and some of it stuck; every time I see a snowflake, instead of thinking "It's snowing!" I think "Il neige." None of the snow stuck today, just that petit peu of French.)

I am very excited today. I did me some research -- man, gotta love that Internet -- and I found a few different brands and several different models of available hearing aids, none of which my audiologist carries, and I made an appointment with a new audiologist who is actually around the corner and down the street from my house. (Not that the other one is far, across the street from my gym, actually, so, ten minutes.) I have multiple questions to ask, but it looks like there are models available that are in-the-ear (here's a picture of my current aids, behind-the-ear models) and also WiFi. Now, I believe that WiFi is also a radio frequency, but hopefully, not the same frequency as the ones I wear and as every other device now made. Anyway, I'm going February 7, and I'll see then, but I'm very hopeful.

I've watched the last two nights of American Idol off and on; I don't so much enjoy the early episodes, which seem to be just Simon crushing people into powder over and over. I didn't watch the last two seasons at all, but due to the magic DVR, I'm going to watch this one. Even so, I watched Beauty and the Geek for the first hour last night because I LOVE THAT SHOW. I've got last night's Idol on now, until it's time for Betty, to see if I can catch some of the acts that K liked and said were good.

.
.
.

Okay, I watched. She said there was a brother-sister pair that were good and also adorable. And they are.


WATCHING AMERICAN IDOL on DVR :: ENTRY #1352

No Title Today

[copied from dland]

Like Summer-Gale, I always figured that Sophie made the choice she did because she thought a boy, and an older child, would have the best chance of survival.

My dippy niece -- not Wonderful Niece, but the one on the Hubs' side -- lost the gift card I gave her for Christmas from the Giant Jeans Conglomerate. Her mother called and told me the other day. Yada yada yada I made a zillion phone calls and searched through my unfiled papers for the receipt and now I have to stay home this afternoon because UPS is delivering it today and they require a signature. Am I being a dope here, or what? The SIL would have gladly made all the calls but she would have needed the receipt, and I bought other things that day and she didn't need to see all that, did she? When you lose a gift card, isn't that just your own damn fault? Do you expect to get it replaced? I don't know, just asking. Anyway, I'll send it out tomorrow and then she'll have it and it'll be over (as I thought Christmas already was, foolish me.)

I was leaving work before, driving out of the parking lot, and thinking "This week is so long! How can it be only Tuesday, it feels like so much later in the week!" and then I started to laugh and said "Oh, because it's Wednesday." Does it even make a difference?

Oh, I got my bookends today, along with a bunch of other stuff. Getting there, getting there. (That was 300 bookends, btw, which the SCM put out. He's good for some things, after all.)

I'm cold, I'm tired, my back hurts. Just to remind you that this is still me you're reading.

Okay, I've let this go on long enough. I'm going to put on my jammies and eagerly await my Beauty and the Geek. Huddled under a blanket.


WATCHING changing channels :: ENTRY #1351

And Then ...

[copied from dland]

It's Monday night, I've already posted, but I'm getting a head start for tomorrow because I just saw Meryl Streep win a Golden Globe and make a speech, and K and I were talking aobout her early film roles, and so I've got a Sophie's Choice anecdote to share.

Now, if you haven't read the book or seen the movie, this is a spoiler, but since they came out 30 years ago (or thereabouts), I think I'm on safe ground.

In brief, Sophie is a Polish Holocaust survivor who was forced upon her entry to the concentration camp to choose which of her two small children would be given the opportunity to be saved and which would die. For reasons which we are asked to imagine -- not spelled out in the story -- she chooses life for her son, her older child, and death for her smaller daughter.

At some time after the movie came out -- which was 1982, actually, so this was a few years after that -- the topic of the story came up in the faculty room, how it would be an impossible decision for any mother to make (which is why it was so tragic, of course), and my pal The Other Chai, then and now the mother of an only child, ultimately concluded that Sophie made the only choice anyone could, because she saved her firstborn, and every mother feels a special -- and greater -- love for her firstborn than she could for any other child.

The others in the room, mothers of multiple children, had no reply. We looked at her, in some cases, with dropped jaws. Do you really need to have more than one child to get that? Uh ... isn't that what the book was about?

---

Tuesday Afternoon

Great name for a song.

So we have printers in the library, lovely new excellent printers. We still have five computers yet to be installed (because the architect had computer furniture installed that blocks the electrical outlets) and the teacher's computer in the computer lab/classroom installed (because the architect didn't plan for an electrical outlet at the front of the room) and our photocopier is still on order (but due within a week or two, I hope.) All that and about 300 bookends (also on order) and we'll be up to speed. The day keeps me busy, and that keeps me happy.

It's cold at last, for what that's worth. I haven't heard of any snow in the forecast yet, but the temperature's dropping. It's not that I like it, but I do like the whole normalness of it.

I pulled a muscle in my back this morning, not a big deal, but I thought that the weight machines at the gym wouldn't be the thing for it. I put on a heat wrap when I got home, so I'm hoping for a better tomorrow on that. How did I pull a muscle? I reached for the tea bags on an upper shelf -- with my right arm -- and felt a lower-left back muscle spasm. How does that work, anyway? (And no "neck bone connected to the head bone" please. I get it, I get it.)

What I'm doing here is trying not to write about a local tragedy, a wonderful man who died unexpectedly on Friday, but it's all I can really think about. He was unbelievably community-minded, had a wonderful family ... we're all very sad here. I've known him a long time, as his late mother-in-law worked at my school for many years. He was only 48, and left four children, the oldest of whom gave him CPR, but the heart attack was massive. I tried to go to the wake this afternoon, but the line was literally out the door; I heard that last night the line was three hours long. It seems that everyone in town knew him or his wife or her sister (my kids' first grade teacher) or one or more of his kids, two of whom are already out of the high school and the youngest not yet in it. What can I say. It's overpowering around here.

Okay, so I didn't manage to avoid that very well, but I guess it's better that I didn't. And on that note ...


WATCHING STILL STANDING :: ENTRY #1350

Eh?

[copied from dland]

An exaggeration, perhaps, since the part of my hearing aid I broke today is not one of its functional parts, only the end off the ear mold that holds the thing in place in my deaf ear, but still. It doesn't really affect my hearing unless it falls off my head, which could happen. Anyway, it gave me a good excuse to make an appointment with the audiologist, since I need a new ear mold -- my, that sounds disgusting -- at the very least, but I made the appointment for a new hearing test, too, since I'm thinking that my little device may need to be re-programmed with some new test results.

Why yes, I am fascinating today. More hearing aid news.

I got a lot done today, including a new rug, although I didn't get what I expected or what I was looking for. The old rug is a braided oval, 5' x 8', navy and various other shades. What I wanted, remember, was something I could throw in the washing machine. I saw one at Bed Bath and Beyond, but they didn't have any good colors for my room. So I went to The Christmas Tree Shoppe, which had what I wanted, but too small, and I gave up, but on my way out, right near the door, they had oval braided rugs (!) slightly smaller than what I'd had but the right color, and CHEAP! So I got that. If it lasts six months it was worth it, since it cost half as much as the one I put out with the trash today after six months, and I thought that was cheap. So, rug issue resolved.

The topic for today is folk music. I was listening to the Folk playlist in the car before and realized, first, that it's a totally crappy playlist and I need to re-do it, but my attention was drawn to a particular song, The Universal Soldier, by Buffy Sainte-Marie. This is a hard-core anti-war folk-protest song, which I had just been telling K about the other other day. The lyrics are below, or at the link there, but the essence of the song is that it is each individual soldier who is responsible for war.

I remember hearing it back in the day and thinking only "Well, there's a point of view, and an extreme one, but hey, everyone's entitled." And when I was thinking of it the other day, and especially when I was listening to it before, and Buffy's rather strident treatment of it, that I decided, at last, that it's bullshit. But it wasn't an uncommon thread during Viet Nam, that somehow all those men over there could have just said no and then there wouldn't have been a war. Thank god that sentiment is no longer displayed, not now and not during Desert Storm. Maybe it was some kind of weird backlash to the way soldiers were previously seen as larger-than-life heroes, which wasn't the case either, I would imagine. But politics aside, and I've got strong politics, anyone who thinks that soldiers in any war are gung-ho life-size G.I. Joe dolls is missing the point.

(No intent to inflame here, but I'm including the lyrics. No nasty comments, if you please; I'm disagreeing with them, remember. But it's worth a look, if only for historical purposes.)

He's five feet two and he's six feet four
He fights with missiles and with spears
He's all of 31 and he's only 17
He's been a soldier for a thousand years

He's a Catholic, a Hindu, an atheist, a Jain,
a Buddhist and a Baptist and a Jew
and he knows he shouldn't kill
and he knows he always will
kill you for me my friend and me for you

And he's fighting for Canada,
he's fighting for France,
he's fighting for the USA,
and he's fighting for the Russians
and he's fighting for Japan,
and he thinks we'll put an end to war this way

And he's fighting for Democracy
and fighting for the Reds
He says it's for the peace of all
He's the one who must decide
who's to live and who's to die
and he never sees the writing on the walls

But without him how would Hitler have
condemned him at Dachau
Without him Caesar would have stood alone
He's the one who gives his body
as a weapon to a war
and without him all this killing can't go on

He's the universal soldier and he
really is to blame
His orders come from far away no more
They come from him, and you, and me
and brothers can't you see
this is not the way we put an end to war.



WATCHING GOLDEN GLOBES RED CARPET :: ENTRY #1349

Peeve Alert

[copied from dland]

Today's entry is brought to you by the pet peeve "poor editing." I can only assume that poor editing is responsible, because writers will make mistakes but editors are supposed to catch them and correct them before they're published. And just because your newspaper -- or news whatever -- is online, mistakes should not be excused, nor standards relaxed.

The one that got me today is an error that couldn't even have been made, let's say 30 years ago. Here goes.

Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice may have thought that she could escape the controversy over her exchange with Senator Barbara Boxer (D., Cal.) by coming to the Middle East, but she has another thing coming.

What's wrong with this sentence?

For one, to have "another thing coming" is a colloquialism, and has no place in journalism, where a more formal style is appropriate. But I do understand that such standards have relaxed in recent years, so I'm going to let that one go. However:

ANOTHER THING COMING??????

Editors, please read the sentence, and really, don't use colloquialisms unless you can get it right. The essential part of the sentence is

Condoleezza Rice may have thought .... but she has another thing coming.

Folks, what she has got coming is another think. She had a thought ... the implication is that she was wrong ...therefore, what she needs is another think, not another thing. This turn of phrase is what makes it informal, a bit of a tongue-in-cheek use of language.

Sheesh.

I return you know to your regularly scheduled entry.

---

I gymmed this morning, and plan to tomorrow, since I'm not going into work. Even though I had cut back on my original gym plan when I went back, I think it was still too ambitious for me to achieve. I need to start even smaller, and make that a regular habit, and then pick up more. I've decided not to do any classes at all for now, unless the new schedule coming out in two weeks has that Gentle Yoga at a time I can go. Otherwise, I'm just doing the weights, and instead of planning Tuesday, Thursday, Sunday, I'll just go whenever and as often as I can, and hopefully, it will be at least three times a week. Part of the after-work problem is that I'm more comfortable changing at home and going in with just my keys and headphones and not schlepping a bag and changing there, but once I'm home, it's hard to get out again. Gotta get that all worked out.

From the *SMACK!* I coulda hadda V8! department:

So I was back from the gym and fiddling with this entry, among other things, and K stomps through the kitchen carrying an armful of sheets. The midnight pooper has struck again. Poor Boo is an old cat and loves K's bed and is not intentionally pooping everywhere, he just can't help it. So she puts her sheets in the washer, making that every day this week, and plops onto the couch in the family room. When this happened yesterday, she announced with justified annoyance: "We've got to put a door on my room."

Easier said than done, Grasshopper, our house is not so conducive to doors. The only rooms that have them are the Hubs' and my bedroom, and the bathroom. Her room is up the steps to the attic and then poof, it's a room. Putting a door up there would involve building a wall, which should have been done before we put down the carpet, but we didn't.

But this morning, she was so miserable and it occurred to me for the first time -- we've lived in this house for 20 years -- that we can put a door at the bottom of the stairs. The bottom, where there's already a door frame ... what a concept! This is so easy that 10 years ago, I could have done it myself, but now I'll call someone or other. All it involves is buying a bi-fold door, painting it, and putting it up. I'll make a call or two tomorrow. It probably won't even be an expensive job, I wouldn't think. Another problem solved.

Next problem is that I've got to replace the rug in the living room -- again, hello cats -- and I'm going to be smarter this time and get even cheaper rugs that I can throw into the washing machine. I almost don't care what they look like. If I could get one of these and it was machine-washable, I would get it. (Maybe I could make little road signs for the cats that say "Poop Here" or something.) I'm considering the biggest bathroom rugs I can find, if they don't look too plush, i.e., like bathroom rugs. Someday, I'll get really really nice rugs, probably just in time for grandchildren to throw up on them, but I'll cross that bridge when I need to.

I have been very, very good with the eye drops today. The hearing aids have been irritating -- just cut out before for no reason and then came back -- but the eye drops are working out. Yes, I'm 15 years later than I should have been in doing this, but hey, whatever. What's a little corneal damage among friends at the old age home.

It's 2:00 in the afternoon and I'm crashing. I need to put my head down somewhere and sleep, even if it's for 15 minutes. Later.


WATCHING GILMORE GIRLS on DVD :: ENTRY #1348

The Next Day

[copied from dland]

Again, thanks for the neat birthday wishes and ecards and stuff.

We just got back from dinner out at a vegan Chinese restaurant in the small city where R lives. Very nice, and I've got plenty of Crispy Tofu for tomorrow. The sauce was delish.

So I continue to sleep a lot -- unusual for me -- and yet I am dragging myself around, exhausted. I got out of bed this morning at 8, an unheard of hour; I'd rather be in Target at 7 -- and by 11, I was leaving the supermarket and wondering if I had the energy to get to my car. I thought I'd close my eyes for a while when I got home, but the phone kept ringing. I did improve somewhat through the day, but I'm getting ready to crash again.

My knee is hurting me today, not where it was actually broken, but in the spot I felt the "pop" when it first happened. (The bone was fractured in the center, but the pain is on the side.) Since I know the bone is healed (which I know because it doesn't hurt every day, just sometimes) I am going to have to assume that this is something I just have to live with. Going to the gym is probably good for it, and I need to make myself go more often. I so love it there and feel good about being there and what I'm doing, I just can't get up the energy to go do it often enough. I'm shooting for tomorrow morning.

I also need to get better about using eye drops. In one of my recent searches for more hearing aid information, I came across the message boards for the Acoustic Neuroma Association, which I've seen before but haven't participated in for years. Once again, I do see how lucky I am, as many of these people were left with impairments far worse than mine. But others, it seems, had doctors who knew what they were doing beyond the surgery; mine did not. My surgery went very well, but it never occurred to him that physical therapy might help my facial paralysis, and that there were other treatments for my paralyzed eyelid. Even so, there was a board talking about dry-eye and they're right, eye drops often are the answer and I must do it. I was also curious to see that there are AN people exploring the use of Botox to help with some of the facial paralysis, which is interesting; apparently it has been helpful to some Bell's Palsy patients. Maybe I'll see what the new doctor has to say. It might do something for that spot over my right eyebrow that's kind of frozen in a down position, so unless I can relax my face 100% -- try that sometime -- I have a bit of a permanent scowl look. Wouldn't mind getting rid of that. The hope is that freezing the damaged muscle in a relaxed position, which the Botox does, will give the nearby muscles a chance to try to work normally so that when the Botox wears off in time the problem doesn't come back. I'm sure I'll have to ask a plastic surgeon at some point, but it's an interesting thought.

R was telling us all about her job at dinner, and she seems very happy about it. It looks like a pleasant and good job, and is probably one she can have for life, if she wants it. I already knew that this was a company that keeps employees very long term, but she confirmed it; the others told her that "nobody ever leaves."

K, in the meantime, went to campus today and got her student ID and textbooks, and starts classes on Wednesday. She's on a path, but sometimes it's hard for her to hear about her sister's cool job and all, although she's not actually jealous, as such. But by the time she's her sister's current age, she'll have a good job, too, teaching. It's what she wants, and always has. If she had taken a different route, she'd be teaching today, but you know, you make decisions and you have to deal with the results. She won't regret it in the long run, but she's losing patience with it a bit now, I think. Ah, well. It'll be better once the semester gets underway and she's busy.

Okay, it's the couch for me.


WATCHING SVU :: ENTRY #1347

Another One Down

[copied from dland]

Thank you, thank you, thank you to my birthday well-wishers.

I've been having an uneventful yet not unpleasant birthday. I got a card from the Colleague and a box of Polish chocolates from Media Girl. (She's an immigrant from Poland, although now an American citizen, and always gives yummy ethnic treats for gifts. She's a doll, in fact.) The SCM, no surprise, didn't remember. I had an email from the Hubs as soon as he got into the office, and a call from R on her walk to the train this morning. K is at work for a bit more, and then she and the Hubs will be home and R will call back and we'll see if we want to do anything for dinner. The Sibs' phone is out of order, so I guess she'll call me later on her cell, but I can't call her.

The highlight of my day was taking Boo to the vet after school for his rabies shot. In my boredom there, I took a cellphone video of him yowling in the carrier for you all, but I can't get it posted. Maybe tomorrow.

I had an interesting class in this morning, a group of five from a kind of alternative program we have for emotionally troubled kids. It's part of our school but meets regularly in another building; they only came today for an hour and a half to use the library. Five kids and two teachers, and let me tell you, they could have used another one. It amazes me to see what some teachers are capable of and choose to do as their careers, in this case, to work with very needy and demanding kids. But they were very sweet with me; they're not nasty, just trying to get out of work or escape down the hall. I also did a chunk of re-cataloging as well as processing new books, and that always make me feel like a real librarian again, so I liked that. I put aside a half dozen new books to bring home and look over but I forget them in school. I remember that one was How We Are Hungry by Dave Eggers and another was What Lincoln Believed by Michael Lind. I can't recall what the others were, but the Eggers book was the only fiction in the box, and the biographies were all kid books, you know, for research projects, not fun to read. Oh right, one was a guide to selecting graphic novels for the library, so that's professional reading.

Graphic novels. Are you familiar with those? The classic is Maus: A Survivor's Tale by Art Spiegelman, but take me past that and I'm clueless. All the others just look like Classics Illustrated Comics to me. Maus was an amazing, original story told in words and pictures. The few others I've seen are not, but then, I'm not an animé fan, and maybe a lot of it is that. Hence the professional reading.

So I've gotten the cat shot, which means that now he can get bathed on Monday because, remember, he smells. I was amused, as always, when it was his turn at the vet's and they called out "Boo ItalianLastName?" So weird, you know, like "Mittens Goldberg?" or for that matter, "Snowflake Smith?" I know who I am; if you call "Boo?" or for that matter, "Mrs. ItalianLastName?" I'll know it's our turn. Hey, couldn't Mary the receptionist have just said "Chai?" It's not like we haven't known each other for twenty years and live around the corner from each other and our kids all went to school together.

We finally have normal January weather, for whatever that's worth. No real snow, of course, although they had flurries for five minutes somewhere yesterday. But it's cold enough. Can't say I care for it, but at least it feels normal.

Okay, I'm off.


WATCHING STILL STANDING :: ENTRY #1346

Ahem

[copied from dland]

Yes. I used the word irregardless, with tongue planted somewhat irreverently in cheek.

I have two little mini-rants today, both about school. Here's the first one.

I have a very nice new display case in the hall outside the library doors. It opens from the front, something I've always wanted, although the doors are sliding, so the whole front can't be all open at once, which makes it hard to put big things in there. Whatever. Yesterday, I put in a nice display using some World War II service newspapers that the head of the history department lent me, along with some local newspapers of the same time (with headlines about Pearl Harbor and such, and local boys signing up at their draft boards), as well as an item or two of my father's, and the book The Greatest Generation. I saw that the light fixture on the ceiling, so to speak, of the display case, had no bulb, so when the custodian came by I mentioned it, and he got a long fluorescent bulb and put it in.

And the two of us stood there and looked and looked and looked and looked. There is no switch to turn the light on. No where no how. Not in the display case, not in the nearby storeroom or electrical closet. It's an electrical fixture that's connected to nothing and cannot be turned on or off.

Moving on.

Kids cannot walk in corridors or stairways anymore.

I do not know why, or when this happened. True, I've avoided hallway traffic as much as possible for the last 30 years, but it's only really since we moved that I notice that people do not walk on the right side of the hall and leave the other side for oncoming traffic. The surging crowd fills up the entire space, and woe to someone coming the other way, who has to squeeze sideways against the lockers (or stairway railings.) If there's an equal sized crowd coming the other way, then they split the hall half-and-half, but if it's a time when most of the traffic is moving the same way -- like leaving the cafeteria after lunch -- it's a one-way street. The halls in the new building are wide, but the stairs are all narrow, so that there can never be more than a single-file in each direction at once, but it's generally a crowd coming one way, up or down. Very weird.

I have so much to do in the house but I am mega-tired, even though I've been sleeping okay. R is loving her new job. I just got home and K is at the eye doctor, so I'm going to see if I can nap just a wee bit before she gets back.


WATCHING DR. PHIL :: ENTRY #1345

Well, It's Cold, Anyway

[copied from dland]

Not that I'm loving the cold, but at least it feels normal. I'm guessing that we've finally had that killing frost, or at least, will have it tonight.

So I've been wearing my new jacket, the one I got on sale from Land's End. Their advertising, let me tell you, is a bogus tissue of lies. (Okay, the jacket was cheap. Irregardless:) ) It says in the blurb that this jacket will be comfortable at 10 degrees, and will be comfortable at -5 degrees if you layer underneath it. I presume this means that the layer underneath should be a real down jacket. I went to the mall after school and parked in the garage and was freezing cold walking to the building, and it was only about 35, not even close to that "10" they're promoting. Bah.

Have I ever really had a jacket that was warm enough? I think I did when I was a kid, which makes me wonder if

1. Jackets were warmer then.
2. It wasn't as cold then.
3. I wasn't menopausal then and having internal temperature changes every five minutes.

Hmm.

So, who's watching Mr. Dub on TV tonight? I'm taking a pass. I was explaining to the Sibs before -- who says she's watching -- that I haven't felt so repulsed by a president since Nixon (who is starting to look pretty damn good these days.) When Nixon's face came on the screen, I had to turn it off; I could not bear to watch him. I don't think I felt that way about any president since, even ones I didn't like or disagreed with. But I cannot watch that smug smirk. I'll read about tomorrow.

The Sibs also commented about the difference between kids today versus kids of our day in terms of there being a war on. We were immersed in Viet Nam from 1965 or 66 on. Whether you agreed or disagreed with what was happening, you knew about it. Now, her son Little K is nearly 17, by which age we were all totally caught up on everything, but she says that neither he nor any of his friends appear to follow this at all. We were wondering if this was because of the draft; back then, all the guys we knew were subject to it in one way or another, so it was a constant presence. Of course, that's not the case today, so maybe that's the difference. Don't know, just speculation.

Speaking of spec, I seriously doubt that the draft is coming back; Congressman Rangel is opposed to it himself, and only suggested it to make a point, that there are often no other opportunities for the poor. He's not wrong. Should there ever be a draft, they would have to draft men and women; to do otherwise would violate all kinds of laws at this point, I'd think. But there's an easy out for everyone, anyone could just say "I'm gay" and the military wouldn't take him/her. It's not the stigma it once was, and neither is changing your mind when the mood strikes. Anyway, both of my girls have medical issues that would keep them out, and my sister's kids are all too old, except, of course, Little K. Which makes it still worth worrying about on some level, I think. *sigh*

(I also think that a draft would in no way distribute the burden more equally in terms of poverty, since it was easier for well-off people to get out of the draft one way or another even during Viet Nam. Oh wait, now I'm back to Dub again. Just goes to show you.)


WATCHING REBA :: ENTRY #1344

Who's Harold?

[copied from dland]

First, a note to the empress, since it seems we cannot comment to each other anymore. Last time I tried to comment to you, I got a message that I was a poopy butt, or a poopy head or something poop related. Didn't know until now that you couldn't comment me, either. No clue there on my part.

I was a bit cranky when I got home and so was K, it seemed, so I avoided her and went to ShopRite, and now she's fine, although we're both very tired due to bad sleeping last night. Yes, I spoke too soon about getting three good nights' sleep in a row. Last night, after trying unsuccessfully to sleep on the couch -- at one point, Boo came into the room and stood next to the couch and the smell woke me up -- I put on the headphones and the go-to-sleep music and it did not block out the sound of the Hubs' snoring and teeth grinding. Ever wonder why sometimes older couples no longer sleep in the same bed? Yeah, I don't wonder so much anymore. Either that or I'll get the whole bed to myself when I kill him in his sleep one night.

.
.
.

Half hour later. Okay, maybe I won't kill him. I just got an email from his blackberry -- he's at a seminar tonight -- that says "Blast from the past. I was just chatting with Harold Rubenstein." Who, you may ask, is Harold Rubenstein?

Folks, this is one of my all-time favorite Good Shirl stories. Here goes.

Back in the day, I went to graduate school full time at Rutgers University in New Brunswick and I lived in a dorm on campus. The Hubs -- at that time, The Boyfriend -- lived at home here in Bizarro Town with his parents and commuted to Rutgers Law School in Newark, Newark being about halfway between New Brunswick and B.T. Shortly after he started, he became friendly with a guy named Harold Rubenstein, who, it so happened, went to the law school but lived on campus in New Brunswick because he was some kind of dorm counselor. So he would be in class with the Hubs during the day and sometimes have dinner with me in the dining hall. Very nice, outgoing guy.

So the Hubs was coming to visit me one weekend, and Shirl casually asked where he would be staying and I said "Oh, with Harold," and I explained who Harold was. She was okay with that, but of course, he never stayed with Harold at all.

Harold did not come to our wedding for some reason, but shortly after we were married, we were having a little party one evening (when I still did such things) and I was telling Shirl about the planning and such, and she asked who was invited. I named this person and that and I said "And Harold." And she said "Harold? Who's Harold?"

I said "You remember, the Hubs' friend from law school who lived on campus near me. Harold."

And her eyes got huge and she said "YOU MEAN HE'S REAL???"

So yes, folks, in some ways my mother was a Totally Cool Mom. She had her moments, but you gotta love a mom like that, eh?


WATCHING REBA :: ENTRY #1343

What Time Is It, Anyway?

[copied from dland]

I have no idea. The one thing I can tell you is that I have got one bad smelling cat here -- what have we been feeding him? -- and I just realized that I can't take him to the groomers until I remember to take him for his rabies shot. Eeuw. He needs a bath a week, but he sure ain't getting it from me.

Sorry, brain fart. It's hard to ignore a stinky cat.

In other news, or actual news, as the case may be, R had a good first day at work at her new job. She said she was only in her own department briefly, as she spent most of the day in various orientation sessions, but her department did throw a little welcome party for her with donuts and such. So it looks like very nice people she's working with, and she has a cool official email address and the like. She is working, btw, for a big television station in New York. Very excellent.

As for the moment, they've started showing Enterprise on the SciFi channel, and since it's the only Star Trek series I never stuck with, I thought I'd give it a shot. The second episode just started, and I'm already bored. Maybe because I watched this far when it was first on, I don't know. I love Star Trek, and always liked Scott Bakula (big Quantum Leap fan as well), but this series just never grabbed me. It's going to be on for three hours every Monday night, I think. Let's see how far I get. For now, I'm thinking I'd rather watch Supernanny at 9:00.

Here's something you don't hear often from me: I've been sleeping very well the last few nights. I still wake up every two to three hours, but I've had no trouble falling asleep or getting back to sleep or even sleeping later in the morning on Saturday and Sunday. Funny, I tried that new program that generates music-tracks-to-fall-asleep-to for that nap on Saturday, but I haven't even had a chance to use it since then since I've just been sleeping like a regular human being. Maybe I should buy sleep aids more often.

Speaking of not knowing what time it is, it just occurred to me that the cat groomer, who is in a nearby PetSmart, is still open since it's not even 9:00 yet, and I called and made an appointment for Monday. Monday is Martin Luther King Day, and public schools are generally closed, as they ought to be, and as all public offices are, but my school district does not close. Why? Seriously, god only knows. Is it because they think there aren't "enough" African-American kids in the district? That appears to be the reason, which makes it more inappropriate. It may not be; we don't close for Columbus Day either and we certainly have a hefty population of Italian-Americans, but Columbus Day is not the same level of holiday as MLK Day. Banks and post offices do not close for Columbus as they do for Dr. King. Anyway, what my school district is doing is having a half-day for kids and an in-service afternoon for staff. Gag.Me.With.A.Spoon. So I'm getting a haircut at 1:00, and now, so is smelly Boo. An efficient use of a day, I believe. Which also means I've got to get him to the vet one day after school this week for that shot.

Speaking of days off, we have a four-day period for midterms at the end of the month, which means half-days for the kids, and I'm going to take one of those afternoons off and go see my new doctor for the first visit, for a physical. (And going to get my new driver's license before that.) It's so long since I've been to a new internist that the last time, I had no chronic ailments of any kind. Now, I don't even know where to start. I'm afraid if I give her my medical history and start reeling things off, she'll run screaming from the room. ("So, doctor, I had this brain tumor, and genetics say that I'm an excellent candidate for a heart attack or a stroke or maybe breast cancer, and by the way, I spend half my day in the bathroom. Anything you can do for me?") I'd run if I could.

Hey, I wore the socks that R made me for Christmas today!

See what I mean about my foot being round?

Okay, it doesn't look so round, but that's actually the ribbing and the seams in the sock. I was going to take a picture of my newly pedi-ed feet, just for boxx, but after a whole day on them and by lamp-light, they don't look so lovely anymore! Looked a bit too much like Shirl's feet, and let me tell you, that woman had some heinous feet. (My feet are really nothing at all like hers, which were a long-standing - heh - family joke. I do, however, have her double-chin and no ass. Ah, there's those pesky genetics again.)

I have no idea whatsoever as to what's happening on Enterprise except that Scott Bakula is still cute, I still don't like the Vulcan, and all the other characters are interchangeable. I never watched Voyager to the end, either; I liked it a lot, but when that Seven character took over the show, I bailed. Could not stand her. Can't watch Jeri Ryan in anything else, either. So that's my bit of personal Star Trek trivia for the day.

Well, at least I'm getting better at writing a lot about nothing.


WATCHING ENTERPRISE :: ENTRY #1342

And You Are ... ?

[copied from dland]

The state of New Jersey wants to know who I am.

I got my driver's license renewal form in the mail today. We're a little behind in this state (due to the huge population, I would suppose), and this is actually the first time that I am required to renew my license in person. Up until now -- up until nearly three years ago, actually, just after my last renewal -- people over a certain age were not required to have photo licenses and could renew by mail. Over a certain age only meant all the people who had licenses before N.J. had photo licenses at all, which is about 15 years ago. Since then, I've been getting photo licenses, but I was never required to have one. It made renting a car in another state somewhat problematic, let me tell you.

Anyway, just after my last renewal, the state instituted this new license program whereby the licenses themselves are digital or something, and have all kinds of anti-copying watermarks and the like, but they also require real good proof of identity before they'll give you one. You've got to bring with you either a birth certificate -- I don't know how that proves an adult's identity -- or a passport or an expiring digital license (which no one has yet) or a military ID or the like. You also have to bring either your marriage license or proof of legal name change, or a school or government ID, or a combination of other things if you don't have those.

The Hubs and the girls have all renewed since the new licenses came out, so I'm prepared. I have a birth certificate and a passport, but apparently we were never given a copy of our marriage license. About a year or so, I called the town where we got married and had them issue me a copy, so I've got that. I don't have a social security card, I think; I memorized the number when I was 18 and haven't worried about the card since. Which is kind of funny, considering that I've got things and documents of all kind that go back generations. I also have to bring some kind of proof of residence, like a utility bill or a bank statement.

You know, I'd really love to say that this is all bullshit and it's not like terrorists are going to bomb New Jersey, but hey, we are a likely target, I suppose, at least some places are. (Elizabeth Seaport is the biggest seaport on the east coast, I believe.) I happened to catch a moment of the head of Homeland Security on TV last night saying that as far as they're concerned, the New York Metropolitan area includes North Jersey and we're all one location for them. Well, that tells me.

Thank you, boxx, for the picture of your feet! I'll show you mine after tomorrow's pedi!

I tried a free download from a website that sells a program that generates sound/music files to fall asleep to. The freebie was 15 minutes long, but the program lets you make them up to an hour long. I had trouble getting the file onto the iPod for some reason, but I worked around it, and I just took a nap with it, hearing aids and headphones on. All I can tell you is that I fell asleep, which is a good thing. (Even though when the track ended, it automatically played the next track, which was a random song, and it woke me up, but I fell right back to sleep.) So I may give the program a go. K says I can make a file or two for her, too, so I guess that makes it a bit more cost-effective.

Tonight, Chinese food. Tomorrow, Target!


WATCHING GILMORE GIRLS on DVD :: ENTRY #1341

Writing Challenge

[copied from dland]

I'm either going to have to write less often or start making stuff up. Yesterday I chose the first one. I suppose I could make stuff up, but why bother when my real life is so exciting?

[You may snort along with me here.]

I did come up with a major revelation today, which I'm pretty impressed with. There are just lots of people sick around here, some with colds like mine that never really go anywhere, sore throats, itchy eyes and so on. Only yesterday I had to admit that this two-week cold is probably allergies after all. And then I realized why. It's the fucking weather, or rather, the lack thereof.

In an ordinary year, we have a good solid first frost absolutely no later than early November. What the first frost does is kill all the mold blowing around out there in the dead and dying vegetation, freezes it and kills it, so after that, the wind can blow, but nobody's breathing in mold. When was our first frost this year?

I'll let you know.

Here it is, January, and so far, no killing frost. They probably have had one as nearby as the northern edge of New Jersey along the New York state border, which is in the same county I live in, but not here. It must be worse farther south. When I talked to the Colleague on the phone last Sunday, she had almost no voice at all, which is the first place her allergies hit her; she said it started as they drove over the state border into the southern state where her son lives. I know I should start using all the nasal sprays I have, but I just hate them, hate doing that. Anyway, it's my eyes stinging all the time, not just the stuffiness. Oh right, eye drops. Yeah, I don't like doing that, either.

My mission for tomorrow morning is yoga, followed by by normal Saturday errands, and then home. R is coming by briefly in the afternoon. She's starting her new job on Monday! And get this: I just stopped writing for a bit to talk to the Sibs, and it seems that Wonderful Niece has also just gotten a job and started today. She was in court like a real lawyer! All these kids growing up, I just don't know. (Yes I do. It's excellent!)

Just took another short break to call OldFriend for her birthday, and left a message. When her birthday dawns, can mine be far behind? You know, we had always planned to get together on the Sunday between our 50th birthdays, but our birthdays fell on Sundays that year, and we were both caught up elsewhere. I have pledged to her that we will spend our birthdays together four years from now, when we turn 58. Why 58? Because then we will have been friends for 50 years. (My parents had already bought the house across the street from hers, but we didn't move in until March. Even so, I was invited to her 8th birthday party and she was to mine, and I was driven over to play with her a few times before we moved.)

Jeez, I'm not saying much, but it sure is taking me hours to say it here. I must have started typing hours ago, but I'm just going in fits and starts. Better post before I fall asleep.


WATCHING INSIDE THE ACTOR'S STUDIO :: ENTRY #1340

Schizoid, A Little

[copied from dland]

I started writing this entry twice already, once last night and once at school. Here, I'll give you a little bit of them:

Last Night

So. Feet. I was looking at my feet just before. I had socks on, of course, as I generally do, and I couldn't help but notice that my feet -- my toes, actually -- are sort of round, like the shape of sneakers, or clogs. Are everybody's feet like that? 'Cause you know, you kind of grow up thinking that the way you are must be kind of the way everybody is, and how much do you really get to compare? I mean, how often do you have the opportunity to ask people, hey, are your toes pointy, like pointy shoes, or are they round, like clogs? You don't ask. You just assume.

So you're not sorry that I gave that one up. And now:

Today At School

So I'm sitting in the library minding my own business, as it were, and about eight people troop in, one of whom is one of the assistant district administrators, all of them with clipboards. They cruise the library, making remarks to each other and checking things off. None of them speak to the SCM or me until we say hello, and then the administrator says hello and goes back to her clipboard. (She did ask me if my leg was better, since I was on crutches the last time she saw me.) The others are construction/building people. They're checking off their "punchlist", which tells them what things still need to be completed or fixed in the library.

I pointed out the circulation-desk-that-isn't-one and asked if it was on their list. They were not only as uninterested as they could possibly be, they seemed a little irritated that we would presume to point anything out to them. It was made clear to us that they were only interested in the items that were already on their list, a list which they had made themselves. They said that twice.

Okay, who isn't sick of that already?

Now

Nothing as fascinating as feet or work-bitching, but we do have this intermittent smell of natural gas in one corner of the new library, and I came home with a killer headache, with that as the most likely cause. (We have called maintenance on this so many times that they don't even come anymore to check it out. Fortunately, our new secretary formerly worked in the office of the head of building and grounds, and she called him directly. Unfortunately, he didn't show up, either. Curiously, the building does not have gas heat, so we can't figure out what the smell actually is. I digress.) Anyway, I was planning to go to the gym but oy, my aching head, so I ran one little errand to Bed, Bath and Beyond and came right home. I'm counting as my success for the day that 1) I did not buy any make-up, and 2) I did not go to a mall.

I think I slept for about three hours last night, or more accurately, this morning. I am so getting too old for this kind of shit. Part of the problem -- have I mentioned this? -- is that the Hubs is such a restless and noisy sleeper until he's been sleeping for a couple of hours that I just can't fall asleep there with him until he's past that point. That's why I try to fall asleep on the couch when I can. He falls asleep the instant he gets into bed, but I don't -- clearly -- so I can't even go to sleep before he does, because I could still be awake when he comes in. Until I'm deeply asleep, it takes nothing at all to wake me up wide awake, any little distraction or sound or anything will do it. In the morning, his alarm goes off, he goes in and out of the room, gets dressed and all, and I don't hear any of it. Maybe when I retire, I'll sleep every night between 3 and 7 am, and that'll be it for me. Wait, that's what I do now, except I get up at 5:45. So maybe I'll sleep more when I retire, eh? Yes, a better plan.

Rambling. Head. Hurts. Some.

Tired. Want. Pie.


WATCHING THE SIMPSONS :: ENTRY #1339

Back to School

[copied from dland]

Isn't there a movie called that?

Okay, I'm tired of blowing my nose now, can I stop? This cold never got to be too terrible (now I'm a Zicam swab convert), but it's enough already with the congestion and the blowing. I swear, I would have the sinus surgery, but the thought of coming out of anesthesia unable to breathe through my nose scares the crap out of me. K, however, must have that surgery at some point, and since this starts her last year on my health plan, I'm guessing it's coming sooner than later. Maybe she won't be as freaked out as I am by it, I can only hope.

The big news at school today is that they finally put a lock on the inside of the door of the new faculty ladies' room. Hey, it's a big deal to me!

R was here this afternoon (K's working until 8:00) and we went around and did a few errands and then had some nice dinner out. I had an excellent salad with chicken, and have enough left over for lunch tomorrow.

Heavens, I am boring today. Is that good, having a boring day? Better than too exciting a day, eh? I have absolutely nothing of interest to report. If I were you, I wouldn't even read this entry. I'm going to the gym tomorrow after school, though, so there's always the chance that tomorrow's entry will be more ... exciting.


WATCHING RAYMOND :: ENTRY #1338