The 20 lb Coffee Cake

Me: Maybe we should get some coffee cake to go with that breakfast casserole.
Mom: Well, Sara Lee makes a pretty good one.
Me: Sara Lee?! Screw that! Let's get the 20 lb. Coffee Cake (aka Corner Bakery's Cinnamon Creme Cake)!!!
Mom: Oooooooo! I'd almost forgotten about that one!

And so our Easter brunch is born. Mom and I had decided on a breakfast casserole a couple of weeks ago. Since Mom is out of commission, we wanted to make the brunch as stress free as possible. Entertaining is not Mom's favorite thing. Well, she likes having family over but she hates spending the whole time in the kitchen preparing a meal. Who can blame her? I happen to feel the same way. I'd much rather make something ahead of time that just needs to be popped in a hot oven.

I tried to go to the farmer's market this morning for some fruit for our brunch but my plan was foiled when I was greeted by a rather long line of cars snaking around the block to get into the parking lot. I normally hit the farmer's market at noon. I like that time because most of the crowds have cleared out and the vendors are getting eager to dump goods. They're in a much better mood to make a deal. Dad dropped by around noon but was also greeted my the super long line of cars. Guess everyone had the same idea for Easter. The difference is that Dad has excellent parking karma. He has the ability to just pull up anywhere and find great parking and today was no different. He came home with some absolutely beautiful strawberries and blueberries. Yea!
Earlier this morning I headed for Corner Bakery to pick up the 20 lb coffee cake. Mom and I call it this because it is ludicrously heavy and dense. Yum! Although I found great parking at the bakery the coffee cakes were sold out. the horror, the horror. I was told more cakes would be available later in the afternoon. They took my name and number and told me to come back at 4:00. I came back at 4:00 on the nose and got anxious when the staff didn't seem to know what I was talking about. They looked a little nervous, then I noticed an equally freaked out woman standing near by. She too had been told to come back at 4:00 for a cake. Eventually the Manager came out and told us the cakes were literally just coming out of the oven. He was therefore unable to wrap them as usual. He had them placed in boxes for us instead. He then commented "Man, my Baker really went to town for you." I didn't know what he meant. He went on to say "Well, these are supposed to weigh 4.6 lbs but this one feels closer to 6 lbs. Here... feel..." He then handed me the hot cake in the box. "Nice!" I said. He then looked me in the eye and and held his look a beat longer than normal. My first thought was 'Maybe he's special needs.' Then I thought 'My God, is he flirting with me?'. I then thought 'For Christ's sake run! The last thing you need is to fall madly in love with a man with 24 hour access to the 20 lb Coffee Cake.'

Bionic Grandma

Mom continues to do very well. The kids (my niece and nephew) came over after school for their weekly babysitting afternoon. Dad picked them up and when they burst through the door they ran towards Mom. I thought it was so sweet that they were so excited to see her. Once they had said their hellos and were convinced that she was fine they asked to see her "leg machine". Turns out they were most excited to see THE LEGASUS (as seen above). The Legasus is the contraption Mom has to put in her leg in for 2 hours a day. It exercises her leg at regular intervals and measures the degree/angle of the bend of her knee. She is up to a 95 degree angle. Not bad for only a week after surgery. My brother claimed he was going to tell the kids that Grandma had to wear The Legasus permanently, just to mess with them, but I don't think he did. (We tend to regularly mess with kids in our family.) Anyway, the kids ran to visit The Legasus but seemed disappointed that Mom couldn't just jump into it for their entertainment. They've started calling Mom "The Bionic Grandma". It's sort of true. She's got two titanium knees after all. There are tracks from Mom's walker on the carpet throughout the house these days. I call them Gayle's Trails. The cleaning ladies came yesterday so Mom had to cut a whole new set of Gayle's Trails. When she opened the door to let them in she said I got a new knee! Want to see?" She then pulled up the leg of her sweats and showed it off. They looked on in ESL horror. Some things just don't need much translation.

We're all very happy with Mom's progress. You should see her incision. It's amazing. Her Doctor did a great job and I don't think she'll have much of a scar to boast about. She says it looks like a ham. Gross! I think it looks pretty dang good considering what went on in there just a week ago. One of these days I'll see if I can pin her down and get a picture for you. Ewwwww!

What? Am I MADE of time?!

*sigh*

I resisted, I really did. Unfortunately, I got myself hooked on HBO's In Treatment. I had no intention of watching that show because it's entirely too time consuming. The show airs each week night. What kind of maniac asks viewers to commit to a half hour every night? Well, I was just going to cross my arms, sit back and refuse. That was my plan, of course, until I saw an exceptionally kick-ass episode that sucked me right in. Naturally I was forced to fire up my HBO On Demand to go back and watch the first 6 weeks. It's really good and just keeps getting better. I love it!

I'm now almost caught up on In Treatment and what happens? My brother tells me I simply MUST watch John Adams. Again, I had no intention of getting sucked up into another show, but I was just 35 minutes in when I realized I was sold. Well, really, I was sold at "Starring Paul Giamatti and Laura Linney" but I resisted. Damn you HBO!!! That John Adams is good stuff, people. The opening scene of John Adams wearily riding towards his home, after what you're guessing has been one helluva night, is just so good and unlike anything I've seen before. I'm not sure why that is, except, it seems most filmmakers are so damn precious with the founding fathers. Not HBO! They seem to be doing a fair job of portraying the colonialists as a sometimes barbaric crew and our founding fathers as not quite as certain as we like to recall them. It's a refreshing POV that I'm really enjoying.

When it comes to history, I love a new perspective. When I visited the Tower of London I noticed a military museum. I wanted to see an honest to goodness red coat so I dragged my friend over to the building. We saw a red coat (cool!), so I was satisfied, but we also got a fun new take on the Revolutionary War. First of all, the British don't call it a Revolution. They call it the American War of Independence which totally takes the punch out of the whole thing. My favorite fun fact was learning that the Brits don't really give us credit for winning the war by our wits, or bravery or fighting ability. They just sort of shrug about it and claim that they weren't really into it and were drunk and lazy and who wanted those stupid colonies anyway? If nothing else, it reminded me, once again, that history may be told about a million different ways. It's all in the POV. I'm pretty much always a skeptic when learning about history. I never believe anyone entirely. Well, except Doris Kearns Goodwin and David McCullough. (I know, I know... I don't care! I like them so pipe down. I don't wanna hear it.)

The only real bummer about all of this is adding more programming to an already packed Tivo To Do list. Another show is gearing up for a season kick off in just a couple of weeks. Yes, I've made a commitment to The Tudors. I've been tolerating The Tudors because I love those crazy royals but I'm still annoyed with the casting of Jonathan Rhys Meyers as Henry VIII. Every time I look at him I see a spoiled little boy dressing up as a king and it bugs the hell outta me. I saw Henry's armor and he was WAY bigger than Pee Wee Meyers. (Man that trip to The Tower really messed with my head, huh?) The rest of the group is perfectly cast, especially Katherine of Aragon. Now that casting was nicely done. Of course, some may argue that I should be equally annoyed by the casting of Paul Giamatti as John Adams but I'm not. Mr. Giamatti is a far superior actor whose ego isn't cranked to ten throughout his performance. I can accept him as Mr. Adams. Meyers as Henry? Not so much.

As you can imagine my poor Tivo is pretty much on fire these days. It's swinging from one time period to another and I'm freaking out. I haven't even had a chance to watch His Girl Friday, All About Eve or CBS This Morning yet. Where will I find the time to watch it all? Oh well, it's a nice problem to have, for a change of pace.

So snip it, snip it good

Yesterday, while listening to NPR, I learned that March is now being marketed as the perfect time for a vasectomy. Guess why...really...guess. It's because of basketball. Men have finally figured out that they can take a couple of days off work, to recuperate from the procedure, and watch all of those basketball games that are played during their pesky work week. I have to admit that I admire the ingenuity. God knows if there were a Jane Austen Madness or an annual Dexter marathon, I'd volunteer for an incredibly simple procedure with a recuperation that depends entirely upon sitting still for a couple of days with a bag of frozen peas in my lap.

I like it. You go boys!

Update

For those interested, Mom is doing great. In fact, she's doing better than expected. She walking around with her walker and even walked up steps today. She gets home tomorrow and we all can't wait. I'm so happy this surgery is behind her. All in all it's been a good experience. Her doctor is excellent and meticulous. One of the nurses said "If he hadn't been a surgeon, he would have been a great tailor." He made Mom's incision look amazing. The nurses have all been great too. Mom and I were talking today about how nursing seems to be the one vocation that is always in demand. Even when I got out of college, and no jobs were available, the classified were full of ads for nurses. I'm guessing it's the same these days. It got me thinking that maybe I should have given nursing a try.

Me: Maybe I should have been a nurse.
Mom: You'd have been a good nurse.
Me: I would have been a bad-ass nurse.
Mom: You would have been a bad-ass mortician.

I heart The Daily Show

Check out this clip from last night's Daily Show. It makes the same point of my post but with that pitch perfect wit that we all love. (... and, yes, that's Samantha's real husband).

My Mom, the Terminator

Mom had knee replacement surgery today. I didn't sleep well and was up early this morning so I wished her well and tried to get more sleep until I could see her post-op. There were, apparently, a rash of emergency patients this morning so she had to wait about 3 hours for a bed. The good news is that she got a disco room in the new wing that has a nice view and is quiet.

Dad and I were in the waiting room when they wheeled her off the elevator. I knew it was mom when I saw her hand. Isn't that weird? I'd know my parents hands anywhere. I was so happy to see her not only looking well but joking with the nurses. Her throat was a little dry and her voice a tad raspy but I thought I heard her asking where her In-n-Out burger was. As they wheeled her into her room I tried to stay out of the way while checking out the numerous tubes coming out of her. And what was with that ice chest? Did they save the old knee for fun?

One of the nurses told Mom she looked "so beautiful and right after surgery!". It's true, I have a pretty Mom and you'd never know her age. She is a Texas beauty who takes her hair and makeup very seriously. The most upsetting aspect of the surgery was the disturbing news that she wouldn't be allowed to wear makeup into surgery. *gasp!* Well, she managed to sneak some mascara and lipstick on and it was still there when we saw her hours later. Another nurse even said "I can't believe you still have lipstick on!" Well if anyone can get away with it, its Mom. After the nurses got her situated and left, I asked if she wanted us to leave ice chips or magazines on the bed table for her. She just asked "Are those shelves on my bed table?" Yes. "Then I want my hair and makeup stuff on the shelves, please." I dug through her overnight bag for the smaller bags that held her curlers, brushes, makeup and magnifying mirror as Dad fed her ice chips. Once I showed her where everything was she was happy.

Her knee is currently strapped to this big contraption that has it moving/bending constantly. It's crazy! Her knee is already moving. She is expected to stand on it tonight and walk on it tomorrow. *shudder* Thank God for morphine. She was not in pain when we saw her but she was very concerned about keeping the morphine clicker in her hand. I was worried she might fall asleep and drop it, so the nurse wrapped it around the bed's arm rest so she could get her hands on it easily. A couple of times Mom looked at me, winked and clicked her morphine drip. Even post-op she makes me laugh. I later learned that the ice chest held, well, ice. It was attached to another crazy contraption that worked as an ice pack on her new knee to control swelling. The other crazy IV stand was circulating her own blood back into her body. I guess they drained a bunch of blood from her, for the surgery, then returned it in recovery. It's all so much better than her last knee replacement.

The doctor told my Dad that her knee had been in very bad shape but the new one slipped right in with no complications. He was very pleased with the surgery. The whole thing took less than 2 hours and we saw that he had 2 more surgeries lined up right after Mom. I can't imagine that being my day. Get up at 6:00am to do 3-4 joint replacements, maybe do some rounds, then go home for dinner. Man, how does that work? Shandon probably knows about it from her Dad. Orthopedic specialists amaze me.

My cell phone has been ringing off the hook all day from well wishers. It's been nice. Right after Mom was out of surgery, Dad called me (I was still drying my hair, that's how off-guard I was). He then called my brother and I called the people on Mom's list of people who had asked for updates. I got to speak with her cousin who is really more like her brother. He is as funny as Mom and it was great to speak with him. I told him Mom had screamed the other night when she looked up pictures of what her surgery would look like. I heard her scream and called down the hall with "You better not be online looking at knee pictures!!" I couldn't look at them. Her cousin had surgery to muscles in his face and admitted the curiosity got to him right before his surgery and he also looked up pictures. I believe his surgery was experimental and done in a teaching hospital. He told me he agreed to have it recorded, since it might be helpful for interns, but that he now lived in constant fear that one day he'd be channel flipping and find video of his face turned inside out on some science show. He said he'd seen a knee replacement surgery on tv once and that they "just fold that leg back on top of you." Ewwww! I said "Should I check Mom's shins for lipstick marks?" We cracked ourselves up. He then clarified that when the old knee has been removed, they actually flop the leg AT THE KNEE up and rest it on your thigh. Ok, seriously... that's disgusting. He said it was so they could get a "straight shot" with the drill. *Oh God, I may barf* I was just glad I hadn't heard that before her surgery. SO GROSS!!!

Anyway, if you're still reading this, and not hurling into a waste basket, that's the story of Mom's knee replacement so far. I'll be seeing her again tonight but I have a feeling she'll be sleeping. The nurses told her tomorrow was a big day and recommended resting up. I asked if they made the hip and knee replacement patients race down the hall and if we could bet on them. There's just nothing like making a nurse laugh. I don't think they get to chuckle very often. One of the coordinators remembered Mom but we're not sure from when. Mom's had a couple of minor surgeries in the past decade but I guess she made an impression. She always does.

Thanks to my buddies for sending positive vibes our way. I'll be sure to keep you all up to date on Mom's progress. Oh, and for those with weak stomachs, I don't think future posts will be as disturbing as this one. However, for those curious, here is a fun virtual knee replacement site. I haven't the nerve to go through it, but if you're interested... well, let me know how it goes.

How many times have we seen THAT look before?

So, yet another politician has been caught cheating on his wife. Naturally the poor woman is expected to "stand by her man" when you know she wants to tell him off (and probably has). Can somebody please tell my why the wife (and lets be clear... it's always the wife) has to stand next to her husband during these oh so apologetic press conferences? I understand that it somehow makes the cheating man look more sympathetic if his wife appears to have forgiven him (even though it's mere hours after the big reveal). Just once, once, I'd like to see the wife stand up there and bitch slap her husband in front of the world. Or, better yet, walk out, hand in hand with the asshole, then stop short of the podium and wave him up as if to say "There you go hot shot. You got us into this mess, go get us out." Just once I'd like to see that happen. That would be beautiful. Instead, the politician's handlers drug the wife up and guilt her into wearily standing next to her husband with that familiar, miserable expression on her face. It's all so ridiculous. I tell ya, one day some politician is going to cheat on the wrong woman and she's going to decide to be uncooperative and publicly flip out on the turd. I can't wait!

In a nut shell

***Update***

I got home and switched my laptop and Tivo to another available wireless network. It's much slower than mine was but it will have to do until I figure something else out. What a relief!

***We now return to our regular blog***

New York was great (as always) but it was an incredibly hectic week. I'm so happy to be home. I usually manage to get more sleep in NYC but, this time, I was up past midnight each night and only found blogging time once. I had to get up at 5:30 am this morning to grab a quick breakfast and meet a friend for a 7:00 cab to get to the airport. I usually take a later flight but it dumps me in the middle of LA's Friday afternoon traffic. Also, the later flight is always packed. I finally realized that if I could drag my booty out of bed early, I could catch an earlier fight that is never full and therefore has many empty middle seats. When you're flying coach, it's really all about acquiring a an aisle seat with nobody seated next to you. I got lucky both coming and going this week and didn't have a middle seat passenger to deal with. Yea!! Ya know, it's the little things that really make me happy.

The low point of my week was yelling at the CFO of a company I work with. I caught him lying to me and I sort of lost it. I rarely freak out on people, but about every 4-5 years I find myself yelling at somebody. Because it's a rarity it's usually pretty effective. This freak-out happened on my cell phone in the mezzanine lounge of our hotel. We had just wrapped up our last meeting of the week and were sitting in the lounge having a round of well deserved drinks. I excused myself to check in on this CFO. I sat nearby but out of ear shot. I was pretty firm right away but things escalated rapidly and I started raising my voice. The whole issue is that I'd given this guy a deadline and he ignored it because he got an extension two years ago and, I suspect, he assumed he could just get another extension. I started shouting for a variety of reasons and that's when I scared my happy-go-lucky co-workers. I couldn't see them but I later heard they were all craning their necks in my direction to hear what the fuss was all about. None of them had ever heard me angry and all were surprised. At one point this CFO had the nerve to say "Hey, I'm supposed to be on the five o'clock train but...". That's when I stood up and shouted "Yeah and I'm supposed to be relaxing, with a drink, getting ready for a night of theater, so don't talk to me about your 5:00 train!!!" The lounge was loud, so it was difficult to hear, but it probably worked to my advantage. I just kept talking/yelling because I couldn't hear much of what they were saying on speakerphone. Ordinarily I'd feel bad about a freak-out, but I was in the right and this guy had deliberately mislead me and had been giving me the brush-off for several weeks. I don't think he'll be ignoring me anymore. This morning I got a message from the CFO's sales guy, a good guy who I normally get along with. He had been in on the angry call and left a message this morning saying "I'm just calling to see if you've calmed down." It pissed me off all over again. I really don't think he would have dared left that message for a 41 year-old man but he felt fine about leaving it for my 41-year-old ass. I thought it was a sexist, condescending thing to say and I was in no mood for it. Unfortunately, if you're a woman with a spine you're a a bitch and a pain in the ass. Men are allowed to have fits all day long and nobody bats an eye. I freak out once in a four year work relationship, because somebody lied to me, and I'm an hysterical female who needs to "calm down". Whatever. This female manages that man's rather lucrative contract so you'd think he'd be more respectful.

On the other hand, the highlight of the week was seeing Gypsy. OMG!!! Patti Lupone tore the doors off the place. (Here's a little taste. Believe it or not, she was even better last night. Also, she now does this hilarious cocky strut thing, in character, after this number, and the gays are practically flying through the air going ape-shit. Such fun!!!) I can't wait to get my hands on the cast recording. I've no idea when it's due to release but I am so there when it does. The staging was amazing and there were some effects that I still can't quite get my head around. At one point Baby June and her boys are dancing in profile in a line. A strobe light starts flickering (and all I can think is I hope nobody has a seizure) and about 30 seconds later you realize June and the boys are growing before your eyes. I don't mean the young actress stepped away and the older actress stepped in, it was a gradual growth of June and the boys and I have no idea how they pulled it off. I'm thinking it was some sort of trick with perspective but it was impressive. It took my brain a moment to even see the gradual growth. The whole audience gasped as they started to realize what was happening. It was so cool! And when Patti sang "Mama's Turn" I thought the place would explode. She paced herself so well throughout the show and I realized just what a damn demanding role it really is. The woman is an athlete I tell ya. I don't know how somebody can tear their guts out 8 times a week but she's doing it. The actress playing Gypsy was also great. As the role requires, she goes from wall flower/side kick to an amazingly confidant woman and really pulled it off. I loved her. The orchestra was one of the best I've heard. They were set in the background behind a couple of scrims. The musicians would showed up from time to time in the background. They were great. We even got good scoop on the show's dirt from a waiter at the restaurant before the show. The restaurants around Broadway always ask if you're going to a show so they can get you out the door in time. We told the waiter what we were seeing and he lit up. He told us a friend of his had seen it the night before and loved it. Even the NY Times raved! He said that Patti was supposed to have starred in the revival a few years ago but the writer (Laurents, not Sondheim) was furious with her for walking out on one of his projects. She was starring in one of his new shows but it was terrible, and not being improved, so Patti left. The writer swore he'd never work with her again and cast Bernadette Peters in the role of Mama, a role Patti had been promised. This is when the waiter leaned in and said "God love her, but Bernadette just couldn't carry that role." He went on to say that the writer was pretty much on his deathbed when his partner said "come on, let Patti play Mama, she was born to play that role". The writer finally agreed to this, shortly before his death, and that's how this revival got it's start. Now, I have no idea if any of this is true, but I love it! Nobody can throw down a great backstage fight like Broadway.

OH! And one of my favorite little moments happened last night when I stepped on to the hotel elevator after the show. A very cute guy was standing in the elevator when the doors opened. I stepped on and, because he was closer to the buttons, he asked what floor I was on. I nonchalantly said "Oh, penthouse please." He nodded and whispered "All-riiiiiiiiiiiight." I loved it. It was by far best thing about being on that floor.

SO there is my trip. I wish I'd had more time to blog because it's so much more fun. I did manage to snap this quick pic for y'all after the show. Here is Times Square around 11:00 pm last night:


Here is one half of my super-cute terrace:


And here is a shot of my cute room:

(Sorry it's sideways. It's not letting me save the rotation but you can still see how cute it is.)

Oh, and can somebody please tell me why I'm always in New York when stuff blows up? Remember the last time? It's starting to make me look very suspicious.

I'll take Manhattan

I've been wanting to post these past few days but I've been ridiculously busy. I'm in Manhattan for work and my schedule was assigned to me. We travel in a pack and descend upon poor unsuspecting partners for several hours at a time. Each day I'm in meetings from about 9:00 am to 4:30 - 5:00, then we get together for work dinners... that's when the nights get long. Last night was my only chance to catch up on work so I chose to stay in to work online. I got in around 6:30 pm and worked online until 11:30pm. I was nodding off at my computer when I finally decided to call it quits. This morning I had to get up at 6:30 am and got back to my room at 8:30 pm. I'm very tired. Don't get me wrong, for the most part, I like business travel. I have a very social job that requires a lot of meetings on both a business and creative level. It can even be fun.

Tonight I ate at Koi. I've been to the LA Koi, and liked it, but it's a hot spot for young Hollywood and the paparazzi so it's annoying. The NY Koi was just as tasty but completely sans "scene". Thank God! As usual, when eating sushi, others order for me. A yummy assortment of food arrives and I dig in without knowing the name of anything much less what it is. Tonight's dinner was no different but just as yummy. We decided the chef at Koi must sprinkle a little crack over the dishes. They're all amazing. If you ever have the chance to dine at Koi, I highly recommend the Baked Crab Roll. Deee-lightful. Not so delightful was the cab driver who dropped us off. We knew Koi was next to Bryant Park, and the cabbie agreed, but he may have thought we said "toy" not "Koi" because he dropped us on the far corner of Bryant Park very close to something that resembled a sex shop. Hmm.

As for my accommodations, I'm in a small boutique hotel this time. One of our VPs used to be based in LA but spent two weeks a month in NY. We are all staying in the hotel that used to be her home away from home. When I checked in, there where about 10 co-workers mingling behind me just getting back from dinner. I leaned over the front desk and whispered "Can I get a quiet room away from all of these maniacs?" while sticking my thumb over my shoulder. The woman at the desk brightly said "Oh, you're on the penthouse level." Wha?! Me?! Now, before anyone gets too excited, I like my room but it's not a penthouse. I assume there is a penthouse on this floor but I'm not in it. My room is small but an average size for NYC. I do, however, have an adorable terrace. Now that's something I've never had in New York. I love it! Too bad it's 40 degrees outside whenever I'm at "home". The service here has been amazing. I'm not sure if it's because they think I'm a big shot or if that's how they treat everyone. As I come and go the doorman says "Have a good day Ms. Lucy's last name" when I come back, it's "Welcome back Ms. Lucy's last name". It's awesome! I've made friends with Gio, the IT guy, and Rebecca, the nice lady at the front desk.

When I first heard I'd be staying here, I was slightly annoyed to learn that they didn't offer room service for breakfast (something I'd NEVER pay for on my own, by the way). I have certain habits when I travel, some are specific to Manhattan. In New York, I LOVE to order breakfast in my room and read the NY Times with the Today Show on. I like to end the day in bed reading The Daily News. It's just so dreamy.

The initial sadness about "No Room Service" in the mornings quickly vanished. We've all been meeting downstairs in the lounge for breakfast and it's been a nice way to start each day. The room rate is good here, by Manhattan standards, so I think I'll be back. Best of all, is the location. This cute little hotel is within 4 blocks of all of our meetings. I love that! It's also very close to Macy's Harald Square. Of course, that can also be trouble. Umm, have I mentioned that I have a problem with that particular Macy's? It's the one place I tend to drop way more money than I should. Today, I ran in and bought a necklace and earrings to go with the outfit I had on. This is something I would NEVER do at home but somehow being in NY it makes perfect sense to accessorize on your way to a meeting. Whatever. I also tend to lust after shoes and bags when I'm in New York. I saw a fantastic bag today, and it still haunts me, but it was $400 and I couldn't justify buying it. I loved that bag and that kind of love doesn't happen for me very often but I can live without it... for now.

Of course, it's not all fun and games. There is work to be done but that's too boring to mention here. There are the occasional New York freaks you hear about. On my last trip, I was standing on a corner trying to hail a cab when a co-worker grabbed my crooked elbow and yanked me towards her. She quickly shook her head and nodded towards the man next to me and whispered "He's touching himself. Step away!" Ewwww! My stepping away from him didn't seem to slow him down one bit. He walked across 5th Avenue and kept right on with the business at hand (pun intended). Gross! Most people are very nice and even helpful. Sadly I can't be one of them. Last night a nice Parisian woman asked how to get to Broadway and I couldn't help her. I could only mumble something about it slicing through the island and that no matter what you'd run into it eventually.

***Just in***
My beloved Apple Airport (my wireless router) is down. It had to be disconnected which means no more wireless access for me and my laptop and *gasp* my Tivo. What will I do?!?!?!? Damn! I hate technical difficulties. Blog posts may be a rarity for a while folks. Wish me luck.

Spoiler Alert (apparently)

I saw the long awaited The Other Boleyn Girl this afternoon and I wish I hadn't.

I read, and really enjoyed, the book. I knew it took great liberties with the facts but it was a good time so I was willing to overlook the flaws. The movie takes even more liberties than the book and I'm not to willing to overlook it. To begin with, the script is atrocious. I understand the urge to explain history to the unwashed masses in plain/obvious language but, for God's sake, it's not THAT complicated. It was English History 101 at it's soap opera worst. It was so far from accurate it was barely recognizable. I just sat shaking my head thinking "These people think this is what happened". The film makers did manage to get the sets and costumes (mostly) right. At least they had the balls to dress everyone in period costume. It's a terribly unflattering style that most Directors are too chicken to stick to. The corsets are chest crushers and, I don't care how cute you think you are, nobody looks good in the dreaded gable hood of the time. Nevertheless, they chose to go for it and I thank them for that at least. I don't think there were quite that many foiled prints in Henry's time but the man did have a damn fine tailor and it's reflected in the film.

As if the script and terribly jumbled timeline weren't annoying enough there was the audience to contend with. Is it too much to ask that an audience watching a film called The Other Boleyn Girl might see a beheading and the birth of a fairly famous red headed Queen coming? Apparently it is because, I swear, there were gasps when the crowd realized Anne really was going to lose her head. (Oh, I'm sorry, am I giving too much away? Then get off my blog!!) They really seemed to think Anne would miraculously be spared at the last minute. I guess they had never heard of Henry VIII. Even more bizarre were the gasps and mutterings when, at the end of the film, a cute little red headed girl skipping through a field was reveled to be *gasp* the future Queen of England. Mercy! In perhaps the most ludicrous scene, Mary Boleyn barges into the castle, grabs baby Elizabeth and storms out of the castle. Yeah, I'm sure it was a snap to just walk into The Tower of London, right after the King has had your sister beheaded, and walk off with an heir to the throne. (I'm suddenly not feeling so sorry for those damn writers.) Oh, and some jackass in the audience applauded when Katherine of Aragon made a big uppity speech to the King in court. Yeah, 'cause that happened all the time. I think the clapper thought she was acting as some sort of feminist but I'm taking it upon myself to kick her out of the club for being so stupid. Let's be clear people, nobody lipped off to Henry. Woman are telling off men at every turn in this film and we know that that simply wasn't an option in that time... especially to the King of England.

Mom thinks I'm being a snob. I just can't imagine how you get through this life without knowing that a woman named Anne Boleyn gave birth to Queen Elizabeth and was later beheaded. I was under the impression that it was a fairly well documented part of English history.

I don't know why I'm always so surprised to learn how ignorant the average American is. I should know better by now. The primary reason I go to Laemmle theaters is because the demographic is so much more educated and civilized. I saw TOBG with the masses and that's just never good for me. I always walk out of mass theaters despising humanity. Ok, that's all very snobby, but you know it's true. I still cringe when I think of the time I saw The Pianist. One scene was particularly grisly but anyone with half a brain could see the horror coming from about a mile away. The Nazis were being really mean to some Jews (this too was apparently news to the audience) and when the inevitable horror played out, the woman behind me gasped. As if she expected the Nazis to suddenly have a heart and take the old man in the wheel chair out for a stroll in the park. It made the scene that much worse that not only those terrible things happened but that so many of us have already forgotten about them.

I guess I'll only allow myself to see foreign and independent films from now on. I usually wait until a mass film has been out for about a month before I bother seeing it. The hope is that in this way the crowds have thinned out. I'll have to stick to DVDs and cable for those films from now on. I guess I was too eager this time around. I had such high hopes for this movie. I should have known.

Don't go into the light!

Here are a few words you NEVER want to see on your work schedule: MANDATORY - Competition Law Program, 2:00 - 4:00 (after lunch on a Friday). Ugh!

Everyone had to go to this 2 hour ordeal and listen to some of ( as I affectionately call them) "the biggest, meanest lawyers money can buy". My boss and I were in a meeting right before this meeting so we showed up 5 minutes late. The only free seats were in the front row. Bummer. Not only would I have to really stay awake, I'd actually have to appear engaged. I had a good lunch so I was reasonably alert. Almost immediately I began leaning over to my boss and whispering "You better get a lawyer for that project." She started to get sort of rattled within an hour. It was mean but helped keep me awake. I also entertained myself by hearing Ethel Merman in my head singing "Everything's Coming Up Roses" (because of next week).

"Dry" does not begin to describe the pace and subject matter of this meeting. It...was...torturous. You know you're in trouble when you walk in and, up on a screen, even the company logo is in black and white. I can't remember the last time I sat through a black and white Powerpoint presentation. I didn't even know you could do that! At one point, I actually thought 'this is as close to death as I ever want to get'. Then I thought 'Don't go into the light! Don't go into the light!'. Then I thought 'If a gunman walked into this room and started shooting, nobody would mind.' It was THAT BAD.

I later heard how other people got through it. One woman sat in the back and plucked her eyebrows. She later claimed that if the speaker hadn't stopped she would "have walked out of there looking like a real chola". A designer sketched a remarkably detailed drawing of the audio/video console at the front of the room. I mean this thing was a work of art. Somebody else claimed to have been "crushing hard" on the 60ish year old speaker because he was so smart. There were reports of heads dropping from sleep, quick desperate glances as people realized they may have been doing something illegal and subtle, quality time was had with Blackberries all while I sat up front looking completely into it.

About 1% of my job is spent in training on how not to get sued or, more importantly, how not to get my company sued. This wouldn't be so bad but the deadlines for special training comes about twice a year. At those time I have to spend anywhere from 4 - 10 hours in online training. It feels like a ton of time. This week we had to finish up more training. They use the word "compliance" so as I walked through the office this week there were notes on cubicles pleading "Quiet please, I'm becoming compliant". The sexual harassment training has long been my favorite because it features a highly improbable, and therefore amusing, scenario with really bad actors saying ludicrous things to each other. This training season brought a new favorite theme: workplace violence. How exciting! It does not yet have an accompanying video but I'm sure somebody is working on one and I can't wait! It asks things like "What should you do if a co-worker shows you a gun?" Umm, burst into tears?

Today, in yet another meeting, I asked a male co-worker if he was yet "complied". I told him how fond I was of the sexual harassment training but it had been eclipsed buy the arrival of workplace violence. He said he would like to agree except:

"Have you noticed that the woman in the sexual harassment video has erect nipples?"
Lucy: Shut up!
Co-worker: I SWEAR!
Lucy: Shut UP!
CW: I'm just saying it keeps my attention.
Lucy: You can't say that to me!
CW: (coquettishly placing two fingers to his pursed lips) Oops!
Lucy: Well,what do the ladies get?
CW: Maybe you just need to be paying more attention.

Dammit. Now I'll have to wait another year to check for myself.

Our lawyers would have simultaneous heart attacks if they knew how we all spoke to each other.

Here she is, boys!

*doing the pee pee dance*

Guess who's going to see Patti Lupone in Gypsy next week?! ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I'm SO excited. I'll be in NYC next week for work and a group of us wanted to get together for dinner and a show. Trouble is, how do you decide when you only have one free night? We heard In the Heights was pretty good. Maybe Young Frankenstein isn't really all that bad, even though we'd all heard it stunk. How about Legally Blond? That's supposed to be a fun show. Yeah, but the star loves herself too much. Hmm... Eventually I mentioned I'd LUUUUUUUUUV to see Patti in Gypsy but that it would probably be impossible to get tix for the preview. Then a friend came back and said that she could not only get Gypsy tix, but that she could get them for half price. Of course, half of $250 ticket is still steep but, COME ON, Patti Lupone as Mama!? I am so there.

One co-worker, and a perfectly likeable guy, couldn't decide if he wanted to join us. He couldn't quite place Gypsy. *sigh* What?

Lucy: You, know GYPSY... Gypsy Rose Lee...stripper...Everything's Coming up Roses...Ethel Merman?!
Co-worker: Ethel Merman was a stripper?
Lucy: Dude, you're killing me.

Later, someone said "She wasn't a stripper." Oh, excuse me... burlesque dancer. Whatever! It's all about Mama anyway.

It's official

I heart Javier Bardem. I heart him so much that I may just hop a flight to Spain and grab one just like him. *sigh* Maybe I should just ditch the whole "I'm saving for my condo down payment", quit my job and move to Europe. They grow them so much better in Spain and Italy. Who needs a condo anyway?

New on the Blog Roll

I've updated my Blog Roll. I've listed some blogs I've been test driving for a few weeks and really like. Many are mostly pretty and foreign. Some are great for crafty inspiration while others just make me laugh.

One of the most fascinating is The Sartorialist. It features pictures of incredibly chic people on the streets of France. It almost makes me afraid to go to France. I could never be that fashionable!

Oh, and check out The Dares. It's a group of rather of irreverent scrappers (aka anti-scrappers). They seem to have taken a slight hiatus because one of them won a scrapping award from some big scrap magazine. It was later discovered that she didn't take the pictures featured on the winning entry *gasp* and the whole scrapping world went bonkers. I mean these women went completely feral on the winner. I read about the scandal here and was so annoyed I actually wrote the poor woman/victim to offer my support. I mean come on! With all that's happening in the world it seems there must be something more important to revolt against. Unbelievable!

Take a look at the new blogs listed and let me know what you think.

I hear ya loud and clear!

I hit the wall around noon today. Several annoying things happened in a row that all made me feel taken advantage of. On top of this, my blood sugar was sinking fast and that makes me damn cranky. A few unfortunate souls crossed my path in those few minutes. I later apologized for being a psycho Betty. Soon after those run-ins, I grabbed my keys and took off for lunch, before there was a homicide. I just had to get out of the building. On top of all this, I was still fuming from my morning commute. I recently had my car serviced and asked that my wind shield wipers be replaced. This morning was the first time I needed wipers since their installation. I heard a scratching noise but figured it was a twig or random oak leaf stuck under the rubber blade (beacuse that happens all the time). Once at work I got out to move the offending twig and realized the scratchy noise was in fact being caused by the metal clasp meant to hold the rubber blade. The wipers had not been installed properly and were SCRATCHING A GROOVE into my windshield. What the... ?! Man, was I mad!

As busy as I was at work, I realized I'd have to leave early to get to the auto repair shop before they closed tonight (5:30 pm) so they could fix it. That meant leaving work at 4:45. Way too early considering my current work load. The good news was that traffic was a dream at 4:45. I was whizzing along the 210 for most of my drive when suddenly traffic slammed to a halt. Typical!! I was instantly annoyed until I realized why everyone was braking. They were all trying to get a good look at this magnificent site:


Yup, a brilliant double rainbow. I immediately forgave all drivers for slowing down. It sort of restored my faith in humanity to know that cynical LA drivers are occasionally prone to stop and stare at a rainbow.

I got my wipers replaced (and it looks like I'll really be needing them this week). Then made my way home. On the way, I saw this:


It was like having karma police step in and say "listen little lady, in case you didn't get our rather obvious rainbow hint, here's another sight to help you calm the hell down." I also happened to be listening to this song followed by this one. It's just really hard to be crabby when your drive home includes beautiful rainbows, deer grazing on your neighbor's lawn and groovy music on the radio.

It's safe to say, I got the karmic hint. I'm feeling much better and I promise to lighten up in the, inevitably busy, weeks to come.

Comfort and Joy

Well, I'm finally down to one pill a day and I'm feeling MUCH better. Most folks at work refuse to see a doctor about this flu. Meanwhile, I smugly sit, breathing easy and feelin' fine. he best part is that I've found that a nice side effect of the antibiotics, rest and lots of water is that my skin looks great!

The only trouble now is that I'm sort of addicted to lounging in bed. I've spent so many days in bed, nursing my flu, that I've come to like it. Well, I like it now that I'm feeling better. Ever since my first 'bout with this bug I've pretty much rushed home from work just so I could throw on my pjs, wash my face and have a quick dinner. I then spend the evening on the phone, online, watching bad tv (or sometimes good PBS) and flipping through pretty magazines. I can tell you life is pretty good with a stack of pretty mags, a Tivo remote and some cough syrup with Codeine. *heaven* I'm seriously considering getting something like this to additionally feed my addiction.

The only hiccup comes when disturbing news sneaks across the tv screen. A few weeks back Tony insisted I watch Life After People. It was well done and certainly interesting but it completely freaked me out. When I told Tony about my reaction he just couldn't understand my problem. I told him it was spooky and that I'd be sticking to Jane Austen and TCM from now on.

Yesterday, my brother told us my poor nephew wandered into his office with tears streaming down his sweet cheeks. He had been in the next room watching Life After People and apparently had the same reaction I'd had. He just said "Dad, that show is freaking me out. I think I need to watch Garfield or something to take my mind off it." Awww, poor kid. While I was sad to hear he'd been so upset, it was somehow comforting to learn I wasn't the only one freaked out by that damn show. I'm sorry, I enjoy NYC and I don't need to see it deserted but for the wild pack of wolves roaming the streets. *shudder*

More than anything, I'm proud that my nephew knows exactly how to shake off the demons of the day. My poison may be Jane Austen and PBS while his is Garfield and Star Wars. He already understands the value of a good comfort film and I'm glad to know that knowledge is being passed down to the next generation. I like those kind of smarts in a kid.

Still wired

Well, I was wired and wide awake until 5:00 am when I finally fell asleep. I had to get up at 6:45 am to get ready for my annual OB appt. I tried to call ahead, to ask if my mega drugs might interfere with any test results, but the my appt was set before 9:00 am when they start taking calls. I just got ready and hoped for the best.

When I saw my doc, and she asked how I was, I told her about my "cold". She then corrected me buy saying "No, that's officially a flu." She listened to my lungs and did her thing. Afterwards she said words that you really never want to hear from your girlie doc. No not the dreaded "C" word, but still, something you just never want to hear. She said "It's amazing that you're fine now but *deep inhalation of air*... between your Z-pacs and all that Prednisone... you're looking a a MEAN yeast infection. I'm just going to write you a prescription now 'cause... it's coming." Oh great. She continued with "Go fill this now and the second you feel ANYTHING, start taking it. You'll be fine." Good grief (and apologies to Norman). We then discussed diet and exercise. I told her I'd been losing weight since the new year. I handed her a list of foods I'd been eating and said "It's probably just the way you eat." She confirmed my suspicion. We then discussed recipes and food prep short cuts for about 15 minutes. I love my doctor. She must schedule time to chat with her patients because she never rushes and we always end up talking for at least 10-15 minutes after my exam. In fact, the exam never takes more than 5 minutes. It's the catching up that takes all the time. The very first time I met her, we talked for 30 minutes before she ever laid a hand on me. I'd NEVER had a doctor spend so much time just getting to know me. She's usually interested in my lifestyle and the stress in my life. She's such a great doctor.

I told her about that damn Prednisone keeping me up all night. She said brightly "Now you know how it feels to be bi-polar... or to have a giant caffeine drip!" I agreed. She went on to say "But isn't it amazing stuff?" I told her that, yes, I felt remarkably better but that the lack of sleep was going to be a problem. Assuming I can make it to the weekend I should be good to go though.

On the way home I dropped off her prescription (some things you just don't procrastinate) and asked the Pharmacist about the no sleeping thing. I was hoping I could move my "take at bedtime dosage" to the dinner time frame. He nodded and said "Yeah, the first couple of days are very high dosages so those first nights are rough. The dosage lessens as you go on. It gets better. You'll be good for the weekend!" He was so optimistic. How I'm supposed to get to Friday with no sleep I'm not exactly sure. Also, after a week of no appetite these drugs are making me hungry. The party's over. :(

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!

WHAT THE HELL IS IN THAT STERIOD THEY GAVE ME? It's almost 2:00 am and I'm wide awake! Awake after taking my beloved cough syrup with codeine. I'm like a meth addict kicking off a week long bender. What's in that damn drug? Caffeine? Speed? What?

I've now lowered myself to watching the Polish Stoneware Anniversary on QVC (it's really quite charming). Anything more exciting might send me to an early grave. My foot hasn't stopped tapping for hours. Even my Spring Showers CD hasn't helped. I've been composing future blog entires in my head while I've tossed and turned. Too bad I'm not a real writer working on the great American novel... I'd be all set on this crank. God, now I know how our moms lost weight in the 70's. I feel like starting a yoga class or running laps or taking up pottery or macrame! What the hell? I wouldn't be so annoyed if I didn't have to wake up in four hours. How am I supposed to take these meds for over a week? I'll be dead by then. And why didn't anyone tell me about this rather unfortunate side effect? They all know I have trouble sleeping.

I finally decided to just get up and read the side effects of these drugs. For your enjoyment, here is a list of the potential side effects (always my favorite portion of the information packet):

• Stomach upset (I'm already lactose intolerant and very familiar with this fun side effect thank you very much)
• Headache (um, I'm already suffering from a 48-hour-old blinding sinus headache)
• Dizziness (I did actually tip over this earlier this evening, thank God there isn't video of it)
• Menstural period changes (fine, make me think I'm menopausal)
• TROUBLE SLEEPING (SO not cool!)
• Weight gain (also, not interested!)

Great! It also mentions that I should be on the lookout for persistent fever/cough/sore throat (Hello! That's why I'm taking this horse in the first place!!!) I'm apparently supposed to inform my doctor if any of these side effect occur. Looks like I'll be making that call tomorrow.
Check out the some of the other fun signs I'm supposed to immediately tell my doctor about:

• Black stools (lovely)
• Vomit that looks like coffee grounds (WHAT?!)
• Persistent weight gain (just how fast will I be piling on the pounds anyway?!)
• Unusual hair growth (WTF?)
• Thinning skin (what does that even look like?)
• Unusual growth spurts (where exactly?!)

As if they have to tell us to call our doctors if any of those symptoms pop up. Can you imagine NOT telling your doctor about any of those side effects?

I'm apparently going to turn into a man overnight. God help me. But don't worry, I promise to post pix if that happens. I know you'd all be terribly interested.

Ok, I'm off to clean my closet or the garage... but wait, now they're showing Irish Porcelin on QVC (also, quite charming.) Maybe I need a nice mug... Or wait! I wonder where I could find a Wii at this hour?! Hmmm.

On the mend

So, the doc walked in the room, took one look at me and said "So, I guess we need the big guns, huh?". I just nodded. She poked around and looked in in my mouth then said that since the Z-pac wasn't working I'd need steroids but "not the muscle kind". (Well that's a relief since I'm not excactly trying to gain weight.) Then some other girl came in and gave me a shot of prednisone (I think it's called... I've been sort of dingy so I'm not so sure what the heck they gave me). I said what I always say in that scenario "I'm sure you're great at this, but I just can't watch." My mom never let me watch a shot coming and it's a tradition I've stuck with as an adult.

I later spoke with my boss. She got a steroid shot when she recently had sinusitis. She told me "You'll feel better by 6:00 pm." I was skeptical, but the woman was right. I've gone from not being able to swallow to barely having a scratchy throat. It's a miracle! I still have a pretty bad sinus headache but I'm afraid to take any over the counter drugs with my prescribed drugs because of Heath Ledger. He ruined it for everyone. NO more free-for-all Excedrin PM popping me for me! I'm just hoping that I can take my cough syrup, get some sleep and wake up without the headache. I've got my annual girlie doctor appointment tomorrow but I'm a little worried all these hard core drugs will mess up and tests they run on me. Guess I'll have to call and ask first thing tomorrow morning.

Hope you're all hanging in there. My doc said that she's never seen anything like this flu. It just isn't going away. She's had dozens and dozens of patients come in two, three and four times with the same bug. I admit, it made me feel better. I was beginning to think I had some sort of sub par immunity system. Somehow it's good to know others are going through the same thing.

Here we go again

I'm sick, again, for the third time in about six weeks. It first crept up on me, again, on a Friday night. I had a touch of a sore throat on Saturday but it didn't really knock me out until Saturday afternoon. I started to feel very tired and achy. Sunday was worse. I can't remember ever feeling that achy all over. I even tried taking Tylenol only to come to the sad conclusion that Tylenol is for wimps. It didn't do a damn thing for me. I still had a headache, sore throat, sore ears, sore eyes, sore hair (you heard me) and no appetite. I know, imagine me with no appetite. I felt so awful it finally occurred to me that I might want to check my temperature. It was 101 degrees last night. I rarely have a fever. In fact, my normal temperature is lower than the average bear's. My "normal' temperature is 98 degrees. Not 98.6, but 98. I don't know why that is or what it says about me but it's one of those weird Lucy facts that only a mother would know. Well, a mother and now you. So what does a chronic sicky do with her shut-in weekend? I chose to spend my time with a few good friends: Joan Crawford (Mildred Pierce), Ingrid Bergman (Gaslight) and Oliva de Havilland (The Heiress). I may not be able to swallow but I can still appreciate a good film thanks to Tivo and TCM's 31 Days of Oscars. (Each day of the week features a different decade of Oscar winning films... aka ...a slice of heaven!)

After such a restful Sunday I figured I'd give going to work a shot. I got up this morning thinking I'd go through my normal work day routine and see how I felt and how far I'd get. I was back in bed immediately after my shower. You know you're in trouble when a shower is too much of a workout for you. I later called my boss to tell her I'd be out. We've been extraordinarily busy and I realize the timing isn't great but there wasn't much I could do about it. She didn't sound thrilled but I didn't think she'd want me and my fever anywhere near her office today.

I've got another doctor's appointment tomorrow morning. I'm not sure why I bother. I doubt they'll give me anything. I've already burned through two rounds of antibiotics. I just want to be able to swallow without pain again. It hurts so bad it reminds me of my numerous bouts with strep throat as a kid. I always thought it was cruel to tell a kid they have strep then tell them you expect them to swallow a gigantor pink penicillin pill a couple of times a day for a week. Sadists! The only good to come of those bouts with strep was my ability to swallow lima beans whole which really came in handy when my parents were on one of their frequent "eat your vegetables" kicks.

Wish me luck at the doctor's office. The last couple of times I've been there I've about bit the doc's head off when she poked at my tonsils and innocently asked "Does that hurt?" A very loud (well, really more of a barked) "OWW!" followed by a terribly annoyed look seems to be becoming a nice tradition for us.

She's trying to kill us

I'm beginning to think Paula Deen is the devil and I'm certain she's trying to kill us.

I'm conflicted because she looks a bit like my Mom, but then I see what she's making and I'm convinced Paula is trying to kill us. Think about it, if the devil decided to walk the earth, he wouldn't be dumb enough to actually look like himself, he'd look like a sweet, Southern mama. The devil would work hard to blend in and be charming. He'd want us to trust him and what better why to gain access to the masses then to become a successful, likable, Southern cook with a tv show and a pair of cute sons?

I first started developing this theory while watching Paula make a bread pudding. Of course Paula's bread pudding is like no other. Paula's bread pudding is made of Eagle brand sweetened condensed milk AND Krispy Kreme donuts. (Take it easy Paula, you're scales are beginning to show, I thought to myself.)

The thought reappeared after reading Shandon's recent post about Paula's deep fried cheesecake. (Did I mentioned that that recipe was featured on a show titled Fry Me To the Moon?) My theory was cemented this morning after watching her make peanut butter cups in a blanket and a bruleed banana split. I'm sorry, but it's official, the woman is out to kill us all and her poor husband is bound to be her first victim. The man doesn't stand a chance! Imagine Paula cooking for you all the time? I don't know a soul on earth who could say "no thank you, Paula" when faced with her food.

Of course my theory does not lessen my love for Paula. I adore her blatant disregard for health. The woman throws caution to the wind and I love her for it. Keep up the ballsy cooking Paula. Nobody does it better.

Imagine my disappointment

Yesterday I voted at a new polling place. They've been changing my polling place annually lately. It's sort of annoying because until recently I'd been going to the same sweet old lady's house for years. Now, of course, I'm worried about the little old lady. Why aren't we voting at her house anymore? Is she just sick of the responsibility and retired or worse? I can't stand thinking about it. There used to be a dapper old man who walked past our house every day. And let's be clear, I live in a hilly area. This old guy was in remarkable shape and well into his 90's. One day we realized we hadn't seen him in a while. We learned he'd died and it makes me sad to this day. We also had a nice man named Dick who used to sit on the curb and wave to every car as it passed. Dick had Down Syndrome and was the friendliest person I've ever seen. One day Dick too disappeared. We never found out what happened to him. His parents were old so we assume he had to move elsewhere. I hope Dick is still sitting on the curb waving to passersby. You couldn't help but adore him for trying to make your day.

But I digress, while I remain worried about my elderly poll place worker, there was some happy news. My new polling place was at a fire station. Why is this good news? Well duh. My first thought, when learning the location of my polling place, was "Ooh, firemen!". As I walked up the path to vote, I noticed I'd have to pass through a weight room. My internal voice squealed "Ooh, pumped firemen!" Somehow I thought this guy might be casually hanging out with the volunteer polling place ladies:



He wasn't there. In fact I didn't see a single fireman the entire time I was there. Imagine my bitter disappointment when I walked only to see a gaggle of senior citizens? *sigh* The real good news was that there were three Democrat booths at my polling place. I think 3 dem booths is a record for my city. I was very excited to learn that Dad and I are no longer the only ones. Happy days!

And the best news of all? The guilt trip worked. AR voted right after work yesterday. Woo hoo!!

Get your votin' panties on!

Lucy: Ya got your votin' panties ready for tomorrow?
Co-worker: Well, err... I know I'm gonna catch crap for this, but I'm not voting. I don't vote in primaries.
Lucy: Oh, you just let everyone else decide for you? And what do you mean you "don't vote in primaries?"
CW: Well, you know... I just... I haven't had a chance to get to know the issues and I don't want to cast an uninformed vote.
Lucy: What, you can't go home tonight and do a little homework?
CW: I know. I just...
Lucy: You know women died for the right your throwing away.
CW: You're not seriously saying this to me.
Lucy: Yup. Some women died for the right to vote. Lots of people have died to vote and continue to die to this day. I'm just saying you might want to put that in your pipe and smoke it.
CW: OK! (Exasperated) Maybe I'll vote tomorrow.
Lucy: Good.
Lucy: ... and I wanna see your sticker!

I have this conversation pretty much every big election. Somebody tells me they're too busy to vote and I throw guilt like crazy. I have no shame. I don't care. I just want people to remember that the right to vote is a big deal and that it's worth doing.

Distraction

So, while the rest of the world hunkers down to watch (and eat through) the Super Bowl, I'm busying myself with other distractions. My original plan was to make some Valentine's Day cards for my niece and nephew, but then I found an great distraction from that. Did you know about the Library of Congress partnering with Flickr? I can't believe nobody told me! Apparently it's a little experiment that's proving to be remarkably successful. The LOC wanted to make it's archives more accessible to the public and decided to upload over 1,500 photos to Flickr just to see how folks would react. Well, people went gaga over the idea. Every photo has been viewed multiple times and comments have been left like crazy. I think it's safe to say we can expect more of this from the LOC and I, for one, can't wait.

Now, if you're thinking this is a rather highbrow alternative to the Superbowl, you may be right. But just when you start to take yourself too seriously, you find comments like this one and can't stop laughing in agreement:

This photo is titled "Sailor and Girl at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier". Pretty obvious, but somebody was good enough to leave one of those little boxed comment over the couple's hands and note what we're all thinking: "Worst marriage proposal location... ever." Ha!

I'm a big fan of both history and photography so this is, naturally, a thrilling find for me. The down side is that I feel a bit like a voyeur. Some of the photos seem to have been given from personal collections. I can't help but wonder how many people out there have relative's photos at the LOC and don't even know it. Most do not list names. Of course, that could be a privacy issue that the LOC has but has chosen not to include online. Still, I look at all of these faces and wonder if their great grandkids, nieces, nephews, daughters and sons know they are here in all of their glorious youth and often in full color. Wouldn't it be amazing to be skimming through these and see a familiar face? Other shots are well lit and obviously posed but I've never seen anything like them. Especially the WWII era color photos. Amazing!

For instance, check out Elibia. She wears an expression that, I'm guessing, was more frequently worn than that made famous by Rosie the Riveter.

And check out this guy's job:


I think it's safe to say I'd be terrible as a railway inspector. If someone could actually make me crawl down there between the rail wheels, all they'd get out of me would be a rapid fire "Yeah, yeah, everything looks fine down here! Ship shape sir. Can I go home now?" Ugh. What a terrible responsibility. I may have nightmares about it.

Maybe it's just me, but I simply don't recall ever seeing pictures like this (in color) ever before.

That's Washington D.C circa 1941. I love it!

If you're intersted in seeing the photos for yourself, here is the link. Enjoy!

Delightful Discovery

A few weeks ago I was perusing some blogs and came across a familiar name: Katherine Mansfield. This is a name familiar only to the very outer reaches of my memory. I couldn't recall how I knew the name but I definitely knew it. (Maybe Mrs. Hyde's class from High School?) Anyway, it's familiarity piqued my interest but, rather than rushing out to buy one of her books, I found an available copy through Bookmooch. Someone was offering a book of short stories by KM called, simply, Stories. Cool! I promptly mooched it. About a week later I received my nice old copy of Stories in the mail. (I happen to really like older books as long as they are in good shape. It may be the dated artwork on the covers, I'm not sure, but this cover really made me happy.)

That night, before going to sleep, I picked up my "new" copy of Stories and flipped through it for a good story to try. I chose one called Bliss. It was FAB-U-LOUS. Why haven't I been reading Katherine Mansfield my whole life? She's wonderful. Bliss sort of reminded me of Fitzgerald but with a lovely feminine touch. I realize that's a big comparison but there you have it. I'm suddenly quite a short story fan. They're so perfect for my weary nightstand.

I've had Ms. Mansfield on my mind all week but it wasn't until this evening that I had a moment to look her up. Let's just say that any Wikipedia entry that includes words like "bohemian/bisexual, met, married and divorced in three weeks, pregnant from a family friend, miscarriage, gonnerhorea, depression, WWI, DH Lawrence, pleurisy and tuberculosis" will hook me like nobody's business. I am SOLD. I now heart Ms. Mansfield and am on a mission to learn more about her. She's exactly the kind of auntie I'd love to have. As if all of that isn't impressive enough, Virginia Woolf is said to have once claimed that Mansfield's writing was 'The only writing I have ever been jealous of'. Nice going Katherine! Well except for that unfortunate death. That's SO something I'd die of.

I guess more than anything I'm excited that I'm still capable of recognizing good writing. It's been years since school so, you know, you sometimes wonder if you've lost your touch. It was a bit of a relief.

So, my question to y'all is what other great writing am I missing out on? Any suggestions? Do tell!

#8,592 why I adore my Mom

The other day I received this email from my Mom:

"Well, I went to the Weight Watchers meeting. The leader looks like she has about 50 to lose! I like that in a leader."

Mom, you crack me up.