I did a 1000-piece puzzle of Rafaello's 'School of Athens.' I bought it at the Vatican in 2008, and saved it for a winter's day (or six).
I was sick on New Year's Eve, which turned out to be a blessing in disguise. This has been my second NYE solo. I discovered that it's not so bad. Once you get past the count down and stroke of midnight, the sadness goes away. sort of.
Christmas morning is another story -- still haven't gotten used to waking up alone, and it is lackluster without my little Albabe sharing gifts under the tree.
I want a do-over. I can't shake this feeling of loss.
Looking forward to spring, my flowers, and the sun to warm my neglected soul.
Well, the breast wasn't ever in danger of being lost, but I'll bet the dramatic title doubled my number of readers (2 to 4).
Final election count was about 1485 for the Republican incumbent to 1035, my Dem debut. The independent candidate had less than votes. For my first run for elective office, I'm thrilled with the results.
As for the "palpable mass" in my right breast, it's nothing malignant. Mammogram, ultrasound, and needle biopsy say so.
Speaking of mammograms, a study was just published that recommended an incredulous, and horrifying, change in the age at which women should begin routine annual screenings for breast cancer. Some brainiacs decided that too many false positive results led to too many unnecessary biopsies and that women should wait until age 50, instead of 40, to commence with annual mammograms.
I don't have a strong enough word in my vocabulary that comes close to my opinion of their opinions.
Let's just say that I hope they will never, EVER, be allowed to work on projects more important than shoveling shit at circuses. And even that wouldn't be fair to the elephants.
Ok, so I'm a Democrat running for a seat on the Planning and Zoning board (not to be confused with Parks & Recreation.)
One minute I join the Democratic Town Committee, the next minute I'm campaigning.
And all it took was someone I just met to say, "... we think you should run for Planning and Zoning."
Next Tuesday is election day, and I have no idea what to expect.
I will be out at the polls early (theoretically 6 a.m.) and I'll be one of those people who accost the voters at the walkway. I've always been so annoyed by 'those people.' Something about milling around like a vulture smacks of desperation to me, but I'll give it a go.
I suppose there are the few voters who are undecided, and they might take one look at me and say, "Sure, I'll vote for you!"
And then they'll walk inside and ask "Which row is the Republican ticket?"
After the polls close, we'll await returns at headquarters. In the end, I'll either be toasting my drinks or drowning in them.
Regardless of the outcome, it will be a cool experience. (yeah, sure, it's sort of like saying, "It's ok if I don't win the Oscar, just being nominated was an honor.")
I hope that the vacation day I am taking will be be worth it. I hoard vacation days in the event, however unlikely, that a pile of money will rain down on me, and I'll be able to take off to Europe for two weeks.
I'd also like to take this opportunity to thank my neighbors for putting my sign on their lawn. Awfully sweet of them!
Last week I was watching NBC news, and when the latest sportscaster began his report, it triggered in me a nostalgia for Len Berman and his monthly "Spanning the Globe" segments. Then I thought about Len's predecessor, Marv Albert, another notable sportscaster.
My brain then took an abrupt detour (more like a U-turn) from Marv Albert to Herb Alpert.
Herb Alpert? The musician whose famous hit, "Taste of Honey" was played on my parents "record player" every weekend? Thirty years later, I didn't even know whether Herb was still with us.
The next day, a commercial that I had never seen appeared on TV, advertising a new album . . . by Herb Alpert!
I suppose stranger things can happen, but really, what were the odds of hearing about Herb Alpert two days in a row?
And how come this never happens when I think about someone I really want to see?
The pattern is always the same . A random thought about someone I haven't heard about in years, is followed shortly thereafter by news, phone call, or a personal encounter with that person.
My neighbor's blog just reminded me that it's the first day of summer. That means today is the longest day of the year. How did it get here so fast, and did it have to rain so much leading up to these looooong daylit times?
Frustrating, but I'll bet the ducks have been partying for weeks.
Aunt Alice is in hospice in Florida. I planned to visit her at the end of April but it looks as if I won't have the opportunity to say goodbye in person.
She is in her early 90s. She is one of my mom's best friends. She will be SORELY missed. She is a woman BEYOND "ahead of her time."
I will miss her unconditional love and support, her funny wit, and her subconscious habit of rolling the edge of tablecloths and hems while she speaks.
My thoughts are with her five children, my dear cousins, and her husband, Al. He won't know what to do without her.
She doesn't want an obituarY or a service, as if she never existed...
Sorry Aunt Alice, you're not going to get away that easily!
I love you darling. Say hi to Mom and Dad. Diane and I will catch up with each other in person, very, very soon. I'm sorry I missed you, please forgive me.
I will find a good photo, scan it, and post it. Maybe one of happier days on a cruise w/ Mom and Dad!
I spent the night on the couch again, simply because I was too lazy to "get up and go to bed," a phrase my mom always used when she woke me on the couch at night while we both watched TV.
Anyway, it was 6 a.m. and I had just finished watching an episode of Law & Order. I got up to make coffee and feed the cat.
As I passed the kitchen counter, I noticed out of the corner of my eye, the new Amazon Kindle that I just received yesterday. It was sitting at the opposite end of the counter where I left it last night to charge the battery.
Eager to play with it, I picked it up and brought it over to the couch with me. I was reading the Getting Started info onscreen and wondering whether I should print out the online guide.
In the meantime, another TV show was starting, and, judging from the way it began, I thought it was another episode of Law & Order, so I didn't change the channel.
Turns out the show, called "Angel," is about vampire slayers--they even reference Buffy in it--so it must be a spin-off of her hit series.
The subject matter is not my cup of tea, but my interest in it had already been piqued by its premise: a psychotic woman breaks out of an insane asylum, and goes on a mission to find the man that kidnapped and tortured her as a child.
Yeah, I know, not exactly wholesome entertainment, but it was too early to change channels to the more "wholesome" and intellectual news that's served up daily on the Today Show. :-)
So, I sat there on the couch, going back and forth between watching Angel, and playing w/ the Kindle during the commercials.
At one point, the protagonist was explaining to the victim that she was mistakenly torturing the wrong person, and then he identified the culprit that she should have been after.
Get this.
The man's name was Walter Kindle.
I almost dropped the Kindle in my hand.
What are the chances...
... of holding an Amazon Kindle in my hand at the exact moment a TV character utters the name Walter Kindle, on a show that I happened upon by accident?
Coincidence? I think not.
If the guys in Vegas could calculate those odds, I'd be interested in seeing them.
Really, this kind of "strange science" stuff has been happening to me steadily over the past ten years or so.
I have never believed in the supernatural, but every time something like this happens, I get a sudden outburst of goose bumps. If I could see the back of my neck, the hairs would be standing straight up.
I immediately called my friend Diane. Not only does she appreciate this kind of stuff, she's also heard me drone on about the many other weird coincidences in the past, like the recurring sighting of the three number sequence that just happens to be my birthday month and date, or the driving by a billboard and hearing a word uttered on the radio that just happens to be the same word I am looking at on the sign. (And, no, it's never a common word that could easily be explained by statistics.)
Diane was as incredulous as I was, and advised me to buy a daily lotto ticket today with the three-number sequence of my birthday.
I don't play the numbers, but it's times like these that I figure my odds of winning might be better than those of the average person.
Maybe I should purcxhase the ticket while I'm driving by a sign and listening to the radio, but that would be sort of difficult unless the lotto seller is willing to meet me outside as I pass by, and throw the lotto ticket through an open window of the car.
Aunt Millie passed last night around 8:10 p.m. My sister-in-law, Pearl, and I were blessed to have spent time with her yesterday afternoon.
My cousins and uncle came together in November, and stayed right through to her last breath, February 7, 2009. She was 79.
At the beginning of her treatment Aunt Millie reminded everyone that her mother, Grandma Irene, died at 79. Aunt Millie's 80th birthday would have been February 19.
Throughout her treatment, her youngest daughter decorated her room for each holiday: Thanksgiving, Christmas, Valentine's Day. She made a basket of hugs and kisses and put them by her bedside.
Aunt Millie was a faithful and devout Catholic.
I am skeptical to admit that it may have been her faith that carried her through, but a part of me envies her absolute faith. If faith is what allowed her to stay a little longer so that she and her family could say their goodbyes to each other, I'm all for it.
Aunt Millie's approach to survival was to simply shrug her shoulders and accept that her time on earth was simply coming to an end. Her belief in eternal life must have been a huge comfort.
If she's right about the eternal life thing, I hope she forgives me if I have the opportunity to show up in her neighborhood.
She fought to stay alive as long as she could, alongside a family that respected her decisions, and protected her dignity when she no longer could.
It has been another life lesson for me in how fragile and resilient our bodies can be at the same time.
Sadly, I've become accustomed to witnessing the process of dying from unforgiving diseases: diabetes, cancers of the lung, pancreas, stomach, and brain.
Why are there no preventive vaccines like the ones for polio, small pox, rubella, mumps?
How is it that a wonder drug like Viagra was invented before a drug to prevent cancer? What kind of priorities fostered that research?
I often hear that pharmaceutical companies make far more money from treating cancer than from preventing it.
I pray that it isn't true, but somehow I think it is.
Tap away Aunt Millie, and give a big hug and kiss to Mom, Dad, and Grandma. We love you all.
After reading about the Google "fault" (meltdown) last week, I found hilarious this quote by the author of an article on Telegraph.co.uk:
"Users trying to access search results during the outage were forced to cut and past the links into the toolbar and visit the sites manually."
First, my mind had to get "past" the typo because my innate proofreading talent (annoyance to some) wouldn't allow me to proceed with another thought until it was fixed.
Then I got to thinking that perhaps the error was a Freudian slip on the part of the author. Maybe it was more of a commentary on how lazy we humans have actually become.
In the "past" (less than two decades ago) most internet users didn't even know what the internet was, let alone a URL.
To suggest that copying and pasting a URL directly into a browser is a hassle, reminds me how much we rely on technology to do the simplest things.
For example, have you ever stood with a cashier in a store when the power goes out?
"I'm sorry, I can't complete the sale, maam, because my cash register drawer won't open until the power comes back on."
I am tempted to say, "Well, get a pencil and paper out and I'll help you do the math."
Before Google, circa 1997, Internet users manually typed the address into browsers like Internet Explorer or Netscape.
With the advent of Bookmarks and Favorites, we didn't even have to do cut and paste anymore. Simply click a link to travel the Internet, no need to type a single keystroke.
What would we do without Google? I don't know, but here's a little fun that I found when I looked up Google's history.
Compliments of a link from Google -- the Swedish Chef language version. Who knew?
I used to be afraid of cats. My parents bordered on animal-phobic, so we never had a pet when I was young.
I promised my daughter when she was little that we would get a pet when we bought our home.
Coworkers urged me to get a cat instead of a dog, because cats are so much easier. With Jim's help, Alison and I chose our first cat from a rescue home, and my daughter named her Kitty.
Kitty was affectionate and gentle, but sadly she died a few years later from diabetes.
Our next cat, Marley, came into our lives from a friend's mom who had him rescued from a tree. Jim came home from work one night and found Marley lying at the doorstep, presumably napping. Except Marley had mysteriously died. Jim said he looked peaceful.
We next adopted Emma from the pound. She has striking blue-green eyes and is timid, never thrilled about being touched. Not long after, Henry, a furry black stray cat with light green eyes and a clueless look on his face, simply showed up on Jim's doorstep. We lived at Jim's at the time, and when I returned home to live, I couldn't bring myself to break up Henry and Emma.
Nowadays, living alone, I have Grace Kelly, who was lovingly rescued at 3 weeks by Jim's daughter, Amber.
Grace crawls onto my chest, lays down facing me, and lets me scratch behind her ears. She closes her eyes, purrs in my face, and tickles me with her whiskers.
Sometimes Grace extends her paws and tucks them under my neck. It always reminds me of the vision of Superman, flying through the air with his arms straight out.
Grace Kelly is my Supercat. She rescues me time and again, never failing to lift me back into the present, and put a smile on my face.
Last Thursday I went to see Aunt Millie at the nursing home. She had just returned from the hospital the night before, but was now vomiting, and had to be transported back to the hospital.
She was so disappointed, so tired of all the moves, yet so incredibly strong.
I cried as I drove home, feeling sorry for myself because I had no one to hug me.
A few minutes later, at my lowest moment, my phone rang. It was my neighbor Kathy who must have seen me come home. She asked if I was hungry and whether I would like some lasagna that her husband, Evan, had made.
That simple offer, and amazing timing, lifted my spirit and fed my soul.
The lasagna was pretty damn good too!
Thank you, neighbors, for your random act of kindness at a time that I needed it the most.
I've already had tears in my eyes while watching the Inauguration this morning. So many people at the Capitol -- it's mind-blowing.
Wow, Al and Tipper Gore following Dan Quayle down the steps to the platform. It took me a minute to remember Quayle's name -- evidence of his lack of an imprint on American history.
George H.W. and Barbara Bush enter. The only exciting thing there is that George is moments away from returning to civilian life, having challenged the entire Middle East with stupid phrases like "Bring it on" and "Shock and Awe." What a maroon.
It's a miracle the world is still intact, in spite of his devastating eight years in a position of power so undeserved and FAR beyond his abilities.
Speaking of inept, Cheney is in a wheel chair today because he hurt his back while moving boxes from his office yesterday. Ha! Karma for shooting his friend while hunting.
Jimmie and Rosalyn Carter, I've always loved them -- epitome of decency.
Bill and Hillary next. Bill's not looking happy, no smiles. You can almost hear his thoughts, perhaps something like "This should be Hillary's and MY day..."
As much as I like Hillary, I hate to admit that if she had won the Presidency, this inauguration day would have been lackluster.
Barack is in a league of his own, able to attract more than one million people on a freezing cold day. The excitement is palpable, the attendance overwhelming.
The military bands and intros of the former Presidents. Their appearances easily emphasize Obama's youth and energy. Nice touch!
The long shot of the mall packed with people is breathtaking.
The moment is almost here, they just announced the Obama girls, what a couple of cuties! And their grandmother. Right on, Mrs. Robinson! Your help as a caretaker paid off in ways you probably never imagined.
Laura Bush and Lynn Cheney, yawn. Nice, but not impressed w/ either. Stepford-like, ya know?
Michele and Jill, the new ladies in charge, looking fabulous! So classy, both of them, and not afraid to share their opinions either...
George and Dick will be next, can't wait to see the wheelchair again. Maybe he'll try to enter walking, out of sheer pride.
Nope, he's being wheeled out and hangs a LEFT to go down the ramp. How sweet is the irony in his being forced to go left?
George makes his last appearance as "President of the United States," or POTUS for "West Wing" fans.
George kisses Hillary, now that's a photo op!
Joe Biden next, looking competent.
The camera takes a peek at Barack as he approaches the entrance and stops to wait for his announcement.
The NBC voice over suggests what a lonely moment this must be for Barack, truly carrying the weight of the world.
Old white guys next, followed by Diane Feinstein and Nancy Pelosi.
Please be quiet and move out of the way. I can't stand it.
Regal trumpet-playing reminds me of a coronation.
And then, an unbelievable ROAR from the crowd, and a shot over the mall of hundreds of thousands little flags waving through the crowd like flocks of birds.
People cry. What a sight for this challenged country's eyes! It is one of the most memorable events in decades.
Diane Feinstein speaks briefly. Love her.
A prayer comes next -- sudden silence.
Personally, I could have done w/o the Our Father--it doesn't belong in politics.
ARETHA, sporting a wild hat with an oversized bow, sings My Country Tis of Thee.
Her finale, "Let freedom ring" brings on another ROAR.
Joe's sworn in at 11:57 a.m., January 20, 2009. Pretty good timing.
Itzhak Perlman and Yo-Yo Ma, holy cow. Beautiful, moving strings.
Lone clarinet plays 'Air and Simple Gifts' followed by a mix of piano, strings, clarinet.
It's here -- THE OATH! Justice Roberts mixes up the words -- how embarrassing for him. Maybe next time he'll bring the cheat sheet. What was he thinking?
Barack gracefully makes his promise, and the Marine band plays.
I think of my father. Wherever his soul is today, he is watching this with tears in his eyes. He was a very proud World War II, Iwo Jima Marine, 5th Division.
