Riding the Bike with One Pedal.

Month: July 2008 (Page 1 of 2)

My ISE Angel….

I’ve been a little stressed – but it’s no excuse. I need to give a big shout-out to my Int’l Scarf Exchange angel, Christine, who knit me up a yummy ribbed scarf in Jo Sharp Silk Tweed. Of course, she didn’t stop there, and packed along lots of other goodies from her home country of Australia.

Wrapped Packages!

Oh, I just love when everything comes all wrapped up! If I were doing another swap, I would remember to do this. But as I say every time, I’m not doing another swap. Christine sent some de-lish gummy animals (I can honestly say I had never eaten a gummy platypus before in my life), some chocolate (and chocolate espresso beans!), a cool knitting magazine, another skein of the Jo Sharp yarn, and then a skein of wool from the Knittery. Super duper cool!!!

ISE Angel Package

Thanks again, Christine. It really says something when a person knits two scarves & sends out two packages, and you truly are an angel!

Monday Mad Men, Summer TV

Well, we’ve jumped onto the Mad Men bandwagon – all the first season episodes are available On Demand (for TWC customers in KC, that’d be on Channel 126 – “Entertainment on Demand”).  I’ve roared with laughter only four episodes in, at some of the things that are still alive and well today in the ad biz.

What continues to shock us is the prevalance of smoking – I mean, EVERYbody smokes! Pregnant?  Smoke, and have a mint julep while you’re at it. And nobody thinks twice if someone else slaps your kid. It’s startling, to see where we were – not that long ago.  Boy-howdy, have women come a long way, baby. I almost understand why it was such a good slogan for Virginia Slims now…..

Other than that, we’re clinging to Swingtown, which, sadly, continues to decline in the ratings & has been moved to Friday nights, which is sort of like hospice for television shows. It’s really too bad, because the character development has been fantastic, and anyone who was alive in the mid-to-late ’70s gets eyeloads of kitsch candy with the exquisite attention to detail that the show has given the era.   Weeds continues to deliver, of course (Nancy! You are so naughty!), and we tried Flashpoint – three times is what I like to give something, to really see if it can develop or hold my interest, but I must report, it was a no-go to the sniper series, it was flatter than a comic book.  Law & Order CI has started airing new episodes, so I’m at least getting alternating doses of my hotties, Vincent D’Onofrio & Chris Noth.

I’m interested to see what the networks will be trotting out for the Fall TV lineup – and I’m also looking forward to some of my strike-interrupted shows returning for a regular run.  It doesn’t feel like fall yet, weather-wise, but it’ll be here before we know it!

Leader of the Pack….

I know I can’t type those words together without hearing the earworm, so I apologize if it’s been passed on to you as well.

We’re having a pack re-org right now, not that the order is actually changing – but we’re reinforcing the order as it should be.  In the past 24 hours, Tripper has tried to disrupt the order of things, and challenged Suzy – both times happening when we’re not present.  Since it would have been easier to control if he’d tried it in front of us, we’re enacting more stringent measures.  And, I don’t think I can handle another dog fight, because Tripper is not coming out on the winning end of this proposition, and the first time was nothing compared to the second.

The first “conflict resolution” happened outside, and Tripper came in with some gouges on the left side of his face. They were still bleeding a little bit, and I treated him as if he were an 8-year old: rubbing alcohol to clean it, and neosporin. He was not a fan of either, as you can imagine!  And this sort of thing happened with Polly, too – not quite as gougy or bloody, but she carried some scars/war wounds herself and it seemed par for the course.  We thought that would be the end of it, but then later that evening, Tripper finished his food first & attempted to get some from Suzy’s bowl. WWIII commenced. I had already left to meet up with some friends, and James was in the other room – suddenly, in came Tripper, trailing blood everywhere, because now he had some new gashes on his face and muzzle. James said it was a good thing I wasn’t home, because I would have freaked the hell out, and from his description of the scene, he’s right.

So, we have instituted Extreme Pack Order. Suzy got fed first tonight, then Polly, then Tripper. When we’re letting them in or out the back door, the same order applies. We are the pack leaders, and because James is the hard-ass, he’s the top dog, and as much as I love to pet and love on the pups, I am being a hard-ass about it as well, because Tripper’s in his teenage years and we need to nip this effectively and quickly. It’s a lot more challenging with three dogs, because we’re outnumbered, and (from the Omega’s perspective), there’s more combinations of ways to climb the pack ladder. Tripper’s constantly challenging and nipping at Polly, and she tolerates it in the house, but outside puts him in his place. We’ll be intervening more on that from now on, too.  We hadn’t seen much more than play with Suzy, so it seemed more puppy behavior vs. assertive or aggression; now that he’s been foolish enough to really take on the big dog, we aren’t allowing any other feedback or structure that gives him more foolish ideas.  The last altercation came pretty close to Tripper’s eye, and seriously, I am NOT knitting him little eye patches. Pirate Tripper. He’d look very rakish, especially with all these scars, but even though he may not have accepted it yet, he’s on the bottom of the pack and staying there.

I Believed Customer Service Had Died, Until the Last Leg.

I cannot believe it’s only Wednesday. I feel like I’ve been traveling for a week. I’m thoroughly exhausted, I’m out of sync with virtually everything, I still have birthday thank-yous to write, and I just want to sleep for an extended period of time, to wake up refreshed and discover it is Saturday. That would be sweet.

We left Kansas City on the 6:11 am flight with a connection in Detroit. My memory of that plane ride is a bit hazy, it could have been in part because we were in the very back row and the engine noise was so incredibly loud, I was pretty sure it had rearranged some fillings in my teeth.  We landed somewhere in the 20’s of Concourse A. Our connecting flight to White Plains was on Concourse C, Gate 35, supposedly leaving around 10:30. So off we trek, and even with moving sidewalks, it was a bit of a haul. Only to discover the plane we’re supposed to take has been hit by lightning. And our flight has been canceled.  The gate agent offered no solution, no recourse. When my boss asked about the next flight, she snapped, “Nine pm.” He told her that wasn’t acceptable, and so she found four seats on a flight going into LaGuardia, departing at 11:30. Which was better than 9 pm, but still would make our new business meeting a near impossibility. But we got the car reservation changed and then went to our new gate. Which would be Concourse A, Gate 77. The very end of the concourse we’d left. Sweet cheeks mary and no pockets of cheese, were my dogs a-barkin’ by the time we got to that flight. Because we were all in our “outfits” for the pitch, because even when the original flight was scheduled, we would be pressed for time. That flight was full, and miraculously, the package we checked actually followed us to LaGuardia, and we didn’t have to get a courier to retrieve it from White Plains.

So our plans went all to hell in a handbasket, and our prospective clients were so incredibly understanding, they rescheduled the meeting to the next day. I got to ride in a rental car through midtown Manhattan (I Plurk’d and Facebook updated throughout this journey, it was my entertainment), and my boss is a good driver & aggressive enough to handle the NYC traffic. To his credit, he even refrained from reading his Blackberry, something we all appreciated!  We had a different meeting in midtown, and I was reminded why I like NYC – the hustle and bustle, so much packed into tiny amounts of real estate. But my yarn stash and I could never, ever, call it home!

We got lost in Yonkers, just like the movie title, and eventually found our hotel. I’ll skip over the middle of Tuesday, just because everything went so well, and was such a fantastic experience for me, personally and professionally, that I simply can’t take the risk I’d jinx it somehow. It truly was a notable moment in my life and I enjoyed it immensely. And I will say that my background and NPR-listenin’ and funny dad stories all were natural fits. So. More on that, I do hope, just at another point in time. Right now I have to complete the travel circle.

I should point out that in KC, I got patted down. I don’t know if they thought my boobage or bellyage were secret weapons (of mass destruction?) or that my flowy clothing disguised some non-metallic item that they couldn’t wait to seize, but the TSA at MCI (KC) are nothin’ compared to the grouchy, over-the-top folks at the Westchester County Airport. The line was long, and one worker started yelling at all of us that there were TWO TABLES and to SHARE and KEEP THE LINE MOVING. Hi. Have to quibble with you, mate. When you STOP THE XRAY MACHINE to examine shit, shit piles up. When my jewelry sets off the sensor and I have to remove it, send it through the machine, and retrace my steps? It HOLDS UP THE LINE. It’s the way it works. Unless you’re going to open the other inspection post, we’re all sucking it up and lining up as best we can, so STFU with the angry, contradictory commands. And through all of this, I have a blinding headache, borderline migraine.  What else could happen? Well, newbie TSA boy scout has to inspect my luggage. Awesome. You know what it was?  A small bottle of talcum powder. I’d like to point out neither my jewelry, nor my powder tripped any alarms in Kansas City. And this airport is a darn sight smaller. You walk out to the tarmac and climb friggin’ ladder steps to get into the teensy plane.  In any event, I had purchased 4 Excederin and downed those as soon as my “inspection time” was completed. They finally kicked in and I was able to take off my sunglasses!

Our plane was delayed out of Westchester (after we’d boarded) and our area of the plane kept doing timetable calculations. We were going to KC, my seatmate was going to St. Louis, and the guy behind us was going to Milwaukee.  All of our connecting flights in Cleveland? Last flights out. And with the delays in NY, we would have (respectively) No minutes, 10 minutes, and 15 minutes to make our connections. Sweetness. I was pretty sure we were going to be spending the night in Ohio. Fortunately, though, our flight to KC was delayed by two hours! And finally, I got some decent customer service – the gate agent moved my seat to guarantee I wouldn’t have a seatmate, even gave me a choice, and her co-worker chimed in to tell me which row was better. Bless them both, it was perfect.  I finished my book on the flight home, had a Bombay Sapphire and tonic, and walked in the house after midnight. The dogs and the Wo missed me, they all waited up for me, and James had made me a plate of fresh tomatoes and a couple pieces of cheese, since my dinner had been two tiny bags of mini pretzels, granola bars and a couple Ghiarardeli squares.

The meetings were fabulous, the travel could be improved. But some of my fears were unfounded – the small planes were just fine, and I fit in the seats, and my spinner suitcase is awesome. Except when you’re trying to climb up stairs!

Sunday Quickie…

I have both my bosses showing up on my doorstep at 4:50 a.m. tomorrow. Yes, that’s right. A time one normally associates with PM and GOING HOME.  Knowing them, they’ll be early. Knowing me, I’ll be scrambling. We’re going to NYC (unfortunately, not on a direct flight), and while I would have preferred the train (sleeper car, of course), methinks it would have taken a lot longer.  The only flight back was Tuesday evening, so it will be interesting to see how we occupy our time on Tuesday (there is one scheduled appointment, but I have been pulling to be dropped off at a yarn shop. Anywhere in the five boroughs.)

I haven’t flown in a couple of years, so today required a trip to Target, to get the prescribed zip-top storage baggies, and then some snacks (because I will forever be scarred from another work trip, where our only sustenance was Coors Light & Slim Jims in the back of the mini-van!) Granola bars are our friend! And I got some nut/berry mix & some Ghirardelli chocolates. I will also have to hide them from my trip mates, as they will undoubtedly NOT have planned accordingly and would mooch me out of everything in seconds flat. You’d think we were heading out in covered wagons, and I’m afraid of running into the Donner party!

OH but talk about one trashy encounter after the other at Target. Lordy. I poked my head down the pool toys aisle, hoping for a kickboard or something similar, and was suddenly in the presence of The Trashy McTrashersons. Mother, Child, Grandfather, and Grandmother, and every adult was wearing a flashy bluetooth headset. Every adult was also shouting every word out of their mouth. The mother was calling for her son, and started doing the counting thing (ONE!) and grandad then yelled THREE! adding (loudly) that HE DOESN’T BOTHER WITH THE FIRST TWO NUMBERS and then the kid came flying around the corner and they all were screaming at the kid, at the prices of everything, and how everything would be on sale anyway and I just had to leave.

I decided to get myself some handkerchiefs for the trip, as it is going to be sweltering, and it’s apparently archaic for ladies to carry them, so I was in the men’s department, and I turned around and two guys had their shirts off, trying on t-shirts. Not A&F model guys, or young hot guys, but two swarthy sort of characters with paunchy bodies and apparently, no time to be wastin’ with dressing rooms.

I had to get out as quickly as possible.  And now, since tomorrow morning will be here before I know it, I am off to shower and go to bed. Wish me luck flying & travelling, and most of all, success with our meeting! It would be, to quote Cartman, kickass…..

Tu quoque, my friends…

I posted a response to a fellow Raveler about the soap we watch – yes, I still enjoy my frothy taffy goodness of ATWT….. and while I was snarking, I heard a voice in my head saying, “Tu quoque, motherfucker.”

Because my father planted these seeds of Latin in my head growing up, they rattle around and surface at various times in my life. Not to mention he was hell-bent on teaching me every element of Philosophy and Logic before I hit middle school. (Long-time readers will recall how effectively that worked in fifth grade, what with the Ex Post Facto Bubblicious Incident of 1978)

It was a nice break in my day, hearing a little smart thing in my head, and then, because I can sometimes be wrong (don’t gasp or clutch your heart, it has been known to happen once in a while), I went and looked it up just to be sure I was using the phrase correctly. Indeed I was, and I smiled, because Dad had done a good job. The phrase he intoned with that was always, “If I am one, then you’re another”, and it aptly summarizes the fallacy of the argument. (Too bad they didn’t  have “nanner, nanner boo-boo” back in Ye Olde Roman Times, it would have made it so much sassier. Or “motherfucker” for that matter. Wait. They did. Oedipus!)

In other updates, it’s been a pretty stressful week, and I’m going to be working part of the weekend, with a business trip Monday/Tuesday. It’s half exciting, half stressful, and if there would be room to squeeze in something extra, I’d complain about the weather. But, we do have our li’l pool, so I am going to do as much chilling in it as I can in-between all this other stuff. For it all does pass, it works itself out, and some of the things I’m worried about may be only imagined shadows.

A=Apprehensive

4 Years, Babuh!

I was thinking about blogging, and how it’s changed so much for me over the years…. at first, JWo didn’t even know I was blogging. At first, only three people read my blog. And, at first, I had no idea what the future held.

Well, I still don’t know what the future holds, but it is interesting to go back and read blog posts from different time periods. I catch myself reading the ones before my father’s death with a certain wistfulness and longing, like how you might look at a photo of yourself as a child. I had no idea what was coming. Wasn’t even on the radar.

But we’ve soldiered on, and now I have new digs, and MOO cards, and a job I really like, and small knitty-business-ey things taking off, and right at the moment, nobody is gravely ill. So I count my blessings, and thank everyone for their time – witnessing the roller coaster from hell wasn’t part of the Fun Jen package, and I am always wide-eyed with a touch of naiveté when people really – honestly and truly – just pull themselves right up to the same precipice and lock arms with me and say, “I’m with ya.” Having been on the outside-looking-in my whole life, I forget I’m not alone out here. And that’s really the message of life, isn’t it? To recognize what is at your feet, your front door, a click or a call away – not focusing on the things you don’t have anymore or wishing life were different. I can’t say I wouldn’t undo some of the past, would I were that powerful, but I know regretting it or looking at it too long can turn me to stone.

So, the fun thing – and yes, I realize I start 8 bajillion sentences with the word “So” – came to me last night as I was driving home after Sock Stars (the sock club I facilitate at The Studio). I love words. I love writing. I want to list, each week, words that I think describe me – both good and bad and in-between, and do this exercise alphabetically. It seemed like a fun anniversary kick-off, and I was enjoying the words in my head so much I drove right past Red Snapper and nearly forgot to pick up our dinner. (But I did remember before I’d gotten too far past it…. whew! What with gas hitting $4.09 today, I can’t afford daydreaming and getting lost like I used to!)

I might do one word a post, or five in one, but my goal is to have at least five words a week. It actually gets challenging! You try, too! (ala Pooh.) (Oh yeah, we all get to cheat on “X”, too.)

Week One: A is for….

Animated.

Acerbic.

Aggravating.

Argumentative.

Amusing.

Artistic.

helpful hint – a thesaurus is your friend!

Wow, that was easy.

I just imported all my blog posts from blogger – holy toledo, it was push-button! Of course, the Haloscan comments didn’t come along, but they’re still stored and hey, maybe there’s a magic way to do those, too. But I’ve gotta wake up first & get going on the day. More on that later. And, there will be another post today – it’s my Blogiversary! And I had a cool idea last night for some upcoming posts, so I’ll share that then, too. See ya again shortly!

j

Smells Like a Shark, but It’s Made Fer an A$$hole….

Yep. That’s the kind of blog title you get when I dream it up at night, waiting to fall asleep – and ACTUALLY REMEMBER IT. Good times, Charlie Brown.

Wonder why? Well, yesterday, before we left the lake, we paddled about in the lake with the dogs. Most of the time we were in a shaded part, but I kept swimming out to the dock and looking around like a prairie dog surfacing. Perhaps I mean an otter. In any event, I put myself in the sun, and paid for it. My shoulders are a raging tender red, and the line where my suit was only adds to the shock value. I’m at least grateful we’re past the age in life where boys find it funny to slap you really hard on the back/shoulders to get a reaction out of you. (Or worse, snap your bra… oof.) The thing is, there is one thing that works really, really well on sunburns, and even though it’s not attractive, or particularly fantastic-smelling, the bottom line (heh) is that it does ease a LOT of the sting.

Preparation H. Yes. Exactly. I was incredibly skeptical, lo-so-many years ago, when James’ grandparents suggested I slather myself in hemorrhoid cream after another ding-a-ling afternoon in the sun. But I woke the next morning to drastically diminished symptoms, and I have to say, I’m a believer.

Think about it – it’s designed to reduce inflammation and painful BURNING – which is exactly what you have goin’ on with a sunburn. And if you’re going to put it – cough – there, well, it’s certainly safe for your shoulders. The only thing I really dislike about it is the smell. Because of the shark liver oil. There’s a definite whiff of something fish/oil-ish but when your epidermis is a-throbbin’, I can tell you, olfactory nerves be damned, the other ones are screaming way louder.

Of course, the really smart thing to do is to slather with SPF 50, to prevent sunburn in the first place. But if you lose your brain, or you get so caught up in the joy of swimming with your labs and watching their faces in the water as they oh-so-avidly swim and retrieve, well, there are some stinky, helpful solutions ointments!

ETA: HAH! I just got this in my nightly email news.  Check out THIS article in Adweek, about consumers using products as they see fit, vs. their original intent. First product mention? Preparation H. For ….muscle definition….? Huh. Well, the folks at PrepH want nothing to do with us, but I’m sure they’re content to take our money!

One Day At A Time….

It’s hard, because I just got home (again) and am already wound up about the next trip (and it’s unholy, inconvenient schedule), but I just reminded myself that the next one is a week away, and I have many days and hours in-between now and then before I need to be worrying about it.

Recapping the travels to-date: I took the train for the first time! It was actually pretty fun, and very no-stress, and I listened to podcasts of  This American Life and worked on a new pair of socks. I even toyed with the idea of designing something on the fly that would incorporate railroad tracks intersplicing, but I didn’t spend much time following through on that. If I want to, I still can – the toes are all I got done.  We had a business trip in Rockford IL, and one of my co-workers had a meeting in Galesburg, so we took the train to Galesburg & got a rental car (an ’09 Murano!) for the trip up-state. Our meeting went well, and the only real glitch was the train getting in an hour later than planned. I hardly knit on the ride back, because we spent a lot of time in the observation car (which is the party car, or at least it was that night), chatting and talking – with our group and other folks who wanted to chat as well. The train is full of all sorts of people! And the movement is very soothing – it rocks a bit, so it’s like being on a boat, or in a giant steel bassinette! And they sell wine by the half-bottle, which I drank straight from said bottle. I put the “k” in “Klassy”, friends.

Then we went down to the Lake of the Ozarks on Friday, for the traditional post-4th get-together, complete with a fireworks show that rivals any small town.  Much less drama than last year, and I really feel my role in “the family” – not that I’ve not felt part of the family before, but there are all sorts factors – your own upbringing and then the time you spend with your in-laws, it all contributes to how connected you feel.

I was raised apart from relatives – we rarely saw any family outside of our tiny three-person nucleus. My father hated doing anything that involved my mother’s family, she hated her own mother, so we rarely did anything with her side of the tree. My Auntie K lives in Florida, so our time seeing her was infrequent, and I think my dad just liked his isolation and not having to bend his schedule or wishes or share a bathroom because of any familial obligations.   So I really grew up with these high walls and boundaries – and I still have them. I’m an only child, I’m very selfish about my time, and find it difficult to be flexible if it involves me giving up “my time” if I’ve committed to other things or just carved out a chunk of time in my head for myself.  So, I guess this is a long, roundabout way of saying that I’m embracing and understanding a new sort of family, and it’s good.

And “our” nuclear family – JWo & me, all three dogs, had a good time this afternoon swimming in the lake before we rode home (with the smell of wet dogs permeating our entire trip…).  I spent some time this weekend with a new yarn project – a CROCHET project, lord help us all, I really don’t do anything for the craft and I certainly won’t be pursuing many more projects like this. Oof.  More to blog, and more to come, peeps. I’ll definitely get more posts in this week…..before the next onslaught of travel begins! More on that tomorrow!

~~Jen

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