Well, we’re getting a nice downpour of freezing drizzle right now, and it’s supposed to be another lovely ice storm for the metro area. We were going to head up to Iowa this weekend, but this, among other reasons, has cancelled those plans.

On the knitting front, one of the Christmas presents I gave our dear friend Roger was the promise of hand-knit socks. I don’t knit socks for people, really, except JWo and me, and then I made a pair for my dad when he was sick, and then a pair for Brenda so she would feel the love and connection that goes into knitting up socks. I also made my mother-in-law a pair for Christmas. So yes, I guess I do knit socks for other people, but not just “OH, hey, would you make me a pair?” or “Could you make some for my Sister-in-law?” They’re only for the near, dear & special. And this includes Roger! I made them in record time – given that they were bigger than the ones I usually make for myself, and how long my Mermaid socks had taken me with paying attention to the pattern. Pictures!

Roger’s Socks, in Trekking XXL #138:

My Mermaid Socks, in Trekking XXL #139:

Oh, and the mohawk? (JWo called me “mohawk girl” this morning) It’s not really a mohawk. But I can get some INSANE bed hair workin’ while I’m sleeping. My friend Beth thought my hair QUITE hilarious when we roomed together on the Kristin Wedding Trip last fall. So I had to incorporate a photo of it into my participation of the 365 Days pool on Flickr. Pretty! But that’s on’y in the mo’nin. Wooowooooo!

If I’ve learned one thing in the short amount of time I’ve participated in this photo pool? It’s that I have absolutely minimal knowledge about photography. I’m awed by some of the stuff out there, it’s just incredible!

If life is like a box of chocolates, then I would like a medium-sized box of original Frango Mints to magically appear on my desk.

Target really should sell them. Wait. Maybe not. Too accessible.

I have such fondness for them – they used to be something we only had at Christmas, as our family friends brought them back from Chicago during the holidays. (My dad & he grew up in Hinsdale.) When I moved to the Twin Cities, they were available at Dayton’s – in so many more flavors. But there’s just nothing like the mint ones, for Original Gangstah Chocolate-Flavored Memories. (OGCFM)

Someone’s ready for lunch.

OK, I’ll get to my eyes in a minute, but right now my dog is lunging after some sort of flying bug that is in the computer room/attic with us, and it’s very distracting. I’m assuming she learned this behavior from Suzy, who is known throughout the midwest for her bug-gettin’ skeelz. I have no idea if she got it at this point. She had it, let it go, and then got it again. I swear, she has half a cat in her.
OK! Back to the regular blogging!

I had my big Lasik eye exam today and yes, I am an excellent candidate for the procedure. It still kinda freaks me out, and it’s not exactly cheap, but then really, do you want to go into the 7-11 for a Slurpee and some quick Lasik with the Extra Taquitos Post-Op package? PRObably not. They dilated my eyes, and I was rather panicked afterwards when they told me they no longer had the undilating/reversing drops. Just my frickin’ luck. Apparently the company who makes it is in some sort of patent feud with another company and they aren’t making it right now, which means I got to drive home doing my own impersonation of The Fly. Look! There’s ELEVENTY lanes to drive on and they’re all shining bright with the evil, evil light. Even now, some 5-6 hours later, my eyes are still sensitive and my monitor is confusing me – is it heaven? Go to the light! Oh, never mind, it’s just the bright white of Blogger.
(See? Still dilated:)

Meanwhile, I am cranking on my friend Roger’s Xmas socks. They are AWEsome. I will put up a picture, along with the mermaid socks I finished last week. Patterned socks (anything beyond our friend Le Rib) take me a lot longer to do, and I was surprised at how fast I tore through his socks. It helps that I have about three projects’ worth of yarn screaming at me to hurry up.

I must end this entry, because Polly has gas and we are in a confined space. Between my eyes and my nose, my body is going to start shutting down in about three….two….one…….

JWo loves to laugh at me. I say things like, “He fuckin’ PLOWED into him!” for a hit he wouldn’t categorize as a PLOWING. Alls I know is, someone knocks my feet out from under me, no matter what sort of helmet I’m wearing, I’ve been plowed.

So, it is with shameless pride & arrogance I give you this screen capture.

Yep, that’s me. Jen$ A$$ Kicker$. My blog-bud Bekah organized a Fantasy Football league last fall and invited me to partake. Now, my exposure to fantasy football thingies in the past consisted of all men, gathering in a room someplace, drinking, eating, whatevering, and talking about individual players spanning the league nonstop for months. All of it booming over my head at sonic speed. So it was simply natural for me to join. And I did, and I made my picks, and then? Then? I thought that was it. Hah! This would explain why, after a couple weeks, I was at the bottom of the league. You have to change your player roster every week, sillies! DUH! (I inserted that for those of you who are more knowledgeable and were already getting dizzy from shaking your head so hard.) Well. I only give you the excuse that I was really busy and I think I was even gone the night we did the actual draft. But all you have to do is fix the gun in my hand for me to take off like a monkey on crack, shooting up the saloon and fruit stand. And with a little advice and guidance from Bekah, I picked up the pace and got, shall we say, a little more competitive. Granted, I can only credit luck for my ultimate win, because I still don’t bother to know everything about everyone in the NFL, and I really only follow the Chiefs.

But the long & short of this story (besides what a fan-fuckin-tastic WINNER I am, so modest and non-preening) is that sometimes the winner is a surprise. And I’m hoping like mad, so hard my fingers ache from being crossed, that we’ll see a surprise tomorrow afternoon when the Chiefs take on Indianapolis, and our amazing playoffs chance lasts a little longer this go-round. If not, well, at least I’m still a WINNER. ME. MMM-HMMM. You could almost say I PLOWED my way through the brackets……

I’ve always loved puzzles. Whether it’s a crossword, sudoku, tetris, or a box of a thousand pieces, the puzz and puzzling of my brain is one of my great joys in life. I tend to approach most everything in life as I do a puzzle: understand the goal/desired result, assess the situation, determine the process, do the work.

Grief, thus far, has eluded me as a tangible, definable puzzle. It has felt like a large blob in Aisle 12, simply awaiting cleanup, and no matter how diligently I mop, scrub or scrape, it replenishes and shifts and changes and morphs and moves as I thrust my hands deep within it and try to find a hold, something to grasp. Because I’ve been searching for clues, trying to find something to give traction, a place to stand and stop falling down.

Yesterday, I left work a smidge early. I was tuckered out and the stress was gone, and I wasn’t doing anything worthwhile. My mind wandered as I drove my familiar road home, and I thought about a couple situations in my life, and as I’ve done so many times before, I thought, “What would dad tell me to do?”

And that’s when it hit me. When I finally found a line, an edge, a shape to at least part of this. An unspoken fear, truth, knowledge and sadness in all of this that finally felt concrete. Because I can’t call him anymore. I can’t ask for his advice, even if I chose not to take it. I knew that, of course. But I realized at the core of this, I’m afraid I won’t be able to be wiser with him gone. Who will teach me, give me the perspective that only time can bring? Who will temper my spluttering, will tell me to calm down, and do so with the wisdom of my father, with the unconditional love of a parent, with the perspective of having known me from my first breath, my first cries, my first steps, my first words? Seeing that stark truth helped some of my grief form under my hand, and I felt the first delineation of an object, of a puzzle piece, an edge of a shape, a shape I hope to see in its entirety someday.

I’m thinking that’s the basic outline of my day. We had our big meeting today, and it went well, overall. Some parts were skeery, some parts were stressful, and my part, at the end, was delivered in high-speed Alvin-and-the-Chipmunks style in the interest of time. Fortunately, I think I skimmed over the less-interesting parts and spent my time on what makes us FABulous. Which is the whole point of sales. Nothing is more unpleasant than having someone read to you. In business anyway. (I just read “Hooway For Wodney Wat!” to JWo the other day.)

Once the meeting was over, Kristin and I went to Imo’s for pizza, and Half-Price Books. I actually didn’t buy any books (a couple cards & a trinkety gift for a co-worker), but Kristin made fast friends with a lady in the crafts section. I walked back to find her & (in a true friend move) left her there. Actually, this woman had the ability to talk without pause. I seriously had to cough/clear my throat to even make my presence known, and she continued to talk talk talk talk talk talk (and breathe, which always mystifies me, how someone can do that and never give you a moment to jump in and say something.)

I’d like to script the rest of my day, which would involve knitting and sleep, with perhaps another meal thrown in there and hugs from my sweetie. I’m just drained from the build-up of nervousness (coffee makes me a might nervous when I drink it, mm-hmmm) and anticipation of today, and now that it’s over, I want to fall down and sleep. Instead, I’m going to make some notes of everything I need to not forget to do, and go see what came in the mail. Slow-n-steady, until I can sleep! The pizza in me isn’t helping on staving off sleep though. Mmmmm. Sleeeeeeep.

These are the only times I really miss my old office, when I’d lie down on the floor & have a chair blocking the door. (I only did it for 10 minutes at a time, but boy, it made such a difference!)

-The internet at work, sadly, did not make ANY resolutions to be better. Talk about needing to look within and make a change. Sigh.

– Much to the joy & entertainment of those sitting near me, I have decided to sing along (in ten-second increments) to almost every song on my iTunes in the past half hour. (It’s sorted by album & I’m currently in the thick of a series of Billboard’s Top Hits, 1980-1989.) Because I love the eighties, and you will too! (Toto! St. Elmo’s Fire! When mullets weren’t so bad and ballads were the BOMB baby!)

– I have this thing tomorrow and I am so not into it. But like the stage peformer I always wanted to be, I will flick the switch and radiate joy and energy and hopefully, not break a leg.

– I’m not sure if my bipolar attitude is tied to a decision I made last night to drink an entire bottle of champagne. And eat Christopher Elbow chocolates. Because in my opinion, you should START the new year with indulgence and celebration, too.

– I hate working through lunch because every hour thereafter is a horrible shock. I was certain it was after 3, and in fact, it was only nearing 2:00 p.m. This makes me uber-cranky.

– I’m not switching to the new Blogger until they make me. I’d love to use the new features, but every time they tell me to do it, I go through three steps & then they say, “OH NO, so sorry, we aren’t letting your kind in yet.” Well, piss up a rope, then, and quit asking me to do it.

– Alright, the internet has gone out for drinks. I better publish this before all lines are down & she’s drunk & dancing on a table. More later.

I had a blog post last summer titled, “The Only Way Out Is Through“, and I’m trying a different tactic for 2007. Up with people, Up with Jen! OK, that’s a little squirrely. But you wake up on January 1, 2007, and clean up dog poop because you have a dog who every three months thinks it’s perfectly acceptable to ignore her time outside as pooping time and just do it in the house once you’re both back asleep, and you, too, my friends, will think, Bravo! We can only go upwards from here! Polly, on the other hand, has some learnin’ to do.

We rang in the new year splendidly. The Chiefs clinched a spot in the playoffs, and we were celebrating with hot wings & other munchies at James’ friend’s house, about 45 minutes from home. The night was spent playing poker (mostly the guys), and card games (mostly the girls), and I actually won the pot for one round of “Shit on Your Neighbor”! (Though I guess Polly trumped everyone this morning with the less-popular game, “Shit on the Floor!”) We got home very late, and it was nice to sleep in. I’m sort of delaying the accordion-style lineup of things that have to start happening once I get dressed & showered – for then, I have to go run errands. Get gas. Do the work I brought home. Blah blah blah.

I know this is a super-duper popular day for resolutions. I say Schmezolutions. Whatever. I chided a rep friend of mine at lunch a month ago, when she was agonizing over a friendship she couldn’t quite let go of, because of her guilt – despite how it was harming her. I told her, “Don’t wait for someone to die to figure out what’s really important to you.” Sometimes it takes that extreme of an event to bring it all into focus – but you don’t need it to be that sharply focused to figure out your priorities. If it hurts, quit touching it. If it brings you joy, keep doing it. If it needs to be done, just do it. Even if you don’t wanna. It doesn’t get easier? But it gets clearer.

One of the best musical artists I discovered in 2006 (and really, JWo discovered her & introduced us) is Regina Spektor. She’s taken some listening for the songs to really grab hold, and I know when something resonates because I wake up hearing the words and music in my head. I woke up with one of her songs this morning, “On The Radio”, and these lyrics from that song seem so fitting, given what I just wrote:

This is how it works
You’re young until you’re not
You love until you don’t
You try until you can’t
You laugh until you cry
You cry until you laugh
And everyone must breathe
Until their dying breath

No, this is how it works
You peer inside yourself
You take the things you like
And try to love the things you took
And then you take that love you made
And stick it into some
Someone else’s heart
Pumping someone else’s blood
And walking arm in arm
You hope it don’t get harmed
But even if it does
You’ll just do it all again

May 2007 be a better year for all of us. May your sorrows be short and your laughter be loud, and may your love be so great that it guides you, everywhere you go.

Just stating it to the world and the spiderbots apparently was all it took to undo the provisional cast of boredom that was tying me up yesterday. Holy smokes!

First, last night, the Wo called & told me Miss Suzy had hurt herself jumping from (something) to (another something) and had a small, but deepish gash in her thigh. So he needed to switch dogs & would I meet him in Harrisonville so he wouldn’t have to drive the whole way back? No problem. I did have to switch to LaFonda, because it’s lower to the ground & we didn’t want Suze to have to do any more jumping than necessary. In the time it took me to get home, grab a quick bite, switch cars & get Li’l P, he went to a vet & had her looked at. I love small town vets, I’ll just say this right now. The vet irrigated her wound, put antibiotics on it, gave her four stitches, another antibiotic shot, AND two weeks of antibiotics (twice daily, we are using the peanut butter mail men cookies as the delivery distraction) – all for $80. Nothing against the good vets of our metro, but I’d wager it would have cost double to do all that up here!

So, we made the dog swap, Suzy was just fine & cheerful and had good times leaning over and licking my chin while I was driving. We made a stop at World Market on the way back, where I got our new media console & tower to re-organize the tv & various electronics in the living room. (Half off! Gotta love it!) I had decided I’d take this afternoon off, to just putter & put the furniture together – but I walked in to work to a typhoon. We have a new business prospect coming in next week and WHAMMO, suddenly everything’s a twitter and we have a gajillion things to do (though, oddly enough, most of it doesn’t involve me!) So I’m going to stick around a smidge more, do a couple necessary things, and then vamoose. Tomorrow will be spent assembling furniture & then getting everything set up, which will be kinda fun. And still, there is all the laundry. Le sigh.

Be careful what you wish for! Actually, I’ll almost always choose busy (just typed “Busty”, which is applicable as well) over bored stiff.