Somewhere in my heart lives a woman I'm not - she loves to wear skirts, and makeup, and carry matching purses. She crochets, makes marbled paper, can whip up a dish from thin air, and fills her home with crafts she's made with her own hands, while the lovely scent of flowers drifts up from the bay window.
I've spent a lot of money on her over the years, but it seems that I've never really spent TIME with her. I found her eyeliner in one of those purses, along with a calling card for international calls to Mexico, about $4 in change, and a map of Paris. Did I mention she speaks fluent French, and lives in the south of France? I started to learn it several years ago, but didn't keep it up.
It seems that I have a penchant for buying certain things, which in reality, I never use. That could be why I own about twenty books in French, along with CD's, DVD's, and flash cards for French vocabulary and grammar. I love purses. I own at least a dozen. Yet, do I carry a purse on a daily basis? Uhm, no. Or I should say "not right now". I go through phases with purses. I'll carry one everywhere for months on end, and then one day, everything ends up in my jeans or jacket pocket, and the purse is relegated to the bedroom floor, slumped over a box of filing, collecting dust.
Vases! Oh my - a fascinating curve, a twist of color, a sensuous shape, something reminiscent of antiquity, and I'm all over it. Do I buy flowers? 'Sometimes!' my mind shouts in defense of my collection, even though it has been years.
As I was going through an old purse, I found lists of movies. I love movies, and own hundreds of them on VHS and DVD......yet I don't own a tv. Some of the DVD's have never even had the shrinkwrap cracked. I used to see over a hundred movies a year - in the theatre! I love the theatre experience. There's something about the lights dimming, the smell of popcorn, sinking into a seat and looking expectantly at the screen that I love. It's just NOT the same watching it at home. Yet I can scarcely walk by a DVD on sale without being tempted.
I have dozens of hobbies that I *think* about, yet don't actually pursue - bits and pieces of cloth and paint and glue guns litter my spare room. I have genealogy carefully filed away, and notes stacked up on possible places to check for the next big find. Two boxes (BIG boxes) are filled with scrapbooks, photo boxes, frames, awaiting that magick moment when I suddenly have the inclination to put one together.
What is it about our dormant lives that is so potent even while they sleep? Like a frozen seed, it lays there immobile, left for dead, but somewhere in its little secret heart, it holds in one invisible remnant of life, the shadow of a flame.
I feel like I have all the ingredients of a fabulous cake sitting on my counter - yet I have misplaced the recipe. How does one get from here to there? I'm not sure, but I keep stocking the shelves waiting for the chef to arrive.
--BT
Thursday, December 13, 2007
Sunday, December 2, 2007
Catching Up With The Tortoise
I'm not 'there' yet, but like The Hare, I am getting much, much closer every day.
Six months ago, when I had my rear brakes done, I was told by the dealership that the front ones would need replacing as well. With winter arriving in a hurry, I ended up getting that done on Thursday, along with an oil change, tire rotation, and diagnostics on the lukewarm air coming out of my heater. Five hundred dollars later, with a forecast of a good thousand more for the heater core and other maintenance, I was able to cross a few big things off my long-term To-Do list. Firestone said I still had about 50% of my tread, and everything looked in good shape - good thing, as the snow began falling Friday night, little tufts of cotton tucking itself into the nooks and crannies, coating the grass and drifting across the windows. It continued during the daylight hours on Saturday until we had about 4-5 inches.
Despite the weather, I was crossing things off my To-Do list left and right. Ebay sale item put into the mail. Take shredding to Work. Complete several audits. Empty dishwasher. Do more dishes. Make a Costco run! Get a fill for my nails. Return the next day for a pedicure. Lampshades, vanity lightbulbs, handsoap, eggs, cottage cheese, lemon juice. I ran out of eggs a few days ago. Lampshades, on the other hand, I've been needing since June. One by one, I slayed the dragons before me.
Made it to the International Motorcycle Show this weekend, and bought SEVERAL items I'd been wanting to get - a pair of heated gloves, something to keep my neck warm on a winter ride, a rain suit, a book on good rides in the Pacific Northwest, and a Xmas gift for someone else. I still need a new pair of boots, a jacket & riding pants. The boots I have are difficult to get on, and I've been borrowing clothes for six months. But all in good time - I did look for those as well, but didn't see anything that stood out as something I *had* to buy.
A few days ago on the way home from work, I was reminiscing about one of my favorite resort hotels and casinos on the Mississippi Gulf Coast - the Beau Rivage. I *love* that place. One of my favorite things to do was to lay in bed and watch an X-Files marathon for three or four hours. I don't have a TV at home, so this is my little sinful indulgence. I've had good luck there in the past, but I also truly enjoy staying there. The rooms are luxurious, and being surrounded by the beauty and ambiance there is very relaxing. The Indian Casinos up here just don't have the same feel - many of them don't even have a hotel, and they cater to the local crowd who may come in to spend $20-50 on a Friday night.
With that having been on my mind, it was a bit of providence to find an email from them yesterday inviting me down and offering two complimentary nights accomodations - good on two different weeks that I already have vacation scheduled. Despite all the time I've had off recently, I could really use some R&R. I have $600 in travel vouchers, and a bunch of airline miles, so I started checking to see what a flight would run me. Turned out to be ten bucks (and some airline miles). Sweet! I'm there!
My bills are all paid - I put checks for the power bill, and my cell, into the mail on Saturday. I even started pulling out the Christmas decorations, and putting them up. I've done a ton of filing. Yet even as I'm getting things done, especially things I've been meaning to do for a long time, it feels *weird* - even a little bit WRONG.
In the old story between the Tortoise and the Hare, the Hare never actually catches up - he just gets closer and closer until the difference between them is statistically null. What happens if I actually DO catch up? Will there be lightning bolts from the sky? Polar shifts? Will a darkened screen pop up whispering "The End"?
I am reminded of a day years ago when my plaster cast was cut off my broken arm. It was the summer I was nine years old. I had carried around the extra weight for so long that it felt like a part of me, and my arm seemed strangely weightless when it was gone. The void that being caught up will create actually disturbs me, as if I need to mourn the burdens of responsibility that are lifted when things get done.
Now what?
Rapidly accelerating as I'm approaching that blank canvas, the anticipation of impact is making me tense. I don't know 'now what'. But I feel like a breakthrough is imminent, a spiritual quickening makes my pulse race. In addition to the drive for organization, I've started cooking again.....and enjoying it.
I've had times like this in my life before, and while rarely self-destructive, they scare me a little bit - like a manic phase, where the energies that are flowing are possibly too powerful to control. I start doing unpredictable things - like cutting two feet off my hair, getting rid of things, or taking off in the middle of the night for destinations unknown. I once called in sick to work, and spent the entire day in a movie theatre. At these times, I crave change the way some people need caffiene or cigarettes.
In the Tarot, the Tower Card is often read as unexpected necessary change forced upon you by circumstances beyond your control.....yet despite their traumatic nature, they are ultimately good for you. A common image is the lightning bolt striking the tower, forcing the residents to jump.
Death, another 'change' card, is cyclical, like the waxing and waning moon, birth gives way to fullness, the golden glow of the Harvest Moon, then slowly dies out. The long cold winter seems lifeless, but it gives one time for reflection and rest. When spring returns, new life returns with it, edging out the old to make way for the new.
Will I get my time of reflection and rest? I desperately need it. While I still sleep physically every night, I am an insomniac in spirit. Even in my dreams, I'm busy. No rest for the wicked, they say....or is that the weary? It's one of the reasons I look forward to Biloxi - it was my place of rest when I lived down on the coast.
My To-Do list is complete for now......and will start fresh again tomorrow.
--BT
Six months ago, when I had my rear brakes done, I was told by the dealership that the front ones would need replacing as well. With winter arriving in a hurry, I ended up getting that done on Thursday, along with an oil change, tire rotation, and diagnostics on the lukewarm air coming out of my heater. Five hundred dollars later, with a forecast of a good thousand more for the heater core and other maintenance, I was able to cross a few big things off my long-term To-Do list. Firestone said I still had about 50% of my tread, and everything looked in good shape - good thing, as the snow began falling Friday night, little tufts of cotton tucking itself into the nooks and crannies, coating the grass and drifting across the windows. It continued during the daylight hours on Saturday until we had about 4-5 inches.
Despite the weather, I was crossing things off my To-Do list left and right. Ebay sale item put into the mail. Take shredding to Work. Complete several audits. Empty dishwasher. Do more dishes. Make a Costco run! Get a fill for my nails. Return the next day for a pedicure. Lampshades, vanity lightbulbs, handsoap, eggs, cottage cheese, lemon juice. I ran out of eggs a few days ago. Lampshades, on the other hand, I've been needing since June. One by one, I slayed the dragons before me.
Made it to the International Motorcycle Show this weekend, and bought SEVERAL items I'd been wanting to get - a pair of heated gloves, something to keep my neck warm on a winter ride, a rain suit, a book on good rides in the Pacific Northwest, and a Xmas gift for someone else. I still need a new pair of boots, a jacket & riding pants. The boots I have are difficult to get on, and I've been borrowing clothes for six months. But all in good time - I did look for those as well, but didn't see anything that stood out as something I *had* to buy.
A few days ago on the way home from work, I was reminiscing about one of my favorite resort hotels and casinos on the Mississippi Gulf Coast - the Beau Rivage. I *love* that place. One of my favorite things to do was to lay in bed and watch an X-Files marathon for three or four hours. I don't have a TV at home, so this is my little sinful indulgence. I've had good luck there in the past, but I also truly enjoy staying there. The rooms are luxurious, and being surrounded by the beauty and ambiance there is very relaxing. The Indian Casinos up here just don't have the same feel - many of them don't even have a hotel, and they cater to the local crowd who may come in to spend $20-50 on a Friday night.
With that having been on my mind, it was a bit of providence to find an email from them yesterday inviting me down and offering two complimentary nights accomodations - good on two different weeks that I already have vacation scheduled. Despite all the time I've had off recently, I could really use some R&R. I have $600 in travel vouchers, and a bunch of airline miles, so I started checking to see what a flight would run me. Turned out to be ten bucks (and some airline miles). Sweet! I'm there!
My bills are all paid - I put checks for the power bill, and my cell, into the mail on Saturday. I even started pulling out the Christmas decorations, and putting them up. I've done a ton of filing. Yet even as I'm getting things done, especially things I've been meaning to do for a long time, it feels *weird* - even a little bit WRONG.
In the old story between the Tortoise and the Hare, the Hare never actually catches up - he just gets closer and closer until the difference between them is statistically null. What happens if I actually DO catch up? Will there be lightning bolts from the sky? Polar shifts? Will a darkened screen pop up whispering "The End"?
I am reminded of a day years ago when my plaster cast was cut off my broken arm. It was the summer I was nine years old. I had carried around the extra weight for so long that it felt like a part of me, and my arm seemed strangely weightless when it was gone. The void that being caught up will create actually disturbs me, as if I need to mourn the burdens of responsibility that are lifted when things get done.
Now what?
Rapidly accelerating as I'm approaching that blank canvas, the anticipation of impact is making me tense. I don't know 'now what'. But I feel like a breakthrough is imminent, a spiritual quickening makes my pulse race. In addition to the drive for organization, I've started cooking again.....and enjoying it.
I've had times like this in my life before, and while rarely self-destructive, they scare me a little bit - like a manic phase, where the energies that are flowing are possibly too powerful to control. I start doing unpredictable things - like cutting two feet off my hair, getting rid of things, or taking off in the middle of the night for destinations unknown. I once called in sick to work, and spent the entire day in a movie theatre. At these times, I crave change the way some people need caffiene or cigarettes.
In the Tarot, the Tower Card is often read as unexpected necessary change forced upon you by circumstances beyond your control.....yet despite their traumatic nature, they are ultimately good for you. A common image is the lightning bolt striking the tower, forcing the residents to jump.
Death, another 'change' card, is cyclical, like the waxing and waning moon, birth gives way to fullness, the golden glow of the Harvest Moon, then slowly dies out. The long cold winter seems lifeless, but it gives one time for reflection and rest. When spring returns, new life returns with it, edging out the old to make way for the new.
Will I get my time of reflection and rest? I desperately need it. While I still sleep physically every night, I am an insomniac in spirit. Even in my dreams, I'm busy. No rest for the wicked, they say....or is that the weary? It's one of the reasons I look forward to Biloxi - it was my place of rest when I lived down on the coast.
My To-Do list is complete for now......and will start fresh again tomorrow.
--BT
Monday, November 26, 2007
Life Lessons At Another's Expense
Years ago, when I was a senior in high school, I had a friend named Kathy. We were good friends, hanging out at school together, going out driving around, talked on the phone all the time. We talked about everything - school, boys, college, family. I remember going over to her house one time, and it was her parents rule that she study until 6pm. We got there about 4 o'clock, and her mother pointed at her and indicated Kathy was to go to her room & study. She then looked at me, and pointed at Kathy's room letting me know that *I* would be studying until 6 o'clock as well. *laugh* Love and discipline were the house rules - and not just for family.
Then one day something happened, and I ended our friendship without an explanation or another word. She literally sat RIGHT behind me in math class, and I never spoke to her again. To this day, I have no idea whether or not my interpretation of the events was accurate, and I'm not sure it matters. I handled it badly, and for whatever damage I may have caused her, I regret that.
What did she do?
She touched my arm. Yes, literally - that's it.
At a time in life when I was young, inexperienced, unsure about where I would fit into the world of boys, attraction, and relationships, that simple act was enough to completely freak me out. As an awkward, emotionally immature teen who was severely overweight, and (who felt) very unattractive, this was NOT positive reinforcement for me. I wanted the attention of boys, and what I got was the complete opposite - I felt like I had completely screwed up, and this was just further proof that people of the opposite sex would never be attracted to me. I'd die an old maid, ugly and unwanted.
As the years went by, I continually thought about her and what I did. I missed our friendship, and the funny, happy girl I used to know. But it also made me think about what I *really* think about homosexuality, attraction, and love. Was she gay? I have no idea. I could easily have misinterpreted things- it's not like she tried to kiss me. But as I said before, it doesn't matter - even if she was a lesbian, she didn't do anything wrong. If I was right, she took a chance and faced rejection.
I'm not glad that it happened. But I'm glad that it happened when it did - a number of years later, several members of my family came out of the closet. By the time they did, I had already thought through my views on homosexuality, and was better able to handle it.
So what do I think about these things - what did I learn?
Attraction is a compliment. I know that there were a number of times I was attracted to boys/men who did not return my affections either - but what I was offering was the best of myself, which is the best compliment you can give someone. I've learned to appreciate that, even when the feeling wasn't mutual. It has allowed me to be more gracious with those who have approached me - both male & female.
Self Esteem Some men find me attractive; some don't. Whether I'm 150lbs or 250 lbs, I have found that some find me attractive and others don't. Who I am, and my value to the world is inside of me - it doesn't change because I happen to go through a phase where a number of people suddenly like or dislike me. Having that confidence inside has helped me survive experiences like the end of a relationship. My self-worth isn't dependent upon whether or not OTHER people love me, but upon whether or not I love myself.
I was talking about this recently with another DS'er, about whether losing weight had given me more confidence to set boundaries, and I don't think that changed for me.....but a lot of that was because I had already done a lot of work on figuring out who I am, and where I stand in this life.
Homosexuality I've decided that as long as everyone involved is consenting and an adult, I don't care what you do. Love is love. I believe it was St Augustine who declared "Love God and do as you please", for if you truly love God, what pleases you will please God. I'm no longer a Christian, but I tend to agree. I do not believe that God is an angry, petulant being waiting in the wings to strike people down for doing nothing more than falling in love.
My cousin is married to a wonderfully warm and caring woman, and yes - they are legally married. Her wife is Canadian, and gay marriage is legal in Canada. The first time I suspected she was gay, she had introduced me to a 'friend' and it crossed my mind that perhaps it was more than friendship. I didn't say anything as I figured it wasn't any of my business. If she wanted me to know, she'd tell me.
A year later, there were six of us going on a trip: My cousin, and his then-gf (now wife), my cousin and her 'friend', my brother and me. Since I suspected already that they were dating and didn't know how to tell me, I told them a story about an old boyfriend of mine who was bisexual, and let it be known that I was okay with that. (I was okay with his being attracted to both men and women - not that I would have been okay with him DATING other people.) As the trip progressed, they began to relax and let the true nature of their relationship come to the surface.
They were together for well over a decade, and I was glad to be able to share some of those years with them. Her ex-girlfriend was, and still is, an amazing woman - petite in size, but with innumerable strength. She recently came through a bout with ovarian cancer, fighting for survival and winning.
A number of years later, my cousin's father came out of the closet as well. Now, he was a minister in a conservative Christian church at the time, so needless to say, it was a life-changing decision. He lost his job. It eventually ended his marriage, and caused rifts with some of his family who were not accepting of his revelation. My father, also a minister, was asked during a job interview, about his views on gay ministers - and he said that God was free to call anyone he chose. He then talked about the decades of successful ministry that Jim had had, and how devastated he had been when that was taken away from him.
When he died, my aunt learned something interesting from the man he'd been partnered with for the last decade of his life - that some of the problems they had had in a straight marriage, Jim had also had in his gay relationship. Gay or straight, relationships are complicated and affected much more by the character and personality of the people involved rather than their gender.
I understand that homosexuality makes (some) people uncomfortable. It made ME uncomfortable the first time I experienced it first hand, and I wish that I *had* had more contact with gay people growing up. Perhaps then, I wouldn't have trashed a perfectly good friendship over it.
--BT
Then one day something happened, and I ended our friendship without an explanation or another word. She literally sat RIGHT behind me in math class, and I never spoke to her again. To this day, I have no idea whether or not my interpretation of the events was accurate, and I'm not sure it matters. I handled it badly, and for whatever damage I may have caused her, I regret that.
What did she do?
She touched my arm. Yes, literally - that's it.
At a time in life when I was young, inexperienced, unsure about where I would fit into the world of boys, attraction, and relationships, that simple act was enough to completely freak me out. As an awkward, emotionally immature teen who was severely overweight, and (who felt) very unattractive, this was NOT positive reinforcement for me. I wanted the attention of boys, and what I got was the complete opposite - I felt like I had completely screwed up, and this was just further proof that people of the opposite sex would never be attracted to me. I'd die an old maid, ugly and unwanted.
As the years went by, I continually thought about her and what I did. I missed our friendship, and the funny, happy girl I used to know. But it also made me think about what I *really* think about homosexuality, attraction, and love. Was she gay? I have no idea. I could easily have misinterpreted things- it's not like she tried to kiss me. But as I said before, it doesn't matter - even if she was a lesbian, she didn't do anything wrong. If I was right, she took a chance and faced rejection.
I'm not glad that it happened. But I'm glad that it happened when it did - a number of years later, several members of my family came out of the closet. By the time they did, I had already thought through my views on homosexuality, and was better able to handle it.
So what do I think about these things - what did I learn?
Attraction is a compliment. I know that there were a number of times I was attracted to boys/men who did not return my affections either - but what I was offering was the best of myself, which is the best compliment you can give someone. I've learned to appreciate that, even when the feeling wasn't mutual. It has allowed me to be more gracious with those who have approached me - both male & female.
Self Esteem Some men find me attractive; some don't. Whether I'm 150lbs or 250 lbs, I have found that some find me attractive and others don't. Who I am, and my value to the world is inside of me - it doesn't change because I happen to go through a phase where a number of people suddenly like or dislike me. Having that confidence inside has helped me survive experiences like the end of a relationship. My self-worth isn't dependent upon whether or not OTHER people love me, but upon whether or not I love myself.
I was talking about this recently with another DS'er, about whether losing weight had given me more confidence to set boundaries, and I don't think that changed for me.....but a lot of that was because I had already done a lot of work on figuring out who I am, and where I stand in this life.
Homosexuality I've decided that as long as everyone involved is consenting and an adult, I don't care what you do. Love is love. I believe it was St Augustine who declared "Love God and do as you please", for if you truly love God, what pleases you will please God. I'm no longer a Christian, but I tend to agree. I do not believe that God is an angry, petulant being waiting in the wings to strike people down for doing nothing more than falling in love.
My cousin is married to a wonderfully warm and caring woman, and yes - they are legally married. Her wife is Canadian, and gay marriage is legal in Canada. The first time I suspected she was gay, she had introduced me to a 'friend' and it crossed my mind that perhaps it was more than friendship. I didn't say anything as I figured it wasn't any of my business. If she wanted me to know, she'd tell me.
A year later, there were six of us going on a trip: My cousin, and his then-gf (now wife), my cousin and her 'friend', my brother and me. Since I suspected already that they were dating and didn't know how to tell me, I told them a story about an old boyfriend of mine who was bisexual, and let it be known that I was okay with that. (I was okay with his being attracted to both men and women - not that I would have been okay with him DATING other people.) As the trip progressed, they began to relax and let the true nature of their relationship come to the surface.
They were together for well over a decade, and I was glad to be able to share some of those years with them. Her ex-girlfriend was, and still is, an amazing woman - petite in size, but with innumerable strength. She recently came through a bout with ovarian cancer, fighting for survival and winning.
A number of years later, my cousin's father came out of the closet as well. Now, he was a minister in a conservative Christian church at the time, so needless to say, it was a life-changing decision. He lost his job. It eventually ended his marriage, and caused rifts with some of his family who were not accepting of his revelation. My father, also a minister, was asked during a job interview, about his views on gay ministers - and he said that God was free to call anyone he chose. He then talked about the decades of successful ministry that Jim had had, and how devastated he had been when that was taken away from him.
When he died, my aunt learned something interesting from the man he'd been partnered with for the last decade of his life - that some of the problems they had had in a straight marriage, Jim had also had in his gay relationship. Gay or straight, relationships are complicated and affected much more by the character and personality of the people involved rather than their gender.
I understand that homosexuality makes (some) people uncomfortable. It made ME uncomfortable the first time I experienced it first hand, and I wish that I *had* had more contact with gay people growing up. Perhaps then, I wouldn't have trashed a perfectly good friendship over it.
--BT
Thursday, November 22, 2007
Strange Findings
I have been going through papers for weeks now - another stack, five more boxes, a dozen bags or more of bits & pieces of documentation on how I've spent my life. Movie stubs from seven years ago, fast food receipts from Florida, scraps of paper with handwritten notes on them.
I carefully read each one, and make action items to handle it. Hmmm - Marie. Cool lady. I used to work with her 5-6 years ago, but lost track after I moved away. Left a message on her voice mail, hoping to reconnect. Wonder what she's up to?
Two left over visors for my stolen motorcycle helmet - put them up on Ebay to sell.
Taxes from 1990??? A 1992 lease from an Apartment in Texas.....including the little post-it-note stating the ferret was okay without a pet deposit. Old phone bills from 7 years ago, credit card accounts I closed years ago. All of these go into the "To Be Shredded" pile.
Two days ago I opened an envelope that I mailed to myself, containing a picture of my cat. I think I know the reason for that - the letter with it sounded like a prayer or protection spell. Then yesterday, I found one from my POB down in Florida, to myself at my house address - the contents??? A piece of cardboard with the number "26" on it. Nothing else. WTF?????
Happily one of the visors sells, but this is a holiday week so we're a little short-handed. I'm too late to drop it off at my nearest post office, so I look online for the nearest one that's open later. The postage label I printed is dated today, so have to get it out the door. As I walk in, there's Marie!! I haven't seen or talked to her in over five years and 24 hours after I find her phone# on a scrap of paper, I run into her.
Then there was the file from someone who must have been a customer......she had the same birthday as mine, and for reasons I no longer remember, actually faxed me her driver's license and social security card. Why I have been carrying this around in a box for over five years, I have no clue.
Then there was the letter from my brother who had passed away almost twenty years ago.....telling me that a lot of people cared about me, and that he was working on some issues. Three hours later, I found my letter to him that he was responding to, where I really laid him out.
Then there were two checks I found in unopened envelopes - one ironically enough from a time period when I was absolutely DESPERATE for money, and the universe sent me $250 which I ignored because I never opened it. One of those check is SEVEN YEARS OLD and never cashed.
I feel like ice floes are melting, and long-standing energy is coming to the surface. November is an energetic period in my life - both of my parents passed away in November. They always celebrated their anniversary on the Saturday after Thanksgiving. It was the Sunday after Thanksgiving that my first love and I broke up......the same day that Freddie Mercury died. I'm due to close on a loan on the last day of the month.
What else am I going to find as I dig under the surface? I would have made a lousy time-traveller - I can hardly keep the events of my life straight one day at a time. How on earth would I manage two or three days out of sequence??
It's nearly 4am on Thanksgiving morning, and I have a lot to be thankful for this year.....new love, a new promotion, friends and family, good health, and an odd drive for organization. Considering I found Wal-Mart receipts over ten years old, it should be apparent this....organizational thing.....is an anomaly.
We'll see how long it lasts and what other strange findings await me.
--BT
I carefully read each one, and make action items to handle it. Hmmm - Marie. Cool lady. I used to work with her 5-6 years ago, but lost track after I moved away. Left a message on her voice mail, hoping to reconnect. Wonder what she's up to?
Two left over visors for my stolen motorcycle helmet - put them up on Ebay to sell.
Taxes from 1990??? A 1992 lease from an Apartment in Texas.....including the little post-it-note stating the ferret was okay without a pet deposit. Old phone bills from 7 years ago, credit card accounts I closed years ago. All of these go into the "To Be Shredded" pile.
Two days ago I opened an envelope that I mailed to myself, containing a picture of my cat. I think I know the reason for that - the letter with it sounded like a prayer or protection spell. Then yesterday, I found one from my POB down in Florida, to myself at my house address - the contents??? A piece of cardboard with the number "26" on it. Nothing else. WTF?????
Happily one of the visors sells, but this is a holiday week so we're a little short-handed. I'm too late to drop it off at my nearest post office, so I look online for the nearest one that's open later. The postage label I printed is dated today, so have to get it out the door. As I walk in, there's Marie!! I haven't seen or talked to her in over five years and 24 hours after I find her phone# on a scrap of paper, I run into her.
Then there was the file from someone who must have been a customer......she had the same birthday as mine, and for reasons I no longer remember, actually faxed me her driver's license and social security card. Why I have been carrying this around in a box for over five years, I have no clue.
Then there was the letter from my brother who had passed away almost twenty years ago.....telling me that a lot of people cared about me, and that he was working on some issues. Three hours later, I found my letter to him that he was responding to, where I really laid him out.
Then there were two checks I found in unopened envelopes - one ironically enough from a time period when I was absolutely DESPERATE for money, and the universe sent me $250 which I ignored because I never opened it. One of those check is SEVEN YEARS OLD and never cashed.
I feel like ice floes are melting, and long-standing energy is coming to the surface. November is an energetic period in my life - both of my parents passed away in November. They always celebrated their anniversary on the Saturday after Thanksgiving. It was the Sunday after Thanksgiving that my first love and I broke up......the same day that Freddie Mercury died. I'm due to close on a loan on the last day of the month.
What else am I going to find as I dig under the surface? I would have made a lousy time-traveller - I can hardly keep the events of my life straight one day at a time. How on earth would I manage two or three days out of sequence??
It's nearly 4am on Thanksgiving morning, and I have a lot to be thankful for this year.....new love, a new promotion, friends and family, good health, and an odd drive for organization. Considering I found Wal-Mart receipts over ten years old, it should be apparent this....organizational thing.....is an anomaly.
We'll see how long it lasts and what other strange findings await me.
--BT
Saturday, November 17, 2007
What I Want For Christmas
That's an interesting question to pose to a witch. :) I'm instantly flashing back to that scene in Miss Congeniality where they ask Sandra Bullock what is the one most important thing our society needs, and she responds "Harsher punishment for parole violators, Stan". When the crickets chirp, she leans in again "AND.......World Peace!", as the crowd goes wild! *lol*
What *DOES* a pagan want for Christmas, and why is this even a question? Well, the second half is easier to answer than the first. Everybody else is (celebrating Xmas), so even though I changed ships spiritually, the warm family traditions that surround this holiday are still a fond and important part of our rituals. It's actually one of my favorite seasons......Christmas Carols, the smell of pumpkin & ginger spice, peppermint and pine. It's also the one time of year when people will LET you give them something and NOT ask "what is this for?".
My family was one of those growing up that had Santa and all eight reindeer flying around our living room. We spent one evening with the paint-by-numbers ornaments, and that is STILL one of my fondest memories of our family as a child. (I got purple, and THAT is why there is a purple puppy on my tree! Years later, one of the laundry detergent commercials had a little kid asking his mom if it would help get purple paint off the puppy, and I laughed and laughed.)
Many Christmas traditions have pagan origins anyway, so I get to celebrate MY religion AND theirs at the same time. It's a beautiful thing. Winter Solstice is about the birth of the Sun King, and Jesus is a perfect example of that. Mind you, I have no problem with Christianity or its tenants....it's just that my beliefs expanded beyond what would fit under that label, and it wasn't the right label anymore. I still have the family creche, and willingly put it out for all to see.
So.....what do I want? You know, for the first time in a long time, I actually HAVE answers to that question.
A Cashmere Sweater! - Cashmere is a delightfully soft and luxurious fabric reserved for the beautiful people it seems. For years, I have wanted a cashmere turtleneck sweater, only to find they didn't come in plus sizes. Now that I'm a small or a medium, I can finally fulfill this wish! I love the feel of it, and the elegance. Cream, black, red, purple, blue, grey, petal pink or harvest gold - it doesn't really matter. I'd probably wear it every day even if it were chartreuse.
A Stereo or a Boombox. My old stereo broke down in Florida, and I never replaced it. As I settle into my new home, ever so slowly but surely, I miss filling it with the sounds of music. Nothing big - my brother is the true audiophile in the family. I'd settle for something that sounds better than the Itunes playing out of my laptop.
A Bluetooth Headset for my phone. I am THAT WOMAN that you hate on the roadways who is constantly on the phone. I admit it! Now, I don't read the newspaper, or put on mascara in the car, but colour me guilty when it comes to the cell phone. Come January 1st, however, I will no longer be allowed to do so without a handsfree device.
Black Boots! I have been looking....and looking.....and looking. I have an idea of the feel of what I want. Feminine, knee-high, 2-3" of heel, solid black, but with some unique accent, zip up the side, leather, looks good, feels good, that will fit over my ankle. As small as I am, I have inherited the good Prussian stock ankles of my ancestors. Not just any boot will do. I want to be able to wear it with skirts or pants. I've looked everywhere from Payless to Nordstrom, and have only found two pairs I even wanted to try on.
DVD's - I have a bunch of VHS tapes that I would like to replace with DVD's so that I only need ONE machine to play them. I've got the list written down, and have been scouting Half-Price Books for replacements.
Perfume - As I finally unpack all of my goods, I'm finding that I have a ton of nearly empty bottles of perfume. I love scents, and wear them everywhere, including to bed. As I've started braving the malls again this fall, I find myself drawn to the fragrance aisles, looking for new adventures.
Sheet Music for the Piano - I finally have a piano again, after over twenty years without one, and I have nothing new to play. All the music I have memorized was from junior high or before. We used to have a Reader's Digest collection of "popular music" which included songs from the 50's, 60's and 70's - that's the type of thing I want, so I can pick and choose what I want to play.
There are other things I need, and that would probably be useful, but they are more afterthoughts. A gas can and jumper cables for my car. More CDs. Several years ago, over half my CD collection was stolen and I have yet to replace them all. I'm missing some tools from my toolbox, and a number of items from my kitchenware. I used to have a very well stocked kitchen for a woman who doesn't cook. Not anymore. Several boxes of items went missing in the move - probably ended up in Rhode Island or something.
I need riding gear for my motorcycle as well, but I haven't seen anything yet that really jumped out and said "buy me". There's a show coming up in January which should have some good things.....hopefully then, I'll see something I can't live without. Like my gloves; Love my helmet. Need something to protect me against both freezing cold and road rash of the jacket & pant variety.
Riding Boots are my biggest need there - riding gear for a petite woman with small feet & big ankles isn't on the agenda of most designers. I'm currently using a pair of Kid Size boots, but they can be a pain to put on. Were I a men's size 13, I'd have a much easier time finding things.
Anything else? Oh yes......
"AND.....World Peace!"
--BT
What *DOES* a pagan want for Christmas, and why is this even a question? Well, the second half is easier to answer than the first. Everybody else is (celebrating Xmas), so even though I changed ships spiritually, the warm family traditions that surround this holiday are still a fond and important part of our rituals. It's actually one of my favorite seasons......Christmas Carols, the smell of pumpkin & ginger spice, peppermint and pine. It's also the one time of year when people will LET you give them something and NOT ask "what is this for?".
My family was one of those growing up that had Santa and all eight reindeer flying around our living room. We spent one evening with the paint-by-numbers ornaments, and that is STILL one of my fondest memories of our family as a child. (I got purple, and THAT is why there is a purple puppy on my tree! Years later, one of the laundry detergent commercials had a little kid asking his mom if it would help get purple paint off the puppy, and I laughed and laughed.)
Many Christmas traditions have pagan origins anyway, so I get to celebrate MY religion AND theirs at the same time. It's a beautiful thing. Winter Solstice is about the birth of the Sun King, and Jesus is a perfect example of that. Mind you, I have no problem with Christianity or its tenants....it's just that my beliefs expanded beyond what would fit under that label, and it wasn't the right label anymore. I still have the family creche, and willingly put it out for all to see.
So.....what do I want? You know, for the first time in a long time, I actually HAVE answers to that question.
A Cashmere Sweater! - Cashmere is a delightfully soft and luxurious fabric reserved for the beautiful people it seems. For years, I have wanted a cashmere turtleneck sweater, only to find they didn't come in plus sizes. Now that I'm a small or a medium, I can finally fulfill this wish! I love the feel of it, and the elegance. Cream, black, red, purple, blue, grey, petal pink or harvest gold - it doesn't really matter. I'd probably wear it every day even if it were chartreuse. A Stereo or a Boombox. My old stereo broke down in Florida, and I never replaced it. As I settle into my new home, ever so slowly but surely, I miss filling it with the sounds of music. Nothing big - my brother is the true audiophile in the family. I'd settle for something that sounds better than the Itunes playing out of my laptop.
A Bluetooth Headset for my phone. I am THAT WOMAN that you hate on the roadways who is constantly on the phone. I admit it! Now, I don't read the newspaper, or put on mascara in the car, but colour me guilty when it comes to the cell phone. Come January 1st, however, I will no longer be allowed to do so without a handsfree device.
Black Boots! I have been looking....and looking.....and looking. I have an idea of the feel of what I want. Feminine, knee-high, 2-3" of heel, solid black, but with some unique accent, zip up the side, leather, looks good, feels good, that will fit over my ankle. As small as I am, I have inherited the good Prussian stock ankles of my ancestors. Not just any boot will do. I want to be able to wear it with skirts or pants. I've looked everywhere from Payless to Nordstrom, and have only found two pairs I even wanted to try on.
DVD's - I have a bunch of VHS tapes that I would like to replace with DVD's so that I only need ONE machine to play them. I've got the list written down, and have been scouting Half-Price Books for replacements.
Perfume - As I finally unpack all of my goods, I'm finding that I have a ton of nearly empty bottles of perfume. I love scents, and wear them everywhere, including to bed. As I've started braving the malls again this fall, I find myself drawn to the fragrance aisles, looking for new adventures.
Sheet Music for the Piano - I finally have a piano again, after over twenty years without one, and I have nothing new to play. All the music I have memorized was from junior high or before. We used to have a Reader's Digest collection of "popular music" which included songs from the 50's, 60's and 70's - that's the type of thing I want, so I can pick and choose what I want to play. There are other things I need, and that would probably be useful, but they are more afterthoughts. A gas can and jumper cables for my car. More CDs. Several years ago, over half my CD collection was stolen and I have yet to replace them all. I'm missing some tools from my toolbox, and a number of items from my kitchenware. I used to have a very well stocked kitchen for a woman who doesn't cook. Not anymore. Several boxes of items went missing in the move - probably ended up in Rhode Island or something.
I need riding gear for my motorcycle as well, but I haven't seen anything yet that really jumped out and said "buy me". There's a show coming up in January which should have some good things.....hopefully then, I'll see something I can't live without. Like my gloves; Love my helmet. Need something to protect me against both freezing cold and road rash of the jacket & pant variety.
Riding Boots are my biggest need there - riding gear for a petite woman with small feet & big ankles isn't on the agenda of most designers. I'm currently using a pair of Kid Size boots, but they can be a pain to put on. Were I a men's size 13, I'd have a much easier time finding things.
Anything else? Oh yes......
"AND.....World Peace!"
--BT
Wednesday, November 7, 2007
HobNobbing From The Cheap Seats
A year ago I stumbled onto a project which has turned out to be the magic bullet when it comes to my career. Literally, I was in a new position for a month, and they sent out an email asking if anyone was interested in working off the phones.
I think my response was "Don't know if I've been here long enough to be considered, but I'd be interested". Apparently mine was the 2nd response they got, because two of us newbies got assigned to it, and I was given the position of "backup". I'm glad I was....because it freed up several hours a day for me to work on projects, and one of those projects has led me where I am today.
And where is that?
Over the last year, I have been the acting project manager developing a piece of software to automate & streamline a complex, labor-intensive communication process. In August of this year, in recognition of that, I was promoted to a first level Team Manager. Now this is typically a front-line position, watching over a herd of cats, errr...employees, and making sure that certain metrics get met. And it is that, to be sure, but for me, it is so much more.
This project has come with me, and we're now looking at expanding it to levels I had never imagined a year ago. I've already demo'd this for my Senior Manager and Director (people two and three levels above me), and the Director had indicated that he'd like me to show it to the VP and the head of Customer Service. Today, my Senior Manager emails me, asking me to call him on his cell. I laughed for a moment, as he genuinely expects that I have that number already.
Apparently word has gotten out, and other high level executives are interested in my program, and what it can do for ALL of our call centers. So we're going to set up a demo for them as well. These people have funding connections, so if they like what they see, budgeting money could come pouring in our direction.
I work for a VERY large corporation, with hundreds of thousands of employees. I have to wonder how many front line managers ever even talk to the level of executives that are becoming more and more prevalent on my calendar. As you can imagine, this is a lot more high profile than I ever expected to be, and very important to my chain of command.
It's exciting, and kind of scary. It's kind of like riding a shooting star and wondering where it will lead.
--BT
I think my response was "Don't know if I've been here long enough to be considered, but I'd be interested". Apparently mine was the 2nd response they got, because two of us newbies got assigned to it, and I was given the position of "backup". I'm glad I was....because it freed up several hours a day for me to work on projects, and one of those projects has led me where I am today.
And where is that?
Over the last year, I have been the acting project manager developing a piece of software to automate & streamline a complex, labor-intensive communication process. In August of this year, in recognition of that, I was promoted to a first level Team Manager. Now this is typically a front-line position, watching over a herd of cats, errr...employees, and making sure that certain metrics get met. And it is that, to be sure, but for me, it is so much more.
This project has come with me, and we're now looking at expanding it to levels I had never imagined a year ago. I've already demo'd this for my Senior Manager and Director (people two and three levels above me), and the Director had indicated that he'd like me to show it to the VP and the head of Customer Service. Today, my Senior Manager emails me, asking me to call him on his cell. I laughed for a moment, as he genuinely expects that I have that number already.
Apparently word has gotten out, and other high level executives are interested in my program, and what it can do for ALL of our call centers. So we're going to set up a demo for them as well. These people have funding connections, so if they like what they see, budgeting money could come pouring in our direction.
I work for a VERY large corporation, with hundreds of thousands of employees. I have to wonder how many front line managers ever even talk to the level of executives that are becoming more and more prevalent on my calendar. As you can imagine, this is a lot more high profile than I ever expected to be, and very important to my chain of command.
It's exciting, and kind of scary. It's kind of like riding a shooting star and wondering where it will lead.
--BT
Saturday, November 3, 2007
Grounded
If you could see my kitchen, you'd see candy bars (full size) in one cupboard, mega size pudding cups above it, a half gallon of Peppermint Ice Cream in the freezer, and soft chewy caramels on the light apple green CD storage box on the counter. On top of the fridge are two bags of chips - Cheetos Twisters and Lays potato chips. Last night, I had a half rack of ribs and fried shrimp from TGIFridays. Today it was mac & cheese, with a bacon cheeseburger and pumpkin cheesecake for lunch. Not exactly the portrait of a woman on a diet.
So I find it strange that I've lost ten pounds over the course of the last six months. I know what it's from - two years ago I had weight loss surgery, but I really thought I was done. I started buying better clothes, because I figured I would stay that size, yet I find I'm shrinking again.
As of this morning, I weighed 142.4 lbs, and I'm having a bit of trouble wrapping my mind around it. For over a decade, I weighed around 240, so I keep (mentally) wanted to make that first digit a 2. The last time I was about this weight was JUNIOR HIGH SCHOOL - I'm regressing in age, and it's a little disconcerting.
This evening I realized that I am only FOUR pounds away from a magical number - I'll literally be half my old weight. I once was 277, and in 4 more pounds, I'll have LOST 138.5 lbs and WEIGH 138.5 lbs.
What's funny is that I once worried that I wouldn't feel *solid* or grounded at a normal weight.....like somehow gravity would release its hold on me a little, and I'd have trouble sticking to the ground. Yet I'm here, as much earth bound as I've always been, with no temptation to blow away in a stiff breeze.
I'm home alone tonight - me and the cat, and I'm rather content to stay here. I've got laundry going in the other room, and books to catch up on. Earlier this afternoon, my brother and I went for a delightful ride - down Novelty Hill Road, over to Cherry Hill area. The weather is warm for this time of year, and the skies were cloudy, but cooperative.
We ended up riding past the Nestle Regional Training Center, which always makes me laugh. It's out in farm country, nestled in a curve along a meandering road with quite a view of nature. There's not a hotel or other business for miles! Who are they training, and where do they come from? How the heck are they supposed to find this place out in the middle of nowhere? I'm just picturing a treasure map with a big X on it!
My boyfriend is on nights for a month, which he is most definitely NOT accustomed to, so he's home sleeping. Makes me laugh - I worked graveyard for about fifteen years, and loved it. But not everyone is cut out for it. He stares at me in disbelief when I tell him that I once waited a year and a half for a graveyard position to open up!
My laundry is done, and so am I - for now.
--BT
So I find it strange that I've lost ten pounds over the course of the last six months. I know what it's from - two years ago I had weight loss surgery, but I really thought I was done. I started buying better clothes, because I figured I would stay that size, yet I find I'm shrinking again.
As of this morning, I weighed 142.4 lbs, and I'm having a bit of trouble wrapping my mind around it. For over a decade, I weighed around 240, so I keep (mentally) wanted to make that first digit a 2. The last time I was about this weight was JUNIOR HIGH SCHOOL - I'm regressing in age, and it's a little disconcerting.
This evening I realized that I am only FOUR pounds away from a magical number - I'll literally be half my old weight. I once was 277, and in 4 more pounds, I'll have LOST 138.5 lbs and WEIGH 138.5 lbs.
What's funny is that I once worried that I wouldn't feel *solid* or grounded at a normal weight.....like somehow gravity would release its hold on me a little, and I'd have trouble sticking to the ground. Yet I'm here, as much earth bound as I've always been, with no temptation to blow away in a stiff breeze.
I'm home alone tonight - me and the cat, and I'm rather content to stay here. I've got laundry going in the other room, and books to catch up on. Earlier this afternoon, my brother and I went for a delightful ride - down Novelty Hill Road, over to Cherry Hill area. The weather is warm for this time of year, and the skies were cloudy, but cooperative.
We ended up riding past the Nestle Regional Training Center, which always makes me laugh. It's out in farm country, nestled in a curve along a meandering road with quite a view of nature. There's not a hotel or other business for miles! Who are they training, and where do they come from? How the heck are they supposed to find this place out in the middle of nowhere? I'm just picturing a treasure map with a big X on it!
My boyfriend is on nights for a month, which he is most definitely NOT accustomed to, so he's home sleeping. Makes me laugh - I worked graveyard for about fifteen years, and loved it. But not everyone is cut out for it. He stares at me in disbelief when I tell him that I once waited a year and a half for a graveyard position to open up!
My laundry is done, and so am I - for now.
--BT
Saturday, October 27, 2007
The Midnight Hour And Beyond
There's something about the midnight hour and beyond which is made for rearranging furniture. It seems like my To-Do list is filled with things that need to get done, and is interrupted occasionally by bursts of late night spontaneous combustion. Where does life fall on your Things To Do list?
Last night I came home about 10:30pm with the intention of going to bed which I did.....eventually. But not before 5am. Around midnight I decided to put together the bookcase which has been occupying the middle of my living room since the middle of September - obviously a high priority project that couldn't wait any longer. God only knows why.
It was a mostly quiet endeavor that went fairly smoothly. The rhythm and excitement of watching it come together overshadowed the hour, making me forget it was the middle of the night. That is, until I was about 40 nails in to a 50 nail project of putting the back on it, and it occurred to me that *POUNDPOUNDPOUNDPOUNDPOUND* is probably NOT what my neighbor wanted to hear at 1am. But as I only had 10 more nails to go, I said to hell with it, and finished the job.
Of course, with a new six foot tall, five shelf, Harvest Cherry bookcase birthed into existence, I couldn't simply lay down and go to sleep, now could I??? Of course not. Eight boxes, and four hours later, I had unearthed, unloaded, unpacked and uncovered enough books to fill this bookcase and another one. (Except....I don't *have* another one. Let me put that on my to-do list) Iris Johansen, Dorothy Gilman, Agathie Christie, Arturo Perez-Reverte, Clive Cussler, Dick Francis, JK Rowling all rose up to greet me. Books in French goes over there. Journals, both virgin and experienced, went into the closet. Racy stuff stays in the bedroom, but let's not put the unread books on a low shelf or they shall remain unread.
Why do I have two copies of HP and the Half-Blood Prince? In hardback? I found two of my three copies of The Golden Hawk by Frank Yerby. What's hiding behind my computer desk - oh THERE are the books I bought at the Friends of Seattle sale. Tucked into a black file were books I brought with me from Florida. Little boxes dated 11/2005 remind me how much of my reading tastes I shared with my father. Seeing my books finally come into the light is like finally catching my breath after a hard run. The words soothe my nerves even from behind their jagged, worn covers. I know they are there, and for now, that's enough. I need that, especially now.
I am at a cross-roads of sorts right now. I have been looking for a roommate for a number of months now, with no success. The few people I've had respond to me were unsuitable for a variety of reasons, some scary, others just didn't fit. Even the ones I met decided against me/my place for their own reasons. Financially I'm in a downward spiral. I cannot afford to continue living the way I'm living - SOMETHING has got to change in the next 4-6 months or I will be in dire straights.
Since the universe has not seen fit to send a suitable roommate my way, I need to look at other options. I recently was promoted, which increased my income.....but not enough to compensate for the negative cash flow I have going on. So, what are my choices from here?
Influxes of cash: Bonuses, a 2nd job, tax returns. These would all be good, but all would be a temporary band aid on the problem. I've done the 60 hour weeks before, and it was hell. I've just been promoted 2 months ago, so another promotion is not likely in the next 4-6 months. A roommate would be better as it would be a continuous source of money which would not require a heavy commitment of time on my part.
Reducing my expenses: This is the area I'm looking at now. My main issue is that the gap is big......about $1000 a month, which I'm currently supplementing out of savings. So again, small measures will help, but reducing my grocery bill by $50 is really nothing compared to the issue at hand.
I think where this is leading me is to refinancing my home and cashing out some of my equity to pay off debts. That is really the only option that is going to have a significant enough effect on my income/outgo to make a difference, other than a roommate. I really did NOT want to do this, as I would like to sell my home in a year and a half or two years and don't want to be sucking equity out of my home prior to doing so. But neither do I want to foreclose or sell prematurely (and pay Capital Gains).
I have a nice place. It's freshly painted, brand new carpet. The room available is big - eleven by thirteen - so I find it really odd that no one wants to move in. It's really quite charming here, especially now. As summer slipped past, the leaves are changing and what little warmth we had has faded into my favorite season. I love the smells of Autumn - the winds that send the birds away, burning leaves and the warmth & spice of harvest time. The cool crisp days bite back a little like a Granny Smith Apple, and I'm torn still about whether or not to fully occupy my home. Do I take over the 2nd bedroom and commit to the path of refinancing, or do I keep it reserved for someone interesting to come into my life? Decisions, decisions.
I've had a number of great roommates in the past, and have maintained friendships with quite a few. One married what became my best friend. Another is still a close friend over a decade later, whom I see weekly at pool league. A third still keeps in touch, and helps me practice my French. Still another texts me intermittently with updates on her life.
So yes, while there is a strong financial incentive, a roommate for me is more than just business. It has brought some interesting people and experiences into my life, and I love that. My loan officer isn't going to poach a fish in the dishwasher or teach me how to play pool. I tend to be a loner and a homebody, so it also provides human interaction within the walls of my sanctuary.
One big obstacle to refinancing is the paperwork involved. I have been living in limbo for two years, with financial papers drifting into whatever corner became most convenient. I have a filing cabinet now, and have been working on getting things organized, but as of now - they are still a mess. I still have two tax returns that need to be filed, but the paperwork is, uhm, somewhere. Or rather, everywhere. I'm missing documents, and have several areas of question as well on how to handle certain things. They both involve refunds, so penalties aren't the issue - it's just gathering it all together and getting it done. THAT is easier said than done.
Many of the steps towards that goal are items on my To-Do list, and many have gotten done.....getting a filing cabinet, buying rails, finding files, gathering unread mail. Sometimes I feel as if my To-Do list is never ending, but I am making progress, slowly but surely.
I know I could do both refi & get a roommate, and perhaps that is the lesson here....we'll see. For now, I am trying to do the little things that I can do to prepare - filing, sorting paperwork, unpacking boxes and clearing space to breathe....and leaving the 2nd bedroom available for now.
Getting the bookcase together may seem counter-productive, but clearing eight boxes of books out of my bedroom frees up mental energy as well as space. I try to remember that when I wake up at 3am with an urgent desire to rearrange furniture. I don't always understand WHY it needs to be done at that hour, but I'm sure it won't be the last.
I'm a night owl by nature, and I love the strength and solitude that comes with the midnight hour and beyond. The disturbances of the daylight hours are silenced by laws and by nature - solicitors are home in bed, and acquaintances think twice before coming to call. These hours are reserved for more important things in life - a time for sleep, for love and romance, for reading and quiet conversations, and taking care of things that need to get done.
As always, I look forward to the Midnight Hour and beyond....but for tonight, I hope all it brings me is sleep. The furniture, I hope, can wait until tomorrow.
--BT
Last night I came home about 10:30pm with the intention of going to bed which I did.....eventually. But not before 5am. Around midnight I decided to put together the bookcase which has been occupying the middle of my living room since the middle of September - obviously a high priority project that couldn't wait any longer. God only knows why.
It was a mostly quiet endeavor that went fairly smoothly. The rhythm and excitement of watching it come together overshadowed the hour, making me forget it was the middle of the night. That is, until I was about 40 nails in to a 50 nail project of putting the back on it, and it occurred to me that *POUNDPOUNDPOUNDPOUNDPOUND* is probably NOT what my neighbor wanted to hear at 1am. But as I only had 10 more nails to go, I said to hell with it, and finished the job.
Of course, with a new six foot tall, five shelf, Harvest Cherry bookcase birthed into existence, I couldn't simply lay down and go to sleep, now could I??? Of course not. Eight boxes, and four hours later, I had unearthed, unloaded, unpacked and uncovered enough books to fill this bookcase and another one. (Except....I don't *have* another one. Let me put that on my to-do list) Iris Johansen, Dorothy Gilman, Agathie Christie, Arturo Perez-Reverte, Clive Cussler, Dick Francis, JK Rowling all rose up to greet me. Books in French goes over there. Journals, both virgin and experienced, went into the closet. Racy stuff stays in the bedroom, but let's not put the unread books on a low shelf or they shall remain unread.
Why do I have two copies of HP and the Half-Blood Prince? In hardback? I found two of my three copies of The Golden Hawk by Frank Yerby. What's hiding behind my computer desk - oh THERE are the books I bought at the Friends of Seattle sale. Tucked into a black file were books I brought with me from Florida. Little boxes dated 11/2005 remind me how much of my reading tastes I shared with my father. Seeing my books finally come into the light is like finally catching my breath after a hard run. The words soothe my nerves even from behind their jagged, worn covers. I know they are there, and for now, that's enough. I need that, especially now.
I am at a cross-roads of sorts right now. I have been looking for a roommate for a number of months now, with no success. The few people I've had respond to me were unsuitable for a variety of reasons, some scary, others just didn't fit. Even the ones I met decided against me/my place for their own reasons. Financially I'm in a downward spiral. I cannot afford to continue living the way I'm living - SOMETHING has got to change in the next 4-6 months or I will be in dire straights.
Since the universe has not seen fit to send a suitable roommate my way, I need to look at other options. I recently was promoted, which increased my income.....but not enough to compensate for the negative cash flow I have going on. So, what are my choices from here?
Influxes of cash: Bonuses, a 2nd job, tax returns. These would all be good, but all would be a temporary band aid on the problem. I've done the 60 hour weeks before, and it was hell. I've just been promoted 2 months ago, so another promotion is not likely in the next 4-6 months. A roommate would be better as it would be a continuous source of money which would not require a heavy commitment of time on my part.
Reducing my expenses: This is the area I'm looking at now. My main issue is that the gap is big......about $1000 a month, which I'm currently supplementing out of savings. So again, small measures will help, but reducing my grocery bill by $50 is really nothing compared to the issue at hand.
I think where this is leading me is to refinancing my home and cashing out some of my equity to pay off debts. That is really the only option that is going to have a significant enough effect on my income/outgo to make a difference, other than a roommate. I really did NOT want to do this, as I would like to sell my home in a year and a half or two years and don't want to be sucking equity out of my home prior to doing so. But neither do I want to foreclose or sell prematurely (and pay Capital Gains).
I have a nice place. It's freshly painted, brand new carpet. The room available is big - eleven by thirteen - so I find it really odd that no one wants to move in. It's really quite charming here, especially now. As summer slipped past, the leaves are changing and what little warmth we had has faded into my favorite season. I love the smells of Autumn - the winds that send the birds away, burning leaves and the warmth & spice of harvest time. The cool crisp days bite back a little like a Granny Smith Apple, and I'm torn still about whether or not to fully occupy my home. Do I take over the 2nd bedroom and commit to the path of refinancing, or do I keep it reserved for someone interesting to come into my life? Decisions, decisions.
I've had a number of great roommates in the past, and have maintained friendships with quite a few. One married what became my best friend. Another is still a close friend over a decade later, whom I see weekly at pool league. A third still keeps in touch, and helps me practice my French. Still another texts me intermittently with updates on her life.
So yes, while there is a strong financial incentive, a roommate for me is more than just business. It has brought some interesting people and experiences into my life, and I love that. My loan officer isn't going to poach a fish in the dishwasher or teach me how to play pool. I tend to be a loner and a homebody, so it also provides human interaction within the walls of my sanctuary.
One big obstacle to refinancing is the paperwork involved. I have been living in limbo for two years, with financial papers drifting into whatever corner became most convenient. I have a filing cabinet now, and have been working on getting things organized, but as of now - they are still a mess. I still have two tax returns that need to be filed, but the paperwork is, uhm, somewhere. Or rather, everywhere. I'm missing documents, and have several areas of question as well on how to handle certain things. They both involve refunds, so penalties aren't the issue - it's just gathering it all together and getting it done. THAT is easier said than done.
Many of the steps towards that goal are items on my To-Do list, and many have gotten done.....getting a filing cabinet, buying rails, finding files, gathering unread mail. Sometimes I feel as if my To-Do list is never ending, but I am making progress, slowly but surely.
I know I could do both refi & get a roommate, and perhaps that is the lesson here....we'll see. For now, I am trying to do the little things that I can do to prepare - filing, sorting paperwork, unpacking boxes and clearing space to breathe....and leaving the 2nd bedroom available for now.
Getting the bookcase together may seem counter-productive, but clearing eight boxes of books out of my bedroom frees up mental energy as well as space. I try to remember that when I wake up at 3am with an urgent desire to rearrange furniture. I don't always understand WHY it needs to be done at that hour, but I'm sure it won't be the last.
I'm a night owl by nature, and I love the strength and solitude that comes with the midnight hour and beyond. The disturbances of the daylight hours are silenced by laws and by nature - solicitors are home in bed, and acquaintances think twice before coming to call. These hours are reserved for more important things in life - a time for sleep, for love and romance, for reading and quiet conversations, and taking care of things that need to get done.
As always, I look forward to the Midnight Hour and beyond....but for tonight, I hope all it brings me is sleep. The furniture, I hope, can wait until tomorrow.
--BT
Friday, September 21, 2007
Newport News
What a summer this has been. So many changes in a single season.
I put over 750 miles on my bike over Labor Day weekend - double the amount of miles I had put on there since JUNE when I bought the bike My boyfriend says I'm a natural long-distance rider, and he thinks I could out ride him. We were originally going to leave that Friday night, but things ran late, it was raining, I wasn't feeling confident on the bike (in the rain, on grooved pavement, at night, after being up 16 hours already). Lot of good reasons for getting a good night's sleep, and heading off in the morning.
About 10am, we finally got on our way - from Seattle first to Aberdeen, and then straight down 101 to Newport, Oregon. The subsequent trip on paper was supposed to take about 8 hours......but we added in some unexpected detours, long stops to warm my hands, dinner here, tank of gas there, the occasional chat with the local police department, and nineteen hours later we arrived at our hotel. Yes - that's 5am. The next day I was fine - no soreness at all. (One secret I learned - take some Ibuprofen before we ride, and it helps to keep the muscles relaxed while riding).
My boyfriend had installed headsets in our helmets so we could talk to each other, and listen to our Ipods while we rode. Made for a very pleasant ride - at least as long as the batteries held out. Crossing into Oregon, we rode over the longest bridge I've seen in a long time - maybe 7 miles long? It was awesome.
Driving down a fifty mile stretch of backwoods country highway at night without passing an open restaurant or gas station was a little unnerving....especially since I get about 100 miles to a tank of gas. Now, mind you - I'm only putting in 1.5 to 2 gallons at a time, so that's quite a bargain. But still - when the towns I've heard of are locked up tight, I'm not holding my breath for the NEXT wide spot in the road.
Around four in the morning, we finally got pointed in the direction of a gas station by a sheriff who saw us pulled over. We got gas, and hot chocolate, and pulled out of the station to continue down to Newport, when the flashing lights went off behind us. Did you turn left, right and left just a minute ago? What? No - we came straight out of the gas station and turned left. Apparently we angled across a one-way street, and it was enough of an excuse for the local gendarmes to check us out.
Fortunately we both have motorcycle endorsements and insurance, which are required in the state of Oregon, and after confirming (four or five times) that we had NOT been drinking, we were on our merry way again.
Our hotel was a stone's throw from the ocean, and we spent Sunday afternoon wandering around the little seaside village, visiting lighthouses, and other landmarks in the area. I got up about 9:30am long enough to grab some breakfast, and head back to bed. That evening, we stopped in a lovely little restaurant for dinner - very romantic, and the owner actually stayed open an extra hour to accommodate us. In fact, she was encouraging us to stay right up until the end. She said she lived about 40 miles south of that town, and enjoyed being in the area.
The fog rolled in Monday morning, but cleared as we headed away from the coast. We finally left around 2pm, again expecting about a six hour ride home (up I-5 - so mostly freeway). It was then we took one of the most delightful wrong turns of our trip......the directions SAID turn right at 34, which we did....but they meant the other 34. We passed through one little stretch of road perhaps two miles long that had at least ten hairpin turns. And then we just *had* to turn around and go back through it. What a shame ;)
There were a few things that were a little unnerving. As we hit Centralia, the rain storms started to pour. We have waterproof gear, but I haven't ridden in the rain much, certainly not on the freeway, at night, passing semi's, through construction, and having been up all day. Funny...aren't these the exact conditions I didn't want to ride in two days ago?
At one point, my helmet fogged up, and I was having trouble raising my visor to clear it. I'm in the middle of a construction zone, the police have a lane blocked off with flares, and RIGHT as I'm pulling off to the shoulder, the headset dies - so I'm unable to tell my beau what's going on. It took us about 30 minutes of backtracking and waiting to catch up with each other again - we finally got home about 2:30am.....and I had to be at work by 8:30am.
I was one tired puppy, but it was worth it. Oh - and then I stopped by my bank to pull out some cash, and discovered that my "unusual activity" over the weekend had flagged my account as potential fraud so they shut my debit card off. After a rather lengthy discussion with the fraud department, who advised me that I should have told them I'd be traveling, they reactivated it.
I calmly explained to them that in the last year I had been to Tampa, Miami, Biloxi, Pensacola, Dallas, Houston, Omaha, and southern California, and they hadn't ONCE been concerned. But I take a motorcycle trip to OREGON and suddenly I'm red-flagged? Is it really that unusual for someone in Seattle to go to Oregon??? If someone really wants fifty bucks worth of gas, two dollars at a time, they can HAVE it. I would MUCH prefer that they question the FIVE HUNDRED DOLLAR cash withdrawals at the CASINO than the $50 worth of gas I bought over Labor Day.
*shakinghead* Bureaucrats.
All in all though - it was a great trip.
--BT
I put over 750 miles on my bike over Labor Day weekend - double the amount of miles I had put on there since JUNE when I bought the bike My boyfriend says I'm a natural long-distance rider, and he thinks I could out ride him. We were originally going to leave that Friday night, but things ran late, it was raining, I wasn't feeling confident on the bike (in the rain, on grooved pavement, at night, after being up 16 hours already). Lot of good reasons for getting a good night's sleep, and heading off in the morning.
About 10am, we finally got on our way - from Seattle first to Aberdeen, and then straight down 101 to Newport, Oregon. The subsequent trip on paper was supposed to take about 8 hours......but we added in some unexpected detours, long stops to warm my hands, dinner here, tank of gas there, the occasional chat with the local police department, and nineteen hours later we arrived at our hotel. Yes - that's 5am. The next day I was fine - no soreness at all. (One secret I learned - take some Ibuprofen before we ride, and it helps to keep the muscles relaxed while riding).
My boyfriend had installed headsets in our helmets so we could talk to each other, and listen to our Ipods while we rode. Made for a very pleasant ride - at least as long as the batteries held out. Crossing into Oregon, we rode over the longest bridge I've seen in a long time - maybe 7 miles long? It was awesome.
Driving down a fifty mile stretch of backwoods country highway at night without passing an open restaurant or gas station was a little unnerving....especially since I get about 100 miles to a tank of gas. Now, mind you - I'm only putting in 1.5 to 2 gallons at a time, so that's quite a bargain. But still - when the towns I've heard of are locked up tight, I'm not holding my breath for the NEXT wide spot in the road.
Around four in the morning, we finally got pointed in the direction of a gas station by a sheriff who saw us pulled over. We got gas, and hot chocolate, and pulled out of the station to continue down to Newport, when the flashing lights went off behind us. Did you turn left, right and left just a minute ago? What? No - we came straight out of the gas station and turned left. Apparently we angled across a one-way street, and it was enough of an excuse for the local gendarmes to check us out.
Fortunately we both have motorcycle endorsements and insurance, which are required in the state of Oregon, and after confirming (four or five times) that we had NOT been drinking, we were on our merry way again.
Our hotel was a stone's throw from the ocean, and we spent Sunday afternoon wandering around the little seaside village, visiting lighthouses, and other landmarks in the area. I got up about 9:30am long enough to grab some breakfast, and head back to bed. That evening, we stopped in a lovely little restaurant for dinner - very romantic, and the owner actually stayed open an extra hour to accommodate us. In fact, she was encouraging us to stay right up until the end. She said she lived about 40 miles south of that town, and enjoyed being in the area.
The fog rolled in Monday morning, but cleared as we headed away from the coast. We finally left around 2pm, again expecting about a six hour ride home (up I-5 - so mostly freeway). It was then we took one of the most delightful wrong turns of our trip......the directions SAID turn right at 34, which we did....but they meant the other 34. We passed through one little stretch of road perhaps two miles long that had at least ten hairpin turns. And then we just *had* to turn around and go back through it. What a shame ;)
There were a few things that were a little unnerving. As we hit Centralia, the rain storms started to pour. We have waterproof gear, but I haven't ridden in the rain much, certainly not on the freeway, at night, passing semi's, through construction, and having been up all day. Funny...aren't these the exact conditions I didn't want to ride in two days ago?
At one point, my helmet fogged up, and I was having trouble raising my visor to clear it. I'm in the middle of a construction zone, the police have a lane blocked off with flares, and RIGHT as I'm pulling off to the shoulder, the headset dies - so I'm unable to tell my beau what's going on. It took us about 30 minutes of backtracking and waiting to catch up with each other again - we finally got home about 2:30am.....and I had to be at work by 8:30am.
I was one tired puppy, but it was worth it. Oh - and then I stopped by my bank to pull out some cash, and discovered that my "unusual activity" over the weekend had flagged my account as potential fraud so they shut my debit card off. After a rather lengthy discussion with the fraud department, who advised me that I should have told them I'd be traveling, they reactivated it.
I calmly explained to them that in the last year I had been to Tampa, Miami, Biloxi, Pensacola, Dallas, Houston, Omaha, and southern California, and they hadn't ONCE been concerned. But I take a motorcycle trip to OREGON and suddenly I'm red-flagged? Is it really that unusual for someone in Seattle to go to Oregon??? If someone really wants fifty bucks worth of gas, two dollars at a time, they can HAVE it. I would MUCH prefer that they question the FIVE HUNDRED DOLLAR cash withdrawals at the CASINO than the $50 worth of gas I bought over Labor Day.
*shakinghead* Bureaucrats.
All in all though - it was a great trip.
--BT
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
Out Of The Box-Worthy
How many boxes make up a life? Looking around my dining room, I see bits and pieces of a life I used to have. Wine Glasses & Santa S&P (Salt & Pepper Shakers) declares one box. Palm Pilot, Music Box, Decorate Plates says another. A third is labelled "Misc Stuff I can't bare to part with". Pieces of my childhood reside in there. Graphic Novels - Sandman, LeStat, et al rests on top of it.
There are at least two that are called "Misc from bedroom floor", and two more threatening "To Be Filed 2002". I'm going to need a filing cabinet before I dare break the seal on those. They are safely ensconced in packing tape & cardboard right now, so I don't have to deal with them. "Photos and photo albums rest by a dresser. Pictures and craft items from basket in small bedroom" and "Embroidery from the computer room" surround it. Paintings and mirrors hide in the corner, along with my great grandparents wedding certificate (a beautiful piece about 18" x 25", from 1902).
I kind of live here now. I have magnets on my refrigerator, TP in the bathroom, wine in the cupboard, and books on the shelves. I've bought a few more things which will make this feel much more livable - another shelving unit for the bathroom for towels, storage containers for cat food & shelves for the kitchen cupboards to give me more usable space. I've even slept here a few times, although the bed has yet to arrive.
It was supposed to be delivered Saturday, but the manufacturer shipped the wrong size. I have an antique mahogany bed frame which requires a full - it used to be the standard, now it's an odd size. Some mattresses don't even come in Full anymore. They wanted to "upgrade" me for free to a Queen, complete with a free Maple bed frame. I hated to explain that my bedroom set is a family heirloom, an antique, part of a four piece matching set, and worth at least eight grand. I don't think they really want to give me an upgrade to that. It'll be another two weeks for the Full, and they're giving me a discount instead. I'll take it.
As I settle into my home, I'm settling into my relationship as well. We have the oddest little things in common, which I love. We went camping recently, and he asked me how I like my marshmallows. I'm not really a lightly toasted kinda girl.....I prefer mine black and flaming. So does he. :) We both have spent over a year in a body cast. We share metal allergies. We were both raised in a rather different environment, away from television, and the popular media. We've both gone a long time between relationships. We both come from families where our parents had a significant age difference, the same as he and I, and our parents are/were both happily married.
We have our differences, of course. I understand *that* he loves mountain climbing, yet don't understand why. The more he describes it (with a cheerful smile and the warm glow of enthusiasm), the less I understand the appeal. There's a condition called HAPE - High Altitude Pulmonary something, where people's lungs explode like Rice Krispies - Snap, Crackle & Pop. It has something to do with the change in pressure, and you can literally hear pieces of their lungs bursting. And in the same breath where he is describing this, he'll talk about his dream of climbing Denali......a mountain high enough where they do research on HAPE because they are guaranteed a few cases a year of volunteer victims to study. I shake my head quietly, yet it is partially this kind of passion that is why I love this man.
It's not often a man can say he didn't notice I was short....I'm only five foot tall, yet the strength & magnitude of my personality were such that I actually had to point out to him that I'm little. He likes my laugh, my moxie, and my minor obsession with nail polish. In fact, my laugh was the first thing he noticed about me. We're really a good match, and have already talked about where we're headed and what we want out of life, and our relationship.
It's hard to put a label on that, yet I feel like we're unpacking the relationship the same way I'm unpacking boxes.....the more it opens up, the more it expands. His mother really likes me, and he's warned her to expect me to be around a long time. We talked about this the other night, and we're both pretty comfortable that we're likely headed towards marriage.
It seems funny to say that after only two months of dating, and yet - it's not a desperate, urgent feeling. It's just as if I've read the ending of the story, and am now going back through the opening chapters to see how we got there.
--BT
There are at least two that are called "Misc from bedroom floor", and two more threatening "To Be Filed 2002". I'm going to need a filing cabinet before I dare break the seal on those. They are safely ensconced in packing tape & cardboard right now, so I don't have to deal with them. "Photos and photo albums rest by a dresser. Pictures and craft items from basket in small bedroom" and "Embroidery from the computer room" surround it. Paintings and mirrors hide in the corner, along with my great grandparents wedding certificate (a beautiful piece about 18" x 25", from 1902).
I kind of live here now. I have magnets on my refrigerator, TP in the bathroom, wine in the cupboard, and books on the shelves. I've bought a few more things which will make this feel much more livable - another shelving unit for the bathroom for towels, storage containers for cat food & shelves for the kitchen cupboards to give me more usable space. I've even slept here a few times, although the bed has yet to arrive.
It was supposed to be delivered Saturday, but the manufacturer shipped the wrong size. I have an antique mahogany bed frame which requires a full - it used to be the standard, now it's an odd size. Some mattresses don't even come in Full anymore. They wanted to "upgrade" me for free to a Queen, complete with a free Maple bed frame. I hated to explain that my bedroom set is a family heirloom, an antique, part of a four piece matching set, and worth at least eight grand. I don't think they really want to give me an upgrade to that. It'll be another two weeks for the Full, and they're giving me a discount instead. I'll take it.
As I settle into my home, I'm settling into my relationship as well. We have the oddest little things in common, which I love. We went camping recently, and he asked me how I like my marshmallows. I'm not really a lightly toasted kinda girl.....I prefer mine black and flaming. So does he. :) We both have spent over a year in a body cast. We share metal allergies. We were both raised in a rather different environment, away from television, and the popular media. We've both gone a long time between relationships. We both come from families where our parents had a significant age difference, the same as he and I, and our parents are/were both happily married.
We have our differences, of course. I understand *that* he loves mountain climbing, yet don't understand why. The more he describes it (with a cheerful smile and the warm glow of enthusiasm), the less I understand the appeal. There's a condition called HAPE - High Altitude Pulmonary something, where people's lungs explode like Rice Krispies - Snap, Crackle & Pop. It has something to do with the change in pressure, and you can literally hear pieces of their lungs bursting. And in the same breath where he is describing this, he'll talk about his dream of climbing Denali......a mountain high enough where they do research on HAPE because they are guaranteed a few cases a year of volunteer victims to study. I shake my head quietly, yet it is partially this kind of passion that is why I love this man.
It's not often a man can say he didn't notice I was short....I'm only five foot tall, yet the strength & magnitude of my personality were such that I actually had to point out to him that I'm little. He likes my laugh, my moxie, and my minor obsession with nail polish. In fact, my laugh was the first thing he noticed about me. We're really a good match, and have already talked about where we're headed and what we want out of life, and our relationship.
It's hard to put a label on that, yet I feel like we're unpacking the relationship the same way I'm unpacking boxes.....the more it opens up, the more it expands. His mother really likes me, and he's warned her to expect me to be around a long time. We talked about this the other night, and we're both pretty comfortable that we're likely headed towards marriage.
It seems funny to say that after only two months of dating, and yet - it's not a desperate, urgent feeling. It's just as if I've read the ending of the story, and am now going back through the opening chapters to see how we got there.
--BT
Thursday, July 19, 2007
My Home Away From Home
Daydreams of leisure and relaxation seduce me while I add to my to-do list.
I stopped by my place today, and took care of a few small things - changed the light bulb out front, put the cabinet together that goes behind/over the toilet, ripped the tags off a bath mat & throw rug. I put wine & ketchup in the fridge, and washed a few counter tops down. I found a lamp (but no shade), and put a bulb in it. I now have light in my bedroom. I cannot yet eat or shower there, still need a mattress, went shopping for a filing cabinet & bookcase (but came home with nothing). The other day, I took the plastic wrap off some of the furniture, dwelling on the beauty that has been hidden in storage for well over a year.
It is my home......yet I don't live there. Yet.
As I wander around, I see things I mean to take care of - some of which I've been meaning to take care of for nigh on seven years. The light in the kitchen is cracked, and ugly. There's a problem with the seal around the bathtub, and I don't know if it involves just grout & elbow grease or licensed, bonded professionals who make 5x what I do. There's a soft spot nearby that will probably involve ripping flooring up & hopefully not needing to replace sub flooring. The rickety creak just *sounds* expensive, which means it will probably have to wait.
I used to have towel racks in the bathroom, and a water purifier on the kitchen sink. I don't know where they disappeared to, or who exactly was responsible for the disappearance. Little mysteries await me at every turn. "Didn't there used to be.....", I wonder. The cupboards are different than what I remember, but they must be the same. I never did put curtains up the first time. I believe I shall rectify that oversight this time.
My to-do list is growing by the day - I need to find the piano bench. It must be in storage. And a tuner - it doesn't sound as good as it did when I was a child.....I'm guessing my father hadn't had it tuned since before my mother became ill, and that's pushing 15-20 years. Because of that, I'll probably have to have 4-5 tunings before it's back to normal. Pianos are delicate instruments, and you can't just force them back into shape. It's like going to a chiropractor - they do small adjustments so as not to overstress you with change. That's what I need - a chiropractor for the piano. Does my insurance cover that??
A microwave would be useful. I need a throw-rug for the entry way. And dining room chairs. I inherited chairs, but they are worn out, in need of repair - repairs I once priced out at $1800. Ouch. I have better ways to spend that kind of money. A wine cabinet. Book case. Lateral File. A television set? Perhaps. I have a DVD player I discovered....it was in a dresser drawer, along with a feather pillow and a Mariner Moose. Very strange - I thought I gave all my electronics away.
As I search for things I need, I am reminded of the diner scene from When Harry Met Sally.....not the Deli "I'll have what she's having" one, but early on when Meg Ryan orders pie as they travel to New York.
"Sally: I'd like the chef salad please with oil and vinegar on the side, and the apple pie a la mode.
Waitress: Chef and apple a la mode.
Sally: But I'd like the pie heated, and I don't want the ice cream on top. I want it on the side, and I'd like strawberry instead of vanilla if you have it. If not, then no ice cream, just whipped cream, but only if it's real. If it's out of the can, then nothing.
Waitress: Not even the pie?
Sally: No, just the pie, but then not heated."
I know what I want. I'm even willing to be flexible within reason....I just don't know if I can get it. My kitchen is very small, and floor space is at a premium.
I don't have a pantry, so garbage & recycling will have to sit out. But the kitchen is at the crossroads of the entire place......I don't want my whole place looking like & smelling like garbage! I *love* this, but Jesus H Christ - it's a hundred and sixty nine dollars!!!! I've found other things would would be 'okay', but nothing that really solves the issue I have...and I'm not ready to spend two hundred bucks on a TRASH bin. *sigh* But I'm also not willing to throw away $15 on one that doesn't do what I need. I don't want much - I just want what I want.
I need a piece of wood for the sliding glass door, to "lock" it in place when I put the cat door in. I'm so looking forward to my cat becoming more independent - where I can put food & water out, and let him wander out on the back porch at his leisure. I don't know if I kept my chimes or not. I may find them in a box one day. I've already found things I'd forgotten about. I'd like a nice little chair to sit out on the porch and read, inhaling the scent of rhododendrons and wisteria, D'Artagnon rolling at my feet.
Slowly, but surely, my home away from home is being born. For now I live here instead of there, and dream of things to come.
--BT
I stopped by my place today, and took care of a few small things - changed the light bulb out front, put the cabinet together that goes behind/over the toilet, ripped the tags off a bath mat & throw rug. I put wine & ketchup in the fridge, and washed a few counter tops down. I found a lamp (but no shade), and put a bulb in it. I now have light in my bedroom. I cannot yet eat or shower there, still need a mattress, went shopping for a filing cabinet & bookcase (but came home with nothing). The other day, I took the plastic wrap off some of the furniture, dwelling on the beauty that has been hidden in storage for well over a year.
It is my home......yet I don't live there. Yet.
As I wander around, I see things I mean to take care of - some of which I've been meaning to take care of for nigh on seven years. The light in the kitchen is cracked, and ugly. There's a problem with the seal around the bathtub, and I don't know if it involves just grout & elbow grease or licensed, bonded professionals who make 5x what I do. There's a soft spot nearby that will probably involve ripping flooring up & hopefully not needing to replace sub flooring. The rickety creak just *sounds* expensive, which means it will probably have to wait.
I used to have towel racks in the bathroom, and a water purifier on the kitchen sink. I don't know where they disappeared to, or who exactly was responsible for the disappearance. Little mysteries await me at every turn. "Didn't there used to be.....", I wonder. The cupboards are different than what I remember, but they must be the same. I never did put curtains up the first time. I believe I shall rectify that oversight this time.
My to-do list is growing by the day - I need to find the piano bench. It must be in storage. And a tuner - it doesn't sound as good as it did when I was a child.....I'm guessing my father hadn't had it tuned since before my mother became ill, and that's pushing 15-20 years. Because of that, I'll probably have to have 4-5 tunings before it's back to normal. Pianos are delicate instruments, and you can't just force them back into shape. It's like going to a chiropractor - they do small adjustments so as not to overstress you with change. That's what I need - a chiropractor for the piano. Does my insurance cover that??
A microwave would be useful. I need a throw-rug for the entry way. And dining room chairs. I inherited chairs, but they are worn out, in need of repair - repairs I once priced out at $1800. Ouch. I have better ways to spend that kind of money. A wine cabinet. Book case. Lateral File. A television set? Perhaps. I have a DVD player I discovered....it was in a dresser drawer, along with a feather pillow and a Mariner Moose. Very strange - I thought I gave all my electronics away.
As I search for things I need, I am reminded of the diner scene from When Harry Met Sally.....not the Deli "I'll have what she's having" one, but early on when Meg Ryan orders pie as they travel to New York.
"Sally: I'd like the chef salad please with oil and vinegar on the side, and the apple pie a la mode.
Waitress: Chef and apple a la mode.
Sally: But I'd like the pie heated, and I don't want the ice cream on top. I want it on the side, and I'd like strawberry instead of vanilla if you have it. If not, then no ice cream, just whipped cream, but only if it's real. If it's out of the can, then nothing.
Waitress: Not even the pie?
Sally: No, just the pie, but then not heated."
I know what I want. I'm even willing to be flexible within reason....I just don't know if I can get it. My kitchen is very small, and floor space is at a premium.
I don't have a pantry, so garbage & recycling will have to sit out. But the kitchen is at the crossroads of the entire place......I don't want my whole place looking like & smelling like garbage! I *love* this, but Jesus H Christ - it's a hundred and sixty nine dollars!!!! I've found other things would would be 'okay', but nothing that really solves the issue I have...and I'm not ready to spend two hundred bucks on a TRASH bin. *sigh* But I'm also not willing to throw away $15 on one that doesn't do what I need. I don't want much - I just want what I want.I need a piece of wood for the sliding glass door, to "lock" it in place when I put the cat door in. I'm so looking forward to my cat becoming more independent - where I can put food & water out, and let him wander out on the back porch at his leisure. I don't know if I kept my chimes or not. I may find them in a box one day. I've already found things I'd forgotten about. I'd like a nice little chair to sit out on the porch and read, inhaling the scent of rhododendrons and wisteria, D'Artagnon rolling at my feet.
Slowly, but surely, my home away from home is being born. For now I live here instead of there, and dream of things to come.
--BT
Friday, July 13, 2007
My Quiet Little Life
It's been a strangely busy and disorienting week. My boyfriend has been out of town, so I can scarcely blame it on him. *smile* Last weekend, I went out on the town with a friend which involved flaming pots of chocolate and a Utah waitress with funky hair. (see Lucky Number Seven). The next day was a birthday party - where adults were asked to come dressed as children and children as adults. Quite fun, and I have the hot pink feather boa to prove it.
My carpet got installed on Monday morning.....VERY happy about how it turned out! So I went in late - this was going to be an odd day anyway - There's one project we have that six people have been trained on (including the manager). FIVE of them were out of the office on Monday leaving only the guy who learned it three weeks ago in charge. Oh joy! So he came in at 6am to cover that.....then my 8am gal came in at 5 to cover *my* teammate who's out. That left *no one* working until 8pm who knows both projects, which is why I came in late.
Monday, I arrive to find out my programmer's hard drive crashed......just as he's uploading the final fix for a program I wrote specs for about five months ago. That night was supposed to be my by-week at pool, but I got called in to play. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday we blew up lots and lots of balloons - over 250 of them - and FILLED this guy's cubicle as a surprise for one of my co-workers. He'd been on vacation, and then his grandfather passed away, so we wanted to do something to cheer him up.
Wednesday, I dropped my bike. TWICE. In fifteen minutes. Turned out that I flooded it the first time I dropped it, which is why it died as I was rounding a corner causing the 2nd crash. I waited an hour for a friend to come help me out. Ended up being late enough that we went to breakfast, since my punishment for tardiness is the same whether I'm two hours late or four. Minor damage to the bike. None to me, unless you count my ego. 
Thursday I stayed late again to cover the hours I missed on Wednesday, and then went to see Harry Potter!! I have been waiting months and months for this, and it was every bit as good as I'd hoped it would be. But by the time I got to bed it was quite late.
Today, the movers came. Most of my stuff is now occupying the floor space of my condo. Hallelujah. But it couldn't possibly go smoothly, The first guy to show up was totally lame. Clueless, disorganized, and he spent half his time doing god knows what - searching for bandages for splinters, or taking one small box & a lamp down to the truck instead of loading up the cart & the freight elevator with goods. The second guy was good. The third guy was good, once he arrived, but he was 45 minutes late.
After two hours, none of us wanted the first guy touching anything, so we finally sent him out for food. I took a vote, and it was unanimous to let him go, and handle the piano without him. Note - the piano was the entire reason I ordered three men in the FIRST place.
What took three men two hours to do in Florida, it took three men AND me nearly six hours to do in Washington. Now granted a good hour of that was driving time, but STILL. It made me want to pull what little hair I have left out by the roots. Today was my brother's birthday, and we were supposed to go in early so we could eat at the stadium. That was not to be. The game turned out to be really exciting all the way down to the last pitch, but we netted a loss nonetheless.
Tomorrow, I need to get my license plate & driver's license squared away, and then the DS meeting is in the evening. Sunday, I unpack. My boyfriend comes back in town that night, but he may just want to go home & crash. I think I need a vacation to recover from life. Just when I'd like things to slow down, I have a project heating up at work, I have things I need to buy to start living in my new home (like a mattress & box spring for starters....and a trash can). I need to find a roommate.
What happened to my quiet little life?
--BT
My carpet got installed on Monday morning.....VERY happy about how it turned out! So I went in late - this was going to be an odd day anyway - There's one project we have that six people have been trained on (including the manager). FIVE of them were out of the office on Monday leaving only the guy who learned it three weeks ago in charge. Oh joy! So he came in at 6am to cover that.....then my 8am gal came in at 5 to cover *my* teammate who's out. That left *no one* working until 8pm who knows both projects, which is why I came in late.
Monday, I arrive to find out my programmer's hard drive crashed......just as he's uploading the final fix for a program I wrote specs for about five months ago. That night was supposed to be my by-week at pool, but I got called in to play. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday we blew up lots and lots of balloons - over 250 of them - and FILLED this guy's cubicle as a surprise for one of my co-workers. He'd been on vacation, and then his grandfather passed away, so we wanted to do something to cheer him up.
Wednesday, I dropped my bike. TWICE. In fifteen minutes. Turned out that I flooded it the first time I dropped it, which is why it died as I was rounding a corner causing the 2nd crash. I waited an hour for a friend to come help me out. Ended up being late enough that we went to breakfast, since my punishment for tardiness is the same whether I'm two hours late or four. Minor damage to the bike. None to me, unless you count my ego. 
Thursday I stayed late again to cover the hours I missed on Wednesday, and then went to see Harry Potter!! I have been waiting months and months for this, and it was every bit as good as I'd hoped it would be. But by the time I got to bed it was quite late.
Today, the movers came. Most of my stuff is now occupying the floor space of my condo. Hallelujah. But it couldn't possibly go smoothly, The first guy to show up was totally lame. Clueless, disorganized, and he spent half his time doing god knows what - searching for bandages for splinters, or taking one small box & a lamp down to the truck instead of loading up the cart & the freight elevator with goods. The second guy was good. The third guy was good, once he arrived, but he was 45 minutes late.
After two hours, none of us wanted the first guy touching anything, so we finally sent him out for food. I took a vote, and it was unanimous to let him go, and handle the piano without him. Note - the piano was the entire reason I ordered three men in the FIRST place.
What took three men two hours to do in Florida, it took three men AND me nearly six hours to do in Washington. Now granted a good hour of that was driving time, but STILL. It made me want to pull what little hair I have left out by the roots. Today was my brother's birthday, and we were supposed to go in early so we could eat at the stadium. That was not to be. The game turned out to be really exciting all the way down to the last pitch, but we netted a loss nonetheless.
Tomorrow, I need to get my license plate & driver's license squared away, and then the DS meeting is in the evening. Sunday, I unpack. My boyfriend comes back in town that night, but he may just want to go home & crash. I think I need a vacation to recover from life. Just when I'd like things to slow down, I have a project heating up at work, I have things I need to buy to start living in my new home (like a mattress & box spring for starters....and a trash can). I need to find a roommate.
What happened to my quiet little life?
--BT
Saturday, July 7, 2007
Lucky Number Seven
Hitting the Jackpot. Winning the Lottery. These are the types of things most people are dreaming about today, on 07/07/07, but for one such friend of mine - she already has won the lottery. Anne has a date with a doctah! *wink*
Louis Pasteur once said that luck is when preparation meets opportunity - and today, one very, very, very prepared friend and I are going out to celebrate the fact that she now has the opportunity for a life-saving operation. It's called the Duodenal Switch, and it is a remarkable gift that restores life to a body that has been robbed by metabolic disorders and obesity. I know, because I've had it myself. It's one of a category of Weight Loss Surgeries, but it does so much more than that. It eliminated my high cholesterol, resolved my insulin resistance (pre-diabetes), and helped me shed well over 100 lbs.
It has taken literally years for Anne to get all of her ducks in a row - qualifying for disability, getting set up on Medicare, waiting (and waiting ZzZzzZzzz and waiting) for Medicare to finally kick in. She is at that balance point of sickness and health to NEED the surgery, yet be physically able to survive it. Her date is scheduled for August, so the tension and fear of the actual operation is still a few weeks down the road.
Today.......today is all about the potential. Luck, and love, and joy, and hope! The what ifs, what might, what could life be like if she were healed. I'm going to quiz her on what she's looking forward to most - the growing list of Wows she's waiting for, and what she's hoping for. It will take a while for her to get there because she has farther to go than some.....and she will not only need to deal with recovery from the surgery, but recovery from the disease as well. But I can hardly wait - she is already an amazing woman, and the power & vitality she'll gain from this will only serve to launch her further into the stratosphere.
It is only fitting that today, SeaFair weekend, here in Seattle....her ship has come in.
Salut!!!
--BT
Louis Pasteur once said that luck is when preparation meets opportunity - and today, one very, very, very prepared friend and I are going out to celebrate the fact that she now has the opportunity for a life-saving operation. It's called the Duodenal Switch, and it is a remarkable gift that restores life to a body that has been robbed by metabolic disorders and obesity. I know, because I've had it myself. It's one of a category of Weight Loss Surgeries, but it does so much more than that. It eliminated my high cholesterol, resolved my insulin resistance (pre-diabetes), and helped me shed well over 100 lbs.
It has taken literally years for Anne to get all of her ducks in a row - qualifying for disability, getting set up on Medicare, waiting (and waiting ZzZzzZzzz and waiting) for Medicare to finally kick in. She is at that balance point of sickness and health to NEED the surgery, yet be physically able to survive it. Her date is scheduled for August, so the tension and fear of the actual operation is still a few weeks down the road.
Today.......today is all about the potential. Luck, and love, and joy, and hope! The what ifs, what might, what could life be like if she were healed. I'm going to quiz her on what she's looking forward to most - the growing list of Wows she's waiting for, and what she's hoping for. It will take a while for her to get there because she has farther to go than some.....and she will not only need to deal with recovery from the surgery, but recovery from the disease as well. But I can hardly wait - she is already an amazing woman, and the power & vitality she'll gain from this will only serve to launch her further into the stratosphere.
It is only fitting that today, SeaFair weekend, here in Seattle....her ship has come in.
Salut!!!
--BT
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
Buckaroo Banzai's Love Child
There's something about new love which is both intoxicating and maddening. It sets up a conflict within, wishing to dive in, immerse yourself, rush forward to see where it goes, yet stretching it out and savoring each moment and 'first' that comes along. 
First date, first kiss, first ILY - special moments that mark time better than a calendar. Time cascades into ripples of images, where memories overlay and hours disappear.
My first kiss was Marshall McClanahan who lived across the street. We were six years old, and he moved into the house of my first boyfriend, Johnnie Humphrey, who moved away when I was four. I don't remember why I kissed Marshall, and not Johnnie, but I did. After school, I'd watch old Godzilla movies with Charlie Blaylock, and I held hands with Chris Paine, who walked me home from school through the woods. Other firsts came along - first date, first grownup boyfriend, and of course, who doesn't remember their first time. My first time was highly unusual though.
Many people tell stories of young love, the backseat of a car, the stadium at school, their parents house. I got a menu. *laugh* Knowing we were headed in that direction, he gave me some pillow books to read.....a sort of How-To guide for new lovers....browsing them alone, I was able to see what intrigued me in concept, and what I was actually willing to try. Basically, I was like "I want to try that, and that, and that.....and I don't know if my body bends that way, but just in case it does, I want to try that, too." As a Gemini, it was a perfect introduction.
I had a strange dream afterwards, that my brother who had cancer wanted to come back as my baby and that I was pregnant with him. The morning after, I returned home to find out that my brother really had died - at almost the exact moment I lost my virginity. Twas surreal - Was it a premonition? I don't know; that was nearly twenty years ago, and I have yet to have a child.
It's been a *long* time since I was in love. For the last several years it seems that I was hit and miss with men. I'd meet someone interesting, and they'd move away. Or they wouldn't call. Or they did call, and I had to tell them no. Lots of first dates, and online meet & greets, but no one that really sparked my imagination, my passions and desire. I've tried Yahoo, I've tried Match, I've tried E-Harmony, I even joined Events and Adventures - a singles club that sets up activities for people to do, so they could mingle. Nada!
And then I finally met someone the old fashioned way - in real life. It's still early in the relationship, and who knows where it will go - but it has potential. It took me a while to realize it - we've known each other nearly a year, and both been interested in the other, but unaware that it was mutual. I joke that he's a cross between Buckaroo Banzai and MacGyver. According to IMDB, MacGyver is "Part boy-scout. Part genius. All hero." and "Buckaroo Banzai is a rock-star/brain-surgeon/comic-book-hero/samurai who along with his group, the Hong Kong Cavaliers, must stop evil creatures from the 8th dimension (all named John) who are trying to conquer our dimension. He is helped by Penny Pretty, who is a dead ringer for his ex-wife, and some good extra-dimensional beings who look and talk like Jamaicans."
What's not to love?
--BT
First date, first kiss, first ILY - special moments that mark time better than a calendar. Time cascades into ripples of images, where memories overlay and hours disappear. My first kiss was Marshall McClanahan who lived across the street. We were six years old, and he moved into the house of my first boyfriend, Johnnie Humphrey, who moved away when I was four. I don't remember why I kissed Marshall, and not Johnnie, but I did. After school, I'd watch old Godzilla movies with Charlie Blaylock, and I held hands with Chris Paine, who walked me home from school through the woods. Other firsts came along - first date, first grownup boyfriend, and of course, who doesn't remember their first time. My first time was highly unusual though.
Many people tell stories of young love, the backseat of a car, the stadium at school, their parents house. I got a menu. *laugh* Knowing we were headed in that direction, he gave me some pillow books to read.....a sort of How-To guide for new lovers....browsing them alone, I was able to see what intrigued me in concept, and what I was actually willing to try. Basically, I was like "I want to try that, and that, and that.....and I don't know if my body bends that way, but just in case it does, I want to try that, too." As a Gemini, it was a perfect introduction.
I had a strange dream afterwards, that my brother who had cancer wanted to come back as my baby and that I was pregnant with him. The morning after, I returned home to find out that my brother really had died - at almost the exact moment I lost my virginity. Twas surreal - Was it a premonition? I don't know; that was nearly twenty years ago, and I have yet to have a child.
It's been a *long* time since I was in love. For the last several years it seems that I was hit and miss with men. I'd meet someone interesting, and they'd move away. Or they wouldn't call. Or they did call, and I had to tell them no. Lots of first dates, and online meet & greets, but no one that really sparked my imagination, my passions and desire. I've tried Yahoo, I've tried Match, I've tried E-Harmony, I even joined Events and Adventures - a singles club that sets up activities for people to do, so they could mingle. Nada!And then I finally met someone the old fashioned way - in real life. It's still early in the relationship, and who knows where it will go - but it has potential. It took me a while to realize it - we've known each other nearly a year, and both been interested in the other, but unaware that it was mutual. I joke that he's a cross between Buckaroo Banzai and MacGyver. According to IMDB, MacGyver is "Part boy-scout. Part genius. All hero." and "Buckaroo Banzai is a rock-star/brain-surgeon/comic-book-hero/samurai who along with his group, the Hong Kong Cavaliers, must stop evil creatures from the 8th dimension (all named John) who are trying to conquer our dimension. He is helped by Penny Pretty, who is a dead ringer for his ex-wife, and some good extra-dimensional beings who look and talk like Jamaicans."
What's not to love?
--BT
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
Twenty-Eight Miles
I've had my motorcycle for a couple of weeks now, but have not had an opportunity to ride it until today. First, I needed to make sure I had insurance on it. Then the weather soured, and I waited for it to clear. I finally had a good evening, only to discover I couldn't back it out of my space (slanted sideways on a hill, backing it UP hill using only my leg muscles since there is no reverse on a motorcycle). I had someone come over this weekend, to turn it around for me so I could use 1st gear to pull out forward instead of backing out.
Over the weekend, it became apparent that the brakes on my car needed some attention (BOY did they need attention, did I discover!), so the need to ride the motorcycle as my back-up transportation came into play. I left a note for work letting them know the car was going in the shop, and I'd be late.
I borrowed some warm riding gear from someone, and headed out to my condo, where I'm keeping the bike. As I was getting ready this morning, it was strange to realize that I was a bit trepidatious about riding it. It's a bigger bike than I've ever ridden before. I'd never gone over 20mph. All of my experience was in a controlled environment - not the semi-controlled chaos of city streets. I knew I wasn't ready for freeways, but surface streets can be equally as unpredictable. Was I ready? Could I handle this? Was it too much for me? Little questions prickled my spine.
I've used a fair bit of caution in avoiding circumstances I knew I wasn't ready for - riding in the rain, on freeways, at night - but I was surprised that I felt fear about getting on it at all. When I dropped my car off at the dealership, I asked for a ride back to my condo.......it's only a block away, but carrying helmet, gloves, backpack, fully armored fully lined motorcycle jacket, and waterproof riding pants, I didn't care to walk it. They dropped me off, and I went inside to dress.
It was now or never. The weather was perfect, I had driven the route I was going to take before, and I was in no rush to get there. If I didn't do it today, I knew I never would. With speed bumps the size of hippopotamuses, the first tenth of a mile was a little bumpy. But then the bike settled down and so did I, and my fears dissipated.
I got to take it around some sharp corners, up and down hills, numerous traffic lights, and many sharp curves. The wind whistled through my helmet, but the armored shoulder pads held my backpack firmly in place. The faster I went, the more comfortable the bike felt. I made it up to 45 mph, and by the time I got to work, I was wishing I worked further away. :)
Today was a gorgeous day here in Seattle, and the bikes began to line up at work, including mine! I went to lunch with another motorcycle enthusiast, and he said I had good riding form. He's *very* experienced, so that's definitely a great compliment to hear. Other than killing the engine nearly every time I started to move on the way to work, and trying to figure out how to make a left turn across rush hour traffic up a hill without a traffic signal on the way home, it was good.
Once I got over it, I had a blast! Now, I need, I need, I need.........riding gear, better boots, accessories for the bike, more experience, and good routes to travel. Just what I need - another expensive hobby. *lol* But the investment in protection is worth the price. If I hadn't just spent $600 on a brake job today, I'd be ready to shop.
So can you guess how far I rode today??
:)
--BT
Over the weekend, it became apparent that the brakes on my car needed some attention (BOY did they need attention, did I discover!), so the need to ride the motorcycle as my back-up transportation came into play. I left a note for work letting them know the car was going in the shop, and I'd be late.
I borrowed some warm riding gear from someone, and headed out to my condo, where I'm keeping the bike. As I was getting ready this morning, it was strange to realize that I was a bit trepidatious about riding it. It's a bigger bike than I've ever ridden before. I'd never gone over 20mph. All of my experience was in a controlled environment - not the semi-controlled chaos of city streets. I knew I wasn't ready for freeways, but surface streets can be equally as unpredictable. Was I ready? Could I handle this? Was it too much for me? Little questions prickled my spine.
I've used a fair bit of caution in avoiding circumstances I knew I wasn't ready for - riding in the rain, on freeways, at night - but I was surprised that I felt fear about getting on it at all. When I dropped my car off at the dealership, I asked for a ride back to my condo.......it's only a block away, but carrying helmet, gloves, backpack, fully armored fully lined motorcycle jacket, and waterproof riding pants, I didn't care to walk it. They dropped me off, and I went inside to dress.
It was now or never. The weather was perfect, I had driven the route I was going to take before, and I was in no rush to get there. If I didn't do it today, I knew I never would. With speed bumps the size of hippopotamuses, the first tenth of a mile was a little bumpy. But then the bike settled down and so did I, and my fears dissipated.
I got to take it around some sharp corners, up and down hills, numerous traffic lights, and many sharp curves. The wind whistled through my helmet, but the armored shoulder pads held my backpack firmly in place. The faster I went, the more comfortable the bike felt. I made it up to 45 mph, and by the time I got to work, I was wishing I worked further away. :)
Today was a gorgeous day here in Seattle, and the bikes began to line up at work, including mine! I went to lunch with another motorcycle enthusiast, and he said I had good riding form. He's *very* experienced, so that's definitely a great compliment to hear. Other than killing the engine nearly every time I started to move on the way to work, and trying to figure out how to make a left turn across rush hour traffic up a hill without a traffic signal on the way home, it was good.
Once I got over it, I had a blast! Now, I need, I need, I need.........riding gear, better boots, accessories for the bike, more experience, and good routes to travel. Just what I need - another expensive hobby. *lol* But the investment in protection is worth the price. If I hadn't just spent $600 on a brake job today, I'd be ready to shop.
So can you guess how far I rode today??
:)
--BT
Monday, June 11, 2007
Visual DNA
Ran across this on someone else's blog, and really liked it. If you'll roll across each picture, it let me put a short description on WHY I chose what I chose. What is your visual DNA? If you do it, leave me a link so I can check it out.
--BT
Sunday, June 10, 2007
The Ten Thousand Dollar Day
Thursday turned out to be a super productive, extremely expensive day. There aren't many days that I can honestly say I spent ten grand, and was happy about it. Heck there aren't many days I can say that, period!
The Painters: Two days. That's all it took. They came in on Wednesday, and by Thursday afternoon they were headed out to go fishing. Gotta love motivation like that. The place looks *fabulous*!! I cannot state that often enough. While I'm quite certain I could have done it cheaper myself, the results would have reflected that. Nothing really stands up to the professional, and that's what makes them worth paying for.
The Movers: Yay!! My stuff has arrived!! I haven't spent quality time with my furniture in over a year. I was so happy to see my Chinese screen that I kissed it. Now, they weren't the fastest guys on the planet, but it worked. They picked things up in early May, and by request, waited to deliver it until early June. Took them 2 and a half hours to unload & put everything into a 10 x 10 storage unit. I am fortunate that I can take a three hour lunch, without taking too much of a hit at work. Now, if I could just get the carpet guys to come out, I'd be able to move in.
The Bike: Hot chick on a hot bike. *lol* That's what one of my co-workers said when he saw what I'd purchased. Of course, then he got nervous that he'd offended me. You know the whole work, sexual harassment, can't say Boo. I'm like - hey, it was a compliment! Can't get much better than that! Damn!
So what did I get? It's a 2006 Midnight Black Buell Blast motorcycle, with only 197 miles on it. However, unlike many sport bikes, this is not a lean-over, crotch rocket style bike. It's got the styling of one, but rider positioning is more like a cruiser. I really thought about getting the white one, but it was an '03 (with only 300 miles on it) for the same price as the '06.
I have not yet had the pleasure of riding it though. The dealer did some prep to it, and so we went to pick it up today. My friend rode it home for me, but until I have insurance on it, I'm going to hold off on putting it on the road. But I had to laugh as I'm following him back to my place......not that I'm planning to, but if I were to accidentally hit my own bike, while driving his car, would that be covered under my insurance as uninsured motorist, since the bike was uninsured, but I *am* insured for any car I drive? Sheesh - this sounds like one of those math questions "If two trains left New York..."
Slowly, but surely the pieces are falling into place. Expensive pieces, to be sure, but money well spent.
Thanks, Dad.
--BT
The Painters: Two days. That's all it took. They came in on Wednesday, and by Thursday afternoon they were headed out to go fishing. Gotta love motivation like that. The place looks *fabulous*!! I cannot state that often enough. While I'm quite certain I could have done it cheaper myself, the results would have reflected that. Nothing really stands up to the professional, and that's what makes them worth paying for.
The Movers: Yay!! My stuff has arrived!! I haven't spent quality time with my furniture in over a year. I was so happy to see my Chinese screen that I kissed it. Now, they weren't the fastest guys on the planet, but it worked. They picked things up in early May, and by request, waited to deliver it until early June. Took them 2 and a half hours to unload & put everything into a 10 x 10 storage unit. I am fortunate that I can take a three hour lunch, without taking too much of a hit at work. Now, if I could just get the carpet guys to come out, I'd be able to move in.
The Bike: Hot chick on a hot bike. *lol* That's what one of my co-workers said when he saw what I'd purchased. Of course, then he got nervous that he'd offended me. You know the whole work, sexual harassment, can't say Boo. I'm like - hey, it was a compliment! Can't get much better than that! Damn!
So what did I get? It's a 2006 Midnight Black Buell Blast motorcycle, with only 197 miles on it. However, unlike many sport bikes, this is not a lean-over, crotch rocket style bike. It's got the styling of one, but rider positioning is more like a cruiser. I really thought about getting the white one, but it was an '03 (with only 300 miles on it) for the same price as the '06.
I have not yet had the pleasure of riding it though. The dealer did some prep to it, and so we went to pick it up today. My friend rode it home for me, but until I have insurance on it, I'm going to hold off on putting it on the road. But I had to laugh as I'm following him back to my place......not that I'm planning to, but if I were to accidentally hit my own bike, while driving his car, would that be covered under my insurance as uninsured motorist, since the bike was uninsured, but I *am* insured for any car I drive? Sheesh - this sounds like one of those math questions "If two trains left New York..."
Slowly, but surely the pieces are falling into place. Expensive pieces, to be sure, but money well spent.
Thanks, Dad.
--BT
Saturday, June 2, 2007
Great Day, but D'oh!
In any job, in any company, there's always a lot of hoo-haa about 'the customer's experience', which is really an illusion. We cannot truly know someone else's perspective, even if we 'walk a mile' in their moccasins. But once in a while we are given a glimpse, and last night was that moment.
I woke up about 3am Friday morning, my shoulder aching with just a little bit in pain. I've had nearly a year of chiropractic work on it, but the adhesions are still there, and it still gives me issues. So a 2am wake-up call isn't that unusual. I wandered around for a bit, weighed, went to the bathroom, weighed again, had a glass of water, weighed again. I'm almost always about 155, give or take. I don't know why, but I find that give & take fascinating.
Then, to lull my mind into a daze so I could go back to sleep, I sat down at the computer. It only took a few keystrokes and a couple of swear words to realize that my Internet is down. I *JUST* had them out here on *Wednesday* to fix the cable TV, and now the Internet is broken????? NOT a happy camper, but it *is* 3am, and maybe they are doing maintenance. So I shrug, just a little bit put out that I can't check email, and head back to bed.
Around 8am - a much more civilized hour to be rolling out of bed - I start my morning routine, which consists of stumbling around in some state of nudity and clothing discord, wiping the sleep out of my eyes, saying "Not Yet" to the cats who are demanding breakfast, and checking my email. Except.....it's STILL not connecting. GRrrRRrrr When I get a minute, I'm going to read somebody the riot act. They were JUST out here! What did they mess up this time?? *heavysigh* I do NOT have time for this. I can't be staying home in four hour blocks 2-3x a week while they fix stuff.
But I was going to see the Mariners that night, and go motorcycle shopping in the afternoon. It's supposed to be a beautiful day, I think, but I'm not able to tell since I can't get to weather.com. I'm leaving work early, and hoping I have everything ready. Where's my ticket? Oh yes, I attached it to my keychain last night so I *couldn't* forget it! Uhm....now where did I put my keychain?
About halfway through the morning, my cell phone stops working. I *think* this is a good thing, as I had requested that my service be transferred from my old phone to the fancy-schmancy new one that I bought last week. Except - the guy that is taking me to look at motorcycles is out, and the only way I have to reach him is by phone.....and he can't call me back because they have actually decided to do my migration in a matter of hours instead of the 10-14 days the website threatened....er....promised. Maybe half an hour later, I can make outgoing calls on the new phone. Progress! And then what do you know - I get an email confirming everything is done, and the new toy is ready to go. Yay! Just in time.
Two o'clock, I'm ready to go, and my friend, the motorcycle expert, is out front waiting for me. Whew! He's a great guy, and knowledgeable about just about everything, which is why I wanted him along. We looked at a number of cool looking bikes, including the Ninja, the Honda Shadow Aero, and the Buell Blast (see inset - and no, that's not me! *lol* I wish!) Learned a few things, sat down, straddled, mounted, inspected, peered under, over, around and leaned on a number of fine pieces of machinery. He quizzed the minions at the bike shops, mumbling magickal spells of comprehension in a language known only by a select few. By the time I found a model I really liked, it was time to head off to the baseball game.
Win or lose, I *love* the Mariners. From the first pitch to the last out, they are a thrill to watch, whether it's banging your head against an invisible wall as you watch the pitcher play Pin The Ball On The Strike Zone, or leaping out of your seat as a ground rule double ties up the game.....again. Ichiro broke the season record for hitting in the most number of consecutive games (25). Eight pitchers, and seven runs later, it's the 7th inning, and Ritchie Sexson came up to bat. I turned to one of my friends and said "we've seen everything but a home run tonight" and Voila - the next pitch Ritchie sent sailing over the Center Field wall.
Now, I lived in Texas for eleven years, so even though the M's are my team, I do have a soft spot for some of the Ranger players......Texeira and Kenny Lofton. And when Kenny Lofton, the man who is MY AGE, leapt up in the air, bent his arm backwards over the outfield wall and snatched Beltre's 2-run home run ball out of the stands, I could hardly believe it! I knew I'd be seeing that clip on Sportscenter for years to come. Our catcher made a U-turn just passed 2nd base and started booking it back to first. THAT is something you don't see every day of the week! He didn't make it, and the 2-run home run turned into a double play, ending the inning, and essentially the game.
Twas a long game, nearly four hours, but we had a great time. By the time I made it home, it was after midnight. I really wanted to see that play again, so after watching FSN, I then came upstairs to the computer room to try again. Again - no Internet!? What?! It's been almost 24 hours. I finally broke down and called ComCast. No, I don't know the phone number here. No, I don't know the account number. It's not my account - I can verify the address & the social though, so they decided to help me.
What kind of modem do we have? NO idea, sorry, but we do have a Linksys Router, does that help? She asked me to pull the power cord on it for ten seconds, and try again. I did, and it started working almost immediately. D'oh! God, I feel like such a moron. I troubleshoot high tech electronic equipment for a living, and the most common t/s advice we give out is to power-cycle the freakin' device! I can't believe I didn't think of that earlier.
But all's well that ends well, and this has been a great day.
I woke up about 3am Friday morning, my shoulder aching with just a little bit in pain. I've had nearly a year of chiropractic work on it, but the adhesions are still there, and it still gives me issues. So a 2am wake-up call isn't that unusual. I wandered around for a bit, weighed, went to the bathroom, weighed again, had a glass of water, weighed again. I'm almost always about 155, give or take. I don't know why, but I find that give & take fascinating.
Then, to lull my mind into a daze so I could go back to sleep, I sat down at the computer. It only took a few keystrokes and a couple of swear words to realize that my Internet is down. I *JUST* had them out here on *Wednesday* to fix the cable TV, and now the Internet is broken????? NOT a happy camper, but it *is* 3am, and maybe they are doing maintenance. So I shrug, just a little bit put out that I can't check email, and head back to bed.
Around 8am - a much more civilized hour to be rolling out of bed - I start my morning routine, which consists of stumbling around in some state of nudity and clothing discord, wiping the sleep out of my eyes, saying "Not Yet" to the cats who are demanding breakfast, and checking my email. Except.....it's STILL not connecting. GRrrRRrrr When I get a minute, I'm going to read somebody the riot act. They were JUST out here! What did they mess up this time?? *heavysigh* I do NOT have time for this. I can't be staying home in four hour blocks 2-3x a week while they fix stuff.
But I was going to see the Mariners that night, and go motorcycle shopping in the afternoon. It's supposed to be a beautiful day, I think, but I'm not able to tell since I can't get to weather.com. I'm leaving work early, and hoping I have everything ready. Where's my ticket? Oh yes, I attached it to my keychain last night so I *couldn't* forget it! Uhm....now where did I put my keychain? About halfway through the morning, my cell phone stops working. I *think* this is a good thing, as I had requested that my service be transferred from my old phone to the fancy-schmancy new one that I bought last week. Except - the guy that is taking me to look at motorcycles is out, and the only way I have to reach him is by phone.....and he can't call me back because they have actually decided to do my migration in a matter of hours instead of the 10-14 days the website threatened....er....promised. Maybe half an hour later, I can make outgoing calls on the new phone. Progress! And then what do you know - I get an email confirming everything is done, and the new toy is ready to go. Yay! Just in time.
Two o'clock, I'm ready to go, and my friend, the motorcycle expert, is out front waiting for me. Whew! He's a great guy, and knowledgeable about just about everything, which is why I wanted him along. We looked at a number of cool looking bikes, including the Ninja, the Honda Shadow Aero, and the Buell Blast (see inset - and no, that's not me! *lol* I wish!) Learned a few things, sat down, straddled, mounted, inspected, peered under, over, around and leaned on a number of fine pieces of machinery. He quizzed the minions at the bike shops, mumbling magickal spells of comprehension in a language known only by a select few. By the time I found a model I really liked, it was time to head off to the baseball game.
Win or lose, I *love* the Mariners. From the first pitch to the last out, they are a thrill to watch, whether it's banging your head against an invisible wall as you watch the pitcher play Pin The Ball On The Strike Zone, or leaping out of your seat as a ground rule double ties up the game.....again. Ichiro broke the season record for hitting in the most number of consecutive games (25). Eight pitchers, and seven runs later, it's the 7th inning, and Ritchie Sexson came up to bat. I turned to one of my friends and said "we've seen everything but a home run tonight" and Voila - the next pitch Ritchie sent sailing over the Center Field wall.
Now, I lived in Texas for eleven years, so even though the M's are my team, I do have a soft spot for some of the Ranger players......Texeira and Kenny Lofton. And when Kenny Lofton, the man who is MY AGE, leapt up in the air, bent his arm backwards over the outfield wall and snatched Beltre's 2-run home run ball out of the stands, I could hardly believe it! I knew I'd be seeing that clip on Sportscenter for years to come. Our catcher made a U-turn just passed 2nd base and started booking it back to first. THAT is something you don't see every day of the week! He didn't make it, and the 2-run home run turned into a double play, ending the inning, and essentially the game.
Twas a long game, nearly four hours, but we had a great time. By the time I made it home, it was after midnight. I really wanted to see that play again, so after watching FSN, I then came upstairs to the computer room to try again. Again - no Internet!? What?! It's been almost 24 hours. I finally broke down and called ComCast. No, I don't know the phone number here. No, I don't know the account number. It's not my account - I can verify the address & the social though, so they decided to help me.
What kind of modem do we have? NO idea, sorry, but we do have a Linksys Router, does that help? She asked me to pull the power cord on it for ten seconds, and try again. I did, and it started working almost immediately. D'oh! God, I feel like such a moron. I troubleshoot high tech electronic equipment for a living, and the most common t/s advice we give out is to power-cycle the freakin' device! I can't believe I didn't think of that earlier.
But all's well that ends well, and this has been a great day.
Tuesday, May 29, 2007
Sweetness and Light
D'Artagnan is what's called a cream tabby. To some, this means that he's a butterscotch & cream color rather than orange marmalade like the more well-known varieties. To me, it means he looks like Morris who laid out in the sun and got faded.
Cream tabbies, by nature, seem to be extremely mellow and D'Art is no exception. The day I got him, he was just a young buck - a teenager - perhaps 4-5 months old, which puts his birthday some time around the first of April, a fitting birthday for such a mischievously innocent creature. I specifically wanted a cat who *liked* other cats, as I wanted to get him a companion, and he was sharing a cage with a fellow shelter-kitty. Yes, he's adopted, but I haven't broken the news to him yet.
After only 20 minutes or so, I completed the paperwork. I asked if he had a name, and the lady said it was "Dar-TAN-EE-on". Cringing only slightly, I helped her correct the spelling (and pronunciation) of his name. A name made famous by Alexandre Dumas, the fourth Musketeer is often remembered as primarily a lover, not a fighter, and D'Art lives up to his name.
I stopped by work to show off my new-found companion, and he proceeded to stretch out full length on the reception desk and let fifty people rub his belly. Watch out - House Cat on Duty. Well, maybe not at THIS house. We were there for well over an hour, as this steady stream of people came through to OOOooOOo and Aaaahhh over him, petting him, touching him, and he didn't once get spooked.
He once got stuck in a tree, about 20 feet off the ground. Declawed, he didn't have a means of climbing DOWN and he refused to jump. I guess the towel I was holding out didn't look inviting enough Fortunately my ten year old neighbor-boy was currently sitting 30 feet up a tree reading a book, so he was a natural choice to send after my wayward son. He got into a fight with a possum once, and had to have an open gaping wound draining out of his chest for three weeks.
A couple of years ago, I had to leave him (and my other cat) for several weeks alone in the house with nothing but a food/water bowl and a litter box. A Category 4 Hurricane blew through town, knocking out electricity, trees, freeways, bridges, and much much more. For some odd reason, the woman who was watching him decided it was too much trouble to check on them regularly. (Something about a hurricane getting in the way?) With the airport closed, I couldn't fly home. Some cats will get pissy with you when you leave them alone too long - D'Art greeted me the same as always, with love and affection, purring, sitting next to me, and curling up against my legs like nothing unusual had happened. But he seemed a little afraid of letting me leave again.
A year later when I left the country for three weeks (this time intentionally), my roommate was watching over him, and I took each of his toes, and visualized the sun rising and setting on each one. I believe some animals have a higher form of intelligence than we give them credit for, but sometimes you have to speak to them in pictures - I wanted him to know that I would be gone for 21 days, and I felt like this was a way I could communicate that. For the 21st day, I visualized the sunrise/sunset again and kissed his face, pressing my nose again him Eskimo-style. When I returned, tired, weakened, sore, and ever so glad to be home, he hopped up on the bed and pressed his nose against mine in the same way - as if he'd been counting the days until my return.
It's been two years since that day, and he's still just as mellow and affectionate as he ever was.....as long as the sun isn't shining. When the sun is out, and it's 80 degrees, he's more like "Thanks for dinner - can I go out now???". I've seen him for all of about ten minutes in the last four days - ninety percent of which was him running to the food bowl and back again.
-BT
Cream tabbies, by nature, seem to be extremely mellow and D'Art is no exception. The day I got him, he was just a young buck - a teenager - perhaps 4-5 months old, which puts his birthday some time around the first of April, a fitting birthday for such a mischievously innocent creature. I specifically wanted a cat who *liked* other cats, as I wanted to get him a companion, and he was sharing a cage with a fellow shelter-kitty. Yes, he's adopted, but I haven't broken the news to him yet. After only 20 minutes or so, I completed the paperwork. I asked if he had a name, and the lady said it was "Dar-TAN-EE-on". Cringing only slightly, I helped her correct the spelling (and pronunciation) of his name. A name made famous by Alexandre Dumas, the fourth Musketeer is often remembered as primarily a lover, not a fighter, and D'Art lives up to his name.
I stopped by work to show off my new-found companion, and he proceeded to stretch out full length on the reception desk and let fifty people rub his belly. Watch out - House Cat on Duty. Well, maybe not at THIS house. We were there for well over an hour, as this steady stream of people came through to OOOooOOo and Aaaahhh over him, petting him, touching him, and he didn't once get spooked.
He once got stuck in a tree, about 20 feet off the ground. Declawed, he didn't have a means of climbing DOWN and he refused to jump. I guess the towel I was holding out didn't look inviting enough Fortunately my ten year old neighbor-boy was currently sitting 30 feet up a tree reading a book, so he was a natural choice to send after my wayward son. He got into a fight with a possum once, and had to have an open gaping wound draining out of his chest for three weeks.
A couple of years ago, I had to leave him (and my other cat) for several weeks alone in the house with nothing but a food/water bowl and a litter box. A Category 4 Hurricane blew through town, knocking out electricity, trees, freeways, bridges, and much much more. For some odd reason, the woman who was watching him decided it was too much trouble to check on them regularly. (Something about a hurricane getting in the way?) With the airport closed, I couldn't fly home. Some cats will get pissy with you when you leave them alone too long - D'Art greeted me the same as always, with love and affection, purring, sitting next to me, and curling up against my legs like nothing unusual had happened. But he seemed a little afraid of letting me leave again. A year later when I left the country for three weeks (this time intentionally), my roommate was watching over him, and I took each of his toes, and visualized the sun rising and setting on each one. I believe some animals have a higher form of intelligence than we give them credit for, but sometimes you have to speak to them in pictures - I wanted him to know that I would be gone for 21 days, and I felt like this was a way I could communicate that. For the 21st day, I visualized the sunrise/sunset again and kissed his face, pressing my nose again him Eskimo-style. When I returned, tired, weakened, sore, and ever so glad to be home, he hopped up on the bed and pressed his nose against mine in the same way - as if he'd been counting the days until my return.
It's been two years since that day, and he's still just as mellow and affectionate as he ever was.....as long as the sun isn't shining. When the sun is out, and it's 80 degrees, he's more like "Thanks for dinner - can I go out now???". I've seen him for all of about ten minutes in the last four days - ninety percent of which was him running to the food bowl and back again.
-BT
Sunday, May 27, 2007
The Mutual Admiration Society
In everyone's life, there are people that you're kind of obligated to be nice to - because you work with them, because you're related to them, because you live with them. To some, I am one of those people.
I have several people in my life, both family and acquaintances, that I *really* like and admire. They are cool, fun, amazing people that have done some pretty unique things. I enjoy spending time with them, and hanging out.....but at times, I get the feeling that it isn't mutual. Not that they DIS-like me - they just don't think of me. For Christmas or other special occasions, usually yes, but when it comes to what to do on Saturday night, or who to call when they want to talk - it isn't me.
In some ways, this isolation is my own doing. I move around a lot. I left the state for five years. I'm terrible about returning phone calls or listening to my voice mail. I do have friends that I hang out with regularly, but I'm really wanting to expand my circle of friends - and even my current friends tend to hang out with me one-on-one, so I'm not meeting anyone new through them. It seems like most of the people I know live thousands of miles away, so I spend too much time in front of a monitor instead of sharing time with people in real life.
So I've started trying to break out a bit - asking people to do things, going to more events out of my comfort zone, and find ways to be more active. I need to initiate a little more with some of these folks, and see if this feeling of rejection is intentional or one of benign neglect. Several people have mentioned things they'd LIKE to do with me - we just never do. Maybe I need to put those "we should do lunch" folks to the test.
I can't change how other people feel.....but I can at least change how I participate in this play. And maybe I'll find out we *do* belong to the mutual admiration society. Or I'll find someone who does.
--BT
I have several people in my life, both family and acquaintances, that I *really* like and admire. They are cool, fun, amazing people that have done some pretty unique things. I enjoy spending time with them, and hanging out.....but at times, I get the feeling that it isn't mutual. Not that they DIS-like me - they just don't think of me. For Christmas or other special occasions, usually yes, but when it comes to what to do on Saturday night, or who to call when they want to talk - it isn't me.
In some ways, this isolation is my own doing. I move around a lot. I left the state for five years. I'm terrible about returning phone calls or listening to my voice mail. I do have friends that I hang out with regularly, but I'm really wanting to expand my circle of friends - and even my current friends tend to hang out with me one-on-one, so I'm not meeting anyone new through them. It seems like most of the people I know live thousands of miles away, so I spend too much time in front of a monitor instead of sharing time with people in real life.
So I've started trying to break out a bit - asking people to do things, going to more events out of my comfort zone, and find ways to be more active. I need to initiate a little more with some of these folks, and see if this feeling of rejection is intentional or one of benign neglect. Several people have mentioned things they'd LIKE to do with me - we just never do. Maybe I need to put those "we should do lunch" folks to the test.
I can't change how other people feel.....but I can at least change how I participate in this play. And maybe I'll find out we *do* belong to the mutual admiration society. Or I'll find someone who does.
--BT
Thursday, May 24, 2007
Tal Vez
My day started much earlier than usual - 5am, and the cats were looking at me like I was interrupting their beauty sleep. Every morning this week, I have searched for reasons why I *shouldn't* call in sick. I'm not sick - just tired, actually, but I don't get the chance to catch up on my sleep. And every morning this week, I've arrived to find an email from my boss, saying he's out again today. If I didn't like the guy so much, I'd have to hate him for that. Lucky bastard. :) Of course, HE doesn't think so - he's fighting the mutant lung fungi from hell. My main co-worker has also called in sick, but at least for today, I have a replacement for him. Thank god.
So there I am, trying to learn a few things from one of the gurus in my department - things that would be a tad helpful since I'm going to be filling in for him for a couple of days. Three impromptu meetings and three bottles of water later, I've still barely had a chance to say Good Morning, and he's leaving in an hour (40 minutes, he corrected me). Ah yes.
Now this is not the only training I've had - I spent well over 40 hours learning what he does, and I do keep a hand in it now and then.....but it's been a good six months since I've touched on the fundamentals, and he's leaving in a hour. Or 40 minutes. (It actually turned out to *be* an hour, but then he was running late - Ooops!)
I now have five projects I'm working on, and/or heading up, and I thought I had a momentary lull. Two projects are rolling along pretty much without me. One is my pet project and can move at whatever pace I need. The fourth is my primary job, which I turned over to someone else for the day, and the fifth......well, that's why I was trying to soak up some rays from the expert this morning. Then something broke, and my mind went blank. I *know* what to do, I had almost everything taken care of. Then I got to one step and felt the grey matter begin to crystallize into slush.
It wasn't long after that, that I realized I'd been there over nine and a half hours, and hadn't taken lunch. Oh, don't get me wrong - I didn't go ten hours without FOOD. I just went ten hours non-stop without stopping to breathe.
As busy as I was, I still sat there on lunch and went - Did I actually *DO* anything today? Tal Vez (Perhaps.)
So there I am, trying to learn a few things from one of the gurus in my department - things that would be a tad helpful since I'm going to be filling in for him for a couple of days. Three impromptu meetings and three bottles of water later, I've still barely had a chance to say Good Morning, and he's leaving in an hour (40 minutes, he corrected me). Ah yes.
Now this is not the only training I've had - I spent well over 40 hours learning what he does, and I do keep a hand in it now and then.....but it's been a good six months since I've touched on the fundamentals, and he's leaving in a hour. Or 40 minutes. (It actually turned out to *be* an hour, but then he was running late - Ooops!)
I now have five projects I'm working on, and/or heading up, and I thought I had a momentary lull. Two projects are rolling along pretty much without me. One is my pet project and can move at whatever pace I need. The fourth is my primary job, which I turned over to someone else for the day, and the fifth......well, that's why I was trying to soak up some rays from the expert this morning. Then something broke, and my mind went blank. I *know* what to do, I had almost everything taken care of. Then I got to one step and felt the grey matter begin to crystallize into slush.
It wasn't long after that, that I realized I'd been there over nine and a half hours, and hadn't taken lunch. Oh, don't get me wrong - I didn't go ten hours without FOOD. I just went ten hours non-stop without stopping to breathe.
As busy as I was, I still sat there on lunch and went - Did I actually *DO* anything today? Tal Vez (Perhaps.)
Friday, May 18, 2007
Slough
I've always liked this word - it's magic to me. To shed or cast off the past, and start fresh. It's a fascinating form of rejuvenation. Like a snake shedding its skin, we slough off the parts of our lives that we have outgrown, slipping off the clothing that doesn't fit anymore.
I'm at that point it seems- where one cycle ends and another begins, moving back to the first home I purchased nearly a decade ago. And oddly enough, I'm back working for a new version of the company I worked for back then. But it only looks the same. I've changed, and my life has changed in a myriad of ways.
And now I start the physical renewal process called remodeling. New paint, new carpet, updating things here and there, adjusting, meddling, tampering with the little pieces of reality that form the four walls of my sanctuary. I've been in limbo for over a year.....living with my brother, my things in storage, my life on hold. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting....
I feel like I can hardly catch my breath, that I can't get enough air, now that the waiting is almost over. My stuff is en route. I have the carpet picked out. I know what I want to do, and I want it done *yesterday*. I'm ready. Ready to take action. Ready to be done with it all. Ready to start fresh.
But I can't.....I still have endings to finish, things to do, pieces of deadwood from my life to be sloughed off.
Maybe tomorrow.
I'm at that point it seems- where one cycle ends and another begins, moving back to the first home I purchased nearly a decade ago. And oddly enough, I'm back working for a new version of the company I worked for back then. But it only looks the same. I've changed, and my life has changed in a myriad of ways.
And now I start the physical renewal process called remodeling. New paint, new carpet, updating things here and there, adjusting, meddling, tampering with the little pieces of reality that form the four walls of my sanctuary. I've been in limbo for over a year.....living with my brother, my things in storage, my life on hold. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting....
I feel like I can hardly catch my breath, that I can't get enough air, now that the waiting is almost over. My stuff is en route. I have the carpet picked out. I know what I want to do, and I want it done *yesterday*. I'm ready. Ready to take action. Ready to be done with it all. Ready to start fresh.
But I can't.....I still have endings to finish, things to do, pieces of deadwood from my life to be sloughed off.
Maybe tomorrow.
Sunday, May 13, 2007
Spontaneity Be Damned
When did I get a life?
Normally I start thinking about plans for the weekend around Wednesday or Thursday, yet for some reason I have plans for nearly every weekend between now and the end of summer. I'm remodeling my condo, moving, going camping, then there's the Mariners (3 games), Harry Potter (the book), Harry Potter (the movie), birthday parties times three, probably river rafting with my cousins from Africa on their way to Venezuela, wine-tasting, motorcycling. I've got three groups of people I'm going out with fairly regularly, plus individual friends.
Not to mention this is THE summer of sequel movies - SpiderMan 3 just came out, Fantastic 4 - Rise of the Silver Surfer, Transformers, Live Free or Die Hard, Shrek 3, Pirates Of The Caribbean 3 , Rush Hour 3, and of course - Harry Potter.
In some ways, it's very cool and in others - it's tiring just *thinking* about it. But unlike my life of a couple of years ago, my plans are not centered around surviving funerals, surgery, hurricanes & other natural disasters. I'll take it!
--BT
Normally I start thinking about plans for the weekend around Wednesday or Thursday, yet for some reason I have plans for nearly every weekend between now and the end of summer. I'm remodeling my condo, moving, going camping, then there's the Mariners (3 games), Harry Potter (the book), Harry Potter (the movie), birthday parties times three, probably river rafting with my cousins from Africa on their way to Venezuela, wine-tasting, motorcycling. I've got three groups of people I'm going out with fairly regularly, plus individual friends.
Not to mention this is THE summer of sequel movies - SpiderMan 3 just came out, Fantastic 4 - Rise of the Silver Surfer, Transformers, Live Free or Die Hard, Shrek 3, Pirates Of The Caribbean 3 , Rush Hour 3, and of course - Harry Potter.
In some ways, it's very cool and in others - it's tiring just *thinking* about it. But unlike my life of a couple of years ago, my plans are not centered around surviving funerals, surgery, hurricanes & other natural disasters. I'll take it!
--BT
Friday, May 11, 2007
I Wish I Had Cancer
That's what Richard said to me one day, and he meant it.
Richard was an odd duck that I worked with back in Texas. The year was 1994. He was a few years older than me, maybe 30-35 years. He grew up in a rural area, east of Dallas, had travelled around the world, and just recently had come home to live. Or die, as the case may be.
He'd never married, but came close once. His fiancee had been killed in an auto accident a few months before their wedding. It was an event he would live to fully grieve twice in his life.
His father had been an Over The Road (OTR) driver for many years, and loved the open road. He wanted Richard to follow in his footsteps, and made him promise to try it for two years. He did, and hated every minute of it. But out of love for his family, and respect for his father, he gave it the full two years, to the day.
For a while, he was a customs agent, working along the border. Now THAT was a job he loved - there's a certain amount of power & authority that came with it that made him feel good. He described, with a bit of glee, some incidents where he got the upper hand with people who came through - he could search, confiscate and destroy property with abandon, without the legal constraints that hinder the police. No search warrant needed!
Something happened - he never said what - and a group of them were forced to 'retire', and change their names. He thought about it for a while, and chose a new identity. The day he showed up in court for the name change, he made a spur of the moment decision, and chose the Judge's last name instead for his new life.
One day he was on an airplane, sitting next to a priest. They got to chatting, and the Priest invited him to Hawaii to work in his mission - room & board provided, plus a small stipend for living expenses. Poverty to be sure, but Hawaii nonetheless! He lived there for about four years, enjoying the island life, the sunshine, the breezes and the people. It was there he met the young woman who changed his life.
She gave him AIDS.
Back then, AIDS was a death sentence. It had really only been around about ten years, and there wasn't much that was known about controlling it, living with it. His family was there for him, taking care of him, being with him through the final days, in many ways but one.
AIDS had a reputation of being 'the Gay Disease', and getting it (especially in homophobic Texas) held a certain stigma, and embarrassment that other diseases didn't have. His family was ashamed of him. He might as well have had leprosy, and been banished to a leper colony for all the support and understanding he received at home. The man who sacrificed two years of his life to live his father's dream was suddenly the family's nightmare.
At first, he told the people at work that he had cancer. My brother had died of cancer, and my mother was going through it, so I knew that was a lie. From the lesions he had, I'd already guessed the truth the day he decided to confess. We accepted him, and supported him as he went through his trials, and for a while - we were his family.
When we talked about regrets, choices in life, and the left-turns that come along, he grieved for his lost love. You can't live your life on what ifs, but sometimes you have to wonder - would he be dying today if she had lived?
"I wish I had cancer", he said. "I've lived a full life, and don't want to ask for more....but I wish I could give my family a respectable death." That really struck me - that even at this late date, he felt like his family's love was conditional. He left email for all of us the day he quit, little pieces of humor, shared stories and inside jokes.
My wish is that everyone who dies of an insidious disease - whether it be AIDS or cancer, morbid obesity or diabetes - has lived their life to the fullest, knows unconditional love, and feels sure that their death is a respectable one.
It may be too much to expect, but it's never too much to ask.
--BT
Richard was an odd duck that I worked with back in Texas. The year was 1994. He was a few years older than me, maybe 30-35 years. He grew up in a rural area, east of Dallas, had travelled around the world, and just recently had come home to live. Or die, as the case may be.
He'd never married, but came close once. His fiancee had been killed in an auto accident a few months before their wedding. It was an event he would live to fully grieve twice in his life.
His father had been an Over The Road (OTR) driver for many years, and loved the open road. He wanted Richard to follow in his footsteps, and made him promise to try it for two years. He did, and hated every minute of it. But out of love for his family, and respect for his father, he gave it the full two years, to the day.
For a while, he was a customs agent, working along the border. Now THAT was a job he loved - there's a certain amount of power & authority that came with it that made him feel good. He described, with a bit of glee, some incidents where he got the upper hand with people who came through - he could search, confiscate and destroy property with abandon, without the legal constraints that hinder the police. No search warrant needed!
Something happened - he never said what - and a group of them were forced to 'retire', and change their names. He thought about it for a while, and chose a new identity. The day he showed up in court for the name change, he made a spur of the moment decision, and chose the Judge's last name instead for his new life.
One day he was on an airplane, sitting next to a priest. They got to chatting, and the Priest invited him to Hawaii to work in his mission - room & board provided, plus a small stipend for living expenses. Poverty to be sure, but Hawaii nonetheless! He lived there for about four years, enjoying the island life, the sunshine, the breezes and the people. It was there he met the young woman who changed his life.
She gave him AIDS.
Back then, AIDS was a death sentence. It had really only been around about ten years, and there wasn't much that was known about controlling it, living with it. His family was there for him, taking care of him, being with him through the final days, in many ways but one.
AIDS had a reputation of being 'the Gay Disease', and getting it (especially in homophobic Texas) held a certain stigma, and embarrassment that other diseases didn't have. His family was ashamed of him. He might as well have had leprosy, and been banished to a leper colony for all the support and understanding he received at home. The man who sacrificed two years of his life to live his father's dream was suddenly the family's nightmare.
At first, he told the people at work that he had cancer. My brother had died of cancer, and my mother was going through it, so I knew that was a lie. From the lesions he had, I'd already guessed the truth the day he decided to confess. We accepted him, and supported him as he went through his trials, and for a while - we were his family.
When we talked about regrets, choices in life, and the left-turns that come along, he grieved for his lost love. You can't live your life on what ifs, but sometimes you have to wonder - would he be dying today if she had lived?
"I wish I had cancer", he said. "I've lived a full life, and don't want to ask for more....but I wish I could give my family a respectable death." That really struck me - that even at this late date, he felt like his family's love was conditional. He left email for all of us the day he quit, little pieces of humor, shared stories and inside jokes.
My wish is that everyone who dies of an insidious disease - whether it be AIDS or cancer, morbid obesity or diabetes - has lived their life to the fullest, knows unconditional love, and feels sure that their death is a respectable one.
It may be too much to expect, but it's never too much to ask.
--BT
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