Long Time No Hear, Eh?

I was walking out of work the other day.  Wait, what??!!  Did I just say work???  Yup, I have been working for over a month, and I really like it. 

Anyway, I was walking out of work the other day, and I was thinking about how good I was feeling and how awful I had been feeling three years ago.  Three years ago, my wonderful little sister-in-law was very sick; we were just days from finding out about her stage four cancer that would take her in just two months.  But, I was also in one of the worse career decisions of my life.  Just a couple of months earlier, I had met with two people in an organization that I thought I wanted to be part of, and I was now there...in hell.

I have always thought that you should listen to your gut when it lets you know something is "off" about someone or something.  I felt this the day I was invited to a staff meeting in my new department and watched my new manager laser in on the others at the table.  I wondered if that was particular to that day, or did she always do that...pick off victims.  The second time was when I was moving into my new desk -- in front of hers -- and she was having a mini meltdown.  I should have heeded my "gut" and run away back to my former organization. 

Anyway, the next couple of months were awful on so many levels, particularly with losing my wonderful sister-in-law.  At work, I was the closest target to the childish tantrums of my boss, and I found myself conflicted in my feelings because she was so talented and yet so awful.  She was very good about my taking time to leave so I could help with the caregiving of my sister-in-law; I would have left anyway...really.

I am just so glad to be away from that toxic feeling and being in a place where I need to watch my back.  I am grateful to be close to home and to be working with people who are dedicated to helping others dealing with the devastating effects of dementia.  Quirky?  Sure, but then who isn't, right?

Good Things Come to Those Who Wait, and Wait, and Wait, and Wait, and Wait, and...you get the picture...

So, in my last entry, I was wailing at the end about not getting any calls for interviews, right?  It appears that the gods of wailers somehow heard me, and BOOM...I got calls to come into three...count 'em three interviews in one week.  Pretty cool.

The first one was at a company that produces a product that is ingested by humans, but has research labs...whatta think that means?  I'm thinking there are small animals connected to things that small animals should not be connected to and maybe ingesting or having something dripped into eyes or other orifices...how about you?  The interview went well, but then I was off to the second interview the next day.  This one also went well, and I found that I had a connection with one of the people interviewing, from a previous corporate job, and get this, no one was in their 20s or 30s...they were actual grownups...can you friggin' stand it?  Yeh, so as I was driving home after the interview, I called my husband and said, "I want this job."  Later that day, I was asked to return for a second interview the next day, but was after I had already made a third interview for the next day...dio mio!  It's either feast or famine.  You're either sitting on the sidelines or making that game-winning touchdown, or drinking punch alone or hauling a full dance card...am I making any sense?

Soooo...I scheduled the follow-up interview within minutes of the other one (which I figured would not go more than an hour).  Fortunately, they were within 10 minutes of each other, and I got to the second interview on time.

And, I was sitting at my computer that weekend, and lo and behold, I get a call from the one that I said I wanted to work at, and they offer me the job...at a salary that is scads lower than I was making at the previous employer, but scads more than unemployment...and with benefits.  They had me at hello, so to speak, and I went into "work" to cross train with the person I was replacing, and yesterday was my first, full day on my own at my new job that is only seven miles away...how do you like that?!

I am hopeful to stay with this employer for a long time.  "Long" is a relative term when you get to a (ahem) certain age, if you know what I mean.  I am pleasantly psyched and looking forward to working with what is a mostly female (yeh, I know, I know) staff.  We'll see, I'm pretty good at not sweating the small stuff, and not worrying about this or that, right?

I accept your congratulations and best wishes...gracie!

Subaru...What Have the Miles Done to You?

Remember when I was sooooo impressed about my freshly colored hair and my full tank of gas in my car and my completed bachelor's degree?  Yeah, well, the universe got especially grumpy, and almost killed my little 104,000+ mile Subie. 

I was pulling out of my driveway to go to the gym (a "perk" of being unemployed...having the time), and my car had some issues going into gear (it's an automatic).  As I passed the village policeman on our street (waiting for stop-sign violators), I did not notice that he was trying to wave me down.  I pulled out onto Rt. 9 and chugged the .6 mile to the gym and knew that the transmission was very, very ill.  I did the next best thing...I chugged back home without the benefits of the elliptical or bike...or at least attempted to chug home.  My poor little car gave it up just as I was trying to make the turn after being a good girl and stopping at the stop sign.  That policeman came up behind me as white smoke wafted its way around and up my car.  He had actually tried to catch me because my car dumped tranny fluid right outside of my driveway...who knew, right?  Anyway, three burlie local policemen pushed my Subie to rest just across from our house and out of the way of traffic.  This is when membership in the AAA comes in handy...they towed it up to the Subaru dealer (less than two miles away), and left it for them to diagnose what happened.  My husband thought it was a hose -- hoped it was a hose -- and that it would be okay.  If not...and the transmission was crapped out...it would be a very bad thing.

Anyway, the diagnosis was that the radiator connection between it and the transmission blew and bled the fluid out...no damage to the transmission, and my car actually was fixed and the a/c and external thermometer work better -- my husband believes that when they did the work, they cleaned all connections, and the thermostat for the thermometer was a beneficiary for that -- I just know you were anxious to know that.

Oh, and no friggin' calls for interviews. 

All Dressed Up and Nowhere to Go

So I said to my husband that this would be a good week for me to be called in for an interview because...my hair is freshly colored (thanks to Revlon) and my car has a full tank of gas, AND my schedule is free...hellooooo!

I totally lost all self-respect and actually wrote a personal letter to an HR person at one of the places I've applied to over this past year-and-one-half (and applied, and applied, and applied...) to see if I could garner some attention to the number of applications I've submitted.  I figured, "nothing ventured..." 

I mean, has anyone noticed that this economy is bad...huh?  Oh, and besides the whole hair and car gas tank -- which are fleetingly temporary -- I have a completed college degree which is not...more or less.

Geez...

Death of Innocence

As you may or may not know, we foster several stray cats outside of our house.  Along with others in our village, we are trying to curtail the "dating" habits of strays by capturing them, spaying/neutering and releasing them -- all at our own expense.  Let's face it, cats are sluts, and as soon as a female has (more or less) weaned her kittens, she's looking for the next tall-dark stranger.

In any case, we are doing our best to get these loose kitties off the streets and tested for diseases.  Unfortunately, there is one big gray male tom cat who has made it his mission to impregnate as many loose ladies as he can possibly do in as little time as possible.  This has resulted in a few litters that we are in the process of trying to get captured and placed.  And, unfortunately again, the cat rescue organizations, the SPCA, and foster organizations are overwhelmed, so we have no place to place these little guys, so we have kittens in the yard...or HAD kittens in the yard until last Thursday.

We have lived in this neighborhood in this house for over 30 years.  We have never ever had any issues with any neighbors.  I am not a nosy neighbor, and the fact that I've been working full time (until last January...'nother story), has kept me even more out of the loop as to new neighbors and their personalities and such.  We are close to our long-time neighbors, but there is a family right across the street from us that we just wave to occasionally.  Their son (I never even knew Mom was pregnant with him until we saw her carrying him across to the park) has a habit (he's about 8 or 9...maybe even 24...who the hell knows) of playing ball, riding bikes, sleigh riding, etc. on not only his yard, but others' as well.  We don't have any tempting hills on our lot, so he's not tempted to come over here at all.  Maybe it's old fashioned of me, but I believe you should teach your kids NOT to go onto other people's property without permission.  And, that goes for your dogs -- no matter what temptations are on the other people's property...there lies the rub.

Last Thursday, we were watching kittens tumbling and attacking each other in our back yard.  It was adorable, and they were enjoying the weather and just being young and adorable.  Then, my son shouted to me that the neighbor's dog was torpedo-ing towards our yard, and we heard the most horrific screaming that will never, ever be erased from our memories.  That big dog (lab/boxer mix) had gone after the kittens and had grabbed one in his giant mouth and was not letting go, despite my screaming at him and slapping the piss out of him.  That little baby was screaming and fighting for his/her life, and the dog was friggin' relentless.  In the meantime, the woman who owns said dog was calling out for him, and he ignored her, and she never ever came up to him to grab him at all.  My son whistled, and that caught the dog's attention, and he dropped the  kitten who crawled under a pine tree.  I didn't go under the tree to check on him because I did not want to further traumatize him; I wish I had checked on him.  The dog eventually followed his mistress' commands, and we were left with wondering what happened to that baby.  That was the last time we saw any kittens playing, and the adults were spooked for a couple of days.

A few days ago, when I went out to feed the cats, I told my husband that I smelled something really bad, and I wondered if that little one had died and was under the tree.  My heart broke thinking about it.  Yesterday, we had some landscaping done, and one of the guys said that he found a dead cat in the area where he was going to work.  Let me tell you, you can be told what a maggot-infested body looks like, but you cannot fully appreciate it until you've actually seen the sight.  That poor baby must have crawled to the back of our house and died sometime after the attack, and we never saw him.  There, the maggots very efficiently disposed of most of him, along with these beetle things...there must have been thousands of them...even crawling up the side of our house.  Now, you know that maggots eventually become flies, right?

Well, lord love that kid, he assisted me in getting what was left of that baby into three plastic bags.  I fastened the bag and was ready to bring it to my neighbors' house, but thought better of it.  I hosed down the area -- the smell over overwhelming -- and then poured Lysol all over it, then hosed it again, then soaked it with bug spray (four full cans) including the side of our house.  It was one of the saddest and grossest things I have ever done, and I was so overcome with sadness and the feeling that I should have done more to stop that bastard of a dog.

Don't get me wrong, I love dogs, but I wanted that dog dead.  More, though, I wanted his owners to take responsibility for his lack of training and response when I was trying to get him to stop. 

So today, as I was coming home from the gym, and my son was heading out to work, he told me that the dog had run over to our yard again.  My son was able to get him and he ran back home, but still.  That dog killed a kitten!  I was livid and I went from my car to the neighbors' house.  Their oldest daughter was there, but the parents were not.  I told her about the kitten (she had no idea), and said that I hoped they would get the dog trained because we cannot have a dog coming over to our yard and killing kittens or cats, and to please tell her parents.

About an hour later, we had her mother at our door who spat out about how much cat shit was in their yard and how the cats were killing the birds that she was feeding (really???  you know there are stray cats around, and you're providing them with an open buffet???) and that she does not particularly like cats and found one dead in her driveway (I wonder which one) and that her dog was an abused rescue dog and he hates cats.  So I told her that we are doing all we can to stave off additional litters and spending our own money doing so and that she needs to keep her dog on their yard.  Oh, and she informed me that they did indeed have the dog in training, but his abuse issues come into play, and that he hates cats.  I was remarkably calm, given that I had this shit-spitting chick with her religious medals in my living room.

My son explained that we all love animals and that he would never ever hurt a dog or any animal, but it was close for her dog.  Only when he whistled did that dog stop and pay attention, and that was because, she explained, his hearing was affected by the abuse.  I said we will have to work together, but we cannot have him coming over, and she said how they're putting up an electronic fence to keep him there, but what are we going to do about the cats because he hates cats.  I said we will continue doing what we're doing -- oh, and she wanted us to stop feeding the cats -- as if! 

Listen, I love dogs...grew up with them.  However, if I see any animal abusing another, I will protect the attacked one, and that goes for humans abusing an animal or another human, for that matter.  I get the distinct feeling that they would think nothing of killing the cats who wander into their yard.  I don't understand people like that who think they are so righteous with their friggin' religious medals and have no regard for life.

Auuuugggghhh.  The woman did not care that her dog is now a killer.  I am on the lookout for that dog coming over.  I am so sad about that baby and so angry about this woman.  She obviously cannot control her son from trespassing, so I'm guessing the poor dog is even less of a concern.

I don't blame the dog at all; he is a product of the abuse and the lack of control of his current owners.  However, I will not stand by while he comes into my yard again.  And, that is the name of THAT tune!

Such a Pretty New Bathroom...Makes Me Flush

I really do believe that in a previous life I really, really had to "go" and -- for whatever reason -- I was unable to find a private shrub or cave so this has marked me through the ages.  It's the reason my ideal house would have four bedrooms and 16 bathrooms, I'm thinking.

Anyway, the bathroom is functional in the sense of having the toilet and sink working, and that is a big-time advantage.  We're waiting on the granite to be cut for the threshold and the shower, then we can order the doors to the shower, and walla!  Oh, and there's a gaping hole where the over-the-sink light was going to be located, but that didn't work out once the medicine cabinet was installed.

In the meantime, our older male cat (10 years old) has finally settled himself down.  We're thinking that the installation of a new chimney liner and stove in the living room done the poor, nervous psycho in...it was the proverbial last straw for a cat who appeared to hold it together for the last five weeks what with all the comings and goings of big burlie strangers.  This cat began to over groom himself, and let me tell you, it is not cool to see pieces of fur around the house that resembles the aftermath of a fight-to-the-death match with 50 or more animals. 

Of course, with the over grooming comes the mighty hair balls.  If you think that hair balls look like balls, you have never ever lived with a cat.  They are a long, slimy tube-like things that are solid hair...a real ewwww sight for sure.  We ended up bringing him to the vet's and having him tested for stuff  -- like possible ingestion of one or more of the toxic substances that have been used in the new bathroom.  Fortunately, he tested healthy and settled himself into a new normal (for him).  It's always the pretty ones that are the craziest, right?

Marriage...As Interpreted by Conservatives

So, we have been getting endless phones calls from a Washington DC number that does not leave any messages.  Sooooo...I looked up the number (202-630-7993) and guess who it is..."The National Organization of Marriage" or NOM.  Yeh, so these are the folks who are calling with a survey that asks a question that goes something like this:  Do you believe that marriage should be limited between a man and a woman? 

It wouldn't have been so bad, but I did send them an email earlier this week to tell them to take their hatred elsewhere and stop calling the house.  BIG MISTAKE...the crazies are now sending me emails...even though I chose to opt out of them.    Aaaauuuuugggghhhh!

By the way, my answer was "no" to their dumbass question and a hang up by me.  They are targeting NYS because of the vote in Albany about legalizing marriage for gays and lesbians.  What is wrong with people?  Stop bringing your narrow-mindedness into it as you wrap yourself up in your so-called religious, know-it-all-about-the-Bible (or whatever).  This is not a religious issue...it's a legal issue that is geared to giving everyone equality in the benefits that being married brings -- especially medical benefits -- and just plain acknowledgement that they count as a couple who love each other and who happen to be of the same gender.  Does it take anything away from anyone?

Auuugggghhhhhh!!!!

If the Universe is Listening...Could You Toss a Job My Way???

So, I just heard back from a college I had interviewed at last week.  Yup, it was a "thanks-but-no-thanks" email. 

My daughter told me that I'm getting closer and that the universe will listen, but I'm thinking as I'm getting closer, I'm also getting no younger.  I'm also thinking that the universe is biased against more "mature" people.  The thing is, the job paid crap, but it was close to home, the people were great, and it was a job and place I totally saw myself being part of...waaahhh!

In the meantime, I drove 35 miles (one way) yesterday to another job interview in a corporate setting, and it was good.  Could I do the job?  Absolutely, and it would make use of my years in a corporate setting, but that college job just felt right, you know?  My husband would rather me not drive that far, and I would rather not drive that far, but it pays fairly well, and I really need to get back to a working life. 

So, universe, could you cut me some slack and return me to the land of the employed -- with benefits?

Thanks.

Bathroom Renovation -- Week 4

Let me just say that I totally adore the guys doing the work in our bathroom.  They are really good at what they do, and are nice to boot.  However...I would very much like them to leave now...like really now.

The bathroom is looking really great, and I am sure they are so ready to leave here also, despite hanging out with us from morning til afternoon, and except for potty and lunch breaks, these two guys are cranking.  They're very nice to boot.

Of course, our two male cats are so freaked out that they have used the utmost control to not have to eat or use the litter box while the guys are here.  Amazing and so zen.  Our daughter is visiting before she heads to LA...please...a moment.  Anyway, her old room...again...a moment...is totally involved with the renovations, so she's on a blow-up mattress in the middle of the living room.  What a trooper!

So, hopefully, by this time next week, we will have at least the potty part of the bathroom available to us.

Later...I think I have to "go" now.

When Music Touches Your Soul and Internal Organs

So, when you're at an event, and the music is soooo loud that you can feel your spleen and pancreas moving to the beat, that's a bad thing, right?

We attended a wedding on Friday evening (very nice, actually, considering the whole "Hatfields and McCoys" vibe between the two families).  The venue was typical event space with glittery chandeliers and such, and the food was adequate.  However, the music was pounding, thanks to a very enthusiastic DJ who kept the decibels cranked up to internal-organ boogeying level.

The majority of the guests were in their teens, 20s, and 30s, so I get that, but a bit more Sinatra and the like could have slowed the pace down a bit and given everyone's eardrums and body time to adjust and relax a little while until the next assault.

God, just listen to me, I sound so friggin' old!  I remember going to clubs and dancing to live bands that rocked the night away.  Now, when I see all the bouncing up and down, I have sympathy headaches for everyone...yikes!

The bride and groom looked like they were rocking to a good time, and that is the important thing, right?  There were no down and dirty drunken fights, and the weather cooperated to an extent, although it was fairly humid...thank God for air conditioning.  We were home by 11 p.m., and that was just about right for me.  My pancreas, lungs, and the like appreciated getting home to settle back into their usual spots inside my body, and my ear drum was able to beat to its own rhythm.

Best wishes to the bride and groom, and may they separate themselves from the influence of their respective families so they are able to forge their own path.

The 4 p.m. Dilemma

Okay...full disclosure...I actually watched the last three shows.  There, I feel so much better.  Oh, what last three shows?  That would be "The Oprah Winfrey Show."  Yup, since I'm pretty much on vacation now that I'm no longer in school (yippee and hello 3.6 final GPA!), I have free time, and I figured, what the heck.

I really had no serious intention of doing so, and nothing against Oprah at all, but things just worked out.  Once I saw the first of the last three days, I was invested.  And, I have to tell you, those two "surprise" shows with all the real people that Oprah had touched over the last 25 years and all the stars and such was really, well, touching.  I actually had tears in my eyes for those two shows.  The last show, meh.  That one was the one where Oprah just kind of hung out with her audience in her studio -- as opposed to the Chicago CitiCenter -- and kind of talked about stuff.  It was okay, and when that woman tears up, I cannot help responding in like, but nothing flashy.  And that was just right, I'm thinking.

How many times have you accused someone of being "so Oprah" or using "Oprah-Babble" where they've turned into an instant therapist or wise sage when discussing this or that.  Yeh...I've done it too.  Reinvent, authentic you, and so many other terms that are probably connected to Oprah, are tossed around.  If you have reinvented yourself, are you really your authentic you?  Just wondering.

No matter how cynical you are, you have to acknowledge that Oprah has used her so-called power for good and never for evil.  She has brought a lot of whispered evil doings out into the open and has given voice to the victims of those evil doers.  Empowerment is a very important talisman against such evil, and if one person's life was truly and positively affected, it's got to be a good thing, right?

Well, I wish her well.  Her young life was not easy, but she has triumphed and brought along a lot of people with her, and that has to count for something, right?  Besides, having news at 4 p.m. is so way better than another soap opera or friggin' reality show where the pampered are wailing about their vacuous lives.  Have a sweet new future, Oprah.

It's the End of the World As We Know It...or Not

So, another fundamentalist Christian crazy has gone down in hellacious fire and brimstone with regard to predicting the end of the world...for now.  I mean, we're still here, more or less.

How many years have we as a species been foreseeing such end-of-game scenarios...anyone, anyone?  Soooooo...a very long time.  Seems that it's only a matter of time and space that someone will just have to be right, right?

Or, maybe they've been right all along.  After all, somewhere on this earth, someone's world ends every minute of every day.  It doesn't have to be a globe-wide catastrophic killer asteroid or volcanoes or tsunamis or nuclear holocaust that ends the world for someone.  It could be the death of a loved one or a dream that would suffice to be counted as an end-of-the-world event.  Who are we to judge, right?

What gets me about these soothsayers of doom is how easily people tend to follow them into the depths of beliefs.  Are we that desperate?  When the world ends, I'm thinking that we will not have much of a heads up on it, and we will not have much chance of surviving. 

The hereafter is something that none of us really have any experience with, and that may be purposeful on the part of whoever (or whatever) is handling the joystick of the universe.  Personally, I'm not a big believer of the either/or of  heaven/hell.  This is not based on any sudden insight or epiphany on my part, it's just that I have a feeling that we're much too complex a bunch -- and that includes the animals. 

Anyway, for anyone who has felt their world has ended, I am truly sorry for that, and I wish you well.  Don't give up on yourself or others.  Take a breath in and slowly release it thinking of all the other people and places and things that make you smile.

Of Bathrooms and Men...

So, we're having our old, 60-year-old bathroom redone, and let me tell you, it is not a pretty sight.  This is the original bathroom in the house, so it has been the scene of countless baths, showers, and well...you get the picture. 

This was not a nice bathroom to begin with anyway.  It was the typical 1950s long and narrow bathroom, with the basket weave tiles on the floor and the larger tiles on the wall and in the bathtub/shower area.  That wouldn't have been too bad, but the tiles were black and white -- with the black tiles on the wall.  Why?  Now, who thought putting black tiles on the wall was a good idea...really?

Anyway, two very large burlie guys came in and ripped out the sink, toilet, vanity, and wall tiles in what seemed to be a dust cloud of nanoseconds.  Unbelievable!  Did you know that if you don't plug up the pipe for the toilet that you get sewer gasses seeping into your house.  It's a commode-to-abode attack of sorts.  It's pretty ewwwwwwww.  Let's just say what exits via a toilet should stay exited and never, ever return in any form.

In the meantime, the two cats (both boys) are totally freaking out.  We have them sequestered in the living room, and thank goodness for pocket doors.  They haven't even come out to use their own version of a toilet yet today, and it's already close to noon.  The younger, more curious one has slithered around the LR a bit, but as soon as the guys returned from one of their jaunts to get the wood for the subfloor, he has found another hiding place.  He wasn't around when the older male and our two (now deceased...a moment please) females had to endure the kitchen renovation.  Of course, the younger of the females had to plant herself with the contractors...even as they were using the pressurized nail gun.  She had no fear, and sat next to them, purring away.  She was definitely a people cat, and would hang out on the open garage door while they were going back and forth in and out of the house.  She was an inside cat who longed for the freedom of the outside as long as there was someone there to scratch her head and speak sweet nothings to her, and the contractors accommodated because they got a kick out of her.

Anyway, we are three grownups using one bathroom...I'm already tired of the arrangement, and it's only day two of what might turn out to be a two-week...possibly three-week deal.  Ugh!

I am totally not complaining, because the new bathroom will rock upon its completion, and I am grateful that we have the opportunity to do this.  The hardest part for me was to be able to pick out tiles and the like.  Anything more than five selections and my brain starts to overheat.  My husband is so much better and more patient about these things than I am.

So, the new subfloor is going in today.  They started that shortly after dropping their internal organs taking out the cast-iron tub that had to weigh in at about 300 pounds.  Our new tiles are in and ready for pickup as is some of the other stuff.  It's a work in progress, and I'm not making myself crazy because of the dust or dirt tracked into the house.  It's all for a good cause, and I'm psyched to see the results of the hard work.  If you're interested, I'll give occasional updates.

Later...

Dun, Dun, Done!!!

After months of wailing and such, I am done with school!  Can I get a hooray?!

I had my Italian final on Tuesday, and I know I did pretty well on two sections, but am not sure of the other ones, although my Italian professor (love this little girl) told me she glanced at my paragraph, and thought it was good.  I'm just hoping it was my paragraph she had read and not someone else's.

I met with my writing workshop professor yesterday, and he assured me that the lowest grade I would get would be a B+ and maybe I could knock it up to an A- -- all dependent on the final writing project I handed in yesterday.

Now, my wailing will related to my continuing job search.  Keep your fingers and toes crossed -- I have an interview on Monday morning.  I really, really, really need to get back into the land of the employed for so many reasons, especially for benefits coverage.

Anyway, will update when I get my final grades and college diploma!!!

Finals Week...Finally!

So after months of wailing, we've come down to "finals week" (dun, dun, dunnnnn).  Let me tell you, I am giddy to be here, but not so giddy thinking about my Italian final that is looming like a big giant juicy meatball...ready to fall and crush me.

I am so trying not to panic about this, but I am.  I woke up at 2:30 a.m. yesterday morning and could not get back to sleep until 6 a.m. partly because of the iced tea I had during my classes on Thursday afternoon, but MOSTLY because I kept thinking about writing a paragraph cold as part of my Italian final.  Dio mio!

I have my final project for my writing workshop which has gone from a short story to an epic novel because of the revisions and a prequel aspect that I've added.  See...I can write my Italian-American off...as long as it's in English...puhleeze don't have me write in Italian about an unknown subject.  Aaauuuggghhhh.

I'm trying to not think of the impact on my 3.7 GPA that Italian will have.  Oh, and speaking of that, I stopped by to speak to my adviser from the accelerated degree program I had completed three years ago (but still needed 21 credits to get my diploma, and don't start with me), and she told me I could have taken Italian with a Pass/Fail option that would not have affected my GPA at all.  Sonofabitch!!!  That's right...I said that.  I was never ever told that by the advisor I went to to enroll, and why didn't this other chick tell me, huh?  She didn't think I ever contacted her, but the anal, cover-my-ass personality knew better, and I found the email I had sent both of them back in December.  Aha! 

Listen, I absolutely love this little advisor chicklet, but holy piss, that would have taken so much of the agita out of these last few months for me...hello!!!  Oh well, too late.  I still adore my Italian professor and have enjoyed her class.  And, I have really enjoyed the writing workshop class.  It is so amazing how talented the 18-22 year old students are and how much they like to drop F-bombs and write about sex and drugs and rock and roll.  I'm thinking they felt safe enough in this course to be able to just let it go and write about things that they know or think they know.  Some of them overdid it, but on the whole, I totally enjoyed the short stories, and the professor is extremely funny and very decent.

So, next we meet, I will relieved to be over exams and perhaps even have seen the hit my GPA has taken in the neck for my inability to master the mother tongue.  Ciao, Ciao!

Wedding Showers on My Parade

Ok, be honest out there...who really, really likes going to wedding showers and playing those silly games.  I thought so.  I'm not sure when I started disliking wedding showers, but it must have been sometime after the 50th one I had to attend or help organize, I'm guessing. 

The prospective bride -- usually already set up in an apartment with or without her intended -- registers at a number of stores (Bed, Bath, and Beyond and the like) for all the things she and her beloved will need as they start their adventure together as lawfully wedded wife and husband.  You know, the critical stuff, like measuring spoons and rubbery thingies to help open up stubborn jars...stuff like that.  And, even though the stores have electronic registries that are designed to avoid duplication of gifts, you know there will be five George Forman grills that came out of the same Macy's or Target...trust me.

Most of the time, there are no men at showers because it's all women and who wants to hear hundreds of "ooohs" and "aaahhhhs" about dish towels and shower hooks if you don't have to, right?  I just attended one where the intended groom sat up by the gifts and helped display them, including the lingerie -- holding up the g-string, thong-like panties -- a picture I wish I can undo in my brain. 

Anyway, maybe I'm not into them because I really never had one myself...I dunno.  I only know that I don't know how the bride and groom met, where they met, her favorite song, her eye color, and what she loves about her intended...and frankly, Scarlett, well you get the picture. 

I do wish the couple well and hope that they make it on their own without the distractions of family and the like who sometimes have a tendency to push their own agendas.  Be true, happy, make each other laugh more than cry, stand by each other and never publicly put each other down, and remember that there is no such thing as a 50-50 marriage because, depending on what's going on, you each take more than the other at times...that is what is called Life.

Birthmarked

So, with all the crap going on in this country and around the world, Obama was moved to reveal his actual birth certificate to the naysayers and the world to confirm that he was really, really, REALLY born in these United States. 

So, do you think that'll shut the traps of the crazies...no chance...that is the beauty of crazies...they exist in another dimension of their own making and do not acknowledge the existence of an alternate, more viable reality.  I mean, really. 

And then you have idiots coming out and saying why, in the face of everything going on in this country and the world, would Obama feel the need to bring this up???  Is he trying to distract the country from the real issues?  Um, it is because these same idiots are the ones who made this such an issue that it would not dry up and blow away on its own.

Geez!

I just cannot get over how people align themselves so tightly with one ideology.  Me?  I don't care who you are, if you have a great plan for the country, then gird your loins and promote it and get it done.  But it really has to be a GREAT plan for the country that is all-inclusive, and that means, men, women, children, the elderly of ALL ethnic and social groups, INCLUDING all marginalized groups out there.

Tea and Agony

My cousin and I talked for over two hours last night -- mostly about family and remembrances -- we laughed like crazy. 

Right at the beginning of the conversation, she had mentioned how busy she was because of the tea party; I chose to keep mum...didn't want to foul the conversation.  At some point, she said something about how the pope was now allowing gay marriages (she's switched out from catholic to luthern or something), and I said I hadn't heard that, but then again, I have no problem with it myself.  Dun, dun, dun....the jig was up...I had exposed myself as the liberal I am.  Dun, dun!

She took off after that about Obama and his upbringing surrounded by socialists, and sure he was not born in the U.S.  Her phone kept fading out occasionally, and I later told my husband, it sounded like the clicks were reminiscent of movies and TV shows where the phone was being tapped (dun, dun!). 

I tried not to start screaming, and was doing a good job until she uttered these fateful words, "I love Sarah Palin."   Aaaauuugggghhhhhhhh!!!!!  I said that I could not believe she actually said those words out loud.  Holy piss!  Not only that...the woman likes Glenn Beck!  It's a world gone mad.  She asked me if I had voted for Obama, and I said "yes," and then -- between clicks on her phone -- she asked me if I was glad, and I "yes" again because McCain would have had a big hole in the earth by now.  I truly did not want to spoil the night's conversation with a political discussion, so I kept trying to ease it away.  Political zealots and religious zealots are cut from the same cloth, and their focus is so narrow, it's too"Twilight Zone" for me.

I could not believe I was on the phone as long as two hours...I loathe being on the phone that long usually for chit-chat.  She finally stepped off her soap box, and we talked more about family.  She enlightened me that my sweet Uncle Mike was not necessarily so sweet when it came to discipline with her...total shock for me.  After all, I came from the land of "I'll drink your blood," and "You're going to be the first bald-headed kid in the kindergarten," and "If I catch you, I will kill you" mother.  I was stunned.

All in all, it was great talking to her, and I love her still, but who can explain vast differences in blood, right?

Do You Want Tea with the Party?

OK...my cousin turned 60 yesterday.  I remember sleeping over her house when we were kids.  My aunt and uncle (who passed away last year...days before he and my aunt were to be married 62 years) are the most adorable people in the world.  I cannot imagine how calm it was in that house with my two cousins and these wonderful people.  My Uncle Mike is my Dad's baby brother...adorable.  I don't think I've ever heard either he or my Aunt Dot swear or raise their voices...ever.

So I figured I'd send my cousin birthday cards -- one serious and mushy and the other funny.  She's a good egg, and I've always loved her.  You know, just because you're related to someone doesn't necessarily mean you even have to like them.  This cousin, I love.  She was always a girlie girl next to me having older brothers, but like I said, she's a good egg.  She's a bit high-strung, according to Aunt Dot.  She doesn't work outside of the house, but she's so tightly wound, she makes Type A people look like they are heavily drugged.

Anyway, I looked up her address, and lo and behold, I found several references to her on the Internet (she has a very unique last name now, so I knew that any and all references were her).  But, the thing that totally blew me away was that this cousin had actually organized a freaking tea party gathering in her little town.  Aaaauuuugggghhhh!!!  When I told my oldest brother -- former Marine, uber-conservative, right-wing crazy  -- he was very impressed.  I don't understand what happens when genes are spread out in a family...how could I be in this family?   Maybe all that teasing about my being adopted was the truth after all.  I would have believed it, but there's too strong of a family resemblance to deny it.

I guess there has to be an out to every in, and dark to light, etc.  Oh well...thought I'd share.

Three more weeks of school...yippee!!!

Do Neon Nails Make the Man?

So by now you've heard about the crap going around about the J Crew ad that features one of their female execs and her five-year-old son in a great Mom-to-kid pose with smiles and love.  It's very cute.  Oh, and the son has some nail polish on the toes of the foot Mom is holding...this really concerns the uber-conservative types.

As far as I'm concerned, I am not concerned.  Who gives?  Do people really (really) think that by painting a little boy's toe nails with pink polish is going to confuse him?  He is probably more confused by the outrage that is now surrounding what probably was a fun moment with his Mom.  Apparently, some of these crazy people are saying it's promoting transgendering (or whatever the term they've used). 

People are just plain old crazy.  Granted, I am not a fan of nail polish on little kids or babies with earrings just because, well, they're babies and little kids.  It has nothing to do with gender identification confusion; I just think that kids hardly have enough time to be kids before they're whipped into mini-adults.  But that's me.  What would these morons have said and how would they have reacted if the kid was truly a child who felt that he was not a boy, but a girl with boy parts?  They would have, no doubt, found something in a bible that they could interpret it as a sign of demonizing and demoralizing and de-whatevering.  That's the fun part of the bible, you can read pretty much anything into it as your crazy-ass religion wants to...they'll be sure to find some kind of reference to the adorning of manly nails...geez!

So, there you have it.  J Crew, to their credit, has chosen (so far) not to respond to the crazies.  I'm sure my very conservative brothers will have something to say, but then why not. 

You Gotta Have Friends

Okay, so how cool is it to have friends?  I have friends from childhood and from workplaces, and I cherish them all so much.

In the past few days, I have had lunch with oldest (only in the years that we've been friends, not by age, of course) friends and two of my work friends, and I feel so great.  I know I've said this before, but having friends really can be rejuvenating to your soul and psyche. 

On Saturday, my Francine and I had lunch and spent a couple of hours just talking and laughing about the now and the then.  Francine is a friend who literally makes me feel warm inside.  I just love being with her, and I'm smiling now thinking about her.  She is funny and bright and loving and I love her to bits.  We have gone through a lot together, and always seem to be able to connect no matter what is going on in our lives.

Last night, I had dinner with my Janice and Annie, and we also spent some hours just chatting and laughing and commiserating over junk going on at work (my former employer).  I hadn't seen Annie for over a year, and it was really, really great to see her.  Keeping in touch via email is good, but nothing beats a hug and face-to-face conversations.  I'm telling you, it's friggin' rejuvenating.

And that brings me to my second short story for my writing workshop class.  Originally, I was going to do something about dating, but then I just started writing about friends.  It is a work of "fiction," but it has a touch of the real thing in there from time to time.  One of the questions I ask in the piece is why are women so much better at maintaining friendships than men?  And you know what?  I don't know that answer for sure.  I have friends from birth, third grade, junior high, high school and beyond; my husband just didn't keep in touch with his friends.  Why?  Do you know?

"Go West Old People"

Have I mentioned that my husband is determined to move out of the northeast because of the winters?  Yup, he hates, hates, hates the cold, the snow, and especially the ice.  This winter really did it for him. 

Do you know where my beloved wants to go???  Las Vegas.  Yup, Las-friggin'-Vegas.  It's brown in most places in that area of the country.  Brown...as in not very much green and living stuff.  I'm not that excited about moving into an area where it's so dry my thinned-out hair goes flat, despite its natural wave.  Las Vegas is like the anti-Florida.  I don't like Florida because, well, it's Florida.  And, it has a lot of humidity, alligators, strange bugs, and it's south.  Dry heat is better, right? 

Anyway, I told him that I would venture thatta way for a look-see after I get out of school.  The only thing good about going there is that it's close to some of my relatives whom I haven't seen in a long time.  But, then it's farther away from relatives whom I really like to see.

So, I told my husband that if it ends up that we do actually find something there, I'm in for the move.  What the heck, right?  I'm sure the two cats will be thrilled to be drugged and stuffed under an airplane seat...it should be a grrrreat five hours.  I'll keep you posted.

Oh, and after this week, five more weeks of school!!!  I have an Italian test tomorrow.  My son tells me that there is such a thing as studying too much...he may be right...mamma mia.

Later...

Senioritis?

Is it a bad thing that I'm counting down the weeks to the end of this semester?  Have I become one of those students?  I told my son that I think I have senioritis, and he said, "in more ways than one."  Hardy-har-har...the guy is a scream.

It's not that I hate my classes, 'cause I truly do love them.  My writing class is so totally cool, especially since we're doing the workshop stuff of going each other's short stories.  These kids are so talented, and I love reading their work.  Our professor is a trip, and he really encourages everyone to think about their responses to others' work and about how to be a better writer for their own work.

My Italian class gives me agita because I feel so stupido (no translation needed...you totally get what I'm saying).  It's not for a lack of working my senior ass off -- I spend more time on Italian than the other class -- but maybe it's because of my senior brain that I feel inept.  Our professessora is a gem.  She has the patience of an immortal, even as she deals with people not having their books or doing their work.  I would not be so patient...not at all.  I absolutely freeze up on the quizzes and tests.  I never, ever had that problem, but I do now. 

Another thing about my Italian class that I just noticed:  I have no idea what the students on the other side of the room looks like.  If I were to see them on campus, I would not recognize any of them.  I guess it's because I interact with the kids nearest to me, but it's weird. 

Maybe my son is right.  Anyway, six more weeks after this week.  See what I mean?

Ciao!

Goodbye, Daddy

You have not heard a eulogy until you have heard one from a six-year-old, let me tell you. 

My niece's husband did pass away, unfortunately, and his service at the temple was very touching.  His two best friends spoke first, and talked about the 30+ years that they have known and worked with him.  They were followed by his sister, his oldest son, his only daughter, and one of his six-year-old twins (with his wife, my niece, speaking last).

Everyone did a great job.  With all of them, we alternated between laughing and crying, especially when his daughter mentioned how much her father loved women, as evidenced by his three marriages.  However, when the little guy got up and spoke, it was something else.  He talked about how much he loved his dad and how much he missed him, and how he'll be a doctor when he grows up too.  Of course, he also plans to be a New York Yankee, and will play during the season and then go back to being a doctor during the off-season.  He ended with saying he loved his dad and would have to go to cry.  Let me tell you that if anyone was unaffected by this, they're stone.

The folks in his temple's congregation are wonderful -- especially the women -- they organized making sure there was enough food for the family and that someone was on hand to help.  They are like the Marines and the National Guard.  The will continue to provide support however my niece and her family needs it. 

And in the morning, it is my niece who has to gather her amazing strength and go forward with her little guys into their new normal.  She has wonderful siblings who have been there to take her and the kids out of the house, provide an ear, shoulder and hugs to everyone. 

She will do all of this at her own pace, and while she appreciates the advice from everyone, she will do this at her own pace.  We will all be here for her, as we would be anyway.

Quiet Dignity in the Roar of Tragedy

For the past several days, we have been seeing images and hearing the voices of the Japanese people who endured double catastrophes of a 9.0 earthquake and the accompanying tsunami.  How can these people cope in the face of such tragedy?  How will they rebuild?

What I am struck by most is the difference between us (Americans) and the Japanese.  Whenever there is a crisis here in America, there is a segment of our society who believe it is their right to loot and whine and complain about having to wait for aid.  As hands are extended to deliver aid, there are hands grabbing it as quickly as possible, and they do not care who they step in front of or who they might step on...they must have whatever it is first.

In Japan, the images show the patience of its people.  There was a report last night of an 80-year-old man and his 77-year-old wife whose house was struck by the tsunami, but who were working on it by hand to get it in shape so that they can move on to help their neighbors.  They were not waiting to be helped, they were the ones offering help.

I have never, thankfully, been a victim of a flood or hurricane or oil spill, so I am speaking just as an observer of the human condition.  What in the Japanese culture keeps them so focused?  What in the American culture has been lost?  After all, we are children of immigrants who worked to better the lives of their children and their children's children.  When and why did we forget that?

My heart goes out to anyone whose life and livelihood has been destroyed by an event as catastrophic as the weekend's in Japan and in the flood areas of the U.S. -- whether it's man-made or provided to us by nature.  I just feel that there is a lesson to be learned that we may not be getting.

When is "Enough"

Is there any friggin' time that the universe takes a breath and declares "enough is enough" when it comes to heaping crap on?  Is there a break?

If you wonder why earth-bound people question the existence of a higher benevolent power, all you have to do is speak to someone who has shoveled more than their share of the fecal matter of life.  That old saying, "what doesn't kill you makes you stronger" is plain bull.  If it doesn't kill you the first time, then it provides you with a slow, agonizing death.  Do you build up strength, or are you actually breaking down with each swipe?  "God doesn't give you more than you can handle" is another favorite that is tossed out by the faithful...also bull.  People question because people are just plain sick and tired of picking themselves out of the treads of the tanks rolling over them through life.  You have to admit, some people get hit in the face more than others, and the question is Why?

Case in point...my niece and her siblings (and her father, my brother) lost their mother and wife just over two years ago.  It was an awful and painful few months.  We watched helplessly as a woman whose only wish was to love and take care of her family and enjoy them became sicker and sicker.  Why?  And in the end, it was this niece and one of her sisters and I who spent the last night of this wonderful woman's life together. 

Now, this terrific young woman is facing another loss for her and her young family...her husband's melanoma has returned with a vengence, and is sapping away a life they have...tumor by tumor.  This is when you have to say...WTF???!!!  After all the family had gone through, what is to be gained by taking the love of her life, the father of her six-year-old twins and their older siblings, the grandfather, the son?  How do you explain that Daddy is going to be getting more and more sick until he won't be sick anymore, but he won't be here to hang out or do homework or to get them ready for bed or for life? 

People question and rage at a god that they hope is there, but really?  War, poverty, disease, tea party crazies?  Are we more than this earth-bound existence, or will we just go into the universe as dust and atmosphere and nothing more?  When we say our prayers, is there a higher power listening and taking notes, or are we just speaking to that dust and atmosphere of those who passed on before us?  What is the point?  Why?

"And the Oscar Goes to..."

Yes...I did stay up to watch the Academy Awards...so I am that shallow. 

I did, however, mute the acceptance speeches or just clicked over to the GREEN channel where they had a mysteries of the bible thing going on about the missing sections of the Christian bible.  That was very interesting, thanks to censuring of early writings by Constantine...or was it Alexander?  Seems there were more "books" to the Christian bible than just the Mark, Luke, John, and Matthew ones.  Religion is such a trippy thing, don't you think?

Anyway, in between my sneezing and coughing (thanks to being at a birthday party filled with six-year-olds...germ factories last week), I found the awards show pretty entertaining.  I liked the pairing of Anne Hathaway and James Franco as hosts, and I think it worked.  Kirk Douglas was amazing...94 years old and still flirting with the ladies, and I liked how they took footage of Bob Hope and worked it into the show with Billy Crystal -- both great hosts.  I think the producers did a decent job of showcasing the younger-vs.-older generations.  While the most of the audience of actors and producers recognized Kirk Douglas, I suspect a lot of the viewing audience -- that 18-49 demographic -- may have been a bit perplexed by his appearance.

I'm glad for Colin Firth, Natalie Portman, and "The King's Speech" and the awards they all won.  So, thanks for the memories...

Ah, Amore in the New York Times

So, Monday was Valentine's Day.  Did you feel the love, I hope?  Did you share the love (but protecting yourself at the same time)? 

In our house, we get ridiculous amounts of cards for each other.  I'm the culprit behind the whole cards thing, and I think it was borne from me standing in a card store and laughing myself silly at all the cards, and buying all those cards.  Even the pets get involved...I know, I know.  I figure they provide a nice history of our lives; my family thinks they provide kindling for a bonfire eventually.

Speaking of love and such, I love getting the weekend New York Times because I love reading the Saturday real estate section...just curious about what is offered and for how much (mamma mia!).  I also like the styles section on Sunday which has all the wedding announcements. 

It is very interesting to see what the newly married couples do for a living -- a load of them are "associates" for this and that firm -- and what their parents do or did for a living.  You get a whole diverse group of folks...from the young 20-somethings...to the 80 and 90-year-old "newlyweds."  It's a trip to read the extended announcements of how Biff and Miffy met and all that.  It kind of gives you hope, especially when you see someone who is considered mature or even elderly, that the globe will continue to spin a bit longer.

When I was a kid, our local newspaper put in what the bride was wearing, along with what the wedding party was wearing.  It kind of gave you a keyhole view into the whole thing.  Now, no one gives except when the Times does one of those bigger stories on a particular couple.  Sometimes, you'll see them (Times) revisit a couple who had been featured in the past...kind of a catch-up on their lives.

The real estate section also provides some personal stories of people searching for the ideal rental or purchase.  It is amazing how much real estate goes for in the Big Apple...yikes.

Anyway, I do read most of the weekend issues, including the New York Times Magazine, but I always hit the real estate and styles sections first.  Don't judge me...okay?

Sting Claims Bing Copied...

OK...this must be just another example of aging, but when I saw that CNN online headline, this is how my mind interpreted it:  Sting (the Police) claims that Bing Crosby copied something from him.  It didn't make sense to me because Bing passed away in 1977, and why would he copy anything from Sting...right?

Turns out, Google apparently had a "sting" operation that ferreted out evidence that the Microsoft search engine Bing copied a lot of programming stuff to mimic the giant Google's application.  oooooohhhh...

In the meantime, people are being blown asunder all over Chicago because of this awful, terrible, PIA storm that most of the country is experiencing.  I haven't seen grass on our yard in weeks.  And, speaking of ferrets, the rodent in Pennsylvania said that Spring will be here soon.  Hellooooo...it's a large rodent...get a grip on your warmth-deprived depraved senses.

I'm going back to studying my Italian...ciao!

Visualizing Spring and Democracy

So, we are in the midst of the biggest storm to hit 30 (or so) states at the same time.  Isn't it just so wonderful living in these historical (hysterical) times? 

Here's a bit of trivia:  cats will play like crazy after they've eaten, and it doesn't matter whether they're inside cats (like our two boys) or outside in the weather (like the ones we try to capture and "fix" from time to time).  My husband and I watched two of them running madly through the snow, jumping each other and just having a blast.  Did you ever notice that snow tends to bring out the playfulness of animals?  Have you gone outside with your dog in the snow only to have him or her run madly stuffing his/her nose into the snow?  Both of our large(er) dogs did that.  The yellow lab loved to run alongside the kids when they were on the toboggan.  Unfortunately, sometimes she was RUN OVER by the toboggan...not the brightest dog, but she loved us.  When it comes to rain, however, animals are not so enthusiastic, and who can blame them, right?

Egypt, in the meantime, has erupted with demonstrations from her citizens who have united to oust their 30-year president.  I'm sorry, if you have a national leader, and he/she are living in a palace, and he/she has been there for that long...isn't it a monarchy (or dictator)?  Good for the people of Egypt.  And, how cool is the army (so far) that it has refused to fire on its people.  You gotta love the hunger for democracy.  And, Jordan has thrown out its governmental officials -- except the top dude who actually did the throwing out -- and is rebuilding its government.  Hopefully, no opportunistic crazy fringe group gets a foot hold over there, and the people truly gain a strong voice.

I have a snow day from college today, and I'm bummed.  I met with my Italian professor yesterday.  What a patient wonderful young woman she is...I almost hugged her when I left her office....it's an Italian thing.  Anyway, I just wanted to make sure that I was (more or less) in line with what her expectations are for the class, and so far so good. 

I'm sure being over 30 (or 40...mamma mia!) years older than my classmates definitely puts me at a disadvantage, but I am still very determined to succeed.  Losing my parents made me feel that I had also lost touch with my Italian heritage.  Along with missing them these past 29 years, I have longed for my Italian roots, and someday would like to visit the country.  Taking Italian will at least give me some foundation to understand and get around...capisco? 

So, here's to Spring/Primavera (tomorrow is Groundhog's Day) and to freedom for all our earthbound brethren.

Ciao!

Oh, Good...It's Snowing Again!

Are you sick of this winter yet?  Me too. 

My daughter called us this morning as she was walking to work from Brooklyn to Manhattan, and it had already started snowing...hard...down there.  She amazes me how she is so determined to keep up this habit of walking the five miles (one way) up and down streets, across the Brooklyn Bridge, and to her office.   She says it's a great workout, and a lot of folks do it every day.  Even today, there were not only walkers like her, but also runners and people on bikes...despite the heavy snow!  You gotta love New Yorkers, right?

We got our syllabus for Italian...mamma mia...we're going to have to do a few quizzes and oral presentations!  Auuuggghhh!!!  The writing professor is a maniac, and I'm guessing he tries to relate to his younger students by dropping f-bombs, and that's cool, I've been known to do a bomb run myself.  I really like this class so far.  I love hearing my younger classmates -- particularly the girls -- break down and discuss our readings.  We need these young women (oh yeh, and man-boys) in this country to scrape off the crap that has gotten tossed up by earlier generations.  Hopefully, they are much more open-minded about the life around them and are not just parrots of their upbringing...whatever it may be.

Now, Italian is giving me agita because while I seem to be able to understand our adorable Professoressa, I'm not as quick to respond in Italian.  I'm hoping my aged brain will kick in and some primal bit of it recognizes the mother language.

Anyway, it is amazing how more relaxed I am about job hunting since I started school.  My job until May is school, and I am not going to be making myself any more crazy than I am by stressing over job postings.  I will think about that around May 16...after finals.

So, be careful driving, walking, etc.  Strength to the winter weary.  The days are really getting longer, and Spring must be somewhere under all that friggin' snow, right?  Ciao, amicas e amicos!

Bad News--Snow / Good News--Oscar Nominations!

You know that feeling...when you wake up and it's very quiet outside the house, and you know why...it has snowed (yet again!).  And, that's what we woke up to this morning.  Another friggin' winter wonderland.  I know kids are probably happy to sleep in for an extra two hours, but really?  Oh, and the best part is that there's still another storm for the butt-end of the week...yippee! 

But the good news is that they're announcing the Oscar (Academy Award) nominations...so excited.  With my current schedule, I'll even be able to stay up for it!  And, for the record, I just hope The King's Speech wins over Social Network just because -- even though I have not seen either one of them yet -- I think The King's Speech is the one with the heart.  Will I even see Social Network?  Probably not.  I don't use Facebook, and so I really don't give a rat's buttocks about it.

So, off to hope that today's classes are not cancelled again.  I've been practicing my Italian...I'm better at counting than the alphabet.  Ciao!

The Monster on the Cover and in the News

What is it with publications and news media that constantly need to push crazy people into the faces of the rest of us?  What purpose does it serve by having that guy's picture who killed the six people in Tucson, and nearly destroyed the others' lives who he shot on the cover of Time or on the nightly news?  Are we interested in knowing how everyone is doing...yes...we want them to heal both physically and mentally, but by making the killer a celebrity, we just feed into his craziness and the budding craziness of others lurking in their own shadows.


Somewhere, in the recesses of the mind of someone like the individual who created chaos in a matter of seconds in Tucson, a compartment opens or closes, and heinous actions are taken.  Did his upbringing have anything to do with it, or was it something that was pre-set as the egg and that one sperm collided?  Is there any way to determine that? 

Does he, and do others like him, watch and read and listen as other tragedies occur throughout the world and feed on these events?  Is there predestined programming in these individuals that need something to key off of before they click into their own app of craziness and destruction? 

If you've ever gotten those chain-letter type of emails that include all those questions about getting to know you and have seen the one which asks, "What do you fear or are afraid of," I always look at that question and say, crazy people.  Whenever these individuals are labeled "animals," I feel insulted for the animal kingdom.  Not that I'm saying there are no crazies in the animal world, but usually, there is a survival thing going on when animals kill...not a rush.

I ask, can we stop being the publicity department for these individuals?  Stop putting their faces on publications and on the nightly news.  Bury them...figuratively and literally.  Rehabilitation is not an option, and that is something coming from my (mostly) liberal stance.

Getting Mom Out of My Head (Or How to NOT Learn "Proper" Italian)

OK...so I started my last two classes towards my Bachelors (wahoo!) today.  We should have started on Tuesday, but the Northeast was hit by still another snow storm (and there's one for tonight into tomorrow...yippee...not).

Anyway, as I expected, I am not only older than my classmates, but I am older than my professors.  Golly, it just gives me such a warm-all-over good feeling...ahem!  So the writing class should be very interesting because we're not only reading fiction (short stories), but we will be writing our own.  The professor took roll call and ask us to provide him with nicknames, if possible.  So, of course, I told him that he could address me as "Xena" (as in "Warrior Princess").  He thought that was great, so the old broad by the window will now be Xena, and the kid next to her is "Killer."  Most of the kids didn't have nicknames or were too shy to reveal them...ah youth!

The class right after that is Italian 101...that's beginning Italian...although you would have never known that by the professor who spoke fluent Italian as she was telling us what we were going to be doing for the class.  She was born in Florence, Italy.  Oh my god, oh my god...  The funny thing is that there were things we could pick up.  Some of us had taken Spanish or have Spanish or Italian in our families.  Of course, I took Spanish the year Columbus (an Italian) sailed his boats for Queen Isabella (Spanish queen).  Coupled with my mother's voice in fractured remnants of the Italian dialect that she and my father spoke, my Spanish 101 is giving me agita!  This is going to be a very tough 16 weeks.  But, I am determined to learn my ancestor's native tongue. 

So, I will provide updates via whining additions...stay tuned...Ciao!

And the Golden Globe Goes To...

OK...after a day of football games to determine who is going for divisional championships and ultimately the Super Bowl (J-E-T-S!!!), I spent the most of the evening driving my husband crazy toggling between the Golden Globes and movies and/or House Hunters.  I say "most" because he could not keep up and left to watch "Top Gear" which I totally forgot was on 'cause I like that show a lot.  With not having to get up early for work, I get to stay up on a school night to watch shows like the Golden Globes (although this year's fell on the MLK weekend, so I wouldn't have had to get up early anyway...what a waste, right?).

Anyway, I have not seen any of the movies except for Toy Story 3, and I need to say, I did not tear up as everyone else has said they did during it...at all.  So, I totally watch award shows for the fashions and to see who wins for movies and/or shows that I've never watched.  Yes, I am that shallow when it comes to this type of entertainment...so sue me.  We have one of the HDTVs, and let me tell you that you get up close and personal with a lot of people's pores...not always a good thing to do.  I never ever want that much scrutiny...no wonder the news anchors panicked when everything was going to high definition...yikes!

I was glad to see Natalie Portman and Colin Firth win their awards; not so taken with Paul Giametti...have not been "into" him since Sideways anyway.  I wonder what the Hollywood Foreign Press uses as their criteria to choose the winners...apparently not what I use since I don't usually see any of the movies prior to the awards ceremony, and they do not even consult with me...bastards.  Oh, and they have to lose Ricky Gervais as the host...totally mean-spirited and not funny. 

When you see some of the outfits these high-paid people wear, you just have to wonder..."Do you even look at yourself in the mirror?"  Or, what about their stylists...is there some passive-aggressive stuff going on?  But in the end, it's fluff and stuff stuff, and I'm totally over it this morning. 

On to the Oscars.

The Magic of Possibilities vs. the Harshness of Reality

You know that feeling you get when you are embarking on a new adventure in your life...that surge of optimism that this will be a positive experience and peace will prevail on earth, right?  Then, sometimes, you get a full-face of the "are-you-kidding-me...you?" reality check.  Been there, done that myself.

I try not to get too hopeful when I send out my cover letters, resumes, and references to the various potential employers, but I do get a rush of hope when I've put the envelope in the mail or send the electronic application out...maybe THIS one will be the magical one.  And, whenever I've been called in for an interview, that little ember of hope begins to flicker a bit brighter until reality lifts its leg over it and extinguishes it completely.

I am so looking forward to beginning school next week, and know this will keep me occupied for the next 15 weeks.  I am hopeful that I'll be able to let go of the draginess that being out of work all this time and embrace this new reinvention and all its possibilities completely.

I guess it's like the sports teams whenever they begin a new season.  Who's to say that the Chicago Cubs can't pull out a division win and go on to win the World Series, right?  They are contenders and are close to the win...right up until they're not.

I am full of the magic of possibility and will shade myself from the harsh, stabbing light of reality...at least for 15 weeks.

"Julie & Julia's" Sex Symbol

Have you seen the movie, Julie & Julia?  I love this movie primarily because of Meryl Streep and Stanley Tucci as Julia and Paul Child.  They are absolutely adorable.  With movie magic, Ms. Streep appears to be significantly taller than Mr. Tucci, while portraying the love that was Julia and Paul Child's (this was the magic of Streep and Tucci).

I have told my husband of over 30 years that if I were not married to him, I'd want to be married to Stanley Tucci, and he (my husband...Stanley is unaware of this) has been extremely understanding and nodded when I spoke it to him the very first time.  It's true.  I am pretty convinced that Stanley Tucci is a very good and decent man, and I'm hoping I am right about it...I truly feel I am.

I know that Mr. Tucci and his young children had an awful loss when his wife passed away from cancer a couple of years ago, and from what you read about him and his reaction to that loss and his love for his wife and children, you just get a sense of a really decent guy.

So, there you have it.  A full confession.  I am absolutely in love with my husband.  But, I am also smitten with Stanley Tucci from afar. 

Terminal Reinvention

Of course, I've talked before about one of the newer catch words -- reinvention -- and its relation to my life (or no relation to my life). 

Don't you just get all sick to your stomach at these Oprah words?  Me too.  No offense to Oprah by any stretch...the woman nails the pulse of what is goosing (mostly) women...but really?  And, what am I doing as I enter my friggin' second year of unemployment???  Well, glad you asked.  I am going back to school next week and finally finishing my B.S. degree...yippee!!!  Yup, I'm taking Italian 101 and a fiction writing course up at the campus and I am totally psyched. 

So by May of this year, I will have in my aging hand, a genuine college degree...first one in my family to have a four-year degree.  What it will mean to me and my employment life is a mystery, but for the next 15 weeks, I will be a legitimate college senior...yahoo!  I will have "reinvented" my "authentic" self (blech!) once again, but this time, I'm controlling it and not having it done around or to me.

Maybe reinvention is really Life which is in constant flux for all of us all the time.

It'll be interesting to learn what my mother used to call "proper" Italian instead of the Bari dialect that contained a lot of naughty-type words.  Ciao!

A New Year -- A New Set of Issues

So, how is 2011 working for you so far?  Yeh, same here. 

Today's breaking news is that a 22-year-old boy/man decided somewhere in the recesses of his mind that it was a good thing for him to open fire -- with a 9mm assault weapon -- on an Arizona congress woman who was meeting with constituents in her district at a very public place (the front of a Safeway in Tucson, AZ).  As a result of his decision, six people are dead -- including a federal judge and a nine-year-old little girl.  A nine-year-old child!!!  The congress woman was critically wounded from a gunshot to her head and has undergone surgery where she is fighting for her life, as are others who were wounded and have undergone treatment/surgery.  Can you tell me what the hell could provoke someone to bring a gun of that caliber (or any gun, really), and decide to open fire on people...a nine-year-old child!  The right to bear arms is one of our inalienable rights, right?  But, who the frig needs an assault weapon, and how the hell did he get his hands on it and close enough to kill so many people?

In the meantime, my youngest niece who is married to a man 25 years her senior, is trying to keep her family and her sanity together as they deal with the devastating news that her husband's melonoma has returned in the form of tumors in his lungs.  This is one of the nieces who lost her mom just a bit over two years ago.  She has (almost) six-year-old twins, and her husband is home after surgery and in pain.  She needs to find someone to hang out with him because he is on very strong pain medication, and she wants to ensure that he doesn't over medicate himself (he's a doctor...worse patients ever).  Fortunately, she has his older son who could come in to babysit his father while she went shopping today, and her sister who took the twins to hang out with their cousin to play.  A bit of good news is that her husband had a BM (that's right, I said BM) today -- the first since the surgery -- and I know this because he told me on the phone when I called to check in with them.  Talk about too much information...ewww.

Oh, and it does get better for this family because my oldest niece (the sister of the other niece) was rushed to the hospital with chest pains and fear that she was have a coronary incident.  Fortunately, the tests did not indicate any heart-related problems, but her habit of not drinking or eating over the course of a day may have been the problem; she's on her way home from the hospital.

Has the earth shifted in its orbit, or maybe sun spots? 

Good News...Unemployment is Down...for Some

The news today included the "good" news about unemployment...it's the lowest it's been in a year and a half.  That's great news, right?  It is if you are one of the people who are now employed, that is...

As for me, I'm still looking for a job.  Being enrolled in school will take a lot of my time with going to classes and the work involved with them, and I'm grateful as heck for that, but puhleeze, I need a job before I'm old enough to collect social security. (Ok...so I'm not that close to social security age, so shut up).

As I said, I went through the two moving boxes I brought home with me from my former employer and dumped all the company-specific material and my notes.  With the reorganization that the company went through, it's pretty much junk anyway.  As I glanced at notes and other stuff, it reminded me of the jobs I had held and the people I worked with over the years.  I have some great memories, and not-so-great ones just as anyone does about their jobs.  Still...

Out With the Old...And I Ain't Talking About Me, But Thanks Anyway...

Well...I've actually done it...I've gone into the two moving boxes and tossed out all the notebooks and manuals that I collected over the years from my former company.  I had collected a lot of information that was once useful, but is now junk.  Kind of like me...ha...I just crack myself up!  But seriously...

In the meantime, it's friggin' snowing again. 

Breaking in the New Year

So, it's 2 a.m., and here I am typing this.  Why???  Because someone decided to break in the New Year... literally....trying to break into our son's car!  It's 32 degrees out...how desperate or stupid does someone have to be?

The car's alarm woke us up, along with the key chain fob that has a loud, melodic chime when the car is violated.  We saw no one, but the driver's side door was open and the driveway motion sensor light was on.  My husband went outside to check on any damage.  Apparently, no one tried either of our Subarus...not as cute as my son's '97 BMW.

My question is...what the frig is wrong with you that you try to break into people's cars in the middle of the winter...hello!  So much for the cozy, safe-in-your house feeling, eh?