Boo...Hoo

It's Halloween, and I started the day off with a fright. I had been having bad dreams all night and then my kids, in a fit of excitement, came flying into my room - literally airborne - to land right on my stomach screeching "It's Halloween! OooooooooooOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOooooooo! Wake up Mommy!!!"

Right. Mommy needs to go throw up now. If I die and they do an autopsy, this is to make official note that I wasn't beaten to death by thugs. Those are "Halloween love bruises".

I got up (gingerly) and got going. Stepped on the scale, bad idea. Then I went downstairs and discovered my cat has decided to reject the idea of a litter box as trappings of "the man" (I subsequently chased him around yelling at him for about five minutes.) And then I remembered...

I have to go to court today.

IEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!

No, not because they finally caught me. (They'll never take me alive!) My business law professor thinks we need to sit and watch FOUR HOURS of court proceedings and write a paper on it. She thinks that it will help us see the benefits of business law in action (my argument that sitting in the offices of Merrill Lynch and watching the CEO's rip off the company would be much more informative didn't go over well.) See, now, THAT is scary. Four hours of court. Doesn't that fall under cruel and unusual punishment?

As per my tradition, I will be posting a full trick-or-treat photo spread tomorrow from the Halloween festivities tonight.

Happy Halloween!

Thinking About Holiday Gatherings

I just really want to play with one of these:


I don't believe they do much, but wouldn't it be fun to stick it in your living room and try and hold a conversation with guests over the holidays while using it, acting like nothing is different?

Of course, I might choose a more supportive and modest outfit than she has on. You know, because it'll be the holidays and all. Something festive... maybe with blinking lights.

Political Schmolitical

Why? Why, oh why, oh WHY are people so into playing politics? Someone explain it to me? Wait... someone explain it to me in a way that doesn't increase my disgust with the human race.

Why is it that whenever there is an opportunity to play politics, 9 out of 10 people will jump at the chance? It's not that there is anything major to gain, but the temptation to seriously screw with another human being is just too much to resist. Why is having power over someone else, no matter how small, so important to so many people?

I know the old song and dance, that politics are in everything, it's unavoidable. I get that. I just don't agree with it. Worse, I become seriously irritated when someone is newly in a position to mess with someone else and literally goes looking for excuses to do so - not because they harbor any ill will towards the person, but simply because they can.

Does having the power to mess with someone else's life bring you joy? For me, I am that one in ten person who won't jump to play political jack-ass with someone else's life. If I have power over someone's life in any way, I see it as a responsibility. The higher the responsibility the higher the stress to get it right. If I messed with someone's life and it made their life harder I would not rejoice in my evil power potential, instead I would feel duty bound to try and find a way to improve the situation if I could.

Someone called me a "bleeding heart" because of my view. I think that person is probably in with the political-jerk-squad. He probably even has a laminated card identifying him as a member and knows the secret handshake. I'm a bleeding heart because I don't care to screw up someone's life, even if it's just for the day. Fine. I don't like the title, and I'll think up a better one, but FINE.

Being that I won't take the opportunity to screw with someone's life based on, oh I don't know... a basic sense of decency, I am further frustrated by those who take every opportunity to screw with my life. I'm facing three different masters of jerkdome right now trying to mess with my life on three different fronts. None of it is personal. None of it gains them anything but the knowledge that they could mess with the situation and how powerful that makes them feel, though it costs ME dearly (seriously, I have worked through this with them even and asked what the opposite outcomes would yield anyone - the answer is a shifty "nothing... but...")

Ok, I'm all over the map with this post and a lack of details. But my situation is just driving me crazy. If someone has a situation arranged that is fully acceptable, within the rules, no bending of anything, and you suddenly gained the power to mess with it even though it would avail you (or anyone else) nothing, would you? Apparently that answer is a resounding yes for most. That makes me both incredibly angry and incredibly sad.

Sometimes There is Still a Chasm

Tonight we watched the movie Gracie with my daughter. (99% of it was fine for a 9 1/2 year old, the other 1% I threw a blanket over her head.) The movie is based on some events in Elizabeth Shue's actual life growing up. And, true to form in this house, it was all about soccer.

If you haven't caught on yet, my house is overrun by soccer on a regular basis. Mr. Savy is obsessed with it, and my daughter isn't far behind. We coach, we coordinate entire programs and leagues, Mr. Savy and my daughter play, and every game on television is TiVo'd (until I threatened Mr. Savy with loss of soccer-important limbs if he didn't start clearing them out for my shows to record too.) Soccer soccer soccersoccersocccersoccer....SOCCER.

Alright, already!

But as I sat watching this movie I felt myself sort of twist inside. Sure, it was about soccer, but it was really about being able to play even if you are a girl - direct references to Title 9 were involved. Since it was set in nearly the same era I grew up in, the movie struck some serious chords with me. I watched as the dad coached the boys and ignored the girl. I watched as the boys repeatedly told the girl she was stupid simply because she actually was a girl. I started feeling slightly ill.

We stopped the movie twice. The first time was when my daughter asked why all this was happening. Why was the character not allowed to play? Mr. Savy answered that the character needed to "toughen up". I started to say something... I stopped. The movie went on... and then I stopped it.

Mr. Savy and my daughter didn't understand why I stopped the movie. They were doubly confused that I was upset. I explained that it was important that my daughter NOT miss the point here, and it wasn't just that the girl "needed to toughen up", as a matter of fact that was the smallest point in bunch. I was seriously offended that Mr. Savy thought it was not important to explain the issue to my daughter that they wouldn't let the girl play BECAUSE SHE WAS A GIRL.

I grew up a few years later than the movie was set, about 10 I think. But you know what? Not a whole hell of a lot had changed. I imagine it was mostly due to the fact that it takes a long time to change the attitudes of a culture against something they have held onto for so long. Regardless, as a girl there were no sports open to me but cheerleading and jump-rope. There were not opportunities to join a soccer team for me at my daughter's age. And up until now I hadn't really thought about it, but my dad used to every now and then kick the ball around with my brother and I was not allowed to participate. I was told that this was because it was "father and son time", but you have to wonder. Did the ball ever get kicked around with me by anyone? No. What about another sport? No. But I had my damn jump-rope.

I was an athletic kid. I climbed trees, skated the edges of mortality down dead-man's curve, and physically challenged myself wherever I could. But it was always by myself. I would have welcomed a sport. But sports wouldn't have welcomed me. By the time I got to high school there actually were some girl's programs, but they required that you already had experience to try out (as in were on a team in Jr. High, apparently some of the other schools actually did have girl's programs - just not mine.) So, I ended up trying out for cheerleading. And bombed it. It only took one second in front of those judges to realize I would rather run with a ball than cheer for it. That's just my flavor. I asked about basketball, but since I had no experience I was told what I could try out for was the record-keeper for the coach. Yeah, no thanks.

I never played a sport. Ever. Maybe I would have sucked at them. Maybe, but I'll never know. The only thing I'll ever know is that I would have liked to try.

So, I find it pretty damn important to communicate to my daughter that she can do anything that she wants. And if there is a movie about a struggle to do something because you are a girl, that it's important NOT to ignore that element of the storyline. Yes, my daughter doesn't face the challenge in sports based on her gender (yet). The world is open and welcoming. Her biggest challenge is choosing between indoor soccer, basketball, or the swim-team this week (she chose basketball.) But that she doesn't have to miss out because she is a girl doesn't mean that she shouldn't know about how it used to be.

More than that, there are many who still do feel that women are somehow less. Less intelligent, less capable, less whatever. Just less. My daughter WILL come face to face with that ugly reality at some point. I want her to be aware of it. I want her to watch a movie where someone overcame it when it's before her without any deliberate action, and to understand why it was such a big deal back then, but that it could be beaten. I want her to see it so that she will know that when the day comes and she is looking at some ignorant fool telling her that because she is a woman she isn't good enough, that it's simply one more hurdle that needs to be run over and not walked away from.

Maybe it's unfair of me to be so frustrated with Mr. Savy about this. To him, he never faced it. To him, his daughter doesn't have to face it now. So why bother? But I think it's worth the bother. And I am surprised that in this there was such a chasm between what we felt should be explained.

Would You Do This?

Would you try this?



Part of me really, REALLY wants to try it.

Part of me thinks the other part of me has a death wish and should clearly be declared mentally unstable.

Icy Bits

I just came back inside from my run. Two days ago, it was 80 degrees. They're talking about snow this weekend now, and I believe them. There are parts of my body that I can't quite feel because they're numb and cold from my run. I am trying to decide which I hate more: running in hot weather or cold? It sort of stinks no matter how you look at it. Hot, you get to be melted and sick. Cold, you get to lose feeling except for the burning gasps of breath you take (it's not that cold yet, but it will be.)

Of course, I could just be grumpy because my time was completely embarrassing. Even the squirrels were laughing at me. I saw them. Judgmental little rats.

No word over night from the relatives in San Diego, so I'm thinking all must still be well or my mother would be on the phone freaking out right now. Everyone in San Diego out there, keep safe, ok? I have this weird sense of distance from the whole situation, probably because I am so far away from it. Except, you would think with all my relatives directly impacted and literally in evacuation zones and such that I would feel more connected to it.

I blame those squirrels.

On Fire

I'm on the East Coast, far removed from the fires in California. But it just so happens that almost all my relatives on my side of the family except my parents and my brother LIVE in San Diego. I have uncles holding onto their houses until they're legally threatened to leave, a 94 year old great grandmother watching the evacuation area approach her house and wondering what to do, another relative stuck on a mountain with no exit (they're aware of her situation, if the fire turns they'll "extract her") and a slew of other relatives freaking out.

All I can do is sit here on the phone and try to contact/help out from here. I'm not much help.

These Dreams

Have you ever had such a bad night with nightmares that the next night you are reluctant to fall asleep? That was me last night. On Saturday night I dreamt that every bad thing that could in any form happen, did. My dreams included family members dying, fires, mayhem, cheating husbands, and so on. By the time I woke up, I just wanted OUT of my bed permanently.

When I have horrible nightmares involving supernatural elements that would make an award winning horror film writer's creativity look juvenile, I have no problems getting to sleep the following night. Sure, I might have problems immediately following the dream and have to get up and pace around a bit, but by the next evening I'm doing just fine. Not so with the "close to real life" nightmares.

I laid awake, staring at the ceiling... fidgeting. I didn't want to go back to sleep. It didn't go so well the last time, and I wasn't sure I wanted to go back.

When I think of dreams and reality, I am always reminded of the story of the woman who was in a dream-state type of coma. I think it was drug induced or something because she was dying of cancer. Anyway, in that state she had a whole other life. She was this healthy woman, married to a different person with a house full of kids and everything was wonderful. Then, one day, she was woken up by hospital personnel and a well meaning daughter who wanted to spend some time with her. Her dream-world was such a wonderful reality, and to find out that instead reality was being in horrible constant pain and dying was horrifying. She begged them to let her "go back", she had a family there, a husband and children she loved. She was healthy there, without pain. She didn't want this life anymore, and she begged them to put her back into the coma. They eventually did as she asked, and she ended up dying in that coma living her "other life".

It's an interesting concept if you think about it. The thing is, how could you be sure that you got her stuck in a good dream? What if she got stuck in nightmare-world? Could you imagine all those horror films being your actual reality? Just gives me chills thinking about it.

This did not help me get to sleep last night. I really am my own worst enemy.

Eventually, I ended up passing out and the dreams were fine. But the alarm went of at 5 AM sharp and I had a heck of a time getting up. Suddenly the idea of going back to my current dream world was a lot more appealing.

If you could design a dream world where you would live out the rest of your days, what would it be? The lady in the story simply had a normal, healthy life going for her. I think if you are dealing in dreams that's a bit mundane. I'm thinking I'd be an insanely smart superhero of some sort with a really cool sword, magic ability, and look smashing in red leather, not to mention a magical metabolism which required me to fuel my powers off of ice cream and pizza without any detrimental effects. I would, of course, need a mansion with a staff somewhat resembling Lara Croft's set up. And lastly, there would probably need to be a revolving cast including hunks like Hugh Jackman, Matthew McConaughey, and several others.

See now, if you could offer people the ability to go into the coma of their choice, I wonder how many people would opt to do it even though they're healthy now?

Hooked On Cell-Phonics

My daughter has been oh so subtly mentioning how much she would like a cell phone. Once. Or twice. Or ten times a day for the past two years now.

My daughter is NINE.

I only just bought a cellphone, thus buying into the industry of evil, when I went back to college and knew I was going to be an hour away from home. The threat of something dire happening to the children while they were at school, or a flat tire... or more likely me being an idiot and locking my keys inside my car, was just too much to dismiss. So, I gave in. I bought a cell phone. The cheapest, probably most out of date cell phone I could find (for all you iPhone freaks; don't even go there - Apple won't even put them out in Vermont because of the phone carrier situation.) It cost me next to nothing. It does nothing but ring and communicate like a PHONE was originally intended to. It has no monthly fee. It only costs 8 cents a minute, only if I use it. I don't give the number out to anyone, and the only people who have it are my husband, my mother and the children's school.

It doesn't play video, or cook turkeys on Thanksgiving, or stand in for my best friend. It's a glorified paperweight. I hate it that I even have it, but I have it. And my daughter wants one.

I suppose a kid pretty much wants anything they see. That's nothing new. When I was nine I think I may have wanted a few silly things... like a television with my very own rabbit ears (but I was mostly about roller-skates and catching frogs.) The thing is, even out here, where cell service is SO bad that people literally DIE every year because they get into trouble and then find out that whoops! no cell-service, and bleed to death or something... there are many kids who do have cell phones.

Elementary school kids have cell phones. Kindergartners have cell phones! WHY? Is their social calendar so pressing that they cannot even wait until they get home to ask to use the house phone with mom standing over their shoulder? What's wrong with that? At least most home phones are cordless! When I had to wait to go home to use the phone I used to get tangled up in the 20,000-foot-long cord so badly I had to scream for help. These kids have it easy! And they need cell phones?

I know it's the standard line; "But Suzie has a *fill in the blank with something ludicrous that children shouldn't have but lots of other parents give in and buy them for reasons beyond my own comprehension*!!! Why can't I have one?" But to me, I kept focusing on the fact that it was a cell phone. I even had to ask Mr. Savy whether or not he had seen those girls actually with one. Sadly, he had.

I suppose if we lived in a busy city with the kids dashing from one thing to another without a parent, it might make sense that a six-year-old had a phone. But we're talking Stepfordville here, people! Where ivory-faced robots wearing pantyhose, polyester-blend, pearls and perfume roam in force properly herding the children from one sanctioned act of growth entirely lacking in frivolity after another!

Who are these kids calling? Not each other, that's for sure! Maybe it's a plot, and they're all just mini-CIA agents or something. Or it's like the Borg-pod-people, and they've been assimilated. The cell-phone is actually a direct line to the collective, isn't it? I should lock all the windows and doors, shouldn't I?

She's not getting a darn cell-phone. Borg-pods or not, they'll not make me one of them!

Feeling Sick?

(Warning, I'm feeling a bit rant-ish)

It's that time of year again, when your company sends out the annual enrollment information for the health plans. I HATE this stuff, it's almost as bad as taxes. Every year it has gotten worse.

"We're going to switch to this other company who will charge you 250% more, but hey it'll save the big CEO's a bit more to put in their golden-parachute fund."

"Oh, and the copay? Yeah we're thinking it should equal what you would pay without insurance... just to be fair!"

"Prescription drugs? Well, we think you should crawl across the border and beg someone else for affordable medications. I mean, why have foreign countries if you can't risk your life on under the counter pharmaceuticals, am I right?"

Ok, those were my rather exaggerated opinions, but those are not far from the truth. Here is one that IS the truth: "Last year you payed only 20% of the cost of medications, this year that's reversed - you will be paying 80%. No matter what the circumstances." Or how about this beauty: "The more you make in income, the more you will pay on your health insurance to offset the costs of those making less in the company."

Now, my mother thinks that is a great idea. I do not. I do not feel that it is the employee's responsibility to pay for the health insurance of others employed at the same GIANT company. I believe that there is a problem out there, don't get me wrong - less and less people are insured and that's a very bad thing. But to make it even more expensive for someone who finally makes enough to afford insurance in the first place isn't fair either. It, in effect, reduces the benefits of someone making more from the company as a whole in comparison to the other employees making less.

In short, it just ticks me off that the company is shoving the burden of health care off on its employees instead of taking it on themselves. True, the insanely rising health care costs are the true problem. And the US seriously needs to look into it before most of the population is uninsured or broke because of it.

I suppose there is no good solution until someone slaps the insurance and health industries (and all the driving factors, like the litigious lunatics for example) around and gets the situation back under control... but I maintain that it is unfair to expect one employee to shoulder the burden of another. I blame the companies fully for cutting corners and not giving a flying fig about their employees.

It is as bad as taxes. All I want to do is beat the crap out of someone right now, just like tax season. Tax season is so bad that when we're doing ours, Mr. Savy and I have to be separated from one another. We rarely fight, but that is one thing where we practically come to blows. Ok not really, but it'd be a damn serious arm wrestling match.

Wednesday Putterings

I posted my first "art" post on Color Me Kyra WITH a video. Ha! How about that! My silly voice (I had to ask Mr. Savy if I actually sound like that, he says it's close. Weird.) But, since this video thing worked, I might post more videos on my blogs. Maybe what I ought to do is go hiking in the Autumn colors and tape (digital? DVD? do we still call it taping?) some of that and post it. Hmmm maybe that's a weekend project for me?

It's just about mid-semester, and I can't quite get my head in the game - still. Maybe I'm just being resistant to time flying this fast right now? I cannot believe it's mid-October. Halloween parties are lining up for the kids. My son is starting to count down to his birthday around Thanksgiving. I'm even in training for a 5k Turkey Trot on November 18th, which will be the first race I have run since I injured myself via the marathon.

This morning my Rio sport MP3 player kept turning off for no reason. Not the batteries. Not anything else I can identify. I think that it's dying a horrible death. I suppose it's a good product considering I had it all through my training and my marathon, all the way until now. That's almost four years! The thing is huge compared with little compact players that are out now. It also only holds 512mb. In other words, it's ancient. I just have a fondness for it since I was my partner for the marathon.

But the truth is that it's ugly and huge, and when you're busty anyway, having a big MP3 player smacking your chest (I attach them to my sports bra) isn't fun. I want an iPod shuffle, but they're kinda pricey. All the cheap little MP3's are great and I'd be fine with one of those, if they were durable and could play the mp4's/iTunes music. I have a video-type ipod (30G) but I can't run with that.

Does anyone know of any small/sports (as in if I drop it, it will survive) MP3 players that can play music from iTunes? Point me in the right direction!

Lastly, I don't listen to country music... but I saw this when I was flipping channels. Have you all seen this? I thought it was hilarious:

Artist Site

More Videos

All About Life

This morning I was in class minding my own business when I overheard the conversation going on in front of me and choked.

"Naw naw, man it's 25! It's all over when you are 25!" (boy)

"No, it's 21. After 21 you just... just... AGE!" (girl)

"No, you're ok until 25 because that's when you can legally rent a car. After that there is nothing in life to look forward to. It's all over." (boy)

*cough* *laugh* *cough* *choke* (me)

"What?" (boy)

"Huh? Oh nothing..." (me)

"... how old are you?" (boy)

"I'm 32." (and not dead, thank you very much.) And the discussion went on talking about how you just age and there is nothing good in life either after 21 or 25, depending on which side of the debate you were on.

Funny, I didn't think I was rollerskating down-hill and aging at the speed of light. But apparently I had better get my calls in to reserve at the nursing home! At least I can rent a car to get there. Apparently I should be sporting a toe-tag rather than a nose ring. Well, now I know. Going back to college has truly been informative.

Maybe I am getting a little senile or something though. I got back in my car after class, and my skirt got caught on the power seat controls. So, I started messing with them. I don't know who last adjusted my seat (probably Mr. Savy) but I cannot tell you how wonderful it was to shift the seat to where it should have been. Seriously, I must have been driving with them all wrong for MONTHS! I just didn't notice, and instead slouched and bunched up my legs. What fool does that? Gah!

Now, in a totally UNrelated and serious topic change, my mother is off and flying home to Arizona. I learned something while she was here; I have three types of eating issues.

1) My Own Issues
2) My Reactive Issues
3) Mom's Issues

My own issues are self explanatory. We all have them. But it's the other two that are worth smacking around a little.

My reactive issues center around my parents. Either them visiting or the other way around. I react to their presence and their behaviors in ways I was conditioned to while growing up. For example, I used to have to hide food. Why? Because otherwise everyone else would eat it. On the day after Halloween my mother would sneak into my room while I was at school and eat all the good candy. My brother would eat all the food, even the stuff I bought with my own paychecks, and I got told off for it - not him. Etc. So, I learned to hide things.

I hid things from Mr. Savy when we were first married until he said "Kyra, I would give you anything you wanted. Why are you hiding stuff from me?" I did a mental slap, and have worked VERY hard to never hide food again. I broke that habit, and yay me! But when my mom is around, that desire to hide things gets triggered. Mr. Savy, who has never hid anything, even feels it. So, I know it's not just me. There are others, but this is what I mean by a reactive issue. I did better this time, but not 100% in avoiding this one. I get a better handle on it every time though.

The last one is my mother's issues. This one I did GOOD with. I realized what they were before she got here. I knew what was coming, and I was able to separate her issues from my own, and not join in with the issues out of confusion between my own and hers. This is a big deal. More so because I was able to see which ones were never mine to begin with and literally let them go. I know, that sounds all mumbo-psychology-junkish, but it's true.

Mom is gone now, and I'm still trying to pull it together, but I'm doing it. The good thing is that I am making progress at figuring things out and setting things up so they don't bite me in the butt later. This is important, because my mother is going to be staying with us about four times a year for a couple weeks at a time. I love her very much, her being here isn't the problem. The way I react to the situation IS.

Color Me Back In Business

Once upon a not so long ago time I opened another blog, Color Me Kyra. I closed it down thinking it was silly that I fractured my blog. Putting thoughts in one place verses the other wasn't the best choice. So I consolidated back to this blog, but kept the other domain in my back pocket.

Well, I'm pulling it out of my pocket. I'm not reinstating it as "my dark side" or anything like it sort of was before. What I am doing is using it as my art blog. My goal is to force myself out of the habit of cutting myself short. Art is who I am, and when I cut it out to make room for everything else (even if it's just procrastination,) I feel diminished.

So, my goal will be to be creative at least every other day, preferably everyday, AND to post photographic proof of what I am up to. I want to finish the backed up paintings. I have a list of others I have to do. I want to do them. I need to.

So, Color Me Kyra is officially back on the books.

Ode To A Chicken

I'm sure you were cute in that box as a baby chick,
but there were so many, that I knew I could never pick.

So I took them all home, and you rode along,
to make your new home finding bugs in my lawn.

Eventually you grew and shed your soft yellow fluff,
and in grew a coat of amber feathers, not quite the color of buff.

You clucked, you scratched, and you wrought havoc upon my house,
but you also got into my garage and caught that darn mouse.

The dogs didn't bother you, in fact you treated them with disdain,
but the cat, you were quite sure, was actually the king of Spain.

You followed my children around in their play,
you got under their feet on swings nearly every day.

In the evenings you would quietly make your way to the coop,
because in the dark everyone knows that a chicken is just a nincompoop.

Birds, for all their cunning, cannot see when it is dark,
which is why for predators they're such an easy mark.

You watched as your kin fell one by one,
to coyotes, skunks, foxes, and raccoons (that darn son of a gun.)

You know we tried to protect you, because we gave you our word.
You even got to watch Mr. Savy fight a raccoon with a sword.

Still, time passed and in the end it was just you.
You were the bravest, the proudest, and the fluffiest too.

But you had a mean streak that had to be sated again and again,
Which is why just last week you had me chase you down in the rain.

So this morning when I found that swath of feathers in the outline of your demise,
I knew that deep down you were happy to give me that one last surprise.

Death By Reese's

You might recall my brief encounter with a Reese's Ice Cream Cake in the middle of the frozen food aisle. You might recall that I did not buy one, in fact I found the price tag just prohibitive enough that I couldn't give in. You might also recall that Mr. Savy tried to procure one for our anniversary last month and failed because someone else decided that the $18 price tag was more than justified. Lastly, you might recall that I couldn't find a picture of it anywhere online.

I'm here to report to you all that this is no longer the case. Any of it. Mr. Savy surprised me tonight with none other than a Reese's Ice cream cake. I took pictures, cause I'm freaky like that.

Behold, the myocardial infarction cross-bred with a stroke known as the Reese's Ice Cream Cake!

Notice how the package gleams!

It's important to remember to appreciate the outside, the attention to detail, instead of just trying to get into an ice cream cake's box. It's all about the respect. See how Reese'sesque the package is, you practically gain weight just by looking at it.

What? Open the box? Calm down, will you? It's not all about what's inside of the box, you know...


Oh, alright, it is about what's in the box.


So, I think my serving should be about...

Are they kidding me? 1/15th of the cake? What am I, a gerbil?

Oh, you want to see what's on the inside? Typical. Oh alright, no need to yell. Here you go:


I admit, I'm nervous about eating it. I liken it to how Dave might feel if he ever had the opportunity to actually kiss his celebrity crush, Elizabeth Hurley. Would it really live up to the dream? What if the anticipation is better than the reality? Would I still respect myself in the morning...

Oh hell yes!

There are some foods on this earth that are better than sex. I'm proud to introduce you to one of them. I'm going to go lay in a chocolate-peanut-butter-coma on my floor now.

Night!



Small note: Yes, I'm still a fitness freak - but I'm not dead people! 1/15 of the cake is about 240 calories, and VERY filling. And I budgeted for it. I haven't eaten the whole thing. I may have snuggled with it more than was decent, but I had the camera off for that.

Depreciate Me!

It's very dark today. The clouds are that deep gray that usually means they're about to dump three feet of rain or snow, but they're holding off for now... and I know why. I'm coaching a game tonight, and the clouds are waiting for me. I'm making sure I'm not wearing white for the game. Just call me Mrs. Prepared.

The deep dark clouds also make me sleepy. So many times today I could have simply nodded off. But my mom is here and well, the show must go on.

Ok, moving on. Did you know that women are a depreciating asset? Maybe everyone else had already seen the article, but apparently a 25 year old woman posted an ad trying to land a rich husband (as in how to) and got one heck of a response:

"Your looks will fade and my money will likely continue into perpetuity ... in fact, it is very likely that my income increases but it is an absolute certainty that you won't be getting any more beautiful!" the banker wrote.

"So, in economic terms you are a depreciating asset and I am an earning asset," he said. "Let me explain, you're 25 now and will likely stay pretty hot for the next 5 years, but less so each year. Then the fade begins in earnest. By 35 stick a fork in you!"

"It doesn't make good business sense to "buy you" (which is what you're asking) so I'd rather lease," he said.

Ouch.

Hey, I'm in better shape and look better now than I did at 22. I'd like to think I'm more like a fine wine: increasing in value... before I turn into vinegar. And if anyone comes near me with a fork, they're going to have it returned with tabloid-worthy precision. Fade begins in earnest - bite me.

On the other hand, what kind of twit goes and posts something like that? Sounds like she faded long ago, it's just not in a visible manner yet.

So is it straight-line depreciation? Can I write myself off on my taxes?

Strange Day Parade

Yesterday I would have bet money it was Friday the 13th. It was weird from the start to the finish, in a totally bizarre way that only my life seems to be.

I was awoken at just before 4 AM by the screaming of a bird. By screaming, I mean squawking for it's life. We have had chickens for a few years now, and we have had many a night-attack on them by the local wildlife (coyotes, foxes, skunks, raccoons, bobcats, mountain lions, and weasels just to name a few.) Still, in all that time with all those attacks I have never heard a chicken literally screaming for its life. It was seriously disturbing, so I rolled over and smacked Mr. Savy awake (I have tried and failed to wake him without physically mauling him in the past and he just doesn't wake up. So short of pushing him bodily out of the bed, smacking is the best I can do.)

Mr. Savy went out to the coop in the dark with the dogs, and then came charging back calling for the dogs. It turned out it was a skunk, and he remembers how much my dogs seem to enjoy getting sprayed. He had to go out and shoot it, and let me tell you that if you think a skunk nailed on the road smells bad - you seriously have NO idea. Afterwards, the chicken was nowhere to be found (she is our last, we decided to not get chicks this year, so all we have is one tough as nails chicken left.) No feathers, no blood, no body, no chicken. It was a mystery. I decided I'd call Nancy Drew later, I had better things to do.

Even though it was super early, I just stayed up and went on with the day. I got the kids off to school, walked back in the house... and just about died. We have been having a problem in our laundry room. Something smells so bad, I mean worse than a skunk bad. We've removed all the likely culprits, and still we don't know what it is. That smell combined with the unfortunate realization that all the windows on the back side of the house were open with the wind blowing in from the chicken coop. It was a lovely bouquet of rotten-eggs-sulfur-skunk-barf that would put even someone without a sense of smell on the floor gasping for air with tears streaming down their face.

I should mention I have a very sharp and intense sense of smell. Yes. Someone hates me.

I ran around slamming shut windows, lighting scented candles and changing air fresheners. But that didn't eliminate the problem in the laundry room. My suspicions were that the utility sink had issues; all week I had been scrubbing it with bleach and other things trying to eliminate the smell. But do you think I was smart enough to think about plugging the drain and seeing if it got better? No. Not until yesterday, almost a full week after the problem started. My stupidity runs deep.

I decided it would be good to share my stupidity with someone else. Seriously, I live with a rocket scientist (a real one), and HE didn't think of plugging the drain either. So, I called Mr. Savy and apparently he had JUST gotten in, which was odd since it was more than twice the time to normally get to work. He was also freaked out. It turns out that on the way to work he was literally driven off the road. He was going 40 MPH when suddenly a car was coming head on for him, he swerved to miss it, went flying off the road bouncing hard into a deep ditch and continuing to careen up a hill until he stopped facing... wait for it... a CEMETERY! I'm not kidding! How's that for a metaphor?

The other guy stopped and said he had a coughing fit and lost control of his vehicle (have you ever heard of anything like that before?) They exchanged insurance info, and now Mr. Savy's truck is in the shop. Nothing major, it still runs and all, but there is damage. Apparently you cannot go flying into a deep ditch at 40 MPH without some repercussions.

After I got off the phone, I sat on my bed with my books to work on a project and fell asleep... for the entire rest of my day. Which doesn't make sense either. I wasn't that sleepy, I'm not sick, why the heck would I suddenly sleep for five hours? (It's aliens, I'm telling you.) I woke up in time to make it to the school and coach my soccer team, during which in the middle of practice a massive swarm of gnat-like bugs descended on us so heavily we had to all run off the field and end practice. (Plague of gnats?)

I got home and the phone was ringing. It was my one and only neighbor. She had a request: could I please come get my chicken? Huh? Apparently, my missing chicken was on her front porch trying to find a way into their house and had been for the entire afternoon. So, I spent the next hour herding a lone chicken down the road back to my house. Go ahead, picture it, I know you want to. Arms out, talking to the daffy bird and everything. In the rain.

When I got home I just sat on my porch and shook me head. There are days when Mr. Savy and I wonder if we're secretly being taped for a reality show. If so, this must have been either sweeps week or the season finale. Since my mother arrives today from Arizona, I'm betting on sweeps.

Burn, Baby, Burn!

There are so many different kinds of people in the world, it really is amazing. For every type of person, there is an opposite. A lot of this goes to your core values of who you are.

One of the things that I realized about who I am is that I am the type that will "die trying". In other words, I would rather go down in flames than bail before I hit the ground, because to me it is worth it to know I did everything I could. Someone told me that this is my obviously aggressive side/nature; the fact that I'll fight tooth and nail, even if it's a losing battle. It is what made me slap myself back into reality and turn around at 230 lbs and get my life back. It is what got me to the finish line of my 26.2 mile marathon when I was limping and not even running anymore (I didn't cross the line on my hands and knees like some of those Iron Man participants, but I sure felt like it.) It is what enabled me to go back to college even with professors in my face questioning my right to do so.

Interestingly, while I showed signs of this when I was younger (boy, was I a stubborn pain in the butt,) I think it was when I realized my own physical strength and control in my late 20's that brought it all fully to the surface. I can't explain what it is about weightlifting, or running a couple of miles that makes me feel like I can conquer the world or die trying, but the exercise is certainly a stepping stone in retaining my outward grip on my life. While I am fond, to the point of disproportionately proud of the fact that I am a Die Trying type, I acknowledge it's both a strength and a weakness.

There are times when the smart thing to do is to STOP trying. At least that is what some people have told me... and I'm sure in retrospect that there are many instances where I would have gotten a lot less burned had I turned and bailed. But the opposite is true as well; I have crashed and burned and been better for it. However, it's more than likely that many people wouldn't view those results in the same light.

I think it's more about who you are that determines how you feel after the fact of either bailing or burning. That being said, I find it hard to truly appreciate another's perspective when it's about "gettin' out while the gettin's good." At least, I take issue with it when I am in the same boat and have decided to go down with the ship if it comes to that, and I'm left all alone on the open sea while the other person swims to shore WITH my freakin' paddle (sensing some cleverly disguised hostility? 10 bonus points to you! Well spotted.) But hey, that's alright. I'll hand-paddle my way... or swim with the fishes, cussing in bubbles. Whichever. It's all good. It's just who I am.

I'm happy to say that I have learned to appreciate the other perspective as fascinating, because it's so primal and basic. Both have major points in their favor, and if you could balance them you would have the "perfect person" - someone who would take it to the mat, but know when to cut out before it all went up in flames. Two sides of the same coin, both equally valuable. It really is about who you are, when everything else is stripped away.

So my question for you (my deep thought of the week, I only get one you know.... otherwise my head explodes) is what kind of person are you? Are you smart enough to know when to stop and walk away? Or are you the type to go down with the ship, no matter how rough the sea gets?

Edit: I need to clarify that going down with the ship doesn't mean you don't switch to a better way to get what you want - it means finding a way to get from point A to point B one way or another (die trying.) Bailing means giving up on the proposition all together and not going after it at all in any fashion. Sorry I wasn't clear on that.

Brutal Truth From The Inside Out

From my mailbag:

Dear Savy,

I'm so confused with all the diet advice out there. I saw you looked at P90X, but then you talked about Body For Life, and macronutritents and things like that. I'm looking at Southbeach, but I don't understand why it makes fruits off limits and stuff like that. Other diets let you eat butter and bacon. Why can't someone just tell it like it is? What can I eat? What should I not eat? What should I do for exercise? Do I need supplements?

Please help! I'm so confused!

(name omitted)


The reason that you're confused is that there are a lot of answers out there, coupled with a lot of misinformation and people who want to make a fast buck off of the desperate dieting consumer. So, lets break it down to the absolute brutal truth, and then take it back to what is reasonable.

Fruit : Any diet that tells you to avoid fruit like it's evil is suspect. You should see red flags every time any diet tells you to leave out natural foods that you know are good for you.

Vegetables: Same as fruit, if someone is telling you to avoid them, something is wrong with that diet/person. Now, if someone is telling you to subsist off of them, there is something wrong too. You need more than just vegetables in your diet to be healthy. You are not a caterpillar.

Meat/Fish: If a diet tells you to avoid meat, you should ask why. As a vegetarian it is 100% possible to have a 100% healthy diet without meat, but you need protein. You need complete proteins, and that means you need to know what things to eat to create a complete protein. There are a lot of books about being a vegetarian that aren't trying to sell you a diet, those are your best resources (it's been a long time since I was a vegetarian, I don't remember everything anymore.) Meats with a higher fat content are less healthy for you.

Dairy: Is NOT evil. Should you drink milk every day? No, not necessarily. It's up to you. If you would like to, you can work that into your diet. Should you be drinking whole milk? No. Should you have butter? No. Should you have the full fat cheeses? No. Can you? Yes, if you are smart about it and balance it with the rest of your diet.

Grains: Is bread evil? No. Should you avoid all grains? No, absolutely not. Now, realize that there are some people who have a medical need to not have certain grains in their diet. Other people feel better without certain ones (like wheat/gluten). Now, all of that being said, are you better off without processed grains like pasta and bread? Yes. The more UNprocessed the grain, the healthier it is for you. Does that mean you can't have pasta and bread? Of course not, but be smart about it.

Sweets/Junk: Should you have sweets in your diet? No. No ice cream. No cake. No Candy. No chips. No pretzels. No roasted honey peanuts. No fried foods. No Junk. (don't freak out, keep reading.)

Supplements: Do you need them? No. One exception: if your doctor says you need something like calcium for bone-loss or something like that, listen to them. The doctor is a very different source for advice than some fitness guru who is trying to sell you the latest in miracle pills. The FDA has a lot to say about supplements, and most of it negative. Be smart, this is your body and what you put into it is important.

Exercise: Do I really need to exercise? YES. Is 10 minutes a day enough? No. What about those tapes that promise in 20 minutes a day a few times a week? NO. What about 30 minutes a day? You're getting closer. Current research suggests that 30 minutes a day is the MINIMUM. Do I need to lift weights/weight bearing activities? Yes. Cardio? Yes. Do I really need both? YES.

Hey, it's the truth.

Now, reality check: Do you HAVE to do all those things? No, you do not. Living in this world, in your life, requires compromise. Imagine never having a bite of your own birthday cake? That's just silly.

The brutal truth is that you should eat "close to the tree/ground" which means looking for foods as close to their natural form as possible. Oat Bread is seriously processed, steel cut oats are barely processed at all. One is much better for you than the other, it's as simple as that. Ice cream doesn't even figure in anywhere near the tree or the ground. However, that doesn't mean that there isn't room for it in your life. Pizza too. (See? I'm not all evil.)

The truth is that you wouldn't want to go through life gnawing on lettuce and oats. So, you make your nutritional choices as balanced as you can. Strive for the "gold" but balance it with reality. The truth is that as a human being you enjoy the tastes of different things. Find the things that appeal to you and push them to be as healthy as you can. Make some choices that are just flat out 100% perfectly healthy, but not all of them. Give yourself a break... just not a BIG one.

Exercise? There is no way around it. We're a lazy species. We have created ways to not do anything, and then to entertain ourselves while we are actively being inactive. That's fine, but you must balance that out with really doing something at other times. Exercise is absolutely necessary now because of the world we live in. If you were out hand plowing the fields all day, it would be a different story. But now your work to acquire wheat can be as simple as a click of the mouse and waiting for someone to ring your doorbell while you sit and watch television. And driving to the grocery store is certainly not like going out and hand-harvesting the food.

You have eliminated what used to be fundamental activity in your life to exist and filled it with other things. There is a price to be paid in order to feel good and look good now, and that means getting out there and moving your body. You need cardio for many reasons, most of which I'm sure I don't have to repeat. You need weight training of some sort because your body is not holding onto its muscle because you aren't using it. But more than that, you are putting yourself at a physical disadvantage with other activities you actually do engage in because those muscles aren't there to support your body. This sets you up for injury and misery. You don't have to bulk up like a fitness competitor, but you do need to work your muscles with something like weight training (there are other options) in order to feel good, protect from injury, and really to just enjoy your life at a level you would not without it.

Look, all of us want to look like super models of one type or another. But the truth is, we don't lead our lives getting paid for being models. The motivation that exists for them to be perfect is lacking in our lives. The good news is that a lot of those model-perfect people engage in behavior that is actually unhealthy (for example, you MUST EAT -skipping meals is not healthy in any way shape or form,) and you have the opportunity to make sure everything you do is in pursuit of your own well being instead of an image. Believe it or not, you have the better set-up.

Sure, you want to look good. But your primary goal should always be to feel good. If you make your move to ensure that you will feel good inside I promise that you will look amazing on the outside. It's that simple. Stop attacking your lifestyle from the outside in. It doesn't work that way, it's backwards and it's often harmful to work from the outside in. Think about how you feel. How would you like to feel? That is your goal. Set up steps to achieve it. The outside will follow.

Do you have to eat perfect? Absolutely not. This is your life, and you need to live it. That means that you participate now and then in celebrations that involve food and lazing around. But not every day. Most likely not every week.

You need to find things that taste good and are healthy to boot, there are a lot of them. Finding healthy good tasting items is a priority because no one wants to lead a life where everything you eat tastes like cardboard. So what's the solution? Maybe you start with a healthy cooking class or cook book. Experiment. Only you know what you like, so pursue those flavors with an intent to improve them to the point that they are a healthy and a sustainable choice for you. Build your recipe box and pantry until it's filled with what you enjoy that supports who you want to be from the inside out.

What about other family members that you live with? If you are a parent, teaching your children how to be healthy from the inside out is one of the best gifts you can give them. If there is someone in your household who is unsupportive, you have to decide whether to give in to them and let them take you down to an unhealthy level, or if you are important enough to yourself to keep moving in the right direction. Life never stops. You are either moving forward or backwards, and you are choosing every step before you. You can put your foot down on solid or shaky ground, but it is 100% your choice no matter who is voicing their opinion to you.

I have lived with those who do not make the same choices as I do. The answer to handling it is to just be quietly persistent. No, not with them; be persistent with yourself. It is not your job to change their choices and behavior. It might seem like a good idea to retaliate when they attack your lifestyle, but it isn't. The solution is simple: just keep doing what you are doing. Quietly. Let them voice their opinions, but don't engage them in conversation about it unless they ask a reasonable question. You have made your choice, you know it's in your best interests - that is all you need. You don't have to defend yourself, isn't that a relief?

The reason everything is so confusing out there with the million different opinions and advice floating around is because it's about finding balance. With so many people out there, that means that there is a lot of variance in what equals balance for one person verses another. So, here is the best advice I can give anyone who comes to me for nutritional and exercise help: You now know that eating an apple is what you should be doing rather than a glass of apple juice, or an apple flavored soda. You know you need to eat foods as close to natural and healthy as you can. You know that you should be moving your body, and not just for 10 minutes a day. You know what you like about how you feel, and what you wish felt better. And yes, you even know what you would like to look like but you have heard me and understand that how you look is just a result of making everything better from the inside out and will follow in the wake of making the right decisions for the rest of you - it's a sure bet, so you don't even have to worry about it. You also know what things are important in your life whether it be having that birthday cake or getting in that daily nap.

You know you best. You know what things you need in your life so you don't feel shortchanged, but you also know what things in your life are excess. Trim the excess, keep the necessities. Fill the gap with what is healthy, and keep that which brings you a thrill and makes you feel balanced. Find your own balance with the tools you have, but don't ask for someone else to give you the blueprint; only you can do that.

Bearicide

I'm proud to announce that I have found yet another way to add to my nomination to win the award for bad-mommy of the year. I must admit, I didn't even know this one was possible. So adding this little gem to my crown is really an accomplishment! It's uncharted territory of mommy-badness! I'm a pioneer, people!

It all started a couple of weeks ago. I decided to be absolutely horrible and cruel, and make my kids clean out their toy areas. By clean out, I mean weed out all the junk that they never play with anymore so we could donate it, and make my life better because I'm not tripping over unused toys and drowning in headless/armless Barbie dolls.

Those dolls seriously creep me out after a while. It got worse when my son started designing heads for them. I thought about showing him the movie Toy Story, but then thought better of it. It might give him dangerous ideas.

Anyway, we are easily able to donate the toys, but the stuffed animals almost always present a difficulty (unless you live in one of the areas where there are active charities trying to collect them for children who really need them. There are a lot of them, and none anywhere by me.) So, we were unsure what to do with all the stuffed animals. We piled them up in a corner of the garage, just to get them out of the way.

My dog, Cosmo, has a stuffed animal addiction. No, not in an inappropriate in front of guests way. He just likes to steal them, pile them up, and sleep next to them. It turns out that Lhasa Apsos are a lot like two year old toddlers. Go figure. Anyway, Cosmo discovered the pile of stuffed animals and stole a few choice specimens.

One of these was a green-lizard-bear (a VT Teddy Bear Factory one.) He's been dragging it all over the place. Inside. Outside. To places I probably don't want to know about. He's made it his new buddy.

On Thursday I was pulling out of my garage, off to take a massive exam at school. I never saw the bear. I looked, I always look in my mirrors and over my shoulder before pulling out. Most every parent does, because they live in fear of something horrible happening. So we look, even when we know the kids are safely at school and the pets are safely locked up. I looked, saw nothing, pulled out.... felt the car bump.

I decapitated a bear-lizard. It's a clean cut, no real carnage. But that head is most assuredly not attached anymore.

Oops.

My kids got home and saw what had happened and were mightily upset with me. It didn't matter that they didn't want it anymore. Apparently, you must never, under any circumstances, decapitate a teddy bear. It is one of the qualifications for the 9th circle of Hell or something.

If they were hard on me though, it was nothing compared to Cosmo.


What irony is this that I decapitate the dog's bear and end up in the proverbial doghouse myself? I'm sure that there is some sort of teddy-bear abuse squad on its way even now. But they'll never take me alive! I have another 68 stuffed-animal hostages, and I'm not afraid to use 'em!

That Woman

I used to desperately envy runners. It wasn't because they were fast, or even fit. It was because they could throw on a pair of shoes, head out the door for a run on their own, and look forward to getting back home with a sense of accomplishment every time. I used to imagine what it would be like to be that runner, whomever it was that I happened to pass on the road that day, and what it would be like to be pushing the steps behind me all leading up to a hot shower and a sense of "no matter what else happens, I ran today."

Maybe I'm different from other people, but I never fantasized about winning or being fast. I knew from a very young age that being fast was never in the cards for me. Back in school when I was the best at most everything physical, the one thing I could not do was run fast (but boy, could I jump far and climb fast.) All those blue ribbons, and then a "thanks for playing" white one in running on our yearly Field Days event in elementary school used to depress me. I could only think about that white one. But no matter what I did, no matter how much heart I put into it, I couldn't win. Not even close.

Biomechanically, as a runner... technically speaking... I suck. There isn't any nice way to put it. I tried many times in the past to take up running. Usually it lasted to the end of my driveway. It was never as much fun as it looked from the outside, and it sure didn't feel good.

But, years ago I somehow ended up running. Practically by accident, I was just trying to up my exercise and added in 30 seconds of running to every five minutes. And it increased from there until suddenly one day I had run a mile, which eventually lead to a marathon, which lead to me discovering that if you stink at running as bad as I do you NEVER want to do that again... but it was cool doing it once.

I injured myself and had to back off (as in no running) and it was then that I realized I had become addicted. Seriously? Me? To running? You bet. Wasn't this my fondest wish from before? It's a little different from the opposite side of the fence I suppose. But this morning I was able to go out and go for a run in the crisp Fall morning air. I realized as multiple cars passed me, that I was that woman, that runner. I had become that person that I used to spy on my way somewhere and wish I was them for just a brief moment.

And I enjoyed it.

A lot.

At A Different Fair

Today I inadvertently attended a career fair. OK, it wasn't that it was inadvertent precisely... I just didn't know it was going on, wasn't going to go to it once I found out about it, and yet somehow ended up in the middle of it anyway.

I blame aliens.

Have you ever attended a career fair before? I hadn't. I think that this is partially because none ever came to my high school (where I am told they start - the best my school ever did was make us take a computer test and told me I should be a welder or something equally odd. Me with a blowtorch, does anyone think that's a good idea?)

In college the first time around, being in the Fine Arts didn't lend itself to luring in companies who would want me. If anything, I scared them. So back then, none of us art majors went to any of those career fairs either. You know, those flaky artist types who are clearly spending too much time in the fumes. Why on earth would you willingly hire one of those nuts? It's alright. I know that us artsy types tend to be a bit moody. Just a touch. (shut up.)

Anyway, where was I? Oh right, at the fair. So there I found myself this afternoon in the college gym surrounded by a ton of booths with people waving pens and stickers at every person going by. Some of the people attending with me were dressed in full suits with resumes on hand (which made me feel like an idiot being in jeans, but hey, I wasn't going to attend, remember?) Others came rambling in very causal. A couple people were barefoot. I must admit that it was kind of fascinating watching the barefoot jocks try and impress business booth people. The entertainment factor alone of the companies representatives reactions were worth braving the fair for.

Since this is the first career fair I have ever gone to, I have to ask; is law enforcement and military always about 1/3 to half the booths? Because, wow, they were everywhere. State troopers, city police, the police departments from surrounding states, and all branches of the military. I smiled at one New York trooper and said "My, there is a lot of law enforcement here!" And he said with a small smile that they were also secretly working security. I was pretty sure he was making a joke, so I said "Oh, that makes sense. I can imagine the number of pen-thefts here is deplorable!" I'm not certain he got my humor. (note: always watch your humor around people who have guns.)

What was amazing to me, after I turned down the National Guard with a "Trust me, you don't want me. I'd spend more time tripping over things than doing anything I was sent to do..." were the immediate upper level job opportunities at the business booths. Maybe that isn't so amazing to everyone else, but when you started working right out of high school and witnessed the ceiling between those with degrees and those without... well, it really was eye opening. I think if I had just attended one career fair in high-school I might have made some very different choices. I want that for my kids. I'm worried I'm going to turn into one of those mothers who screeches over and over "You WILL go to college, or I will name my dog in my will as my only beneficiary! AND the cat! And maybe the hamster!"

I basically confused the various businesses I spoke with. Most people don't know what to do with a person who has a Fine Arts degree and a BS in Business Administration. They asked, I told them, they kept asking me to repeat myself. Maybe if I had just quipped "Oh, I can make the prettiest business proposals... what do you think of a nice periwinkle parchment with some flourishes for the 10-K, I just know the IRS auditor would appreciate it more..."

No?

Oh well. I have a huge stack of pens, some nifty magnets, a couple whistles that light up, and two beer drinking glasses (no joke.) As the student who got me to go there said "Hey, it isn't about the jobs, it's about the free-stuff!" I guess so.

Addlepate

Do you ever catch yourself doing something so stupid you wonder how you survived this long? It's one of those times when you wonder why Mr. Evolution didn't pop out of your bathroom cabinet with a clipboard tsking at you and saying "Oh no, no. You fail dear, sorry. Back to the primordial ooze with you."

In the past it's been things like practicing with my sword in the living room, shattering the ceiling fan light cover, subsequently slicing open my wrist because of falling glass, and having to explain to others that no, I didn't try to commit suicide - a ceiling fan light attacked me ("oh wow, did you know the sword can reach the light from here? Wow. Yeah. Didn't see that coming. Hmm.") Basically the types of things that any idiot would be able to spot as potentially hazardous and move to avoid it, or stop once it looked as if it was going poorly.

Yesterday, I decided to experiment with my Halloween costume. I own a renaissance wench outfit. It is made up of a light peach colored off the shoulder peasant top, with a black on black corset laced up vest, and black skirt overlaid on a dirty peach one. When I had my very long blond hair and wore it on Halloween many years ago, I got asked if I was Swiss Miss. After that, I made sure that it looked a lot more sexy and a lot less that I was offering hot chocolate to passersby. No one likes to be asked about their marshmallows.

Anyway, with a little tweaking and tying up certain parts of it, it makes a nice pirate's outfit when you pair it with something like a sword. I got a neat pirate sword, and my daughter insisted I go for the eye-patch as well. But I hadn't tried them all on together yet, so last night I did that finally.

You know what I discovered? I'm better blind than with only one eye. I must have walked into more doorways, walls, counters, children and pets than my entire life combined up until then. No depth perception is a bitch. Where is the part where I'm extra-stupid? How about not removing the eye patch because I'm convinced I'll "adjust"? I'd like to use the excuse that I had been drinking, but if I had I might have been surer footed than I was.

So, I'm not going to be a pirate who has lost an eye. I have decided that if I was such a great pirate, I wouldn't have lost my damn eye to begin with. Which, by the way, makes you think a bit more about those pirates with a hook. At least I didn't try to wear one of those. I might have ended up actually needing the eye patch for real (which came first, the hook or the eye patch? I bet the chicken knows.)