Archive for November, 2010

Earworm of the Day

Oh tico-tico tick, oh tico-tico tock,
Oh tico-tico he’s the cuckoo in my clock.
And when he says cuckoo he means it’s time to woo
It’s tico time for all the lovers on the block.
I’ve got a heavy date, a tete-a-tete at eight,
So speak, oh tico, tell me is it getting late?
If I’m on time, cuckoo, but if I’m late, woo-woo,
The one my heart has gone to may not want to wait.

For just a birdie, and a birdie who goes nowhere,
He knows every lovers lane and how to go there.
For in affairs of the heart, my tico’s terribly smart,
He tells me gently, sentiment’ly at the start.
Oh, oh, I can hear my tico-tico callin’,
Because the time is right and shades of night are fallin’.
I love that not-so-cuckoo cuckoo in my clock,
tico-tico tico-tico-tico tock!

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Geeking Out!

Woohoo!!!! Tonight, 11:59 p.m., I will be jammed in a sold-out movie theatre with the incomparable Izzybella and with Elle and a whole lot of other people, watching the penultimate Harry Potter movie.

In honour of the event, and because I’m so excited I can’t stand it, I’m pulling out the sorting hat and sorting my friends. If I miss you somehow, and you want to be sorted, please leave a comment and I’ll get back to you!

We’ll start with Janet, aka Fond of Snape. She is definitely a Gryffindor. Her battles with her health and her courage through it all are inspiring. Go Janet!

The Incomparable Izzybella is a Hufflepuff. That’s not a bad thing, trust me. She is a really hard worker, and makes sure that she sees all of her projects through to completion. She has high work ethics. She’s brave and courageous, and smart, and has all the good qualities that make Hufflepuffs so awesome.

Jehara is really hard to sort, but I’m going to have to go with Gryffindor. The life she has lived has made her tough and enduring, and I believe she will meet any battle head-on, and come out conqueror.

Gypsygrrl is Hufflepuff. She’s very smart–you have to be, to be an R.N.–and very brave, and very hard-working. She has a lot of imagination; she’s a survivor; and she’s another outstanding example of the qualities that Helga Hufflepuff would have admired.

I’m a Ravenclaw. I’m smart, but I’m kind of a scaredy-cat. I can be brave when I must, but I would rather avoid battles and confrontations whenever I can.

My husband is Ravenclaw. I think. He’s brilliant. He’s braver than I am, and he’s amazingly diligent in all of his pursuits and interests, and he’s always wanting to learn more about everything.

Elle is another one who’s hard for me to sort. She’s got qualities of all the houses, including the more admirable qualities of Slytherin house. Having ambition isn’t always a bad thing. She’s very smart, much smarter than she gives herself credit for. And she’s very hard working. I think, though, that I’m going to stick with Slytherin, but with the proviso that she’s not a Muggle-hating Slytherin. She’s one of the good guys.

And now moving on to more ultimate geekdom:

Doctor Who transcends sorting. He is all of the houses combined into one marvellous Doctor. And all of his companions are Gryffindors, because to survive being the Doctor’s companion requires ultimate courage and bravery.

Edward Cullen is a Ravenclaw.
Bella Swann is a Hufflepuff.
Jake is a Gryffindor.

Scarlett O’Hara is a Slytherin all the way
Ashley Wilkes is a Ravenclaw.
Melanie Hamilton Wilkes is a Hufflepuff.
Rhett Butler is a Gryffindor.

Do you agree? Disagree? Want to get sorted? Leave a comment!!! Geek out with me so I don’t feel so lonely. 🙂

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Jimmy Neutron

One of my cow-orkers has been nick-named Jimmy Neutron by Sarah-Bear, not because he’s a genius who can solve anything whilst simultaneously destroying everything, but because he has a big head and swirly brown hair.

Jimmy Neutron is the most negative person I have ever met in my life. You know how some people are so positive that you could gift-wrap a big box of poop and give it to them, and they’d yell, “Cool! There’s gotta be a horse around here somewhere!”? Well, Jimmy Neutron could be in a stable with a dozen prize stallions, and all he’d see is the poop.

Jehara, back when she worked at our company, gave him an amethyst to try to draw off some of the negative energy. Last winter I cleansed it with some rock salt, and after a week of having the crystal immersed in the salt, the salt was greyish black. I’ve NEVER seen a crystal react that way. It was nasty. He keeps the amethyst in his drawer, which is fine, because he’s so negative that poor amethyst doesn’t stand a chance. The last time I saw it it was dull and cloudy.

Jimmy Neutron always expects things to go wrong, and somehow they always do. And he bitches and complains and moans about everything. And when something does go wrong for him, as it inevitably does, he complains loudly and triumphantly, because he has been proved right.

The only reason (well, besides the fact that I try to be a decent human being) that I haven’t smacked the crap out of him is because my friend Jen sat right next to me, and she was kind of a buffer. We’d exchange looks when Jimmy Neutron was being worse than usual, and she’d always say something in her clear sweet voice about how much he cusses or how much she wanted to throw something at him. It usually shut him up, and made me giggle silently, and it was all good.

But Jen is no longer here. She’s 8 months pregnant and can’t stand sitting up all day anymore. So today she came, finished cleaning out her desk, and left. I’m very sad, because I like Jen a lot, and have loved working with her. That’s all totally apart from any bonding we did over the frustrations of sitting by Jimmy Neutron.

And then after lunch Jimmy Neutron was on it again. Everything that can possibly go wrong is going wrong, and he’s all triumphantly and perversely happy about it, and I just wanted to smack him silly. (Not literally.) (Not entirely.)

So I went to my boss and begged her to let me move to a different spot, and she’s kind and compassionate and Jimmy Neutron drives her batty as well, so she agreed. I’ll be far enough from him that when he’s muttering, I won’t be able to hear him. Of course, when he’s on a serious rant, or when he’s bugging Lo (by whom I’ll be sitting), I’ll still hear him, so it’s not a complete escape. But I’ll take what I can get and be happy about it.

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I’ve been sleeping on the sofa for the last week or so. It’s not the most comfortable thing in the world, but it suffices.   The only way Joe and I can comfortably sleep together is if we were on a king-sized mattress (or larger), and there’s no room in our house for a king-sized bed.  And he’s been working such insane hours I figure he deserves the comfort of the bed.

Anyway, since I’ve been sleeping on the sofa, every morning I have waken up with a tennis ball either in my arms or next to my head.  I was a little puzzled, because I’m not in the habit of snuggling up to tennis balls.  I snuggle up to my husband, and I snuggle up to my dogs, and I even snuggle up to Chase’s hoodie that Clover so graciously gave me.  But tennis balls?  Not so much.

I think I’ve figured it out, though.  I made sure last night that there were no balls on or in the sofa.  Just me, a pillow, and a cover.  Once again, sure enough, I woke up with a tennis ball in my arms.

I think it’s Molly.  I’ve seen her bring us balls or treats that she wants to trade what we’re eating, and I think she’s bringing me tennis balls (her favourite toys) to keep me company during the night.  And I think that’s really sweet and super smart of her.

She’s a border collie, and she’s incredibly smart.  Like if she has to pee in the house when no one’s home? She does it on the bathroom floor, because we pee in the bathroom. She can’t quite manage the toilet, but the bathroom floor is the obvious choice.

I mentioned her trading toys or treats for what we’re eating–she doesn’t do it too often, but every now and then one of us will be eating something she considers particularly delectable.  She’ll go get a tennis ball or a rawhide, drop it at our feet, and gaze at us expectantly. I can easily resist the pleading imploring looks, as either dog could tell you, but smarts I find irresistible.

I love my babies.

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Veteran’s Day

Thank you to all the courageous men and women who do and have put your lives on the line to protect and defend our nation. Thank you to their families, who willingly part with their loved ones while they serve the country. Your sacrifices are received with a grateful heart.

My father and my mother both served in the U.S. Navy. My brother served in the U.S. Army. My grandfather was in the military. I’ve had great-uncles in the military.  And so back it goes, as far as I’ve been able to trace.

In the Civil War, one of my great-great-granduncles fought for the Union, and perished on the first day of the Battle of Shiloh.  I’m proud to call him family.  He was young, and paid the ultimate price.   I’m sure I had other relatives fighting for the Union, and I salute them.

I probably had kin who fought for the Confederacy and likewise gave their lives for their homes and country, and I respect them as well.

While Joe was in Germany, he took photographs of a war memorial from World War I and World War II. It was a poignant reminder that even those whom we perceive to be the enemy are fighting for their homes, their families, their country, what they believe to be a just cause, and their families mourn their loss.

To all veterans, I just want to say thank you.

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I almost forgot!

The most important thing: My 19th wedding anniversary was Monday.  Just think–19 years, and despite our all-too-frequent arguments and orders to the other to just leave and not come back, we’re still mostly happily married.

We agreed that our anniversary gift to each other would be Season 5 of Doctor Who, which we didn’t get to watch because we don’t have cable or satellite television.  So we’ve been in Doctor Who withdrawal all year. Let me tell you, that’s serious.   But the release date was Tuesday, not Monday, so I stopped and got Joe a card, some really delicious toffee-flavoured caramels, and a cute little teddy bear. He was irate, because he didn’t do anything for me.

Let’s see, he works incredibly long hours at very complex situations, traveling all the time, staying up day and night and day and night until the job’s complete.  He takes care of things around the house while he’s home. He takes the dogs for walks and cleans up their poop (the poop-cleaning being my number one all-time least favourite job ever). He takes them to the vet if he’s in town when they need to go. He uses his frequent flier miles to fly our best friends’ daughter home for holidays from university. He tolerates, patiently or not-so-patiently, my quirks and idiosyncracies that make me a very difficult person to live with.  If I ask him to go make me a bath, he’ll run a tub full of hot water with foamy white bubblebath and candles.  When it’s cherry season, he buys me cherries by the pound, even springing for the more expensive Ranier cherries that are my favourite.  When we go to the movies, he gets me frozen Cokes without even asking. He takes our honourary nephews out to Guitar Center and buys them guitars and amps and whatever accessories they need. He sends me to get my hair done at Toni & Guy. He lets me buy clothes at Coldwater Creek and doesn’t complain about how much they cost.  He brings me baseball caps from every city/country he visits.  He brought me Swiss chocolate from Germany.  Mmmmmm.

When all’s said and done, I think he does a helluva lot for me.

But when I got home yesterday afternoon, he wasn’t there. I figured he’d gone out to B.est B.uy to purchase Doctor Who, per plan.  So I sat and read for a while, after playing with the dogs. He came home with flowers, Godiva (much Godiva), Japanese food for dinner, an adorable card, a small Yankee candle, an incredibly cute little beanie baby dog, a few groceries, and season 5 of Doctor Who on blu-ray! Trust me when I tell you that just the regular DVD would have been fine, because our blu-ray player makes even regular DVD’s look sharp and crisp and clean.  So we ate Japanese food and chocolate, and watched the first three episodes of Doctor who before pooping out for the night.

David Tennant is still my favourite Doctor, but the new Doctor is very good. I don’t envy the challenge he had, to replace one of the most popular Doctors.  He does a fantastic job, and his companion, Amy Pond, is amazing. I can’t wait to get home and watch three more episodes tonight. Maybe four, because I don’t have to spend an hour at the Sprint store waiting for them to tell me they can’t fix my phone.

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Guten Tag

Ich heisse Faith. Scheisse.  Guten Morgen.  And that, my friends, is the extent of my German language skills. Pretty impressive, eh?  Joe’s been studying German, hoping he gets to go back for a project that would keep him there for anywhere from a month to three months.  So I’ve picked up a word or two here and there. Although I will confess that I have known scheisse for years, and it’s one of my favourite swear words. Joe got home from Germany and told me that he now knows what it means and I’m not allowed to say that. To that, I respond, scheisse! I’ll say what I want to say.

My phone is totally and completely hosed. I was about to read a text message from the incomparable Izzybella on Sunday, and it suddenly went dead.  I went to the Sprint repair center yesterday, and they agree that it’s totally and completely hosed, and they’ve ordered me a new one. Normally, I guess, it would be there the next day, but he said because it was so late it would probably be Thursday before it arrives.  So if anyone needs to reach me in the meantime, shoot me an email, please. Or you can call Joe’s phone, and if you need that number shoot me an email, please. 🙂

That is all. Sehr gut. (Right? It’s all good?) Okay, guess I know a wee bit more German. I know a few numbers in German, but not even enough to count to ten, and I certainly don’t know how to spell them.  So if you’ve read this far, danke. Bitte? Is that please?

And for the record, I know how to say good-bye and thank you in Russian, although I cannot spell them even in English, much less in Cyrillic.  Thank you sounds like spice-e-buh, and good-bye sounds like duh-svedanya. Unless I have them mixed up with each other. Which I doubt.

And then I have a little Italian as well.  One of these days I’d like to really buckle down and study languages.

Okay, and this really is all. You may now return to your regularly scheduled life.

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Bonding with my babies

I started brushing the dogs every evening a week or so ago.  I’m not sure why I decided to pull the brush out, but it’s turned out to be a great time for us all.  Molly stands there and grins the entire time, occasionally shifting to make sure I get her brushed everywhere she needs it.  And her coat, that’s been a little dull, has started to get shinier.  Scout dances with impatience the entire time that Molly’s getting brushed, and as soon as she meanders off he rushes to my side and plops down, belly up, for his turn.  His coat is always shiny and glossy, but the daily brushing makes it look even better.   They both love it so much, and it’s such a small thing. My dogs make me happy.

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I usually vote early, but with one thing and another (aka, coming out of a severe depression) didn’t get around to it.  No problem, I thought, thought I, I’ll just vote on Election Day.

Election Day rolls around. I didn’t have time to vote before work because I have to be at work at 7:30 and I work a fair distance from home.  Normally I would have voted anyway, and stayed late at work to make up my time, but I had an appointment with my therapist after work.  Still, no problem, I thought, thought I, I’ll get home from therapy in time to vote.

I get out of therapy at 6 p.m. I’m in Dallas, mind you, well, Carrollton, which is Dallas in my point of view although the Carrolltonians and Dallasites may differ, and I walk to my car and lo! I had a flat tire.

No problem, I thought, thought I; there was a Firestone less than a block away. They could fix my flat and I’d get to the polling place by the seat of my pants, but I’d get there in time to vote.

Alas. It wasn’t to be. There was a huge nail in my tire, and it had gotten all twisted up, and apparently there was enough damage that the tire was not fixable. So I had to get it replaced. I also learned that there’s a bolt loose in my rack & pinion and I have to go back (or go somewhere) and have it tightened so my rack & pinion doesn’t come loose and fall out of my car while I’m driving down the freeway at 70 miles an hour.  They couldn’t fix that last night because they closed at 7.  Anyway, it was 8:00 before I got home.

The moral of this story, for those of us who live in Texas, is to vote early, because you never know what kinds of trauma may await you on Election Day.

N.B. — I’m not complaining here.  I’m very grateful that if I were going to have a flat tire, it would happen less than a block from a tire place, particularly given that my husband is in Germany and my sister is on a Caribbean cruise.

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All I Have to Do is Dream

One of the side effects of the medicine I am–thankfully–back on is crazy insane dreams.  Seriously. 

For instance, here’s my Sunday night dream:

I dreamed I had a daughter. I wanted to name her Charlotte Jane, and call her Carly for short, and she told me she didn’t like the name Charlotte.  So we agreed that her first name would be Jane and we’d call her Janie, and she said she wanted her middle name to be Tulip.  Jane Tulip.  Funny, right?  But it seemed perfectly logical in my dream that my newborn daughter would be talking, although she went from being newborn to being a very advanced 1-year-old in no time.  And I was two people in the dream, Mom and myself. Mom-me gave Janie some darts, and then the dogs went missing.  So we were all looking for the dogs, and Janie was looking guilty. Faith-me finally got it out of her that she’d used the dogs for target practice, and they’d run away because they didn’t want to be stuck with darts. She didn’t mean it meanly, she just didn’t realize how much it would hurt. And then Faith-me had a whole bunch of homework to do, but instead of doing my homework I went off to some canyons in a Moab-looking place that just happened to be a few miles from home. And for her first birthday Faith-me gave Janie a fancy Barbie doll and a Spike doll, and she had them doing very inappropriate things.  You wouldn’t believe the fancy invitations Mom-me was hand-making for her first birthday party.  Mom-me was having trouble finishing them because I was simultaneously trying to find the dogs, and then Joe got exasperated and took all the balloons outside and cut the ribbons so they’d fly away, because for some reason Mom-me was attaching helium balloons to each party invitation.

I mean, where the heck did that come from????

Then last night’s dream was just as insane. I was in a training class that happened to be held at the University of Texas in Arlington, which was located in downtown Salt Lake City.  During break I walked down to the School of Social Work, and the tornado sirens went off while I was there, so I was stuck in the basement until they let us go.  When I left the SSW, it was still raining, and I was trotting back to the building my training was in.  Somehow I managed to walk 6 blocks out of my way, and stopped for pizza in the building next door on my way back.  Might I mention that I was wearing a steampunk style outfit with incredibly high heels–the kind of heels that I could never wear in real life thanks to my knee–that were totally comfortable. The shoes were so high that I kept admiring them while I was walking, simultaneously marvelling at how comfortable they were. Anyway, I finally got back to the building my training was held in, but it had flooded and people were perched on top of desks that were floating in the 3 or 4 feet of water that had magically fallen within half an hour or so. 

The downside to all the crazy dreaming is that I wake up totally exhausted.  This morning I nearly had 2 accidents because I was so sleepy I had trouble keeping my eyes open. And I can’t take the medicine any earlier than I already do–I take it at 6:30 and it takes a few hours for me to fall asleep.

I wonder what crazy adventures I’ll have tonight.

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