I was in my car on the way home tonight with the radio tuned to 99.1 WHFS. Alternative rock. Good station.
First band I heard: Weezer doing "Say It Ain't So".
Instant flashback to The Boy playing his guitar and stretching his vocal range to sing said song. But I didn't feel sad this time. I enjoyed the memory.
Progress!
September 30, 2004
Rainy Days and Mondays?
What is up with rainy mornings? Why does a bit of rain make it sooooo hard to get out of bed? And it's not just me who is affected. This morning our whole routine was altered because the dogs were fast asleep longer than they usually are. I got up, showered, fed the cat, and then woke up the dogs. Yes, you read that right. I had to WAKE UP our dogs this morning. They seemed surprised to see me standing there fully dressed.
Uh wait. I have no idea if the dogs notice what I'm wearing. They've never commented on it before, although they do have a special affinity for getting up-close and personal when I'm wearing my black slacks. The surprise on their faces this morning could have been something else altogether. Like not even surprise at all. Perhaps I had had the same "huh?" expression on my face when the alarm woke me up. More a "hey it's dark and wet outside, I can't possibly be expected to wake up to a morning like this!"
Yeah. I think we all looked like that.
Uh wait. I have no idea if the dogs notice what I'm wearing. They've never commented on it before, although they do have a special affinity for getting up-close and personal when I'm wearing my black slacks. The surprise on their faces this morning could have been something else altogether. Like not even surprise at all. Perhaps I had had the same "huh?" expression on my face when the alarm woke me up. More a "hey it's dark and wet outside, I can't possibly be expected to wake up to a morning like this!"
Yeah. I think we all looked like that.
September 29, 2004
Another Case of Getting What You Pay For?
Sick of it.
Sick of losing posts.
Sick of knowing I should save them off-line but being too lazy to consistently do so.
Sick of kicking myself when I lose one.
Sick of not being able to blog when I feel the urge because BlogSpot has a "technical difficulty".
Sick sick sick sick sick sick sick.
And whiny.
Sick of losing posts.
Sick of knowing I should save them off-line but being too lazy to consistently do so.
Sick of kicking myself when I lose one.
Sick of not being able to blog when I feel the urge because BlogSpot has a "technical difficulty".
Sick sick sick sick sick sick sick.
And whiny.
Dusting 'Em Off
Wendy has been digging deep into the older part of our CD collection. Way back, before she and I were even aware the other existed, we both had a thing for country music. So digging deep into our collection means she is revisiting those days of country music adoration.
Which is why she asked me to whom the Lorrie Morgan's Greatest Hits CD belonged. Was it mine or was it hers? Because we share such similar tastes, at times it is impossible to remember who brought what into the relationship. Not that it matters. Hers-mine-ours thing and all. Anyway, I remembered the Lorrie Morgan as having been mine and said so. She look surprised, shrugged and then popped it in the CD player.
She looked even more surprised when I asked if this was the CD with some song about red on it. "You like that song?" she asked suspiciously. "Why yes," I said, "I like it a lot!" Again I get the surprised look because usually the ballads "belong" to her while the up-tempo song "belong" to me. It doesn't vary much by artist either. We can listen to the same CD and invariably she'll get attached to the slow sweet songs and I'll prefer the more upbeat.
So we listened to that Lorrie Morgan CD together and agreed that she had been hot hot hot back in the day. It was fun enjoying those old songs again.
From there comes my suggestion to you. Dig back through those old CDs collecting dust on your shelves. I highly recommend an auditory trip down memory lane.
Which is why she asked me to whom the Lorrie Morgan's Greatest Hits CD belonged. Was it mine or was it hers? Because we share such similar tastes, at times it is impossible to remember who brought what into the relationship. Not that it matters. Hers-mine-ours thing and all. Anyway, I remembered the Lorrie Morgan as having been mine and said so. She look surprised, shrugged and then popped it in the CD player.
She looked even more surprised when I asked if this was the CD with some song about red on it. "You like that song?" she asked suspiciously. "Why yes," I said, "I like it a lot!" Again I get the surprised look because usually the ballads "belong" to her while the up-tempo song "belong" to me. It doesn't vary much by artist either. We can listen to the same CD and invariably she'll get attached to the slow sweet songs and I'll prefer the more upbeat.
So we listened to that Lorrie Morgan CD together and agreed that she had been hot hot hot back in the day. It was fun enjoying those old songs again.
From there comes my suggestion to you. Dig back through those old CDs collecting dust on your shelves. I highly recommend an auditory trip down memory lane.
Greenbacks
Two odd things happened with money yesterday.
First, my friend Bonnie treated me to lunch at the Village Wharf, a local restaurant. (As an aside, the food there has greatly improved since the new owners took over.) We finished our meal. She dug a $20 bill out of her purse and was holding it out quite prominently in front of her. Our server walked by and asked "Are you ready for your check?" I almost said, "No, dear, she's waving that money around in the hope of getting a lap dance from you."
Then I was in an Office Depot to buy mailing labels. The purchase totaled $10.84. I handed the cashier a $20 bill and a $1 bill. She held them up in front of her and scrutinized them closely. I could see the confusion on her face. She said "The total is only $10.84. Do you want to just give me the $20 instead?" The man in line behind me snickered. I explained why I had given her the bills I had given her. She seemed mildly offended, but I don't know if it was at me or at the snickering man in line behind me.
First, my friend Bonnie treated me to lunch at the Village Wharf, a local restaurant. (As an aside, the food there has greatly improved since the new owners took over.) We finished our meal. She dug a $20 bill out of her purse and was holding it out quite prominently in front of her. Our server walked by and asked "Are you ready for your check?" I almost said, "No, dear, she's waving that money around in the hope of getting a lap dance from you."
Then I was in an Office Depot to buy mailing labels. The purchase totaled $10.84. I handed the cashier a $20 bill and a $1 bill. She held them up in front of her and scrutinized them closely. I could see the confusion on her face. She said "The total is only $10.84. Do you want to just give me the $20 instead?" The man in line behind me snickered. I explained why I had given her the bills I had given her. She seemed mildly offended, but I don't know if it was at me or at the snickering man in line behind me.
September 28, 2004
Marauders Week 3: 0-3
Oh yes, yet another humiliating week for my fantasy football team. If I could only have a week when, say, 3/4 of my team has a decent week, then maybe I could pull off a win. But no. The way it's going right now, half my players forget how to play while the other half does their job.
Still too early to change their name, but I'm getting close.
Still too early to change their name, but I'm getting close.
Stretching
Six years ago I took my first yoga class. I recall no specifics of how or why I elected to do so, but I do recall being excited about it.
The pleasure I gained was almost sinful. After a long day of work, I'd join a quiet group in a quiet room, stretch out on a soft mat, and be instructed to "clear your mind" and "think of nothing but yourself, your body, and how you feel right here right now". For a mother who also worked outside of the home, it was heaven. Guilt-free mandatory relaxation.
After the opening relaxation period, we'd go through a bunch of stretches, deep breathing and more relaxation exercises. I'd always leave there feeling rejuvenated and fresh. I know, I know. It sounds bogus. But until you've tried it for yourself, don't be too quick to write it off.
I attended these classes for about a year. The instructor was eastern European and had a fabulous accent. He always spoke softly. He was good at what he did. There were several words he'd say often during the classes, two of which I clearly remember because of the way he pronounced them. "Nostril" sounded like "nos-TREEL" and "abdomen" became "abDOEmen".
How often does the word "nostril" get used in conversation? Not often. But he was instructing, not conversing. The word "nostril" came up extraordinarily often. Breathing and such. Whatever. Nos-TREEL. Love it.
So six years later, I decide I could use another dose of mandatory relation. I signed up with the same county park authority at the same location as before. And to my great delight, the teacher of the class is the same. I was grinning like an idiot when he walked in because I had been secretly hoping he'd still be teaching at this location and.... score! There he was.
What fascinates me is how the demographics of the class have changed over those interim years. Six years ago, the class was mainly middle-agish women with one 20-something male hippy tossed in for variety. Now, it's primarily couples in their 50s and 60s with a few single middle-agish women tossed in for variety.
So for the next 10 weeks on Wednesday evenings I'll be mandatorily relaxing for an entire hour and a half. My hand will be on my abDOEmen while I breathe deeply through my nos-TREELS. I'm one happy relaxer.
The pleasure I gained was almost sinful. After a long day of work, I'd join a quiet group in a quiet room, stretch out on a soft mat, and be instructed to "clear your mind" and "think of nothing but yourself, your body, and how you feel right here right now". For a mother who also worked outside of the home, it was heaven. Guilt-free mandatory relaxation.
After the opening relaxation period, we'd go through a bunch of stretches, deep breathing and more relaxation exercises. I'd always leave there feeling rejuvenated and fresh. I know, I know. It sounds bogus. But until you've tried it for yourself, don't be too quick to write it off.
I attended these classes for about a year. The instructor was eastern European and had a fabulous accent. He always spoke softly. He was good at what he did. There were several words he'd say often during the classes, two of which I clearly remember because of the way he pronounced them. "Nostril" sounded like "nos-TREEL" and "abdomen" became "abDOEmen".
How often does the word "nostril" get used in conversation? Not often. But he was instructing, not conversing. The word "nostril" came up extraordinarily often. Breathing and such. Whatever. Nos-TREEL. Love it.
So six years later, I decide I could use another dose of mandatory relation. I signed up with the same county park authority at the same location as before. And to my great delight, the teacher of the class is the same. I was grinning like an idiot when he walked in because I had been secretly hoping he'd still be teaching at this location and.... score! There he was.
What fascinates me is how the demographics of the class have changed over those interim years. Six years ago, the class was mainly middle-agish women with one 20-something male hippy tossed in for variety. Now, it's primarily couples in their 50s and 60s with a few single middle-agish women tossed in for variety.
So for the next 10 weeks on Wednesday evenings I'll be mandatorily relaxing for an entire hour and a half. My hand will be on my abDOEmen while I breathe deeply through my nos-TREELS. I'm one happy relaxer.
September 27, 2004
Monday Night Football
Wendy: "Why aren't John Madden's eyebrows grey like the rest of his hair?"
Me: "I don't know."
But then it got interesting.
Me: "I don't know."
But then it got interesting.
Sticker
Saw this on a car in Old Town on the way to work this morning:
'nuff said.
Regime Change 2004
'nuff said.
September 26, 2004
Inside Outside
This morning I picked up sticks, swept the driveways and raked and bagged leaves in the front yard. Meanwhile, Wendy was doing some sweeping and bagging of her own, albeit that of a different variety. Now our house is neat and clean inside and outside.
I came across another bit of suburban wildlife to share. I've seen these particular caterpillar-type creatures before, but I do not know what they are. I snapped this photo and went about my business. Checking back on him every so often, I noticed that he was burrowing into the soil. By the time I finished my work outside, there was only a pencil-eraser-sized piece of him remaining aboveground.
I came across another bit of suburban wildlife to share. I've seen these particular caterpillar-type creatures before, but I do not know what they are. I snapped this photo and went about my business. Checking back on him every so often, I noticed that he was burrowing into the soil. By the time I finished my work outside, there was only a pencil-eraser-sized piece of him remaining aboveground.
September 25, 2004
Polenta
Have you had any experience with this stuff? Polenta, that is. I'm pretty sure I had eaten it before we ate it the other night, but I know I had never before prepared it.
It came packaged like sausage. Not link sausage, the other kind. The kind that gets sliced into patties and fried. It looked like a roll of sausage. Except it was yellow with a few green flakes. And it was not in the refrigerated section of Trader Joe's. It was on the bottom shelf near my toes on the pasta and sauce aisle. The efficient packaging with the appealing shape caught my eye as I scanned the shelves.
"Polenta!" I thought as I closely scrutinized the package and gave it a gentle squeeze. "I like this stuff, don't I? I want to cook it!" So into the basket it went.
That was about six weeks ago. Ever since, this roll of basil garlic polenta has been in our kitchen cabinet awaiting it's fate. Which would be to be eaten, as soon as I remembered to plan a meal including it.
So Tuesday while I was shopping and planning meals for the week, I did remember to include the polenta. Thursday night was the night! First I sliced it into half-inch patties per the directions. It felt just a tad gelatinous and grainy at the same time. Figero was sitting over on his counter watching me, so I gave him a little chunk to taste test. He liked it. Wendy wandered in and she took a little taste too. Dud and Cosi looked a bit offended, so a little bite went to each of them also. No one raved about the taste, but no one complained either.
Next it went into a pre-heated skillet with a little olive oil. I was expecting the polenta slices to get crispy and brown, but such was not the case. The exterior did get a tiny bit crispy, but the color never changed despite me pushing up the heat. Wendy wandered in again as I was investigating the underside of one piece. She expressed pleasure that it had not gotten brown! We laughed. With some food things, she and I are quite different.
The polenta went well with the rest of dinner (london broil and steamed spinach). I'd like to learn how to use it in other ways. The taste was a little bland even with a dab of gravy on it, but the texture was nice. It all got eaten so I guess I'll be looking for other ways to incorporate it into meal plans. Supposedly it has Italian roots, but I think of it as Mexican. I have this idea to roll the polenta out flat, spreading a layer of spicy shredded beef on top, and rolling it all up jelly-roll style. Or maybe using it as a casserole layer somehow. There's potential there!
I'm getting used to cooking for two and am finally getting comfortable in our kitchen. It's only taken a year to adjust.
It came packaged like sausage. Not link sausage, the other kind. The kind that gets sliced into patties and fried. It looked like a roll of sausage. Except it was yellow with a few green flakes. And it was not in the refrigerated section of Trader Joe's. It was on the bottom shelf near my toes on the pasta and sauce aisle. The efficient packaging with the appealing shape caught my eye as I scanned the shelves.
"Polenta!" I thought as I closely scrutinized the package and gave it a gentle squeeze. "I like this stuff, don't I? I want to cook it!" So into the basket it went.
That was about six weeks ago. Ever since, this roll of basil garlic polenta has been in our kitchen cabinet awaiting it's fate. Which would be to be eaten, as soon as I remembered to plan a meal including it.
So Tuesday while I was shopping and planning meals for the week, I did remember to include the polenta. Thursday night was the night! First I sliced it into half-inch patties per the directions. It felt just a tad gelatinous and grainy at the same time. Figero was sitting over on his counter watching me, so I gave him a little chunk to taste test. He liked it. Wendy wandered in and she took a little taste too. Dud and Cosi looked a bit offended, so a little bite went to each of them also. No one raved about the taste, but no one complained either.
Next it went into a pre-heated skillet with a little olive oil. I was expecting the polenta slices to get crispy and brown, but such was not the case. The exterior did get a tiny bit crispy, but the color never changed despite me pushing up the heat. Wendy wandered in again as I was investigating the underside of one piece. She expressed pleasure that it had not gotten brown! We laughed. With some food things, she and I are quite different.
The polenta went well with the rest of dinner (london broil and steamed spinach). I'd like to learn how to use it in other ways. The taste was a little bland even with a dab of gravy on it, but the texture was nice. It all got eaten so I guess I'll be looking for other ways to incorporate it into meal plans. Supposedly it has Italian roots, but I think of it as Mexican. I have this idea to roll the polenta out flat, spreading a layer of spicy shredded beef on top, and rolling it all up jelly-roll style. Or maybe using it as a casserole layer somehow. There's potential there!
I'm getting used to cooking for two and am finally getting comfortable in our kitchen. It's only taken a year to adjust.
O's Win, Just for Us
Wendy and I were treated to a glorious night at the ballpark last evening. The weather could not have been better, mid-60s and clear.
Our seats were directly behind home plate in the upper section of the stadium. Neither of us had watched a game from that perspective before. It was a great view of the field, but hard to get a feel for the angle of balls as they were hit.
So the O's got off to a 3 run lead in the first inning, but lost it in the 5th. In the bottom of the 9th, we still trailed by one run. With two out and two on, Tejada came through with a walk-off homer to win the game.
Sweet!
Our seats were directly behind home plate in the upper section of the stadium. Neither of us had watched a game from that perspective before. It was a great view of the field, but hard to get a feel for the angle of balls as they were hit.
So the O's got off to a 3 run lead in the first inning, but lost it in the 5th. In the bottom of the 9th, we still trailed by one run. With two out and two on, Tejada came through with a walk-off homer to win the game.
Sweet!
September 24, 2004
Applesauce
I picked up some new treats for Cosine and Dudley while I was at the pet store today. The main ingredient is applesauce. After some initial suspicious sniffing and pushing around with their noses, they both ate them.
I've seen recipes for making dog treats at home but have never tried it. Maybe I should.
I've seen recipes for making dog treats at home but have never tried it. Maybe I should.
Political Bumpers?
I came across this site, where a list of automobiles and the political bumper stickers they wear is being compiled. The site owners will produce statistical analyses such as "Political Leaning by Car Type".
Seems most of the "spotters" are in the NoVa/DC area, with a few in other parts of the country. It would be interesting to have another column added to their data for what state the license tag is from. Well, interesting to me anyway. :)
Seems most of the "spotters" are in the NoVa/DC area, with a few in other parts of the country. It would be interesting to have another column added to their data for what state the license tag is from. Well, interesting to me anyway. :)
TGIF
Wendy and I are packing our hoodies and heading for Baltimore this evening! A friend from her office gave us tickets for tonight's Orioles game. Yeah, so what if they are big losers? We love them anyway. And so what if they are playing another loser of a team in a meaningless game? The crack of the bat sounds the same.
Sometimes it's all about atmosphere, you know?
Sometimes it's all about atmosphere, you know?
September 23, 2004
What's a Good Night's Sleep Worth?
It has been 35 days, give or take an hour and a few seconds, since Wendy and I quit smoking.
Wait! Hold your applause until I finish, please.
Oh never mind. Go ahead and clap. Nothing else I say here will be more worthy of applause.
So it's been 35 days. And in that time, neither Wendy nor I have had a decent night's sleep. We toss, we turn, every so often we drowse a bit, we push a dog out of the way, we re-arrange pillows, we turn, we toss. It's maddening. Criminally so. Sleepy time is no longer happy funland. It's more like cranky crappy irritationtown. The lack of sleep also is evaporating our patience when wakefulness is desired and/or required.
Last evening as we discussed our continued frustration and yearning for a good night's sleep, Wendy did what perhaps we should have done when we first started experiencing this problem. She googled for an answer. And while she didn't find a specific solution, she did find some interesting information.
Were you aware that nicotine causes caffeine to metabolize faster? Well, we were not. Upon learning that little tidbit of information, a large lightbulb turned on in my head and hope sprang forth! Bright rays of golden sunshine!
As an aside, because it's been bugging the crap out of me since I realized it was happening, I've discovered another thing about quitting smoking. A side effect I've never heard anyone even hint around about. You yourself may well be hearing it here for the first time. Quitting smoking makes you stupid. Yes, you heard me correctly: stupid. My brain has just not been functioning as well as I am used to having it function. I sincerely hope it's temporary because it's pissing me off.
Then again, maybe my mental dullness is due more to sleeplessness. I mulled over the relationship between caffeine, metabolism and nicotine.
I'm a moderate coffee drinker. Several cups in the morning and one cup in the afternoon around 3:00. I used to drink two or three cups in the afternoon. When that started messing with my sleep a few years ago, I cut back to just the one. Of late, I've been hyper almost to the point of distraction after my morning coffee. I never considered I was over-caffeinated because I was not consuming any more caffeine than usual. I attributed the frenetic feelings to my smoking cessation. Just an adjustment period, that's all.
So knowing my brain has not been as sharp as it should, I have now decided the cure for our sleeplessness is to eliminate the excess caffeine racing around in our systems that previously had been metabolized by nicotine. Our intake must be reduced.
Buh-bye to my afternoon coffee, hello to a good night's sleep? Why the hell did it take me so long to connect those particular dots? No one warned me my brain would not function as well without nicotine.
Smoking is evil.
Wait! Hold your applause until I finish, please.
Oh never mind. Go ahead and clap. Nothing else I say here will be more worthy of applause.
So it's been 35 days. And in that time, neither Wendy nor I have had a decent night's sleep. We toss, we turn, every so often we drowse a bit, we push a dog out of the way, we re-arrange pillows, we turn, we toss. It's maddening. Criminally so. Sleepy time is no longer happy funland. It's more like cranky crappy irritationtown. The lack of sleep also is evaporating our patience when wakefulness is desired and/or required.
Last evening as we discussed our continued frustration and yearning for a good night's sleep, Wendy did what perhaps we should have done when we first started experiencing this problem. She googled for an answer. And while she didn't find a specific solution, she did find some interesting information.
Were you aware that nicotine causes caffeine to metabolize faster? Well, we were not. Upon learning that little tidbit of information, a large lightbulb turned on in my head and hope sprang forth! Bright rays of golden sunshine!
As an aside, because it's been bugging the crap out of me since I realized it was happening, I've discovered another thing about quitting smoking. A side effect I've never heard anyone even hint around about. You yourself may well be hearing it here for the first time. Quitting smoking makes you stupid. Yes, you heard me correctly: stupid. My brain has just not been functioning as well as I am used to having it function. I sincerely hope it's temporary because it's pissing me off.
Then again, maybe my mental dullness is due more to sleeplessness. I mulled over the relationship between caffeine, metabolism and nicotine.
I'm a moderate coffee drinker. Several cups in the morning and one cup in the afternoon around 3:00. I used to drink two or three cups in the afternoon. When that started messing with my sleep a few years ago, I cut back to just the one. Of late, I've been hyper almost to the point of distraction after my morning coffee. I never considered I was over-caffeinated because I was not consuming any more caffeine than usual. I attributed the frenetic feelings to my smoking cessation. Just an adjustment period, that's all.
So knowing my brain has not been as sharp as it should, I have now decided the cure for our sleeplessness is to eliminate the excess caffeine racing around in our systems that previously had been metabolized by nicotine. Our intake must be reduced.
Buh-bye to my afternoon coffee, hello to a good night's sleep? Why the hell did it take me so long to connect those particular dots? No one warned me my brain would not function as well without nicotine.
Smoking is evil.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)