Saturday, September 30, 2006
Friday, September 29, 2006
The Friday Fie: Driving Edition
1. People who don't signal. As a driver, you have only two truly useful ways of communicating with other drivers: your horn and your turn signal. And yet, most people around here seem more willing to use their middle finger than their turn signal. It infuriates me. Case in point: There is a corner on my way to work where I need to turn left at an intersection, so I put my signal on and wait in the intersection for a gap in the oncoming traffic. Nearly every single day, someone will be coming towards me at a clip that would not allow me to turn in front of them, only to zip into the left-turn lane at the last minute without slowing or signaling. At this point, of course, the gap will be gone and someone else will be coming at me. It drives me batty!
2. Overcompensators. I hate it when I am driving along the highway, at a safe five miles or so over the speed limit, being passed by a good 50% of the other cars on the highway, when all of a sudden, traffic slows completely to five or ten miles below the speed limit. Inevitably, I look out my passenger side window shortly thereafter to see the flashing lights of a police car with someone pulled over. I just don't get it. Slow down, fine, but you don't have to drop below the speed limit. Cops do not take an average of your speeds over the past ten miles when they pull you over. In fact, you're wasting your effort by slowing down now, because in case you didn't notice, SHE'S ALREADY GOT SOMEONE PULLED OVER! If she was going to pull you over, it would have been five miles back, where you were still speeding and she was hiding with a radar gun behind that billboard.
3. Unrealistic speed limits. There is a beautifully resurfaced road near me with a speed limit of 25. I try, I really do. But it's so easy to go too fast on that road. There is also a highway near me that is, if I should believe the signs and cones rather than total absence of work being done, currently under construction. At one point, the speed limit drops from 65 to 55 to 45 all in the span of less than a mile. And it is neither practicable nor safe for me to follow that speed limit when the people behind me are still zipping by at 75.
4. People who run red lights when someone else is obviously sitting in the intersection waiting to turn left. Seriously, I don't care how much you normally press your luck with a yellow light, if there is someone sitting in the intersection already, they should have priority because when the light changes, they could DIE.
5. Gas prices. 'Nuff said.
2. Overcompensators. I hate it when I am driving along the highway, at a safe five miles or so over the speed limit, being passed by a good 50% of the other cars on the highway, when all of a sudden, traffic slows completely to five or ten miles below the speed limit. Inevitably, I look out my passenger side window shortly thereafter to see the flashing lights of a police car with someone pulled over. I just don't get it. Slow down, fine, but you don't have to drop below the speed limit. Cops do not take an average of your speeds over the past ten miles when they pull you over. In fact, you're wasting your effort by slowing down now, because in case you didn't notice, SHE'S ALREADY GOT SOMEONE PULLED OVER! If she was going to pull you over, it would have been five miles back, where you were still speeding and she was hiding with a radar gun behind that billboard.
3. Unrealistic speed limits. There is a beautifully resurfaced road near me with a speed limit of 25. I try, I really do. But it's so easy to go too fast on that road. There is also a highway near me that is, if I should believe the signs and cones rather than total absence of work being done, currently under construction. At one point, the speed limit drops from 65 to 55 to 45 all in the span of less than a mile. And it is neither practicable nor safe for me to follow that speed limit when the people behind me are still zipping by at 75.
4. People who run red lights when someone else is obviously sitting in the intersection waiting to turn left. Seriously, I don't care how much you normally press your luck with a yellow light, if there is someone sitting in the intersection already, they should have priority because when the light changes, they could DIE.
5. Gas prices. 'Nuff said.
Thursday, September 28, 2006
Shel Silverstein was my Father
When I was a kid, my dad used to listen to an extremely random collection of music. Ray Stevens and "Weird Al" Yankovic would sit right beside Elvis and the Beatles and Boney M, with some George Beverly Shea sandwiched uncomfortably in between. I suppose I inherited much of my eclectic taste in music from him.
One of his favourite albums to listen to on long car trips was a little white tape called "Kickin' Country". It had such classics on it as "Mama's Don't Let Your Babies Grow Up to be Cowboys". But my very favourite song on the tape had to be this one about a guy who rates women on a scale of one to ten, and then a woman turns around and gives him a rating that puts him in his place. It was catchy, witty, and really really funny. I had no idea who sings it, since it is a compilation album, but I borrowed the tape from my dad once so that I could make a copy of it, and I've been keeping an eye out for a CD copy of it in stores ever since.
Today, I wanted to quote that witty ratings song to a friend, so I went to Google to find the lyrics. I found them, but I wasn't sure I could believe what I had found. The song is called "Numbers" and it's written by Shel Silverstein! Yes, THAT Shel Silverstein. The guy who wrote "A Light in the Attic" and "The Giving Tree". But that's not all! Apparently, Shel Silverstein also wrote one of my other all-time favourite childhood songs, The Irish Rovers' biggest hit, "The Unicorn". And that's not all, either! He ALSO wrote the lyrics to several Dr. Hook songs, including "Cover of the Rolling Stone" and "Sylvia's Mother", which my brother and I always loved even if the rest of the world never seemed to get the subtle irony of its crooning. And, at the risk of sounding like a late-night infomercial, THAT'S STILL NOT ALL!!! He ALSO wrote the lyrics to Johnny Cash's "A Boy Named Sue".
It's like Shel Silverstein was quietly in the background of my entire life, secretly scripting all of the songs that would make me smile. It's like discovering that my whole sense of humour was crafted by one man, whom I never even got to meet. Shel Silverstein was the Cyrano de Bergerac in the bushes of my childhood musical amusement. The only way I could possibly be more blown away right now is if Shel Silverstein also wrote the theme song to Astro Boy. (Okay, I just checked. He didn't.)
One of his favourite albums to listen to on long car trips was a little white tape called "Kickin' Country". It had such classics on it as "Mama's Don't Let Your Babies Grow Up to be Cowboys". But my very favourite song on the tape had to be this one about a guy who rates women on a scale of one to ten, and then a woman turns around and gives him a rating that puts him in his place. It was catchy, witty, and really really funny. I had no idea who sings it, since it is a compilation album, but I borrowed the tape from my dad once so that I could make a copy of it, and I've been keeping an eye out for a CD copy of it in stores ever since.
Today, I wanted to quote that witty ratings song to a friend, so I went to Google to find the lyrics. I found them, but I wasn't sure I could believe what I had found. The song is called "Numbers" and it's written by Shel Silverstein! Yes, THAT Shel Silverstein. The guy who wrote "A Light in the Attic" and "The Giving Tree". But that's not all! Apparently, Shel Silverstein also wrote one of my other all-time favourite childhood songs, The Irish Rovers' biggest hit, "The Unicorn". And that's not all, either! He ALSO wrote the lyrics to several Dr. Hook songs, including "Cover of the Rolling Stone" and "Sylvia's Mother", which my brother and I always loved even if the rest of the world never seemed to get the subtle irony of its crooning. And, at the risk of sounding like a late-night infomercial, THAT'S STILL NOT ALL!!! He ALSO wrote the lyrics to Johnny Cash's "A Boy Named Sue".
It's like Shel Silverstein was quietly in the background of my entire life, secretly scripting all of the songs that would make me smile. It's like discovering that my whole sense of humour was crafted by one man, whom I never even got to meet. Shel Silverstein was the Cyrano de Bergerac in the bushes of my childhood musical amusement. The only way I could possibly be more blown away right now is if Shel Silverstein also wrote the theme song to Astro Boy. (Okay, I just checked. He didn't.)
Wednesday, September 27, 2006
A Panoply of Partial Posts
The moon tonight was big and low and crescenty and beautiful.
People were driving like maniacs tonight.
I bought my first-ever Victoria's Secret bra last week with a gift card. It gave me welts.
I discovered an Italian market the other day, minutes from my house and on the way home from work. They make delicious canolis. I was surprised that no one had mentioned this place to me before, and I went on to have this conversation, almost word for word, with every single member of Jeremy's family:
"Hey, did you know there is an Italian market that sells amazing canolis only a few minutes from here?"
"Really? Where?"
"At the corner of X, next to the gas station."
"Oh yeah, Sam's!"
I wonder what other treasures they don't know they are hiding from me?
I am watching the recap episode of Lost right now! Only one more week until the season premiere! Hoozah!
Yesterday, I had one of those afternoons that reminded me that life really isn't so bad; lying in a hammock in the backyard while my husband read to me, laughing together at the funny bits.
I've invented a brilliant new tool for teaching touch-typing. A keyboard with letters that rub off after they have been pressed a certain number of times. So, letters like 'E' and 'A' and 'N' will wear off first, which makes sense, because you should learn the common letters first, anyhow. Of course, I would probably have to give Toshiba some of the credit for my invention, because they unintentionally invented it first. Those exact letters are completely missing from my laptop keyboard.
People were driving like maniacs tonight.
I bought my first-ever Victoria's Secret bra last week with a gift card. It gave me welts.
I discovered an Italian market the other day, minutes from my house and on the way home from work. They make delicious canolis. I was surprised that no one had mentioned this place to me before, and I went on to have this conversation, almost word for word, with every single member of Jeremy's family:
"Hey, did you know there is an Italian market that sells amazing canolis only a few minutes from here?"
"Really? Where?"
"At the corner of X, next to the gas station."
"Oh yeah, Sam's!"
I wonder what other treasures they don't know they are hiding from me?
I am watching the recap episode of Lost right now! Only one more week until the season premiere! Hoozah!
Yesterday, I had one of those afternoons that reminded me that life really isn't so bad; lying in a hammock in the backyard while my husband read to me, laughing together at the funny bits.
I've invented a brilliant new tool for teaching touch-typing. A keyboard with letters that rub off after they have been pressed a certain number of times. So, letters like 'E' and 'A' and 'N' will wear off first, which makes sense, because you should learn the common letters first, anyhow. Of course, I would probably have to give Toshiba some of the credit for my invention, because they unintentionally invented it first. Those exact letters are completely missing from my laptop keyboard.
Tuesday, September 26, 2006
Autumnal Musings and New Year's Resolutions
I am not the first blogger to notice that the seasons have changed, and that fall is upon us. I would also not be the first blogger to mention that fall is my favourite season. But, I have come to the conclusion over the years that it is perfectly acceptable to be neither first nor best at everything.
So, have you noticed that the world is starting to smell like fall?
For as long as I can remember, fall has always stood for new beginnings in my life. Even before it meant back-to-school for me, it meant back-to-school for my older sister, and corresponding changes to my own little life. Fall always meant new clothes, clean notebooks that I hadn't messed up with doodles, full ballpoint pens, sharp pencils, and day planners that, this year, I would keep track of all my homework in, and never miss any assignments. I got excited about the new school year, because it was a fresh start, with a new teacher, and a chance to be the kind of student that I knew that I could be if I really buckled down. Then, as I finished each degree, I moved to a new place, a new school, a new city, and started on the next stage of my education. And this time, I promised myself, I wouldn't just coast by, I would really study hard, and I would be at the top of my class, instead of content to simply accept the comfortable place not-quite-at-the-top that came fairly easily to me.
I never understood why we celebrated New Year's in the winter. I would try to pretend that January was a fresh start, and I would make all kinds of resolutions that I knew, deep down, I wouldn't keep. But January was too late to really make any changes. I had already blown my chance at being the top of my classes, because I had gotten that B back in November. My notebooks had scribblings all over them, and even though I would be writing a new date when I got back from break, it was still the same class, the same school year, with the same classmates who already knew I was annoying.
If you're Jewish, fall is the time of year with the highest density of holidays, including Rosh Hashanah, which is the Jewish New Year. New Year's in the fall - I guess my idea isn't such a novel one after all. And while they're at it, they gave New Year's a meaning, too, it's the anniversary of the creation of the world. That's a pretty great thing to celebrate if you want a holiday for new beginnings, I'd say. And they top it all off with some good, clean, sin-confessing. A whole day of it, in fact.
We went to some Messianic Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur services back when we were living in Toronto, and we really enjoyed them. And we have made an effort every year to eat apples and honey (symbolizing the sweetness of the New Year) and to take a walk in nature somewhere (to remember God's creation). This year, I was at a wedding on Rosh Hashanah, and there were no more apples by the time I reached the chocolate fountain, but graham crackers dipped in liquid chocolate definitely fit the "sweet" requirement, even if they did fall a little bit short of the "natural" symbolism. As for symbolism, I can't imagine a better day to begin a new life together, though.
I guess what I'm trying to say is, Happy New Year. Or Unhappy New Year, as the case may seem to be. As much as fall has always represented new beginnings for me in the past, this year sure has been shaping up pretty unbeginningily so far. I really enjoyed the wedding this weekend, and it was wonderful to catch up with old friends, but it did become tiresome repeating the same uninspiring story over and over. It's so much easier to go to gatherings like that when you're excited about what you're doing in your life, rather than feeling like you're treading water until you can start living again.
I still have about a week until Yom Kippur. To confess my sins and make a fresh start. Maybe I need a new attitude more than new circumstances. Or maybe I should buy myself some new notebooks and pens and see where it takes me. This year, I will underline the titles on every page. In red. With a ruler.
So, have you noticed that the world is starting to smell like fall?
For as long as I can remember, fall has always stood for new beginnings in my life. Even before it meant back-to-school for me, it meant back-to-school for my older sister, and corresponding changes to my own little life. Fall always meant new clothes, clean notebooks that I hadn't messed up with doodles, full ballpoint pens, sharp pencils, and day planners that, this year, I would keep track of all my homework in, and never miss any assignments. I got excited about the new school year, because it was a fresh start, with a new teacher, and a chance to be the kind of student that I knew that I could be if I really buckled down. Then, as I finished each degree, I moved to a new place, a new school, a new city, and started on the next stage of my education. And this time, I promised myself, I wouldn't just coast by, I would really study hard, and I would be at the top of my class, instead of content to simply accept the comfortable place not-quite-at-the-top that came fairly easily to me.
I never understood why we celebrated New Year's in the winter. I would try to pretend that January was a fresh start, and I would make all kinds of resolutions that I knew, deep down, I wouldn't keep. But January was too late to really make any changes. I had already blown my chance at being the top of my classes, because I had gotten that B back in November. My notebooks had scribblings all over them, and even though I would be writing a new date when I got back from break, it was still the same class, the same school year, with the same classmates who already knew I was annoying.
If you're Jewish, fall is the time of year with the highest density of holidays, including Rosh Hashanah, which is the Jewish New Year. New Year's in the fall - I guess my idea isn't such a novel one after all. And while they're at it, they gave New Year's a meaning, too, it's the anniversary of the creation of the world. That's a pretty great thing to celebrate if you want a holiday for new beginnings, I'd say. And they top it all off with some good, clean, sin-confessing. A whole day of it, in fact.
We went to some Messianic Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur services back when we were living in Toronto, and we really enjoyed them. And we have made an effort every year to eat apples and honey (symbolizing the sweetness of the New Year) and to take a walk in nature somewhere (to remember God's creation). This year, I was at a wedding on Rosh Hashanah, and there were no more apples by the time I reached the chocolate fountain, but graham crackers dipped in liquid chocolate definitely fit the "sweet" requirement, even if they did fall a little bit short of the "natural" symbolism. As for symbolism, I can't imagine a better day to begin a new life together, though.
I guess what I'm trying to say is, Happy New Year. Or Unhappy New Year, as the case may seem to be. As much as fall has always represented new beginnings for me in the past, this year sure has been shaping up pretty unbeginningily so far. I really enjoyed the wedding this weekend, and it was wonderful to catch up with old friends, but it did become tiresome repeating the same uninspiring story over and over. It's so much easier to go to gatherings like that when you're excited about what you're doing in your life, rather than feeling like you're treading water until you can start living again.
I still have about a week until Yom Kippur. To confess my sins and make a fresh start. Maybe I need a new attitude more than new circumstances. Or maybe I should buy myself some new notebooks and pens and see where it takes me. This year, I will underline the titles on every page. In red. With a ruler.
Monday, September 25, 2006
On Shopping for a Wedding
Two of our good friends from college got married this weekend. So last week, I got to go shopping.
I started at Target, where the couple was registered, and bought them cleaning supplies. Boring, I know, but I scanned the registry, and it looked like the one section that no one had bought anything from, and there were several essential-looking things on there. I got the bucket and scrubber and dustpan they had registered for, then decided that the bucket made a convenient gift carrier, so I topped it up with some of my personal favourite cleaning products. And a thong. Because I could only be so boring.
Then I looked for dresses, and discovered that Target doesn't really have dresses. So I went to the mall.
Normally, I enjoy the occasional trip to the mall. But the mall near us really, really sucks. There is a video game store, so Jer can be kept happy for a while, but there is not a single clothing store there that carries anything I would wear. It's the ultimate suburban working woman's mall, and I am so far from their target clientele that they probably wish I wouldn't even shop there, because I might scare away the soccer moms. But, someone gave us mall gift cards for Christmas, and I really need to spend them sometime.
First off, as an aside, let me tell you that these mall gift cards are the worst gift cards ever created. First of all, the mall adds a surcharge onto them when you buy them, which is ridiculous, because they are making the obscenely high "people who forget to spend their gift cards" profit already. Second, they don't work at the detached mall stores that share the same parking lot where I actually shop, like Michael's and K-Mart and Ross. Third, when you try to use them at a store, the store has no way of checking the balance for you, you just have to know how much is still on them, or go to the mall when the customer service kiosk is open and get them to check the balance for you. And finally, if the amount of your purchase is higher than the amount remaining on the gift card, then it simply won't work. So as far as I can tell, the only way to spend the approximately $10 remaining on each of my gift cards is to find out the exact amounts by making a special trip to the mall kiosk, then shop around until I find two separate items that each cost, with tax, exactly the same amount that remains on one of the cards. Any more, and the cards won't work, any less, and there will eternally be a tiny, unspendable balance on the cards, that I probably wouldn't miss but I would rather it be anywhere else in the world other than in the pockets of the criminally greedy mall gift card people. </rant&rt;
I was looking for a pink dress. I don't own a lot of pink, and although there wasn't a dress code for the wedding, the bride had suggested that people wear pink if possible, since it is her favourite color. I thought that seemed like a neat idea, so I decided to try and oblige. If I was a smarter person, I would have started looking for a pink dress a couple of months ago, say, when it was summer and stores were still carrying pink clothes. But I am nothing if not a procrastinator, so no one can really be surprised that I found myself shopping for a dress three days before the wedding.
I walked in and out of at least half a dozen women's clothing stores before I even managed to find one pink dress. Once I did find a pink dress, which did, admittedly, look really nice on me, it was over $200 and a little on the formal side for a morning wedding with a gymnasium reception. I decided to pass on that one and keep looking. I struck out again in every women's clothing store in the mall, and finally decided to give some of the anchor stores a try.
Macy's made me the most hopeful of all of the stores, because the entrance I chose just happened to open into the juniors section, which carried the kind of dresses that soccer moms' rebellious teenage daughters like to wear to proms. I found several pink ones, priced in my hopeful range, and a few black ones with pink accents that I thought might work in a pinch. None of the pink ones looked even remotely good on me, and although I did fall in love with one of the black ones (one with dozens of layers of triangular gauzy skirts - I called it the "Good Witch Glinda" dress), I eventually set it aside based on my decision that one should not wear a strapless dress to a morning wedding, especially when one has very well-defined tan lines from ones only bathing suit.
Before giving up completely, I decided to make one, last-ditch stop at Sears. On my way to the women's wear section, I passed a clearance rack with a skirt that looked so much like it belonged it my closet that I couldn't help but notice it. I grabbed the skirt, promising myself it could be my $4 treat for all of my hard work shopping. I asked the helpful store clerk where the dresses were, and she told me Sears doesn't carry dresses anymore. I was a little surprised, and told her I wasn't looking for anything too fancy, but she insisted that they only have tops and skirts and one slinky black dress, which she pointed out to me. I asked if there might be any summer dresses on the clearance racks, and she shrugged. Thank you sooo much, helpful store clerk.
I spent about an hour digging through the clearance racks, and managed to dig up a couple pink skirts, several pink tops, and two pink dresses. I also managed to dig up a really funky pink suit jacket that I figured could be worn over a black dress to the wedding if none of the other options worked. I made my way back to the fitting rooms with my arms full, and a different store clerk told me not to worry about the fitting room limits, just bring back out whatever I didn't want. I found a few things I definitely wanted to buy, but the dresses didn't prove so simple. One of them was several sizes too big, but I figured I could take it in if necessary. The other one was a great colour, a comfortable shape, but it had a really busy pattern, and I genuinely could not make my mind up as to whether I liked it or not.
I asked a girl in the fitting room beside me, "What do you think, is this dress retro-cool, or someone's-grandmother?" She looked me up and down, and said, "Honestly, I think I would have to go with someone's-grandmother." I thanked her, and I fiddled with the belt a bit, and she said she liked it better tied a little higher, and I left just as undecided as I had been before. But, it was only $6, and I didn't fancy another trip back to the mall, so I bought the dress, as well as the pink suit jacket, and figured I could decide later.
After I got home, I modeled the dress for my mother-in-law, and she said she liked it, but somewhat hesitantly, so I still wasn't entirely sure whether I would wear it or not. But when I took it off, it turned inside out, and I noticed that the gauzy liner was sewn the right way to wear the dress with it on the outside. So, on a whim, I put the dress back on inside out, and asked the family members what they thought, and everyone agreed that, if I could get rid of the tags, it actually looked much nicer inside out.
So, I did some careful tag cutting, and strung some black beads, because I didn't really have any jewelry that would match it, and I threw the belt around my neck like a scarf. I think I can honestly say that this is the first time I have ever gone to a wedding wondering, "What if someone else is wearing the same dress as me? Right side out!"
I started at Target, where the couple was registered, and bought them cleaning supplies. Boring, I know, but I scanned the registry, and it looked like the one section that no one had bought anything from, and there were several essential-looking things on there. I got the bucket and scrubber and dustpan they had registered for, then decided that the bucket made a convenient gift carrier, so I topped it up with some of my personal favourite cleaning products. And a thong. Because I could only be so boring.
Then I looked for dresses, and discovered that Target doesn't really have dresses. So I went to the mall.
Normally, I enjoy the occasional trip to the mall. But the mall near us really, really sucks. There is a video game store, so Jer can be kept happy for a while, but there is not a single clothing store there that carries anything I would wear. It's the ultimate suburban working woman's mall, and I am so far from their target clientele that they probably wish I wouldn't even shop there, because I might scare away the soccer moms. But, someone gave us mall gift cards for Christmas, and I really need to spend them sometime.
First off, as an aside, let me tell you that these mall gift cards are the worst gift cards ever created. First of all, the mall adds a surcharge onto them when you buy them, which is ridiculous, because they are making the obscenely high "people who forget to spend their gift cards" profit already. Second, they don't work at the detached mall stores that share the same parking lot where I actually shop, like Michael's and K-Mart and Ross. Third, when you try to use them at a store, the store has no way of checking the balance for you, you just have to know how much is still on them, or go to the mall when the customer service kiosk is open and get them to check the balance for you. And finally, if the amount of your purchase is higher than the amount remaining on the gift card, then it simply won't work. So as far as I can tell, the only way to spend the approximately $10 remaining on each of my gift cards is to find out the exact amounts by making a special trip to the mall kiosk, then shop around until I find two separate items that each cost, with tax, exactly the same amount that remains on one of the cards. Any more, and the cards won't work, any less, and there will eternally be a tiny, unspendable balance on the cards, that I probably wouldn't miss but I would rather it be anywhere else in the world other than in the pockets of the criminally greedy mall gift card people. </rant&rt;
I was looking for a pink dress. I don't own a lot of pink, and although there wasn't a dress code for the wedding, the bride had suggested that people wear pink if possible, since it is her favourite color. I thought that seemed like a neat idea, so I decided to try and oblige. If I was a smarter person, I would have started looking for a pink dress a couple of months ago, say, when it was summer and stores were still carrying pink clothes. But I am nothing if not a procrastinator, so no one can really be surprised that I found myself shopping for a dress three days before the wedding.
I walked in and out of at least half a dozen women's clothing stores before I even managed to find one pink dress. Once I did find a pink dress, which did, admittedly, look really nice on me, it was over $200 and a little on the formal side for a morning wedding with a gymnasium reception. I decided to pass on that one and keep looking. I struck out again in every women's clothing store in the mall, and finally decided to give some of the anchor stores a try.
Macy's made me the most hopeful of all of the stores, because the entrance I chose just happened to open into the juniors section, which carried the kind of dresses that soccer moms' rebellious teenage daughters like to wear to proms. I found several pink ones, priced in my hopeful range, and a few black ones with pink accents that I thought might work in a pinch. None of the pink ones looked even remotely good on me, and although I did fall in love with one of the black ones (one with dozens of layers of triangular gauzy skirts - I called it the "Good Witch Glinda" dress), I eventually set it aside based on my decision that one should not wear a strapless dress to a morning wedding, especially when one has very well-defined tan lines from ones only bathing suit.
Before giving up completely, I decided to make one, last-ditch stop at Sears. On my way to the women's wear section, I passed a clearance rack with a skirt that looked so much like it belonged it my closet that I couldn't help but notice it. I grabbed the skirt, promising myself it could be my $4 treat for all of my hard work shopping. I asked the helpful store clerk where the dresses were, and she told me Sears doesn't carry dresses anymore. I was a little surprised, and told her I wasn't looking for anything too fancy, but she insisted that they only have tops and skirts and one slinky black dress, which she pointed out to me. I asked if there might be any summer dresses on the clearance racks, and she shrugged. Thank you sooo much, helpful store clerk.
I spent about an hour digging through the clearance racks, and managed to dig up a couple pink skirts, several pink tops, and two pink dresses. I also managed to dig up a really funky pink suit jacket that I figured could be worn over a black dress to the wedding if none of the other options worked. I made my way back to the fitting rooms with my arms full, and a different store clerk told me not to worry about the fitting room limits, just bring back out whatever I didn't want. I found a few things I definitely wanted to buy, but the dresses didn't prove so simple. One of them was several sizes too big, but I figured I could take it in if necessary. The other one was a great colour, a comfortable shape, but it had a really busy pattern, and I genuinely could not make my mind up as to whether I liked it or not.
I asked a girl in the fitting room beside me, "What do you think, is this dress retro-cool, or someone's-grandmother?" She looked me up and down, and said, "Honestly, I think I would have to go with someone's-grandmother." I thanked her, and I fiddled with the belt a bit, and she said she liked it better tied a little higher, and I left just as undecided as I had been before. But, it was only $6, and I didn't fancy another trip back to the mall, so I bought the dress, as well as the pink suit jacket, and figured I could decide later.
After I got home, I modeled the dress for my mother-in-law, and she said she liked it, but somewhat hesitantly, so I still wasn't entirely sure whether I would wear it or not. But when I took it off, it turned inside out, and I noticed that the gauzy liner was sewn the right way to wear the dress with it on the outside. So, on a whim, I put the dress back on inside out, and asked the family members what they thought, and everyone agreed that, if I could get rid of the tags, it actually looked much nicer inside out.
So, I did some careful tag cutting, and strung some black beads, because I didn't really have any jewelry that would match it, and I threw the belt around my neck like a scarf. I think I can honestly say that this is the first time I have ever gone to a wedding wondering, "What if someone else is wearing the same dress as me? Right side out!"
Monday, September 18, 2006
Two Shorts
I needed work clothes, so I threw in a load of darks. When the wash finished, I didn't have time for a full dryer cycle, so I threw one shirt, one apron, and one pair of pants in the dryer. I pulled them out just as I was heading out the door for work, and was disappointed to note that my apron didn't seem to have gotten very clean at all. I was halfway to work before I realized that perhaps the apron wasn't so clean because I forgot to add detergent to the wash cycle.
There was a recipe in the paper today for "Dutch Baby". I laughed, and pointed it out to my husband, who immediately quipped, "Take two Dutch people..."
There was a recipe in the paper today for "Dutch Baby". I laughed, and pointed it out to my husband, who immediately quipped, "Take two Dutch people..."
Wednesday, September 13, 2006
Excerpts from My Diary: Volume Two
July 26, 1989
Today was terrible. Danny pushed me in the lake twice, and he and Aaron and Tim found you (they didn't read you) and my brother told them that I liked Aaron. Aaron said that he would burn you if he got his hands on you so I was running for about 1/2 an hour and got really tired out. Later, when I was resting (well, sort of resting I was "RELAXING") I heard the dog barking. It didn't sound that bad to me so I just yelled to her to be quiet, because whenever I go to shut her up, I leave then she starts barking again. How could I know that she would brake the screen of the tent? Now I'm being blamed! Bye!
November 21, 1989
Dear Diary, I haven't written to you in a very long time because I was afraid someone would find something personal in you, so I just didn't write. But today, I had something so important happen that I just couldn't let it go. While we were crossing the street after my doctor's appointment, another car hit ours. It totally smashed in the passengers window. My mom is feeling terrible because it was her fault. She only saw a car about to hit her on the left, so she stopped and a car hit her from the right. Marecca, a girl that we babysit, was in the passenger seat, and if it weren't for a bar that goes through the door, both she and I would have been badly hurt. Luckily no one in my car was harmed, but an 80 year old lady in the other car hurt her leg. P.S. Please pray for my mom. She feels awful. Bye!
November 28, 1989
I'm in Adam's group for a radio show, and to record it I have to go over to his house. Audra and Taylor are going as well. I do not love him either. he's not even my friend. He's always telling dirty jokes. Today I had CLC, and I made a graham cracker house. I'm not allowed to eat it untill tomorrow because I need to take a picture of it whole to give to Barb. P.S. Taylor likes me, but he won't admit it. I don't like him either. ZZZZ
December 13, 1989
Dear Diary, are you bored of me writing "ZZZ" at the end of each entry? I am! Goodnight!
December 15, 1989
Dear Diary, tonight I'm at Angie's. I won't write anything private because she is listening to me mouthing this. As soon as I close you I won't fall asleep because I'm not tired. In that case I won't write ZZZZZ at the end of my entry. goodnight ZZZZZZ
P.S. I told you I wouldn't write ZZZZZ, I didn't I wrote ZZZZZZ. Goodnight!
Volume One
Today was terrible. Danny pushed me in the lake twice, and he and Aaron and Tim found you (they didn't read you) and my brother told them that I liked Aaron. Aaron said that he would burn you if he got his hands on you so I was running for about 1/2 an hour and got really tired out. Later, when I was resting (well, sort of resting I was "RELAXING") I heard the dog barking. It didn't sound that bad to me so I just yelled to her to be quiet, because whenever I go to shut her up, I leave then she starts barking again. How could I know that she would brake the screen of the tent? Now I'm being blamed! Bye!
November 21, 1989
Dear Diary, I haven't written to you in a very long time because I was afraid someone would find something personal in you, so I just didn't write. But today, I had something so important happen that I just couldn't let it go. While we were crossing the street after my doctor's appointment, another car hit ours. It totally smashed in the passengers window. My mom is feeling terrible because it was her fault. She only saw a car about to hit her on the left, so she stopped and a car hit her from the right. Marecca, a girl that we babysit, was in the passenger seat, and if it weren't for a bar that goes through the door, both she and I would have been badly hurt. Luckily no one in my car was harmed, but an 80 year old lady in the other car hurt her leg. P.S. Please pray for my mom. She feels awful. Bye!
November 28, 1989
I'm in Adam's group for a radio show, and to record it I have to go over to his house. Audra and Taylor are going as well. I do not love him either. he's not even my friend. He's always telling dirty jokes. Today I had CLC, and I made a graham cracker house. I'm not allowed to eat it untill tomorrow because I need to take a picture of it whole to give to Barb. P.S. Taylor likes me, but he won't admit it. I don't like him either. ZZZZ
December 13, 1989
Dear Diary, are you bored of me writing "ZZZ" at the end of each entry? I am! Goodnight!
December 15, 1989
Dear Diary, tonight I'm at Angie's. I won't write anything private because she is listening to me mouthing this. As soon as I close you I won't fall asleep because I'm not tired. In that case I won't write ZZZZZ at the end of my entry. goodnight ZZZZZZ
P.S. I told you I wouldn't write ZZZZZ, I didn't I wrote ZZZZZZ. Goodnight!
Volume One
Tuesday, September 12, 2006
A Two-Fer
I celebrated the fifth anniversary of 9/11 by refusing to live in fear.
I drove down to Washington D.C. to help a blogger friend move up to Princeton. We had a great time together, which she blogged about before I got home, so I will let you read what she wrote.
I put on a dress and went to Center City Philadelphia for Restaurant Week, where I had dinner with a friend at a fancy French restaurant, and ate incredible food, including the Best Crème Brulée Ever™.
I enjoyed my life today. That's my tribute.
Cause and Effect - A Bonus Post
Because I couldn't find my Scrabble letters, I went exploring in a closet I had ignored for a long time and found my reserve deck of blank white cards.
Because I had recently found my blank white cards, I played it last weekend when I had friends over.
Because my friends had loved the game so much, I posted the instructions for the game on my blog.
Because I had posted about a game, Scott tagged me for the word association game.
Because I wanted to tag Kate for the word association game, I went to my bloglines account to get her blog address and found out that her blog had somehow fallen off my blogroll when she upgraded to Blogger Beta (Boo!).
Because I was catching up on the entries I had missed on Kate's blog, I discovered that she needed help moving on the exact same day that I had off of work this week.
Because I was driving to Washington D.C. in the middle of the night, I discovered the Greatest Radio Station Ever™ somewhere around Baltimore.
Because I was listening to a unique and interesting radio station, I heard a fantastic new song that I had never heard before. It was a simple song with clever lyrics, a catchy tune, and artfully complicated vocals. I listened to the radio station for another 45 minutes until it was nothing but static, but they never back-announced the song, so I didn't find out who was singing it.
Because this new song was running through my head all day, I googled the lyrics that I could remember: "I wish I was a punk rocker with flowers in my hair." I quickly found the song, which is titled, fortunately, "I wish I was a punk rocker (with flowers in my hair)". The artist is Sandi Thom, and I before you read anymore of this post, go to her website and listen to the free, one-minute clip of the song, or watch the music video over on YouTube.
Because I was exploring the website of a cool new artist I had never heard of before, I went to her bio page to get an idea of who she is. There I discovered the most incredible story of an overnight success that was years in the making. You should read the whole story yourself, but basically, she got sick of touring and decided to offer 21 free webcam concerts out of her basement. 70 people tuned in for the first concert, but by the second week, her audience had grown to 70,000, including several record execs who had gotten wind of her talent. She ended up signing a recording contract, fittingly, live on her webcam.
And all for the want of a horseshoe nail...
I drove down to Washington D.C. to help a blogger friend move up to Princeton. We had a great time together, which she blogged about before I got home, so I will let you read what she wrote.
I put on a dress and went to Center City Philadelphia for Restaurant Week, where I had dinner with a friend at a fancy French restaurant, and ate incredible food, including the Best Crème Brulée Ever™.
I enjoyed my life today. That's my tribute.
Cause and Effect - A Bonus Post
Because I couldn't find my Scrabble letters, I went exploring in a closet I had ignored for a long time and found my reserve deck of blank white cards.
Because I had recently found my blank white cards, I played it last weekend when I had friends over.
Because my friends had loved the game so much, I posted the instructions for the game on my blog.
Because I had posted about a game, Scott tagged me for the word association game.
Because I wanted to tag Kate for the word association game, I went to my bloglines account to get her blog address and found out that her blog had somehow fallen off my blogroll when she upgraded to Blogger Beta (Boo!).
Because I was catching up on the entries I had missed on Kate's blog, I discovered that she needed help moving on the exact same day that I had off of work this week.
Because I was driving to Washington D.C. in the middle of the night, I discovered the Greatest Radio Station Ever™ somewhere around Baltimore.
Because I was listening to a unique and interesting radio station, I heard a fantastic new song that I had never heard before. It was a simple song with clever lyrics, a catchy tune, and artfully complicated vocals. I listened to the radio station for another 45 minutes until it was nothing but static, but they never back-announced the song, so I didn't find out who was singing it.
Because this new song was running through my head all day, I googled the lyrics that I could remember: "I wish I was a punk rocker with flowers in my hair." I quickly found the song, which is titled, fortunately, "I wish I was a punk rocker (with flowers in my hair)". The artist is Sandi Thom, and I before you read anymore of this post, go to her website and listen to the free, one-minute clip of the song, or watch the music video over on YouTube.
Because I was exploring the website of a cool new artist I had never heard of before, I went to her bio page to get an idea of who she is. There I discovered the most incredible story of an overnight success that was years in the making. You should read the whole story yourself, but basically, she got sick of touring and decided to offer 21 free webcam concerts out of her basement. 70 people tuned in for the first concert, but by the second week, her audience had grown to 70,000, including several record execs who had gotten wind of her talent. She ended up signing a recording contract, fittingly, live on her webcam.
And all for the want of a horseshoe nail...
Saturday, September 09, 2006
Prayer Vigil
My church is on the brink of closing.
It has been for years, I'm told.
Last winter, we lost heat, and we can't really spend another winter squeezed into a Sunday School room.
So, we pray.
And God provides, a little at a time, as our need is greatest.
Always enough.
Noon today will mark the end of a 24-hour prayer vigil at my church.
24 hours, 24 people, each praying for an hour apiece.
Not a bad feat for a congregation of only 40.
I signed up for three am, because I figured it would be the hardest slot to fill.
I forgot to bring my watch.
Of course, I knew that I didn't really need a watch; I just had to leave at four am when the next person showed up to relieve me.
But it was difficult not knowing if I had been kneeling for four or forty minutes.
And the dead silence of the massive sanctuary allowed the slightest noise to echo all around.
Like the ticking of that clock that I couldn't see.
(I'll confess, I went looking for it once, on a stretch break.
It had the wrong time.)
I prayed.
My mind wandered, and I prayed again.
I meditated for a while, but got lost in my thoughts, and went back to my prayer list.
I wondered how people do this for an hour every day, as I searched for more words to ask for the same things.
And I wished that I wasn't so afraid to break the silence, because it would be easier to concentrate out loud.
I sang a hymn.
Falteringly, quietly, unable to let my voice fill the room.
With no accompaniment to keep me on key.
I sat in silence.
I tried to quiet my mind, and be at peace.
Tried, but came nowhere close.
My mind is a busy, little place.
But I was out of words, and the only thing I had left to offer was my feeble attempt at silence.
Then the door opened, and the four o'clock relief arrived.
They had coffee and donuts, and were ready to start their day.
I went home to end mine.
It has been for years, I'm told.
Last winter, we lost heat, and we can't really spend another winter squeezed into a Sunday School room.
So, we pray.
And God provides, a little at a time, as our need is greatest.
Always enough.
Noon today will mark the end of a 24-hour prayer vigil at my church.
24 hours, 24 people, each praying for an hour apiece.
Not a bad feat for a congregation of only 40.
I signed up for three am, because I figured it would be the hardest slot to fill.
I forgot to bring my watch.
Of course, I knew that I didn't really need a watch; I just had to leave at four am when the next person showed up to relieve me.
But it was difficult not knowing if I had been kneeling for four or forty minutes.
And the dead silence of the massive sanctuary allowed the slightest noise to echo all around.
Like the ticking of that clock that I couldn't see.
(I'll confess, I went looking for it once, on a stretch break.
It had the wrong time.)
I prayed.
My mind wandered, and I prayed again.
I meditated for a while, but got lost in my thoughts, and went back to my prayer list.
I wondered how people do this for an hour every day, as I searched for more words to ask for the same things.
And I wished that I wasn't so afraid to break the silence, because it would be easier to concentrate out loud.
I sang a hymn.
Falteringly, quietly, unable to let my voice fill the room.
With no accompaniment to keep me on key.
I sat in silence.
I tried to quiet my mind, and be at peace.
Tried, but came nowhere close.
My mind is a busy, little place.
But I was out of words, and the only thing I had left to offer was my feeble attempt at silence.
Then the door opened, and the four o'clock relief arrived.
They had coffee and donuts, and were ready to start their day.
I went home to end mine.
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