We lost Harlow five months ago and the quiet that she left behind has been unbearable. Even with two cats, it was too quiet. Too empty of empathy and interest because unless one had food or a bottle of water, the cats didn't really care. They loved on their terms. They didn't love for love's sake. We needed a dog.
There were many conversations about what and when and how. We had decided on a little dog, one that could be bathed in the sink. We wanted someone that didn't shed as much as Barron and Harlow did. We wanted someone that could go swimming, on car rides, in purses. And when I say we, I mean, he. Danny wanted someone small and more manageable. I wanted Irish wolfhounds or Scottish deerhounds. I knew that the big dog days were over and rightly so. Our lives are different now and we need someone a little more portable.
Norwich terrier, corgies, brittneys.
Too expensive, too thick of coats, too big for our sink.
And all the while I had been praying to St. Francis to bring a dog to Danny. I didn't want to choose. I just wanted one that needed us to come to us. Last Monday the prayer came true. There was a dog, just a year old that fit all of our ideals. She was orphaned, polite, trained, small, friendly, cute. It was ideal and I fell in love with her before she was ours. There was a wait period and during that time, someone with claim to her decided (and rightly so) that they wanted to have her with them. She went home last Friday with people that already knew her and loved her. They also took her kitty friend, which we would not have done, so the family was complete. But I was so angry about it. Not angry that she was going to someone else, but angry that all the things I had prayed for were presented to me and then pulled away. For as much as I like Jesus, I don't know if I will ever figure out His dad.
So, if you know me, you know that I plummeted into a dark, sad place and said really mean things to God and He probably just rolled His eyes and went back to work. He wasn't going to bring me a dog. That's why I have Danny.
Fast forward to today. I have no idea how it started, the talk of dogs. I think Danny was telling me about the happy reunion that was had. And then we started talking breeds. Danny said that he had always wanted a miniature schnauzer. Smartphones were fired up, images were loaded and someone did a breeder search of Iowa. Someone suggested that Danny call the one with available puppies. Someone suggested that he call back and arrange an adoption.
And between the time it takes to finish a dinner and load a dishwasher, we had a adopted a puppy and given her a ridiculous name.
So tomorrow, Danny, Hayley and Jacob are hitting the bank at 8am to with drawl the necessary cash and are then driving south east for 2.5 hours to pick up Hattie Megatron White.
Smaller than Harlow's muzzle. I cannot even grasp her tininess. She will weigh less than our kitties. We shopped for extra small collars and sweaters. Her bag of top of the line puppy food was half the price of Harlow and Barron's Costco food. When it is time for heart worm pills, she will take half of the smallest pill. Harlow had two of the largest. Hattie will fit in my purse, the one with the photo of Barron and Harlow on it.
Monday, December 22, 2014
Saturday, December 6, 2014
My Retail Rant
I get it. You have a limited amount of time to do an unlimited amount of holiday things. And to add to the pressure is all the magazine and pinterest perfection that either makes you aspire to do better or slump down in your own inadequacies. I am right there with you so don't take it out on me. Retail is an ever changing world and those that work in it are trying to keep pace with it as much as those that shop in it. We cannot know everything. When the clock strikes four, I am no longer working and will not go home and research online or visit coupon websites or even give my job and a second thought until 8:15 the next day.
"The Internet said you had it."
The Internet is never wrong so we must have it. Did you actually go into the store site and did it say available in stores and when you clicked on that, did it list this store? If you answered yes to all three of these questions then I am on it. I will find this item for you. I will search other stores, I will do whatever it takes to make that right. But if you answered no to any of the questions then don't blame me. The Internet says we have a lot of things we don't. Or you may think the Internet says we have it when actually its just the store getting its logo at the top of the sponsored list. I don't know how that works. I am a cashier, though I know how to navigate the Internet at a decent rate, I am not savvy to the inner workings of it.
On the same note as the Internet said you had it - my doctor said you had it is also not a viable inventory tool. At least once a week a customer comes in using those exact words. THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS BABY ASPIRIN ANYMORE!!! In the past 14 years there has been a huge push to stop referring to 81mg aspirin as baby aspirin because it is not used for babies. Rye syndrome and all that. It is now 81mg aspirin. It frightens me that so many people come in and say that "my doctor told me I should take a baby aspirin a day." Maybe you need a better educated doctor.
"I got it here last year" "I always get it here" "You used to carry it"
Daily, I here one of those daily. I have been with the company 14 years and a lot has changed in the Christmas aisle alone. And a lot will continue to change as companies aquire other companies and new ideas move into the board room. There are people getting paid much more than me to buy crap from China for you to buy for this wonderful Christan holiday. I put it on the shelf, ring it up and put it in a bag. That is my relationship with most of what we sell. I know that it is frustrating to depend on a store for your holiday stationary, manicure sets, gallon bottle of Charlie, and be very frustrated when it is no longer available. But trends change and if an item is sold almost exclusively on clearance after the holiday, it probably won't be ordered in again. And when it comes to perfume gift sets, if you are only buying one $10 set of the cologne you wore in high school in 1967, you have to accept the fact that this is no longer a hot selling item and it is not profitable to the company to make many of it anymore. Heaven Sent just might not be available anymore. Deep breath and move on.
Oh, back to the Internet and colognes- yes, it may be available online. There are thousands of colognes that can be ordered for you but you must pay in advance because I am not going to have dozens of random bottles laying about, sorry those are the rules. And if I were to carry all these in store, well, this store would be a warehouse and you wouldn't shop here because it would be too big and overwhelming. Ordering it for you is the best I can do.
"Where are your gift cards?"
Gift cards, Visa cards, Green Dot and Phone cards. These are without a doubt the biggest pain in the ass. They are nothing but a scam attractor. A few days ago, a concerned morning news watcher wanted to know why we didn't keep our gift cards behind the counter. Thieves come in, take photos of the backs of gift cards and then wait. They are betting that someone will buy that card and not use it right away but hold it until Christmas, so between now and Christmas, the thieve is punching in those numbers hoping, hoping, hoping. It is a brilliant scheme and must work enough to make it worth doing and reporting on. I don't have the solution other than buy your gift cards from the middle of the rack, wait until Christmas Eve to buy them, give cash. Again, cashier, not my call.
Oh, but waiting to buy your cards on Christmas Eve along with the rest of America will probably cause the system to crash. Again, cashier here. I am not responsible for any of that and in no way can do anything to make the register, gift card activation center, hamsters on the wheel, run faster!
And while I am on the gift card bitch box, let me continue. There is a policy in place that is based on a federal law (the patriot money laundering act starring Harrison Ford, I think) that says you cannot buy more than $500 in any single type gift card per day. Not per cashier, not per store. YOU CANNOT BUY. Now obviously, I don't know if you are going from store to store, but I do know that you have brought me 15 $100 Visa Vanilla cards and I am going to explain to you that Federal law prohibits you from buying more than $500 and I will not sell more than $500.
The conversation will go along one of these lines.
Customer "I just bought 15 of these at your store in (pick location) last night without a problem."
Me "I am prohibited by federal law and there is nothing I will do (I say will instead of can because I am not fucking with federal law)."
Customer "Oh that is so stupid" "But we give them as Christmas presents" "I'll just go to another store""I have to pay a bill, a prince in Nigeria, the IRS is going to arrest me, I am trying to launder money" (OK they never say the last one, but somewhere, someone is thinking that.)
Me "The law is in place to try and prevent money laundering and fraud which can be used to support terrorist activities. If you always buy gift cards at Christmas, there is a corporate plan you can use (look a solution that they don't want to use).
Customer "Do I look like a terrorist?"
Me (in my head) "Well, you do look like you may have some Irish decent in you or English or your resemble Timothy McVay or did Jesus look like a terrorist or you don't, but your teenage son looks like he is looking for some adventure and may hop a boat to Syria, or have any of your relatives thrown tea in a harbor" (Out loud) "I won't knowingly break federal law."
And folks, when you have a man in your store that does not look like he belongs and he has a roll of hundreds and is wanting to buy several Green Dot cards and you have to explain federal law to him when you clearly know that he knows federal prison, you will see why I hate the whole damn department.
Oh, and to the lady that was trying to buy 15 cards at $100 a piece with a $5.95 activation fee, I understand that an employee inadvertently threw away a $100 bill one year and you had to give him another $100 and you feel that these cards are somehow safer. You said you had 35 employees. You will spend @208.25 in fees, you will have to spread your purchases out (legally) over 70 days, and the only one making any real money on this purchase in Visa in activation and use fees.
Lastly, don't be a ass to the cashier. Many cashiers are high school kids with worries of their own. While you waited until the last minute to buy your gift cards, he or she has waited until the last minute to do their paper or study for finals. They are missing the game, the dance, the night date because they need to save for college so they can take care of you in your old age (I hope they remember that you were an ass). Be patient when they aren't sure how to handle your transaction. These cashiers have policies to follow regarding your transaction especially if it involves anything requiring an ID. And yes, some cold medicines and diet pills require an ID. I get that you are fat and sick but I still can't sell it to you without an ID if you appear to be under age. Oh, and if you come storming over to me and say anything like "I buy my cigarettes here all the time and I don't have my ID and she (angry point) won't sell them to me" neither will I. Don't ever think I will bend any rule for you if you can't follow the rules that will get us fined and fired.
Again, there are laws in place that prevent you from buying too many of one kind of cold medicine because someone, somewhere (a lot of someones in a lot of somewheres) drank too much of it and got in a wreck, suffered brain damage, died and because some cannot have enough sense, the law is going to have sense for all of us. I am a cashier, I did not write the law, I did not vote on the law, I am only required to enforce the law. Just deal with it, write an angry letter, go away.
I know that in the midst of your holiday shopping you will encounter some very terrible cashiers, clerks, wait staff, managers. I will, too. A lot of them are under paid, most stores are under staffed, and a decent handful are under trained. If you get that service from me, I am going to say that you probably started it. You failed to treat me decently, you barked at the other cashier, you immediately started in on the long line, the poor selection or best of all, you didn't get off your phone. You bitched about all the questions on the pinpad (there are three questions, all in place for your protection). If you use a creit card there are less questions, if you write a check, there are more steps, if you pay in real cash, there are zero questions and zero risks of fraud. But on the other hand, if you are stressed and you smile, I will be fast and friendly. I will do all that I can to make this transaction stand out in your mind as the one that pulled you back from the edge. I will look in my box of coupons, I will suggest a better deal, I will share with you that I saw what you were after at Target or the Dollar Store or Beauty.com. I will stand in the aisle with you for 15 minutes while you share with me the story of your adult daughter, dieing of a brain tumor. I will listen while you tell me about her beautiful hair, her bright eyes and warm smile. I will cry with you because, after all, the rolls could be reversed and I hope that someone would be there for me in the hair care aisle.
You may be wished a Merry Christmas or a Happy Holidays or not wished anything but a nice day. Why take offense? I will wish you whatever I like. Personally, Happy Holidays is my favorite. Not because I don't want to offend you if you are a Jew, Muslim or Druid but because I want you to have a happy time from right now until you wrap it all up. Whatever that may be. I will wish some a Merry Christmas, I will internally wish some a finger in the eye. And if you are offended that I didn't wish you what you wanted to be wished, that on you. I try to change up what I am saying so I still sound sincere and not robotic. Lighten up, putting the Christ in Christmas should mean a little less judgement!
So there you have it. I just ask, for the good of all human kind to be a little kinder to everyone. You will still have jerks, buttheads, idiots but don't sink to their level. Be polite, be patient, be the person your dog thinks you already are. And if your dog thinks you're an asshole, you most definately are.
Happy Christmas and be well.
"The Internet said you had it."
The Internet is never wrong so we must have it. Did you actually go into the store site and did it say available in stores and when you clicked on that, did it list this store? If you answered yes to all three of these questions then I am on it. I will find this item for you. I will search other stores, I will do whatever it takes to make that right. But if you answered no to any of the questions then don't blame me. The Internet says we have a lot of things we don't. Or you may think the Internet says we have it when actually its just the store getting its logo at the top of the sponsored list. I don't know how that works. I am a cashier, though I know how to navigate the Internet at a decent rate, I am not savvy to the inner workings of it.
On the same note as the Internet said you had it - my doctor said you had it is also not a viable inventory tool. At least once a week a customer comes in using those exact words. THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS BABY ASPIRIN ANYMORE!!! In the past 14 years there has been a huge push to stop referring to 81mg aspirin as baby aspirin because it is not used for babies. Rye syndrome and all that. It is now 81mg aspirin. It frightens me that so many people come in and say that "my doctor told me I should take a baby aspirin a day." Maybe you need a better educated doctor.
"I got it here last year" "I always get it here" "You used to carry it"
Daily, I here one of those daily. I have been with the company 14 years and a lot has changed in the Christmas aisle alone. And a lot will continue to change as companies aquire other companies and new ideas move into the board room. There are people getting paid much more than me to buy crap from China for you to buy for this wonderful Christan holiday. I put it on the shelf, ring it up and put it in a bag. That is my relationship with most of what we sell. I know that it is frustrating to depend on a store for your holiday stationary, manicure sets, gallon bottle of Charlie, and be very frustrated when it is no longer available. But trends change and if an item is sold almost exclusively on clearance after the holiday, it probably won't be ordered in again. And when it comes to perfume gift sets, if you are only buying one $10 set of the cologne you wore in high school in 1967, you have to accept the fact that this is no longer a hot selling item and it is not profitable to the company to make many of it anymore. Heaven Sent just might not be available anymore. Deep breath and move on.
Oh, back to the Internet and colognes- yes, it may be available online. There are thousands of colognes that can be ordered for you but you must pay in advance because I am not going to have dozens of random bottles laying about, sorry those are the rules. And if I were to carry all these in store, well, this store would be a warehouse and you wouldn't shop here because it would be too big and overwhelming. Ordering it for you is the best I can do.
"Where are your gift cards?"
Gift cards, Visa cards, Green Dot and Phone cards. These are without a doubt the biggest pain in the ass. They are nothing but a scam attractor. A few days ago, a concerned morning news watcher wanted to know why we didn't keep our gift cards behind the counter. Thieves come in, take photos of the backs of gift cards and then wait. They are betting that someone will buy that card and not use it right away but hold it until Christmas, so between now and Christmas, the thieve is punching in those numbers hoping, hoping, hoping. It is a brilliant scheme and must work enough to make it worth doing and reporting on. I don't have the solution other than buy your gift cards from the middle of the rack, wait until Christmas Eve to buy them, give cash. Again, cashier, not my call.
Oh, but waiting to buy your cards on Christmas Eve along with the rest of America will probably cause the system to crash. Again, cashier here. I am not responsible for any of that and in no way can do anything to make the register, gift card activation center, hamsters on the wheel, run faster!
And while I am on the gift card bitch box, let me continue. There is a policy in place that is based on a federal law (the patriot money laundering act starring Harrison Ford, I think) that says you cannot buy more than $500 in any single type gift card per day. Not per cashier, not per store. YOU CANNOT BUY. Now obviously, I don't know if you are going from store to store, but I do know that you have brought me 15 $100 Visa Vanilla cards and I am going to explain to you that Federal law prohibits you from buying more than $500 and I will not sell more than $500.
The conversation will go along one of these lines.
Customer "I just bought 15 of these at your store in (pick location) last night without a problem."
Me "I am prohibited by federal law and there is nothing I will do (I say will instead of can because I am not fucking with federal law)."
Customer "Oh that is so stupid" "But we give them as Christmas presents" "I'll just go to another store""I have to pay a bill, a prince in Nigeria, the IRS is going to arrest me, I am trying to launder money" (OK they never say the last one, but somewhere, someone is thinking that.)
Me "The law is in place to try and prevent money laundering and fraud which can be used to support terrorist activities. If you always buy gift cards at Christmas, there is a corporate plan you can use (look a solution that they don't want to use).
Customer "Do I look like a terrorist?"
Me (in my head) "Well, you do look like you may have some Irish decent in you or English or your resemble Timothy McVay or did Jesus look like a terrorist or you don't, but your teenage son looks like he is looking for some adventure and may hop a boat to Syria, or have any of your relatives thrown tea in a harbor" (Out loud) "I won't knowingly break federal law."
And folks, when you have a man in your store that does not look like he belongs and he has a roll of hundreds and is wanting to buy several Green Dot cards and you have to explain federal law to him when you clearly know that he knows federal prison, you will see why I hate the whole damn department.
Oh, and to the lady that was trying to buy 15 cards at $100 a piece with a $5.95 activation fee, I understand that an employee inadvertently threw away a $100 bill one year and you had to give him another $100 and you feel that these cards are somehow safer. You said you had 35 employees. You will spend @208.25 in fees, you will have to spread your purchases out (legally) over 70 days, and the only one making any real money on this purchase in Visa in activation and use fees.
Lastly, don't be a ass to the cashier. Many cashiers are high school kids with worries of their own. While you waited until the last minute to buy your gift cards, he or she has waited until the last minute to do their paper or study for finals. They are missing the game, the dance, the night date because they need to save for college so they can take care of you in your old age (I hope they remember that you were an ass). Be patient when they aren't sure how to handle your transaction. These cashiers have policies to follow regarding your transaction especially if it involves anything requiring an ID. And yes, some cold medicines and diet pills require an ID. I get that you are fat and sick but I still can't sell it to you without an ID if you appear to be under age. Oh, and if you come storming over to me and say anything like "I buy my cigarettes here all the time and I don't have my ID and she (angry point) won't sell them to me" neither will I. Don't ever think I will bend any rule for you if you can't follow the rules that will get us fined and fired.
Again, there are laws in place that prevent you from buying too many of one kind of cold medicine because someone, somewhere (a lot of someones in a lot of somewheres) drank too much of it and got in a wreck, suffered brain damage, died and because some cannot have enough sense, the law is going to have sense for all of us. I am a cashier, I did not write the law, I did not vote on the law, I am only required to enforce the law. Just deal with it, write an angry letter, go away.
I know that in the midst of your holiday shopping you will encounter some very terrible cashiers, clerks, wait staff, managers. I will, too. A lot of them are under paid, most stores are under staffed, and a decent handful are under trained. If you get that service from me, I am going to say that you probably started it. You failed to treat me decently, you barked at the other cashier, you immediately started in on the long line, the poor selection or best of all, you didn't get off your phone. You bitched about all the questions on the pinpad (there are three questions, all in place for your protection). If you use a creit card there are less questions, if you write a check, there are more steps, if you pay in real cash, there are zero questions and zero risks of fraud. But on the other hand, if you are stressed and you smile, I will be fast and friendly. I will do all that I can to make this transaction stand out in your mind as the one that pulled you back from the edge. I will look in my box of coupons, I will suggest a better deal, I will share with you that I saw what you were after at Target or the Dollar Store or Beauty.com. I will stand in the aisle with you for 15 minutes while you share with me the story of your adult daughter, dieing of a brain tumor. I will listen while you tell me about her beautiful hair, her bright eyes and warm smile. I will cry with you because, after all, the rolls could be reversed and I hope that someone would be there for me in the hair care aisle.
You may be wished a Merry Christmas or a Happy Holidays or not wished anything but a nice day. Why take offense? I will wish you whatever I like. Personally, Happy Holidays is my favorite. Not because I don't want to offend you if you are a Jew, Muslim or Druid but because I want you to have a happy time from right now until you wrap it all up. Whatever that may be. I will wish some a Merry Christmas, I will internally wish some a finger in the eye. And if you are offended that I didn't wish you what you wanted to be wished, that on you. I try to change up what I am saying so I still sound sincere and not robotic. Lighten up, putting the Christ in Christmas should mean a little less judgement!
So there you have it. I just ask, for the good of all human kind to be a little kinder to everyone. You will still have jerks, buttheads, idiots but don't sink to their level. Be polite, be patient, be the person your dog thinks you already are. And if your dog thinks you're an asshole, you most definately are.
Happy Christmas and be well.
Sunday, November 16, 2014
Back to Mass
What? Another blog about my quest for religion/faith/spiritual guidance. It seems to me that I should be past this, but I am still wandering around, kind of like Jack Skellington during Jack's Lament. There doesn't seem to be a clearing in the woods with holiday doors. I cannot open them with an inquisitive "What's This"? I have to figure this out on my own/with the help of others/divine intervention.
I went back to mass today. I went for two reasons.
1. I had asked my church friends to pray for someone very dear to me and if they are willing to do that for me, than I need to do it as well. I know that I can (and am) praying without going to mass, but if I am asking my church community to do it then I should be part of that community as well.
2. I am still looking for the place for me.
I went to mass early to quiet my mind. It didn't work. I can't calm my mind. The conversation I have with God is silly. I tell Him things he obviously already knows. What's worse is that I sometimes thing I am telling Him what He wants to hear.
I had hoped during mass that I would have that a-ha moment. Or that I would get the shivers. Or I would feel the presence of God like Judah Ben-Hur did. But, it be honest, there was nothing monumental happening. And then it occurred to me that maybe that's how it needs to be for me. Maybe, just maybe, God is tired of laying it out for me and it is now up to me to find what it is I am looking for.
It will be 45 years next Sunday that I have been Catholic and though I don't know if that is where I belong, I do know that I am not brave enough to look elsewhere. I have come to accept that I am never going to be the Catholic or Christian that I ought to be. I will not agree with all the teachings of the one or the other. I will continue to be judgemental and mean and selfish. I will continue to support the right to choose abortion and euthanasia. I will continue to believe in gay marriage (which is just marriage). I will continue to feel strongly that much of the bible is a fable written to teach lessons. I will deny that the God of love that I have known all my life was once a jealous, vengeful God that promoted the annihilation of entire kingdoms, men, women, children and horses.
I may wander forever looking for my answers and that seems pretty pathetic. I am sure that God is rolling his eyes, yet once again. This has to be old.
But, I have forty five more years to get this faith thing right. I have forty five more years of trying to be kind and generous. I have forty five more years of building a relationship with my church community.
I went back to mass today. I went for two reasons.
1. I had asked my church friends to pray for someone very dear to me and if they are willing to do that for me, than I need to do it as well. I know that I can (and am) praying without going to mass, but if I am asking my church community to do it then I should be part of that community as well.
2. I am still looking for the place for me.
I went to mass early to quiet my mind. It didn't work. I can't calm my mind. The conversation I have with God is silly. I tell Him things he obviously already knows. What's worse is that I sometimes thing I am telling Him what He wants to hear.
I had hoped during mass that I would have that a-ha moment. Or that I would get the shivers. Or I would feel the presence of God like Judah Ben-Hur did. But, it be honest, there was nothing monumental happening. And then it occurred to me that maybe that's how it needs to be for me. Maybe, just maybe, God is tired of laying it out for me and it is now up to me to find what it is I am looking for.
It will be 45 years next Sunday that I have been Catholic and though I don't know if that is where I belong, I do know that I am not brave enough to look elsewhere. I have come to accept that I am never going to be the Catholic or Christian that I ought to be. I will not agree with all the teachings of the one or the other. I will continue to be judgemental and mean and selfish. I will continue to support the right to choose abortion and euthanasia. I will continue to believe in gay marriage (which is just marriage). I will continue to feel strongly that much of the bible is a fable written to teach lessons. I will deny that the God of love that I have known all my life was once a jealous, vengeful God that promoted the annihilation of entire kingdoms, men, women, children and horses.
I may wander forever looking for my answers and that seems pretty pathetic. I am sure that God is rolling his eyes, yet once again. This has to be old.
But, I have forty five more years to get this faith thing right. I have forty five more years of trying to be kind and generous. I have forty five more years of building a relationship with my church community.
Friday, November 14, 2014
Birthday Week Extravaganza Part 2
I left off in San Antonio.
After the penguins, my God what could there be after the penguins?
Austin. We booked a room at the ridiculously silly Brown Bed and Ball Throwing Inn. It was a treat to be able to spend some quality time with my cousin Jake and his ever so lovely wife, Amy and the daughters, Sara and Emma. Sara, I don't know if you had heard, was in an car accident a few days prior and the pain of it all had finally caught up to her. She was pretty miserable with back issues. Emma, on the other hand, was her usual witty self. We were also delighted with Gucci and her ball dropping, dog staring until the ball is thrown antics. Fred the cat didn't do much but sit behind the curtain ala Alfred Hitchcock and occasionally come out to be loved.
Jake and Amy gave us an amazing tour of Austin and by amazing, I mean that Jake would get on the wrong street and Amy would randomly point stuff of interest. It was very entertaining.
We ate at three Austin-ing places and I can't remember the names. A little Mexican place that had great not name brand soda. We ate at P. Telly's. Does that sound right? And we ate at an Austin Brewhouse. That might be what it was called. The best meal out was the one we shared at my cousin, Mary's house. Mary and her husband, Dick are Jake's parents. We also met Micheal, Jake's son. Mary is my first cousin. The Snow family tree grows oddly.
I don't think I have ever spent any quality time with my cousin Mary. The age difference between us made me just a lass when she and her husband moved from Crapids. From our conversation that evening, I learned more about my dad, his mom and my own siblings as children. Mary spilled a bottle of wine. Mary and Dick drank two bottles of wine. It was a fantastic evening.
Saturday, Danny and I went into Austin on our own. We parked the car and walked around the downtown area. We scoped out the bridge for the bats later on. We looked at Formula One cars, and Monster Girls and lots and lots of dogs. We had anticipated a lot more shopping. That was a disappointment. What was not a disappointment was the very fancy cars we saw. A Ferrari, a Bentley and something so damn fancy we couldn't name it. We also saw a lot of Formula One fancy Europeans. You know what I mean by Formula One fancy- their leather shoes are made from grass fed cows that never walked in their own poop. Their white shirts are so white they are blue. Their hair grays in the precise manner that is required of it to make them look distinguished, not old. At first I thought I wasn't Formula One Fancy, but then I decided I was. The alternative is Nascar Fancy and I am certainly not that Fancy!
Danny, being the great guy that he is, stood on the Ann Richards/Congress Bridge with me for an hour and a half because I wanted to see the bats. Danny wanted to see them, too, but I don't know if he would have stood there an hour and a half. The sun set and the bats did not come. We had walked under the bridge earlier in the day and heard a lot of chatter, but when it was time for them to leave, we saw seven fly out. Seven little bats. That was a bit of a let down, but bats migrate- who knew.
Duran Duran. The whole point of this BWE! They did not disappoint.
I have been a fan since 1983. Seventh grade when all my money was sunk into Teen Beat and Tiger Beat magazine. Quality television was Night Trax when they showed a Duran Duran video ( or any video from like minded artists). Duran Duran. John Taylor, mostly, but Duran Duran. Not ever in all my days did I think I would see them live. They never came to Iowa that I was aware of, I wasn't going to be traveling to other states. I got married, John missed his chance. They weren't touring but were collaborating with other artists. I forgot my roots and listened to country. I found my roots again but was too knee deep in little people to afford a concert. And then Danny and I reached that magical age (you know what I am talking about Lisa Moore) when the bands we loved started touring again and we could afford to see them. But still Duran Duran was never even imagined. And my husband got tickets. He is one crafty son of a bitch.
So there I am with the man that replaced John Taylor in my heart of hearts, and believe me, best choice I ever made. We are seven or so rows up from the balcony. Duran Duran is straight ahead of us. They look good and sound, well the smell like they sound. And if that statement is true (and I think it is) they smell fantastic. Considering what the 80s did to so many of their peers, Duran Duran have cleaned up their act and are putting on a great show. There was no mistaking that they were having a great time on stage and the audience completely responded. I had forgotten that I still knew all the words. I knew when to du du du duuuu.
Danny told me later that I do this thing when I am really excited or happy. And it must be completely involuntary as I didn't even realize, but I put my hands up to my lips like a First Communion candidate from the '60s. He said I was doing that a lot. I didn't cry, but I had the shivers when they first took the stage. What an amazing gift he gave me that night. Not the tickets or the trip, but the chance. I am blessed beyond measure, I truly am.
So how does one follow Duran Duran? Well, lets go back six more years to my earliest football memories. What do I find there, none other than the Dallas Cowboys. Coincidentally those Boys just happen to be my husband's favorite as well. Ashlyn and Hayley bought us tickets for our birthdays. Pulling up to Jerry's House was just funny. It is ginormous. And everywhere we looked were other Dallas fans. That was so unusual and so comforting. Everything about the stadium is over the top. But it is impressive and someday (soon) the team will be impressive again as well.
We all know what happened on the field and it wasn't pretty. And as much as a win would have been perfect, it wasn't necessary because everything else was perfect.
We toured the stadium a couple of days later and were able to go down on the field. I made Cowboys angels in the end zone. I picked bits of turf out of the star. I watched Danny walk around his Graceland. My Graceland too. Granted, there isn't the history that Texas Stadium held. It is no Lambeau Field or Soldier Field in terms of longevity but it is fucking awesome and that is good enough for me. Danny had been carrying around a hundred dollar bill since September. He was given the money by the woman he had saved the day Jacob wanted pancakes. The money was for dinner, but I told Danny to buy something he really wanted and he did. Danny bought a #11 D. White jersey. It's pretty sweet.
Our last couple of days were spent with Danny's good friend Cheto and his family. Cheto was the interpreter assigned to Team Pillage while in Kurdistan in 2004. Getting to meet the last man of that incredible team was a joy. Though Cheto was not part of the Army, he was an important part of this team and I credit him for putting up with those yahoos and for being there each time Danny was talking to village leaders. He was instrumental in Pillage's success.
We ate and ate and ate and then we drank chi. Then we went to the Middle Eastern grocery and Cheto bought us tea and Chi cups so that we could at least drink the chi at home. I opened myself up to all the new foods on the table and found that I loved it all. My mom would have been so proud. Cheto and his wife gave me history lessons about the region and was so patient with me and my ignorant questions. Such warmth and hospitality! I know we always have a place to stay in Dallas.
Our last night was in a fancy hotel in Dallas. Danny likes a fancy hotel and now that I am Formula One Fancy, I do, too. The hotel brought a piece of chocolate cake to our room for my birthday. The pool and spa were outside on the fourth floor. There were fire pits going and the Dallas skyline was lit up beautifully. It was an easy end to such a great week. I don't really have the words- this guy of mine. WOW!
So my birthday is on Monday. I took the day off of work. Danny will take a half day. Traditionally we do our Christmas shopping on my birthday. We hang out, laugh a lot and end up at a nice place for dinner. This year, John and Nick's. Then we start the twelve days of birthday (similar to the twelve days of Christmas) . Nothing happens on those twelve days, I just thought it was a creative way to keep the birthday thing going.
I'm taking Danny on a cruise for his 45th. Thankfully I have 21 months to plan. There will be no topping this one though. Luckiest girl ever!
PS We got real cowboy boots. Justin Ropers. No Shit. They are pretty sweet.
After the penguins, my God what could there be after the penguins?
Austin. We booked a room at the ridiculously silly Brown Bed and Ball Throwing Inn. It was a treat to be able to spend some quality time with my cousin Jake and his ever so lovely wife, Amy and the daughters, Sara and Emma. Sara, I don't know if you had heard, was in an car accident a few days prior and the pain of it all had finally caught up to her. She was pretty miserable with back issues. Emma, on the other hand, was her usual witty self. We were also delighted with Gucci and her ball dropping, dog staring until the ball is thrown antics. Fred the cat didn't do much but sit behind the curtain ala Alfred Hitchcock and occasionally come out to be loved.
Jake and Amy gave us an amazing tour of Austin and by amazing, I mean that Jake would get on the wrong street and Amy would randomly point stuff of interest. It was very entertaining.
We ate at three Austin-ing places and I can't remember the names. A little Mexican place that had great not name brand soda. We ate at P. Telly's. Does that sound right? And we ate at an Austin Brewhouse. That might be what it was called. The best meal out was the one we shared at my cousin, Mary's house. Mary and her husband, Dick are Jake's parents. We also met Micheal, Jake's son. Mary is my first cousin. The Snow family tree grows oddly.
I don't think I have ever spent any quality time with my cousin Mary. The age difference between us made me just a lass when she and her husband moved from Crapids. From our conversation that evening, I learned more about my dad, his mom and my own siblings as children. Mary spilled a bottle of wine. Mary and Dick drank two bottles of wine. It was a fantastic evening.
Saturday, Danny and I went into Austin on our own. We parked the car and walked around the downtown area. We scoped out the bridge for the bats later on. We looked at Formula One cars, and Monster Girls and lots and lots of dogs. We had anticipated a lot more shopping. That was a disappointment. What was not a disappointment was the very fancy cars we saw. A Ferrari, a Bentley and something so damn fancy we couldn't name it. We also saw a lot of Formula One fancy Europeans. You know what I mean by Formula One fancy- their leather shoes are made from grass fed cows that never walked in their own poop. Their white shirts are so white they are blue. Their hair grays in the precise manner that is required of it to make them look distinguished, not old. At first I thought I wasn't Formula One Fancy, but then I decided I was. The alternative is Nascar Fancy and I am certainly not that Fancy!
Danny, being the great guy that he is, stood on the Ann Richards/Congress Bridge with me for an hour and a half because I wanted to see the bats. Danny wanted to see them, too, but I don't know if he would have stood there an hour and a half. The sun set and the bats did not come. We had walked under the bridge earlier in the day and heard a lot of chatter, but when it was time for them to leave, we saw seven fly out. Seven little bats. That was a bit of a let down, but bats migrate- who knew.
Duran Duran. The whole point of this BWE! They did not disappoint.
I have been a fan since 1983. Seventh grade when all my money was sunk into Teen Beat and Tiger Beat magazine. Quality television was Night Trax when they showed a Duran Duran video ( or any video from like minded artists). Duran Duran. John Taylor, mostly, but Duran Duran. Not ever in all my days did I think I would see them live. They never came to Iowa that I was aware of, I wasn't going to be traveling to other states. I got married, John missed his chance. They weren't touring but were collaborating with other artists. I forgot my roots and listened to country. I found my roots again but was too knee deep in little people to afford a concert. And then Danny and I reached that magical age (you know what I am talking about Lisa Moore) when the bands we loved started touring again and we could afford to see them. But still Duran Duran was never even imagined. And my husband got tickets. He is one crafty son of a bitch.
So there I am with the man that replaced John Taylor in my heart of hearts, and believe me, best choice I ever made. We are seven or so rows up from the balcony. Duran Duran is straight ahead of us. They look good and sound, well the smell like they sound. And if that statement is true (and I think it is) they smell fantastic. Considering what the 80s did to so many of their peers, Duran Duran have cleaned up their act and are putting on a great show. There was no mistaking that they were having a great time on stage and the audience completely responded. I had forgotten that I still knew all the words. I knew when to du du du duuuu.
Danny told me later that I do this thing when I am really excited or happy. And it must be completely involuntary as I didn't even realize, but I put my hands up to my lips like a First Communion candidate from the '60s. He said I was doing that a lot. I didn't cry, but I had the shivers when they first took the stage. What an amazing gift he gave me that night. Not the tickets or the trip, but the chance. I am blessed beyond measure, I truly am.
So how does one follow Duran Duran? Well, lets go back six more years to my earliest football memories. What do I find there, none other than the Dallas Cowboys. Coincidentally those Boys just happen to be my husband's favorite as well. Ashlyn and Hayley bought us tickets for our birthdays. Pulling up to Jerry's House was just funny. It is ginormous. And everywhere we looked were other Dallas fans. That was so unusual and so comforting. Everything about the stadium is over the top. But it is impressive and someday (soon) the team will be impressive again as well.
We all know what happened on the field and it wasn't pretty. And as much as a win would have been perfect, it wasn't necessary because everything else was perfect.
We toured the stadium a couple of days later and were able to go down on the field. I made Cowboys angels in the end zone. I picked bits of turf out of the star. I watched Danny walk around his Graceland. My Graceland too. Granted, there isn't the history that Texas Stadium held. It is no Lambeau Field or Soldier Field in terms of longevity but it is fucking awesome and that is good enough for me. Danny had been carrying around a hundred dollar bill since September. He was given the money by the woman he had saved the day Jacob wanted pancakes. The money was for dinner, but I told Danny to buy something he really wanted and he did. Danny bought a #11 D. White jersey. It's pretty sweet.
Our last couple of days were spent with Danny's good friend Cheto and his family. Cheto was the interpreter assigned to Team Pillage while in Kurdistan in 2004. Getting to meet the last man of that incredible team was a joy. Though Cheto was not part of the Army, he was an important part of this team and I credit him for putting up with those yahoos and for being there each time Danny was talking to village leaders. He was instrumental in Pillage's success.
We ate and ate and ate and then we drank chi. Then we went to the Middle Eastern grocery and Cheto bought us tea and Chi cups so that we could at least drink the chi at home. I opened myself up to all the new foods on the table and found that I loved it all. My mom would have been so proud. Cheto and his wife gave me history lessons about the region and was so patient with me and my ignorant questions. Such warmth and hospitality! I know we always have a place to stay in Dallas.
Our last night was in a fancy hotel in Dallas. Danny likes a fancy hotel and now that I am Formula One Fancy, I do, too. The hotel brought a piece of chocolate cake to our room for my birthday. The pool and spa were outside on the fourth floor. There were fire pits going and the Dallas skyline was lit up beautifully. It was an easy end to such a great week. I don't really have the words- this guy of mine. WOW!
So my birthday is on Monday. I took the day off of work. Danny will take a half day. Traditionally we do our Christmas shopping on my birthday. We hang out, laugh a lot and end up at a nice place for dinner. This year, John and Nick's. Then we start the twelve days of birthday (similar to the twelve days of Christmas) . Nothing happens on those twelve days, I just thought it was a creative way to keep the birthday thing going.
I'm taking Danny on a cruise for his 45th. Thankfully I have 21 months to plan. There will be no topping this one though. Luckiest girl ever!
PS We got real cowboy boots. Justin Ropers. No Shit. They are pretty sweet.
Sunday, November 9, 2014
Happy 239th Birthday Marines!
Well, I am a day early, but for those of you that know me, my USMC birthday starts a few days ahead as I have the distinct honor of making the birthday cake for a group of Marines here. They appear to be a rag tag group of firemen, police and salty dogs looking for a place to celebrate with like minded people. And by like minded people, I mean hard charging Marines.
I believe this is my eighth cake in nine years. I did not do the honors in 2008 as I had a lot going on, but otherwise I have been it! I don't know how I got the job. I am guessing Pat Hickey and my husband were talking and you know what they say about great minds... So I said yep that first year which was also the year we were remodeling our kitchen and I haven't looked back since.
This year is the 239th birthday but for me, more importantly, it is my Marine's 25th birthday. The Marine Corps was very good to him, making much of the man he is today. It was also very good to me. As a spouse, I learned a lot in those four years and am grateful for the opportunity to live in Southern California, drive on the 5, learn a little something about pride and honor, and oh, there is the small matter of two baby girls that the Marines paid for.
This year's cake is my second bulldog. There is eight cakes on that board, fifteen cups of powdered sugar in the frosting, no misspelled words (which is a plus considering I am writing backwards and upside down sometimes).
The first year I went simple with the Marine Corps emblem. The second year was my first bulldog. Then I made a trip to the Marine Corps Museum and got a little more creative. Tun's Tavern has been my favorite as it required all my creative skills. Another year was the yellow footprints, followed by Iwo Jima, dress blues blouse and campaign cover. I already know next year's and the year after. They look brilliant in my mind.
With Veteran's Day the day after the Corps birthday it is easy to get caught up in the emotions of being on the fringe of the military. Some of these guys that will gather around the cake tomorrow have put their asses on the line in the Pacific, Korea, Vietnam, Iraq and Afghanistan. The rest have missed birthdays, Christmas', day to day life in case. In case the shit got real and they needed to take care of business. There will be very few heroic stories tomorrow night, but it will mostly be tales of drunken escapades, barrack hi jinks, run ins with command. These men are so very proud to be Marines.
Happy 239th Birthday Marines...Semper Fi!
I believe this is my eighth cake in nine years. I did not do the honors in 2008 as I had a lot going on, but otherwise I have been it! I don't know how I got the job. I am guessing Pat Hickey and my husband were talking and you know what they say about great minds... So I said yep that first year which was also the year we were remodeling our kitchen and I haven't looked back since.
This year is the 239th birthday but for me, more importantly, it is my Marine's 25th birthday. The Marine Corps was very good to him, making much of the man he is today. It was also very good to me. As a spouse, I learned a lot in those four years and am grateful for the opportunity to live in Southern California, drive on the 5, learn a little something about pride and honor, and oh, there is the small matter of two baby girls that the Marines paid for.
This year's cake is my second bulldog. There is eight cakes on that board, fifteen cups of powdered sugar in the frosting, no misspelled words (which is a plus considering I am writing backwards and upside down sometimes).
The first year I went simple with the Marine Corps emblem. The second year was my first bulldog. Then I made a trip to the Marine Corps Museum and got a little more creative. Tun's Tavern has been my favorite as it required all my creative skills. Another year was the yellow footprints, followed by Iwo Jima, dress blues blouse and campaign cover. I already know next year's and the year after. They look brilliant in my mind.
With Veteran's Day the day after the Corps birthday it is easy to get caught up in the emotions of being on the fringe of the military. Some of these guys that will gather around the cake tomorrow have put their asses on the line in the Pacific, Korea, Vietnam, Iraq and Afghanistan. The rest have missed birthdays, Christmas', day to day life in case. In case the shit got real and they needed to take care of business. There will be very few heroic stories tomorrow night, but it will mostly be tales of drunken escapades, barrack hi jinks, run ins with command. These men are so very proud to be Marines.
Happy 239th Birthday Marines...Semper Fi!
Birthday Week Extravaganza Part 1
I didn't know all the details of my Birthday Week Extravaganza (BWE) and for the first time, I was glad not to know. I knew that Danny had done a lot of work on this week and I didn't want to try and think of his surprises or be a pain in the ass about the plans. I had two questions, did I need to pack my scuba gear or prom dress. He said no to both which was good, since I have neither.
I knew that we were going to Austin and to Dallas. We were going to see Duran Duran and The Cowboys. That was the gist of the trip.
Oh this all started months ago when a friend of mine that lives in Austin posted to her Facebook page that Duran Duran would be performing during the Formula 1 Race. Having been a fan, sometimes rabid, since 1983, I reposted the information to my husband's wall and commented that we should go.
Fast forward to ticket sales day. Danny took the day off of work and started the purchasing process at exactly 10 a.m. He had gotten the tickets, second balcony about seven rows up in the middle. In a venue that truly did not have a bad seat in the house, these were amazing. Though John Taylor would not see me or hear me, I would clearly see and hear him. I was beginning to be Hungry Like the Wolf. (I smell like I sound).
So with tickets purchased, a vacation now had to be planned...
Danny did it all. And I graciously stayed out of Ashlyn, Hayley, by text, and his way as they put their heads together and giggled and oohed and aahed and glanced my way and then uttered a series of yes's followed by chest bumps and high fives. Ok, I don't know what they did in the planning stages because I just tried to stay out of the way. Danny making plans is a joyous event because he is so excited about it. I love his generosity. (When he bought The Eagles tickets for his mom, he could not be contained with excitement as he found the perfect seats!)
At work, I readied everything I could for my week's absence. I wrote seven pages of notes, including all the post holiday switches. I was going to be gone over Halloween, and would not be there for the taking down of orange and black and the putting up of red and green. My notes were detailed. The information shared with the leadership. And at 4:00 on Tuesday, I didn't have a rat's ass to share with anyone about what may happen the following week at work! In fact, I didn't even go into a Walgreens while on vacation. Upon return, I was still on such a BWE high that I didn't care that the notes were mostly left unread and that I still got to switch the colors.
We flew Southwest out of Des Moines. I love that we have Southwest now though I am still not a fan of not having an assigned seat. But other than that, the airline is fun! My first surprise was revealed at check in time when the ticket counter person asked if we were headed to San Antonio. I thought we were going to Austin but San Antonio is cool. What do I know!?! And I admit that my geography knowledge of Texas is poor so I didn't know drive times etc and figured this was an easier flight.
San Antonio, what a great town. Danny has a thing about hotels, he likes to stay in the very nice ones when he can. The Contessa on the Riverwalk is one such hotel. We had a Riverwalk view. The room was an upscale studio apartment. The people were so nice! I love being treated as special as I am!
We ate at Hard Rock because we could. I have always liked the Hardrock since my first visit to the original in 1987 in London. I know it is an overpriced chain, but. That is where drink #1 and #2 happened. I drank half of Danny's fruit press drink. It was so good!
We took a boat ride and learned some of the history of the area. These type of little tours are such a great way to see the city, or riverwalk quickly and then make a plan to go a little deeper into places. After the tour we headed to the Alamo (basement was closed for repairs) and then onto The Menger to have a beer in the same bar that Teddy Roosevelt and the Rough Riders drank in. We have now drank in the same establishments as Teddy and Charles Dickens. I don't know if we will ever top that pub though as it was so dark and dank and reeked of beer and fire. Oh, and Tits was going to be there but that is another story.
That was drink #3.
We went to the Riverwalk mall and found a Disney store. Christmas present purchased!
We took a lot of photos and laughed a lot and I was already over the moon with my BWE and the first day wasn't even over. I use the term blessed a lot, but boy am I ever!
We went to a Texas steakhouse on the Riverwalk and got a terrible steak. I don't even know how that happens. I thin ribeye, an overcooked sirloin and cold fries. Tripadvisor will hear about this.
We went to Durty Nelly's, an Irish pub with a sing a long piano player. There were buckets of peanuts on the tables and buckets of shells on the floor. Drinks #4, 5. I had been up since 5 am.
Our final stop was a piano bar and that is where all my money left me. Have you been to a piano bar? Tips for songs (I did not get Barry Manilow). Tips to change the writing on the mirror -GO COWBOYS in response to someone's GO GIANTS and SCREW THAT! GO USA! in response to someone's bullshit European sports shout out! I'm nothing if not obnoxious when well into drinks #6, 7, 8, 9. 9 was the kicker. My birthday shot which was twice that size and contained Red Bull. No thank you. Danny and I danced and dipped and then he cut me off from the booze because I was trashed and a huge surprise was planned for the next day. I ever so lady liked flipped him off but don't think I was truly upset. It was a fantastic day and I immediately passed out on return to the Contessa.
At 4 in the morning 9,8,7,6,5,4,3,2,1 left me in a very unlady like fashion. I had never been a consumer of Pepto Bismal before but I shall never leave home without it again. By the time we hit the road on Thursday morning, I was feeling fine. We headed south. Austin is north. Sea World signs. WTF?
I asked Danny if we were going to Sea World and he told me yes, but that it was closed. The slight hangover probably didn't help my confusion so Danny explained further. The park was closed but he had purchased an hour encounter in the penguin exhibit. I (we) would be able to go into the Antarctica like enclosure and walk amongst the penguins. I started crying there on the interstate. I thought skipping a day of work to buy Duran Duran tickets was the nicest thing ever but this, this tops everything. I have loved penguins longer than Duran Duran. My dad had been to Antarctica twice while in the Navy and it was a great treat when he would get out the old photo album and show me the photos of him in his bushy beard and the penguins on the ice pack. I have spent much of my adult life collecting and being gifted penguins of all designs. Our wedding cake top was of penguins in veil and dress blues cover. I had imagined taking a cruise to Antarctica, but not really. But this, this was just beyond anything I ever imagined.
At Sea World we watched a little slide show, were given the do's and don'ts and donned the cold weather gear. It was around 30 degrees in the enclosure with a light snow. It was mating season and many of the penguins had paired off and were nestled together in their cozy rock nests.
Naughty and hilarious and more naughty and oh, so very sweet. That describes the penguins we met. Gentoo, King, Rockhopper and Chinstrap live inside the enclosure. The King had just finished moulting and were walking around strutting their stuff. Most of the Rockhoppers had found themselves a partner and were snuggled in the rocks. The Chinstraps were busy causing trouble. One spent our entire visit walking behind Danny and biting at his ankles. They very much wanted to know what we were up to, but wanted no part of our kind words or kind pets. The Gentoo were so very nice and sweet. Words fail me. I know, how is that possible. I never ever ever imagined that I would get to pet a penguin, let alone all those that came up to me. I never ever ever imagined that I would have a penguin on my lap and one peaking around my should while another came barreling in ala Harlow to get some attention. I had always been a fan of the emperor but can now say with complete confidence that the gentle Gentoo is my favorite. To top it all off, Danny just let me have this experience. He took all the photos, he was completely selfless, making sure I was first and foremost with these guys. Best friend/husband/guy ever. Have I mentioned that I am blessed beyond measure.
"We have never done a whole birthday week before" commented Danny
"I always have, you have just finally caught on to it." I replied
I knew that we were going to Austin and to Dallas. We were going to see Duran Duran and The Cowboys. That was the gist of the trip.
Oh this all started months ago when a friend of mine that lives in Austin posted to her Facebook page that Duran Duran would be performing during the Formula 1 Race. Having been a fan, sometimes rabid, since 1983, I reposted the information to my husband's wall and commented that we should go.
Fast forward to ticket sales day. Danny took the day off of work and started the purchasing process at exactly 10 a.m. He had gotten the tickets, second balcony about seven rows up in the middle. In a venue that truly did not have a bad seat in the house, these were amazing. Though John Taylor would not see me or hear me, I would clearly see and hear him. I was beginning to be Hungry Like the Wolf. (I smell like I sound).
So with tickets purchased, a vacation now had to be planned...
Danny did it all. And I graciously stayed out of Ashlyn, Hayley, by text, and his way as they put their heads together and giggled and oohed and aahed and glanced my way and then uttered a series of yes's followed by chest bumps and high fives. Ok, I don't know what they did in the planning stages because I just tried to stay out of the way. Danny making plans is a joyous event because he is so excited about it. I love his generosity. (When he bought The Eagles tickets for his mom, he could not be contained with excitement as he found the perfect seats!)
At work, I readied everything I could for my week's absence. I wrote seven pages of notes, including all the post holiday switches. I was going to be gone over Halloween, and would not be there for the taking down of orange and black and the putting up of red and green. My notes were detailed. The information shared with the leadership. And at 4:00 on Tuesday, I didn't have a rat's ass to share with anyone about what may happen the following week at work! In fact, I didn't even go into a Walgreens while on vacation. Upon return, I was still on such a BWE high that I didn't care that the notes were mostly left unread and that I still got to switch the colors.
We flew Southwest out of Des Moines. I love that we have Southwest now though I am still not a fan of not having an assigned seat. But other than that, the airline is fun! My first surprise was revealed at check in time when the ticket counter person asked if we were headed to San Antonio. I thought we were going to Austin but San Antonio is cool. What do I know!?! And I admit that my geography knowledge of Texas is poor so I didn't know drive times etc and figured this was an easier flight.
San Antonio, what a great town. Danny has a thing about hotels, he likes to stay in the very nice ones when he can. The Contessa on the Riverwalk is one such hotel. We had a Riverwalk view. The room was an upscale studio apartment. The people were so nice! I love being treated as special as I am!
We ate at Hard Rock because we could. I have always liked the Hardrock since my first visit to the original in 1987 in London. I know it is an overpriced chain, but. That is where drink #1 and #2 happened. I drank half of Danny's fruit press drink. It was so good!
We took a boat ride and learned some of the history of the area. These type of little tours are such a great way to see the city, or riverwalk quickly and then make a plan to go a little deeper into places. After the tour we headed to the Alamo (basement was closed for repairs) and then onto The Menger to have a beer in the same bar that Teddy Roosevelt and the Rough Riders drank in. We have now drank in the same establishments as Teddy and Charles Dickens. I don't know if we will ever top that pub though as it was so dark and dank and reeked of beer and fire. Oh, and Tits was going to be there but that is another story.
That was drink #3.
We went to the Riverwalk mall and found a Disney store. Christmas present purchased!
We took a lot of photos and laughed a lot and I was already over the moon with my BWE and the first day wasn't even over. I use the term blessed a lot, but boy am I ever!
We went to a Texas steakhouse on the Riverwalk and got a terrible steak. I don't even know how that happens. I thin ribeye, an overcooked sirloin and cold fries. Tripadvisor will hear about this.
We went to Durty Nelly's, an Irish pub with a sing a long piano player. There were buckets of peanuts on the tables and buckets of shells on the floor. Drinks #4, 5. I had been up since 5 am.
Our final stop was a piano bar and that is where all my money left me. Have you been to a piano bar? Tips for songs (I did not get Barry Manilow). Tips to change the writing on the mirror -GO COWBOYS in response to someone's GO GIANTS and SCREW THAT! GO USA! in response to someone's bullshit European sports shout out! I'm nothing if not obnoxious when well into drinks #6, 7, 8, 9. 9 was the kicker. My birthday shot which was twice that size and contained Red Bull. No thank you. Danny and I danced and dipped and then he cut me off from the booze because I was trashed and a huge surprise was planned for the next day. I ever so lady liked flipped him off but don't think I was truly upset. It was a fantastic day and I immediately passed out on return to the Contessa.
At 4 in the morning 9,8,7,6,5,4,3,2,1 left me in a very unlady like fashion. I had never been a consumer of Pepto Bismal before but I shall never leave home without it again. By the time we hit the road on Thursday morning, I was feeling fine. We headed south. Austin is north. Sea World signs. WTF?
I asked Danny if we were going to Sea World and he told me yes, but that it was closed. The slight hangover probably didn't help my confusion so Danny explained further. The park was closed but he had purchased an hour encounter in the penguin exhibit. I (we) would be able to go into the Antarctica like enclosure and walk amongst the penguins. I started crying there on the interstate. I thought skipping a day of work to buy Duran Duran tickets was the nicest thing ever but this, this tops everything. I have loved penguins longer than Duran Duran. My dad had been to Antarctica twice while in the Navy and it was a great treat when he would get out the old photo album and show me the photos of him in his bushy beard and the penguins on the ice pack. I have spent much of my adult life collecting and being gifted penguins of all designs. Our wedding cake top was of penguins in veil and dress blues cover. I had imagined taking a cruise to Antarctica, but not really. But this, this was just beyond anything I ever imagined.
At Sea World we watched a little slide show, were given the do's and don'ts and donned the cold weather gear. It was around 30 degrees in the enclosure with a light snow. It was mating season and many of the penguins had paired off and were nestled together in their cozy rock nests.
Naughty and hilarious and more naughty and oh, so very sweet. That describes the penguins we met. Gentoo, King, Rockhopper and Chinstrap live inside the enclosure. The King had just finished moulting and were walking around strutting their stuff. Most of the Rockhoppers had found themselves a partner and were snuggled in the rocks. The Chinstraps were busy causing trouble. One spent our entire visit walking behind Danny and biting at his ankles. They very much wanted to know what we were up to, but wanted no part of our kind words or kind pets. The Gentoo were so very nice and sweet. Words fail me. I know, how is that possible. I never ever ever imagined that I would get to pet a penguin, let alone all those that came up to me. I never ever ever imagined that I would have a penguin on my lap and one peaking around my should while another came barreling in ala Harlow to get some attention. I had always been a fan of the emperor but can now say with complete confidence that the gentle Gentoo is my favorite. To top it all off, Danny just let me have this experience. He took all the photos, he was completely selfless, making sure I was first and foremost with these guys. Best friend/husband/guy ever. Have I mentioned that I am blessed beyond measure.
"We have never done a whole birthday week before" commented Danny
"I always have, you have just finally caught on to it." I replied
Monday, October 13, 2014
Home Again
Two weekends ago, we had Hayley and Brett. Last weekend we had Jacob. We always have Ashlyn.
Home again. Just briefly. So briefly that there is no time to clean up after the cat or dinner. That waits for mom on Monday!
Home again with laundry and meal requests. Long talks at the island. Time going by far too fast.
It is strange the way these children move in and out of my day now. I wonder how my parents felt with my comings and goings. It isn't hard to have them pop in and out. But it is so hard. These lives they have are not something I am privy to. I have to ask the questions to get the answers. And even then, the answers are often a two letter word. OK. Or I am the board in which a dozen ideas are bounced off of. I love that they have enough faith and confidence in me to let me in on their hopes.
Hayley, at the end of one chapter and already wanting to write the next. I cannot really imagine what she is feeling, desperately wanting to know what come next and wanting to know how to start making that happen. She will graduate in May from UNI. She may have a job lined up here in Des Moines but I get the feeling that she is in no hurry to leave the job she has in Cedar Falls. I know that she is ready to pack up and leave the shit hole she is living in. She is ready for an ant free, furnace working apartment with cupboards that close properly, with tenants that don't hit the building, with pot smoke not wafting through the halls. But this apartment was a great place to start because it will only get better. She has already taken the first step and purchased a reliable vehicle, she has money in the bank. She has a plan.
I just hope she remembers that plans are written on the beach of the ocean and the tide comes in with no mercy. What is written isn't always so. I hope she knows that she always has a place here, even with her cat. I hope she knows that there is no shame in finding us a safe place to rest, regroup and see movies every Wednesday night. If she should need us...
Jacob is full of adventure. He is taking ISU's marketing campaign to heart and seems to be enjoying it. OK is the answer I get to the question of classes. But this isn't my bill so it isn't mine to pry. I just hope that he takes advantage of every adventure that is offered academic and otherwise. College has not changed him yet. I was still hugged and tackled and hugged again. Emmitt was still terrified all weekend. Jacob already has a job lined up for next summer. I think he has also realized that he will have to line up a job on campus sooner than later as life still comes with unexpected and expected bills.
Ashlyn waits for the LSAT results. I know we will lose her in the spring. Maybe as we gain Hayley and Jacob. I know that she only stopped here to rest. I know.
I returned twice to my parents home after I had gone and gotten married. It may have been the greatest gift they gave me in a long line of gifts. Danny was gone and I had the girls. We absolutely could have made it in SoCal as we did in Germany years later. But they were little and we were out in town. Which meant that there was no military near by and we were on our own day in and day out. Coming home gave peace of mind to everyone that needed it and it meant that the girls had a relationship with their grandparents that otherwise would not have been.
I hope that my kinder know that they can always come home again. If it is for summer break, or just a break from the realities of the world out there. We offer an old bedroom, a fresh supply of towels, some food, sometimes even cooked, Wednesday night movies (with kettle korn), a short list of chores and all the childhood movies one could ask for.
Home again. Just briefly. So briefly that there is no time to clean up after the cat or dinner. That waits for mom on Monday!
Home again with laundry and meal requests. Long talks at the island. Time going by far too fast.
It is strange the way these children move in and out of my day now. I wonder how my parents felt with my comings and goings. It isn't hard to have them pop in and out. But it is so hard. These lives they have are not something I am privy to. I have to ask the questions to get the answers. And even then, the answers are often a two letter word. OK. Or I am the board in which a dozen ideas are bounced off of. I love that they have enough faith and confidence in me to let me in on their hopes.
Hayley, at the end of one chapter and already wanting to write the next. I cannot really imagine what she is feeling, desperately wanting to know what come next and wanting to know how to start making that happen. She will graduate in May from UNI. She may have a job lined up here in Des Moines but I get the feeling that she is in no hurry to leave the job she has in Cedar Falls. I know that she is ready to pack up and leave the shit hole she is living in. She is ready for an ant free, furnace working apartment with cupboards that close properly, with tenants that don't hit the building, with pot smoke not wafting through the halls. But this apartment was a great place to start because it will only get better. She has already taken the first step and purchased a reliable vehicle, she has money in the bank. She has a plan.
I just hope she remembers that plans are written on the beach of the ocean and the tide comes in with no mercy. What is written isn't always so. I hope she knows that she always has a place here, even with her cat. I hope she knows that there is no shame in finding us a safe place to rest, regroup and see movies every Wednesday night. If she should need us...
Jacob is full of adventure. He is taking ISU's marketing campaign to heart and seems to be enjoying it. OK is the answer I get to the question of classes. But this isn't my bill so it isn't mine to pry. I just hope that he takes advantage of every adventure that is offered academic and otherwise. College has not changed him yet. I was still hugged and tackled and hugged again. Emmitt was still terrified all weekend. Jacob already has a job lined up for next summer. I think he has also realized that he will have to line up a job on campus sooner than later as life still comes with unexpected and expected bills.
Ashlyn waits for the LSAT results. I know we will lose her in the spring. Maybe as we gain Hayley and Jacob. I know that she only stopped here to rest. I know.
I returned twice to my parents home after I had gone and gotten married. It may have been the greatest gift they gave me in a long line of gifts. Danny was gone and I had the girls. We absolutely could have made it in SoCal as we did in Germany years later. But they were little and we were out in town. Which meant that there was no military near by and we were on our own day in and day out. Coming home gave peace of mind to everyone that needed it and it meant that the girls had a relationship with their grandparents that otherwise would not have been.
I hope that my kinder know that they can always come home again. If it is for summer break, or just a break from the realities of the world out there. We offer an old bedroom, a fresh supply of towels, some food, sometimes even cooked, Wednesday night movies (with kettle korn), a short list of chores and all the childhood movies one could ask for.
Sunday, September 28, 2014
The Military Diet
So I found The Military Diet or Three Day Diet on Pinterest this past week. I am not very good at following any type of eating plan but thought I could handle three days. The promise of this diet is up to five pounds weight loss in the three days. It is meant as a jumping off point, I suppose, to a little less weight and a little more motivation.
It was hard to pick the best three days. No Wednesdays because that's movie night and kettle korn night. I chose the three days after, Thursday, Friday, Saturday. Bad choice because Friday was a work birthday and I couldn't eat cheesecake and Saturday had two birthday cakes to make and I couldn't eat any graham cracker cookies.
Wednesday night I went to the grocery store with my list. I bought the app for the diet just to help me stay on track. The two McDonalds sweet teas that I didn't buy paid for the app. Ashlyn and Danny were with me at the store and were questioning the food choices on this. There is ice cream and saltines and hot dogs along with cottage cheese and carrots. Seems legit!
Thursday morning the scale said loud and proud 149. Well, fuck, that is higher than I expected. And unfortunately from what I know of my weight during the FXB days, that is over ten pounds of fat. During FXB I was much more fit and muscular and weighed ten pounds less. During the deployment days (which I also refer to as the crazy year) I hit bottom at 118. There was very little muscle and mostly bone protruding from my neck. Oddly, when I was in my early twenties, I weighed much less than that but don't notice the protruding bone, she needs a sandwich effect in old photos. And I know that I am not fat, I know that my weight gain is easily solved with less sugar and more exercise. But I am lazy and don't want to keep track. I like sweet tea and candy. In fact, I may be an elf.
I continued to take my normal vitamins and supplements during the three days. I take a multi, an iron, two D's, two different B's, a biotin for healthy nails and hair and an Epicor to keep me breathing!
Day one seemed like a lot of food especially for breakfast. I drank tea and ate grapefruit and toast with peanut butter. I had the grapefruit in the cup because it only called for a half of grapefruit and the other half would have gone bad. The cup has added sugar so there's that. But this was a great breakfast and I wasn't hungry at all at work.
Lunch was at 2:00 with 1/2 cup of cottage cheese and 1/8 cup sunflower kernels and more tea. I normally don't eat lunch at work but two smaller snacks. This was much healthier than usual. I was also drinking water throughout the day, something I don't normally do.
Dinner was delightful with chicken, green beans, 1/2 banana and apple and 1 cup of vanilla ice cream. I did not go to bed hungry!
The next two days were different and less foods but I never felt hungry. I had a horrible headache on day two. I don't know if it was the diet, lack of sugar or just time. I drank a half of gallon of water which is a half gallon more than I usually drink and the headache stayed. That was the only problem I really encountered.
I peed a lot over the next three days, but the claim that I just lost water weight doesn't seem fair considering that I was not dehydrated and that I had drank zero water prior to the start. My belly felt flatter and softer. Danny thought it looked littler as well. I did not exercise at all. There were no violent poops associated with this diet either which was nice. Peeing was the big theme for me.
The weigh in on day two was 146, day three was 145.6 and the final weigh in was 145.2. Respectable results, if you ask me. Now I am on my own eating responsibly and exercising.
I started the 20 day plank challenge yesterday...
It was hard to pick the best three days. No Wednesdays because that's movie night and kettle korn night. I chose the three days after, Thursday, Friday, Saturday. Bad choice because Friday was a work birthday and I couldn't eat cheesecake and Saturday had two birthday cakes to make and I couldn't eat any graham cracker cookies.
Wednesday night I went to the grocery store with my list. I bought the app for the diet just to help me stay on track. The two McDonalds sweet teas that I didn't buy paid for the app. Ashlyn and Danny were with me at the store and were questioning the food choices on this. There is ice cream and saltines and hot dogs along with cottage cheese and carrots. Seems legit!
Thursday morning the scale said loud and proud 149. Well, fuck, that is higher than I expected. And unfortunately from what I know of my weight during the FXB days, that is over ten pounds of fat. During FXB I was much more fit and muscular and weighed ten pounds less. During the deployment days (which I also refer to as the crazy year) I hit bottom at 118. There was very little muscle and mostly bone protruding from my neck. Oddly, when I was in my early twenties, I weighed much less than that but don't notice the protruding bone, she needs a sandwich effect in old photos. And I know that I am not fat, I know that my weight gain is easily solved with less sugar and more exercise. But I am lazy and don't want to keep track. I like sweet tea and candy. In fact, I may be an elf.
I continued to take my normal vitamins and supplements during the three days. I take a multi, an iron, two D's, two different B's, a biotin for healthy nails and hair and an Epicor to keep me breathing!
Day one seemed like a lot of food especially for breakfast. I drank tea and ate grapefruit and toast with peanut butter. I had the grapefruit in the cup because it only called for a half of grapefruit and the other half would have gone bad. The cup has added sugar so there's that. But this was a great breakfast and I wasn't hungry at all at work.
Lunch was at 2:00 with 1/2 cup of cottage cheese and 1/8 cup sunflower kernels and more tea. I normally don't eat lunch at work but two smaller snacks. This was much healthier than usual. I was also drinking water throughout the day, something I don't normally do.
Dinner was delightful with chicken, green beans, 1/2 banana and apple and 1 cup of vanilla ice cream. I did not go to bed hungry!
The next two days were different and less foods but I never felt hungry. I had a horrible headache on day two. I don't know if it was the diet, lack of sugar or just time. I drank a half of gallon of water which is a half gallon more than I usually drink and the headache stayed. That was the only problem I really encountered.
I peed a lot over the next three days, but the claim that I just lost water weight doesn't seem fair considering that I was not dehydrated and that I had drank zero water prior to the start. My belly felt flatter and softer. Danny thought it looked littler as well. I did not exercise at all. There were no violent poops associated with this diet either which was nice. Peeing was the big theme for me.
The weigh in on day two was 146, day three was 145.6 and the final weigh in was 145.2. Respectable results, if you ask me. Now I am on my own eating responsibly and exercising.
I started the 20 day plank challenge yesterday...
Wednesday, September 24, 2014
Post Medium
So it has been a week since my visit to the medium. The same amount of time has passed since my last breakdown as well. I am still taking into consideration what was shared with me that evening. Some of it is fairly tongue in cheek, some far more seriously. It helps tremendously that I have this outlet and the outlet of those that know me to bounce these thoughts off of.
Interestedly, many were ready to completely disregard what this person had to say because it didn't mirror their own experience or they didn't believe. Well, this is mine and it isn't really up to you to decide what happened was real or true or accurate. I cannot really explain, but I know what was true and as I still process, I can make sense of most of what was said. Her feelings about Danny were off. He does like things a certain way when it pertains to his jobs. That was accurate, but in our relationship there has never been a sense of me giving up anything for him. Unless one wants to describe a grand adventure as giving up.
There was the misunderstanding that all of my angst last week was caused by what the medium said. That really isn't true. My angst really stemmed from knowing that as I was read, what was read was still unwritten. Does that make sense? I believe that this person was able to see into me, got a feel of how I feel. She clearly saw that I am not where I want to be. Potential, it seems, is a loaded word. The medium didn't make me feel bad about myself. I felt that way going in, she just pulled those feelings up to the surface. I know that there is something in me that wants to come forward but I can't seem to figure out what that something is. I know that I wanted the medium to be able to see that. But that is my mystery to solve. Challenge accepted. I have books to read and other avenues to explore.
Potential.
I used to really enjoy my job when I was in inventory control. I was good at it and it was a pretty black and white type of job. Scientific even. Selling cosmetics is many colors and I am not so good at it. I could easily retain what I learned in my old position. I do not retain the information I learn in this position. That is frustrating. It isn't that I am not good at my job, it just isn't the type of job I am wired for. But there is that acceptance now that this job is a means to an end. Usually a weekend. This job pays me well enough to enjoy the life I have away from the drugstore.
It feels really good to finally put that into its proper place. Remind me of that when I want to bitch about my job again.
Someone had commented that someday I would realize that my loved ones were in a good place, or something like that. I know where my mom is. I don't question her presence in heaven. That is one of the things I am sure of in my life. Wanting to talk to my mom through the medium was not about finding out if my mom was ok, it was about having one last meaningful conversation with her. I don't remember the last time we spoke as mom and daughter. I remember the last meaningful conversation that we had though. It was my sister, Sheila's wedding. My mom did not recognize me. Sheila talked her through her children, (Bobby, Crissy, Dicky, Sheila, Annie) which had always worked in the past, but this time when Sheila got to Annie, the blank look in my mom's eyes didn't leave. Like the photo in Back to the Future, I had faded away from her memory. I don't know that I will ever make peace with that day. I don't know how anyone can expect me to. And I know that a medium could give me some very generic words of love and pride, but maybe my mom will really come forward and I will get one more chance. Maybe she will use a phrase from my childhood. Maybe. A lot of people have had signs and messages from beyond the grave, am I selfish for wanting mine?
I don't know quite how I feel about reincarnation. But I am having so much fun with my past lives that I don't intend to let them go. Just as people can glean the deeper meaning out of the bible or philosophy texts, I am gleaning the deeper meaning out of my past lives and the additional information she shared with me. If the Lord communicated through dreams and bushes, why can't He also communicate through gifted people? Was a scientist or a healer? Sure! Why not! And if I wasn't, and choose to believe that I was, where is the harm in that? Call me crazy, you probably do anyway.
Oh, potential. I have got a plan for that.
The whole point of the medium, if I am going to be completely honest, was to talk to my dogs. For whatever reason, the expectations that I put on human relationships I never put on the canine ones. I could love them unconditionally without reading into everything. I was always at ease with them (except when I was walking Harlow). I was always myself with them. I always felt safe with them. I don't know if I ever properly thanked them for being my best friends. And secretly, I wanted to ask them to guide my next friend to me. When I hit my low, which happens from time to time, these pups never judged, they never glanced at the scars, they never rolled their eyes. In fact, when I hit the low, they sought me out and put their giant heads on me, taking away some of the weight from my heart in the process. I just wanted to say thanks. That's all.
I feel so much better now. I will go to another medium. I will keep looking for whatever it is I am looking for. I will keep blogging about it. Tapping into my potential.
Interestedly, many were ready to completely disregard what this person had to say because it didn't mirror their own experience or they didn't believe. Well, this is mine and it isn't really up to you to decide what happened was real or true or accurate. I cannot really explain, but I know what was true and as I still process, I can make sense of most of what was said. Her feelings about Danny were off. He does like things a certain way when it pertains to his jobs. That was accurate, but in our relationship there has never been a sense of me giving up anything for him. Unless one wants to describe a grand adventure as giving up.
There was the misunderstanding that all of my angst last week was caused by what the medium said. That really isn't true. My angst really stemmed from knowing that as I was read, what was read was still unwritten. Does that make sense? I believe that this person was able to see into me, got a feel of how I feel. She clearly saw that I am not where I want to be. Potential, it seems, is a loaded word. The medium didn't make me feel bad about myself. I felt that way going in, she just pulled those feelings up to the surface. I know that there is something in me that wants to come forward but I can't seem to figure out what that something is. I know that I wanted the medium to be able to see that. But that is my mystery to solve. Challenge accepted. I have books to read and other avenues to explore.
Potential.
I used to really enjoy my job when I was in inventory control. I was good at it and it was a pretty black and white type of job. Scientific even. Selling cosmetics is many colors and I am not so good at it. I could easily retain what I learned in my old position. I do not retain the information I learn in this position. That is frustrating. It isn't that I am not good at my job, it just isn't the type of job I am wired for. But there is that acceptance now that this job is a means to an end. Usually a weekend. This job pays me well enough to enjoy the life I have away from the drugstore.
It feels really good to finally put that into its proper place. Remind me of that when I want to bitch about my job again.
Someone had commented that someday I would realize that my loved ones were in a good place, or something like that. I know where my mom is. I don't question her presence in heaven. That is one of the things I am sure of in my life. Wanting to talk to my mom through the medium was not about finding out if my mom was ok, it was about having one last meaningful conversation with her. I don't remember the last time we spoke as mom and daughter. I remember the last meaningful conversation that we had though. It was my sister, Sheila's wedding. My mom did not recognize me. Sheila talked her through her children, (Bobby, Crissy, Dicky, Sheila, Annie) which had always worked in the past, but this time when Sheila got to Annie, the blank look in my mom's eyes didn't leave. Like the photo in Back to the Future, I had faded away from her memory. I don't know that I will ever make peace with that day. I don't know how anyone can expect me to. And I know that a medium could give me some very generic words of love and pride, but maybe my mom will really come forward and I will get one more chance. Maybe she will use a phrase from my childhood. Maybe. A lot of people have had signs and messages from beyond the grave, am I selfish for wanting mine?
I don't know quite how I feel about reincarnation. But I am having so much fun with my past lives that I don't intend to let them go. Just as people can glean the deeper meaning out of the bible or philosophy texts, I am gleaning the deeper meaning out of my past lives and the additional information she shared with me. If the Lord communicated through dreams and bushes, why can't He also communicate through gifted people? Was a scientist or a healer? Sure! Why not! And if I wasn't, and choose to believe that I was, where is the harm in that? Call me crazy, you probably do anyway.
Oh, potential. I have got a plan for that.
The whole point of the medium, if I am going to be completely honest, was to talk to my dogs. For whatever reason, the expectations that I put on human relationships I never put on the canine ones. I could love them unconditionally without reading into everything. I was always at ease with them (except when I was walking Harlow). I was always myself with them. I always felt safe with them. I don't know if I ever properly thanked them for being my best friends. And secretly, I wanted to ask them to guide my next friend to me. When I hit my low, which happens from time to time, these pups never judged, they never glanced at the scars, they never rolled their eyes. In fact, when I hit the low, they sought me out and put their giant heads on me, taking away some of the weight from my heart in the process. I just wanted to say thanks. That's all.
I feel so much better now. I will go to another medium. I will keep looking for whatever it is I am looking for. I will keep blogging about it. Tapping into my potential.
Saturday, September 20, 2014
Thank a Police Officer
It is thank a police officer day today. I didn't know that there was a special day for this, it seems to me that we should be thanking them on a regular basis for all that they do and don't do. But sadly, we don't. We grumble and complain and blame. Worse, our media often portrays them as brutal, racist bullies. Read the comments section below any law enforcement news story and it is hate filled and judgemental. High profile television news personalities second guess the actions of officers as they watch recorded footage. Well educated men that know their doubt creates doubt in their viewers.
I know that there are two big pushes right now following the shooting in Ferguson. Citizens demand that the officers wear body cameras and citizens demand that police departments get rid of the military styled equipment. Citizens are outraged. Citizens are generally uninformed and are feeding off the media frenzy. As the spouse of an officer, I am viewed as someone thoroughly educated on the in's and out's of law enforcement. Surprisingly, I am not. I do not know penal codes. I do not know the whereabouts of speed traps. I do not know why tasers, car cameras, radios malfunction. Though I find the idiots of this city fascinating, I am not in law enforcement, only married to a bit of it. I am quite sure that when my police officer husband goes to work, his fellow officers are not asking him questions regarding the cosmetics department at Walgreens.
Back to the body cameras and military styled equipment. My opinions on these two subjects are very biased. I love a great number of people that would use this equipment and their safety and well being is far more important to me than the opinions of Anderson Cooper et all. Body cameras, like any electronic device, will not work at some point. The point will probably be when it has been hit or jostled or knocked about a bit. It will probably be hit or jostled or knocked about a bit during a foot chase, an apprehension or a no holds barred fight for life. And when that happens, and it will, someone sitting comfortably behind a desk or standing angerly on the street corner will accuse the officer of shutting the camera off. They will forget, or not even remember what transpired. They will not understand that this officer was running across a trash strewn lot or was reaching for handcuffs while trying to maintain control of the suspect or was relying on every bit of police training to stay ahead of the man trying to get the service revolver. Because the finger of blame will have to be pointed. There will always have to be a hidden agenda. It will cause an officer to second guess instinct.
But in our need to know everything society, body cameras will become the norm.
Now about this military styled equipment that we have been hearing so much about. I think it is important to recognized that just because something is finished with a matte black coating, it does not make it militarized. Again, a creation of the media. As we watch the advancement of ISIS and learn of the ever increasing sympathizers here in the United States I think it is time we realize that the day we ask our local law enforcement to preform like the military is not too far off. The criminal that they are fighting will always be the piece of shit selling drugs and shooting rivals. The enemy they will have to fight will be well trained and educated haters of America bent on its destruction. Will it be necessary for Middle America agencies to have tactical vehicles and high powered rifles? You bet your ass. Because it is in places like Middle America that won't be the easy targets (WOLVERINES!). I want to know that in the event of a terrorist attack there are vehicles that can move through the rubble. Because those vehicles will be awfully handy during an Iowa snowstorm or spring flood. But with this equipment must come the training. Law enforcement cannot just dole it out when the shit hits, there must be continually training so that they are ready for the shit.
On that note, let's discuss the fact that two people have recently scaled the White House fence. Is this like the velociraptor in Jurassic Park? Never testing the fence in the same place, looking for the weakness? Ideally, the federal police would gather some well trained Belgian malinois' on break away leashes. Dogs aren't going to second guess, body camera or not and I don't care what crazy faction you are working for, there isn't a person alive that would not piss their pants at the sound of K9 law coming.
I cannot stay on topic.
Thank you for getting me across the street with ease after a concert at The Well. Thank you for cruising through the Quik Trip parking lot as I walk back to my car after the fair. Thank you for popping my lock at Wendy's when Ashlyn was in the back seat. Thank you for clearing out the post party at the Boom Boom Room when I was trying to sleep. Thank you for being honest about the liberal courts system in KC and that no one was going to jail when my vehicle was stolen. Thank you for the warning instead of the ticket and even thanks for the ticket. Sometimes we all need the reminder to slow it down, and you were probably close to winning a toaster. Thank you for being out in the worst kind of weather dealing with the worst kinds of people. Thank you for not listening to all the negative know it alls that do not have what it takes to save a life, stop a crime, protect a child.
I know that there are two big pushes right now following the shooting in Ferguson. Citizens demand that the officers wear body cameras and citizens demand that police departments get rid of the military styled equipment. Citizens are outraged. Citizens are generally uninformed and are feeding off the media frenzy. As the spouse of an officer, I am viewed as someone thoroughly educated on the in's and out's of law enforcement. Surprisingly, I am not. I do not know penal codes. I do not know the whereabouts of speed traps. I do not know why tasers, car cameras, radios malfunction. Though I find the idiots of this city fascinating, I am not in law enforcement, only married to a bit of it. I am quite sure that when my police officer husband goes to work, his fellow officers are not asking him questions regarding the cosmetics department at Walgreens.
Back to the body cameras and military styled equipment. My opinions on these two subjects are very biased. I love a great number of people that would use this equipment and their safety and well being is far more important to me than the opinions of Anderson Cooper et all. Body cameras, like any electronic device, will not work at some point. The point will probably be when it has been hit or jostled or knocked about a bit. It will probably be hit or jostled or knocked about a bit during a foot chase, an apprehension or a no holds barred fight for life. And when that happens, and it will, someone sitting comfortably behind a desk or standing angerly on the street corner will accuse the officer of shutting the camera off. They will forget, or not even remember what transpired. They will not understand that this officer was running across a trash strewn lot or was reaching for handcuffs while trying to maintain control of the suspect or was relying on every bit of police training to stay ahead of the man trying to get the service revolver. Because the finger of blame will have to be pointed. There will always have to be a hidden agenda. It will cause an officer to second guess instinct.
But in our need to know everything society, body cameras will become the norm.
Now about this military styled equipment that we have been hearing so much about. I think it is important to recognized that just because something is finished with a matte black coating, it does not make it militarized. Again, a creation of the media. As we watch the advancement of ISIS and learn of the ever increasing sympathizers here in the United States I think it is time we realize that the day we ask our local law enforcement to preform like the military is not too far off. The criminal that they are fighting will always be the piece of shit selling drugs and shooting rivals. The enemy they will have to fight will be well trained and educated haters of America bent on its destruction. Will it be necessary for Middle America agencies to have tactical vehicles and high powered rifles? You bet your ass. Because it is in places like Middle America that won't be the easy targets (WOLVERINES!). I want to know that in the event of a terrorist attack there are vehicles that can move through the rubble. Because those vehicles will be awfully handy during an Iowa snowstorm or spring flood. But with this equipment must come the training. Law enforcement cannot just dole it out when the shit hits, there must be continually training so that they are ready for the shit.
On that note, let's discuss the fact that two people have recently scaled the White House fence. Is this like the velociraptor in Jurassic Park? Never testing the fence in the same place, looking for the weakness? Ideally, the federal police would gather some well trained Belgian malinois' on break away leashes. Dogs aren't going to second guess, body camera or not and I don't care what crazy faction you are working for, there isn't a person alive that would not piss their pants at the sound of K9 law coming.
I cannot stay on topic.
Thank you for getting me across the street with ease after a concert at The Well. Thank you for cruising through the Quik Trip parking lot as I walk back to my car after the fair. Thank you for popping my lock at Wendy's when Ashlyn was in the back seat. Thank you for clearing out the post party at the Boom Boom Room when I was trying to sleep. Thank you for being honest about the liberal courts system in KC and that no one was going to jail when my vehicle was stolen. Thank you for the warning instead of the ticket and even thanks for the ticket. Sometimes we all need the reminder to slow it down, and you were probably close to winning a toaster. Thank you for being out in the worst kind of weather dealing with the worst kinds of people. Thank you for not listening to all the negative know it alls that do not have what it takes to save a life, stop a crime, protect a child.
Thursday, September 18, 2014
Still On This Medium Thing
So I can spend much of my day blowing holes in last night's experience. I can go on and on about how ridiculous it is that I would believe I was a scientist. It is the scientist part I am having a hard time with, not the living on Atlantis. I mean, someone had to live on Atlantis, so why not a former me, but scientist. I flunked chemistry my junior year. I think if I were a scientist on Atlantis, then I could have pushed my way through junior year chem. Of course, I did miss a week of school that year due to my extra curricular activities so my time on Atlantis really wouldn't have come into play. But then again, why couldn't I have been a scientist. A mad one at that.
Anyway, I have to decide what I believe. Do I believe in reincarnation? I don't know. I did have deja vu with my cat once. If I believe in reincarnation than I do believe that the essence of one life would follow to the next. But that also means that I don't believe that the soul immediately goes to heaven. Or maybe the soul multiplies like a single celled amoeba having sex. I don't know. Is this all there is? Is this enough? Is heaven the ultimate goal or is it ashes to ashes and just dust to dust?
Last night began with the medium reading me and opening me up. It was then that she discovered my past. I can take that or leave that. It is fun, it is interesting, it is possible.
I just keep going back to two things that we discussed last night-
My potential. Oh come on, let this go already.
My faith. Yes, we are back to that again.
Does God have a plan for me? Well everyone seems to think so because they say shit like "it is all part of God's plan" or "It wasn't part of God's plan." Tie that up neatly with living to one's potential and worse, that I am living to my potential and I have to wonder why God and I have so little faith in me. If this, and by this, I mean my job, is my potential.
Yes, I am a good wife and fine mother. I am assuming that actually. Danny says nice things about me and stuff, but I can't be really sure. And the kinder do give me hugs and send me texts and get me the perfect gifts. So I must be solid there. And I don't feel like that woman that wonders "is this all there is?" Because I know, for as kick ass wife and mothering is, that isn't all there is and I have never felt like it was or had to be. I have spent a great deal of my life identifying as White's Wife or Ashlyn, Hayley, Jacob's mom. So when the medium talked about me being more than that, I didn't feel like I was being slighted. I am a wife and mom, I identify with that but
This is the most ridiculous first world problem ever. I realize that. And you are all fools to read this utter nonsense but because I have sloppy handwriting and I like the sound of typing, I am going to keep on with this blog. You have been warned. Keep reading. Follow my s
Holy shit! No wonder I don't like open water. I was probably on Atlantis when it sunk in the ocean. It makes perfect sense
As I was saying...
Follow my slow decent into madness.
A writer. You should be a writer. I heard that a lot when I wrote the Ashlyn Alerts many years ago. I am a writer. I am not published. No one is buying my work. I am not holding book signings. But I am a writer. I don't pursue the published writer path for many reasons. I have no idea. I love to write like this, just off the cuff with little sense. I have yet to find a subject that I can turn into something more. I don't want the rejection. I am terrified of the rejection. Getting published is no easy feat. I have researched it. I could probably do pretty well with a historical romance, heavy on the petting and light on the historical. Penthouse Forum is always publishing but I don't think they do book signings. All the good wizard, vampire, new world order themed books have been written. Not that I could have thought of any of those. Maybe I will look up to the clouds and find an idea for my novel. Seriously, it may be as easy as that.
I don't think I have used the F word yet in this piece. I am coming to terms with this experience.
The medium did not make me feel less for myself. What is so difficult is to have someone else recognize the struggle that I am having. That makes it real. That is what hurt so much is that I can hide this huge self worth issue from myself, but I can't hide it from someone that is gifted to see inside me. Does that make sense?
Our time ran short and we didn't get to talk much about God. Why is this relationship with God so hard for me? Jesus, just help a sister out! Funny how the more I search for answers the more fucked up I become. BUT my chakra is wide open and that is a good thing.
You are all very sweet to take this ride with me. It is long and rambling and is just how I am going to have to get there. I am not done looking for answers. I may start looking in some odd places. I am still looking for signs and am just a little peeved that God doesn't show up Old Testament style with a burning bush because honestly, I could use a shrub on fire right about now.
Oh, I was a healer. And I feel so broken now.
Anyway, I have to decide what I believe. Do I believe in reincarnation? I don't know. I did have deja vu with my cat once. If I believe in reincarnation than I do believe that the essence of one life would follow to the next. But that also means that I don't believe that the soul immediately goes to heaven. Or maybe the soul multiplies like a single celled amoeba having sex. I don't know. Is this all there is? Is this enough? Is heaven the ultimate goal or is it ashes to ashes and just dust to dust?
Last night began with the medium reading me and opening me up. It was then that she discovered my past. I can take that or leave that. It is fun, it is interesting, it is possible.
I just keep going back to two things that we discussed last night-
My potential. Oh come on, let this go already.
My faith. Yes, we are back to that again.
Does God have a plan for me? Well everyone seems to think so because they say shit like "it is all part of God's plan" or "It wasn't part of God's plan." Tie that up neatly with living to one's potential and worse, that I am living to my potential and I have to wonder why God and I have so little faith in me. If this, and by this, I mean my job, is my potential.
Yes, I am a good wife and fine mother. I am assuming that actually. Danny says nice things about me and stuff, but I can't be really sure. And the kinder do give me hugs and send me texts and get me the perfect gifts. So I must be solid there. And I don't feel like that woman that wonders "is this all there is?" Because I know, for as kick ass wife and mothering is, that isn't all there is and I have never felt like it was or had to be. I have spent a great deal of my life identifying as White's Wife or Ashlyn, Hayley, Jacob's mom. So when the medium talked about me being more than that, I didn't feel like I was being slighted. I am a wife and mom, I identify with that but
This is the most ridiculous first world problem ever. I realize that. And you are all fools to read this utter nonsense but because I have sloppy handwriting and I like the sound of typing, I am going to keep on with this blog. You have been warned. Keep reading. Follow my s
Holy shit! No wonder I don't like open water. I was probably on Atlantis when it sunk in the ocean. It makes perfect sense
As I was saying...
Follow my slow decent into madness.
A writer. You should be a writer. I heard that a lot when I wrote the Ashlyn Alerts many years ago. I am a writer. I am not published. No one is buying my work. I am not holding book signings. But I am a writer. I don't pursue the published writer path for many reasons. I have no idea. I love to write like this, just off the cuff with little sense. I have yet to find a subject that I can turn into something more. I don't want the rejection. I am terrified of the rejection. Getting published is no easy feat. I have researched it. I could probably do pretty well with a historical romance, heavy on the petting and light on the historical. Penthouse Forum is always publishing but I don't think they do book signings. All the good wizard, vampire, new world order themed books have been written. Not that I could have thought of any of those. Maybe I will look up to the clouds and find an idea for my novel. Seriously, it may be as easy as that.
I don't think I have used the F word yet in this piece. I am coming to terms with this experience.
The medium did not make me feel less for myself. What is so difficult is to have someone else recognize the struggle that I am having. That makes it real. That is what hurt so much is that I can hide this huge self worth issue from myself, but I can't hide it from someone that is gifted to see inside me. Does that make sense?
Our time ran short and we didn't get to talk much about God. Why is this relationship with God so hard for me? Jesus, just help a sister out! Funny how the more I search for answers the more fucked up I become. BUT my chakra is wide open and that is a good thing.
You are all very sweet to take this ride with me. It is long and rambling and is just how I am going to have to get there. I am not done looking for answers. I may start looking in some odd places. I am still looking for signs and am just a little peeved that God doesn't show up Old Testament style with a burning bush because honestly, I could use a shrub on fire right about now.
Oh, I was a healer. And I feel so broken now.
Wednesday, September 17, 2014
My Visit to the Medium
Not a God Damn Thing.
I went to a medium tonight with the hopes of talking to my mom, my husband's grandmother and my dogs. That's all. I just wanted to know that all in the afterlife was cool. I wanted to know that my dogs were together and that they were still lolloping about the yard. That's all.
But Fuck No! I learned about some past lives. And yes, I believe in past lives. I don't know if these were my lives but let's go with it.
I was a scientist on Atlantis. I worked for the good of humankind. Too bad I was on a sinking ship, so to speak. I was a man. Very analytical.
I was a native American warrior. I was young. I would watch the clouds for solutions to my problems. I don't watch the clouds much now, sometimes when I am in the pool, but I am not usually looking for answers.
I was a writer in Connecticut. My name was Willa or Wilma. I wrote about the things I wanted to do. My husband died in his fifties and I lived a long life without him.
My Grandma Martin was present. She didn't talk to me, just asked the medium some questions about what was going on. I have no reason to doubt it. In life, she wanted to know what was happening in other people's lives. Not as a gossip, just as a well informed observer. I did not have a sense of her being there.
Man, I really weighed going. After Crissy shared her experience, I wanted to go. I wanted to have some earth shaking, heart lifting moment. But I was afraid. I was afraid that Mom wouldn't be there or would say something disapproving. But I didn't expect this.
How many times can I use the word FUCK in this essay to express my feelings? I hope I was a better writer in Connecticut than I am here today. I cannot even find the words to describe how I am feeling. Empty. Fucking empty. That's better.
It appears that I am audio clairvoyant. I don't want to lay quietly at night and learn the house sounds so that I may hear the voices. I don't ever recall hearing my name when no one was around. I do see the flashes of blond and fawn in the yard. I do not hear their barks or yawns.
I was a healer. In a past life. I do not want to be part of the medical world now. Not one little bit.
In this life I am not living to my potential. Seriously? Like selling beauty supplies is any one's potential. But I really didn't need someone to remind me of this two months before my 45th birthday. Potential ship has already sailed. I have struggled and prayed and searched for what I was meant to do and have never felt a pull or saw a sign or heard a whisper. I don't want to start over. I don't want to keep being reminded that there was more for me and I somehow missed it.
I just wanted some peace in my struggle with faith. I wanted to know that my dogs were ok. I wanted to know I wasn't crazy when I imagined that Rita found Lucy on that awful day six years ago.
My crown chakra is wide open. That is where the god is. I am very spiritual. I don't feel very spiritual. I feel...
It is unbelievable to me that I am this upset. That this reading has left me feeling so terribly alone. I cannot find a better word for it.
I am supposed to make a change. In fact I cannot go back to her until I do. But what kind of change? I am tired of looking. I am tired of feeling like this is the best I am going to be. I am just worn out. Unreal how exhausted I feel. And the shit of it is is that I don't have any place to go to get any more answers.
Scorpios apparently feel more deeply. I always thought I was good at shutting feelings off. I wish I were still that analytical scientist.
I am not even going to proof read this. My sweet ramblings of a night gone terribly off course.
And I don't dismiss this night as craziness or tom foolery. I know there is truth to a lot of what was said. Or maybe this was my visit to the wizard.
Yeah, I don't know. I am exhausted.
I went to a medium tonight with the hopes of talking to my mom, my husband's grandmother and my dogs. That's all. I just wanted to know that all in the afterlife was cool. I wanted to know that my dogs were together and that they were still lolloping about the yard. That's all.
But Fuck No! I learned about some past lives. And yes, I believe in past lives. I don't know if these were my lives but let's go with it.
I was a scientist on Atlantis. I worked for the good of humankind. Too bad I was on a sinking ship, so to speak. I was a man. Very analytical.
I was a native American warrior. I was young. I would watch the clouds for solutions to my problems. I don't watch the clouds much now, sometimes when I am in the pool, but I am not usually looking for answers.
I was a writer in Connecticut. My name was Willa or Wilma. I wrote about the things I wanted to do. My husband died in his fifties and I lived a long life without him.
My Grandma Martin was present. She didn't talk to me, just asked the medium some questions about what was going on. I have no reason to doubt it. In life, she wanted to know what was happening in other people's lives. Not as a gossip, just as a well informed observer. I did not have a sense of her being there.
Man, I really weighed going. After Crissy shared her experience, I wanted to go. I wanted to have some earth shaking, heart lifting moment. But I was afraid. I was afraid that Mom wouldn't be there or would say something disapproving. But I didn't expect this.
How many times can I use the word FUCK in this essay to express my feelings? I hope I was a better writer in Connecticut than I am here today. I cannot even find the words to describe how I am feeling. Empty. Fucking empty. That's better.
It appears that I am audio clairvoyant. I don't want to lay quietly at night and learn the house sounds so that I may hear the voices. I don't ever recall hearing my name when no one was around. I do see the flashes of blond and fawn in the yard. I do not hear their barks or yawns.
I was a healer. In a past life. I do not want to be part of the medical world now. Not one little bit.
In this life I am not living to my potential. Seriously? Like selling beauty supplies is any one's potential. But I really didn't need someone to remind me of this two months before my 45th birthday. Potential ship has already sailed. I have struggled and prayed and searched for what I was meant to do and have never felt a pull or saw a sign or heard a whisper. I don't want to start over. I don't want to keep being reminded that there was more for me and I somehow missed it.
I just wanted some peace in my struggle with faith. I wanted to know that my dogs were ok. I wanted to know I wasn't crazy when I imagined that Rita found Lucy on that awful day six years ago.
My crown chakra is wide open. That is where the god is. I am very spiritual. I don't feel very spiritual. I feel...
It is unbelievable to me that I am this upset. That this reading has left me feeling so terribly alone. I cannot find a better word for it.
I am supposed to make a change. In fact I cannot go back to her until I do. But what kind of change? I am tired of looking. I am tired of feeling like this is the best I am going to be. I am just worn out. Unreal how exhausted I feel. And the shit of it is is that I don't have any place to go to get any more answers.
Scorpios apparently feel more deeply. I always thought I was good at shutting feelings off. I wish I were still that analytical scientist.
I am not even going to proof read this. My sweet ramblings of a night gone terribly off course.
And I don't dismiss this night as craziness or tom foolery. I know there is truth to a lot of what was said. Or maybe this was my visit to the wizard.
Yeah, I don't know. I am exhausted.
Friday, September 5, 2014
Not Fact Checking These Opinions
A lot of shit is happening and yet, Kardashians and fall fashion tips are in my news feed. It saddens me that this is news. Don't get me wrong, I read about famous people and fashion and tiny houses, but that's after I have read about the ebola virus, ISIS, the Ukraine, minimum wage debate. I am by no means educated, but I try, seriously, I do try.
So as the title tells you, I'm not fact checking. These are my opinions that I offer and not so humbly so.
The ebola virus. That shit is for real. I don't understand why we cannot air drop a hundred thousand boxes of gloves? Pony up Walgreens. That is not even $10,000 retail. I am sure that Angelina Jolie would foot the bill for the flight, Bill Gates could cover the parachute. Seriously, when the clinic sink consists of two five gallon buckets and a bottle of bleach, we need to help out. This isn't only Africa's problem anymore. There is a third American victim to be hospitalized in Omaha. Why Omaha? If the CDC hospital already treated two people successfully, maybe they should continue. Minimize the risk of people freaking out (Trump). I kid you not though, I am washing my hands just a little more these days and wiping down the counters. I don't make it a habit of touching other people's bodily fluids but it still is a little crazy to have a disease like this just down the road. All seems very zombie-esque.
CVS doesn't sell cigarettes anymore! Hooray for CVS. They have also changed their name to CVS Health. I like that stand that they have taken. I suppose they will lose some money not that there is much mark up in smokes. It is mostly kick backs from the tobacco companies. But giving up that kick back also means they give up dealing with tobacco stings and the fines that can follow. They may have a little less employee turn over if they don't have to fire someone for failing a sting which equals less training expense with new hire. They will not have to deal with tobacco reps which seem to be some of the nastiest reps in the retail world. There will be less man hours spent on checking in, counting and filling of cigarettes and most importantly, there will no longer be the pain in the ass dealings with people who forgot their ID, have their money in the bar or shoe or meth laced pockets. There will no longer be that POS that throws a brick through the front door to load up on Marlboro Golds in the hard pack. Thumbs up CVS.
McDonalds employees want $15 an hour. That seems fair. Thirty three percent of my orders have not been correct. You should earn that much. OR you get minimum wage, which sucks. Then you show up to work clean and on time. You are pleasant to the customer, get the order right, do the job without complaint and earn more based on your merit. I love that idea! Granted, the current wage of $7.50 is not enough to live off of if you are the sole bread winner for a family of four, but it is plenty to live off of if you are 16. And please don't give me the argument that the wage should be based on age because I can show you many cases where the 16 year old worked harder and better than the adult.
And if the wage is increased, what happens to people like me that are making a living wage, have put in the time and nurtured the talent? Will I get an increase as well? Will my wage double? Probably not. The gap between a new employee and a seasoned one will tighten. The old timers will get pissed having to do more for less. I know I will. And retailers will probably raise the prices to cover this increase in wage. I cannot imagine paying $8 for a quarter pounder meal, no pickle or onion with a sweet tea, no ice just so anyone can make $15 an hour to start at McDonalds.
ISIS. That group of sons of bitches are for real. This is a beast that has to be stopped by any means because they will bring their ruthless fight to us. Lock up our borders. I understand that there are a lot of people south of us that just want the American Dream, but we have to understand that it isn't the pursuit of the American Dream that these assholes are pursing. They are hell bent on blowing the AD up city by city. If there as ever been a time to get our immigration system shored up, this may be it. And I am not advocating racial profiling because the last two photos I have seen of would be "freedom fighters" from America showed a kid that could have graduated with Jacob and a loser that could have worked at McDonalds for $7.50 an hour. Many of ISIS are well educated, well off men. I suppose a fair number are looking for adventure, but most are looking for their 72 virgins post AD destruction. This is no time for pansy assed diplomacy. I don't think this is the time to worry about racial profiling or religious persecution or any of the ACLU touchy feely crap. This is the time to pull up our big kid pants and double tap those sons of bitches.
Let's not forget that these SOB's do not advocate an education for women. They have no regard for the history of the region. They believe that it is their way or the no way. It is times like this that I am reminded of the great American poet, Toby Keith. "This big dog will fight when you rattle his cage." I think two beheadings is more than a rattle. It's gonna get ugly, that's for damn sure.
I truly know nothing about the Ukraine. I know Putin looks like the evil mastermind in just about every spy movie I have ever watched. He's tricky.
Lastly, there is my thoughts on store receipt surveys. It has come to my attention that jobs have been threatened by various corporations because not enough customers/patients/clients are responding to the surveys. This is ridiculous. I am a letter writer. Some folks around these parts call me "Johnny Letter" and I let them. I write (email) companies all the time. Give me great service and I am excited to let the big guys know. I think they usually just hear the bad so I like to toot the horn of positivity! Piss me off and it's on. Make one disparaging remark about my dog and I expecting a gift card or three. But if you give me just regular, run of the mill service than I am going to not email or call because you did what was expected- nothing more or less. But now that I have learned that this threat hangs over the already over burdened heads of store managers, I am a survey taking fool. No one should feel like they may lose their job because John Q. Public does not want to press 9 on his mobile for six to eight minutes with the very slim chance of winning a gift card, or getting five dollars off a purchase of $25 or more or getting free fries and drink (oh wait, I do want that one). John Q. Public wants to get in, get his stuff, get good service and get going. Who are these fucks in upper floors and where do they get these asinine ideas. I know for damn sure that they aren't filling out surveys. Nor are they offering surveys on themselves.
Woo! Feels good to get that off my chest. I'm out.
Oh, I didn't proof read either.
So as the title tells you, I'm not fact checking. These are my opinions that I offer and not so humbly so.
The ebola virus. That shit is for real. I don't understand why we cannot air drop a hundred thousand boxes of gloves? Pony up Walgreens. That is not even $10,000 retail. I am sure that Angelina Jolie would foot the bill for the flight, Bill Gates could cover the parachute. Seriously, when the clinic sink consists of two five gallon buckets and a bottle of bleach, we need to help out. This isn't only Africa's problem anymore. There is a third American victim to be hospitalized in Omaha. Why Omaha? If the CDC hospital already treated two people successfully, maybe they should continue. Minimize the risk of people freaking out (Trump). I kid you not though, I am washing my hands just a little more these days and wiping down the counters. I don't make it a habit of touching other people's bodily fluids but it still is a little crazy to have a disease like this just down the road. All seems very zombie-esque.
CVS doesn't sell cigarettes anymore! Hooray for CVS. They have also changed their name to CVS Health. I like that stand that they have taken. I suppose they will lose some money not that there is much mark up in smokes. It is mostly kick backs from the tobacco companies. But giving up that kick back also means they give up dealing with tobacco stings and the fines that can follow. They may have a little less employee turn over if they don't have to fire someone for failing a sting which equals less training expense with new hire. They will not have to deal with tobacco reps which seem to be some of the nastiest reps in the retail world. There will be less man hours spent on checking in, counting and filling of cigarettes and most importantly, there will no longer be the pain in the ass dealings with people who forgot their ID, have their money in the bar or shoe or meth laced pockets. There will no longer be that POS that throws a brick through the front door to load up on Marlboro Golds in the hard pack. Thumbs up CVS.
McDonalds employees want $15 an hour. That seems fair. Thirty three percent of my orders have not been correct. You should earn that much. OR you get minimum wage, which sucks. Then you show up to work clean and on time. You are pleasant to the customer, get the order right, do the job without complaint and earn more based on your merit. I love that idea! Granted, the current wage of $7.50 is not enough to live off of if you are the sole bread winner for a family of four, but it is plenty to live off of if you are 16. And please don't give me the argument that the wage should be based on age because I can show you many cases where the 16 year old worked harder and better than the adult.
And if the wage is increased, what happens to people like me that are making a living wage, have put in the time and nurtured the talent? Will I get an increase as well? Will my wage double? Probably not. The gap between a new employee and a seasoned one will tighten. The old timers will get pissed having to do more for less. I know I will. And retailers will probably raise the prices to cover this increase in wage. I cannot imagine paying $8 for a quarter pounder meal, no pickle or onion with a sweet tea, no ice just so anyone can make $15 an hour to start at McDonalds.
ISIS. That group of sons of bitches are for real. This is a beast that has to be stopped by any means because they will bring their ruthless fight to us. Lock up our borders. I understand that there are a lot of people south of us that just want the American Dream, but we have to understand that it isn't the pursuit of the American Dream that these assholes are pursing. They are hell bent on blowing the AD up city by city. If there as ever been a time to get our immigration system shored up, this may be it. And I am not advocating racial profiling because the last two photos I have seen of would be "freedom fighters" from America showed a kid that could have graduated with Jacob and a loser that could have worked at McDonalds for $7.50 an hour. Many of ISIS are well educated, well off men. I suppose a fair number are looking for adventure, but most are looking for their 72 virgins post AD destruction. This is no time for pansy assed diplomacy. I don't think this is the time to worry about racial profiling or religious persecution or any of the ACLU touchy feely crap. This is the time to pull up our big kid pants and double tap those sons of bitches.
Let's not forget that these SOB's do not advocate an education for women. They have no regard for the history of the region. They believe that it is their way or the no way. It is times like this that I am reminded of the great American poet, Toby Keith. "This big dog will fight when you rattle his cage." I think two beheadings is more than a rattle. It's gonna get ugly, that's for damn sure.
I truly know nothing about the Ukraine. I know Putin looks like the evil mastermind in just about every spy movie I have ever watched. He's tricky.
Lastly, there is my thoughts on store receipt surveys. It has come to my attention that jobs have been threatened by various corporations because not enough customers/patients/clients are responding to the surveys. This is ridiculous. I am a letter writer. Some folks around these parts call me "Johnny Letter" and I let them. I write (email) companies all the time. Give me great service and I am excited to let the big guys know. I think they usually just hear the bad so I like to toot the horn of positivity! Piss me off and it's on. Make one disparaging remark about my dog and I expecting a gift card or three. But if you give me just regular, run of the mill service than I am going to not email or call because you did what was expected- nothing more or less. But now that I have learned that this threat hangs over the already over burdened heads of store managers, I am a survey taking fool. No one should feel like they may lose their job because John Q. Public does not want to press 9 on his mobile for six to eight minutes with the very slim chance of winning a gift card, or getting five dollars off a purchase of $25 or more or getting free fries and drink (oh wait, I do want that one). John Q. Public wants to get in, get his stuff, get good service and get going. Who are these fucks in upper floors and where do they get these asinine ideas. I know for damn sure that they aren't filling out surveys. Nor are they offering surveys on themselves.
Woo! Feels good to get that off my chest. I'm out.
Oh, I didn't proof read either.
Tuesday, August 26, 2014
I posed a question
Today there was a bit of an issue with two cardboard display boxes thrown in the trash. I stood there asking if he was going to leave those boxes in the trash. Repeating that question very time there was a break in the conversation.
"It really doesn't matter if those boxes get recycled."
"Are you going to leave those boxes in the trash?"
"There are so many people in the world that don't recycle. Do you know the millions of pounds of recycling that goes to the land fill?"
"Are you going to leave those boxes in the trash?"
"When I was at ISU, I took a world populations class and in some countries, men would be escorted into a building and castrated." (I didn't fact check this blog.)
"Are you going to leave those boxes in the trash?"
"As long as people are on the earth, the earth will stay ruined."
"Are you going to leave those boxes in the trash?"
I couldn't stay in the aisle, I had work to do, but I also had a mission to get those boxes out of the trash. I cannot control a lot at work, but I can control where the boxes go that are in my department, this wasn't my department. I am adamant about recycling what we can. I am constantly trying to find new ways to use less. It isn't easy in retail. There are reports to print and notes to write. Nearly everything comes shrink wrapped or boxed, or both. Ask me about Garnier hair products and I will tell you about a company that wastes and removes posts from Facebook. For every five totes of make up I receive, one of those totes is refilled with empty, little boxes. Revlon puts one, just one, carded lip liner in each shipping box. They send a very generic email response when one sends a very passionate one to them. I pointed out the cost savings there is to gain by putting two in a box. Still ships with one.
I bring towels from home to use when shelves are cleaned. I advise the management staff daily when a faucet drips or a toilet leaks. I turn off lights. I thank those that don't take a bag or bring their own bag. I encourage the purchase of products that don't contain microbeads or sulfates. I talk about Dr. Bonners and Shea Moisture.
My options are limited when working for a company that wants to see the company be in the black more than be in the green. There are a lot of greener initiatives happening company wide, but what is mandated and what actually happens are not always the same. People have to give a damn.
I don't know if those two boxes will matter. I doubt that those are the climate changing tipping point that we cannot return from. But maybe they are. Maybe those are the last two boxes that can end up in the landfill. Maybe those are the two boxes that will allow the zombies to rise. I don't know and I am not willing to find out. Zombies will not rise on my cardboard box watch.
I know that the earth is in a world of hurt. I don't know if it can be saved but she is certainly worth fighting for. I try to do my part but I don't come anywhere close to it. How can recycling and turning off lights begin to repay for the flowers in the field, the ocean, the butterflies on a bush?
I do try to walk the walk. And sometimes they realize that I am serious about the boxes in the trash and they take them out and recycle them. Yea Earth!
"It really doesn't matter if those boxes get recycled."
"Are you going to leave those boxes in the trash?"
"There are so many people in the world that don't recycle. Do you know the millions of pounds of recycling that goes to the land fill?"
"Are you going to leave those boxes in the trash?"
"When I was at ISU, I took a world populations class and in some countries, men would be escorted into a building and castrated." (I didn't fact check this blog.)
"Are you going to leave those boxes in the trash?"
"As long as people are on the earth, the earth will stay ruined."
"Are you going to leave those boxes in the trash?"
I couldn't stay in the aisle, I had work to do, but I also had a mission to get those boxes out of the trash. I cannot control a lot at work, but I can control where the boxes go that are in my department, this wasn't my department. I am adamant about recycling what we can. I am constantly trying to find new ways to use less. It isn't easy in retail. There are reports to print and notes to write. Nearly everything comes shrink wrapped or boxed, or both. Ask me about Garnier hair products and I will tell you about a company that wastes and removes posts from Facebook. For every five totes of make up I receive, one of those totes is refilled with empty, little boxes. Revlon puts one, just one, carded lip liner in each shipping box. They send a very generic email response when one sends a very passionate one to them. I pointed out the cost savings there is to gain by putting two in a box. Still ships with one.
I bring towels from home to use when shelves are cleaned. I advise the management staff daily when a faucet drips or a toilet leaks. I turn off lights. I thank those that don't take a bag or bring their own bag. I encourage the purchase of products that don't contain microbeads or sulfates. I talk about Dr. Bonners and Shea Moisture.
My options are limited when working for a company that wants to see the company be in the black more than be in the green. There are a lot of greener initiatives happening company wide, but what is mandated and what actually happens are not always the same. People have to give a damn.
I don't know if those two boxes will matter. I doubt that those are the climate changing tipping point that we cannot return from. But maybe they are. Maybe those are the last two boxes that can end up in the landfill. Maybe those are the two boxes that will allow the zombies to rise. I don't know and I am not willing to find out. Zombies will not rise on my cardboard box watch.
I know that the earth is in a world of hurt. I don't know if it can be saved but she is certainly worth fighting for. I try to do my part but I don't come anywhere close to it. How can recycling and turning off lights begin to repay for the flowers in the field, the ocean, the butterflies on a bush?
I do try to walk the walk. And sometimes they realize that I am serious about the boxes in the trash and they take them out and recycle them. Yea Earth!
Monday, August 25, 2014
Misty Watered Colored Memories
My brother, Bobby and his wife Sarah have been visiting the family for almost a month now. I will have only seen them a couple of times because life gets in the way. We spent nearly two weeks with them in New Zealand back in February so seeing them again so soon is such a treat.
Bobby is the oldest, nine years older than me. He was frequently my care giver. I remember being ridden down to Redmond Park in the summer for Tot Lot. I remember watching Abbott and Costello on Sunday mornings when everyone else had gone to Mass. I remember when the recruiter came to take Bobby away. He never really came back after that. I don't realize how much I miss him until he is back. Even with all the time and miles, a girl still needs to have someone to watch Abbott and Costello with.
With the Kiwi Snow visit came Jacob's CRapids graduation party. Again, I get all teary eyed thinking about my little guy going off to college. I think I handled it all pretty well until we actually moved him in and then it just became too much in many different ways.
Today is the actual first day of school for both Hayley and Jacob. This is Hayley's last first day of school. I sometimes think she has already graduated in her mind and is trying to figure out the day after graduation. Hayley has a plan. Plans don't always pan out. I hope she is prepared for that. Don't rush this last year. Enjoy it. You can always bunk here until the earth feels steady and you are ready to move on.
Our old CRapids house is for sale. Couldn't time the visit for the open house. I would love to walk through there again. Just to see.
On Sunday, I went to my Aunt Margaret's house for a family gathering to sort through old photos that were at my grandma's house. It was wonderful. All of my mom's siblings were there. I always get just a little pissed off at the world when I see them healthy and of sharp mind and wonder why did Mom get dementia? Why couldn't she have stayed as brilliant as the rest? Being with The Sisters, as they are called by my children, is as close as I will ever get to my mom. There is such comfort in their hugs, in their voices, in their stories. I always come away a little fuller.
I found a photo of the orginial Barron, my grandparents dog. It was very cool to see an old friend. I also found a photo of my grandpa holding me, I was pretty brand new. It was probably the only time I was happy to be held by him. I did not always see eye to eye with the man.
I learned that Sister Alice, my second grade teacher, died recently. She was in a retirement home for nuns in Omaha. She was in her ninties. I have fond memories of her. She gave me a little book of paintings by Renoir on her last day of teaching at IC. I still have the book.
I'm glad that I have Monday mornings off as they allow for some rebound time from the weekend. This Monday morning I am rebounding emotionally from just so much joy. I have a warm fuzzy that should last all week. I won't see Bobby and Sarah again before they head home. Hayley and Brett will be the last of the White's to represent. I will not get to hear all about the first day of school from either of my kinder as the bus doesn't drop them off here anymore. I have to wait a month to go through the photos again as Crissy will bring the box down for me to pick through and scan in. I have a family tree program that is ever expanding.
More than anything, I am struck by my good fortune. In this week, really in these two days, I can see where I came from and I can see where the future is headed. It is pretty cool to see where hard work and love can bring a family. I think my own kinder know that hard work and love that was put in to get them close to where they are going.
Bobby is the oldest, nine years older than me. He was frequently my care giver. I remember being ridden down to Redmond Park in the summer for Tot Lot. I remember watching Abbott and Costello on Sunday mornings when everyone else had gone to Mass. I remember when the recruiter came to take Bobby away. He never really came back after that. I don't realize how much I miss him until he is back. Even with all the time and miles, a girl still needs to have someone to watch Abbott and Costello with.
With the Kiwi Snow visit came Jacob's CRapids graduation party. Again, I get all teary eyed thinking about my little guy going off to college. I think I handled it all pretty well until we actually moved him in and then it just became too much in many different ways.
Today is the actual first day of school for both Hayley and Jacob. This is Hayley's last first day of school. I sometimes think she has already graduated in her mind and is trying to figure out the day after graduation. Hayley has a plan. Plans don't always pan out. I hope she is prepared for that. Don't rush this last year. Enjoy it. You can always bunk here until the earth feels steady and you are ready to move on.
Our old CRapids house is for sale. Couldn't time the visit for the open house. I would love to walk through there again. Just to see.
On Sunday, I went to my Aunt Margaret's house for a family gathering to sort through old photos that were at my grandma's house. It was wonderful. All of my mom's siblings were there. I always get just a little pissed off at the world when I see them healthy and of sharp mind and wonder why did Mom get dementia? Why couldn't she have stayed as brilliant as the rest? Being with The Sisters, as they are called by my children, is as close as I will ever get to my mom. There is such comfort in their hugs, in their voices, in their stories. I always come away a little fuller.
I found a photo of the orginial Barron, my grandparents dog. It was very cool to see an old friend. I also found a photo of my grandpa holding me, I was pretty brand new. It was probably the only time I was happy to be held by him. I did not always see eye to eye with the man.
I learned that Sister Alice, my second grade teacher, died recently. She was in a retirement home for nuns in Omaha. She was in her ninties. I have fond memories of her. She gave me a little book of paintings by Renoir on her last day of teaching at IC. I still have the book.
I'm glad that I have Monday mornings off as they allow for some rebound time from the weekend. This Monday morning I am rebounding emotionally from just so much joy. I have a warm fuzzy that should last all week. I won't see Bobby and Sarah again before they head home. Hayley and Brett will be the last of the White's to represent. I will not get to hear all about the first day of school from either of my kinder as the bus doesn't drop them off here anymore. I have to wait a month to go through the photos again as Crissy will bring the box down for me to pick through and scan in. I have a family tree program that is ever expanding.
More than anything, I am struck by my good fortune. In this week, really in these two days, I can see where I came from and I can see where the future is headed. It is pretty cool to see where hard work and love can bring a family. I think my own kinder know that hard work and love that was put in to get them close to where they are going.
Wednesday, August 20, 2014
News At 11
If you saw my cryptic post on Facebook earlier today, I am sure you were maybe concerned, but definitely curious about what this day held.
Today started with a furious storm. Lying in bed listening to the thunder and rain lashing the windows, I only thought of it being moving day. Moving day for Jacob. We had packed up most of the cars the night before so there wasn't much to do this morning until we got to Iowa State. Jacob left before us taking his chances when the rain broke.
We arrived a couple hours later and much of the room was put together. Jacob is rooming with two of his buddies. They seemed to have worked out who was bringing what and it appeared that Jacob brought the nonsense. I will admit that I am worried, worried that there will be room for all the gaming systems and that they will be able to sort out all the cords. Worried that Jacob will OD on the fantastic chocolate milk at the dining hall. Worried that, well, just worried, I guess. We did not stay long as Jacob and roommates needed to figure it all out for themselves.
Before I get to the rest of the day, I want to just work through the idea of my youngest going off to college. I am not really sad. This is the goal, right? To prepare the offspring to leave the house and go. Danny and I have always stressed that we wanted our children to be successful. Not rich, not famous, just successful. Meaning that they do what they enjoy. College was always something we discussed, but we also discussed the military and trade schools. We were always honest about the bill being theirs but so is the accomplishment. I cannot take any claim to the success or failure of college. This is all them. So I bade Jacob a fond so long today knowing that we have done as much as we could to prepare him for this day. Jacob will figure it out. He will learn to set his priorities, he will learn to do homework first and have fun immediately after. He will learn to eat well and not too often. He will learn to live with roommates, the first time ever. He will.
I had different worries about Ashlyn and Hayley. Worries that pertained to each of them. Worries that were unnecessary as I am sure my worries for Jacob are as well.
We offered Jacob lunch and that was the most important decision we made all day.
Village Inn, because Jacob wanted pancakes.
While waiting for our table, an elderly couple came in and Danny and Jacob offered up their seat on the bench. I have the terrible habit of people watching. I watched as this little lady grabbed the flap on the back pocket of her husband's pants. I thought it was cute. The second time I looked over at them, he was sitting in the chair looking out at the restaurant and she was reaching for her purse on the floor. But she wasn't. She had slumped over and wasn't ok. I immediately got Danny who rushed to her. She was not breathing. Danny had them call 911 and with the help of the manager, laid her on the floor and began performing CPR.
There are many sides to all of us. I have the front side and the back side, the sweet and the snarky. That's pretty much it. I can live with that. I'm no hero.
I have seen a few of Danny's sides. I have never seen the Marine or Ranger in action, for that I am thankful. I have never seen full on police officer either. I have seen enough of that though to get the idea. But today I saw the lifesaving training kick into gear. It was very emotional. She wasn't breathing. Her heartbeat was very weak. Her husband sat on the bench just watching two complete strangers do chest compressions on his wife. I could not have been more proud of Danny. It was very overwhelming.
One family waiting for a table had to leave. Jacob said that the girl in the group was very upset. Another dad said to his son that "we picked the wrong place to eat." Another woman, while chest compressions were in progress, asked where she should pay. Jacob held the door for the first responders, I stood waiting for instructions and then sat with her husband. Danny saved her life.
Ames police and paramedics said that she had a strong heartbeat when they had her in the ambulance.
Jacob, after it had all calmed down and we were seated, looked at me and said "people need to know that this is what they do. When someone says 'fuck the police', they need to know that this is what they do. Dad didn't have to do anything, he is a dad taking his kid to school. But he did, he saved her life because that is what they do." Jacob makes a very valid point.
So that was our very interesting day. We are exhausted. Watching someone save a life is very tiring. I am impressed with the response time and professionalism of the Ames police department and paramedics. I am appreciative that Village Inn paid for our meal. I am beyond grateful that Danny is well trained and is willing to rush in when I people watch.
In other news, Emmitt is glad that Ashlyn in home. Ashlyn had a quick little get away with the Kiwi Snows and Crissy and Duncan. They went to Chicago and Ashlyn got to Mata Trader and came home with two new frocks and two new tops. Fair Trade!!!
Hayley is ready for her final year to start. She is trying to have a bit of a plan for the future but it is hard. She knows that there is always a place here for her to rest and regroup.
On another note, I found myself bitching about my job again. I hate that I do that.
We have some home improvement projects that we will be starting soon. Carpet coming up and flooring going down. We have Ashlyn here so the nest isn't empty, but with her two jobs, it is not full. And with Jacob away and Harlow gone, it is far too quiet.
Today started with a furious storm. Lying in bed listening to the thunder and rain lashing the windows, I only thought of it being moving day. Moving day for Jacob. We had packed up most of the cars the night before so there wasn't much to do this morning until we got to Iowa State. Jacob left before us taking his chances when the rain broke.
We arrived a couple hours later and much of the room was put together. Jacob is rooming with two of his buddies. They seemed to have worked out who was bringing what and it appeared that Jacob brought the nonsense. I will admit that I am worried, worried that there will be room for all the gaming systems and that they will be able to sort out all the cords. Worried that Jacob will OD on the fantastic chocolate milk at the dining hall. Worried that, well, just worried, I guess. We did not stay long as Jacob and roommates needed to figure it all out for themselves.
Before I get to the rest of the day, I want to just work through the idea of my youngest going off to college. I am not really sad. This is the goal, right? To prepare the offspring to leave the house and go. Danny and I have always stressed that we wanted our children to be successful. Not rich, not famous, just successful. Meaning that they do what they enjoy. College was always something we discussed, but we also discussed the military and trade schools. We were always honest about the bill being theirs but so is the accomplishment. I cannot take any claim to the success or failure of college. This is all them. So I bade Jacob a fond so long today knowing that we have done as much as we could to prepare him for this day. Jacob will figure it out. He will learn to set his priorities, he will learn to do homework first and have fun immediately after. He will learn to eat well and not too often. He will learn to live with roommates, the first time ever. He will.
I had different worries about Ashlyn and Hayley. Worries that pertained to each of them. Worries that were unnecessary as I am sure my worries for Jacob are as well.
We offered Jacob lunch and that was the most important decision we made all day.
Village Inn, because Jacob wanted pancakes.
While waiting for our table, an elderly couple came in and Danny and Jacob offered up their seat on the bench. I have the terrible habit of people watching. I watched as this little lady grabbed the flap on the back pocket of her husband's pants. I thought it was cute. The second time I looked over at them, he was sitting in the chair looking out at the restaurant and she was reaching for her purse on the floor. But she wasn't. She had slumped over and wasn't ok. I immediately got Danny who rushed to her. She was not breathing. Danny had them call 911 and with the help of the manager, laid her on the floor and began performing CPR.
There are many sides to all of us. I have the front side and the back side, the sweet and the snarky. That's pretty much it. I can live with that. I'm no hero.
I have seen a few of Danny's sides. I have never seen the Marine or Ranger in action, for that I am thankful. I have never seen full on police officer either. I have seen enough of that though to get the idea. But today I saw the lifesaving training kick into gear. It was very emotional. She wasn't breathing. Her heartbeat was very weak. Her husband sat on the bench just watching two complete strangers do chest compressions on his wife. I could not have been more proud of Danny. It was very overwhelming.
One family waiting for a table had to leave. Jacob said that the girl in the group was very upset. Another dad said to his son that "we picked the wrong place to eat." Another woman, while chest compressions were in progress, asked where she should pay. Jacob held the door for the first responders, I stood waiting for instructions and then sat with her husband. Danny saved her life.
Ames police and paramedics said that she had a strong heartbeat when they had her in the ambulance.
Jacob, after it had all calmed down and we were seated, looked at me and said "people need to know that this is what they do. When someone says 'fuck the police', they need to know that this is what they do. Dad didn't have to do anything, he is a dad taking his kid to school. But he did, he saved her life because that is what they do." Jacob makes a very valid point.
So that was our very interesting day. We are exhausted. Watching someone save a life is very tiring. I am impressed with the response time and professionalism of the Ames police department and paramedics. I am appreciative that Village Inn paid for our meal. I am beyond grateful that Danny is well trained and is willing to rush in when I people watch.
In other news, Emmitt is glad that Ashlyn in home. Ashlyn had a quick little get away with the Kiwi Snows and Crissy and Duncan. They went to Chicago and Ashlyn got to Mata Trader and came home with two new frocks and two new tops. Fair Trade!!!
Hayley is ready for her final year to start. She is trying to have a bit of a plan for the future but it is hard. She knows that there is always a place here for her to rest and regroup.
On another note, I found myself bitching about my job again. I hate that I do that.
We have some home improvement projects that we will be starting soon. Carpet coming up and flooring going down. We have Ashlyn here so the nest isn't empty, but with her two jobs, it is not full. And with Jacob away and Harlow gone, it is far too quiet.
Sunday, August 10, 2014
Another One of Those Religion Blogs
Conversation the other day between me and a twenty year old Bosnian Muslim was fascinating. He had a lot of questions for me and I, a lot for him. It was pretty sad that we couldn't answer most of them. In the course of our conversation though, he said some very interesting things. I don't know if they are facts, when it comes to religion, I don't know if there are many facts. He told me that there are not versions of the Koran. Translations, but not versions. I told him that I can look up a bible verse online and get ten different interpretations of it. Some varying greatly from others. He said that it was not as easy for him to manipulate the words in his favor as it seems others can do. TRUE! How else can people take a religion of love and turn it into hate?
And why does believing get more frustrating for me? Where has that peace gone?
I remember a nun telling me that if one was not baptized, they would not go to heaven. That is pretty heavy stuff for a child of no more than third grade to hear. More so when the child has non catholic friends and had a non catholic grandmother die many years before. I know now that isn't true but for a kid of eight or nine, that is heavy. And I wonder if this was the beginning of my struggle?
It is hard to look out in the world and see the positive of religion. Mighty fine building built in the name of God, I'll give you that, but I don't know what else. War. Genocide. Loss of culture. Hate. Yeah, a lot of hate.
I think a lot of my current frustrations come from the liberal use of Christian and then attaching it to something of hate. People that have Christian values but zero tolerance for illegal immigrants. I haven't much tolerance for illegal immigrants but I also don't have much in the way of Christian values. And maybe I am putting Christian values into a political light because I know there are those that live and breathe the Christian values and just love.
Most of all, why does this bother me so much? Am I just looking at all the stuff other people do that I deem unchristian or ungodly so I don't have to look at myself? Am I pissed off that another round of war and hate is going strong in the Mideast and it is in the name of religion? And our Christian nation says let them work it out, keep Ebola patients in Africa, not my problem...but when someone wants their birth control paid for, Christian Values banners are flown from the highest hill.
Can we be good Christians when we sell crap from China knowing that those people don't make a living wage and cannot worship freely, when we bulldoze forests for a Chick Fil A and Wal Mart, when we belittle the cashier, the clerk, the guy taking our order?
I think heaven is open to everyone who wants to find peace there. I think Barron and Harlow will be there, waiting because they are the closest thing to God's presence that I have known in my adult life. I think God is tired of my whiny baby act and would appreciate it if I would find my purpose and get on with it. It is obvious that He isn't going to show me is plan for me, if in fact He has one. I don't believe that there is a special plan for all of us. If there was, why would little girls die of horrible diseases and why would mothers have to bury their boys because they couldn't keep them safe. That all seems too cruel to be part of a plan.
And my dear friends Kari and Jeff, I still am muddling through The Story. It has not made things easier, in fact, when reading of all the war and killing and hamstringing, it has made it worse. I come away thinking there was plenty of opportunity to have the promised land and maybe it was just wasn't part of the plan to keep it. But I am forever grateful that you are concerned for my heart and soul.
I am still trying to figure it all out and am at times equally envious and angry at my mom's faith. It would have been nice if she and I could have shared it more. I want to just believe and stop with all the wondering. I want- much like a selfish child. Am I going to be smited? Am I going to develop boils? Am I going to continue to be misreable in this aspect of my life until I can find some peace? No, no, yes.
It is with our free will that we will continue to muck things up. God doesn't want us to be misreable, but the forces of the world are in motion and until we can improve those forces, misery is some of our lot. Will me not buying crap from Target change the lives of someone in the asian garment industry? Probably not, but choosing to buy from a fair trade company will begin to change the lives of someone in the asian garment industry. I guess maybe being Christian isn't what I am after, but being human is.
Anyway, another religion ramble. I write enough of these and people will unfriend me.
He also couldn't understand how people couldn't believe in God. We got into a minor discussion of evolution and it impressed me that even though he didn't quite buy what I was selling, he listened without telling me I was wrong or stupid or a sinner. Maybe people don't believe in God so that they can never be disappointed by Him.
Do I not believe so that I won't be disappointed? Do I hope that God really doesn't have a plan for me, that He is a distant observer - hopeful that we will get our heads out of our asses and straighten the world out - but isn't going to start fixing things. Do I believe that we were given free will and that God didn't "harden Pharaoh's heart" (pg 50 The Story). Because if Paraoh was this way because God made him that way than he really isn't the bad guy but just a pawn. That would be pretty dirty. Am I really prepared to believe that a centuries old story gives justification to war? And why does believing get more frustrating for me? Where has that peace gone?
I remember a nun telling me that if one was not baptized, they would not go to heaven. That is pretty heavy stuff for a child of no more than third grade to hear. More so when the child has non catholic friends and had a non catholic grandmother die many years before. I know now that isn't true but for a kid of eight or nine, that is heavy. And I wonder if this was the beginning of my struggle?
It is hard to look out in the world and see the positive of religion. Mighty fine building built in the name of God, I'll give you that, but I don't know what else. War. Genocide. Loss of culture. Hate. Yeah, a lot of hate.
I think a lot of my current frustrations come from the liberal use of Christian and then attaching it to something of hate. People that have Christian values but zero tolerance for illegal immigrants. I haven't much tolerance for illegal immigrants but I also don't have much in the way of Christian values. And maybe I am putting Christian values into a political light because I know there are those that live and breathe the Christian values and just love.
Most of all, why does this bother me so much? Am I just looking at all the stuff other people do that I deem unchristian or ungodly so I don't have to look at myself? Am I pissed off that another round of war and hate is going strong in the Mideast and it is in the name of religion? And our Christian nation says let them work it out, keep Ebola patients in Africa, not my problem...but when someone wants their birth control paid for, Christian Values banners are flown from the highest hill.
Can we be good Christians when we sell crap from China knowing that those people don't make a living wage and cannot worship freely, when we bulldoze forests for a Chick Fil A and Wal Mart, when we belittle the cashier, the clerk, the guy taking our order?
I think heaven is open to everyone who wants to find peace there. I think Barron and Harlow will be there, waiting because they are the closest thing to God's presence that I have known in my adult life. I think God is tired of my whiny baby act and would appreciate it if I would find my purpose and get on with it. It is obvious that He isn't going to show me is plan for me, if in fact He has one. I don't believe that there is a special plan for all of us. If there was, why would little girls die of horrible diseases and why would mothers have to bury their boys because they couldn't keep them safe. That all seems too cruel to be part of a plan.
And my dear friends Kari and Jeff, I still am muddling through The Story. It has not made things easier, in fact, when reading of all the war and killing and hamstringing, it has made it worse. I come away thinking there was plenty of opportunity to have the promised land and maybe it was just wasn't part of the plan to keep it. But I am forever grateful that you are concerned for my heart and soul.
I am still trying to figure it all out and am at times equally envious and angry at my mom's faith. It would have been nice if she and I could have shared it more. I want to just believe and stop with all the wondering. I want- much like a selfish child. Am I going to be smited? Am I going to develop boils? Am I going to continue to be misreable in this aspect of my life until I can find some peace? No, no, yes.
It is with our free will that we will continue to muck things up. God doesn't want us to be misreable, but the forces of the world are in motion and until we can improve those forces, misery is some of our lot. Will me not buying crap from Target change the lives of someone in the asian garment industry? Probably not, but choosing to buy from a fair trade company will begin to change the lives of someone in the asian garment industry. I guess maybe being Christian isn't what I am after, but being human is.
Anyway, another religion ramble. I write enough of these and people will unfriend me.
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