Tuesday, Tuesday, Tuesday

In case any one cares, I did buy some new clothes yesterday. It was nice.

They're comfortable and a little girly which is helpful, as I'm a woman as opposed to a man dressed like a woman.

Not much other news. Watched This Film is Not Yet Rated. Pretty interesting shit.

Random Tuesday thoughts: I can't decide what to get my dad for Father's Day. He doesn't fit into the "Golf or BBQ dad like all the ads want us to believe. Nor is he into the technology aspect and besides he's already got a nano he ignores.

He did send me his first text message, which was awesome.

Anyway, any thoughts?

So

I was just at the mall getting a Starbucks and decided to check out the new clothing line by Sarah Jessica Parker at Steve and Barry's.

Surprisingly nice feeling clothes and very affordable. It made me itch for a shopping spree. I think I'm heading back after work.

Why? Because I want to. Lately, that's my new thing. If I want to do something, I'm gonna damn well do it.

Other things about me:

1. I'm a diet coke person.
2. I'm also an Adidas person. Get your Nike shit away from me.
3. Today I started my new weight routine and my muscles are sore. This is good.
4. Having lunch with Tonya today.
5.And I have to leave this blog to go look for a haircut for Friday. I'm forgoing my usual lady for this new person, but only because I've got some free spa dollars to use up.

Looking forward to my dad returning from up north so I can have a visit.

Whirl Weekend

This weekend has been pretty nice.

My dad is spending a few days up north with my mom and his brothers and sisters so that's good. I know he's getting lots of visits and spending some time at the local casino.

As for me well, Friday night I had dinner with Becky and then we hung out at a bookstore for a while, and it was nice to catch up.

Saturday morning Shane came to my gym to give me a new weight routine, which we're calling "The Resurrection." I'm hopeful that I can jump off my weight loss plateau and I know that I need the outlet of the gym more than ever right now.

Eager to get there Monday morning, which is always a good sign. After the gym we had a delicious breakfast at Cafe Havana in Royal Oak.

Then later I left for Detroit for Nevada's Wino and Cheese Party which was lots of cheap wine and orange food products. I partied like a 23 year old and that felt good.

But since I'm not 23, today I'm a bit tired. Took a nap and a shower and decided to go see Oceans 13.

I liked it. It was as good as Oceans 11 I thought and as a bonus there was no Julia Roberts. :)

And my Aunt Pat mailed me a dvd all about my dad, one of her cool family video projects. I've already watched it 3 times. I love it. The pictures, the choice of music is awesome.

Tomorrow is the start of a new week and I'm hoping I can take things in stride as much as possible.

Thoughts over Pancakes

Maybe life's greatest stories stem from the jobs you didn't get and the boys who left you so you'd end up with a man.

This is Spinal Tap

Stellar week.

Do I believe in fate and destiny? Perhaps to a certain extent. Do I think a huge disappointment will ultimately lead me to a much more fulfilling life?

Maybe I do.

But the funny part is that sort of clarity only happens after the next great thing occurs, so I can think: "Oh and that's why that happened?"

I do know this week that I've made some great friends in this town. And perhaps my path crossed with them so I could do more in my future. They fill in gaps. They drink with me, dance, listen, but most importantly they show up.

But cancer? No. That just fucking sucks.

The Vietnam War? I got a bone to pick with you. I don't need to be a political activist to understand that the war ruined the best part of my father.

And what does he get for bravely enlisting when others ran?

Exposure to Agent Orange and now spinal cancer.

Lung cancer+ throat cancer+ spinal cancer+= No more treatment available.

Do you think our government is standing up saying "we're sorry. What can we do?"

No.

What my dad got for his bravery and his heart and soul was a few dollars which got shrunk down to nothing when he was deemed healthy enough to return to work.

He can't work. His job was very physical. He climbed trees. Manned chain saws. Swung from ropes.

We're gonna fight for the rest of his benefits so my dad may enjoy whatever time is allowed to travel. To see things. To smoke if he wants. Have a drink.

The motto of the United States Marine Corp: The few. The Proud. The Marines.

My dad is proud. He is brave. He is dying.

He is mine. He is my brothers.

He is Loved.

Mourning Sickness

You know how writing makes you feel like you forgot to get dressed?

That's what this entry is gonna be like for me. But one thing I've learned is that writing helps me deal with stuff and speaking the truth isn't easy or pretty but it is necessary.

So here goes. My dad I know I've mentioned him a time or two in this space, well he's been dealing with cancer since 2003. And this past Tuesday we got the news that I never wanted to hear. MY dad's cancer has gone into his spine.

There is no more treatment. Just a management of pain medication from now till later.

We weren't given a time table and I know myself, I don't need a time table. I will miss him for the rest of my life. I'll mourn him and his absence so I'm certain I don't need a ticking clock over my head to tell me, I better cram in all my visits, I better commit every conversation to memory as if it were our last.

This I already know.

I'm hoping to talk to him about taking a trip someplace. Hopefully Ireland.

I don't know what else to say. I'll do this one day at time, minute by minute if that's what it takes.

Memorial Day

I'm back. Back to work.

Spent the weekend up north. First it was to see Kathleen in Roscommon. We had a good visit and it was really nice to break up my drive into 2 easy parts. There's something about family. A shorthand where you don't have to fill in all the blanks, but they help you deal with cracks in the family shell.

Then it was onto Lake Leelanau to see my mom. We went to an Estate sale, had lunch at the Cheese Shanty (awesome sandwiches)pretty much trolled around town and hung out. When we got home we had a great steak dinner.

The next day was more of the same and then my brother, his girlfriend and his friend Jeff came up to surprise us. That was cool. We all hung out, went to TC and did not a whole lot of anything but it was fun just the same.

Yesterday we went on a nature walk, breakfast at the bakery and sun-bathing on the deck.

And of course since it was the nicest day of the weekend, it was naturally the day that I had to drive home. I packed up and headed home mid afternoon. Expecting horrible traffic, I was pleasantly surprised to find myself zipping right along.

Even managed to stop at the outlet mall where I got a new pair of tennis shoes and some workout clothes.

A good weekend, a nice kick off to summer.

Cowboy Redford

Breakfast of champions:

Half a soft pretzel. Wasn't feeling the wheaties.

Oh well, some days are like that. I've got a healthy lunch with lots of veggies and fruits to counteract the pretzel bite.

Watched The Electric Horseman last night. It's about a rodeo star who's not as popular anymore, so he ends up running off with the prize winning horse when he finds he's being mistreated.

Starring you guessed it, Robert Redford. I'm sucker for him, for his acting, for his subtle and always interesting roles.

It also had Jane Fonda in it as a reporter who chases him on the run.

Willie Nelson is in it and sings, "Don't Let your Babies Grow up to Be Cowboys."

All in all a good movie.

What's Your Sign

This morning after I woke up and dragged myself to the gym, I was driving to Walgreens to pick up a few items. Across the street in yet another strip mall was an optical shop. The name of said shop? Eye Iota.

I wouldn't ever set foot in such a stupid sounding business. Just couldn't do it. There was a salad bar place in Atlanta when I was living there, called Lettuce Surprise You.

First off that's just a terrible pun, and secondly I don't think the word surprise should ever be included in a salad bar.

My point is, I guess I'm picky.

I notice signage, I read table cards at restaurants, I will notice a well-crafted headline on a napkin. This is part of the job. Life of a copywriter is one where you'll never casually look through an ad in a magazine.

If it's well done, I stop and read. And if it's horrible I often imagine how things must've went south after the client meeting. Or the creatives tasked with the job had there hands tied the whole time, and thus ended up with something like this:

A diversity ad for a job fair. The visual? A big rubber band ball with you guessed it, multi-colored rubber bands. The headline: Diversity: It's what bands us together.

True story. I didn't write that line. I was forced to put it in the ad by a controlling client, whom I have no idea what happened to them.

Perhaps they took a job at Hallmark. Or maybe they're out shopping at Talking Book World (another good title ).

One More

I'm numb today. Numb to bad news, impending sadness. My dad called me last night as I was laying in bed reading, to check in. To tell me how his latest doctor's appointment had gone.

It seems the doctors now suspect that he may have cancer in his spine. His spine. We don't know what they're going to say, what the doctors if anything can come up with.

All I know is that cancer is a roller coaster of the worst kind. It's brought me to my knees in both devastation and prayer. For every good report there seem to be 4 bad ones waiting around the corner.

And what could I do when he told me such news in the way that only my dad could. Blunt and to the point. He's always been a man that doesn't mince words. I admire and find that fearful at the same time.

He told me that he was glad it was him that was going through this and not me. He said, I'd had to fight too hard to live when I was born so prematurely.

I should've died then. And he can't die now. I feel like cancer is a floating balloon above my head, but I can't let go of the string.

When I was little, I used to call him Daddy Quinlan and he let me stand on his feet while we danced. Now I call him dad, but I don't want the song to be over yet.

We've only just begun.

Which Doctor

Thursday Morning. Me. The skin doctor. The cancer. A show-down.

It'll be nice to see what they say about the whole thing. Patch me up and send me on my way.

Last night, I got to hang out with my friend Rachel and her two kids. We had dinner, hung out and made Jimi Hendrix out of clay. And oh yes, he was purple.

Not much news. Shane is coming over Saturday for another gym tutorial. I need a new weight routine. I've started making progress with my whole spring clutter clean out.

Many closets and surfaces to go, but one pile at a time.

Maybe tonight, I'll get somewhere since the weather isn't good.

Write, Write

It would be completely unoriginal for me to point out that it is Friday and this has me feeling pretty happy.

So instead I'll say, I had a nice conversation with Shane this morning, the sun is out, I can sleep in tomorrow, and it looks like the best season in Michigan is here.

Other than that, this weekend, I'd like to get a visit with my dad, go find a dress for Tonya's wedding, and start trying (again) to clean out some spring clutter. From closets, to bookcases, to desk-tops. I need to carve out some time with my laptop to get some words down for next week's writing group meeting.

I haven't written in so long and writing used to be my salavation and now I've lost it or its lost me.

And with that, I'm off like a prom dress.

This Just In

Random things about me:

1. I wear a watch almost every day. My brother bought it for me, and it's a silver man type watch, but I never have the time set correctly.

2. I just got diagnosed with Skin Cancer. I'm awaiting my visit to the dermatologist. I was freaked out, but am doing a little better now. I did find out that it is National Skin Cancer Awareness Month, so please go get checked. I had no idea that I had anything wrong with me. Luckily a friend was looking out for me and noticed something wasn't right. Take advantage of the free skin screenings this month. Please. Hopping off my soap-box now.

3. Got some really nice sunblock from Clinque and the woman at the counter was really kind to me, and helped me find some good sunblock. I love the Clinque counter, so I figured anything that can make this situation a little brighter was well worth it. I've got some for my face that is a nice base to be worn under make-up.

4. In the last week while I was home sick, I've watched the following: Countless episodes of Beverly Hills 90210 season 2, Little Children, Entourage, Rocky III, and Sex and the City.

5. I've started reading books again. Read One for the Money, and Two for the Dough a series of books about a female bounty hunter by Janet Evanovich. Light, fun, and a perfect distraction.

6. Last night I bought 2 yes 2 songs by the GO Go's, and one from Henry Mancini on itunes.

7. My left foot is asleep and is buzzing right now.

8. My dad went into the hospital and is out again. Sick with his own cancer but is doing ok at the moment.

9. Shane forgot about me and saw Spiderman 3 without me. I am hoping to catch it soon.

10.Every time I listen to Cat Stevens, it makes me want to quit my job, buy a long skirt twirl in a field and teach kindergarten.

Sick of sick

I've been out of commission since the middle of last week. Some spring cold/flu ick thing, that's kept me imobile at home for the past 4 or 5 days.

Today was the day, I had to come back to the work force. Not so much had too but decided I couldn't stay at home anymore. I still don't feel quite right. I'm still more tired than I should be, and there's still a haze over my day and I can't wait to go take a nap, and I'm hoping the cough that takes over me stops disturbing all the neighbors.

Baby steps I suppose. Ah well. A work in progress I am. Besides there has been no work I've missed, and if I'm typing it looks like I'm really working on something.

Hopefully tomorrow, I can get back to the gym. And get this show on the road.

IT's HERE

I can hear the theme music now. The second season of Beverly Hills 90210 comes out today and I'm not to proud to admit that I will be buying the second season at some point in the near future.

BH90210 got me through high school. I have a sentimental soft spot for the cheesy shows, the height of romance between Brenda and Dylan, the love triangle of Kelly, Dylan and Brenda, the crazy Emily Valentine. I've heard that season 2 even has the summer episodes, the fun ones where Brandon started working at the Beach Club and all of it.

Judge if you will, but sometimes there isn't a greater escape than a good episode of bad tv.

In other news, I've stocked up all kinds of healthy foods for lunch to help accelerate my healthy eating and working out quest.

I hear the weather gods are gonna shine for the rest of the week, so that will hopefully keep my mood on the upside of sunny.

Hyatt Living

My weekend wasn't looking too exciting when I left work on Friday. As I mentioned, a doctor's appointment, the gym and then a quiet evening at home.

So I was delighted on Saturday afternoon when my friend Usha called and suggested we go out in Royal Oak Saturday night. I called and invited a few people, she did the same and a good time was had by all.

The weather was looking great so I suggested we head to Memphis Smoke and sit on the roof top deck for some drinks. It started raining after a bit, so we walked down the couple of blocks to Bastone and had dinner in the bottom part of the restaurant called Cinq. More Beligum beer and good conversation.

At one point, we'd all started talking about Cinco De Mayo, and one of the people from England asks, "what's Cinco de Mayo?"
To which another person responds: "It's basically St. Patrick's Day for Mexican People."

Every one broke up then, but Nevada and I weren't ready to call it quits, so we headed to Gusoline Alley and had some more drinks. Fun, fun. Good seats right next to the ATM machine made striking up conversation pretty easy.

After 2 rounds of drinks, we decided maybe we should head home. But we got sidetracked on the way and ended up stopping off at Leo's for a late night snack.

Sunday was one of those perfect Sundays for me. I woke up around 8:30, had coffee, laid on the couch, had some water, watched a little dvd of Inside the Actor's Studio, then got dressed and went for a walk out in the beautiful sunshine.

After, I came home took a shower, and started doing dishes, laundry and assorted housework. I took a nap, cleaned my room, talked to Shane, and then packed a bag.

Karlene had invited me to spend the night at the Hyatt in Dearborn, which is right next to my office. So I went there last night, had a free cheese plate, watched some good cable, hung out with Karlene, and she gave me her complimentary bottle of Merlot to take home.

This morning, I slept in, then took a shower in the best shower ever, got ready and then headed down for my free breakfast of Starbucks coffee, fresh pineapple, and a muffin.

After a three minute drive to work, I was here feeling refreshed and relaxed.

Good weekend. Much more than I'd hoped for.

Arm Hole

It's Friday night and I thought I'd check in. Busy week.

M-F, usual work related hoopla. Till Friday afternoon. Had a doctor's appointment today with my old school doctor. I needed to check on this thing on my arm, that hadn't gotten better or gone away. Rewind a few days and it looked exactly like this skin cancer picture in a health magazine, I'd decided to read while hanging out with my dad.

I was trying to cheer him up, he's been sick and has cancer to boot. So we hung out watched about 10 minutes of Gilmore Girls and then we watched a solid hour of COPS.

Now that's entertainment. Anyway, when I finally laid down as is my custom I read before bed, and that's when I saw the article on skin cancer.

So, this afternoon I went to my doctor where he froze the sore, removed it and now we wait for a week while they test it, to see if it's anything or nothing.

Then I went to my gym for a post doctor workout, then onto CVS to pick up my prescription and it was home for some couch time, where I watched Entourage and then cleaned out my cabinet under the bathroom sink.

Tomorrow is more of the same. Maybe I'll get crazy and go to a movie.

The Day of Will

Today is my younger brother's birthday. He goes by Will, but I've always called him BJ a childhood nickname that I can't shake, so neither can he. But he allows it since I'm his sister.

When we were young, BJ and I were playmates. Shane was already off to school which left BJ and I to hang out at home and play games. Batman and Robin in the backyard with my teeter toter, bike rides in the gravel driveway, and Mom and Honey.

BJ is probably one of the most unique people I've ever known in my lifetime. He is living in Floridia now and trying his best to find his own way.

Wishing him much love, happiness, and optimisim that things will work out.

Happy Birtday, B.

Love,
Kou

The UnderTaker Takes A Bride

So, a family wedding this past weekend at Meadow Brook Hall in Rochester.

My cousin Sean who is an undertaker, took a bride. They met at a funeral director's convention. Just goes to show if you're doing what you love, you're bound to meet somebody to love.

Very nice wedding. Excellent dinner. Dancing. Beautiful setting.

It was fun to see all the relatives too.

Recharged

Back from the north. It was a good trip. Just want I needed: Some relaxation, extra sleep, some shopping, and good tv.

I started watching Entourage a show on HBO which is really fun to watch, about a young Hollywood actor who is trying to make it in Hollywood and his entourage is four childhood friends.

Anyway. After stopping at Birch Run for a lotion run at Bath and Body, I'm feeling better.

I know my saddness will return, but I'll do my best to push it down, keep it at bay.

Now, it's back to work but the week is half over already, so hooray!

All of Me

I am lonely.

Funny, how hard that is to write. It makes me feel even more vulnurable, but there it is. It's weird that our culture allows for all kinds of sentences.

"I made a mistake."
"I'm an alcoholic."
"I killed my wife."

But somehow, admitting one is lonely is not really talked about. Behind closed doors it is hard to admit even to myself, let alone share it with other people. But I figured, I might as well say it. It's true. Yes, I have lots of friends. And parents who love me, and brothers who care. But it is not the same.

I'm tired of going to sleep alone every night. I'm tired of never having a shoulder to lay on while I watch tv. I wish I had someone's hand to hold sometime, somebody to hug. A person to call when I've had an awful day. A person who wants to make me feel better for that bad day.Somebody to laugh with, cry with, a person that was unequivoically on my side.


I don't.

Never have, really.

Not sure I ever will.

And that sentence was almost as hard to write as that first one.
I don't beleive in soul mates. Or the pomp and circumstance surronding a big wedded affair. After all, it's not about your outfit you wear to the party, it's more about who's going with you.

Not sure how to wrap this up in a pretty bow, so I'll just exit quietly, shutting the door on my way out.

Slumber Party

Not the seven grade variety. There will be no removal of bras, to be dipped in water and frozen. No scary stories, no kissing practice on flat pillows or hands.

Nope. This is my friend Karlene and her daughter Gywnn swooping down to cheer me up in my sad state.

Since we don't have to work on Friday, making it very good indeed, we are having a visit. I will then pack up and head to Leelanau. It is looking like my hopes for a pretty spring drive are being dashed, but it will be relaxing either way.

I find napping on the couch while listening to Robert Redford or Paul Newman was an excellent relaxation method.

Who needs yoga?

Easter Bonnets

If one could throw up emotions, I'd be heaving my guts out right now.

But since I can't, I'll just tell you that I'm leaving town on Friday and going up north to see my mom. She lives near Lake Leelanau, and she's invited me to spend Easter up there.

Sounds nice to get away, so I shall. I almost always feel better after one of those road trips. Maybe it's cause of all my own road-trip rituals that bring me comfort. For example, if I have to use the restroom while traveling, I will almost always stop at McDonald's. Why? It's usually generally clean, and you will always find a McDonald's no matter how small the town is.

By the time I'm at the Zilwaulkee Bridge, I always feel more relaxed and calm, and like I'm actually on vacation. I love trading in the burning up I-75 at record speeds for the slower, curvy 2 lane roads after Grayling. I like stopping sometimes at the Cherry Market in Kalkaska. They sell these tiny little clothes pin cookies that I swear are the tastiest cookie ever, and trust me, I eat a lot of cookies.

Then once I reach Traverse City, I feel as if I've arrived, even though I've got another 30 minutes. I love driving through Sutton's Bay and guessing what the movie playing will be, a childhood ritual that has stayed with me.

I love driving along M-22 and looking at Grand Traverse Bay.

When I arrive, my mom starts chattering non stop and she helps me carry all my stuff inside, usually commenting about how much stuff I've brought.

Then, we usually have a snack and then we head to the store to stock up snacks and goodies.

This year we're going out for Easter Brunch with my aunt at the Bluebird. A fine Easter dinner that none of us have to cook.

4 days of bliss will be upon me soon.

Send Off

Tonight, it's drinks with co-workers for a fellow co-workers depature to a new agency. It seems to be that adertising is a lot of drinking to celebrate comings, goings, new accounts, and if things have gone badly, you drink too. Just after hours.

We're going to pub crawl in my neighborhood, so that's good news for me. It means that I can drink and walk with no problems. Will it be gin and tonic or microbrewed beer?

Can't say. Don't know yet. I do know the last time I was drinking in Royal Oak, my friend refused to leave the bar, so I walked home. Luckily it was only a few blocks.

In other news, I forgot my wallet today. No money, no ID, nada. I do have a mini can of diet coke, coffee, and a magazine, so all hope isn't lost. :)

Rain Boot Extravengza

Spring is almost here in Michigan. Technically, I think yesterday was springs calendar debut, but it is hard pressed to tell with the 35 degree weather just yesterday.

But, I did notice sprouts of grass and plenty of rain this morning. Which leads to my new obsession: Rain boots. I saw a pair of rain boots of the Kate Spade variety a few months back and suddenly thought, " I need rain boots."

I'm am at times a bit impulsive. I once took a photo of Hallie Berry to the salon and had the girl cut my hair like Hallie's. She can pull it off. Me, you could see my scalp when I turned sideways.

I played golf on the spur of the moment for work when I was a property manager for a HUD property. When I tried to protest, explaining I'd never played golf, they told me, I'd get the day off with pay, drive around in a cart, eat free steak dinner, and subside the meat with free beer. Well, how can one argue with that?

After said golf outing (I was awful), I decided to take up golf so I took lessons. Then I wanted golf clubs for Christmas. My dad told me to wait to see if I really, really liked golf.

Turned out I didn't. Which brings me back to my rain boots. The Kate Spade ones were classic stylish and expensive, but they lacked the fun of a rain boot. They were more for ladies that take the train to work, carry attache cases and never spill their coffee, or smear their lipstick.

Me though: I'm a puddle jumping mess. I drag a ratty tote bag into the office every morning, with my homemade lunch in an old Target Bag. I never have lipstick on, and I've dropped my coffee mug and watched it roll across the parking lot more than once.

So, I hunted online and found rain boots that were cheaper and more me. These were fun and not to pr icy, so I won't have to feel guilty if I don't wear them 800 times.

But I love boots. I used to have a pair of red boots that I apparently loved so much I insisted on wearing even in summer. And it's then that I decided rain boots are not impulsive for me, they're a rite of passage.

Quote This

A few quotes from a few movies that resonate with me.


What is your name?
Butch: Butch.
Esmeralda: What does it mean?
Butch: I'm American, honey. Our names don't mean shit.

Pulp Fiction

Was one of those movies that left me changed to the point where it hasn't left me, even 13 years later. Every time I hear the music, it brings me back to a summer of drinking, being young and carefree.


You're not like my other teachers, Professor Tripp.
Grady Tripp: You're not like my other students, James.

Wonder Boys

A movie about writing that is very funny, but subtle funny. The sort of movie that gets funnier every time I see it.

Is that what you call giving cover?
Sundance Kid: Is that what you call running? If I knew you were going to stroll...

Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid

One of the best movies of all time. Hands down. Redford and Newman are great actors who started the buddy movie trend. Love, love love this movie!

I know there are many more, but this is the kind of post that will require future updates.

Half Optimist

I watched the movie, Half Nelson last night. The subject matter was a tad depressing, (teacher addicted to crack), but it was a good story in that it wasn't all down-trodden and the story didn't wrap up in some neat little bow at the end. The teacher was played by Ryan Gosling who did a great job in my opinion.

He had a line in the movie about, every time the sun comes up we're blessed with a new day." While that idea isn't new, it was nice for me to be reminded of that once in a while. Today is better than yesterday for me, and maybe tommorow will be even better.

Maybe it's cause I went to the gym, or because the sun is out, or because I got a haircut. Who knows?

I'm just looking forward to feeling good for the rest of the day, minus the tiredness.

I consider myself a cynical optimist. It fits me most of the time.

The Quinlan O Family

Happy St. Patrick's Day on this soon to be Irish revelery weekend.

It seems that everyone is Irish on St. Patrick's Day and I'm ok with it. A friend just asked if I was feeling any more Irish today. I'm sure he was joking, but in fact I don't feel any more Irish today than I will next week.

Probably because I don't know how it feels to be anything else. I love to celebrate my heritage but that has meant green beer in the past. Now, it just means that I love my huge family. I love that I may go months or weeks between family gatherings, but as soon as I see one of my cousins, aunts or uncles we hug like it was yesterday. We pick up in the middle of the same joke, laugh about the next installment of certain family stories, all while drinking, laughing and sharing.

My Aunt Pat has started collecting all of the family history into wonderful movies on dvd for us all to enjoy. I love pictures too and seeing all of my uncles, aunts and grandparents when they were young. I look forward to my generation and seeing where me and all my cousins end up. Some things I have learned from growing up Irish.

1. Irish people like to love. We welcome all friends like they're family. If you come to a party, expect to be interrogated and then welcomed with wide open arms.
2. Yes, there is the drinking.
3. I know that I will always be a fighter. I'm a kind and gentle person who often gets mistaken as meek. Go ahead, underestimate me or talk down to me. You won't do it twice.
4. Pride- Irish people in general and it seems my family especially are full of pride. Our last name is revered, tattoted, printed on shirts, and even when the women in the family marry they often keep Quinlan.
5. You can't just leave a family party unannounced, unless your Uncle Tony. He's scooted away a few times. But the tradition is to hug everyone and spend at least 30 minutes saying good-bye. If one has somewhere to be, you better plan for the goodbye to get out on time.
6.We're not a flashy family. I'm sure we all do fine in our respective jobs, but no one is going to suck up to you because you dress in fancy clothes or have a big career. We love our tree-trimmers with as much vigor as our professional althetes. We also have a few teachers, an undertaker, a copywriter, an accountant, speech therapist, marketing person, copywriter, artist, canoe livery operator, producer of a quilting show on PBS.

But as soon as somebody gets a big ego, you'll get knocked down on your ass.

I miss my family but I take comfort in knowing they're all a family party away and if I ever get in trouble, they will be there, which brings me to 7.
7. We show up. When my brother Shane was hurt in a tree accident, the whole family came down by the van-ful to pile into Shane's hospital room.

When my dad was sick with cancer and chemo treatments his brothers and sisters came down in shifts to visit and help me my brother and my mom out. When my cousin Travis died last year, my dad came to the wake even though he was pretty sick, he wanted to be there for his brothers, sisters, neices and nephews.

Well, Irish people like to talk and since I'm finally out of steam, I'll leave you to have your Irish memories, I'm late for a potluck lunch here at the office.

Happy St.Patrick's Day to one and all.

Be Safe.

Apples are not Oranges

I felt like I had to take hand to keyboard today and get something down. Have been under a work cloud lately and haven't been able to pay my blog too much attention.

Did I get my free Starbucks coffee this morning? Yes, I did. I usually make coffee at home most mornings, and I did this morning, but some days there just isn't enough of it.

After work I'm going to the Apple store to buy a new bag for my laptop. I tried to cheap out and buy one at Walmart, but that simply won't too. My computer is too skinny and slides too and fro. So, it's off to Apple I go.

I realize I spent enough money on the computer so I might as well pony up the money to carry it around, or there isn't much of a point in buying a laptop.

No Takers on the Death Express

This morning during my morning commute, I discovered something even more unsettling and nerve inducing than having a cop drive behind you.

A hearst. Yes, a hearst followed me all the way to work and I kept feeling like the Grim Reaper was out for a joy ride and wanted company.

Sorry buddy. Not today. How come he didn't follow me yesterday when I was feeling a bit down, defeated and depressed?

No, he waits till today when I'm rather tired, but in a better mood.

Ah well. I made it to work without taking a turn on the death cab.

So, things are looking up.

Giant Button of Grace

This morning was a good sleeping morning. The kind of morning where the covers are just warm enough, snuggled just so that I was full cocooned and could have slept for days.

But as is custom for those of us who need money, I had to get out of bed to go the gym, and then on to work.

And here I am. But I often trick myself, promising myself if I get up I'll be able to take a nap later. This is a lie I'll tell myself, but I fall for it every morning.

I do notice that the only time I'm an excellent mathematician is when my snooze button is involved. I can calculate to the second, how much longer I get to sleep if I push it, and how many times I can do it, till I've run out of snooze time.

If only we'd cover snooze button math in Algebra rather than FOIL (First, Outside, Inside, Last), I'd have gotten an A+. My snooze button is my magic genie, my granter of sleep in seven minute increments.

I couldn't live without it. Or coffee. Or showering. Or chocolate. Or rambling.

Land Of Oz

For those of you who may have seen the news yesterday, the tornado that hit Enterprise Alabama, is the town where my cousin Colleen and her son Patrick live.

Patrick goes to the high school, but luckily he wasn't in school yesterday and is fine.

So is Colleen, and I'm so glad. Our big family doesn't talk or gather every day, but that doesn't mean we don't care about each other. In fact, it's been a rough week and year for the family.

My cousin Travis died a year ago this week at 28. I was reminded of this and how life is so precious especially again after yesterday, and I'm grateful that we won't be facing another tragedy today.

Not much other news. I'm just feeling grateful this morning that my big huge Irish clan are all doing ok and I take comfort in knowing that even if I don't talk to them all everyday, there are all only a phone call away.

Stop the Maddness

Anna Nicole Smith.

Small town girl dreamed of making it rich.
Got pregnant young and had a son.
Outfitted herself in big hair and fake boobs.
Became a stripper.
Married an old, old man.
Become a Millionaire.
He died.
She lost her money.
Fought, fought and fought again to get it back.
Used drugs.
Got fat.
Lost the weight.
Got pregnant.
Gained weight.
Had Baby Girl.
Son died.
Lost weight.
Did drugs.
She died.


Now please, can we stop? I don't need to hear one more story, one more entertainment show dedicated to Anna Nicole. The amazing part is how little information anyone has, but yet they dedicate weeks and weeks to her death, while she was alive these same shows helped make fun of her.

I wasn't an Anna Nicole Smith fan, but I'd hoped she'd turn her life around. Sadly she didn't, but the news media really needs to stop reporting her every move, lack of move, burial plan etc.

There is a war going on, thousands of young men and women fighting for our own good living are dying and we gloss over that to skip ahead to see where Anna Nicole will be buried.

Listen, I'm no saint. I read gossip magazines. I read because it helps me forgot how sad and unforgiving the world can be. But I also try and keep up on current events and I'm not talking about how a stripper spent her last day on earth.

I pray that between all these handlers, one of them will be looking out for the best interest of her daughter, so that she may grow up in a world where we spent at least some of our energy on things that matter.

I Wasn't Special I Guess

"We need to stop endlessly repeating 'You're special' and having children repeat that back."

This bit of wisdom comes the way of Yahoo and is an exert about college students becoming more self centered, more indulged and thus more spoiled. I tend to agree to a certain extent. My college experience was one of hard work, plenty of drinking, two or sometimes three jobs, and learning all kinds of things that couldn't be taught in any classroom.

1. Living with a slutty girl who would sneak off in the night to sleep with random men, not my cup of tea.

2. Having a single dollar for three weeks, because as soon as I broke it, I'd be left with a pile of change, which was somehow worse.

3. Working late nights in the computer lab, because no one really had their own computers back then.

4. Wasn't allowed to have a car as a freshman on campus. Which actually turned out to be a good thing. It forced me to stay up in Big Rapids, and get to know people.
5. Forced to eat in the cafeteria, which meant on Sundays, the hall was closed at 2pm. Most Sunday nights, I ate microwave popcorn for dinner.

6. My parents did what they could to send me money, but they sort of spend it all sending me to college. Extra spending money was up to me. Over the course of four plus years in college, I worked at the cafeteria as a dish-washer, In the Hockey Rink as a concession stand worker, at a Hot and Now, that I had to stalk till they gave me a job, and my reward was a bright purple T-Shirt that said, Hot and Now on it with a lightning bolt in bold yellow, and my final job, which I held for a few years was the carry out window of a certain dining hall. I worked back there pretty much on my own, took phone orders and handed food out the window. This was mostly fine, until the word got out, that apparently I had a "sexy phone voice", and men would call and order pizza like they'd just dialed a 900 number.

7. Having $8 dollars in my bank account, so I had to go to the bank drive-thru and ask for my money.

8. Living on rasin bran for several weeks at a time, as it was filling and cheap.

9. Going to Casey McNab's on Tuesdays for Quarter taco night, and having just enough left over for one beer.

10. Riding around town on the Dial a Ride, which was this big bus that would take you anywhere for a dollar. Not that great of a treat when the only places you could go were K-Mart, and the Dairy Queen, but only in the summer.

If I ever have kids, I'll make sure they have jobs so they appreciate things more and don't expect things to be handed to them, but hopefully they won't have to hold three jobs, plus school.

I'm not complaining, but I sure didn't whine about my lack of computer or much else. I was and still am grateful that my parents could send me to college. That was my gift. And I never forgot how hard they both worked to give me an education. It wasn't their job. If they chose too, after high school they could've just told me, that's it. You're on your own. But they didn't.

In case either of you are reading this, thanks mom and dad.

I dressed for Comfort

If anyone in cyber space is paying attention, I mentioned in my last blog that I may dress up for the Academy Awards. I didn't though. Opted instead for fleece pajamas.

I was still feeling a bit under the weather and had little energy for pomp and circumstance. I ate what I can only assume was a tainted frozen meal Saturday afternoon, and got pretty sick within two hours after consuming it.

Graphic details aren't needed. Suffice it to say, I'm going to write a letter to my friends at Smart Ones, whose parent company is Heinz to share my joy with them. If anyone deserves to hear about how their frozen goodness made me sick, it's them.

Friday night though, I did go to a trendy eatery, The Clarkston Union, which is renowned for their Macaroni and cheese. I tasted it. Yes, it was good, but I'm not sure it lived up to all the hype. The salad I ate before it was better.

And that's all I've got for this Monday Morning.

Not the Hulk

I'm not an angry person. I think I'm fairly even tempered, and am not prone to emotional bursts of anger. I've worked in close proximiety to co-workers and despite stress, frustration and angst, I'm pretty good about staying level-headed.

There are a few people in my life that can make me angry in 3 seconds flat, but those are exceptions, not the norm. I don't tend to operate out of that mode. Often people mistake that for being a push-over.

That is not true.

Lately, I get angry every morning when my alarm goes off at 6 a.m.ish, telling me it's time to go to the gym. And once I rouse myself out of bed, stumble around, dress myself and brush my teeth and get in the car, when I finally get to the gym, I just want to do what I want.

But lately, it's been crowded. New people standing on my treadmill, crowding their way on to my bike and all I want to do is yell for them to get the hell out of my way.

I don't of course, because truth be told, they aren't doing anything wrong. It just pisses me off. That's part of the reason, I drag myself out of bed at that ungodly hour. Because after 5 pm, it's even worse with gym whores.

I'll continue to endure this torture for a while. I'm a mission, but I just don't play well with others at 6 a.m.

Chocolate Covered

The red cellophane hearts are being sold off today like blankets on the side of the road.

Yes, the holiday aftermath. That sad day when a once festive holiday is turned into a ravaged rack of broken cupids, smashed candy and broken conversation hearts, all things pink, and boxes of leftover kiddie Valentines.

Let's make room for the Easter themed junk. I'm just thankful I don't work in a retail setting because shoving the holidays down people's throats would depress me. And how did I spend Valentine's Day?

Had dinner and went to Walmart to get a birthday gift for Karlene's daughter Gwynn. I thought the store would be pretty empty and thankfully it was. I selected a Hokey Pokey Elmo Doll that dances.

Seemed pretty cute for a 2 year old. Her party is on Saturday and since I don't have kids, I'm enjoying playing with my friend's children. Then I can leave.

My dad did call me last night, which was nice and we had a good conversation. I'm not sure if I was alarmed to find out we share some similar political views.

He asked if I was lonely since it was Valentine's Day?

"Not anymore lonely than I was on Tuesday."

I'm lucky that so many people care about me. I appreciate the cards and the well wishes.

Nothing compares to last V-Day, when Becky and I went to Taco Bell.

Now that's romantic.

Bring in the Stupid

Short entry today as I've got to leave early for an appointment.

Anyway, between the long boring meeting to nowhere this morning, the random construction noises and my Microsoft Word defaulting to German, I haven't gotten a whole lot done.

Which is not that surprising considering I wasn't given any clear direction, just " make it new."

Ok. Check.

In other news, my mom is in town and she is coming over to spend the evening with me on Friday. Should be fun. Yes, I get along with my mom and yes I think she's fun but no, we're not the Gilmore Girls.

Fuck them. :)

Lunchtime and then appointment in Ann Arbor.

And the Oscar Goes Too

The Oscars are just around the corner. Who will win Best Picture, Who is that? and Really? That Movie was nominated?

All kinds of questions surround Oscar Night. This year's question I am wrestling with, is Will I dress up again?

Several years ago, My friend and I got all dressed up for the Oscars and watched them at home. You've got to get some use out of those old bridesmaid dresses. I found a glittery top heavy with Jewel crusted stones and a long black skirt. I did my hair like I was going to the prom, and Karlene dressed in similar attire.

We served snacks on silver platters, had drinks out of champagne flutes, and making a grand entrance by waltzing down the stair case.

I haven't done my Oscar ritual since, but my family still talks about it. I think they think that I'm insane. And maybe I am. But I sure had fun. The problem was that it was just the two of us there.

Now that I live alone, I'm not sure I'll bother to get all dressed up. Because really being all dressed up in full evening gown attire, at home alone, at some point is a little too reminiscent of Mrs. Habbersham in Great Expectations.

Either way, I've got a few weeks to decide what I'm wearing.

Comfortably Numb

How's everything going with you? Tell me a story.

nik



There once was a girl who was sad with the state of
her life. Her friends were moving away, having babies,
getting engaged, or planning weddings.
She did not wish to become a bridesmaid.
Again.

She works in advertising doing ads for one of the BiG 3,
and last week when she saw smoke across the street, she prayed that X
was burning down its Headquarters for the insurance
money.

She doesn't have any matches and is not a suspect.

As her saddness comes and goes, she wallows a bit, but
true to her Irish nature, decides it isn't time to
lay down.

She forged again into her gym foray of late, enlisting
the help of an older brother, who tutored her on the
weight machines, to supplement her early morning
cardio routine. She's been exercising and trying to
eat healthfully for a few months now.

Feeling optimistic, she hopped on her bathroom scale
even as she cringed inwardly with such an unhelpful
tool.

But she is her father's daughther, and got on anyway.
She learned then why she HATED an unliving thing.
How could the weight be exactly one pound heavier than
when she started, yet her clothes were getting looser
and her face was thinning out?

It was then she decided it was all bullshit.

She knew she was working hard and knew she's going to
be a lot happier when she loses this weight. She
joined Weight Watchers online for some added
structure, opting this time to skip the in person
meetings. She realized she's not that nice, and
doesn't care to waste time listening to other ladies
talk about fiber and filling salad toppings.

She knows she can do this on her own, and is finding
WW online a good alternative. She likes any reason to
play with her new MacBook laptop that she bought herself.

She hired someone to do a web site for
her, to put up her portfolio. She was just contacted by a new
recruiter yesterday, and is optimistic about finding a
new job. Hopefully, in a few months.

She read on Yahoo, an article about the top 5 jobs for
2007, copywriter is one of those jobs. And in even
higher demand are CW's who are skilled in both
Interactive and Print. This makes her smile.

This weekend, she's going to hang out with a friend
and spend the rest of it, organizing her job
search materials, watch a documentary from Netflix,and
try not to freeze to death in Michigan's record low
cold tempertures.

She wonders if a new city and a new shape will shake
up the men. She listens to Hot Child every morning on
the treadmill, and knows, "She can be a hot child in
the city, where all the boys all stop and stare."

She doesn't want that attention from men on looks
alone, but is tired of getting used for her brain. She
is boycotting any more male friendships. If the men
don't wish to sleep with her, she doesn't wish to make
them laugh or engage in conversation. Previous male
friends will be grandfathered in, and should not
become alarmed that she will randomly attack them.

Married men friends are not targets either.

She is happy that a renegade cowboy, Nik is her friend
and is planning to run into him sometime again in this
lifetime.

She wants to buy him a beer, and talk about Redford
and Newman, and Mr. Cash.

He never expected such a long story, but he knows how
she can ramble.

Phone Home

this was your baby, and now i got 'em send me a birthday card or the little fucker gets it.....................

The note above followed the picture in an email from my brother Shane. When we we're kids, he really loved the movie ET. I guess things have changed.
He used to wear a necklace with ET's head on it. In his defense, he was probably 8 or 9. But we grew up seeing ET in the theater and we were young enough to think it was a pretty cool movie. It came out when movies were an Event, and stayed in the theaters for months.

So, back to the hanging of ET.

A few summers ago, Connie and I were up in Lake Leelanau visiting my mom for the weekend. C. wanted to go see some shops, and we came upon a thrift store, that I swear was a storage bin for old shit from Sanford and Son.

And there on a table piled with misc. crap sat ET.
I bought him for Shane for his birthday as a joke.

Fast forward a few weeks. Shane called to invite me out on the lake with him and Jeff for the day. Boating is always preferable to sweating, so I took him up on the offer. I packed up ET and brought him along. When I got to Jeff's house, I pulled ET out of my bag and handed him to Shane.

Since S. is no longer 8, but closer to 35, he looked at me, and said,"

"What the hell is this?"

Me: "It's ET."

"I can see that, but why did you buy me a doll?"

Me: "It's ET."

Shane was not impressed, and I was sick of driving around with him in my car.
His head had already fallen off on me, and I'd performed emergency surgery in the car.

But even ailens need a little sun, so I brought him on the boat.

And then forgot him. I'd planned to take him and find him a good home. I felt it was my duty after I'd paid a whole quarter.

A few days later, the ransom letter arrived in my Inbox.

Next year, Shane got a card.

Dragon Slayer

Some days I wake up ready to tackle the world. Other days, I just feel run over and want to take a nap.

This morning was somewhere in the middle. I slayed virtual Dragons this morning. To borrow a phrase from Elvis, I TCB. (Took Care of Business). Hopped on Netflix to report my missing movie that supposedly arrived two days ago and didn't.

Then emailed Communication Arts to inform them that my subscription was running out two months early for no apparent reason, they agreed and promised to correct the problem.

I then tackled Sallie Mae. Actually that student loan has been off my back, but I had to print a summary of interest paid for tax purposes.

So, really not that exciting. No fire, no swords or threats of sudden death. I found it liberating just the same. Tonight, I will take on the mammoth check book and my pile of bills.

Whoo-HOO

Free Time

Last night's drive home was a good one. Meaning the roads were dry, traffic moved and I got home at a decent time. Amazing what a decent commute will do for one's mood.

My usual ritual is to arrive home, throw the mail on the coffee table, hang up my coat, and then sit on the couch for a few mintues to just breathe.

After that I dig around in the kitchen for dinner. Last night was quick because I had leftovers. Then I unwind with an episode of Friends which is the equilviant of eating a big bowl of Mac and Cheese.

Then I cruised over to the library to return some books, and of course picked up some more. I can't stop when they're is free media. I snagged Dave Eggers new book, What is What. Then I got some free movies.

Searching for Debra Winger, an doc about actresses in Hollywood and Mad Hot Ballroom and the entire second season of Six Feet Under. Love that show, and I know I've seen most of that season once upon a time, but it's a good thing to watch in the evening.

Maybe that's why I've been depressed?

After the library, I went to Target to pick up some household items and decided to treat myself to a Valentine Day t-shirt. It does not expressly support V-Day, but I thought it was cute, and is really just an extension of my love of the theme sock.

If nothing else, I can use a few more long sleeve t-shirts for the gym. Shane came over on Saturday and showed me an entire weight routine to supplement my cardio.

I'll be picking up cars with my bare hands in no time.

Name Tag No More

My first job was at the local IGA grocery store in Milford.
I worked in the deli department and made $4.00 an hour. It was good money at the time.

The deli/bakery was a job divided into two parts. Either you were bakery, which meant that when you're shift started at 3 pm, you were given a list, and send into the back of the store to the walk in freezer. It was here that you pulled out flat, triangle, and circle pieces of frozen dough. These would turn into donuts.

It was the other person's responsibilty to "work the chicken fryer." This involved, dipping raw chicken into a bin of flour and throwing all the pieces into a hot cauldren of hot grease.

In between these tasks, we waited on customers, sliced their lunch meats, scooped their potato salads, and boxed their cakes and cookies.

Other jobs in high school and college were equally fulfilling.

1. The Little Ceasar's. Absurd outfit,pizza maker and phone answerer.
2. The Laundry Mat: My only job requirement was that I not fall asleep. (Only did this once.) We had a drop off service where people could drop off their clothes and I'd wash it for them. And hand out quarters. This was actually a great after school job, because I could do most of my homework and get paid.
3. Other Pizza Place- same as before minus the cheesy outfit.
4. Highland House Carryout- Handed out breadsticks and smelled of food. This was good training for my stint at the Olive Garden.
5. Krogers- I was a Courtsey Clerk: Meaning I bagged up your grocercies and collected your carts from the parking lot.
6. Summitt Cafe- I did this for one day. Apparently, I'm just not waitress material.
7. Olive Garden- Prep cook. Ie, smell like olive oil, grease, and wet spinach.
8. Another Laundry Mat: Across town. Same drill. Fold clothes. Give change.
9. Shell Station: Pumped gas at full service station. Was forbidden to read or do anything but stare in the parking lot in between fill ups.
10.Joe Muggs- My best part time job ever. Got to make coffee drinks, and coffee. Drank all the free coffee I wanted and read magazines.

That was my last name tag job. And I hope there isn't ever another one.

Sunday

It's a quiet Sunday.

The kind of day where I've already been outside, talked with others and interacted with the world on some level, so I don't feel like a recluse.

Now I'm just resting on the couch next to the heater, not wanting to move.

Birds are chirping outside the window, oblivious to the snow in the branches. Or maybe they're yelling at one another that they should've left to go south a while back.

Wish I could go South too.

I Subscribe

There are a few things I'd walk over my own mom to get to.
Beligum Chocolate, Joaquin Phoenix, Johnny Cash or anything JC related and magazines.

I have a magazine obession/sickness. I can never have enough. I'm not sure why but they fill me with absolute joy. Here's a list of the ones that I have subscriptions too:

1. Entertainment Weekly- I'm also an entertainment junkie, although lately, I've been falling behind on this one.
2. Glamour- Well because sometimes I enjoy being a girl and reading about girly stuff.
3. Esquire- Astute men's magazine, cause I like reading stories, and articles about gadgets and David Sedaris and Chuck Klosterman are regular contributers.
4.Dominio- Artsy interior desginer crafts, and cool ideas for decorating.

Then there is all the FREE magazines I pick up from the media bins, a perk of working at an advertising agency. Just nabbed the new, Vanity Fair, Self, Jane,( I know. Don't judge me), GQ, Gourmet, Conde Nast Traveler, the New Yorker, and Martha Stewart Living.

I love tearing the plastic off a fresh magazine and laying in my bed or on the couch to read them. The best part is that when I'm done, I give them all away. Some to the gym and some to my neighbors, and they are thrilled with a stack of bountiful free reading.

And because I'm such a loyal magazine reader, I can get subscriptions for extremly cheap. There's always the library too and sometimes I go sit at a bookstore and read the weekly ones.

I share the same passion for books. Piles of books line the floor of my flat, waiting to be read. There is the library stack, which means they must go first. Top of the pile is Memory Keeper's Daughter. Then there is a pile I just created from a used book store, which contains a book, Indecision about a guy working for a huge drug company, a random romance novel, and Middlesex, which received a Pultizer prize.

And under the coffee table, Beach Music which I hear is awesome, and got that from a girl in my writer group at our book exchange for Christmas.

Hey, maybe we do an exchange sometime soon too?

In my room on the bookshelf Gone with the Wind, The World According to Garp, and Kavilier and Clay.

Plenty of printed words to keep me entertained.

Maybe I'll go to the library this weekend.

4 Little Girls

I enjoy documentaries and I like learning about real things that have happened, which is probably why I gravitate toward memoir writing and can't get enough of an authentic story.

Last night, I watched the documentary, 4 Little Girls about the bombing of the 16th street church in Alabama in the 60's. It was powerful and sad. It makes you wonder why such hatred would exist and what these men thought killing four innocent children was going to accomplish in furthing their cause.

Now, that I'm older I sometimes think about History class in high school and how I'd probably enjoy it so much more now. Not the Colonial period, but things like the Civil Rights movement, I find fascinating. Coming from an very white town, we covered the subject in a very brief manner, and certainly didn't pay attention the we should have.

Life Comes In

There is death and there is life. Big newsflash right? Well, having been to both a funeral and a birth, I'd much prefer the new life being born.

Last Thursday, my oldest friend, had a baby. A beautiful son named Harrison. I was an emotional wreck. I kept crying. Tears of joy, I'm sure, but it was very powerful to see my friend whom I've known since I was 6 have a child of her own.

It was amazing really. She was so brave. I was honored she wanted me in the room.
She'd asked me and her sister to leave when the actual delivery was about to take place, but this I can understand. Still, I was there all night and got to hold him two hours after he was born.

And again yesterday. C. called me and asked me to come and see her and the baby. They were all doing pretty good. I held him for a long time, and he slept and slept.

I don't think there is anything more peaceful than holding and cuddling a sleeping baby. I'm Aunt Kelly to the new baby. My second child, while not offical. It doesn't get much closer than knowing someone for almost 30 years.

My other little girl is my friend K's daughter. She is almost 2 and learned to say my name recently. That melted my heart too.

The funny thing is that I'm not one of those women who runs to hold other people's kids or automatically wants to hold your child. But if you're a true friend of mine, I seem to feel differently. I want to babysit them, help take care of them, and be there for you.

And that's what Aunts are for.

The Ice Storm

Sunday night brought the winter weather that most of us in Michigan dread, but are not surprised by. And there are those for whom winter is a joyful time to ski and snowboard and enjoy. And I'm happy for you.

It also makes me glad because my brother owns and operates a tree company. Two of them actually, Sequoia Tree Service and Quinlan Tree Service.

Yesterday I spent the day with him. Our original plan was to hang out while my Saturn was outfitted with an remote starter. But the ice came instead.

We'll still hung out, but it was mostly in the cab of the F-350, while we drove from job to job to look at downed trees and fallen limbs. He had to look at the trees on houses, in front of garages first. The ones where people could get hurt.

Our first order of the day was a tree that had crashed through a lady's front porch, and smashed her front window. The good news is that nobody was hurt, and Shane was able to get there and reassure the women that he'd have his crew back in a hour of two. It was thenoff to the yard, to help de-ice and get the equipment ready, and gather the crew, and so on and on. Calls upon calls and constant movement.

I didn't mind. I had a good time just hanging out and talking to my brother and watching him work.

I often think of him as a Superhero, swooping in and saving the day. Taking charge but always with a gentle nudge. It is a gift that God has given him.

I'm proud of the work he does, and I can't imagine having the skill to jump out of the truck, stand in the middle of a tangle of downed branchs, and with a yank of a chain saw, tear through a tree limb like it was made of butter.

I work in what he refers to as, "Corporate America." Where we gather around the community coffee maker, outfitted with our ID badges making small talk about our weekend.

But Shane does the real work. The gritty, down and dirty that others hire him for. And he does it with grace, ease and confidence.

And he is so generous.

After our long day, he took me to pick up the car with the new remote starter that was a gift from him actually, and then he made me dinner, and gave me new speakers to hook up to my computer.

I couldn't ask for a better older brother than Shane.

As my friend Barrie once said, "It seems like Shane would lay down in traffic for you."

I don't doubt it for a second.

You old Bitch

Today's blog entry is dedicated to my friend Barrie, since it is her birthday.

Hence the title of today's entry. Now please take that with a grain of salt. I know Barrie will.

Barrie and I met 6 years ago, when we were the only two female writers in our class at the Portfolio Center. We'd both come there for different reasons. Me, I'd been in the "real world" doing a job that I hated, and couldn't stand to do for one more mintute. And Barrie came because she thought she'd postpone working for a while longer.

The first time we hung out, we went to a famous bar in Atlanta, the Cleremont Lounge. It was a female strip bar, but neither one of us knew this ahead of time, we'd been sent there for school and told to write about our experience. Welcome to Portfolio Center. It became clear very early in the friendship by all rights and means, we shouldn't be friends. We had nothing in common. We didn't like the same music, clothes, I grew up in the midwest, she was a Floridia native.

I liked Harry Connick Jr and Johnny Cash. She was more Cat Stevens and Simon and Garfunkel.

You see? Not the same. And maybe that's why we've stayed friends. I don't know anyone else like her in my life. She's very much her own person. Maybe we have that in common.

Barrie will wear wrist warmers that she'd learned to knit herself, and I'd wear socks with dogs doing a limbo on them, just cause they're fun.

Happy Birthday Barrie. I hope your doing something very fun today.

Wishing you happiness today, tomorrow and always.

Tote On

I horde stuff.

And part of my daily morning ritual is packing a small green tote bag full of random items, I've convinced myself I will need during the day.
Let's see what today's bag has inside.

Main Bag Contents:
1. Love Walked In- A novel by Marisa De Los Santos- (to be read while at the gym)
2. A list of bills to be paid on Friday.
3. An application for a new CVS discount card.
4. An offer from Newsweek for a whole year for $20. I'm thinking about breaking up my love of mindless gossip with actual news events.
5.A letter from Merrill Lynch about my new 401K.
6. An invoice to Cosmo. I can't grow up all at once.
7.The Last 2 weeks of Entertainment Weekly.
8. The Janurary issue of Shape Magazine.
(I've been going to the gym most every day before work)
9.My wallet. It is almost as old as me.
10. My checkbook. Yes, I do use online banking.
11. A brown plastic hair clip. Since I just had all my hair cut off, I know longer need this.
12. My Wonder Woman address book.
13. A Plum Brandy lipstick from Clinque.
14. My Weight Watchers food journal. I'm supposed to write down everything I eat.
15. A receipt for Brilliant Brunette Shampoo & Conditioner.

And in the interior pocket:

1. My passwords to log onto my computer, my email, my timesheets for work. (They change often)
2. A 75 cents off coupon for Feria hair color.
3. A mirrored compact with Armed and Dangerous written on it. (Xmas gift from my mom)
4.Home Goods receipt, where I recently purchased a relish tray knife set.
5. Clinque lipstick, shade Guava Stain.
6. My ipod mini.

If you're a reader you almost always a book on you at all times or at least one or two in the trunk of your car, just in case. And that's how the tote tradition got started in the first place.

Carry On.

The Flat

I have been the sole inhabitant of an upper flat in Royal Oak since August 2005.
There are pros and cons of flat living that I've discovered upon move in.

Pro's:
1. Flat sounds so much more exciting than upper attic of old house.
2. Makes me sound British instead of cheap.
3. Which brings me to rent. It is not too expensive for me to live within walking distance of coffee shops, bookstores, bars and a farmer's market.
4. Character: It's got charm in a bit run down kind of way. My kitchen is in two parts. If I was any taller than 5'2", I'd hit my head on the doorway leading into the front room.
5. I've got 2 sky-lights and both a living room and a front room to put a desk, and bookshelves.
6. Decorated to suit my taste and since everything is very close together, I'm never more than 4 steps away from anything.
7. Fresh paint and slow addition of art work have added an air of ecelectic taste and maintained a sense of mystery. Guests may wonder, "Does she ever plan on buying a dining room table to give those 4 dining room chairs a sense of purpose?"
8. My neighbors are two girls who live right below me, but I have my own entrance. And they're the best kind of neighbors. They watch out for me, they pick up my mail when I'm gone, and it feels like we're a team over our collective home.
9. In exchange for drive-way parking on their part, they mow the grass.
10. I have my own washer and dryer inside my flat.
11. If something breaks, I call the landlord. Of course he once advised me to glue my kitchen tile back on, rather than repairing it, so I don't call him too often.

Cons
1. Rent- I don't own a home yet. But until I know where jobs and life will take me that's how it goes.
2. The tempeture: It's always blazing hot in the summer even with A/C window units and fans.
But manages to be freezing cold in the winter. Old windows leak air, and thus I freeze. No matter how hot I turn up the thermostat, I'm chilly. Consumer Energy doesn't see it that way, and continue to charge wads of cash so I can be freezing cold, inside the home.
3. The Shower: I think the H/C knob is purely decorative. It doesn't matter what I select, the shower is always burning hot. Even on the lowest heat setting.
4. Ratty carpeting. Thread bare and long ago clean, I did my best to spot clean it and instead bought bright colored area rugs to cover the floor. At least I can take those with me.
5. Storage- Or complete lack of it. I have no area in which to put anything not in immediate use. The only "storage area" is this random black hole in my hall closet. I throw stuff in there and pray a gremlin won't chew my arm off when I go to retreive something. I keep expecting to pull out a Santa Head decoration and see his face half chewed off by a random rodent.
6. When the girls downstairs listen to music I hear it. All of it. I'm sure it's not that loud in there house, but it echos. And they told me upon move in to please let them know if it's ever too loud. It's never that bad, and I can't bring myself to be that guy. That one that comes over and says, "I know you're having a party, but I need you to stop having fun so I can watch PBS and take a nap."

The pro's outweigh the cons, and as I suspected even with its quirks, I enjoy my little home and I'm happy to have it all to myself.

Scooby Where Are You?

I'm saddened to learn that the man who created Scooby Doo and brought him to life has died.
I have many fond memories of Saturday mornings hunched in front of our tv with my brothers.
We'd eat cornflakes and sit in our footy pj's, and laugh at goofy Scooby and all his adventures.

According to the internet article, the creator named Scooby after a line in the Frank Sinatra song, Strangers in the Night. In a way then, Mr. King of Cool named an iconic cartoon.

In other news, I've been awful. Still have to take down my Christmas tree. I will do it tonight. I don't think it will take it that long once I start. It's part of a bigger project where I need to clear off my desk to get my writing of stories started again. It's like anything. I'm out of practice and it now seems like I shall never again write a decent sentence to save my life.

I did put Word on my computer last night so now it's a matter of words on paper.

Take a Message

America's love of the cell phone is getting out of hand. People already take them everywhere as if they're children. And because of this, people have lost their sense of decency. Twice over the holiday break between Christmas and New Year's, I was out returning things and shopping.

And twice while in the ladies room in the stall next to me women took calls while I am assuming going to the bathroom.

Why in the world would you do this? Can't you just wait till you leave the restroom to answer the phone? It really can't be that important. Then yesterday I was at Home Goods and while in the store, I over-heard the following:

Man: I feel like I got used last night.

Person on other end of phone: (Have no idea.)

Man: Well, because you come over last night and spend the night, and then you don't call me till 4 in the afternoon. What's that all about?"

I'm pretty sure that the lady or gentleman wasn't aware that this private conversation was now public information for a store full of strangers.

Wee Haw

The first offical weekend of 2007 is fast approaching and I'm hanging out at work willing the clock to move faster.

Not that I've got grand plans this evening. Just meeting my friend R. for dinner, but it'll be nice to have a visit.

On Saturday is the haircut and then I've promised C. who is pregnant that'd I'd come for a visit.

She is feeling cooped up and needing some company. Sunday is writer group and I've got to commit to actually getting a story or two written this year in the greater scale of finishing something for publication.

And we'll see what else the weekend will bring.

Turn the Tide

A New Year is upon us and it is usually the time of year when we all take stock of our lives and decide to make grand statements about what is going to change this year. I used to fall for this trick too, but not any more.

I've made some decisions about a few things but they're quiet ones and not things that I need to share with the world over to make them true. I can tell you I plan to continue my early morning treks to the gym before work, because they help me. I like the gym so much better in the morning. It's comfortable. I've gotten used to all the machines.

I like seeing the same people. The dark blonde guy that reads the newspaper and runs on the stairmaster at a frantic pace. The blonde skinny girl next to him who looks like she could've been a homecoming queen, but a friendly one. The lady who sometimes walks on the treadmill next to mine and asks if we can change the channel from the Today Show to Good Morning America.

These are the people I like exercising with. We're all regular people just doing our thing. The last time I went at night, it was a totally different feeling, like I was at a high school dance but instead of formal dresses we were all wearing baggie t-shirts.

I still need to take down my Las Vegas Christmas tree and pack everything up. I kept it up a few extra days since I didn't get to enjoy it while I was up north.

As a nod to the New Year, I did make a hair appointment for Saturday at the fancy salon, but I like it there and I know I won't leave there looking worse for wear.

New Hair. New Year.

Get the scissors.

Christmas Party

This afternoon our office shall embark on a tradition as old as time. The Holiday Office party. We're having our bash (if finger food and drinks count as a bash) at The Royal Oak Music Theater.

Should be fun. Party punch and hanging out.

If nothing else, it a sign of the upcoming holiday break.

And there's no better reason to celebrate than that.

I promise not to drink too much Nog.

What Floor?

One of the perks and or downfalls, of working in an office is the elevator. Before I get started, yes I should take the stairs and often do when I'm coming back from lunch. But on my way into work I always have too much stuff, plus a cup of coffee and since I'm naturally clumsy well, I take the elevator.

Today's ride was better than most. I was far away from the door and the elevator was ready to close, but some nice guy shoved his hand out to hold it open a minute longer to let me get on.

Secondly, the button for my floor was pushed already. And finally when me and polite guy got off on our floor, he again held both doors for me to get inside our floor.

Success indeed. But I'm talking about those other rides. The ones where there is already a person on the elevator when I get on, and they're standing right next to the button panel, but don't bother asking what floor? They just stare and assume you're just hanging out. Last week, this woman got on and she didn't ask any floor for me, and then pushed her own button for the second floor.

One floor. I knew she was a jerk just from that moment. Maybe it's just women in elevators. Maybe this an area where men are winning the gender race hands down.

Red, Blue and OH NO!

It never fails to get my heart racing. The flash of blue and red lights behind you. And today it caught me totally off guard. You see I've been pretty responsible almost boring all weekend:

Going to the gym, cleaning my house, organzing files, with occassional breaks for a quick show on DVD, and today I'd only left to go get a newspaper, and was pulled over on my way home. So close to my house, I really could've walked.

When it was all said and done, the cop did me a favor. And gave me a ticket for an unsigned registration. But he was still a jerk the whole time, acting as if a speeding ticket should be treated with the same disregard, as if I'd killed somebody and stuffed their head in my trunk.

Ligten up, would you buddy? Anyway, the ticket is sitting on my fridge, and I plan to take care of it before work tomorrow morning. Out of sight, and out of mind.

Is it me or do you have the urge to rush home and pour a drink after talking to the police?

Where is the Customer in Customer Service

Last night after work I had some running around to do. The plan was to go to the Sprint store and find out why my phone wasn't charging,do some Christmas shopping and stop at the grocery store for a few things.

My first stop is the Sprint Store where they take my name, post it on a big screen so I know I'll be up soon.

I wait about 15 minutes to be called up for service. When my turn comes, me and the Sprint guy have a quick exchange about the phone not charging.

I give him my old charger. He asks if I have insurance on the phone, and I did. He says he'll take it the back and get back to me in 20 minutes.
After 5, he comes out & tells me the charger is the problem, gives me a brand new one free of charge(thanks insurance), and sends me on my way.

Considering Sprint is run by a big corporate plethora of paperwork, I was pretty pleased with the outcome.

Shortly after on my way to Christmas shop, I pass a small grocery store and decide to pick up a few things for my lunch. I get to the back where the deli counter is and have the following exchange with the mistress of the deli meat.

Me: Do you have Boarshead lunch meat?

Her: We haven't carried that brand for over a year. What do you want?

Me: Sorry, I've never been in here before. Let me look.

Her: What would I know I only work here.


She actually seemed offended that I didn't know the deli counter stopped carrying Boarshead lunch meat. Excuse me.

I try to be polite whenever I'm at a store. I say hello to the cashier. I don't take out my daily frustrations on them. But it seems the nicer I get, the ruder they are.

Maybe, it's time for a change. Maybe next time, we'll have this exchange.

Me: Hey Bitch. Give me some turkey.
Her: Why sure. Would you like anything else?

I wish.

Tis the Season to Forget Others

I find it ironic that we as Americans take this time of year to celebrate and pat ourselves on the back about how thoughtful, kind and giving we are. We shove ourselves like sardines into stores, to throw money at stuff to prove how much we care.

That just doesn't seem right. I don't think you can be a jerk all year, cheat on your taxes, be rude to everyone and then wrap up a new sweater, throw a bow on top and erase your shitty past behavior.

People need to remember what being thoughtful is all about.

First off, it's not about you. Get it? It's about calling a friend you know had a bad day, or taking time to go visit somebody who could use some cheering up. Sure, you might be tired, but sometimes the best thing you can do is show up for somebody else.

It's not like you have to have the magic response to their problems. You can't. But you show up anyway, offer a shoulder, an ear, and maybe a cocktail.

So next time your cart comes barreling down on me at the store, just know that if you'd said excuse me, I'd have gladly moved out of your way.

It's considerate to do so.

If you don't have a problem with being thoughtful than I'm clearly not talking to you so take no offense.

Eve Squared

On this eve before the Thanksgiving Eve, I am just getting home to prepare for tomorrow's road trip to Lake Leelanau to see my mom, and a bunch of relatives.

1. Did most of the laundry
2. Hunted down Pecan Pie for my mom. (two stores)
3. Procurred cheese ball and crackers for Aunt's Thanksgiving festivities.
4. Still need to pack bags and the car.

I'd like to take this time to thank all my friends for your ongoing support, understanding, humor and fun. Each of you brings something different to my life, whether is a rational friend to assure me, the imaginary killer won't hurt me, to kind words about my dad, to the friend or two that are always pushing and motivating you to be the best.

On the Eve of Thanks, I'd like to say I couldn't do it without you. I'm very lucky to have so many great friends near and far.

Happy Thanksgiving.

May it be bountiful.

The Blind Leads

This morning when I woke up fuzzy and blind, I could've sworn that I saw Lee Harvey Oswald standing on my neighbor's roof.

I've been blessed in many ways in my life, good job, nice friends, fun and loving family, but I got the shaft when it comes to eye sight. I can't see anything. My contacts go all the way up to a -7.5.

And when my alarm went off this morning, telling me to go to the gym (I've got quite a streak going), I looked over and there was Harvey. I wasn't sure why he was there, but can only assume he'd traded his hate of the President, into a new cause:

Guarding the street so that nobody would park in front of my crazy neighbor's house. Who knows? It's possible that crazy people have a soroity of sorts, and watch guard over each other's causes.

After I'd gone to the bathroom, brushed my teeth and came back to my room, I put my glasses on. Turns out Lee Harvey Oswald is a chimmney.

Go figure.

Still blowing smoke.

Ring Around the Rosie

I wear my grandma's wedding band everyday. Most days I wear it with one of two rings that my mom bought me. One is a ring she gave me for my 16th birthday. It's silver and antique looking with a purple stone.

Almost 20 years later, I love it as much as I did when I first got it. Maybe more. As the years go on, I realize how far I've come from the days when I spent hours fighting to wear make up and rushing to wash it off before my mom got home from work.

The other ring that I wear most often is again a silver banded ring with a brown stone, topaz maybe? I know the stones, but I know my mom's heart when she gave them to me.

Which brings us back to my grandma's wedding band. She passed away in 1994, just after Christmas,and she wore this wedding band for 49 years. It was truly one of those marriages that lasted till death do us part. The next Christmas, I was home helping decorate the tree as was tradition, and my mom gave me grandma's wedding band.

My mom has her engagement ring, and her wedding band is my treasure to behold.

It makes me feel good every morning when I put these rings on. Like the bond is forever between my grandma, my mom, and me. And the funny part?

My grandma had tiny fingers too. Her ring fit without any sizing.

And should I ever marry, I've got my perfect something old to walk down the aisle.

Stick This

Bumper stickers are a personal choice that all vehicle owners have to make for themselves. I don't personally care for them and it's not because I'm worried they will wreck the look of my Saturn.

I don't like them for reasons like this: I was driving behind somebody today with 2 stickers on their car. The first one was something about freedom or war is bad, something like that. And then the second sticker, was one of those I heart Ferndale in this case.

Interesting that this person will defend the country on the back of the car, and then on the same bumper, they've put a sticker I love my hometown. And these were given equal placement on her car.

Who know you love it. You live there, I just don't understand why you feel the need to scream that on your bumper.

Night Moves

Did you ever wake up in the middle of the night convinced somebody was trying to break into your house?

But then you realized it was the downstairs neighbors coming home, but you were awake then. So you got up to use the bathroom, and were then afraid to flush, because you thought the imaginery killer would hear you?

Me neither.

A Phone Call or Ten

I don't know where to start. If I started at the begining, I'd be here all day.

So let me say this: About a month ago, my dad and I were going to hang out for what I assumed would be a nice father daughter afternoon. You see, I work in advertising and as a small glimpse of excitment, a commericial that I'd worked on for Mercury was running in the Landmark theater chain across the country.

There are two locations in Michigan. One near my dad's house and one near mine. I drove to the one near my dad's house as it would be more convienant for him. And I was trying to be accomdating.

When I get to his house, and he is drunk. It's 2:00ish in the afternoon, and my dad has been recovering from lung cancer. And he is also chain smoking. I, of course got very upset, but we try and go to the movie anyway. He does watch my trailer, but then falls asleep during the movie. When the movie is over, he wants to take me for a hamburger. So we go to a bar. (his choice)

After I eat my bar burger we hang out for a while, and then we finally leave. Insert cheesy after school special dialogue here, where I try to tell him how his behavior is hurtful to himself and to me. Blah, blah blah.

On the way home, I cry and cry. And decide that I need a break for a little while. So, I don't call my dad. Don't check on him. None of my usual behavior.

I decide to choose myself this time. To try and make my own life as healthy as I can, and don't get all wrapped up in his drama. And I was doing fine. Realize that had my dad called me at all during this time, I would've picked up the phone and at least said hi. But my phone never rang.

Till Saturday night. At 11:30 pm. I was asleep, and my phone was off. My dad leaves a message asking if I've been murdered or kidnapped, he knows I live alone and is worried all of a sudden. ( He also sounded drunk)

The next day Sunday, I was busy and didn't get back to him. I had gone to writer's group, and then to have dinner with my cousins.

I wake up this morning, to 4 voicemails. My dad has escalted his calling. Phoning me twice, my mom, and my brother Shane.

WTF!! Just because I don't call a person back within 12 hours, who hasn't spoken to me in over a month, he assumes I've died. I finally get a hold of him this morning, on my way to work, and he says it just occured to him that he hasn't spoken to me in over a month.

"Yes, I know I say."

Then my dad says, "Well, I'm your dad. You should make more of an effort."

"I said so, I'm your daughter. You should make an effort too."

And that was basically it. A few more things were said, and the master of maniupation hung up.

In the future, should I be murdered, you will find out soon enough. News will spread.

And if I was dead, I can't call anyway.

Blockhead Writer

Just got home from writer's group where I once again faliled to submit a story. Yet, I stay in the group knowing full well that my lack of writing will only get worse if I leave.

I'd last left my group with a half formed portrait of Bj. Perhaps I will work on this story for my next submission. The brick wall that I continue to bang my head against is the fact that obviously stories need a point, and a reason to be told.

And that's what I'm missing. My reasons for writing them. I usually write to help myself deal with something I may be upset about, and I have been frustrated with BJ and his confusion about his life. Maybe that's where my story needs to go.

All I know is that I better getting writing it, before my free software expires. :)

Till tomorrow.

Cleveage Cam

Being a women, I realized that men were drawn to cleavage and breasts in general.

I just never knew why. Until today. I'm wearing a shirt that is modestly low cut and a I have a sweater on over it, so I don't like I'm bar hopping in the office.

But I can see down my own shirt, and I have to tell you that is very distracting.

I'm not a lesbian, and I don't normally pay any attention of that area, unless I'm just making sure my girls are well covered.

Yet today, I've got the clearest view down my own top, and I can't help but look. It's like a solar eclipse. I can't look away.

I finally understand the breast draw a little bit. It has been a nice mental break, but I'm bored with my breasts, (guess I'm not a man) and now it's back to headlines.

Manic no More

Here I am. It's Monday.

I don't have much to say. Other than I'm glad it's Monday night and not Monday morning. I did make it to the gym this morning, so I guess that is a good thing.

Waiting for my new favorite show, Studio 60. It's actually the only show of the new season that I'm actually been watching.

Too much to pay attention to with the new shows. Lately, it seems I have a minimal attention span. It used to be better. To correct this problem, I've decided to start reading more books, as opposed to the thousands of magazines that I pile up around me where ever I can.

Don't get me wrong. My life of the magazine is going no place, but I'm going to make a concentrated effort to stop cheating on my books with my magazines. What can you do?

I love the written word. I'm a junkie andI can never get my full fix.

BA

I feel blah and oh so blue.

And why?

Well, I'm not talking about on this public space. This is mostly an exercise so I remember how to type. Sometimes even if I'm not really working, I can fake it as long as my hands are moving across the keyboard. And that's all you can do sometimes.

I can't wait for the weekend. Sleep and clean. That's my plan.

Discover the Discovery

Back to School

No, not Rodney Dangerfield. Me, and some other friends that all went to Ferris State University in Big Rapids. This past weekend, we gathered to celebrate homecoming weekend with some Lemon drop shots at our old hangout, Shooters.

It's weird how little had changed, but it felt totally foreign. Probably because now I could afford a drink and a tip, and I could drink any beer I felt like, instead of the special of the day, served luke warm in an oversized pitcher.

I had fun, and I even visited the men's room. (Much shorter line) In fact the only line was the row of men lined up at the urinals.

It's always a bit unsettling to visit your old college town. At least I accomplished what I'd planned to. I'd studied copywriting in the College of Business, which meant I also had to take accounting, finance satistics, and a whole array of managment classes.

But in the end, I love words more than numbers and did become a copywriter. And Ferris wouldn't have been the same without Kari, Karlene, Tonya and Michelle.

Go BullDogs!

How Sweet it is to be loved by you

Happy Birthday to you.

Happy Birthday Dear Mom,

Happy Birthday to you.

Today as you might have guessed, is my mom's birthday. A milestone for both of us.

You see, I was born way too early and was supposed to die, but it was a trick lie I pulled on the doctor. I'm 33 and going strong.

My mom is awesome. She's one of the happiest, most upbeat people you can meet. And she is always so friendly to everyone she meets. I'm pretty sure she gets that from her parents, as my grand-parents would make friends with the waiter who was waiting on them at Bill Knapps.

She always beleives the very best about everybody and is a great cheerleader and inspiration to all of her kids.

And she's an amazing artist.

Love you Mom.

Happy Birthday

Today is my mom's birthday, which is a milestone for her and obviously for me.

So, let's start with a song.

Stop

Another weird day in the world of advertising. But since I'm about to go to sleep, talking about my day isn't a good way to relax.

So instead, I'll talk about my weekend. Finally got my brakes fixed on my car. No more loud noises, ease of stopping, and general safetyness.

Awesome!

Thank you Jeff. He is somebody who has always been there for me, and I truly appreciate him. Jeff goes out of his way to help any one. And the thing about jeff is this: If you're nice to him, he's nice to you.

I love ya Jeff, thanks for always being there. And thanks for explaining the difference between Dot 3 and Dot 4 brake fluid.

Who knew?

In other news, I went to Octoberfest at the Detroit Zoo. That was entertainment! Shots of Jager, a polka band doing Jimmy Buffett, German beer with a hot chocolate chaser.

That's it for now.

The Red, White and Blue

This morning on my way to work, I was driving behind a Mercury Sable with a bumper sticker that said, Proud to be an American. To further drive the point home, their license plate also said, Proud to be an American.

Is that really necessary? Although I understand the need to repeat. repeat. repeat.

I work at a place that is all about repetition. The company motto seems to be if it's worth saying, it's worth saying 3 times.

Once more with feeling, I'm proud to be an American. I just don't put the sticker on my car to share that view with the world.

It's America though so decorate your car any way you see fit.

Creativity Zero

Tah duh!

I've had no creative energy today. None, zero, zip, nada. Luckily, nothing's due today and this stuff comes in waves. I'm hoping to catch a whole boat load on my way home tonight, or maybe the creative fairies will battle for space under my pillow,next to a year's worth of old teeth.

If you're paying close attention, don't be alarmed. I don't really leave old teeth under my pillow anymore.

In fact, any type of magical entity standing over my bed in the middle of the night, it would scare the shit out of me. So keep your 50 cents, you floaty bastards.

Ah well. I blame it on Monday and my emotional up-heavel which is the equivilant of puking for a few hours. But as Scarlett O'Hara said, "Tommorow is another Day."

Don't Stop

I still can't prevent forrest fires.

I'm working hard to wear my fireman's hat and protective gear.

I've had a crappy weekend, and I can feel myself sliding toward depression, but I'm trying not to let that happen.

Try to focus on good things, like getting a new start someplace new, saving money, continue going to the gym, I've been eating less choclate, no fast food.

Other things will fall into place. Some things I can control, and other things well, I press on. And stop picking up the phone. And I hate to say it, but I'm going to have to stop beleiving.

I don't beleive in Santa Claus, and I'm starting to lose faith in the modern equivilant.

GYM Dandy

I did it again. I woke up and went to the gym. It was early, it was hard, and I'm tired. But I also know if I would've kept sleeping, I'd have even less energy now.

The gym is good for me. This I know. So, I press on.

In other news, actually there isn't a lot of other news right now. Amy called me last night from Denver. She is settling in, and things are going well.

As for me, well, I'm not depressed, but I don't feel totally happy now either. I'm working on changing that.

And yeah, that's vague, but I don't care. It makes sense to me. :)

The State of My Union

Party of One. Lover of many.

I woke up feeling surly today. I don't know why. That just happens sometimes.