You can run me over with your 18-wheeler, but you can't keep me down

I said four life-altering words today: Make me a brunette.

I grew up brunette. I did a few rounds of red in college. Before the wedding I had a few streaks of honey thrown in there for some contrast. Since then, I have gotten progressively more blonde. And, suddenly and without really trying, I was a blonde.

I understand that sometimes, life takes you in unexpected directions. Blonde was not a country I meant to live in, only visit. Lately, I felt like it was time to pack up and move on.

Hello brunette! This may be the only trend cue I will ever take from Britney Spears (yes, it is that dark!). My eyes have NEVER been this blue. I can't stop smiling. I feel like a different person. I have been grumbling for a year about growing my hair out, about missing my short spike. Now I am thinking I was really missing my brunette self. The self that is strong and fierce and ballsy. Love me, hate me, just don't get in my way.

Towanda!!

From this moment on.

Three.

Three years ago, I did something I thought I would never do. I put on a big, white dress, walked down an aisle and got married. Why never? I really thought I wouldn't find anyone cool enough to bother with. Then I met Punky.

We loaded up our hiking gear into the truck this morning. Nuschler was so excited to see my boots, my pack, water bottles, treats. He was spinning around the kitchen (insert mental picture of giant dog spinning in smallish kitchen). We went for a late breakfast at the Rustic Inn Cafe, one of our favorites, and then to Gooseberry. It was fantastically quiet there, so someone, I won't mention any names, got to run free and roll around in all sorts of foul-smelling things. We played in the stream above the upper falls.

We ate blizzards on the way home and stopped at Russ Kendall's for some smoked fish. Then home to open presents.

Lovely.

When all your hope is gone, Move along, move along

Do you believe in luck? We (meaning me, my mom and the Bec) just wanted a terrible movie all about luck. I have been called lucky many times in my life, but I'm not sure how much I like the idea of it. Luck doesn't get the job done. It doesn't pay the bills. It provides you with opportunities, but is it really luck that you take them? I don't think so.

Then there is karma. Do good get good. Do bad get bad. When my crazy ex-boss sold his company for $80 million, my mom told me to pretend he owed $81 million to the bank. Because good things happen to people who do bad/stupid things. And terrible things happen to good people. I like the idea that all you send into the world comes back to you three-fold. I just wonder how far to take it.

Does my car not starting today mean pay back? No, just means I should have had it looked at when I noticed it was turning over poorly. Still, I may follow Michelle's advice and put on some armor.

This is your last chance to dance the tango

I have been thinking a lot lately about drama and blogs. The biggest problem with this medium is being careful to say what you mean and not share too much information, especially if it is not your dirty laundry to air.

I have a brilliant friend who seems to want to start a blog, but claims to not know what to talk about. What I love most is reading people's take on every day experiences. I can't be the only one who finds irony in the world, who laughs hysterically at her dog (especially when he gets himself stuck in the pet door like today- nearly peed myself) or wants to open discussion on lighter topics. I'm not trying to prove I'm normal, just hoping there are people out there equally wacky, but not psycho.

However, friend, do not blog the mundane details of your life. Don't wax philosophical as you are not a guru and this is not a mountain. Just tell me I'm not going crazy alone.

(Granted, I could be wrong. It could be that no one reads my blog, as I am as interesting as formica, and should shut up immediately...)

Interesting weekend nuggets:
-Had my first martini at the new martini bar in town. There was an elevated stage for a single dancer. It was very tempting...
-My team went on to the finals (without me) at the Dragon Boat races and own a silver medal. I'm still in pain, with pride.
-Yesterday, a random little boy spat choke-cherries at me. I see him getting into politics someday...

Wishin and hopin and thinkin and prayin

I saw another bear today. He was crossing the road in front of me. Unlike when I was sixteen with my permit, I didn't hit him. I did, however, stop in the empty road to watch for a little bit.

Bears are beautiful creatures. Not exactly graceful, but cool none the less. They seem rather inert. You can go to the mall and make yourself a stuffed bear with your choice of frilly outfit. A pink dress with matching bonnet? Of course. Yet, in real life, merely approaching a bear while carrying a pink dress is a bad idea. They are nature's equivalent to your bi-polar boss: Looks benign from afar but reduces you to a fetal position in seconds.

Tomorrow I am participating in my first Dragon Boat races. I just joined the team yesterday, so I go without any practice and no clue about rowing. Ah, the things I will do for a free t-shirt. Then I have a bachelorette party, where I will be regifting the sleazy gifts I received at my own such event. Hope the bride like edible lotions...

Nolite te bastardes carborundorum.

When you are driving with three teenagers (with no relation) and your mother, what do you talk about? I found myself in this position today, listening to mixed cds of new and old music. There is little more sobering than hearing a recycled song from twenty years ago (which was really done forty years ago). I find that if I am ever brilliant or cool, those moments come in short bursts. Flashes of fabulous light. But can you be cool and with your mom at the same time?

Mom has gotten better about not dragging out the cute, but embarrassing stories of my childhood (yes, I used to beg for extra credit, mostly because I am a big nerd but also because they were usually the more creative projects and, yes, I often didn't know about an upcoming family trip until the day before and, yes, I did try to take my dress off during my aunt's wedding but it was hot and I was three). Still, what to say?

So I oscillated between speaking teen and speaking mom. And now I'm tired.

Today's title is not a song, as per usual. It is rather my mantra for the next two weeks. I'm so stressed out and crappy that I can't keep a thought for more than thirty seconds and would really just like to hide until October. Someone buy me a stiff drink....

Up, up, up, up, up, up, up, up, up, up, up, up

As I was looking through my library for my mini yoga instruction book (picturing yoga nuts who clearly do nothing all day except yoga), I came across my goddess cards. My dear friend Kathy gave me the cards. She used to give me all sorts of cool things, like a lavender eye-relaxation pillow. It is very relaxing, but makes me go temporarily blind from the lavender.

The goddess cards are meant to be shuffled and then you pick one or drop one and meditate on it. The card I pick a few days ago showed a woman with a rainbow on her flowing white dress, a baby in her lap and swans swimming in the background. The woman is harvesting carrots and turnips. Since I am finally comfortable around pregnant women again, I find this unfunny. The universe is not without a sense of irony, Neo.

Just now I picked a card with a goddess who seems to have created/encouraged/enabled a phoenix to rise up from a fire. I was thinking a few hours ago of having a cleansing fire, ridding myself of bad things that I need to release.

I like thinking of myself as a phoenix.

(Oh, and after writing the title to this post, I realized "up" is a weird, little word.)

Together at last. Together forever.

P. Unky finally came home last night. After five days of not seeing his papa, Nuschler didn't know what to do with himself.

In dog years, P was gone for a little over a month, which led Nuschler to act like he was dead. At the beginning of the week, "Where's your papa?" would elicit an interested look and a quick listen for random sounds of movement in the house. By the end of the week, he looked at me with that "Stop toying with my emotions" look.

P thinks I only like having him home so that the dog has someone else to hang out with. Yup. That's most of it. There are few more annoying things than 100 pounds of fur perpetually in your way when you are late and wearing black. Scoot!

This morning, things are back to normal. Nuschler got his morning pets with a "fresh" sock in his mouth and I got to wake up without being watched by the brown eyes of accusation.

No more drama

I have had theories about drama since high school, when my "friend" thought I was suicidal after writing a poem about leaving (which was about going to summer school away from home). She was grounded from the phone and spent the night worrying about me. She could have had her mom call mine. But no. I understood that this was not about me at all, simply her own need for drama.

At the moment, there is a lot of drama in my life. I am in a wedding in a couple, short weeks and I am trying my best to create DDZs: De-dramatization Zones. I suppose one would argue that weddings are a production, which naturally leads to drama. Ok, ok. I'll put down my drama stick and enjoy the show.

And the rest of the drama in my life? I gotta shake it off (I usually cannot stomach miss carey, but this song is fabulous.).

I can't live with or without you

Punky is out of town for work, so it's just me and the puppy. Last night, Nuschler was waiting for him to come home, waiting for their playtime to begin. They play rough, your classic boy and his dog stuff. Nusch also tries to hug (and then some) P's leg when he goes up and down stairs. Last night, when I locked up for the night, N looked so sad and frantically searched the house for Punky.

So, while I am in charge of all things puppy, I am also busy getting the house up to Sara standards. My goal is to have one day of lovely, clean house before I let P back in to mess it up as only boys know how to do. If P was gone for longer (and I had a chunk of money and a solid understanding of plumbing) I would be doing major remodeling.

Ah, so tempting...

Oh Mickey you're so fine, you're so fine you blow my mind

What does it mean to be done? What does it mean to accomplish something?

We grow up finishing things left and right, at which point we are celebrated. You finish your homework, you complete the second grade, you graduate from elementary school. Gold stars all around.

Last night I planned out a bunch of wedding activities for the next few weeks for my friend. I have been putting it off for a while now, mostly due to circumstances out of my control. So I stopped panicking and planned. Now, I feel accomplished.

Professionally, I experience many starts, but not that many finishes. While this is a good thing, that feeling of accomplishment is trickier. So I bought stickers so I can break up the goals of each day into smaller chunks and get mini feelings of accomplishment. Way to go!

Movin to the country, gonna eat a lot of peaches.

It's a chilly day in the neighborhood. And I'm liking it.

I had to put on a long-sleeved t-shirt and socks. I don't think I have opened my sock drawer in months. And there they were, waiting patiently for me to get cold enough to visit.

I actually reorganized my kitchen this morning. The jelly jars finally have some space, water bottles are finally all together and even the menus and loose recipes have a 3-ring-bound home. I've been meaning to do this for a long time. I was giddy giving Punky the tour. He's just happy the blender has permanent counter space.

Love will open every door

This evening, I had a business appointment (perfectly legal, thank you) that ended up being at a scary house on a scary block. When I first arrived, no one was home. I even called. When no one answered, I fled the scene quickly.

Once I was back home, the young lady I had the appt. with called. We had our times confused. We decided I would drive right back. Oh how I didn't want to go. But, I knew there had to be something in it. God wanted me there, tonight. Crabby or not.

Going back over the bridge, I gave myself the "Why are you such a snob? What kind of liberal are you?" talk. No matter what was behind that door, I was going in with only kindness and love.

I had the privilege of working with three ladies, all total sweethearts. They were THRILLED to hang out with me. They will be great customers (as well as bring in other new customers), but more importantly, they had fun.

Praise God from whom all blessing flow.

Fill us with the light of day

I finally have internet access on my computer again. Here is Nuschler in Wisconsin. You can see why he is my muse. Here also is Nusch with my new bud, John. We tortured the dog so much when he was a puppy (specifically so he would be fabulous around kids) that he does nothing but look annoyed when attacked by toddlers.

Side note. On Sunday, we sang Joyful, joyful, which is one of my favorite songs in all the world. I am a BIG fan of Ludwig. I once was hired because I answered the "why would you be a good _____?" questions with "I am not afraid of Beethoven". To move my soul, I listen to the soundtrack to Immortal Beloved in the dark.

Now I am glory bound

At movie night this evening, we were planning what we will watch next month, which is otherwise known as September. I used to hate this time of year. I loved the freedom of summer as a kid, so the beginning of school was over-whelming. I'm also directionally challenged, so a new school with a new lay-out was especially scary.

Nowadays, I enjoy the arrival of new office supplies, new organizational ideas. I get WAY too geeked out about file folders. Still, I am in denial about September.

Perhaps, like renaming March Trudge, we should call September Chocolate.

I always look forward to Chocolate.

A new version of me

You will now find out the depth to which my geekness goes.

While I was working in CO, my HR friend showed me a book about boss types. We had deduced that our boss was a "vampire"-type of boss: Soul-less and wanting to suck out your essence. Being a huge fan of Buffy, I started developing certain "weapons of defense" whenever the vamp came around. I am not above hiding in the ladies' room.

Now, I am starting to recognize other forms of vampires in my life. I know way too many people who see positive energy and do their best to squash it immediately. Don't get me wrong, I am not calling these people evil. They are simply destructive in small ways that are not helpful to either party.

Since reason rarely works, my only defense is the voice in my head, the one that tells me I don't have to make everyone agree with me, I don't have to save anyone, I don't have to prove myself to anyone but me and there is nobility in being a positive force in a negative world.

These are my greatest struggles right now. What is your defense?

I've got a secret, miniature camera

I really just don't know what to say.

Back in July, I told you about how I had found the blog of my ex. I said I was going to keep blogging anyway, dangerous as it may be.

Now, I have been found. Since there is no safe, all I can be is fine with it.

I was thinking the other day about how blessed my life is. Yes, there are many things I want to do and improve, but really I'm blessed.

Yesterday, I received a cookbook from my parents in which my cousin Rachel had written comments and suggestions. It's so cool! I have a church cookbook with some of my mom's recipes in it that was owned by my Grandma Sly. She had written suggestions and comments as well. These are precious things.

My aunt had given me a New Y0rk Times cookbook when I graduated from college. I can't read it, let alone cook from it. I should write some "comments and suggestions" in it and send it on. hehehe.

Coming out of my cage and I was doin' just fine

For the past week, I have been driving to my parents' house to take care of their gardens. It has been many hours of picking raspberries and watering tomatoes. Yesterday, I was so hot and annoyed, I nearly lit the raspberry patch on fire. Instead, I went back today, my final day of duty, to pick just a few more. The end is near and I am happy to be done going over there for a while.

Except, I left my day planner there.

I am a moderate planner user. I don't plan my day by the second, but if you want me to be somewhere at a specific time, you best tell me when I have my planner at hand. I can remember most of what is in there right now (and have started a contingency planner), but I'm hurting for my list of phone numbers. I also left my notebook there, in which I write my lists, my ideas, and my plans. Yes, I could drive over there. However, with the gas prices as they are, I am making do.

What is the lesson here? I should use my PDA for more than just Jawbreaker.