Baby it's cold outside

Oh man is it cold. I bundled up for a walk with the Nuschler (it's been a few days so he is juicy!). The cord to my ear phones froze after a bit. Not a good sign.

It's the perfect day to curl up under a mountain of quilts, drink hot tea/coffee/cocoa, read a good book (Jane Austin? Christopher Moore? David Sedaris?), listen to cool music and warm out ("chill out" seems like an inappropriate phrase).

But, alas, I need groceries. No Austin for me.

Side note: Our church is doing a welcoming seminar that focuses on hospitality in the church. I figure, if they could teach me how to approach visitors inside the church, maybe those skills could also transfer to locations outside the church as well. Bring on the social skills!

If you know what I am talking about with this seminar, I expect to see you there!

Let's get it started in here

I'm in the mood to start something, or maybe a few things. I tried to take a little nap this afternoon, but my mind was buzzing with ideas.

I want to start a wacky new business in town. Something unique, never heard of before. Something really fresh.

I want to start protesting. I want to be the one at the anti-gay marriage rally with the sign that says "Gays are great- Let them set a date!"

I want to start wearing lots of buttons. I keep telling Bec that we need a button maker. I want one for 4th Sundays that says "I rely on grace", as pushing the button for the presentation is not mindless at all. Then I'll make a Nuschler button for my dad and he'll never take it off.

I want to start that Gen X outreach group. I recently read an article about how reality tv is all about baby boomers bullying the younger generations. This had not occurred to me before, but it's totally true (consider comb-over man and the Brit music producer). The article said that the moral is that the bully always wins. This falls in line with why I feel sick and tired of being treated like a wisdomless idiot child. What would that button look like?

Are you feeling it? What do you want to start?

Few times I've been 'round that track so it's not just gonna happen like that

The last three days have been absolutely nuts. Once I'm done with this, a well-deserved passing-out is in order, so bear with me on sentence structure.

Twice in the past two days someone has called me pretty. And while I have learned how to take a compliment (Say "Thank you", smile and nod, try not to argue with them or suggest an eye exam), this floors me. Say what you will, but in my mind, I will always be the five-year-old tomboy with boys for friends and two long braids. Cute, sure. Pretty? Pretty will have to grow on me.

I attended a women's networking lunch today in an attempt to hand out resumes. Self-promotion is not my strong suit- I prefer to grow on people like a friendly fungus. But I went, schmoozed, threw resumes around, pretended there was a remote chance I would remember any names for more than 2 minutes and then something amazing happened:

I heard my burning bush.

The speaker talked about inventions, about developing big ideas and bringing them into fruition. Not four years ago I was talking about a patent. I was writing a business plan. I was thinking my big ideas. And there I was at a random event with random people being hit over the head with a clear sign.

Not random at all.

Meditate on this I shall.

You gotta have friends

I had coffee with a friend this morning, someone who is full of energy, ideas and connections. She is that rare combination of down-to-earth and encouraging and inspiring. I went home absolutely WIRED. (My mother can attest to this as I called her) Then I vacuumed to burn off some energy.

I'm not the kind of person who prays a lot. I find my thoughts throughout the day to be a running conversation with God. "God, tell me what to say" "God, how to I fix this problem?" "God, my butt is HUGE." I say thanks a lot too, smile a lot.

A while back I asked God for some friends, some people my age and in my same circumstance to kick around with. And, while I am always meeting new people, three come to mind as new friends the most: The businesswoman, the scientist and the student. I don't even know if these will be life-long, but for now they rock!

Pretty cool.

Nothing's gonna change my world

I enjoyed writing Sunday's list so much that I think I'll try bullet points today.

• There's a few hoodlums breaking into houses in my hood. During the day, I'm angry and at night I'm scared. Part of me wants to band together with neighbors and patrol the area. The other wants my bat near me at all times.
• I had to make an emergency puppy food run last night and ran into Michelle and Theo making an emergency gecko food run. Punky is usually in charge of these things, so talk about fate!
• Point of irony: Donny changed his name to Don, wanting to convey a more serious image. But is that not him making a goofy face on a billboard on Trinity?
• After years of straightening my hair, lamenting it's sad, flat nature, and making vicious Spinal Tap references, I finally figured out how to embrace my wavy hair and scrunch it. Fabulous!
• There's a commercial on about stopping childhood obesity, which does need to be addressed, but it seems to put the responsibility on moms to fix it. This really bothers me and I don't really know why. It would be also great if we had government food and drug agencies who cared enough to stop the production of hydrogenated oils. I bought snack bars that boasted fiber content and forgot to look for h.o.'s. Silly me, thought healthy in one way would be healthy in another...

What have I, what have I, what have I done to deserve this?

I've been trying to log in to blog all weekend. I finally figured out how to get in through the back door.

I was going to tell you about the LONG walk I took Nuschler on yesterday morning and how he was a pooped puppy all night. He was laying across the bottom of the front door like one of those draft catchers. Too funny.

I was going to tell you about a magazine, which has a list of hot things you don't have to do in 2007. First on the list is blog all your secrets. Last is cardio pole dancing.

I was going to tell you about how I am feeling judged and therefore become judgmental, or I am judgmental and therefore feel judged. Jane, how do I get off this vicious cycle?

I was going to talk about watching Grey's and Ugly with Punky asleep on the couch opposite me. I wept during Grey's and tried to keep it quiet. And I laughed so hard during Ugly I was gripping my chest trying to stifle it. Both so, so good.

I was going to talk about how my friend's 7-year-old asked if Punky and I are having sex (they don't watch Will & Grace anymore) and her husband asked me all about kids and our possible inabilities. Goodness. Where have good manners gone?

And finally, I could talk about this nagging feeling that it is time for big change. I'll keep Punky and the pooches.

But, no, I'm now too frustrated to blog.

Goodnight my angel time to close your eyes

For the last two weeks I have been on baby watch. A friend of mine was due this week and needed someone to watch her two daughters while she and her husband ran to the hospital.

I was thrilled, as I love her kids. They are totally me and Bec when we were kids. The older one is very serious, asks a lot of questions, needs things to be just so and responds poorly to change. Yeah, that's Bec. The younger one is the wild child, demanding lots of attention, constant wardrobe changes, hugs and cuddling. Yeah, that's me.

I got the call last night and ran over to their house. I was ready to camp out on the couch all night. Shortly after they left, Gil, the youngest, tried to crawl into bed with her parents and found them missing. She fell apart a little, figured out I was there and decided my sleeping bag would work too. I only let her stay a few minutes - there are some lines you just can't cross with other people's kids, even innocent cuddling- then back to bed.

Sometime, not now and not any time real soon, I'm going to have little cuddlers of my own.

The baby was born very early in the morning, very quickly and healthy. A girl named Sonya. Or Sonia. I was woken up so many times in the night that my brain is fuzzy.

Dream a little dream with me

I've been having very vivid dreams lately.

Last night (or more accurately this morning), I dreamt that the megamall decided that, as long as people are willing to come from all over the world to shop, they should be prepared for beings from all over the universe and beyond to come and shop.

This renovation involved a new hotel connected to the mall that could only be accessed by a space ship and a tube to crawl through to get to the room (Because, of course, other planets would not have issues with animal hormones or hydrogenated plant oils and would be tiny things that liked to crawl).

With me was my sister, my parents and my grandmother all circa late 70's, when we would travel together. Once we got into the room, it was just like the Jetson's - gadgets galore. After playing with all the buttons, which I LOVE to do, I discovered that it was one big room shared by lots of people. I woke up while trying to disarm the security feed.

Interpretation? I should be running around telling people to get ready, they are coming! Call the megamall with an interesting suggestion?

Everythings gonna be alright - No woman, no cry

Lately, I have been addressing cards, stamping them, and putting them in my planner so that, when I have a spare moment, I can write a note to a friend. My friends and I, well, we all seem to be living at a crossroads.

Ours was the generation raised to have it all, to be well educated and full of potential. We have a lot of options and many choices. Our lives would be made easy through science and technology. But a great dishwasher and better birth control does not make those choices easier or simpler. It is, just maybe, a little harder.

I got into a discussion with my boomer dad about parents not wanting their children to make mistakes. My argument is that, while no parent enjoys being in the bleachers of life while their children screw up, I'd rather see my hypothetical kids take risks, make a few mistakes, and trust themselves to be resourceful enough to come out of it okay. If you don't make room for mistakes, you won't have room for success either.

So I'm writing to my friends. Within each of us is a hole we can't seem to fill, a baby that can't be conceived, a house that can't be bought, a job that can't be found, a marriage that can't be unbroken, a debt that can't be repaid. Spread a little hope, share a little grace.

I have been weighing my options for getting more involved at my church. I'm thinking a gen-x outreach program would be great.

As I write this, I am thinking of my own mistakes and the many lessons that I have learned. At the same time, a puppy and his master are playing on the stairs and I hear thumps, growls, barks and uproarious laughter. A beautiful moment.

It's not getting what you want, it's wanting what you've got

In my quest for organization and a more-minimalized household, I have been thinking about other things I have that I don't really want. And, no, I won't talk about excess pounds or that extra foot of hair on my head.

I was thinking about my Master's degree in Organic Chemistry. While I can't call it a mistake, as that path brought me to Punky, who is not a mistake only an occasional annoyance, its not my greatest accomplishment. And now it is my definition, one that I must explain over and over again. Why do I have a degree I no longer want? Well, sometimes it is more fun learning how to do something than doing it 40-70 hours a week.

While some people lie on job applications about their criminal pasts, their momentary indiscretions, their only-slightly-legal citizenship, I would like to lie about my education. I have pieces of paper verifying that I have done time in College State Penitentiary. Isn't that enough?

So, what should I do with this degree? I'd love to sell it in a garage sale, throw it on ebay, barter it for land - make it into something useful. If I could donate it to charity that would be a sweet write-off.

But, no, it has my name on it. And I guess I have to accomplish something greater than it so that this degree is only a part of me, not the sum of me.

Oh where, oh where has my little dog gone?

Two things you should know about me:

1. I am directionally challenged. Punky knows that, should he ever want to be rid of me, all he need do is drop me off in the woods or in the middle of the megamall. The woods are full of the same trees and the mall is full of the same three stores, so I would be hopelessly lost either way.

2. Regardless of the fact that I see myself as a force to be reckoned with, I am very approachable. Especially at certain stores where employees wear red. Even if I am not wearing red myself, I am asked where things are.

Today, a woman asked me for directions to a pizza place while I was at the above store. Yes, I do live here and have for the majority of my life. Still does not mean I know exactly where things are and how to instruct others to get there. And yes I do know my left from my right. It's the practical use of those words that are a hiccup for me.

I really do hope she figured it out...

Hello Mr. Zebra

Expectations are always difficult. I have been working on my response to them for a while now and am getting more comfortable about not pleasing people.

I remain, however, a puppy pleaser.

The Nuschler got two walks yesterday, one rather long one with me in the morning and another with our friend in the afternoon. I was hoping this would mean a rather tired puppy today, one that wouldn't demand a walk, but no.

He has mastered the art of looking pathetic, of sighing and moaning, of always being in the way until he gets his way and, of course, always keeping an eye on his audience. I've never been the mom of a teenager, but I'm guessing it's rather similar. Granted, Nusch never treats me like his personal atm...

So today, after another long walk (made entertaining for me also thanks to my new mp3 player), I have a pleased, tired, leaving me alone doggie and the ability to get something else done...

Sorry, I'm not home right now, walking in a spiderweb, so leave a message and I'll call you back

I enjoy wrong numbers. I kinda like talking to random strangers and I'm usually nice about letting them know they dialed incorrectly or got the wrong number somehow.

I even think it's funny when they argue, as if I really am the person they seek. It's tempting to "confess" and tell them to stop calling me. Odds would be good that I am doing someone a favor.

Today, a dear, sweet woman called and sang me "Happy Birthday". Well, not me. Someone named Janice or something. But still, there was a smile on my face and it broke my heart to have to tell her she had the wrong number. She told me the number she was trying, which was very different and, before she hung up, she told me to enjoy my birthday.

How sweet is that?

This is where we used to live

It is a magical time of year. It is that time of year that we all put on another sweater, make some hot cocoa/tea/Irish creme and get down to the heart-warming task of...

Organizing.

It starts with the Christmas gifts, the ritual of putting them away and incorporating them into our lives. Then the decorations, putting them back into storage, thrilled to regain the space they occupied.

I don't know about you, but I'm in a big, bad pitch it/dump it/donate it/shred it/recycle it/get it out of my house mood. It's all baking my karma, dumping on my chi. I refuse to buy more shelves, bins, organizers. I just want less stuff.

I want the stuff I do have to be the important things. Or, at the very least, the working things. All else must go!

Ahh, feels good!

We all are portions for foxes

I like moving around. I love wandering around a new city/town on foot to find the little nooks and crannies that make a city interesting. I love finding the best bookstore or coffeehouse nearest my home.

Now, I live in a burb so close to the mall that I decide which way to turn out of my driveway based on where I go shopping first. There is no ma and pa grocery store nearby to grab the three items I need for dinner. I frequent the one gas station because if they close, I'm really in trouble.

The cool place to walk to is the community club, where Nuschler and I have spent countless hours chasing frisbees and, like today, catching pucks on the ice. There are tons of places to get coffee and books, but only within walking distance if I like a long, hilly hike. I will be thinking about that when we finally get around to looking for house number two.

And, while I don't pretend to be living in a big metropolitan city, I forget just how woodsy it is here. I am reminded quickly, like on Monday when our neighbor spent a few hours outside boiling the head of a deer.

Yuck.

Happy New Year!

On my inspiration board I have a note from a friend that says:

"Life According to Elvis: The three things you need in life:
1. Something to Do
2. Someone to Love
3. Something to look forward to"

I've been looking forward to 2007 for a long time. This is the year that Punky graduates from college and we get to act like a normal married couple (or at least pretend to be normal like everyone else).

I was not a fan of 2006 either. Yesterday at church, we were invited to write down bits of emotional baggage from 2006 and put it in a fire, which was lovely. (I would tell you what they were but they are no longer mine to tell- I let them go. Just picture me center-stage running the media system writing down my painful/sad/angry bits and working on my poker face.) The theme of the sermon was relying on grace.

I all too often forget about grace. Here's a good example: I have recently had blog constipation. I can't seem to write something I deem meaningful or worth your time. I start writing about how my wardrobe is now shifting from pink to green and how I feel like it's a sign of a shift in my mood/focus. But then I think someone random from reality will comment on my wearing green and I will feel exposed. Or I'll write something that offends someone. It is near impossible to speak from your mind and heart without offending anyone.

So I will rely on grace. And you can comment on one of the three new green scarves I got for Christmas and I'll be fine. I'll probably even laugh....

By the way, we took Nusch on a LONG walk today with another puppy and then bathed him, making him the cutest ball of tired fluff I have ever seen. Smells good too!