Maggie's Mind

Haiku Friday 7/25/08

2008-07-24T20:28:00.000-07:00

俳句の金曜日

(note: my bachelor has 2 syllables because it can, just saying)

It's hard to believe
that my sweet sixteen summer
was twenty years back.

Yet I'm still creeped out
thinking about that one night
we spent with the ghosts.

Ever hear of it?
Bachelor's Grove Cemetery?
Um, OK, click these.

"Grown up" kids are dumb.
A bad idea, plus a car
equals not so good.

I didn't believe,
but still, it's so damn creepy,
we stayed overnight.

Just a few hours,
suspension of disbelief,
cigarettes and lies.

Tired minds see things.
Real or imagined, skin crawls.
Fear always feeds fear.

Did that branch just move?
Did you see a flash of light?
Are we here alone?

When I look back now
I'm afraid for us back then,
not because of ghosts.

I see the dangers
being in the wrong places,
too vulnerable.

(There's more where this goes,
with the same guy, same summer;
I'll tell it. Someday.)

In the morning light
we headed back to the car
(the car where he lived).

Uneventful night
inside the cemetery
but not outside it.

A broken window.
The creeptacular factor
was not lost on us.

Thursday Thirteen 7/24/08 - 27th Edition

2008-07-24T08:03:00.000-07:00

13 Things on My Desk at Work

Pen cup that includes pens, markers, highlighters, pencils a desk toy twisty thingy (technically it's a Tangle Toys thingy). And my scissors because they are more handy there than in the drawer.

A light green coffee mug for my morning coffee. Get it fast because it's gone by 8:30AM. (And it's not even all that good fresh brewed at 8:00AM.)

A handle-less cup from a restaurant in Japan for my afternoon tea. Burnt hands bring back memories.

A coffee mug I never use because it's too short, but it says "Those who think they know it all are very annoying to those of us who do."-Anonymous. Two syllables: A-men.

A single bottle of water that I keep refilling. Yes, I can get diseases. I'll take my chances.

One of those round in shape and rounded blind spot mirrors made for sideview mirrors on a vehicle (confused? this kind). If people didn't sneak up (sometimes for sport), this would not be necessary.

A second larger and more bold mirror designed to actually sit on your monitor announcing to the sneaker uppers that you hate it when they suddenly appear over your shoulder (it's kind of like these). Mine is huge and bright blue and not on my monitor but strategically placed on my desk because I am stealth like that.

The world's slowest computer. Ever.

A clock radio with Hello Kitty sticker and a label someone once made that just says "Maggie" (makes sense, considering my name). I don't listen to the radio, but I do check the time. Frequently. And it's still not 5, if you wonder like I do.

Two adding machines at opposite ends of my desk because it looks better than counting on my fingers if people are watching me add 7+5.

A single-cup coffee maker. Of Love. I've written about it previously (like the one at the top of that post, but the one on my desk still works), and I even linked back in that post to other posts. It is Love.

A 15 oz bottle of hand sanitizer because ew and ick and yuck and gross in general but also because I know that not everyone does the hand washing ritual after making potty. Gag.

Bunches of other random and miscellaneous stuff including piles of work to be done with the reminder that we have gone the opposite of paperless so that there are at least 89.3 trees on my desk. And a reminder I need another latte. And a camping trip in the forest with alive trees and piney scents far away from work.

Today is smoke-free day 403, and I'm still counting.

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Go, Tabatha! Go, Sherri!

2008-07-23T07:01:00.000-07:00

It's smoke-free day 402 for me, but there are some people hitting some serious milestones, and today is about them.

A big shout out to two of my fellow Chantix bloggers who are at the year mark of living life smoke-free, such a huge milestone! Tabatha and Sherri have been there since near the start of my journey, quitting just about a month after I did, when I was still a little freaked out and needed to find others doing the same thing in order to stay OK, and they both continue to inspire me. Tabatha has kept going strong and without whining no matter what life has put in her path, reminding me that nothing is worth going back to smoking. Sherri has turned quitting smoking into a full-blown betterment of health through serious exercise, bike-style, and has reminded me that there is a bigger picture, that quitting smoking was one part of who and where I want to become (and that I have to work for it!).

Please know that this is no small thing. Seriously.

If you look at the long list, there are not many on it that are both a year plus quit and or still blogging (about anything). The other one, yes, just one (!!!), is:

Nathan who hit a year at 10:18PM on July 2. Nathan makes me want to run (I mean that in a good way, not in a run and hide kind of way), though for now I just walk and bike, but every single runner I see is Nathan reminding me that he's still doing this and that I can, too. He's also quit in the past like I have, so Nathan continuing smoke-free strikes me where I live in a special way.

To say that these folks inspire me is an understatement. Anyone considering quitting and taking the Chantix route should check out these blogs because they are all success stories.

Here's to another year, one day at a time, for all of us!!

PS - If you are on that list but haven't been updating and happen to see this, please give me a shout! If I ever revamp the list, I'd love to point out those still doing this thing.

Standing, Sitting, Breathing, Living

2008-07-22T08:44:00.001-07:00

Today is smoke-free day 401, and time for
HEADS *OR* TAILS - Sit *OR* Stand.

I kind of did both because I'm an overachiever like that and because I woke up in the oddest mood with years worth of thoughts and about 5+ of the ~~worst~~ most painful moments of my life invading and bombarding my mind for no apparent reason. A little whipped cream in my coffee and a little outlet here, and all is mostly peaceful with some of my pet ghosts once again.

Please don't get me wrong; I don't hate that I still sometimes feel things about events that have touched me deeply. It means that I am still human and haven't turned cold or dead inside (or out, either, and that's excellent!).

Stand
when i cannot breathe and
my heart is shaking and
my stomach is unstill and
my knees go weak and
i'm about to collapse and
everyone is watching and
i'm scared and
embarrassed and
my words eke out and
just in between breathlessness and
one small, faint burst at a time and...
You are standing there,
my strength,
the support on which I lean,
and I can breathe (and speak) again.

*****
Sit
As my world was crashing around me
hers was blowing into bits, and
we both wound up
(as daily as possible)
in her kitchen,
broken and drawn together.

We neither had a magic wand:
I couldn't bring back her babies;
She couldn't make my mother not suffer
or become un-terminal.

Scrabble games and tea,
George Winston and talking,
keeping each other alive and upright
just by sitting there.
Together.

Yesterday Once More

2008-07-21T02:44:00.000-07:00

I no longer recall for sure just how I thought I'd be getting around Japan before I moved there for 3 years after college, but I'm pretty sure I thought I'd buy a car because the idea of not having a car seemed more foreign to me than octopus in salad (which is delicious and better than on pizza, if you'd like to know the truth). Due to the paperwork hassle and even nuttier cost for shaken (appropriately pronounced similar to "Shock-en"), the required vehicle inspection that costs the equivalent of $1000+ (every two years!), I never got around to bothering with a car, even if I lived in the rice fields and dreamed of one.

Really, I didn't need a car. Instead I had what the good folks of Japan had relied on for lots of many years. I had a Mamachari.

Mamachari is slangish for something like Mama's Chariot (or maybe an entirely different meaning, but that one sounds good), and it's the shorthand for those very utilitarian looking granny bikes with baskets that are everywhere in Japan and ridden by everyone. I rode my mamchari through hot and humid summers to a school without air conditioning, in cold winters against the chiling wind back to an apartment with no heat, I grocery shopped with bags hanging from the handle bars (once in a typhoon), I somehow once carried home a book case on it from the DIY store, and I rode on the back rack cushioned with towels on romantic rides holding on tight while he drove under the summer moon and along to the music of the chirping frogs.

My mamachari was my transportation, even just to get to the train for additional transportation. I loved it; I didn't love it, both, but quickly it became what I knew, at least as far as my life in Japan was concerned, where many things I came to know as familiar were different from "home" - squat toilets, bullet trains, coffee creamer called Creap, drinks called Pocari Sweat, rice cookers that are smarter than some people I know and hanging clothes to dry for lack of a dryer.

Moving back to the States, I got right back into some old ways and had a car within about 24 hours, even if I cringe at the thought of wearing shoes in the house to this very day and still eat ramen with chopsticks. I was sure that my mamachari days would remain a bittersweet memory of my days in Japan.

Then a decade later, I quit smoking and started walking but found I couldn't run without expensive shoes due to ankle issues, and the price of gas went up well over $4.00, and suddenly riding a bike seemed like an excellent alternative to running while also saving money I don't have to spend at the pump. I'd already mysteriously started boycotting my dryer and more mysteriously stuck with it (and still now) citing as a reason to myself that I'd done it for 3 years in Japan, so getting back on the bike seemed a good idea.

A friend from work loaned me a bike, a mountain bike, and I was in shock (expressed in a haiku that ends with a bottle of wine) at how difficult it was to ride and how damn uncomfortable, too! Each time I rode a little, I found myself daydreaming about comfortable bikes with baskets in the form of granny bikes, mamacharis, and before I could name The Carpenters as the other favorite musical artist next to The Beatles in all of Japan, I realized that I *had* to have a mamachari immediately.

After a few weeks, I convinced Tom to agree with me, and on Sunday I went to the Target and bought something I never thought I'd own outside of Japan, this wonderful, perfect, comfortable and exactly as I've been dreaming about mamachari (this one).

Riding it for the first time, every bad karaoke version of Yesterday Once More by The Carpenters ran through my mind (I was witness to many versions, none exactly good), and I just hummed aloud and cruised along agreeing that yes, it is, indeed, yesterday once more. I've already bought a cool quick-release basket, and I've come full circle: boycotting the dryer, riding a mamachari, other small oddities. However, if you see me squatting over my toilet, the kind with, you know, a seat, please intervene, thx.

Weekly Winners Sunday 7/20/08

2008-07-20T00:01:00.000-07:00

Weekly Winners, hosted by Lotus.

Click pics for better looking larger images or take a peek at the entire album and/or watch as a slideshow at this link.

Mousing over pictures shows descriptions.
Clicking on a picture will open it full-sized in a new window/new tab.

Russian Skillet Stroganoff - Definitely a healthier version of the real thing, and this is a good start but might need some more seasoning.

Coffee Jello - Easy, yummy, delicious, classy and just plain cool.

That last herb at the top on the far right? Really, I'm dying to know if anyone knows whether Lemon Balm sounds correct. It smells and tastes lemony. If you are in the know and can tell me what it is, I will love you with a link right here. :)

[update: OK, Suzanne Says... is saying definitely Lemon Balm, and ditto from Jientje and Kim - and Mishi, and Shannon, too, thanks!]

Safety First

2008-07-19T18:32:00.001-07:00

Dear Punk Ass Pre-Teen Boys Hanging Out by the Grocery Store,

Thank you for reminding me how dorky I look in my crazy/bulky/brain protecting bike helmet. I agree. All my life I never wore one, and I thought it was mostly ridiculous that I felt like I had to have (for kids it's become law, wow, but we've also removed all the cool playground equipment from many of our parks, so it's no surprise), yet I gave in and bought one to go along with my hopeful hobby of using my car less and riding the bike I'm borrowing more.

Years ago when you were still pooping yourselves and eating jars of pureed peas while your mama made airplane sounds, some of my Japanese students then about your current age dubbed me "Safety Girl" for reasons unknown (I didn't wear a helmet with the granny bike and didn't feel I was supposed to do so, so it wasn't that, but the name has fit, so I wear it), so I had to laugh quietly when I overheard you laughing at me, mocking me even, saying "Safety First" as I rolled by and then giggling like a bunch of girls.

You were right, though.

I am too chicken to ride in the points-for-"progressiveness"-but-they-are-way-too-suicidal bike lanes on the sides of the roads so plentiful here in the Portland Metro Area (I think bicycles vs. pedestrians are a better match than cars vs. bicycles, but what does common sense have to do with the price of tea and pureed peas and airplane sounds in China), so if I am going to insist on riding primarily on the sidewalk as I do, then I'm going to be the opposite of my moniker and ditch the helmet (gasp!) unless I'm sure I'll be riding in the ~~death~~ bike lanes (where the oblivious drivers of large vehicles veer), which will be not ever.

I'm old enough in Oregon to decide that; you are not. So if I see your punk asses on bikes, you'll have to wear helmets, and I'll laugh at you and mock you because I'm totally mature like that.

Signed Disgruntled Most Times "Safety Girly"

Haiku Friday 7/18/08

2008-07-18T00:01:00.000-07:00

俳句の金曜日

Now 10 years ago
almost to the exact date,
a brand new chapter.

Packed my memories
in the big ass duffel bag.
Hugg'd tearful goodbyes.

The sweet orange kitty
who'd adopted me came, too.
He more scared than I.

I was so cocky.
College grad, lived in Japan,
the world by the balls.

I'd take on the world:
marriage, good job, a baby,
live the dream, I thought.

I did not know then
just how badly I would fail
all across the board.

Each loss cut so deep,
into where who I am lives,
at the core of me.

Bold dreams gave way to
a quiet resignation,
expecting little.

But failure's lessons
are painful yet powerful,
if we let them be.

Useless self-loathing
will not take me near as far
as true accounting.

Who I am today
is stronger than 10 years past
but much less cocksure.

I plan, but life's still
full of unpredictables-
that's the stuff of life.

Changes are afoot
and I delight in seeing
my life in 10 more.

Thursday Thirteen 7/17/08 - 26th Edition

2008-07-17T01:55:00.000-07:00

13 Extremely and Totally (Dude) Random Things About My Week

The light bulb burned out in the computer room, and I haven't bothered to replace it because I kind of like it dark.

I've experienced a wider than normal assortment of emotions. I'm either just still living the human experience, or I've crossed into something new. I'm cool with either.

One kitty woke me up around 3AM two nights in a row having tummy trouble after he'd been doing better for several days. One of those nights it was right on the damn bed, and both nights I hated that I was awake cleaning bedding/carpets at 3AM. I love my meows much, but I cleaned without a smile.

After a $211 vet bill for blood work related to said ongoing tummy trouble, there is no known cause (and thankfully not some of the fears), but a $6 box of Pepcid cut up as instructed by the vet seems to be working, and I wish I had held more firm on trying that before getting out my wallet. Again.

Total vet costs for the past 30 days is now over $1500 for 3 healthy cats with bad teeth plus the above little ongoing tummy trouble. Thankfully, it's probably nothing serious, but I spend less on my own medical care (knocking wood, furiously), and I have opposable thumbs and don't pee in a box (OK, well, one of them sometimes doesn't either. But still.).

I developed a callous on my toe bad enough that it tore through the cloth on one of my sandals making it feel really strange, but I'm sure I won't buy new sandals because I'm a tightwad (and the cat people have all my money anyway because the callous was on my foot instead of my heart).

I bought a cute new little foot file thingy for the shower, though. And a pair of those exfoliating shower glove thingies, too. Both under $5 total together but worth a bazillion. The joy of showering has returned, and all around me are delighted and rejoicing with songs and candy. Maybe just me.

I've talked this week to people (aside from icky, boring work calls) in Los Angeles, Chicago, Indianapolis, Tulsa, South Carolina (or North, the direction states confuse me), and I owe a call to Dallas. Florida should be on my list for this weekend, too.

Someone made arrangements to fly out to see me from one of those places, and I'm all giddy and excited. You'll hear more, and there will be pictures.

I may be making arrangements to fly out to see someone else from one of those places. Possibly. Maybe not. Hope so. The variables are contributing to #2.

At some moments I've considered not blogging and not doing Thursday Thirteen this week.

In another moment at 2:10AM on Thursday morning I decided to write anyway, so here I am.This is the kind of awesomely unparalleled talent you get when I randomly decide crap at 2:10 in the morning.

I have just barely started to scratch the surface of learning about doing layers in photo editing, and I was really thrilled that it only took me 6 months to learn how to do a black and white background with just a part or two in color like I did in this post. (Short answer: Basically, I changed the top layer to black and white, left the bottom layer in color and then used the eraser tool on the top layer, and I'm annoyed that nobody stated the process so simply, but now you know if you didn't already.)

Today is smoke-free day 396, and I'm still counting.

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Call Me Maurice

2008-07-15T08:14:00.000-07:00

HEADS - Joke

Today is smoke-free day 394, and with all the heaviness around here of late, this is something that cracked me up and that I mentioned back in May (but only with a link), and it totally fits and deserves some attention anyway if you missed it.

You know you wanted this song stuck in your head all day; you're welcome.

more graph humor and song chart memes

Steve Miller Band - The Joker

Quick Thanks

2008-07-14T03:10:00.000-07:00

Today is smoke-free day 393, and I'm feeling much better than I was when I was having a small meltdown on Saturday.

I'm mostly back to normal in terms of way fewer smoking thoughts, and the crazy breathing thing is almost gone, too. Additionally, some of the apparent hurdles that were stressing me out related to "the apartness" are simply no longer there (nutshell version: we were going to have to react more quickly than prepared to some housing issues; now we have more time to be more prepared, and you know that's way more my speed - ~~anal~~ cautious, careful, prudent), so that helps me to breathe more easily, too.

Many thanks for all of the kind thoughts.

Then, just for fun and because I've been toying with my pictures and s-l-o-w-l-y learning some new tricks, you get a picture of Daddy's Girl:

Weekly Winners Sunday 7/13/08

2008-07-13T00:01:00.000-07:00

Weekly Winners, hosted by Lotus.

Click pics for better looking larger images or take a peek at the entire album and/or watch as a slideshow at this link.

Mousing over pictures shows descriptions.
Clicking on a picture will open it in a new window/new tab.

Sesame Chicken - This is a really delicious and fabulous dish, and it really is healthier than ordering out.

Italian Sausage Chicken - I used Al Fresco Sweet Italian Style Sausage, and it is way leaner but tastes as good as the real deal. A little cooking spray in the pan to sautee the onions and peppers and whole wheat buns plus a little reduced fat Italian blend of cheese on top - perfection! On the side, I sliced up some zucchini, sprayed the pan with cooking spray, sprinkled some Italian seasoning and pepper and baked at 350 for about 40 minutes, turning once.

The bike thing - I'm borrowing a bike from a friend and riding to save gas and for general health, but it is tough! Also, I only thought I'd ditched the fanny pack (yes, I know what that means in some places outside of the US...), but it really is too convenient sometimes.

Rare Saturday Post - Breathing / Believing

2008-07-12T12:33:00.000-07:00

Today is smoke-free day 391, and it's been a harder earned week, but I'm hanging tough, one day at a time.

I Can't Breathe.
Since last weekend I've been experiencing a bit of a rough patch with thoughts about smoking creeping in and annoying me more frequently and with a stronger sense of urgency, and I'll be glad when I get back to the new normal where that's not the case. It actually got bad enough that I am experiencing that odd suffocating feeling like an interrupted yawn kind of thing that I'd experienced on past quits and this time only when I was mostly off of Chantix (and not related to Chantix) where the best I can theorize, my deep breaths to combat the urges become so intense that I set up a panic situation and can't catch my breath. This had largely gone away, and I'm not thrilled to see it back. Thankfully, so far, the heart flutteries have not returned with it, so I'm more convinced that those were probably psychological as well.

(If you are just finding my blog and at the start of your journey with quitting smoking, pleasedo not be discouraged, and please know that most other days are not at all as tough as these have been. There are ups and downs, and my days have been mostly up.)

I Believe That You Believe.
Some of my issues above are probably related to some stressful recent hurdles related to "the apartness," and this would be an excellent time for prayer. Problem is, without getting too deeply into it on here or inviting conversations I'm not in the mood to have, I no longer believe, so I no longer actually pray (and when I did, it was my own brand of prayer anyway). Oddly enough, though, I do believe that you believe and that maybe your prayers have power. Or maybe they don't. But prayers and/or good thoughts certainly can't hurt (right?), and it just feels like some kind of Divine Intervention is needed for things to fall neatly into place because I'm kind of in conundrum and missing Tom now more than ever. Do with that or don't do with it as you wish (just please no preaching to me because my head and heart already kind of hurt, and that's not really the kind of help that would, um, help right now).

Haiku (Bike-ku) Friday 7/11/08

2008-07-11T00:01:00.000-07:00

俳句の金曜日

You never forget
how to ride a bike, they say,
and it's partly true.

The part they leave off
is that it is not the same
as it was back when.

My first bike was red
with training wheels, then without,
hills took no effort.

Bike riding with friends
soon gave way to boys and cars,
much more fun and cool.

Bike rides in college
were so few and far between,
still, I could do it.

Then my granny bike
for all three years in Japan,
didn't ~~"need"~~ have a car.

Cruising past rice fields,
groc'ries hang from handlebars,
less fun in typhoon.

Other than the wind,
I don't recall much effort,
just riding along.

Return to the States
and bikeless for 10 whole years...
...until just this week.

Oh my holy hell!
Even the slightest inclines
take so much effort!

Clearly there are groups
of muscles once used back when
that since haven't been.

I'll keep practicing
because the cost of gas sucks;
and I'll make it, but...

...if one more person
acts like you just get back on
like it ain't no thang...

...I will spit at them
and I will not share with them
a glass of this wine:

Thursday Thirteen 7/10/08 - 25th Edition

2008-07-10T00:01:00.000-07:00

Thirteen Things About My Learnin'

Every report card from kindergarten forward said I was too chatty with my neighbors. The shock!

When I quit killing brain cells instead of going to class, I found out mid-way through high school that I enjoyed learning and that I really could "live up to my potential." Thankfully it wasn't too late.

I took a trigonometry/pre-calculus class in high school and really loved it and even did well, but it was forgotten enough that I struggled with just the algebra on the GRE less than 10 years later.

High school senior year, my best friend and I were annoyed with the study hall that was not kept quiet enough, so we ditched it daily and went to McD's to eat, smoke (back in those days with the flimsy foil ashtrays) and drink coffee while doing said trig/pre-calc homework.

When I got accepted to my dream college, my mom and I danced and cried in the kitchen. One of my favorite memories. I miss her so much, and I still tear up thinking about that day.

I college got a D in a Logic class taught by one of my worst professors. I was *devastated* by that D. I'm logical, but not in an "if A, then B; not A so maybe not B but could be" all written out like a formula kind of way when it gets all complex (and kind of useless).

The other worst professor taught a Weather and Climate Systems class where we had to design a "green" home, including getting photos of land, drawing it out and other details that seemed far beyond the scope of what we were learning. This assignment was the only one I cheated on. I let a carpenter friend design it, and he still got me a C on the assignment.

Not much of a "real" science kind of gal, I loved that History of Biology counted as a science class (and it was a great class).

I also took no math classes in college. Nope. Not one. This explains my use of Maggie Math.

Despite the D in Logic and some other little bumps, I did graduate college with honors, so I thought for sure I knew it all for awhile until I found out I didn't.

A few years after college, I took the GRE while in Japan because I thought I wanted to go to grad school when I returned to the States, so I had to re-learn algebra (see above), and it was odd what I remembered (using FOIL to solve quadratic equations) and what I didn't (most else).

I was accepted to a grad school program in gorgeous Monterey, CA, even after doing the phone interview in Japanese, but I wouldn't have been able to afford to live there, and I was going to pick another major that would have resulted in big loans but small paychecks, so thankfully I did not go there and then and for that.

My degree is in English, Asian Studies and Japanese (minor). Not that you care. Neither have my employers. Smarter for someone who has to work for a living (me) would have been a degree that results in a title of ___________ (doctor, welder, electrician, nurse, teacher, any title. at all.), but it sounded all cool at the time. On the plus side, knowing the capital of Mongolia off the top of my head did help in a game of trivia once, plus I know random bits of Chinese history and can order a beer in Japanese.

Today is smoke-free day 389, and I'm still counting.

Get the Thursday Thirteen code here!

Over the Rainbow, Somewhere

2008-07-08T00:01:00.000-07:00

HEADS - Anything starting with the letter O

This week I bring you a short and sweet post with a classic song done up punk that always puts me in a good mood because how could it not? Get where you can turn it up a little and enjoy! The volume slider works if you need to turn it up or down.

(If you are at work or something and can't listen now, I get that, but promise yourself you'll enjoy it later because you deserve to smile today.)

Many thanks to my sweetheart who years ago introduced me to MxPx (though I didn't know that they were a Christian rock band from my neck of the woods until just now!).

Oh, and the "O" is of course for Over, as in Somewhere Over the Rainbow

Somewere Over The Rainbow (punk cover) - MxPx

Today is smoke-free day 387, and I'm still counting.

Fair Enough

2008-07-07T00:39:00.000-07:00

Today is smoke-free day 386. Not sure why smoking crossed my mind so many times this past weekend, but it did. I never felt like I was on the verge of tossing away all the work I've put into staying quit this long or anything drastic like all that, but I did notice that more than once a cigarette sounded really, really, really good.

So, I did what I used to do back in the beginning, back when Chantix was helping me through but when I still had to make a very conscious effort to cooperate fully:

I drank water.

I took a deep breath.

I took it a day at a time.

I took a walk and felt good about being healthier.

I didn't smoke.

It worked.

Most likely this was all wrapped up in the long weekend thing when I start feeling like it's "me time" and that I can have whatever I want. Whatever the reason, I do know that these spikes are normal for me every once in awhile, so rarely anymore, really, and that things return back to normal if I don't smoke, and I've come to really love what's become the new "normal" because it doesn't usually involve feeling tuggings related to smoking.

I'm still on track. I smoked for 20+ years, and I'm still OK with the idea that just over a year quit I might still sometimes have these moments. I'm technically a non-smoker, but I will probably be a "non-smoker who used to smoke" for a long time, if not forever. None of that means I have to smoke. It was my choice to start and continue smoking, and it was my choice to quit smoking and to remain quit. Each day I make the choice again, and the choice itself is easy even when it's a little harder to accomplish than other days. I get to consider both sides and pick what I want. That's fair enough, I think.

Weekly Winners Sunday 7/6/08

2008-07-06T00:01:00.000-07:00

Weekly Winners, hosted by Lotus.

Click pics for better looking larger images or take a peek at the entire album and/or watch as a slideshow at this link.

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Soba? See this link for explanation. Buy at your local Asian grocery if not at your regular supermarket - boil noodles, pour the stock (hot or cold), sprinkle seaweed, enjoy!
Ochazuke? See this link for an explanation. It's yummy! Buy instant at your local Asian grocery - sprinkle over rice and add boiling water, done!
Noren? See this link for an explanation. From my kitchen in Japan to my kitchen in the States.

Haiku Friday 7/4/08

2008-07-04T00:01:00.000-07:00

俳句の金曜日

The Fourth of July,
our familiar traditions,
mem'ries of childhood.

Dressed up for the day
some red, some white and some blue,
accessories, too.

Mid-morning parade,
candy thrown from passing floats,
flags waving proudly.

Picnic or party,
burgers, dogs and apple pie,
family, food, fun.

Carnival at dusk
one last spin or twirl or slide
'till the main event.

'Cuz I mean really,
all that other stuff was just
the opening act.

The 4th means fireworks:
magic wonder in the sky,
each year like the first.

Thursday Thirteen 7/3/08 24th Edition

2008-07-03T00:01:00.000-07:00

13 Red, White and Blue Patriotic Themed Recipes
for the 4th of July
(though I bet they taste great on any day)

Breakfast:

1. Pancakes or crepes with strawberries, blueberries and whipped cream
(or the same fruit on top of basic cupcakes)
2. Red, (Egg) White and Blue Omelette

Main Dish:

3. Red, White and Blue Burgers

Sides & Salads:
4.Red, White and Blue Bruschetta

5. Red, White and Blue Potato Salad
6. Red, White and Blue Slaw Salad

Desserts:
7.Red, White and Blue Jello Flag
8.Red, White and Blue Trifle
9. Red, White and Blue Parfait
10. Patriotic Twinkies
11. Red White and Blue Popsicles

Alcohol:
12. Red White and Blue Jello Shots
13. 4th of July Margaritas

Bonus: The other recipes that sounded excellent to me are in my 4th of July Red White and Blue Cookbook, and there are more great ideas here and here (though they may contain some of the same ones).

Today is smoke-free day 382, and I'm still counting.

Get the Thursday Thirteen code here!

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Lost and Found and Powered Down

2008-07-02T01:10:00.000-07:00

The fabulous Huckdoll issued a challenge to step away from the computer, turn off the TV and stop with the cell phone for one hour on July 1st from 9:00PM to 10:00PM and to take that time to connect with the people in your house or just with yourself if there weren't any of those.

Turns out that as has been happening far too often of late during "the apartness," Tom and I had texted back and forth and talked a little throughout the day, but we hadn't really gotten to just sit and talk and hang out together, something that we consider the lifeblood of our relationship and somehting that we both cherish.

Almost on cue without knowing anything about any of this, right about 8:50PM Tom called me while I was mid-shut down, and I turned completely off both computers. Not sleep or hibernate or some other too quick to turn it back on state, but off. OFF. It was almsot eery not to hear the slight buzz that seems so constant as a backdrop to my life when I'm at home.

We had a really nice talk for about 40 minutes, and we both agreed that thousands of miles between us is no excuse to get flabby on our communication and connecting, and is in fact all the more reason we should be keeping it strong, so we will be making a conscious and deliberate effort to do that. Oddly enough, while being absorbed in reading blogs or Plurking (you haven't heard of that? really? go there now. please. then come back.) or doing whatever the hell it is when I stare at the screen for awhile does tend to suck time away from me, it can also make it easier than ever to stay in touch with my sweetheart. We have a little online Scrabble ~~ass kicking, yep, my love, I know you are reading~~ session planned for tonight, and how cool is that?

After we hung up, the computers stayed off another hour and a half or so while I dug through boxes looking for a particular poem Tom wrote me long ago because I've been meaning to find it but have been too busy mindlessly sitting in front of the computer. While looking, I got to sit on the floor and dig through a mix of old memories - my baby book, my mother's handwriting on an envelope she sent me in college, pages from journals I'd forgotten I'd written while she was dying, various bits of evidence of old friendships I'd somehow forgotten to miss, random pictures of me in Japan given with care in by those who took them, the blanket my mom cross-stitched for me before I was born and the doll I've had since birth, poems I wrote so many years ago, my report card from first grade and so very much more.

So at the end of a couple of hours being powered down, Tom and I found a reminder to connect more often because we enjoy each other's company in whatever form it has to take right now, and I found a connection to some major pieces that have shaped who I am. Sadly, I still haven't found that poem. Yet. I guess a couple of hours offline wasn't quite enough, but the next time I find myself going mindless at the screen but still wandering around the Internets just because it's there, I'll power down again to go look some more.

Can't Take Me Anywhere

2008-07-01T00:01:00.000-07:00

Heads or Tails this week:
TAILS - Share a Summertime memory

Stacy was a couple of years younger than me, which was a huge age gap back when I was about 11, but she lived just down the street from me in our small suburb of big Chicago, and somehow we became friends. Perhaps our friendship started one of the million times I roller skated on the sidewalk past her house in my freaky 80's sneaker-look roller skates (they looked just like these, same exact colors even, oh my). I was convinced enough that I was going to be in the Roller Skate Olympics, or something, that I convinced her of the same.

We weren't best friends, but we were friends enough that I recall a sleepover watching Friday Night Videos back when music videos were new and when most people didn't have cable or MTV yet (and when they did, MTV actually showed, um, music videos back in those olden times). Her family invited me on an outing to the beach once. Once. Stacy's parents were kind of young and were pretty laid back and cool, and it was good times, but it would be the last time they invited me anywhere.

We went to some beach in Indiana (not "the Dunes," but that is another beach of my youth) that had a single water slide that landed right in the lake. It was huge and tall and way beyond cool. The ramp up to the top was all wooden, and the railings were also made of wood and designed kind of like a wooden fence with posts and a couple of pieces of wood horizontally in between them. Kind of like this, if a visual helps, but picture them diagonally headed up:

|------------|------------|
|------------|------------|

(Did that help? Pretty high-tech, I know.)

At the very, very top was the platform from which you get on the slide, and just before that platform was the last part of the long ramp up to the top.

It was right there, at that very last step from ramp to platform, all the way at the very top that it happened, the accident that was truly just waiting to happen because what genius mind would think that a wet wooden ramp and a fence with plenty of space underneath to slip through to ~~death~~ the ground very many feet below was a good idea? Surely it's not the same mind that's been removing my favorite playground equipment from parks in recent years to make them ~~boring~~ so safe.

As I lost my footing and started to slip, Stacy reacted by trying to grab onto me, but by the time I'd slipped enough that I was literally hanging onto the wet walkway with my fingers with my scrawny and useless little arms fully extended, feeling like I was in some action movie dream because surely this could not be happening, I told her to let go because I knew that the inevitable was about to happen, and that she'd just be going down with me.

Everything went... not really black or white or anything, but just everything went... away. For awhile, I guess.

When I came to, I was laying on some rocks, and worried people were rushing toward me, some yelling orders to others and trying to sort out who I belonged to because surely I was badly injured. The looks on the faces of Stacy's parents were of sheer terror turned relief as I stood up, dusted myself off, noted some scratches on my arms and legs from the brushy bush that probably did nothing to break my fall but had left its mark anyway, and not one person (me included) could believe that I'd not only survived but hadn't broken something like my neck, ass or general whole body.

I still remember being really stiff and sore for a few days, but within a week, I was back to wearing those ridiculous looking sneaker roller skates, and cruising past Stacy's house. Her parents would kind of half smile and do a little wave, but they never, ever invited me to go anywhere ever again.

Today is smoke-free day 380, and I'm still counting.

As Far Away as Possible

2008-06-30T08:04:00.000-07:00

We won't talk about exactly *why* I was Googling to figure out where the abso-[expletive deleted]-lute furthest place away from here is (on our globe, I mean; dealing with aliens on theirs would stress me out, even with the benefit of being further away), but I will share what I've learned thanks to this neat-o tool - if the earth were a sandwich (I love maps and map toys):

Most places directly opposite from where you are will dump you in the middle of some ocean instead of on some piece of land with a nice neat name.
The furthest place away from any of us in the 48 contiguous United States and Canada is somewhere in the Indian Ocean (which, by the way, while we are on the subject of being far away from here, wouldn't be terrible on a nice roomy yacht that's very well stocked with great wine and gin and good friends and lots of grapes and cheese and a little omelet station manned by a guy in a chef's hat. Oh, and chocolate. Strawberries, too. Fondue style, maybe. And stern enforcement of a no asshats allowed policy as posted.).
The opposite of Hawaii is roughly Botswana, while the opposite of Alaska is either in or just super close to Antarctica (how's that for a choice? - be sure to pack that scarf your auntie knitted for you in either case).
Spain and New Zealand are opposites, as are Singapore and Equador, and Taiwain and Paraguay.
Sometimes it's funny to Google feelings and frustrations because in cases like this, you can wind up daydreaming about being on a yacht or at least knowing more specifically where mean when you are trying to get as far away as possible (also helpful in case someone has the audacity to challenge you).
Challenging me today really wouldn't be that hot of an idea because I can be a little crunchy and snippy right out of the gate simply because I am in this place as opposed to the other.

Today is smoke-free day 379, and I'm still counting.

Weekly Winners Sunday 6/29/08

2008-06-29T00:01:00.000-07:00

Weekly Winners, hosted by Lotus.

Click pics for better looking larger images or take a peek at the entire album and/or watch as a slideshow at this link.

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(click links to see recipes)

Mexican Tamale Pie - relatively healthy and low cal but packed with flavor

Lemony Black-Eyed Pea and Cilanto Salad - I've posted this previously, and it's still fabulous and perfect for a diet-friendly, no-cook hot summer night

Breakfast Burrito, Healthier Version - I've shared the perfect Kittencal's the Fluffiest Scrambled Eggs (Lower-Fat)past post, and this time I just added cilantro to those and also sliced up a Gardenburger Veggie Breakfast Sausage patty (truly, so good, and I believe in good sausage), and wrapped all in a whole wheat tortilla with a little salsa.

Lentil Dal - so healthy and so amazingly yummy and filling, too

McMenamins - McMenamins is a Northwest tradition with their own microbrew beers (Ruby Ale is my favorite, but their Terminator Stout is delish, too, when the mood is right) - as well as their own wines, and, I learned recently, even their own gin! They also have tons of super unique locations. One favorite is the old Kennedy School turned into a hotel with restaurant, second run movie theater (where you can sit on random second hand living room furniture sipping beer and having a slice of pizza), soaking pool and some smaller bars (like the Detention Bar and Honors Bar).