We Are Called Fudge

Friend or Felon

2008-11-17T23:54:00.002-05:00

I've been doing my best to get things transitioned over to this new apartment -- changed my address with my employer, my car insurance, my driver's license (for which the state of Ohio issues a postcard that I'm supposed to "keep with my license..." Seriously???), and of course, the post office.

In the two weeks that I've been here, I've received my own forwarded mail, as well as mail for no less than five other people (although there are two Karens, so I'm wondering if The Karen Who Used To Live Here got either married or divorced during her tenure here).

So, do I cross through the addresses on all of those envelopes and stick them back in a mailbox with "Not At This Address" written across them? Or do I just say tough shit to these people, who apparently did NOT file a change of address form with the post office? The latter is easier, of course, but isn't preventing delivery of mail to its correct addressee a federal offense or something?

If I Ignore It, Will It Go Away?

2008-11-16T22:05:00.000-05:00

Ugh... they are predicting snow showers for overnight and tomorrow morning. I know it's getting colder and it's got to happen sooner or later... and they're not talking about any accumulation whatsoever, so it probably won't be a big deal... But I'm just so not ready for snow before Thanksgiving!

What I Learned Today From Eddie Izzard

2008-11-15T23:01:00.002-05:00

It's been a gray and rainy Saturday, the sort of day where you want to just curl up on the couch and watch DVD's and eat soup. Well, OK, I didn't have much in the house in the soup department, but DVD's I have aplenty, so I picked out a fave Eddie Izzard disc and settled in for an hour or two of hearty giggling.

He was doing one of my favorite bits about the Heimlich Maneuver (hoocha-hoocha-hoocha... and lobster), with Gunter waking Hilda in the middle of the night, and I decided to find out what Heimlich's real first name was via the internet. Perhaps it wasn't such a crazy idea -- after all, anybody who has seen Eddie's "Stripped" show knows that he loves him da Wikipedia!

But given Eddie's encyclopedic brain and penchant for small and random details, you can imagine my surprise to find out that Dr. Heimlich is not named Gunter, his name is Henry -- and he was born in Delaware! Went to Cornell! His wife is not Hilda but Jane, and Jane Heimlich (nee Murray) was the daughter of dancing instructor and entrepreneur Arthur Murray! Last but not least (and we're almost adding insult to injury at this point), Wikipedia reports that of all things, Dr. Heimlich is a cousin to Anson Williams, who was best known for playing Potsie Webber on "Happy Days!" Good Lord, you don't get much more white-bread American that THAT!!!

The Wiki article goes on to describe some relatively disturbing things about Dr. Heimlich, such as questions about sharing credit with other physicians who helped his research on the maneuver (he didn't), and taking part in mass trials of infecting people in Africa with malaria as a way to "cure" them of HIV and AIDS (he did). Apparently his own son has a website that documents and discusses what the younger Heimlich describes as "50 years of medical fraud." Yeah, remind me not to spend Thanksgiving around THAT table!

Eddie's bit was recorded back in 1998, so I'll cut him some slack for it being the pre-Wiki era. Besides, his version is clearly way funnier than real life. And that's just what you want on a gray, rainy Saturday.

Falling Behind

2008-11-14T11:45:00.002-05:00

Whoops... I have not kept up with Nablopomo so well this week!

I'm not exactly sure what happened. I had a really crappy nagging headache the first few days of the week -- you know the one, not bad enough to make you nauseous and call off of work, but still enough to make you feel like you're slogging through unhardened concrete all day. On Wednesday, it took me well over two hours to write a newsletter article that I really should have been able to slam out in under 30 minutes, and even then it wasn't my best work. And Thursday... Thursdays are hard. My work schedule on Thursdays is to be there by 9AM, and to leave hopefully by 8PM... although in reality, I'm often there till about 8:30 or 8:45. I'm getting used to it, and the tradeoff is that I only work a half day on Fridays, but... as you can imagine, I'm pretty brain dead by the time I get home, and blogging just doesn't get too high on my priority list.

So, those are my excuses. But I'm back now, the headache has gone away, and I have located all of the necessary Thanksgiving recipes, including Mom's pumpkin pie, so I'm good to go.

Onward, and upward.

Where Did I Put That?

2008-11-11T23:12:00.003-05:00

November being Nablopomo (thanks for the name, Melissa!) is a wee bit serendipitous for me this year, as I moved into this new apartment on November 1st and therefore can get away with posting about my first month living here. Things are really beginning to come together, and I am loving the new digs. Yesterday I put the first nails in a wall, in order to hang an antique mirror in my front hallway, and I also got some of my books shelved. (Shelving books is not a one-day thing for me. Several of my friends who helped with the move bitched about my copious amounts of reading materials. I know PA can relate.)

The unserendipitous part is that Thanksgiving is two weeks away (!!!!??!?!!?). I will be spending it this year with my Danish brother and sister-in-law, who have only celebrated this American holiday when my father and stepmother would cross the pond to be with them. As such, they don't have a whole lot of traditions -- or recipes -- of their own. My dad and other brother will be there as well, and I'm thrilled at the opportunity to get to cook and play around in the kitchen, but cookbooks do fall into the "books" category.

Did I mention the copious amounts of reading material...

Is This How the Zombies Get In?

2008-11-10T23:54:00.002-05:00

This really bizarre thing has been happening to my computer lately. The little clock, down in the lower right corner, the one that every computer everywhere has? Well, it seems to... get a little ahead of itself. For example, right now, it's 11:54pm, according to my watch, my cell phone, my DVR, and the automated time stamp on this blog post. The little clock on the computer says that it's 12:10am, approximately 16 minutes fast. An hour or so after I turned the computer on, it was about 4 minutes fast. An hour ago, it was about 7 minutes fast. And tomorrow morning, when I turn the computer back on again? It will be correct once again. It's sort of like my own personal little time warp, or like the drummer to my life is rushing the beat just ever so slightly.

That is truly jacked up, yo.

Fair Warning

2008-11-09T18:46:00.002-05:00

It's starting again.

That tiny little tickle that you barely even notice for God knows how long... until it becomes more of an itch, and by that time you know it's too late, it's going to become something gnawing and raw, there's just no stopping it.

Maybe it happened sometime this week, with all the election revelry. Maybe, but I don't think so. I think it's been going on longer than that.

The travel bug is biting me again. That's right, my wide-load rear end wants to sit on a plane for 8 hours at a clip and go somewhere new and exciting again. Funny, cuz it's been exactly one year since PA and I departed for Italy. My tolerance for lack of travel appears to be getting shorter.

Not that I'm in any position to do anything about this, you understand. I think realistically, it's going to be at least another six months before I can even begin to make any plans. Although, it is possible that I'll have enough time off saved up to perhaps go on an Operation Smile mission. Very different feel than the other trips I've taken, of course, but it would certainly tide me over.

And I know that, at least right now, I'd probably be looking at a trip on my own as well. I've done that before, and it's not necessarily a bad thing, but... I also know that my Sisters of the Dole would probably want to come with me, and I would feel bad for making them feel bad if they couldn't.

But I'm telling you now. The bug, she has bit.

The Strange and Random File

2008-11-08T23:51:00.002-05:00

So, with the new digs comes learning a new neighborhood -- where to buy gas, where to order Chinese, where to go grocery shopping. That last one is going to be a bit of a transition, because the closest supermarket to my old place was, in a word, AWESOME. Huge. Took Zes there at least twice during her long weekend visit. You can buy furniture there. You can buy sushi there. You can buy jewelry there. Love.

But, since it's one of only two stores like that in the city, I have to learn to satisfy my needs with a smaller store. The other big chain in town is the store closest to me, but I checked them out last weekend (I needed toothpaste), and was not impressed. Today's excursion fared better, and I think this will probably become my regular store.

Unless I see this one woman again the next time I go. This lady had the shopping cart with the race car on the front, and two school-age kids wedged together into the car part. There was also a toddler in the cart seat, who looked like she was just barely big enough to sit up there by herself. The strange and random part comes in, though, as I watched this woman put TWELVE cans of Pledge into her empty shopping cart. First of all, what in the hell needs to be that clean? And second, how does one come to have priorities that say you've got to by mass quantities of any cleaning product before, ya know... FOOD???

Ugh

2008-11-07T16:50:00.001-05:00

I am just SO tired today... I have no plans for this weekend, and believe you me, I won't be making any! TGIF = nap time!

Collect 'Em All, Suitable For Framing

2008-11-06T07:22:00.001-05:00

OK, this?

http://obama2008.s3.amazonaws.com/headlines.html

Is pretty frakkin' cool...

It appears that it's alphabetical by state, until you get down to the end, there, and then you're on your own, because I have no idea what sort of order they're in. Click on any individual pic and you'll get a closeup of it.

Happy Days...

2008-11-05T22:54:00.002-05:00

No idea of this is coincidence or not... but yesterday, Obama gets elected (Yes, we can!), and today I put 5 gallons of gas in my car for $10. That's right, sports fans, $1.99 a gallon. I can't even remember the last time I saw that.

(Actually, I saw it for $1.95 a gallon, but I would've needed to rely on the reflexes and reaction time of the driver behind me being lightning-sharp for me to make the turn without getting plowed into... I decided not to hedge my bets.)

You CanNOT Be Serious!

2008-11-04T20:18:00.002-05:00

Of course, I am glued to all the election results, I've got NBC on the tube, and am continually refreshing CNN on the computer, and speaking aloud quizzically to no one in particular when what I'm seeing and hearing don't seem to jibe. (Hey, it's one of the benefits of living alone, too bad if you don't get to!)

This is a momentous day no matter what happens, but ya know... sometimes you just gotta love the serendipitous nature of television. Mere moments after Brian Williams and Tom Brokaw were discussing the huge numbers of exit polls showing that we as a nation are more concerned about the economy than any other issue facing us today... comes an ad for Wal-Mart. A CHRISTMAS ad, full of snow and jingle bells and holiday deals.

So, the economy is tops on our minds. But screw it, let's go shopping.

24 Hours Left!

2008-11-03T22:29:00.002-05:00

Thank the Lord, tomorrow is Election Day... Memories of the 2004 election weigh heavily here in Ohio, and they've never done early voting here before, so people are anxious and the ads are just absolutely pervasive. I'll be SO happy when all that crap goes away!

Since I knew I would be moving 3 days before the election, I went ahead and voted early under my old address to avoid any bureaucratic asshattery, and thought that would help me to ignore all the crap floating around the airwaves for the last few weeks. Yeah, not so much.

I think what drives me bonkers the most, on both sides, is all these ads that keep harping on points that, if you've paid attention at all, you already know are false. A relatively quick perusal on factcheck.org will clarify that the Iraqi budget surplus is not $70B; that the "average American" isn't really going to save $2500 with Obama's health plan; that we don't import $700B in oil every year from "countries that don't like us very much;" and don't even get me started on the "sharing the wealth" crap.

But tomorrow, it will all be over. Finally. Of course, if you haven't done so already, I encourage you to get out there and vote. Those of you who know me also know who I'd prefer you to vote FOR, but... the important part is that you exercise your right to have your voice heard.

Movin' and Groovin'

2008-11-02T22:48:00.002-05:00

Well, the house-move is now complete, and even got done in a reasonable amount of time... although, no thanks to the guy at the U-Haul place on that score.

OK, maybe it wasn't entirely his fault. The U-Haul rentals are actually just one counter within this mom 'n' pop convenience store, so there were other customers present, and this particular guy was, in fact, there before me.

What I DO blame the convenience store management for is putting the U-Haul counter right next to the porn magazine rack. Yeah, I had to wait to rent my truck because the previous customer was having a tough time making his weekend titty selection. His trucker cap and multiple tattoos apparently belied a very discerning porn palate, as he spent 10 solid minutes having the convenience store guy show him half the magazines there.

"So, what do you have in, say, a slutty cheerleader?"

"Well, this just came in yesterday, I understand it's very nice."

Dude, pick the first cover picture that gives you a boner and move on. I've got people waiting, eh?

A Little Bit of Recommitment

2008-11-01T05:28:00.002-05:00

In my last post, I think part of what I was feeling was that I didn't use this blog enough, let alone any of the other "connect with people" sites that are out there. My thanks to those who replied through comments and e-mails, for you helped me to remember that there really is a big world out there, and perhaps more folks are paying attention than I think. The TurtleHerder also just reminded me that along with NaNoWriMo, November is also Post To The Blog Every Day month. (I'm pretty sure there's a more official name for it, but damned if I can remember what the hell it is.)

TH thanked me in her post for planting the seed in her mind so that she will be more attentive to her blog this month, and I'm gonna lob that shout-out right back to her -- thanks for reminding ME! I too am going to try to reconnect once a day this month, so we shall be sisters-in-arms.

For the moment, though, I have just under two hours to get myself up and dressed, get the computer and the TV disconnected and organized, do some last minute packing, and go pick up the 17' U-Haul truck. There have been some SNAFU's with that already, so I'm really anxious to get through this day as quickly and painlessly as possible. More details in tomorrow's post -- the cable people are supposed to come to the new apartment between 4-7pm (by which time all should be over except the screaming), so I shouldn't be out of reach for too terribly long.

Wish me luck!

What're We Doing Here, Really?

2008-10-08T09:50:00.003-05:00

OK, so maybe I'm just behind the times. Granted, it's been 5 months since my last post, so I suppose it's not surprising that the Blogger dashboard page looks way different... they'd been talking about making some changes, and I guess they have. But in feeling that five month time gap, I find myself wondering just what, exactly, am I trying to do here.

I went to church a few weeks ago with my cousin's family (stay with me, here, it isn't a religious rant), and the pastor's sermon was discussing Facebook. The point ultimately was about what God's Facebook page would look like, feeling connected to him, blah blah blah Presbyterians. But she began by asking first how many in the congregation knew what Facebook is, then how many of us actually have a Facebook page. As you might expect, no one over the age of 18 raised their hand for the second question. (Although, to be fair, it was a skewed audience -- the median age in the room was probably somewhere in the mid-60's.)

Do I need a Facebook page? I find myself struggling for things to say here, feel almost guilty about these large time lapses between posts, like I'm somehow not keeping up with my own life. Do I need another site on which to offer up nothing new under the sun? I have friends who Twitter.... maybe I'm missing something about the basic premise of it, but I totally don't get why the world needs Twitter. Am I to presume that I lead an interesting enough life that people will "follow" me around all day, just waiting to hear what I had for breakfast or what the license plate of the car in front of me in 5pm traffic was?

I have heard the arguments for Facebook or MySpace of, "it's so great, I've reconnected with so many old friends..." Sure, there are people who have crossed the path of my existence who I would like to find again. But I remain unconvinced. I've Google-bated myself. There's stuff out there. You Google my first and last name, you will find this blog, links for Classmates.com and Reunion.com (don't remember signing up for that second one, but it doesn't really matter, as both are inactive cuz I'm not giving them my money). You'll find a link to Zes's blog where she's got me listed, and some old stuff from the church I used to be active with in Austin. You'll find the web page of my employer, with my work phone number right there for anyone to see. And you'll find some movie links to the actress Grace Zabriskie. What're ya gonna do.

The point is, there's enough information there that, if you don't already know how to contact me, you can still find me. I don't have the largest of web presences, even among my circle of friends, but there's enough basic info there. Sure, goofy and quirky things happen in my day-to-day life, but by the time I find myself able to sit down and find the words to blog it, the moment has passed. I forget to bring my camera with me at times when I really should, so there's not a lot of spontaneous "me and Chill-Zee at the X-Factor rage!" sorts of snaps around. I work in an HIV clinic in a major midwestern hospital, so basic confidentiality (not to mention HIPPA) prevents me from posting much in the way of words or pictures on that subject.

Don't get me wrong, I'm very happy with who I am and my place in the world. I'm a good person, one who tries to make a difference in small ways with the people I know and the families I work with. I'm just not sure that it's all that interesting a life to anyone other than me. Do I need a place that's going to remind me of the mundaneness of my own existence? Is anybody out there REALLY trying to find me?

Eddie Is the New Jon

2008-05-13T22:27:00.003-05:00

Since the Snotties are all going to see him the day after tomorrow, I was suckered into promising that I would not reveal too much about seeing Eddie Izzard live and in person this evening. But I can't possibly say nothing at all, as it is contrary to my very nature, so here goes...

First and foremost, single-ticket sales can be a beautiful thing, and a big, BIG shoutout to LaCa for arranging that for me... my designated 18 square inches were all I could have desired without someone requiring a kidney for down payment. Added to this, the nimrods who had the two seats directly in front of me didn't show up (!!!), so my view was clear and unobstructed for two solid hours.

Not sure if it was the lighting, my imagination, or perhaps the safety tinting on my contact lenses, but I had no idea Eddie's eyes were quite that strikingly blue. Seriously.

He got heckled in French.

There was a line that he deemed to be a "four-person joke." I was one of the four people. NO doubts on this, probably even the strangers on either side of me would confirm it.

He has an iPhone, and doesn't leave it in his dressing room... which makes me wonder who he would actually take a call from while on stage.

A couple of things I might have expected, I saw none (or at least very little) of. If you know his stuff well, there were references that I believe had to be deliberate, but not obvious. Overall, the reactions I heard from others in the crowd as we filed out were very positive, and I myself laughed myself into a hacking cough regularly. Even took a couple hits on the pneumonia inhaler that I'm still carrying around, hoping that might help relieve some of the hacking. It did not.

Pondered hanging around at the back of the theater for a while to let the crowd thin out and maybe catch a glimpse or a 'graph... but the beefy bouncer boys appeared to be taking their jobs very seriously, so I decided against it. Did I miss out? Possibly. But I'll just have to live with that.

What the hell IS the Pope's real name, anyway?

Enjoyed the Columbus stuff he opened with, curious to see how it changes when he's playing in Chicago.

Brace yourself ladies, he is all boy in this one. Well, not ALL boy, he's still Eddie, but... Dude. Was. Smo. KING.

And this is all VERY tightly scripted.

So... yeah.

What Can You Say?

2007-12-05T15:35:00.000-05:00

Sometimes, there just are no words. I've been waiting for a few days now for the words to come to me, and they just aren't.

While still working through the grief of Larry's death in October and preparing to go to Arizona for his memorial, I received a voicemail message from my father on Saturday afternoon. He was calling to tell me that my stepmother had died. She was not old. She was not sick. I was not ready.

When Larry died, the words came to me immediately, and I posted them here. Larry had been in my life for 12 years, and I knew just exactly what I wanted to say about what I was feeling. Astrid has been my stepmother since 1973, and our relationship can probably be most kindly described as complex. And I have no idea what I'm feeling now.

I posted a picture of Larry, taken only a couple of months before his death, and less than 2 weeks after I last saw him. I could post a picture of Astrid, but it would be either taken by somebody else at a time and place to which I have no real emotional attachment, or so old as to not have any real relevance to it anymore. Such was the nature of our relationship.

If there is a gift to be had, it is that through all of this, both of my parents have each expressed a concern and a sympathy for the other that I honestly didn't think possible. A couple of people have wondered if this is perhaps some sort of karmic sign that my parents should be together again... I must ask forgiveness when I laugh at that. One co-worker asked if that was a fantasy that had died long ago. My answer was no, that was a fantasy that had never existed in the first place. If there is one thing I can be certain of, it is that that is not the path the universe has in store for either of them.

But beyond that... I don't know what to say...

Looking Back

2007-11-25T10:35:00.000-05:00

So, we are now back at home, pictures have been posted, wine has been drunk, and my body is beginning to figure out this night vs. day thing once again...

It's weird, though. We had a lovely, albeit somewhat frigid time, met a bunch of fun people, saw priceless art... but now that I'm back home, I sort of feel like, Italy? Check. Which is new for me. Every other time I've traveled like this, I've hated to leave and wanted to turn around and come back as soon as it was over. Now, I feel like OK, been there, done that.

Maybe it was because the weather was not all that conducive to wandering the city streets and exploring lots of stuff. Maybe it was that the emergency car repairs constrained my budget, so I wasn't shopping for everyone I've ever met or seeking out five-star restaurants. Maybe it's the lack of any familial connections. Maybe it's because Larry died ten days before I left. Or, maybe I'm just comparing apples to oranges, and Italy just doesn't speak to me the way other places I've traveled have done. Whatever the case, I feel like I'm bracing myself for returning to work tomorrow, where I'm going to get the, "So, how was your trip?" at every turn.

In other news, however, I should mention that my friend Erin's record of 8 scoops of gelato in a single day still stands -- I think I only ever got as high as 5. I can unequivocably say, however, that visitors to Venice should stay away from the gelato offered in the shops on Piazza San Marco. It was the least creamy, had noticeable ice chunks in it, and is clearly there only to cater to a tourist market that doesn't know any better. Seek out Gelateria Nico, even if you have to take a vaporetto completely around the city to get there. It's worth it. If you find yourself on the island of Lido, there was also a great little place there, right on the main street, where the scoops were humongous and they gave you a little wafer cookie with it, too. Yum.

In Florence, we did sample the wares at Vivoli, although did not get over to the competition at Perche No. (I think this was due in large part to the weather being at its coldest in Florence, making walking about unappealing and gelato as a reward unmotivating.) I had read in one of my guidebooks that gelato in Florence is generally sweeter than in other places, and based on my Vivoli experience, I can see where one could make the argument, but it was still damned tasty. The texture was a bit softer, so it got all melty a little faster, but the staff were very helpful in explaining the myriad of flavors available, and overall, I feel I can recommend Vivoli as an enjoyable experience.

The absolute winner for me, though, was Giolitti in Rome. These people have been around for over 100 years, and the place has sort of an old-time elegance to it... it's like black-tie gelato. They didn't seem too keen on offering gelato in a cup rather than a cone (I didn't see the option offered anywhere), but their cones are chocolate-coated, and their gelato was the smoothest, richest, creamiest, and most luxurious of any that I had during the entire trip. If I ever do find myself in Italy again, I'm going to try and get there to sample some more flavors.

Not sure that's enough of a reason by itself to go back, though.

My Ass is Freezing on the Beautiful White Marble

2007-11-16T11:14:00.000-05:00

PA and I have agreed on many things, of late... Italy is fun, gelato is yummy, espresso is addictive, Italian men are overwhelmingly hot... but I think the one thing we agree on most strongly at the moment is that Zes was somehow destined to not make this trip with us. It is COLD here, and she would not have appreciated God's little meteorological thumbing of the nose.

That said, it is also beautiful. The whirlwind touring of Wednesday afternoon did not diminish the beauty of this city by any measure. Yesterday, we were on our own to scope out precious works of art, sample local gelato (yes, apparently there IS a difference between cities!), experience an Italian laundromat, and take a short beauty break. Today was Pisa, which... for all the pictures you've seen of a building that tilts and what's the big deal... was really kinda cool. Not to mention the church and the baptistery that are right next to it that you NEVER hear much at all about -- it's a new perspective on all of that, really. I felt similarly to how I did upon seeing Mt. Rushmore live and in person. You know what it's going to look like, but somehow, the experience of actually being there makes it altogether different.

On the down side, the clouds rolled in and the wind kicked up, and this was probably the coldest day we've had yet. On top of that, we just missed a shuttle bus that would take us back to our tour bus to come back to the hotel, and we were unaware that we'd arrived at the bus stop just exactly as the shift was due to change... so, yeah, our butts sat on those white marble bus benches for just over half an hour before we gave up and decided to walk. An unbeknownst adventure, as even the tour director wasn't sure how to get back to our bus on foot! It didn't take long, though, till we were safe and warm on our comfy big green bus, and back on the road.

Oh, and PA and I also got insulted by one of the Nigerian illegal immigrants who walk around selling fake Pradas and shit!! Yeah, the hilarity continues...

Dinner in Fiesole tonight, then on to Orvieto and Rome tomorrow morning... which means I'll have to pack after dinner. Better be careful how much wine I drink!!

Aaaaand.... We're Walking

2007-11-14T13:17:00.000-05:00

Only mere moments available for this post, but for now, we have arrived in Florence, seen the Duomo, learned about leather, bought a sweatshirt, and realized how fabulous hot chocolate is here. Oh, and our feet are damned tired.

But, we've found the internet here, so more soon!

Buonasera!

2007-11-13T11:51:00.000-05:00

It's evening here in Italy, and for the record, PA and I have decided that time passes MUCH too slowly over there in the States. We've been tooling around Venice all frakkin' day, and when she asked me what time it was in Chicago, the answer was, "Oh... 10am." That just doesn't seem right, somehow.

In the two full days here (not counting the day of arrival, when we were heavy on the gaping and glazed looks), we've covered a lot of territory, thanks in part to the purchase of 12-hour vaporetto (waterbus) passes. It's interesting... I didn't really use public transit at all whilst in Central Europe. I think that was both because I had local relatives to take me around Budapest, but also because I did more of the optional trips and therefore had less free time. But I also think that perhaps, somehow, in her own quiet and unassuming way, PA pushes me to get out there. Which... is a good thing when one is thousands of miles from home! But perhaps we've overdone it just a tad for one day -- sitting here at the keyboard, we are both feeling like we're still on a boat. For God's sake, somebody stop the rocking!!

We depart for Florence in the morning... looking forward to warmer weather (or at least a lack of wind coming in off the water), and are debating Italian haircuts. We'll see... stay tuned to this station for updates as events warrant!

9/18/38 - 10/30/07

2007-10-30T19:18:00.000-05:00

Larry loved trains.

Larry loved his grandkids.

Larry loved Arizona.

Larry loved Carl Sandberg.

Larry loved his son.

Larry loved the Yankees.

Larry loved classical music.

Larry loved his job. Most days.

Larry loved giving up his job and being retired.

Larry loved his life.

Larry loved Annie.

And we who are left loved you back, dear one. Go in peace.

We'll Be Back After a Word From Our Sponsors

2007-10-27T13:10:00.000-05:00

Yes, yes... I have been woefully neglectful of this little piece of web space... I was reminded not too long ago that I have not put anything up here since June.

But fear not!! PirateAlice and I journey to Italy just two short weeks from today!! And from there, my friends, there will hopefully be blogging aplenty! At the very least, you'll have lots of pretty pictures to look at...

Memories of a Former Life

2007-06-30T20:54:00.000-05:00

As I sit here jamming out to all 75 Police tracks (OK, most of them... I skipped a few) in preparation for the concert next week, the wise and mighty iPod has seen fit to shuffle them in such a way that "Hole in My Life" is the last song. It reminds me of how, back in the day, Sting once said that the group would always close their shows with "So Lonely," because he loved the irony of closing out a gig in a massive stadium full of people with a song about desperation and feeling isolated. The irony here in my living room is similar.

I'm excited for this concert not just because it's going to be ass-kicking music from a group that I never believed I'd see on stage again. The Police were the defining music of my early college years. They were the end-all and be-all to this tender and as yet unbattered 18-year-old, at a time when I was still struggling to figure out who I was, and my place in the universe. Certain songs bring me immediately back to a time and place when the world was my bitch, anything was possible, I just had to figure out where I wanted to go, and how I wanted to get there, when I had no preconceived notions about what the universe might expect in return. Sometimes, a chord change is all I need to smell the cold Syracuse night air.

My introduction to the blonde trio came from a friend I'd made my freshman year of college. She lived down the hall in the dorm, shared a similar taste for biting sarcasm, and let me crash on her floor when my stuck-up bitch of a roommate was intent on having sex whether I was in the room or not. We roomed together the following year, visited each other during the summer, and when I moved to Chicago to find what it had to offer at the age of 20, she followed eighteen months later. She was my best friend and confidant for the next fifteen years, and even my ex-husband once told me, "You two have something that I just know better than to get between." It was me that took her to the airport when her father died. It was her I called when my marriage fell apart.

And then, in 1999, she cut me off. Broke my heart. Left for reasons I will never understand.

I've made my peace with it, with the fact that what happened will always be unknowable to me. But I've also had to find a comfort level in being OK with her being part of my past, that there are things in my world, important things that I don't want to let go of, that will just always be inextricably linked to the memory of that friendship. Like listening to The Police.

It's funny, because it really seems that her departure was the starting point of when things really turned around for me. I moved to another city, found new friends, went to school and embarked on a whole other life that is wonderful and fulfilling in ways that 18-year-old couldn't possibly have imagined. I realize now, in retrospect, that she had a lot of negativity, her world was so full of things she couldn't do... Hers was a life filled with holes. And mine, now, is a life of anything but.

So, by this time next week it will all be over except the ringing in my ears. I expect to have a completely righteous, rockin' good time, as part of a long weekend spent with people I love, because life is good.

And here's to you, Jane. I hope you get to see Sting 'n' The Boys when they come near you, wherever you are. I hope jamming out to "Regatta de Blanc" takes you back to a time when happiness came to you a little more easily. And I hope your life has a few less holes these days. Mine sure as hell does.