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The Creative Nerd
Last Call for Talk Sex with Sue Johanson
After 32 years on television, sex educator Sue Johanson has stepped aside from her popular call in show on Oxygen, Talk Sex with Sue. At 77, she tells CBC News, "1 a.m. is not her finest hour." While Sunday late night TV will never be the same, Sue plans to continue her work lecturing and writing about human sexuality.
I've been an admirer of Sue's for years now. In fact, I wrote about watching Talk Sex last July in the first month of this blog's existence.
Her brand of sex education with humor, acceptance, and an no-excuse attitude about safer sex is exactly what I believe in. I've always said, you aren't mature enough for sex until you are mature enough to protect yourself. If you can't buy rubbers, you have no business having sex at any age.
To me, morality is another discussion all together. Humans will always have sex no matter what cultural values are placed on the act. No matter what, knowledge has no down side. It can be used just as well for culturally accepted sex, as for any other type. Ignorance is not bliss, if you get my drift. Reruns of Talk Sex and Sue Johanson's website (not work or kid friendly) will, no doubt, useful resources for years to come.
Alfred Kinsey may have been the man who pioneered scientific research in the area of human sexuality, but it took a plain talking nurse from Toronto to get everyday people to ask questions about their personal sexuality.
I wish Sue another 77 years to answer and enlighten the world about the wonders of human sexuality.
The Blogosphere has Questions
It must say something about me as a person that I am just as excited with being tagged for a nice meme, then if I'd been given a gold anklet. I was tagged for this one by Charla of healthyhomeblog.
Here are the rules:1. The rules of the game get posted at the beginning.
2. Each player answers the questions about themselves.
3. At the end of the post, the player then tags 5-6 people and posts
their names, then goes to their blogs and leaves them a comment,
letting them know they’ve been tagged and asking them to read your blog.
4. Let the person who tagged you know when you’ve posted your answer.
And the questions:
1) What was I doing 10 years ago?
In April 1998, I was finishing up my junior year of high school. I was seventeen, to turn eighteen in August. I loved my poetry workshop class with Mr. Brush and was totally lost in algebra II.
A late bloomer, I was by then dating my first boyfriend. You know how some experiences aren't good or bad, but are what they are and help make you who you are? It was one of those things.
2) What are five things on your to-do list for today?
It's almost 1 am as I get ready to publish this, so it's tomorrow already.
Sleep in (might as well put something on the list I'll actually do)
Call my mom
Make brownies
Finish reading A Farewell to Arms
Visit the blogs on my blogroll
What snacks don't I enjoy? Seriously, I tend toward sweet snacks. Chocolate is the core of my snacking. Hershey's is my favorite. I love cookies and brownies, or ice cream. I've been buying dried cranberries to snack on. With dark chocolate, they are so satisfying.
My salty snack of choice is Cheez-it's. I keep the single serve on hand for snacking and work.
4) Things I would do if I were a billionaire?
If I were a billionaire, the people I love would never have to worry about money again. They would all have a home and enough money to follow their dreams. I would never waste another moment doing something I wasn't passionate about. Chris and I would buy a big house on some acreage. We'd rescue cats and dogs. We'd travel as much as we wanted. We'd be able to spend time with family, even if we didn't live right by them. Chris would be able see the Cubs, Bills and Leafs whenever he wanted to go. I'd study. Maybe not to get a degree, but to go deeper with writing, photography and general knowledge. As for giving to charitable causes, I'd give anything but campaign contributions.
5) Three Bad Habits
Going to bed at 3 am. Putting off important things like doctors appointments. Watching TV I don't really care about when I could be doing something productive.
6) 5 places I have lived
Last five in reverse order:
Farmington, MO (current)
Sheridan, NY
Kent, WA
Silverdale, WA
Eva Beach, HI
7) 5 Jobs I've had
I haven't had five jobs, but here are the four I've had: Payless Shoe (seven years), temp job at a factory (two and half weeks), receptionist for ob/gyn doctor (nine months), call center for a mobile phone company (since August 2006).
Five people I want to know more about…
I, personally, like being tagged. Still, I know it is can get a bit crazy, so consider this link-love first and tag second. No pressure:
Bunny
Gloria
BeccA
The Gal Herself
Rae
The Red Tent by Anita Diamant
It is appropriate to share this book with the women in one's family. The strongest thread within the story is the me
mory of women passed down by the bonds of family, knowledge, and love. The story is the intimate tale of woman living in early Biblical times. Told in the voice of Dinah, daughter of Jacob, Diamant wove the tale around a much storied family from the Book of Genesis. The fictional account fleshes out the people, women and men, who are often little more than names in the Biblical narrative.
The very details Genesis lacks are what make The Red Tent extraordinary. I could nearly taste the olives, smell sun warmed skin, feel sand under my feet. I could imagine myself among the women in the red tent welcoming the new moon and celebrating the cycles of our bodies. In these close quarters rivalries are put aside. Traditions and wisdom are transmitted to the next generation while men are not around.
I shared joy and sorrow over the birth stories of each child begotten to Jacob with details to which only the woman attending the birth would be privy. I've always have trouble reading the great lists of genealogy in Genesis. I could not help thinking if women had set down the history destined to become the Bible, no child would have been listed with name alone without some remembrance of their humanity.
While the novel illuminates the lives of three generations of Abraham's descendants, even those with no background in Jeudo-Christian traditions would find much in The Red Tent to inthrall. I was taken in prologue by this:
"If you want to understand any woman you must first ask about her mother and listen carefully."
Even into the dust of history, our collective mothers have made womanhood what it is today. It is a proud heritage we share across cultural divides.
Modern feminism would have us remember our foremothers as weak and subjugated, pitiable creatures with little more place in culture than the animals their men domesticated. I do not dispute the fact of lesser status and many injustices existing in nearly every civilization throughout history. However, limiting our understanding of ancient women to that is disrespectful and narrow minded.
The Red Tent helps us remember the strength it took to thrive in the conditions in which they lived. In the Western world, it is unthinkable to imagine bring babies into the world knowing only a few would likely survive birth and childhood. They were aware how dangerous childbearing was back then. Each woman lived with the knowledge she risked her life to be a mother. Even the most skilled midwife had few tools at her disposal; herbs for medication, a knife, and her experienced hands.
A woman like Leah, Jacob's first wife and mother of many, would continue to endure these risks. Without these brave mothers, humanity could have easily died out by the gift of reason that sets our species apart. I do not buy the idea that they had looser emotional ties to their children than we do now that the death of a child is relatively rare. No, these children were precious and loved, or they would not have been conceived at such a high cost. Choosing to bear children was the ultimate gift of love passed down to modern mankind.
In the book, it is very clear that the men tend the goats and sheep, then sit around telling tall tales and drinking beer. The women run the household, process the wool, tend the garden, harvest and process olives, grow grapes for wine, and brew beer, plus the traditional childcare and cooking. Still think working woman are a modern concept?
They did the doctoring even beyond midwifery. Diamant writes about the women caring for Jacob after he wrestles with a stranger in the dessert. He limped for the rest of his days, but he survived his injuries and walked thanks to the women of his household. With knowledge of herbs medicinal properties to rival any pharmaceutical scientist, complains of pain or upset stomach were made to the elder women of the family. I would not be surprised they had effected remedies for skin aliments better than modern psoriasis treatment. They may not have had modern diagnostic techniques, but their cures for aliments were the basis of medicine before men began studying healing arts.
I encourage you to read The Red Tent, then share it with your mother, daughter, sister, or friend. Nothing I can say can describe the experience, but I know you will not be disappointed.
I am Midnight
| You Are Midnight |
 Whether you're a night owl, living in a commune, or taking a vow of silence - you like to experiment with your lifestyle. Expressing your individuality is important to you, and you often lie awake in bed thinking about the world and your place in it. You enjoy staying home, but that doesn't mean you're a hermit. You also appreciate quality time with family and close friends. |
Captain Obvious reporting from Blogthings (Can you say, guilty pleasure turned blog post?)
I have been known to put much of my night owl tendencies off as insomnia. It's true, sometimes I suffer, but sometimes I relish the hours when everyone has gone to sleep.
I do not remember a time when standing under the velvet cover of night sky failed to stir an excitement in me. As early as five years old, I have memories of being outside at night, full of wonder.
Let me catch fireflies and June bugs at midnight. Give the worms to the early birds.
Two of my favorite night experiences took place on the Big Island of Hawaii at Volcano National Park on the week of my thirteenth birthday. First is simply the clearest view of the Milky Way I have ever seen. We stayed on the volcano itself, at extreme attitudes. It looked as though it would be possible to reach up and touch the bright band of stars.
The second memory is the volcanic flow itself. We went to watch the lava flow into the Pacific, hitting the ocean with a massive plume of smoke raising from the point where the heat of the lava hit the chill of the ocean. I wonder what I wrote in my journal over the week.
When I look for vacation deals, I'm not looking for a hike starting at sunrise. If I cannot see the stars without interference from man made light, I at least want somewhere exciting to go when I stay up late. I want people, good food and music. Then, give me a quiet place by the water where I can sit with a friend to talk until dawn.
Here's to midnight and beyond...
Four Foods on Friday # 27
Welcome back, friends, for the twenty-seventh edition of Four Foods on Friday. I'm patting myself on the back for remembering to play two weeks in a row. It appears my mental note worked as well as laptop memory to keep me in the loop.
Visit Fun, Crafts and Recipes to join the fun.
#1. What brand of frozen dinners do you think are the best and why?
Marie Callender's taste the most like real food. The problem is most of the larger dinners require more than a toss in the microwave. I'd get frustrated when I'd take on to work for lunch only to find I needed a plate to place the chicken on or sharp knife to open a packet. At home, they would be my dinner of choice.
What I actually buy is Weight Watchers, Healthy Choice or Lean Cuisine. I figure no frozen dinner is worth the excess of the "regular" style. Plus, they tend to have less sodium (okay, it's still a ton). Not a surprise, the Lean Cuisine have the best taste and texture of veggies, but usually highest Weight Watchers Point Count.
#2. What is your favorite frozen waffle or breakfast food?
My favorite frozen breakfast food is... ice cream.
Not recommended for everyday, but try mint chocolate chip or cookies and cream. I dare you to say it doesn't hit the spot.
#3. Frozen appetizers. Which one is your favorite?
Stuffed Jalapenos. I won't complain about cheddar, but cream cheese is my favorite.
#4. Share a recipe or meal made from at least one frozen food.
Since Chris started using our local butcher shop (if you don't, you should), we don't use many frozen convenience foods for meals.
One thing we haven't replaced is frozen chicken tenders for subs. We make them on French bread with Chris' secret wing sauce. (In Buffalo, you don't say "Buffalo wings" - dead give away you don't know what you're doing. Chris would ban me from wings if I didn't honor them as my four years in Western New York taught me.)
Bonus photo challenge: We need twice the space on the door for condiments and whatnot. Notice the big bottle on the top shelf - Frank's RedHot for wing sauce. If it's not Frank's, don't bother.
Win a Food Processor at My Wooden Spoon
Okay, it's not My Wooden Spoon, but the fabulous food blog of Lori. You might know her as A Cowboy's Wife. I think that's how most in the blogging world think of her. She's a hardworking mama and blogger woman, so I'm happy to send the link-love.
Now I'm starting to wonder if Lori is folding under the pressure of five blogs (my count), three growing boys, and her beloved man. See, today Lori announced a give away a week for three whole months on My Wooden Spoon.
If week one is any indication the prizes to come, I wouldn't be surprised if she gives away a treadmill on the last week. Don't think it fits a food blog? Just try some of her yummy treats, then talk to me.
I'd love to win a 24-ounce Cuisinart Food Prep Plus Processor, but in fairness I'm going to tell you if you click the above link you'll find out how to enter. You don't even have to own a blog to enter.
Law & Order: KFC
I am a huge fan of the Law & Order franchise. Those close to me would tag that the statement understatement of the year. Chris and I have seen most of them so many times, we actually enjoy wisecracking about the most dramatic moments.
I also love to play "what is today's theme" for L&O classic reruns on TNT. If you watch the daytime set, they almost always have a common thread. This week, it was "juvenile delinquents" on Tuesday and "living a double life/in the closet" on Wednesday.
Hey, those are my days off during the week.
One of the Wednesday episodes was when Mike Logan (Chris Noth) (drool) punched a city councilman in the face. The character is sent to work Staten Island homicide. If you haven't seen the Law & Order Movie with Logan working a case out of his own private purgatory, you're missing out. Can I just say: Ice T as pimp in a purple coat and leopard print hat long before he was a SVU detective. It's a priceless bit part for us hardcore fans. Chris Noth, of course, played Mr. Big in Sex & the City, before returning to Manhattan in Law & Order: CI.
When I saw Robot Chicken's send up of Law & Order on Adult Swim, I got what my soul longed for: a marriage of my Law & Oder love with my sick obsession with programming targeted toward adolescent males with pale skin in need of acne treatment. From classics like Space Ghost and the Brak Show, to Aqua Teen Hunger Force and Robot Chicken, I love the messed up humor even when I know it's wrong, so wrong.
While I usually don't feature video clips, this is Law & Order with Chickens. How could I not?
The real question is, how many episodes fit this model? Enjoy.
Fund Raising and Waste Weirdness
Like most workplaces, the call center where I works participates in many charity and fund raising activities. We do a food drive and a school supply drive. We've collected magazines for local nursing homes and collected cash for local schools. The Red Cross has come for on site blood drives a few times. I donated Chris' blood.
The biggest push is for Relay for Life for The American Cancer Society. It seems like most of the year human resources and management are offering something in exchange for cash donations. Since it's hard to argue with cancer research, of course, I put money in whenever I have cash.
A couple weeks back, the fund raiser of the day was a chili dog lunch severed by management manning a table in the break room, proceeds to benefit Relay for Life. I didn't happen to have five bucks for the full lunch, but I did have $2.50 in quarters. The manager working the table agreed to sell me a bowl of chili. It was a cold, rainy day. Perfect for some chili goodness.
Here's the weird thing. She put on fresh plastic disposable gloves
right before serving my bowl of chili, even though she'd just severed someone before me.
I hesitated to drop my dirty quarters into her sanitary hands. She told me it was fine, that she'd change gloves. Now, I'm frugal along with somewhat conscious of conservation for Earth friendly reasons. It seemed more logical that I would drop my change into whatever receptacle was holding the profits.
When I went around the table to attempt the cash drop, I noticed she was increasingly uncomfortable. In the end, I cringed when I placed the coins in her plastic clad mitt. I thought those gloves would have served the hungry folks hovering behind me just fine.
I had the feeling she was concerned I would dip into the kitty. What the heck? So awkward. I won't make a thing out of it again, but I still think they are using more gloves then necessary.
Try a jar on the table, people.
Food Foods on Friday
It's my first week playing Four Foods on Friday, from Val at Fun, Crafts and Recipes. This is her 26th week offering four questions on the all important topic of food. I think half the blogs I read play.
Up til now, I've meant to join in, but remembered on Saturday. What was I thinking, blogging about something like postage tape instead of playing with the other bloggers?
Anyway, Val thinks up four questions for everyone to answer. Leave a comment at her place if you play along, and of course visit the other participants.
#1. When going out to dinner what items do your order? Appetizers, soup, salad, dinner, dessert.
Dinner and dessert. I have, on occasion, skipped everything in favor of dessert only.
#2. How predictable are you when eating out? Do you usually order a meal that you’ve had before or do you like to try new things?
Nearly 100% predictable. At mid-priced sit down places like Denny's, I will order a club sandwich better than 9 times out of 10.
#3. When eating at a restaurant, what beverage do you like to order with your meal?
I often have this conversion with the server:
"Diet Coke, please."
"Diet Pepsi?"
"Water, please."
#4. Name a meal that you ate at a restaurant that you liked so much you tried to recreate it, as well as the name of the restaurant and the recipe.
Call me lazy, but I've never done it. I should learn to make tiramisu. Yummy.
Zoo Playground
Kate, little Sabrina, and I ended up at the St Louis Zoo on Tuesday.
We'd planned to go to Grant's Farm, St Louis landmark and home to the Budweiser Clydesdales. Since Grant's Farm was still on winter hours of weekends only, we did the only sensible thing; we went to the Zoo.
Sabrina doesn't care where we go, as long as she can run and play. The Children's Zoo has a nice play area. No swing sets or I would have played, too. I snapped this picture of a very unusual hippo while Sabrina was playing.
Not only does that hippo seem to have an extra pair of legs, it seems to wear Cars sneakers. Pretty strange.
Countdown to Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull
Source: Maxim.com
In just over a month on May 22nd, the fourth installment of the classic archaeologist adventures finally arrives in theaters. I can't wait to see it. I don't go to the movies more than a few times a year in my adult life, not like the usually weekly trips to the theater when I was growing up. Some movies are worth the effort in budgeting and planning to see it on the big screen no matter what it takes. Since this cinematic experience would not be complete without Kate to share popcorn and post-film discussion, what it will take is babysitting.
I never saw the original three Indy films on the big screen. I was far too young, of course. Raiders of the Lost Ark came out in 1981, Temple of Doom in 1984, and Last Crusade in 1989. I saw them shortly after the third was released on VHS.
I enjoyed them, but I wasn't obsessed with Indy until Christmas break of my eighth grade year. Someone in Kate's family got the trilogy for Christmas. I swear we just about wore them out. We watched the opening bit of Temple of Doom until we could sing "Anything Goes" in the language Kate Capshaw sings it in her flashy stage show.
We were captivated by Dr. Jones. As much an intellectual as an action hero, Indy is the perfect fictional crush for a geek girl. I could picture myself as one of the adoring students in the beginning of Raiders all but sighing over him even in bow tie and glasses. Maybe even as the girl who wrote "Love" and "You" on her eyelids. She'd have been doubly impressed
For the forth film, the good Professor Jones has been dragged away from his classroom and academic endeavors once again. This time he is up against Soviets, not Nazis, foes. If there isn't a chamber full of snakes, I'll be disappointed. At least we already know the hat and whip are back.
This month's Maxim features an interview with Indy himself. Harrison Ford is sexy as he ever was at sixty-five. The beautiful black & white portrait of Ford is worth the cover price.
Cats Grow on Trees
Of all stuff we have bought the cats over the years, the most used item by far is the cat tree. As you can see, we are on our second. We had the black one from the second photo with brown cat, Cubby. It lasted around a year. Our cats play hard. We replaced it with the tan one Otis is sleeping on.
One of the selling points for the floor to ceiling cat three is how many purposes it serves. First, cats need a place to climb to feel safe. It is scratching post, bed, lookout post, and fitness equipment. Not bad for $35 at Wal-mart.
Pro Sports Sponsorship
I try not to plug my husband's sports blog too often. For one thing, Chris is a serious sports guy. His blog is written for equally devoted fans. If you enjoy sports, but can go a day without knowing your team's stats, some of his posts are a bit intense.
Once in a while, Chris writes about something that transcends the world of sports. He has written about worthy charities in the sports world like Mike Ditka's Gridiron Greats. It is important to him to highlight the part of sports that transcends games and scores, reflecting the culture in which we live.
In his latest post, Chris just had to write about a current sponsorship agreement. In a deal that speaks for itself, Kia is the official car of the NBA. Go read the post. It's as funny as Yao Ming in a Kia Rio.
Retro Kitch Couch
Kate and I spent Sunday in Cape Girardeau, around 45 minutes south of Farmington. Cape isn't as large as St. Louis, of course, but they have a mall, Target, and Kohl's, none of which Farmington boasts.
Since three year old Sabrina was at her dad's for the day, we made use of the day for non-toddler friendly activates. After a which trip to the mall and Target, we went to the old downtown along the river. We'd been to the antique shops that make up most of the storefronts back in August for my birthday. Not toddler friendly in the least.
I love the variety among the stores. From glorified junk shops to museum quality, with most solidly in between. Neither of us made a purchase, making for an outing similar to the art museum.
Both of us have a weakness for kitchen stuff. And tacky lamps. There's a set of sconces at a Farmington antique shop I may go back for - blue and green with art deco fish.
Wearables are nice, too. We both think hats should come back in fashion. I dream of collecting vintage brooches. Sometimes I think of starting special savings accounts to set aside cash for finds too good to pass up. I still think about a flower brooch I looked at in August and only passed up because I didn't have the money.
Furniture is the one thing I can truly say that Kate got me hooked on. She took me to an auction my first weekend living in Missouri where we bid on, but lost two couches older than us.
The couch pictures above is at a shop in Cape Girardeau. I took the picture in August just because it is so cool. The color is more green then yellow unlike the picture. The best part is that it's eight feet long. Something about having a husband over six feet tall makes long couches extraordinarily appealing. Even if I had five hundred dollars to drop on a couch, it wouldn't fit in our living room.
When we have a house to furnish, I'll be on the lookout for something with the same kitchy goodness as the eight foot long green sofa that got away.
Blogging and Money Disillustionment
A recent article on InvestorBlogger the question of whether working with Izea services PayPerPost and SocialSpark is worth the payout. The author states he has made an average of $8.50 per post while working with PayPerPost. He goes on to list the the time and effort it took to complete each posts. By his reports, he has written 180 posts for Pup making over $1600 in September 2006. Not bad for someone so dissatisfied.
I, on the other hand, submitted my first opp for PayPerPost in November 2006. My blog was on MySpace and no one read it. I moved here July 2007, becoming a serious blogger. In total, I've completed 41 opps. I am happy with the money offered. The only thing I would change would be to have many more advertisers and opportunities. As the medium matures, those advertisers will come.
I think the difference between InvestorBlogger's feeling of disillusionment and my overall happiness with the money PayPerPost offers stems from what motivates someone to blog.
For me, blogging is about three things; creative expression, meeting other members of the community, and making money.
I blog because I have been keeping a journal since I was ten, and began writing short stories and poems shortly after. I love to write. Having a blog is the ultimate in personal expression. I am writer, editor and publisher.
The whole concept of blogging as a community activity centered around writing and reaction to that writing is so exciting. I love comments. I love participating on other blogs. Without that, blogging means nothing. Might as well go back to spiral notebooks.
The money I make is a wonderful help. When I consider work that pays on the low end, say five to ten dollars, I think of buying milk and bread, putting gas in the truck, or a fast food meal. Our budget squeaks less thanks to blogging money.
Not going to lie, it motivates me when I'm thinking vegging in front of the TV would be easier. I am humbled by the fact the advertisers will pay to have me write a post about them. I have no qualifications beyond owning a domain and a willingness to turn out content. I try to live up to it with good writing and integrity.
The down side to trying to make money blogging is the sheer amount of time involved in networking a blog into profitability. It is not enough to just have a blog or even have wonderful content updated often. An effort must be made to generate traffic.
Like it or not, I spend in that area then I do writing. I want traffic because I hope to offer something to readers who stop by. I am proud of my blog. I like to think what I have to say contributes something.
What I always tell people when I explain about blogging and making money blogging, while there is money to be made blogging, if you wouldn't do it anyway, it will never pay enough to make up the time invested.
Escapism
Pictured above are the books that came in the mail from my Mommy yesterday. I've been looking forward to some of the titles for months.
More then the gift of physical books, I am forever indebted to Mom for the huge amount of pleasure I get from books. She cannot share vacations involving Caribbean villa rentals with me, but we can both travel to rural Ireland in the pages of the latest Maeve Binchy novel.
Thanks, Mom.
Blogging and Gossip
While I do not regret having chosen to use my name for my blog's domain, there is one pronouned drawback. I often envy my more anonymous friend in the blogosphere.
I do not have the option of venting about serious personal issues involving any other person. It is my personal policy to conduct myself online in a way so to guarantee I would never be "in trouble" from a comment on another blog or a post on my blog read by someone I know in real life.
I am more than willing to air a certain amount of my personal dirty laundry for all the digital world to see. I do not, however, air laundry involving friends, family or co-workers.
The drawback in lost fodder makes me think about starting a spare blog somewhere anonymous to write the stories I cannot tell where I sign my name.
Don't get me wrong, I do not thing my family has an above average amount of skeletons lurking in closets. But some of the stories are very good, yet very distasteful. It would be unfair to write them in an autobiographical blog.
When it comes to co-workers, I care about my reputation as someone who does not gossip. I also value employment. It is tempting to blog about that person (or people), the conversation I overheard, and the drama I find so amusing. Then I remember anything who can spell KUBALA can find my blog.
Rest assured then, however you know me, you will only appear in these pages in the most flattering light. I will be wearing my rose colored glasses.
If and when I write fiction again, after my since high school hiatus, I'll have several lifetimes worth of material in family stories and work place drama. If you see yourself in those tales, I'll just smile and say, "Any resemblance to real life persons are merely coincidental."
Nostalgia for the Magic Kingdom
In my childhood, I always say, we didn't so much take vacations. We relocated. Stopping to see the sites along the way was a bonus. Such is the life of a Navy brat.
In fairness to my parents, I saw more of America while I was in grade school than many people see in their entire lives. The travel is a cornerstone of who I am. We even took a handful of trips for pleasure that ended in the same place they started.
One I remember fondly was a trip to Disney Land. We drove down the coast from Bangor, Washington to California for the express purpose of going to Disney. It was the spring of my fourth grade year. My brother, James, was in kindergarten. Daddy couldn't get leave during our spring break and would be back out to sea by summer. They took us out of school to take the family trip.
Aside from visiting Disney as an adult (which I have yet to do), I cannot imagine a better age for a little girl to visit The Magic Kingdom. I wouldn't turn nine until August. I hadn't yet acquired the teenager sensibility that relegates childhood pleasures to a box marked uncool and embarrassing. I could admit completely to my joy at the rides and meeting the costumed characters with no loss of face.
I adored Peter Pan. You fly up over London, then into Never Land under a blanket of starts. It is real as Never Land in my heart.
James asked to go on Mr. Toad's Wild Ride over and over. We couldn't figure out what interested him so much. It wasn't until five or six times through, he explained it was warm in the part of the story the goes through hell. He was cold in the spring night air. To this day, I've never seen the movie the ride is from, but I wore my Mickey sweatshirt from the matching set of four we bought until it fell apart.
One thing we didn't do that I regret is spending any time on the many things to do in Los Angeles, making it a city I have technically visited but not experienced. Sort of like Jewel Caves, a National Park not far from Mount Rushmore, where Dad had James and I run into the visitor's center to stamp our National Park passbooks. We never saw the caves, but I can report the visitor's center is indistinguishable from visitor center's at other National Parks.
Next time I have a chance to visit sunny L.A., I will take advantage of discounts and information from Trusted Tours & Attractions. They offer twenty-three cities worth of sightseeing tours. With the expert advice, I won't miss any important things to do in Boston next time I'm in New England.
For those of us who indulge our wanderlust through our internet connections, I recommend signing up for their free newsletter. Who knows, they may even add a city higher on my must-visit list. Sign up before May 1st to be entered to win a GPS device. Talk about making vacations easier.
Quality Cat Snuggling Time
Our Eddie doesn't want affection all the time or every day. When he does want some lovin' he is very demanding. About once a week, he'll lay down on me when I'm hanging out watching TV. Nothing says love like the contented expression on his face while I scratch behind his ears.
After a lazy day of relaxing with Hubby and the cats, I'm headed over to Midlife Musings for this week's Self Portrait Sunday.
Apartment Living with Cats
The apartment complex I live in is owned by a personal injury attorney.
No kidding.
It sounds like a joke: What do you get when you cross a landlord with an ambulance chaser?
We moved into our tiny one bedroom apartment September 1, 2005. It cost a small fortune in pet fees to get our well traveled felines in. Two-hundred dollars a head times three cats, plus an added twenty-five dollars a month per cat. Outrageous, yes, but they are family.
In May 2006, the frayed screen in our bedroom window gave out. It was messed up when we moved in. The pressure of the cats leaning on it was too much.
All three cats, curious creatures, went out the window. Chris found the girls in short order. Cubby was huddled between the building and the central air unit. She's my high strung baby who doesn't like change. Otis was calmly exploring the small strip of wooded area behind the building. She came when Chris called her.
Eddie, our handsome boy, was gone a horrible seventy-two hours. I slept with the window open in the bedroom in hopes Eddie would find his way home. Online I read to leave food for an olfactory trail home. We left a bowl of tuna on the windowsill. I'll never forget the thunderstorm that night. Listening to the rain broke my heart. Eddie came home at six weeks old. He never knew a life without a food bowl and a warm, dry place to bed down.
The next day we put the sheet he spent time on outside the door hoping the scent of himself and his siblings would lead him home. The sources I read confirmed that many indoor cats freak out when they get outside. They'll run blindly for sometime before realizing they don't know where they are. By the time instinctual sense of direction takes over, the cat is can be miles from home.
Wither our efforts helped or not, he found his way back to the complex. On the third night, a neighbor from the front building called to report seeing our cat from the fliers we'd left everywhere. Chris bolted out the door praying it would be Eddie. I followed without stopping to put on shoes.
Eddie lost several pounds while he was missing. On his big long frame, it was noticeable. He's made up for those days without food by mooching off our plates every day for the last two years. I swore I'd never get in the habit of feeding our animals off our plates, but I can't bring myself to deny him. What are bits of meat, cheese or egg in light of almost losing him?
In the time since we got our Eddie back, we have signed two new year leases. Our rent was raised the first year, but not the second. The owner (who I have never actually met) has bought the larger apartment complex next door to ours. That makes three managed by the same lady that runs this place and sharing one maintenance man.
We have been requesting a replacement for the defective screen the entire time. Each time, we are told it'll be done in a few days.
On Monday, the manager knocked on the door wanting to come in to look at our faucets. Apparently, the owner thinks the water bills are too high. While that is all well and good, Chris was not going to be bullied. It's against the law for landlords to show up without notice to be admitted.
We'd gone through her "inspections" before. I disagree with anyone having a right to comment on my "clutter" in a space I pay good money to keep my stuff in. Inspect for safety and fire hazards, fine. Otherwise, mind your own business. Still, after failing the first one, we've gone overboard each time they've called for inspections. The indignity of being judged is bad enough without it being pop-quiz style.
We've cleaned, covered and stashed all week. We even got up at 7:30 AM (AM!) to get new litter boxes and litter. Had to wait until today for payday. Of course, I know we'll still get complaints that she can smell it. It's so hard to not tell her to kiss my behind. Anytime they rent to a smoker across the hallway, my bathroom smells like I smoke. Unless someone is standing in my dining room, (and I didn't invite 'em) they'd never smell my litter boxes.
She was supposed to be here between 10 and 12 today. I called the office at 11:55 to find out when I could expect her. The maintenance man was there. He called her for me, reporting she wasn't coming in today. She picked today to have her sick, twenty-five year old cat to sleep. I know she loved the cat. I am not callous toward the difficult decision. Still, she had an appointment with us. I cannot imagine we were the only ones who said heck no to her intrusion Monday. If not, they should have on principle.
It was unprofessional not to handle business as promised. I would be more forgiving if it hadn't happened every time in nearly three years. I know this isn't some luxury condo overlooking Branson private golf courses, but I still expect better for my hard earned rental dollars. Again today, the maintenance man promised a screen for the bedroom window. I even agreed that we'd put it in ourselves. It's a set up where you've got to remove the sliding part of the window to install the screen. I regretted that agreement as soon as I hung up. I regret it even more now, because the screen was not dropped off outside our door as promised.
What exactly am I paying for each month? Over flowing dumpsters and absentee management.
I want to be left alone. I want peace.
I have serious anxiety about being judged in my home, plus a fear of loosing everything I've worked for. Chris, the cats and I having a place to live and our basic needs met is why I get up when the alarm goes off in the morning. Slightly irrational, but I have reasons behind what blows up in my head to disproportionate levels. Inspections and fighting to get something done are both triggers that have me on edge.
Now I can look forward to insomnia, stress and second guessing myself and our cleaning until at least Tuesday or Wednesday.
We need a house. Then as long as I pay the mortgage, no one is going to knock on the door to judge how we live our lives.