Moving Day Cometh

Tomorrow, I start the process of moving to a new apartment. By Saturday, I will be completely moved. I'm looking forward to the new home. Also, I will be looking forward to seeing my family as they are coming to help with the move. In total, there will be 12-13 people at any given time during the move process. I expect it to be a flurry of activity. I don't want to count my calories before they are burned, but this could be the most well planned move I've ever conducted.

The kitties, sluethes that they are, are keenly aware that SOMETHING is going on which they may not like initially. They have caught on that there are packed boxes (which have been piling up now for a month) all over the dining room and their things are being put in those boxes. Cats tend to be smart, astute beings, very sensitive to changes in their environment--or so I'm told. LOL

And now, I'm tired. Five hours of cleaning, packing and moving stuff around has rendered me useless for the rest of the night. It's time to fall asleep while watching Vincent D'Onofrio on Law and Order CI; which makes it a Thursday.

Good night.

Are you ready?

In a world where the Dems are viewing their strongest candidate right now for a 2008 run at the White House as being Hillary Clinton, even the most liberal columnists are running and hiding at the thought and looking for other options to offer up. I read an interesting one of these yesterday; a Clinton-Clinton ticket. Constitutionally, it is a viable possiblity and an interesting thought strategy. What is scary isn't the thought of the poster couple for marital therapy running on a joint ticket--it's the thought that the only hitter the Dems have had in ages is Bill Clinton. You have to wonder--why?

One major event down, one more to go.

It's Sunday and I'm sitting in the big chair with one cat on my legs fast alseep and another in the empty space next to me, also fast asleep. They are exhausted from my having forced them to play. They indulge me, you know, because I'm so clearly enthralled with a spare shoelace and that horrendous looking feather toy---it's the least they can do. LOL

So, Mal's wedding was yesterday and it was beautiful. I'm happy it is over and she is now off for her honeymoon and he stress we have been feeling leading up yesterday has faded. She mentioned at lunch between hair and makeup appointments yesterday that it will be nice to be able to have a conversation that doesn't involve wedding stuff. It will certainly be a change of pace, but I think we can adjust nicely.

Now, there is only the move left for this month. I'm well on my way to being packed up and will continue to finish over the course of this week. I managed to get the major moving items done last week--lease signing, utilities, change of address notification to the major areas--and now I will continue to work on the rest.

And I am, working on the "rest" that is. After a few rather sleepless nights, I got a good 10 in last night and have been lolling around today. No TV or radio either--just enjoying the quiet and wondering about some things that have bothered me in the last few days... I'm a fairly generous person, especially when it comes to my friends--there is not much that I have that I would not allow them to use, have or whatever, but it really upsets me when it is taken for granted and assumed. No, I don't mind when someone uses my laptop or even my home for something, but I appreciate being asked first. The policy has always been that you can help yourself to whatever is in my fridge, but just let me know. I don't think it is much to ask for a small consideration in the grand scheme of things. In a reverse situation, I would never consider infringing upon my friends without at least that consideration. It is very damning, and I would hate to have to change how I do things because of a small minority in my life who have little respect. Maybe it is just time to change that small minority?

WOW...

So, I went to the Planned Parenthood website because I had a question about the hormone used in an IUD... But, that is neither here nor there, I'm always amazed by the wealth of information on their site. It is beyond conprehension to me that while they do support abortion rights in this country that so many people would want to see them fall apart. Their site had information on birth control, facts about use, healthy sexual practices and so much more.

I got to the site and clicked on the wrong link initially and was amazed to read that 75 percent of men and women who are sexually active will have at one time have a sexually transmitted infection (STI). I think about my friends--many come to me with their questions about birth control and advice. I'm not sure when I became the one to go to with questions about birth control or STIs; but I don't mind. I used to sell sex toys, so I'm sure it is a natural connection. In many ways, it is. I've always been open about discussing these things; ever since college when I used to hand out condoms on campus.

Still and back to Planned Parenthood. After visiting their site today, I'm more committed to supporting their organization. Afterall, I visit the site about once a month looking up something, and I should not take for granted my right to access this information--so that is why I write tonight: first, protect yourself because 75 percent is high and remember, part of protection is talking to your doctor about your sexual health--your doctor may not ask you, make sure you bring it up. Second, educate yourself. Lastly, but certainly not least, do not take for granted the resources we have available to us--you never know when someone might succeed in taking them away.

I'll put my soabox away--it does not belong out anyway. I'm certainly not a perfect person and I can appreciate that my friends can come to me when they need to and have an open dialouge regarding these topics. I'm proud that they can instill that trust in me and I certainly would not want to get all preachy now. :)

Have a lovely evening.

Realizing Goals

Earlier today, I was thinking about goals... as I usually do when faced with the prospect of eating food that was ordered in, or ordered in a resturant. At the beginning of September, I set a goal to lose 8 pounds and as a reward, I would get the patent red leather shoes I happened across while in Macy's. It also meant, I was giving up my 1-2 times a week eating lunch out.

We are 20 days into September, and as of this morning, I have achieved 50 percent of my goal; which when you consider that 8 pounds, for my weight, it pretty significant, I'm delighted to have achieved 4 pounds in 20 days. Those shoes will be mine before too long.

Achieving goals means choices. It doesn't just apply to weight loss; it is across the board in both personal and professional goals. The choices we make help us to achieve or not achieve our goals. Of course, nothing is that entirely simplistic; there are other factors, but I am of the firm belief that it is our overall choices that influence our successes.

Now, how you measure success... that is an entirely other thought for an entirely other day.

One toke over the line?

Marajuana advocate Willie Nelson was B-U-S-T-E-D for having nearly 1.5 pounds of marajuana on his tour bus and almost a quarter pound of 'srooms. Just when it seems that the world is moving fast and things change rapdily... Willie comes around to remind us that some things will never change. It certainly says something.

Arrr!

Yes, it is the official "Talk Like a Pirate Day." For those of you who were waiting anxiously so you didn't alarm folks around you with pirate speak, now be ye chance, matey.

Changing of the Season

It is a beautiful day in southeastern Michigan. I'm sitting in a coffee shop listening to Norah Jones work through "Humble Me"--a favorite of mine, and thinking about the changing of the season. It is the last weekend of summer, my appetite has already indicated that in its desire for squash, pumpkin, wheat bread and apples. My mind is with the appetite in that I'm thinking of baking, freezing and switching from my summertime affair with Shakira, Joan Jett, the Artic Monkeys and Pussycat Dolls and migrating to autumnal favorites Jimmy Buffett, Bob Dylan, Bruce Springsteen, Diana Krall and Harry Connick Jr. Sweaters are out, boots and non-open toe shoes have already been worn... the fashion is gradually shifting with the smell of the leaves preparing to change and the morning dew sticking heavier on the grass than before. Colors are moving from aquamarine to orange again.

I usually feel a little down; I want to embrace the change, but I don't want to lose the warmth of the summer to the coolness of the autumn. People change with the season, and as I wonder where I am going and what I'm going to find ahead, I know something has already clicked in me. I avoided the news out of NY fashion week this time around. Normally, I seek it out and delight in the latest to come out of the new line ups--even if I loathe it. But I've been pre-occupied; writers block, if you will allow the metaphor. It's writers block in the literal sense and in the figurative sense... I have writer's block in all the areas of my life. I find it interesting, even ironic, that the last major writing I was able to make was at the changing of the guard from Spring to Summer... and the Summer found me flailing with no direction. Perhaps, I'm down; but I'm more wlecoming of the confort of the change as we pass from this summer--of which I need to be rid--in order to move forward.

The future is a well-worn notebook, yet blank with possibilities of what can be prescribed. Maybe the changing of the season is a time to mourn the losses and move on toward the possiblities. Maybe the eternal optimist in me refuses to see anything different.

Just. Maybe.

Kismet

It’s one of those days where I cannot make sense of the things I read. A forward with puppies and kittens and god saving me… we’ve been there, folks. Whitney filing for divorce from Bobby… ah, kids, you may not be familiar—they are the Nick and Jessica from YEARS ago, before marriage ruined their careers and drugs ruined their marriage. Ann Richards passed, which I some what guilty about citing after Whitney and Bobby, but Ann was a pretty bombastic woman, one of the reasons I liked her, she’d appreciate the irony, perhaps.

Normally, on forwarded emails, unless they are from people who do not normally forward me a bunch of things, I delete without opening… for some reason, probably when I caught sight of the ACLU, I decided to open and read the email indicating that the ACLU is trying to mandate that “Christmas” not be used in the holiday season. I.e. “holiday tree” “holiday season”. The email was requesting that everyone send a “Christmas card” with a “Christian” message to overwhelm the office and “freeze” operations. This is, of course, a false allegation that the ACLU is somehow trying to sabotage Christmas… but, you know, the Christian thing to do is to try and freeze up the operations of an organization which dedicates itself to protect your right to try and sabotage them in the name of your religious beliefs.

Cliches and bad metaphors.

There is that old saying that if you haven't anything good to say, then don't say anything... and it seems all well and fine, I suppose, though it has never really stopped me. Sometimes freedom of speech means you are not polite.

I don't know where that came from, really, but twice in the last week I've heard people tell me, or reference that saying when what I've said wasn't nice. Newsflash--I'm not a nice person all the time. I don't know anyone who is when it comes right down to it.

So anyway, I don't have much to say generally today. It is a rainy, cold, dreary day in September. I'm low on sleep and lacking any enthusiasm for much as a result. I feel trapped in the haze of moving where everything that can possibly be done up until this point, has, in fact, been done. There will be more to do suddenly and then in a rush and flurry of cardboard and packing tape, it will happen.

I can say with sertainty, that a much as I cherish my time now, October is looking like a shiny rescue boat... in the meantime, I'm bailing water waiting for the shore.

Sunday Morning Purrr-fection

It may not be the my ideal Sunday morning, but it is a rather enjoyable Sunday morning nonetheless; listeing to Alicia Keys, updating my SparkPeople page, drinking a soy chai for breakfast and having Vinnie lying next to me purring like crazy. The calm before the storm no doubt.

Earlier, I heard the Insane Little Squirrel spitting and sputtering--turns out Jake was just sitting on the ledge of the patio, asleep. So, I collected Jake and brought the kitties all in--it is far too cold to have the door open this morning and I'm still shocked that there are golfers in their shorts out there... of course, they are all 50+ year old men, which means they probably think it is "just right" finally. I notice the women out there are in sweatshirts and long pants... proving, once again, we are the saner sex.

As for me, I, sadly, will be opting for shoes that are not sandals today. It is getting on that time. Not that I won't wear sandals in the fall or winter, just more reserved. Frost bite on the toes is not attractive.

Time to sign off for now and move on with my Sunday. There are chores and obligations and I want to reward myself for meeting my September goal by 25 percent so far and getting some new nail polish for my toes. They haven't been painted all week and are in dire need of something to brighten them.

Mahalo.

On Saggitarian...

My Centaur mocks me?

It's hard to say on a day when hope and faith in the universe don't seem to make sense, that my astrological calling heeds that I have a sense of clarity and purpose. Maybe I need to stop listening to Bruce Springsteen. All I know, is that if the cosmos are right, if I am indeed a wise prophet by the very virtue of my December birthdate in the right year under the right planetary conditions, perhaps the clouds are just that. After all, clouds are just heavy water.

Anyway, I have far too much on a to do list for today to spend a lot of time thinking about it... I will schedule that kind of contemplation for when I should be sleeping--after all, it is best to schedule it now rather than just have it pop up on me unexpectedly when I was hoping to sleep. :)

Have a lovely Saturday.

Who. Are. You.

"And it's hard to say, who you are these days, but you run on anyway, don't you baby?"

That is a lyric from one of the songs from Tom Petty's newest album. The song, Saving Grace, though has been out since July, but as I'm sitting here in the coffee house, it came on over the radio speakers... and it caught me, because usually I only hear it on my iPod.

On a bored Friday night, when my thoughts are not to be contained and my state of tedium is beyond my own comprehension, I have to wonder and think... what defines me? Because when you are bored out of your mind and endlessly frustrated with so many things it isn't fair to list them, it leads, at least me, to think about that question.

Certainly, we are defined externally, by such an assortment of factors that it is nearly impossible to comprehend: what we do, what we wear, what we eat, how we eat, what we read, the places we go, the movies we see... it goes on and on. BUT, what I'm pondering tonight, it the internal definitions. How do we, as the thoughts we contain, define ourselves? And do our internal definitions match our external selves? Do we want them to? And, if we do want them to, how do we get there?

I don't profess to have the answer, I've recently only come to terms with a different internal definition of who I am than what I had thought. The plans I had made, the vision I had for myself, the things I wanted to achieve and accomplish and do have so drastically changed in the last 2 years that somedays it is a struggle to get to sleep trying to comprehend it all. And so I wonder it, tonight, on a very generic forum; careful, as usual, to not divulge that internal definition.

It may seem slightly silly, but a question that started me down this thought train tonight, which is quite unrelated was put to me as follows today: How many pair of shoes would your dream man have?

I said it was silly, but it made me think. I had not ever thought of my "dream man" and his affinity for shoes. I answered the question, for those now wondering, that I felt it would be most beneficial if my "dream guy" were a designer and noted that as much as I loved Manolo's I was afraid Mr. Blahnik was not my type after it was suggested I look in Italy. Though I do lust after Calvin Klein....but really, who doesn't??

Omnious questions and thoughts on a Friday night in downtown Ann Arbor watching every form of student pass by my window seat. I think it is time to pack it up for the evening, go home to a nice, long hot shower, and wash the day away. As is always the case, the questions will linger, but maybe that isn't a bad thing, just maybe it is what defines me.

Mahalo.

Bring on the fake blood

While I was bemoaning the end of August, layering up in clothes to fend off the sudden chill in the air and getting out the flashlight since it is getting darker sooner... I was reminded of something utterly spectacular about this time of year while in Kroger on Tuesday. Halloween.

It is one of my favorite holidays, and in fact, the only time of the year an adult can get away with such costumes outside the privacy of their own bedroom, but I digress. The thrill of Halloween has not escaped me. Even though I have some very clouded and sad memories surrounding the holiday... but come up with a holiday not plagued by something negative? Halloween is pure hedonism, it is a sugar rush with no sugar really necessary. Last year, I stretched it into two weeks of parties and fun, and I wonder, with child-like anticipation, what this year will bring. Tricks? Treats? A little of both?

Either way, the excitement of the aisles coming to life with ghosts, pumpkins, pirates and bats has brightened an otherwise dim mood and got this witch thinking about what the cauldrin cooks...

Forbes, you too?

Apparently, my standards to make the Forbes 100 Most Powerful Women's list are too high. I don't have any 'Z' in my name, I have not allowed Dubya to massage me, nor have I massaged Dubya, and well, I don't drink Pepsi.

Of the top four, one is German, one is Chinese and one is a Pepsico front runner... the other is Condoleeeeeeezzzzzzza Rice. It is all highly suspect and if I truly had time to spend concocting conspiracy theroy, I would think this was a clear sign of something... but I will leave that to the bored basement dwellers off their meds with intricate graphs and charts to explain.

Not that I am opposed to a good conspiracy theory, but we just haven't had one lately... which in and of itself, it highly suspect.

TomKat

I would be remiss if I did not make mention about the "unveiling" of the TomKat podling. Here's a thought--keep it veiled. If you have to put a toupee on a baby, the world isn't ready.

Nice try, too, Tom, by the way, while you are in a bit of a career plummet, to use the kid to salvage it... that is class all the way. Your dinners with Brit and K-Fed must be something... right out of an alient movie, no doubt.

Devils & Dust

I was listening to this Springsteen song tonight (Devils & Dust, that is). I know he wrote it after September 11, and while the lyrics ring of that day 5 years ago, I can't help but to think about where we are now, coming on the 5 year anniversary next week.

In typical U.S. style, we have commodified the tragedy and waged wars unspeakable. There were nearly 3000 deaths and presumed deaths on 9/11/01; there have been nearly that many dead "Americans" in Iraq since 2003... that doesn't include Iraqis and other forces. It also doesn't include those killed in Afghanistan (remember Afghanistan?).

We aren't much further away from Devils & Dust.

"And, tonight, faith just ain't enough..."

Fading Rainbows

As I was in my car this afternoon, headed to the dry cleaners--a chore I despise, especially at 5 p.m.--there it was, a rainbow so big and so bright I could see all the colors in the arc. In fact, the arc was a full one as well. As I sat through my third stint at the same red light, I watched it fade as the rain slowly stopped.

A thought occurred to me, one by which I have guided my own life at times: Never question a rainbow.

You may curse the rain that causes you to sit for three rounds of a light, but without the rain, there is no color and without the annoying light, how can you watch it as it fades into brilliant sky?

On a Very Personal Note...

Last week was a challenge for me. I reached my emotional threshold, which does not happen often as I almost always find the time I need for myself at least weekly. But, as life happens, the last few weeks have not found any personal me time. This weekend has been a time of reflection while working through the difficulties in a very physical way.

A little background... in April, I decided things in my life had to change. As part of this I decided it was time again to focus keenly on achieving my physical fitness goals. Fortuantely for me, when I'm under a lot of stress, and am dealing with some personal issues, I find a huge solace in working it through in a very physical means.

At first, I was walking nearly 10 miles a day, but it wasn't enough, so I added intensity to the walking. Soon, though, walking wasn't as cathartic as it had always been, and I started adding the elliptical to the routine. I did cut back on some of the walking, bringing it back to 3-5 miles a day.

An hour on the elliptical began to be not enough, and I added the stationary bike to the mix for fun. Here it is September, and as I think about my personal goal for the week, I just let the group I converse with on these weekly goals know that I am wanting to add intensity to my workout and increase my strength training. Of course, that said, and those who know me, know that I'm a highly competitive person--especially with myself. Case-in-point, yesterday on the bike, I felt the need to best my last round. Last session I had done 13.3 mph, so this time I had to do better. And I did, I did 13.9mph... and as great as that might be, I got off the bike thinking, if I had worked just a little harder, I'd have hit 14mph. Ahh, next time.

Maybe the problems will never be resolved as I run like a hampster in the wheel on an elliptical, but I gain some clarity by the end, and here it is September, and I'm over half-way to my weight loss goal that I set in April, I'm eating healthier and generally much more physically healthier. And somehow, in some weird and bizarre way, while I don't feel that I'm any closer to figuring things out the things in my head, I do feel that I'm also a lot more mentally healthy than I've been in a very long time.

Flasdance, again

At the library this week, I saw Flashdance sitting on the shelf… so I checked it out. It has been years since I have seen this movie, and quite honestly, I have seen it well over a hundred times. Why, you might righteously ask? Because we owned the movie when I was a kid; and it was one of two movies we did own… the other being Lady Sings the Blues—and as much as I love Billie Holiday now, it was not something I could truly appreciate at 10(ish). Besides, Flashdance was my brothers favorite movie, and we had to watch it daily so he could dance all the routines with the movie. He also knew Saturday Night Fever and Stayin’ Alive, too… but hey, I knew all the soundtracks and could sign along and knew every line Sandy had in Grease, so it’s all good.

Digression? I’m writing a blog about Flashdance—I don’t think there is much more of a digression than that! You’re probably all be wishing I had more to say about K-Fed tonight than learning the scary truth that not only did I worship Olivia Newton-John, I recently downloaded her greatest hits to my iPod… Hey, my childhood was not all Wonder Woman Underoos, folks!

So, Flashdance. At once time, I thought this was a fine piece of cinema. I was heartbroken to learn that whatshername didn’t do her dancing and had a body double. As an adult, it is obvious when you see full body shots, because the wig is terrible, and not always staying on too well; especially in that last dance scene where she’s auditioning. I should ask my mom if that was so noticeable when it first came out. Maybe things like that take a critical eye, and 500 viewings?

The movie, still, is quite fun and provides a lesson we should all remember—it doesn’t matter what your dream is, so long as its pursuit is what makes you happy… and if along the way, you get a rich boyfriend to call his buddies on the art council, all the better. Do I believe neighborhood kid did good and now is the owner of a large construction company—yes… do I believe he has high powered friends on the Art Council? Not really; which is why the writers give him a snobby ex-wife. Still—there is nothing like a far-fetched, theme-worn movie on a Thursday night to not only provide some entertainment while wrapping a birthday present and writing a proposal, but to make you feel old. Yeah, this movie is over 20 years old, and that makes me…. Finished with this entry.

Good night!