In Which I Fail But Refuse To Worry Much

Ok - NaBlo is a flat out bust for me. I don't think I've hit the every other day mark, much less the every day mark. Bug turned 18 - EIGHTEEN - on Friday. Saturday I spent quilting - having borrowed a machine from a friend. Saturday night Ninja Princessa and I went to see High School Musical 3. Sunday I embellished a quilt journal page while I watched football. It was a FABULOUS day in football land. Yay for my Titans! Undefeated! Bet's Dolphins won; our Colts won and even though the Redskins lost to the Cowboys last night - I'm still coasting on some serious pigskin induced happiness. I'll try to post pictures tomorrow (of the birthday party and quilting - not so much of the football.) :D Peace.

Shunnnn The Non Believer

The phrase "It's a magical liopleurodon" cracks me up every, single, freaking time. Other things guaranteed to make me laugh without fail: MC Hammer's pants and Basil, Neville, and Yorick. I can hear the kids laughing in the other room as they watch This Is Spinal Tap (for the second time today.) We have been laughing together a lot recently - mashing together our own running gags from the comedy we've seen as a family. No doubt we are incomprehensible to outsiders but man, I love hanging out with our crew. Hope everyone's having a good weekend. Peace.

Stragglers

Thank you for the comments, emails. I haven't decided quite what I'll do but for now I think I'll keep posting more or less the way I have been. (Let's hope for the more because I've gotten pretty good at the less and it's not as much fun, now is it?)

I realized I was behind on promised pictures! As usual they are clickable if you want to see them larger. Here is Tallulah Rockstar - the crazy conehead - giving me a mournful look. (I particularly like the "You are my sunshine" pillow next to her that I didn't notice when i was taking the picture.) When Wasabi had to wear a cone it paralyzed him. If the edge of the cone touched anything - he FROZE. I would find him standing stock still and have to coax him to move again. Tallulah? The vet told us to try to keep her quiet for the first few days. I raised my eyebrow at him, we both looked at her, and he said, "Good luck with that." She proceeded to smash, crash, and bash her way through the next two weeks. The cone was in sorry, sorry shape by the time she FINALLY got to take it off.
In case you think that Chaos, being nearly 16, might have grown out of his Calvin phase...think again. Here is a picture of Chaos, Mayhem, Uncle Richard, Linus, Bug, The Ninja Princessa, and Havoc. We miss you Uncle Richard!!!

I guess the Calvin look is better than the I'm-practicing-for-my-mug-shot look:
The one where Chaos is sort of smiling? Mayhem is being silly (and Tallulah has snuck into the photo.) This is why God invented Photoshop I suppose.
And finally we come to fun and games with sharp objects. Linus would like you to think he was grievously wounded while defending my honor. In truth, he lost a fight with a box cutter while doing something involving servers at work. He managed to miss all tendons and major blood vessels - thankfully. I should have taken some pictures when it had all those blue stitches in it.
Then I could have framed it next to this picture and had a matched set. Bet sliced her leg open in two places while building our glass block wall this morning. Warning: do not step over razor sharp spikes of metal embedded in a half built wall.
I've told them both that in this circumstance three is not a charm. No stitches for Lilymane. No. No. No. So, how's your weekend going?

Loser

After fluctuating up and down the scale over the same three pounds for six months, this week I've lost four actual pounds. Starting from the lowest point of the previous six months. Which means that I am lighter today - by seven pounds - than I was in August. Which is a good thing.

I mean, I am in fact trying to lose weight. I have eaten extremely good foods this week - if not quite as much of them as I should have. I have exercised every day except Friday - which was a planned rest day. I haven't slept particularly well because of the court stuff, the tv stuff, etc - and it makes sense that being awake burns up more calories than being asleep does.

I put this out there because I have to be able to talk about it. Losing weight is fraught, absolutely fraught I tell you, with crazy-ass internal messages. I yearn to be slim and healthy yet when I start making measurable progress in that direction, I freak-the-fuck out. My head churns out worries like, "What if I keep losing at this rate? That's not healthy!" but then, "What if I don't lose another pound? What if after all this work, I stall here?" And, "What if I start gaining it back?!" Then deserve factor has to be regulated: I waffle between giving myself pep talks saying I deserve to be slim, healthy, and strong to having deflate my own entitlement bubble (I've been good - I am entitled to gorge on Capt D's and cake!)

Nice and steady, step by step. A little progress here, a little there - forward and sometimes a bit back or off target - it's all just right. Magic happens. So, stop freaking out already! (<---Addressed to my monkey mind, not yours. Unless you need to hear it, of course.)
Peace.

Here A Post, There A Post

Well I'm clearly not back in the posting routine. I've also been a little quiet because I haven't wanted to whine about Tapioca. It's left me with a bare few things to post.
Training? Going well in that it is going. Did I mention I'm not drinking soda or alcohol until after the race in September? It's a good move, but hard going sometimes.
Kids? They're awesome. Really great in fact. I love having a few weekends with them!
Football? Fantastic! The two games yesterday were some of the best football I've seen! (It helped that both the teams I was rooting for won! Sorry Uncouth Heathen.) The teams lay it on the line: hard hits, make or break improv on busted plays, and brilliant play calling. It's amazing to watch athletes totally screw up and have to come back from it. Ryan Grant turned the ball over TWICE in the first few minutes - and Seattle scored on his mistake both times, putting the Packers down 14 points. He came back from that and played exceptionally - scoring two touchdowns with over 200 yards rushing! I think about that kind of effort when I'm out running and I do something stupid (like trip over my shoelaces). Now if my Colts will just play well enough today to shut Shawne Merriman up. (I hate that he's a fellow Terp. His big mouth and foul attitude bug me. LT I like and I'm so sorry about Antonio Gates' injury - but Shawne Merriman needs to keep his big mouth closed.) And I'm sure you don't want to hear me whine about how icky it is to have to root for the Giants (whom I dislike) over the Cowboys (whom I despise) - but that's also part of the play off energy. Sometimes you get left with picking the lesser of two evils! Next topic!
Dogs? Oh my word, Tallulah Rockstar is almost as big as Wasabi!

Tomorrow I'll try to be interesting. I'll post pictures of the pups, tell about listening to my children's music with them (warning the word "deth" is involved), and possibly even get you to angst with me over an upcoming interview I have. Right now, though, it's time for football! Peace.

First Saturday In December

And you know what that means!! Go Navy!!!

Who Wears The Skirt In This Family

Bet lost a bet and had to wear a skirt and heels to school. That may or may not seem like a big deal to you, but I assure you it was a BIG deal to her. They were having contests between the homeroom classes. Bet was sure her homeroom would win and force the other teacher (a die hard Tarheel) to wear Duke gear for the day. Alas, her kids let her down and she had to raid my closet. The reason this was photoworthy to me is that I've known Bet for 16 years and I'd never seen her in a skirt or dress before. It is not her thing. At all. To my knowledge, the only other time she's worn a skirt was to a beloved Div school professor's son's bar mitzvah at an Orthodox temple. Ten years ago. Since it might not (probably won't) happen again, I had to get a picture. And share. :D

Bet was a good sport. If she was uncomfortable, she didn't let it show. She modeled her "big girl shoes" for her colleagues who came by in flocks to peek into her classroom window. She fended off comments like, "But you look so good! You should wear skirts and heels more often," without growling. But I bet she'll never wager on her homeroom again.
Peace.

Serious Tool User

Find more photos like this on NaBloPoMo


I took a bunch of new photos today to post to NaBlo and they made a little slideshow for me. Isn't this cool? I'm going to make an actual Who's Who post with static pictures sometime soon. The 100 Things post is two years old and needs updating. I think a visual guide would be fun. So consider this a preview.

In other news:
The Bat Mitzvah was incredible. Anna has a beautiful voice. She's been studying and training one on one with a woman from her synagogue specifically for this day since she was in the third grade. Her Torah portion was exquisite. Her smile as she sang the last few bars was radiant. I could tell her mother was tickled pink. It was a wonderful service, very inclusive. The only hitch came when they processed the Torah and started on the side of the room that had no idea what to do. Even that was ok, though. The sanctuary (temple?) was architecturally stunning. Beautiful woods, the Ark made from gorgeous lapis tiles, soaring beamed ceiling with windows up high letting lots and lots of light in. It was spacious and intimate at the same time. What a beautiful place to worship. I love sacred spaces. The reception afterwards had yummy food and great conversations with other parents. It was a lovely experience.
Peace.

The Saturday Morning Post

Thank you for the support about the teacher. I can't get Havoc out of that classroom, but I have decided to go talk to the principal. I have also decided to talk to Havoc very frankly about this situation. He LOVES school. He is a pleaser. I want him to know that he does have to figure out how to live by this teacher's rules and function in her classroom. That's an important skill even in (or maybe especially in) a situation where there is a personality conflict. However, I need my kid to know that I have issues with his teacher. I don't want him internalizing something she says (like "Havoc, you are just not creative.") It's the same way I am with my kids about music and tv and books that express a value or opinion that I either don't share or that I'm totally against. I don't forbid (most of the time) but I do make them talk to me about what they understood and what they think and I let them know where I stand and why. I can't figure out anything else at this stage - but I very much appreciate your comments!

In other news, we are off to a bat mitzvah. I've never been to one and I'm really looking forward to it. The Ninja Princessa's friends are incredible. They read and study together. They have been asked out by boys but they've decided they'd rather be friends with boys right now. (And they mean that. The Princessa stayed good friends with a boy she had a crush on and who asked her out. He totally understood her. She even thinks he's more comfortable with her now than before.**) The girls are organizing a bake sale to raise money for mistreated animals. The Princessa openly wears her pentacle and there is no issue. They talk to each other about their beliefs and experiences and affirm each other even though they are very different. It is SUCH a change! The girls from last year (with few exceptions) were boy crazy, materialistic, righteous and preachy, exclusive and bratty. Their entire repertoire was shopping for slutty clothes, gossiping about what a bitch some other girl was, sniping about whose church was better, and whining to/about their parents. I was tempted to think at first that The Princessa lucked out with her closest friends here, but even her casual friends seem like intelligent, sweet, and quirky girls! I am so willing to help the Princessa invest in these friendships. Not only are the girls great, but I've enjoyed all of their parents! (Well, duh. With just a tiny bit more thought, I suppose that's not so surprising.) I'm truly looking forward to the bat mitzvah. The only thing that has me the least bit trepidatious is that I don't know what to expect from the ceremony itself. I'd hate to make a fool of myself. Surely they'll have some way of guiding visitors through the appropriate protocols, right? Hanukkah and Passover Seder are both full of instructions and easy to be a part of (sing this, repeat that, and best of all - eat this!) I think we'll be ok. We care, we're respectful. Really we'll be ok. I'll stop worrying. Any minute now.
Peace.
**In a weird twist, it turns out that we were already friends with this boy's moms. Bet taught the boy's older sibs but since she's not teaching him we didn't put it together. At the housewarming party the Ninja Princessa eeked at me, "That's HIS mom! That's HIS mom!" I guess the Princessa's still a little crushy. The inadvertent shrieking up there in those bat frequencies gave it away. She may not be as calm and cool about this boy as she'd like to be, but I'm ok with her wanting to go slowly. Linus would like her to go even more slowly. In fact, he'd like her to move so slowly as to have all motion in the dating direction imperceptible to the naked eye. Scratch that! He doesn't want the word naked coming anywhere close to his daughter. Poor dad. Being realistic, I think we've got a few short months before the boy friends start becoming boyfriends. Still, the Princessa could do worse than this boy. He's kind, very goofy, and has nice mamas. But Linus can rest easy for at least one more night because this boy won't be at the bat mitzvah. Anna's mother told her she could invite boys and she said, "Eew. Why?" LOVE these girls.

Tri Fever

My studio is packed up. My books are packed up. My bike is packed (and shipped!) to NC already. Pretty much all I have left are my running shoes. Pretty much that's all you need to run. But did I run this morning? Noooooo. And why not? Because I didn't feel like it. And now that I do feel like it, it's raining. Yay for the rain. We needed it! Sad for me not to have run this morning when I had the chance.

In spite of not running, I haven't been completely useless today. I got myself fired up about the triathlon again. I plan on being one of the first to register for next year's event! I also found a great online workout tracker. I'm a logbook junkie. I can't train without a good log to write it down in. This time I'm training with friends from all over though - so an online workout log is ideal. It is interesting to me that very few of the athletes use the blog feature of the online log.

I also found two quilt guilds - one in Raleigh and one in Durham. Even more exciting than that, I discovered many art quilters in the area. Of course my favorite art quilter EVER is Hollis Chatelain and she is only about 15 or 20 miles from me (as best I can read the map!) Surely at some point, I'll find a way to take a class from her. (Rapture!)

I Am A Sunflower (NOT)

I am a Sunflower What Flower Are You?

I took an online quiz to determine what kind of flower I am (do not ask me why - I don't know) and this is what it came up with: a sunflower. Bleck. Sunflowers are boring. I'm not so fond of yellow to begin with. Add to that the fact that real sunflowers grow taller than I've managed to and then end up bent over and sad looking - and you can see why I don't like them. They are FAR from one of my favorite flowers. They make me think of cheap, overly-coordinated kitchens - rooster themes, country apple motifs, cheery sunflowers. Bleck, bleck, bleck. I tried changing some of my answers - which my buddy Duncan (AKA Unky Dunky to my kids) says is cheating. Who cares?! I don't want to be a sunflower! I challenged Dunk to take the quiz and find out what kind of flower HE is but he declined. However he informed me that he had just taken an online quiz to determine whether he'd survive a zombie apocalypse. He rated as a Zombie Slayer. Considering I don't even know what a zombie apocalypse would entail - I think I'd probably be the equivalent of a sunflower on that quiz to. Stupid quizzes.

Something You May Not (Want To) Know About Me

Step dancing knocks me out. I absolutely love it. I went to my first step show at the U of MD in the '80's and it totally blew me out of the water. I'd never seen anything like it. Well - I guess that's not entirely true. I'd seen black marching bands. (Something you may not (want to) know about my mother is that she got a scholarship to go back and finish college when I was in grade school. The school that offered her a scholarship was a predominantly black state school and they had a FANTASTIC band.) But in a band the steps are to showcase the music being played. In a step show the steps showcase the line, the bond of the fraternity brothers/sorority sisters, and they showcase the steps themselves. I never wanted to be part of the white greek system the way I wanted to be a part of the black greek system. Ignore (completely) for the moment that I am one of the palest and most arrhythmic white girls you've ever seen - there was something that called to me at that first step show. The percussive steps, the syncopated stomping, the precise angles of shoulders, necks, heads and hand movements - every bit of it amazed me. The exact and coordinated appearance of those on line, the explosive pride on display, and the unruly appreciation of the audience at the show all spoke to the kind of solidarity I desperately wanted to be a part of in college.

I've seen shows that have some of those elements: percussion, showmanship, mind-bogglingly uniform athleticism. Stomp. Riverdance. Whatever those huge Japanese drums are called. I love (Love, LOVE) stuff like that - but none of it reaches into my being the way step shows do. On the flip side, I've seen things that unexpectedly repulse me. Example: Krumping. For the love of God I do not understand Krumping! Given my bizarre attraction to stepping you'd think I'd have at least some appreciation for it - but no. None. Maybe it's the clown thing? Maybe it's that it's too much like professional wrestling for me? Maybe it's that I can't think of a less euphonious word than "krumping"? I have no good explanation for my lack of krumping affinity. All I can say is that I yearn to be in a step show the way I could never, ever - for love or money - want to be a krumper.

Impossible yearning and inexplicable repulsions aside - I'm not exactly hooked into the step show circuit. I haven't gotten to see one in years. But tonight I got to watch Stomp the Yard (on DVD because I missed seeing it in the theater a few months ago by ONE day!) Ignoring the mistake I made in renting it instead of buying it (why, why, why? I KNEW I was going to want to own it!) it was perfect watching it at home. I watched the whole thing through. Then I watched the extra features. Then the step scenes again. And then again. It was not a complex plot (by any stretch) but it was extremely well acted for a dance vehicle. It was believable in all the story ways it should be and it was unexpectedly authentic in the dance-story elements. And the stepping was abso-fucking-lutely brilliant. If you have any, even the slightest, interest in stepping you must go watch this movie. Like now.
(I mean it. You must. Now.)
Peace.

I Heart My Power Washer

I washed most of the roof with the power washer yesterday. VBGF did the courtyard and the side of the house and the windows. (Sweet Hubby was weed eating the gimongous hill we have. Poor guy - we hogged all the pressure washing fun!) The only reason I stopped cleaning the roof was because it was 8:15 p.m. and almost completely dark. I had grand visions of pressuring washing again this morning bright and early. The only obstacle? My right hand is curled into a claw hand - a sore claw hand. To the point that I dreamed (and this won't make any sense to non-Harry Potter fans) that I went to pick VBGF from the Dursleys with my hand all twisted up and blackened. I magicked up everyone a few drinks which they refused to drink so the glasses hovered in the air and clonked them in the head trying to get their attention. VBGF howled with laughter at the Dursleys getting knocked about the head by glassware and was finally ready to leave. My hand was still shriveled. THAT'S how sore my hand is today.

Peace.

Stellar

I went to pick up my best girl at the airport on Friday night and while waiting, guess who I saw? A famous blogger!!!!! She's been training for a marathon - a real one - like TWICE what I did. She's been so inspirational to me as I try to get back to my training. She has kids - a son about the same age as my Mayhem and a toddler. She writes; she's plugged into pop culture - I have no idea how she does it all. And I saw her in real life! I immediately wanted to say hi - and then I panicked. Is it ok to say hi because you recognize someone from the computer? Is that considered stalking? Would it freak me out if someone did it to me? (Well, yes, probably - but I'm easily freaked out. I squealed the first time my IM pinged even though I knew it was someone I knew.) I sat and thought about it for a few minutes. Is there a class on this somewhere? Blogging Ethics 101? I had to figure it out on the fly.

No one would want to be tracked down by what they've said, but being recognized isn't at all the same thing, is it? She'd told the world she'd be in Nashville for the race and it's definitely part of the ethos of the Country Music Marathon that strangers are rooting for you. If you have your name on your shirt, people you do not know will call out your name. Even if you don't have your name visible anywhere, people will yell out "Good Luck" as you pass. I was just a day early. I decided I'd regret it if I didn't say hello, wish her luck in the race, and tell her I loved her blog. I was halfway across the space between us before I realized she might not actually be who I thought she was! Too late - she and her son and her dad (I assumed) were looking at me. I said I was sorry to interrupt and just barge over - and it might be a weird question - but did she, by chance, blog. She smiled and said yes. I asked, "Miss Zoot?" and she nodded. I think I gushed a bit then - and told her I wished her the very best luck in the race and I knew she'd do well and then I scurried away forgetting to tell her how much I liked her blog as a whole. Oh well. Probably better to have said too little than too much, eh? When VBGF got off the plane, we passed Miss Zoot and I waved and smiled. She smiled back at us - so I knew it was really ok to have said hi. ***And? Miss Zoot finished her marathon yesterday! What an accomplishment - do you realize how freakin' long 26.2 miles is??? Yay Zoot!***

And then I saw another star! The reason VBGF flew in was to see Loreena McKennit at the Ryman Auditorium. If you have not been to the Ryman, then you cannot believe what you are missing. It is such an intimate venue - with history that just soaks into you as you sit on the church pew seats. It was perfect for Loreena McKennit's music. Her voice was powerful and rich, ethereal and electric. Her presence was inviting and overwhelming at the same time. It is without a doubt the most amazing concert I have ever seen. (<--And that is saying a lot because I have seen Etta James and Celine Dion recently.) Loreena McKennit is an amazing woman. I think she won my heart when I found out years ago that she keeps her journals in both French and English and that she travels around the world for her musical inspiration. She spoke about her creative process for a few of the songs she played. It was mesmerizing. She infuses her music with an appreciation of the cultures she's studied; she has a genuine respect for the musicians that surround her; and she has a way of inviting her audience into her musical process and performance. There are instruments in her show that I have not only never seen (like the Hurdy-Gurdy), but there were some that I have never even heard of. Do you know what an "Oud" is? Or a "Celtic Bouzouki"? Then there is her voice. Her awe-inspiring voice. The range and depth of her voice are simply astounding. I kept having to remind myself that all of that haunting, soul-grabbing sound was pouring out of a live woman right in front of me. I very nearly chucked everything to become a Loreena McKennit groupie right then and there.

We were not prepared for the night to be over - even after the third encore. The Ryman security folks finally shooed us out. We wandered back to the car and ended up driving to East Nashville to sit in a smoky bar and hear some more live music. I think we finally got home around 2. (Sweet Hubby was still up playing his PS3 to de-stress from the job search.) We talked and then had to shower to get all the icky smoke off of us. I think I finally fell asleep around 4. I meant to blog all this last night, but I fell asleep at 6 pm and slept for 13 hours!!!! I am SUCH a party animal. I stay out late one night and have to pay for it immediately. Oh well. It was beyond "worth it" and I'd do it again in a heartbeat. Hope everyone else had a great weekend!
Peace.