the day after "the hike that never ended" and "attack of the wild javelinas" was a lovely one. it was another cool and crisp start to a lovely day, and since we had showered the night before, we were in fairly good moods. all i can say is that dr. bonner's magic soap is one of the things for which i am most grateful in my life. it makes you feel minty fresh for hours. that and johnson's baby powder. sorry, i got sidetracked.
derkirita made breakfast couscous, which was brown-sugary good with cranberries. yum. during breakfast (we got the coffee pot fixed before we actually made the coffee, this time, so no burns this morning) dungeon master came over to chat with us about the previous night's excitement. it was then that he got his name, because up until then, he'd just been "nice stepdad with cute wife and stepkid". this guy was so full of crap, i'm surprised a little didn't drip out of the corner of his mouth everytime he spoke. seriously. here's how the story went down:
kk: so, how much stuff did you guys loose last night? was everyone ok?
dungeon master: oh, we lost some lunch meat, and the little bastards ate our ham. (i'm thinking this is highly ironic until later in the day when i find out that javelina aren't even related to pigs...) ***This is the good part** i hit the big one on the head with my mag light. (oh right, like he would still have a freaking arm...), and i was going to pick up one of the little ones and throw it in the creek, but i was trying to pick the cooler up at the same time. (uh huh, i bet...). blah blah blah...i've been around wild animals my whole life. i used to run a rescue farm for stuff. we've raised xyz such animals...
r: oh wow, that's cool.
dungeon master: more bullsh*t for about 5 more minutes, after which he gave us his left over firewood. yay.
then he left. kk gave me crap for encouraging the dungeon master. and when he said that he and the fam were going to be on vacation for two more weeks, i politely said " hey, take us with you" and we all laughed. kk was not amused by the idea of being with dungeon master for any more than the 15 minutes it took us to pack our stuff to go to balmoreah. kk decided to call him the dungeon master after the extensive lecture he gave us on wild animal husbandry. the name really stuck when he started an impromptu digeree (sp?) dou jam session with his kid, who looked like dewey from "malcolm in the middle". kk said he looked like the kind of guy who would have his dungeons and dragons set with him on vacation, and would insist on being the dungeon master anytime he played. derkirita and i concurred.
we got packed up for our outing that day, and headed to balmoreah state park, site of the world's largest outdoor spring-fed swimming pool. it was beautiful, cold, and full of fish. it was amazing to be in the middle of the desert and just have this actual oasis open right up in the middle of it all. derkirita said being there made her feel like she was in some foreign country. we ate trail mix, people watched, swam and sunbathed. we saw a cute little family playing in the pool. little did we know, that cute fam would stalk us for the rest of the trip. or if they weren't stalking us, they sure showed up every where else we went for the entire week. i don't think they are actually in my apartment at the moment, but i haven't put all my laundry away, yet...
the clouds started moving in from the west at a pretty fast clip, and it started to thunder and lightening, so we got out of the pool like the smart kids we are. we had lunch under a little pavilion and watched it rain. and then we watched it hail. and hail. and rain. and hail a little more. we packed up, bought our park patches, and drove back to the fort with the slightly sulfur smell of san Solomon springs in our hair. it was lovely and we made a plan to come back there on our way back to austin.
at the fort, we changed clothes (we felt clean enough, since we swam) and set our plans for the evening activities--dinner at the historic el paisano hotel and viewing of the marfa mystery lights.
as an aside, i should tell you that derkirita planned this whole trip into the west. and i should also tell you that she was partly inspired by an episode of "king of the hill", where in bobby gets to see the marfa lights. this is partially what caused kk's inner monologue voice to be bobby hill for the duration of the trip, that and the fact that i can apparently do a wicked bobby impression and kept talking in that voice for large periods of time.
the hotel paisano (which you can read about here:http://www.hotelpaisano.com/ ) was where elizabeth taylor and rock hudson, et. al. stayed during the filming of the epic "Giant". the movie itself was filmed outside of marfa, on the mitchell plateau. they have a lot of memorabilia from the movie in the hotel, and a cute little restaurant. dinner was good, and many thanks go to kk for footing the bill. our waiter was this little nervous guy named "shin-knee" at least, that's how he pronounced it, and pointed to the corresponding body parts to reinforce said pronunciation. he also had on a lot of cologne. but he was mostly cute and did a pretty good job waiting on the three of us. should you visit jett's grill at the hotel, i can recommend one or two items. the crusted steak was excellent, the garlic potatoes were nice, if a little on the cold side, and the chocolate creme brulee was superlative. seriously. it was better than a big wet smooch.
ok, it was a close second.
and then, we went to see the eeriest thing i have ever personally witnessed in all my 26 years of life. we got to the marfa mystery lights viewing area about an hour before dusk, since dusk is supposed to be the prime viewing time for the lights. we were accosted (ok, just sort of talked to) by a bizarre lady in a blue miata, who kept looking into the south, and telling us to "look beyond and then look beyond the beyond..." in some kind of weird shamanic voice that evoked thoughts of unfiltered cigarettes and jars of homebrew. it was sort of neat, i think. she said that she came to texas because she hated tennesee. she said that when she died, she didn't want to go to heaven, she wanted to go to texas. and that marfa seemed like as good a place to die as anywhere else. like i said, it was a weird experience the whole way around. but the blue miata lady was a good set up for what i found (or rather didn't find) in the bathroom.
now, people who know me know how much i love bathrooms, and it's not because i particularly like them just because. no, i love them because i'm in them all the time. while i usually prefer function over form, i must say that the marfa mystery lights view area bathroom was a pleasure to experience from all facets. it was a recycling toilet. i don't want to know into what my or your or anyone else's waste was being recycled, but it was amazing. not only was there no water (which freaked me out at first), there was NO SMELL. it was incredible. and there was a nice, slightly disconcerting breeze coming from under the seat. i liked it so much, i took pictures of the bathroom. i'll post them with the others...but that's another bunny trail...
the marfa mystery lights were first seen and reported by anglos in the late 1800's. but the native americans who lived in that part of texas had stories about them going back for hundreds of years. no one has figured out what causes them, but theories abound. you can google "marfa mystery lights" and see some of the theories for yourself, if you'd like.
all i can tell you is that there is something out there, and i've never seen anything quite like what i saw that night, and while i wasn't afraid of what i saw, it certainly left me feeling a little uneasy, but glad, too, because it's nice to sometimes be reminded that some things in this life just defy explanation. it was beautiful and bizarre.
on the way back to the fort, we discovered that there are no working atm's in the tri-county area. we also discovered that we could pick up radio stations in los angeles, shreveport, dallas, san antonio, and other places that didn't speak english. it was very exciting. i kind of wanted to listen to creepy radio shows about aliens, but was still a little freaked out.
we made it home in one piece and slept a good long sleep, except that the javelinas made a return trip to eat our toothpaste spit. sick out.
i'll finish up our adventures and tell you about the family reunion tomorrow.
mil besos--r
13 June 2005
there and back again...part two
day two of our excellent adventure dawned clear and bright and a little on the chilly side. it was a wonderful thing to wake up on june 4th in a thermal shirt. we decided to take a hike after breakfast, which was wonderful. derkirita made breakfast tacos, and after several burned fingers trying to tighten up the french press, we had some cowboy coffee, too. we lazed around the campsite and took care of our morning stuff in a very leisurely fashion, so we didn't get started on our hike until 11.
we lubed ourselves up with spf 15, packed up our day pack with dried fruit, extra water, and a train map, and headed off to where we started "the hike that never ended". oh it was a glorious hike through the davis mountains, on a poorly marked trail, uphill, downhill, across the hill, you name it, we hiked it. and just when we thought we had a) reached the prettiest view yet, or b) finally reached the end of the trail, we were proved wrong. we saw about 10 different kinds of yucca plant--flowering, non-flowering, fruit-bearing, non-fruit-bearing, etc. we saw birds and lizards, lots of mesquite trees, about 10 million ocotillo cacti (i'll post a picture of those with my picture post) with beautiful purple flowers. derkirita loves the ocotillo. i mostly think she just likes the way it sounds when you say it.
we hiked for a while, and stopped to rest and snack on the dried fruit and reapply sunblock. we hiked up the mountain some more. we figured we'd be home soon. wrong. we figured the shack with the antenna on top would have water faucets, since it was on the road and was by the park look out. so not the case, friends and neighbors, so not the case. it was about this time that i started to get a little panicky, since we had used up the extra water and were down to what was left in our bottles. luckily, and thank the baby jesus, we started down the mountain. after several sets of wickedly sharp switchbacks, we ended up at the interpretive center, scene of last night's lecture on medical practices in the 1890's. we were very happy. we drank a lot of water. we slept in the tent (for a little while), saved the mr. dungeon master's (more on him in a second..) lunch from getting washed away in the brief afternoon shower, and talked about how we so almost just died. we also contemplated writing a sharply worded letter to the park service regarding their trail markers and how much they suck.
that night, we made the camp dinner to end all camp dinners, because the sweet baby jesus knows the three of us could have eaten a horse each and still had room left for dessert. now, i need to preface this part of the story with a couple of facts. kk and derkirita are two of the finest cooks i know, hands down. talk about making silk purses out of sow's ears..those two could make dinner from just about anything, and make it taste so good you'd want to slap someone. seriously. you should also know that kk is a peeps fiend. you know peeps-- the marshmallow sugar coated bunnies and chicks that you get at easter? kk loves them--i mean loves them in a deep and profound way that she can't explain. it's almost spiritual. but i digress...
so we make hobo dinners that night. they were glorious. little foil packets of goodness, including ground beef, carrots, potatoes, onions, spices, and a splash or two of red wine from our secret stash. they were wonderful. derkirita knows how to plan a menu. and kk knows how to order up a wonderful dessert. i have to admit that i was skeptical of what is now being called "peeps brulee" since i have been a life-long staunch peep hater. i was wrong. peeps brulee, the brain child of kk, was amazing. thank the lord derkirita saved a package of chicks and a package of bunnies from easter. ( kk said they were just the right amount of stale) we roasted the peeps over the coals left from making our hobo dinners. they tasted almost exactly like creme brulee, and the three of us managed to get burns on at least one finger a piece in our excitement and readiness to cram that gooey marshmallowy sugary goodness down our throats. glorious. and we cleaned up and went to bed, where we slept peacefully until about 4 am.
let me back up to mr. dungeon master's picnic basket. dungeon master and his family set up camp next to us sometime while we were on "the hike that never ended". it was a very nice tent, and when kk dropped the picnic basket in there, she noted that instead of the hot camping guys i was hoping had camped next to us, a family was in residence. they came tramping back sometime during the dinner hour, and seemed like a happy little fam. dungeon master was very nice to his wife and his kid. we decided they were "good people".
ok, so sometime around 4am, we three were awakened by a string of obscenities the likes of which i had only read about. and there was a lot of snorting. and it smelled really bad. and there was a lot more swearing. a lot more. the dungeon master and his family had left their dry box and cooler out on their picnic table like a bunch of dumb rookies. a whole band of javelinas had smelled the goodies from their den on the creek bed, and decided that it was dinner time. so dungeon master is awakened by their snorting and rooting around and squeals of delight as they tip the cooler off the picnic table. those javelinas are smart critters. so dungeon master comes out of his tent with his mag-light, and in the shadows of our own mag-light and the derkirita's head lamp, it looks like all he came out with was his mag-light. and by that, i mean the man looked naked as a jay-bird. and it was kind of scary. we figured out that he was indeed clothed, but in the smallest pair of whitey-tighties G-d ever made. so dungeon master is swearing and screaming and waving his arms trying to chase the javelinas off, and finally he succeeds. we giggled for a while, until we realized that being awake for so long has made us need to water the trees. we then remember that javelinas aren't' particularly nice animals, and a smell outside seems to indicate that kk's skunk friend is in the area and isn't a javelina fan, either. we went to the bathroom anyway. the rest of the night was quite peaceful, if not smelly.
we lubed ourselves up with spf 15, packed up our day pack with dried fruit, extra water, and a train map, and headed off to where we started "the hike that never ended". oh it was a glorious hike through the davis mountains, on a poorly marked trail, uphill, downhill, across the hill, you name it, we hiked it. and just when we thought we had a) reached the prettiest view yet, or b) finally reached the end of the trail, we were proved wrong. we saw about 10 different kinds of yucca plant--flowering, non-flowering, fruit-bearing, non-fruit-bearing, etc. we saw birds and lizards, lots of mesquite trees, about 10 million ocotillo cacti (i'll post a picture of those with my picture post) with beautiful purple flowers. derkirita loves the ocotillo. i mostly think she just likes the way it sounds when you say it.
we hiked for a while, and stopped to rest and snack on the dried fruit and reapply sunblock. we hiked up the mountain some more. we figured we'd be home soon. wrong. we figured the shack with the antenna on top would have water faucets, since it was on the road and was by the park look out. so not the case, friends and neighbors, so not the case. it was about this time that i started to get a little panicky, since we had used up the extra water and were down to what was left in our bottles. luckily, and thank the baby jesus, we started down the mountain. after several sets of wickedly sharp switchbacks, we ended up at the interpretive center, scene of last night's lecture on medical practices in the 1890's. we were very happy. we drank a lot of water. we slept in the tent (for a little while), saved the mr. dungeon master's (more on him in a second..) lunch from getting washed away in the brief afternoon shower, and talked about how we so almost just died. we also contemplated writing a sharply worded letter to the park service regarding their trail markers and how much they suck.
that night, we made the camp dinner to end all camp dinners, because the sweet baby jesus knows the three of us could have eaten a horse each and still had room left for dessert. now, i need to preface this part of the story with a couple of facts. kk and derkirita are two of the finest cooks i know, hands down. talk about making silk purses out of sow's ears..those two could make dinner from just about anything, and make it taste so good you'd want to slap someone. seriously. you should also know that kk is a peeps fiend. you know peeps-- the marshmallow sugar coated bunnies and chicks that you get at easter? kk loves them--i mean loves them in a deep and profound way that she can't explain. it's almost spiritual. but i digress...
so we make hobo dinners that night. they were glorious. little foil packets of goodness, including ground beef, carrots, potatoes, onions, spices, and a splash or two of red wine from our secret stash. they were wonderful. derkirita knows how to plan a menu. and kk knows how to order up a wonderful dessert. i have to admit that i was skeptical of what is now being called "peeps brulee" since i have been a life-long staunch peep hater. i was wrong. peeps brulee, the brain child of kk, was amazing. thank the lord derkirita saved a package of chicks and a package of bunnies from easter. ( kk said they were just the right amount of stale) we roasted the peeps over the coals left from making our hobo dinners. they tasted almost exactly like creme brulee, and the three of us managed to get burns on at least one finger a piece in our excitement and readiness to cram that gooey marshmallowy sugary goodness down our throats. glorious. and we cleaned up and went to bed, where we slept peacefully until about 4 am.
let me back up to mr. dungeon master's picnic basket. dungeon master and his family set up camp next to us sometime while we were on "the hike that never ended". it was a very nice tent, and when kk dropped the picnic basket in there, she noted that instead of the hot camping guys i was hoping had camped next to us, a family was in residence. they came tramping back sometime during the dinner hour, and seemed like a happy little fam. dungeon master was very nice to his wife and his kid. we decided they were "good people".
ok, so sometime around 4am, we three were awakened by a string of obscenities the likes of which i had only read about. and there was a lot of snorting. and it smelled really bad. and there was a lot more swearing. a lot more. the dungeon master and his family had left their dry box and cooler out on their picnic table like a bunch of dumb rookies. a whole band of javelinas had smelled the goodies from their den on the creek bed, and decided that it was dinner time. so dungeon master is awakened by their snorting and rooting around and squeals of delight as they tip the cooler off the picnic table. those javelinas are smart critters. so dungeon master comes out of his tent with his mag-light, and in the shadows of our own mag-light and the derkirita's head lamp, it looks like all he came out with was his mag-light. and by that, i mean the man looked naked as a jay-bird. and it was kind of scary. we figured out that he was indeed clothed, but in the smallest pair of whitey-tighties G-d ever made. so dungeon master is swearing and screaming and waving his arms trying to chase the javelinas off, and finally he succeeds. we giggled for a while, until we realized that being awake for so long has made us need to water the trees. we then remember that javelinas aren't' particularly nice animals, and a smell outside seems to indicate that kk's skunk friend is in the area and isn't a javelina fan, either. we went to the bathroom anyway. the rest of the night was quite peaceful, if not smelly.
there and back again...part one
oh lord. it's been two weeks of non-stop, wall-to-wall fun. i am completely overstimulated. i have seen mountains and valleys, mystery lights and historical buildings, 40 cousins and baby sonograms, burros and antelope, fat kids with snorkel fins and skinny grown-ups with beer cans. i have been in the world's largest national park and the world's largest spring-fed swimming pool. i have had my toothpaste spit eaten by a wild pack of javelinas and have snuck drinks of wine and beer from my coffee cup. i have eaten about 9 thousand hotdogs and floated the shortest river in texas with my baby cousins. i have heard stories about when i was little, and gave fodder for stories about what i was like in my 20's. but that's the short story. the long story, well, here it goes...
derkirita got into town on the 2nd. kk came over that night, as well, and sacrificed a night in her own bed. we three watched "lonesome dove", packed, and caught up on each other's stories. and we had our last real showers ( mine was glorious). we slept right through all three alarms the next morning, and instead of leaving at 7, we left at 8:30. go figure... after taco shack and a gas station run, we were on our way to the wilds of west texas.
we made decent time and arrived in ft. davis at around 3pm. we made camp, found out about the program at the state park interpretive center, and got ourselves firmly ensconced in camping mode, complete with a drive by from rat-tail man. i think rat tail man had been camping for a while, if the length of said rat-tail was any indication of duration-- kind of like the buttons on a rattle snake tail...it was highly entertaining, and he definitely had the biggest grill in the entire camp.
we decided to take in the interpretive talk at the park hq--what a doozie. the park ranger was hilarious! she had a side kick that was all dressed up like an officer's wife, who handed out bookmarks to everyone who answered a trivia question correctly. other than that, i'm not too sure what purpose the side kick served. comic relief maybe, because that park ranger was nuttier than a fruit cake. the ranger's talk was all about medical technology in the late 1800's. she just kept repeating things like "in 1891, we didn't even have things like aspirin" or "people would just die of diarrhea" or "we had to give heroin to people with hayfever". needless to say, the three of us used those sweet lines for the rest of the whole trip. and embellished them for our own purposes. so, after the ranger finished her talk, we headed back to tent, sweet tent for some dinner and adventure planning.
on the way there, we ran into the person we affectionately referred to as "skippy the stoner" for the rest of the week. we were walking to our tent, minding our own business, when we were approached by this young kid. "hey, i know this seems like a weird question, but do you guys have any pot? i mean, maybe you're looking to make a sale, or something..." seriously, this happened. the three of us just kind of looked at each other, and were like, "uh, no, sorry man" and we just walked away. the funny part is that i don't think he believed us one bit. in hind sight, we should have sold him the oregano in our spice kit. i think he put a gris-gris on us, (that's a cajun word for a curse) because we broke mr. derkits' leatherman when we were trying to make dinner. oops.
after dinner and a very sneaky cocktail hour that consisted of us pouring beer into our coffee cups and coughing loudly to cover up the sound of the pop top, we put on our jackets and headed up to the star viewing area of the park. it was amazing. it felt like you could have reached up and grabbed a handful of stars and put them in your pocket. and there were about a million and one fireflies all over the place, so it was like a million and one tiny flashbulbs going off all around you, which proved to be helpful when we were almost attacked by not one, but two skunks. yuck. kk thinks they are cute and insists that if you have them de-smelled that they would make wonderful pets. no way, jose. we got kicked out of the sky viewing area by the park hosts because it was after 10pm, but i think that since they almost ran us over (ok, we were lying in the middle of the road...), they could have let us stay for 30 more minutes. and then we went an brushed our teeth and went to bed for the night, which passed uneventfully.
derkirita got into town on the 2nd. kk came over that night, as well, and sacrificed a night in her own bed. we three watched "lonesome dove", packed, and caught up on each other's stories. and we had our last real showers ( mine was glorious). we slept right through all three alarms the next morning, and instead of leaving at 7, we left at 8:30. go figure... after taco shack and a gas station run, we were on our way to the wilds of west texas.
we made decent time and arrived in ft. davis at around 3pm. we made camp, found out about the program at the state park interpretive center, and got ourselves firmly ensconced in camping mode, complete with a drive by from rat-tail man. i think rat tail man had been camping for a while, if the length of said rat-tail was any indication of duration-- kind of like the buttons on a rattle snake tail...it was highly entertaining, and he definitely had the biggest grill in the entire camp.
we decided to take in the interpretive talk at the park hq--what a doozie. the park ranger was hilarious! she had a side kick that was all dressed up like an officer's wife, who handed out bookmarks to everyone who answered a trivia question correctly. other than that, i'm not too sure what purpose the side kick served. comic relief maybe, because that park ranger was nuttier than a fruit cake. the ranger's talk was all about medical technology in the late 1800's. she just kept repeating things like "in 1891, we didn't even have things like aspirin" or "people would just die of diarrhea" or "we had to give heroin to people with hayfever". needless to say, the three of us used those sweet lines for the rest of the whole trip. and embellished them for our own purposes. so, after the ranger finished her talk, we headed back to tent, sweet tent for some dinner and adventure planning.
on the way there, we ran into the person we affectionately referred to as "skippy the stoner" for the rest of the week. we were walking to our tent, minding our own business, when we were approached by this young kid. "hey, i know this seems like a weird question, but do you guys have any pot? i mean, maybe you're looking to make a sale, or something..." seriously, this happened. the three of us just kind of looked at each other, and were like, "uh, no, sorry man" and we just walked away. the funny part is that i don't think he believed us one bit. in hind sight, we should have sold him the oregano in our spice kit. i think he put a gris-gris on us, (that's a cajun word for a curse) because we broke mr. derkits' leatherman when we were trying to make dinner. oops.
after dinner and a very sneaky cocktail hour that consisted of us pouring beer into our coffee cups and coughing loudly to cover up the sound of the pop top, we put on our jackets and headed up to the star viewing area of the park. it was amazing. it felt like you could have reached up and grabbed a handful of stars and put them in your pocket. and there were about a million and one fireflies all over the place, so it was like a million and one tiny flashbulbs going off all around you, which proved to be helpful when we were almost attacked by not one, but two skunks. yuck. kk thinks they are cute and insists that if you have them de-smelled that they would make wonderful pets. no way, jose. we got kicked out of the sky viewing area by the park hosts because it was after 10pm, but i think that since they almost ran us over (ok, we were lying in the middle of the road...), they could have let us stay for 30 more minutes. and then we went an brushed our teeth and went to bed for the night, which passed uneventfully.
02 June 2005
popularity contest...
no, i'm not talking about my life and my shameless efforts to curry favor. i'm talking about all-star games. at the request of he who must be gratuitously footnoted and occasionally obeyed, i am weighing in on this rant...
all-star games, while nice in principle, are total crap. aside from the show-boat events like the dunk contest or the homerun derby, those games are just another chance for the pretty faces of the various leagues to get more camera time, more time to endorse the crap they sell, more time for the tax base of the host city to be enriched, etc. and for what? home field advantage? in an age where cheap air-fare and the horrible pervasiveness of expansion teams makes it fairly easy for the average person to go watch the game of their choice, all-star games are pointless.
not to mention that, as aristotle and de toqueville pointed out, people, when left to their own devices, usually act like pin-heads. take the upcoming baseball all-star ballot, for instance. nomar (now i know he was a red sox player, but not any more...so he gets no protection from me), who's on the DL at the moment with an unfortunate injury, but only had a .157 batting average when he got placed on the DL. i think i know some high school freshman who could get a .157. that voting isn't about putting the best of the best forward, it's about promoting who we like best, which is totally different.
all i'm saying is that if we want all star games to be like the miss america pageant, and just pick the prettiest, nicest, most outgoing players, then let's just own that, and deal with the mediocre game that will ensue. on the other hand, if the all star games are about picking the best players to play against each other in a non-division game, then why not let the coaches and players do the picking, and just let us stick to the hot dog eating, beer swilling, heckling from the stands, and watching, just watching, amazing feats of athleticism. that's all i'm saying.
and just to really make some people mad, i'll go ahead and say this-- NASCAR IS NOT A SPORT. yes, it is physically taxing. yes, it is difficult to drive a car 250 miles an hour around a tiny circle and only make left turns and avoid hitting the other cars on the track. but it's not a sport. if you think it is, you are wrong. putting NASCAR in a class with basketball (GO SPURS GO!) or baseball or even freaking curling hurts my heart. it does more than that, it almost offends me on a personal level. i mean, if you are going to classify NASCAR as a sport, i want my standing saturday night babysitting gig with The Four Horsemen considered a sport as well.
the deep throat post is coming...
mil besos--rmg
all-star games, while nice in principle, are total crap. aside from the show-boat events like the dunk contest or the homerun derby, those games are just another chance for the pretty faces of the various leagues to get more camera time, more time to endorse the crap they sell, more time for the tax base of the host city to be enriched, etc. and for what? home field advantage? in an age where cheap air-fare and the horrible pervasiveness of expansion teams makes it fairly easy for the average person to go watch the game of their choice, all-star games are pointless.
not to mention that, as aristotle and de toqueville pointed out, people, when left to their own devices, usually act like pin-heads. take the upcoming baseball all-star ballot, for instance. nomar (now i know he was a red sox player, but not any more...so he gets no protection from me), who's on the DL at the moment with an unfortunate injury, but only had a .157 batting average when he got placed on the DL. i think i know some high school freshman who could get a .157. that voting isn't about putting the best of the best forward, it's about promoting who we like best, which is totally different.
all i'm saying is that if we want all star games to be like the miss america pageant, and just pick the prettiest, nicest, most outgoing players, then let's just own that, and deal with the mediocre game that will ensue. on the other hand, if the all star games are about picking the best players to play against each other in a non-division game, then why not let the coaches and players do the picking, and just let us stick to the hot dog eating, beer swilling, heckling from the stands, and watching, just watching, amazing feats of athleticism. that's all i'm saying.
and just to really make some people mad, i'll go ahead and say this-- NASCAR IS NOT A SPORT. yes, it is physically taxing. yes, it is difficult to drive a car 250 miles an hour around a tiny circle and only make left turns and avoid hitting the other cars on the track. but it's not a sport. if you think it is, you are wrong. putting NASCAR in a class with basketball (GO SPURS GO!) or baseball or even freaking curling hurts my heart. it does more than that, it almost offends me on a personal level. i mean, if you are going to classify NASCAR as a sport, i want my standing saturday night babysitting gig with The Four Horsemen considered a sport as well.
the deep throat post is coming...
mil besos--rmg
01 June 2005
long kiss goodnight
and so it begins. i turned in my resignation to the boss man yesterday at 5:15. i have spent most of the day telling kids and parents. it sucks. but it's kind of good, because it's important that i do this-- and by "this ", i mean telling the kids and making good plans to leave. they are taking the news well, and i am very grateful for that.
in other news, this morning, i woke to the sound of rock hitting glass, and was shocked and dismayed to find that the lawn guys had weed-eaten a rock right through my sliding glass door. believe it or not, this is the second time this has happened to me. blah. however, the cool part was that one of the guys who came to repair the glass was an old high school acquaintance of mine, and when he heard that i had a lunch meeting, he got the situation taken care of muy pronto. yet another thing for which to be grateful...
and i got to wear my second favorite outfit today-- white linen skirt, brown t-shirt, cute flippies. and my hair is incredible today.
i'm having a meeting with the first set of law firms to set up interviews, and based on the prelim convo, the one i wanted to work for is not going to pan out, at least that's my initial impression. but keep your fingers crossed...
mil besos--rmg, the process queen
in other news, this morning, i woke to the sound of rock hitting glass, and was shocked and dismayed to find that the lawn guys had weed-eaten a rock right through my sliding glass door. believe it or not, this is the second time this has happened to me. blah. however, the cool part was that one of the guys who came to repair the glass was an old high school acquaintance of mine, and when he heard that i had a lunch meeting, he got the situation taken care of muy pronto. yet another thing for which to be grateful...
and i got to wear my second favorite outfit today-- white linen skirt, brown t-shirt, cute flippies. and my hair is incredible today.
i'm having a meeting with the first set of law firms to set up interviews, and based on the prelim convo, the one i wanted to work for is not going to pan out, at least that's my initial impression. but keep your fingers crossed...
fun is on the way... i just know it. it has to be that way. and this time next week, i will hopefully have more clarity, a kick-butt tan, and some freaking clue about the direction my life is taking... i'll keep you posted.
mil besos--rmg, the process queen
31 May 2005
the low down
it's been quite the last few days, friends and neighbors. esteban came in on thursday night, and except for the time he spent with his fam, esteban, stuey and i were inseparable. it was quite the learning experience... my liver hurts real bad, right now, i'm ashamed to say. i learned several new words, none of which are blogable, but are fun to know, just the same. i learned that club soda actually does get red wine stains out of carpet the hard way. i also became esteban and stuey's favorite female friend because i helped them wax and shave their backs. it was highly entertaining, much like my habitual use of the cell phone while intoxicated. my apologies to you fine people who got called...a lady had a long night.
we also managed to crashed a james bond party (at a bar, not at a house--we do have SOME class...)on thursday-- the bond people gave us big stink-eye for showing up to their party in jeans and flip flops. esteban insisted on wearing the conical hat (like a rice hat) he'd bought at party pig around all night thursday night. shocker that it ended up sans it's elastic strap and died and undignified death on my dining room table.
to say that we had a good visit seems a horrible understatement. we celebrated his trip and my soon departure from the current job in style last night-- esteban, stuey, and i finished off two bottles (one small pinot and one really huge shiraz) of red, listened to lots of random music, and laughed our heads off. i woke up at four and had to take two advil, because it felt like my head was full of tiny people with tiny pick-axes hacking away at my grey matter. i also had to wake up because i was having the worst dreams EVER. scenario one: i am female napoleon dynamite, trying to get across the country and having to sell my favors in the back of a winnebago to get home. awful, awful, awful. Scenario two: i am running a used car lot and attempting to sell cars to the entire cast of dallas. equally weird, but not as awkward as the first scenario. this, friends and neighbors, is why i rarely drink. it messes with my head. real bad.
so the boss has been in and out all day today, so everytime i walk up to his office door to have The Talk, he's busy walking out of it, on the phone, etc. part of me wonders what would happen if i just taped my letter to his door, and left at 5. but, i am a lady, and ladies do things the right way. boo.
consider yourselves caught up. i'm sure there will be another story tomorrow, but hopefully a dreamless night. yay.
mil besos--rmg
we also managed to crashed a james bond party (at a bar, not at a house--we do have SOME class...)on thursday-- the bond people gave us big stink-eye for showing up to their party in jeans and flip flops. esteban insisted on wearing the conical hat (like a rice hat) he'd bought at party pig around all night thursday night. shocker that it ended up sans it's elastic strap and died and undignified death on my dining room table.
to say that we had a good visit seems a horrible understatement. we celebrated his trip and my soon departure from the current job in style last night-- esteban, stuey, and i finished off two bottles (one small pinot and one really huge shiraz) of red, listened to lots of random music, and laughed our heads off. i woke up at four and had to take two advil, because it felt like my head was full of tiny people with tiny pick-axes hacking away at my grey matter. i also had to wake up because i was having the worst dreams EVER. scenario one: i am female napoleon dynamite, trying to get across the country and having to sell my favors in the back of a winnebago to get home. awful, awful, awful. Scenario two: i am running a used car lot and attempting to sell cars to the entire cast of dallas. equally weird, but not as awkward as the first scenario. this, friends and neighbors, is why i rarely drink. it messes with my head. real bad.
so the boss has been in and out all day today, so everytime i walk up to his office door to have The Talk, he's busy walking out of it, on the phone, etc. part of me wonders what would happen if i just taped my letter to his door, and left at 5. but, i am a lady, and ladies do things the right way. boo.
consider yourselves caught up. i'm sure there will be another story tomorrow, but hopefully a dreamless night. yay.
mil besos--rmg
26 May 2005
spazzy magee
i've been thinking alot about what i do lately, and why i do what i do, and why i think it's important. i've also been thinking about why it's time to move on...here are some of those thoughs...
what i do: i listen to kids. i play with kids. i tie dye, i make them eat gross food, i play endless games of sardines. i write bible studies that i know full well i will only get to teach half of, because God will steer the direction of the conversation where God wills. i make phone calls, i write emails, i send post cards and newsletters. i sit on instant messenger so that kids can tell me about what they did that day. i try to give sound advice on how to not get into trouble with parents, siblings, and teachers. and i try to give sound advice on how to not get in trouble with children to parents.
why i do what i do: i do it all because i firmly believe that if the family dynamic is healthy, the church will be healthy. i do it all because i feel that children have magnificent things to say and do and be, and they are at a time in their lives when it's all but impossible for their parents to be there at all times. i do it because it's precious to me. because i firmly believe that they have a place a the table, and all my gifts in this life have led me to be here to help them set that place.
i don't kid myself that i teach them grand and glorious things about theology or ultimate reality. i don't kid myself that i'm teaching them how to be more moral people. i'm there so that in 15 years, they will be there, too. i'm there so that they know they matter and that they are loved, which they won't get until 15 years from now, anyway.
why it's time to do something else: little things that used to make me laugh drive me nuts now. there is a point at which you know too much to stay, but enough to leave-- i am at that point. i love my kids enough to let someone else love them. i value my relationship with God enough to move on and see what's around the next bend in the road, even though the easy thing to do would be to stay in my comfort zone. it would also potentially be the worst thing.
so, there's that...in other news, esteban's flight from boston will be here in about and hour and a half. let the fun begin.
i had some trouble getting to sleep last night. i even stayed up to watch malcolm in the middle, which usually does the trick, but to no avail. i read some of my book filled with unfamiliar russian last names and oddly translated words, but to no avail. i finally got to sleep around 2. silly me, i know. i guess the thought of grown-up fun for three days is just too much to handle. and i'm going to see the fam this weekend, on top of that, so a wee bit of extra excitement was prolly in order.
this is the second weird hair (not bad, i do not have bad hair days) i've had in a row. i think i got too much product in it this morning. under other circumstances, i would have washed it and started over, but i was running a little on the late side, since i hit the snooze button twice. if it goes for three days, i may have to make an apt. with the hair lady to get things figured out. i'll keep you posted. be ready for lots of stories on tuesday, maybe sooner if i can tear myself away from the fun zone to post.
mil besos-r
what i do: i listen to kids. i play with kids. i tie dye, i make them eat gross food, i play endless games of sardines. i write bible studies that i know full well i will only get to teach half of, because God will steer the direction of the conversation where God wills. i make phone calls, i write emails, i send post cards and newsletters. i sit on instant messenger so that kids can tell me about what they did that day. i try to give sound advice on how to not get into trouble with parents, siblings, and teachers. and i try to give sound advice on how to not get in trouble with children to parents.
why i do what i do: i do it all because i firmly believe that if the family dynamic is healthy, the church will be healthy. i do it all because i feel that children have magnificent things to say and do and be, and they are at a time in their lives when it's all but impossible for their parents to be there at all times. i do it because it's precious to me. because i firmly believe that they have a place a the table, and all my gifts in this life have led me to be here to help them set that place.
i don't kid myself that i teach them grand and glorious things about theology or ultimate reality. i don't kid myself that i'm teaching them how to be more moral people. i'm there so that in 15 years, they will be there, too. i'm there so that they know they matter and that they are loved, which they won't get until 15 years from now, anyway.
why it's time to do something else: little things that used to make me laugh drive me nuts now. there is a point at which you know too much to stay, but enough to leave-- i am at that point. i love my kids enough to let someone else love them. i value my relationship with God enough to move on and see what's around the next bend in the road, even though the easy thing to do would be to stay in my comfort zone. it would also potentially be the worst thing.
so, there's that...in other news, esteban's flight from boston will be here in about and hour and a half. let the fun begin.
i had some trouble getting to sleep last night. i even stayed up to watch malcolm in the middle, which usually does the trick, but to no avail. i read some of my book filled with unfamiliar russian last names and oddly translated words, but to no avail. i finally got to sleep around 2. silly me, i know. i guess the thought of grown-up fun for three days is just too much to handle. and i'm going to see the fam this weekend, on top of that, so a wee bit of extra excitement was prolly in order.
this is the second weird hair (not bad, i do not have bad hair days) i've had in a row. i think i got too much product in it this morning. under other circumstances, i would have washed it and started over, but i was running a little on the late side, since i hit the snooze button twice. if it goes for three days, i may have to make an apt. with the hair lady to get things figured out. i'll keep you posted. be ready for lots of stories on tuesday, maybe sooner if i can tear myself away from the fun zone to post.
mil besos-r
25 May 2005
once more, with feeling
i guess you can deduce from this communication that i did not explode after my untra-fiber breakfast. you can stop saying novenas now...if you want to.
alright people, it's 3:45pm, and i just had my afternoon meeting cancelled. life is good. very good. an even though it means missing free amy's ice cream, i think i will live. besides, i need to go home and clean my house, change the sheets on my bed, buy some toilet paper, run the dishwasher, etc before esteban arrives. and tomorrow, around 5:30, if you hear a loud noise followed by an immediate shortage in martini olives, just chalk it up to me and esteban being on the prowl, once again. and if i call you for bail money, act like you know me and don't hang up the phone.
i have to say that while i haven't had anymore laughing fits, i did have some custard after lunch, and i remembered another hot afternoon custard run. we (the future mrs. CHRISTMAN, super-mel, andrea, and little me) were coming back from the new jersey shore (we stayed the weekend at brooke stupid's (not her real last name, and we really do love her..., it's a long story) beach house, after the future mrs. CHRISTMAN and i had camped out with her inner-city kids and scared the crap out of them with ghost stories...), actually almost right about this time of year, and we stopped on the way back to dc for some frozen custard. super-mel got some creamcicle in her hair (whilst she was trying to untagle a ring from her necklace and trying not to get creamcicle drippage on the future mrs. CHRISTman's upholstry), and in the laughter that insued, proceeded to wipe it all over the windows of the future mrs. CHRISTman's toyota. i think i might have laughed myself into partial bladder control failure, but i'll never tell for sure. that combined with the fact that while getting gas in new jersey (they won't let you pump your own gas-- how bizarre!), i actually referred to our gas pumper as "skippy" when i handed him the gas card. i was a little embarassed, mostly for him, because he was a total skippy, but that's another story.
all is well. get ready for some stories on tuesday, which, incedentally, will also be THE DAY i boldly go where many have gone before, hopefully with some grace and style. i'll keep you posted.
mil besos--r
alright people, it's 3:45pm, and i just had my afternoon meeting cancelled. life is good. very good. an even though it means missing free amy's ice cream, i think i will live. besides, i need to go home and clean my house, change the sheets on my bed, buy some toilet paper, run the dishwasher, etc before esteban arrives. and tomorrow, around 5:30, if you hear a loud noise followed by an immediate shortage in martini olives, just chalk it up to me and esteban being on the prowl, once again. and if i call you for bail money, act like you know me and don't hang up the phone.
i have to say that while i haven't had anymore laughing fits, i did have some custard after lunch, and i remembered another hot afternoon custard run. we (the future mrs. CHRISTMAN, super-mel, andrea, and little me) were coming back from the new jersey shore (we stayed the weekend at brooke stupid's (not her real last name, and we really do love her..., it's a long story) beach house, after the future mrs. CHRISTMAN and i had camped out with her inner-city kids and scared the crap out of them with ghost stories...), actually almost right about this time of year, and we stopped on the way back to dc for some frozen custard. super-mel got some creamcicle in her hair (whilst she was trying to untagle a ring from her necklace and trying not to get creamcicle drippage on the future mrs. CHRISTman's upholstry), and in the laughter that insued, proceeded to wipe it all over the windows of the future mrs. CHRISTman's toyota. i think i might have laughed myself into partial bladder control failure, but i'll never tell for sure. that combined with the fact that while getting gas in new jersey (they won't let you pump your own gas-- how bizarre!), i actually referred to our gas pumper as "skippy" when i handed him the gas card. i was a little embarassed, mostly for him, because he was a total skippy, but that's another story.
all is well. get ready for some stories on tuesday, which, incedentally, will also be THE DAY i boldly go where many have gone before, hopefully with some grace and style. i'll keep you posted.
mil besos--r
wednesday morning, 10:15am
i've already had two laughing fits today, and no coffee. i hope you folks are ready for a fun day. i know i am.
first fit-- i went to bed with wet hair last night, and woke up with major chicken hair. lumps, bumps, and weird waves. for those of you who have seen me in such a state, to say that it's not pretty seems like a horrible understatement. so, instead of hopping in the shower, i turned on the sink and just stuck my head under the faucet, which would have been fine, (i have done this before, countless times...) had i not gotten a big chunk of hair stuck in the drain. it hurt real bad. but i was laughing to hard to panic. i leaned further into the sink, by this time trying not to panic, but still laughing, and gently pulled my hair out of the sink. i am very picky and protective when it comes to my hair, so i was very very glad that i didn't have to cut any of it off to extricate myself from the sink.
second fit--my old roomie , the soon to be mrs. CHRISTman (yes, i spelled it that way on purpose, and no she's not going to become a nun...) sent me a lovely mix cd last week. there's this great song on it called "david duchovney" by a band called bree sharp. what a super song! i laughed and laughed, and then replayed it so i could sing along to the chorus. my favorite tag: to kiss and to hug me, debrief and debug me, why won't you love me, david duchovney?" i got the giggles again. and they lasted for a while, because once i got to work...
it was breakfast time. i know, i will miss this kind of lax working environment when i finally grow up and go all corporate. so, i made myself some oatmeal (pick yourself off the floor mom, i really do like the stuff now). only i didn't make it right, because i put too much water in the mug. and it ended up all soupy and gooey, but not in a good way. so, instead of pouring that out and starting over, i just kept adding oatmeal packets. i ate three oatmeal packets for breakfast. i'm expecting some interesting developments over the next few hours...i hope i don't explode.
i'll keep you posted, sort of.
in other blogs, my good friend bethy @ www.bethsincessantramblings.blogspot.com
has a very good (i think so anyway) post up about stem cell research. check it out.
mil besos--r
first fit-- i went to bed with wet hair last night, and woke up with major chicken hair. lumps, bumps, and weird waves. for those of you who have seen me in such a state, to say that it's not pretty seems like a horrible understatement. so, instead of hopping in the shower, i turned on the sink and just stuck my head under the faucet, which would have been fine, (i have done this before, countless times...) had i not gotten a big chunk of hair stuck in the drain. it hurt real bad. but i was laughing to hard to panic. i leaned further into the sink, by this time trying not to panic, but still laughing, and gently pulled my hair out of the sink. i am very picky and protective when it comes to my hair, so i was very very glad that i didn't have to cut any of it off to extricate myself from the sink.
second fit--my old roomie , the soon to be mrs. CHRISTman (yes, i spelled it that way on purpose, and no she's not going to become a nun...) sent me a lovely mix cd last week. there's this great song on it called "david duchovney" by a band called bree sharp. what a super song! i laughed and laughed, and then replayed it so i could sing along to the chorus. my favorite tag: to kiss and to hug me, debrief and debug me, why won't you love me, david duchovney?" i got the giggles again. and they lasted for a while, because once i got to work...
it was breakfast time. i know, i will miss this kind of lax working environment when i finally grow up and go all corporate. so, i made myself some oatmeal (pick yourself off the floor mom, i really do like the stuff now). only i didn't make it right, because i put too much water in the mug. and it ended up all soupy and gooey, but not in a good way. so, instead of pouring that out and starting over, i just kept adding oatmeal packets. i ate three oatmeal packets for breakfast. i'm expecting some interesting developments over the next few hours...i hope i don't explode.
i'll keep you posted, sort of.
in other blogs, my good friend bethy @ www.bethsincessantramblings.blogspot.com
has a very good (i think so anyway) post up about stem cell research. check it out.
mil besos--r
24 May 2005
wonderment, part two
my mom is offically the smartest person i know. i've known that for sometime now, but feel compelled to say it in a public venue. and even though we absolutely don't agree on things like politics or whether or not i should have short hair, i still think she's a genius.
i'd also like to thank her for not killing me when i was in junior high, because G-d knows i gave her plenty of chances and reasons. and i'm sure that she would have much rather had my brother and i ride in the trunk on some of those trips to see the alabama folks, instead of listening to us fight and call each other sweet names like butt-face or fart-knocker (that one still cracks me up...)
some answers to this morning's questions:
1) tom cruise makes news because he is prettier than the average man. that's all there is to it. it's not right, but that's the way it is.
2) mj is a big old freak, all accusations of parental misconduct aside. and letterman will always be better than leno. period.
3) dr. spock would definately not approve of putting your kids in the trunk to see grammy. but maybe if we supported a movement to apply a living wage to working families, the fam in question could have freaking gone greyhound.
4) coffee sketches me out because i let it. i have moved on to tea.
5) i remember what i wear because i like memories better than money. i call the bank to make sure i have money, even though i know i do. i chalk that up to not wanting to get caught off guard, even though i know i won't. it's bizarre, i know.
6) my grandmother's tuna fish salad tastes better because, like my brother says, she makes it with extra love, and that's something you can't make for yourself.
in other news...
save your pocket money. i may need it for bail, if not this weekend, then next weekend.
esteban is coming in this weekend for merriment and memorializing, and the next weekend, the derkirita and kk and i are going to big bend, etc. for some much needed vacationizing and debauchery. at least as much debauchery as the three of us can kick up in brewster county. i'll admit that while we are nice girls, we do in fact know some people who have done naughty things. like skinny dipping at rio vista and getting busted right before graduation. so, even though we won't be super-bad, i can imagine that we will gossip and drink beer and tell scary stories. and we will probably eat some chocolate. and derkirita and kk will roast peeps by the campfire while i try not to throw up. it's going to be a good time. and there will be a lot of music, as well.
which brings me to another fine point-- the wild bean made me a weezer mix sunday night. i haven't taken it out of my cd player yet. i adore weezer. the sweater song makes me feel all sassy and nostalgic at the same time. it's one of those songs that i could totally get busted singing to at a stop light and about which i would feel utterly unapologetic. same goes for "crash on the barrelhead" by the old 97's.
oh geeze, it's three o'clock. time to do work. i'll try and give you people more inane drivel to read later this pm...
mil besos-r
i'd also like to thank her for not killing me when i was in junior high, because G-d knows i gave her plenty of chances and reasons. and i'm sure that she would have much rather had my brother and i ride in the trunk on some of those trips to see the alabama folks, instead of listening to us fight and call each other sweet names like butt-face or fart-knocker (that one still cracks me up...)
some answers to this morning's questions:
1) tom cruise makes news because he is prettier than the average man. that's all there is to it. it's not right, but that's the way it is.
2) mj is a big old freak, all accusations of parental misconduct aside. and letterman will always be better than leno. period.
3) dr. spock would definately not approve of putting your kids in the trunk to see grammy. but maybe if we supported a movement to apply a living wage to working families, the fam in question could have freaking gone greyhound.
4) coffee sketches me out because i let it. i have moved on to tea.
5) i remember what i wear because i like memories better than money. i call the bank to make sure i have money, even though i know i do. i chalk that up to not wanting to get caught off guard, even though i know i won't. it's bizarre, i know.
6) my grandmother's tuna fish salad tastes better because, like my brother says, she makes it with extra love, and that's something you can't make for yourself.
in other news...
save your pocket money. i may need it for bail, if not this weekend, then next weekend.
esteban is coming in this weekend for merriment and memorializing, and the next weekend, the derkirita and kk and i are going to big bend, etc. for some much needed vacationizing and debauchery. at least as much debauchery as the three of us can kick up in brewster county. i'll admit that while we are nice girls, we do in fact know some people who have done naughty things. like skinny dipping at rio vista and getting busted right before graduation. so, even though we won't be super-bad, i can imagine that we will gossip and drink beer and tell scary stories. and we will probably eat some chocolate. and derkirita and kk will roast peeps by the campfire while i try not to throw up. it's going to be a good time. and there will be a lot of music, as well.
which brings me to another fine point-- the wild bean made me a weezer mix sunday night. i haven't taken it out of my cd player yet. i adore weezer. the sweater song makes me feel all sassy and nostalgic at the same time. it's one of those songs that i could totally get busted singing to at a stop light and about which i would feel utterly unapologetic. same goes for "crash on the barrelhead" by the old 97's.
oh geeze, it's three o'clock. time to do work. i'll try and give you people more inane drivel to read later this pm...
mil besos-r
just wondering...
ok, here are my questions for the day:
why does what tom cruise says about katie holmes get registered as news? what about that seems right?
why in the world is jay leno testifying for michael jackson? what about that seems like a good idea?
why do parents put their kids in the trunk of a car to go visit auntie so-and-so? dr. spock would definately not recommend that, would he?
why does coffee make me awake and focused if i drink it before 10am, but jittery and freaked out if i drink it after 3pm?
why can i remember what i had on during pivotal occasions/conversations in my life but have to call the bank to check my balance?
last one:
why, even though i make mine the exact same way, does my grandmother's tuna fish salad taste better than mine?
go ahead, leave a comment, i dare you.
i'll be back later, maybe even with some answers...
mil besos-r
why does what tom cruise says about katie holmes get registered as news? what about that seems right?
why in the world is jay leno testifying for michael jackson? what about that seems like a good idea?
why do parents put their kids in the trunk of a car to go visit auntie so-and-so? dr. spock would definately not recommend that, would he?
why does coffee make me awake and focused if i drink it before 10am, but jittery and freaked out if i drink it after 3pm?
why can i remember what i had on during pivotal occasions/conversations in my life but have to call the bank to check my balance?
last one:
why, even though i make mine the exact same way, does my grandmother's tuna fish salad taste better than mine?
go ahead, leave a comment, i dare you.
i'll be back later, maybe even with some answers...
mil besos-r
17 May 2005
truth number 2
the greatest niece/nephew ever will be discovering the universe on december 5th--probably. his/her parents are happy and doing well. his/her auntie is very excited. his/her auntie is having a hard time restraining the urgent need to shop and buy lots of fun baby things. yay.
mil besos-r
mil besos-r
my favorite art form
ok, it's 2:30pm and i just got out of the most pointless staff meeting ever. staff meetings are a waste of time, and i happen to believe that waste is a sin.
the only thing that could make me feel better (ok, it's on the short list of things that could make me feel better) is a killer nap. and i don't just mean the fall asleep on the couch by accident while you're trying to watch oprah. i'm talking about the full on purposeful nap. you know what i mean-- the kind of nap where you eat a little extra food at lunch to push you into a carb-coma, rush home before you get crossed eyed at the wheel, throw on your pj pants and a t-shirt (my preferred outfit: blue and white pin-stripe old navy cotton boxer pants and a [plain white hanes undershirt-- best outfit in the world. i love that outfit more than i will probably love my wedding dress) crank the air conditioner down to 65, turn off the cell phone, snuggle under the covers and sleep.
and not just any ordinary sleep, either. i mean sleep like you can only get when you take a really intentional, well-planned nap. the kind of sleep that takes you 30 minutes to climb out of because you are so relaxed that your whole body just kind of tingles, the kind of sleep that you wake from briefly to drink some water or go potty and then rush right back into (because, let's face it, if you asked for an i.v. and a foley before you went to sleep, people would look at you all funny). the kind of sleep that starts at 4pm on an idle tuesday and ends somewhere around 7am on wednesday. it's amazing.
i remember my golden days of napping-- napping was what i referred to as sleep in college. my friends and mom knew when i had class, and knew if i wasn't in class, i was prolly working on homework or asleep. people knew when to call, when to come by, and they never, ever messed with my nap schedule. it was wonderful. i could work until 3am, sleep until my 10 am class, go to class until 2 or 3pm, come home and nap until 6pm, go eat dinner at the cafeteria (or cook after i moved out of the dorm), come home and study or do homework until 2 or 3am and start the cycle all over again. it was glorious. ah, college, how i occasionally miss you...
life is good. sleep is good. once i finally get home today (it's a long one, today friends and neighbors. two of my cherubs wanted to have one last breakfast with little old me before they graduate, so i met them at our spot at 7am, and tonight is a graduation party for a staff member, so i won't be home until 8pm. please hold all calls and questions until then...) i need to pack for my weekend jaunt to the piney woods, thank G-d i did laundry and ironed last night.
ta ta for now, my compatriots.
viva la nap. mil besos--r
the only thing that could make me feel better (ok, it's on the short list of things that could make me feel better) is a killer nap. and i don't just mean the fall asleep on the couch by accident while you're trying to watch oprah. i'm talking about the full on purposeful nap. you know what i mean-- the kind of nap where you eat a little extra food at lunch to push you into a carb-coma, rush home before you get crossed eyed at the wheel, throw on your pj pants and a t-shirt (my preferred outfit: blue and white pin-stripe old navy cotton boxer pants and a [plain white hanes undershirt-- best outfit in the world. i love that outfit more than i will probably love my wedding dress) crank the air conditioner down to 65, turn off the cell phone, snuggle under the covers and sleep.
and not just any ordinary sleep, either. i mean sleep like you can only get when you take a really intentional, well-planned nap. the kind of sleep that takes you 30 minutes to climb out of because you are so relaxed that your whole body just kind of tingles, the kind of sleep that you wake from briefly to drink some water or go potty and then rush right back into (because, let's face it, if you asked for an i.v. and a foley before you went to sleep, people would look at you all funny). the kind of sleep that starts at 4pm on an idle tuesday and ends somewhere around 7am on wednesday. it's amazing.
i remember my golden days of napping-- napping was what i referred to as sleep in college. my friends and mom knew when i had class, and knew if i wasn't in class, i was prolly working on homework or asleep. people knew when to call, when to come by, and they never, ever messed with my nap schedule. it was wonderful. i could work until 3am, sleep until my 10 am class, go to class until 2 or 3pm, come home and nap until 6pm, go eat dinner at the cafeteria (or cook after i moved out of the dorm), come home and study or do homework until 2 or 3am and start the cycle all over again. it was glorious. ah, college, how i occasionally miss you...
life is good. sleep is good. once i finally get home today (it's a long one, today friends and neighbors. two of my cherubs wanted to have one last breakfast with little old me before they graduate, so i met them at our spot at 7am, and tonight is a graduation party for a staff member, so i won't be home until 8pm. please hold all calls and questions until then...) i need to pack for my weekend jaunt to the piney woods, thank G-d i did laundry and ironed last night.
ta ta for now, my compatriots.
viva la nap. mil besos--r
16 May 2005
bad sign...
what happens when you have the only inanimate object in the zodiac as your sign? crappy horoscopes like this:
You may not have much luck getting to sleep for a day or so, especially if you've been trying to figure out how to deal with an extremely precarious personal situation.
well thank you Captain Obvious for that stunning and suprising report. geeze oh man, people, geeze oh man. i should tell you that i really don't put much stock in crap like horoscopes, etc. i pretty much think they are crap, all the time. today's hit the nail on the head, though. i don't know if that's coincidence, like how if you put 20 chimps in a room with 20 typewritters and locked them in for a certain period of time at some point they would have typed out all of shakespeare's sonnets, or if El Jefe (that's mary's baby daddy) is trying to get my attention by any means necessary. i know, El Jefe only rarely gets militant, but it's been known to happen from time to time.
the funny thing is, i've had a string of really great days. i don't mean days where it's all happy-happy joy-joy, but great days nonetheless. some light thinking, but no car crying, some light journaling, but no really bad poetry, some recreational alcohol consumption, but no drunk-dailing. i even found time to work on my tan this weekend. and brunch after baby nels' baptism was ab-fab. i am still a little full, i must confess. and then last night at about 8pm i just start on this spiral of thought that just never got to the bottom of everything. it sucked.
it was like i couldn't stop thinking-- and i don't mean just about me and my life. i was thinking about the november arrival of my fabulous niece or nephew, about my friend a-rod and how he needs a new job, about all these random interviews i have been encouraged to take--like everywhere from kansas to atlanta to houston, whether or not i am secretly out to break my own heart, etc. ok, so i did think alot about my life. and i tried the old trick of counting backwards from 476 (it used to work when i was little), i did my yoga breathing, i tried thinking of nice things, i imagined all my favorite colors in order (blue like the sky, green like the grass, brown like the dirt, etc...), i tried to sing all the verses from american pie inside my head, because i know the whole song is 24 minutes long, and i just knew that would put me to sleep.
i thought about turning the light on and reading some more, but by this time, it was almost 2, and i was afraid that if i started reading, i would get really interested and end up even more awake than i already was. i should have turned on the light. but i didn't come to that realization until about 6am, when i got up to go to the bathroom and realized that i had to be at work in 3.5 hours. i was not happy.
let me just say this: i know why they use sleeplessness to torture people. lack of sleep gets inside your head-- it makes you wonder about things you just should leave alone. it sucks.
sometimes i think i should change the blog's name from "blue plate special" to "welcome to my neurotic universe". it's bizarre, because i know i don't have a big old case of the crazies-- this is normal, i am ok, and lord knows i give a lot of latitude when it comes to the rest of the human race actually being human. maybe this is what mary luna meant when she told me i needed to learn to be gentle with myself. and maybe this is a start. so, keep reading if you dare. heaven knows i can't keep from writing it all down, in some form or fashion. in the mean time ( oh G-d, there is a song in that phrase, i just know it...) i'm going to go make a pot of coffee and finish my magical work notebook.
mil besos--rmg
*in the mean time,
in between time,
oh there's a fine line
between where you are
and where you wish to be*
You may not have much luck getting to sleep for a day or so, especially if you've been trying to figure out how to deal with an extremely precarious personal situation.
well thank you Captain Obvious for that stunning and suprising report. geeze oh man, people, geeze oh man. i should tell you that i really don't put much stock in crap like horoscopes, etc. i pretty much think they are crap, all the time. today's hit the nail on the head, though. i don't know if that's coincidence, like how if you put 20 chimps in a room with 20 typewritters and locked them in for a certain period of time at some point they would have typed out all of shakespeare's sonnets, or if El Jefe (that's mary's baby daddy) is trying to get my attention by any means necessary. i know, El Jefe only rarely gets militant, but it's been known to happen from time to time.
the funny thing is, i've had a string of really great days. i don't mean days where it's all happy-happy joy-joy, but great days nonetheless. some light thinking, but no car crying, some light journaling, but no really bad poetry, some recreational alcohol consumption, but no drunk-dailing. i even found time to work on my tan this weekend. and brunch after baby nels' baptism was ab-fab. i am still a little full, i must confess. and then last night at about 8pm i just start on this spiral of thought that just never got to the bottom of everything. it sucked.
it was like i couldn't stop thinking-- and i don't mean just about me and my life. i was thinking about the november arrival of my fabulous niece or nephew, about my friend a-rod and how he needs a new job, about all these random interviews i have been encouraged to take--like everywhere from kansas to atlanta to houston, whether or not i am secretly out to break my own heart, etc. ok, so i did think alot about my life. and i tried the old trick of counting backwards from 476 (it used to work when i was little), i did my yoga breathing, i tried thinking of nice things, i imagined all my favorite colors in order (blue like the sky, green like the grass, brown like the dirt, etc...), i tried to sing all the verses from american pie inside my head, because i know the whole song is 24 minutes long, and i just knew that would put me to sleep.
i thought about turning the light on and reading some more, but by this time, it was almost 2, and i was afraid that if i started reading, i would get really interested and end up even more awake than i already was. i should have turned on the light. but i didn't come to that realization until about 6am, when i got up to go to the bathroom and realized that i had to be at work in 3.5 hours. i was not happy.
let me just say this: i know why they use sleeplessness to torture people. lack of sleep gets inside your head-- it makes you wonder about things you just should leave alone. it sucks.
sometimes i think i should change the blog's name from "blue plate special" to "welcome to my neurotic universe". it's bizarre, because i know i don't have a big old case of the crazies-- this is normal, i am ok, and lord knows i give a lot of latitude when it comes to the rest of the human race actually being human. maybe this is what mary luna meant when she told me i needed to learn to be gentle with myself. and maybe this is a start. so, keep reading if you dare. heaven knows i can't keep from writing it all down, in some form or fashion. in the mean time ( oh G-d, there is a song in that phrase, i just know it...) i'm going to go make a pot of coffee and finish my magical work notebook.
mil besos--rmg
*in the mean time,
in between time,
oh there's a fine line
between where you are
and where you wish to be*
12 May 2005
a word about popular culture...
against the advice of "he who must be gratuitously footnoted and only occasionally obeyed", i am going to publish this post.
here's the deal, i have noticed a particular set of social ills that i fear must be addressed if we, as a civilized society, are going to achieve any progress beyond the ipod and aluminum foil. this is almost as important as the rant about why expansion teams aren't real and it's companion rant regarding the designated hitter. however, be advised that this rant may indeed hit a bit more close to home for all of you loyal blue-platters, because it's got nothing to do with major league sports at all. no, this time it's personal. this time, it's about porn.
that's right. i said it. porn. the pernicious evil that stalks and sours our minds. and i'm not just talking about "adult entertainment". it will be addressed, don't worry, but the side of porn about which i am most concerned is the emotional porn that hollywood churns out with wild abandon, the kind of porn you can take your little sister to watch and not feel like a perv. i'm not talking about movies like "naked nurses in space", etc. no, i'm talking about movies like "shakespeare in love" (oh, it hurt to write that. such a great movie...), "the notebook", and "notting hill".
here's my problem with porn, emotional or other wise. it's not real. it's fantasy. but there are people who know that on one level (like the level of "i'm sitting in this movie and watching this happen on a screen with fantastically good looking people who i also see on the cover of "people" and "us weekly" while i'm buying milk and toilet paper at the grocery") who fail to compute it on other levels. for example, i've heard not just one or two or three or even four of my nearest and dearest comment after watching such drivel (it's very, very good drivel, albeit very, very dangerous drivel) as "the notebook" or "garden state", "i wish a boy would love me like that..." in a wistful tone with misty, glossed over eyes. and that's when i realized that i had come face to face with emotional porn junkies. women who had bought into the lie that hollywood has created-- the perfect relationship.
you know the one i'm talking about. it goes something like this on the big screen:
boy meets girl, or girl meets boy.
boy and girl hook up.
boy and or girl cheats, dies, is maimed in some horrible accident, finds out they are switched at birth, knocks someone up or gets knocked up after a wild night of partying, etc.
boy and or girl makes sobbing confession, after which all is forgiven.
boy and girl ride off into the sunset and live happily ever after with no consequences, couples' counseling, or attachment issues.
and it goes something like this on the small screen, i.e.lifetime (television for women) movies...
girl is born into some kind of either very disturbingly normal or very disturbingly disfunctional family.
girl runs off to the big city/college/new town/career prospect to escape family or to hide that she's preggers.
girl meets extremely handsome man who seems too good to be true.
girl figures out that extremely handsome man IS too good to be true. she marries him anyway, has his child (who gets switched at birth, or needs a kidney, or almost dies in some bizarre way), and just before she gets put in the chipper shredder/sold off to pay mr. wonderful's gambling debts in sri lanka/has to be impregnated with alien spawn in some kind of twilight-zoney twist, she meets the less-handsome, but ever so normal and sweet and complying yard man/secret agent who's been trying to arrest her husband for 20 years/slightly retarded janitor at the hospital where her and mr. wonderful's child is being hidden.
girl is swept off her feet by mr. normal.
mr. wonderful gets sucked into the chipper-shredder in a freak accident/is finally eliminated for his sri lankan gambling debts by the sri lankan mafia/falls off his boat with frolicking with his mistress in key west and is eaten by sharks.
girl is free to marry mr. normal.
they live happily ever after in the nut hut ward of the hospital...or something like that.
i'd like to take a brief moment to point out that the likelihood of any of the scenarios actually taking place in real life is slim to none, people. i mean like one in maybe 8 billion. and there are only 6.5 billion people on the planet. thank God most of them can't get lifetime on their tv's. thank God most of the don't have tv's...but i do wish they had access to decent healthcare... Different rant...focus, must focus...
ok, so the evil that emotional porn does is this: it dumbs down relationships. it makes people doubt the authenticity of their individual experiences. it makes people feel kind of chicken-fingered (got that little adjective from esteban the boobarian) and helpless when their scenarios don't match up to the ones they see on screen, even though they know in some part of their heads that it's "not real". people on screen are always saying the perfect thing in situations, or wearing the perfect thing at events, or being the perfect hostess/ladyfriend/mother/sister/daughter/etc. and some how, we get caught up in that. we get caught up in thinking that our bodies, lives, careers, and relationships should some how match up to the screen plays that flood our minds. and sometimes, that is very destructive.
now, i'm not saying that movies are bad, or that made for tv movies are bad. not in and of themselves, anyway. i'm just saying that when we are presented with the pictures of seeming perfection on a day to day basis the way we seem to be in 2005 post 9-11 american society, we need to remind ourselves that it really is just a movie. and that our lives are really, really real, and there is not point at which we get a "take 2" on scene 5. and the way we do it, although it's broken, messy, scary, and sometimes painful, and even though our make-up slides right off at the very moment we don't want it to, it's ok. it's more than ok--it's real and it's beautiful.
that's really all i wanted to say.
thanks for reading, folks. see you soon. this time tomorrow, i will be neck-deep in the little blanco river. hooooooooray. and baby nels will be baptized on sunday. double hoooooray. i got him the best book ever. i can't wait to read it to him. life is good.
mil besos--r
here's the deal, i have noticed a particular set of social ills that i fear must be addressed if we, as a civilized society, are going to achieve any progress beyond the ipod and aluminum foil. this is almost as important as the rant about why expansion teams aren't real and it's companion rant regarding the designated hitter. however, be advised that this rant may indeed hit a bit more close to home for all of you loyal blue-platters, because it's got nothing to do with major league sports at all. no, this time it's personal. this time, it's about porn.
that's right. i said it. porn. the pernicious evil that stalks and sours our minds. and i'm not just talking about "adult entertainment". it will be addressed, don't worry, but the side of porn about which i am most concerned is the emotional porn that hollywood churns out with wild abandon, the kind of porn you can take your little sister to watch and not feel like a perv. i'm not talking about movies like "naked nurses in space", etc. no, i'm talking about movies like "shakespeare in love" (oh, it hurt to write that. such a great movie...), "the notebook", and "notting hill".
here's my problem with porn, emotional or other wise. it's not real. it's fantasy. but there are people who know that on one level (like the level of "i'm sitting in this movie and watching this happen on a screen with fantastically good looking people who i also see on the cover of "people" and "us weekly" while i'm buying milk and toilet paper at the grocery") who fail to compute it on other levels. for example, i've heard not just one or two or three or even four of my nearest and dearest comment after watching such drivel (it's very, very good drivel, albeit very, very dangerous drivel) as "the notebook" or "garden state", "i wish a boy would love me like that..." in a wistful tone with misty, glossed over eyes. and that's when i realized that i had come face to face with emotional porn junkies. women who had bought into the lie that hollywood has created-- the perfect relationship.
you know the one i'm talking about. it goes something like this on the big screen:
boy meets girl, or girl meets boy.
boy and girl hook up.
boy and or girl cheats, dies, is maimed in some horrible accident, finds out they are switched at birth, knocks someone up or gets knocked up after a wild night of partying, etc.
boy and or girl makes sobbing confession, after which all is forgiven.
boy and girl ride off into the sunset and live happily ever after with no consequences, couples' counseling, or attachment issues.
and it goes something like this on the small screen, i.e.lifetime (television for women) movies...
girl is born into some kind of either very disturbingly normal or very disturbingly disfunctional family.
girl runs off to the big city/college/new town/career prospect to escape family or to hide that she's preggers.
girl meets extremely handsome man who seems too good to be true.
girl figures out that extremely handsome man IS too good to be true. she marries him anyway, has his child (who gets switched at birth, or needs a kidney, or almost dies in some bizarre way), and just before she gets put in the chipper shredder/sold off to pay mr. wonderful's gambling debts in sri lanka/has to be impregnated with alien spawn in some kind of twilight-zoney twist, she meets the less-handsome, but ever so normal and sweet and complying yard man/secret agent who's been trying to arrest her husband for 20 years/slightly retarded janitor at the hospital where her and mr. wonderful's child is being hidden.
girl is swept off her feet by mr. normal.
mr. wonderful gets sucked into the chipper-shredder in a freak accident/is finally eliminated for his sri lankan gambling debts by the sri lankan mafia/falls off his boat with frolicking with his mistress in key west and is eaten by sharks.
girl is free to marry mr. normal.
they live happily ever after in the nut hut ward of the hospital...or something like that.
i'd like to take a brief moment to point out that the likelihood of any of the scenarios actually taking place in real life is slim to none, people. i mean like one in maybe 8 billion. and there are only 6.5 billion people on the planet. thank God most of them can't get lifetime on their tv's. thank God most of the don't have tv's...but i do wish they had access to decent healthcare... Different rant...focus, must focus...
ok, so the evil that emotional porn does is this: it dumbs down relationships. it makes people doubt the authenticity of their individual experiences. it makes people feel kind of chicken-fingered (got that little adjective from esteban the boobarian) and helpless when their scenarios don't match up to the ones they see on screen, even though they know in some part of their heads that it's "not real". people on screen are always saying the perfect thing in situations, or wearing the perfect thing at events, or being the perfect hostess/ladyfriend/mother/sister/daughter/etc. and some how, we get caught up in that. we get caught up in thinking that our bodies, lives, careers, and relationships should some how match up to the screen plays that flood our minds. and sometimes, that is very destructive.
now, i'm not saying that movies are bad, or that made for tv movies are bad. not in and of themselves, anyway. i'm just saying that when we are presented with the pictures of seeming perfection on a day to day basis the way we seem to be in 2005 post 9-11 american society, we need to remind ourselves that it really is just a movie. and that our lives are really, really real, and there is not point at which we get a "take 2" on scene 5. and the way we do it, although it's broken, messy, scary, and sometimes painful, and even though our make-up slides right off at the very moment we don't want it to, it's ok. it's more than ok--it's real and it's beautiful.
that's really all i wanted to say.
thanks for reading, folks. see you soon. this time tomorrow, i will be neck-deep in the little blanco river. hooooooooray. and baby nels will be baptized on sunday. double hoooooray. i got him the best book ever. i can't wait to read it to him. life is good.
mil besos--r
11 May 2005
fanciness and the briefest of confessions...
i am going to the ballet tomorrow, and i am so freaking excited i can't sit still. that could also be the diet coke i just pounded, but we'll stick with excitement for now. my friend kk called me yesterday with the exciting news that her non-profit had gotten some tix to see swan lake, and asked if i wanted to go. duh. i love the ballet. i love the fancy. i love bass concert hall. i love any excuse to dress up and go to a late supper and feel like a grown-up. and i do love swan lake. in fact, i've been driving by the sign everyday for two weeks wishing i were going, but a) i can't rationalize tickets to the ballet at this point in my fiscal year, and b) i don't want to go see a sad ballet by myself.
confession number 851: i am a control freak. there i said it. i have a deep and abiding need to be in control, or at least feel like i am in control. my frequently sited, but unnamed source and i had a long and drawn out conversation re: same last night. it was lots of things. see further comments...
the biggest part of my angst (i hate, hate, hate that word, btw) with job, life, etc. right now is that i don't feel like i'm the one calling the shots right now, and it makes me nuts. i know, i know, i work with junior high kids everyday, you'd think that control would not be a problem for me. like that i could just plan and execute at work, and once i got home i'd be a normal person. not the case. not the case at all. just ask my mother, who's had to deal with my control freak issues since about 5 seconds after i was born. pile my penchant for being totally self-sufficient on top of that, and you have a world class neurosis on your hands, friends and neighbors. that being said, i'd also like to say that i didn't yell at any one in traffic today. i didn't even use my horn. and i let someone buy me coffee today.
so there. now that you have this information, you must use it only for good. and you're not allowed to call me out, unless you can pair said calling out with something nice, as well. for example: "Rachel, you are spazzing out about this because you don't have total control. Git over yourself. You are a nice girl, but not all that important to the grand scheme of this particular situation. Now, let me buy you a nice chai latte--would you like soy milk or 2%?" see how easy that was?
tune in tomorrow when i try and formulate a rant to end all rants. the suspense is maddening...
mil besos-r
confession number 851: i am a control freak. there i said it. i have a deep and abiding need to be in control, or at least feel like i am in control. my frequently sited, but unnamed source and i had a long and drawn out conversation re: same last night. it was lots of things. see further comments...
the biggest part of my angst (i hate, hate, hate that word, btw) with job, life, etc. right now is that i don't feel like i'm the one calling the shots right now, and it makes me nuts. i know, i know, i work with junior high kids everyday, you'd think that control would not be a problem for me. like that i could just plan and execute at work, and once i got home i'd be a normal person. not the case. not the case at all. just ask my mother, who's had to deal with my control freak issues since about 5 seconds after i was born. pile my penchant for being totally self-sufficient on top of that, and you have a world class neurosis on your hands, friends and neighbors. that being said, i'd also like to say that i didn't yell at any one in traffic today. i didn't even use my horn. and i let someone buy me coffee today.
so there. now that you have this information, you must use it only for good. and you're not allowed to call me out, unless you can pair said calling out with something nice, as well. for example: "Rachel, you are spazzing out about this because you don't have total control. Git over yourself. You are a nice girl, but not all that important to the grand scheme of this particular situation. Now, let me buy you a nice chai latte--would you like soy milk or 2%?" see how easy that was?
tune in tomorrow when i try and formulate a rant to end all rants. the suspense is maddening...
mil besos-r
05 May 2005
you said it, man
neil young just came on the radio--- keep on rockin' in the free world.
you betcha, mister. you betcha.
you betcha, mister. you betcha.
round two, ding...
ok, i just finished with a rough draft of "everything you might need to know about the mess i made while i was working". it's six pages long. i need to go thru it and do revisions. i need to go through and do clarifications. i need to draft a companion document to explain all the acronyms, guilds, and committees that the poor idiot who comes after me will have to navigate. i'm hoping to keep the whole thing under 20 pages, but i'm not hopeful.
when i left my job in dc, i left a two-inch three ring binder, an entire zip disk, and several floppy disks worth of information for whoever came after me. it was incredible. all that whole year, i thought i had just been sending faxes, planning parties, and answering phones. putting that info together was cathartic, helpful, and uplifting. i'm hoping this will be a similar experience.
and just like andy dufresne says in the shawshank redemption, hope is a good thing--maybe the best thing.
now will someone please send me some funny email, because baby nels' mother just sent me the most depressing website i've ever seen...
mil besos--r
when i left my job in dc, i left a two-inch three ring binder, an entire zip disk, and several floppy disks worth of information for whoever came after me. it was incredible. all that whole year, i thought i had just been sending faxes, planning parties, and answering phones. putting that info together was cathartic, helpful, and uplifting. i'm hoping this will be a similar experience.
and just like andy dufresne says in the shawshank redemption, hope is a good thing--maybe the best thing.
now will someone please send me some funny email, because baby nels' mother just sent me the most depressing website i've ever seen...
mil besos--r
3,2,1 blast off!!
it's acsension day, people: a little known, but principle feast of the church, in which we celebrate Jesus blasting off into the clouds and his promise to come back and get us one day. it's a good time. i like that the germans refer to it as "christehimmelfaart". you can guess why. it's companion feast is "mariahimmelfaart", the ascension of mary (the bvm, not the girlfriend). i like that day, too. you can probably guess why, again.
so i made a mental note to myself last night at about 2am. i should not have two giant cups of coffee after 3pm. it makes for odd/not much sleep. on the other hand, it provided me with ample time to talk to the bvm's baby-daddy. that's God, in case you were wondering. i did more talking that i've done in the past. prolly should have spent more time listening, but since i was praying for rest, as well, when the urge hit, i fell right asleep. there is something nice about falling asleep while you're praying, even though you (or at least i) feel a little bit guilty for stalling out on my end of the conversation. at any rate, i feel better, even if i am a little on the sleepy side today.
i'm done for the moment. i'm sure i'll prolly post a little more later on today. i am incredibly bored at work today-- putting notes together for the next poor idiot that does my job. it's mildy interesting, but looking back at the year i've put in and the amount of actual work i have done is staggering. makes me tired to think about it, to be honest. but it makes me a little bit proud, too.
mil besos-r
so i made a mental note to myself last night at about 2am. i should not have two giant cups of coffee after 3pm. it makes for odd/not much sleep. on the other hand, it provided me with ample time to talk to the bvm's baby-daddy. that's God, in case you were wondering. i did more talking that i've done in the past. prolly should have spent more time listening, but since i was praying for rest, as well, when the urge hit, i fell right asleep. there is something nice about falling asleep while you're praying, even though you (or at least i) feel a little bit guilty for stalling out on my end of the conversation. at any rate, i feel better, even if i am a little on the sleepy side today.
i'm done for the moment. i'm sure i'll prolly post a little more later on today. i am incredibly bored at work today-- putting notes together for the next poor idiot that does my job. it's mildy interesting, but looking back at the year i've put in and the amount of actual work i have done is staggering. makes me tired to think about it, to be honest. but it makes me a little bit proud, too.
mil besos-r
04 May 2005
third time's a charm...
ok, so the headache was definately caffeine related.
hello, my name is rachel, and i am addicted to caffeine. there, i said it.
i have had two giant cups of coffee, and even though i still have allergy head, i no longer feel like i'm swimming through a pool of pancake syrup. that would be gross in real life. sick out.
i have moved on from leondard cohen-- bethy, i have no idea who taught you to be so freaking cool, kiddo, but i like to think i had something to do with it, even though i didn't. i guess you and your brother turned out fine, despite the fact that you lived in rochelle during most of your formative years, and then moved to the booming metropolis of lubbock. you must come from good stock.
at any rate, jack johnson is on the mp3 player now, so inspite of the fact that i have on a skirt and sit in an ergonmically balanced chair, i chair dancing like a maniac. thank G-d i finally got an office with a door. too bad the refrigerator lives in my office too, so people are in and out all the freaking time. oh the wonders of my job... screw it, i'm dancing anyway.
mil besos-r
hello, my name is rachel, and i am addicted to caffeine. there, i said it.
i have had two giant cups of coffee, and even though i still have allergy head, i no longer feel like i'm swimming through a pool of pancake syrup. that would be gross in real life. sick out.
i have moved on from leondard cohen-- bethy, i have no idea who taught you to be so freaking cool, kiddo, but i like to think i had something to do with it, even though i didn't. i guess you and your brother turned out fine, despite the fact that you lived in rochelle during most of your formative years, and then moved to the booming metropolis of lubbock. you must come from good stock.
at any rate, jack johnson is on the mp3 player now, so inspite of the fact that i have on a skirt and sit in an ergonmically balanced chair, i chair dancing like a maniac. thank G-d i finally got an office with a door. too bad the refrigerator lives in my office too, so people are in and out all the freaking time. oh the wonders of my job... screw it, i'm dancing anyway.
mil besos-r
since i can't think up something to say...
i'll just rip this off...
i found this a few weeks ago when i was looking for youth sunday material. it's amazing, and i wanted you guys to see it, as well...
Do not seek too much fame,
But do not seek obscurity.
Be proud.
But do not remind the world of your deeds.
Excel when you must,
But do not excel the world.
Many heroes are not yet born,
Many have already died.
To be alive to hear this song is a victory.
A Song from West Africa
i like this song for a lot of reasons, but mostly because i can just be me inside of it. there is something restful about that thought, and for today, it is enough.
mil besos--r
i found this a few weeks ago when i was looking for youth sunday material. it's amazing, and i wanted you guys to see it, as well...
Do not seek too much fame,
But do not seek obscurity.
Be proud.
But do not remind the world of your deeds.
Excel when you must,
But do not excel the world.
Many heroes are not yet born,
Many have already died.
To be alive to hear this song is a victory.
A Song from West Africa
i like this song for a lot of reasons, but mostly because i can just be me inside of it. there is something restful about that thought, and for today, it is enough.
mil besos--r
making it
that's what i'm shooting for, at this point. just making it. my allergies are killing me today. the smoke from mexico is making me feel like some serious run over poop today. i contemplated staying home today, but i knew i had a meeting at work, and some phone calls to make, and i would think about work, even if i weren't at work. so i put on my cute long red linen skirt and my favorite brown t-shirt from old navy and went to work. the meeting was good. long, but good. and now i have a headache. i probably haven't fed my caffiene beast enough today. i may go make a pot of coffee to remedy that situation shortly. like you needed to know that, but whatever.
i bought a leonard cohen cd yesterday. despite what baby nels' mother had to say about it, i am rather enjoying it. in fact, it's fairly brilliant and wonderful. lots of good lyrics, lots of good acoustic guitar. and the fact that mr. cohen's voice isn't overwhelming lets you really listen to what he's got to say. i like it. you should check it out on itunes, or something. sisters of mercy is an excellent track, as is chelsea hotel.
i wish i had something fabulous to say, but my allergy head prevents me from communicating anything profound at this point. i think i'm going to go buy some black and white disposable cameras and start snapping pictures for my bathroom graffitti book. i just have to figure out if i'm only going to shoot texas bathroom graffitti, or if i'm going to take it with me to tennesee on mission trip later this summer. it's going to mean staying pretty organized and writing down locations and exposure numbers on lots of notepads. probably also means having mini-essays about each place i stop. it may just turn into an extended blog entry, for all i know, but i have got to have a creative outlet at the moment, or my head might explode.
mil besos--r
i bought a leonard cohen cd yesterday. despite what baby nels' mother had to say about it, i am rather enjoying it. in fact, it's fairly brilliant and wonderful. lots of good lyrics, lots of good acoustic guitar. and the fact that mr. cohen's voice isn't overwhelming lets you really listen to what he's got to say. i like it. you should check it out on itunes, or something. sisters of mercy is an excellent track, as is chelsea hotel.
i wish i had something fabulous to say, but my allergy head prevents me from communicating anything profound at this point. i think i'm going to go buy some black and white disposable cameras and start snapping pictures for my bathroom graffitti book. i just have to figure out if i'm only going to shoot texas bathroom graffitti, or if i'm going to take it with me to tennesee on mission trip later this summer. it's going to mean staying pretty organized and writing down locations and exposure numbers on lots of notepads. probably also means having mini-essays about each place i stop. it may just turn into an extended blog entry, for all i know, but i have got to have a creative outlet at the moment, or my head might explode.
mil besos--r
02 May 2005
and we're back...
ok, after a two week break for r&r, i'm back on the blog-wagon. i know, i know, i promise to try and not leave you for this long with out an update ever again. think about how sad my real journal at home feels when it gets picked up after 3 months of silence on my part...
ok, ok, so the wedding was fabulous. it was a fam-fest, which was a good thing. highly entertaining is the correct wording. i also discovered the middle of nowhere. it's right on the border between mississippi and alabama, is about 250 miles long, has no cell phone service, or gas stations.
mia and archie's wedding was very nice, except for the giant woman in the little tiny bathing suit who walked by, not once but twice. seriously, why do people insist on squeezing size 24 asses into size 12 bathing suits? my uncle ed and i were talking about it, and he says "did you see that ole gal walking by? hell, it got dark for a minute, didn't it?" she was huge. and quite proud. geeze oh man. so the kids got married in the shadow of one of the largest asses i have ever personally seen. even bigger than mine. way bigger. and then we went to the party. it was very nice, as well.
along the way, i had a lot of time by myself in the car to think and listen to music. i'd like to tell you that i got a lot of things sorted out, but why would i lie? i'd like to tell you that i spent time thinking about world peace, how to eliminate world debt, and whether or not i really can spare 72 cents a day to sponsor a sally struthers kid, but why would i lie? no, i mostly thought about what good cd mixes i make, whether or not i should have packed one more pair of flip flops, if i needed a new shade of powder and concealer for the summer months, and whether or not i could rationalize getting a romance novel on tape at the next cracker barrel i passed, whether or not i will get married, which is totally relevant since i'm the last unmarried cousin of marriageable age on that side of the family, and two of the cousins on that side are already having babies with wild abandon, what names i think my soon-to-arrive niece or nephew should be called (i also called niece/nephew's parents several times to relay new and fun ideas). i also thought about why i like the beach so much, why i have trouble dealing with confrontation, and why i am feeling like poop about leaving a job i really don't like anymore.
here are some answers i came up with: 1) i do make very good cd mixes. i need to make more of them. i should do soundtracks for movies. 2) i packed the exact right amount of flip flops. i just wish i had remembered to pick up my black bamboo pair from the wedding house. goodbye cute black flip-flops. we had some good times. 3) i probably do need a new powder and concealer for the summer months, but only if i intend on maintaining a tan all summer long. 4) in order to take myself remotely seriously, i decided not to check out the romance novel on tape at cracker barrell. instead, i made myself listen to rush limbaugh and sean hannity and not swear out loud. additionally, see answer #1. 5) skip it, it's totally irrelevant. i'm fabulous regardless. 6) i am voting for stella for a girl and will for a boy. 7) i like the beach because i remember what a nice time we had as a family when i was little. 8) i have trouble dealing with confrontation because i have a horrible fear of being wrong and not being able to fix a situation. confrontation shuts me right down, so that instead of being able to effect change in a postive way, i just lay down and quit. not good, not good at all. there is much to do on that avenue of my life. i'll keep you posted. just don't pick a fight with me, ok? 9) i feel like poop about leaving because endings suck, because i know some people will be mad at me for leaving too soon, for leaving too late, or for leaving at all. i still have no idea what i'm going to be doing after july 31st, and that scares me to death and back again. i feel like poop about leaving because i know that where i work is about to go through a major transition, and i just can't be there any longer to help out. i'm just done. i can make it til july because i want to do that. because i want to finish what i started and do what i said i would do. i want to go on mission trips, because they are my favorite things in the whole wide world, and i don't want that taken away from me, or from the kids. blah.
i also had two fabulous ideas that i think will merit a marketing campaign. these are even better than give-a-shit, the vitamin supplement for people who could just care less.
1) jiffy lube should start offering a foley service for people who are going on long car trips. i could have made that trip in about 8 hours without bathroom stops.
2) i want to do a photo book (like a coffee table book) of bathroom graffiti from all over the country. it would be amazing. to whom would i pitch this idea? any takers?
that's about it. gigantic congrats to archie and mia. thanks for having me along. and gigantic thanks to pedro and inez, the official corporate sponsors of rachel's alabama adventure.
mil besos--r
ok, ok, so the wedding was fabulous. it was a fam-fest, which was a good thing. highly entertaining is the correct wording. i also discovered the middle of nowhere. it's right on the border between mississippi and alabama, is about 250 miles long, has no cell phone service, or gas stations.
mia and archie's wedding was very nice, except for the giant woman in the little tiny bathing suit who walked by, not once but twice. seriously, why do people insist on squeezing size 24 asses into size 12 bathing suits? my uncle ed and i were talking about it, and he says "did you see that ole gal walking by? hell, it got dark for a minute, didn't it?" she was huge. and quite proud. geeze oh man. so the kids got married in the shadow of one of the largest asses i have ever personally seen. even bigger than mine. way bigger. and then we went to the party. it was very nice, as well.
along the way, i had a lot of time by myself in the car to think and listen to music. i'd like to tell you that i got a lot of things sorted out, but why would i lie? i'd like to tell you that i spent time thinking about world peace, how to eliminate world debt, and whether or not i really can spare 72 cents a day to sponsor a sally struthers kid, but why would i lie? no, i mostly thought about what good cd mixes i make, whether or not i should have packed one more pair of flip flops, if i needed a new shade of powder and concealer for the summer months, and whether or not i could rationalize getting a romance novel on tape at the next cracker barrel i passed, whether or not i will get married, which is totally relevant since i'm the last unmarried cousin of marriageable age on that side of the family, and two of the cousins on that side are already having babies with wild abandon, what names i think my soon-to-arrive niece or nephew should be called (i also called niece/nephew's parents several times to relay new and fun ideas). i also thought about why i like the beach so much, why i have trouble dealing with confrontation, and why i am feeling like poop about leaving a job i really don't like anymore.
here are some answers i came up with: 1) i do make very good cd mixes. i need to make more of them. i should do soundtracks for movies. 2) i packed the exact right amount of flip flops. i just wish i had remembered to pick up my black bamboo pair from the wedding house. goodbye cute black flip-flops. we had some good times. 3) i probably do need a new powder and concealer for the summer months, but only if i intend on maintaining a tan all summer long. 4) in order to take myself remotely seriously, i decided not to check out the romance novel on tape at cracker barrell. instead, i made myself listen to rush limbaugh and sean hannity and not swear out loud. additionally, see answer #1. 5) skip it, it's totally irrelevant. i'm fabulous regardless. 6) i am voting for stella for a girl and will for a boy. 7) i like the beach because i remember what a nice time we had as a family when i was little. 8) i have trouble dealing with confrontation because i have a horrible fear of being wrong and not being able to fix a situation. confrontation shuts me right down, so that instead of being able to effect change in a postive way, i just lay down and quit. not good, not good at all. there is much to do on that avenue of my life. i'll keep you posted. just don't pick a fight with me, ok? 9) i feel like poop about leaving because endings suck, because i know some people will be mad at me for leaving too soon, for leaving too late, or for leaving at all. i still have no idea what i'm going to be doing after july 31st, and that scares me to death and back again. i feel like poop about leaving because i know that where i work is about to go through a major transition, and i just can't be there any longer to help out. i'm just done. i can make it til july because i want to do that. because i want to finish what i started and do what i said i would do. i want to go on mission trips, because they are my favorite things in the whole wide world, and i don't want that taken away from me, or from the kids. blah.
i also had two fabulous ideas that i think will merit a marketing campaign. these are even better than give-a-shit, the vitamin supplement for people who could just care less.
1) jiffy lube should start offering a foley service for people who are going on long car trips. i could have made that trip in about 8 hours without bathroom stops.
2) i want to do a photo book (like a coffee table book) of bathroom graffiti from all over the country. it would be amazing. to whom would i pitch this idea? any takers?
that's about it. gigantic congrats to archie and mia. thanks for having me along. and gigantic thanks to pedro and inez, the official corporate sponsors of rachel's alabama adventure.
mil besos--r
18 April 2005
'bout to bounce...
ok kids, i know it's going to be hard on you, but i'll be away for a whole week. it's vacation time at the beach, my lovelies. and it's time for another lovely Graves woman to get married. mia and archie will be celebrating their wedding on saturday. yay! i'll be sure and take copious notes so i can fill you in on all the details.
interesting conversation i had with a friend today re: hell. we both agree that we are probably going to end up there(at least for a little while, since we both laugh at completely inappropriate things, like when people fall down, etc.), and while being together is somewhat of a consolation, my friend totally shot down the idea that there would at least be good music in hell. my friend pointed out that yanni and john tesh would probably be there. that was a total buzzkill because i was kind of counting on being in the corner with the cool rockers (like jimi hendrix, or janis joplin). dammit.
i went to my favorite music store today. i gots to have some new tunes for the ride to the beach. i got some good ones. you should totally go get some brighteyes. he's fabulous. not as good as ray lamontagne (who i think should be played at least once a day), but still pretty good. i can't get behind the buzz of referring to him as the new dylan, but whatever.
i need to go home and do laundry and pack. i am so excited about this trip, but i hate packing. i really just hate it. i feel like i do nothing but pack and unpack and do laundry so i can pack again. i swear the smartest investment my mother ever made for me, short of my college education, was to buy a little samsonite shoulder bag. i love that thing. it's like 10 years old, but it's amazing. i can pack for a whole week in that thing, if i'm careful. i intend to be careful when i'm packing tonight. the worst part about being single on vacation is not having anyone to carry your bag for you. and that's all i have to say about that.
i'll expect copious phone calls while i'm gone.
mil besos-r
interesting conversation i had with a friend today re: hell. we both agree that we are probably going to end up there(at least for a little while, since we both laugh at completely inappropriate things, like when people fall down, etc.), and while being together is somewhat of a consolation, my friend totally shot down the idea that there would at least be good music in hell. my friend pointed out that yanni and john tesh would probably be there. that was a total buzzkill because i was kind of counting on being in the corner with the cool rockers (like jimi hendrix, or janis joplin). dammit.
i went to my favorite music store today. i gots to have some new tunes for the ride to the beach. i got some good ones. you should totally go get some brighteyes. he's fabulous. not as good as ray lamontagne (who i think should be played at least once a day), but still pretty good. i can't get behind the buzz of referring to him as the new dylan, but whatever.
i need to go home and do laundry and pack. i am so excited about this trip, but i hate packing. i really just hate it. i feel like i do nothing but pack and unpack and do laundry so i can pack again. i swear the smartest investment my mother ever made for me, short of my college education, was to buy a little samsonite shoulder bag. i love that thing. it's like 10 years old, but it's amazing. i can pack for a whole week in that thing, if i'm careful. i intend to be careful when i'm packing tonight. the worst part about being single on vacation is not having anyone to carry your bag for you. and that's all i have to say about that.
i'll expect copious phone calls while i'm gone.
mil besos-r
14 April 2005
thursday, part 2
ok, people. it's 3:55, i'm drinking my afternoon coffee and having some animal cookies (the frosted kind, not the plain kind) and pondering the fact that aretha franklin is a genius. she just knows exactly how to say things. i have been chair dancing a lot to day. it's a combination of factors really-- the cute haircut, my favorite blue shirt, and good music. oh, and let's not forget mind-numbing boredom and a total lack of work ethic.
the only thing that makes me half-way like doing paperwork is the fact that i get to use my new chococat pen. chococat is hello kitty's best friend, in case you didn't know. i have crossed off almost half of my gigantic to-do list. lord save us, i've been productive in spite of myself. dammit. i still want to be outside. boo hoo, poor me. at least after four years, they finally gave me an office with a door. baby steps, mi amigos, baby steps.
here's a conundrum i'd love have some insight toward: how to you tell a friend that you fear they might have just slipped from being a "chilled out person" into being a "champion of mediocrity" and that their vision of ministry and philosophy is so out of wack that you can't really have a productive conversation with them?
i'll be here until 7. you might even get three posts in one day. you'll only read them if you're half as bored as i am, though, i bet. after 7, i get to go home and clean house!! and pack!! yay!!
mil besos-r
the only thing that makes me half-way like doing paperwork is the fact that i get to use my new chococat pen. chococat is hello kitty's best friend, in case you didn't know. i have crossed off almost half of my gigantic to-do list. lord save us, i've been productive in spite of myself. dammit. i still want to be outside. boo hoo, poor me. at least after four years, they finally gave me an office with a door. baby steps, mi amigos, baby steps.
here's a conundrum i'd love have some insight toward: how to you tell a friend that you fear they might have just slipped from being a "chilled out person" into being a "champion of mediocrity" and that their vision of ministry and philosophy is so out of wack that you can't really have a productive conversation with them?
i'll be here until 7. you might even get three posts in one day. you'll only read them if you're half as bored as i am, though, i bet. after 7, i get to go home and clean house!! and pack!! yay!!
mil besos-r
public school?
ok, i'd like to address two instances of irritation i've had since friday. while driving an suv full of junior high children to the beach this weekend, somewhere between austin and cuero, i discovered that they had no idea who winston churchill was. i was shocked and dismayed. these kids are 6th and 7th graders, who've had social studies since the 2nd grade, and they all go to public school, which means that i pay for their education. and they don't know who winston churchill was. seriously people, what the hell? someone thought he had been in a band, and only one kid knew he "wasn't from here". geeze, louise. then last night, i'm doing one on one conferences with my high school children and i not only have to explain who karl marx was to one child, but i also have to explain the meaning of the word "vernacular" to the same kid. he's a freshman in high school. no idea about karl marx, no idea about basic vocabulary. and yes, this kid is a public school kid. dammit.
someone, please tell me what this means?
i'll be back later with more info...my hair looks fabulous, in case you were wondering.
two new expressions i picked up from friends yesterday that need to be noted in this venue:
"crotchular" in relation to a pant malfunction suffered by one of my girls recently. come on, we've all dealt with this, people.
"galloping dandruff" in relation to a "social disease" one might pick up from a mail order spouse.
see if you can work THOSE little gems into your conversations today, along with the venerable mr. churchill (when is manchester going to write his third volume already?) and vernacular.
end of message, mil besos--r
someone, please tell me what this means?
i'll be back later with more info...my hair looks fabulous, in case you were wondering.
two new expressions i picked up from friends yesterday that need to be noted in this venue:
"crotchular" in relation to a pant malfunction suffered by one of my girls recently. come on, we've all dealt with this, people.
"galloping dandruff" in relation to a "social disease" one might pick up from a mail order spouse.
see if you can work THOSE little gems into your conversations today, along with the venerable mr. churchill (when is manchester going to write his third volume already?) and vernacular.
end of message, mil besos--r
13 April 2005
some kind of itis
when i was in high school, my parents would refer to occasional moods and attitudes i displayed as "senior-itis". i even diagnosed myself with this same affliction a couple of times in college. ok, more than a couple. pretty much every friday in spring that i had money for beer and a tube rental for the river i would beg off on the grounds that i was suffering from senioritis, whether i was a senior or not. since i was never really a freshman, i reasoned it was fair enough. i guess senioritis is the same thing as spring fever...
i have a severe case of it today. i don't want to do ANYTHING but blow off work, go home and get a book and a towel, and head to barton springs to soak up some sun and be outside. i have a million and 87 things i need to be doing, and i just can't make myself buckle down for beans. spring fever strikes again. even reading about random inane information, which usually spurs me to do actual relevant work isn't doing the trick today. instead of steering me toward work, it's just irritating me, because i can't do what i want to do. sometimes being a responsible grown up is not fun. blah.
i'll live. i mean, i'm griping about delaying gratification, because this time next week, i'll be neck deep in the gulf of mexico, with a cooler full of adult beverages waiting for me on the shoreline. i love family weddings. more than that, i love destination family weddings. maybe one day i'll even have my own destination family wedding. that's a whole other blog for a whole other day.
i'm getting a hair cut tomorrow. like you needed to know that, right?
mil besos-r
i have a severe case of it today. i don't want to do ANYTHING but blow off work, go home and get a book and a towel, and head to barton springs to soak up some sun and be outside. i have a million and 87 things i need to be doing, and i just can't make myself buckle down for beans. spring fever strikes again. even reading about random inane information, which usually spurs me to do actual relevant work isn't doing the trick today. instead of steering me toward work, it's just irritating me, because i can't do what i want to do. sometimes being a responsible grown up is not fun. blah.
i'll live. i mean, i'm griping about delaying gratification, because this time next week, i'll be neck deep in the gulf of mexico, with a cooler full of adult beverages waiting for me on the shoreline. i love family weddings. more than that, i love destination family weddings. maybe one day i'll even have my own destination family wedding. that's a whole other blog for a whole other day.
i'm getting a hair cut tomorrow. like you needed to know that, right?
mil besos-r
12 April 2005
random bit of information
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cerealia
some of you know my penchant for the trivial. this is right up my alley. today, i'd like to remind each and every one of us of our roman/greek influences, everything from paved roads, indoor plumbing (praise G-d!), govermental archetypes (for which i am sometimes thankful), to the way western theology has evolved over two thousand years of Christian influence.
ceres was the roman godess of grain. in greece, she was known as demeter. her husband was her brother, jupiter (zeus in greece). their daughter proserpina (persephone in greece) was wooed away to become queen of the underworld, and cerealia commemorates Ceres' search for her daughter. apparently the festival was celebrated in several ways. one involved tying lit firebrands to the tails of foxes, and turning them loose in the circus maximus. the other involved a bunch of women dressed in white running around with lit torches. go figure. i don't know what the roman obsession with running and fire, or running with fire was, but it's a bleeding miracle that any of them lived to tell about it.
i guess if i were going to make a recommendation for how to celebrate cerealia today (which i wouldn't because everyone knows that you get sent straight to hell for that sort of thing, and by that sort of thing i mean celebrating a PAGAN holiday), i'd have to go with lighting up a giant 120 mentol (which i wouldn't because i quit, and because it's bad for you, and because it's not fancy at all) and eating a bowl full of chex mix (which you shouldn't eat because the dietary fiber content is negligible, the sodium content is astronmical, and it gives you horrible stinky garlic breath). and maybe drink something stiffer than a diet coke (but i can't, since the diocese passed all the dumb rules about drinking on the job).
it's going to be a long week...
mil besos-r
some of you know my penchant for the trivial. this is right up my alley. today, i'd like to remind each and every one of us of our roman/greek influences, everything from paved roads, indoor plumbing (praise G-d!), govermental archetypes (for which i am sometimes thankful), to the way western theology has evolved over two thousand years of Christian influence.
ceres was the roman godess of grain. in greece, she was known as demeter. her husband was her brother, jupiter (zeus in greece). their daughter proserpina (persephone in greece) was wooed away to become queen of the underworld, and cerealia commemorates Ceres' search for her daughter. apparently the festival was celebrated in several ways. one involved tying lit firebrands to the tails of foxes, and turning them loose in the circus maximus. the other involved a bunch of women dressed in white running around with lit torches. go figure. i don't know what the roman obsession with running and fire, or running with fire was, but it's a bleeding miracle that any of them lived to tell about it.
i guess if i were going to make a recommendation for how to celebrate cerealia today (which i wouldn't because everyone knows that you get sent straight to hell for that sort of thing, and by that sort of thing i mean celebrating a PAGAN holiday), i'd have to go with lighting up a giant 120 mentol (which i wouldn't because i quit, and because it's bad for you, and because it's not fancy at all) and eating a bowl full of chex mix (which you shouldn't eat because the dietary fiber content is negligible, the sodium content is astronmical, and it gives you horrible stinky garlic breath). and maybe drink something stiffer than a diet coke (but i can't, since the diocese passed all the dumb rules about drinking on the job).
it's going to be a long week...
mil besos-r
08 April 2005
something totally different
i figure life on longvallyelane.blogspot.com can sometimes read like one long random ramble about my life. that's because that's exactly what it is. but, i also imagine that sometimes you might want more from me, more hard hitting information, and fewer pms induced rants. because i care about what you want, or at least because i'm supposed to care what you want, i figured i'd expand on something i had to do for work earlier this week i'd also love, love, love if this could generate some conversation on the comments section., or at least tell me what you think. or if you just like the news and rants, minus any philosophical waxing. let me know and we'll see what we'll see. smooches--rmg
Prayer of Mother Teresa
Dear Jesus, help us to spread your fragrance everywhere we go.
Flood our souls with your spirit and life.
Penetrate and possess our whole being so utterly
That our lives may only be a radiance of yours.
Shine through us and be so in us
That every soul we come in contact with
May feel your presence in our soul.
Let them look up and see no longer us, but only Jesus.
Stay with us and then we shall begin to shine as you shine,
So to shine as to be light to others.
The light, O Jesus, will be all from you.
None of it will be ours.
It will be you shining on others through us.
Let us thus praise you in the way you love best
By shining on those around us.
Let us preach you without preaching,
Not by words, but by our example;
By the catching force-
The sympathetic influence of what we do,
The evident fullness of the love our hearts bear to you.
Amen
The Kalighat Home for the Destitute and Dying stands on the site of a temple dedicated to Kali, the Hindu goddess of death and destruction, in the midst of a city dedicated to that same goddess. Mother Teresa arrived in India in 1931, and began to help establish an incredible Roman Catholic presence in a country that had very little religiously in common with her church’s ideology. Nevertheless, Teresa began to do her work in the streets, in schools, in the sewage filled neighborhoods of Calcutta. Mother Teresa came to that city as a teacher, and in 1952 reclaimed the Kalighat Temple, and turned it into a haven for the poorest of the poor. She renamed it Nirmal Hriday (Pure Heart), and it was there that Mother Teresa began her life’s work and ministry. Helping poor Bengalis know that there was hope and care in a society that called them “untouchable”, Mother Teresa would walk up and down the aisles whispering to them in their native tongue that “God is here” and touch their foreheads with her small hands.
Now, i have some issues with the Catholic Church, and with overt proselyzation. But that discussion is for another day. The thing about this prayer and about this story that just leaves me in awe and amazement is that opening line-- Jesus, help us spread your fragrance all around. Think about that for a minute. Imagine being surrounded by death at every turn, surrounded by raw sewage when you step outside to get a breath of "fresh" air, and to still have the desire to pray for a new smell. What must Jesus smell like in that instance? I know that seems like a random question to ask, but really, what would you want to smell in the place of what was there. Smell is a powerful sense. It has the power to generate memories that are powerful in their intensity. Case in point--the smell of camay soap always reminds me of my great-grandmother's bathroom, and these funny little picture things she had hanging on the wall. The smell of coconut reminds me of the beach. The smell of gardenia reminds me of my mother. The smell of patcholi reminds me of the drag.
For me, were I to stand where Mother Teresa stood, Jesus would smell like several things. Jesus would like that moment between being asleep and awake, when you can almost smell breakfast, almost smell the fresh shampoo smell from last night's shower, almost smell the laundry sheet you dry your bed linens with. it's a smell that's almost nothing, but very definitely something. Almost overwhelming in its simplicity, but above all, comforting and so incredibly ordinary. Or maybe Jesus would smell like a wide open field after a good central texas rain, full of wild flowers--smelling sharply green, slightly sweet, and so clean you could eat off of it. Or maybe I'm reaching too far with this analogy, and have finally slipped into the sweet bliss of crazy. Who knows.
What I do know is that there are days when the sights, sounds, smells, and frenetic pace of life overwhelms each of us. I do know that there are days when we get so caught up in our own ambitions, intrigues, relationships, and disappointments that we forget the very basic necessity of breathing in and out. My yoga teacher (we hosted a class during let at the church) reminded us that breathing in and out is something we should concentrate on doing, that it's part of us loving ourselves. Prana is the Sanskrit word for "life-force", which is connected to breath, but is so much more than just breath. Our teacher told us to feel our prana when we breathed, to take time out every day to feel it, if only for a moment, that our breath and our bodies were alive. It's amazing how squaring back your shoulders and breathing all the way to your toes five or six times can change your entire attitude. And in opening up your lungs, in being mindful of the breaths we take, maybe, just maybe, we can smell Jesus. And maybe after we've done that, we can take that scent with us, and share it wherever we go.
mil besos--r
Prayer of Mother Teresa
Dear Jesus, help us to spread your fragrance everywhere we go.
Flood our souls with your spirit and life.
Penetrate and possess our whole being so utterly
That our lives may only be a radiance of yours.
Shine through us and be so in us
That every soul we come in contact with
May feel your presence in our soul.
Let them look up and see no longer us, but only Jesus.
Stay with us and then we shall begin to shine as you shine,
So to shine as to be light to others.
The light, O Jesus, will be all from you.
None of it will be ours.
It will be you shining on others through us.
Let us thus praise you in the way you love best
By shining on those around us.
Let us preach you without preaching,
Not by words, but by our example;
By the catching force-
The sympathetic influence of what we do,
The evident fullness of the love our hearts bear to you.
Amen
The Kalighat Home for the Destitute and Dying stands on the site of a temple dedicated to Kali, the Hindu goddess of death and destruction, in the midst of a city dedicated to that same goddess. Mother Teresa arrived in India in 1931, and began to help establish an incredible Roman Catholic presence in a country that had very little religiously in common with her church’s ideology. Nevertheless, Teresa began to do her work in the streets, in schools, in the sewage filled neighborhoods of Calcutta. Mother Teresa came to that city as a teacher, and in 1952 reclaimed the Kalighat Temple, and turned it into a haven for the poorest of the poor. She renamed it Nirmal Hriday (Pure Heart), and it was there that Mother Teresa began her life’s work and ministry. Helping poor Bengalis know that there was hope and care in a society that called them “untouchable”, Mother Teresa would walk up and down the aisles whispering to them in their native tongue that “God is here” and touch their foreheads with her small hands.
Now, i have some issues with the Catholic Church, and with overt proselyzation. But that discussion is for another day. The thing about this prayer and about this story that just leaves me in awe and amazement is that opening line-- Jesus, help us spread your fragrance all around. Think about that for a minute. Imagine being surrounded by death at every turn, surrounded by raw sewage when you step outside to get a breath of "fresh" air, and to still have the desire to pray for a new smell. What must Jesus smell like in that instance? I know that seems like a random question to ask, but really, what would you want to smell in the place of what was there. Smell is a powerful sense. It has the power to generate memories that are powerful in their intensity. Case in point--the smell of camay soap always reminds me of my great-grandmother's bathroom, and these funny little picture things she had hanging on the wall. The smell of coconut reminds me of the beach. The smell of gardenia reminds me of my mother. The smell of patcholi reminds me of the drag.
For me, were I to stand where Mother Teresa stood, Jesus would smell like several things. Jesus would like that moment between being asleep and awake, when you can almost smell breakfast, almost smell the fresh shampoo smell from last night's shower, almost smell the laundry sheet you dry your bed linens with. it's a smell that's almost nothing, but very definitely something. Almost overwhelming in its simplicity, but above all, comforting and so incredibly ordinary. Or maybe Jesus would smell like a wide open field after a good central texas rain, full of wild flowers--smelling sharply green, slightly sweet, and so clean you could eat off of it. Or maybe I'm reaching too far with this analogy, and have finally slipped into the sweet bliss of crazy. Who knows.
What I do know is that there are days when the sights, sounds, smells, and frenetic pace of life overwhelms each of us. I do know that there are days when we get so caught up in our own ambitions, intrigues, relationships, and disappointments that we forget the very basic necessity of breathing in and out. My yoga teacher (we hosted a class during let at the church) reminded us that breathing in and out is something we should concentrate on doing, that it's part of us loving ourselves. Prana is the Sanskrit word for "life-force", which is connected to breath, but is so much more than just breath. Our teacher told us to feel our prana when we breathed, to take time out every day to feel it, if only for a moment, that our breath and our bodies were alive. It's amazing how squaring back your shoulders and breathing all the way to your toes five or six times can change your entire attitude. And in opening up your lungs, in being mindful of the breaths we take, maybe, just maybe, we can smell Jesus. And maybe after we've done that, we can take that scent with us, and share it wherever we go.
mil besos--r
06 April 2005
i know, i know, i know
geeze, it's been a while. the office recently moved, and we've been without internet for a whole week. i felt like someone cut off my arms. it was awful. but we're back on line, and i feel much better.
let me tell you about the excitement in my life.
hot news item #1: sometime in either december or january, i will become a real-live official aunt. that's right, seth and monica are expecting. i am so freaking psyched about the impending arrival. it's going to be a long ass wait. i guess that will give me plenty of time to jockey for a god-parent spot, buy the kid lots of books and stock up on juicy fruit gum, which i think every aunt should have in her purse. i will also practice my skills on the baby nels, and hope i don't mess him up, either. yay.
hot news item #2: for those of you waiting with baited (live or dead?) breath on my D-Day decision, here's the jist... i'll totally be in austin for the forseeable future. what i'll be doing, that's the next big hurdle to cross. i can't say more than that at the moment, just know there are a ton of exciting opportunities presenting themselves. yay!!
hot news item #3: i found my first gray hair last week. there's no way it was anything but a gray hair. i know this because i pulled out a blonde hair and a brown hair to compare. this was all white and of a totally different texture than the rest of my hair. i pulled it out and threw it away. i thought about keeping it, and then changed my mind. it's not like keeping your first tooth...
hot news item #4: i finally got asked to a prom. i know, that's hard to believe, but when you date a younger man in high school, you are the one who does the asking. yeah, one of my freshmen boys asked me to got to his prom (he goes to a small high school, so their prom is open to everyone), but i'm pretty sure he was mostly joking. i got a big kick out of it, though. i did make sure and tell him that it was inappropriate, however. he said that he was renting a camoflage-patterned tuxedo, and if my professional ethics hadn't been enough to elicit a "no" from my very shocked and amazed lips, the thought of that tux would have done the trick. a camo tux-- what will they think up next?
hot news item #5-- i'm going to the beach with my junior high kids this weekend. yay beach, boo junior high hormones. i figured i will just threaten them with bodily harm and then ply them with sugary snacks to keep them in check. i'll let you know how that works out.
mil besos--r
let me tell you about the excitement in my life.
hot news item #1: sometime in either december or january, i will become a real-live official aunt. that's right, seth and monica are expecting. i am so freaking psyched about the impending arrival. it's going to be a long ass wait. i guess that will give me plenty of time to jockey for a god-parent spot, buy the kid lots of books and stock up on juicy fruit gum, which i think every aunt should have in her purse. i will also practice my skills on the baby nels, and hope i don't mess him up, either. yay.
hot news item #2: for those of you waiting with baited (live or dead?) breath on my D-Day decision, here's the jist... i'll totally be in austin for the forseeable future. what i'll be doing, that's the next big hurdle to cross. i can't say more than that at the moment, just know there are a ton of exciting opportunities presenting themselves. yay!!
hot news item #3: i found my first gray hair last week. there's no way it was anything but a gray hair. i know this because i pulled out a blonde hair and a brown hair to compare. this was all white and of a totally different texture than the rest of my hair. i pulled it out and threw it away. i thought about keeping it, and then changed my mind. it's not like keeping your first tooth...
hot news item #4: i finally got asked to a prom. i know, that's hard to believe, but when you date a younger man in high school, you are the one who does the asking. yeah, one of my freshmen boys asked me to got to his prom (he goes to a small high school, so their prom is open to everyone), but i'm pretty sure he was mostly joking. i got a big kick out of it, though. i did make sure and tell him that it was inappropriate, however. he said that he was renting a camoflage-patterned tuxedo, and if my professional ethics hadn't been enough to elicit a "no" from my very shocked and amazed lips, the thought of that tux would have done the trick. a camo tux-- what will they think up next?
hot news item #5-- i'm going to the beach with my junior high kids this weekend. yay beach, boo junior high hormones. i figured i will just threaten them with bodily harm and then ply them with sugary snacks to keep them in check. i'll let you know how that works out.
mil besos--r
24 March 2005
dave day
dave matthews is on my mp3 player-- live at luther college is such a great album. mad snaps to chase for letting me copy it onto my hard drive. just for the heck of it, i wore my pink boston hat today (ok, that's partially a lie, because i went to bed with wet hair last night, and it looks a little lumpy). the weather is clearing up, and i am going to listen to live music and hang out with my family tonight. life is good. oh, and a family of mourning doves has moved into the tree outside my bedroom window. they sang me to sleep two weeks ago, and it was a lovely thing.
you know, for the first time in a long time, i totally believe that everything is really going to be ok. regardless of any decision that gets made by me on April 1, everything is going to be ok. it's good to know that in my bones, again. mary's baby daddy (that's God, in case you were confused) and i had a long talk last night, which consisted mostly of me listening, and God listening. mother teresa said that was how she prayed, and i figure if it's good enough for her, i ought to at least give it a try.
easter is sunday. finally. this has been the longest lent ever, and i didn't even really give anything up. i added a couple of things, and tried to be mindful of a couple of things that needed attention, but this season has still just eaten my lunch. eaten it, threw it back up into my lunchbox, and hit me in the head with said lunchbox. sorry for the graphic discription, but seriously, as ted said in bill and ted's excellent adventure, "stange things are afoot at the circle k".
on an interesting side note, the divine ms. e and jax and i all had a very interesting conversation last night re: why europeans can get away with anything from having outrageously heinous body odor to smoking to using the metric system with reckless abandon simply based upon the fact that they are european. it's like the ultimate get out of jail free card for any faux pax you may make in American society (although they( the euros) would probably argue that we don't really have our own legit society, anyway). keep in mind, this only adds to my admiration of all things european (except for the b.o. part), i heart the euros and their quirky ways.
funny what you end up discussing on random wednesday nights, no?
jimi thing is on the radio, now, so i am going to chair dance and then get back to work.
happy easter. jesus loves you.
mil besos-r
you know, for the first time in a long time, i totally believe that everything is really going to be ok. regardless of any decision that gets made by me on April 1, everything is going to be ok. it's good to know that in my bones, again. mary's baby daddy (that's God, in case you were confused) and i had a long talk last night, which consisted mostly of me listening, and God listening. mother teresa said that was how she prayed, and i figure if it's good enough for her, i ought to at least give it a try.
easter is sunday. finally. this has been the longest lent ever, and i didn't even really give anything up. i added a couple of things, and tried to be mindful of a couple of things that needed attention, but this season has still just eaten my lunch. eaten it, threw it back up into my lunchbox, and hit me in the head with said lunchbox. sorry for the graphic discription, but seriously, as ted said in bill and ted's excellent adventure, "stange things are afoot at the circle k".
on an interesting side note, the divine ms. e and jax and i all had a very interesting conversation last night re: why europeans can get away with anything from having outrageously heinous body odor to smoking to using the metric system with reckless abandon simply based upon the fact that they are european. it's like the ultimate get out of jail free card for any faux pax you may make in American society (although they( the euros) would probably argue that we don't really have our own legit society, anyway). keep in mind, this only adds to my admiration of all things european (except for the b.o. part), i heart the euros and their quirky ways.
funny what you end up discussing on random wednesday nights, no?
jimi thing is on the radio, now, so i am going to chair dance and then get back to work.
happy easter. jesus loves you.
mil besos-r
21 March 2005
catching up
ok, sorry for the delay in game. i was a tad on the busy side last week, and am just now sitting down to go through emails and phone messages. blah. and next week, we get to move offices again. yeah, that's right. the week after easter, the church offices are moving across the street, again. i'd hate for you to think that i'm irritated by that. irritation is such a minor word to me, at the moment. i know, all i do is gripe and whine. i promise, after my beach trip(s), a) all will be revealed, and b) i will be in an exponentially better mood.
as of today, i am setting april 1st (yeah, i know it's april fools' day, but it's also baby austin's b-day) as my very own D Day. that's Decision Day, for those of you who may assign a different word to the letter D. like Dumb, or Dover, or Dipstick... but i digress.
ok, so camping trip. what a mess. i was shivering cold for almost 36 consecutive hours. i kept thinking about how excited i was about getting back to my warm little apartment and cranking the heater way up, taking a bath, and having an actual flush toilet, and was reminded that there are people who have not been warm in months, who have not had a bath in months, and who have to go to the bathroom in the streets where they sleep. sharing a little of their discomfort make me more aware of the blessings in my life, and a little more aware of their own humanity.
in other news, i had a 12 hour work day yesterday. i was very glad to get home, and not have to threaten to beat children. seriously. i do love them, but i don't understand why they can't sit still in church for 5 minutes. granted, i was even having a hard time sitting still by the end of things, but seriously. i guess it all relates back to a conversation i had with my dear mother on friday night-- most of the problems i have with society right now, including governmental issues, issues of politeness, issues of personal freedom, issues of political correctness, etc, all freaking boil down to parenting. if you'd like to hear more about that, lemme know, and i'll give you all you can stand. basically it boils down to the fact that i think it's a dirty rotten shame that parents make any effort to be friends with their children while they are still in the process of raising them. being friends with your children is a luxury you should not allow yourself until they are adults--for lots of reasons, but the biggest one being that they have no sense of how or why to respect authority because you've muddied the waters by being friends with them in the first place. arrggg!! i could go on and on, but i won't.
if you have the opportunity and the means, i have two must have suggestions for your springtime enjoyment, as well as a couple of just fun items to pick up.
one-- you must RUN, don't walk, and pick up the Ray Lamontagne cd "Trouble". i put it in my cd player in late january, and i haven't taken it out. it's that good. seriously. that skinny kid from maine can WAIL.
two-- you must RUN, don't walk, and pick up a book called "Mutant Message Down Under". holy crap, what a great book. i read it in like three sittings. it's amazing and wonderful. that's all i can say.
three-- (not a must have, but a cool thing) the scissor sisters' debut album is a hoot to listen to. track two is my favorite. and the bright eyes cd called "i'm wide awake, it's morning" is a good pick, as well. tracks 1, 2, and 6 are wonderful.
four-- call me next week after baby nel's mom and i make some fun candy. you will want some of this, trust me.
suffice it to say that all things shall be well (they have to be, because Dame Julian said so).
mil besos--r
as of today, i am setting april 1st (yeah, i know it's april fools' day, but it's also baby austin's b-day) as my very own D Day. that's Decision Day, for those of you who may assign a different word to the letter D. like Dumb, or Dover, or Dipstick... but i digress.
ok, so camping trip. what a mess. i was shivering cold for almost 36 consecutive hours. i kept thinking about how excited i was about getting back to my warm little apartment and cranking the heater way up, taking a bath, and having an actual flush toilet, and was reminded that there are people who have not been warm in months, who have not had a bath in months, and who have to go to the bathroom in the streets where they sleep. sharing a little of their discomfort make me more aware of the blessings in my life, and a little more aware of their own humanity.
in other news, i had a 12 hour work day yesterday. i was very glad to get home, and not have to threaten to beat children. seriously. i do love them, but i don't understand why they can't sit still in church for 5 minutes. granted, i was even having a hard time sitting still by the end of things, but seriously. i guess it all relates back to a conversation i had with my dear mother on friday night-- most of the problems i have with society right now, including governmental issues, issues of politeness, issues of personal freedom, issues of political correctness, etc, all freaking boil down to parenting. if you'd like to hear more about that, lemme know, and i'll give you all you can stand. basically it boils down to the fact that i think it's a dirty rotten shame that parents make any effort to be friends with their children while they are still in the process of raising them. being friends with your children is a luxury you should not allow yourself until they are adults--for lots of reasons, but the biggest one being that they have no sense of how or why to respect authority because you've muddied the waters by being friends with them in the first place. arrggg!! i could go on and on, but i won't.
if you have the opportunity and the means, i have two must have suggestions for your springtime enjoyment, as well as a couple of just fun items to pick up.
one-- you must RUN, don't walk, and pick up the Ray Lamontagne cd "Trouble". i put it in my cd player in late january, and i haven't taken it out. it's that good. seriously. that skinny kid from maine can WAIL.
two-- you must RUN, don't walk, and pick up a book called "Mutant Message Down Under". holy crap, what a great book. i read it in like three sittings. it's amazing and wonderful. that's all i can say.
three-- (not a must have, but a cool thing) the scissor sisters' debut album is a hoot to listen to. track two is my favorite. and the bright eyes cd called "i'm wide awake, it's morning" is a good pick, as well. tracks 1, 2, and 6 are wonderful.
four-- call me next week after baby nel's mom and i make some fun candy. you will want some of this, trust me.
suffice it to say that all things shall be well (they have to be, because Dame Julian said so).
mil besos--r
10 March 2005
and another thing...
ok, so since i can't really rant about what i truly want to rant about, i'll gripe and whine about something totally insignificant in the grand scheme of things. i still think this little item is adding to the downfall of western civilization as we know it, but i'll let you, my adoring public, make your own decision... after i've told you what i think, of course.
baseball is God's favorite sport, and since i love God, it's my favorite sport (next to shopping), too. although, i'm pretty sure if those boys don't quit juicing, the Big Umpire in the Sky might send down some of what we like to call wrath... as a result, i have several opinions about the game. the thing about expansion teams is just a glimpse into it...
the designated hitter rule is one of the things i despise in life. i don't mean that i'm just generally irritated by it, like how i'm generally irritated by the fact that everytime i go out, i invariably walk by at least one person covering up their oniony b.o. by having steeped themselves in patchouli oil like some kind of hippie teabag. don't get me wrong--i like patchouli, but seriously people, do you have to make my eyes water on two counts? just take a bath. no, no, i find the dh rule personally offensive, the way i find it personally offensive when someone uses the word "your" when "you're" is the correct word. it bothers me on a very deep and fundamental level that almost defies words-- in fact, it bothers me in a way that damn near transcends all rational emotion. yeah, that's bad.
one of my male friends, who disagrees with me over the rules of the universe and how they govern the realness of sports teams (there's no accounting for taste...), has this to say about the DH rule: " Designated hitters suck. The rule allows overweight, defensive-deficient losers to make millions of dollars." i agree with him. the whole principle of the designated hitter is anathema to any true baseball fan. i'm real sorry if you disagree, but you're just plain wrong.
there is nothing ok about having one person on the team do nothing but hit (even though i realize that other important activities take up a lot of time in a game, spitting and scratching DO NOT count as multitasking in this situation). everyone else has to do something besides hit but the DH, and don't even get me started on pitchers. what a bunch of high-priced cry babies. and in a World Series, the DH doesn't even play in (some cases) half of it. they should get like a world series drop pendant, instead of a ring, or they should have to have a time share with the weenie-poo pitchers.
yeah, that's right, i said it. and tomorrow, i may just write something about why i think it's stupid to have salary caps for teachers at like 50k, or 40k, or even 35k in some school districts, but we as a society have no problem at all setting a salary cap of millions of dollars for a bunch of people who run around in tight pants and play games where you hit and chase things.
good night, my lovelies. i'm off to another meeting...
mil besos-rachel
baseball is God's favorite sport, and since i love God, it's my favorite sport (next to shopping), too. although, i'm pretty sure if those boys don't quit juicing, the Big Umpire in the Sky might send down some of what we like to call wrath... as a result, i have several opinions about the game. the thing about expansion teams is just a glimpse into it...
the designated hitter rule is one of the things i despise in life. i don't mean that i'm just generally irritated by it, like how i'm generally irritated by the fact that everytime i go out, i invariably walk by at least one person covering up their oniony b.o. by having steeped themselves in patchouli oil like some kind of hippie teabag. don't get me wrong--i like patchouli, but seriously people, do you have to make my eyes water on two counts? just take a bath. no, no, i find the dh rule personally offensive, the way i find it personally offensive when someone uses the word "your" when "you're" is the correct word. it bothers me on a very deep and fundamental level that almost defies words-- in fact, it bothers me in a way that damn near transcends all rational emotion. yeah, that's bad.
one of my male friends, who disagrees with me over the rules of the universe and how they govern the realness of sports teams (there's no accounting for taste...), has this to say about the DH rule: " Designated hitters suck. The rule allows overweight, defensive-deficient losers to make millions of dollars." i agree with him. the whole principle of the designated hitter is anathema to any true baseball fan. i'm real sorry if you disagree, but you're just plain wrong.
there is nothing ok about having one person on the team do nothing but hit (even though i realize that other important activities take up a lot of time in a game, spitting and scratching DO NOT count as multitasking in this situation). everyone else has to do something besides hit but the DH, and don't even get me started on pitchers. what a bunch of high-priced cry babies. and in a World Series, the DH doesn't even play in (some cases) half of it. they should get like a world series drop pendant, instead of a ring, or they should have to have a time share with the weenie-poo pitchers.
yeah, that's right, i said it. and tomorrow, i may just write something about why i think it's stupid to have salary caps for teachers at like 50k, or 40k, or even 35k in some school districts, but we as a society have no problem at all setting a salary cap of millions of dollars for a bunch of people who run around in tight pants and play games where you hit and chase things.
good night, my lovelies. i'm off to another meeting...
mil besos-rachel
09 March 2005
the rules of the universe
ok, i've tried to explain this to two of my male friends, and they just can't seem to get their heads around this concept. let me just preface this explanation by saying that these rules are very important. in fact, they may be the only thing that keeps the space/time contiuum in tact. they are not to be questioned, just to be accepted and obeyed.
there are two kinds of sports teams: real teams and expansion teams. real teams come into being when either a major league of something (football, baseball, basketball, soccer, etc.) is formed, or when a collegiate conference is formed (like the ACC, etc.) all teams that are considered charter members of those entities are deemed real. you can cheer for them, buy their merchandise, go to their games, even proclaim yourself a fanatic. they are the only ones who can legitimately win a title. for instance, big snaps to the diamondbacks for winning that world series title two years ago, but it wasn't real. they are an expansion team. that's the rule.
additionally, a team that began as a founding member can loose it's status as a founding member if it leaves the conference for another, or departs for another city. for example-- the brooklyn dodgers were a real team, but the los angels dodgers are not. likewise, the houston oilers were a real team, but the houston texans are not.
you can also gain or loose status by your rate of suckage. for instance, the dallas cowboys are in danger of becoming a fake team because they suck so badly. conversely, because they have sucked since almost time out of mind, the redskins will always be real. cleveland, although it sucks as well, is not a real team because it left and came back. that's worse than just leaving. plus, they loose points for having a color as their mascot and for having ugly uniforms. like i said, these are the rules. our job is to just accept them.
a team may also gain real status by procuring a dynasty-- like if san antonio were to win the nba title again this year, they would become real. kind of like the veleveteen rabbit. for instance: chicago became a real team because they won four straight titles in a row in basketball. you have to be really really loved and really really awesome to become real. it also helps if there is scarlett fever or cholera involved.
let me further illustrate the point:
the dodgers aren't a real team-- they are an expansion team. you can still like them. it's lame, but you can still like them. however, if they were to play in a world weries against the yankees or the sox (Red, not White, because the White Sox lost their realness when they let Shoeless Joe take the fall), you'd be obligated to cheer for the real team (i.e. the Yanks, even though that would be like drinking turpentine and peeing on a brushfire, as far as i'm concerned). why aren't the real anymore? because no one leaves new york, ever. and certainly no one ever leaves Ebbetts Field, a cathedral of baseball, for the lameness of Los Angeles. It's worse than saying bad things about one's mother. You know what they did to Ebbetts Field? They tore it down. There's probably a 7-11 or a Dunkin'Donuts there, now. Shameful.
it sucks, but it's the law.
--rachel
there are two kinds of sports teams: real teams and expansion teams. real teams come into being when either a major league of something (football, baseball, basketball, soccer, etc.) is formed, or when a collegiate conference is formed (like the ACC, etc.) all teams that are considered charter members of those entities are deemed real. you can cheer for them, buy their merchandise, go to their games, even proclaim yourself a fanatic. they are the only ones who can legitimately win a title. for instance, big snaps to the diamondbacks for winning that world series title two years ago, but it wasn't real. they are an expansion team. that's the rule.
additionally, a team that began as a founding member can loose it's status as a founding member if it leaves the conference for another, or departs for another city. for example-- the brooklyn dodgers were a real team, but the los angels dodgers are not. likewise, the houston oilers were a real team, but the houston texans are not.
you can also gain or loose status by your rate of suckage. for instance, the dallas cowboys are in danger of becoming a fake team because they suck so badly. conversely, because they have sucked since almost time out of mind, the redskins will always be real. cleveland, although it sucks as well, is not a real team because it left and came back. that's worse than just leaving. plus, they loose points for having a color as their mascot and for having ugly uniforms. like i said, these are the rules. our job is to just accept them.
a team may also gain real status by procuring a dynasty-- like if san antonio were to win the nba title again this year, they would become real. kind of like the veleveteen rabbit. for instance: chicago became a real team because they won four straight titles in a row in basketball. you have to be really really loved and really really awesome to become real. it also helps if there is scarlett fever or cholera involved.
let me further illustrate the point:
the dodgers aren't a real team-- they are an expansion team. you can still like them. it's lame, but you can still like them. however, if they were to play in a world weries against the yankees or the sox (Red, not White, because the White Sox lost their realness when they let Shoeless Joe take the fall), you'd be obligated to cheer for the real team (i.e. the Yanks, even though that would be like drinking turpentine and peeing on a brushfire, as far as i'm concerned). why aren't the real anymore? because no one leaves new york, ever. and certainly no one ever leaves Ebbetts Field, a cathedral of baseball, for the lameness of Los Angeles. It's worse than saying bad things about one's mother. You know what they did to Ebbetts Field? They tore it down. There's probably a 7-11 or a Dunkin'Donuts there, now. Shameful.
it sucks, but it's the law.
--rachel
08 March 2005
tuesday
i remember last night having some profound thought and thinking-- wow, i should totally blog about that tomorrow. for the life of me, i can't remember what that thought was. so now, all you get to hear about is how i wish there were a margarita machine in the work room. and a deck of the back of the work room. i would be on the deck, well on my way to a buzz by now. this has been the longest day. i swear, seriously. i didn't even get here until 10:15, and it still feels like i've been here since i was like 12. we even had cake in staff meeting. you'd think that would have pacified me a little bit. no, no, all it did was give me a big sugar rush, followed closely by a carb coma. damn that cake.
i have nothing especially exciting to report. baby nels (who i personally think bears some resemblance to winston churchill (but what baby doesn't, really?)) lost his bellybutton stump last night. i was kind of grossed out, but it was sort of nice to be there for that momentous event. his father, mr. nels, said that it looked like there was peanut butter in his bellybutton hole. that grossed mrs. nels and i out a little bit.
other than that, nothing remarkable to report. i'll keep you posted.
see on the flippy...
mil besos--r
i have nothing especially exciting to report. baby nels (who i personally think bears some resemblance to winston churchill (but what baby doesn't, really?)) lost his bellybutton stump last night. i was kind of grossed out, but it was sort of nice to be there for that momentous event. his father, mr. nels, said that it looked like there was peanut butter in his bellybutton hole. that grossed mrs. nels and i out a little bit.
other than that, nothing remarkable to report. i'll keep you posted.
see on the flippy...
mil besos--r
01 March 2005
you, you with the chair, quit the dancing!!!
it's almost spring. i am so greatful for that. i don't care what anyone says, i don't think april is the cruelest month, at all. i think it's going to be a lovely spring, all drama and blahness aside.
in other news, i am so bored at work today that i might just curl up and die. i have a ton of bible study stuff that i should be writing, phone calls i should be making, plans i should be firming up or cancelling, and soem stuff to put in the mail. so i will likely focus on that this afternoon, after staff meeting. which is about as much fun as a staph infection. no, seriously. i'm not kidding. it's so hard to sit through these meetings, especially now. gross. so to keep myself somewhat sane and happy, i have been listening to my favorite jams on the old mp3 player, and chair dancing. have to be careful with that today, since it's a skirt day.
i forgot to mention that when i was driving back from new orleans last weekend, there was a stretch of road between baton rouge and lafayette that had just been re-striped. whoever was painting those stripes must have stopped at the drive-thru daquiri place, because they a) weren't even in the middle of the road, and b) wobbled at the beginning and end of each stripe. it was kind of funny to see, and wonder what the guy or gal who painted those stripes must have been thinking about while they were painting. what a weirdo.
oh, i need to pay bills, since i got paid yesterday. (yay, payday!!) i am doing my best to be a good american by putting the bulk of my funds back into recirculation as soon as possible. yay capitalism. whoo hooo.
sorry for the boring post. it's a tuesday, what can i say?
mil besos--rachel
in other news, i am so bored at work today that i might just curl up and die. i have a ton of bible study stuff that i should be writing, phone calls i should be making, plans i should be firming up or cancelling, and soem stuff to put in the mail. so i will likely focus on that this afternoon, after staff meeting. which is about as much fun as a staph infection. no, seriously. i'm not kidding. it's so hard to sit through these meetings, especially now. gross. so to keep myself somewhat sane and happy, i have been listening to my favorite jams on the old mp3 player, and chair dancing. have to be careful with that today, since it's a skirt day.
i forgot to mention that when i was driving back from new orleans last weekend, there was a stretch of road between baton rouge and lafayette that had just been re-striped. whoever was painting those stripes must have stopped at the drive-thru daquiri place, because they a) weren't even in the middle of the road, and b) wobbled at the beginning and end of each stripe. it was kind of funny to see, and wonder what the guy or gal who painted those stripes must have been thinking about while they were painting. what a weirdo.
oh, i need to pay bills, since i got paid yesterday. (yay, payday!!) i am doing my best to be a good american by putting the bulk of my funds back into recirculation as soon as possible. yay capitalism. whoo hooo.
sorry for the boring post. it's a tuesday, what can i say?
mil besos--rachel
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