Is It Just Us?

Is anyone else in this area having trouble with pages loading slowly, or not coming up at all? We're on Chickasaw's DSL and we're not sure if it's just us, or not.

This picture is a map of the internet, as realized last June by Bar Ilan University in Israel. It's beautiful, but looking at it I have to tell myself to be patient if things hang up from time-to-time.

A Final Farewell

The only thing of any monetary value that mother owned when she died in December of 2004 was her teal, 1996 Ford Contour. She was so proud of that car because she bought it three years after Dad died; the first and only car she purchased for herself in her entire life. I was there when she bought it and she was so excited.

When we brought her here to live with us after her stroke in 2000, it became our family car since she could no longer drive, and after her death we continued to nurse it through various problems it acquired, new brake pads, tires, oil leaks and etc. It was in this car that I drove her to her physical therapy and doctor appointments, to the ER when she got an especially virulent bladder infection, to the nursing home after her last hospital stay, and back home three months later. It was the car I drove her in when I brought her here from Denver. I can't count how many times I lugged her wheelchair in and out of the trunk. When she wanted her own apartment, it was this car that I filled with her belongings. I even tied her mattress to the roof. The car got a lot of mileage, and not only those that turned over the odometer.

Early last month it broke down in Guthrie on our way to OKC and it has been in a garage ever since. Today the mechanic called and told me that the car needed a new engine (which didn't surprise me as I'd sunk $1500 into it last year). I knew it was time to say goodbye to this faithful member of the family.

I don't get hung-up on cars. Not really. I've had several come and go and there have been some that I truly loved, like my '78 Gremlin, or my VW van, or my '97 Jeep Cherokee, but when the garage owner offered to buy the Ford for scrap, I admit that I shed a few tears. It wasn't hard for me to understand why. It's the final farewell to my mom. I identified that car with her so much that on some weird level I feel like I'm selling her memory for scrap. Thursday will be a funeral of sorts, but I know that it's something I have to do.

Batali Madness

I dreamed that I was running around some large city with chef Mario Batali. He kept saying that we had to make a Beurre Blanc and that he needed special ingredients for it. I told him there were no special ingredients, only butter, shallots and white wine, but he insisted and kept taking off ahead of me. And god, he was wearing his Crocs.

Why the hell did I dream that? Why do I have any of the weird-ass dreams that I'm known for? It makes me wonder sometimes if we don't actually run into other dreamers when we're deeply embedded in our own.

This Week's Mensa Test

You all seemed to enjoy last week's Mensa Test so much, I've decided to give you a new one each Monday. Here's this week's:

The items in each group below share one feature in common. It has nothing to do with vowels, consonants or syllables. Can you find the common factor in each group of items?

GROUP #1

• Wheel
• Tire
• Manhole Cover
• Globe

GROUP #2

• Plums
• Walnuts
• Apples
• Maple Leaves

Listening Out Loud

We hear a great deal throughout our day, but few of us really listen. Our ears kind of go on auto pilot and we instinctively pay attention only to those sounds that trigger our defense mechanisms: Am I too close to that car? Are those footsteps behind me getting closer? Is that the ice cream truck?

Of course, there are many sounds that simply intrude on our aural experience of the day: that other guy's car stereo, cell phones, etc., but when those things are out of the picture, we pretty much go through our day listening to the sounds in our head, the brain chatter we each are subjected to.

But hearing and listening are different things. One is automatic while the other is something some of us brought with us and few people understand. Some of us listen out loud. Some of us brought this faculty with us and some acquired it after the fact, so I'm not sure if it's a condition of nature vs. nurture or not.

I've always been accused of being absent-minded, but that's just not true. My brain just perceives the cacophony of sounds around me, from the high-pitched squeal that comes from florescent lights to the annoying sound of someone eating, even people with fine table manners (it's the actual mastication that bothers me, especially when someone's eating chips or other crunchy food).

When I was a child I assumed everyone heard life like I did and it puzzled me when I found out that that just wasn't true. My family's brows crumpled on countless occasions when I'd ask, "Did you hear that?" when no one else had heard anything. My mother's constant, "You're hearing things" implied that I heard things that weren't there, although I proved her wrong more times than not. I've said many times that my experience of life is an aural one, not only visual. I not only see things going on around me, I hear everything.

One friend said many years ago (in an exasperated tone), "You go to the Hallmark store to buy a card and you buy a card. I go, and I see the people in the mall, the plants, the colors in the shop windows..." What could I say? She was right. But what she didn't know was that I was hearing the stroller wheels clickity-clicking on the tile floor, the echo of the voices in the mall, the splash of water as the gardener tended the potted palms, the wind chimes in Raj of India, and the distinctive clip-clop sound made by the heels of certain shoes worn by elderly women.

It's never been about listening out loud as an exercise, it's just always been there, annoying at times, certainly distracting, nearly esoteric and always exciting. I told you in an earlier entry that I also have synesthesia ("...a neurologically-based phenomenon in which stimulation of one sensory or cognitive pathway leads to automatic, involuntary experiences in a second sensory or cognitive pathway"). Simply put, I see color when I hear music. It's not some weebie-wobie, magical gift. In fact, it's carried by the Y chromosome so it's more common in women than in men, although Schubert had it (he likened the key of E-major to a red carnation on a white dress), as does Andre Previn.

In the 80s when I discovered that this had a name, I experimented with it in my favorite bar, racking up the balls when I played pool according to the piece of music I was currently composing. The 1-ball was yellow, which to me is C-major. For example, if I was currently composing in the key of C, I'd put the 1-ball front and center and build behind it with the colors that corresponded to the sub-dominant, dominant, sub-mediant, relative minor and etc. The striped balls were the sharped and flatted keys. Whenever I organized the balls in this fashion, I always won. Always. I won a lot of free beers that way. Whenever I used keys I was not currently working with, I lost. I have witnesses who read this blog, so don't tell me it didn't happen.

Anyway, the point of all this is to lay out a preface for what I experienced yesterday evening.

I'm not one of those people who watch movies through the microscope of myself and my experiences. You'll never hear me say, "Oh, that's me!" I like to lose myself in the characters' lives and forget about me for a while. That's why when we watched August Rush yesterday, seeing my experience of expanded musical awareness in the main character's own was so overwhelming for me. I didn't feel alone, you see. True, I wasn't orphaned (the plot is basically "Oliver", with a twist--pun intended), but I experienced the loneliness he did, as well as the abuse from people who didn't, couldn't, or wouldn't understand.

Growing up, and all the way into my 30s, I felt that I was special, that music had picked me out somehow. But as we get older, life tends to knock that out of us, whatever our gift is. People do everything in their power to tell us that we're quite the opposite of special, that we don't hear anything and that our experience is a lie. As in the movie, I left music. As in the movie, it has been ten years. And as in the movie, I want to get back to it. It was the one place where I felt safe and that I belonged. And despite people telling me I was a freak, it was the one place where, paradoxically, I felt normal.

Austen Revisited

There's a bike trail that follows a creek behind the office. I found it by accident last Tuesday when I went exploring during my lunch hour. When I discovered it, it was like I got sucked into a Jane Austen novel or something, because I was listening to my MP3 player and "My Father's Favorite" from Sense & Sensibility (composed by Patrick Doyle) came on. It's a beautiful piece of music and it magically transported me to the English countryside.

As I walked along the path, I heard songbirds, I stopped to watch the creek, and I looked up at the canopy of trees against the gray, misty sky. There is a little park bench down there that I sat on for a while, enjoying just being there. Here is the music that brought a little magic into an otherwise normal working day. Please do not watch the video! It's so cheesy that I shrunk it down to an almost unviewable size. Just listen to the music (unfortunately, this clown also added voices, but you can still hear that it's a beautiful piece).

"Who Am I?" No. 1

"Today, I'm a well-known celebrity. Back in 1980, however, I became a U.S. Marine and served for six years. I previously attended a noted university, but was expelled twice. I've worked as a bank teller and a waiter at Denny's. Who am I?"
________________________
SPOILER ALERT: Make your guess before you open the comments. Ville got it right on the first try. Also, don't look at the Recent Comments feature in the sidebar.

I Don't Know How to Dress

I never really know what to wear to work on days like today. Our indoor temperature is perfect (thanks to the AC man, who paid us a visit on Tuesday) and the weather station says that it will be in the low-80s, but looking out the window, I see nothing but the gray sky and wet ground of a series of thunder storms that plowed through last night.

Fortunately, the office (unlike others I've worked in) is kept perfectly comfortable, just the temp that I like.

It's confusing when it looks cold outside, but when I actually step out, it's humid, muggy, and threatening to turn hot.

Not that this matters. I'm just sayin'.

Here's A Thing

There's a calendar at work that has a different Mensa test for each day. I thought some of them were fun. Here's one for you.

Find the names of three non-US cities that are hidden in the sentences below. (The letters are in consecutive order):

"Steven, I centered the whole trip on your wishes. It is base logic to blame me."

"The Second World War saw much destruction."

Please Rot-13 your answers.
(Answer will be given tomorrow morning sometime)

MapJack

Wow! This is so very cool! Major hat-tip to Lynn.

The Wall

This is playing hell with my Hashimoto's. It's not just the adherence to the routine (although that's hard, too), it's the constant stress of... NEVER KNOWING WHAT THE HELL I'M DOING!

I'm a perfectionist: I'm hard on myself and a few hours of "training" are not enough to learn the intricacies of this job, who gets what, and memorizing the minutia of thousands of products. I'm a temp. Why do I put this much stress on myself? Why do I feel like I have to do my job as well as someone who has been with the company since its inception?

Meantime, my body is paying the price. And I'm not even half-way through. Maybe I'm just hitting that wall that invariably comes with learning something new and today I'll experience a breakthrough. I hope this is the case.
__________________________
UPDATE 12:36pm: High blood pressure and mild left chest discomfort made me decide to come home. I feel like a wuss.

Brain Dead Tetris Head

My brain doesn't do this in the morning. The pieces just don't fall into place. Even writing this takes monumental effort on my part. It's not that I mind working, or being gone all day, or any of that. I don't even mind being awake—I don't like sleeping. It's just that rude, intrusive waking up that I hate.

Nettl understands all this about me (she's one of those annoying people who actually wakes up with a smile on a face that's never been crumpled up with the morning scowl that mine wears every day at 6:15 am). She wakes up looking as fresh as the proverbial daisy. She wakes me with kisses and soft fingers in my hair, sometimes a back scratch, then goes downstairs and makes my coffee.

"Okay Brat, the bathroom's yours."

Okay, that kind of messes me up.

How Come?

So Nettl bought me some Oscar Mayer Lunchables for work. Because I don't drive to work and there's nowhere to eat out here (except El Tapatio), I've been bringing "snacky" things for lunch.

These things are great because I don't have to stand in the kitchen early in the morning slicing stuff with sharp "implements of destruction" when I'm bleary-eyed and half-asleep.

But I have one question. Why did they give an extra slice of turkey? Shouldn't there be the same number of cheese, turkey and crackers?

Time to Upgrade

It seems that IE6 users sometimes have problems seeing the text in my posts. Like the last two (not that they were earth-moving). There is an IE7 you can get for free.

This is really just a test post so that I can see if it's viewable (my work computer has IE6).

What Weekend?

I put in 14 hours on my new client's site on Saturday and today I put in 10. It's now almost 9:30 and I'm ready to call it quits so that I can have a little R&R before going to bed. At least it's work I enjoy, but man, I'm tired.

That's it for me tonight.

A Day Off? Ha!

This is me today, except that I have this laptop on me and I'll be spending the day working on a site for my newest client. Meanwhile...

Today is Monty's birthday! Go over to her place and give her your best thoughts and wishes. Turning 40 isn't easy.

Being Tugged By the Unexpected

I made it through my first full week of work. But enough of that.

Last night, one of Nettl's voice students came for her first lesson since having her baby five weeks ago. I immediately volunteered to watch little Joey for the hour and I experienced something that came as a complete surprise to me. As I fed and held him, I remembered when my own boys were babies, but more, I felt... grandparenty. For the first time I realized that grandparenting is as instinctual as parenting is. It goes deeper than just saying, "When I get tired of them, I can give them back", it's a whole 'nuther call of nature.

Of course, I understand that this is nothing new to you who are already grandparents and that, as I write it, it sounds trite to those who aren't yet "of a certain age". I guess I'm just not articulate enough in the mornings to adequately describe this new instinctual tug. All this came as even more of a surprise to me because, until last night, I just never liked babies, except my own of course. I never understood how otherwise rational, intelligent people suddenly went all ga-ga when they became grandparents. It baffled and irritated me.

I don't know the socio-psychological explanation for this sudden burst of insight, all I know is that I'm going to enjoy these lessons a whole lot more now. Makes me wonder how stupid I'll get when we have our own grandkids.

Top Chef's Top Critic

I have  become an addict of RW's weekly critique of Bravo's Top Chef, season 4. Besides the fact that he is a gourmand of some renown (Chasing Vincenzo, his discontinued food/drink/cigar/friends blog) he also lives in Chicago and knows of what he speaks. Because of him, I want to go to Chicago and because of him, I want Stephanie to win. I've gotten so attached to his critiques that, each week, I sit up patiently waiting for his entry like I awaited Anthony Bourdain's last season. Even tonight, when I should be asleep. Check out this week's entry.

Light Graffiti

I came across a site called Abuzeedo last week and wanted to share it with you. Some of these images are really fantastic. The owner says:

"Long Exposure pictures can get pretty awesome if you have the right ideas. One of the coolest ideas is to make sweet light graffiti with this camera option."

Things like this amaze me. The human animal constantly searches for new expressions of creativity, which only assures me that we are creators, not mere consumers. What a birthright!

Tired As All Gedunk

Lord, I'm tired... And it's only Tuesday! How did my mom work until she was in her 60s, or my dad into his 70s? How did I do it -- sometimes working two jobs while carrying a full load at school? Those were the good old days, I tell you. I was in my prime and full of piss & vinegar.

I'm hoping this is just the acclimation phase, which usually passes in about two weeks. At my age, that may take six and by then my contract will be over.

Embarrassed (I'm Bare Assed)

I was called in this morning for my first weekly department staff meeting. Our boss sat across the conference table from me, looking at his laptop. Without a warning he looked up at me.

"What's the name of your blog?"
"Uh, what?"
"What's the name of your blog?
"Incurable Insomniac."
"Yep, this is it!"

Wondering how he found me so quickly (at all! I mean, why would he want to? Turns out he followed the link to the company's site that I included in a previous entry, he wasn't looking for me at all), I sheepishly said, "Yeah, I have a web presence." Then I blushed so red that everyone noticed. And laughed. That made me feel better.

"I'm glad that you like it here!" he said with a smile.

Later, when I came back from lunch, I saw someone in our department reading my blog.

Why did it feel like people were looking through my underwear drawer? I've been in a movie and an ARG, for godsake. I stand by my presence and my blog because I try to live authentically and I like who I am. Still, I blushed like a maiden and that was more embarrassing than anything.

About Last Night

Sometimes things just click. The right friends, the right evening, the right moods. They all combine to make for a really fun party. So it was at the Waller/Erwin house last night.

We didn't invite a huge group, just 8 of our weirdest and most eccentric friends (one didn't show up) and family members, who have no trouble cutting loose and just having a relaxing, good time.

The Lamp Shade Award has to go to Ville, who showed us how to wash artificial vegetables. We got it on tape and I hope to share it with you via YouTube soon. She was in full-tilt last night.

Someone made the toilet overflow, but our three water signs, Nettl, Micah and Allen, got that cleaned up while we air and fire signs kept our butts firmly glued to our bar stools. After the exertions of Friday and Saturday I wasn't about to do anything else. Sheesh, I was so exhausted getting ready for the party earlier that I actually sat down on the bathroom floor to blow dry my hair. Today, I'm worth even less and I have no plans for anything but eating, guzzling water, blogging and watching telly.

Thanks to all for making it a truly memorable night.

B-u-s-y

Egads but I'm busy this weekend. Besides trying to get used to working a 40-hour week again, I have a new client who wants not one, but two new websites pronto. Today, we have to go down to the city to get Nettl's car (that's an hour-long drive one way), then come back and buy food for our party tonight. Which also means that we have to carve out some time to clean the house. Not that it's a mess, we don't live that way. The house is clean, but there's dusting and vacuuming to do, the powder room to clean and then food to prepare. I'll have to dedicate all day tomorrow to my client; I've promised to build some color schemes for him to look at.

I want to know something. Why is it okay for a co-host on Food Network to call a slab of BBQ ribs "Gang bangin' good?" Last I heard, a gang bang was a group rape. As Nettl said, some terms just cannot be rescued.

Have a great weekend everyone!

Clocking In

I swore I'd never again put myself in the ant farm, but there I sat. After a 25-year run in high corp, not-so-high corp and every corp in between, evolving from stock room grunt to junior accountant, I'm back, and in a new department. No more GL, no more Sales Journal and no more double tapes -- I'm in the fun department now! I'm now Web Analyst/Web Project Coordinator. Yes, Peter, no more TPS reports.

It's quiet in the Fun Department. The phones seldom ring, voices are soft, the people are creative, the workspaces are personalized and every day is Casual Day. There is no mindless muzak or generic pop music -- MP3 players are encouraged. Be who you are. Either this company is really progressive, or things have certainly changed since the 90s.

This job is going to be like a vacation compared to what I got used to in southern California and Denver. First, I like the people -- a lot -- and they seem to like me. Second, the work is going to be interesting, but not overwhelming or grueling, and I'll learn a lot about product-oriented websites. The IT department is currently building my computer for me, which I'll get on Monday (hopefully).

I haven't worked the old 8-5 in about five years, so this evening I came home tired, but excited about returning in the morning. And going to bed at a decent hour tonight will feel very, very good.

I promise this blog won't turn into a "job journal".

Big-huge grats to Ville for getting me this job!

I Can Dance if I Want To

Time to Exhale

I won't pull any punches. The past couple of weeks have been hairy, and I've made it through a lot of hairy times. From the trivial (glasses nearly flushed down the toilet) to the horrific (too personal to go into) nearly everything and anything that can befall a family, short of the house being swept up in a tornado, has hit us.

As I explained in an earlier post, Nettl and I have been riding a downward spiraling vortex of negativity nearly since the day we met. Before, actually. This came to its most violent nadir while Joel and I were in California two weeks ago. "Bad luck" happened that weekend, trying to beat us all into bloody pulps, both on the coast and here at home.

But as soon as we recognized what was happening, spiritually speaking, we were able to turn it around. It really was like the culmination of labor and birth, to borrow a hackneyed metaphor. While standing on our hotel balcony, watching the Disneyland fireworks from outside the park, I realized that all of the negative energy that I'd unknowingly brought with me when I left California in 1999 was still hanging onto me, and had actually picked up momentum. I watched rockets fire into the night sky and turn into images of the planets, Disney characters, smiley faces, and hearts, and I mentally sent all of the negativity up with them, where they were transformed into positive energy, beautiful and celebratory. What better place to break an "evil spell" than at the Magic Kingdom, even if we never got to go in? When we flew out of John Wayne Airport, I looked out the window and mentally left all the crap where it originated; I came home feeling fifty pounds lighter.

And you know what? It worked! Immediately. IMMEDIATELY! Things changed and good things began to happen. And they haven't stopped. Every day something good happens. From a new car (free!) to replace mine that broke down on the way to the airport, to huge income tax returns that give us a solid toe hold, good things greet us every single day.

At last we can exhale. I wake up in the morning thinking, "Nothing bad is happening!" instead of being crushed by the panic attacks that have been my morning paramour for the past five years. There's food in the pantry and fridge (unless you've experienced the inability to feed your family, you can't imagine the emotional and psychological relief I'm feeling), the utility bills are paid, the rent is current, and Nettl and I could actually go out to dinner last night, and I don't mean Taco Bell. (We went to the newly remodeled and reopened Thai Cafe. It was fantastic!)

As I sit here writing this, my blood pressure lowering itself by the hour, I can take time to exhale. The worst is over, the best is yet to be.

Laptop Lazies

My laptop is back! After the AC port burned out, the entire motherboard had to be replaced. Take a tip from the picture on the left. Tape the AC adapter cord to the body of the laptop to keep it from pulling and causing an expensive problem. I'm so happy to have it back. Now my lazy ass can sit here in my chair while I surf the web and telly at the same time. Life is good.

Tuesdays with Mozart - Contemplating Beethoven

Was There Ever Any Doubt?

You Belong in 1967

You are a free spirit with a huge heart. Love, peace, and happiness rule - oh, and drugs too.

What Year Do You Belong In?

Hat tip to Dustbury.

Love, Actually

I was never a big Yoko fan, but I've always thought that
this is one the most beautiful pictures taken of her and John.


(photo by Tom Blau)

People Think Too Much

Last week I tuned into an internet radio show on which the host ranted on and on about all the things he doesn't like about the web. He railed against Twitter, Facebook, chats, internet friendships and web shortcuts like LOL and ROFL. He mostly went on about the way internet friends support each other with imaginary gestures of kindness like giving someone a drink, or a cookie. Really, I think this guy must have no imagination. He certainly has no fun. What's he so afraid of? Is a simple LOL going to demean his sense of human dignity? ("You're not laughing out loud, you're only saying that you are!")

How does he know? I frequently do and when I do, I type it. I don't think I've ever actually ROFL while chatting on the web, but there have been a few times when it took a lot not for me to do so. True, I've never LMAO, but as Monty and I discussed last night during her Friday Night Live show, it would be cool if we could, because with all the laughing we've done, we'd have no asses at all by now.

I couldn't help thinking that while this particular host went off about all of this, asserting that people on the web have no lives, he had absolutely no problem sitting alone at his computer "wanking off" (so to speak) on the internet via his radio show. That's hypocritical. If you hate the web that much, perhaps you should just close it down and join the chess club that meets at the local Barnes & Noble. Meantime, why is this so threatening?

Instead of enjoying things that are meant as fun and entertainment, we analyze them and pick them apart. And it goes from a simple LOL to saying "Merry Christmas". Something bad happens to some people when they move into adulthood: they lose their imaginations and their sense of play. We need to to remember how to play, people. Remember how fun it was to play pretend when you were a kid? We were creative then. We didn't pull everything apart, we just enjoyed.

You can look at a tree and think, "How pretty!". Then, you can chop it down, slice it into rings and figure out a lot of things about it. How old it is, what it has lived through, what droughts it endured, what blights it survived. You know everything about that tree. And it's dead. Unfortunately, too many adults treat life and the fun of life the same way.

Life is difficult and keeping our imaginations free to play is a creative alternative to becoming hard and bitter. Don't be so closed down. Stop thinking so damned much.

Back to the Salt Lick

I have a job interview today. That is to say, Friday, at 10:00.

::gulp::

When my mother had her stroke in 2000 and came to live with us, I happily left the work force to take care of her. Then, after her death, the Hashimoto's Disease reached its full effect and I couldn't keep to a 8-5 schedule. It has been eight years since I worked. Well, I've been working from home, but it has been that long since I actually had to get dressed, pack a lunch and keep a cubicle warm all day.

I really don't mind. Really. Our finances have reached an all-time low and now that my THS levels are normal, I'm feeling great and full of energy again.

It'll be nice to see a full fridge and pantry again. It'll also be nice to get both my and Nettl's cars fixed so that we can quit using my son's.

Oh God, now I'll have to go to bed at night. I'll have to get some "office" clothes. I'll have to wear makeup...

So, wish me luck. Things are definitely on the upswing around here!

Alles, was Sie brauchen, ist Liebe*

Just because I happen to think Heidi and Seal are A-one.



*All You Need is Love

Only More Love

One of the things I've learned through the years is not to be pain phobic. So many of us go through life avoiding emotional hurt at any cost. We'll even go so far as to deny ourselves potentially enriching experiences and relationships in order to avoid being hurt or disappointed. I've never been afraid of emotional pain. In fact, I've seemed to rush toward it on too many occasions, but I would rather risk the hurt than to deny myself the good things that risk can bring. Sure, I might avoid meeting some baddies out there, but I also would miss the good ones. There are a lot of people I never would have met and a lot of places I never would have seen if I'd not been a risk-taker where my heart is concerned.

Over 35 years ago a wise woman told me that mountaintop experiences are heady, but nothing of any real worth happens up there where the sun is too hot; it is in the deep, fertile valleys that real growth takes place. I've contemplated this for many years because it resonates with my life's experiences. I've known a lot of pain, but happiness is relative: the more highs we desire, the more lows we must accept into the bargain.

Unlike a lot of people, I don't believe that we are here to experience happiness every minute of our lives. I believe we come here to experience the full gamut of life's broad spectrum. The neurotic desire for happiness without sadness, love without pain and satisfaction without disappointment is imbalanced and leads to emotional diseases like alcoholism, drug addiction, obesity and over-spending. Joy is what we should be seeking. Happiness is a transitory hit-and-miss kind of illusion that's dependent upon external things, but joy is something we can carry around within us and is untouchable by life's "slings and arrows of outrageous fortune".

A number of years ago, a therapist I was seeing told me that my heart must look like a patchwork quilt due to all of the emotional adventures I'd known. My response was that she was probably right, but that it will keep me warm at night when I'm old and alone.

I know it's cliché, but when I'm lying on my death bed, it won't be the things I did and the people I met that will concern me, it'll be the things I didn't do and the people I didn't get to meet.

“I have found the paradox, that if you love until it hurts,
there can be no more hurt, only more love.”
Mother Teresa

The E For Excellence Award

Okay, so I'm rested up enough to carry my weight with this memey award, which was created by Shannymar at Project Mommy. Her rules are simple: post the award, then give it out to 10 more bloggers.

New Recipients:
1. Byzantium's Shores
I learn so much at Jaquandor's blog. His posts are always interesting and he is a dedicated blogger.

2. Violins & Starships
Lynn's blog is full of great links. I can't tell you how many wonderful sites and blogs I've found through her blog. She also has The World's Greatest Links Page.

3. Life in Shades of F-Major
Nettl's blog is almost entirely about music, until politics and family take precedence in her life. Great YouTube videos for the musical connoisseur.

4. Mewsings
Karma's blog reads like a private diary and because she's an accomplished singer and actor that makes for good reading. She's candid and one gets a feeling that one is actually reading a private journal.

5. Hairshirt
I really don't know why Joe isn't 1) running for president or 2) on stage at the Improv.

6. Neither Clever Nor Witty
That's what he says. Bob writes about his life as an at-home dad, seeker and philosopher. No frills, no excuses. Personal blogging at its best.

The following is a list of people that I would award except for the fact that they've already been. Pay them a visit and see why they've received numerous Excellence Awards:
7. Miss Meliss - Escribition
8. 1 Step Beyond
9. Bug-Eyed Blog
10. Miss Britt

10 Things I Miss About California

The very second I stepped out of John Wayne Airport in Orange County, I knew what I missed most about my home state and as the weekend progressed, more things found their way to my list:


1. The Air: it's lighter. If breathing was like drinking water, it's like a good bottled water compared to tap.

2. The Light: it too is lighter and crisper somehow.

3. Color of the Sky: throughout my life, I used to lie looking up at the sky, which I identified as being in the key of A-major (yes, I have synesthesia), deep and electric, and the citrus and palm trees against it were in G-major. You might think that it would have produced dissonance, but it didn't. It created a kind of pleasant hum in my head that I used to meditate to, my own personal Om. On Friday afternoon I lounged by the pool, listening to my MP3 player and looking up at the trees against the sky. I heard my long forgotten tones and was happily home again.

4. The Morning Hosts on LA's TV Stations: Life is damned serious here in this part of the country. In California, the attitude toward life is much more creative. Fun at any cost! Don't worry, be happy! God, I'm a fish out of water here, but the worst thing is that I forgot that I am.

5. The LA Times: Art & Music, Entertainment & Theater, Image, Calendar, Travel, Books, Opinion. With violinists and the ballet on the front page and reviews of Masterpiece Theater's Complete Jane Austin season, the LA Times is worlds apart from our papers here, where Southern Baptists religion and sports reign supreme.

6. Cars: I don't mean that I miss cars per se, I'm just sick to death of pickup trucks.

7. "Safe" Weather: I've really had it with 60mph winds, hail and tornadoes.

8. KRTH-101: We have oldies stations here, but every other song is either by Creedence Clearwater or some other "Hillbilly Rock" group.

9. The Smell of the Sea & the Sound of Seagulls: I really miss the salt spray. And seagulls? I can't believe I actually miss the little buggers.

10. The Mexican Influence: I miss the food, the architecture, the colors, the warm humor, the history and the people themselves.

If living in California wasn't so expensive, I'd go back home in a heartbeat.