A night at the Hampton Inn

I look forward to this time of year for a different reason many of you do.  This is the time of year we go to a spiritual assembly in the middle of nowhere Grantville, PA (15 minutes from Hershey Park).  We turn it into a mini-vacation and it has become a treasured event that the kids look forward to.  We've been doing this for eight years and have gone back and forth with the Comfort Inn, the Comfort Inn Suites, and the Hampton Inn.  I have to say the Hampton Inn is my favorite for many reasons. 

They have come along way since we were first here in 1999.  They now offer waffles and sausage with their breakfast selections.  The best the Comfort Inn can do is bagels.  It might sound weird, but I love that the Hampton Inn offers 24 hour access to coffee, tea and hot chocolate.  Julio loves the fact that they have free wireless internet (which is how I'm writing this).  But the number one reason I love the Hampton Inn is the indoor pool.  Since we first stayed here, we have tried many indoor pools that claim to be "heated."  What the hotel does is heat the air in the room, and the pool is freezing.  The Hampton Inn does both. 

The only thing better than a warm indoor pool, is an indoor pool devoid of people.  There's always an awkwardness when two or more strangers have to share a pool.  Or even worse, the pool is overloaded with people and you just stand there getting splashed to death.  So imagine my delight when we open the door and the room is empty.  Our family had a great time having swimming races and playing shark.  Madeleine refuses to get in the water and is quite content to sit on the steps.  So to interact with us, she starts directing.  Of course, isn't that what you would do?  She wants me to act like I'm drowning and Daddy comes to the rescue.  Then Daddy plays the mean guy who has Julian in his clutches.  She will distract him with a snack and I rescue Julian.  I could see how delighted she was to see the stories in her head come to life with the water as a new setting.  I felt like we were the only people in the world, even as we could see the trucks pass by on the interstate.  Then people finally showed up and it was time to go.  I mean, do you want someone staring at you while you're playing with your family?  So it was back to the room for free hot chocolate.  I feel relaxed and at peace.  Life is good.

A Medical Necessity

I'm not going to complain about my health insurance, because it wasn't that long ago when our family didn't have one at all.  I'm quite grateful to have one, and from what I hear Blue Cross Blue Shield Personal Choice is one of the best.  I guess our prescription plan is a separate entity from our health insurance. I can't help but complain about them.  They have tried to put up a red light at every opportunity to question if what a doctor prescribed is medically necessary.  Oh, okay.  Is the doctor wondering if it's medically necessary?  No, it's the greedy people at the top that we pay every month.  Do you know what I think is a medical necessity?  For those suits to lessen the weight in their pockets and go get their heads checked.  Then, they can be denied a prescription. Oh, but that wouldn't happen would it?

The Highlight of My Year

Looking back, it was a good year.  If I had to pick the one thing that blew me away or made an impression on me it had be the Decemberists in concert.  This was quite unexpected on my part, because I didn't know much of them. But when tickets became available, Julio insisted we must see them.  He tried to play me one of their songs before the concert, but I wasn't very interested in his song choice.  I was unaware of how diverse their music really is.  It turns out our favorite Decemberists songs are very different.  I had no time to blog when I did see them in July, so I'm finally able to share with you an awesome experience.

It was warm summer night at the Mann Music Center in Philly.  It's nice to think of that weather now being in December.  We had great seats.  The band had recently begun having a full orchestra behind them, since their budget increased with their popularity.  They are described as folk rock which does them justice somewhat.   Sometimes, they are very folk sounding.  Other times, their songs resemble folk only because of their storytelling nature.   I like how Stephen Colbert describes them as "hyper-literate prog rock."  This is because they make (sometimes obscure) historical or literary references in a lot of their songs.  Mostly, their music is touching, sometimes funny, and beautifully arranged. 

After the show, I was happy to have a husband who already had most of their music.  So when we got home, he could immediately download it in my music player.  The newest album the Crane Wife and Picaresque are my favorite albums.  There is no way to stay in a bad mood when listening to "the Sporting Life. " "The Crane Wife (part one)"  comes in a close second.  Even my daughter has come to love that song and we sing it together.  It is the Japanese story of a man who mends a crane's wing.  The next day, she returns as a woman and they marry.  You'll have to Wikipedia the rest.

It's worth taking a minute and listening to a live version of "the Crane Wife"  I have hand selected from YouTube for your listening pleasure.  The singer talks for a little bit and then the song begins. If you don't like this song, I'll bet there is a Decemberists song out there for everyone.  Don't be like me and judge the band based on one song. 

Just Rolling With the Punches

 I am a rock.

I am an island.

And a rock feel no pain.

And an island never cries.

--Paul Simon

 I have had to evaluate and re-evaluate myself more than I'd like to in a month's time.  Do you ever have everything hit you at once?  If things came, say a month at a time, they would be easier to handle.  So, I am an emotionally drained shell of a person that wants to hide under a rock in order to recuperate.  It's hard to recuperate in the open when another punch comes out of nowhere.  Where are these punches coming from?  All directions.  There is not one specific thing I can mention here because most of these issues are resolved unto themselves.  There is time needed to heal after a person goes through something emotionally traumatic.  I have barely had enough time to heal from issue number one when two through ten comes barreling on me.  I am trying my best to keep my blinders on and trudge ahead since there are no rocks nearby to crawl under.

At times like these, I think of the esoteric poet Emily Dickinson.  I have an insatiable need to read about the lives of poets, sometimes more than the poetry that made them famous.  I can't help but identify with some personality traits or threads that run through their lives.  With dear Emily, she was incredibly shy.  Well, it's hard to be a parent and still be shy. However, there is traces of shyness that will always run through my soul.  Emily never outgrew hers.  When her friends came to visit, she sat in another room and spoke to them from there.  Otherwise, she wrote them letters.  She felt the depth of their caring and friendship, even from such limited association.  She wrote the most exquisite poems on love, yet never had a beau. Could it be the fear of being hurt?  Yes, sometimes the fear can be more intense than actually being hurt.  That doesn't make it an easier emotion to deal with.  It's easier to have an ideal in place, rather than deal with harsh reality.  So Emily rarely left her house.  Some days, I don't blame her.  In order to interact with the human population, it's great to have a fortress guarding one's heart.  When there's an attack, there's no casualties.  You don't feel pain so intensely.  So since I had no fortress in place, the attacks caused some injuries.  Like all injuries, they need time to heal.  I need time to rebuild, but not in an Iraqi sort of way. 

Getting Up to Speed

My son was born with Supraventricular Tachycardia that would have killed him as an infant if it weren't for the meds Digoxin and Inderal (see poem).  His cardiologist weaned him from both by age two and said he should never have problems again.  The statistics at that time said a third of all children born with the condition would grow out of it.  I thought we were out of the woods until Julian was six and felt his heart race.  When he was born, the doctors at CHOP told me to take a bag of frozen peas and place it quickly on his forehead to shock his system out of the arrhythmia.  Taking that information to heart, I used it then with success.  I also immediately scheduled an appointment with his then Cardiologist at  DuPont.  He said the attacks weren't occuring enough to warrant medication.  Also, the side effects would not be worth dealing with.  He said to have Julian bear down (strain) like going to the bathroom and that should break the arrhythmia.  He started doing that the few times a year he would have the tachycardia always with success.  I thought everything was managable.  Then a few weeks ago, he was complaining of a racing heart and bearing down was not working.  After a few minutes, I thought of the frozen peas trick and got out a bag.  After two tries,  it didn't work.  I thought to myself--what else was there besides the ER?  And let me mention here, my local hospital/doctor knows nothing about heart arrythmias in children.  By the time I would wait to be transported to CHOP, it would be faster to drive there myself.  So I just kept trying to break it by shoving frozen peas in his face.  After a few more minutes, it worked.  That scared me.  I scheduled an appointment then with the DuPont cardiologist for January.  Then, Julian's therapist recommended I try CHOP and see if I can get in sooner.  It was the best advice I got this year.  They seemed much more on top of things there.  For instance, when I called to schedule an appointment, the receptionist said a nurse would call me to make one.  When the nurse called me, she reviewed his history.  She asked how I stopped the last episode of tachycardia.  I said after bearing down didn't work, I put frozen veggies on his face.  She laughed.  She said that's something they used to tell mothers to do to their infants.  The idea of a boy getting an old infant treatment amused her.  She joked, "Well, if he never eats vegetables, you'll know why!"  She said he needs to be seen not just by a standard cardiologist but an Electrophysiologist.  Here's a definition: Electrophysiology is the study of the electrical properties of biological cells and tissues. This is the first time I'd ever heard of one. She asked me when was the last time he wore a holter monitor (a device to monitor his heart rate for 24 hours)?  I said not since he was two.  It was something I was going to request, and it made me all the more confident for this visit that she asked first.  I'm excited to see how different this condition is treated since I was plunged into knowing about it as a young mother.  The nurse got me in for next week.  I have learned that sometimes it's better to go with the name brand (CHOP), especially when it concerns your child's health.  But now I have a problem...what am I going to do with all those frozen peas? :)

Remembering a happy time of my adolescence

I give you this title because God knows there weren't many.  There's a commercial out there right now where someone quotes a song from the band Air Supply that jogged my memory. Anyone remember that band from the 80s?  It took me back to how I loved them as a young teen.  All those romantic sappy love songs... I can play each hit and remember each guy I dedicated it to back then.  So having a Microsoft Zune pass with unlimited song download, my hubby added them to my Zune.  As I listened to them, another more pleasant memory came to me.  How would a young girl obsessed with Expose and Debbie Gibson even like Air Supply?  (Ok, I have to admit I had a weakness for the Carpenters that goes unchanged.) But I have my aunt and uncle to thank for liking the band.  They would load my cousins and I into their station wagon and pop in the tape.  It was bizarre to me that everyone in the car would sing the songs in unison.  In my family, we had the oldies station on in the car all the time because that was the only music my parents could agree on.  I didn't have an appreciation for that genre until I moved out of the house.  So, I'm in the car with my cousins and everyone is singing...how great!  Being a very dreamy romantically inclined young teenager, I loved their songs.  (It's later, I would become the jaded Alanis loving young adult.) So, soon I was singing along with my family.  One memory from that time was from the song "Two Less Lonely People in the World."  I remember my aunt saying that the song reflects her son who just started dating a girl in high school.  Well, it's 16 years later and they are still together.  Those times singing in the car lifted me up and made me forget my troubles. It made me feel part of a family when my home life wasn't so great. So today I'm listening to the "best of" album in the shower and I remember every word like it was yesterday.  I hadn't heard their songs in over 10 years.  It made me feel thirteen all over again. 

(Thanks Flo!)

My Inner European

Was there ever any doubt? ;)

Your Inner European is French!

Smart and sophisticated. You have the best of everything - at least, *you* think so.

Who's Your Inner European?

It's time for some women to grow up!

I think some women have been getting off too easily in the way they act and present themselves.  Of course, men aren't going to complain because it's for their visual benefit.  So it's time for a woman to woman chat, ladies.  What exactly am I talking about?  I'm talking about women leaving the flirting to the teenagers and back off married men!  Some women don't have high standards like caring if  a wedding ring is on a man's finger.  They think it's innocent fun, or a chance to be naughty without the consequences.  Women know what they're doing, there is nothing innocent about any coy remark.  I'm going to take this a step further and say women should develop standards for their office attire.  I'm at the bank and this young bank teller's cleavage is staring me in the face.  I was going to make her aware that I didn't need to see what bra she bought at Victoria's Secret, when it occurred to me she knows what she's doing.  She wants that attention.  There's a woman at my husband's office that too easily revealed her stomach just by reaching above her.  She knows what she's doing too.  It upsets me when I see Today show segments about women being able to "express" their sexuality by the clothes they wear in public.  I say you can express your sexuality by the lingerie you select that only one other person will see.  I don't want to see it.  Ah...but that's the interesting point.  It's not for me.  It's for men.  Men are visual creatures.  It's the "shiny nickel" complex.  They just can't help but look.  I say the women that dress this way all the time have the lowest self-esteem who need to get mens' attention by taking advantage of their visual weakness.  It seems women are foregoing the importance of the respect women before them have fought so hard for.  It's more important to them to be viewed as sexy then demand respect.  It's very hard to have both.  Beauty and brains, yes.  The office mattress and respect? No.  C'mon ladies, we have boobs.  Men know we have boobs.  Do we really need to go further?  Where does the need come from to show them off to every Tom, Dick and Harry.  You're at work, then work.  Stop wasting company money by flirting. It's not high school.  You are setting us back 50 years.  Why don't you stay home like women did back then and gossip with your neighbors if you can't act like an employee? Do you really think you'll get that raise by showing off your goods to your boss? You might get an advance that you don't want and then cry you're being sexually harassed.  And don't get me started on Hooters!

What was I thinking?

I actually arrived at Kohl's at 4:05 a.m. on Friday.  I couldn't believe they were selling a classic Kitchen Aid mixer for $120, orginal price $250.  The last time I did anything black Friday related was four years ago, and even then I didn't get to the store until 7:00 a.m.  I had my mind fixed on having this mixer.  By the time I found where they were, they were gone.  I got the second thing on my list (pots and pans) and attempted to get in line.  Five minutes later I am able to find the back of the line and wait...and wait.  I hear a woman say to her husband, "There's no line in the front of the store."  My half-awake brain tries to decipher the information and when processed, it's a eureka moment.  I say to the girl next to me, "Let's go to the front of the store!"  We head there and the line was not half as bad.  Everyone was extremely nice considering the bad rep a black Friday crowd gets. 

I just couldn't admit defeat about that mixer.  I thought, if Kohl's can get the price so low, surely another company can sell it for that as well.  I found it on Amazon for the same price, free shipping.  So in the midst of my determination, Julio asks me why do I want this mixer?  What does it do?  I say I don't know, but everyone wants one.  He thinks I'm joking because I'm never like that.  I just know it's a much coveted item for women I know.  It's like an heirloom to pass on to generation after generation.  It will blend food.  Beyond that, not sure.  Anything that helps me cook is a good thing.

All the time and expensive gas wasted, and now it's being shipped to me from the click of a checkout button. Brillant!

Looks like I'll lose to a girl in a bra

What was I thinking going up against the next generation...the YouTube generation.  "The Give Us Your Voice" contest has brought everyone out of the woodwork.  Me, the gen Xer, actually read what was required, and did it.  It's these young people that have to turn it into a whole production making me look bad.  There's nothing wrong with their creativity.  Their generation is used to making every little thing into a video and uploading it for all to see.  In my day, we didn't have fancy things like the "internet" and "digital" cameras.  In my day, we had to send out our film and wait three full days before we ever saw if our thumb was in the picture.

So, it blew me away that a girl made her own "Part of Your World" video pretty decently.  She did her best to make her living room look like an ocean.  She also looked a little too comfortable performing in her purple bra.  Yes, I get it.  Ariel has purple sea shells.  The contest wasn't called "Give Us Your Boobs" contest.  I mean can we sing a song and be done with it? You know what they say, video killed the radio star.  Well I say YouTube killed the chances of me winning this contest because I don't want the whole world seeing me in a bra.

The conference call that didn't get to happen

Last week I was set up with Julian's teacher and his psychiatrist for a conference call to discuss his symptoms.  I get a call from another doctor saying that Julian's doctor had a personal emergency and will call later to reschedule.  I find out later that he was attacked by a female patient and went to the hospital.  He had a fracture on his face (he didn't say where) from her hitting him with a phone.  She was arrested for aggravated assault.  So I have to wait another week to have the call and another week after that before we solidify anything. 

His doctor is a gentle man, all skin and bones.  He apologized to the teacher and to me for not being able to keep the appointment.  I said we both understand, how could anyone not? I will keep you updated.  Tonight, Julian's having an all boys sleep over.  I have plenty of Tylenol in stock.

P.S.  A quick shout out to a certain relative in Pottstown--you know who you are.  Thanks for reading!

Our Little Flower Girl

(Click for a larger image)

Besides entering the Little Mermaid contest, Saturday was spent at an upscale bridal shop shopping for my sister's wedding dress.  Where did my fourteen year old sister go?  I can't believe this time has come.  It was a very cozy time with my mom, her mother-in-law to be, and as featured, Madeleine.  Of course, Madeleine had the most fun trying on flower girl dresses.  She wanted the dress with the "diamonds" on it, naturally.  It would make no sense to buy one now since the wedding is a year and a half away.  She is already tall for her age, I can't imagine how tall she'll be then. 

The most important thing about the time shopping was the support my sister received.  I always wanted her to have the best life could offer her.  Saturday can be a warm memory she can tuck away and remember the love that her family showed her that day.

It figures...

It took a lot for me to post my Little Mermaid song on Broadwayworld.com but it had to be done.  I had loved the music of the Little Mermaid since it came out while I was in seventh grade.  Starting around that time, a favorite past time of mine began: manipulating my voice to sound like my favorite singers.  So Jodi Benson, the voice of Ariel, became fun to mimic.  Flash forward to now: not being able to fall back asleep at 4 a.m. last week, I stumbled upon this contest with two days left to enter.  The winner would get to be in the recording studio for the cast recording, tickets to the show and more. I had to do it.  I would regret not doing it, no matter what kind of geek I would look like. We don't have the greatest digital recorder, so the video did not turn out the best.  But I did it.  I had all my ducks in a row.  The submission was approved.  Now, I just had to get all my family and friends, and all their friends to vote for me.  I sent a mass e-mail out detailing my plight.  I know some people did forward it on to their friends of which I am grateful.  The problem?  I went by voting dates that the website listed, starting today.  For some reason they did not letting anyone vote today.  I'm afraid that people who tried to vote today will not stop back later in the week.  This request to vote is extended to my readers.  Voting, when it becomes available, ends December 3rd.  Here's the link: http://www.broadwayworld.com/mermaid.cfm#entries.  Thank you to everyone who has attempted already, I'll let you know when they stop being stupid. 

P.S.  Voting finally started Monday!

Learn three chords and you too can be a Disney star!

It all started with Lori Berkner.  Before her, I could care less who got a two minute spot in between kid shows.  Her enthusiam and creativity really show through in her videos.  She began to set the bar very high for children's music.  I downloaded the song "We are the Dinosaurs" which is Madeleine's favorite.  Lori had written the song for children to have a way to express their anger in a creative way.  It worked. 

I hate to insult the Dan Zane fans out there...but I have to.  Noggin started showing his videos soon after Lori's.  Yes, he's been in the biz for a long time, but that doesn't mean he's better.  Lori's videos are personal, like she's singing to you.  In Dan's videos, all the musicians acted like they were too cool to make eye contact with the camera or be engaging with the kids dancing around them. The songs were mediocre.

Disney has seen the light that Noggin created and has really started recruiting musicians to show their stuff during Playhouse Disney.  They actually gave Dan Zane his own segment, which has come a long way from those first videos.  I saw the Imagination Movers which has become my favorite kid band on Disney.  I love the song "I Want My Mommy"  that talks about being scared in your bed.  I love when artists think about their audience and what they could be going through.  Not just what couldn't sell to adults and has been dumbed down for kids.  What were they thinking when they hired Ralph Covert of Ralph's World?  When his first release repeats the word swim about 1000 times.  Like he ran out of ideas midway through the song and improvised the rest.  The video is extremely low budget.  The 10 kids in the audience don't really like the song either.  Let me share with you his astounding lyrics:

At the bottom of the sea, where the mermaids murmur,
You’ll find me at the bottom of the sea
At the bottom of the sea, where the crabs walk backwards
That’s where I’ll be, at the bottom of the sea
And I’m gonna swim swimma swim swim swimma swim swim swim
To the bottom of the sea
At the bottom of the sea, where the dogfish woof-glub
and the catfish meow-glub, that’s where I’ll be
At the bottom of the sea where the fish all glub-glub

Not to totally bury these guys.  They have won awards and acclaim.  So I became interested in why these people chose to pursue a career entertaining kids.  The reason?  They couldn't make it as rock stars.  Both had one hit wonder bands.  Dan had the del Fuegos, and Ralph the Bad Examples.  Both discovered the market for making children's music when they became fathers.  I think that's great.  I'm sure a lot of people enjoy their music.  I can't get into it.  I hate their videos.  My kids don't like them either.  It's a good time to practice your three chords and find your niche.  Disney's waiting for your call.

A New Diagnosis

I have been relating to Julian's doctor how school remains such a problem for him since September.  His doctor has commented how the anxiety has really calmed down.  So he gave me two questionaires to rule out ADHD.  One for me and one for his teacher.  This is the third time I have filled out this questionaire.  Filling it out this time, things started to make sense.  Problems had elevated to the level that I didn't mark everything with a 0 or 1.  I presented these back to the doctor.  He calculated the numbers in front of us so we would know how to proceed.  He then sat back perplexed on his next move.  He said ADHD needed to be confirmed by the behavior present in two settings, school and at home.  His teacher was seeing the hyperactivity, and I was seeing the inattentiveness, but neither saw both.  The findings were enough to say he had ADHD though.  Then came the concern of medication.  Technically, he would be approved to receive meds for it.  I can see some of my readers up in arms over this.  Worry not, dear readers.  Both his doctor and I remain very conservative over that issue for a number of reasons.  For his doctor, he is concerned that the drugs are a stimulant, which would increase anxiety.  Also, because my son has tachycardia, the stimulants in those drugs would be detrimental.  I have consulted the wonderful book Perscription for Nutritional Healing by Balch and Balch for information.  A quick thanks to Miss Ceido is in order for giving me the book in the first place.  There lists nutrients to combat the symptoms, which is my next step.  His doctor and I have a conference call with Julian's teacher next week to get a more accurate analysis of the situation.  Anyone with experience with this issue is welcome to share, especially since the majority of my readers prefer to remain so anonymous. :)

The Blonde Experiment

I am about to speak candidly about my observations and experiences pertaining to blonde hair dye.   If I offend, it is not intentional, but the truth must come out.   

For the background to my story, I will let you know I never started dyeing my hair until I was 29.  This gives me ample street cred as a brunette.  It's given me plenty of time for observation on how brunettes survive and exist. 

It all started when my cousin and I got old enough to date.  She was pretty and confident and almost two years older than me.  Growing up next to her wasn't easy.  The boys would be constantly calling for her and most of them she didn't care for.  Well, for a wallflower like me, there were always blind dates she could arrange for me.  The problem?  They all liked her and I couldn't prove enough of a distraction for them not to.  Can I go out on a limb and say being blonde helped?  Of course, important things like self-esteem and fashion sense help in one's plight which I didn't have either.  However on the nights of those blind dates we would spend hours getting ready.  By the time she was done with me I had enough makeup on to at least make it appear I was confident.

Well nothing ever transpired from those days, just worst self-esteem seeing that I couldn't even get one of my cousin's rejects.   I have the habit that if I'm made to feel like I don't measure up to a person or situation, I rebel from it.  I became anti-everything, and from there grew self-confidence.  I didn't say it made me prettier or happier, just confident. 

Then when I became a mom, caring about my looks took a backseat.  Slowly, from my parenting mags I took in advice about making yourself up and interviews from husbands about looks they like.  I never thought about it before.  My husband married me for me, would he like me to change my look? (Or lack thereof)  I started noticing when we would be in a mall, it would always be the blonde that would turn his head.  This made me mad.  What's in a hair color?  But it wasn't just him. 

An eye opening experience was when I went to the mall with my younger sister.  She is very pretty...and at the time, very blonde.  We went into a children's clothing store, I obviously the one with the child.  The clerk approaches her very friendly and says nothing to me.  It happens again in another store.  I make this into an observation game for the rest of the trip.  Walking behind her, I keep my eyes focused on everyone that comes in her path.  The men would stare at her and blonde women would give her dirty looks.  The latter made no sense to me.  She was only 20 years old at the time and these women ranging in age from teens to 40s would look at her as if to abhor her existence on the earth. 

Julio had been joking around about me going blonde for years.  I thought, well I was until I was four, it can't be that much of a stretch.  I became keenly aware of women and their hair.  I would ask myself, what makes this woman pretty?  I would notice facial features and not see anything special.  It was the blonde hair.  The color just seemed to offset any unattractiveness.  I began to notice women with pretty features could easily pull off brown or black hair.  Those colors enhanced their features.  I knew then for sure this blonde thing was for me.

Am I saying take away the color and blonde women wouldn't be pretty?  Of course not.  To me, it gives paticular women a little "umph"  to their looks.  I am one of those women that need it.  So now it was my turn out in public.  Would my blonde experience really be different?  I have to say in subtle, but interesting ways.  For one thing, I am not called ma'am anymore.  I prefer to be called "miss" anyday.  Julio has noticed I get checked out a lot more, which is something new to me.  What I find the most interesting is how other blonde women see me.  If I'm in a room of mostly men and a blonde woman walks in, the first thing she does is look at me as if to say, "What are you doing here?"  Perhaps, I'm stealing her spotlight?  I really can't stand how women can be so petty.  Unfortunetly, sometimes blonde and petty go hand-in-hand.  That's when I embrace the brunette within and feel good I have so much more to offer then my hair color. 

The Winner Beware

Usually when your friend tells you she’s going on vacation, you have a twinge of jealousy in your voice when you say, ”Have a fun trip!” Well no one should envy me. Without reading the fine print (mistake number one) I was selected from a “drawing” at my local Bennigan’s Restaurant for a trip to Williamsburg, VA. In my mind I think,”OK, safe enough to win something like this. It’s not a trip to Paris or Bahamas where things could get messy.” We had never been to this part of Virginia, so what the heck? Yes, it could have been a lot worse, but c’mon!

The representative on the phone said something about an Inn and something about a plantation. We win 2 gift cards to Bennigan’s. We get $150 gift card to spend there. All we have to do is secure $75.00 on a credit card and we’ll get that money back when we get there. So what’s the catch? We have to sit through a presentation of the wonders of timeshare ownership. We’d done something similar before and survived. All the details would be in the e-mail, no sweat.

Maybe you think I’m an idiot. I can’t help it. I have an insatiable need to travel. It’s free, we’d work out any kinks, right? Well…

So in the e-mail there is no mention of where we are staying. Just a map of the area with a big star at the Plantation House. I figure that’s where they want us to go. There is no phone number included in the e-mail, but I figure if I really wanted to get in touch with someone I could e-mail them. Things seemed self–explanatory…

 

So the stress starts with the dog. I found a kennel to take our dog Samantha. I could not submit my friend to all the trouble of dog watching this time. This kennel stuff was new to me, but was so proud when I handed the lady my rabies papers and kennel cough, bla bla bla. “Has she been treated for fleas?” she asks. Ugh, the one thing I forgot. She gets a little cranky, but agrees to keep her after a passing inspection. She comments on how spoiled she is and drags her away. Okay, now I’m wondering if all this should really happen. Reluctantly, I go home and finish packing. We leave around 12:00 in the afternoon and hope to make good time. Within 30 minutes, we encounter traffic and for the most part, it’s a slow go the rest of the way. Living in Southeastern PA, it takes about five hours to get down to Williamsburg. Eight hours later, we finally get into town and the map that was provided turned out to be very confusing. Tired and stressed, I enter a convenience store and a friendly employee tells me she'll help me in a minute. As I'm standing there a strung out man is staring at me. I smile politely and he walks behind me.

After a minute, he whispers, "I'm so nervous." So I bite. "Why?" I ask. "'Cause that cop is outside, and I'm so @&#*  up right now."

"Well, you should be nervous. Why don't you get some coffee." I teasingly say. At that, the nice lady begins to help me and I quickly exit. I start to wonder, does that happen a lot in Virginia?

After receiving wrong directions we finally arrive at the Plantation House. The snooty receptionist tells my husband he was not to come there, but go to the Patriot Inn where we are supposed to be staying. When we get there, there are no rooms. The lady informs us we will have to have a room where we just came from and gives us a room number there. Back at the Plantation House the snooty girl says she’ll check if they have any available and takes her time. Announcing they did have something, she gives us the keys to the same room we told her we were assigned.

The room was very nice so no problems there. We woke early the next day to meet our "guide" who would take us on a tour of Williamsburg and then back to the office to make us feel like lowlifes for wasting his time. Colonial Williamsburg, from the car, looked like a nice place to spend time if your kids are older and might actually care you're spending money to look at old crap. I did learn in the 1930s John Rockefeller stumbled upon Williamsburg, which had become abandoned and overgrown. Because of him, it's the money hungry tourist attraction it is today.

 

Well, the fun began when we went back to the office and our guide Wes started out nice, and by the end became a monster. He started twisting what we were saying to prove his point on how we would benefit from wonders of a timeshare. He got backup and we still wouldn't budge. Then, when we thought we could finally get our day started at 2:00 he tells us to exit through a certain door to receive our "prizes" and we get hit with one more person chaining us to our chair and reselling it all over again. Remember what we were "promised"? The only things we got were a $75.00 giftcard with our $75.00 deposit put on it. (That's the $150 I mentioned earlier--interesting how they word things.) We were only to get 1 Bennigan's $25.00 gift card but since they didn't have any they added that amount to the card. I am not ungrateful, I just like to get what I'm promised. When I mentioned this to Wes, he pretty much said to shut up and be happy with what I got. We got out as soon as we could to recover and get on with our lives.

The only plus to the trip was the city of Hampton, about 20 minutes from Williamsburg. The beautiful town on the Chesapeake Bay is also the home of the Virginia Air and Space Museum. It's the home of the Apollo 12 Command Module and and a DC-9 passenger jet you can go into. We had a great time. Then to dinner on the patio of a nice hotel by the water. The crab quesidillas were so good.

We left early the next day to encounter more miles of traffic on the way home. We survived (gameboys helped) and our dog Samantha survived too.  We discovered how creative the people of Virginia are with their license plates.  We had a lot of fun reading them on the way home. But the important thing is, I learned a valuable lesson: I like being home. I don't need to travel to have a good time. Whether it's long delays at an airport or never ending traffic woes, it's not worth taking multiple vacations for us. I'll take playing Candy Land at home any day.

The Mom Song

For the tech savvy, you've probably already seen this YouTube video. For me, I had to hear about it on Oprah.com. The comedian Anita Renfroe made a song about things moms say to their kids to the tune of the William Tell Overture. It's worth the time to check it out and have a laugh.

Hi I'm Karen and I have dyscalculia

Just by chance, I stumbled upon a name for a problem I have suffered with since third grade.  Picture how an illiterate person can squeak by their entire lives not knowing how to read.  Well, I have done that in everything that involves numbers.  Because I was a good quiet kid, I think my math teachers passed me out of pity.  It's not like I didn't try.  I spent more than enough hours with different tutors.  I would kind of understand what they were showing me, but by the time the test came around I never got higher than a D.  This continued in college where I failed the basic math course--twice.  You begin to develop a phobia when you confront numbers.  There are many levels or symptoms of dyscalculia. These are the ones I have:

Reliance on 'counting-on' strategies, e.g., using fingers, rather than any more efficient mental arithmetic strategies.

Difficulty with everyday tasks like checking change.

Inability to comprehend financial planning or budgeting, sometimes even at a basic level; for example, estimating the cost of the items in a shopping basket or balancing a checkbook.

Difficulty with mental arithmetic.

Difficulty with conceptualizing time and judging the passing of time.

Problems differentiating between left and right.

Having difficulty mentally estimating the measurement of an object or distance (e.g., whether something is 10 or 20 feet away).

Inability to grasp and remember mathematical concepts, rules, formulae, and sequences.

I have read that people who suffer with this, happen to excel in English and science (well I'm the former not the latter).  Even going so far as to say some excel creatively, like in poetry.  I think back to a day in seventh grade that I earned some respect from my class by reciting a serious poem I had written.  Everyone thought I copied it from a book.  Or my favorite English teacher's recommendation for my college application.  He wrote, "She has already read books and poetry that most high school students would not attempt." 

It's a great comfort to know that I'm not a complete idiot, and there is a reason for this gap in intelligence.  If I had to choose between being a whiz in math or English, I'd rather pick English anyway.  You can't snuggle up with a good book about the pythagorean theorem--that is, unless you're my husband :)

To learn more, please visit: www.dyscalculia.org

Living with a young Louisa May Alcott

I've been on a Little Women kick.  I recently downloaded Little Women: the Musical and was impressed with how the lyrics captured the soul of the book.  I cried when I heard "Some Things Are Meant to Be," a duet between Jo and Beth, before Beth dies.  It touched me to see the love siblings can have for eachother.  Last night I watched the movie made in 1994, and couldn't help but long for sisters like that.  It's true I have two of my very own, but we have never been close.  They are quite set in their ways, which doesn't allow for the closeness I crave. 

Yet, snuggling next to me during the movie is my daughter.  She is the closest "sister" I think I'll ever have.  She reminds me of those sisters in so many ways.  The character of Jo, who Louisa based herself on, I think comes the closest.  It's not her stubborness or her giving, caring nature that stands out the most as similiarites.  It's her need to create outlandish stories and direct and star in them.  I should have seen it coming.  At three, playing barbies became dramatic.  I would be Ken, she would be Barbie.  They would dance and eat dinner.  When all of a sudden, the "other woman"  would enter the story and upsurp all of Barbie's happiness.  Where did she get this idea?  Was she sneaking in episodes of General Hospital when I wasn't looking? 

Then she started directing.  She would give me my line from a story she just created, and told me how I should say it.  She would make me do my line over if it wasn't to her caliber.  She's become the toughest director I've ever worked for.  The stories started out simple.  I was the prince, she was Cinderella.  We've moved on to becoming ninjas in the jungle.  She had her "sword" and could not find one suitable for me.  She took mints out of my purse and told me to give the fiends this bad candy instead. 

One day if she ever decides to write a story based on our family, I can only hope we live up to the high standards the Alcott family set in encouraging intelligence and creativity and unfailing love for family. 

World's worst polluted cities

You may not have known this, but one of my lesser known passions is enviornmentalism...long before it was cool.  In highschool, I researched becoming an enviornmental engineer until I discovered I would need to do math problems.  I thought it in the best interest of that profession to not pursue it any futher.  So, I recycle and turn off the light when I leave the room, etc.  We know global warming is a problem but this MSNBC article just breaks everything down about how people are affected by their enviornment, specifically children.  Please check out the slide show as well. 

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/20745214

In viewing it, I can't help but look forward to a time when the earth will not be so plagued by these horrible problems caused by greed and ignorance.

Julian's Progress

I had written about my nine year old son Julian's battles with anxiety over the summer.  Here's an update:  He has been seeing his doctor every week now for a month and is doing much better.  I had come up with the idea to allow him to say he was worried about me once a day in the summer and the rest of the day distract the anxiety with positive thoughts.  I ran this one by the doctor in August and he said Julian needs to stop himself from saying he was worried about me altogether.  Positive reinforcement is the only way to do this.  If he did not say this six out of seven days he got a prize.  This motivates his brain to stop the pattern.  We have done this for a month and it has worked wonders.  This method can be used for any child experiencing anxiety that prohibits them from getting through a normal day.  Maybe a child has an unreasonable fear of going to school.  You can't keep a child home just because he doesn't want to go.  There were many days last year I sent my son to school with an anxious stomach ache.  It always cleared up an hour after school started.  You could give your child a small gift if he made it to school every day that week and slowly up the ante from there. 

Of course, it helps to have a great teacher which Julian has been blessed with this year.  She is more concerned with helping him succeed rather than focusing on every class rule he might accidentally break. (Can you tell I'm scarred from last year?)  He has shifted from hating school to looking forward to every day.  I am volunteering on Tuesday for the first time this year and can't wait. 

And Both Were Young

This is the title to a Madeleine L'Engle book I just finished today.  I haven't read a book of hers since I was 14.  I remember getting introduced to her Wrinkle in Time series in sixth grade.   It was different to me in many ways.  How many sci-fi books could you find with a female protagonist?  Most books I read then featured a club of babysitters or twins at a high school.  Not only had her books touched me, her name did as well.  I thought the spelling of her name was so beautiful that I was determined then to spell my future daughter's name that way.

With that in mind, I came across a title I was unaware of in a used book store and paged through it.  It was her forward that got my attention.  Portions of her book that had been removed when originally published in 1949 were restored in her 1983 edition.  What sold me was the main character Phillipa Hunter experiences mirrored her own.  There is something I find most interesting when a fictional writer intertwines their personal experiences into their stories in obvious ways.  That is why Vilette by Charlotte Bronte is one of my favorites as well as L.M. Montgomery's Emily of New Moon series.  It is interesting to note how interconnected these three writers are.  L.M. Montgomery was inspired by Charlotte Bronte and Madeleine L'Engle was inspired by L.M. Montgomery.  I found an interesting quote from L'Engle on this topic:

"The books I read most as a child were by Lucy Maud Montgomery, who’s best known for her Anne of Green Gables stories, but I also liked Emily of New Moon. Emily was an only child, as I was. Emily lived on an island, as did I. Although Manhattan Island and Prince Edward Island are not very much alike, they are still islands. Emily’s father was dying of bad lungs, and so was mine. Emily had some dreadful relatives, and so did I. She had a hard time in school, and she also understood that there’s more to life than just the things that can be explained by encyclopedias and facts. Facts alone are not adequate. I love Emily." 

I couldn't help but see a pattern in my choice of authors.  So it was no surprise I loved And Both Were Young on many levels.  I can't help but identify with the awkward creative female character.  So was the case, when Philippa starts boarding school in Switzerland and has a hard time making friends.  Her only joy comes from Paul, a shy isolated only child teen with a mysterious past.  As Philippa (Flip for short) gets out of her comfort zone, she discovers how other girls in her school feel as isolated as she does in terms of family relationships.  This is a constant thread throughout:  The more she knows she needs to stand on her own two feet, the more she needs the comfort from a mother recently deceased and an absent but loving father.  What I found facinating about this was how these teenage characters craved a warm loving mother.  Can you imagine teenagers talking so openly about that today?  Is that even a necessity they would consider?  It's a necessity today more than ever. 

It is a must read for L'Engle fans or anyone that has become interested in her work since her passing a month ago.  I discovered on Amazon how many other non sci-fi books she had published and can't wait to read her autobiographical book Two Part Invention: The Story of a Marriage.

Do you work better one-on-one or in a group?

I ask this question pertaining to having friends.  This question does not apply if none of your friends are friends with eachother.  Then you have it easy.  You have selected individuals in your life for their personal attributes.  You can't assume all your friends could easily be friends with one another.  But if your friends are also friends with eachother, it can get messy.  If you're all at dinner together, someone is bound to be left out.  You might discover your friends are closer to eachother than to you.  Or somehow, whisper down the lane gets started, and by the time it gets back to you there is not an ounce of truth to it.  Well for whatever reason, I work better one-on-one.  This is not being anti-social.  This is what I find most fulfilling.  This is how you develop close friendships.  If you crave bar buddies or PTA mom parties, it's going to be impossible to get to really know what's in someone's head.  I find people act differently when in groups.  There is more a subconscious pressure to go with the flow of the group in conversation and a different opinion could make it all come to a screeching halt.  So what happens when a "group" person and a "one-on-one" become friends?  A stalemate.

My Book Persona

Uh...

You're Ulysses!

by James Joyce

Most people are convinced that you don't make any sense, but compared
to what else you could say, what you're saying now makes tons of sense. What people do
understand about you is your vulgarity, which has convinced people that you are at once
brilliant and repugnant. Meanwhile you are content to wander around aimlessly, taking in
the sights and sounds of the city. What you see is vast, almost limitless, and brings you
additional fame. When no one is looking, you dream of being a Greek folk hero.


Take the Book Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.

John Lennon the Jerk

I don't like to call people names.  It pains me to call one of my idols a jerk.  But I just finished reading John by Cynthia Lennon.  Her basis of the book is not to bad mouth him either.  Just to say it like it was.  I loved every minute of it.  She was writing a piece of history like she was writing in her journal.  Very warm and heartfelt toward the man that caused her such pain.  Yet also expressing regret and giving an accurate explanation of a key part of music history.  There has been the John Lennon that Yoko has (commercially) promoted since his death and there is the real John before drugs overtook his life. She explains what life was like growing up in Liverpool in the 40s and 50s. We learn in the book why John would be attracted to a person like Cynthia. Why one minute he wants to be a better husband and the next he's going through a third party wanting a divorce.  Why would John be attracted to Yoko?  Can I spoil that one for you? John grew up in a controling, nothing's-ever-good-enough household raised by his aunt Mimi.  He found those characteristics subconsciously appealing in Yoko.  She herself had admitted aunt Mimi and her had a lot in common. This blew my mind as one of his fans.  Reading this book has made me destroy the pedestal I had put him on.  It also has made me view Yoko in a new light.  It was hard for Cynthia to say nice things about Yoko even though she tried. Why would that be a problem? Because in all honesty there is not much there to say. I hope Yoko is embarassed for the way she has acted toward John's family. Public opinion used to be so cruel to Yoko and I know that has cooled down in decades since his death.  Well everyone was right. She's got problems. This eye-opening book is must read for anyone who loves the Beatles or wants another reason to say that drugs destroy families. 

Too Sentimental for My Own Good

Do you ever have a day when you wish you could revisit the past?  For some reason, today is that day for me.  I e-mailed my childhood friend who lives in L.A.  telling him how much I missed him. Then, I wrote a poem about a long lost best friend I had in high school.  Not satisfied, I looked her up on the internet and her name popped right up (past searches never showed much). Years ago, I  tried contacting her through Classmates.com but wasn't sure if she got the message or maybe she didn't want to hear from me. So today for some reason, I got up the nerve to e-mail her. Now I'm very anxious if she will write me back.  There was never closure to our relationship, she moved to England and never told me her new address.  So why 11 years later should I care? There is something about our relationships in childhood that are so pure, so endearing that most adult relationships can't fulfill.  Those few adult friends I do have I don't take for granted, knowing how hurt I have been by people I thought were friends in the past.  Will my old friend brush me off?  I tend to have the ability to go to the past in my mind and recall things vividly.  I remember her like it was yesterday. In my e-mail, I wrote like we had only lost touch for a few months.  It hurts when people don't remember you the same way.  It makes the people who do, that much more special.

Is It 1957 or 2007?

There was a construction worker outside near my home a month ago talking very loudly to a guy inside the house they were working on.  My children and I were leaving our house for the day when I hear the worker make a joke with the N-word in it.  My first instinct was to shield my children's ears from a bad word.  Then I thought, this goes way beyond a bad word.  I put them in the car and made my presence known to the guy.

"I'm glad I'm not black." I said sarcastically.

He said,"Oh, didn't see you there."  (Obviously blind and ignorant)

"You need to watch your language."  I berated.

He brushed me off with a sorry and I starting fuming.

"Well it's not so much the language but the attitude that's behind it!" 

I was shaking as I got back in the car.  I'm not one prone to yell at strangers but it needed to be done. There have been racial incidents in our area in the past five years and I didn't want this idiot to think our community put up with it.  Well, nothing like what a Newsweek article recently published about a small town in Louisiana.  It was quoted that the community there still lives in the past and are going through a very tough time because of that. It mentioned parts of a high school were still traditionally segregated. Gimme a break! What's a good hearted white person to do when surrounded by ignorant white people?  Don't put up with it!  Tell those around you that hating or making fun of other people is not okay. Don't just laugh along with them to not make waves.  I feel better for taking a stand on what should be an archaic issue.

A Post for the Child Within

I can't speak for the young girls of today by any means. It's my understanding that by seven or eight, girls think Barbie dolls are for babies. They would rather worship the latest vocal artist by mimicking their wardrobe down to the exposing of a recently healed from birth belly button. This post is not for you. Let me show my age by saying "in my day" girls didn't grow up so fast. At six years old, I still enjoyed Sesame Street. I will even admit to you, my dear reader, that I enjoyed creating drama between my Barbie dolls until I was twelve. This would be considered "babyish" by today's standards. Now having a four year old daughter, we spend our time together playing Barbies. (Bratz dolls have way too much attitude to be allowed in my house.) I think back to the 80s and remember dolls and furniture I had then. I even would look on eBay sometimes and drool over what was once considered so unattainable. Women sellers even market their used product in such a way that they know women like me still want them. So, I will understand if you do not share in my excitement of what transpired over this weekend. I found a much coveted 1979 Barbie dream house. No Barbie "dream house" since has come close to this particular one for me. I would see these on eBay and they could go up to $200. No thank you. So a minute from my house at a garage sale, I spot one. I approach the purveyor of goods.

Trying not to show too much emotion, I say,"Is that a Barbie dream house?"

"I don't know," is her lackluster reply.

"How much is it?" I say as I'm expecting the worst.

"Five bucks."

It's in excellent condition but empty. I decide to push my luck, " Do you have any furniture that goes with it?"

"Oh I didn't think to get it out, hold on."

She proceeds to bring out a large bag of Barbie furniture in good condition, including a set from the 1979 edition. I call my mom afterwards like I won the lottery. I never call my mom unless it's to keep up on her health. She is very happy for me but declines to come over and play. After all, you can recreate the past, but you can't reinvent it.

The Summer Flies By...

It's been awhile since my last post, not from want of ideas, just time.  My nine year old couldn't be happier that it's summer, while my four year old begs for preschool everyday. My heart goes out to the mom that doesn't get to enjoy summer with her kids.  Of course the funds are lacking for certain things I'd like to sign the kids up for and for mutiple vacations.  But, you don't miss what you never had, right? For the past five years there seems to be a stress maker for our family every summer. There has been a lay off, a spinal injury, cancer and last year's broken arm.  We've gotten though half this summer a-ok.  What has been a personal stress has been my son's anxiety.  I posted last November that he does not have any form of autism, but has separation anxiety. He has been seeing a psychiatrist since then.  Third grade had put such stress on him, I think he forgot that he even had anxiety about me and focused it all on school.  Well since school is out, the separation anxiety has come back full force.  A day does not go by that he asks me if I'm ok or tells me that he's worried about me.  If I catch a cold, he asks me if I'm going to die.  There is a logic I see in his eyes that he knows I'm ok, but can't get his brain out of the habit of asking anyway.  We have not been able to see his psychiatrist this summer due to the doctor's new schedule and office. So I came up with the idea that my son has to stop himself from worrying.  He's allowed to ask me once a day if I'm ok and after that he loses TV time. This has been a good motivator, but it's making me worry about his mental health.  He also seems to "feel" every little scratch or bump as this major pain.  I have his yearly check-up coming up, so I can at least ask then.  Being a boy, that is not going to look any good in front of the other fourth graders.  As always, it's been my mission to help him be the best he can be. It just continues to be a long road.

Karen and the Band Part Deux

I was joking with Julio on the way over to my second audition that there would be another woman there to one up me.  And there was.  Well, let's say we have different qualities to our voices.  And she was my neighbor.  We both drove a half an hour to sing our hearts out.  My son actually had a crush on her daughter in kindergarten.  So while we were waiting for the last band member, we gabbed for awhile.  We were both old enough to not have any competition between us.  At least, I was not in the least competitive.  I was having fun doing what I love.  We both were cheering for eachother and having a good time doing some back up as well.  As I watched her on stage, I could definetly feel she was a better fit.  It's not my low self-esteem showing through, it's my objective view of the situation.  She had no inhibition to singing Hard to Handle and did a great job of making up the words.  It's just not my cup of tea.  Will I lose out on this band because of that?  Am I a musical snob?  Music is just so personal to me and call me crazy, but I have to like what I sing. They are still auditioning people and are not in any way ready to make a decision.  I had so much fun to keep me going for the rest of the year just to do something with music.  I can't just be a housewife.  I can't just be a mother.  Some women are completely fulfilled or overwhelmed in those areas to not think about things they are passionate about.  You have to carve out that time for yourself.  Even if the kids whine that you're going out or say, "Mom sitting at that audition was really boring." I say no one died of boredom.  I watched firsthand how being a housewife full-time can make you forget who you are and sometimes ruin you.  In the long run, your kids respect you more if they see you are happy.  I have to tell myself that while my kids are still young and complain.

Karen and the Band

I will share my joy with you, reader, for tonight I got to audition for a rock and roll band. I have certainly tried different venues to release the inner diva, but to no avail.  I'm not getting any younger and would like to do something with music for once.  Rock and roll? Well, not really what my voice is meant for, but you take what you can get. My husband witnessed the event and told me I looked very happy and natural on the stage.  How did a little wife and mother get to become rock goddess for fifteen minutes?  Let me tell you.  There was an ad in the paper. A local guy was looking for a singer with no attitude to practice once a week with a band made up average joes with day jobs.  They would play local friends parties, etc. Well when I spoke to him, the hours did not conflict with any of mine, so my family and I went for me to audition. These guys are good, but not pros.  They had a limited song list, with even a more limited female songs.  I chose an Alanis Morrisette song out of their playlist which the guys hadn't practiced in awhile and I hadn't heard in years.  I read the lyrics from Julio's blackberry while singing.  Imagine the hijinx that ensued.  After a couple of tries we got it together and I was belting it out.  My kids are holding their ears and are dumbfounded.  Julio liked it.  The guys did too, but insisted I learn the other songs they know so next week we can try those out.  Some are cool:  Sheryl Crow, Garbage...but the Black Crowes, Green Day? How could a female voice do those artists justice?  And I hate the Black Crowes--from day one! All in all, I told them even if they didn't like me, it was great for me to sing with a band for one night in my life.  So next week should be interesting, because they are very open to learning new songs, but me sing "Hard to Handle?"  No way!

A Quick Heads Up

For anyone that has tried contacting me through my site, I am unable to receive them for some reason.  It doesn't even show that someone has tried to e-mail me so don't think I'm rude.  You can e-mail me the old fashioned way and I should receive it. 

Nice Guys Don't Always Finish Last

I have subscribed to the Philadelphia Inquirer for at least five years.  I have seen various deals when signing up for their auto-pay.  I never got around to calling when those were in place to benefit from them.  So when a telemarker called me to make a payment, he asked me how I was.  Well, I could hear the suprise in his voice when I asked him the same. When I asked him about specials for signing up for auto-pay, he said they didn't have any now.  I told him I recalled last time I saw theater tickets for signing up for auto-pay, he said he'd ask his manager.  When he found it would take sometime to track some down, he said he'd call me back.  It took him a half hour just to dig up some tickets.  Why would a stranger do such a thing?  He said my friendliness motivated him.  I let him know it was not in vain because I live in the boondocks, void of such culture.  It brightened my day.  And all I had to do was be nice.

A Word to the Conservative Woman or Those Faint of Heart

I am what you might consider white. Very white.  Well, my husband is hispanic only by skin and by food choice.  Otherwise, he's very white like me.  I am not prejudice in anyway and instead looked forward to learning about my husband's culture from Puerto Rico.  I have learned a lot in the ten years I have been with my husband.  Nothing could have prepared me for a Puerto Rican bridal shower.  It's rare in my experience to see a mother "corrupt" her daughter in order to prepare her for marriage.  Puerto Rican women have a strange sense of humor and I saw every aspect of that last Saturday.  Let's say it doesn't matter what age you are if you're a PR woman, your level of silliness like that of a twelve year old girl never ceases.  Especially when it comes to introducing a young woman to her "duties" of marriage.  I have been informed this is a very old tradition that introduces an ignorant bride to be of any male body parts that might be foreign to her.  A good point was brought out by someone there, that such tradition is archaic at best.  So this blog remains a warning to such a woman that has an ounce of morals inside her to know what you're getting into.  At least, be careful with accepting souvenirs, especially lollipops. 

"Emily of New Moon" Anime Series!

I was excited to find this:  an anime adaptation of "Emily of New Moon" was released this month in Japan!  I can only hope and wait for a US DVD release.  I hope to watch it with some close friends (Ceido, wink, wink ;) ), and even Julio wants to see it.

"Emily of New Moon" Anime home page

Spoke Too Soon

Last night was a bit rough.  I felt awful all day, getting worse until, when Julio got home, I asked him to take me to the ER.  I called my surgeon's office to talk to a nurse and see if I could get a new medication, because the pain medicine they gave me wasn't helping.  The surgeon is on vacation, and the nurse told me that she couldn't prescribe me anything else.  "That's what he prescribed you and that's what you should take." she said.  Unbelievable!  I was in all this pain and she was not helpful at all.  I had so much pain in my sinuses, and having the nasal junk dripping down my nose into my stomach was making me very nauseous.  I went to the ER and was there for a few hours.  They gave me two new medicines which have helped a lot.  When we got home, I threw up, but that helped me feel better.

I'd like to thank everyone who expressed their thoughts and concerns here and on Julio's site.  I really appreciated that.  Hopefully I'll be getting better in the next week or so.

On The Mend

Last Tuesday, I had sinus surgery.  It was in my best interest to have this done but no one told me it would still hurt a week later.  Once I told people I was having it done, just about everyone knew of someone who had it done recently.  They said, "She was up and moving after a day of rest." or "She felt better immediately."  So I know I wouldn't have the same recovery but when I woke from the anesthesia, my doctor informed me that he had done a lot of work and didn't know how I ever breathed through my right nostril.  It doesn't look bad, but if Arnold Schwarzenegger ever punched me in the nose, I know what it would feel like. If you heard me, you would think I just had a bad cold because of how stuffy I am.  But, it was nice to lay around for a week and rest.  In the recovery room after the surgery, the nurse said I was a model patient.  I said I feel like I'm in a day spa.  Don't have to worry about the house, kids and what I was making for dinner.  Moms are not used to "just lying around" so it was a foreign but welcome short-lived change.  I felt blessed I had my in-laws and husband to pick up my slack.  I'm just suprised I'm still leaking discharge and coughing up blood tinged mucus. Yum! I'm currently reading a book on voice over acting which had said sinus problems could dramatically change your performance.  So if there's a positive to this, I hope my voice will improve.  Once I'm off my pain meds, I hope to write something "intelligent" and "witty" so check back soon.
 

I thought I'd never say this...

but bring on the cold weather!  I love summer as much as the next girl but a problem arises when all my clothes from last fall are too tight for the spring.  Too many cookies and too many matching velor suits have me stuck in hibernation mode.  Ok, so I have bought two pairs of pants the next size up but a whole new wardrobe in that size?  No way.  So spring has been delayed in the Northeast which allows me to attempt to cut my calories and excercise before the inevitable happens...bathing suit weather! :shock:

An Unspoken Code

Experts say that children with autism lack social graces that are inborn in us.  They might speak their mind matter-of-factly even if it hurts someone's feelings and then lack the ability to sympathize.  I want to know what is the excuse if you aren't autistic.  If you confide in someone your deepest feelings and fears, what gives a friend the right to tell the exact person you're worried about everything you said.  I tend to take common sense for granted.  I take for granted that the average human being will internalize a friend's confidences that would then create a bond of closeness.  There is an unspoken code that the brain utlilizes in dealing with fellow humans.  If a person confides in you something it should not be a goal to tell another person (especially the person you're worried about) what someone has said in order to spare their feelings.  Now if bodily harm or kidnapping might result, it would be wise to tell said person of such. 

Now I have someone I love very dearly worried and insulted all because someone didn't know when to keep their mouth shut.  Since such a person might read my blog I can't go into details.  Hopefully they have the sense to know it's them.  But for the general reader, don't take social graces for granted.  And don't think just because you have common sense, the person you're confiding in does too, even if (especially if) they are a family member.  Next time I'll interview the next candidate I talk to.

The Only Advantage to Being Alone...

My daughter started preschool this week.  I have been raving to my friends how great this alone time will be.  Afterall, I spent all of my 20s pregnant, nursing or caring for an offspring in one way or another.  She's the last one out of the nest.  I should feel esctatic!  Dropping her off at preschool, I felt happy for her.  She's not a sit at home kind of girl.  She knew the moment was bittersweet as well.  One minute she's pushing me to my car, the next she says she loves me and kisses me goodbye.  Aloneness.  Freedom.  I felt for a minute like a crazy reckless teenager.  I could go anywhere, do anything.  But that quickly passed, and I felt sad to be alone.  I remembered the one thing I couldn't do with my kids that I love:  belting out sad Broadway songs.  My kids hate that.  Nothing makes me feel more alive than singing those songs.  The first time I discovered this was going to get in the way of my children enjoying their homelife with me, was when my son was two.  I thought I was alone doing dishes one night.  I was listening to the soundtrack of Ragtime  when Audra McDonald sings "Your Daddy's Son." One of my favorite songs of all time, but very depressing.  I open my eyes at the end of the chours to see my son looking terrified of me, like he didn't know who I was.   I calmed him down but realized I would be limited in my song choice from now on.  So I have discovered the one advantage to being by myself for those hours:  Broadway's most heart-wrenching soundtrack filling my house.  Now I just have to worry about complaints from the neighbors.

Review of <em>Emily of New Moon</em> and <em>Emily Climbs</em>

I started late in life as a fan of Lucy Maud Montgomery.  At the ripe old age of 17, a friend showed me the Anne of Green Gables movie and I was obsessed.  No matter that most girls start adoring the books by 12.  I have come to see that it is a misconception to believe that only "young adults" can appreciate the books this author has written.  Yes, the Anne books might have started when Anne was 12.  But, the last in the series Rilla of Ingleside finishes when she is in her 50's.  There are many nuances and exposures of hidden sociological guilty pleasures of her time that are very applicable today that a 12 year old could not understand.  But I digress...

Emily of New Moon and Emily Climbs are the first two books in a trilogy.  I had never read anything by Montgomery except the Anne books so it took a little bit of time for me to care about Emily and this new cast of characters on Prince Edward Island.  I held on and in time I saw she was not just writing about another young girl with no parents. As I researched the book, I came to learn she was roundaboutly writing about herself.  That made the series all the more interesting.  There was a definite "sass" to this series that the Anne books lacked.  She had no qualms telling the reader Emily innermost thoughts (which might have been thought scandalous at the time) as long as she reminded you she was only the storyteller, not Emily's judge.  So, there was a definite freeness of speech that Montgomery showed as she seemed to tell every bit of Emily's story with care and reflection.  For anyone who knows Anne, Emily is worth getting to know.

"Iron Legion" Released

My latest audio Iron Legion is available to order at the DWAD site.  Instructions for ordering are here.  In a few weeks it will be available for downloading on their site. It's about a world whose culture has been deeply affected by a very old foe of the Doctor's.  Here is the trailer for Iron Legion (RealAudio format).  Below is the cover art (click for a larger image):



My character Moira Skye is developing nicely... it's been great fun to record.  Julio and I have a "tradition" of listening to the king of infamous voice overs, Mr. Orson Welles, for "inspiration" before we start recording a story. The famous frozen peas commercial he did in 1968 is the best for a laugh.  I'm still waiting ever so patiently for reviews to come out on my last audio The Napoleon of Shadows.

I'll be recording my next story, Project Alpha, this month. 

In unrelated news, Disney will be releasing the Little Mermaid III in the next year. I never even knew they were planning one!  Well, anyone that needs an Ariel for their audiodramas can e-mail me.