The girl in my shower last night....

OK... before you think this is going to become one of those smutty blog sites that I always threaten (promise?) to do... the girl in my shower wasn't really there. I mean she was there but she wasn't really a girl. Technically. Though she had a girlish quality. And while I think Krista, as the only cosmically, hip artsy fartsy girl I know, is the only one who will understand what this all means.... here is the story for the masses.

I was washing off a bad day... OK, bad week.... and in my haste to jump in the shower, had skipped the mandatory brushing out the snarls of my faux blondilocks. So as I am shampooing, I run my fingers through the snarls and end up removing a huge chunk o hair. (And no.. I am not sick and keeping that from you guys... this is normal for me). What to do..... what to do....? I didn't want all that hair to go down the drain so I -- and this is an odd confession I suppose-- stuck it to the shower door so that I could finish my shower and dispose of the dreaded locks upon my departure. (Note to self: research viability of marketing shower waste cans.) Now remember-- I have shampoo in my hair so I am closing my eyes and rinsing and whatnot and so I didn't notice her right away. About the time I get to the conditioner stage -- the point where you just stand there and count "one one thousand, two one thousand..." and let the slimey stuff do its thing and enjoy steamy water jetting onto your shoulders and slump against the cold tile -- I saw her! Her back to me. Looking over her shoulder. I grabbed my cellie and took a couple of pictures.

Look. Closer. Squint a little if you have to. Click on the pic to enlarge. You see her now? I didn't touch her up or move a hair(pun intended)! She was just there. And truth be told - I was so amazed at seeing her that I didn't - couldn't - throw her away until she dried and fell from the door.

And so now I want to draw. Or paint. Or do something creative. I mean there was a girl in the shower... a muse perhaps... that's a sign.... right? I am suppose to wash away the boringness of my mundane existence and allow the muse to inspire me. And so that is my goal now. Look for inspiration in everything including clumps o hair and be the artist that I know that I am. Everyday.

Oh and by the way, thanks for not asking why i had my cellphone in the shower with me....

OK... Im back.... Nine new things...

A general announcement to the people who care about me... I have finally started rehab and I think its a positive thing in my life. I am finally ready to admit I have a problem and cut back on my addiction and hopefully it will lead to me being productive again and get me back to the important things like this blog. And to the people who made it so easy for me to be easy distracted and allowed me to lose myself to this hideous addiction I can only say... shame on you!

In fairness, and in my defense, I didn't see it coming. It snuck up on me. Silent. Stealthy. And consumed me to the point of sleeplessness! Anyone who has faced this situation knows what I am talking about. I have sought out professional help prior to now but perhaps until now I didnt really WANT help.... I mean it always made me feel good and who was I really hurting? But today... today.... I have finally walked out of the fog and made a decision... I will no longer be a slave to MySpace!

And so I pledge the following Nine Things:

1. I will limit myself to updating photos once a week.... unless I catch Marley in some ubercute puppy pose which, of course, everyone needs to see right away!

2. I will check my messages only once or twice a day instead of every hour... on the hour.... for 45 minutes at a time.

3. I will NOT respond to EVERY survey that I get unless its REALLY important stuff like "who was your last text message from" or "what's your favourite colour".

4. I will stop logging on to see if any one who works for me is also logged on while they are suppose to be working.

5. I will stop looking for just the right smiley icon to indicate my mood -- besides they dont have enough choices anyway... like where are "quirky", "underwhelmed", "perky" and "oddly superior"??

6. I will stop searching for the right pimped out, glittery backgrounds to define who I am... obviously a quirky, perky underwhelmed yet oddly superior goddess. There just isn't enough glitter out there.

7. I will stop sending "comments" to people who are actually in the next room (Krista), people that I text message all day (Rach) or people that I would love to hear on the phone (Jules).

8. I will stop replying to "friend requests" that are from people in Bumpkiss, NV who just want to share a secret way to make me rich. I think it's possible that they don't really have my best interests in mind.

9. And I will stop stressing over who's feelings will be hurt if they are not in my Top 10 Friends list.... and I will stop wondering why I am not in their Top 10 Friends list either even though I am certain that I am a much better friend then the 10 people already listed there.

And so there it is... my plan to regain snippets of my life and get back to blogging!! Hmmm.... of course.... I just realized... I will have to go on MySpace and post a bulletin to let all my friends know that I am blogging again... and I might as well check my comments while I am there....and post that last picture I found of us dressed like pirates... and it would be kind of impolite not to answer Misty's survey....

Damn you, MyCrackSpace!!

Well this doesn't bode well, does it? I mean.. here it is, my first blog of the critically acclaimed 2008 Do-Over Blog and already it's a day late! I've been trying to remember what I did yesterday that was more important than blogging...and, quite frankly, I am stumped. I was on time for the telemarketing job at 9am. I sat in a semi-comatose state until the 5 o'clock whistle. Came home... um... ate dinner... watched a movie... washed the dog... and then sat in front of my computer "talking" with Rach until I went to bed at 2:30am.

Nope. Nothing I did yesterday was more important than my first do-over blog. And yet... I didn't blog. I made some money, entertained myself and made the dog smell good. Necessary things all (especially making the dog smell better) but not more important than entertaining the 3 of you who still read my blog...and so i will endevour to do-over my do-over tomorrow... as soon as I figure something to talk about...

So keep a good thought for me, will you? Blog clog is a serious matter and not to be taken lightly....

When Lorrie Veasey talked me into doing this "blog" thing, I had visions of being so prolific that people would come from Farandnear and Nearandfar to read my witty little musings. I also had visions of finding the time to write said witty little musings and while I gave it a decent shot at first, I have come to the current realization....that I suck at this!

Ok... ok... I dont want to be too harsh on myself but... c'mon... the last entry was over FOUR months ago (give or take... I'm not too good at math) and even then it was an edited piece that I wrote over TWELVE months ago!

But now its 2008... and I am filled with renewed optimism and enthusiasism (and 2 glazed donuts but that another story). Therefore, I have a request of the 3 people who still occasionally drop me an email to see if I have fallen off the edge of the earth.... can I have a do-over?

I'll start tomorrow.... honest.....

October is Adopt-aShelter Dog Month

This is a re-edited, updated version of the post I wrote when I first got Marley, my shelter dog, back in Dec 2006. I just wanted to remind everyone that sometimes the best, most grateful, loving creatures are just waiting for you to find them...

I had lost my AKC Rottweiler, Brita, last October and was finally ready to get another dog. My daughter, Nikki, was home from college for the Christmas break so we had decided to see a breeder about getting a rott pup. I had the names and addresses of 3 breeders in my pocket, as a matter of fact, when I picked Nik up from an appointment near the Peninsula SPCA. We had some time before we had to be anywhere so we decided to stop and get some dog treats to feed the pound pups. Armed with cookies and chewies, we went from cage to cage, ignored signs (surely they weren't directed at US?) and stuck our hands through the bars and petted and fed the pups. We talked about how much fun it was going to be to pick out our own pup the next day.

..And then we saw HIM. He was laying with his back to the front of the cage & didn't look up to see us. I poked him. He was a beautiful colour. He didn't care that I poked him, so, of course, I poked him again. My daughter pointed out that his papers said he was a rott mix. Mixed with what? Something brown?

Nik said something to him and he turned his head to look at her. "Oh mom! Look how handsome he is!" Apparently he thought she was pretty too because he finally got up and paid attention to us. He was skinny and his ribs showed. His coat was dull but his eyes were full of hope and trust. He licked Nik's hand and then looked at me. I melted. Surely someone could not have dropped him off at a grocery store like his paperwork said? And certainly someone would be along soon to adopt him. I was just there to spread a little holiday cheer and doggie treats. I was getting a new puppy...not a used puppy. But he just kept looking at me...and somehow I knew that if I rescued this dog...he would rescue me right back.

I never did make it to see any of the breeders. On his adoption day, I was the only name on the list. I have no idea how that was even possible unless he wore his invisibility cloak when I wasn't there. I had the wrong paperwork that day, of course, and so the process took HOURS! Patience is a virtue...just not one of mine. All of this...for a dog no one wanted? I bit my tongue. I filled out new forms. I waited quasi-patiently.

Marley (named after Jacob not Bob) has been home now for 10 months. He weighed 35lbs when we got him -- he weighs about 75lbs now. He will sit. He will stay. He is fearless. He still will not come when he is called though he loves to hear his name. He is the fastest dog I have ever seen and cannot be caught with out a decent bribe. He is an explorer. This summer he discovered the ocean and defended the planet from dry seaweed. A few months ago he ate a book on the coffee table and the day before that he unwrapped a paint roller that I had on the counter and got white paint all over his paws and all over my hardwood floors. His latest reign of terror is to de-stuff throw pillows which he does when ever he sees me leave with my suitcase. He is a handful...and a heartful.

I should remind you that I am single, work 2 jobs to make ends meet and live in a small apartment. Marley doesn't seem to mind. It is larger than the cage I found him in. I have to get up a little earlier everyday for a long walk before work, and I try to take him for car rides when I can squeeze them in during the day. When I have to work longer days, I have friends drop by to let him out and toss him a treat. I'm tired when I finally get home but its now HIS/OUR time and we take a walk again. It is more than my RESPONSIBILITY, it is my PRIVILEGE.

In the grand scheme of things, not much beats that dog asleep on my feet at the end of the day. Adopt a shelter dog... it doesn't just change THEIR lives...it will change YOUR life...

More shameless self promotion....

Its just a start but here is the official, much-anticipated In Pieces Mosaic website! (OK so maybe I was the only one who was "much anticipating"....)

Take a look and let me know what you think (remembering of course that I have the fragile ego like most sensitive artists). I am still adding more photos and trying to track people down for testimonials (treading on dangerous ground there.) Before you Hamptonians ask... yes, the pictures of "the Duck" will be up soon!


Update 9/14: The Duck pics, as well as others, are up!

9 things you can do with a metal hanger

OK. I've been busy. I know I have not been here for y'all and I apologize. I understand my role is to entertain you. I have been remiss.
Now... having said that.... I got an email from Diane (aka the Kamikaze Killer) saying "I'd like to hear about wire hangers. I hate those things! They are the worst possible invention, don't you think?"

Well, heck no, D! They are a marvel of modern industry! Perhaps you are unaware of athe many uses of the wire hanger...


ONE: Of course, everyone knows that the most common use of the wire hanger is breaking into old cars. Not new cars mind you, just old cars... with mushroom shaped old door locks... and crank handle windows. The pre-slim jim answer to difficult auto entry.
Pure genius!

TWO: And speaking of old cars...what if you don't have a matchbook to jimmy under the 8-track tape in the player.. why sit in silence when you can use a good old-fashioned wire coat hanger as an antenna and at least get shitty am stations?
Brillant!

THREE: De-gunking the lint trap in your dryer. Apparently if you don't empty that often, it could start a fire and burn down your house while you are out! (Sorry, Jules... but it's a bizarre little phobia to have... which FYI, I couldn't find on the Phobia List anywhere... tho I DID find "Dipsophobia" which is a fear of drinking from which, luckily, none of us suffer.... but I digress...)
Safety!

FOUR: You can organize all your silk ties and scarves and... um... no... I am not gonna explain why I have a collection of silk ties to you people... you don't really want me to say it out loud anyway.
Kinky!

FIVE: Three little words: no cable channels.
Cheap!

SIX: Unless you have very skinny, long arms, you need a wire hanger for getting the dog bone that's somehow way under the couch... AGAIN... and is apparently SOOO much better than any of the other 9 dog bones which are located in the middle of the living room.
Convenient!

SEVEN: It will surprise no one that my favourite use for the wire hanger is the ever popular bubble wand! Step 1: Bend hanger into a heart-shape. (Don't ask me why... just follow directions!) Step 2: I have a heart-shaped cake pan (no... I don't bake... I bought to make a romantic meatloaf dinner in another life-time). Fill pan with water and dish detergent. Step 3: Release your inner child!
Fun!

EIGHT: You know that spot... yep... that one... right there between my shoulder blades... that itchy little spot where a lonely single girl (who no longer has a Hockey Boy around all the time) can't reach? Where's that danged wire hanger/back scratcher? OOOOOh yeah... that's better!
Satisfying!

NINE: Drying octopus in Indonesia. Yeah, okay, Sherlock... I had to cheat to come up with the last one.... like I have ever dried an octopus.... sheesh!
Um... ooky!

So you see, Diane, if it is mindless entertainment you seek... and I continue to let you down, you can always Google "coat hanger uses" and be amazed at the sheer ingenuity of the wire hanger!

Now the plastic spork.. that's my vote for worst possible invention...

A joke from Rach

A Man goes to dentist to have his tooth pulled.
The dentist takes out a needle to give the man a shot of Novocain.

"No way, no needles, I can't stand needles."

The dentist starts to hook up the laughing gas but the man again objects.

"No gas, please the mask on my face is
suffocating to me."

The dentist then asks if the man has any objection to taking a pill.

"No" said the patient "I'm fine with pills."

The dentist then returns and says "Here's a Viagra tablet."

The patient says "Wow, I didn't know Viagra worked as a pain pill."

"It doesn't" said the dentist "but it will give you something to hold on to when I pull out your tooth."

Thanks, Rach! LOL...and yes I realize that the only other joke I have passed on in my blog was also penis-related... I'm sure that says something about me or my sense of humour....

I've Got Mail

Okay... so here's the bad news....there seems to be a problem with my Pay Pal account and I need to spend some time sending out personal bank info to get it all straightened out. Of course, I am shocked by this turn of events as I gave up my Pay Pal account when I completed the 12 step program to beat my eBay addiction. The email goes on to say: "If you choose to ignore our request, you leave us no choice but to temporaly suspend your account." Can they do that?! Temporaly? I had no idea!

But, hey, it wasn't all bad....The good news is that apparently I have won some international lottery and will soon be rolling in 1 million euros! Thanks to the whole Pay Pal debacle, I will have already come up with the personal bank info that they need in order to put that moolah in my account. And.... then I can use all my new money on that good deal I just got offered on Viagra to make my penis hard all night...

9 possible blog themes

As I pointed out in an earlier post, I am a theme-less blogger....and, trust me, I am okay with that (underachiever that I am) but it has been brought to my attention that blogging can be a JOB! One can make money BLOGGING..... if... one has... oh, perhaps....a marketable THEME....that attracts readers.... and thus sponsors. I have to say that I like the flexi-blogger schedule and so I am gonna look into this...
Here is a list of things I'm tossing about...

1. Stuff my Dog Ate Blog: This would have to be interactive with people sending stories and pics of stuff their dogs ate since I am quickly running outta stuff for my dog to eat and he will, finally, have to resort to that stuff I keep in his bowl... you know...the DOG FOOD and that doesn't make for an interesting blog after the first couple of days.
Possible sponsors: Dr. Scholl's and Purina

2. Dead Roadside Animals I have Known Blog: This could also be interactive with people sending stories and pics of stuff they found on the side of the road. It might be more popular with people who live in areas where one can actually hit stuff other than people. NYCers will not get this. Everyone in Upstate NY will start digging through boxes of photos.
Possible sponsors: AAA and any restaurant in West Virginia.

3. Blogging for Beer: I could write reviews of a different beer everyday. Oh wait... I don't really drink beer. Hm... perhaps Cosmo reviews. Oh wait... what would I write on the second day? And would I even remember to blog on the third day? So..um...maybe no....
Possible sponsors: AA and any Karaoke bar.

4. Things I Overheard in a Bar Blog: Actually Rach and I could co-blog this one. She has ears like a dog (in ability not in shape). We could start with the one where the guy tells Rach (aka Officer L.) about his brother sending a $400 bong from Amsterdam through the mail or the guy who admitted to defecating in his pants on occasion. Upside is that all research would be in a BAR. Downside is that research could lead to a pricey BAR TAB.
Possible sponsors: Goodfellas or The TapHouse.

5. Drunk Food Blog: OK, that's as close to a cooking blog as I could come... unfortunately, I'm pretty sure that the people who are logging onto the web at 3:00 am are hardly ever looking for a good drunk food recipe...
Possible sponsors: Jack Daniels and Trojan

6. Bad Internet Dating Dates Blog: Heck I have enough stories to tell without making this one interactive for awhile... I could start with the guy who hacked my computer... the guy who took the plate of sample shrimp from the grocery store.... the guy who....guess I should save something for the blog. Hockey Boy could guest blog with his own stories.
Possible sponsors: Think I could get Match.com to be a sponsor? Ahem.

7. On-hold Muzak Review Blog: Can I just say that a utility that makes you wait 10-20 minutes before talking to a human (who inevitably will have an Indian accent) should be held to a higher standard of muzak? Who are the people who write this bland, quasi- jazzish "music"? I think people wanna know this kind of stuff.
Possible sponsors: Time Life Hits of Boxcar Willie or Sprint.

8. A Day in the Life of... Blog: Each day I pick a different celebrity and tell the readers what I think it would be like to be them. If I can't find interesting people, I'll make them up. Might be easier to do that anyway since the rehab centers probably wont give me visitation privileges.
Possible sponsors: See #5

9. Dumb Stuff I Did Today Blog: Oh wait... that's kinda what I do now....

What did he say?

You know that Daughtry song "Home"? Of course you do... it has been played every half hour on every radio station on the planet for ages now... and it was the kiss off song on American Idol which you know you watched even after our local boy Chris Whatshisname was kicked off.

Well last week one of my precious little summer art campers was singing along:

"Be careful what you wish for
cause you just might get IT ALL
you just might get IT ALL..."

Except she actually sang:
"Be careful what you wish for
cause you just might get A DOG
you just might get A DOG..."

As the owner of a outofcontrol, areyoutalkingtome used pup, I have to say, singing the new version in my head has made it easier for me to listen to it play 20 times a day...

9 things that make me smile...

1. Little girls in supermarkets wearing tutus: Extra smiles if cowboy boots are an accessory to the tutu. You almost have to laugh out loud when you realize that her mom is saving up for a bigger, more important fight sometime in the future (like a tramp stamp tattoo or dating the guy with the bone through his nose) than what to wear to the grocery store. Smart lady. (And when/why did I stop feeling like wearing a tutu to the store?)

2. Sidewalk chalk art: I love any type of creative drawing and even when you see abandoned sidewalk drawings...if you are very quite...you can hear the giggling. Shh. Listen....

3. Lemonade stands on the corner: Just have to love when capitalism meets Skippy, the neighbor's kid. Buy a glass. Ask for a refill. Someday all of this will be his. Best to suck up now.

4. Bikers who strap stuffed animals to their Harleys: Its always the biggest, baddest, long-haired, tattooed biker too. And a it's fuzzy teddy bear... sometimes in a matching Harley jacket. I'm not sure what the deal is but I will say that it never fails to make me smile. Ever.

5. Bubbles: I love to blow bubbles. Marley, my used pup, loves to chase bubbles. We are both, obviously, easily amused. You see bubbles at weddings now instead of rice (is that exploding bird thing even real or just a myth created by the people who have to sweep up after?). Point being...I think bubbles are good, clean (haha) fun.

6. Moms wearing macaroni necklaces: Usually seen for a few days after Mother's Day. The more glitter on the macaroni... the bigger the smile from me.

7. Baby anythings: puppies, ducklings, even humans...as long as they are someone else's...and sleeping...awwwww

8. Big guys with little dogs: Somewhere on a couch, amid the bonbons, sits a princess who has that guy so whipped that he is willing to "walk" her precious pooch in public. Hey, musclehead... a chiwawa or a min pin can NOT be macho even if she name him "Brutus"... which she didn't... so you have to call him "Boopsie"...even in public.. hehehe

9. Well thought out vanity plates: I"m not talking RED CAR or BOBS VW here... personally I think you should be able to shoot those guys with BB GUNS. I'm talking something that makes me think... challenges me while I'm stuck in traffic in a car with no A/C and no radio... My personal best was WUDA BCH (which the DMV girl thought was "wooooo da beach" which is NOT what anyone who knows me thought). Hockey Boy once had PINOT NV (remember he used to be Wine Guy). How about this one...GR82SH? OK, you 8 faithful readers... whatcha got?... go ahead, make me smile....

Shameless self promotion

I have a new page just for my art at myartspace.com

(okay... so the url is actually http://www.myartspace.com/artistInfo.do?populatinglist=home&subscriberid=20gewebl49skcwk1 but who can remember that? Just click the link up there or search for me by artist name: Brassard)

Don't judge... I'm still working on it!

Thanks!

Ah... the pressures of having a blog...

It was brought to my attention by my newest reader and former BFF that I don't blog everyday and therefore leave her with a hole in her day. Apparently, I am single-handedly responsible for taking up a few minutes of her time at work and without my witty musings she is forced to...well...work I guess. My apologies, Michele and I suggest you check out YouTube for cute videos about chiwawas on those days I don't blog. Try this one.
.
During the same conversation, someone asked me what the "theme" of my blog was. Hmm... theme? Am I suppose to have a theme? Really? I'm gonna have to think about that one and get back to you on it.

Of course the hardest part of blogging isn't that I really have nothing interesting to say.. you all know that already. I should end all my stories with "...and then I found 5 bucks" to make it seem at least slightly interesting but not many of you would be fooled. No, the hardest part is remembering who reads this stuff and making sure that I don't say something wrong. Hockey Boy reads it so I try not to ramble on about.. well, stuff that might make him blush. And if I said anything that might make HIM blush, imagine what it would do to my daughter (who probably reads my blog in a quiet dark corner with lots of denial about her heritage) and my mom (who thankfully hasn't taught my father how to access my blog). I don't think I could say anything to embarrass the rest of you though you can rest assured that I will continue to try to think of something.

So... I continue to babble on about my life and thoughts in a somewhat watered-down version of reality... or maybe it's my life that is really watered-down... hey, wait.... is that a theme?

Somethings are too important...

Just passing information about how insurance companies are treating mastectomy patients (its appalling) that I read on LV's blog ...which I assume you are all as addicted to as I am... what? I put a link up for you guys a couple of weeks ago... see?... its right over there...to the right.... your other right, doofus.... go there when you finish reading here... everyday, not just now... you never know when she might actually find time amid running the world and being SuperMom to finding time to wittily blog again....but I digress....as usual....

If you don't have time to read LV's blog, just go straight to this petition.
Sign it. Pass it on. What are you waiting for?

Thanks.

Relationship Revelation

It was a bit windy as Hockey Boy and I sat waiting for Tanya Tucker to finish singing so that the fireworks could start at Fort Monroe. There were small children running amok with blinkie, battery-operated dolphin & starfish necklaces and people chatting all around us so it made having a conversation a bit hard at times.

Me: I wish I had a blinkie thing.
HB: I was gonna bring one.
Me: Really? You have a blinkie thing?
HB: Oh. No, I thought you said "blanket".

And while the fireworks exploded overhead, ladies and gentlemen, I realized that I finally had a summary of my relationship with this boy.... I am a blinkie thing and he is a blanket.

I am frivolous and scattered. He is focused and organized.

I am a Type Q to his Type A personality.

I can name all the members of the Rolling Stones. He has actually met them and can still only remember Mick What's-his-name.

He knows the five mother sauces and I don't even know what a mother sauce is, let alone possess the ability to name all five (and are there father sauces, I wonder?)

He folds clothes as they come out of the warm dryer. I wear the wrinkled clothes thinking it will be dark where I'm going...who will notice? And even if they do, who would be rude enough to tell me i looked like I slept in my outfit?

He washes his/my/my friend's car... regularly. I have empty McD bags stuffed in between my back seats that are older than my dog.

He is Abercrombie & Fitch. I am Allcrumbly & Bitch.

He watches sports on a wide screen TV with 3 different remotes and a strict sequence of button pushing that makes sense only to someone who understands how to launch the space shuttle. I have been known to start a good book while I waited for reinforcements when I couldn't figure out how to get the blue screen that says LINE 1 to turn into a TV show. I am not sure what LINE 1 is (besides blue) or if I have (or need) more LINES.

He is single-handedly keeping alive the posies that my dad planted for me. I forget to dust the plastic decorative tree in the living room.

Sure... we have a lot in common as well...like...for example...don’t rush me....ah, he likes to cook FOOD and I like to eat FOOD...so we have going for us. And the dog likes us both though he has been known to play favorite depending on which of us has the treats. And, of course, there are a few things that we both enjoy that I would mention if I didn't know that my daughter AND my mother read my blog.

So how have we ended up together? Easy... as he reached for my hand during the fireworks finale... I realized that even a blanket kinda boy needs a little blinkie thing once in awhile.

Happy 4th!

Toe-say can you see.....

Giving credit/blame where it's due: The patriotic toenail painting was Hockey Boy's idea. The bad intro into my version of the National Anthem was all me, of course.

Special note to Hockey Boy and Rach: You guys were right. Now that I have seen them in a photo, I have to agree that its time to let the sandals go. This weekend I will search for a new pair in earnest (note that that is a lowercase "e"... not an uppercase "E"... I will not be shoe shopping in an actual person....unless, of course, they are cheaper and/or cuter that way).

Men in Trees

"Here the odds are good but the goods are odd."

Theresa to Marin about the 10 to 1 ratio of men to women in Elmo, Alaska

Afraid

I am not afraid of anything...except really, really big bugs, falling off a bridge, sharp knives and, now apparently, young thugs with guns. The fact that I was able to add this last fear to my list means that my weekend went oddly awry on Saturday. It means that instead of posting a blog about how amazing my dad is for Father's Day, I got to spend time at the police station trying to find the face of the nervous punk who challenged my faith in the goodness of all people.

I should have...I could have...what? Walked home a different way? Left earlier? Later? Been more aware? Yeah sure...any of those would have put us in a different space at a different time... but so what? Everyone assures me that it could have happened anywhere...at anytime... and I think that is what scares me most.

My personal motto is that it is not the situations that you face that define you. It is how you deal with the situations that define who you are. Hockey Boy was brave at the time and has handled everything since with equal bravery. I tried to be brave as well but was not successful. I apparently am not built that way. So now I am trying to not let it define me. I do not want to be afraid to walk in my neighborhood. I do not want to be afraid of every young black kid I see on the sidewalk. I do not want to believe that there is no goodness in people.

I was shaken up but I was not hurt. This is my focus. It could have been a whole lot worse. The officer who accidentally drove up in the middle of this drama and chased the kid...was that just us being lucky... or someone up there still believing in me even though I stopped believing years ago? How many signs do I need?

I will endeavor to be more aware...looking out for thugs with guns...and for really, really big bugs with knives trying to force me off a bridge.

A joke from Jules...

What did we ever do before the technology to get jokes daily from our friends in Georgia was available? This joke arrived in my inbox today and made me laugh, and while I have already forwarded it to most of you who read this, I didn't want anyone to feel left out. Besides I am suffering a severe case of Blog Clog caused mainly by trying to remember who reads this and deciding what I can say with out giving away secrets causing parental embarrassment, relationship failures or breaches of national security.

A male patient is lying in bed in the hospital, wearing an oxygen mask over his mouth and nose, still heavily sedated from a difficult four hour, surgical procedure.

A young, student nurse appears to give him a partial sponge bath. Nurse", he mumbles, from behind the mask. "Are my testicles black?" Embarrassed, the young nurse replies, "I don't know, Sir. I'm only here to wash your upper body and feet."

He struggles to ask again, "Nurse, are my testicles black?" Concerned that he may elevate his vitals from worry about his testicles, she overcomes her embarrassment and sheepishly pulls back the covers. She raises his gown, holds his penis in one hand and his testicles in the other, lifting and moving them around.

Then, she takes a close look and says, "There's nothing wrong with them, Sir!!"

The man pulls off his oxygen mask, smiles at her and says very slowly, "Thank you very much. That was wonderful, but, listen very, very closely...

A r e - m y - t e s t - r e s u l t s - b a c k?"


Thanks for the giggle, Jules!