Spla-choo: Daily Comedic Adventures of an Allergy-Ridden, Technical-Writing Psychic

X'celle

2008-08-09T10:49:00.003-04:00

Ep-i-lation time come on! (to the tune of "Celebration Time")

Everyone who knows me knows that I am better off not handling sharp objects. When I was a child during a blackout at a family dinner, I just about sliced the tip of my thumb off with a butter knife. Shaving as a teen was pretty primeval. I had a strip of scar all down my shin bone- mmmm, pretty! Even now, when I choose to shave, I get at least a few wounds at the knee and ankle.

However, I have discovered the holy grail, the intersection of cheap and effective: epilation instead of shaving! Now, I have heard the horror stories about the Epilady. But the Epilady seems barbaric in comparison to my new toy, the X'celle.

Basically the X'celle is a bunch of little tweezers to pull out body hair (mostly leg, I think). Don't get me wrong, this is no Swedish massage. But it was not horrible, just unpleasant. I didn't need any soap, cream, etc. I didn't cut myself. And I didn't have to balance like the Karate Kid in the shower.

I also tend to be rather low maintenance, at least bodily, which means no beauty item (even the things that seem vital to most women in their 30's) gets done every day, or even every week! I actually shelled out for eyebrow waxing a couple weeks ago, since I was starting to look a little Neanderthal. The stylist at JC Penney's was a little horrified, but he solidered on and gave me a very nice "line", which I gather is the technical term for eyebrows that are appropriately weeded. This comes after the Short Brow Incident, which involves me, one of those little pen-sized facial hair electric razors, and overzealous trimming until I looked ridiculous for months.

Now, I won't be applying the X'celle to anything South of the Border for any time soon (usually I go au naturel), but I did try my armpit. I got one done, then realized that I shouldn't do the other one since I had a bit of a heat rash there. So it is a party on the right and smooth, almost, on the left. It turns out that armpit hair has very deep roots. I wonder why?

Anyhow, I hope nobody takes this to mean I am a hair dictator. I know women have the same rights, genetically and socially, to body hair. I just kinda wanted to femme it up a notch. And since I'm not planning on gracing the hallowed halls of Weight Watchers anytime soon, nor packing my face with layers of foundation and pretty colored toxins, I figure that a little landscaping is the least I can do for my partner.

Next week I do the right armpit, which is twice as bad as the legs. Not terrible, just a little counterintuitive like going up in a roller coaster. You know that bad shit could happen, but it probably won't.

Anyway, not that anyone reads this thing, but if you do, welcome me back to blogging!~

Supastar

2008-02-16T10:35:00.002-05:00

I have recently become involved in the fantastic OutLoud Chorus, Washtenaw County's LGBT chorus. The members are fantastic--of all ages and from different careers. I'm enjoying getting to know these folks. The singing is good for the soul. It reminds me of how much work it is to sing, but also how rewarding it can be when you really put some artistry into it. However, we don't get too serious, so if anyone screws up they don't get in any trouble! There are always wisecracks and smiles in the group.

Our last concert (my first with the chorus) was A Choir Cabaret. We sang "Fever", "Flip Flop Fly", "Swinging on a Star", and many other favorites. The little flair we added at the end with clapping, movements, etc. was fun. Perhaps we should start earlier next time so everyone can remember their parts! In one we are supposed to end the song by smirking at somebody sitting next to us. Lorrel and I had trouble not cracking up. I do admit I can have pretty funny faces, even without trying. My little solo part (a verse of SoaS) was awesome. I liked the attention and a lot of people I didn't know complimented my mini-performance and said I had presence on stage. That means a lot since I haven't been able to be on stage in a long time, since my performance as Fred in Once Upon a Mattress in senior year of high school. In an alternate reality, I might have been an actor. Perhaps now I'll get involved with community theatre around here.

SUPASTAR!

It seems like there is so much to do and so little time. I want to become all kinds of people in one lifetime. I know that won't happen. But I shall list them here.

Current aspirations of people to be:
-Professional psychic
-Lounge act singer
-Organic gardener
-Novelist
-Artist
-Savvy businessperson

(um, indpendently wealthy wouldn't be bad)

Much love to all,
RI/Amy

I've got tasty balls...

2007-12-08T11:26:00.000-05:00

...fruitcake balls!

I've created a scrumptious way to use leftover homemade mincemeat. I had thought of using it in my yogurt in the morning, but then, rum raisin yogurt seemed a little over the top for breakfast. So, I made Fruitcake Balls.

2 - 3 c. meat-free mincemeat
8 dates
1 c. coconut
1.5 c. almond meal
1 c. mixed walnuts and almonds (soaked and dehydrated, as in NT)
1 tsp. almond extract

Blend the mincemeat in a food processor until pretty smooth- not like a paste, but between a paste and a fine minced texture. Add the dates and blend again. Add the dried, unsweetened coconut. Add the nuts (leave a 1/4 cup out). Add enough almond meal so that the mixture starts to make a thick "dough". Kind of like the texture of meatball mix. Add the extract. A couple tablespoons of good rum would be excellent in this (I didn't add it, since the mincemeat was already a touch rummy). Then blend the 1/4 c. nuts until they are chopped (not minced) for a little texture.

Roll the mixture into balls, then roll each ball in cocoa powder. Store in a plastic container in the refrigerator.

These are great once the earthy flavor of the cocoa integrates with the fruitiness of the mincemeat and the buttery nuts.

This could be a cookie that even non-health-food types would like!

Perfect Pitch

2007-12-08T11:02:00.000-05:00

Musicians and songsters dream about the miracle of having perfect pitch: being able to start on the right note every time without a musical instrument. My latest musical discussions and activities have made me think about my life, the perfect pitch of it, right now.

My authentic voice is coming out now, very frequently. The voice may not be lovely all the time, skilled, or even passable-- but it is authentic. I'm shining forth with myselfness-- and it makes me more able to be full of loving-kindness, genuine curiosity about the world, and a spirited way of living in the now.

So what am I doing?

1) I am not doing Christmas presents this year. I decided that my family and friends would be better off with a genuine expression of my love. So, I will send a carefully-written Christmas letter, full of our family's adventures. Who needs another $15 gift card to Applebee's, anyhow? This is the best Christmas ever. I'm planning for the joviality of Christmas: the songs! The laughter! Catching up with people. Socializing. Quiet moments with my family and friends. The beauty of nature and all its works. Christmas carols! Pretty lights!

2) I've joined the OutLoud chorus. Yes, I am partnered with a man, but we are both bi, but I'm in the LGBT chorus. Although this concept is a little alien to my fellow choristers, we have a fantastic time learning songs and joking around. Everyone is remarkably cheerful and friendly. Once again I'm stretching my voice, practicing my performance skills, and paying attention to the length of notes and the flow of the lyrics. The concert is in February. What's more, the concert focuses on my favorite tunes--torch songs and toe tappers! What a great way to add joy to the world, and meet people.

3) I'm holding fast to my nutritional goals. I'm not sneaking white flour brownies, aspartamey soda pop, or naughty carb-only meals. I remain headache-free, tummyache-free, and lighter than usual. This doesn't mean that I don't have sweets. I did create a fantastic dessert, which is in the next blog article: fruitcake balls!

4) I'm developing career-wise. I requested some development of my marketing skills at my workplace, and it seems my bosses are glad to oblige me. Even with a lot of churn in the department, they respect me enough to help me grow into a position I'm proud and excited to fill every day. They've praised my flexibility, intelligence, and knowledge. So, being bold enough to ask for more has worked. No, I didn't ask for more money, I asked for more change-- and I got it!

5) I'm building community. I helped plan a party for my psychic/meditation group. Violeta, an instructor, was gracious enough to offer her home for the gathering of the Ann Arbor/Detroit area folks. I even met a lot of the new people, talking about spiritual healing of pets, and enjoyed making naughty jokes that cracked the group up. Ah, the joys of malt beverage. Someone brought in raspberry "beer" that turned out to be like a Zima! Just half of one and I was on fire. People kept saying they should give me more alcohol all the time. I love my peeps.

So, those are just a few examples of how I'm living in harmony with my deeper goals. So: "Hit me with a hot note and watch me bounce!"

The First Thanksgiving

2007-12-01T11:42:00.000-05:00

On the first thanksgiving, the woman of the house's twin sister came to visit and prepare the fine repast. A mighty pot of bubbling mincemeat was prepared using the finest dried fruits in the land, as well as the oldest Scotch in existence from the man of the house's elderly aunt's house (Goddess rest her soul).

The frozen Butterball was defrosted for many moons. It rested in the downstairs, elderly Frigidaire, decoupaged with shelf-liner daisies and laced with rust.

The house was prepared for an influx of family from across the state. As the tired homeowners tried to whip their box-filled home into shape, things started to happen that were as miraculous as Rion being able to avoid putting five packets of sugar in her coffee! The small display cases on the mantle were filled with small objects collected by PJ. The artwork and tribal masks were hung. Alas, there were still no mug-racks mounted, but the location started to shape up.

As the evening wore on, dishes were washed and rewashed, five pounds each of carrots, potatoes, celery, and onions were all chopped. Potatoes were cooked, peeled, and mashed (yes, in that order, my Grandma's method). Two versions of stuffing and potatoes were prepared (one avoiding lactose, the other vegetarian). And ah, the twins and the PJ were tired.

The next day they awoke in time to wrassle the 28 pound turkey out of it's latex sexwear, rinse it, remove the plastic bags of internal organs and the neck, salt and pepper it, stuff the cavities with chopped onions and celery, and cover it with an equally sensuous double crossed layer of non-organic bacon (sorry folks, couldn't go OG with the turkey, too expensive).

After a coffee break, the house began to get a little cleaner, and the last minute details like kittie hairballs were taken care of. The television kindly provided America's Parade from downtown Detroit.

Then guests began to arrive and it was all a blur. There was bagged stuffing to prepare, jelled cranberry to locate (not my preference), dishes to reheat, and crescent rolls to roll and cook. There were drinks to be delivered and pets underfoot.

Ah, what a marvelous family (although we lacked many individuals from the Chesbro clan),

a marvelous house, a marvelous first Oakwood thanksgiving, amongst all the chaos, pots, and the pans.

Weird Cuisine

2007-12-01T11:23:00.000-05:00

I've entered the strange and mysterious realm of the kefirphiliac, cultured-food nut. My fridge and cupboard contain colonies of beneficial bacteria and yeasts that will colonize my internal ecology with happy enzymes and bad-bacteria fighting power.

I am making water kefir, milk kefir, and yogurt-- doing things one is usually not used to doing like leaving things out to grow bacteria! I'm eating food that makes my coworkers cringe like radish kim chee (spelling is really variable) from the local Korean restaurant.

I'm also healthier in body than I have been in about a decade. Weight Watchers didn't do it. I lost weight, but used my points to "buy" McDonald's Chicken McNuggets(R) and low fat Twinkies. When I went off it, the weight came back with friends. I'm managing not to drink soda pop. My frequent headaches and digestive distress are a thing of the past.

Thank you Nourishing Traditions (a "counterculture" nutrition guide/cookbook) and Dr. Debra Alspector who encouraged me to read up on the NT folks. It's bizarre (you soak your grains, eat fermented foods), high in fat (yum, full fat yogurt and butter and milk), and contains meat (gasp! but they are happy animals that get to pasture). What's more, a little less-processed sweetening is okay, like evaporated cane juice (succanat), raw honey, and maple syrup.

Thank you, also, to DOM, who is just about the most famous kefir guru out there, and who publishes his (very scientific and detailed) knowledge about kefir and other ferments to the web.

So ya think I'm a little crazy. Crazy but feeling like a million bucks, and not starving doing it.

2007-11-20T16:29:00.000-05:00

What Famous Leader Are You?
personality tests by similarminds.com

Okay, cool, I'll be Mama Theresa. I was sad to hear on NPR of her existential crisis during midlife (she felt out of communion with Christ, which for her was quite excruciating). Thanks to FranIAm for the idea!

The Best Raw Chocolate "Chip" Cookie EVER

2007-11-16T08:53:00.000-05:00

This recipe, although it doesn't look like a chocolate chip cookie, replicates a lot of the flavors. It is packed with nutrients and protein, and will keep a long time in the fridge.

It is prepared with Nourishing Traditions/ Eat Fat, Lose Fat style. Soaking of the nuts and grains helps reduce phytate content. Having a little moisture in the oats also helps keep the cookie together.

Ingredients (measurements estimated, I just dumped "the right amount" into a bowl)
1/2 c. raw honey
1 1/4 c. rolled old-fashioned oats soaked in water with 2 tbsp. plain whole yogurt for 1 hour, then drained in a towel and slightly dehydrated in a preheated (but not "on") 400F oven for about an hour-- they won't be crispy (you could use whole or steel cut oats with a longer soak and a blend)
1/2 c. cocoa nibs (just plain cocoa nibs, no chocolate coating or any weird flavors)
1 c. "crispy nuts" from EFLF book (I used 1/4 walnuts, 3/4 almonds) or just plain raw nuts
2/3 c. creamy natural peanut butter
2/3 c. dehydrated coconut chips or shreds (no sweetened coconut, please)
1/4 c. coconut oil
pinch of grey sea salt (don't use refined stuff, please)

Then mix everything (it might take your hands, clean and greased with butter or coconut oil). Taste it to make sure you like the proportion of ingredients. Adjust if needed, and form into sticky balls. Place balls on a cookie sheet and let them dry out a little. Then put everything in an old (clean) yogurt tub or Tupperware(c) in the fridge. If you really wanted to get fancy you could blend/process a portion of the mixture so that they stick together better. I didn't take the time. I might try that sometime and dehydrate them.

These are seriously dense cookies. Don't eat more than one at a meal, or any health effects will be negated by overage of calories! Somehow this combo of flavors makes for one darn good chocolate chip cookie, and a fun way to use cocoa nibs. You can make this vegan by subbing the honey for another light sweetener like agave syrup, malt syrup, or thickened maple syrup. You could amp up the health qualities by putting in wheat germ or ground flaxseed-- but it would take away some of the chocolate chippiness.

Shameless Cross Posting

2007-11-10T12:41:00.000-05:00

Raj has ideas like others have heartbeats, each one racing and raving in his subconscious like a loon. Not that the observer can notice, but Raj is on fire. Each silent moment intensifies the forging heat where he focuses his attention. When he jokingly kissed your hand in Organic Chemistry, why did you flinch away from his sandalwood skin? For in this one moment all of his ideas and passions were distilled into one simple devotional act towards you. You could have become a patroness to his peculiar genius, were you not blinded by the faint scent of curry, the cheap shoes.

http://sixsentences.blogspot.com/2007/11/cheap-shoes.html

Check out Six Sentences. An addictive daily read.

Raw Milk Angst

2007-10-17T17:32:00.000-04:00

I need your help.
If you know about the pros and cons of raw milk, please chime in. I just read about 10 articles from the Dairy Journal that warn that raw milk is a public health risk, and not any better in nutrition. Meanwhile, my alternative doctor is saying that drinking raw milk is far better in nutrition, with better accessible nutrients, and that it is not worth drinking pasteurized milk at all. To make matters worse, the raw milk is illegal and expensive. One has to purchase a cow share in order to drink it.

I'm looking for you folks in California to chime in!

I am all psyched about trying the guidelines set forth in Eat Fat, Lose Fat by Fallon and Enig...then I read these articles and it took the wind from my sails.

Any ideas?

Brittany Spears, Spaniels, Columbian Coffee, Yarn, Playthings, Best HDTV, Christian Rock, Linux, History of Sprain

2007-10-06T10:28:00.000-04:00

Real Title: Blogging Around
Today my goal is to discover ten cool blogs.

Fistacuffs. This site is a contest site for artists who are challenged to draw wonderful superheros, or other such characters. The creativity of these artists is paramount. It is wonderful to see so many different types of artistry-- from the sacred to the profane and everything in between. Check out Maple Ann Eggs by Rosemary VanDeuren.
Gay Uganda. "The sun rises, and goes down. The rain falls, and clouds sweep across the skies. And the day is still beautiful, when there is rain and when there is sunshine. I never knew that I would ever get this mastery of the language that I use in writing. I mean, a secret. I stammer. Considerably!" Can this quote say it all for me? What a discovery!
Vegan Lunch Box. Check out May 7. What a wonderful excuse to be creative: Lunch! Those vegans are creative of necessity, and even omnivores can benefit.
Origami Tessellations. The nature of folded paper at its most intricate. Meditative.
ilovetypography. The curves and lines of a good typeface bring us back to the beauty of the beginnings of language and letters. Such subtlety. The microcosm of how we print what we are trying to express is important and poetic.
Risley Ranch. Creative types on the other side of the spectrum. I was snagged by this wondeful piece about the tao of milking a cow. A lot of content about social networking. Check out Micro Persuasion, as well.
Philly Roller Girls. Click on a team name, then an individual skater's name. The outfits are out of this world!
7 Color Lagoon. Despite some weird formatting, this blog has diverse and fascinating topics, nice photos.
Visual Mumbling. A photoblog that looks on middle America with incredible sensitivity and reverence.
Big Fat Deal. A size acceptance blog (in other words, it is okay to be a big beautiful woman!). Charming: it doesn't hit you over the head with political talk, just about being fat and gorgeous. Loving it! I am currently working on getting healthy, but my goal weight is still considered "moderately obese". Pshaw!

Sitting in the Back of Your Own Classroom, Meditating

2007-09-29T11:51:00.000-04:00

How to learn your life's path for today

---
Last night's episode of NUMB3RS mentioned the concept of sitting in the back of your own classroom. While I am aware that such a source is none too literary, I felt it deserved credit for this response.
---

How many times have you given good advice about interpersonal issues? We all do it. We urge lovers to leave unfaithful spouses; unfaithful spouses to fess up; grumpy coworkers to cheer up and do the best with their tasks, even when passed over for raises.

Likewise, how many times have you talked about ways to lower the fat in traditional dishes; get more exercise; train dogs properly; stay calm.

So, we're all great teachers. But can we be good students? Can we listen to our own advice?

This is where reflection comes in. A meditation practice can assist us in being truthful with ourselves, and in following our own best advice. Regardless of whether the meditation is active or silent, chanting or praying, religious or secular, it can help us focus and remember our own worth, our intuition, and our intrinsic value as spirits in this world.

Hint: I'm teaching you so I can get the reminder. Blessed be.

At last! A mint-free, licorice-free, fruit-free toothpaste

2007-09-29T11:31:00.000-04:00

Picture (©Tom's of Maine)

My partner has a strange, yet passionate aversion to mint. This makes toothpaste an issue. No minty freshness is welcomed in our household. However much I like mint (and peppermint patties, and Junior Mints, and candy canes, and mint chocolate kisses, and creme de minthe) I eschew it at home for my sweetie. He is also displeased with anise/licorice. Life has been difficult in the toothpaste aisle.

Now he likes Close Up, since it is a gel that is cinnamony. However, it never really wowed me. Gels, perhaps, are not my favorite. So for years I've been hunting for a toothpaste that would make my mouth feel fresh, while not grossing out my partner. The fruit pastes just don't do it for me.

Now I have discovered Tom's of Maine Cinnamon-Clove Whole Care toothpaste. It tastes yummy (sweetened by xylitol) and is pleasantly, but not overwhelmingly, spicy. What's more, it is whitening, and adds almost a polished feel to the tooth. Unfortunately, it does have floride, which is much discussed as not healthful, but the amount is about half that in a standard toothpaste. It does have clove oil, which might actually have a mild numbing effect on the gums prior to flossing, although it is not billed as such by Tom's of Maine.

So, on behalf of those trying to avoid mint everywhere, Thank You Tom's of Maine!

Factoid: Recently I learned that nursing mothers try to avoid mint as it could have a lessening effect on milk production. Fascinating!

No shit, Sherlock! (AKA: Scat got your tongue?)

2007-09-27T17:03:00.000-04:00

Once in a great while we discover something so unusual, so undeniably logical, that we must spread the word. Say hello to the squat toilet, brand-named Nature's Platform.

Apparently, the way we poo is bad for our bodies. A western-style toilet is not ergonomic. It bends the colon in a way that increases the risk of many diseases and conditions, including cancer, sexual issues, and incontinence. Good grief! Check out the site for evidence of actual scientific studies on the subject, many, many shitty studies.

These folks in North Carolina have designed a platform from which one might, shall we say, do our duty for Gods, Goddesses, and Country, in a squatting position (only feet touch the floor). What's more, it folds up for people who'd rather risk a kinky colon than squat.

Many other counries have similar notions. Like Japan.

In any case, it could improve muscle tone. Check it out!

How to Write a Novel in 30 Days

2007-09-24T14:24:00.000-04:00

Writing a novel is a gruelling task. Creating characters that are multidimensional, a plot that is interesting, and conflicts that are meaningful is difficult. However, there is an easy way to write a novel in 30 days.

Just do it.

That's right. Quit complaining, procrastinating, outlining, and staring at the computer screen and write like your life depends on it for 30 days. Crap will emerge. However, from that crap you can craft your skillful epic, florid romance, experimental science fiction, or murder-mystery.

National Novel Writing Month gives you a good excuse to make it happen. When you sign up, you have extra impetus to write madly like a fiend for the entire month of November. You can get support and research assistance from other writers. At the end of the month, you emerge a novelist, having written 50,000+ words. Not only do you have a great manuscript to start editing, you also have removed any writer's block you may have experienced.

How is this possible?

Only writing is included in the month time frame (editing and fine tuning comes later)
Preparations can be made (you can come up with a plot and characters prior to writing)
Other writers locally and nationwide can help goad you into compliance

There are other ways to prepare yourself.

Learn about standard character development
Determine the genre of your work
Decide upon the main "take-aways" of your novel
Write a personal journal to warm up
Research any historical or geographical details
Think about the conflicts that guide the action in the novel

NaNoWriMo, as National Novel Writing Month is colloquially called, is becoming a phenomenon. Of the 79,000 participants in 2006, 13,000 completed their novels. Those are pretty good odds considering the number of times most of us have "decided to complete a novel" and then reneged.

Many thanks to the folks at NaNoWriMo for inspiring us to create, and fast!

Does the deodorant crystal work?

2007-09-24T10:11:00.000-04:00

Please forgive the risque topic, but I must sing the praises of a product that I was dubious about: the armpit crystal. It works!

Not to give too much information, but as a demonstration:

I showered on Saturday night, applied the crystal. I didn't even have to wet it since my armpits were already moist from showering.
I proceded to geocache for four hours on Sunday, in the sun, clambering up hills and down trails.
In the evening I did 45 minutes on the treadmill, and did sweat.
And this morning, without a second application, I am still fresh as a daisy.

It is almost nicer than having antiperspirant, since that makes me feel kind of "air tight". I know that it isn't good for skin to be clogged up with chemicals.

Score one for Mother Earth, zero for stinky antiperspirants! Hurrah Nature! Yay me!

Reading the Dictionary

2007-09-21T09:04:00.001-04:00

Sometimes I think I write creatively just to have an opportunity to use big words. Their texture and history, their mouth-feel-- all in a package with high density and gravitational pull. Each word is embedded with meaning, an abracadabra.

Often I have been chid for using the wrong words, by those of many stripes. Some feel it is not democratic enough--or that I am waving my Ivory Tower education around like a pirate flag. Others think it is precocious; I am unseasoned, too wet behind the ears to grasp such concepts at a visceral level.

As a child, I used words like dearth and mercurial, not because I wanted abject alienation, but because they were the best words I knew for the circumstance. Eventually, I learned that talking like a thesaurus was not the best way to win friends and influence people, so I allowed the ubiquitous "like" and "man" to enter my spoken vocabulary.

Now, as a technical writer, I have started using computing terms in daily life. These are the terms that just come to the surface quickly, always at hand. So instead of saying "think before you act" I say "consider the number of variables".

Words are like little treats to me, tapas, dim sum, petits four. The inexaustible supply is an invitation. I either horde them away, using "defenestration" only when absolutely necessary, or consume them like teenage boys at a Roman orgy.

Guess my strategy for the next millenium?

Yps-Witch

2007-09-20T12:31:00.000-04:00

I am a nature-centric, tree-lovin, spirit-belivin, chant intonin, bona fide, Wiccan. I live in Ypsilanti, Michigan. I would like to find a mentor in this path who lives nearby and is not too into hierarchical relationships (as in, I do not want to "do your bidding"--I'm looking for someone who wants to celebrate with me and teach me).

If you are an experienced (white or neutral magic) witch who practices the craft on a regular basis in the Ypsilanti area and would like to share, please contact me by commenting on this blog entry.

Blessed be,

Rion

By the way, bonus points for understanding the pun in the title.

Why is Yogurt Good for You?

2007-09-20T10:27:00.000-04:00

Yogurt, especially organic, probiotic yogurt is EXCELLENT for your health. From what I have read, it seems there is nothing important it can't do.

It is nourishing.
It is high in calcium.
It protects your immunity.
It improves your digestion.
It is tasty.
It mixes with savory and sweet items.
It helps dieters lose tummy fat. (yes, keep the bosoms, lose the tire!)
It improves the percentage of fat you burn in relation to other calories.
It improves the absorbtion of vitamins and minerals.
It improves your LDL/HDL ratio.
It helps prevent or reduce ulcers and osteoporosis.

You don't need to buy Danactive or Activia-- stick with Stonyfield, plain, whole-fat. It has calories, sure, but the taste is divine. Replace a couple handfuls of chips with a cup of yogurt. Your body will sing your praises like Handel's Messiah!

Big is Beautiful

2007-09-14T13:06:00.000-04:00

This isn't like me, but I'm posting another uTube video. Thank you Mika.

Love,

Rion
(Big Girl)

Grace Kelly (I can be anything I like) Mika

2007-09-14T13:03:00.000-04:00

I adore this song. I thought it was an archeological find of a missing Queen song. What a lovely boy.

The song makes me feel fantastic. Tripping the geek fantastic.

The Village: An alternative movie review

2007-09-14T11:21:00.000-04:00

*Spoiler alert: Herein lies information that will surely spoil the suspense.*

The Village was panned by some critics, praised by others. Starting as a quaint tale of an isolated 19th century town in wholesome America, we quickly learn of an ineffable force, alien and powerful, that lives in the forest surrounding the townspeople. A council of male and female elders (none very old) leads the group through some tragedies, including some sickness, and an emerging conflict with the others in the woods.

Still, the villagers continue their idyll, singing songs, eating together, asking for the parental hand in sweet loving marriages, and working side by side in gardens and craft pursuits-- very gentile and almost Amish. When freakish skinned carcasses of wild and farm animals begin appearring, a coyote is blamed, and all are asked to be careful. When a local is mauled, a young man of the village decides to venture forth to the evil world to fetch medicine and assistance.

Now here's the big suprise: this perfect little village is a creation of world-weary city dwellers who banded together to artifically create a little community free of crime, trans fat, and electronic equipment--namely, The Elders. These creative people were all wounded individuals going to group grief therapy. They bought a large plot of land, educated themselves about the past, and even decided to speak in a decidedly poetic version of English. And the magical creatures in the woods? Just a construct to keep people from wanting to roam away from the village.

So the children of the village are imprisoned by their fear and their programming, of an evil outside world, and violent creatures in the woods. By creating these boundaries, The Elders seek to control the community and protect it from modernity--the age they had to suffer. They believed they could do it better, protecting all the citizens. However, when a psychopath is raised among them, they cannot blame it on modernity or child abuse...it just happened.

An analogy can be made between any sheltered populace and this village. Not knowing the truth of the world "outside" can create irrational fear of the other. How many times do our own decisions shelter us from the truth of other people and other things? I have a few examples.

A person who lives outside of organized religion can be afraid of it. Afraid of the power that religious organizations can have on all our lives, afraid of spiritual/magical thinking, afraid of blind faith and its implications. Some fears are founded. However, the most fearful aspect is that outsiders can make assuptions about groups that run their whole lives and cause them to disregard the members of the religion as their own people. Why be afraid and isolated?

I see people spending hours discussing "how not to be". What religious beliefs NOT to have. What politicians NOT to trust. What stories NOT to believe. What topics NOT to broach. Why can't we discuss who we are, and what we believe, instead of defining outselves as Opposition?

When we shelter ourselves, we are not able to even comprehend other people's lives.

When I first moved to Ypsilanti, MI, I admit I was a little spooked. I saw young guys drive around in cars blasting their 'urban' music. Young ladies walked around the sidewalks, pregnant with another baby on the way. Teens walked along the highway, or tossed a ball across the street. Paint jobs were neglected, here and there. The grocery store had narrow aisles and weird merchandise, and people seemed to holler at their kids more. Some guy drove his motorized wheelchair around downtown in the streets. It looked POOR. It looked UNEDUCATED. It looked INTIMIDATING.

My reaction was a carryover from my sheltered, white, middle class, small-town, Alaskan youth. I'm embarassed for being afraid, but it was (and still is to some extent) the truth. I don't understand what it is to be without a college education, and to fight tooth and nail for an Associate's degree over a ten-year time period. I don't understand buying all generic and giving up a pound of beef for a pack of cigarettes. I don't understand young mothers. And I certainly don't understand what it is to be African American in this country.

But being sheltered didn't help me, and it didn't help the villagers. We all have the same problems eventually, no wall can keep them out. Its corny, but the best way to mediate problems of life is to love one another, and seek to understand even the things we are tempted to hide from and judge.

Why am I such a cornball? Sorry.

Psychic Synchronicity

2007-09-11T10:13:00.000-04:00

I've developed a recent psychic talent for synchronicity. This morning, a song started running through my head, I want to hear it, so I press the preset button for one of two radio stations I listen to for music (NPR is the standard). Immediately I hear the first few chords of that exact song: "Shut Your Eyes" by Snow Patrol.

Gratified, I listen to the song and am smiling because the song is so hypnotic and soothing. Very meditative. At the end of the song, I switch to NPR for a while. When a story comes on that I am not too interested in, I switch the station...this time to my other preset. There is a song on that I'm not very fond of, kind of an oldie, but I listen to it since it seems to be almost over. The next song is, you guessed it: "Shut Your Eyes" by Snow Patrol.

Experiencing synchronicity is one of the signs that you are lifting the veil, touching the collective unconscious, jiving with universal harmony. So, though song synchronicity may not be a marketable talent, it sure is hopeful, magical, and handy.

"The Christians and the Pagans" by Dar Williams

2007-09-07T14:50:00.000-04:00

Amber called her uncle, said, "We're up here for the holiday,
Jane and I were having Solstice, now we need a place to stay."
And her Christ-loving uncle watched his wife hang Mary on a tree,
He watched his son hang candy canes all made with red dye number three.
He told his niece, "It's Christmas eve, I know our life is not your style,"
She said, "Christmas is like Solstice, and we miss you and it's been a while."

So the Christians and the Pagans sat together at the table,
Finding faith and common ground the best that they were able,
And just before the meal was served, hands were held and prayers were said,
Sending hope for peace on earth to all their gods and goddesses.

The food was great, the tree plugged in, the meal had gone without a hitch,
Till Timmy turned to Amber and said, "Is it true that you're a witch?"
His mom jumped up and said, "The pies are burning," and she hit the kitchen,
And it was Jane who spoke, she said, "It's true, you're cousin's not a Christian,
But we love trees, we love the snow, the friends we have, the world we share,
And you find magic from your God, and we find magic everywhere."

So the Christians and the Pagans sat together at the table,
Finding faith and common ground the best that they were able,
And where does magic come from , I think magic's in the learning,
'Cause now when Christians sit with Pagans only pumpkin pies are burning.

When Amber tried to do the dishes, her aunt said, "Really, no, don't bother."
Amber's uncle saw how Amber looked like Tim and like her father.
He thought about his brother, how they hadn't spoken in a year,
He thought he'd call him up and say, "It's Christmas and your daughter's here."
He thought of fathers, sons and brothers, saw his own son tug his sleeve,
Saying, "Can I be a Pagan?" Dad said, "We'll discuss it when they leave."

So the Christians and the Pagans sat together at the table,
Finding faith and common ground the best that they were able,
Lighting trees in darkness, learning new ways from the old,
And making sense of history and drawing warmth out of the cold.

-- by Dar Williams

I was impressed at the lighthearted way in which this song discusses conflicts of religion at the holidays, and every day. As a pagan, I'm really moved. I'm not sure what Christians think--let me know! There is an audio file hosted on the web. Of course, if you really like the song please buy it from somewhere so that the singer/songwriter can get royalties (it's only fair).

L'histoire

2007-09-07T14:30:00.000-04:00

Frozen on walls and ceilings, subjects pose still. There's the outlandish symmetry of the historical painter's eye. The different angle on physics. In this place, the modern teen enters as a sacrilege wearing an iPod garland around his neck.

Caught, but not restful, the subjects tumble forth in spirit: Napoleons and Marie Curies, legionnaires and milkmaids, knights and peasants and virgins holler at the noisy tour group familiarly, like their mothers would do were they present.

"Tuck that shirt in!"
"Pay attention!"
"Speak clearly, don't slouch."
"Live, explore, collide!"

Without noticing, the teens stumble around listening to audio tours: this tapestry, that jewel, this scupture, that javelin. Yeah.

Would they had a medium to channel the outrage of history ignored. She could give voice to the terrible message of captive time.

Would they had different ears than their fathers and mothers, and their parents fathers and mothers. But still they do not improve upon anything, each learning the same lessons again and again and again while history sighs.

Recent Email Corn-versation

2007-09-06T17:26:00.000-04:00

PJ: What ya want for din din?????
Rion: If you want to just stop by McD's or BK, I'd take a salad with low fat dressing.
PJ: Kind of salad???? one with chicken on it?
Rion: Yep. Just avoid grilled and you should be fine:-) Thank you!
PJ: You mean, avoid fried, right?
Rion: Oops, yes, I mean I want grilled. Must have been a fried-ian slip.
PJ: I agrease.
Rion: I'm tempura-arily avoiding too much fat.
PJ: It's bad for you, that's a fat!
Rion: Yes, my chow-lesterol has been too high.
PJ: Ok....I give up!

Ah, how he humors me!

Scatological Sunrise

2007-09-06T13:08:00.000-04:00

Since the last blog was urine-related, let me wax poetic for a moment about shit.

Driving home on Monday, I encountered behavior that was truly shitty. During my one potty stop, I pulled off on the Holly, Michigan exit (or thereabouts), seeing that there were gas stations. Surely there were bathrooms available!

Michigan does not have rest stops like they have on the Thruway. Nope, you look for gas stations. Because of the lack of rest stops (there are a few) most gas stations offer facilities. So, in desparate need of powdering my nose I stopped at a BP. The green places. They always have bathrooms.

However, I had forgotten that it is Renaissance Fest season. There was a sign up: "No Public Restrooms" scrawled in pen and taped on the glass door. Hmm, suspiciously looks like some gas station owners or employees don't want to clean up after extra visitors. But, my saving grace was a big overhead billboard that advertised Liquor Beer and Wine at the Citgo gas station one mile down the road. Already in great need, I dashed to my car and drove off to the other gas station.

And what to my wondering eyes did appear, but another crappy sign. It did point out a Porta Potty, around the side. Again, this is a major chain that should have had restrooms. However, I bit the bullet and went into the plastic box, only to be dismayed by the gigantic and horrid pile of human waste in the pit. These things are supposed to be cleaned out, people!

Arrgh!

To make matters worse, there was no toilet paper.

Now this is the darnedest thing: The gas stations make more money due to extra travellers, but don't want to pay the expense of providing facilities for the extra travellers.

Now that is truly shitty.

Pissed Off (AKA: "We're pissed as hell and we're not going to take it anymore.")

2007-08-31T09:39:00.001-04:00

Hail, Bloggers, and remember this day. Today is the day I discovered the origin of the verb phrase "pissed off".

Let's start at the beginning. Yesterday I overslept, so had to stay late at work. Then, after already staying late at work, I punched out and had to grade papers for my part-time job teaching software to business school students. Then, after already being at work until later than usual, I got caught in a traffic jam due to an accident. [not pissed off, yet]

At home very late, and ravenous, my usual mode would have been to grab an ice cream sandwich or three. And I had nothing ready to eat. [not pissed off, yet] However, the better angels of my nature kicked in, and I actually made a rudimentary dinner: rice and beans. (I'll tell you later about this miracle rice cooker I bought that makes perfect rice in the microwave from Pampered Chef.) Things are looking up. I washed a load of laundry and waited up to put it in the dryer. Then I dutifully folded and packed the items I need for my Labor Day weekend Up North. This is not like me, usually I would be doing everything tonight right before leaving, throwing everything in PJ's car while he urged me along and reminded me to bring what I needed. But PJ is not here to be the vacation coordinator, so I had to make do.[not pissed off, yet...wait for it]

This morning, I awoke, an hour late [getting irritated], to my alarm, and tucked my freshly washed clothing into my soft-sided roll-y suitcase before getting dressed, grabbing my leftovers from the fridge. I secured the windows (good homeowner!), checked the locks (good homeowner!), and fed and watered the kitties for a long weekend. All of this is accomplished stumbling around in my early-morning, zombified fugue state.

As I was just about out the door, I noticed an acrid smell. I smelled my hands, and ewwww! Cat pee. "Okay, be calm," I thought. "There has got to be a good explanation for this. I did pet Zizi. Maybe she's falling down on her hygiene." So I sniffed around with my super powerful nose and realized that it was not just my hands, but my suitcase! "Ack!" I thought, "Maybe it is just on the side!" Worried, I rushed to rescue my freshly laundered vacation-wear!

Ah, but it was too late. The few minutes my clothes had been in the bag, they'd marinated in the delightful miasma of cat piss. Every article needed washing. Okay now I'm pissed off.

Let's not even discuss the reluctance with which I placed all the nicely folded, yet horribly smelly, clothing right into the washer, again. Then I waited, standing there, for the clothes to wash, and put them in the dryer.

As I drove away, I got worried about the dryer being run without supervision. Somehow it gets More Dangerous when you are leaving on vacation. However, I managed to calm that fear knowing the next door neighbors are home today. They will call the fire department if anything happens.

Ah, the joys of a turn of a phrase.

I'm a half and half cookie- Ironic, eh?

2007-08-30T16:25:00.000-04:00

You Are a Black and White Cookie

You're often conflicted in life, and you feel pulled in two opposite directions.
When you're good, you're sweet as sugar. And when you're bad, you're wicked!

What Kind of Cookie Are You?

It's a FULL MOON

2007-08-29T16:14:00.000-04:00

Take a minute and think: "What would my ancestors be doing this day, this evening?" They'd be dancing, my friends. They'd be praising. They'd be imagining mystical stuff by the light of the MOON. They'd be calling up spirits and whirling without self-consciousness. They'd be eating only until full, or until they met someone hungry. They'd be thanking the Earth for their shelter, family, and all the overflowing beauty in the world. They'd be asking to be filled with magic, or at least wonder.

When you say Thank You, do you mean it? What about when you say I'm Fine?

At the risk of sounding cheesy, let's be better than fine. Let's be honored, gracious, and thankful. Let's be inventive, generous, and pleasant. Maybe be wild and a touch overwhelming. Let's be heroic.

It's the MOON, I tell you. The MOON.

FTMs Rock My World

2007-08-29T12:08:00.000-04:00

Who is an FTM? Well, an FTM is a female-to-male transexual (that's right, folks, in this case a woman becomes a man). The transition from female to male involves many factors, both emotional, psychological, chemical, and sometimes physical. Let's approach the wonderful FTM guys from a social and not a medical perspective, shall we?

What prompted me to write this? Well, my partner is FTM and I am more sensitive to remarks made at work, in social situations, and the media. Sometimes transpeople get trashed publicly, in jokes that would never be acceptable about gays (well, unless you are Ann Coulter talking to asshole Republicans). To make matters worse, if transmen are not being joked about they are made invisible by the public misunderstanding of the trans experience. Most people couldn't explain gender any more cogently than Bush can explain photosynthesis. They think that male cross-dressers are the only type of transgender. Boy, are they wrong. There is quite a panoply of ways to be trans, but let's not get into that now. Let's talk about transmen in particular.

What's so amazing about my guys? Speaking from experience:

They are usually very attractive, in a yummy "come to mama, do you like cookies?" kind of way--long into their 40's! Unless they are serious chain smokers, or have a lot of acne, I've seen a lot of super-handsome baby-faced dudes. I mean we're talking cross Johnny Depp with Leo DiCaprio cute.

They often throw gender roles in the toilet, and force their partners to do the same. For example, does your husband always mow the lawn because of his Y chromosome? Why? Does your wife always do the cooking? Why? Does your butch girlfriend always fix the truck? Why? Is your father allowed to cry? Why not?

They don't freak out upon mention of cramps, tampons, or pads. This is biology, guys, no more ugly or icky than peeing in the snow. You get kicked in the balls, it hurts, you don't mind telling people it hurts and they should feel sorry for you. But if women went around proclaiming bad cramps, most guys would call a national Orange alert level.

They are brave enough to make drastic changes for something they believe in, themselves and their truths.

They can trade stories with you about Girl Scouts.

Of course, I'm generalizing from my experience, so if you are FTM please don't flame me to say you NEVER would talk about the horrid Girl Scouts. Yes, I know you wanted to be in Boy Scouts, but them's the facts! FYI, some FTMs are what they call stealth, which means they never tell anybody they are trans, and try as hard as they can to fit in with the current masculine ideal. Basically, they divorce themselves from their experiences in a female body entirely. That is just another way to be. Not bad, but I love the men who are open about their female experiences. I mean, how cool is that?

My particular guy is especially cool because he's bi, just like me. It gives me a little thrill that we understand each other in such a way. Although we are somewhat "invisible" to some gay and lesbian people (since we look like a straight couple) we identify strongly with the gay, lesbian, bi, and transgendered community. Not just a portion of the LGBT, the whole gamut. You have to be open minded. It keeps people guessing, and it makes life very interesting!

So, the next time you are tempted to tell a joke about "trannies" (that is, if you are not trans yourself) please think again. The dude you are talking to could be trans himself.

Just to end on a light note, the other day I asked my partner if he wanted to invite some transguys who are aquaintances all over for a BBQ, no women invited. Ah poor me, surrounded with handsome men. No "ladies" to chat with. I think he saw through the charade :-) Who needs ladies anyway, even if you likey the fairer sex.

Now aren't I educational? PS--So far as I know, Elvis isn't trans. He just makes a nice photo.

Sleep Apnea and Obesity

2007-08-29T08:52:00.000-04:00

Sleep apnea is a condition where you stop breathing at night while you sleep, just for a few seconds at a time. Then, because your body wants to keep you alive, you wake up (even just a little). Once you fall back asleep, the cycle begins again. A disruption in sleep is harmful for anyone. Over time, sleep apnea causes more than "just" drowsiness during the day (while driving, in a meeting, in public). No, it doesn't stop there--people with sleep apnea run a greater risk of developing heart problems and diabetes.

This is supposed to be a funny blog, so what's funny about sleep apnea?

Well, there's this mask that blows air into your throat (or nose) from a machine called a CPAP or BiPap. The upshot is that the airway is kept open by the force of the machine. However, wearing this mask makes anyone look like the elephant man. Tres Sportif! Sometimes having a humidifier along with the machine (to humidify the air) is more "pleasant". However, when using the humidifier, the moisture can build up in the tube that brings the air to the mask, and that condensation can suddenly whoosh! down into your nose or mouth unexpectedly. Talk about a rude awakening, water up your nose. Not suprisingly, most people don't like air forced up their noses all night, every night, for the rest of time.

So, many people seek an alternative to this CPAP craziness. The doctors have to be able to do something, right? Well, yes. They can remove your tonsils and uvula, prescribe a mouthpiece that moves your lower jaw forward, and even extend your jaw with a fairly gruesome sounding procedure. All of these methods serve the same purpose: to keep the airway open during sleep. However, what it all comes down to is extra tissue in the throat. In layman's terms, that means fat in the neck!

So, now, I went to this clinic called the Alternatives to CPAP clinic. For four hours I was poked and x-rayed. I even had a foot-long strawlike camera threaded down my nose. Yowie! But when each doctor explained what he or she could do, the upshot was that my being overweight made any of these alternative treatments fairly ineffective and that I needed to lose weight before any of them would work. Did I mention that losing weight can sometimes cure apnea altogether?

So, they can't do anything for me, after four hours of this examination and expensive tests. If this is the case, why didn't they tell me this before? They could have asked my height and weight, gotten out their little calculators, and figured out I was half butterfat before the whole rigamarole. Damn, people, I'm looking for something to help me get enough sleep so that I can get more exercise, so that I can lose weight, so that I can get better sleep in order to exercise and lose weight?! This is a chicken and egg thing.

What people who are not very overweight never seem to understand is that it is easier said than done (losing weight). Especially after many diets and exercise programs that you just can't stick with, or that become too hard to maintain. If it was easy, or even moderately difficult to lose weight, that would have been my first alternative! Having sleep apnea makes you tired during the day. This is a hindrance to extensive aerobicizing. Bah!

So anyway, it is this vicious circle, sleep apnea and obesity. One often comes with the other. So why did I need expensive tests to diagnose this darn thing?

I wish there was a way for America to take obesity more seriously than just demeaning and reporting on "the problem". Understand that an addiction to food is just as difficult as an addiction to any drug. So, why aren't there fully-paid treatment programs for me to rehab like poor Amy Whinehouse? She's a brilliant singer, but geez!

I won't bore you with the details of my dietary and exercise quest, like some blogs (yech, who would ever want to read about my lunch of broccoli and hummus!?). But I may write about being fat in America again. I know, cry me a river, when there's people out there without homes, food, or reliable childcare. But this affects me.

Hmmm, sorry that wasn't so funny. I live for cupcakes goshdarnit!!

Boadicea Bedlam

2007-08-24T15:37:00.000-04:00

***This short story was written in response to the Weekly Challenge posted at Indie Bloggers. Indie Bloggers is a great idea. The authors have taken it upon themselves to post only the best of the blogosphere. What a great way to get to know other bloggers! Tra-la to the wonderful women of Indie Bloggers! Hopefully they will accept this entry.***

As Jack Bauer’s personal tailor, you’re used to special requests, like sewing a Glock P36 into the sleeve, or exploding cufflinks that have to be added after 5:30 on a Friday (what a jerk!) but today, he takes the cake and asks for:

A fully-loaded silicone bustier. Jack is about to go undercover as a plus-size actress in the stage production of Starlight Express. To that end, Jack needs a bodacious figure that will evade detection from the other women in the dressing room, without attracting much attention. The bustier is to create the jiggle of a D-cup, the booty of an athletic roller skater, and the waist of a young Betty Page.

His character will be added into the plot at the Kansas City Theatre’s production. If all goes well, the show will go on the road to Topeka, Poughkeepsie, and Bar Harbor, Maine. Jack will play a Junoesque courtesan, riding on the train.

The bustier/body should be embedded with poisonous pins that can be deployed from either breast (left for a deadly poison, right for a poison that only stuns). He has yet to learn his target.

Name Fetish Rap

2007-08-23T18:31:00.001-04:00

(drum machine)

I have a lame fetish
That ain't no lie (tap tap tap)
I got a name fetish
That just won't die

I gotta know the pro-nun-ciation (YIP)
I just ~must~ know the historical der-i-vation
And when you think I'm rabid with consternation
My obsession with names is like sex-u-al frustration

My family name is Ches-bro, I'm the maker of the cheese
My father -says- that the name is Welsh(ese)
Letters dropped through the years, like the E that is no more
and the OUGH went the way of the 'saur

yo shorty it's my birthday, gonna party like it's my birthday

I always wonder about doctors with the name of Payne
I would never submit to his surgery
I'd change my name to Cardiologist Dr. Love
Or something like Dr. Hale (and Hearty)

This madness must cease
The curse must release
I go around asking without surcease
There must be a cure
I'm kinda sick
When I have to know the meaning of Bush
Or how Richard becomes Dick

I'm biting my lower lip
So I must wind down my rhyme
I won't make it in the rapping biz
'Cause I have a hard time with slang and with keeping time

Happy 32

2007-08-23T15:02:00.000-04:00

What is it about 32? Such symmetry. 2 x 2 x 2 x 2 x 2

My age in human years.

I never got very far in imagining "over 30" when I was in my teens and pre-teens. I could barely imagine college. Now that I am in my 30s, I'm intrigued. All those seeds I planted in my youth are starting to have perceptible sprouts.

My potential is starting to change into actual. Then there is the new potential.

It is nice when you stop wishing you could be something else. I now am 100% certain I will never be

An Olympic gymnast

A famous rock and roll star like Janis Joplin

An amazingly rich person

Coordinated and directionally savvy

A poet living in the Latin Quarter of Paris

Thin or conventionally lovely (check out those eyebrows, folks!)

But I am just as certain of my true potentials, as I have been given some very hopeful little sparkly bits of confirmation that I will be (or already am)

A published writer

A true character

A psychic

A foodie

A happy person with a family, friends, house, Chihuahuas, and a loving and interesting partner

An inventor

A developing soul, in the most newagey sense of the phrase

A person who can afford to occasionally splurge, with absolutely no reason to complain

Such a wonderful lists of am-now-or-will-be's.

What a way to be 32! Somebody told me yesterday that I am hilarious. Today somebody told me I could be a great food writer. Gosh darn. Another thing to add to my list of potential careers for my next incarnation. Currently I am working on published author, media doyenne, consultant chic smartie pants, psychic, blogger, college instructor, and technical writer. Whew! That is a lot to fit on a business card.

So you can put "generally fantastic", that will do. Kiss my arse, I'm Thirty Two!!!!!!!!!!

Amtrakking it!

2007-08-23T12:49:00.000-04:00

Ah, when I think of my college years in dappled Hudson Valley, I also think of travelling by train. I learned how to be an effective train traveller. Shall I pass this wisdom on to a new generation of trainees?

Could NOT resist that one.

Anyhow, here are the edicts for pleasant train travel.

1) Assume you are going to be late. The train will be late. No stress, complaining to the night janitor, bitching to fellow travellers, or pacing (bags in hand) will make the train come any sooner. Relax, read your book, and people watch.

2) Wear comfortable, layerable, clothing. Nobody cares what you look like. You'll see college kids in ragged band t-shirts, old ladies in their schmatas (sp?), businessmen in their Arrow Sears Poly Blend suits. You are not going to meet a wealthy fiance(e) or a business mogul to hire you for a fantastic job on the train. If you do, well, they know better than to judge by your clothes. You will want to sleep and perhaps even remove your sneaks.

3) If you happen to be sitting without a seat-buddy, keep your luxurious "First Class" accomodations by putting your bag up on the seat in the window seat, then lying on the bag and snoring during station stops. Keep one eye open for attractive millionaires, elderly or differently abled folks, or small children. After all, you may be trying to play the system, but you don't want to be stupid or mean.

4) Keep OUT of the aisles. The train attendants, other people, and baggage will smack you. Repeatedly. Even if there is no apparent reason to hurry.

5) Bring snacks and water. It can be hard to figure out where they keep the food, and if you do find it, it is always expensive.

6) For entertainment value, visit the smoking car. Yep. That's where all the pierced, track marked, commies hang out. Old fogies with gnarly beards, ex-truckers, 40 year old groupies that dress like teenagers, goth kidz with piles of eyeliner, and anyone with a personality disorder is in the smoking car. Conversations about sex, drugs, rock and roll, and Rolling Stone abound. Check your political correctness alarm at the door. Be prepared to smell like an ashtray and talk like a trucker when you emerge. And watch out for little mini stalkers.

7) Look out the window on long trips to remind yourself that there is a world out there besides the moving sardine can you are riding in. I recall a lovely field of sunflowers to this day from my cross-country train trip.

8) For crap sake, take care of yourself. The train employees don't kiss ass (they take names). They will not wake you up in Cheboygan, carefully avoid your foot in the aisle, or keep the old guy in the seat next to you from hitting on you. Pay attention to station stops, or you'll miss yours. If you didn't hear it, ask around. A healthy curiosity for where you are physically located in the world is always helpful, as is a watch or other electronic device with time.

I love the train. It is a microcosm of the world, an engaging reality show, and you can participate as much or as little as you like. When you emerge, zombified by constant noise, vibration, and being jolted from sleep (like a participant in a lack-of-sleep experiment) you will be wiser. That's why I love the train. It's very zen. Be the train. Be the wacky passengers. Be calm, cool, and collected. And above all, be curious.

What a fucking awesome planet we live on.

In Poor Taste

2007-08-17T12:43:00.000-04:00

Begging your indulgence, I would like to share (and perchance, rant) about some advertising in poor taste I've seen recently. Tell me, am I wrong?

What do you think about a store called "Goin' Postal"? There is such a beast near me in Michigan. I don't know, but I think that putting the idea in consumers' heads that they could be gunned down by disgruntled employees in the store is a bad one. What's next, a party store called "Drown Your Sorrows" or "Back to Step 1"?

Likewise, what about a big ol' road sign with a larger-than-life, deep South horror story, rope NOOSE? That's about 15 feet of noose in the loop part alone. I can't recall what the signboard was for, but really...is there worse taste than that?

Another sign, from a local fine dining establishment, declares "Meat With Friends". The picture is a steak. Okay, we get it. You are meeting to have a nice beefy cow slice. But really, meat evokes so many unpleasant pictures of other things you could do with your friends on the roadside.
Photo courtesy: http://www.interestingideas.com/roadside/signs/fork.jpg

Speaking of restaurants, we recently welcomed Sushi.Come to our neighborhood. Now you'd think, even with potential language difficulties, that somebody might have mentioned that putting raw fish and come in the same dot-phrase could be disconcerting.

Is it just my dirty mind?

The Cult of the Amateur?

2007-08-17T09:20:00.000-04:00

Last night, I indulged in watching the Colbert Report. The guest, Andrew Keen, had written a book called the Cult of the Amateur. From what I was able to gather, the author was bemoaning the ease with which everyone can publish these days. Unknown blog authors speak their minds with dubious spelling. Artists sell their beginning paintings on eBay. Advertising pays for video work on uTube. Oh, the horror!

Now, I have not read the book, but I did see the author and his reaction to Colbert's (definitely jokey, ironic, and not to be trusted) questions. The arrogance! The snobbery! Where does he think artists and writers and videographers get started? Do they just hatch fully sophisticated right out on to the pages of Art News? This is not to mention the gatekeepers. The publishing houses and other media companies, who have always had the audacity to either give us what they thought we'd like...or give us when they thought we needed, prescriptively.

What's happening is not a dilution of culture. It's just that there is now a more level playing field for exposure, and now the critics don't have a clue where they are supposed to look. The gatekeepers have control over their little plots of land, but everyone can put out their two cents...regardless if anyone is listening. This is truly the culture of the populace.

New formats are being created daily. Does poor filmmaking take away the art from a digital video? Do "texting-inspired" misspellings in that Chinese student's blog make it any less a passionate display of teenagerhood of this era, warts and all?

My feeling is that the internet is full of crap and advertising, but there are millions of paper bag luminaries out there. There's intensity, truth being spoken, less spin. There are intelligent communities being formed, of people who want to avoid bullshit elitism. Could it be that we are all getting smarter by self producing, putting content out on the internet?

Regardless of how people feel about it, the young people today have been raised with this connection to the internet. It is another channel of communication that starts to mimic our collective consciousness. They have an innate sense of how warped mass media can be, and they consume it with a grain of salt always. Just because it is on a major news channel does not mean it is unbiased. Just because it is printed does not mean it is Literature.

How long will it take the traditional media to get this? The physics of communication has changed. It's up to us to learn how to walk in a different gravity.

Rove Leaving? Celebratory Purpleness!

2007-08-15T14:55:00.001-04:00

Fridays @ Work: Productivity

2007-08-10T15:22:00.000-04:00

Productivity is a fascinating concept when you think about it.

The initial definition is not too out-there.

pro·duc·tiv·i·ty (prō'dŭk-tĭv'ĭ-tē, prŏd'ək-)The quality of being productive.
Economics The rate at which goods or services are produced especially output per unit of labor.
Ecology The rate at which radiant energy is used by producers to form organic substances as food for consumers.

http://www.dictionary.com/

However, what spurs productivity? How is productivity truly encouraged, measured, and rewarded? The answers to these questions may suprise The Boss.

Being interested in a topic, and invested in a project's outcome, spurs productivity. The more an outcome is directly meaningful to a worker, the less difficult it is to be productive. Additionally, productivity can be spurred in some unusual ways. For example, play and humor can spike levels of productivity. Google doesn't just give its workers crazy cool perks just to "Not Be Evil". Nope, it is a solid business decision to encourage creativity and productivity.

Refreshed, amused, happy-to-be-alive workers are powerhouses. Sometimes taking frequent breaks leads to a greater amount of work achieved in the long run. Ever catch yourself rereading a sentence in that business letter over and over again? Catch yourself working for too long on a PowerPoint graphic? Get up and stretch your legs. The goal is not to see who can be chained to his or her computer for the longest unbroken stretch of time!

However, there is a dark side to this argument. As many a current or previous temp secretary can tell you...there is an art to Looking Busy. If you don't look busy every minute of every day, people start to look askance at you. Even if you worked really hard, in a concentrated and focused manner, on the previous task, taking a break is never truly allowed. You have to Look Busy or you get the boot. Even without anything in the In box. Full timers (or people who have always been full timers) don't even see that talking about Jane's bad back, Peter's trip to Spain, or the latest customer hijinks are actually non-work activities, just like when you might, say, mail a letter or make a blog entry. So most of us have learned the scary art of Looking Busy. In truth, we should learn the more subtle art of being honest to ourselves, our companies, our coworkers, and our bosses.

Taking a break is good for you. There, I said it, I've blasphemed. No, I do not believe that you get to brag about working 14 hours straight-- especially if I could do the work in 8 hours with breaks. Just filling time with seriousness does not a productive worker make.

So, what can the well-meaning boss do? Well, judge people by their actual productivity. How much work is done. Not the manner in which that work is completed. If I can work better with my dog on my lap, with a mouthful of Krispy Kreme, why would you want to stop me? If a trip to the water cooler every hour makes the rest of the 55 minutes in the hour twice as productive, why the heck not?

Finally, how can productivity be rewarded? Well, PAY is always a good thing. However, public praise can be useful (if not overused). Also, let your workers know that productive moments need breaks in between. Understand that we're all different. And for heaven sake, have some fun. We know that junkets to customer sites aren't all bad, that the wine-ing and dining isn't 100% pure torture. Admit to the fact that your 15-hour days weren't all time "strapped to the rack". Some of those hours were time for bs-ing, talking about your children, watching tv, or eating room service. Sure you needed that time to be productive. But practice what you preach. Let's all just be honest about our jobs, our needs, our strengths, and our weaknesses. How many hours in the day do you actually want to pay me to be uptight about things like pretending to be something I'm not?

Playing the Look Busy game is so BORING. Wake up people.

Much love, as always, with my angst,

Raincoat Flashers: Shameless Self Promotion

2007-08-09T13:25:00.000-04:00

I've embarked on a new blog: Raincoat Flashers.

I'll post a picture, then I'll ask participants to create a sudden, or flash fiction, to accompany the picture. Within a week, the chosen piece is posted on the blog. The idea is to encourage the writing and reading of experimental, concise, and beautiful stories.

All comers, professional or amateur, student or instructor, are welcome.

Revisionist Future

2007-08-08T09:21:00.000-04:00

In my browsing of recently updated blogs this morning, I stumbled upon this Ah-nold Buck at http://zamorysh.blogspot.com/. The blog was written in Russian, so I cannot give proper credit to the artist or blogger. However, if you happen to read Russian, have at it, and comment here with details.

I cannot help but wonder about the inspiration for such a dramatic Photoshopping of the dollar. Was it done in jest or in all seriousness?

I need to go here because I'm not a very informed politico, but c'mon California...you hired the Terminator to be your Governor. Bah!

Free Fantasy Fiction Library

2007-08-07T13:52:00.000-04:00

Okay I'm an uber-geek. If you, too, are ubergeeky, check out these free books.

I just found this link, but I do see a few authors I would read.

Enjoy!

I'm going to be in Hufflepuff!

2007-08-07T13:45:00.000-04:00

Which Hogwarts house will you be sorted into?

Get Rosey-ed.

2007-08-06T12:51:00.000-04:00

Do not pass go. Do not collect $100. Do not even get a cup of joe from your favorite place. Nope. Go straight to my friend Rosey's blog.

She is an enormously talented, cute, and quirky woman. A professional artist, she has shown work at many art shows and published many pieces in On Our Backs. She also has a portfolio website.

Love her!

Les gémeaux (Gemelles?)

2007-08-04T10:57:00.000-04:00

I am a fraternal twin, my sister's name is Carrie and she lives in Madison, WI. She has a LiveJournal if you are interested. Most of her blog entries are epic dreams or simply strange dreams. Although we don't speak every day, its like we walk beside each other often. We were never alone in the world.

Being a twin is an amazing experience. A symbiosis develops over childhood. You think as a pair (even if in disagreement), negotiate as a pair, and can't imagine not being in a pair.

How is life different? Well, imagine being born into a partnership. You are blamed for all your partner's mishaps. For example, if your twin says something mean to someone you are actually accountable. Also, if you dress in something hideous, your twin gets the reputation for being unstylish. However, you also get credit for being smart if you twin is smart. You get special recognition (good or bad) on a regular basis.

And since this is a funny blog, what's funny about being a twin? Well, there was the time that we tried to trick our 5th grade teachers by changing clothes during recess and going to the other's class (we were never placed in the same class in K - 6). It worked too well. The teachers had no clue, and Carrie ended up taking a pretty important "placement" test for me. Good thing she's smart.

Another funny thing was the gift situation. My family was backed in a corner. They had to give the same gift, but slightly different (different color, design, etc.) If different gifts were given, somebody was always dissapointed. I remember the one Christmas my sister got a complete stereo- speakers, record player, 2-tape deck, tuner. Wow- the ability to make mix tapes! And I got...a 22 caliber rifle. Now, I was (am) a tomboy. I did like watching Dad pour metal bullet slugs, clean his muzzleloader (was into recreations), and shoot. However, I don't recall ever asking for a gun, especially considering we (Carrie and I) already shared a "sawed off" 22. Shhh! Don't tell the authorities. It is illegal, but that helped up to hold the thing, since rifles are heavy. Neither one of us shot at anything living, just pop cans and milk jugs filled with water. Anyway, that was a dramatic Christmas. My father swears, to this day, that I asked for the darn thing. I never shot it.

We have always compared ourselves, whether or not it was smart. We compare salaries, test scores, numbers of friends, pant sizes, and hair length and beauty. Carrie can't help but be envious that I have a life partner, PJ. I can't help but be jealous of her salary (especially considering we have the same job).

Speaking of having the same job, we ended up in the exact same job, coming from two entirely different directions. Get this. Carrie has a BA in Fine Art Painting. I have a BA in English Literature and Creative Writing. Carrie has a MA in Teaching with a specialization in Art Teaching. I have a MS in Information with a specialization in Human Computer Interaction. Carrie has worked as an ESL teacher in Korea, as a substitute in Alaska, as an art teacher in North Carolina, as a prep cook, as a gardener...and now she is working as a Documenter at a large organization in Madison. I, on the other hand, have worked as a writer, a college teacher, a temp secretary, a dishwasher, an interface designer, a librarian...and now I am working as a Tech Writer at a small organization. So, from two entirely different academic backgrounds and work histories, we both end up working with writing and training responsibilities for software companies. Weird!

We know each other so well. Carrie calls me when she is a)Bored, b)Upset, c)Proud. I probably do the same thing. I know when it is very important that I pick up the phone, and other times when I can ignore the call (if in the middle of a movie or something) when she is just bored. We talk about all those things that most people get annoyed with us for. For example, when we go out to dinner we'll tell the other exactly what we ate, exactly the modifications we requested for the meal (she'll request no mushrooms or meat, I'll request no Swiss cheese or raw onions). Now, most people cannot stand to hear this level of detail, but to us it is interesting. She'll tell me about the most recent person she has a crush on. I'll tell her about any drama with the dogs or PJ.

There is really a lot more about being a twin, but I'm getting distracted. One thing I can say is that I cannot imagine NOT being a twin.

One last note: please don't name your twins rhyming or alliterative names. Arrrgh!

Meme, Asked and Answered

2007-08-03T16:34:00.000-04:00

1. You are alone in a room with George Bush, Dick Cheney and Condi Rice. What happens in the first 5 minutes?

Assuming I am properly prepared, I begin briefing them on their re-education. For their first acts as normal people, Condi is forced to watch Lil' Bush on Comedy Central, and write a blog entry about whether or not she is like Lil' Condi in the show. Cheney is going to be getting a bikram yoga lesson and learning How Not to Be Evil. Finally, George, well, he gets to prepare for a high school debate where he has to argue the side of Hillary Clinton for presidential election against Guiliani. (sp?) For a level of difficulty, we can assume that points are deducted for using several different words to express the same meaning in the same sentence.

2. What two food flavors compliment each other best? Why?

Ah, bread and butter. We're not talking Wonder Bread and Promise Spread here, folks. I'm talking real, warm, Zingerman's bread with crispy crust and flavorful spongy interior. Then Irish butter fresh from the foil wrapper.

3. What country would you flee to if you had to right this minute?

Canada

4. ABBA - Yes or No?

How could I not?

5. You are alone in a room with George Bush, Dick Cheney and Condi Rice. What happened in the last 5 minutes?

George is bewildered: "W. Dub-uhl-you. It's like two V's. Two V's just stuck together in the middle. Joined-like. Attached."
Dick is sweaty, but hasn't escaped the duct tape.

Condi has a lesbian lover named Rocky, and has zillions.

Fridays @ Work: Spirituality in the Workplace

2007-08-03T16:27:00.001-04:00

Spirituality in the workplace is not just at issue during the winter holidays. No, it is an ever present reminder of our differences or similarities. Being cognizant of our coworkers’ spiritual standing may not be relevant to the task at hand, but it does come up. When it does come up, prepare to be

a) Alienated

b) Comforted

c) Offended

d) Surprised

e) Irritated

f) Happy

g) Supported

Watch yourself, calmly now, become offended at not only what people believe, but what they do not believe. For example, my wonderful coworker was taken aback when another woman referred to her Buddha Belly (she was pregnant). She did not like the Buddhist term applied to her child. Not only did this affect my coworker, but myself. I felt a little taken aback also. What was wrong with a Buddhist belly? Although I am not Buddhist, I do ascribe to some of the qualities of Buddhism, including those of Kwan Yin. I felt like she was saying that the concept and practice of Buddhism was wrong, and somehow morally bankrupt. However, upon further thought I realized that was not the case. She just felt uncomfortable embodying Buddhist concepts as a devoted Christian.

In another circumstance, I noticed that all of the women in my department (there are no men in my department) are Christian of some variety, and they regularly go to church. They talk about church, confirmation, baptism as a matter of course. There is no analogue to this regularly scheduled spirituality in my life. I do try to go to solstice occasions at the local Unitarian Universalist location. However, it is not that regular. I don’t feel anywhere near as comfortable talking about this as they do about their churches. They can so on and on about what the preacher said in the sermon, what kids wore for baptism, and so on. But I would not feel comfortable talking about Wicca, what craft we performed, what blessings we spoke, or what ceremonial garb we wore. It is just not as normal, or as accepted. Sure, if there are Wiccans out there reading this you might think: well, come out of the broom closet for Goddess sake! However, I don’t take lightly the decision to potentially impact my professional career.

Not only am I Wiccan, but psychic. What a fantastic resume booster! Where others can write: Elks (read: Christian Charity) Club as a reference, I might not get as far being a member of a Wiccan community group. After all, some people still think Wiccans worship evil spirits, or the big baddie himself (whose name I will not deign type here). Others think that it is just a big RPG for preteens and computer programmers. (I did just find out that my URL Rowanwand is actually the name of a clan of witches in a RPG. I, personally, am close with the name Rowan since it is my mother’s maiden name, and it is also known as a magical tree.)

Other times I think about the fact that we get all the Christian holidays off, but Jewish, Muslim, and other holidays? Well, we’re out of luck. Not to bemoan the fact, but that can be alienating too. People celebrated full moons for many more years than they have celebrated the great sacrifice of Jesus, or the dominion of one all-powerful God.

I’ve veered off-topic.

What I want to get to is this. Religion and spirituality are tricky topics. Remember The Passion of the Christ (still haven’t seen it, meant to, just for reference)? What about the Blair Witch Project? Think about how mosques are being conflated with centers of warfare in some places in this world. I hope we can continue to share our faiths, and keep openminded about the results of our discussions. Spirituality adds such richness to our lives, and is such a big part of the personality I’m not sure we could ever hope (or want) to leave it at home.

A Painting Journey

2007-08-02T11:54:00.000-04:00

My new, yet dear, friend Marsha has begun a painting journey. She has set out to paint small, en plein air paintings and blog about the experience. The small format is engaging, and each painting seems to contain a distilled moment: intimate, serene, natural, and cosmic, all at once.

Check out her blog. She plans to paint for the month of September in the notoriously beautiful Blue Ridge Mountains of North Carolina. It goes without saying, but please enjoy her wonderful work, and support it by purchasing a painting, if you have the desire and means.

Fridays @ Work: Philosophy of Motivation

2007-07-28T11:15:00.000-04:00

And now we return to our regularly scheduled programming, Fridays @ Work, with your host Rion. I'm not ready to share my given name with my hordes of readers, to protect the innocent (and my job).

Today's topic is: Motivation.

First, let's talk about what doesn't motivate me.

What about posters that advertise "Persistence", "Excellence", "Character", and "Opportunity"? Not only are the accompanying images lame stock photos of airbrushed mountains and streams, but the text is rife with cliche. Not only am I baffled by those who appreciate such muck, I am embarrassed for our company. These posters just reek of a lack of individualism, and a false front of some kind of higher moral ground. Now I know that we are not perfect, but we are individuals, with our own tastes, skills, and ways of interacting. Diluting us into categories and anesthetizing us with platitudes...doesn't fly (with me, at least). "Arrogance" poster is courtesy of http://www.demotivators.com/.

Another demotivator is the constant encouragement of others to the expense of everyone else in the company. There are a few admins at my work who go above and beyond. So they are publicly praised for doing a good job at almost every all-staff meeting. But is this praise in lieu of adequate compensation? Somehow it makes the rest of us look like schmucks. But maybe we are simply expected to overachieve? Public praise is great, don't get me wrong, but when it is the same few people being praised every week? It gets old. Fast.

So what does motivate me?

Respect. I appreciate the respect of older and wiser collegues. I like it when my emails are responded to (not summarily). I like it when my ideas are carefully considered (and not trashed immediately for being too new or having been tried before...in '93!). I like it when I am given tasks that can showcase my talents and not my shortcomings. To my company's credit, I am going to be given the assignment to write another white paper. If you're not familiar with white papers, they are extremely subtle advertising. White papers communicate knowledge about a topic, just like an academic essay, with the underlying assumption that this knowledge makes the producing company's products more informed by market forces, good design, business necessity, and careful research. So, being asked to write something more complex, thoughtful, and conceptual draws on my strengths more than having to troubleshoot partially-developed hardware and software. This shows respect for my skills, and my weaknesses.

Also motivating? Money. Yes, it seems gauche, but the more money I'm paid per hour, the more sophisticated I feel. The harder I work. The more responsibility I feel. Now perhaps this is a juvenile perspective, but it is my truth. Although I worked my butt off as a temp secretary many years ago, I would not fight for the overall good of the company. That is for people who really feel invested in the company's outcomes. Slightly demotivating, personally, is the fact that I am paid less than the average technical writer in my area. Bah humbug. I am also not an engineer, so I suppose that impacts my saleability, even with a Master's.

What motivates you at work? Come on folks, throw me a bone. :-)
What demotivates you? Now that's fun to talk about, if only to let off steam.

You can call me Flower if you want to

2007-07-28T10:57:00.000-04:00

Ah, the joys of encountering Mother Nature's creatures, especially the Skunk.

Our newly-resident skunk sprayed for the first time, and we believed, in succession, that there was

a) an electrical fire
b) a chemical reaction to the stuff in our pipes and Liquid Plumber in the clogged tub drain

c) a gas leak
d) a chemical spill nearby

Instead, it was our friendly skunk. However, instead of thinking about skunks, I allowed my little pups to run outside without leashes soon after. My poor Salvador Doggie paid the price with a full-on spray to the face. This stuff is nasty, yellow, unguent, ewww. Definitely not the skunky smell you get from scratch-n-sniff stickers, or certain coffees.

It was chaos as I tried to avoid throwing up, while herding my little disobedient doggies into the sunroom and yelling for PJ. We mixed up a potion of hydrogen peroxide and dish soap, but could not find the baking soda. And I, being the valiant Mommy, shampooed both doggies. Macchi was not really sprayed, but Salvador...well, he was rank. The smell hung in the house like a pall.

The next day, another shampoo, this time with the prescribed baking soda, did not completely deodorize Salvador. In fact, he is still a little stinky in the muzzle area. It is too bad, because I love to smell my doggies. What a weird thing, huh? Anyway, we've been told that Massengil(l?) douche is good for skunk scent removal. At least, the doggies could then walk on the beach with that feeling of freshness like a Summer's Eve. I don't know. I'm skeptical.

Apparently there are skunk banes that we could sprinkle around the yard. But until I get that in place I will be walking the dogs, on leashes, out front.

I like learning things, but this lesson was very stinky. Pew.

Psychic at a Family Reunion

2007-07-28T10:17:00.000-04:00

Ho-lee Crap!
I survived. I credit my psychic training. Seriously.

So, the trip to New York state (Sherburne, if you're from central New York) was a whirlwind of physical, emotional, and psychic stressors. There was hard labor, including carrying huge bags and boxes of crap from the attic, from crawl spaces, from the barn loft. There was tedium, including spending 4 hours shredding my grandparents home repair bills and medical statements (yeah, right, identity thieves care about the repair to the garage in '87). There was excitement, including being bequeathed my Uncle Mike's old teak bong. And there was hillarity, including a family gathering on an asphalt driveway around a fire pit.

Perhaps more detail is funny to include for the fire pit. Discussion got very rapid-fire. There were zingers singeing the air. Cousin pitted against cousin, child ragging on parent. We talked sex, drugs, and rock and roll while the kids' ears burned. Somehow I've entered a time in my life where I don't feel ill when my parents and relatives admit to being human beings with sex drives, mistakes, and crazy adventures. Boy, was that fun. PJ even made a joke that included sausages in the Biblical sense. I can't recall exactly what he said, but I think even my father had to blush, just a little bit. A few people had a little too much wine to drink. My Dad put a vinyl and aluminum lawn chair into the fire. We talked about pranking poor Uncle Dick, who was holed away in Aunt Margaret's house with a bad shoulder and a little grumpiness due to age. Thank goodness that never happened.

Speaking of stress, my Mom was under a lot of it, as she was cleaning out her Mom's stuff. Every minute we were reminded that Grandma is not the woman she used to be. She is no longer the wisecracking, sweet, practical, and generous woman that she used to be. She is now living at the assisted living facility, repeating herself, forgetting all our names, and has an addiction to small fluffy animals. It has always been hard for me to see my Mom get upset. She is usually pretty circumspect, also practical, caring, but not gushy. She is not phlegmatic or hysterical. Let's just say I would vote for my Mother, hands down, over any politician or CEO, in any election. She is brilliant, put-together, also generous, hard-working almost to a fault. So when she starts to crack, even a little, it is hard not to follow suit. You know the emotion must be overwhelming.

PJ was a rock. He moved furniture and big boxes like a pro. He was very social, which is hard for a natural introvert. He was charming and got the seal of approval from Aunt Sandy and Uncle Mike.

Adding to the stress were subterranean (potential) squabbles about who got what, what should be kept/sold, and hard feelings about missing items. In general, it was amazing to see what Grandma has collected over the years, but it caused a lot of work.

-2 scythes
-2 chamber pots
-6 "Fearless Flyer" style sleds
-many toasters, blenders, fondue pots, paper napkins
-4000 cookbooks (okay, here I'm exaggerating)
-50 glass vases from flower arrangements
-broken heaters, fans, vacuums
-beaded purses, party gloves, vintage clothing
-polyester knit sweaters
-6 boxes of pictures, some of unidentifiable relatives
-teak bong
-saddles
-metal sculptures from my Dad's welding-art days

That's only a small sampling of the wonders we found in the house. The amazing thing to me is that she (and Grandpa) used, displayed, and generally interacted with all the crappy stuff. They did not use the "good" dishes. They did not use the "good" sweaters. They never wore the "good" jewelry. The didn't even drink the "good" liquor. This Depression-era mentality caused them to live a spartan lifestyle, when they had much nicer things. I remember my Grandma complaining about her feet and wearing $10 shoes. With bunions and other foot problems. I had to work hard to convince her to treat herself. But I guess it never mattered. The good stuff for my grandparents was the family. The items didn't really matter.

With all the excitement, stress, and physical strain, it is amazing that I didn't even tear up once. Usually I'd have to had retreated at least a few times due to hearing fat jokes, too much work, not getting my way (reverting to childhood). However, I was strong, grounded, and helpful. I guess I could give just a little credit to my new antidepressant, Cymbalta, but I'm not sure. I think my emotional landscape is changing so that I can deal better with the energies of others, even under stress. And, boy howdy, that's a good thing (misquoting Martha).

Eye Oh Ewe

2007-07-19T09:02:00.000-04:00

(AKA: I owe you an ewwww)

Dear Blog,

You have sat here and whiled away while I had a busy week of work. Many entertaining things happened, including my calling the gas company about skunk smell and the subsequent skunk bombing of my impetuous Chihuahua, Salvador Doggie. And yet, I did not write.

I did not write about my fascinating weekend meditating on internal organs, hormones, and blood vessels to promote health (truly more cosmic than it sounds). I did not write about being brave and swimming in a weedy, yet refreshing, lake. I did not write about my sweet co-worker using the "devil's number" as a sample identification number in a video (apparently, it is a very lucky number in China).

I did not write about needing to travel to upstate New York to clean out my Grandma's house for purposes of sale, leaving early tomorrow, and not having one clean pair of panties, one clean pair of socks (even mismatched), or any clean and appropriate clothing for my 95-year-old Aunt Margaret's birthday celebration.

So IOU. I owe you some reaking descriptions of skunky action. I owe you some Fantastic Inner Body Adventures. And you're not even getting a "Fridays @ Work" column.

With regrets, I leave you, but I am to return next Friday.

Much love,

Rion

Memeaphilia: Eight Things You Hate About Me

2007-07-13T12:15:00.000-04:00

The rules are simple…Each player lists 8 facts/habits about themselves. The rules of the game are posted at the beginning before those facts/habits are listed. At the end of the post, the player then tags 8 people and posts their names, then goes to their blogs and leaves them a comment, letting them know that they have been tagged and asking them to read your blog.

Courtesy of: http://nowwhathappens.blogspot.com/2007/07/8-things-you-hate-about-me.html

Mine are all Habits, but you can also cite Facts.

I repeat myself, all the time, because I like the sound of my own voice. Also, I think better while talking.

I have a tendency to give away plot details (spoilers) from movies, without meaning to.

I scratch my head constantly while in the car.

I ask waitstaff to change at least one item in every meal (Please add chocolate chips to my pancakes. Please remove the onions from the hash browns. Please bring the water with lemon. Exchange the Swiss for cheddar.) Also, I MUST HAVE the booth, if one is available.

I say "That would be a good name for a band/song" on a truly regular basis.

I finish people's sentences (trying really hard not to do that) or give them words they're looking for. I'm usually accurate, but still...

I have a mental block that causes me to never be able to transfer a phone call properly. Thank goodness it happens rarely.

I can be unintentionally mean, since I think people want to hear the truths about themselves and friends (they might should, but they rarely wish to hear these things).

Tag goes out to: Imteaz, Jennifer, Carrie, Michael Woodhead, FranIAm, DigitalCowgirl, LongWayAround, and one more as yet unnamed.

Drill a Man

2007-07-13T10:25:00.000-04:00

"When God wants to drill a man,and thrill a man,and skill a man"

If you would like to read the rest of this fascinating poem, fraught with irony and a touch of sexual tension, please read: http://seansco.blogspot.com/2007/05/how-he-ruthlessly-perfects.html. I really think it is quite good, but the humor does not escape me. It is a little "Hildegard Van Bingen" in its semi-sexual tones.

Enjoy!

Fridays @ Work: Change or Stay the Same?

2007-07-13T09:42:00.000-04:00

Let me posit a hypothetical.

In this hypothetical workplace, Employee R is an innovative thinker. She is always looking to add efficiency, creativity, and design excellence to everything her company does. However, she is thwarted regularly by management types who say that change in certain areas is impossible because the inefficient behavior comes from On High.

Now, Ms. R can be practical. Rome wasn't built in a day, and various aphorisms. However, in this case the management seems to her to be becoming apologists for bad behavior On High. Is it dangerous politically for her to buck the system? Would it be better to put up, shut up, and move on when the time is right?

These questions bring up the deeper issue of the constant struggle between the Old Guard and the Younglings. For the Old Guard, it may be nice to change with the times and benefit from leaps in technology, but it is hard for some to give up WordPerfect 3.0 for which you know the key combos so well, triplicate forms, and broken design cycles. For Younglings, it may be great to innovate, but you have to live with the consequences of your good idea. The effort of forcing people to change can be exhausting, and can cause ill will.

The only truth here is this: changing or remaining the same are both active pursuits. They both have consequences. The balance of how much remains the same and how much changes should be a conscious decision, and our emotional attachments to certain behaviors (whether it is always to use the old way, or to always use the new way) should be out in the open and considered. There is value to every way, but the approach can make or break the solution.

I can't wait until Younglings drive me crazy with their incessant pleading to change from physical keyboards to holographic ones. This is my challenge to the future.

Michigan Radio: My NPR Station, Liberabliss

2007-07-10T17:58:00.000-04:00

I never thought that I could be
quite so educatedly nerdy
As when I was bit by the NPR bug
And now I wonder how I got around
As stupid as a bathroom rug

Before, it was DJs pranking calls
Mimicking farts and old person falls
Mildly racist jokes and bad music
Mornings with Sam and Jack, or Todd and Dick "with Bimbo!"
Were enough to make this fallen intellectual sick

But from the heavens (or at least Ann Arbor)
Came the holiest Enpea Arr
And suddenly I began to know my ass
From the seat of my sensible car

Environmental reverie, and the dulcet tones of the World
The Story, and BBC
Suddenly I get an African American perspective with News and Notes, and dig on Diane Rhem
Good grief, now I can actually make a good argument

Okay, the rhyming began to wear on me, but:
I
HEART
http://www.michiganradio.org/

Eight Things You Don't Know About Me*

2007-07-09T14:07:00.000-04:00

*Thanks for the tag from FranIAm at http://festinalente.blogspot.com

I have always enjoyed reading dictionaries, encyclopedias, and other great listings. I don't read them like novels, of course, but like many sudden fictions strung together. "Sudden Fiction" is a term I learned at Bard College from my collegiate mentor, poet Robert Kelly. He was the one that urged me to go to Paris and become a poet. Sometimes I regret that I didn't go.
I feel being from an agricultural valley in Alaska, the Matanuska-Susitna Valley, has crafted my psyche in a way that being from Des Moines, Iowa could never have. I generally despise television shows set in Alaska (Northern Exposure, Men in Trees) because they portray a picture that is so unlike Alaska as to be in turns comical and slanderous.
I like smelling things. Everything I pick up in the grocery store, clothing left on my couch, glasses of water, my own hair, my fingernails for errant traces of tuna salad sandwich or raw onion from cooking, books at used bookstores, cell phones, bottled iced tea before drinking. For some reason, my smeller is like my seal of authenticity or purity or status. Without a sniff you never know. I smell detergent in water and food and won't eat or drink from receptacles not entirely free from cleaning products (that most can't detect).
I dream about killing people or running away from people all the time. I promise, I am not psychologically disturbed, and I can't hurt a spider without apologizing first. However, I dream of hacking up zombies and other bad guys on a regular basis. Maybe I watch too much CSI.
I am a fraternal twin. I suppose fellow bloggers wouldn't know this. My twin lives in Madison, WI. Being a twin has been a remarkable influence. Maybe we are sororietal twins, since we are two sisters but not identical?
I have the worst sense of direction known to man or woman. I have a friend I've known since high school, whose parents' house I went to on a number of occasions-- I could not recognize or locate her house without directions. When I finally got my GPS, it was like I saw streams of glory from the firmament. No more getting irretrievably lost. One time I was 1 hour late to an interview, then I got lost getting home for 2 hours. In fact, in my current position I was 1/2 hour late to the interview (due to traffic, then getting lost).
I have a special fondness for trees, rocks, acorns, and squirrels.
I believe everything is improved with peanut butter. I have had rice, spaghetti, Grape Nuts, yogurt, green beans, and so on, with peanut butter.

Interviewed

2007-07-06T15:40:00.001-04:00

1. You are very snarky and funny in your posts. Have you always been this way? How has that served you in life? (2 parts to one question!)

I have always been…honest. What started out as a liability has become more of an asset. For example, I was that kid who pointed out spelling errors on signs in the grocery store. I thrive on attention, so when I discovered I could get a good laugh out of people one time out of ten (if I could also handle the groan nine times out of ten) I went with it.

Blogging has been interesting, because the potential (if only the merest potential) of an actual audience seems to make me funnier.

2. Can you say a few words other than what we have read on your blog, about your interest in being psychic and your ability to be so?

I have always had a sense of familiarity with the paranormal. I enjoy what is beneath the surface. Frequently I have picked people’s thoughts right out of the air and finished their sentences. This can be an annoying habit for others, so I try to keep my mouth shut. Also, this doesn’t work all the time, I just open my mouth and it pops out. This doesn’t work on command.

Right now I have the ability to find lost items (sometimes, if I concentrate), the ability to read auras, an ability to help people heal, and a gift for channeling guides or other energies. However, this is all somewhat untrained. It is important for me not to develop an ego around my gifts. I enjoy reading my own aura and stuck energies, as well, because often I get past life glimpses, and so on.

I have recently learned that it is very important to control one’s ability to be psychic, especially if one is gifted. It can be a little dangerous being able to feel others’ energy. For example, just walking around and getting the sense that someone is a child abuser is not pleasant. Nor is it provable. So, there is this information you can’t always do something with, and that can be frustrating. I get accused of being judgmental, but people always come out the way I had pegged them.

So, I suppose the straightforward answer is that being psychic is the given, and being able to safely use my intuition is akin to knowing a lot of words and wanting to use good grammar. Without control of the language, I cannot effectively use the tool and could get myself into a lot of trouble.

3. American Idol - yes or no. Please explain why.

No. I never got into American Idol. I don’t like that people seem to pick songs that we’ve all heard a million times. I would rather the Idols got their street cred the way everyone else gets it—singing in small clubs, taking voice lessons, practicing, learning to play the piano, and so on.

4. How are things at MOMP's porch?

Ah, the porch is still not done. I hope it will be done in the next month. I feel the vacation was sent to us so that we could see how we react to adversity as a couple. Also, it gave me a window into PJ’s childhood. I cannot imagine that force of negativity always lording over me like a storm cloud. Good grief, no wonder he’s a little wacky sometimes.

5.You have won the Powerball Megamillions lottery - about 250 million. What will you do?

Thank you for asking this question. Dreaming of spending my millions is one of my favorite games. Here’s my strategy.

· First, I pay off all car/house/education/credit card loans for myself and all of my family and close friends. I start a trust fund that would pay out for illness, education, and old age.

· Then, I get a whole new wardrobe, and get help finishing the house and cleaning it up.

· Next, I start a private school and safe house for LGBT teens and youth. I would develop an experiential curriculum and get the advice of my remarkable mother, who has been an educator all her life. I would hire instructors and interns from the LGBT community. The school would get a big chunk of money, they they’d eventually have to be self sustaining.

· Next, I would buy the cottage Up North from my MOMP, for PJ. That way, the whole inheritance question would be solved (4 kids, not all want the cottage).

· Now it’s time for a trip to the British Isles. I’d probably go on a Goddess tour with PJ. Then we could go anywhere he wants to go.

· Back at home, I would get a personal trainer and yogini, and together we’d practice and develop a yoga studio for plus sized men and women.

· Attached to the studio would be a new age shop with all sorts of cool items. I would not supply cheesy items, though.

· Then I’d go back to school and get my MFA in creative writing, do a lot of traveling, and do a lot of mediation and writing.

· Eventually I’d teach psychic development and do psychic healings and readings for others.

· I’d learn about trees and start a sacred grove of trees, with one tree at all the cardinal directions.

Whew! What an exciting life I have. Thanks for asking!

These questions are courtesy of FranIAm: http://festinalente-franiam.blogspot.com/

Thanks for the interview. Now it is time for me to ask you interview questions. Just post here to ask for an interview. This is FUN! I hope I can come up with questions as interesting as Fran’s!

ZE RULES:

Interview rules: 1. Leave me a comment saying "Interview me."

2. I will respond by emailing you five questions. I get to pick the questions.

3. You will update your blog with a post containing your answers to the questions.

4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview someone else in the same post.

5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.

Fridays @ Work: Get Smart

2007-07-06T11:07:00.000-04:00

My generation is caught in the crux between Generation "i" and the boomers, and we experience this change in the workplace. We can no longer trust our positions, our stability, our health care. We actually feel a little entitled to the stability of Olde. Both of my parents are drawing on retirement funds, something unheard of these days. I'm not sure even the government offers these kinds of benefits any more.

The younger generation never played a cassette tape, or sent out 100s of resumes on cotton-laid paper. This group doesn't expect any stability at work. They are made of modeling clay-- so flexible.

What do we all do make this new age work? Well, its all about being a free agent. Even though I am affiliated with my workplace, I'm proud of our products, and I'm developing a relationship with the management-- I still think every day about how I can groom myself for the next gig Just In Case. Tom Peters has the right idea in The Brand You 50. Although the writing style is a little (okay, a lot) stilted and tries a little too hard to be hip, the message is clear: be excellent, because you're not going to be taken care of by the world or by any organization. Be amazing, to differentiate yourself from all the other worker bees.

It has taken me a long time to get to the point, and its just this: LEARN. Learn to blog. Learn to use Photoshop. Learn basic accounting. Learn basketweaving. Exercise those synapses. At least, that's the cheer of my internal cheerleader. Be great. Be indispensable. Be not afraid.

What should we be learning? Tell me the few essentials in your job that should be universal knowledge. You'll learn from the exercise.

Habitat for Insanity

2007-07-05T14:18:00.000-04:00

This long weekend my partner and I were challenged by trying to replace a huge portion of my MOMP's (Mother of My Partner) cottage's porch Up North in Oscoda, Michigan. It was quite comical, kind of a "swallowed the spider to catch the fly" event.

We tore up one section of the porch, only to find the other section needed doing, as well.
We bought only a small amount of lumber, hoping to reuse the old planks, since the lumber was "too expensive". Good grief. $100 worth of lumber would have saved us six hours!
We ran out of 8d, 3in deck nails (they are spiral on the end, for some reason), and could find no supplier in town. For those interested, the "d" is the diameter in millimeters, the "in" is length in inches.
We needed new metal fixtures for the structure (underneath, the beams are attached using metal devices), that seem to not be purchasable.
We were berated twice for being late for dinner(trying to conserve sunlight).

MOMP was in rare form. She tried to hand me a dog poo because my doggie produced it, even through she was three feet from the trash. She flipped PJ in the forehead like he was Moe and she was Curly. She hollered about us being late for dinner, even though we said we wouldn't be ready until late (working on a project for her). She surveilled parts of the construction process, making me so nervous I hit myself in the breast with a crowbar-- removing an attractive chunk of missing flesh. She made herself sick because we got fresh mustard potato salad from the case instead of getting the same brand and type, prepackaged. Interesting how lactose intolerance goes away for ice cream and pizza, but comes back when you don't want to eat anywhere but Burger King. Okay, one more-- she was piqued that I didn't try her method of eating sweet corn, which entails slashing each row of kernels down the center, so as to extract only the sweet insides of each and leave the skin of each kernel.

Anyhow, enough ranting. We are worried that she is starting to deterioriate into her old catty self, the mom he knew as a child. It is strange that someone so interesting could also be so wenchy, for no reason. My problem is how she makes him feel. In the long run, I guess I don't really care about her approval, but I really don't want her torturing PJ. He is a wonderful, helpful person who deserves her thanks, not her venom.

The best part about the trip was the view (we never made it down to the beach) and the sweet corn. Oh, and the return home. (Maintaining my amusement! :-)

Fridays @ Work: 5 things you can do in under a minute to improve work

2007-06-29T10:45:00.000-04:00

Aren't I charming to use the @ sign in my title? So 90's!

Anyhow, this will be my regular Friday column about the crux between work and weekend life. This, especially, is a weekend of all weekends for me, as I have M - W off (W is the 4th of July).

Today's topic is good works in the workplace that can be done in under one minute. Sorry if I get a little preachalicious. I feel strongly.

1. Replace the bottled water when you drink the last cup (or even, almost the last cup).

We all like a nice, clean, non-chlorinated drink of aqua from time to time. Water is The Essential Thing that we are all made of. We forget we have it easy; our forebears had to climb mountains or uncover streams to locate water nowhere near as clean as this H2O we take for granted. And I'VE SEEN YOU, YES YOU, walk away from the water because it needed a new bottle. I'VE SEEN YOU leave two tablespoons of water for the next person. Anyone under or close to 100 pounds has a special dispensation due to the weight of the water. For the chunky rest of us? Come on! Remember your mom and her insistence upon refilling of the paper products. Who likes to be caught with a spilled Coke on the floor, and no paper towelling in sight? So refill the water. Anyhow, do you really want to be running back to work? A little exercise could do us good. And water. You just channel your inner Viking! Throw that jug of water on your shoulder and heave-ho, you Water Superhero!

2. Don't wear perfume.

This topic is emotionally charged. People feel that their scent defines them as much as their clothing or their words. However, for those with chemical sensitivities, your perfume/cologne/deodorant/hand lotion/dryer sheets can cause asthma attacks, migraines, and itchiness to rival your Second Grade Chickenpox. It's not just a matter of avoiding you, it is a matter of avoiding the air you have touched. Can ya see how that might be hard? :-) So, as difficult as it may be, don't load up with AXE before going to work. Even though Opium may be your idea of heaven, it could be my idea of one hell of a headachy afternoon and itchy night.

3. When you ask "How are you?" listen for the response.

Pleasantries can be overlooked, but they really help bond us together. Our lives interact in so many visible and invisible ways. Knowing someone is having a great time at home can help free you to ask them for work favors. Knowing someone is struggling at home can help you understand when they don't refill the water cooler. Just a thought! :-)

4. Encourage your cave dwelling compadres to emerge into the light.

The natural world is our world, yet we divide ourselves from the sun, the rain, the trees. It is practical to do this, but (literally) it is unnatural. So go outside for a few minutes. Soak up some sun. Hug a tree. Gauge the breeze. Notice the phase of the moon. It's good stuff.

5. Tell people when they do a good job.

Okay, this is corny, but really tell people when they do well. If you notice yourself relying upon someone, tell that person how invaluable he/she is. We all have an inner kindergartner who likes a gold star.

Mercury in Retrograde and Backwards Voodoo Rituals

2007-06-28T12:29:00.000-04:00

Yesterday in Channelling Practice, we were running white light energy through our bodies, contacting a healing guide, and clearing karma with John's business/psychic partner, Gloria, who has just broken her leg.

The idea with clearing karma (or, past energy arrangements, cords, pictures, lifetime agreements) with Gloria is that we could free Gloria's energy and get out of her space so that her energy can be fully directed towards healing herself, instead of tied up in historical knots with us. Often people travel in the same circles lifetime after lifetime, with different relationships to the same people over and over--until we learn what we need to from each other.

So, my healing guide came in on the white light energy, and it was an incarnation of myself, a voodoo priest/ess. I was withdrawing a ritual I'd cast on Gloria (her former incarnation). The smoke returned to the candle. The herbs returned to my hands. The spit whiskey returned to my mouth. I walked counter to the previous direction. I drew sigils backwards to take them off of her. All the energy invested in the ritual was purified, all physical items burnt to ash, no harm done or meant.

I found this fascinating. When I see pictures of past lives, I am often a shaman of some sort.

I shared with the group. A very lovely woman who I've chatted with on a number of occasions said: maybe the voodoo came up because of the broken bones! Now for the Mercury Retrograde part. I was immediately offended. Although she was trying to be cute/funny, it sounded as if she were laughing at my vision, calling it "imagination" instead of truth. I said, trying to be joke-y to avoid sounding hurt: "My imagination just doesn't run in those directions." What I meant was that this wasn't something I would have chosen for a fantastical "dream past".

She was joking, but communication just immediately broke down. And nobody found my experience cool and/or funny. They seemed a little taken aback, seeming to be thinking: Why is casting a voodoo spell on Gloria funny?!

It is funny how in people's past lives they are always "Napoleon" or "Joan of Arc" instead of a pauper in a village, a small caterpillar, or a lawyer in the 50's. Am I guilty of such high standards for the travels of my embodiment? Or do I see truth?

As for the Mercury in Retrograde? It could have validity. I must read more on it. My soul did mention that I am a little too arrogant about my psychic ability for my own good. I will have to meditate on that. Harumph. In the meantime, don't cross me, I have a predilection for poppets and pins.

Mortgage Woes: The Unbearable Coolness of Me

2007-06-26T11:00:00.000-04:00

I have already screwed up my mortgage payments due to a misunderstood codicil in the online paperwork for an automatic payment plan. My first automatic payment was taken out, but then the second one wasn't. When I called, I find out that the company cancelled the plan because I hadn't paid an extra month in advance (which I couldn't get from the documentation). I also was charged a $52 late charge, and $12 for paying with the customer service agent (instead of mailing it).

I write this because I find it hard to believe that this is really my fault. These strange rules are put in place to suck the life out of people who can barely afford their mortgages as it is. I mean, I have a Master's degree and I couldn't figure it out. If I had let it go...not called when I didn't see the next payment withdrawn...?

Things like this have happened frequently to me. For example, there was the time when I had to use AOL to dial up. I tried to cancel, but the person on the phone told me "well, you have 25 days left of service, why not cancel at the end of the 25 days?". I told them okay, well then cancel me after those days. However, it doesn't work that way, you have to call them precisely when you want to cancel. So I accidentally forgot to cancel it, and ended up with 6 months of AOL payments on my credit card statements. Since my payments were made automatically, I didn't notice the line item for the AOL. One month I knew I hadn't used the card, and still was billed, so I checked into it and--lo and behold--an AOL charge. I had not so much as checked an email or surfed the web for 8 months, and still, nobody thought to contact me to cancel my account. How much money does AOL make from these strange rules?

Well, they might have made some money on me, but my level of animosity towards AOL (yes, I know, animosity is an unhealthy emotion) is high. I would never recommend anyone use their services. Ever. And my mortgage company, Countrywide (after the loan was sold to a different company than I was dealing with originally-- apparently a common practice), has instantly left a bad taste in my mouth.

Where is the good customer service?

So what's funny about this? Nothing. Just sharing.

What's wonderful about this? Well, all it took for me to get over the Countrywide debacle last night was a few pieces of pizza and a new episode of The Closer. It's the simple things.

Much love to the fantastically sly Universe.
Rion

Happy Summer Solstice, Bad Witch, Too!

2007-06-21T11:48:00.001-04:00

Summer Solstice is at 2:06PM today. In less crazy times I'd have celebrated with at least a little ritual to welcome the season, give thanks for my blessings, and thank the Goddess.

However, I am at work, it looks to rain heartily, and I've prepared nothing. I'm a good witch, I am! (protests)

Perhaps this little blog entry is my celebration.
We have so much to celebrate. I thank the universe for my attic fan, as it noisily brings in the cool nighttime air. I am blessed with an interesting life and a steady job. I have a whole herd of amazingly loving animal babies at my house. The natural world balances me graciously in its arms. I enjoy walking outdoors and feeling the lushness of the trees brush my cheeks (the energy of the lushness, not really the trees themselves). I live in a place rich with water, sunshine, and greenery. Love is abundant.

From the psychic perspective, I have a lot of blocks that I'm constantly working on (I just figured this out this morning), like sedimentary rocks being dissolved from parts of my aura. The heaviness of the blockages is tiring. Yet it is all interesting, and I'm glad to see what I need to see to act upon those blocks more consciously.

PJ told me he's had two pet snakes curl tightly around a florite crystal to die. The crystal feels good psychically. I wonder if it is the florite in general, or just for the benefit of PJ, who is very spiritually close to the creatures.

I celebrate every day.

I'm a very naughty psychic

2007-06-21T11:37:00.000-04:00

I've been a bad little psychic.

The group had a telephone session last night (our first) and I dialed in obediently. Usually with this form of meditation I am sitting in a straight-backed chair, but since I am in my house full of boxes, and to avoid being bothered by the television, I went upstairs and laid down on the bed to meditate. My tiny chihuahua, Macchiato, snuggled up next to me to do his own form of meditation.

I put the phone on speaker, and within clearing of the first chakra I fell asleep. I can't even claim to have been simply out of body-- since I have no recollection whatsoever of the entire hour.

Thank goodness all the students were on mute or else my snoring (I have sleep apnea, currently poorly controlled) might have been seriously disruptive. "Stay in the center of your head, and focus on your third...SNNNNNNNURGHHHHH, humuna humuna hummmuhnaaaa. SNurt!".

However, that was a fantastic nap and I don't feel that badly about it. I have been pretty exhausted lately. I wish I'd stayed alert for concepts, however. Perhaps my dreaming self followed along with the meditation.

Hah hah to those looking for dirty thoughts and whatnot-- I'm not that kind of blogger! :-)

The Adventurers Club

2007-06-20T16:58:00.000-04:00

There is this fantastic concept out there on the web, this thing of light, it is called the Adventurers Club. This group of individuals works to inspire us to live out our dreams. Even though it is a commercial prospect, I see the truth of it.

I get their daily Notes from the Universe. While simple, they can be occasionally profound. I imagine that the self-improvement materials there could also be worth taking a look at, too.

I took the oath,
Rion

Today's Adventure

2007-06-20T16:13:00.000-04:00

Today's post details the psychological characteristics of a server I had at Red Robin. No kidding. I am no psychoanalyst, but this poor kid gushed out his life story to my partner and I, at the booth while we ordered giant burgers.

The young man was handsome, yet very chunky, and he was sweating like he'd just run a 20K in the Sahara. He talked speedily, and regaled us with pleasantries, explaining the entire menu to us (hmm, we've seen menus before). He felt it necessary to share with us that he'd fought with his girlfriend, couldn't sleep at all the previous night, and needed desparately to do laundry.We were chid for being "booth snobs", as all the servers struggle for tips if they don't have booths in their territories.

This kid's aura was all over the place, upset, dazed, frazzled, yet trying to please. The chaos was interesting to listen to. I think my partner felt he should charge for counseling time (he is a social worker!). In the noise of the crowded restaurant, with the whirr of the blender, the blare of the music, and the laughing, crying, scolding, and discussing coming from all tables, I could see that our server really was being impacted by it all.

Come to think of it, I need to do some clearing to release the stress of this scene. It was madly chaotic, and noisy environments are difficult for me to bear (noisy psychically as well as physically loud). Ground ground ground. Don't let me throw that trip on you-- you ground too, if you like.

I've got so much joy about the evening. We went out to somewhere fun (instead of fast food), and I enjoyed being out and about. The food was fantastic, and I got a smoothie (feeling virtuous, although the caloric expenditure was no doubt high). The guy was funny, that's what I'm saying.

Basic Psychic Development: An Essential Book in Any Seeker's Library

2007-06-16T12:17:00.000-04:00

I highly recommend Basic Psychic Development by John Friedlander and Gloria Hemsher for budding psychics and anyone interested in self-improvement, even non-hippie types. This book contains practical information you can use to improve your life. This is not about bending spoons or World Domination. You will not be firestarting or raising voodoo zombies from the dead with this book. No, This book focuses on exercises you can do to balance and utilize your energy wisely, to know yourself better, and to enjoy life more.

Use this book to:

Learn about chakras, the energy centers of the body
Explore your true purpose on the planet
Become more aware of your intuition
Balance your energy and heal old wounds
Interact skillfully with others

Basic Psychic Development: A User's Guide to Auras, Chakras & Clairvoyance

Grounding

2007-06-16T11:03:00.000-04:00

Grounding is integral to my life these days, but I can remember when I was rarely grounded. Things upset me greatly. Imagined or real slights. Bad grades. The wrong kind of breakfast cereal. Being around people was a drug- with good or harmful effects.

So what's comedic about being ungrounded? SO MUCH. A passel of teens running around with amorphous personal spaces, sucking up each other's angst like so many cokes, emotionally unstable, can be a little funny. One kid on the road who rear-ended me was probably not grounded and running off Brittney Spears energy, Paris Hilton energy, and LaKisha energy-- not her own energy. So how can we expect her to pay attention? She's got a Grecian chorus disagreeing in her head. It's like running a humidifier full of corn oil.

As a teen, I read fantasy novels about imaginary worlds of wizardry, magic, special powers, and kings and queens. There were many *sighs*, many fights to the death, much pageantry. Most particularly, I enjoyed Mercedes Lackey's Valdemar. Her heroes and heroines were valiant, passionate, wounded types--with great mystical powers that needed to be honed and controlled (else they become a danger to themselves and others). Grounding in Valdemar (if I remember correctly) included using rooms with woven magic around them, using stones that were fused with the earth, and working with protections on ley lines. Others could also "ground you" using their own magical powers or ghostly guardians. Everyone has names like Moonflower or Starchalice.

The wisdom and accuracy of those fantastical writings is surprising. But working with energy isn't necessarily magical. After all, the spark of life in all of us is mysterious, but not usually otherworldly. The energy that flows in our bodies is clear to see. Otherwise, how would we move, think, or communicate? The encoding of our DNA, the birth of a higher consciousness on Earth-- all this is really special, and never required a wand.

Since we are bodies comprised of energy, it isn't a far stretch to understand that energy affects us greatly. The energy of others is most plainly felt when strong emotions are involved. Ever know who walked into a room before the person announced their presence? Ever known the caller before answering a ringing phone? Ever noticed your day become bad after talking with a friend in misery? These show the permeability of the fields of energy around us every day.

Tuning into the energies of the world and its people can be exciting. It gives us greater insight into how people are feeling, and can even reveal "secret" information that you might not be privy to through your other senses. But how do you keep from allowing all these competing energies to dictate your existence? Grounding. Grounding. Grounding.

Working with John Friedlander, I learned to ground by imagining (or simply creating) a cord of energy from my first chakra to the core of the Earth. This is like a cosmic safety net. Like grounding for an outlet in your bathroom, the grounding helps keep you safe and energetically balanced. Energies that are not useful are reabsorbed into the Earth.

Each person has their own energy or energies that are native energies. My energies work best with me. If I keep this energy flowing, it is a hygienic process like blood circulating. Good things are carried to their locations, bad things are carried away, and the organism grows and progresses. Other energies that I can use are the energies of the Earth and the Cosmos. These energies are universally useful and strengthening- and it's hard to "bite off more than you can chew" since they are self-regulating.

Using the energies of other people is not healthy because that energy is tuned to the others' frequencies. It is not the right food for you. So grounding helps keep the energy system running properly, and encourages you to run off of your own energy, Earth energy, and Cosmos energy instead of other people's energy or the energy of other beings. (Christians may consider Earth and Cosmos energy to really be the strengthening and protective energies of God.)

Okay, so grounding is a topic that takes me all over the map, because its importance is profound for the purposes of using one's own energy. But I want to write a little about the emotional benefits of being grounded. Grounding helps you to be responsible to the needs of your soul. The soul has an agenda for you, and goals for improvement over many lifetimes. Being grounded helps you to recognize (or even, just follow without recognizing) your true purpose here.

After all, your purpose in life is not really to put in your 40 hours a week at work, right? Your purpose is not to get stuck in traffic or be pulled over for speeding. Nope! Bigger and higher purposes await all of us. The lessons of day-to-day life are important if we run off our own energy, because that improves you in the grand scheme of things. If we run off other energies- well, that's a side trip, not progress in the right direction.

So, if you're not grounded right now, try it!

What's funny today??

2007-06-15T10:47:00.000-04:00

Pure happiness gives me a smile today, even with the taste of bad coffee in my mouth, a light headache, and an insufficient bank account. You can laugh because I am "hippied-out" today with my gray embroidered dress and my Crocs and my mismatched (both black) socks. You can laugh because my tattoo is showing and I love it. You can smile because my ponytail is probably what's giving me the slight headache.

I can smile because my blog's name is Spla-choo, because I am a technical writing psychic, and because I had a stale jelly stick (Dunkin Donuts Donut) that probably turned my tongue a slight tinge of red along with the brownish yellow tinge from the coffee. I can smile because I am a fortunate homeowner (at least, mortgager) about to hand over the old keys to the old landlord, Hallelujiah!

I can smile because I enjoy the simple things in life, like my partner taking me out for Dairy Queen last night. I can smile for the too many nuts in my sundae (yes, I didn't know it was possible).

I can smile because I've shared this with you, the ether, or at least myself for bringing it all into conscious thought. I can smile because I'm an Alaskan and I saw an Alaska license plate today.

I love this life, and I thank my soul for picking it out.

100 Words to Know

2007-06-14T12:42:00.000-04:00

This lists the 100 words every high school graduate should know. I suppose that means I should know them too!

http://www.houghtonmifflinbooks.com/booksellers/press_release/100words/

I'm a little hazy on a few of these. Better start reading that dictionary again!

Mommy, what's a psychic?

2007-06-12T16:33:00.000-04:00

I think some people might be turned off or offended by my use of the term psychic. After all, it can refer to mind-readers, spoon-benders, fire-starters, hoax-spreaders, Ouija-board-users, telephone-cheaters, and the like. However, I have learned that being psychic has more to do with developing one’s ability to sense the things that are frequently unseen, unheard, unnoticed. Also, being psychic is a journey of mine to become more authentic to myself. I tap into energies larger than myself (some would say higher power energies) and I’m able to clarify my own mission on this planet.

Sure, I have some strange beliefs. For example, I do believe in reincarnation. But is that any stranger than believing in virgin birth, The Flood, or a host of angels in ranks? However, these beliefs don’t really intertwine with being psychic. I could be psychic and Christian, or psychic and agnostic.

This all sounds very Aquarian, right, very crystal energy and yadda yadda yadda? Well, yes. Having a sense of humor means that sometimes you have to laugh about the weirdness. What verifiable proof have I about auras, chakras, or higher planes? No proof whatsoever. What proof have you that God hears you pray? Again, no proof. There is faith involved here. But the bigger mission, bigger than knowing the precise configuration of the truth, is the seeking. I practice meditation and developing my intuition because I feel I learn truths, I feel more healthy and supported, and I feel interested and interesting.

Know that most psychics cannot necessarily pick each thought from your brain like a cosmic pickpocket—even the very talented ones. Most psychics don’t have great luck picking lottery numbers. Being psychic is not a parlor trick, or a game, not for the honest. Messages and intuitions come through patchily sometimes, but the cool thing is that the messages aren’t really the important part.

This is all unclear, and goes against my urge to write this technically. What’s so funny about being a psychic? Well, the bullshit meter has to be on All The Time. Constantly I weigh the useful against the suspect. Imagine living in a world where the laws of gravity changed daily, or were so complex they were hard to quantify. That’s my world. Having an open mind means sometimes I have to suspend disbelief before I say X, Y, or Z is completely inane.

Think about Dark Matter. Proven? Believed in? What about God. Proven? Believed in?

If there is a choice between believe and not-believe, I will always be on the side of believe. There’s no question. Because I know of the infinite mystery of all that is. I know there is so much we don’t know. I am not the definer of truth, nor is my sense any more valuable than others sense—but I do know that majority doesn’t always know better. The majority used to believe in hitting children. The majority used to believe in marrying off 12 year old girls to 40 year old men. The majority used to believe in a flat world. What other majority beliefs are pure crapola?

So, this post makes no sense. But since nobody is reading this blog, I assume I’ll be safe.

How's the unpacking going?

2007-06-11T17:26:00.001-04:00

Ah, well the unpacking has yet to start. We are still hauling the last remnants from the rental house into the new house. It has been a pretty rough couple of weeks. We really pushed to try to get it done over the weekend, but failed to get everything out (final move-out is Friday midnight, cleaning people coming tomorrow AM). So, there will be a few more days of moving back and forth. A lot couldn’t be moved by the movers because it was fragile, unwieldy, or not packed yet. Some we just didn’t think about until it was too late (the mysterious under-sink zone, replete with liquor I hardly ever touch, cleaning supplies I touch less frequently, shoe polish, and empty peanut butter jars). Oh the joy of it all. Somehow PJ and I are still together, no major arguments (although there have been hints of terseness), all of the animals are still contained, and we maintain our sanity (barely).

Until that magical time when we hand over our keys to the landlord, and hopefully get the full deposit back (to waterproof our basement, at least, a start to that), we are like little rats in our maze of boxes. Frankly it is a little ridiculous! You have to laugh. At least we have pathways to necessary items (easy chairs, television, bathrooms, laundry, kitchen sink, refrigerator, sunroom, and various exits). The cats love burrowing in boxes and befurring clothing that is stacked here and there.

Wish us luck in the meantime!

How Are You?

2007-06-11T12:24:00.000-04:00

How are you?
Peachy, just spent all weekend hauling boxes of crap I'll never use from my rental house to my new (1914, Dutch Colonial) house.
That good, huh?
That good. And my partner is about to fall apart at the knees.
The knees?
He has bad knees.
Huh.
Anyway, this has been awfully tiresome. We'll be glad when the move is officially over June 15.
Ah, there could be worse things to complain about then being able to afford a house.
(Um) Correction, being able to borrow the money for a house.
Touche.
But we are fortunate, yes. Even when other homeowners croon "Ah-hah, the basement flooding! The trouble is just beginning, it's never-ending. You don't own the house. The house owns YOU!" (Cackle)

We adore our house, and are conscious of the luck and the hard work that goes into such a venture. We are lucky that my Mom and Dad loaned me the money to pay off my credit cards (ran up the cards on dental work, woo woo, I'm a party girl) so I have a good credit score. We are fortunate to be employed at good places. We are rare and special because we have each other, two chihuahuas, and two kitties. I'm happy. But--I'm dead tired. This is a magic wand moment. Too bad mine only works for dowsing and finding lost television remotes.

Much love to the mad ass universe.
Rion

Find your meditation

2007-06-09T11:27:00.000-04:00

What keeps you grounded, moving forward, challenged but safe, peaceful yet motivated, interesting yet not full of yourself? Meditation.

Meditation has many forms, a few of which I'll list. There's prayer, silent meditation, ritual, guided meditation, walking meditation, Qi Gong, Tai Chi, energy work, knitting-- just to name a few. Regardless of the spiritual impact or flavor of the meditation, I recommend it.

Most meditations encourage a form of balance or rootedness.

What do people do without meditation? The waves and upswells of emotion crash over them, and like buoys they are swept around. The environment, however natural, seems more violent. Other people, however well-meaning, seem more devious. Any perceived slight is magnified and carried through the day.

The other day I was caught in a flash downpour on the highway, and the traffic slowed to around 40 mph. Even that 40 mph seemed a little fast for me, as I couldn't see more than blurs with the water pelting my windshield. I turned on my flashers (you may giggle) and tried to keep sight of the car in front of me, staying in the fast lane because changing lanes would have been dangerous. In just a few minutes, the rain cleared and people started to get their bearings. I turned off my blinkers and looked in my rearview mirror, just to see a young man grimacing with anger. Then he honked his horn multiple times, nearly running his red pickup truck into my Civic, and raced around me on the right, craning his neck to holler at me in disgust. He was a sort of gargoyle of a man.

This displays perfect need for meditation. My slow car, even in a reasonable environment, fired this man up to a level where he was furious. He had no ability to analyse the situation logically because of his anger. He had no ability to empathize with me (seeing less of the road being in a smaller vehicle, not seeing flashing lights in front of me like he had with my flashers). And, most importantly, he had no sense of humor about the whole thing.

Because of my meditation work, I was able to separate myself energetically from him (in more common terms, I let his anger roll off of me without impacting me). I was able to see that he felt justified in his outrage. And I was able to move on. Before meditation? Well, I would have had to be upset, afraid to drive, and indignant for at least a week. After meditation? I can laugh! How funny. I could have saved his life with my prudence.

In prayer, which I consider another form of meditation, there is a conversation with a higher power. Just the act of conversing about one's needs and shortcomings can be self-improving, regardless of the higher power's response. Feeling safe allows the person who prays to become more positive, empathetic, resourceful, and compassionate-- and more able to accept the world as it is with faith. Perhaps this is just my take on it, as I haven't prayed, as such, in a long time.

The type of meditation I do could be considered as weird by many. It is energy work, in which representations of the body's energy system (composed of chakras and aura layers) are cleared, straightened, and "plumped up" with the energy of the Earth and the sun (stars, universe, solar system). This could be likened to Christians asking the holy spirit or God to come in to them for healing. I am helping my energy to become more authentic, by clearing out the energy of others.

Why clear out the energy of others? It is done because everyone runs on their own energy the most efficiently and authentically. Running on somebody else's energy not only makes you behave unlike yourself, but it does not have beneficial results. You can feel tired, angry, or unable to deal with the situations you are placed in.

I also take the time to bring all my energy into current time, as much as possible. I think about this as not "resting on my laurels". In other words, what you did a few years ago may be interesting but it does not define you now. Your actions at this moment define you now. You need all your energy in this moment, not tied up with past good or bad events, not tied up in future longings.

What are your feelings on this?

a couple changes

2007-06-08T12:40:00.001-04:00

Creativity at Work

2007-06-07T16:24:00.001-04:00

So creativity at work, what do we think?

Some think it is a waste of time for the non-management types to be creative, if they are not paid to do so. After all, creativity has the possible result of RESULTS, a storm of change, thunder, lightning, and massive drift from the norm. Is that kosher where you work?

Keeping the brain cells firing is so important that the 5 minutes I spend on creativity are paying me back. How?

I am interested in what I’m doing
I’m interesting
I can make connections between what I have done, what I’m doing, what I will do, and what others do
I help others stay interested

Voila.

Creativity isn’t really about desk toys or getting-to-know-you activities. It is the day to day mind-yoga that allows travel to other planes of existence. Creativity gives us atmosphere to breathe.

Read something, okay?!

2007-06-07T15:10:00.001-04:00

There is this awesome site:

http://www.sp-studio.de/

Ode to a Garage Sale

2007-06-04T14:32:00.000-04:00

Perhaps it would be smarter to give everything away
than to sort, label, dicker, bake in the sun all day
and watch people paw your stuff
until you've had quite enough

Perhaps it would make sense to get another job
washing windows, or doing psychic readings
instead of waiting for some jerk to buy your old stereo
maybe it would be better to weed the garden or water seedlings

Perhaps I am indignant because I suffered trying to give these bits away
and they very easily avoided the most tempting novel or knick-knack.

I think rhyming is getting old, but the upshot is that the garage sale was difficult. I put out my best second-best items...and not very many people took the bait. I tried to be generous with my giving, but they weren't buying. I felt invalidated. Now I had better work on that, hadn't I?

Maybe it was just too much sun.

Strange: LinkedIn

2007-06-01T16:21:00.001-04:00

Strange that once you decide to jump in to the modern idea of the workplace you can find it hard to jump back out. Networking, meeting, lunching, greeting, handshaking, blogging, facebooking, iming, blackberrying, oh brother!

Not that I don’t love it.

Every new connection sews a square on a quilt of coverage. Who would be fun to do something with? Sure. But who can introduce me to whom? Even better. Who can expose me to another philosophy, a different cultural experience, another technical idea? Each connection opens a prism into more knowledge, different vocabularies of thought, different imagery. This is more than what you talk about over lunch. This goes down to the sociopolitical direction of your brain. More logic. More creativity. More ability. More emotional intelligence. Maybe even more money. All can be gained by knowing more people, making more connections.

But do I have it in me? Somewhere it seems a little dubious, like being forced to send Valentines to all your classmates on February 14. How do you know who really likes you and who is just building a network? How can people know this about me?

I just like people but I do also see the more strategic benefits. Is this just wrong?