Hey, look! We got the candle up!

It's in our front yard, secured to one of the larger pine trees (you might be able to just make out the trees in the background). It's 25 feet tall, and people driving down the street tend to slow down. I didn't do that great a job arranging the lights in the flame this year. They're threaded through some 1/2" hardware cloth on a frame, and I think next year I'm going to set aside an entire afternoon to getting them the way I want them, then fasten down each and every little light, once and for all.

But it's done. And it's up. That, plus wreaths on two doors and a little 3' tree. We're decorated!

I am the queen of geography!

In the spirit of use it or lose it, I like to do different things to keep my mind challenged. Challenged, that is, in a way that's different from trying to remember why I came into this room, or just where it was I decided would be the perfect place to store the vacuum cleaner bags. That kind of challenge is exactly the reason why I keep at the other kind of challenge: I need to try and slow down the aging of my brain. That relentless decay. The inescapable slide into mental chaos and oblivion. And, as a result of those, having to go buy more vacuum cleaner bags every single time I need one. That would be good to avoid.

I've read many, many places that to keep the mind "young," you need to keep it creating new neural paths. That means learning new things. A new language is good, and that's on my To Do list. Doing familiar things in a new way is good. Math is very good. But the thing that really gets me going is geography. And by that I really just mean knowing where places are.

I know where places are. Almost all of them.*

I can name, off the top of my head, 185 countries. (It does take a few minutes, but still.) I can do all the Sporcle and Jetpunk geography quizzes that have to do with which countries are where, or what the name of those outlines on the map are. I can fill in the map tests at worldatlas.com. I've taken the time to learn it because it fascinates me.

I am fully aware that this particular body of knowledge doesn't really do much for me in real life, though I sure did know what directions the refugees were streaming when they were leaving Libya for Tunisia. And I knew the general area where the Kenyans were setting up camps to house Somalian refugees without checking a globe. And if my fantasies start coming true and someone suddenly asks me to identify all the countries in eastern Europe, I'm so ready.

In addition to the (I hope) brain benefits, I also have to think of this as kind of a hobby. I say have to because it takes up more time than you would think. The fact is, my brain and I aren't as young as we used to be, and if I don't keep reinforcing this information, it seems to somehow leak out or something. So I periodically go over all the maps, making sure I remember what's where and how to spell Kazakhstan and Kyrgyzstan and whether Oman and Yemen are in alphabetical order or reverse alphabetical order (just so you know, it's reverse).

I spent today "going over" it. Today. As in all day. As in I got up at a reasonable hour, made coffee, then sat my fat ass down at the computer and played geography trivia quizzes and filled in maps all. day. long.

So…I think I'll go take a shower now. Brush my teeth. I'm a little ambivalent about the whole makeup thing, seeing as it's five o'clock. PM. [sigh] Tomorrow will be more productive, I'm sure, now that my brain is all tuned up. Right.


*I kind of stink at Oceania and the Caribbean. I know everywhere else, though.**

**Yes, everywhere.

Good grief!

I didn't realize how long it had been since I posted anything. I look at my blog every single day, checking to see if the people I follow (look left) have made new entries, but somehow it doesn't really register just how long it's been since I've posted. I even kind of made a secret semi-resolution to update this blog more often. Huh. Starting today. Really.

We're going to the Dallas Stars game tonight. Nothing unusual about that, except it might possibly cross my mind that I could be at home, snuggled up with my dogs and cats (instead of Lydia cuddling on the couch with them, though they'd probably just as soon that it be her) rather than schlepping through the cold rain to AAC.

At least it might cross my mind except for the fact that tonight is our last Dallas Stars game for four weeks and two days! Between an extended road trip (them) and various holiday commitments (us), it just doesn't work out again until January. This is one of the more difficult aspects of being a sports fan. They don't play hockey in summer. They don't play baseball in winter. (Fortunately, though, if you're a hockey and baseball fan, you're set.) A drought like this in the middle of the season just doesn't seem right. Someone hand me the remote!

So after tonight it's all about getting ready for Christmas, which means knitting and cooking. The knitting goes on and on. I've been considering giving the Noro entrelac scarf I've been knitting to my mother-in-law, because she really admired it when she saw me working on it. I hesitate, though, because she's a little tiny woman (barely five feet tall) and it's kind of a gigantic scarf, 10" wide and 4' long so far, and I've still got most of the third skein left! I'm cooking for Christmas, too, trying a couple of unusual recipes to be gifts for my niece who asked for "crazy interesting foods or ingredients." We'll see how that goes. Between the scarf of enormous proportions and making recipes I've never tried before, I actually have a lot of potential for ending up at Walgreen's at 10pm Christmas Eve, looking for replacement gifts.

Speaking of cooking, and while I've got you, I'm thinking about adding a recipe/cooking section here. It would be handy to have my recipes online where I can get to them when I'm standing in the grocery store wondering if I'm actually remembering all the ingredients or not. What do you think? Would you care? Would you look at it? (It'll make a big difference in how much time I spend on making it look good if I'm the only one who'll see it.)

Well, anyway, there you go. That's an update. I'll try to make it more interesting next time, and see if I can also get in the habit of not waiting weeks in between.

Off to brave the cold and rain now. We've really got to have toilet paper before the freeze hits on Monday!

Randomness, or Holiday Brain

Actually, the Unclutterer blog (look at that reading list to the left) calls it vacation brain, but I think 'Holiday Brain' gives more of a hint as to all the preparation involved.

Yes, it's that time of year again, when the childless couple starts making their rounds. Never having had babies means that we never had an excuse to not travel during the holidays, so none of the kinfolk ever got in the habit of coming to our house instead of us going to theirs. So that's what we do. Every year. Forever and ever, amen. Holidays, for us, mean being somewhere else. (Except the 4th of July, which is firmly centered in Southlake.) I used to decorate the house, putting up wreaths and Christmas trees and candles and tablecloths with centerpieces, the whole shebang. But then I realized at some point that Rich genuinely doesn't give even half a flip, so I'm only doing it for myself. And since I'm the one who has to do all the work to get it done, then undo it afterwards…well, apparently there are limits to how much trouble I'm willing to cause myself.

Anyway…yes, getting ready to leave town for a few days, which means that the fabulous Lydia (and her significant other) are moving in. This is the best arrangement anyone has ever had, petsitting-wise. We don't have to worry about the animals, we don't have to worry about the house. I (absolutely not Rich) just have to make sure the house isn't so gross that they refuse to ever come back.

So I'm cleaning today, as well as getting ready to pack, and making sure I love on all our animals since I won't see them for a week. And making little decisions. Should I take my laptop (a bit of an ordeal, since it's attached to a backup drive, external speakers and a separate monitor), or just rely on my iPad (which doesn't allow me to do absolutely everything I might want to do)? What knitting shall I take (this is an important decision, which non-knitting muggles might not fully appreciate)? What's the weather going to be like (okay, that one I can get an answer to pretty easily)? Shall I spend time today finishing that one job (time I could spend cleaning and whatnot) or leave it 'til we get back (and worry about it the whole week)?

And what about the Stars?

We have a game tonight, which is actually the reason we're leaving tomorrow instead of today. They haven't been playing very well lately (!), but we already paid for the tickets….Okay, that sounded a lot more discouraged than I actually feel. They're in a slump, but they'll bounce back. And they have a new owner, which is a huge step forward. And, besides, I love going to games, the whole fan experience, so much that pretty much any game is going to be fun. (And this year there are bobble heads!)

And "bobble heads" leads us right back to what kind of a day I'm having. I'm pretty much a bobble head today. A Holiday Brain bobble head. It'll get better, but for right now, it's looking like one heck of a random day.

So, before I forget, let me just say, "Happy Thanksgiving." Have a great turkey day, in case we don't talk again before then, spend wisely on Black Friday, and I wish you luck keeping your own Holiday Brain in check.

Coach Glen Gulutzan's team chemistry building methods

As I mentioned on October 16th, the Dallas Stars have a bunch of new players this season. Mike Heika, of the Dallas Morning News, blogged today about head coach Glen Gulutzan's efforts to build chemistry between the players, including the seven new guys.

To bring that group together quickly requires some "chemistry building games." Donkeyball was one…

(Donkeyball, according to Heika, involves kicking a soccer ball over a makeshift net and trying to not let it hit the ground. The game is played in a hallway, so there are rules about ceilings. There are brief clips of one such game in some of the in-arena videos shown on the Jumbotron at Stars games.)

…while Stars coach Glen Gulutzan started practice with an 11-on-11 hockey game that included two pucks and wild youth soccer-like action.

It came up in today's blog because there was a competitive game of Donkeyball between Dowell and Fiddler (see the 10/16 post) before today's practice at the Verizon Center in D.C. (where the Stars will be playing the Caps tomorrow). The whole rest of the team watched and cheered. Dowell, who claimed to be the underdog, won, and celebrated by leaping over the net and ripping his shirt off.

First: I'd love to have seen that 11-on-11 game! All those guys and two pucks. That's got to be some entertaining mayhem. (I was a dancer for many years — years and, yes, many pounds ago — and we were painstakingly choreographed and well practiced on stage. But sometimes, at certain events, some of us would get to take part in The Chicken Dance. And it was total chaos. When you're used to something organized and orderly, that's a real treat.)

Secondly: Smart guy, that Gulutzan. I think I get now why they're winning.

Bad Timing & Two Ways to Help Your Team

Bad timing 1: The very back/bottom of my hair is much too long, and has been for a while. I looked at my calendar two weeks ago and saw that my next haircut wasn't 'til November 1st, so I thought I'd call and schedule a quick touch-up. I didn't do that. I did, however, think to call this morning. Only now, of course, November 1st is only a week away, so making a special appointment seems a little silly. For the next seven days, I guess I'll be sporting a girl mullet.

Bad timing 2: Back ache. Bad back ache. Suddenly, as I got out of the car to walk into Kroger this morning. Actually, we got out. Rich wanted to go with me to run errands (bank, Costco, Kroger), which is fine and all, but which really, really makes me feel like we're his parents. (They go everywhere together. Everywhere.) I admire them greatly, you understand, but they're 85. We're not 85 yet. So I may have been feeling a little more tension than absolutely necessary. In any case, back ache today. Chiropractor's appointment tomorrow. Their office is closed Tuesdays, so I can't even beg them to move it up. Guess I'll really get my money's worth when I finally go. If I'm up and around.

How to Help Your Team 1: Buy season tickets. Go to games. Cheer loudly. Applaud wildly.

How to Help Your Team 2: Do not even think of watching them on TV. I watched the World Series game on Saturday, a train wreck of a game for the Rangers. We made a big deal of it, having (upscale) ballpark food for dinner, both of us sitting down to watch, the whole nine yards. They lost 16-7. After that, I decided I couldn't do that again, and the next game the Rangers won 4-0. Taking the hint, I kept the TV tuned elsewhere last night and they won that game, as well.
     They'll be playing Wednesday in St. Louis. I'll be avoiding watching. If anyone wants to, you can come take away my phone and iPad, and I won't even be able to check the scores.

Whatever it takes. You know, besides timing.

Reasons to like Stars hockey

The first day of NHL free agency this past July, the Dallas Stars signed six new players. Last week, they acquired another through trade (there were salary cap issues).

I love hockey because it's a very fast-paced, high-energy game. And, well, also because of this. These are those seven new players:

Sheldon Souray

Jake Dowell

Eric Nystrom

Vernon Fiddler*

Radek Dvorak

Michael Ryder

Adam Pardy

Seriously. Damn.


*This whole little exercise, my Googling² the new players' photos, started when they showed a picture of Vernon Fiddler on the Jumbotron during the game last night. He was in a suit and tie, clean shaven, hair combed, and he had his teeth in³. He was so handsome, it made me curious about the others.<sup>4

2</sup>The photos all came from Google images, BTW, and I have no rights to them whatsoever. I suppose they'll stay up here until I get caught.

³Vernon doesn't put his teeth in when he plays. Actually, during games he kind of looks like a caricature of a hockey player: all craggy, with stringy hair, dark stubble and missing teeth, very much like someone you really don't want to mess with. But he cleans up real good.

⁴Yes, we can see them during games, but they're wearing their helmets and they're really sweaty (not so much in a steamy, tantalizing way as much as a "Dude! You're dripping on me," kind of way). It's pretty hard to tell what they really look like. The photos are much better.

Really, much better!

Pontification, just to get it off my mind

I realize how pompous I'm about to sound.

Let me just say, first of all, that I'm pretty old. Let me also say that when I think of who I was at 30, and compare that person to who I am now, there's no way I would go back. I'm kinder, more tolerant and, if I do say so myself, wiser. A young friend of mine is bringing up some stuff for me, and I'm absolutely compelled to tell you (or her, and—lucky you—you get to come along for the ride) a few things I've learned.

First: I lived through the fervor and passion of the 70s. You know, when Earth Day first came to be, when the Vietnam War ended, when we (the young people, who were the ones who didn't cause the problems and were going to be the ones to solve the problems) were well aware of the corruption, greed, apathy and general worthlessness of the world, i.e., the generations that came before us. We looked around and were appalled. We were going to fix it.

Then I blinked and it was thirty years later. And—I swear this really happened—I looked at pollution statistics comparing air quality in the 70s and 80s to the 00s and was shocked to see that pollution had gotten worse. What happened? We were going to fix it! We had become the ones in charge, so why hadn't we done it? What happened?

Well, I guess the answer to that isn't anything simple, and you'll have to come up with your own conclusions. My point is that feeling very strongly about a cause, even one that affects people's day-to-day lives, and believing with all your heart that it must be changed, doesn't make it just happen. Apparently it takes some kind of sustained effort, over—maybe—decades and generations. And, believe me, the generations behind you are going to think you've done it all wrong, and they may not think the solutions you suggest are worth pursuing. Don't be surprised at that.

Secondly: It's a bad idea, not to mention naive and insulting, to think that the people who don't agree with you are evil. Ditto for assuming they're simply misinformed, and that if you'll only reveal the truth to them—repeatedly and with ever-increasing stridency—they'll come to realize you're right. It may very well be that they know all the same facts that you know, and they've come to conclusions different than yours. And here's the reason that happens: we're all different. We each have our own perspective.

By all means, try to persuade people to your point of view! Do your best to convince them that your priorities are in the best interest of everyone around. Carefully explain all the reasons they should think like you do. But don't allow yourself to believe that agreeing with you is minimum proof of intelligence. And if they don't agree, it doesn't mean they don't understand.

Life is more complicated than that. Things are more complicated than that. People are more complicated than that.

Third: If you take the position that information sources supporting the opposing point of view contain misleading or deliberately inaccurate information, you must acknowledge that the ones that agree with you could possibly be just as flawed. Yes, you must. It's completely absurd to think that one side has cornered the market on the truth while the other just flops around generating propaganda and trying to mislead people. Do even just the briefest logic check on that.

By the same token, if you believe your sources of facts are correct and well-informed you have to realize that at least some of the other guys' sources are, as well. Yes, I know that sometimes you'll hear, for example, that there were 2,000 protesters at a rally from one source while another source says 20,000. Only one of them is correct. My point is that it's foolhardy and dangerous to assume that the one you believe is always correct. Keep an open mind and some healthy skepticism, even (or especially) about the things that you really, really want to be true.

Finally, and maybe most importantly, there are many ways of being. Many ways of living. Many ways to approach life, and (are you ready for the hard part) your way is not absolutely the one correct way to live. Your choices are not the only good choices. Your focus is not the one true focus that will reveal the light of truth to all. No, it's not.

You're passionate about politics and social justice. Someone else desperately wants to have kids and be a great parent. Their focus isn't misplaced. (Really. Someone has to produce the next generation of revolutionaries.) It's also okay if people want to spend their time partying, or hanging on every move Lady Gaga makes, or watching sports (hey!), or shopping or working on their car or going to school or trying to make Captain in the Air Force. You may think they're silly, or wasting their lives, or that they don't understand what's important.

Really, your way is not the only valid choice, and thinking less of people because their focus takes them in a different direction lessens you. It diminishes you, and I promise you it'll take some time to come back from that.

So. Believe in what you're doing. Be passionate. Sustain the effort. Persevere, and try to convince the rest of the world to help you do it. But keep in mind that you're living in a complex world. Embrace it, above and beyond everything else you do.

Done being pompous now. Think I'll move on to irritatingly cheerful.

Get crackin', woman!

The Dallas Stars have their first preseason home game this week. (Incidentally, the last Texas Rangers game we'll be going to this season is the following day. Two sports. My two favorite sports. Two days in a row. Woo-hoo!!!) I picked out the top (fingertip part) of the team-color mittens I knitted last year in order to rework them (the finger part was too long). I also started some brief, cuff-less glove liners out of Knit Pick's Aloft Super Kid Mohair Yarn, waay back last spring. I also decided, after consulting with my game partner (aka husband), that my lap blanket made of that cute hockey-stick-and-puck patterned fleece really ought to be big enough for two.

None of these are finished. The game is in four days.

So…I'm going to go knit like a crazy woman until it's time to start dinner. After the knitting's done, I'll cut a new lap blanket and try to serge around the edges (for some reason, my 25-year-old overlock machine is having some technical difficulties). Then reassemble the hockey game bag (as opposed to the baseball game bag) and get. ready. for. hockey. season. And, okay, then freeze the bottles of water we'll take in the little cooler on Friday. It's odd going from a sport where we have to take stuff to stay cool to a sport where we have to take stuff to stay warm.

But, really, I'm not complaining. I freakin' can't wait.

Is it getting close to autumn?

I don't know why, exactly, but I'm feeling more and more like summer is about to be over.

That's kind of ridiculous, considering the highs in the middle of this week in DFW will be in the 105° range. It obviously doesn't have much to do with the weather, though — for the record — let me just state that I'll take 105° over 110° any day. A high today of only 101° makes for kind of a refreshing break, to tell you the truth.

I realize there are places in the world where August really is the end of summer. July is the hottest month in a number of locales, and things start to cool down in August. However, I've never lived in those places, and the idea that August is cooler than anything at all is a completely foreign notion for me.

Maybe it feels like cool weather is coming because I went to San Antonio this past weekend, and we talked about the upcoming Fall Birthday Bash. It's our annual group birthday party, five family-and-close-friends birthdays between 8/31 and 9/18, get together every year, blahdy blah. And since it takes place in the fall (duh), it's around the time that school's starting, days are getting shorter, the weather is beginning to get a little cooler (or at least less blazing hot). So maybe that's why. Making plans for the Birthday Bash in just a few weeks is getting me in the frame of mind for fall.

Or it might be that, for once, I'm actually thinking ahead and on track to be ready for winter. I've got plans for shelters for the feral cats, instead of bumbling around in the freezing cold trying to kludge together something shortly after they needed to start using it. I'm getting estimates from plumbers for switching out our regular outdoor faucets for freeze-proof ones. (Yes, children, it's true. In cold climates they don't have to put Styrofoam covers over their garden faucets in the winter. True Minnesotans, for example, don't even know that some of us tromp around the house a few nights each year after watching the late news, jamming plastic bags and cereal boxes over our faucets. They'd probably be surprised.)

Maybe it's because it's hurricane season, and the Texas Gulf coast is usually a pretty primo target.

In any case, I have faith that the Earth is still moving through space, and the weather will eventually get cooler.

Really.

Sta-ressss!!

As in too much. Too, too much. I'm certainly creating some of it in my own mind (does anyone else do that?), but there are also external factors that are undeniably stressful.

Sooo…I think I'm going to grab some knitting and focus on it really, really hard. For you non-knitters, knitting is actually a fairly Zen thing, as long as it's not too difficult. What I have in mind won't be.

Time to relax…

Peace out, I believe is what the kids say.

What am I doing?

So what would you guess I'm doing right now?

1. Reading about the Dallas Stars, post-draft, new coaching staff & salary cap.
2. Reading a great Lifehacker article about spending money. 
3. Reading a great Lifehacker article about Facebook notifications.
4. Reading a great Lifehacker article about an app that reminds you to take a break, refocus (literally) and stand up occasionally while working at a computer.
5. Reading a great Lifehacker article about Foxfire (my browser of choice) and memory problems.
6. Wasting time with Lifehacker.
7. Learning interesting new things, including several that I don't absolutely need to know about right this minute.
8. Looking at a photo of the cutest little broccoli tree house.
9. Putting off starting the last few days of work on that book.

Right! [sigh] All of the above.

Hey! And look — now you're doing it, too!

30-second sarcasm break

"The Brink literally grabs the reader by the throat and doesn't let go until the final page." - film producer Don Phillips.
      "Film producer Don Phillips needs to look up the word literally." - Me.

A few days ago, I walked into Wildwood Grill by myself and the hostess asked if I was meeting "another couple." Huh? Granted, I'm large, but it should still be fairly obvious that I am one continuous person, not two smaller, identically-dressed people standing very close together. For one thing, I only have one head.

Thank you!

A Hockey Post: What Does the NHL Really Hate?

If you're a hockey fan, you know that the NHL has been all up in arms the last year or so about certain hits. More and more players are suffering serious injuries, especially concussions. The final straw, apparently, came this past season when St. Sid was knocked out of the Penguins' lineup for several months by a concussion. The league had been dithering about bad hits for a while, but obviously the situation could no longer be tolerated and they really started cracking down.


There are a few things that they get upset about:

• Blindside hits (where the player doesn't see it coming and has no chance to protect himself)

• Late hits (well after the target has passed the puck along to another player)

• Hits targeting the head (where, for example, the elbow comes up)

• Hits where the offender's skates leave the ice (i.e., they jump into it to give it more oomph).

Now take a look at Aaron Rome and Nathan Horton, in Game 3 of the Stanley Cup Finals last night. The one lying unconscious on the ice is Horton:

Guess how much trouble Rome is in.

June is for dabbling

Some people change things up in the summer because their schedules change. Teachers, for example, or the millions of households with children. They sleep late, do more things just for fun, have a more flexible schedule than during the school year. Since I'm not a teacher and don't have kids, that doesn't really apply to me. We go to baseball games instead of hockey. I lower the living room shades in the morning to keep out the heat. I don't have to take note of the time as I pull out of my driveway into the school zone. Other than that, there's not really much difference.

But this year I had an idea: I could change my schedule, like all those summer people do. I could let my time flow in a more fluid, less rigid way. I could dabble.

I do realize that saying I'm going to make my schedule more flexible is kind of a joke to most people. I've been self employed since 1992 and, apart from a few regular meetings, I pretty much decide what to do and when. (That includes housework, except for cooking dinner, which is constrained by needing to be ready at about dinnertime, and laundry, the priority of which is pretty much determined by one of us running out of underwear.) But the thing is, I tend to think of work, and cleaning, and hobbies, and many of the things that fill my time, in big chunks. I'll schedule a whole day or week to work on one project and nothing else. I'll start reading a novel whenever I have enough free time to finish the whole thing. And I'm embarrassed to admit that I put off chores, like mending, for example, because I somehow can't stop and take five minutes to do it right then. I'll put all the mending in one place and then, I think grandly, I'll set aside a few hours and get it all done.

I'm not just talking about the things I procrastinate on, but also about the things I regularly accomplish. These things take up big blocks on my calendar, and therefore become big and burdensome in my mind. Somewhere along the line I developed this ant mentality (that's ant as opposed to grasshopper) that forces me to keep at things. Flitting from task to task is bad; stay focused, keep your nose to the grindstone, slow and steady wins the race. To do otherwise is…well, it's just wrong.

But last week, on May 30th, to be exact, it occurred to me that what I longed to do that day was dabble. I wanted to spend my time at different things, not one thing, perhaps even in rapid succession. Work at my desk for a hour or two, then go vacuum. Flip through one magazine, then send some emails and make some appointments. Reconcile one bank statement, then go repair a torn pocket (there's that mending again).

I'm not talking about goofing off. This dabbling will involve all the things I should be getting done. It's not that I won't be working, or won't be working hard. I'll just be doing it grasshopper-style, carefree and breezy, even the stuff I take very seriously.

Maybe I'm reacting to trying to be over-organized. Whatever. In any case, June is for dabbling. And we'll see how it goes after that.

And how's your summer shaping up?

On this day in history…

• Johnny Weissmuller was born. (He was Tarzan.)
• So were Dana Carvey, Stacy Keach, Jerry Mathers, Sally Kellerman & the Marquis de Sade. (Well, everybody has a birthday, after all.)
• Queen Elizabeth II was crowned.
• Timothy McVeigh was found guilty of the 1995 Oklahoma City bombing that killed 168.
• Lou Gehrig died. So did Leslie Howard (Ashley Wilkes in Gone With the Wind).
• The Tiananmen Square protest happened. (I've been to Tiananmen Square. It's huge, the largest city square in the world—444,000 square meters. And there's that big honkin' portrait of Mao at the gate to the Forbidden City.)

My admirable father-in-law, Joe, was born on June 1st, which means his birthday was yesterday. Which means we really should have called him last night. Oops. And my ex-step-niece, the also admirable Rebekah, has a birthday tomorrow. So, really, I'm not sure why I even brought it up today.

The month is bringing some changes for me, personally, though. I'm trying out a different approach. More about that later. (Yeah, I know, I keep saying that. But I'm in SUP [Specific Use Permit] hell right now, and I have to go stand in front of a few desks today to get applications, forms, letters and other paperwork done so it can go before the Planning & Zoning Board at their next meeting. Yawn? You have no idea.)

It'll get better. Promise!

Memorial Day

It would take someone much more eloquent than me to properly express the thanks that we, as a nation, owe to everyone who serves and has served. So, because I don't think I can say it all, I'll just say…thanks.

Thanks to all of you who went through the tough training, and all you who devoted yourselves to training them so they could stay alive to come home. Grateful remembrance for those who didn't survive, but died on the messy site of some battle, or in the rubble of some distant city with a name we always mispronounce. Thanks to those those who managed logistics, kept communications going, flew support….

Thank you Tom, Bob, Buddy, Gary and Steve; thank you Paul, Curtis, David and Ric. Thank you all the other guys I went to college with who were just back from Vietnam. And thanks to that group of men I worked with at USAA, twenty years afterwards. I remember your stories, and the glimpses we got of what you had been through. Thank you.

Thank you Chuck. Thanks for telling me so matter-of-factly, all those decades later, about how things were, about the soldiers you saw die, sometimes in a group, and what you did to keep your guys as safe as you could. Thanks for serving so well, and I hope you weren't offended by my dark thoughts at your funeral, about someone in charge deciding it was okay for you to be exposed to the Agent Orange that eventually killed you.

Thanks to my late father and my father-in-law, who served in WWII. Thank you Wendell, Richard and Milton. Thanks for your devotion to accomplishing your mission, doing your job excellently, making the difference. Maybe someday I'll relate some of the stories you tell.

Thank you, Eva! During the first Gulf War, I worried about you and wore a yellow ribbon tied on my name badge. (If you recall, I handed you tiny scissors and you cut it off after you came home.) Thank you for the critical work you did…and also for the mental picture (at once amusing and very frightening) of you working under a table when there was incoming fire.

I've never really quite understood the difference between Veteran's Day and Memorial Day (and that's a different post), but I've decided it might be this: Memorial Day should include those who also stood and waited. Their sacrifices weren't as likely to involve blood, but were still pretty costly. They didn't see their dads, their husbands, wives, sons or daughters for long periods. They lived with the constant fear of getting official notification that the worst had happened. They moved, a lot. They were patient and understanding, through their frustration and longing. And they also deserve thanks today. So…thank you, Nancy, Richard, Greg & Tim; thank you, Cindy, Barbara, Linda, Steve and Milt. Thank you, Mark; thanks, Jean. Thank you Ann, Yolanda and the boys.

Thanks to everyone whose name I've forgotten to mention, and everyone I haven't personally known and yet would still like to thank personally. Your contribution is beyond measure, and we truly are grateful.

Happy Memorial Day, everybody.

Complaints

I hate it when people complain! My friend Joe used to say that, until one of his young sons pointed out that statement itself is a complaint. I happen to agree with Joe, but here I go, blissfully ignoring that fact. I don't mean to complain and all*, but…

• I really hate website pages with black (or otherwise very dark) backgrounds. They bother my (apparently) aging eyes. I follow a couple of blogs that use black backgrounds, and I try to skim over them very, very quickly. If at all.

• Firefox is once again having problems with Google-related websites (yes, blogger/blogspot is owned by Google). The top of the page for this blog is supposed to look like this:

but instead looks like this:

which means it's a challenge to log in. I like the user interface of Firefox, and the fact that it's kept pretty current, but it really doesn't play well with Google or any sites having anything to do with Google. It's greatly annoying me, and possibly forcing me to the Safari side.

• We have too. much. stuff. Still, even with everything as tidy as we could get it in preparation for Erik** and Hessu's*** visit. I'm digging out the things that I ended up just sticking away somewhere out of sight before they came. (Okay, there wasn't much of that, but there was some.) I just opened a drawer in the breakfast area and found a bunch of chargers for mobile phones that I'm pretty sure we haven't used in five years. Oy.

• Erik and Hessu went home. I liked having the company! Granted, it was a little odd those last couple of days. They were supposed to leave Tuesday morning, but ended up leaving late Thursday afternoon. Because of the weather in the U.S., and the volcanic ash from Iceland, flights were canceled and airports were closed, and they kept being bumped back another day, and another day, and another day. When they finally left, I told them (very sincerely) that I hoped they would come back soon — but not that same day.

• All day I haven't been able to decide whether today is a day to get things done or relax. I've been alternating being industrious and taking geography quizzes. (FYI, I love knowing where places are, and I'm willing to waste a lot of time to be sure that I do.) It's been an oddly busy/casual, productive/relaxing day.

Okay, done with complaining for the moment. Back to geography quizzes.

You have a great Memorial Day weekend!


*That's a line from a song from the musical Working, a play from the '70s you've never heard of, but which was directed by Steven Schwartz and featured Patti LuPone, Joe Mantegna, and Lynne Thigpen, among others. You can buy the soundtrack from amazon.com for only $200. I have a copy of it around here somewhere, and I think it's going on eBay pretty darn quickly.

**Those links won't work for you if you're not on Facebook. But, really, sign up. It's fun!

***While you're at it, check out the video Hessu took during the bad weather that happened while they were here. Being European, they haven't much experience with tornadic activity. In fact, as Erik pointed out to me, Finland is kind of uber-safe, natural disaster-wise. No seismic activity, no tornadoes, protected from tsunamis, no hurricanes. Granted, there's the occasional avalanche in the far north (Hi, Saariselkä!), and maybe a flash flood or two, but nothing widespread or anything. We made them sit in a closet for a while during the tornado warning. It was a new experience for them.****

****In case I haven't mentioned it before, I love Finland. Finns, as a group, are admirable and likeable people, and there are many, many things about their culture that I enjoy and respect. And despite what you may have heard on Conan O'Brien, it's a great place.

Quick ham update (and not a single Rapture reference)

The Dayton Cowboys survived Hamvention. I don't know how wild and crazy they got, but a sewer line did break, flooding part of the flea market. I'm not pointing any fingers, you understand.

They'll be at the Air Force Museum tomorrow morning, then start back to DFW. I expect some stories. Rich emailed that he thought about buying me a "Retro Game Console," aka an old quarter slot machine. I answered that it wouldn't be a bad saving system. I could play the slot(s) all I wanted and get to keep all the money. I'm not sure it would do much for my productivity, though, and that tends to be just a little bit marginal as it is now.

Actual slot machine that could soon be in my living room.
or
My new method of saving (75¢ at a time).

I'm going to go lie on the sofa, sip a cool drink and read. I wanted to do that earlier, but we were out of Diet Coke (my cool drink of choice), so I had to go get some. I could have gone to a grocery store, but it's Saturday and I would've had to wait in line. If I have to have the soda all drunk up by 6:00, I just don't have that kind of time. I went to the Exxon station instead. Plenty of sipping time left! (Okay, one Rapture reference.)

The Dayton Cowboys hit the road

I have a couple of meaningful and, you know, deep posts I've started writing, but it's going to be a few days before I can finish them. I've been and will be pretty busy these couple of days.

Besides my on-going job of volunteering for the Chamber, I've had extra cleaning and organizing to get done. Erik and Hessu will be getting here tomorrow evening, then the Dayton Cowboys© will be leaving at o-dark-thirty Wednesday morning.

Dayton, Ohio, is the site of Hamvention, the goal of a yearly ham radio operators' pilgrimage. Hamecca, if you will. It's the big annual amateur (ham) radio event. Erik and Hessu are a couple of Finns who are going to it. You see, Rich is a ham radio operator (since he was, I think, 12 years old). When he was working for Nokia and traveling to Finland six or eight times a year, he made friends with a bunch of Finnish hams. He visited them when he traveled there, they'd do radio stuff together, and a few of them would come here for a few weeks every year (usually timing it so they could be here for Hamvention). They stayed with us. Erik and Matti were the ones who came most often, and I simply loved having them visit. They were perfect house guests, charming, interesting, and low maintenance, and I was very sorry when they stopped making their annual treks. (Matti got a new, very demanding job. Erik got married and had kids. You know how it goes.) Well, this year Matti won't make it, but Erik's girls are older now, and he'll be here tomorrow! Hessu, whom I've never met, is coming as well, and I'm sure I'll like him. Finns tend to be a likeable bunch, as a rule.

Texas and Finnish flags
fly at Hamvention in '03
(That's Jouni, Erik & Matti.)

All these guys who make this trip, in years past, used to get a little bit…well, wild is the wrong word. Silly isn't the right word, either. But they're both in the ballpark. They would…well, okay, here's an example. One of them bought a radar gun at Hamvention (no, there was no actual reason for it, he just bought it), and they spent the two-day drive back playing Trolling For Tail Lights. That is, they'd be cruising down the highway, point the radar gun forward, pull the trigger, and see how many cars would hit the brakes to get back under the speed limit. See? Not wild, or silly, exactly, but something not too far off.

When they first started planning their trip, I asked Erik if he thought they'd be more sedate now, since they're all older, or if they'd be like a bunch of dogs off their chains because it's been so long. He speculated that it would be both. I have a feeling he's right. We'll see, though I suppose it may take a while for me to hear the details of some of what they do.

I'm calling them the Dayton Cowboys, BTW, because a road trip across the U.S. has a little bit of mystique to it and, well, they're coming to Texas, after all. Plus I thought flying fifteen hours just to drive for two days deserved some kind of special recognition. And that's just the name that occurred to me as I put it on my calendar for Tuesday: "Dayton Cowboys hit the road."

So Rich and I have both been tidying up for the guys' visit (it's amazing how much stuff accumulates in the corners and on every horizontal surface). They'll only be spending the night, then leaving very early on Wednesday morning. But we're doing some cleaning and organizing that should have been done long ago, and trying to get it done before they get here.

Meaningful posts later, after the guys are on their way. For now, back to shoveling.

Rain vs. bladder

I was on my way to deliver a print job a little while ago when it started pouring down rain. Since it seemed like hauling cardboard boxes of (expensively printed) paper out of my trunk in the middle of a deluge might not be the best idea ever, and since I was very near Southlake Town Square, I zipped into one of the parking garages to wait it out.

I read my email. I looked at Facebook. I read through all the tweets in both my personal and business Twitter accounts. Still pouring.

My attention was flagging a little, but the threat of several hundred bucks' worth of envelopes turning to pulp, or — worse — hail damage to my new(ish) car, kept me stationary. (Stationery. Envelopes. Har!)

After a while, though, I started wondering if it were the iced tea and water I had had with lunch, or the coffee I had afterwards that I was beginning to regret. Eventually I began having second thoughts about the whole bunch of them, plus all other beverages, so I took my chances with the rain.

There's a joke here about being wet, raining, pouring, outside and inside. I'll leave that up to you.

A Friday kind of randomness

A few unrelated notes:

I love ice cream sandwiches. They're not included in any diet I've even considered, except on the free day of the 4-Hour Body, which is actually the one I'm supposed to be following except that today isn't my free day and guess why I felt moved to talk about ice cream sandwiches in the first place.

This weekend is Art in the Square at Southlake Town Square. It's a fine event, but getting to the library this morning for the Book Connection was just a little slice of hell. If I had realized, I would have canceled. And while we're talking about it, can someone tell me why they scheduled AITS on the same weekend as the Main Street Arts Festival? Was there reasoning behind that or was it just bad timing?

Our CPA called twice today, with not-great and great news. Not great: our return won't be ready to sign until Monday. You know, the very last day it can be filed. Rich and I will just plan on making a trip over there first thing to take care of it. The great news: our return still has to go through review, but preliminarily, tentatively, as of this point it looks like we're getting a substantial refund. Whew! This was our first year of nothing but self-employment income and, therefore, our first year of estimated tax payments. I was only hoping that we wouldn't have to pay more than we actually have. So…whew!

It's Friday! (And I can't stop hearing Rebecca Black in my head.)

I've got a light day of work. Shall I spend the rest of the afternoon…

Working on the guest room closet?
Working on a plan and goals for the new direction I want to take my business?
Reading some of the ton-and-a-half of stuff I have stacked up to go through?
Sewing? (That counts as part of the above closet, since it gets rid of fabric.)
Working on financial stuff (Quickbooks, balancing statements, etc.)?

I'll try to hold off on knitting, since that only counts as entertainment and, well, it is still a weekday.

Whatever else goes on, there's going to be laundry in the background. Or tomorrow will be Commando.

And, finally, a quote from the fabulous Crazy Aunt Purl, who always entertains and often inspires me. She's talking about reducing her volume of stuff, a subject always pertinent to my situation (and even more so as I'm facing that guest bedroom closet):

"This is how I am going to do it, not with grand, impulsive decisions made from fear but with decisions made from accurate, honest thinking. Will I need two saws? Two fondue pots? If I need one in an emergency, because Lord knows there are probably both fondue and sawing emergencies in my future, would I be able to procure a replacement in a ten-hour window? If the answer is yes, I will let go of the less enjoyed item. The answer today is yes. DONE.

"Let's be clear I'm not paring down because I feel bereft. I am paring down voluntarily because I don't think I can endure another moment of heavy living.

"Holding on and hoarding is my fear-life. Letting go is my hope-life. I am using this time to put the Universe on notice. I am letting go of all the crap and I am opening up to the goodness ahead. Universe, are you listening?"

She also adds:

"Wow, I got a streak of self help in me a mile wide. I'm like a platitude on CRACK."

I'm right there with ya, sister.

I hope your weekend is the best!

No comment*

Really, don't say that!

*Except to say that I actually have no right at all to use these images. As soon as anyone connected with the Dallas Stars (Razor's photo) or Defending Big D (the puck's photo) says anything, I'll take it down. Or as soon as I start making money off of it, I mean, the very second that happens.

Just for the hockey fans

Or Daryl "Razor" Reaugh fans. (Yeah, the rest of you won't care.)

Razor thinks it's silly that Stars fans are superstitious. Stars goalie Kari Lehtonen was having a great season, but until just a few games ago he didn't have a shut out as a Dallas Star. Every time the opposing team hadn't scored and the third period started drawing to a close, Razor would comment (on the radio & in-arena broadcast), "Maybe Kari will finally get his shut out," or "It looks like we're headed for a shut out." Then the other team would score, and the fans would be pissed at Razor.

His point, reasonably enough, was that preventing the other team from scoring, or not, has more to do with the guys on the ice and how they're playing than with him saying the forbidden words, "shut out."

Okay, sure. I acknowledge the truth of that. But let me point out a couple of things.

First, sports fans are the most superstitious human beings on the face of the planet. Pay attention, Razor: There's something going on on the ice (or field or court or whatever), about which we care a great deal. We have no actual control over it, which is not a good feeling. So we start to notice things….When we're standing up, our team scores; when we sit down, they miss. When we have our caps turned backwards, they play well; when we turn them around, they don't. When we have gloves on, or our legs are crossed, or we wear blue socks, or we clap three times, it somehow seems to help them. And what kind of fans would we be if we didn't try to help our guys? So we wear gloves to clap three times as we sit in our blue socks with our legs crossed. Silly? Okay. Understandable? You bet.

Secondly, the Stars were doing great! I mean, beyond anyone's wildest dreams, they were playing so well and winning so much. They were #1 in their Division for 74 days. 74 days! Then on January 19th, you said, "For the Stars to fall out of the top eight over the final 34 games would be improbable to damn near impossible." And on January 27th, you said they had, "Momentum that I doubt can be halted…."

Well, as of now they're out of the playoffs and lately they just can't win a game, no matter how hard or well they play.

Oh, sure, I realize, we all realize, that you're not actually to blame. But, again, it's hard for even rational fans to not take pause at that. So I'm going to suggest something. Something that will make all those superstitious fans feel better: Let's Do Something To Razor. In effigy, of course; let's not get crazy here.

If you're not familiar with the word 'effigy,' look it up. I'm certainly not suggesting anyone do anything to Daryl Reaugh himself (please, please don't), but if we could come up with an inanimate substitute, that might be worth a try. Maybe we could reverse the bad mojo (yes, I do know how crazy that sounds) by hanging it, or burning it, or just pummeling it with pucks (I've got one with a Tobias Stephan autograph I'll donate to the cause).

I mean, if there's nothing to it, well…what could it hurt? (Tell your friends!)

And in conclusion…

Part 2:

Okay, so it appeared that something terrible was going on in my mouth, and I didn't even know it. My friendly dental hygienist was pretty alarmed, and recommended taking some kind of immediate action. Unfortunately, the action she recommended added up to about $1400 of uninsured dental treatment. Perio therapy, including anesthesia and packing with antibiotics. Plus the bacterial ID test, to find out for sure which antibiotics to use.

$1400. Seriously. Not a filling or crown or any other hardware involved, and still $1400.

It's not that we absolutely don't have the money, and we could pay for it if necessary. And I didn't want to just refuse treatment offhand. The sample DNA results she showed me indicated what type of bacteria, including exactly how transmissible they are. Since Rich and I share a Diet Coke at Stars games and have been known to swap saliva in other ways, too, this was a big red flag. But $1400…I wanted to give it some thought.

And while I was thinking, it occurred to me that this had happened pretty darn suddenly. Why, I asked myself, did it happen? How could it have happened? What changed? I'll admit, I had been a little lackadaisical about flossing for a few days prior to my appointment, but that wouldn't account for such a dramatic change. And surely I would know it if I had been exposed to some new pathogen, right?

Then I thought about Atkins, and the crummy way I had only semi-followed it.

It turned out to be not so far fetched. Googling 'Atkins' and 'perio pockets' got enough hits to make me think there was something to it. Plus there was…well, my hair. It grew. I swear to God, my hair grew at least an inch in the month that included our time on Atkins. All that protein obviously had an effect on me. If it affected my hair, maybe it also affected my gums. Maybe that protein overdose had allowed some normal flora to, I don't know, run rampant or something. So I thought that if I started eating a more balanced diet (bye-bye, Atkins; don't trip over the salad greens on your way out), maybe my gums would respond and the perio pockets would shrink. Before we spent $1400, I decided to give it a try. And, you know, flossing and junk, too. Again, time passed.

Meanwhile, I began to notice an inordinate number of single-use eye drop containers all over the house. They're Optive single-use containers, to be specific, the only eye drop approved for both sensitive eyes (which I have in spades) and contact lens rewetting. Yeah, not that you cared, and it doesn't really have anything to do with our story. Except that the "single-use" containers actually hold about ten drops, so I'll twist off the top of one of them, squeeze a drop into each eye, then tuck the little container back behind something. I don't mind using the drops from an open container a couple of hours later, as long as the tip hasn't touched anything. In the master bathroom, I carefully place it  on the counter behind my makeup mirror.

Well, a couple of weeks ago, I started finding those single-use containers all over the house. They became cat toys and dog chews. The first one, I assumed I had tossed it at the trash can and missed, and one of the animals had found it. But then there was at least one new one every day. And on top of that, I'd go to use the already-opened one I had left, and discover I had apparently thrown it away and not remembered….

Yeah. It took me an embarrassing length of time to make the connection. Rocky, the cat, likes to walk around on the bathroom counter, especially when I'm in the bathroom. It occurred to me that perhaps he likes to walk around on the counter when I'm not in the bathroom, too. He finds the eye drop containers, starts to bat it around, and that's that. So I started putting the open ones inside the medicine cabinet so he can't get to them. Problem solved.

More time passed. I'm still eating more than just protein, flossing like there's nothing but tomorrows and knowing, just knowing, that I'm taking care of the perio problem. I mean, what else could be causing it, right?

Take another look at that photo. Right beside the eyedrop container, you'll notice a toothbrush holder. (Both those toothbrushes are mine. Following our dentist's suggestion, we each have two toothbrushes, one for morning and one for night. Most oral bacteria die within 24 hours, so that gives us a clean, germ-free toothbrush each time.) (See, I wasn't kidding when I said I take care of my teeth.)

Did it occur to me that Rocky could possibly be messing with more than just the eyedrops? Did it even cross my mind? No, it didn't. Until I was brushing my teeth one morning and noticed the back of my toothbrush seemed oddly rough. On examination, it had teethmarks in it. And not from my teeth. He had been chewing on it.

I had been sharing my toothbrush with my cat.

Fortunately, a cat who just had his own teeth cleaned about a month ago, or who knows what I would have ended up catching. From the time that I looked at my toothbrush and it registered what those marks were to the time that I had an appointment to have the bacterial DNA test done was, maybe, ten minutes.

What the counter looks like now

I'm not sure if there's actually any point to this long, long explanation, besides that I'm occasionally kind of a dope, but there are four truths that became evident:

1. Mis-applying Atkins may or may not be bad for your gingiva. I thought I knew, but I don't.
2. Believe your dental hygienist when she tells you there's something going on.
3. Cats have peripheral vision and occasionally act on it.
4. As surely as I know what happens in my mouth, I can't say the same about my cat's.

 Lesson learned. Seriously.

A few seemingly random things and how they led to bacterial DNA testing

Part 1:

So Rich and I started Atkins at the beginning of the month. For those of you who haven't had the pleasure, Atkins is a very low carbohydrate diet that involves massive amounts of cooking and food preparation. And salads. Lots and lots and lots of salads.

I wasn't good at it.

First of all, it really reminded me of those bizarre diets we used to hear about years ago, where people would eat nothing but grapefruit or cabbage or watermelon or something (though it was never, like, French fries or ice cream). You'd eat the same thing meal after meal, day after day, for as long as you could stand it. And with Atkins it's — you guessed it — salad.

Now, I like salad as well as the next person, really I do. But I think expecting someone to eat the same food two meals a day, every day for the foreseeable future is a little excessive. Or unrealistic. Or just tiresome. Plus there's the minor fact that it doesn't take me too terribly long to burn out on salads anyway.* I already knew that. Rich is perfectly satisfied with a salad at dinner every night. I'll go for a few months making them for both of us. Then I'll realize I can't face eating another one, eliminate mine and spend a few months making one for him every night. Then, finally, I'll realize I can no longer even face making them every day, and that's that for a while.

Anyway, I did try Atkins, and did great at breakfast. But then lunchtime rolled around and, even when I did feel like eating it, that salad somehow didn't just magically appear. And when things get busy, I want to be able to leave my desk, make a quick pass through the kitchen and grab something, then get back to work. So salad made the cut for about three days. After that…not so much. Low carb cheese is allowed on Atkins, and I had bought a giant pack of Muenster slices (which only has 1 gram of carbs per slice, just FYI) at Costco, so I'd grab a slice of that, maybe pick up a piece of deli meat if it was handy, and call that good. I'd have sandwich fillings. A bread-less, condiment-less sandwich. And if you're thinking that's not the best, soundest nutrition in the world, you're not wrong. Duh.

So I was eating way too much protein, and not enough of anything else. Times passed. Then I went to the dentist for my regular cleaning.

FYI, not that you asked, but I take rather good care of my teeth. I went through years as a late-teenager and early twenty-something being very scared of dentists, "forgetting" appointments and generally letting my teeth decay (literally). Once I got past that (and thank you Dr. Richard Lazor in San Antonio for helping me overcome my fear), I started being really conscientious about brushing and flossing. I never, ever have much in the way of calculus (tartar) build up. I'm just good that way.

So I went to my appointment, not expecting anything unusual. And, as always, I didn't have much build up. But I had deep, bleeding perio pockets. When it comes to gingival health, a measurement of 3 or less is normal. The checkup before this I had mostly twos with a couple of threes. This time I had a lot of fours, a few fives and a couple of sixes. Big, big difference. My friendly and skilled hygienist was concerned. She pointed out that pockets like that were almost always accompanied by lots of calculus, lots of build up. These weren't. That made her concerned that there was some kind of virulent pathogen (read: bad germs) at work. She told me about a test that would identify whatever bacteria I had in my mouth. It involved taking a saliva sample, sending it to a lab, then getting back the name and classification of my particular, personal flora. It also involved $200, and I don't have dental insurance right now.

To be continued.

*In the interest of full disclosure and presenting a balanced picture, it also doesn't take much chocolate to be plenty for me.

Email aggravation

I have no fewer than 27 email filters that run automatically, yet I still can't keep all the spam deleted. For the record, spammers, I don't want a psychic reading (and it kind of seems like you should know that). I'm not interested in Lasik, nor in growing blueberries, giant or otherwise. I don't want to be a medical coder, and 'Illustrated Bible' sounds exactly like a comic book to me. I'm not looking for a date, even if they are singles over 45. I'm not into Tarot, I don't need a credit check, and you can put me in your Who's Who if you'd like, but I'm not going to pay for a copy. I don't need mold remediation, I don't want a ceramic knife, and I seriously doubt I've got GI benefits waiting since I was never a GI. I've already got auto insurance, thanks, as required by my state's law, and for goodness sake, just how many bras do you people think I need? Maybe one of those psychics could answer me that!

Carbs & Mental Health, or The Next Time You See Me I May Be Wigged Out

Rich and I are going on Atkins for a month, starting tomorrow. We're doing this because we have to do something, and Atkins sounds like a plan we could actually live with, if we decide to. I had always thought Atkins was kind of, you know, out there, with the no carbs and all that protein and fat and all. But Rich's brother has real results with it and, doing some research, I discovered that it's actually not high protein and fat after all. And not no carbs, just low carbs.
Pretty darn low carbs, in fact, at least to start with. The first two weeks, the Induction phase (their term), allows no sugar, no grains, no starchy vegetables and 20 grams of carbs (from other sources) a day. They also say that for the first week or so, giving up high carb comfort foods "may leave you feeling emotionally bereft." Oh, good.

I'm not sure what the actual reason for that would be, but I'm assuming it's caused by changes in brain chemistry when you turn off the carb fountain. I've had some sad experience at brain chemistry changes. Or, actually, recovering from them, I guess. I quit smoking in January, 1998, and a rollicking good time it was, too! I was well and truly addicted to nicotine. If you ever have a free hour, look up 'nicotine addition.' When you get into the technical explanation of what's happening, you'll discover that nicotine causes the very same changes in brain chemistry as opiates. Only with much, much more frequent stimulation. (In my case, four packs a day, 20 cigs per pack, however many puffs per cig. That's a lot of endogenous opioid activity and dopamine pathways. Trust me.) Quitting was…hard. And tearful. And all-around crazy, for a few weeks. (After that, it was just unpleasant for a really long time, and I do celebrate every January 20th, let me tell you!) I'm sure, just sure, it won't be as bad as quitting smoking. As much as I love carbs—wallowing in potatoes, baking fragrant bread, stirring up the perfect gravy, carefully creating the lavish dessert—it just can't be as bad. Right?

Okay. Well. Anyway…Rich doesn't have quite the same yen for carbs as I do, but it's not going to be a romp in the park for him, either. If you happen to have stock in Nestle's Tollhouse Cookie Ice Cream Sandwiches, dump it. It's about to take a plunge.

So, anyway, I'll be working hard the next few days, writing copy for a few websites, and we'll see just how dark my writing gets. Depending on how the neurotransmitters flow, I may very well imply that you should save for retirement or sell your real estate because we're all doomed, just doomed, and doing anything is pointless. With any luck, it won't take long to get out of the bereft stage into the increased-energy-and-sense-of-well-being that's supposed to happen next.

Two more things, real quick:

1. First, in case you thought I wasn't going to talk about Dallas Stars hockey, Brad Richards was NOT traded today. Woo-hoo!

2. Secondly, we've been trying to get rid of all the loose carbs flapping around the house. We finished up the leftover lasagna, and had strawberry shortcake to get rid of the strawberries and the ice cream and whatnot. This is Rich's: 

In the interest of remaining married, I'm obliged to point out that Rich was trying to use up all the whipped cream. But…yeah. We might be doing this Atkins thing just in time.

We'll see how it goes. Now I have to go drink that last beer, and get it out of the house by tomorrow. Yes, have to!

Bad news for inflatable Tony fans

That's fans of inflatable Tonys, not Tony fans who are inflatable. My local Albertson's (now at Up to 90% Off All Merchandise, and what a cheery place it is, too) is all out of the 10-foot inflatable Tony Romos. I asked, and they said some guy came in and bought all the Tony Romo and Jason Witten merchandise, including all the extra large air-filled Tonys.

Well, what are we supposed to do now?

After the Ball Is Over, so to speak

Post Superbowl note: Rich spent most of his time at Cowboy Stadium, and almost all of the actual game, stationed on the Green Bay sideline, at the Green Bay 10 yard line. He did spend a little time in one of the tunnels, where he was almost run over by Jerry Jones. (Jones, not surprisingly under those circumstances, was taking large strides and assuming everyone and everything would simply get out of his way.) Usher passed by him on the sideline, texting while he walked to and from the stage (fortunately, he's got all his People to keep him from running into things…or to get the things out of his way — see Jerry Jones, above). Guy Fieri brushed up against him in a tunnel, which Rich didn't notice, but the fellow standing next to him was a Guy fan and did sort of a manly swoon. Michael Douglas was on the field a few feet away, and Jesse Jackson shook Rich's hand (not for any particular reason except that Jackson was working the crowd and Rich happened to be standing there). And he saw Michael Strahan from a distance (Strahan was in some VIP area).

I really, really wish Rich could have met Strahan. Not because he's particularly in awe of a football player (we're hockey fans, after all), but because at every Dallas Stars game they play the Michael Strahan/Donovan McNabb Dr. Pepper commercial on the JumboTron, and Rich laughs at it every single time. It's just one of those things that happens to tickle him, no matter how many times he's seen it. It would have been cool if they could have met, though I'm not sure how he would have explained why it was such a pleasure to meet Strahan without a rather unwieldy explanation.

He said, too, that the Black Eyed Peas' (who also trooped by him going on and off the stage) performance was very impressive, mostly because of the LEDs on the costumes (which tells you right there that Rich is, at heart, a technogeek).

One other, non-Superbowl note: Our local Albertson's is closing. Besides being very sad about it (I am), I'm joining in the feeding frenzy: they have everything on sale. This includes the contents of their in-store Dallas Cowboys shop. There are some items there that have to have been unearthed from a dark corner of some warehouse somewhere. They include back—way back—issues of the official Dallas Cowboys Star Magazine (they had plenty of copies of March '09 available today).

And they have these:

Yes, that's a ten-foot-tall inflatable Tony Romo. The price when I took the photo a few weeks ago was $39.99. It's now reduced to $29.99. First of all, can anyone tell me why they have this to sell? I mean, seriously, who bought them? For what purpose? What would you do with it? Secondly, and—really—this is the point: If you want to add to your collection of Very Large Inflatables of Sports Figures Who Never Should Have Gotten Involved With Jessica Simpson, you better act fast. At this price, they're not going to be around…oh, never mind!

It's Superbowl Sunday, and other facts

• It's 4pm on Superbowl Sunday and I've already had too much beer and nachos. Why, no, I'm not at Cowboy Stadium. I'm at home by myself. Why?

• Rich is at the Superbowl, working on the Game Day Frequency Coordination team. They're wearing all black (NFL-supplied shirts and jackets, their own pants) and red baseball caps with a big "GDC" on them. Rich showed me his Superbowl credentials, a badge on a chain that he has to wear around his neck. It has a star on it, and allows the GDC folks to go anywhere and everywhere. I kind of shivered a little. And I'm jealous, though I don't care which team wins (if the Cowboys aren't there, then…what. ever). But it's such a special event, with an atmosphere of excitement and celebration. Maybe he'll tell me about it, after his long workday is done. He had to be there at 7am, but left really, really early in case the roads were still icy.

• I'm recording the pre-game show because I actually think I might get a glimpse of him or one of our friends. Sometimes I'm just adorable.

• The dogs are finally back inside after spending most of this nice (relatively) warm, sunny day outside. FYI, letting your dogs spend hours and hours out in the fresh air and sunshine, vigilantly keeping watch for marauding squirrels, has about the same effect as knocking their little heads together. Except with more snoring.

• We have too much stuff. Specifically, I have too much stuff, a lot of it stored in the wreck of a closet in our guest bedroom. I've spent some time today working on cleaning it out and getting it organized. I'm not that good at organizing overstuffed closets. I tend to spend way too much time wringing my hands, trying to decide what to do.

• We have eight, count 'em, eight "spare" pillows in that closet. I don't know what I was thinking we should be prepared for. This is a good example of the kind of stuff I'm finding.

• Since I'm having trouble coming up with a closet plan, I believe I'll just go back to beer and nachos. That was working pretty well.

Happy Superbowl, everybody!