Mental Dustpan

They Might Be Giants (Boy)

2011-10-28T23:42:00.000-05:00

I first heard songs by They Might Be Giants when I was six years old, on an episode of Tiny Toon Adventures. It took me a little while to realize the songs weren't made specifically for the show, but were rather off of a legitimate album by a legitimate band. Therefore, TMBG is officially the first band I ever held a great affinity for.

I got the album "Flood" when I was a little tyke and was fascinated by the contents of the songs. Birdhouses in my soul? Someone singing a song about being dead? Minimum Wage? Particles and city name changes? What is this brilliance?

Now, twenty years later, I was finally seeing them in concert for the first time. My good friend alerted me to the event and because the ticket was affordable, I agreed to go. It's hard to go to a concert like TMBG and leave in a bad mood. The songs were all energetic and perky and filled with nostalgia for me.

I also happened to win a raffle in the lobby and scored some vouchers to any Milwaukee Admirals home game of my choice! Now it's time to don the Halloween costume and get my trick-or-treat on...

Skeet Skeet

2011-10-27T23:56:00.000-05:00

Tonight was a friend's karaoke birthday party. We all picked rap songs that we awkward white kids could perform. This song is a staple karaoke tune for the guy I'm seeing.

I chose this gem by the Bloodhound Gang because I knew all the words:

Austin, Day Seven

2011-10-26T19:37:00.000-05:00

For the third time, I ran into the director of one of the short films I saw during the festival. He’s from London, and it turns out his hotel room is right next to my hotel room. We exchanged greetings and I wished him safe travels back to the UK as I got into my cab.
The theme song from “The X-Files” was playing in the taxi as I climbed in. Moment of win.
On the plane, I sat next to a young woman named Oksana. She slept the whole way, but when we landed she woke up and I wound out she was born in Russia, raised in an orphanage until she was ten when she heard about Jesus and prayed for a family to adopt her. She then moved to Southern California and eventually Texas. She looked perfectly Russian, but spoke with a perfect Texas drawl.
The Ozarks look gorgeous in their fall attire. I got to observe this as I flew over Branson, Missouri.
So begins the grieving process of my re-introduction into normal life. I had initially been hesitant to take this trip. My chest feels heavy now, like I should be sobbing. I once read that travel allows you to come back to your home and see it for the first time. I think that’s what this feeling is. I feel… foreign.

Austin, Day Six

2011-10-25T21:11:00.000-05:00

Best line from any of the films I saw over the past week: “Make a blind man straight, make a black man gay.”
With only three dollars left, I was beginning to wonder what to do for dinner, and then found a free Luna bar in my film festival swag bag. win!
While walking back to my hotel, I heard a Snoop Dogg song blasting from a nearby bar. Naturally I gravitated toward the sound, curious about what kind of Austin restaurant would play that music so loud. Upon walking in I discovered that Snoop Dogg was in fact performing there, in concert. Fo shizzle. That was awkward.

Austin, Days Three/Four/Five

2011-10-24T18:12:00.000-05:00

Day Three:

This city is deceptively hilly. My ass will be toned in no time.
There is a Car2Go program here. SMART Cars can be rented by the minute and left at designated stations when finished. It’s a great system and I’m painfully jealous that this is not available in Milwaukee.
So much homelessness. So, so much. They sit quietly in their own communities and don’t ask for handouts.
92% of the state of Texas is in an extreme drought right now. What is left of the grass disintegrates under your shoes as you walk. The lawn around the Capitol is pristine, however.
Sat in on a discussion with Caroline Thompson, writer of “Edward Scissorhands,” “Black Beauty,” “A Nightmare Before Christmas” and a bunch of other films you’ve heard of. Very insightful. She’s a witty lass.

Day Four:

Saw James Franco at the premiere of his directorial debut, “Sal.” His smile is disarming. It takes him a long time to finish sentences. The film wasn’t bad.
Made friends with a group of high school students while in line for a short film showcase. I learned that Texas has 24 different dialects. They got in before me and saved me a seat.
My neck and shoulders have been acting up and it’s impacting my sleep. A massage would really help; alas, my now limited funds put that out of reach. I’ve been trying to compensate by stretching and using a hot towel as a compress.
The birds here are so loud. And screechy.
Went to a local Tex-Mex bar to watch the Packers game. Befriended some Pittsburgh fans watching the Steelers game on the screen next to me. One of them had an adorable smiley toddler son who applauded everything.
I am intrigued by the fashion in Austin. Sure, there are some cowboy hats and boots and belt buckles, but there are also people wearing jumpers and pantsuits and ankle boots with knee high socks.
There has been plenty of time to be alone with my thoughts. That—- combined with the sugar detox and the lack of credit card—- has revealed more to me about what I can do without and what I don’t need. Strangely, the physical limitations have helped to further clarify my emotional needs and desires. They are so lovely in their simplicity, and yet I deprived myself for so long…

Day Five:

Walked over two miles for a slice of pizza… Worth it.
Today was my first venture south of the river. Now I’m finally beginning to understand what this city is about. I’d love to spend more time down there if my feet weren’t completely raw from walking everywhere.
After attending two film festival screening, I started back across the river and through the city center to my hotel. I really love cities at night; they evoke a certain beauty and sensuality with their illuminated skylines and the murmur of music and conversation that permeates from every corner. I found myself wandering slowly and aimlessly during my first Austin nightlife experience… taking pictures and finally absorbing a genuine fondness for this place.
Made the acquaintance of a tiny opossum crossing 10th Street. Thought it was a giant rat, at first. Wished it was an armadillo.
Observed two men simultaneously mount a mechanical bull, sit back to back, and proceed to rattle together as they were bucked and jolted before a drunk audience.
Took in some milky blues music oozing from a bar on South Street. Some guy shouted at me, asking if I was single. I told him I was married. Thankfully, I can only use that line for one more week.
Came back to my hotel room and solo danced to swing music from my iPod, reminiscing about the last time I heard these songs and the great people who were with me. I’ve tried in vain to bury that part of myself.

Austin, Day Two

2011-10-21T16:38:00.000-05:00

My credit card number was stolen off the Internet and my bank called to notify me. We canceled my card and I realized I'd be down here for a week with only the small amount of cash I brought.

Here's a cheap way to travel: consume nothing but water, herbal tea, and pure fruit juice and eat nothing but raw fruits and vegetables for several consecutive days of vacation. I've been meaning to do this for a while anyway. What better time than when I am far away for the convenience of my kitchen? I went grocery shopping and stored my produce in my hotel mini fridge.

I'm actually rather liking the challenge of being even more minimal with my spending. As I am currently holding my head while enduring sugar withdrawal, I'm hoping this detox will ultimately serve me well.

Austin, Day One

2011-10-20T13:12:00.000-05:00

My guy interest offered to give me a ride to the airport at five-thirty in the morning. He showed up a half hour early to make sure I wasn't sitting around waiting for him. Then he took out my garbage and carried my luggage to the car. I gave him some freshly baked caramel bars as a token of my appreciation. He later told me they were his new addiction and he had to stop himself from eating them all in one sitting.

My layover in Kansas City gave me just enough time to pee before boarding my connecting flight to

Publish Post

Austin. Film Festival, here I come!

Some highlights upon landing in the capital of the Lone Star State:

I walked about eight miles. My feet hurt.
Everyone is extremely friendly, including the strung out shirtless flamboyant Carrot Top clone whose pants sat so low that his (lack of) manscaping was not a mystery.
On that note, don’t walk too far east on 12th Street. There are more abandoned homes than inhabited ones.
Organic vegan tropical smoothies!
Sorry Gideons, but I used your hotel Bible as a cutting board for my figs.
Flying all the way here to attend a film festival was a fantastic idea.

I AM ON VACATION AND LOVING IT.

My Halloween Costume

2011-10-19T11:12:00.004-05:00

Ladies and Gentlemen, allow me to introduce you to Felicia Hardy, a.k.a The Black Cat:

For the past five years, my comic book loving gay bestie has been asking me to dress as her for Halloween. Each year I felt compelled to to try but would eventually chicken out and go with something else.

Not this year! I took the plunge, and so did the zipper on my bodysuit. I acquired the perfect costume pieces, the perfect wig, added some fur, created my own mask and necklace... and voila! Felicia is ready to come out and play. I'm a little nervous to wear something this low-cut in public. I'm not usually an advocate for dressing promiscuously just because the holiday permits wearing a costume.

The Black Cat is a character from the Spider-Man comics. She is a cat burglar who turns to the good side when she falls in love with Spider-Man. Since she wasn't a character in any of the movies, she is considered a little more of an obscure character... except to avid comic readers. I first learned of her from my ex boyfriend of long ago, who had a poster of her on his wall. Thus, the seed was planted.

Squashfest!

2011-10-18T14:45:00.002-05:00

Knowing I won't be eating at any chain restaurants for a full year has me very excited to challenge myself by cooking new meals. I've even thought about learning to make my own bread, tortillas, salsa, sauces, ravioli, and soups. It's nice to be certain of every ingredient in the foods I eat, knowing there are no hidden additives or preservatives. This sort of mindfulness is not only healthy, but tasty too!

My next endeavor: tackling the plethora of squash in season. I want to make pumpkin risotto and butternut squash soup. I want to substitute spaghetti squash for pasta in a dish. Homemade pumpkin ravioli with a brown butter sage sauce sounds divine, doesn't it? Maybe throw some toasted pine nuts on top... glorious.

Wonderful Wonderful

2011-10-17T10:15:00.004-05:00

"You're a wonderful cook."
"Thank you."
"You're a wonderful masseuse."
"Thank you!"
"You're a wonderful kisser."
"Really? Thank you!"
"You're a wonderful lady."
"You're making me blush."
"You should blush. It looks good on you."
"All these compliments... I don't know what to do!"
"Better start liking it, if you're going to keep me around for a while."
"I like the person giving me the compliments."
"Who is he? I'll fight him for the cook/masseuse/kisser lady."

My Mind Is All Gone

2011-10-14T11:21:00.001-05:00

This song came on in the car last night. It's a great way to remember...

Love's Coming

2011-10-11T23:34:00.003-05:00

She had looked for his coming as warriors come,
With the clash of arms and the bugle's call;
But he came instead with a stealthy tread,
Which she did not hear at all.

She had thought how his armor would blaze in the sun,
As he rode like a prince to claim his bride:
In the sweet dim light of the falling night
She found him at her side.

She had dreamed how the gaze of his strange, bold eye
Would wake her heart to a sudden glow:
She found in his face the familiar grace
Of a friend she used to know.

She had dreamed how his coming would stir her soul,
As the ocean is stirred by the wild storm's strife:
He brought her the balm of a heavenly calm,
And a peace which crowned her life.

- Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Epic Birthday Weekend

2011-10-10T14:58:00.006-05:00

I could have thrown another massive party like I did last year, but for my 27th birthday I decided to make it epic in a different way: I spend each day of the weekend with different friends.

Friday:

I met up with an old college friend who gave me the film camera I purchased from him, along with the film footage he shot of my wedding day. I'm interested to see it, and then get rid of it (or make an experimental piece that involves scratching out some faces).
Then I went to a trifecta of bars with a few close pals. First we had Moscow Mules at the Red Dot and watched the end of the Brewers game. My sweet adorable friends gave me some thoughtful, perfect gifts like books and French restaurant gift certificates.
Our second stop was Von Trier for another Moscow Mule. We sat outside and enjoyed one of the few balmy evenings left this year. An adorable young man approached me and said he was collecting kissed for the Brewers win and wanted to know if I would like to participate. I gave him a sweet kiss on the cheek, and he returned the favor before running off.
Thirdly, we went to Club Anything where the special that night was music by Depeche Mode and Nine Inch Nails. There was no way I could pass up a Depeche Mode night at the only alternative/goth club in Milwaukee. My friends aren't really into that scene but obliged me on by birthday. They ended up having a good time and we spent much of the evening watching the enthusiastic dancers and drinking in the zombie hut. I also got a free birthday shot of Rum Chatta.

Saturday:

I received many online coupons from different vendors in honor of my birthday, so after spending some time cleaning the house, I treated myself to a day at the mall. I bought a few new items of clothing, ate my last chain restaurant meal of the year: a burger and fries at Five Guys (and it was pretty good!).
A friend of mine drove up from Chicago. We got gussied up and we noshed white pizza with spinach at my place. Then we sauntered down to the Third Ward and had a cocktail at Swig. I enjoyed a drink that tastes exactly like a German chocolate cake, and she had a chocolate martini.
She and I then took our fancy selves to Comedy Sportz, where we were greeted by the guy I've been seeing. He had sent me a birthday greeting earlier in the day and told me he'd reserved an entire table for me and my friends at his show tonight if I wanted to attend. I thought that was so sweet and could not pass it up. We watched his comedy ensemble show, then drove out to pick up another friend of mine to bring back for the midnight comedy show.
My Chicago lady friend and my gay friend had not met before tonight, but I knew the two of them would get along swimmingly. I got him up to speed on my guy interest while driving back to Comedy Sportz. He then proceeded to blurt out "You're right, he IS cute!" upon being introduced. Facepalm.
The four of us watched the Midnight Show, and I even got pulled up on stage at one point to participate in a game. Afterward, my guy friend took a cab ride home and my lady friend and "date" went to Ma Fischer's for some late night snacking. He drove us back to my car at five in the morning, and when my friend exited the car, I took it as a cue and kissed him. Finally. Happy birthday to me!

Sunday:

I attended a cookout with yet another group of lovely friends. I brought cookies and we watched the Packers game and ate yummy grilled sausages. The weather was still gorgeous so we sat outside after the game. I received a great bottle of champagne and a gorgeous scarf. Such thoughtful, caring people! I'm so lucky.

Monday:

My guy interest had been eager to see me again after Saturday (gee, I wonder why). I met up with him after work and we watched part the Brewers game during dinner at one establishment before relocating to another bar. All of his Comedy Sportz friends were there, sitting the full length of the bar. He picked a spot for us at the end and talked to me the whole time, even getting brave enough to take my hand. Baby steps.

28 New Things Before I Turn 28

2011-10-07T10:11:00.006-05:00

28 New Things Before I Turn 28:
01 - bake bread from scratch
02 - learn the "Thriller" dance
03 - help build a house with Habitat for Humanity
04 - master a specific cocktail (maybe one that starts on fire!)
05 - make Thanksgiving dinner
06 - go one year without eating at a chain restaurant
07 - learn how to sell my possessions on eBay, then do it!
08 - completely renovate my bathroom
09 - visit Iceland
10 - read one classic novel per month for one year
11 - get a temporary henna tattoo
12 - visit a U.S. state I've never been to
13 - get my bartender's license
14 - learn to like beans
15 - eat at Alinea in Chicago
16 - ride in a hot air balloon
17 - read the Harry Potter series and see all of the films
18 - acquire Adobe After Effects and learn to use it with online tutorials
19 - receive a handwritten love letter
20 - be the subject of a boudoir or pin-up girl photography session
21 - visit an observatory and look at the sky through a telescope
22 - stay in a log cabin
23 - make one film unrelated to work, submit to Milwaukee Film Festival
24 - see a tornado
25 - weigh 140 pounds
26 - learn to play a song by Queens of the Stone Age on the guitar
27 - see a drive-in movie
28 - do one pull-up with good form

27 New Things List: A Reflection

2011-10-06T10:11:00.007-05:00

A lot happened between the time I made this list and now. Many of the year's events impeded on my opportunities to accomplish these goals. I did succeed in some areas, and liked having a list to reference. Here is a final assessment of my 27 New Things List:

visit Iceland (nope, couldn't afford it!)
shoot 16mm film footage (someone shot 16mm footage of me, but I didn't shoot any myself)
pet an ocelot (it's hard to find a zoo with an ocelot in this country, let alone get permission to pet one)
stay in a log cabin (nope)
ask for a pay raise (took a ten percent pay CUT... ouch)
eat octopus (YES, and it was tasty but very chewy)
receive a love letter (unless you count a "please don't divorce me" letter from my ex, nope)
visit an observatory and look at the sky through a telescope (I meant to get down there... didn't happen)
transfer all of my college film works to digital (most of them are now transferred, but not all)
eat at Sanford, one of the most acclaimed restaurants in Milwaukee (Mom said she'd take me, but then Grandpa got sick)
visit Mars Cheese Castle (yes, and it was thoroughly underwhelming)
make a non-work related video project (yes, I made a commercial entry for a contest)
see a tornado (no luck this year)
weigh 140 pounds (not even close)
be the subject of a boudoir or pin-up girl photography session (I have a Groupon to do this, but I have not used it yet)
have a caricature drawn of myself (yes, got it done in San Francisco)
make homemade sushi (nope)
do the splits (tried but didn't quite get there)
memorize a long poem (yes, done and done)
cook a whole turkey (it's still in my freezer)
try reflexology (tried but my appointment was mixed up)
get my belly button pierced (yes, and I still like it)
finish watching all films on the AFI Top 100 List (I have about 30 left on the list and will easily watch the rest by the end of the year)
see Depeche Mode in concert (I watched a DVD of a concert, but they didn't tour this year)
tear out the carpet in my basement and replace with vinyl hardwood flooring (still would like to do this)
downsize: go through everything I own and sell, donate, or recycle the excess (I went through much of my stuff and donated it to Goodwill; my attic is virtually empty)
learn to play "No One Knows" by Queens of the Stone Age on guitar (I learned some new songs on the guitar, but not this one... it's hard!)

Not exactly an impressive feat. However, tomorrow I will post my new list of 28 things to do or try before I turn 28. Some will be repeats but there will be new additions.

The V Of Doom!

2011-10-05T10:11:00.004-05:00

True story: I used to be terrified of this when I was a kid. This would air after a TV show like Andy Griffith and I'd run from the room. Apparently I was not alone in this...

What English Sounds Like To Non-English Speakers

2011-10-04T10:11:00.002-05:00

This surprisingly catchy song is completely in gibberish. Yes, there are English words, but they do not form cohesive sentences. I kind of sort of really heart it.

Museum Date

2011-10-03T20:33:00.004-05:00

I'm starting to sense a shift.

After having two amazing dates with someone and discovering that he was not going to be emotionally available to date for some time, I felt confident in my decision to wait. I removed my online dating profile from the web and committed my time to making my whole self better without focus on dating. It turns out this was a great decision, regardless of my reasons for doing so. I feel much more at peace with myself, more organized, more focused and structured. However, something new seems to be budding, percolating...

After my first date with Comedy Sportz guy, we were chatting and I mentioned I was going to build a fire in the pit in my backyard. He expressed his interest in sitting around campfires so I invited him to join me. We ended up sitting under the string lights stirring the logs for three hours, talking about anything and everything. It was so easy to converse with him, like he'd been my friend for years. I found myself telling him many of the uglier details about my marriage. He shared his similar story of betrayal from his former girlfriend of seven years, and how he made a major career change in order to pursue his passion.

Despite the yucky things I shared with him, he still asked to take me out to dinner. I accepted, and he hugged me and left. I remember thinking (stupidly) after we parted ways that it would be so nice to meet and hang out with a guy like him. Um, duh Kelsi... you did, and he was just here.

Grandpa's passing interfered with our dinner plans but we rescheduled. He took me out to a nice place on the East Side and we once again found ourselves buried in hours of great conversation. When he walked me outside after the date, I was certain he was going to try something... try to kiss me, try to invite himself back to my place, or any of those other things most guys had done up to this point. When he hugged me and told me to drive safe before leaving, I admit I was a little perplexed. I was relieved that he was so considerate, but that the same time found myself wondering, "Doesn't he like me?"

The answer was yes, as he accompanied me to more Comedy Sportz festivities and he asked me on another date to the museum. I played hooky this afternoon and joined him at the Milwaukee Public Museum downtown. We hung out with butterflies and strolled through old-timey streets and examined dinosaur bones and made our own commentary for the tiny Native American figurine scenes. I bought astronaut ice cream and felt like a kid again. I knew the fake igloo, part of the Inuit exhibit, was coming up. I also knew what patrons liked to do in the privacy of that igloo. Again, I was convinced that somehow he was going to make a move... but we went into the igloo, looked around for a few seconds, and then he walked back out. I couldn't tell if I was impressed or disappointed.

After leaving the museum, we extended our date by grabbing an early dinner at a Mexican restaurant in Bay View. More sparkling conversation ensued. More hugs at the end of the date. Nothing else. Since most fellows I've dated over the past few months seemed to have the primary objective of getting into my pants after one or two dates, I found myself fascinated that I had been on five dates with him and he truly seemed interested in getting to know me, spending time with me, talking with me.

Dammit, I find myself liking him.

Milestone

2011-09-30T18:49:00.000-05:00

Trixie, the little car I got brand new when I was 18, just crossed the 100,000-mile mark today.

We've seen a lot of things together during the past nine years: college, ice storms, Canada, wind farms, car accidents. I've slept in her, stuffed her to the gills with moving boxes, scratched her to hell while shoveling two feet of snow off of her... but most importantly, I've taken care of her. Here's to another 100,000 miles! I'll drive Trixie until she can't drive anymore.

Sick. Blargh.

2011-09-29T10:22:00.002-05:00

Sorry, you don't get much from me today. I'm all stuffy and cough-y and groggy. And I don't look nearly as glamorous at it as this woman.

Introduction To Reiki

2011-09-28T23:14:00.000-05:00

My friend recently became a Reiki healer and asked if I would like to come in for an appointment. I obliged, not really knowing what to expect... but I figured at the very least I'd get to lie down and relax for ninety minutes.

I told her I was experiencing discomfort in my neck and shoulders from the car accident so many months ago, plus I was coming down with a bad cold and my throat was sore. She had me lie on my stomach and laid her hands on the trouble spots to pull out bad energy and put in good energy. Then she had me flip over on my back and did much of the same. Most of the time her hands didn't touch me at all.

It took some time to rest my mind enough to feel any benefit from the session, but after a while I started experience heightened awareness of certain things. The ticking clock on the wall got louder, my arms and hands felt heavier, my hair even seemed to move on its own. Nothing about the process was scary or bizarre, but instead reminded me of a very deep meditation. I had to come out of it slowly because trying to wake up right away left me feeling dizzy.

Ultimately, my throat felt better and I barely coughed through the entire session. Her feedback about what she saw and felt through me was quite interesting; she told me I made many deep throaty sounds and that my shoulders felt deeply burdened.

New Forgiveness

2011-09-27T09:42:00.003-05:00

Friendship: Take Number Four.

Only time will tell if it was a good idea to give it another chance...

Festivities!

2011-09-26T14:14:00.005-05:00

I spent a majority of this weekend venturing to various films for the Milwaukee Film Festival. It's one of my favorite annual events in this city. I saw six films in two days, and will be seeing a total of ten over the duration of the festival.

The showcases I look forward to the most are always the short animation collection and the local filmmaker show. I tend to know (or have at least heard of) most of the people showing in the local event. Sometimes they are my former colleagues, sometimes former teachers, sometimes staples in the film community.

I feel it is so important to support these local and independent works. I find them to be pretty much the only films worth seeing in theaters anymore. If I'm going to pay ten bucks to watch a movie, it had better be worth it! At least there seems to be a consensus about the appeal of these films, as the turnout so far has been absolutely outstanding. It gives me a real sense of pride for the Milwaukee film scene.

This weekend also marked the ten-year anniversary of the Midnight Show at Comedy Sportz. I've been attending the late-night uncensored improv show for eight years, ever since I watched a mini-performance on my college campus. It was cheap, hilarious entertainment for a poor teenager. Former players, including my favorite guy who introduced me to improv performance, came back to do the special anniversary show. It made me so happy that he not only remembered me, but remembered the skit we did when I was pulled on stage at that campus show nearly a decade ago.

Those ninety minutes were comedy gold. I have not laughed so hard in all of my life. My face hurt; I kept trying to pull my smile down to minimize the pain of laughing. I found a novelty viking helmet left on the bar after the show, so I decided to wear it. I was sitting with my "date," the guy who I went out with at Comedy Sportz once before, and other players (who know me well) kept coming up and kissing me on the cheek or hand. One of them even grabbed my ass. Hooray, viking helmets? My date, however, was pleasant and respectful and probably the only guy who did not try to kiss me.

The bar closed down for the night, so some of the workers, my date and I migrated to the smoking patio, where we all continued to talk and laugh until nearly four in the morning. Admittedly, I was trying to milk every last moment out of this amazing weekend.

Friday Weigh-In: 173

2011-09-23T14:14:00.005-05:00

The blob is shrinking! In the last two weeks I've lost 4.5 pounds.

I think I have to credit most of my progress to my eating habits; I cook most of my own meals now instead of grabbing something quick and convenient. I've also cut back on drinking anything that isn't water or tea. I haven't purchased a gallon of milk in weeks! Sometimes I drink juice, but I water it down by 50%. It tastes the same and I don't consume nearly as much sugar this way. Very little soda or alcohol for me these days. I don't even keep soda in the house.

Since I have a major sweet tooth, I have temporarily decided I won't keep any chocolate in the house except for chocolate chips. If I'm really having a craving, I'll eat a handful of those... but I feel pretty silly doing so. I find that the desire to eat chocolate passes quickly if I don't indulge. If I'm wanting to eat because I'm hungry, chocolate is not what I should be reaching for anyway.

Though it's not fun to admit, I have gone through all of my cabinets on several occasions looking for a piece of chocolate and, upon finding none, look for something else to do. It's made me very aware of how mindless my snacking could be. It seems straightforward enough, but I honestly thought I had a handle on my nibbling habits; I didn't think they were that bad. How wrong I was!

Still, I don't deprive myself of the stuff. When I go to my physical therapy sessions twice a week, I help myself to one fun size candy bar in the waiting room basket. I put it in my pocket and eat it after the session. It's become a little reward for myself.

That's all I've done so far. I only went to kickboxing class once all month. I haven't even walked to work because I have to drive to my appointments during my lunch hour, so I need my car. Aside from some small shoulder and back exercises required by my therapist, I have not been very physically active. All of this change has been diet-based.

Disco Is Back?

2011-09-22T23:14:00.003-05:00

I went to see Cut Copy and Washed Out at Turner Hall tonight, and was pleasantly surprised at how much I enjoyed the disco/funk opening group Midnight Magic. Maybe I was just in a dancing mood at the moment, but I got caught up in the kitsch. The horn players had outstanding solos, the bass player was rocking out, and the lead singer was hilarious.

Computer Love

2011-09-21T22:21:00.002-05:00

Beautiful. (Can you hear the familiar musical phrase within?)

Heed The Octopus

2011-09-20T10:22:00.003-05:00

My new Tumblr:

heedtheoctopus.tumblr.com

Call It Off

2011-09-19T14:14:00.003-05:00

This song is the awesomeness! I'm going to see Washed Out in concert soon.

Hudson

2011-09-16T14:13:00.002-05:00

It's been a fun and relaxing weekend with my friend up in Hudson, WI. We took a long walk from the lake to the dyke on the river. She told me stories of growing up here and the crazy things he and her friends used to do... like jump off the bridge into the river or go skinny dipping at night. It's crazy in the sense that the water up here is FREEZING!

We also went shopping in Minnesota (hellooooooo no sales tax!) and I got a new purse and a drop-dead gorgeous pair of boots at this store. My friend got an amazing cream colored leather bomber jacket that looked like sex when she put it on. True story.

That night we went out to an Asian/Latin fusion restaurant and I got drunk on Moscow Mules. The next morning, we sobered up with Potato Oles at Taco Johns. Do we know how to have a good time, or what?

The Foo!

2011-09-15T10:13:00.003-05:00

Last night I attended the Foo Fighters concert in St. Paul. I rocked out so hard I actually re-aggravated my neck injuries! Today I rest with a heat pack on my pillow, but it was worth it.

Photographic evidence:

Tot Soccer

2011-09-14T13:44:00.000-05:00

Apparently, my four-year-old nephew plays soccer. What a riot! These kids have no clue what to do and are just running around like a bunch of adorable confused mini-people.

Dot

2011-09-13T14:13:00.003-05:00

The world's smallest stop-motion computer animation... mind-blowing:

The Walk

2011-09-12T10:00:00.019-05:00

The morning after my most recent great date with a great guy, he called me and with a heavy heart admitted that, as much as he wants to date me, he can't commit the adequate time and energy into being with someone, and he felt it would be unfair to continue right now. He said it with such genuineness and such sadness... not as an excuse to cast me aside and move on to the next girl. It would explain why he held onto me so long last night; he knew he was going to have to tell me this and he didn't want to.

Of course, I wanted to scream. Why, oh why, must I be tested again? I firmly asked him to verify that he was not looking to date right now in general as opposed to just not being interested in me. What I got was confirmation that he is very interested in me, just overwhelmed. I have to be honest, I can see where he's coming from: a full-time job working in an emergency room, writing a thesis and studying for his Master's degree, raising a young daughter, and dating... which one is most expendable?

I can see he's going through some stages I've already cleared in my journey through divorce. I had hit the ground running, immersing myself in social activities, new hobbies, and lots of dates. I had attempted to fill the space where my brief joke of a marriage had been, and I ended up burning myself out quite quickly. To tell you the truth, I wasn't emotionally ready to grapple with any of it, and that's where he is now. A lot of the words he said were words that came out of my mouth just a few months ago. That process after leaving my ex taught me a lot about myself, however; I know what I want now, and I'm not going to waste my energy pursuing conveniences when I'd rather stick it out for what I truly value.

-------------------------------

On Sunday I decided to go for a walk. The weather was perfect, and it would give me adequate time to sort out the thoughts swimming in my head. I changed into fitness gear, tucked a house key into my sports bra, and left. I didn't take my phone, a camera, an iPod, a water bottle, or money... just me and my two legs out for a walk.

And I just kept walking. I walked over 100 city blocks in three hours.

At first, the stroll started out refreshing and relaxing. I began to feel the burn in my legs about thirty to forty blocks in. I was close to a park, so I decided to keep walking and rest there. I did some stretching, some yoga poses, some slow laps through the woods. I stopped to admire some young deer who were oblivious to my presence. I now began to realize I had to walk over fifty blocks to get home.

Slowly, my subconscious started to percolate to the surface. I'd left myself with no money or phone on purpose. I wanted full commitment to this walk, without any way to pay for a shortcut home. I didn't bring my iPod or camera because I didn't want any distractions. The intention had been to clear out the mess in my head, and that's what finally began to occur on the last stretch of my journey.

The nerve endings on my feet began to fire off painful prickling jolts with each step, and I began to understand why I needed this walk so badly. This year has been nothing but a series of emotional tests, one right after the other. I barely have a chance to recover from one event before being pummeled with another. There's a line from a Assemblage 23 song that says, "only so much rain can fall at once," but there were times this year where it's been hard to believe that. And yet, I'm still standing. I haven't been given more than I can bear. I've been pushed beyond the boundaries of what I thought I could handle... and this walk was to prove to myself that I could surpass my self-imposed physical limits, too.

I was ten blocks from home, and my feet were screaming... but my mind was focused. I was defying the feelings of inadequacy and self-pity and pushing through the physical pain, just as I had with the emotional pain. I began to speak out loud to God:

"You built this body, God. You gave me exactly what I need to get me through whatever comes my way. Other bodies have endured Iron Man competitions, survived extreme temperatures, recovered from tragic injuries. I have the power to finish this walk. I have the power to overcome this affair, this divorce, this car accident, this pay cut, this lame job market, this death of a family member. I will push through them and learn from them so I can be a better steward, a better disciple, a source of strength and wisdom for myself and for others. I'm doing this to show you that I'm ready to take it all on. I can handle it. I won't give up on myself, and I'm going to fight for what I want. This guy you sent into my life... He is what I want. I want this one, God. I'm going to fight for him. I'm going to fight for him by waiting. I'm not going to fill my schedule with meaningless dates and superficial relationships. I'm going to dedicate that time to rebuilding my self-esteem, improving my health and fitness, connecting with loved ones, pursuing my passions, being a devoted homeowner, serving my work the best I can... and waiting for him to be ready for me. You brought him to me, and now I have to wait. And I will."

For the last five blocks, I broke into a run.

Another Fabulous Date

2011-09-09T11:04:00.005-05:00

I went back to his house. We watched another movie. This time, his daughter joined us. He noticed that she and I had an inside joke going as we exchanged grins and hand gestures, only I wasn't privy to what the joke was. He went upstairs to put her to bed and ended up falling asleep beside her. I went upstairs to wake him and tell him I'd see him soon, but then he kissed me and insisted I stay. He followed me back to the couch where we proceeded to nod off together in front of the television. Occasionally we'd stir ourselves awake and have groggy conversations about our life's goals and philosophies.

At 4 in the morning, we stood and embraced in the dark. I watched the our shadows, created on the wall by the TV screen, and liked how well we meshed together.

Girls Like You

2011-09-08T11:04:00.005-05:00

Run, whirlwind run
Further and further away
Into the sun
In 20 minutes
Everyone will remember you when you’re gone
And your heart is a stone
Buried underneath your pretty clothes

Don’t you know people write songs about girls like you?

What will you do when something stops you?
What will you say to the world?
What will you be when it all comes crashing
Down on you little girl?
What would you do if you lost your beauty?
How would you deal with the light?
How would you feel if nobody chased you?
What if it happened tonight?

How would you cope it the world decided to
Make you suffer for all that you were?
How could you dance if no-one was watching
And you couldn’t even get off the floor?
What would you do if you couldn’t even feel?
Not even pitiful pain?
How would you deal with the empty decisions
Eating away at the days?

Don’t you know people write songs about girls like you?

Breakdown

2011-09-07T23:04:00.000-05:00

After Grandpa's funeral, my entire family got wasted on Jack Daniels. All but me, since I had to drive back to Milwaukee that evening. I wandered off to the edge of the cornfield on Grandma's farm and lay beneath a willow tree to deal with things in my own, quiet, sober way.

That night my still-tipsy dad asked how I was doing, and I began to cry. The happenings of the past year had become too much to bear, it seemed. One thing after another occurring without any time to recover between them had left me drained and tired and frustrated. Immediately, Dad wanted me to tell him how he could fix it. This escalated into an argument because I wouldn't give him a straight answer. This culminated in me screaming at him:
"There IS no solution, Dad! If there was a way to fix everything, believe me, I'd be fixing it. But I can't undo my marriage. I can't undo the car accident. I can't undo my injuries. I can't undo my kitchen flood. I can't undo my pay cut. I can't bring Grandpa back. I can't delete cancer. These are things that I have to GET THROUGH. There is no definitive "fix." I'm just so tired, tired of everything. I feel helpless because for the first time in ages, I can't handle things. I can't support myself emotionally or financially, and I hate that."

Dad offered to give me some money, thinking that would help. It just made me angrier, as though he were trying to slap a Band-Aid on what felt like very real despair to me. He told me that if he has it, and I need it, I should accept it from him. My parents taught me the value of a very good work ethic by living it themselves. I want so badly to emulate that, and I had done so until the living expenses of a dual income suddenly became my sole responsibility. I silently struggled to find a new job, a second part-time job, or freelance work... all in vain. I did not want to relinquish that independence. But now I had reached the point where I was feeling sorry for myself, being stressed about money instead of mourning my grandfather. And I thought about how I wouldn't even be in this position if my ex had not betrayed me or if I'd never even married him in the first place. It all made me so angry.

Finally, Dad seemed to understand, and he hugged me. That was all I needed.

My Pants Broke.

2011-09-06T10:11:00.004-05:00

I put on my work pants this morning, then sat down on the couch... and my pants broke. The seam that holds the zipper mechanism to the front of my pants split wide open. I tried to tell myself that it was due to the pants being old or that I sat too quickly. The truth is, the stress of this year has caused me to gain ten pounds despite my self-convincing that my lifestyle was healthier than ever before.

It would have been more embarrassing had this happened at work, but I was humiliated alone in my home nonetheless. Is this what it will finally take to make a change?

No, I Have Not Forgotten

2011-09-05T10:52:00.000-05:00

While my dad was visiting me this weekend to help with a landscaping project, a country song about 9/11 came on the radio. I expressed my disdain for such a song; it seemed to me that some artist was tugging at some very sensitive heartstrings in an attempt to sell albums. Sure, the lyrics sounded genuine (and perhaps they were), but to promote it at this time of year made me suspicious of the record label and the radio station.

My dad immediately came to the song's defense: "What? How can you say that? This song is about AMERICA!"

Ugh.

The Best Date

2011-09-02T14:11:00.000-05:00

Last night I went on the best date I've had. Ever.

Before the previous evening, my best date ever had been an elaborate story involving fluorescent body painting atop a massive white bed sheet on a concrete loft apartment floor while listening to The Residents, then melting and cleansing in a steamy shower afterwards. It was a sexy, daring story that I enjoyed telling others and loved to replay in my mind... even though it happened years ago.

I went to his house. It was late, nearly 11 PM... perfect for two insomniacs like us. He'd made pizza from scratch, using organic sauce and cheese and spinach. We enjoyed it at his dining table while sharing perfectly balanced and engaging conversation. I looked around at the interior of his townhouse: simple, minimalist, amazingly clean. He admitted he spent a lot of time nervously preparing his home for my company, even taking the time to research and select three promising-sounding films I could choose from. All three were lesser-known independent flicks... nothing laden with CGI to compensate for an empty plot. I chose the horror flick and we sat on his ultra comfortable leather couch to watch. We offered our own commentary throughout, and eventually I invited myself to steal his body heat without his objection. I lay on top of him and his arms encircled me, and we stayed that way--- two cozy parallel lines--- for the duration of the film.

He'd never tried wine, but bought a bottle for the occasion. We sipped Riesling (my favorite, and now his) out of coffee mugs while we conversed in his tiny kitchen. At one point we realized it was past 4 AM but neither of us were tired. He asked me if he could show me some of his photography work, so we adjourned to his computer upstairs. He sat in the office chair and I sidled up next to him as he showed me his natural eye for framing and composition. Many of the pictures were of his beautiful three-year-old daughter, whom I did not meet because she was staying with her mother that night.

He admitted to me I was his first date since splitting from his wife, and hoped his nerves were not too obvious. He then made a clever comment about refusing to date women taller than him (he's 5' 8") and asked me to stand beside him to measure my height. I'm 5' 7", so I made the cut. It was really just a ploy to get me to stand close to him, so he could pull me in for a kiss.

So far we had bonded over our love for healthy tasty food, our fondness for quality cinema, our shared interest in photography, our penchant for tidy living, our brief failed marriages, our love of children, and now our adoration of tender physical contact. Everything about the movement of his hands--- whether to place it on my cheek or nape of my neck, to run his fingers along my arm, to gently tug me closer at the small of my back--- was sweet and genuine and effortless. We'd both break the kiss long enough to smile and say a few quiet words before kissing again.

The morning sun was peeking through the blinds before we finally went to bed. I hadn't planned to sleep over. My contact lenses remained in my eyes, but I didn't care. We awoke in the same embrace we'd dozed off in, and I felt secure, peaceful, certain.

At 8:30 we finally parted so I could go to work. I kissed him goodbye and playfully remarked that if he didn't call me I'd be pissed. Only a few hours passed before I heard from him again, and we confirmed plans for a sequel date next week.

This is exactly what I want... what I've always wanted. At least now I know it exists.

Fashion Dancing

2011-09-01T10:10:00.004-05:00

This video makes me miss swing dancing. A little.

Sixty Years

2011-08-31T10:10:00.008-05:00

I woke up this morning to an eerily quiet house. I lay in bed for a few minutes, drinking in the silence... No birds, no crickets, no traffic, no movement downstairs, no clinking of coffee pots and cereal bowls.

I padded down the steps and found a note from my mother, written on green paper and resting on the counter:

"Dad passed away peacefully right before midnight. Linda (aunt) and Tracey (uncle) were with him. Mom is still sleeping --- I am going over to be with them. I will call later."

My immediate thought was one of gratitude: Thank you, God, for taking him home.

I did cry, a little, when watching my grandmother try to hold it together as I visited her that morning. I studied the contours of her face as she looked out the window, lost in her own thoughts, or in no thought at all. I looked at her tiny delicate hand as I held it, trying to offer some sort of comfort to a woman who was experiencing the first day in sixty years without her companion. We all couldn't help but stare at the empty hospital bed that had been occupied just hours before. For the most, part, I felt incredible peace. After seeing Grandpa in the condition he was in, I knew it was time for his soul to be freed from the burden of his body.

My Last Visit With Grandpa

2011-08-30T18:10:00.003-05:00

"Are you prepared for what you're going to see?" My mom asked gently as she opened the door to my grandparents' farmhouse.

"No. But I don't expect to be."

"We don't think he'll make it through the day. He breathes loudly, but he is medicated so he shouldn't be feeling any pain." As Mom said this, I heard him cry out from his hospital bed in the living room.

The last time I saw Grandpa before this, he'd been sitting in his favorite chair, lively, talking, able to walk. He was the same old Grandpa, save being a dozen pounds lighter. In the last few days, however, he'd been confined to a bed after losing a lot of weight and strength. The pain had become much more substantial, and hospice had to take over.

My grandparents' house always had a distinct smell: warm, homey, powdery. Today, it smelled like a hospital. The oxygen machine wheezed and pumped methodically. Grandpa's breath was loud and very labored. Each attempt at a cough took all the energy he could muster and sounded more like a moan. Grandma, my aunt, my mother, and my cousin all sat in the kitchen as I passed through to visit with him in the living room.

As much as I wanted to brace myself, there was no way to know how I'd really feel upon seeing him lying there. He was heavily medicated, mouth open, eyelids slightly ajar, eyes rolled up into his head. His bony chest protruded through his thin white shirt and his feet stuck out from under the thin white sheet. There was nothing left of his body but skin, bones, and tumors... which amassed around his torso near the liver and lung areas. His face was concave and pale. His hands, remarkably, looked exactly the same.

I sat in the chair beside his bed and said hello to him. I forced a small smile in an attempt to comfort myself, forcing the shock of seeing him so ill back into the recesses of my mind. I put my hand on his; Grandpa's hands were still so much larger than mine.

After a few minutes of quietly sitting with him, grateful to have been able to visit with him before he was gone forever, his eyes suddenly blinked and he turned his head to look right at me. I realized he was lucid and took the opportunity to speak to him. "Hello, Grandpa! It's good to see you!"

He smiled a little and said with almost perfect clarity, "It's good to see you too."

Everyone in the kitchen perked up and looked at me in astonishment. Mom smiled and said it was a miracle he was able to respond. Tears began to stream down my face.

Grandpa said, this time with more difficulty, "You're not cryin' cuz of me, are ya?"

I smiled and wiped my eyes and said, "No, I'm just happy to be here." Then he slipped back into his medicated haze as quickly as he'd emerged. But he'd seen me! He'd spoken to me! He knew I was there! I was overjoyed.

He came to a few more times while I was there. At one point my relatives were seeing his hands shake and wondered if he was in pain. When he came to again, I was sitting beside him but not looking at him. He reached out and grabbed my hand, lifting his head slightly off the pillow. I greeted him and asked him if he was comfortable. He replied, "Yes, I am."

Grandma wanted us to pray around him, so the five of us gathered around the bed, held hands, and said the Lord's Prayer. It's all Grandma could get out before she started to cry, asking God to strengthen him and all of us. Grandpa looked slightly uncomfortable watching the scene, so I broke the tension by saying, "Gee Grandpa, you sure are lucky to have all these hot babes taking care of you." His eyes moved over my shoulder to look at Grandma, who had moved to her easy chair. He said, "Yeah, I'm lookin' at one right now." I could still see the love for her in his face and feel his desire to protect her.

I had to leave for a while to have the anti-lock brakes fixed in my car. I told Grandpa I was leaving, but then I'd be right back. He was still lucid at the moment, and he took my hand and said, "You better come back. As soon as you turn around I'm going to miss you."

My biggest fear at that moment was that he would pass away before I returned. When I did come back, and he was awake but not very responsive. At one point he mumbled "Gotta take a leak." It took four of us to gently lift him onto the commode. His urine was dark like iodine; he was so dehydrated. I ran upstairs to get him a new shirt since his back was soaked in sweat. So many of his undershirts were worn out from years of farming and yard work. I made sure to grab a white shirt with no holes in it, just in case it was the last shirt he would ever wear.

When we got him back down into the bed, I said my goodbyes. It was unlikely I'd ever talk to him again, but even so, I kissed his forehead and said, "Goodbye, Grandpa. Love you. I'll see you tomorrow. Don't leave for vacation to Hawaii or anything while I'm gone." If he had been lucid he would have appreciated the humor. My grandma quipped, "Yeah, that's exactly where we're goin'."

Hot And Sour Thai Coconut Soup

2011-08-29T15:46:00.005-05:00

This weekend I ventured to the new-ish Asian market in the Milwaukee area. I bought several unique foods (like rambutan, lychees, and dragonfruit) and saw some pretty weird ones (like duck feet, pig entrails, and cow blood). Best of all, the tiny restaurant inside serves bubble tea! This news made my day.

Inspired, I went home and put together a hodge-podge Asian soup. The broth base was chicken stock and coconut milk. I added flavorings like fish sauce, ginger, soy sauce, lime juice, and hot sauce. I threw in some sliced carrots and broccoli florets. I poached a couple of eggs in there. I chopped up tofu in to small squares and added those as well. Finally, I threw in some rice vermicelli noodles and sat down to feast. It took 20 minutes to whip up, made a huge batch, and tasted delicious. I plan to whittle away at this all week long.

(Please excuse the photo quality; I took this hastily with my cell phone. I was excited to eat it!)

A Tale Of Three Dates

2011-08-26T15:46:00.006-05:00

Ever the active social bug, I somehow managed to go on three dates in the last 24 hours.

The first was with a guy named Cody at the Envoy restaurant near downtown. I had a coupon for dinner there and decided to use it on the day it was to expire. I ordered my food and drinks and was watching preseason football when a man sidled up next to me. We got to talking, and it was clear he was interested in me. It became an impromptu date of sorts, as he continued to order more food and drinks and desserts to share. At the end, I didn't even get to use my coupon because he footed the bill for everything. He was visiting from California on a business trip, so it was both our first and last date. He was an okay guy, but I don't think I'd date him again even if I had the opportunity. The free dinner was awesome, though!

The second was an evening coffee shop meeting with a young man named Charlie. We'd met online and I found his good looks and dreamy disposition quite intriguing. He would speak of brushes with death, show me his stunning photography skills, and carry on about deep and intangible life experiences with his boyish voice. He was very smiley and sweet and I'd love to hang out with him again, but I didn't feel a romantic connection to him.

The third date was that same night with a fellow from Comedy Sportz. He is sweet and fun and hilarious and courteous and could easily be in the running for best friend material. I bet he'd hate hearing that. I watched his performance and then we stayed for the late show before closing the bar down with the rest of the comedy brood at 3 AM.

27 New Things: Film Update #5

2011-08-25T10:49:00.004-05:00

Since my last film update regarding my 27 New Things project, I have watched the following films on the AFI Top 100 Movies list:

The Godfather
The Godfather Part 2
It Happened One Night
Stagecoach
Jaws

The Godfather films are very deserving of their "classic" status. It Happened One Night was clever and witty and easily a new favorite of mine. Stagecoach was very well-shot and had deeper character development than most westerns I've seen. Jaws was fine in the sense that it was fun, but I didn't really develop an affinity for any of the characters... it seemed more about a showcase of a giant low-budget shark.

Erik Johansson: Photoshop Genius

2011-08-24T16:12:00.000-05:00

I was recently blessed to discover the photograph editing skills of this young man. Wowee zowee!

Inside The Head Of A Two-Year-Old

2011-08-23T15:45:00.003-05:00

Here's a hilarious, accurate description of the inner monologue of a toddler (or an ex-husband with ADHD, as I have experienced).

MUBI Nerd

2011-08-22T17:45:00.002-05:00

(Yes, that's a razor being held to a woman's eye. - from "Un Chein Andalou")

Be still my heart! A website that streams classic films, as well as hard-to-find international and indie flicks? Pinch me!

Feature-length films are $3 to view. Shorts cost $1 to watch. Some films are FREE and worth investigating.

It's not easy to find screenings of Un Chein Andalou (Salvador Dali's experimental... thing), but MUBI has it. Want to see an avant-garde feminist drama? MUBI has it. How about the first ever film made of Alice in Wonderland (shot in 1903!) available to view for free? MUBI has that too!

I'm rediscovering my passion and affinity for good cinema. MUBI is going to help me feed my addiction.

Friday Weigh-In: Attack Of The Blob!

2011-08-19T15:45:00.005-05:00

I haven't been to diligent about my Friday Weigh-Ins lately. This is a combination of being exhausted from work, discouraged with work, worried about my grandfather, and going to physical therapy for my post-accident injuries. This means I need my car to drive there on my lunch hour, so I haven't been walking. Of course, none of these are really an excuse, but they can be justified to some extent.

Just for kicks, I stepped on the scale this morning and nearly peed myself when I saw the number staring back at me: 177.5.

Not only have I not lost, but I've gained ten pounds. Fuck.

PT

2011-08-18T15:45:00.002-05:00

I started physical therapy this week to accelerate recovery from the injuries I sustained in my car accident back in April. What a difference it has made already! My therapist is very hands-on; she'll take lots of time to work the kinks out of my neck and shoulders with her hands (much like a calculated massage) before I do stretch-band exercises to rebuild the muscles.

I'm supposed to go three times a week, and the only time I have available is during my lunch hour. It's a bit of a hassle to get out there and then back to work, but so far it's been worth it. Now I can actually sleep through the night without being awakened by neck pain!

A Merge Of Mediums

2011-08-17T10:02:00.003-05:00

Andy Denzler paints images inspired by paused VHS tapes. I find these fascinating. It also encourages me to pick up a paintbrush again.

The Box Trap

2011-08-16T16:02:00.003-05:00

My co-worker, who is head of the tech department at my job, wandered into the office that I share with my supervisor today. We were installing new software that required a hard Internet line to be fed from the server room. The purple cable stretched down the hall and around the corner into our space.

When my co-worker wandered in, he said he was following the cable because he needed to see where it went. He tends to make everyone's business his business, and I guess I'd grown tired of it... because I said, "So if I ever wanted to booby trap you, I'd just have to feed an Internet cable to a box propped with a stick and I'd catch you in it?" This remark made everyone laugh, and even my co-worker played it off well.

By the end of the day, I had people on other floors congratulating me for putting him in his place. It seems my sentiment towards his demeanor is shared...

Carne

2011-08-15T15:44:00.002-05:00

Oh, I love you Invader Zim, and all of your delightful randomness.

HOLY SHIT UNICORNS!

2011-08-12T11:04:00.001-05:00

What's that? You like horses with horns on their heads who provide advice for how to live a better life? Then the blog Unicorns For Socialism is for you! I recently discovered this gem in the blogosphere, and I've really enjoyed forcing myself to think about how awesome I am by doing awesome things that the entries happily suggest.

Some favorite articles:

Take the time to sit down and read these wondrous nuggets of glittery gold usefulness.

Girl Crush: Natascha McElhone

2011-08-11T15:21:00.000-05:00

I've been told I look like her. If that's true, what a compliment! I think she's a marvel. I adore her as Karen on "Californication." She's had some sad events in her life. Still, her gorgeous mentality and perseverance are infectious. Her role as Karen is edgy and strong, yet dimensional. She definitely possesses qualities I'd like to embody.

Be Somebody, Or Be Somebody's Fool!

2011-08-10T21:44:00.000-05:00

Oh, Dr. T.

A Tough Decision

2011-08-09T08:16:00.004-05:00

"If your recent attempt to get in touch with someone from your past didn't create the results you were hoping for, do not despair. Unlike you, this person is simply not ready for a reunion. The reasons may very well have little, if anything, to do with you, so don't take it personally. This person hasn't been affecting your mood for a long time, and there's no need to give him or her that power now! Focus on moving forward. You can't wait for someone who won't make an effort."

- My horoscope, the day after I said goodbye to a toxic friend

Need A Pick-Up?

2011-08-08T08:43:00.002-05:00

Having a rough day? Watch this. If it doesn't make you want to dance, it'll at least make you smile.

Kelsi's Song

2011-08-05T09:42:00.006-05:00

My friend Mike passed away in December from an undiagnosed heart defect. We were good pals back in our teen years. Both of us were regulars at The Loft teen hangout in Madison (the place to be in 2003!). We were always checking out the latest local punk and ska band performances. For a short while a dated a guitarist in a punk-pop band called Billy Ray's Pirates, and Mike asked me, "Why are you dating that butt pirate? Seriously, stop it." (It turned out to be good advice.)

He had dark hair but liked to bleach the top of it sometimes. He was obsessed with the local band Joshua Circle and became and official groupie, occasionally playing with them. Sometimes he sat up on the staged and messed around on the guitar between band sets. He had a crush on my little sister and consistently asked me if I'd put in a good word for him. He was goofy and always laughing. He was obsessed with NOFX and got me interested in them as well.

He'd call me late at night so I'd have to go into my parent's basement to talk to him so I wouldn't wake the household. He'd say, "Check out this new song I've been working on." Then he'd set down the phone, pick up the guitar, and play it for a few minutes. Sometimes he played the drums (which just sounded like noise over the phone). I remember there were times where he played for so long that I'd get annoyed and put the phone down for a little while. It pains me now to reflect on those times I didn't even listen.

He was in band after band--- Hey Jackson, A Gnarly Swell, and Unum Machina, to name a few--- and he always sent me tracks and sometimes even the whole damn album. The day he died I played my HJ and AGS discs for hours. I even took a shot of vodka for breakfast in honor of him

Mike had passion, he had talent, he had charisma... and it was infectious. He was loved by so many, and was like a brother to me all those years ago.

Two weeks ago there was a gathering in Madison called Mikefest I. It unfortunately conflicted with arrangements I'd already made here in Milwaukee, so regrettably I was unable to attend. Several of his former friends and bandmates put together a tribute album of re-recorded tracks from the days when Mike was with them. There is a website where T-shirts and the tribute album are available. I visited the site and was shocked when I looked at the song list. Track number 10 was called "Kelsi's Song."

My heart leaped up into my throat. Surely he must have been talking someone else named Kelsi. There's no way a song with my name on it could exist without me knowing, right? It couldn't be me. Then I read the excerpt, written my Mike's friend Henry:

"The origins of this song are a complete anomaly. Some girl named Kelsi wrote the lyrics but the song itself may or may not have been the very first one Mike and I (and Cody) wrote together around mid-2003, long before A Gnarly Swell was formed. When I met Mike we were both NOFX-obsessed and it showed in pretty much everything we played. I was so impressed by how well he could emulate that band's sound in his songwriting, but as we grew as musicians and explored different styles it became evident that Mike could emulate pretty much anything. Nothing typifies our early days better than this song."

2003. That would have meant the Kelsi he was referring to was me. I don't remember writing song lyrics. I don't recall Mike mentioning this song to me. He never sent me this song. How was I ignorant of this for all these years? I e-mailed Henry and he immediately sent me the mp3 track.

It's 52 seconds that reek of delicious 90s punk. It's fast, it's loud, and I can't understand all the words. One line I do hear clearly: "Kelsi's song is for the idiots who control our lives but can't control themselves."

I'm so sorry I didn't listen to you sometimes, Mike. I'm listening now, eight years later, and I've got a huge nostalgic smile on my face. I'm beside myself with gratitude. Thank you.

My Journal

2011-08-04T19:35:00.004-05:00

Today I was reading some old journal entries--- from four to five years ago---because I was cleaning out my computer files of any photographs or documents connected to my life with my ex. It's a daunting task, as there were a lot of photos... but it needed to happen at some point. I feel nothing when I hit the "delete" button each time he appears.

I came across the journal archives during this purge. I screamed and wanted to throw things when I read how many times my ex-husband ignored me, mistreated me, or let me down. From the very beginning. I decided to save the journal, if for nothing else but a learning tool for what not to do next time.

New Superpower

2011-08-03T15:29:00.001-05:00

I have an idea for my new ideal superpower: the ability to silence any car horns in proximity so I can walk to work in peace.

Secondary feature: the ability to tune out people who shout things like "Hey baby!" and "Let's go ridin'!" form their front porches.

Hurry Hurry Hurry

2011-08-02T16:10:00.007-05:00

Sometimes I feel like the only person I know besides my mother who will take more than an hour to prepare dinner. I'm not afraid to slow-cook, to fine-chop, to to stir and to simmer. The food tastes so much better and I feel much more satisfied. I sit alone at my massive six-person dining table and eat my delicious solo meal, content with my time being well-invested.

I live one mile from work, so it takes four minutes to drive there at most. However, I often opt to leave twenty minutes early and walk instead. It gives me time to work the groggy clouds out of my head, to hum a few tunes to myself, to think about things that need thinking about. Sometimes my forehead gets a little sweaty on humid mornings, but I ultimately never regret walking over driving. And ever since I misplaced my parking permit, it's been added incentive to stroll to my office so I don't have to get a new one.

Lately I've been a reading machine. I've decided to often forgo the vacuous hole that is online social networking in favor of traditional novel fare. I'm on my eighth book in a month, and I love it. I wonder why I'd stopped reading for so long.

The only television I seem to watch these days is on my lunch hour, catching up on episodes of "Weeds" and "Breaking Bad" and "Project Runway" online. I've been plowing through my Netflix list of movies in order to meet my 27 Before 27 goal of watching all top 100 films before my birthday. Otherwise, the TV stays off.

Is there a reason why people are in such a hurry all the time? Why do people stuff their faces with processed food that is only one molecule away form being identified as plastic... merely because it's convenient? Why do people speed and take shortcuts and blow through red lights and cut off other drivers and park illegally? Why do they cut in line at the store or impatiently tap their foot, huffing as they wait? Why do people call to ask if I received the text they sent me about a Facebook message they posted on my wall?

Is there a reason people forsake their health in order to gain a few minutes of time? Is there a reason people are in such a rush to get to the jobs they complain about and hate? Is there a reason people are in a hurry to give their money away in exchange for some product or service they don't really need? Is there a reason three methods of communication are required to convey one thought or statement (one that is likely not even urgent, since it was posted on Facebook in the first place)?

Wow, the American standard of living has tanked. If our time is so valuable, don't you think we should better utilize it? Do you think this is how is is supposed to be, how it should be? Are you okay with that?

Nicknames Over The Years

2011-08-01T15:13:00.004-05:00

Kels
Kelsipants
Pants
Kelsalin
Killer
Pumpkin
Lady
Babe
Kelsi Don't Stare
Cutey McSexyPants (an oldie but never-forgotten goodie)

On Not Settling, Part Two

2011-07-29T15:09:00.007-05:00

My co-worker/supervisor has been arguing on the phone with his ex-girlfriend for the last half hour in our office. She calls every day, sometimes several times a day. She's constantly nagging him with questions about what he's working on right now and why, who it's for, what that noise in the background is, etc. Sometimes this interferes with truly relevant things, like the software tutorial we were in the middle of today. Most of the time, it's just profoundly annoying. They aren't even dating anymore!

It's bad enough that he introduces me to people as his assistant and takes credit for the work I do... now I have to listen to his balls get stepped on daily by a controlling ex.

To add more despair to what has quickly become an undesirable work environment, I recently found out that I am taking a 10% salary cut this next fiscal year, which means I'll be making about $400 less per month than I did when I started this job four years ago. Also, my annual deductible is going up from $100 to $1,000 for the same health coverage.

Combine all of that with yet another season of dealing with clipart-infested posters with rainbow fonts and misspelled words (which I pointed out but no one listened to me and the draft went to print anyway), and being ordered to cut giant starfish out of cardboard to be thrown onto a stage... Just stick a fork in me.

How can someone really develop and maintain passion for their life's work when one has to work merely in order to live? Isn't that just a means of existing, of scraping by? Since when did it become about money, and selling yourself, and allowing yourself to be stepped on? Many say that's the way it has to be sometimes.

No, it doesn't. We can be happy with what we do. We can do good work and enjoy it and be respected and sustain ourselves all at the same time. And I intend to do so.

This means that I am going to quit my job.

Yes, in this market. The plan is in motion. More details to come... stay tuned.

On Not Settling, Part One

2011-07-28T15:13:00.001-05:00

This post is long overdue. It's something that requires genuine, deep, extensive thought on my part and I kept putting it off... mostly because it's hard to admit when I'm not okay with the status quo. Granted, there are lots of things I have issues with: world famine, my state's governor, corporations, genetically modified seeds, child abuse, fast food restaurants, hidden airline fees, bad drivers, paper cuts. However, this particular grievance pertains to my life in general.

Where did the passion go? I was such a creative kid. I wrote plays about Alcatraz and the Unabomber. I made Barbie videos of Prince Charles and Princess Diana going to a dinner party only to discover that Aladdin shot the pizza delivery girl, and one of the teenage guests dumps a grill full of meat and hot coals on Aladdin's crotch to hinder his escape. I wrote stories and plays and music and invented my own radio show using songs from the Weather Channel. I created a claymation alien film for 4-H and won the blue ribbon. As I got older, I made movies for class projects instead of writing essays. I spent more time in the video lab in high school than I did in class... and still managed to get straight A's. I made video montages of every vacation I took. I played the violin, the oboe, the piano, the guitar. I learned two foreign languages. I once brought fluorescent paint, a white sheet, a black light, and a bathing suit to a guy's house and we had the best date ever in the history of life. (Seriously... rawr.)

It's been over a year since I feel like I've done anything especially creative. I did learn to speak some French, and I did put together a video entry for a commercial contest. Both felt good, but were short-lived. Most days I sit in my office at my job, surfing the Web for six hours at my desk and putting in about two hours of actual work. I told myself I'd stay here for five years, tops. My four-year anniversary is in November. I like my job... It's comfortable. It's cozy. It's security with health benefits and retirement plan and steady paycheck. It's also completely flat and not challenging.

This is the point that many people reach. They have a steady job, which is a blessing in this economy. They spend one quarter of the hours in their week (at least) doing something they don't enjoy, merely tolerate, or even possibly hate. One of my friends has been in a job he despises for the past three years, but has made no effort to try anything else. Why? Because the free time outside of work to do what he pleases should be enough. It's just something he has to get through, he says.

I say that is settling. That is not enough.

Yesterday I read an article on Zen Habits about passion. In it, Leo Babauta writes, "Most people don't believe you can do work you love because they're constantly around people who hate their jobs and don't know what excites them. This has to change." He's right. And I'm ready for a change. I look back on the last year and think about how stagnant my level of innovation has been, and how depleted and mediocre that makes me feel. I'm not looking for an escape; I'm looking to fuel what was driving me for so many years until a series of unfortunate events (divorce, car accident, cancer) brought that to a screeching halt.

Big change is scary. The trepidation is real, but so is the need to move past it. I've seen friends move all over the country (New York, Boston, Utah, California, Montana), and one friend even moved to Austria. Two of my friends are gearing up for a nationwide bicycle tour that involves quitting their jobs, selling most of their stuff, and living on the road. My girl crush Laura Calder worked in an office job but decided one day to abandon it and go to culinary school, and now she has several books and her own cooking show.

The fear of change is really the smallest part of the process... it's the steps necessary to get to a point where the leap is not foolish--- making the change happen--- that is filled with unknowns.

Many people don't take that leap. Some don't want to... they like the comfort of living less than 50 miles from where they grew up (on average). Others don't leave that comfort zone of familiarity because they don't know how or think it will be too difficult. I'm not saying people have to move away to find what they are looking for... just that some folks feel the calling to do so but don't follow through with it out of fear.

Ultimately, my seemingly insatiable wanderlust for visiting Iceland, swooning over boys in Quebec, buying fresh bread every day in France, and going on an epic US road trip --- has led me to believe that I can no longer find what I am looking for in my current situation. Unfortunately, I've grimly realized that I have settled. I settled in my marriage, I settled in my job, I settled in my living situation... I settled for "good enough." There is no uglier revelation.

Part 2 will explore what I intend to do about this.

What Does It All Mean?

2011-07-27T14:14:00.005-05:00

"Thanks for the blanket."

Last night I dreamed that I went camping with James Franco and a few other people. We found a flat dirt patch in the middle of a field. We laid down rocks along the dirt to keep our equipment from sinking, then used shovels to put a thin even layer of dirt over the rocks. While I washed my hands in the sink that magically appeared at one end of the field, the others build a massive sturdy king sized bed for us to sleep in. I asked what would happen if it started to rain. One of the other girls responded, "We'll just pull the covers over our heads." I felt relieved that I'd brought a waterproof sleeping bag. I let James Franco use my Ren & Stimpy blanket to keep warm. We all laid on the bed at different angles. Our friend Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz fell off of a wall and cracked her head open so we buried her in the dirt and left.

More Iceland

2011-07-26T16:19:00.004-05:00

Über wanderlust.

Dahmer's Poor Grandma

2011-07-25T10:46:00.006-05:00

Jeffrey Dahmer lived with his grandmother for several years, killing four of his victims at her house then dissolving their bodies in acid in her basement.

This house is one mile from where I live.

This past weekend marked the two-decade anniversary of Dahmer's arrest. He is listed on Wikipedia as one of the notable people to come out of the city of West Allis.

I read about what Dahmer did to each of his victims and I am completely fascinated while altogether horrified. How someone come up with such ideas and carry them out against other human beings? What goes on in a person's mind to generate such evil? No wonder his brain was kept for research after his death.

There are photos floating out there in the web world... I've seen them. Don't worry, I don't post any links to them here, ever. I've talked about my morbid curiosity in the past, and it got the best of me in this case... but I rather wish it hadn't. Yikes.

Dahmer's grandmother passed away in 1992, so I do not know who lives in the house these days.

Brfxxccxxmnpcccclllmmnprxvclmnckssqlbb11116

2011-07-22T10:35:00.004-05:00

New Zealand has decided to ban all weird baby names. Apparently Sweden has already passed a similar law.

My favorite was this line of the CNN news article:

"In Sweden, name choices are subject to a naming law. While Lego and Google have been approved as names for children, Superman, Metallica and Elvis, and the name Brfxxccxxmnpcccclllmmnprxvclmnckssqlbb11116, pronounced Albin, were not approved."

No offense, but what the fucking fuck are some parents thinking?

Three Months.

2011-07-21T15:15:00.004-05:00

My grandfather's melanoma spread from his skin to his lungs , and now to his liver and adrenal glands... all in less than one year's time. The doctor's prognosis is that he has three months to live.

At the age of 26, I should be blessed to say that I've never lost a family member. I've lost several friends, each of them very suddenly. I have no idea what it's like to watch someone I love march slowly towards his own expiration date.

My first reaction was one of hatred. I hated the cancer. I hated that it is going to take him away. Then I began to have feelings of fear. What if the cancer comes back in my mom like it did with my grandpa? What if I get it? What if my sister gets it? What if one of my many friends who goes tanning is diagnosed... and I have to go through this all over again? Then I started to panic. Three months is not long enough. I want more time! But how much more time would be enough? Would it be worth having him around longer if his quality of life were compromised? God gave him exactly the number of days with us that he was supposed to have. I need to accept that and enjoy the time I have with him while he is still here.

It's HOT.

2011-07-20T15:26:00.006-05:00

This is not news for the majority of the United States: we're in a heat wave right now. I am blessed to have an air-conditioned home and an air-conditioned office, but the stickiness of the air is still hard to bear.

I've decided to cope by making these yummy banana Nutella coconut treats (and then sticking them in the freezer!) before going to a concert at Shank Hall with my former neighbors. Rock on and stay cool, Milwaukeeans!

Eyelashes and Toddlers

2011-07-19T15:29:00.003-05:00

I took some time off of work this week to visit my grandparents... more notably my grandfather, who is battling cancer. I let them know I'd be stopping by, and was looking forward to having some alone time with them.

Unfortunately, they informed my cousin of my visit and she decided to come over with her son. She lives next door to them and can visit anytime, but I live over one hundred miles away and can't get back to see them as often.

She ended up monopolizing the entire conversation, talking about her budding career in eyelash extensions. Meanwhile, she allowed her two-year-old to run amok, screaming and shoving things off of table and climbing on counters. My poor grandma tried to keep him from trashing the house but I could tell it was hard for her to keep up. My grandpa just looked tired and annoyed by the chaos and noise. I barely got a word in edgewise, and neither did they.

I left feeling very exhausted and pissed off, feeling like the visit was a total waste. How disappointing.

27 New Things: Film Update #4

2011-07-18T15:29:00.005-05:00

Since my last film update regarding my 27 New Things project, I have watched the following films on the AFI Top 100 Movies list:

Gone With The Wind
Doctor Zhivago
2001: A Space Odyssey
Patton
Yankee Doodle Dandy

I was surprised how much I liked GWTW. It took three days to watch it because four hours was far too long so sit through just one film. I thought the entire structure of the film was excellent and had definitely stood the test of time.

2001 was stylish and felt very modern. I remember hearing about long periods of time passing without dialogue and was not sure how I would react to this, but I felt that it really worked here.

Doctor Z put me to sleep. Patton was a well-done film but I'm personally not into war movies. Yankee Doodle Dandy was a musical and I could see no reason that it was culturally, aesthetically, or historically significant (moreso than any other musical). Yawn... sorry, James Cagney.

The Dutch Mill Crepe

2011-07-15T15:36:00.004-05:00

Every year I check out the Bastille Days festivities downtown and have to get my annual Dutch Mill Crepe... otherwise known as a chocolate mousse crepe. I was invited to go with my former French classmates, which was great... until I ran into some former friends from church and wanted to chat with them. And then I encountered my old neighbors and was dying to catch up. Then I saw some current church friends and commiserated with them. A former co-worker was there and we met up to share some fried cheese curds (very French, I know).

I also went a second day, with a group of college friends... and ran into a bunch of friends from swing dancing, as well as my former French teacher. One might say I felt a little like a social whore, and I loved every minute of it. I guess French celebrations bring out the fun ones!

Hoop Spinning And Break Dancing

2011-07-14T23:48:00.002-05:00

I went to a dance club with a friend of mine tonight and was surprised at what we walked into. On one half of the floor, people were dancing with glowing hula hoops, spinning the from their necks, waists, hips, arms, knees, and ankles. On the other half were some young men break dancing. Later that evening, there was a break dance competition. I snagged some vide footage of it on my phone. Here are some photos of the event:

Never Gonna Keep Me Down

2011-07-13T15:48:00.006-05:00

They Might Be Giants (booooy) made an awesome cover of Chumbawamba's "Tubthumping." I hope they perform this when I see them at the Pabst Theatre in October!

Goodbye To "P"

2011-07-12T15:48:00.005-05:00

Twenty-four hours after spending a pleasant weekend in my hometown with "P," I received a text message from him telling me that he just wants to be friends. I asked him when he had come to that conclusion, and his response was "Oh, I've always known it wouldn't work out, but it's been fun."

Gee, thanks. Is that why he pursued me so intensely? Is that why he drove all the way here and fixed my stuff? I feel like I was led on, big time. It's too bad... he seems like a nice guy who has some growing up to do. Hopefully he's right and we will remain friends.

Wood Tape.

2011-07-11T15:48:00.002-05:00

One of the best stories I've read in a long time. A man's four-year-old son wants to go to the hardware store to buy some "wood tape."

The chain of events was highly entertaining and blew my mind.

Inspiration

2011-07-08T15:48:00.001-05:00

I want to be her today.

The Black Keys

2011-07-07T10:42:00.004-05:00

Cage The Elephant.

Florence And The Machine.

The Black Keys.

Summerfest.

Amazing Show!

Dear 16 Year Old Me

2011-07-06T10:42:00.003-05:00

A friend of mine sent me this video. He said it made him tear up and think of me.

I cried too.

(Love you, Mom and Grandpa.)

Tasting Echoes

2011-07-05T11:03:00.008-05:00

I was spontaneously invited to a pool party last night. The host was a friend of mine I hadn't seen in years. I wouldn't know anyone else at the party, but that didn't bother a social butterfly like me!

There were eight of us in all. Some left temporarily to pick up some yummy eats and fireworks. The rest of us swam and splashed and drank PBR (though I stuck to my trusty bottle of water). My friend showed me the fire pit he'd built in the woods behind his house, and took me a little further to show me where a tree had fallen over a creek. He said that tree fell down when he was little and it became his favorite place to hang out.

The boys returned with brats, veggies, and copious amounts of sparklers. One of the girls assigned herself the role of cook and steamed us some delicious veggie packets to go with our beer brats. The boys meticulously dismantled the sparklers and poured the flammable granules into an empty beer can to make a "sparkler bomb." Then they lit it and buried it in the ground, hoping for a massive explosion. There was a big puff of smoke and a little flame, and that was it. They seemed very pleased with themselves.

One of the girls told me about her experience with shrooms, where she could taste echoes ("they tasted like fruitflower") and how her friend believed she had transformed into a Smurf. Her story was engaging and completely hilarious. Then she taught me how to belly dance. Apparently I'm a fast learner because she was astonished at how quickly I picked up on the moves. I could really feel it after just a few minutes! Must do this more often.

These friends all know each other because they liquid dance and spin fire together. When the sun set, happy hardcore music came on the stereo and one of the guys broke out the poi, spinning as he walked around the pool. The Pewaukee city fireworks burst in the sky beside us as we lounged in the pool, surrounded by spinning fire, our bellies full of delicious grilled food. It was a perfect night.

My Cute Handyman

2011-07-04T11:02:00.004-05:00

The wonderful "P" came to visit me over the weekend. I made Julia Child's French Onion Soup and let it simmer all day. I made steak in the oven... a boneless ribeye seasoned only with salt and pepper and a tiny splash of brandy. I made cheesy chive scalloped potatoes (and lost the very tip of my pinky on the mandoline) covered in a decadent payer of caramelized onions. I'd made a flourless chocolate cake ahead of time, slowly melting the chocolate and butter together over a warm water bath. The food was a labor of affection, and was highly praised when it came time to eat. He told me no one besides his mother had ever cooked for him before.

He repaired and upgraded my weed trimmer by replacing the string with a plastic blade. He shoveled away all of the rotting leaves sitting on the cement slab behind my house (my almost-ex had stupidly dumped them there last fall). He assembled my charcoal grill for me. He replaced the belt on my lawnmower and repaired it. I was stunned by his generous helpfulness, and he said it was worth it to see how happy it made me. A sweet guy who appreciated my cooking and knows how to fix things? Swoon.

I'd been plenty productive myself before "P" paid me a visit: I washed all of my laundry and hung it on the line. I mowed the lawn with a busted mower. I weeded my garden. I dug up all of the sad-looking old hostas growing in my backyard. I mopped the floors and vacuumed the rugs. I take great pride in being a solo homeowner, and I enjoy working on things that need to be done. That being said, I often have to power through many tasks over a weekend because of my limited time throughout the week. In just a couple of hours, after everything "P" did for me, being a homeowner suddenly felt much less daunting. My mom affectionately referred to him as my "cute handyman."

Happy Canada Day!

2011-07-01T10:27:00.007-05:00

Back in grade school, my music teacher (and neighbor) Mrs. Erfurth taught my class both the US and Canadian national anthems. I don't know why she did this, but I am grateful for it. She passed away two years ago, but I still sing "O Canada" on this day every year! Makes me want to go back to that country even more than before. Happy birthday, Canada!

O Canada!
Our home and native land!
True patriot love in all thy sons command.
With glowing hearts we see thee rise,
The True North strong and free!
From far and wide,
O Canada, we stand on guard for thee.
God keep our land glorious and free!
O Canada, we stand on guard for thee.
O Canada, we stand on guard for thee.

Stephanie Plum: The Movie

2011-06-30T10:27:00.004-05:00

I'm a huge fan of the Janet Evanovich book series about a Jersey chick bounty hunter and her crazy adventures. I knew there had been talk of a film for some time, and a movie version of the first novel "One For The Money" was slated to be released this summer. It was pushed back so it wouldn't have to compete with other summer movies and is now scheduled to come out in January.

I'm actually rather excited for the film, despite my initial reaction at hearing that Katherine Heigl got the lead role. Looking at set photos has given me more confidence that she can pull off Plum's character, as long as she doesn't act too much like Katherine Heigl. Morelli, Ranger, Lula, and Vinnie all look like good casting choices. I'm super thrilled that Debbie Reynolds has been cast as Grandma Mazur! I thin she'll knock that role out of the park.

Just in case you live under a rock and have never heard of this great series, Stephanie Plum is a Jersey girl who gets laid off as a lingerie buyer and starts working as a fugitive apprehension agent at her cousin Vinnie's business in order to pay the bills. There are two very sexy men in her life: cop Joe Morelli, and fellow bounty hunter Ranger. Lula is a hooker who helps Stephanie (and, personally, she's my favorite character).

These novels are absolutely hilarious and I'm excited to see the movie when it comes out early next year. I doubt it will be nearly as good as the book, but that's why I read the series first. I'm going through them all again to refresh before the film's release.

LIES

2011-06-29T10:26:00.002-05:00

Oh, how I love Invader Zim.

Kitchen Flood!

2011-06-28T10:26:00.005-05:00

Lately, my dishwasher has been filled with standing water. I haven't had much of a need for it now that I live on my own, but I have tried to run it a few times to get the water out... all in vain.

I was washing my dishes by hand when the sink began to back up and fill with water. I figured there must be something in the garbage disposal so I ran it. The water rushed out of the disposal side and spouted like a geyser from the drain on the other side of the sink! I resorted to using a plunger but all it did was transfer the water from one half of the sink to another. I then decided to pplug one side of the sink and use the plunger, hoping to force out whatever was clogging the pipe. The water then rushed into the dishwasher (which was already filled with standing water) and it flooded all over my floor. The pergo floor went *squish squish* as I walked, water burping up from between the seams in the floor. Greeeeat.

I called my sister's new father-in-law, a retired plumber who lives nearby. After attempting to snake the pipe with no luck, he filled the sink with water and attempted to plunge the hell out of it. When that didn't work he put a clamp on the pipe and said he'd come back tomorrow. After he left, the pressure from the water being plunged into the pipe caused the clamp to fly off and water sprayed all over my kitchen! I used every towel in my house to clean it up. By now it was very late, so I just threw them in the laundry room to deal with them in the morning.

The next day he came back while I was at work. When I came home for lunch, the kitchen floor was soaked. My basement linoleum was covered in water. Water streamed along the wall in the closet, soaking my Christmas decorations. Water dripped from the ceiling tiles and vents. What the hell was happening? I just jumped into action, removing boxes from the closet and fetching bedsheets to absorb the mess.

Eventually he cut the pipe, removed about eight inches of compacted gunk (probably from years or accumulation) and fastened a new piece of PVC pipe to the existing ancient copper pipe. I managed to clean up the water mess, but my kitchen floor had already warped beyond repair. I'm going to need to get a new kitchen floor now. Eventually I will have to re-plumb the entire house, and I knew that was inevitable... but this was more than I expected to deal with. Also, there is still standing water in my freaking dishwasher.

City Mouse

2011-06-27T10:26:00.005-05:00

City vs. Country: Who is Healthier?

I come from a long line of country mice. My grandparents were farmers and owned lots of land in the country. My parents are business owners who own lots of land in the country. My sister and her new husband want to someday own land and build a house in the country.

And then there's me... dreaming of high-rise apartments with massive floor-to-ceiling windows to gaze at spectacular views of skyscrapers and sunsets. While they dream of wide open spaces and relish the small town joy of cracking open a beer in a small tavern where everyone knows each other, I'm fantasizing about getting dressed up and going to a themed lounge for an elaborate fruity cocktail with with a few of my gorgeous lady friends.

I think city life is great and can't imagine anything better. I can, however, do without the suburbs and their strip malls and perfectly manicured lawns. People in suburbs seem to feel the need to keep up with the Joneses and acquire and own more stuff, have the best and nicest stuff, and feel compelled to show off said stuff.

Why are my tastes so different? Who knows... I do believe there are some advantages to both environments, which this article from Miss Minimalist outlines rather well. But I also just prefer urban living.

The Best Meals

2011-06-24T10:26:00.007-05:00

As a self-proclaimed foodie, I take the art of nosh very seriously. Sure, I can enjoy Velveeta Shells & Cheese with sliced hot dogs as much as the next person, but I truly have an appreciation for the amount of consideration and effort that goes into quality food. I prefer to eat food made from quality ingredients, and crafted by people who respect those ingredients. This is why I'd rather eat my own cooking than go to Applebee's any day.

Today, I became nostalgic and began to recall the greatest meals I've ever had the pleasure of tasting. Remembering these experiences (because food is indeed an experience as much as it is a necessity) keeps me motivated to keep cooking and baking instead of falling into the rut of resorting to convenience food.

The Town Club. I used to work here as a server for about one year while I was in college. The staff would always get to eat off the menu for dinner and most of the food was wonderful. Occasionally, however, there would be a daily special... and if it didn't sell out but there were too few remaining to make it a recurring special, the staff would get dibs. One day, the special was a black-and-white sesame seed-encrusted monchong fillet drizzled with Thai peanut sauce. There was only one left, and both the club manager and I wanted it. Tom was a good manager, a kind man who only playfully bartered with me for the fillet before ultimately relinquishing it to me. I am forever grateful. It was such a gorgeous piece of fish... I'd never seen black sesame seeds before, and the duality between the colors was very pleasing to the eye. The peanut sauce was darker in color than what I'd expected, and had a little kick to it. The fish was perfectly cooked and fell apart in my mouth. I've never seen monchong on a menu anywhere since. This was the most memorable and most amazing meal I've ever had. This fish was life-changing.
Bacchus. No surprise to see this restaurant on the list, as it's a high-end Bartolotta restaurant (a well-known name here in Milwaukee). I ordered the veal ravioli with spinach and toasted pine nuts, as per the recommendation of the waiter. It is offered both as a small plate and as an entree, so I opted for the latter. It was amazing. The veal was so tender and the white sauce was so subtle yet creamy in texture. I didn't leave anything on my plate. I even ordered dessert!
Lake Park Bistro. Another Bartolotta Restaurant. I ordered the French Onion Soup. I actually dreamed about this soup after trying it. I've already documented this experience.
Sous-Le-Fort. My mother and I randomly wandered into this quaint bistro in Quebec City. The special that day was "Root Beer Ribs" served over pommes frites. The ribs had been marinated in ginger and root beer, and the carbonation made them very tender. The sauce tasted nothing like root beer, but the flavor was incredible and the meat fell off the bone. The fries underneath absorbed the extra sauce, but there was also delicious mayo to dip them in (the French and Canadian French usually opt for flavored mayo over ketchup).
Capri. This little hole-in-the-wall Italian restaurant is just a few blacks form my home. Prices are incredibly reasonable... almost cheaper than making it yourself. The lasagna is to die for! One serving comes bubbling in its own white casserole dish and is probably sufficient for three people. Sometimes I order this to go and devour it shamelessly on my couch. Also, the garlic bread should be appointed its own food group. Seriously.
Mom's Cooking. Duh. Her homemade bread and pasta sauce are tough to beat.

My Posture Sucks

2011-06-23T14:43:00.005-05:00

Most of my day is spent slouched a desk. Then I go home and slouch in front of my computer or my television, slouch over a stove to prepare my dinner, slouch while playing guitar, then slouch in the shower.

It wasn't until I recently attended a yoga class that I became aware of just how poor my posture had become. The instructor showed the class how to wrap a yoga band around our back and shoulders to serve as a stretching mechanism and to help us feel how to hold our upper body during Mountain Pose. It really opened up my ribcage and breathing felt much easier. I also looked skinnier in the mirror. How about that, eh?

I'm an ambitious gal; I'm a full-time working, part time freelancing, evening kick-boxing, house-repairing machine who's designing her amazing Halloween costume while fighting against time to fit into it, all while whittling away at her 27 New Things list... and now I've decided to add "practice good posture" to the agenda. Really, couldn't we all stand and sit up a little straighter?

I recently saw an elderly man walk through the food court of a mall. I couldn't help but notice how erect his body was as he walked... something I don't see in most elderly folks. he walked with an air of pride, as if to say "I'm grateful I can still stand up straight and I'm going to show it off!" I want to be that old man instead of a hunched over twenty-something.

I read that a good trick is to bring a tennis ball to work and use your back to hold the tennis ball in place against the back of the chair. I don't have a tennis ball at work right now, but I have been trying to balance a book on my head while I type. It's a tricky maneuver.

Plug-In Baby

2011-06-22T18:13:00.007-05:00

Today I finally bought an amp for my Gibby. It was so empowering as a woman to walk into a music shop full of men, pick out exactly what I was looking for--- some new sets of strings, a Peavey cable, and my Marshall amp--- without any assistance from anyone. I also just ordered a Roland GP-100 processor online so I can make all sorts of nifty sounds without investing in a bunch of pedals.

Nothing can describe the feeling of pure joy when I flipped the switch and heard her sound fill the room for the first time. It made me want to learn everything about what she can do all at once. I didn't want to leave the house, I didn't want to put her down. It was like I'd been reunited with a lost appendage, found my missing piece... and now I was complete.

Bryan Adams wrote this song about his guitar.

Also, I'm pretty sure Matthew Bellamy had the same idea. And now I understand...

Garden Update

2011-06-21T10:20:00.005-05:00

Everything's growing! My tomato plant is skyrocketing. The green beans tripled in size overnight, I swear. The beets, lettuce, and carrots are growing nicely. A few jalapeños are budding. My herbs are outstanding! I plucked a bunch of tarragon from my windowsill last night to add to my steak dinner. I love having a house and a yard and a garden. =)

My Sister's Wedding

2011-06-20T10:19:00.006-05:00

My little sister got married over the weekend. She's the only sibling I have, and even though she's been a mom for four years, an adult for five years, and a business woman for one year, in my eyes she's still my kid sister who drags around a ragged blue pillow and has to watch Dumbo every morning.

Today I got to walk down the aisle holding my little nephew's hand. His father, the groom, teared up when he was his son walk towards him, beaming in his tiny tailored tuxedo. Then when my sister appeared he lost all composure. It was sweet to see how much he still loves her after nine years together. At one point during the ceremony, my nephew wanted to be picked up, so my sister held him, perched on her hip, in her wedding dress at the altar of a church, holding hands with the man about to become her husband. It was an adorable family moment.

I finally lost it when they exchanged vows, he looked her in the eyes and told her he would be faithful to her until death parts them. It was hard not to think about the failure of my own marriage at that moment, about how those same words had been said to me but they didn't mean anything. I paid close attention to the groom's face as he said these words to my sister. I loved how genuine he was with her; his eyes never moved from hers. And that devotion is exactly what she deserves.

There was a bit of a scare when the wedding party went bar-hopping between the ceremony and reception. We realized we were being followed by a man in a green SUV. My sister and her husband, true to form, confronted the driver when he pulled into the reception parking lot. All of the groomsmen and ushers surrounded the vehicle. My cousin (one of the bridesmaids) and I ran towards the vehicle in our heels as fast as we could to offer support. The third bridesmaid stood back and cried and whimpered the whole time. Yeesh.

The man would not roll down his window to talk to the groom. I had a nasty feeling in the pit of my stomach. The driver peeled out of the lot in a hurry, and we all got a good look at him and his license place. He didn't come back. We later learned he was a private investigator hired to spy on the groom's dad regarding an injury settlement. He was quite the shitty PI because he followed the wrong people (his dad wasn't part of the group) and he got caught. How tacky to spy on a man at his son's wedding!

"P" came to the reception and was more than happy to help me with my maid of honor duties. He assisted me with boxing up leftover cupcakes and sandwiches at the end of the night, and helped me carry all of the gifts in my room for safekeeping until they would be opened in the morning. He was an all-around gentleman: he bought my drinks for me, danced with me, fended off a drunk guy, and tried to make nice with my dad... who drunkenly advised him, "I don't think I have to tell you this, but she's my daughter. You've been warned. Enough said." My aunt pulled me aside when she saw me with "P" and told me I had great taste. My mother told me to invite him to the gift opening the next day. My tipsy grandparents caught me kissing him in the elevator, told me how proud they were of me, hugged me, and told me to go have fun.

Congrats to Kate and Randy! (And Keagan!)

This Post Brought To You By The Letter "P"

2011-06-17T16:23:00.004-05:00

Story time!

Earlier this month, I hosted my sister's wedding shower and bachelorette party. She wanted the whole shebang with limo rental and bar hopping all over the area and fancy dresses and hotel rooms for the night. I made all of this happen, of course, and there were six of us slated to ride out the night in a fancy-pants limousine.

In a small town like ours, everyone knows almost everyone. My sister was thrilled to discover that one of her friends was going to be our limo driver. I'd heard of the guy before; he and I would have graduated the same year in high school, but he moved out of state just as I moved to the town. Therefore, all of my classmates knew of him, and many (including my sister's fiancé) are still friends with him now that he lives back in the area. We'll call this guy "P."

"P" arrived early at the local bar we were patronizing so he could hang out with my sister and the other gals he knew. I introduced myself as the older sister then went back to chatting with my aunt (she'd attended the shower and came out for one drink before heading home). We all filed into the limo and were greeted by a naked male blow-up doll with certain very exaggerated anatomical proportions. "P" brought it as a gift/joke for the party.

As the girls screamed loudly to bad music and drank Bud Light by the bottle as we careened from tiny town to tiny town, gracing the small bars and taverns with our presence. At one point, my sister handed me a gold-foil-wrapped condom, and when I gave her a bewildered look, she explained, "It's from the driver. He said he thinks you're going to need this tonight." I looked up at him eying me in the rear-view mirror. Greeeeeat, I thought.

We stayed a little longer at one of the bars so a few of the girls could sing karaoke. At this point, "P" asked me to fill out the payment paperwork for the evening since I had made the reservation, and he began to strike up a conversation. He was friendly but his approach was very cocky, giving me the impression that he was used to getting whatever he wants all the time. My own sister had hit on him back in the day, long before she met her fiancé. He had a reputation that preceded my introduction to him--- clearly, he was a fan of the ladies, and I had no time for someone like that. I had a drunk sister to babysit!

Throughout the evening I watched "P" flirt harmlessly but shamelessly with each of the girls, fully enjoying the fact that they were all wearing revealing dresses and had high levels of alcohol in their bloodstreams. He even continued to try it with me, but I was sober and knew better. At one point in the evening he was patting my ass as I got in and out of the vehicle.

Then the limo broke down. It just plain overheated. We were stuck in a gas station parking lot for a good half hour, waiting for it to cool down so it could get us to the hotel. It overheated again as we pulled into the hotel parking lot. "P" called his boss to get a ride home, but his boss was strung out on cocaine and was screaming incoherently into the phone. "P" would have to stay in the hotel with us.

I checked the girls into our rooms, and four of them took one room while my sister, "P" and I took the room next door. My very drunk little sis passed out as soon as her head hit the pillow. I went into the bathroom, washed the make-up off my face, changed into a tank top and pajamas and climbed in comfortably next to her. "P" decided to swan dive into our bed, lying between us, making some stupid comment about having a threesome with two sisters. I snapped my finger and pointed to the other bed, telling him "Git," much like I would to a disobedient dog. He snuggled up next to me and I told him to "git" again. He then kissed me before climbing into the other bed.

The next morning, my sister woke up and groaned, "I feel bad because I didn't say goodbye to 'P' last night."
I groggily replied, "You can tell him now.... he's right there."
She sat up with a start when she saw him lying there. "Holy shit! That's right, the limo broke down!"
"P" grinned and said "Goooooood morning ladies!" Ugh.

We all went downstairs for the continental breakfast. He sat down next to me and asked what time I was stopping by his place later that day. I told him I wasn't. He took my hand, looked into my eyes, and said "Seriously, come over."
I pulled my hand away and said "Seriously, you don't seem to understand what 'no' means. Has anyone ever told you 'no' before?"
He smiled that big, charming grin of his. "Not really."
"Well consider this a first, then."

Wait... were we actually exchanging some sexually tense witty banter? I was dating "J" at the time (and we all know how THAT turned out) so I was not interested in fraternizing with anyone else. Crap, was I actually starting to warm up to this guy? His tenacity had been such a turn-off, but he really wasn't being a jerk about it and maybe I kind of sort of liked the attention and... Then I snapped out of it. I just needed to go home.

My dad picked us all up and drove us back into town, where everyone filed out and to their respective cars. My sister offered to give "P" a ride home. He grinned at me as I rode away with my dad.

I hadn't been back at my parents' house for more than a few minutes when I got a text message asking "When can I see you again?" It was him! He'd looked up my phone number on the limo forms. This guy was persistent, no doubt about that.

"I'm going back to Milwaukee," I responded.
"Can you please stop over before you leave?"
"No, I can't."
"Can you at least meet me for lunch or ice cream or something? Please?"

I'm not sure if it was the "please" he threw in there, or if he was finally wearing me down, but I actually agreed to meet him for ice cream. One hour, that's it.

A short time later, my sister called me to tell me that "P" had inquired about me the whole time she was driving him home. "She's not like most of the girls I meet around here," he said to her. "She's really smart. I'm interested in knowing more about her... she could teach me things, I bet. I hope she gives me a chance because it's rare to meet a girl like her." I'm smart? Yes, this is true... but that's usually not the first thing guys, uh, notice about me.

I met up with him in town and he bought my ice cream, and then we sat outside and enjoyed our frozen treats and chatted with each other. The hour went by quickly. We ended up taking a walk and passing a young child's lemonade stand. "P" bought a lemonade for me and one for himself, and tipped the kid $10. We stopped by my sister's house and surprised her and her hungover fiancé. She seemed rather delighted at the idea that "P" and I were hanging out together.

On our way back to my car, we were greeted or waved to by virtually everyone that went by. It was a completely new experience for me, having become used to the anonymity of living in a bustling urban area. Here, a person can't step in dog poo without it being mentioned in the local newspaper. People would pull over in their cars and talk to "P," and suddenly I felt like some no-name girlfriend of an A-list celebrity with tabloids covering our every move. Since he works with the EMTs and Fire Department, and his roommate is a police officer, and he grew up here, he knows virtually everyone in town by name. And none of these people have anything bad to say about him.

I haven't seen him since then, but we have corresponded over the phone regularly. He has asked to be my "date" to my sister's wedding tomorrow, and I agreed to dance with him a few times. I emphasized that being a supportive sis and maid of honor comes first.... but I'm willing to give him a chance.

Salon Is Gone

2011-06-16T13:01:00.000-05:00

I tried to call my hairstylist (a middle-aged grumpy British man with great taste in music) to set up a appointment for a cut and style, and no one answered the phone! I stopped by the salon only to find the doors closed and everything cleared out. I'm so sad they've closed! Now where am I going to get fantastic British humor along with my haircut?

Miracle!

2011-06-15T10:19:00.005-05:00

The bridesmaid dress fiasco has been weighing heavily on my mind for days. My stomach's behavior has been reflecting my internal turmoil. How was I ever going to tell my sister that I, her maid of honor, had no dress to wear on her wedding day?

I tried calling the the tailor show many times, leaving several frantic messages. I went to other stores in the plaza asking if anyone knew the tailor's full name or contact information. One store (a video game shop full of geeky boys who were more than happy to assist me) gave me the number of the building's landlord. Unfortunately, the landlord's voice mail inbox was completely full and I could not leave a message with them.

After sobbing in my car and getting nowhere fast, I decided to switch tactics. I began calling every bridal shop within a 100-mile radius of my home to see if they carried the same dress in their store. My goal was to find a sample dress that happened to be the same color as what I needed. The sash may not be the same color, but I figured that as the maid of honor I could get away with looking slightly different. I wasn't having much luck with this method, either.

One kind woman named Connie at a shop in Racine had a dress by the same designer in the same color but it was made from chiffon fabric instead of satin. I eventually decided that this was my best chance at having a dress for my sister's wedding. I took off work and drove to Racine to buy the chiffon sample dress. It fit me perfectly (hooray for being average size!) and the color was spot-on.

I then drove to a fabric store and bought some black satin fabric. I took the dress and the fabric to another seamstress in the area and begged her to please make me a sash for this dress within 24 hours. She agreed, and also had to hem the dress to hide the word "SAMPLE" that had been stitched at the bottom.

I was at the bank this afternoon--- my last stop before going to pick up my "new" dress--- when I recognized the phone number on my caller ID trying to reach me. It was the tailor shop currently holding my original dress hostage! The husband of the tailor was on the other end of the line; he said his wife and daughter went to Europe but he had been sick and unable to go, and by chance he went to check on the store and heard my messages. He said I could come pick up the dress right now if I wanted to. I don't think my feet touched the ground as I flew from the bank to my car.

When I arrived to pick up my dress, the man gave me a very hard time. He scolded me for not picking up the dress at the appointed time. I told him I'd been in a car accident and that's why I was late. He then told me I should have called someone like a boyfriend or a co-worker to pick it up for me. He was trying to make this all MY fault! I just ignored his comments and asked how much I owed for the dress. His answer was, "A lot, because I had to make a special trip for you." Yeah, well buddy, I happened to look you up and know that you live right around the corner, so that's utter bullshit. He did not, in fact, attempt to charge me extra, but I did not appreciate the comments. It was not until I had the dress next to me in my car that I called and gave my mom the wonderful news.

Now I have two dresses when earlier I had none. I had to buy and pay for alterations on them both. I am now very, very poor. I am also very, very tired and very, very grateful. And my sister never had to know about any of it! I believe this entire ordeal deserves a spot on my résumé.

Darth Vader Trombone Time

2011-06-14T11:49:00.000-05:00

There is a Force with him... though I'm not sure what it is.

Shall We Kiss?

2011-06-13T15:48:00.003-05:00

I won a poster for this movie, which I saw at the Milwaukee Film Festival one year. I had to answer a question about who I thoght the most complex cinematic couple of all time was... and I chose Rhett Butler and Scarlett O'Hara from "Gone With The Wind." The picture of the man's hand on the woman's boob cracks me up.... and their facial expressions!

I just added this movie to my instant queue on Netflix. I really enjoyed it and look forward to watching it again. And, of course, it's French. =)

Friday Weigh-In: 166.5

2011-06-10T21:15:00.006-05:00

The last 24 hours have been an absolute nightmare.

"J" dumped me last night. I really liked him. I was completely blindsided.

I was in another car accident. My supervisor was driving a company truck, and I was the passenger. We we hauling A/V equipment to one of the high schools to set up for the graduation ceremony, when he collided with a van. It was only a minor accident and no one was hurt, but the truck was not drivable and I had to stand around and wait to give a statement to the police officer.

Therefore, I was late getting to the tailor shop to pick up the bridesmaid dress for my sister's wedding. They were closed when I got there. Taped to the door was a sign scrawled in marker that said "Closed until June 20th. Thanks for your business." My sister's wedding is June 18th. Now I have no dress. I don't dare tell my sister because I want to try to fix this before her big day. I hate that I, the maid of honor, am probably going to let her down.

I came home to find an ant infestation in my office and a flooded dishwasher in my kitchen. Any weight I lost this week was probably just my hope disintegrating.

It's Unfortunate...

2011-06-09T23:48:00.000-05:00

The saddest song I know.