I think this might be called a bucket list

Sometimes other bloggers tag me for memes. Sometimes i do them. I'm going to do this one before i forget. It's from Candy, over at Candy's Corner. Candy is no poodle, but i'm not sure why.

I am to list eight things i want to do before i die. Whilst reading Candy's list, i naturally started thinking about what would be on my list. Then i saw she had tagged me. Damn! Be careful what you wish for.

I was struck by how none of the things on her list would be on mine. No fucking way would i want to own a restaurant.

Here goes:

1) Be in good enough shape to hike up Mt. Fuji. I'm not sure i want to hike up Mt. Fuji, but i'd like to be able to if i did.

2) Snorkel in the Galapagos. This might actually happen as i am starting to talk with a friend about maybe going there next year. How cool would that be? This is one of the benefits of being a woman of leisure. Although that makes me sounds a little like a prostitute. Sadly, i have never received money in exchange for sex.

3) Write a book. The trouble with this goal is that i am lazy. Writing a book would be a lot of work, and i hate work. As a woman of leisure, work is for other people. But you never know, i might. I'm not sure i even care if it gets published, just that i would write it. I have no talent or stomach for the self-promotion that would be required to write a book that actually sold.

4) Be braver. This morning at 8 am Em got into a car with 4 other girls and headed off to see something called Warp Tour. She won't be home until tomorrow. The Mister is right-now-this-very-minute on an airplane winging his way to India. I am anxious as hell. I couldn't have told The Mister he couldn't go. I could have told Em she couldn't go, but i didn't. I wish these sorts of things didn't make me so nervous. Odds are that everything will be fine. People fly to far off places and go to drug-frenzied rock concerts all the time. Right?

5) Learn to cook. Or maybe it would be more accurate to say, Learn to Like to cook. I like eating well enough, and i do cook, but i do not love it. It's a means to an end, eating. To me it seems depressing to spend 2 hours (or whatever) lovingly creating a meal, and then having it all eaten in 20 minutes or less. Then there's the dishes.

6) Make a fucking quilt. That means shop for the fabric, design the thing, cut out the pieces, sew them together in a different formation, add sashing, pay someone else to do the actual quilting and put binding on it. Not just buy the pretty fabric.

7) Learn to count.

Navel gazing

I am here:

Drinking this:
Eating this:
(He looks like he is hugging the mashed potatos for safety. Didn't work, i ate him anyway.)

Looking at patterns caused by grass and wind and sand:
I'm thinking about brutal honesty.

Many years ago i read that when being brutally honest, you should make sure that you are enjoying the honesty more than the brutality.

This has stuck with me, because i suspect, no, i know it for a fact, that there are times when i enjoy the brutality. It's an easy way to strike out, with the built in defense of honesty. Truth is a defense against libel, right?

What am i accomplishing with this honesty? I am usually striking out in a moment of anger, or hurt. (Being hurt makes me angry.) So i am making myself feel temporarily better. I can usually carry around the self-righteous justification for my brutal honesty for quite a while. I am nothing if not stubborn.

But as to what i am really accomplishing, the answer is more complex. Time to turn the brutally honest beam upon myself. Any other use of it is strictly forbidden going forward.

In which i go for a hike

THE GOOD:

Cool rock formations.

Kim demonstrating the proper downhill technique.

The snow.

PIKA! Wookit him's widdle ears!

The view from the top.

Trees and boulders.

Someone with whom to share my lunch.

Things i almost mistook for lemon gummy bears.

Ibuprofen. (Vitamin I)

THE BAD:

Bee sting.

Fucking assholic hikers who leave their trash behind.

Old knees.

THE UGLY:

Look how Smokey is holding his nose!

Jabba the Hutt?

Pay attention to the cats

A picture of my cats, in order to distract you from this post. Is it working?

This is odd, because i consider myself an expert at anticipatory grief. I can get myself all worked up, sometimes to the point of tears, with my 'what-ifs.'

Em is leaving for college in less than a month, and i am totally in denial about how sad i am going to be.

The two of us went to see Mamma Mia this week. (A movie you don't need to actively avoid, but you don't need to seek it out either.) There is one scene where the mother is helping the daughter get ready for her wedding and it is a tender, poignant moment (at least for those of you without my cold, black heart.) At my side, i hear Em sniffling a little, but i resist mightily because, dammit! I will not be manipulated by Hollywood. So i just got a little misty-eyed, undetectable to any other movie patron. Whew.

In the car after the movie, Em asks if i noticed her crying. I lied and said "No." She proceeded to burst into tears with "How am i going to leave you? I'm going to miss you so much! I don't want to go." She cried for a good 5 minutes whilst i said what i hoped were comforting things.

We continued on, went grocery shopping and went home. Em disappeared upstairs.

When she came down an hour or so later, she apologized for crying.

"My God!" i said, "don't apologize. It's scary out there and you know i'm going to miss the hell out of you too."

"Yeah, that scene hit a little close to home for me," she continued. "You are basically my best friend."

I may have wept, a little, then.

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Here's the deal. I know she has to go. I believe that it's a good thing she's going. She's going to learn SO much and grow SO much and she can't do that with me there. I know all this. I feel SO LUCKY to have a daughter who likes me, and i continue to be amazed that such a relationship can exist between any mother and daughter.

She's making it harder for me to continue in my little bubble of denial, but my will is strong.

Marriage tip from Meno

The Mister and i were at a party recently and we were chatting amiably with some friendly strangers, as one must do at parties, when they discovered that we had been married for 26 years.

(An aside, i do not like going to parties with The Mister, and usually i manage to avoid him when i do, but we were eating and i was trapped. I don't like going to parties with him for two reasons; because he takes over the conversation and is touchy about what i say, so i tend to try and not say anything.)

So the other two people, who had been together for about 6 months, smiled at each other with googly eyes, asked the inevitable question: What is your advice for staying together?

(The irony of them asking us for relationship advice is that i was busy thinking dark thoughts about The Mister because i couldn't get a word in edgewise.)

The Mister answered them with something about listening and humor and trust, all that true but treacly stuff.

If i had answered, this would have been what i said:

FOR GOD'S SAKE GET TWO SINKS IN YOUR BATHROOM!

My friend = her mentor

I went hiking last weekend with my friend Eileen and The Mister. Em really likes Eileen, so i used Eileen's presence to entice her to go hiking with us. (I try and sneak exercise into Em's day through whatever devious methods i can think of.)

Eileen is about 20 years younger than i am, which makes her much cooler than i in Em's eyes. During the last part of the hike, The Mister and i could hear Em and Eileen chattering away behind us. It pleases me a lot that Em has adults other than boring old mom and dad who like her and listen to her and to whom she looks up.

It's important in a young person's life to have these people. People you know will give good advice and say things that you are okay with her hearing. And that your child might actually listen to because it isn't you who said it.

(I will say that Em listens to me pretty well, but it's always nice to have reinforcement.)

The Mister and i smiled that Indulgent Parent Smile at one another and kept out of their way.

In which i expose my own ass

No there will not be any pictures you perverts.

I seem to be on a roll lately with the ass posts. In keeping with that, i will now report on my first experience with Colon Cam yesterday.

When you turn a certain age, doctors go nuts. Mammograms, heart tests, and last and most fun, Colon Cam!

I found the idea of this so mortifying that i would have avoided it using the Nancy Reagan tactic of "Just Say No", except that my doctor, who is younger than i am, has had this done several times since she has a family history of colon cancer. So i pretty much had too.

Some thoughts:

* [begin rant] It speaks volumes about our fucked up health care system that i would be considered a candidate for this invasion. I have no symptoms and no family history. It cost about $2,500 for the procedure. I am lucky enough to have health insurance that pays for this, but not everyone does. It pisses me off that only insured people have access to preventative medicine. If you are poor, you better not get sick. Vote accordingly y'all. [end rant]

* The preparation involves a special diet and drinking this horrid liquid that leaves you clean as a whistle, inside and out. Yes, it's about as much fun as it sounds. Butt hey, i lost 4 pounds in 2 days!

* It's a little weird meeting people and knowing that in a few minutes they will be sticking a flexible camera tube up your ass.

* When the doctor came in and introduced himself, i didn't want to shake his hand, as i didn't know where those hands had been.

* Afterwards, they give you pictures. Pictures! In Color! Of the inside of my large intestine! I don't have a real problem with this as i am the curious type, butt they could have at least assked first. Also i bet they charged the insurance company $200 or so for my copy of the pictures. (See rant above.) Maybe i'll carry them in my wallet to impress new friends. "Hi, i'm meno, want to see some picture of me?"

* The drugs are awesome. I floated home in a haze of relaxed happiness, ate a hamburger and took a nap.


Results?

I am the perfect ass.

Butt we already knew that.

The Things We Do for Love

I love my daughter. Now i have proof of that love that no one can deny.

Last night i committed this act of pure love:

Yes. Yes i did. I took Em to see the American Idols Live! show. (I apologize for the crappy picture, but it was DARK in there.)

I expected there to be much merchandising and tackiness and sales pitches, but i never expect it to be as much as it is. There was even an intermission so they could make us listen to pitches for more sponsors.

You can see by the ticket that the event was sponsored by Pop Tarts. So naturally there was a person dressed as a Pop Tart milling around. I did not take a picture of the giant Pop Tart because too many other people were and i didn't want to give the Pop Tart the satisfaction. That'll teach it!

I spent some time amusing myself with my camera and was able to add to my collection of ass cracks in public photography collection.

Yes, of course you can see:

In all honesty, i must admit that i enjoyed the show. These kids can really sing.

But the best part was listening and watching Em have so much fun. She sang along, she screamed, she clasped her hands to her bosom in happiness. She held up her cell phone so that her friends could "hear" their favorite songs. She chattered 50 miles an hour the whole way home. It was great

What an ass

I came home the other day to find a mostly submerged paddle boat nudging our beach.

"Oh, how sad," i thought, "someone lost their paddle boat. I better go rescue it and maybe they'll come by, see it and take it home."

I started bailing out the wells, and trying to tug it up onto the beach. It weighed a ton. I would bail a little, tug a little and then bail a little more. One of my neighbors saw me struggling and came over to help. (Neighbor man is kind of cute, so that was fun!) Together we managed to drag it up on the beach.

There was a big gash along one side. "It must have gotten damaged in the water," said i to neighbor man.

"Hmmmm," neighbor man replied. (Perhaps he's from Minnesota.)

Then i noticed all the regularly sized square holes all along the side and sprinkled across the top.

Apparently the real story is that someone decided they were tired of their paddle boat, took a railroad spike and drove it repeatedly through the boat and pushed it out into the water. As if something made of plastic and Styrofoam would actually sink.

Now we have to chain saw the bitch apart, as i cannot lift the whole thing, rent a truck and take it to the dump. I briefly contemplated pushing it back out and letting someone else deal with it. But that's not how i roll, dammit.

Thanks jerk.

Y'all can help by thinking bad karma thoughts about whomever pulled this stupid stunt.

No Good Deed Goes Unpunished

I volunteer at an agency that does counseling for kids. Kids with drug problems and/or family problems. Kids with no money. The term for these kids is "at-risk." I don't work with the kids, as i am not qualified, but i do other stuff that helps the place out, because i believe that all kids deserve to be taken care of as best we can.

The agency just started a summer program that takes some of the kids to various places in the community for free. Places like the zoo and the aquarium and hiking.

Last week i noticed that they didn't have enough adults to supervise the next week's activity, when they were going to go hiking, and i like hiking, so i volunteered to go.

However, last Thursday dawned with rain, lightening and thunder, the likes of which are rarely seen around here, so hiking was out. But i had to go anyway, because without me they didn't have enough adults.

Shit!.

We took the kids to a museum. Here are a few of the comments:

"This is stupid."
"I'm bored."
"I've already been here."
"When are we leaving?"
"Do we have to stay here?"

Honestly, the kids had a pretty good time, but these are kids with behavior and attitude problems, so they complain. And complain. Along with all the other normal but obnoxious behaviors of a group of pre-teen mostly boys. (Spitting, cursing, endless fart references, punching each other, throwing things.)

But i survived, and was grateful to get back to the agency. One of the counselors asked me how it went.

"You know," i replied, "I don't really like kids."

"Who does?" he answered.

Cheered me right up.

Honey i shrunk my world

I see how it begins.

You don't want to drive downtown anymore, because the traffic scares you. So you stop. You still go downtown, but you take the bus. But only during the day, because at night there are scary people on the bus. And not during rush hour as it's crowded and you might have to stand.

Driving at night is difficult because you don't see well in the dark, so you stop going places at night, unless it's somewhere close with which you are familiar.

Remembering the directions to new places is hard, and so is seeing the street signs. Why don't they make them bigger? Your kids tell you to use Google Maps, but you can't figure out how. They show you, but it just never works when you try it.

Crowds annoy you. So you start planning things so as to avoid them. Go to the county fair? No way! It's hot and noisy and crowded. Plus the food is overpriced.

Hey, you can get the early bird special at Anthonys if you get there before 6:00 pm. Cool. Plus it's not dark then, or crowded. Triple score.

The other cars on the freeway are driving past you like you are standing still. Why is everyone in such a hurry? Now you don't drive on the freeway at all. It's not safe.

After a while you just stop going anywhere at night, it's just not worth getting in the car.

Next you make a mental list of the 5 places you are still comfortable going.
1) Grocery Store (plan ahead to avoid going on the weekend or after work. If you go then, all the little carts that you like are being used.)
2) Post Office (but not at noon, or after three. There's always a line then.)
3) The Mall (but only on a weekday during the middle of the day, otherwise the crowds are hideous.)
4) Mexican Restaurant just up the street (before 6pm, after that there might be a wait.)
5) Library. (It's closed on Tuesdays though, and you would never go there on the weekend.)


I watched The Mister's parents go through this process and now i am watching my parents go through it. They are still pretty adventurous, but there are two of them. I wonder how much further their world will shrink when there is only one of them. I want them to fight against this trend, but i don't know if they even see it. Maybe it's inevitable.

I want to fight against this shrinking of my world. I already hate crowds and i take the bus downtown. But that's to avoid paying for parking and to save gas. Really.

A brief history of stuff

We are in the process of ridding our house of stuff. Some of it is hard to part with, not because it has any value, but because of the stories that go with it.

So i have decided to take pictures of some of the stuff and tell the stories. Then i can get rid of it all with a smile. At least that's what i am hoping for.

I used to take pottery classes with one of my sisters-in-law. We had so much fun. It's like a socially acceptable way for grownups to play with mud. I made many ugly little pots with thick bottoms, a few of which i still use. This pumpkin was made from a pinch pot. You can put a candle in there and it won't smell like you burned the pumpkin pie.

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Look at this precious little tea set! There's even a wee cream pot. Em and i had many tea parties with this set. I once made cucumber sandwiches to go on the plates. Do you know how hard it is to make cucumber sandwiches? Cucumbers are slippery.

For a whole week once, Em insisted that we feed the cats on the plates. I wish i had a photo of our large boy cats eating from these little tiny plates.

Hey! I just had a thought (stand back!) If any of you with small children would like this tea set let me know and i will mail it to you. It would make me happy to know that someone is enjoying it.

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This is back from when Em was in her Garfield stage. She even had a book, "How to Draw Garfield." I have no idea why she chose paper plates as the canvas for her art.

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What on earth are those? They are fossilized shark's teeth, of course! I collected every one of these from a beach somewhere in Virginia as a child. I spent many hours poring over the sand looking for these. This predated my carnelian (from Stinson Beach in California) and agate (from the San Juan Islands here in Washington) hunting days.

Close up of shark's teeth. I still think these are really cool.

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This is a pasta bowl that The Mister bought at a fundraising auction for $100. We had a friend who did one of those Climb Mt. Rainier for Lung Cancer thingies. We had to buy something, so here it is. I have never used it. It's kind of a nice bowl. Hmmmm. Maybe i should keep it. No, no, i must Stay Strong.

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I used to make all of Em's Halloween costumes. This is a dragon. To me, every Halloween costume starts with a sweatsuit. I have made Unicorns and Turtles and Sea Urchins. No fairy princesses for my Em.


The wings are silver on one side and gold on the other. I patterned them after the wings of a beanie baby dragon.

I even drew silver and gold scales on the knees of the pants with puff paint. It kills me to give this to the Goodwill.

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This is Nala, from The Lion King. Nala used to go everywhere with Em. Nala would jump over the hot lava pit in our living room and her favorite food was parsley stems. More than once i have had to perform delicate micro-surgery to reattach Nala's head after a particularly fierce hug.

I think Nala will have to stay.

You can't make this shit up

completely gratiuitous and irrelevant picture of the butt crack of a teenage girl in a public place.

I was at the local mall yesterday, hanging out while selling some used books and reading Savage Love in The Stranger.

I started hearing some twittering from behind me, giggles and whispers from a group of people. I wasn't really paying much attention until one of them came up to stand beside me.

"Did you used to be famous for something," (as opposed to famous for nothing?) she asked me, "My friend thinks you did." (why is it always the friend?)

"Um, no."

"Are you SURE?"

I took a moment to consider my answer, as if i couldn't quite recall. "Yes, i am sure."

She issued a delicate snort and flounced off to report back to the friend.

WTF?

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In a shameless attempt to call attention to myself, i wish to point out that today is my two year blogiversary. What an interesting ride it's been. Thanks to all of you for making it so. What fun we've had. Yay me. YAY YOU!

An "I Love Lucy" moment

* This picture was taken about a half an hour after i stopped the dishwasher and finished mopping up the floor, when i had regained my sense of humor and determined that this was funny.

I am lucky enough to be able to pay someone else to clean my house. Sometimes i wonder if it's really a good idea though.

I came home about 15 minutes after they had finished cleaning, and found suds frothing forth from the dishwasher, which was running.

Yep, they had decided to run the dishwasher with dish washing liquid.

It wasn't even full!!!

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I just popped my Craig's list cherry! I sold Em's old twin bed frame for $40! I am so excited that i think i'll list The Mister's car. Shhhh. Don't tell him, it's a secret. Won't he be surprised!

Curse you Patches!

I made a lolcat.

I need help, srsly.

Aiming for 100

Well hi there. Thank you all for your supportive comments and suggestions. I find my own behavior unacceptable, but it's nice that none of you called me a jerk, at least not to my face.

Although Scott did say something like, it's okay to yell, but knock off that throwing stuff crap. I agree. I am going to take some of the information provided by you nice people and work on that. All i can truthfully promise is that i will try REALLY REALLY HARD not to lose it again.

The last person i went off on was my husband (although i did not throw anything) about a month ago. After i calmed down i had to go and apologize with my tail between my legs.

Last night we were chatting about something or other and he said, "I like talking to you because you are so reasonable."

I raised one eyebrow (a useful skill that i have passed on to my daughter) and looked askance at him.

"Well," he amended, "you are reasonable 99.98% of the time."

I just need to work on that other .02%.

Tantrum

I have a bad temper.

This is not something of which i am proud. The opposite is true. I am ashamed.

There is a lifecycle for this temper.

I lose it. I totally lose it. I scream like a rabid harpy at my child or my husband. I scream for about five minutes. Sometimes i throw things. The more i scream and storm, the worse i feel. I can't seem to stop it.

Then i have to go away. I can't calm down unless i am alone.

After a while, i present myself to the offended party. I apologize. I admit my failure. I stare at the floor.

I feel deeply ashamed of my disgusting behavior. I slink around for several days, not being able to look anyone in the eye. I sigh a lot. I am depressed, deeply. I think how they would be better off without me.

I can see it coming with Em. I can't with the Mister. So with Em, sometimes i can get away from her and calm down before i lose it.

With the Mister it comes out of the blue. It's binary. From zero to sixty in 3 nanoseconds.

My family forgives me, but i do not. I swear it will never happen again, that i will control myself. (The fact that i never do this in front of other people is proof that i can control myself. This makes me feel even worse.)

Then, six, eight, ten months later, i do it again.

"Everyone has the right to be an ass." *

I survived, although i was a zombie yesterday. A few things i learned:

-65 teenagers make ONE HELL OF A LOT OF NOISE!
-teenagers descend like a swarm of locusts on any free food, no matter how loathsome.
-teenage boys like to punch and kick one another.
-teenage girls like to groom one another.
-some traditions are stupid.
-it was smart of me to take earplugs.

It's some kind of traditon for the seniors at Em's school to have some kind of overnight event right after the graduation ceremony. But in reality, the kids were DONE, FINISHED, KAPUT, OVER, TOAST by 3:30 am, but we all had to stay at the last place until 5:00 am. Then we trudged on to the buses and rode in bleary-eyed silence back to the school. It would have been way better to have had the event end at 3:00 or so. But hey, i didn't do the planning.

The Mister and Em and i got home at 6:00 am. Ugh. Yesterday was spent waiting until it was late enough to go to bed.

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I watched Harold and Maude with Em today. It is so much fun to watch movies that i have loved with her and have her love them too.

* Colin Higgins

It's all over but the partyin'

This is graduation weekend at House Wobegon. There is the Senior Lunch, the Senior Party, the Graduation Ceremony, the Senior Reception and the Senior Breakfast. (I swear i am not exaggerating.)

I can't wait until it's all over. Yeesh!

On the other hand, my child is giddy with relief and happiness.

The Mister and i were foolish enough to volunteer to chaperone the Senior Party, which is an all night affair beginning after the Graduation and Reception and lasting until 5:30 am Monday morning.

What were we thinking? I am viewing it as one last gift for my daughter, because i can think of few greater hells than to be bussed from location to location with 62 screaming new high school graduates.

I hope i survive. Think of me as you snuggle into your warm toasty beds wearing your footie pajamas on Sunday night.

See you on the other side.

Warning: Too Much Information

I had my annual visit with the doctor a few weeks ago.

The usual, plus extra fun, was had by all. I got to do the tit squeeze, then the usual call back for more tit squeezes and a complete round of tit gelling. They've started using a device which warms the gel up first, isn't that sweet?

Next week i get to do something called a Stress Echo test. I think it involves getting me all annoyed and then yelling into my ear to see how long the sound takes to make it out my other ear.

I had blood drawn. My cholesterol numbers are great! Plus there was a notation added by hand from the doctor about FSH (Follicle Stimulating Hormone.) It said; " FSH levels consistent with menopause. Ovaries are no longer functioning."

I read that last part out loud while facing my naughty bits, just to make sure they were listening.

They were not listening.